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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

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I found this on my laptop?

Magnus frowned at Maia but she didn’t bat an eye. Alright, he thought, it was time to bring out the big guns.

He pouted at her.

“So, I can’t give free drinks to any cute people?” he asked, leaning against the wooden counter.

“Nope,” Maia replied shortly.

Huh. Maybe the pout needed more voltage.

“But what if they are super cute?” Magnus asked, pouting even further. “Like Chris Pine cute?”

“Still nope,” Maia shook her head.

“Are you telling me that if Chris Pine walks in here tonight, I can’t offer him a free drink?” Magnus asked incredulously.

Maia sighed, half tired and half exasperated. “I can assure you that Chris Pine is not going to walk into this bar on a Sunday night.”

She paused and looked at Magnus seriously.

“He better not walk into this bar when I am not bartending,” Maia said. “I will be so fucking pissed if that ever happens.”

Magnus wondered how much it would cost him to hire Chris Pine to visit the bar on Maia’s birthday.

“What’s the point of running a bar if you don’t get to give free drinks to cute people?” Magnus gestured at the patrons.

It was Sunday night and Hunters Moon was buzzing with anyone who hated Mondays – which was pretty much everyone.

“The point is to make profit so I can pay off my student loans,” Maia answered and slammed the cash register with a loud thud – she could be a little extra sometimes.

“You had to guilt me with the student loans, didn’t you?” Magnus pouted, for real this time. “Capitalism is a bitch.”

“Magnus, you don’t have to-”

He jumped over the counter in one smooth motion and put a finger on her lips. Cute people come and go – but friends are forever.

“I promised I will take over for you tonight,” Magnus smiled. “I won’t give anyone free drinks – even if they are Chris Pine cute. I promise.”

“Just for a couple of hours okay?” Maia said, as she picked up a napkin from the cupboard, probably hoping to clean the counter for the hundredth time. “It’s mostly just kids from the nearby campus. You can close up by 11.”

He smiled at her and took the napkin from her hands and put it over his shoulder. “Maia, I’ve got this. I just need to look pretty and serve alcohol. I’ve been doing that might my whole life. Just ask my dad.”

“Magnus, your jokes are more depressing than they are funny,” Maia pointed out, looking rather concerned.

“Hush, you!” Magnus shushed her. “Now why don’t you go back to the apartment and prep for the interview with the bank tomorrow?”

Maia was applying for a loan so she can renovate Hunters Moon to make it bigger and better. He wished he had the money to make her dream come true – but he didn’t. So he had decided to help her in whatever way he could. If that meant serving alcohol to redheads and Star Wars nerds with what were clearly fake IDs, Magnus didn’t mind one bit.

“You are the best-est,” Maia smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You are sure you can handle it, right?”

“Maia, I know my way around alcohol,” Magnus reminder her again. “I once drank so much gin that I almost got married to a plate in Poland. Or was it in Philippines? It was a country starting with P. I remember that much.”

“If that anecdote was supposed to make me feel better, it failed miserably,” Maia groaned, shaking her head.

“The only thing that can make you feel better is some hardcore prepping for your interview tomorrow,” Magnus informed her. “Now off you go. I’ve got this.”

He turned around, already taking orders from a blonde girl in a leather jacket. He saw Maia exiting the counter and picking up her backpack. She turned around and gave him a fond smile.

“One drink,” she said. “You can give one free drink.”

“One?” Magnus said in disbelief. “But there are so many cute people here!”

Maia put her backpack over her shoulder and winked at him. “Then you better find the cutest of them all – and it better not be Chris Pine!”

Magnus pouted at the door, which closed after her. He looked around the bar once more - the small cozy space which will hopefully be a big cozy space in the future. It was full of cute people alright. But how could he just choose one of them? It seemed like an impossible mission.

“Alright cutest of them all, show yourself!” Magnus announced dramatically, half joking and half wishing.

Right on cue, the front door bell jingled and two ridiculously good looking people walked in. They looked like students – but Magnus did not make that assumption based on the usual signs like the dark circles under their eyes or the ramen stains on their t-shirts.

These two were actually carrying a pile of giant text books as they found a corner booth and settled down. Magnus was trying to figure out which one of them was cuter when the door opened more and his quest to find the cutest of was settled – probably forever.

The man wore a simple gray sweater and had dark floppy hair that fell just above his eyes. Magnus wanted to know whether he didn’t comb his hair or didn’t know how to.

And his face. Oh my god, his face.

It was cute. Probably the cutest thing Magnus had ever seen – which is really saying something because Magnus had once attended a cat fashion show a couple of years ago.

The cute, no – cutest – guy’s face scanned the space, searching for someone – probably his girlfriend, if Magnus’ past luck was anything to go by. Even if this cute stranger turned out to be miraculously and conveniently gay, he was probably still here to meet up his boyfriend.

Magnus was used to his shitty luck.

The man’s eyes stopped on him and his mouth parted open, forming a slight O. He shook his head, his ridiculously cute hair flopping around making him look even cuter. The man started looking around again, this time more urgently.

“Face!” he yelled at someone. Or may it was Trace. Magnus couldn’t hear him over the patrons.

Mr. Cutest of Them All walked towards the two ridiculously good-looking students and immediately started gesturing aggressively at the counter. The two students peered over at the counter – at him? – and pointed at their books.

The man sighed and put his face in his hands. Clearly the three of them were dealing with some sort of personal drama. Magnus, despite wanting nothing but to talk to the cute guy, decided to give them space.

For now, he decided to do his job as promised and started taking and making more orders. One hour down, Magnus had successfully poured drinks, breaking zero glasses – although he did break a couple of hearts when he refused to give them his number.

They should really blame the stupid cute guy who was now brooding in the corner booth. The two mysteriously good-looking friends – friends? – seemed to be reading (studying? In a bar?) their giant textbooks in silence.

The blonde one did come over to get a couple of beers but didn’t say much. Magnus wondered if it would be a good idea to send over a drink to their table. Maia did say he could give one free drink after all and he didn’t think no one cuter could walk into that bar tonight – or any other night for that matter.

The bar was starting to empty out slowly as Maia had promised although the corner booth remained the same. Magnus shrugged and decided to clean up the counter since he had to close up in half hour. He was looking for Maia’s cleaning cloth – which she probably should wash more often – when someone loudly and awkwardly cleared their throat.

Magnus turned around to find the cute guy sitting on one of the bar stools, his fingers clasped neatly on the counter before him.

If he had thought the other man was good looking before, he didn’t have words for what he was feeling right now. Magnus could actually see his clearly now. His face, pale but beautiful – like porcelain that you want to caress at first sight. His blue eyes were so deep and enchanting and would definitely give Chris Pine run for his money.

The counter was empty, and so was the bar mostly, but one customer was still a customer. So Magnus decided to stop thirsting and starting pouring – alcohol, just to be clear.

“What can I get you?” Magnus asked, putting on his best smile.

No harm in smiling, right? It was just good customer service.

Okay he might have also unbuttoned one (or two) or his buttons while he pretended to look for something but that’s mostly because New York can be ridiculously warm in…January.

Whatever.

“Can I get a Cake by the Ocean, please?” the man asked.

“A what?” Magnus blinked.

“A Cake by the Ocean?”

“Uh, I don’t know how to make one of those,” Magnus replied helplessly.

Great his first impression on his cute stranger was that he was a loser who didn’t know fancy alcoholic beverages.

“I am sorry,” Magnus said quickly. “I am not a professional bartender. I am just covering for a friend. But I can look it up on the internet and see if I can make it for you.”

“No worries,” the man smiled, and Magnus wanted to kiss him. “It smells like orange juice and vodka. But also tastes like cranberries, I think? Oh – and peach schnapps!!”

“Hold on,” Magnus said slowly. “Are you talking about a Sex on the Beach?”

The man blinked at him once and then twice. His eyes widened in realization and he face palmed and groaned so hard that his friends looked over at the counter in concern.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the man said, his voice muffled by his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s really not,” Magnus smiled. Can this guy get any cuter?

“Why would anyone even call a cocktail that?” the man complained. “It’s a terrible name.”

“It was actually coined by this guy from Florida. He was asked by a peach schnapps company to create a cocktail featuring their product. So he made this,” Magnus gestured at the cocktail he was currently making, “He named it Sex on the Beach because most of the spring breakers who visited Florida at the time were looking for sex or the beach. It was really good marketing strategy to be honest.”

Cute guy looked both impressed and surprised at the same time. Cute guy looked cuter.

“I didn’t expect you to offer me an explanation and definitely not a comprehensive one at that,” the man said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus winked – because of customer service.

“You said you are covering for a friend,” the man after a minute of silence. “So how do you know about the sex on the beach thing? Do you happen to know random details about random alcoholic beverages?”

“While that would certainly look excellent on my resume, unfortunately no. My knowledge of alcohol is limited to mixing cocktails and making hangover cures. But I was a linguistics major at Columbia. I spent an entire semester on etymology. I may have a little obsession about discovering the meaning of things. So I happen to know random shit like this.”

“That’s actually pretty cool,” the man smiled again.

“I am glad you think so,” Magnus said genuinely. “My dad doesn’t see the point of pursing linguistics.”

“Most parents don’t understand the purpose of learning for passion,” the man pointed out. “They think we need to get a degree so we can get a job. They don’t really care if we like what we to learn or enjoy what we do.”

Magnus blinked.

The man was not only breathtakingly beautiful but also eloquent and deep.

“I agree,” Magnus replied. “But if we are going to talk about our parents, we need something stronger than a cocktail with orange juice.”

The man chuckled.

Magnus used to think that the most beautiful sound in the world was the sound a cocktail mixer makes when you are getting yourself booze after a long day at work – or short day at home.

But now he wasn’t so sure.

Maia can think whatever she wants – but if his depressing jokes can get another laughter out of the mystery man it would be worth it.

“Alec,” the man said, now smiling.

“Short for Alexander?” Magnus smiled back.

“Yep,” Alec nodded.

“Do you know the etymology of your name?” Magnus asked, as he waved at the last patrons – other than Alec’s friends – who were leaving the bar.

“It means protector, right?” the man guessed. “For Alexander the Great or something.”

“Actually it goes further back,” Magnus corrected, glad they were talking about etymology and not something like…baseball. “It was actually an epithet given to the Greek goddess Hera. She was a total badass. You should be flattered.”

“Well then, consider me flattered,” Alec grinned.

#why do I even have this fkhjkd #who are these people fjsfjdnfg #malec #malec fics #my writing

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tobiotetsu · 3 years

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the lovers

reversed (prequel)

chapter two: ten of cups

miya atsumu x f!reader

description: the lovers card was a blessing in tarot if pulled up right, with the meaning of true love, prosperity and unity. however, if pulled in reversed, it signified disappointment, foolishness and failure. if he was destined to be your soulmate, why was his presence accompanied by chaos and destruction? if miya atsumu was your fatal flaw, how could he possibly be your fate?

genre: soulmate au, 18+, angst, enimes-to-lovers

cw: family issues, mentions of death, grammar errors

a/n: SO excited to write the next chp!! feedback & reblogs are truly appreciated<3 (wc: 4.4k)

prequel masterlist ♕ chp three

From the outside, the Miya’s were a very well-known family with a prestigious family. Miya Kaito was a well-known businessman in Japan who took over his father’s Marketing company. Miya Izumi, the twins’ mother was much lesser known than their father but was still in the public eye. She was an author of a best-selling novel who lived in Sendai but moved to Kasai when she married Kaito. They had two twin sons who excelled in volleyball and were sure to go professional straight after high school.

They were picture-perfect. But to your eyes, they were everything but.

Atsumu’s prediction of his father's absence at dinner two weeks ago had turned out to be correct. You, Osamu and his mother had waited at the table for almost 40 minutes before coming to the conclusion that once again, he was not coming home.

The lavish mansion was a veil for a broken home.

A father who worked more than he saw his family, a mother who went on trips weekly to resorts to escape her life and two children who had to suffer at the hands of their parents’ actions.

You couldn’t help but think of their family dynamic as you were in the kitchen scouring through the fridge for breakfast, a day before your 18th birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Miya weren’t soulmates but they seemed like they didn’t even like each other. It seemed like their public reputation was the only thing keeping them together.

That was the last thing that you wanted with your soulmate. You were less than 24 hours away from turning eighteen and you couldn’t help but think about who they might be.

Do they live in the Huygo prefecture? Are they the same age as you? Are they kind? A romantic? Were they just as excited to know your identity? Would we have a physical or emotional connection?

Questions like these ran through your mind ever since you woke up.

Usually, your breakfasts were something solid to fuel you for the rest of the day, but you were so nervous for tomorrow that you could barely keep anything down. You decide that some fruit would be enough for now. You stack clear contains which green grapes, strawberries and cherries in one arm as you use your free one to close the fridge door.

Maybe they’re in California? You’d meet them there when studying for school perhaps?

The questions continued to flow as you sat down at the counter in the kitchen on a bar stool as you munched on the grapes. You were so wrapped up in your questions that you barely even noticed that someone had walked in.

You almost choke on the grape when you realize who she was. It was the same girl who was making out with Atsumu in the cafeteria two weeks ago. She also must have been the owner of those over-exaggerated moans that still made you sick to your stomach.

Even though you took a while to acknowledge her, she still hadn’t noticed you. Confused laced your eyes are you stare at her half-naked figure opening the fridge in front of you. The only thing covering her was a large white button shirt with two buttons together at her chest, which you assumed was Atsumu’s.

As you were studying her in slight disgust, she finally noticed your presence.

“Oh hi, I’m Yui,” she said as she tucked her dirty blonde hair behind her hair.

“Yeah, I know, we’re in the same calculus class,” you say before you place mother grape in your mouth. Judging by her reaction to your words, she hadn’t even acknowledged you, but you couldn’t care less.

She stood there in a slight shock before hesitantly speaking again.

“So, are you dating ‘Samu?” she asked as she leaned her body on the side of the fridge door. Her words caused you to choke on the grape that laid on your tongue.

“Samu? No!” You manage to squeak out between your violent coughs. “He’s just my friend”

She seems to be confused by your statement. You never had thought about Osamu in that way and you weren’t sure why she would think that.

“Well, then why are you around here all the time?” Now it was your turn to look confused at her words.

“Excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow as you reply.

“You were the one who knocked on Atsumu’s door, right? The one he called princess?” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her half-exposed chest.

Ah, now you understood. Was she jealous?

“Yeah, I was.” your tone changes as your patience was slowly seeping through your fingers like grains of sand.

She nodded her head before stepping closer to the opposite of the table. “‘Tsumu’s mine, so don’t come around here anymore if it's for him.” she spits out with a grin as if she had accomplished something.

You take a moment to respond to her. In one swift movement, you stand from your stool and start to close the container of grapes in front of you.

“One, I live here, I’ve been living here since I was 6,” you said as you snapped the containers louder than you usually did. “Two, the last thing I want is to be around Atsumu.”

You gather the containers and make your way in front of Yui. She said nothing as she stood and watched you place the fruits back into its assigned tray.

“And three, he’s not yours. You’ll be gone by the end of the week, sweetheart.” that was the last thing you said to her as you exited the kitchen. You didn’t stick around the see her jaw hang slack, appalled at the words that came out of your mouth.

You knew she attacked you because of Atsumu but was she that oblivious that she couldn’t see what laid between the two of you?

pure annoyance and animosity

“The audacity!” Stephanie exclaimed as you retold the events from this morning as you two sat outside the school waiting for the boys' volleyball practice to conclude.

“I don’t even want to think about it anymore, it gives me a headache.” you shook your head to the side as you try to forget the whole meeting. “Thanks again for giving me a ride today too, Steph.”

Your usual ride had to stay later than usual to make up his missed chemistry test and you rather walk the 30 mins than ask Atsumu to join him home. Stephanie was more than happy to drive you home after akaashi came out from practice. Because of Mara’s feelings for Atsumu, you never felt comfortable discussing him with her. You didn’t want her to feel bad for liking someone she despised. One can not control whom they love, so you spared her feelings and confided in Stephanie when it came to Atsumu.

“Don’t mention it!” she said as a smile pulled at her lips. “You excited for tomorrow? Finally going to be 18 and find your person!”

Your birthday completely slipped your mind as you focused on the Yui situation.

“I’m so nervous! hopefully, I can find him,” you said as you looked down at your hands. Stephanie could recognize your worry and placed her hand on your shoulder.

“Try not to worry y/n. You’ll find them. I remember the same feeling right before my birthday. The anxiety was eating at my soul but, in the end, everything was perfect. It’ll be like that for you too.” She empathized.

Akaashi and her were your only pair of soulmates to admire; They were the only two you knew. Your parents were also soulmates but you couldn’t see their love blossom due to his passing. You saw how much your mother loved and grieved him, but you weren’t old enough at the time to remember him loving her as much.

“I think they’re done,” Stephanie said as she held her hand. “I felt his signal.”

Akaashi and her shared physical touch. If in 500 meters of her, whatever Akaashi felt physically, so would Stephanie.

And as if it was timed, right after her statement the team came through the school's entrance doors.

“Hey!” Akaashi said as he waived at the two of you. He situated himself right behind his girlfriend. He muttered a small ‘hello’ as he kissed the top of her head and held her hand and rubbed small circles with his thumb against the back of it.

so that must have been their signal.

You could only wish your soulmate was as kind and loving as Akaashi.

You unknowingly stare at the couple in front of you as your phone starts to ring with your mother's picture displayed on the screen.

“Hi, mom” you answer.

“y/n! I need you to run to the store for me. I forgot a few ingredients for dinner today, could you get Osamu to drive you to the market?” Your mother said urgently.

“Uh, I would but ‘Samu’s taking a test right now, he won't be done any time soon.”

“Then can you ask Atsumu to take you?” Her words made you cringe at the thought of being in such close proximity to him for that long.

“Mom, I-” but before you could finish your refusal she interrupts.

“Please, y/n. I’m desperate.” she pleaded.

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell her that going with Atsumu would be impossible, that he wouldn’t even take you in the first place but then you remembered how hard she works. She worked this hard for you, so this was the least you could do for her.

“Okay, I’ll ask him,” you say in a slightly sombre tone as you accept your defeat.

“Thank you!! I’ll send you the list, love you!” those were the last words you heard before she hung up.

“Ready to go?” Stephanie asked as she swung her bag over her shoulder.

“Change of plans. You guys go without me, I gotta find Atsumu.” Both their faces synchronously scrunched together in confusion.

“Are you going to be okay?” akaashi asked, clearly concerned.

You vigorously nod your head and send them on their way, thanking them for offering the ride home.

A deep sigh escapes your mouth as you make your way inside the school to find Atsumu. Luckily, or unluckily, you found him immediately standing at his locker as he was laughing at something Suna said.

You debated turning back twice but decided to suck it up. With strong strides, you walk up to Atsumu’s figure.

“Atsumu” even though you aimed for your voice to come off strong, even you could hear the strain in it.

He wore his usual volleyball attire, identical to Osamu. White joggers with a vertical black stripe doing down the side of each leg accompanied by a black t-shirt, which clung to his body due to the aftermath of an hour-long practice.

You approaching him for a change, took him by surprise a bit, but even surprise he still managed to wear that smirk to antagonize you.

“What’cha want, princess?” he said as he placed his hands in the pockets of his pants.

There was that damn nickname again.

“Um, I need you to take me to the market,” you say bluntly. Sugarcoating with Atsumu would only lead to his enjoyment but, somehow your words managed to do so anyway.

His smirk grew as he leaned back on the lockers behind him.

“And where’s the person who ya wanted to take you?” he knew he wasn’t your first choice. Hell, he wasn’t even your third or fourth choice.

“‘Samu can’t, so can you or not?” you probably shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum, especially because you had the lower ground.

“Sorry princess, can’t,” he said without a care as he slid his arm through his maroon Inarizaki jacket. “Meetin’ with Yui”

Just her name was enough to remember this morning. Your face contorts in disgust at the thought of her roaming the house barely clothed.

“Oh, you don’t have to be jealous, princess.” atsumu says after witnessing your reaction and assuming it was because of him. You can't help but snort at his response.

“I think you’re telling the wrong girl that.” you can't help but laugh as you speak. Your words earn a slight head tilt from a confused Atsumu and an amused whistle from Suna.

You turn to take your leave from his presence, but before you walk out the school entrance you turn back one more.

“Tell your girlfriend to watch what she says to me next time.” Your voice was much stronger than before. You didn’t stay behind to see the distraught faces of the two men you left behind.

You couldn’t even hear the way Atsumu slammed his locker and Suna’s voice calling him as he rushed off.

You should have eaten more today.

That was the only thing that you could think while you scurried through the food aisles slowly compiling the ingredients your mother needed. Her listen was all over the place; enoki mushrooms, powdered sugar, sesame seeds, fatty tuna, vanilla extract, rice. The list went on longer than you expected.

All the feelings you were being put through today managed to stop you from eating lunch as well. The only thing that was in your stomach was five grapes that you managed to get down before your encounter with the unexpected visitor.

The last thing on the list was a jar of raspberry preserves, which of course was located on the highest shelf of the aisle. As you stare at it, debating if you should make a fool of yourself to jump while flailing your arms to reach, a voice came from behind you.

“Need a boost, princess?” His voice started you causing you to move backwards and stumble into his chest but quickly move away from him. Before you could respond Atsumu reaches up and grabs the jar that you were eyeing.

You turn around to him with wide eyes as he hands you the jar without his usual banter. Silently, you nod your head and take the preserves from him.

“Why’d you come? Weren’t you going to hang out with your girlfriend?” you asked as you placed the jar into the cart.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said firmly as he placed a hand on the cart to halt you from moving.

Why was he acting this way over this? It actually seemed like he was bothered by the situation.

You opened your mouth to respond but the voice that danced on your ears did not belong to you.

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d see.” A deep voice sounded from behind Atsumu. Both you and Atsumu whipped your heads in the voice's direction only to be met with two faces that put a smile on your face instantly.

“Aran!” Atsumu bellowed loudly, as he embraced his friend while you exchange greetings with Kita.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked.

“We came back from college today, decided to go shoppin’,” Kita said as he lifted up the small basket in his hand.

“Now, the more important question is, what are you two doing here?” Aran asked as his eyes bounced between you and Atsumu. Aran was a friend of the twins ever since they were 9, therefore he was your friend as well. He knew exactly how you felt about Atsumu, so that would explain the way he was looking at the two of you, alone at a grocery store as the sky was enveloped by darkness.

“My mom asked me to pick some things and uh, ‘Samu was busy,” you said quickly, hoping that he didn’t think differently.

Aran nodded his head while pressing his lips together.

“Say, aren’t you guys graduatin’ soon?” Kita said as he shifted his basket from one hand to the other. “D’ya know where you’re going for school y/n?”

Now, this was the first thing that put a smile on your face throughout the entire day. “Yeah, UCI, California!” you said with a proud girn.

“America? What program?” Kita inquired with wide eyes.

“Journalism!” the one word made everyone’s eyes widened.

“Of course it’s journalism. She's the one-woman team that runs the Inarizaki newspaper.” Aran said with a wide smile.

You continued the conversation with Aran and Kita as Atsumu wandered off somewhere in the store. You weren’t sure where he had gone but you didn’t care enough to worry.

As you and Kita conversed, Aran spotted Atsumu at the opposite end of the aisle and slips away from the conversation.

“Bro, where d’ya go?” Aran asked slightly concerned.

“Just walkin’ round,” Atsumu said as he swung his keys around his index finger.

“So, y/n’s leaving Japan?” Atsumu had an idea of where Arans questioning was leading to as he slowly nodded his head in agreement.

“How does ‘Samu feel about that?”

ding ding ding

“Probably not too good,” Atsumu asked knowing exactly how his brother feels about your pretending departure. “I wouldn’t feel too good if the girl I loved since I was 6 was leavin’ the country either”

“So is he gonna tell her?” Aran whispered.

Atsumu let out a soft snort at Aran’s words. “He had 12 years to tell her, ya think he’s gonna now?”

Atsumu knew his twin brother loved you since before they even started playing volleyball. And ever since then, Osamu has never once attempted to tell you of his feelings. It drove Atsumu mad, but he never interfered between you and him.

Before the conversion could further between him and Aran, they both see Kita waving them down.

“Let’s go Aran, y/n has to get this stuff home before dinner!” Kita said as the two large men approached you.

“Happy early birthday, y/n,” Kita said as he gave you a small hug.

At Kita’s words, Aran checked the date on his phone in a panic. “It’s tomorrow!”

“Yeah, the only reason why Kita knew was it came up in conversation” you replied. You were never one to flaunt your birthday. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy big parties and multiple guests but, to you birthdays meant something else.

Your fifth birthday was the only one that you could remember before your father’s death. It was celebrated by only your mother, father and you, but it seemed like the most fun a five-year-old could have. Your mother always mentioned how your father enjoyed small birthdays and how they were sacred. he would say to “only share them with people who brought you pure happiness and expected nothing in return”. And that was now how you chose to live, just like him.

“Actually, I'm having a small dinner tomorrow, do you two want to join? ‘Samu will be there, so you could catch up with him.” Your invitation earned a smile from Kita and Aran but a deep frown by the blonde beside them.

You hadn’t invited Atsumu to your birthday dinner for obvious reasons and weren’t planning to.

The two men looked at each other debating whether to accept or decline but ultimately accepted.

You were expecting Atsumu to chime in but, he hadn’t. He only looked at you with narrow eyes and a frown.

His eyes were laced with an emotion that you couldn’t quite decipher. Anger? Annoyance?

It was only then that you missed Atsumu’s stupid banter because this Atsumu,

This Atsumu seemed to be a thousand times worse

Ten minutes had passed since you last left the market and about twenty minutes since you last spoke to each other.

You two sat in complete silence as Atsumu drove to the Miya mansion in Atsumu’s Red Lamborghini. Mr. Miya bought both the twins a car of their choice for their 18th. Osamu had gone with a black Benz jeep while Atsumu went for the most flashy option.

You debated speaking to him, to break the awkward silence that filled the space between the two of you but Atsumu had already gotten ahead of you.

“Not going to extend the invitation for yer dinner?” His tone returned to its usually annoying self.

You look at him with a blank face and tired eyes. “Are you joking? It’s not like you’d come anyways.”

It was hard to believe that you two were once friends. Now you two could barely be in a car together without it imploding. He was the one that left you out of things, he was the one that no longer wanted to be your friend when you two were 8 years old. So why was antagonizing you over an invitation he wouldn’t even accept in the first place?

He just wanted to pester you in every way possible.

Minutes passed and once again the car was quiet as a mouse. Till Atsumu, once again sparked up a conversation.

“Yui,” You whipped to face Atsumu in the diver seat.

“Excuse me?”

“Yui. What did she say to ya?” He spoke without taking his eyes off the road, foot shifting between the gas and the break.

You were too tired to lie or ask why he cared, so you answered truthfully. “Your girlfriend didn’t like your nickname.”

“Not my girlfriend,” he said curtly while turning the wheel to turn on to your street.

“Fuck buddy, whatever.” you aimlessly correct yourself.

“Not anymore,” Before you could even comprehend his response, you two passed through the white gate lining the mansion.

It was far later than you thought you’d be home. The moon sat brightly in the sky as it was surrounded by small stars. it was basically night You only hoped that your mother wouldn’t be mad.

Unexpectedly, Atsumu helped you carry the grocery bags into the house. He strung 4 bags on his arms as you were left to carry one. You insisted that you can carry half his load but he was already through the door.

“‘Tsumu! y/n! Bless your hearts, thank you kids so much.” your mother said as you two placed the grocery bags on the counter in the kitchen. “Thank you for taking her, ‘Tsumu.”

“Of course, Obasa-” before atsumu could finish speaking to your mother something had caught his attention from the dining room.

Or perhaps, someone.

Before you knew it, Atsumu ran to the dining room and stood in front of the table. Instinctively, you follow him to the scene in front of you.

Sitting at the table was Osamu across from Mrs. Miya, and in between them, at the head of the table, sat a man you had not seen in a long time.

Miya Kaito, the twins’ father

“Atsumu” his father's voice sounded cold and hard as it said his son's name. Atsumu must have thought the same thing as you could see him wince at the sound of his name rolling off his father's tongue.

“So now ya decide to come home? What, finally got tired of sleeping at the office?” Atsumu’s voice was blaring, anger coursed through his veins, the only thing he could see was red.

“‘Tsumu! Stop it!” Osamu shouted from his seat in hopes to stop his brother.

“I wanted to have a meal with my family, so just sit down, Atsu-” Atsumu cut his father off not wanting to hear what he wanted to say.

“Cut the bullshit dad! Yer too busy for us and yer too busy for ma. so don’t even fucking try to fix this family, ya broke it a long time ago!” Atsumu’s voice raised in volume.

“Atsumu!” Mrs. Miya shrieked for her son to stop.

“I’m here now, okay? So sit down!” Mr. Miya’s voice matched Atsumu’s in volume as he urged his son to stop.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m gonna sit down and play house with ya.” was the last thing Atsumu said before storming up the stairs. You stood there in complete shock at what just happened.

Your eyes scanned the room around you. Mrs. Miya held her head in her hands as Osamu's face grew in irritation. Their father stood there with distraught painting his face. Your mom was still in the kitchen, but she still glanced with worry with her hand over her mouth.

Everyone in this house was shaken because of him.

Osamu stood from his seat to go after his brother but you decided to instead. Osamu shouldn’t have to worry about his brother when he's going through the same thing.

You ran up with stairs faster than you ever have to catch up to him.

“Atsumu!” you called from him as you followed him up the stairs. He ignored you as he reached the top of the stairs and walked towards his room's door.

“Atsum-” Your second attempt was deemed successful in getting his attention as he turned around and pushed you against the wall, caging you in his arms.

“What do you fuckin’ want, y/n?” His voice dripped with pure anger. He looks distraught. His eyes were red and glassy and his skin was turning an unnatural shade of red.

“Atsumu, I know you’re mad at him but just go downstairs and talk to him! Everyone’s upset. Just give him a chance.”

“What the fuck do you know about how I feel? Ya got a good mom, yer going to a good school in America and ya live in a big house, which is mine by the way. Yer miss perfect! So don’t you fucking dare tell me what to do. This isn’t your place to speak.” He yelled inches away from your face.

You parted your lips to say something but he left before you could. The slam of this door was deafening to your ears. You stood there, in front of his door in utter shock.

You knew he had a right to be angry, and in no way you were denying that right. But Osamu had every right as well, and he was sitting downstairs beside his father.

Why was it different for Atsumu? Why should he be allowed to create this mess and let everyone drown in his actions?

Why couldn’t he just try?

Atsumu’s words about you left a burden heavier than any weight that has been placed on your shoulders. If you could not speak about his family, why could he speak so thoughtlessly about yours?

Broken families came in all sorts of shapes and sizes; he out of all people should have known that the best.

[ the lovers taglist: @meepmoop12w @okkotsoo @quirklessidiots-trashdump @luna-mothii @unstaaableaf @lilith412426 @sunasbabie @thepsychicartist @gojoussunglasses @encrytpta @yamaguchis-17th-freckle @mavrintarou ]

unable to tag bolded blogs <\3

#miya atsumu angst #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #haikyuu angst #atsumu angst #atsumu x you #miya atsumu smut #atsumu series #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu #the lovers.series #tw.family issues

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wallgirl · 3 years

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The Little Nereid Part 10

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 3,100

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly, twice a week; will have about ?16? parts total.

---

Three long banquet tables took up the middle of the palace's dining hall. The middle table was reserved for the family and their close friends; the other tables were filled by guests of every sort. Each table was piled high with mountains of mouth-watering dishes; quail and fish; breads and pastries; olives and cheese. Gilded bowls of fresh fruit grown in the neighboring orchards and gardens were being served by dryads, and the satyrs went around with large jugs of wine, ensuring that no one's glass went unfilled.

Dynamene, now dressed in her finest golden peplos and her ceremonial coral wreath, made her way through the high-spirited crowd. After stopping to exchange bows and pleasantries with a faun she'd attended school with as a small child, she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw Thoe waving her over to a chair at the main table.

"Your seat's here next to me. You know, since we're seated in birth order," Thoe sighed as Dynamene took her chair. "I don't miss having to sit in order like this."

"What, don't like being reminded you're one of the youngest too?" Dynamene laughed.

"I am still nearly four centuries older than you, and don't you forget it!" Thoe protested, jabbing at her lightly.

"Well, since you're the second youngest of us thirteen here tonight, I suppose you're stuck next to me." Dynamene craned her head to look towards the front of the room. "Where are Mother and Father?"

"Ianeira said they'd be out any minute. Everyone else should be taking their seats soon..."

As if on cue, everyone still on their feet scrambled to their seats. The satyrs hurried to top up the last of the glasses before chugging down the remaining wine in the jugs for themselves. The eleven other Nereids present quickly made their way to the table, talking in excited whispers. "They're coming," Ianeira announced as she took her seat close to the head of the table.

Two figures appeared at the entrance at the front of the great hall, and the crowd's clamor dimmed to a murmur. Nereus and Doris, the esteemed father and mother of the Nereids, had made their appearance at last.

They were both tall and statuesque, though the similarities ended there. Nereus was an imposing man with a kind face, his smile largely hidden behind a vast beard that fell nearly halfway down his broad chest. He rose one hand in greeting to his guests, who called back their approval. "Greetings, my esteemed guests; my dearest of friends; and, of course, my beloved daughters. We are beyond honored to share our hospitality with you tonight."

Doris beamed at her daughters, her dark eyes crinkling warmly. Her long black hair fell in spirited waves and curls to her thighs, decorated on top with a coral hairpiece that matched theirs. "We are gathered here this evening to rejoice; thirteen of our beautiful daughters have returned home to celebrate Dynamene's coming-of-age. Please join us in filling this evening with merriment beyond heart's measure!" She rose her glass in a toast, and the rest of the hall joined her with cheer.

The opening speech given, the crowd returned to socializing. Doris and Nereus made their way to their gilded thrones at the head of the family table.

"More and more beautiful every year," Doris sighed contentedly, looking at her daughters with pride. "I am so glad to see you again, loves. It's so quiet here with you all away."

"I don't know about that; Nerites almost makes enough noise to make up for it," laughed Nereus merrily.

"That's not true!" Nerites protested from the other end of the table. He looked up from the kabob of roasted fish he was chewing. "I make more than enough noise."

The family erupted with laughter at his unexpectedly peeved retort. "I jest, Nerites," Nereus soothed. "You're the noisiest lad on the coast; I promise."

"Especially on days your father and I are trying to sleep in," Doris added smoothly, passing a plate of poached figs to her husband.

"Aye, and the days we're not trying to sleep in, too," Nereus whispered boldly, winking saucily at her. Dynamene nearly choked on her wine as her older sisters laughed at his raunchy remark. Doris threw a grape at him playfully.

"Mind your manners, or we'll be sleeping in separate suites entirely tonight, and it won't matter either way."

"Ah, just having a bit of a laugh, my love." Nereus brushed her hair back affectionately. "But your mother is right; it's not the same here with all of you girls gone. Too bad the rest couldn't come as well."

"I'm surprised Poseidon agreed to let thirteen of us come to begin with," Actaea said, swirling her wine thoughtfully.

"He does have business elsewhere, so he doesn't need all of us tending the palace as usual," Ianeira replied. "Honestly, though, he could have let all of us come and things wouldn't change at all. It's not like anyone else would be there to make a mess."

"Mm, quite right." Thoe took a dainty bite from a pear. "I'm sure he wants to keep the rest there just to prove he can. Another status symbol."

Dynamene stared at her plate. I'm sure he's not doing it just out of spite.

"Do you want something else to eat, Dynamene?" Doris asked. "I know lobster isn't your favorite. Do you want to try some quail?"

"Oh, no," Dynamene rushed, holding up her hands. "Just lost in thought. I've grown more fond of lobster lately, to be honest; especially with lime sauce."

Doris tutted fondly. "Finally getting a taste for shellfish; you really have come-of-age, haven't you?"

Ianeira watched quietly for a moment, then spoke up. "Mother, do you think I could speak to you in private later tonight?"

Doris looked up in concern. "Of course, dearest; is everything alright? Is it something we should speak about right away?"

"No, it's not urgent," Ianeira said. "Just something that's been worrying me." Her gaze lingered on Dynamene, who took notice, before quickly darting away.

Again with that strange air of secretiveness... But what does it mean? Dynamene pondered for a moment.

Oh, well. I suppose if it involves me, I'll find out sooner or later. She reached out to try a bit of quail. Lobster still really wasn't quite her favorite.

---

Some hours later, the feast had ended and the guests had dispersed. Dynamene had retired to take a soothing bath in the wide tub of the grand bath. Worn out from the long day, and stuffed to bursting with delicious food, it felt wonderful to let herself relax in the hot salt water. It wasn't long before she began to feel sleepy, and she knew it was time to head to bed.

Freshly bathed, and with her damp hair hanging loose, she put on a fresh chiton that smelled of the ocean outside. She felt so much more relaxed since they'd arrived at home. She left the bathroom and wandered down the dimly lit halls to her childhood bedroom. The gentle orange glow of the torches set a warm, soft light everywhere it touched. Her bare feet weren't cold against the ground here, unlike with the cold marble at Poseidon's palace. It would be nice to sleep in her old bed again tonight.

She was almost to her room when she heard quiet voices coming from Ianeira's room. She paused, remembering Ianeira's request to their mother. Surely she was hearing them talk about whatever it was that troubled Ianeira.

She hesitated outside the door. It wasn't right for her to eavesdrop, but when she remembered that had persisted since her sisters' meeting with Poseidon, she couldn't bring herself to walk away. Brushing her hair away from her ear, she leaned in to listen.

"...worried about her, lately. It wouldn't be a concern if you hadn't sent us to a place like that in the first place. I just don't understand. Why?"

Ianeira's tone was rather vulnerable, now that she was speaking in private with her mother. It took Dynamene by surprise; for so long, Ianeira had been the one guiding the rest of them, and now here she was herself seeking counsel with her mother.

"We sent you to Poseidon's palace to broaden your prospects," Doris answered firmly. "To give you opportunities you could never have here. Your father and I are rather ancient by the rest of the pantheon's standards, and our influence has already peaked long ago. It was our hope that, by sending you to serve Poseidon, that you might meet others, gain an education, and make your own way in the world."

"The tutors were top-class," Ianeira admitted. "But Poseidon himself is a geyser, just waiting to blow. Don't you remember what he did to Adamas? Ripped him in half without a second thought. We were there, serving him, when that happened, remember? We saw the body, Mother. I can still hear the screams some nights..."

"I think about it more than I ought to," Doris whispered. "And I am sorry that you had to witness it. It was an unspeakable act. But I don't believe for one second that he would ever harm any of you."

"It matters not what you believe! I don't want to risk that happening to Dynamene! If he was capable of doing that to his own brother on a whim, what would he do to her?" Ianeira cried.

Doris sighed. "Your father and I have always had faith that Poseidon would never lay a hand on any of you. All fifty of you are clever and resourceful; we know you would never tempt fate with him. And he would never tempt fate with you."

Ianeira laughed humorlessly. "Tempt fate? Oh, Mother, if only you knew."

"I don't understand, Ianeira. Why are you afraid for Dynamene? What do you fear Poseidon is going to do?"

"It's more about what Dynamene might do at the moment, Mother," Ianeira said, her voice defeated. "You see... Dynamene is infatuated with Poseidon."

One could have heard a pin drop. Dynamene clapped her hand over her mouth, hiding her gasp of shock. How long had they known about her feelings for Poseidon?

"...She has always been a passionate girl," Doris murmured. "Always a bit of a romantic. But, I suppose, this really isn't so surprising of a development. Of the fifty of you, one of you was bound to become enamored with him."

"I'm worried for her, Mother," Ianeira whispered. "She's still so young; she's still a child in so many ways. I don't know what to do."

"Dynamene is at that strange stage where she has the desires of a woman, but the reasoning of a child. She is inexperienced. It will just take time; she will grow and learn."

"But that's what I'm worried about, Mother!" Ianeira pleaded. "She's already so infatuated with him, and this is Poseidon! If, in time, she really does fall in love with him, and he lays claim to her - what can we do to protect her from him? She'll become his consort, and then..."

"Dynamene is still too young to truly know romantic love. I assure you, dearest, what Dynamene feels right now is just a passing fancy. Poseidon is a powerful god, and he is handsome; I would be more surprised if she did not develop an attraction to him. But Poseidon is infamously cold and stoic. Nothing will come of it, you have my word."

That stung. Dynamene winced, her face flushing with humiliation. It was uncomfortably jarring to hear her family speak candidly about her innermost feelings this way.

"I don't want to risk that! Dynamene is around him all the time, as we all are, serving him at the palace. Please, just request that Dynamene remain home longer, even if only for a year. If it's truly a mere crush, then her feelings for him should fizzle out by then."

What? The gears in Dynamene's mind began to turn rapidly. Ianeira was asking Doris to keep her here even longer...

Almost as if the whole point of the trip had been to get her away from Poseidon.

Dynamene swallowed hard, feeling a surge of angry betrayal wash over her. Her clenched fists had begun to shake. She resisted the urge to barge in; they were still speaking, and she wanted to listen until the end.

Doris was quiet. "I will consider it. But the thirteen of you have only just got here today; it could very well be the case that, by the time the month is up, Dynamene's attention will be on someone else."

Dynamene heard Ianeira exhale. "Thank you, Mother. I just... I just want her to be safe."

"I understand, my child," Doris comforted her. "But have faith; everything will turn out just fine."

Dynamene couldn't stand to listen to anymore. She ran to her room and slammed the door shut, angry tears forming in her eyes.

They had known. They had known this entire time how she felt. And now, instead of supporting her, or even just hearing her out about her feelings, they were trying to keep the two of them apart. Her sisters, the people she trusted most in the whole world, had betrayed her trust.

Any joy she'd felt from their homecoming dispersed within her chest, replaced by the hot, prickling sensation of rage. How could they do this? She wasn't only angry at them; she was angry at herself, too. How could I have been so blind? She asked herself angrily. Of course they'd never accept my feelings for Poseidon. If one thing's clear now, it's that they hate him. They've never spoken to him the way I have. They've no idea.

I never wanted to stay here for a month from the start, let alone a year. By the time we go back to the palace, the council of the gods will have taken place, and Hera will have done her best to force someone else upon Poseidon. I won't let that happen. I'll do whatever it takes to go back before then.

A gentle rap on her shut door broke her out of her angry reverie. She didn't bother to check who it was before shouting, "Go away!"

But of course, the door opened anyway, revealing the last person she wanted to see: Ianeira.

"Leave me alone," Dynamene snapped at her.

Ianeira stared at her in shock. "What's gotten into you? I just came to check on you. Is something the matter?"

Perhaps now wasn't the right time to break out into a fury. Dynamene unclenched her jaw and took a breath. "No, I'm sorry for snapping. I just have a headache."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ianeira said, coming to sit next to her. She reached out to stroke her sister's hair, but Dynamene pulled away.

"Well, I'll keep things brief then," Ianeira started over. "We had a good time today, didn't we?"

"Yes," Dynamene muttered as she looked away. It was going great until now.

"I know how refreshing it is to be here at home. It's where we belong, really, although with how much time we've spent at Poseidon's palace, it can be hard to remember."

Dynamene was silent, knowing where her sister's words were leading to and loathing it. Ianeira carefully ventured onwards. "So... How would you like to take the year off and stay here, at home?"

Dynamene looked at Ianeira with loathing in her eyes. "So you can keep me away from Poseidon a little longer?"

Ianeira's mouth fell open, but no words came out.

Dynamene jumped to her feet, unable to rein in her rage any longer. "You can't even deny it, can you?! That this whole trip was a ruse to get me away from him! Is that the real reason why you left me out of the audience?"

"Why... How on earth could you possibly know that?" Ianeira shot back, standing up.

"I have a predisposition to eavesdropping, I guess," Dynamene clenched her fists. "I heard what you were saying to Mother. How dare you decide what's best for me like that?! You haven't even asked me about any of it!"

"About what? Your infatuation with a madman?!" Ianeira yelled back. Her eyes were snapping with long-repressed frustration and anger, and Dynamene couldn't help but shirk back. "You think I haven't lost sleep, worrying about this? And now you want me to compromise with you over it?!"

"How dare you say that!" Angry tears threatened to overflow from Dynamene's eyes. "I don't need you deciding what's right for me! I've already made up my mind; I want to stay with him! I want to be with him!"

"Be with him?! Are you insane, Dynamene?!" Ianeira threw her arms up in disbelief. "You want to be with the man who tore his own brother apart without a second glance? Is that the same fate you want, once he decides you too don't meet his standards?!"

"He would never do that to me!" Dynamene cried, clutching her bracelet. "He wouldn't! Even when he caught me spying, he-"

"He what?" Ianeira's voice went deadly quiet. "You did what?"

"I..." Dynamene knew she had made a mistake, and she looked down.

"You spied on him? Why?! Are you even thinking?! If Mother and Father knew-"

"I had to know what he was talking about with Hera! I don't want him to be with anyone else; I love him! I love him!" Dynamene's voice cut off as she began to sob with abandon. "Please, don't tell them! They'll never let me-"

"How could you say you love him?! He has no heart! He cares for no one, not even us!" Ianeira hurled. Her hair was steaming with rage. "You're not even thinking, taking risks like that! There's no way you're returning to that palace! You're still a child; Poseidon will ruin you! I won't let him do that to you; not you, or any of my sisters!" Her shouts echoed in the small room.

"You can't stop me!" Something within Dynamene had snapped. "I'm not a child anymore, and you don't control me!" She threw open the windows and let the night wind pour in, billowing about her. The black seawater swirled many feet below.

"Wait, Dynamene, don't!" Ianeira cried out, reaching for her.

Dynamene dove headfirst out the window without a second glance. She plunged into the cold ocean water below, the thin fabric of her chiton swirling about her.

I won't sit by and let others decide my life for me! They could never know how I feel. They won't even try to understand. Tears drifted from her eyes, leaving a trail of bubbles in her wake. That's just fine. I'll take things into my own hands. I'll find a way; I will.

Dynamene let her body disperse into the water, swimming away as fast as she could into the dark waters of the night.

---

Author’s Notes: This part has taken me the longest thus far now. I gave myself time to recharge before finishing it because I wanted the emotions to be strong. Can't do that if I'm suffering writer fatigue. I watched part of The Little Mermaid and felt ready to continue. Here we are!

Can you blame Dynamene, Ianeira? Have you LOOKED at Poseidon, I mean REALLY LOOKED? Man's got the looks of an angel. Too bad his personality doesn't match.

The parts now have names (on ao3)! We're at part 10 now; I thought names might help tell them apart. No spoilers in them, but descriptive enough that people who have already read them will hopefully be able to tell which is which.

Nereid birth order:

Ianeira - 1

Actaea - 6

Callianassa - 23

Eione - 27

Thoe - 41

Dynamene - 50

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon x oc #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #fanfiction

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nickydestati · 3 years

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duolingo tog prompts #13

prompt: Now he is just a normal citizen (Adesso è solo un cittadino normale)

i am aware this is a superhero au for what technically is a superhero movie already but oh well, i hope you enjoy it anyway!

In general, Yusuf likes being Joe. On some days, though, he feels like screaming. Only yesterday night he was chasing down some stalker scum to teach them a lesson and make sure they would never even think of harassing anyone ever again, and now he is just a normal citizen. Just a face in the endless, dreary morning commute.

He wants to grab someone by the shoulders and yell his secret in their faces. Just so someone knows he’s doing it all for them.

But he buries his hands in his pockets and walks on.

A bell rings when he enters the antique shop. The Old Guard, it is called. And of course, it’s just a facade, but to his surprise, Joe genuinely likes working there. He likes being surrounded by ancient and not so ancient objects, he loves walking around in the chaotic assortment of precious art pieces and absolute junk. He often wonders how Andy has gotten hold of all these things, but however sneakily he tries to coax it out of her, she always sees right through his schemes and just shrugs.

He puts everything ready and turns the sign of the door around so the ‘open’ side is facing the street. He glances at the numerous grandfather clocks lining one of the walls. Booker is late. Maybe on a job Joe forgot about, so he guesses he’s on his own for today.

He’s staring at some lists with a lot of numbers he doesn’t understand much about because 1) this is usually Booker’s job and 2) he’s running on three hours of sleep and caffeine, when the phone rings. He picks up immediately, grateful for something else to do.

“The Old Guard Antiques, with Joe, how can I help you?”

“I’ve got a job for you.” Andy.

“Hello to you, too,” Joe says, glancing about for customers, though the bell hasn’t made a sound yet all morning. He lowers his voice just to be sure. “And a job? So soon? I just finished the last one this night.”

He can barely hide his excitement, he quickly checks his free hand, making sure he doesn’t start glowing by accident.

“It’s urgent. We’ve got word that someone is after Lykon’s bracers.”

“Lykon’s bracers?” Joe’s happy mood sobers. Lykon was one of their team once. But the life of a superhero is never without danger. Things went terribly wrong on a mission a long time ago, and Lykon had sacrificed himself so the rest could get out with the people they were saving. They went back later, but despite his healing powers, he hadn’t been able to use them on himself in time.

His bracers still hold fragments of his powers, though, just like Joe’s rings will when he dies. Every hero has such a token, and there are rumors it might grant the powers to someone else if used right. But so far, no one has tried yet. All superheroes agree that it’s simply too morbid and intruding.

“Yes.” Andy sighs. “I knew I shouldn’t have given it to the museum. It would’ve been safer with us after all.”

“Hey, boss, don’t beat yourself up. It was the best option back then. So, who’s after it?”

“Some rich megalomaniac called Merrick. You know, the usual. The theft is planned for this Friday. Booker is at the museum now to find a way to get you inside and get a layout from the building. He’ll be on it for the rest of the week so you’re on shop duty alone for a while.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll send you some more details you can look through. How did it go last night?

“It went well,” Joe answers, but it’s a tad too late and of course Andy notices.

“But?”

Joe sighs. “But the Shadow showed up and I had just gotten them right where I wanted them, but when I rounded the corner, he’d taken care of them already.”

“The guy’s good,” Andy says and the appraisel in her voice makes a spike of jealousy flash through his chest.

“Maybe you should ask him to join us, then,” he says and he hates how annoyed he sounds.

Andy chuckles on the other end. “Have to figure out who he is first.”

Just some pretentious bastard thinking he’s too good to talk with other superheroes. But Joe is tired talking about him.

“So how are you and Nile? Have you found her yet?”

“No, no sign yet.” All mirth has left Andy’s voice and Joe’s heart clenches.

“It’s only a matter of time. We’ll find her. Or she’ll find us again, she wouldn’t leave us like that.” She wouldn’t leave you.

“Let’s hope so,” Andy says with a heavy sigh. “Gotta go, I’ll send you the information. Keep me updated, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss. Say hi to Nile from me.”

He’s breaking his head over the lists again when the bell makes him startle.

His throat runs dry when he looks up because the most beautiful man in all the universe has just entered the shop. Joe really shouldn’t be so dumbfounded by the man, because objectively speaking he is rather plain-looking with that simple hair cut and those pants that are really doing nothing for him, but still. Even like that, he has something incredibly mesmerising to Joe.

He pretends to look back at the lists for a while, but glances at the customer every now and again from the corner of his eye.

When the man has been wandering around for a while and has been staring at those small angel statuettes for five minutes already, Joe slips from behind the counter and goes to him.

“Good morning, sir, can I be of some assistance?”

The man turns around and a small smile appears around his mouth when he sees Joe, melting Joe’s heart into a puddle.

“Maybe. I’m looking for a birthday gift for my nonna, but I don’t know which archangel she would like more.”

And to Joe’s surprise, the man goes on to explain the different meanings behind them which is incredibly fascinating - and not only because his hand gestures are so elegant and his eyes are alight with a passionate glow that Joe would describe as moonlight in one of his poems. And Joe is all too happy to chip in with his own knowledge of art and iconology.

They get so caught up in their conversation that Joe jumps when the grandfather clocks start their various announcements of the fact that it is twelve o’clock. The man startles too by the cacophony and glances at his watch.

“Oh, I should get going. I’ll take this one.” And he picks out Joe’s favorite.

He follows Joe to the cash register and pays.

“I am Joe, by the way,” Joe says when he’s wrapping the statue in bubble plastic to protect it.

“Nicky, nice to meet you,” Nicky says and Joe can’t keep the wide smile from his face.

“We should do that again some time,” he says, gathering all his courage. “Talk, I mean, not necessarily buying or selling angel statuettes.”

Nicky laughs, and the little snort makes Joe’s heart jump to his throat. “Let’s grab some dinner then, when are you available?”

“Only Friday wouldn’t work for me,” Joe says.

“I can’t make it on Friday either, so let’s say Saturday? Here, let me get your number,” Nicky says and picks his phone from his pocket.

They exchange numbers and say their goodbyes, Nicky flashing a last smile at him from the door before leaving Joe helplessly lost behind his cash register.

Focus, Yusuf! Yusuf chastizes himself when his mind has wandered off to what he’s going to wear for his date tomorrow for what must be the millionth time. You’re supposed to be watching out for a thief, focus!

Yusuf takes a deep breath and scans the room again. He’s hidden in a very uncomfortable position against the ceiling, holding on to a pillar that grants him a view of the entire exhibition room. If he didn’t have his powers, there was no way he could have endured this position for so long, and while it would have been even easier if the sun was out, he manages.

The minutes are ticking by, no sign of a thief yet. The bracers are still safely in their display case beneath him.

Then there’s a movement, ever so slightly, by the windows. Yusuf’s eyes latch onto it, but it’s gone so soon that he almost thinks it’s a trick of his mind.

Always trust your instincts, Andy told them over and over again. Our minds don’t play tricks on us.

Sure enough, there’s another flutter in the shadows. No, not in the shadows. Of the shadows.

One of them is moving.

Joe curses inwardly, of course Merrick has hired the Shadow.

He waits for the Shadow to reach the display case. Then, when he reaches over the glass, Yusuf slides down right behind him. He reaches for him, letting out a sound of victory when his hands guess correctly and circle around the Shadow’s neck. He lets his hands glow, unleashing the heat he’s always containing.

Surprised by the sudden attack, the Shadow turns visible and Yusuf stumbles back out of pure shock.

He’s all clad in black, with a balck version of a mask not unlike Yusuf’s own, but Yusuf would recognise the eyes peeking through it anywhere. Those eyes that are unmistakably glowing with moonlight now.

“Nicky?” Yusuf exclaims.

“Joe?”

Nicky seems just as confused as Yusuf who’s still looking him up and down as if he might change into someone else after all - and oh man, these tight pants are definitely doing things for him. Nicky recovers faster from the shock, though.

“Sorry, but I really gotta take these,” he says and before Yusuf can make his muscles move again, Nicky already has the bracers in his hands and is dashing for the windows.

“Wait no!” Yusuf sprints after him, but Nicky whisps away into shadow-form again and slips through a slightly opened window.

“Nicky!” Yusuf screams after him. He opens the window wider - not alarming the guards be damned - and looks out over the city. But there’s no trace of Nicky.

His heart is pounding. Nicky, the beautiful man he is already head over heels with, is the Shadow. Not only is he the Shadow, but he has also stolen Lykon’s bracers for some capitalist asshole.

Shit.

“Is our date still on tomorrow?” Yusuf calls weakly into the night.

#this got way too long i'm sorry #i got so carried away with this au so yeah there will be more most likely!! hence the cliffhanger hehe #anyway i hope some of you like this silly au too!#duolingo prompts #superhero!au #the old guard #joe x nicky #joenicky #immortal husbands #kaysanova #userbooker #usertriz #swquser #demonicneonfishy

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soukokuwu · 4 years

Note

Sushi.. sushi.. What if.. hear me out. An organization or something finds out Chooya has an S/O and targets them. Threatens to kill them, you could make it that they kill them. I dunno— You have so much fluff requests and I just wanna.. allow you to make some angst and break my fragile heart.

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➥ angst [chuuya x reader]

➥ warning/s: death

➥ word count: 2.5k

➥ summary: the things that make chuuya human.

➥ notes: seven! i made this a full fic too if you don’t mind and and i hope this can make you sad 😔✊🏼

Life is a series of moments.

Meeting you was arguably the best moment of Chuuya’s life. Being with you was probably the best decision he’s ever made. Every moment with you was fleeting, but precious.

Being a Port Mafia executive didn’t allow for a lot of free time, especially not for someone as formidable as Nakahara Chuuya. Most days he is worked to the bone, and he can’t seem to refuse orders no matter how much you nagged at him to take care of himself.

You never once made him feel bad about it though. No matter how many times he’s showed up late to meet you, or how many times he’s had to cancel dates. Even when he had to celebrate your birthday late because something urgent came up that Mori absolutely needed him to handle that night.

Chuuya always made up for it. Always surprising you with his sweetness, although you’ve never expected him to do anything for you. The mafia was very important to him, and you knew that. You accepted that, why would you have agreed to be with him otherwise? You understood very well that it meant busy schedules and danger, but you loved him more than you would ever allow yourself to be petty or scared of his enemies.

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Life is a series of moments; some more fleeting than others.

Chuuya remembered all of them. Some were small yet important moments.

The first moment he saw you walk into the cafe. All he had wanted was to spend lunch alone, away from headquarters, away from all the headache. You were a soothe to his migraines, something he had not bargained for. Thank god the cafe was packed and he was the nearest to you; you wouldn’t have sat with him otherwise.

The first moment your hands brushed against each other on the first date; it was a simple movie date. The cliché hands brushing against each other on the armrest kind of thing. Where he would usually gag upon thinking of such things, when he replayed it in his head with you as the subject, he’d always smile at the memory.

The first moment your lips found each other, the way your tongues danced in harmony with the taste of wine still lingering in each other’s tongues. How could he ever forget? It was the first time his heart pounded so loudly he felt it might jump out of his chest. That was when he asked you to be his girlfriend. And you gave him the answer he prayed for.

The first moment you slept over and it was filled with innocent intimacy— Chuuya’s chest pressed up against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist and the scent of your hair permeating his senses. He remembered you chuckling as you told him to quit looking at you and sleep, and he remembered the way goosebumps formed on your skin as he whispered, low and raspy, into your ear a “goodnight, my princess.”

Then there were subtle moments that slowly spiralled into something bigger.

The first moment he visited your parents with you, and they had been so warm and welcoming. Had it not been for them, Chuuya would have never known ‘parental love’. They were people with such kind souls; they accepted him as an ability user, said that he was welcome anytime, even if you weren’t there with him. And he immediately knew where you got your kind nature from. They never expected anything more from him than the usual; to treat their daughter right. And damn right he would. When you had gone to the restroom they looked at him with such genuity as they said they’d be blessed if they ended up with such a sweet son-in-law like him.

The first moment you talked with him about the possibilities of having a family, expecting him to freak out but instead he agreed. He’d be honoured to have one with you. And you told him he’d have to come up with a heck of a proposal to lock you in forever. The both of you were aware of what a lie that was, though— you’ve had each other’s hearts since the first few dates, there was no way you’d say no.

But the moment he treasured the most? The life-changing moments.

The day he actually did propose, in a simple humble way— in front of the only people who mattered: you and your parents. He had asked for your parents’ permission to take your hand in marriage beforehand, and they easily agreed, welcoming him with open arms. He still remembered that being the first day your father called him ‘son’, and they had shared the warmest hug he’s ever felt from anyone other than you.

The moment you said ‘yes’ and the both of you had tears in your eyes. He had slipped the ring through your finger and got up from his knee, hugging his now-fiancée, your parents clapping in the background.

“I’ll protect you forever, my princess,” Chuuya vowed.

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But life-changing moments could mean both good and bad, and that day set the tone for the rest of Chuuya’s life, whether he liked it or not.

“Okay but promise you’ll be back later?” you had asked him, getting up to send him off at the door for yet another mission.

“I promise, my princess,” he replied, smiling at you and giving you a quick peck on the cheek. Chuuya noticed your wide grin and arched a brow. “What’re you so smiley about? Has all the wedding planning got to your head?”

You playfully punched him on the shoulder and looked around to make sure no one was near— the both of you had been at your parents’ house to ask them for opinions on the wedding. It was coming up in a month and everything was almost settled. Almost.

“Hmm, I’m not too sure about it yet, but I’ll leave it as a surprise when you get home later,” you teased, sticking out your tongue.

Chuuya let out a resigned sigh, ruffling your hair. “Fine, I’ll try to be back as fast as I can then,” he told you, giving you another kiss before he turned to go.

And he did make it back.

Just not in time.

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Please be okay, please be okay.

It replayed like a chant in his head as he continued to make a beeline to get to you. Flashes of your smile crossed his mind as he sped through the city on his bike, tears already streaming down his face. He prayed and prayed for your safety, although the rational part of him knew that it was useless. The only one who could do anything was him.

He should’ve caught on sooner. The enemies were buying time by drawling out the fight with him. They were angry at the Port Mafia— more specifically, with Chuuya— for killing their leader. And they wanted him to pay for it.

But they knew they weren’t going to get his head.

So they went for the next best thing: you.

Their earlier conversation replayed in Chuuya’s head, no matter how much he begged for it to stop.

“You’re the vessel of a god, of Arahabaki, aren’t you?” the new leader had taunted, unfazed by Chuuya’s presence. “You’ve never known fear, or danger, have you? To be weak, to be... human.”

“Get to the point, asshole.”

“I don’t really have one, except...” and he had grinned, the most triumphant grin he’s ever had. “I know your weakness.”

Chuuya had rolled his eyes. “Then come at me, if you dare,” the redhead had coolly replied, completely unperturbed. But the next sentence that had floated to his ears might as well have killed him.

“Oh, I’m not going to do shit to you, boy,” the leader had revealed. His grin had grown even wider. “Let me show you how human you can be.”

And he did.

The sight that greeted Chuuya when he got to your parents’ house he’d never forget. White mahogany door wide open, the lock broken, no lights on and the biggest kick to the guts? Even a few feet away from the house, he could see the blood spattered on the floor.

As he rushed into the house, it played in his mind over and over again — your smile, your laugh, the way you moved, the way you loved; all the moments you spent together, or even when you were apart and all he could think of was you. Now, he wasn’t even religious but he was praying to god that you were safe.

But life was harsh. It dashed his hopes in a matter of seconds. Because moments later, he had your lifeless body in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks and your blood getting on his face as he tried to kiss you awake.

“No, no, please come back to me, please wake up,” he mumbled, over and over, touching your bloody face and kissing your eyelids, hoping that they’d somehow open. “I haven’t made you my wife yet please get up, princess.”

But your body temperature said you’d been there for a few hours already. It was pointless.

The moment he gathered the courage to look around the room, he wished he didn’t. There, just a few feet away from you, at the edge of the living room, next to the kitchen counter, your parents lay beside each other, hands clasped together, bodies as lifeless as yours.

And as his eyes caught on to what you had been holding onto as you died, Chuuya’s heart fell.

It was your ‘surprise’ for him.

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Life is full of fleeting moments.

Life, in itself, could be fleeting.

A month later, he brought flowers for each of you. He’d been diligent this time, in visiting your graves everyday. You had no other close family members, so he’d had to settle everything. All of you were next to each other, and as he looked at your gravestones, an image of the four of you having your last meal together at your parents’ house flashed across his mind.

He stifled back the tears. No, not out here. Not again. Chuuya had already lost count of how many times he’s grieved for too long at the cemetery. Not today. No. Today was supposed to be your wedding. Yet here he was, standing on your grave.

Chuuya clenched his fist at the thought, and then remembered the flowers he brought. He brought one for each of you.

He placed a bouquet on your father’s grave. He had tied a note to it, saying ‘It would’ve been an honor to be your son, dad.’ Chuuya couldn’t hold his tears in any longer as he thought about the way he had so warmly welcomed Chuuya into the family. The way he called him ‘son’, how they’d just watch tv together in the living room while you and your mother would be preparing their favourite meal. He remembered your father whispering to him, “you know, I never thought I wanted a son, until I met you.” They had shared a hug after that. “You’re a good kid.”

Chuuya clenched his fist. If there was something he could hit he would. No. How could he be a good kid? His mere involvement with his daughter led to their entire family’s demise. How could he be good? How could he have ever deserved to be called ‘son’ by the man who gave him the kind of love he wished he always had?

The tears didn’t stop there, because they got even heavier as Chuuya turned to look at your mother’s grave. He placed another bouquet on her’s, the note tied there said ‘You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and I’m so glad your daughter took after you.’ Because it’s true. He’s heard of the sacrifices your mother’s made for the family. How she put everything she wanted aside for you and your father, so you could each live out your dream while she stayed put and became the mother and wife that you both needed. Chuuya never spent a lot of time alone with her, but he remembered your father telling him, “I’d die for her. I’d kill anyone who tried to come near her.”

You should’ve killed me, you should’ve turned me away. You shouldn’t have let me be with your daughter. It’s all my fault.

And as he walked over to your grave, he held two bouquets. No, he didn’t miscalculate. He put one down, to which the note said ‘If I could’ve done it all over again, I would’ve loved you right.’ Chuuya fell to his knees as he recalled everything about you; every memory he had with you. How close you two were coming to being blissful. It had been a month since that fateful night, and today was supposed to be the day of the wedding.

Slowly, he pulled a note out of his pocket and looked at your name carved in the headstone. “Hey princess,” he whispered, trying hard not to choke on his tears. “We, uh, never got to do this so let me read you mine, okay? But only if you promise not to laugh.”

And he laughs at how stupid he was being. He wished you could laugh, and tell him how silly it sounded. But you couldn’t. He still read it out loud for you anyway.

“Never in all my life, did I think I’d be so lucky as to be able to marry someone like you. You’re my best friend, my confidant, my lover, my home. I’ll follow you wherever you go, and I promise to support you in whatever you do. I’ve always wondered how you always seem to make me feel at home, and I found the answer in your parents.” Chuuya looked over to their graves, more tears threatening to spill out. “Mom, dad, I’m so glad I’m finally able to be a part of your family now when I’ve never had one. You have both taught me what it means to be a good parent,” and the redhead turns his attention back to your grave, softly calling your name. “I promise I’ll be the best husband, and I promise to put you... and our baby first.”

And then he placed down the other bouquet right next to yours. “How silly of me, vowing to put you both first but failing to protect either of you,” he choked out as he cried.

That night he lost everything. The only real parental figures he ever had, the love of his life, and the only one he could possibly love more than you.

He stared at the note on the last bouquet: ‘I wish you could’ve seen the world, I would’ve given you everything, my child.’

Chuuya lost what was, what is, and what could’ve been, all in one night. All solely because he existed.

He felt everything; grief, loss, terror. He’s dying on the inside. He’s never felt more human.

And he thinks he’ll never recover.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @sigmas-cursedcookies-writing

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

Text

Party Favors

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki comes to the rescue when your nephews’ birthday party is on the brink of disaster. Warnings: some curse words and implied smut; fluff

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“No! Don’t run there. It’s slippery.”

“Hang on, the bathroom’s right inside.”

“There’s going to be cake later, and you don’t want to get a tummy ache.”

Gosh, kids were tiring. You’d promised your sister, Katie, that you’d help out at your nephews’ birthday party. It was a sticky summer afternoon, but the heat did nothing to slow down the thirty-something kids running around the backyard. Between neighbors, classmates, and camp friends, the birthday boys had quite the guest list. Your sister and brother-in-law were both chaperoning the party, along with some other parents, but you were still outnumbered. Even if you weren’t, kids in large groups seem to have a penchant for trouble. It sure didn’t help that they were all at the age where chaos seemed like average fun.

Spotting the twins, you decided to take a few photos for your sister, who was busy running around to make sure everything was running smoothly. “Hey, Timmy. Hey, Tommy. How’re my favorite nephews today?” you said after snapping a few shots.

“But Auntie (y/n),” Timmy started, “we’re your only nephews.”

“Yeah, and we’re eight now,” Tommy continued for his brother. “You can’t trick us anymore.”

“We’re big boys now,” they finished together.

“I guess you are,” you replied, laughing. “Not too big for the bouncy house, I hope.”

“Of course not, Auntie. Bye!” they shouted, running towards the inflatable castle.

You walked over to the boys’ father, Lucas, and helped him check all the Slip 'N Slides and water balloon supplies. Just when you thought you might get through the day without any disasters, your sister came running up to you and Lucas.

“The clown just cancelled. There was a huge traffic jam and he can’t make it in time,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“That’s all right,” Lucas said. “I’ve been saving some grade-A dad jokes for a situation like this.”

Both you and Katie groaned, eliciting a hurt scoff from her husband. And then a genius idea hit you.

“Wait a minute, guys. I literally work with superheroes.”

A few years ago, you’d scored a position at Stark Industries and, though you’d never worked in the field, often helped the team from the lab. You’d even played a large role in designing Tony’s latest suit.

“Could you really get one of them to come? I mean, aren’t they busy?” your sister asked.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure that they were free, but they definitely owed you a favor. You’d saved their butts more times than you could count. It was, at very least, worth a try. You found the quietest place you could, then called Tony. Then Thor. Then Steve. Then Nat. None of them picked up. In a desperate last attempt, you phoned the Tower hoping someone would pick up. F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered and confirmed the presence of one Avenger in the Tower. You immediately asked her to put them on, not bothering to check who it was.

“Hi. I have an urgent matter and need to call in a favor.”

“And since when do I owe you one?” a smooth baritone came from the other end of the line.

Shit, you thought, of all the people in the Tower it had to be him. You and Loki got along well enough, but you weren’t friends, per se. The two of you constantly kept up a witty banter that was often flirtatious. The others teased you about it, and you were sure they placed bets on which one of you would ask the other out first. That, of course, was stupid, as Loki obviously did not feel that way about you. And how you felt? Well, it was best not to dwell on it.

“Oh, hi Loki. Sorry, you weren’t who I was expecting. Where’s everyone else?”

“Out at the movies. They should be back in half an hour, if your urgent matter can wait that long.” You let out a frustrated groan, which prompted him to say, “Well, that’s certainly not how I imagined getting that sound out of you.”

You were thankful he wasn’t there to see you blush. You didn’t know if you could wait that long for the rest of the Avengers. That didn’t even include the time it would take for them to actually arrive. You were about to hang up and tell Katie she better try to find a replacement clown or magician when you got your second great idea that afternoon.

“Loki,” you said, “I’m sending you my location. Just come over as fast as you can. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Then you hung up before he could respond. You raced to the front of the house to wait but were nervous that he wouldn’t show. You didn’t have long to worry, though, because he suddenly materialized, making you jump a little. Sometimes you forgot that he could teleport.

“Your savior is here,” he declared, striking a dramatic pose.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. My hero,” you said before explaining the situation to him.

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not very popular with the masses, (y/n). I think you’d be better off waiting for one of the others.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he tried to hide the sadness behind those words. Before he could leave, you protested, “Kids may love superheroes, but you know what they love even more? Magicians!”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. “I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion. Besides, I don’t much appreciate being reduced to a mere magician.” He stopped for a second to tap his chin as if deep in thought, before continuing, “But, I suppose if you ask nicely, I might consider it.”

You made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lower lip while giving him a pouty please. He considered you for a moment before responding.

“Very well,” he said. “I will save you this time. Just remember that you owe me. In fact, I’ve already got just the thing in mind.”

The devilish grin he gave you with that last part caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine. He noticed but decided not to push his luck. Besides, he genuinely found it cute. In fact, he found everything about you cute. However, he refused to acknowledge the way his heart beat faster when you took his hand to lead him into the house. As you were walking, he conjured a classic magician outfit for himself. Though, he opted to have green accents instead of the traditional red. When you turned back around to face him, you couldn’t stop the girlish giggle that escaped your lips.

“Like what you see, darling?” he asked, striking a pose.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Despite your harsh response, you were blushing. As much as you were loath to admit it, he was rather dashing in the suit and top hat. You felt a sudden rush of nervousness as you introduced him to Katie and Lucas. You could see on their faces that they were trying to figure out where they knew Loki from. The second they connected the dots, their faces fell, but the reassuring smile you gave them must have worked since they started gathering the kids for the show. In all honesty, you hadn’t thought about their reaction to his being there. Or the other parents’ reaction, for that matter. It was hard to remember that the world was still clinging to the madman he’d been at the battle of New York when you knew he was just a witty prankster. Actually, he did a lot of good for the world. To you, he was just Loki.

You offered him a grateful smile as he stepped up in front of the kids and introduced himself as Loki the Magnificent. For as reluctant as he was in agreeing to this, he was putting on quite a show for them. It was a good thing, too, considering how brutally honest kids could be. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when it became apparent how enraptured all the children were with his act. He even brought Timmy and Tommy onstage to assist him with a few tricks. You made sure to take tons of pictures, partly for your sister, but mainly to tease Loki with later.

Once he finished his last trick, the kids were seated at various tables and the cake was brought out. You wanted to run up to Loki and thank him, but you had to help distribute the cake. After double checking that all the kids got a slice, you brought a piece to Loki.

“Hey, you were great up there. And I guess you really saved my ass,” you said, mumbling the last part.

“It was my pleasure. Believe it or not, I had fun.”

He raised a bit of cake on his fork in a sort of salute to you. You fully expected him to leave once he finished eating, but, to your surprise, he stayed even after all the guests had gone. You two were cleaning up the junk in the backyard when you found yourself thanking him again.

“Really,” you said, “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Well mortal, let this be a lesson on how superior I am and-”

His sentence was cut short by you dumping a bucket of water down his back. You were laughing so hard that you didn’t notice him get one of his own to return the favor. You shrieked in delight as he started hurling leftover water balloons at you. You ran away from him, but his aim was impeccable. Pretty soon, you were drenched. Though you were able to seize some ammunition of your own, you were no match for the god.

“Okay, okay,” you shouted to him, bent over, trying to catch your breath. “Truce.”

“No way,” he replied, running up behind you and grabbing you by the waist. Lifting you into the air and spinning, he said, “I’m claiming this as a victory!”

Your laughter was making such a racket that Katie came to see what was going on. Through giggles, you apologized to her, but she just waved you off. Seeing as you and Loki were both sopping wet, she thanked you for all your help and sent you home to dry off. You wondered why she didn’t let you stay there to do so, but the smirk on her face answered that. Rolling your eyes at her, you said goodbye and then shouted farewells to Lucas and your nephews, who were inside.

You and Loki made your way to your car in a peaceful silence. You offered him a ride, but he insisted on teleporting you home instead. Only problem was, he brought you straight to his bedroom, not your home. You gave him a quizzical look that demanded he explain himself.

“Don’t forget, little one. You owe me a favor.”

“Oh yeah? Bring it on.”

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After their movie ended, the Avengers tried to return your calls. You never did pick up. They didn’t have to wonder why for long, though. The sounds coming from a certain bedroom answered that question perfectly.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #reader insert #fluff #loki fluff #marvel #mcu

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engie-ivy · 4 years

Text

Since I loved writing the first one, I wrote another fic for @swottypotter Wolfstar Comfort Mini-Fest. I really wanted to write a birthday-themed fic for 23/09, as today is my birthday🎉 So this is my birthday treat to you😅

It became way longer than I intended, so my (theme-related) apologies.

23/09: an apology

Summary:

Keeping your relationship healthy can be a challenge. In the middle of a war, dealing with secrets, false accusations and unjust suspicions, it’s even more of a challenge. But a fight can lead to an apology, an apology can lead to forgiveness, and forgiveness just might lead to happiness. And as it turns out, not all secrets are bad.

If tomorrow the world crumbles

Sirius is freaking out. Outwardly, nothing seems amiss. He’s sitting at the kitchen table in the flat he shares with Remus, reading the Daily Prophet. Inwardly, however, he’s on the verge of panic. He has been on edge all morning, his hands are fidgeting, and he has been staring at the same sentence for the last hour.

You see, Sirius doesn’t know where Remus is. Normally this wouldn’t be such a problem. They’re not attached at the hip. They’re in a healthy relationship and respect each other’s independence. But Remus is acting secretive, which still wouldn’t have been such a problem, if they didn’t have loaded conversation about that very thing just a few weeks ago. The war had been taking its toll on them and miscommunication, false accusations and unjust suspicions were threatening to break their relationship.

It started when James asked Sirius to come over for a meeting with him, Lily and Dumbledore. The threat to Lily and James was getting more serious and they needed to talk about an option that involved Sirius’s help. James asked Sirius not to tell anyone. Sirius didn’t even consider this to include Remus, and he thinks James didn’t either. What Sirius knows, Remus knows, that’s just how it is. The only reason Sirius didn’t tell Remus right away, was because Remus just happened to not be home at the time.

During the meeting, Dumbledore informed them about something called the Fidelius charm, and how it was James and Lily’s best chance of survival if the situation were to get worse. They talked about the technicalities of the charm, the best practice of how to implement it, and the possibility of Sirius being the Secret Keeper. By the end of that first meeting, it was Dumbledore who asked Sirius not to tell anyone. Once again, Sirius had agreed, without considering it to include Remus as well, but unlike James had done, Dumbledore pressed the issue further. There was a traitor amongst the members of the Order of the Phoenix, and they were completely in the dark about who it could be, so the general rule had to be to not tell anyone, no exceptions. Dumbledore assured Sirius this did not mean they thought Remus was the traitor, it simply meant they didn’t have concrete proof that he wasn’t the traitor. None of them could imagine Remus ever betraying them, but then again, that could be said for all their friends, and one of them was undeniably betraying them, so that line of reasoning simply couldn’t be applied anymore.

So Sirius had to go behind Remus’s back. Sirius went to meetings with Dumbledore, James and Lily without informing Remus. They discussed the information Dumbledore was getting from his non-disclosed spies, and tried to monitor how urgent the threat against James and Lily was, and they discussed the risks that being the Secret Keeper would involve for Sirius (“Are you sure you want to do this, Pads?” “Yes, Prongs, I’m sure.” “Don’t you need more time to decide if you want to put your life at risk just to help me?” “Prongs, I’ve known I’d give my life to protect you since I was twelve. I’ve had plenty of time.”). Every time Sirius got back, he ignored Remus’s questions. He could barely look Remus in the eye, because every time he did, he could see the hurt and confusion. His solution was to avoid Remus as much as he could after these meetings.

If things weren’t already strained, they got really bad when Remus started acting strange. He was going on Order missions much more often. Normally, Sirius knew exactly what type of mission Remus was on. Having someone to talk about it helped them stay sane, and sharing information and gaining more knowledge on the enemy could be beneficial. Now Remus suddenly had all these Order missions Sirius didn’t know anything about, and Remus wouldn’t tell him anything about. It was unsettling. Remus never flat out refused to answer his questions, which Sirius would’ve preferred, as then they could’ve had an apparently much-needed argument, but Remus gave these infuriating meaningless answers. “It went as you would expect.” “You know how these things go.” “It’s no use dwelling on it.” “We did what we had to do.” Remus started to stay away for longer periods of time, and the longer he stayed away, the snippier Sirius got with him. They couldn’t talk about the war or the Order anymore without one of them storming off, but the war consumed every aspect of their lives, so eventually they didn’t seem to be able to talk about anything anymore.

Things went from really bad to even worse when suspicion started creeping in. Sirius tried to think rational, to not let himself be blinded by his feelings for Remus, which were, despite everything, still so strong, but to look at the facts. There was a traitor in their midst and Remus was evidently keeping things from him. Remus caught him looking through some of his papers one night (some cut-out articles on Lycanthropy, some maps of England and Scotland, a letter from his dad; nothing incriminating). Sirius had expected Remus to snap, like he was constantly snapping at Remus these days, but Remus had just stood there and looked at him with so much hurt in his eyes that it made Sirius want to disappear.

The following morning, Remus was gone. Sirius found a note with just four words scribbled on it:

On an Order mission

Remus stayed away for two weeks. All that time, Sirius didn’t hear from him, not a single word, not any sign of life. Every time the thought crossed Sirius’s mind that he didn’t even know if Remus was still alive, it was immediately followed by the thought he didn’t even say goodbye.

Then, after two weeks, Remus came home. It really was as simple as that: opening the door and walking into the kitchen. He looked terrible. Pale, tired, thin, cuts on his hands and face. Sirius had been sitting on the couch and he watched Remus come in, feeling a whole range of emotions coursing through his body. He focussed on the anger and clung to it like a lifeline, as that was the emotion he knew, the emotion he grew up with, the emotion he knew how to express. The other emotions were too unfamiliar, too scary, too revealing.

“Where were you?” Sirius got up from the couch and stood behind Remus, who was standing at the kitchen counter stirring a Strenthening Potion, back turned to Sirius.

“Order mission,” Remus replied, without turning around to face Sirius. “Left a note.”

Sirius folded his arms over his chest. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“No,” Remus replied in a flat tone. “I’m also going to say that I'm tired and I’m going to bed.”

“Fuck you, Remus,” Sirius hissed. “You think a four-word note justifies two weeks of absence?”

Remus finally turned around and glared at Sirius. “I don’t have to justify anything to you.”

“So you can just do whatever the fuck you like then?” Sirius asked. “Disappearing whenever to wherever doing whatever, and leaving me without even an inkling of when you’ll be back?”

“Don’t you dare, Sirius!” Remus shouted, pointing the spoon he was holding at Sirius’s chest, sending a few droplets flying. “Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t put this all on me when you’re the one who bloody started it. Leaving to secret meetings, not telling me what for or why I wasn’t allowed to join, acting distant and evasive. And I’m supposed to sit you down with a cup of tea and trust you with every detail of my missions when I get back?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “So that’s what this is about then? You don’t trust me. Do you think I’m the traitor, Remus?”

“No, you stupid idiot!” Remus smashed his cup down in the sink. “I don’t think you’re the traitor, I think that you think I’m the traitor, and that’s even fucking worse!”

“Well, what am I supposed to bloody think, then?” Sirius shouted back. “You’re obviously keeping things from me! How is this sketchy behaviour going to make anything better? Why couldn’t you just come talk to me, so you could have proven that you’re not-”

“Because I shouldn’t have to proof anything to you!” A hint of pain was seeping through in Remus’s frustration. “All my life I’ve had to proof myself to everyone, and all my life I’ll have to continue proving myself, simply because of what I am, but not to you. Never to you. You’re supposed to believe in me! You’re the one person who’s supposed to be on my side.”

“And I was,” Sirius said, trying to make Remus understand. “But you know how I am, how I overthink, how I get in my head. And then you leave me alone with my own thoughts without so much as a word?”

“You were already shutting me out,” Remus replied. “Leaving me alone with my anxieties and insecurities.”

“I was gone for a couple of hours, at most,” Sirius defended himself. “You were gone for two weeks, two weeks of me having no idea where you were. Two weeks, Remus! How could you even think that was okay? How could you do that to me? I thought something had happened to you! I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought...”

It was quite a remarkable thing. Sirius looked in Remus’s eyes and suddenly, in a single moment, all his anger seemed to dissipate. Because that was just the thing now, wasn’t it? He thought he was never going to look in those eyes again. He hadn’t been angry, mistrusting or betrayed, he had just been fucking scared. Scared that he was ruining the best thing in his life and didn’t know how to stop it, scared that something had happened to Remus, scared that he had lost him.

All the emotions that used to be hidden underneath thick layers of anger, were suddenly washing over him. Threatening to overwhelm him. Fear, sadness, hurt, guilt... It was too much all at once. Sirius’s legs gave out from under him and he crumbled to the floor. He was crying. For the first time in weeks, he was crying, and now there was no stopping it.

“I thought you weren’t coming back, Moony! And you didn’t even gave me a chance to say goodbye. I thought I would never get to tell you that I love anymore. I was so scared, Moony, I was so scared...”

Sirius felt two arms wrap around him from behind and he was pulled backwards against Remus’s chest. He heard Remus softly talking to him. “I came back, I’m here, I got you, I’m here, I’m not leaving...”

They stayed like that for a while. Remus sitting on his knees, his arms wrapped around Sirius, and Sirius clinging to him. Sirius used the steady rhythm of Remus’s breathing to ground himself. He spoke again when he regained some of his composure.

“I am on your side, you know.”

He felt Remus’s arms tighten around him.

“I never thought you were the traitor,” Sirius continued, and the moment he said it he knew it was true. He had tried to shut off his emotions and only use rational thinking. He had told himself that he couldn’t know for sure Remus was truly loyal to them, and that Remus’s behaviour was suspicious. But no matter how much he had tried to use only logical reasoning, deep in his heart he never truly believed Remus would ever betray them.

“Dumbledore and I were meeting with Prongs and Lils. They want to use the Fidelius charm to go into hiding, and we were discussing me being their Secret Keeper,” Sirius said, because he was just sick of it. Sick of pretence, sick of secrets, sick of feeling like half of him was missing.

“Dumbledore asked us not to tell anyone, no exceptions. Maybe I’m blinded by love and this will be my downfall, but Merlin, I’d rather face my downfall with you by my side than get through this war alone.”

“Moody wants a spy within Greyback’s werewolf community,” Remus replied. “We were trying to make connections, and infiltrate. Moody also told me to not tell anybody. Normally I wouldn’t even consider that to include you, but you were shutting me out. I guess I wanted to... get back at you? I was being petty and vindictive.”

“You were right to be.”

Sirius felt Remus shake his head.

“No. I should never have left without a word. It was cruel and selfish and I regretted it the moment I did it. Please know that I thought of you every day. Please know that I... Merlin, I’m sorry, Padfoot! I’m just so sorry. What I’ve put you through... I’m sorry.”

“No, Moony, it was my own stupidity,” Sirius replied. “Thinking I could just start keeping secrets from you and everything would be fine... I’m an idiot. I didn’t even try to talk to you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for creating this mess. I’m sorry for ruining everything we built together.”

“Don’t say that.” Remus’s voice suddenly sounded firm. “I’m here, aren’t I? And we’re talking.”

Sirius felt a glimmer of hope that they were actually working towards something good here, that this could be a new beginning instead of an inevitable end, that this fight was long-overdue, but maybe not too late.

After a silence, Remus whispered against his hair. “You’re going to be in a lot of danger.”

Sirius squeezed Remus’s hand. “So are you.”

“Fucking war,” Remus mumbled.

Sirius pushed himself up and turned to face Remus. They were now both sitting on their knees on the kitchen floor, looking at each other, their hands clasped together between them.

“This war is going to take so much from us,” Sirius said. “I don’t want it to take this as well, to take what we have.”

“Me neither,” Remus said. “But we’re still here, we’re still together, still fighting for us. And I’m not going to give up that fight.”

Sirius looked at Remus with a resolute expression on his face. “If we want to give us a fighting chance, we need to be honest with each other, believe each other, and trust each other.”

Remus looked back at him with the same kind of intent. “I promise I will. No matter what.”

Sirius held Remus’s hand a little tighter. “No matter what.”

From that moment on, it seemed like they managed to restore their relationship. They could rely on each other again for support and advice. Remus could vent to Sirius about the anger, frustration and powerlessness he had felt when seeing Greyback again. Sirius could check with Remus some of the plans he and James came up with regarding the going into hiding, such as the idea that has been playing in his head of making Peter the Secret Keeper in an unpredictable move, while he himself will serve as a distraction. He was slightly taken aback when Remus pressed him not to, but as Remus explained, he understood his reasoning. Remus had been worried about Peter lately. Peter seemed to have lost all hope that they could win this war, and he was terrified of what the opposing forces might do to them once they’d fall into their hands. Remus thought his fear might make Peter an easy target for You Know Who and his Death Eaters, and you never know what kind of bad decisions a desperate person can make. Sirius listened to Remus and decided to put that idea out of his head. He felt bad he hadn’t noticed Peter was in such a bad state, and this was just one of many reasons why he needed Remus in his life.

But it wasn’t just talking about plans and tactics. There were also moments of intimacy, calmness, happiness. Mornings of being tangled up in each other and not leaving the bed, afternoons of Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap while Remus reads to him, evenings of sitting on the carpet and eating greasy take-out, nights of dancing in the living room. Moments on which they could pretend there was no war.

But back to Sirius freaking out. You see, Remus is doing it again. He’s going to places and Sirius doesn’t know where, he’s talking to people and Sirius doesn’t know who. Once again, there’s something he’s keeping from Sirius. Sirius hasn’t confronted Remus, as he had promised to trust him. But had Remus not promised to be honest with him? Well, he’s obviously not. Sirius tries to not overthink it. Remus probably has a good reason, and he just has to wait until Remus is ready to tell him. He does trust Remus, he really does, but what if Remus doesn’t trust him anymore? Or what if he has tried, but just can’t forgive Sirius for his stupidity after all, and now he’s pulling away?

This morning, when Sirius woke up, Remus was gone. He hadn’t told Sirius where he was going, or even that he was going somewhere. The only thing there was, was another one of those damned notes, only three words this time:

Running some errands

Sirius tries to put his mind to rest as he apparates in Godric’s Hollow and makes his way over to James and Lily’s. James has asked him to come by to help him go over some documents the Order confiscated. Sirius told Remus about this, but he wonders if his boyfriend even remembers. Maybe the task can be a good distraction, but Sirius highly doubts he’ll be able to focus on any documentation right now.

He’s recognized by the protective spells surrounding the house, speaks the required passwords and steps into the hall. Unsuspecting, he walks into the living room.

“Surprise!”

The outcry is followed by a huge cloud of confetti flying in Sirius’s face. Startled, Sirius jumps backwards, and, once the cloud has subsided, looks around the room in shock. The room is excessively decorated with a large variety of garlands and balloons. In front of him are the grinning faces of his fellow Order members and friends Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Peter, James and Lily, and, of bloody course, Remus.

Sirius blinks. “What... What is this?”

“Oh, Merlin.” James steps forward and wraps him into a hug. “Moony wasn’t exaggerating when he said you had completely forgotten about your birthday.”

“My birthday?” Sirius asks dumbfounded. Is it November already? Yes, come to think of it, it is.

“And not just any birthday!” Lily exclaims. “Your twenty-first birthday! Who knows, maybe someday you’ll become an actual adult after all.”

“Let's not hope too hard, Lily,” Marlene grins.

Sirius looks around the circle of friends, still feeling rather overwhelmed. “Can I maybe talk to Moony for a second?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus says, as soon as their other friends are in the kitchen. “This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, Padfoot, I just wanted to do something nice for your birthday and you always love parties so much... I could tell you noticed something was up and I could tell you were freaking out. I really am very sorry, I should’ve-”

Sirius wraps his arms tightly around Remus. “You wonderful, kind, amazing man. I love you so much, but don’t ever do that to me again!”

Remus hugs him back. “But you do like it?”

Sirius pulls back just enough so he can look at him. “I do, but please, no more secrets. And we need to work on your note-writing skills. Really, Moons, first a four-word note and now a three-word one?”

The evening really couldn’t be better. James and Lily have prepared an elaborate dinnerl and they sit around the kitchen table, just eating, drinking, talking and laughing. By the end, they serve a large, home-made cake, complete with candles. Sirius has to make a wish while blowing out the candles, because apparently there’s no age-limit to that tradition. Sirius looks around the table, to Marlene, who’s leaning with her head on Dorcas’s shoulder, contently sipping her Butterbeer, to Fabian and Gideon, who are sporting identical goofy grins, to Peter, who’s bouncing in his chair from excitement (and a few sips of brandy too much), to James, who’s looking back at him with such incredible fondness, while his arms are wrapped around Lily’s waist, and to Remus, who’s sitting next to him, holding his hand underneath the table and leaning his head on his other hand, tilted towards him with his lips curled into a soft smile. Sirius blows out the candles.

Please, please let us make it through this.

“You really put way too much effort into this,” Sirius says, as Lily is dividing the cake.

“Well,” Lily replies. “You can make us all coffee then.”

It’s a well-established fact in their friend group that Sirius makes the best coffee, and therefore it’s usually his task, birthday or not.

Sirius grins. “Normally I shouldn’t be put to work on my birthday,” he says, while getting up from his chair. “But the idea of having to drink coffee made by any of you...”

Lily jokingly rolls her eyes at him. Sirius walks towards the kitchen counter, grabbing the container in which James and Lily keep their coffee. He opens it, and it’s like his heart stops and the whole world fades away for a moment. There’s no coffee in the container. Which is not the reason for his reaction. Sure, he likes coffee, but really not so much to have an almost-heart attack at the sight of a coffee container containing no coffee. No, in the container sits a small, black box.

Sirius picks it up and turns around. His friends have huddled behind the kitchen table, staring at him with huge, hopeful smiles, and James suddenly holding a bottle of champagne, but Sirius hardly registers any of that. The only thing he focusses on is Remus, sitting on one knee right in front of him. Sirius is crying before he has even processed what’s about to happen.

“I know you didn’t want any more secrets, but I promise you, this is the last one.” There’s a tremor in Remus’s voice, probably from keeping his emotions under control. “I don’t even know how to put in words what you mean to me. With you... I don’t just want to be a better person, I’ve actually become a better person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t had you. I am braver, because I can be scared around you, I am more confident, because I can be insecure around you, I am happier, because I can be sad around you. You embrace every part of me and make me feel like I’m enough. You’re it for me, Sirius. I know you aren’t thrilled about my note-writing skills, from a four-word note to a three-word note, but I’m afraid there’s one more. Open it.”

With shaking hands, Sirius opens the black box. Inside, he sees a beautiful, elegant silver ring, and a small piece of parchment tucked in the lid. Sirius takes it out and unfolds it, seeing it is, indeed, a two-word note:

Marry me?

“Yes,” Sirius manages to say through his tears. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” He flings himself forward to tackle Remus to the ground in a hug. He vaguely registers the sound of cheers and a champagne bottle popping open. He stares at Remus. “I’m yours, Remus Lupin,” he whispers, before kissing him.

Later that night, when they’re home and in bed, Sirius lying on his back with Remus nestled against him, head resting on his chest, Sirius has his hand stretched out in front of him, and both of them are staring at the ring around his finger, gleaming in the dim moonlight.

“When Prongs and I were discussing the idea of me proposing,” Remus says. “I said that a war was no time to be thinking about a wedding. Prongs replied that a war was no time to wait with the things you truly want, as tomorrow the whole world may crumble.”

“If tomorrow the world crumbles,” Sirius replies. “Having this, this evening, this moment, just this, makes it all worth it.”

#10daysofhealing #wolfstarcomfortminifest #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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kpopaddicted06 · 3 years

Text

Birthday surprise – one shot

Summary: Some things are happening when you’re less expecting them.

pairing: Stray Kids’s Lee Felix x reader

genre: best friends to lovers au

type: fluff, slight comedy, slight angst

words: 3.6k

warnings: parental abandone (father), cursing (I think?), mention of alcohol and suggestion of getting drunk

A/N: hope you’ll enjoy this one shot with our sunshine; thank you for reading it!

I was in my class when I got a message from my best friend telling me that he needs my help in the kitchen.

It’s not something new that Felix wants my help, but it’s a bit concerning the fact that he wants to cook, because that can end up either with one of us getting injured or the house burned down. Regardless that thought, as always I said that I will help him after I leave from university.

When I arrived at his house I entered using my spare key, not bothered to announce my presence since I knew his mother and older sister were at work and his little sister is usually out with her friends at this hour, so he must be alone. I left my shoes in the hall and went straight to the kitchen. What was waiting for me there left me with my mouth wide open, a complete disaster. There was flour spread all over the floor, a mountain of dishes was coming out of the sink, the counter and the table were full of ingredients and something that looked like burned brownies. But most importantly, my friend, Felix, was in the middle of everything and the cause of it.

“Yah! I told you I will help you, so why did you start without me?? Look at this kitchen Felix, your mother is going to kill you!”

“In my defense, I thought baking some brownies would be easier, but unfortunately I was wrong. You’re gonna help me clean this mess and cook like you promised, right?” He was looking at me with his best puppy eyes, but I won’t get caught in his trap. At least not this time.

“I will help you, with one condition.”

“Sure, go on.”

“You’ll let me throw you a birthday party this year!” I said grinning at my friend’s already sour look.

“Anything but not this one.” He said it with a serious look and in his deep voice that always makes me shiver.

“Buuut.. Felix, I want you to have a party... It’s your 20th birthday, pleeease!” I was whining like a little kid that didn’t get his favourite candy.

“Why is it so important to celebrate? You know I don’t like parties. So choose something else.”

I knew he didn’t like parties, but that was just because they reminded him of his father, who threw him an amazing birthday party 5 years ago just to announce that he’s leaving his family right in the middle of it, the reason being that he fell in love with someone else. It was a birthday and goodbye party at the same time. From that day onwards Felix hated parties. He only comes to my birthday party and to our other 7 friends. He turns down all the invitations in campus. I tried to change his mind but he would firmly refuse to go every time. But today was going to be different, I will convince him to accept having a birthday party this year.

“Felix, don’t you think is time to forget the past and live the present? I know it was hard for you, I was there when it happened, and I know the pain you went through after that. I will always be here for you, I only want you to be happy and forget about it, because now nothing bad can happen at your party anymore, you know that, right?“ I was talking calmly, trying to convince him through my eyes that I’m right. Felix knew that what I was saying was nothing but the truth, but the idea of having a birthday party after so many years was still on debate. I could see how much he was thinking about what I said and what decision he should make from the way he was frowning his eyebrows, and when I decided speak again he beat me to it first.

“Y/N, I know your intentions are good and all but... I don’t know what to say.”

“You just have to say “Yes” and I will do the rest. You don’t have to worry because I will make you the most amazing party ever, I promise!” I saw he was still hesitating to answer, so I asked him: “Don’t you trust me?” His response to this was almost instant.

“Of course I do.”

“Then say yes!”

“Fine! Yes...”

“Yayyy!! I promise I will do my best! Love you Yong-bok!”

“You only love me when I say yes...” He looks at me playfully this time and I start laughing.

“I know you love me too even if you don’t say it back!” I say happily hoping to lift up his mood.

“Yeah, I do.” He said while having an expression that I couldn’t really read on his face... His look was so full of... affection, and something more that I couldn’t catch since he changed his expression into an waiting smile. That snapped me out of my thoughts, realising he was waiting for my help with cleaning and cooking.

“So, do you know how to make brownies?”

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me why you need them so urgently?”

“Oh yeah, Chan hyung told me his grandparents are visiting from Australia tomorrow, and I promised to make them some brownies as an welcome gift.”

“Aww that’s very kind of you, but why would you promise something you can’t do?” I raised an eyebrow at him playfully.

“I don’t have money to buy a present and the ingredients were already brought by my mother, so I can use them for free. You know I’m a broke student just like you.”

“Fair enough. Let’s start cleaning first.”

He got in the military position of salute and shouted “Yes, ma’am!” I chuckled at his cuteness.

We start to clean the kitchen together and discuss about our classes today and the homework we have to finish for the next week. We’re done with all the work in about half an hour, afterwards we start working on the brownies. By the time we finished baking them, the kitchen was dirty again, but not as bad as the first time.

Felix was looking at me while biting his lip, a habit of his, then got closer to me with a napkin and started tapping my nose to clean it. I could feel my heart beating faster than it should because of the close proximity between us.

“You got some flour on your face.” He whispered.

I couldn’t make my brain send any words to my mouth. I was lost staring at his face; he was wearing blue contact lenses that matched perfectly with his blond fluffy hair. Having him this close allowed me to give a better look at his freckles. They make him look so adorable and that’s always killing me. I felt that I couldn’t breathe properly anymore, so I took the napkin from his hand and started cleaning myself, not before taking a step back to put some distance between us, hoping this would calm my racing heart.

When I looked back at Felix, he was cleaning the counter with an expressionless face. I didn’t say anything and started washing the dishes, both of us doing their own task quietly.

After the brownies were done, his mother and sisters came home too. His mother asked me to stay for dinner and I gladly accepted, because I love her cooking. During the dinner Felix was quieter than he normally is, but I brushed off the thought of asking him what happened because I assumed it must be about the party.

After dinner he drove me home and invited me for lunch tomorrow with the rest of our friends.

We went for lunch at our regular restaurant where we ordered our usual.

“So guys, I finally convinced Felix to let me do his birthday party this year and I need your help.” All the boys looked at me like I grew another head and I knew it was because they couldn’t believe me.

“You really did?” Seungmin asked after he recovered from the shock.

“Yeah, well after 5 years of putting pressure on him, he finally accepted.” I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“You’re amazing, Y/N!” Jisung and Hyunjin said in unison very excited.

“I know, I’m the best.” I said trying to look cool but failed when I started laughing.

“Ok. So we need to make a meeting without Felix to discuss the details later.” Came from Minho.

“You should probably stop talking because I’m right here guys, and it’s my party.” My heart melted when I saw Felix’s cute pouting face.

“You’re right, let’s meet this Sunday to make the plans at my house, ok?” Changbin suggested, to which we all agreed and continued eating our food.

The Sunday came fast and we all agreed to throw the party at Changbin’s place since his house is big enough and his parents told us they would leave to some friends so we can have all the house for ourselves.

Felix’s birthday would be on next Friday, so we still got plenty of time to prepare everything, from buying the decorations to inviting all his friends. We bought plenty of food and alcohol and Chan agreed to be the DJ.

The big day was already here. I decided to wear a grey plaid skirt, a black blouse that exposed my shoulders and clavicles, long earring and finished the outfit with a pair of black heeled boots. As for the make-up, I decided to go with a light natural look and put my hair in a bun.

The party looked exactly how we imagined it to be. Everyone arrived before Felix, and went he came in we all shouted a loud “Happy Birthday, Felix!”

Everyone went to hug and say their congrats to Felix, only I stood frozen on the spot, because at the moment my eyes landed on Felix I swear I forgot about anything else. He always takes my breath away with his looks.

It’s been awhile since I started to think I might develop a one sided crush for my best friend. But now I’m starting to believe it’s something more than just a crush. I don’t know how this happened, but I think I felt in love with Felix. I’d wanna confess to him, but there are two things stopping me – I fear he probably doesn’t feel the same for me, but most importantly, I’m afraid I’ll lose him as a friend. I couldn’t live knowing I lost his friendship. He’s my sunshine, the person I spend most of my time with, he’s the one who truly understands me and knows everything about me. He’s the only one that’s able to make me comfortable enough to show my true self without fearing rejection because he likes me the way I am.. But the problem is that he likes me just as his best friend, nothing more. While here I am, in love with him. I tried to overcome it, push my feelings aside and hoping they’ll fade away, hoping it’s just a crush and nothing more, but being together with him all the time didn’t made this an easy task, it just made me fall even more for him.

Right now Felix was wearing a black leather jacket that he paired with black leather trousers, a white t-shirt. His hair was now a light purple and styled up, exposing his forehead. He looked alsolutely stunning.

He caught me starring at him and that made me blush instantly. He was trying to make eye contact with me, but I was trying to avoid his gaze.

He started coming my way.

“Hi.” He was looking at me with an intense look that made me feel like he could read my mind and and know exactly what I was thinking about.

“Hi. Happy birthday, Felix!” I tried to sound and look as much as possible unaffected by his presence, especially since he was closer than usual.

“What? No hug for me?” he said with a little pouting and I never wanted anything more than to squeeze his cheeks, which I didn’t, instead just giving him a warm hug. He was smelling like lavender, a perfume I gave him on his last birthday. The thought of him wearing this made me smile.

“Thanks for the party, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Let’s go and have fun, ok?”

“Sure.”

I dragged him to our group of friends and we all started to dance. After a few songs we decided to get some drinks. I suggest Felix that he should have fun and get wasted, offert that he turns down, saying he doesn’t wanna do something he might regret tomorrow.

After a few other songs, Bang Chan played some slow ones. He told me to go have a dance with Felix, saying this is a good chance to try and confess my feelings for him. I told him that I’m not ready and left to get another drink. Bang Chan is the only one that knows about my feelings for Felix, and he promised he won’t tell anyone, but he always tells me that it would be better to tell Felix the truth. He says Felix won’t end our friendship even if he wouldn’t feel the same way for me, so I shoudn’t worry about this; unfortunately I’m too much of a scaredy cat to take initiative.

I feel a tap on my shoulder so I turn away from the bar to face the person. Surprise, surprise, it’s none other than Felix.

“Y/N, do you wanna dance with me?”

“Y-yes.” He caught me off-guard with his question, I didn’t think he would want to dance with me during a slow song.

“Why did you ask me and not another girl you know? Maybe you can make a girlfriend.” I ask as we are making our way to the dance floor. Even if I don’t wanna see him together with someone else, I think having a girlfriend might make him happy, not to mention that I heard the guys telling him he should find a girlfriend, or at least a girl to have fun with, especially today.

He didn’t answer my question, so I assumed he might’ve not heard me because of the loud music.

When we got to the dance ring he put his hands on my waist and pushed me closer to him. I awkwardly put my hands on his shoulders and he started to speak.

“I don’t want to dance with another girls.” He said in his low deep voice, sending shivers down my spine.

“W-why?” I shutter the second time already. My heart started beating so fast that I think he might feel it too, considering how small the space between us is right now.

“I have something important to tell you. After the party I want to talk privately with you.”

“Okay.”

Perfect! Now my mind wild go crazy until the end of the party. What does he want to talk about? He said it’s important, so why wait until the party is over?

He’s biting his lips again and I want nothings else but to kiss him right now. I would need to lean only a bit to finally feel his soft lips on mine.

Why am I even thinking about this when we’re only friends! This is just a simple dance and what he wants to tell me later must be just a simple thanks for organising his party, it’s probably nothing more...I should stop thinking about both his lips and about what he wants to tell me.

I was once again lost in my troughs until I hear him chuckle.

“My eyes are a little bit higher, you know?”

I avert my gaze from him to look at the people behind him, I can’t look at his face anymore after he just caught me starring at his lips.... This is so embarrassing. And why is this song so damn long! Chan surely enjoys to see me struggle.

He just laughed at my reaction and after a few seconds the song finally came to an end. As soon as it ended I excused myself lying that I need to use the bathroom, so I won’t do something embarrassing in front of him again.

After that dance I didn’t have another encounter with Felix, and I was glad, because I don’t think my heart could bear more of him right now without going in cardiac arrest.

The party came to an end and I hoped that maybe Felix forgot that he wanted to talk, but of course that wasn’t the case. He was coming my way looking a little bit nervous and biting his lip.

“Can you come upstairs in the guest room to talk?”

“Sure.” I reply equally as nervous as him. I let him lead the way, and while we were passing through Chan I saw him sending me a wink then mouthing a “good luck”. But why?

After we enter the room, he’s standing right in front of me and locks his eyes with mine. He takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“Y/N. I wanted to tell you this for a long time already but never had the courage to do it...” he then licks his lips and I follow the action with my eyes.

Wait.. Is he about to say what I think? Is he maybe trying to confess? Are his feelings towards me the same? Maybe I shoudn’t jump to conclusions and get my hopes up just to be hurt even more in the end, I should let him talk and see what this is about.

“Y/N? Are you listening to me?” He looks a little amused now at my face. “Because you spaced out a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry. Please continue.” I manage to say a little flustered now.

“Actually, what I have to tell you is a confession.... Y/N I liked you for a long time and I thought maybe I could get over you, so I won’t risk losing you as a friend, but as time passed by I just fell more for you and I want you to know that I love you. I did for some time now, but I was too scared to tell you. I understand if you don’t feel the same and want to get some space after what I told you to clear your mind, but please don’t push me away as your friend, because our friendship is very important to me. You are important to me, and I don’t see my life without you being part of it, but I really needed to tell you how I truly feel even with this risk.” He’s looking at me waiting for a reaction but when I try to speak I can’t let any word leave my mouth due to my shook.

Did I heard him right? Did he really said that he loves me?

When I see him looking at me with so much affection and nervously waiting for me to say something in return, I decide that words are not enough. So I get on my tip toes, put my hands at the back of his neck and brig him into a kiss. Our first kiss. His lips are so soft and I already feel addicted to them. At first he didn’t responded to my sudden action, but after a moment I feelt his lips moving against mine gently. After bit he reaches to hold my jawline whit one hand and puts the other one on my waist to bring me as close as possible and deepens the kiss. I hope he can feel me pouring all my feelings for him in this kiss. I kiss him with passion and love and try to give my all. I feel fireworks exploding in me. I don’t want this to ever end.

After we break the kiss, he looks at me with so much love and adoration in his eyes. His beautiful smile is bigger than I ever saw it on him and I’m sure I smile the same at him because this is the happiest moment in my life.

“I love you too, Felix. I did it for a long time, but I never had the courage to admit my feelings either because I was also scared I’ll lose you.”

“Really? Wow we really are made for each other.” He laughs cutely at our similarities in thinking.

“I can’t believe we could have been together for a long time already, but we let overthinking stay in our way.”

“Well nothing can come between us from now on.”

He then places a quick peck on my lips and grinns at my blushing face.

“I’m glad that now I can say how I truly feel about you out loud, not just in my head.”

“And what would that be?”

“That you are the most beautiful girl, kindest person I know, you are really smart, that you’re driving me crazy when you act cute and the only thing I want to do hold you in my arms and never let you go, which now I can because you are mine, sweetheart.”

I’m a blushing mess in Felix’s arms now and I try to hide my face in his chest so he won’t see it, but of course he did so he put his hands on my face to make me look at him again. He brings me closer, then whispers: “Will you make me the honor to become you boyfriend?”

“Yes!” I can feel my cheeks already hurting from so much smiling, but I just can’t help myself.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Then he kisses me again.

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elizabeethan · 4 years

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Try Something New, Darling

Part 3/6 of my season 3 canon divergent series It’s About Bloody Time (AO3)

Read part 2 (AO3)

Read on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person. She was able to survive on the streets for years as a child and teenager. She was able to support herself after being released from jail at age 18. She sustained a prosperous job as a bail bondsperson. She had a nice apartment in Boston. She broke a damn curse and found her family. So yes, she considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person.

So why has she been acting so stupid?

Emma Swan considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person. She was able to survive on the streets for years as a child and teenager. She was able to support herself after being released from jail at age 18. She sustained a prosperous job as a bail bondsperson. She had a nice apartment in Boston. She broke a damn curse and found her family. So yes, she considers herself to be a fairly intelligent person.

So why has she been acting so stupid?

Early Friday morning after her birthday dinner, when she woke up feeling nauseous again and consequently ended up with her head in the toilet, she did consider going to the doctor. No bout of food poisoning should have lasted this long, and she never had a fever, so it probably wasn’t the flu. But when she opened up the cabinet under the sink to get the mouth wash and saw a box of tampons, it all came crashing down on her at once. The realization that she should have needed to use those very tampons over a week ago. The realization that she still doesn’t need to use them now.

Because guess what? When one takes a week-long trip to a magical realm and forgets to bring one’s birth control with them, one should then avoid having unprotected sex.

Absolutely stupid.

And so here she stands on this bright and sunny Monday morning, in the family planning aisle of the local drug store (please, as if this was planned), hoping to whatever god might be listening that Grumpy doesn’t see her and make one of his famous announcements to the whole town.

(She can picture it now. Terrible news! Terrible news! The Savior got knocked up by Captain Hook!)

Should she have done this sooner? Probably. But she chose instead to spend a week and a half after putting the pieces together hoping that she would miraculously get her period, and all this worrying would have been for naught. Now that her period is very late, she figures it’s probably time to take a test.

She finally opts for a two-pack so that she can remain in denial for a bit longer by taking the test again, then grabs a third just to be safe. False positives are a thing, right? Once she’s been rung out, as awkwardly as possible, she exits the store and shoves the box into the large bag she brought with her before she makes her way to Granny’s. If she’s going to pee on a stick three times in a row, she’ll need some fluids. And if she’s about to find out that she’s been knocked up, she’s going to need some comfort in the form of hot chocolate.

“Hey Emma!” Ruby calls from the kitchen when she arrives, hurrying out to meet her.

“Hi Rubes,” she responds, trying her hardest to plaster on a smile. She’s been chewing on her bottom lip so much lately that she thinks it cracks.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Please.”

“Want me to bring it over to Lover-Boy’s table?” she asks with a smirk, and Emma freezes before turning around in the direction Ruby was facing and sees Hook, dressed still in his modern wardrobe and sitting alone at a table nursing a coffee.

Shit. Not ready. Back up. Abort mission.

Of course, Ruby must have spoken too loudly, because Hook glances up and catches her gaze before shooting her an earth shattering, ovary exploding grin.

The very grin that she’s been evading for over a week now.

Rather than answering Ruby, Emma takes a deep breath and swallows the lump in her throat, then heads over to his table and takes a seat across from him.

“Hi,” she greets shakily.

“Morning love,” he responds, his smile faltering the slightest bit at the tone of her voice, but still successfully killing her from the inside out. “Finally feeling better today?”

Fuck, she thinks. Leave it to him to inadvertently guilt her for avoiding him. Not by accusing her of doing so, but by evidently understanding why she’s been so absent. Now is certainly an opening for her to tell him what’s going on, or what she suspects is going on. (Who is she kidding, though? There’s almost no doubt in her mind that she is currently carrying his child.) “Not that much,” she finally says.

His face falls, brows drawing close together and mouth sporting a perfectly kissable pout. “No? Have you been to the doctor?”

“Not yet.”

“Emma,” he starts seriously as he glances back down at his mug, but whatever he says doesn’t reach her ears. When she looks up, she sees Neal making his way into the diner from the inn and she freezes.

She’s still reeling from last week, and she’s been avoiding him too. The more she looks back on it, the worse she feels. How could she let him do that? She knows that she should’ve been strong enough to shove him away before it became what it did.

It shouldn’t have gotten so out of hand. Does she tell Killian that Neal technically kissed her? It’s not as if it could hardly even be considered a kiss, and it’s not like she kissed him back, but still. Doesn’t he have the right to know?

“Like now, for example,” she finally hears him say.

“Huh?”

“Precisely my point, love, I was just saying that you seem distracted. Emma, something is clearly bothering you. And whatever it is—”

“I’m fine.”

“—whatever it is,” he says more pointedly, “please just know that I’m… I’m here.”

She draws her brows together and finally meets his eyes with hers when Ruby sets her mug of hot chocolate down in front of her with a wink.

“Whatever it is, I’ll support you in any way that I can, however you’ll let me. You can tell me anything.”

Shit.

One glance into his deep blue eyes and she knows that he’s telling the truth.

“Killian…” she starts, sighing, reaching down for her mug and pulling it up to her nose.

While she may have had every intention of talking things through with him, or maybe asking if they can talk in private later, she takes one whiff of her favorite drink and knows that that isn’t going to happen.

Her eyes widen and her face must pale immediately. She feels her whole body start to shake and sweat as bile rises to her throat. She puts the mug down too urgently, sending the hot beverage sloshing over the sides, and stands with such force that the table is shoved towards him before she’s up and running to the lady’s room.

She bursts through the door and doesn’t even have the sense to lock it— in fact she’s lucky that it was unoccupied— before she’s over the toilet and heaving into it, despite her stomach being empty. She knows she should be trying to eat something in the morning, but she can’t stomach anything, and it doesn’t seem to make any sense anyway when she’s heaving up anything and everything less than an hour later.

Once she finally finishes evicting everything she’s ever eaten, she sits back against the wall and closes her eyes, taking in a few breaths before she opens them and reaches for some toilet paper to wipe her mouth and nose. It’s only once she starts blowing her nose that she notices Killian standing to her left behind the closed door.

“Fuck!” she jumps, accidentally blowing her nose with so much force that she can feel it in her eyes.

“Emma, what the bloody hell is going on?”

She slowly and unsteadily stands up and tosses the soiled tissue into the toilet before she quickly moves to flush it in hopes that he didn’t see its contents, then says, “I told you I’m fine.”

“But you’re clearly not fine, love. You’ve been avoiding me. And you couldn’t even smell your hot chocolate without being violently sick.”

“Please don’t say the word chocolate right now.”

“And it looks like the hot chocolate might’ve burned your hand.”

“Killian.”

“Emma.”

“I’ll go to the doctor,” she concedes as her stomach jumps. “I will. I just… I have to do something first.”

She’s never seen him look so worried and defeated. “What can I do?”

“Nothing, you’ve done enough,” she says snidely and then regrets it, knowing that it’s unfair of her to blame him. Afterall, she did tell him that she was taking a magical pill that would make it near impossible for him to impregnate her.

Turns out it only works like magic if she uses it. Curse her evidently insanely fertile self.

He sighs, “let me at least get you some water, love?”

She sighs, too, and a sea of familiar guilt washes over her. Finally, she quietly responds, “that would be nice, thank you.”

She knows that she needs to go to work soon anyway, so when he comes back, she chugs the water and hopes that it’ll go through her by the time she gets to the station.

~~~~

Emma Swan is pregnant. By accident. Again.

At least she’s on the other side of the cell this time around.

She took all three tests, and all three read positive; two produced that second pink line and one clearly read the word pregnant before the two-minute timers she set on her phone even went off. She doesn’t want to leave them in the trash can at the station for fear that someone may somehow find them, so they're sitting in her desk drawer. With her head laying on her crossed arms, she stares so hard that she practically burns a hole through the top of her desk above the drawer that contains them. So far today, she’s gotten exactly no work done.

“Make any headway on that paperwork?” her father asks ironically as he enters the office. She had asked if he could take on patrol so that she could get caught up.

“Kind of,” she answers quietly, fearful that her voice could give out at any second.

“Hey,” he starts, taking a seat at his desk across the room from her. “I wanted to talk to you about… about last Thursday.”

“What about last Thursday?” she asks, sitting up slightly and finally peeling her eyes away from the drawer of secrets.

“I wanted to… apologize. For the way I acted at your dinner. About… about Hook.”

She raises a brow in surprise, pursing her lips and nodding her head lightly. She supposes that this day actually canengender more surprises. “Wow,” she says simply.

“I know I may not be his biggest fan, but Snow and I talked, and we realized that it must be pretty helpful for you to have someone you consider to be a friend right now.”

She nods softly, considering this. “Yeah, it is.”

“I guess you can’t be sharing everything with Neal, huh?” he asks in jest. She draws her brows in now, confusion likely written all over her face. “Just a joke,” he chuckles. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell our significant others everything.”

Woah. She physically backs herself away from him. “Neal? Neal isn’t my boyfriend,” she’s cut off by the ringing phone, which David almost immediately answers, humming and nodding at the person on the other end.

“Another moose in the road,” he eventually says. “You wanna take this one?”

She huffs violently at her inability to fully correct her father but nods, needing to get out of the office and into the fresh air. She can also take the opportunity to go home and get some crackers. She gets up quickly and grabs her huge bag, opening the accursed drawer and using her own body to shield the image of her shoving in the positive tests from her father’s view.

~~~~

The moose found his way home without her help, so she heads back to the loft sooner than expected and finds Mary Margaret occupying it.

“Hi honey,” she says with a sweet smile from the kitchen.

Emma drops her uncharacteristically massive bag on a table by the door before calling back, “hi.”

“Want something to eat?” Emma nods and makes to turn around before her foot kicks into the leg of the table and sends her bag, along with its contents, flying to the floor.

All of its contents. Wallet, phone, keys, and three positive pregnancy tests.

“Whoops! Let me help you get—”

“No!”

She hears Mary Margaret gasp loudly before she shuts her eyes and shoves her hands over her face. She’s suddenly feeling nauseous due to anxiety rather than pregnancy, and she almost laughs at the irony.

“Emma, are you—” she doesn’t finish her thought. She doesn’t need to, because when Emma peeks out from behind her fingers, she sees Mary Margaret holding a test in her hand. The one that spells out the word pregnant, clear as day. “Oh, honey.”

Normally, if she wasn’t full of raging hormones, she would have handled the situation with grace and perhaps a bit of sarcasm. But alas, these are not normal times and she is, in fact, full of raging hormones. So, what does she do? Why, the only thing she seems capable of lately, aside from vomiting a peeing frequently. She starts to cry.

Of course.

She doesn’t move her hands away from her face because she immediately begins to feel the clenching around her heart, her throat practically closing and her eyes burning. Tears begin to fall immediately and she chokes out a sob.

Her mother’s disappointment was clear in her voice, and Emma can’t even think about what she’s doing before she sinks down to the floor, pathetically holding her middle.

“Emma!” she exclaims with a soft chuckle, suddenly in front of her and holding onto her elbows. “Emma, up off the floor! It’s alright, you don’t have to cry!” Emma can’t bear to hear what she has to say, because she knows that she’s being judged for getting pregnant by a man her parents hate.

“I—” she starts, but can’t finish, another sob wracking her body.

“Emma, it’s okay, this is a blessing! You two are going to make fabulous parents together. And Henry will be a big brother!”

“You think—” she chokes, “you think so?” She can’t imagine this to be true. Since when did Mary Margaret start to approve of Killian? Emma supposes she hasn’t been as discreet as she had hoped with all of her sneaking out, because apparently Mary Margaret knew all along.

“Oh sweetheart, I know so!” Emma nods, sniffling and wiping tears off of her cheeks. “Was it… planned?”

“Hell no,” Emma scoffs with a roll to her eyes. “None of this was. It all just sort of… happened.”

“When did it… start happening?”

“On the way back from Neverland,” Emma says softly, pathetically. Mary Margaret nods, a sneaky smile crossing her face.

“Well I just know that you two—” before she has a chance to finish, there’s a crash and a scream outside and she’s cut off.

“Ugh,” Emma exclaims, blowing her nose with a tissue that Mary Margaret had reached for. “I should check on that.”

“Just,” Mary Margaret starts, a worried look playing at her features. “I know you're the sheriff but please be careful. I’m assuming you haven’t been to the doctor yet?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you're right. I’ll be careful.”

“And take some crackers, they’ll help settle your stomach.”

~~~~

She freezes when she steps outside. And then she laughs at her own little joke, because she’s standing on a narrow sheet of ice that leads in a trail down the street— in the first week of November. And while Maine is pretty cold, she doesn’t think it’s that cold.

She follows the trail down Main Street, sleeve of Saltines in hand, and thinks that it’s leading to the edge of town when she feels the earth tremble. When she looks out by the harbor, she notices a thick white wall rising erratically from the sea. So much for no emergencies in Storybrooke.

“Swan!” she hears, and she turns to see Hook running out of Granny’s towards. “Swan, you alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, turning to the harbor again. “Not sure what’s going on, but I’m assuming something’s happening around the town line.”

“Are you heading out there now?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me go with you?” he asks desperately.

“Killian…”

“Please Swan,” he starts, his eyes doing that thing again where he looks sadder than anyone she’s ever seen. “I just saw your father heading towards the Queen’s office. You need backup, let me help you.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s also fighting off a smile. “You aren’t even on the force.”

“Make me an honorary deputy, then,” he says with a flirty smile.

“Stop watching westerns. How do you even have access to TV?” He shrugs and she rolls her eyes. “Fine, let’s go,” she responds in haste, turning back towards her Bug.

They spent the ride relatively quiet, and she’s glad that he doesn’t ask her again how she’s been feeling, but she knows she probably should’ve taken the opportunity to tell him what’s been going on. Then again, maybe driving into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation isn’t the best time to tell someone that they're about to be a father.

By the time they reach the town line, she can see the white wall standing tall and preventing anyone from leaving.

“What the hell?” she wonders out loud as she steps out of the car.

“My thoughts exactly, love.”

They walk around for a few minutes, taking in the scene and pretending they know what they're doing. The wall is at least 30 feet high and, while she has no idea how thick it could be, she knows it would likely be foolish to try and get through it.

Kicking a fallen piece of ice, she sighs. “I don’t know.” She tucks her hands into the pockets of her brown leather jacket and pulls it closed over her belly. It’s freezing over here by the wall of ice.

“Aye, love. Very mysterious.” Before she knows it, he’s next to her and looking up, squinting so she can just see a sliver of blue. “Guess I should’ve brought some champagne.”

She chokes on her own breath before looking up at him. “What?”

He smirks. “We have the world’s largest ice bucket here. And I was planning on asking you something.”

She freezes, turning to him and facing him head on. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you,” he starts, stepping closer to her and reaching his hand up to her face and brushing a piece of hair away. “If you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner.”

Wouldn’t it be ironic if she began vomiting right now?

She doesn’t. Although she does feel her heartbeat quicken and her body suddenly feels hot, especially in her stomach.

“Killian,” she says hesitantly.

“I know, I know.” He reaches down towards her collarbone and gently touches the chain around her neck, pulling the dangling diamonds out from beneath her shirt and smiling. “But I don’t think much needs to change between us, darling.” Boy, does he have another thing coming, she thinks. “And I know things are complicated with your family, but you did say that you would consider it, so maybe I just hoped to remind you to. I know what I want, love; I want you. I just hope I’ve made that clear and that you might feel the same way for me.”

And really, it’s not like she could’ve had any other response. He’s made a perfectly worded, perfectly timed speech, so of course her pregnant self starts crying.

“Oh, no love, please don’t cry. It’s alright,” he starts, wiping a tear away as his face falls. “If you—if you don’t want that with me, it's alright.” She thinks she hears his voice catching in the back of his throat and starts crying a bit harder, a sob escaping her lips. “If that’s why you’ve been distant…”

“No, Killian, it’s not that, I just… I do. I want that.”

“Aye?”

“Yeah,” she responds, and she sees his eyes lighting up. “It’s just that… well, there are things that… something happened, Killian, and I don’t know if you’ll feel the same way when you find out that—”

“Emma!”

No.

“Emma? Emma! What the hell?” Neal is shouting as he parks Mary Margaret’s station wagon and gets out. Wait, Mary Margaret’s station wagon?

“Neal?”

“Everyone, remain still!”

Everyone turns to the source of the new voice and jumps. Out of nowhere, a beautiful tall woman with a long blonde braid and an icy blue dress emerges from the ice wall.

Her presence certainly wasn’t very commanding, but she appears to be the one who put up the massive wall of ice around the entire town, based on the trail following her, so Emma figures it’s probably a good idea to listen to her.

“Hello,” Emma says cautiously with a sniffle, backing away slightly and closer to Killian.

“Emma, we need to talk.”

“Neal, does this look like a good time to you?” she snaps.

“Your mom told me.”

She falters, freezing in place again, and it really can’t be good for her body (or for the baby?) for her heart to be stopping and starting like this.

“What?”

“Everyone needs to halt immediately!”

“Emma, love,” Killian starts, and she turns to him with desperation in her eyes.

“She told me congratulations on the baby. Emma, what the hell is she talking about? If we did anything on your birthday, I was really drunk. You need to tell me if anything happened—”

“Baby?!”

“Neal!”

“Stop!”

Before she knows it, the ground is shaking again, and while she initially started to take a step towards Neal, possibly to beat him up, she’s now spun around. She’s heading towards the unpredictably enigmatic woman with her hands up as the terrain continues to shake. “It’s alright.”

“Stay back! Everyone be quiet! I need to find my sister!”

“Okay,” Emma says, taking another step. “We’ll help you.”

“Emma, come back, love!”

“It’s okay,” she starts to say again, but the earth is shaking harder and suddenly she’s being knocked to the ground as another wall is upraised around her.

~~~~

Emma doesn’t quite fall unconscious, but she thinks she might have come close. Her ears are ringing and her head is pounding, but she’s finally starting to see things clearly around her. She’s definitely inside some kind of ice cave, and as if that wasn’t apparent enough already, she starts to shiver. A leather jacket with some leggings is certainly not an ideal outfit for this kind of sudden and unexpected weather change.

She pulls the jacket tightly around her belly again, hoping that she can maybe protect the baby from the cold. Looking around, she sees the woman standing a few feet from her, looking somewhere between angry and scared. “Hello,” Emma starts. “What’s your name?”

The woman startles at the sound of her voice and makes eye contact, and Emma is certain that she can see fear in them. “Elsa,” she answers firmly.

“Elsa, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Emma.” The woman nods brusquely before spinning around nervously. “I just found out today that I’m pregnant.” It dawns on her that the first time she utters the words out loud is to a stranger who could very easily kill her.

Elsa turns back towards Emma, the anger and resolve in her face evaporating completely. “You did?”

“Yes. But the father doesn’t know. Or, I guess he kind of just found out. But I’d really like the opportunity to tell him myself.”

She nods again, her hands ringing together. She’s clearly scared and nervous, and whatever she built the ice wall for was just an act to show them that she’s powerful. “The man in the dark clothes?”

Emma smiles at her and nods, though she’s starting to shiver harder. “That’s the one.”

“Well then what was the other man doing? He seemed angry.”

Emma sighs and rolls her eyes but lets out a chuckle. “He is. He and I were together 12 years ago, and he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s over.”

Elsa rolls her eyes as well. “Most men don’t seem to understand much.” Emma lets out a snort and nods in agreement as her teeth begin to chatter. “My sister was supposed to be getting married. Her betrothed and your husband seem very similar in their nobility.”

“Oh,” Emma says in surprise. “Hook isn’t my husband.”

“Oh, sorry. Well, either way, he clearly loves you.”

Rather than answer her, Emma shoves the thought as deep as she can and chuckles nervously, changing the subject completely. “You said you were looking for your sister?”

“Yes.” The tenacity is back.

“Well, I’m the sheriff here. That means I have resources that can help you. I just need to get out of here first. It seems like you may have trapped us in here by accident, but do you think you can let us out?”

She stills and appears to think Emma’s offer over. “You can really help me find Anna?”

“I’ll do whatever I can.” She certainly can’t guarantee anything, but she’s starting to like this Elsa, in a weird, possibly Stockholm Syndrome type of way.

“Alright, stand back.”

When Emma focuses back on the wall, she can hear shouting. She can only imagine what a mess Neal must have made by now.

Elsa seems to focus too, and there’s suddenly a loud buzzing hum and a forceful light coming from her hands as she points them towards the wall. A hole big enough for Emma to crawl through forms quickly, and she can hear the shouting grow louder.

“Emma!” she hears Killian call, and she walks towards the hole and crouches down before starting to crawl to the other side. He’s crouching too, and once she reaches the outside, she takes his hand and falls into his hold. He breathes out a sigh of relief, as does she, and helps her into a standing position and holds her body tightly to his. She feels warmer already.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks into her neck, and she closes her eyes and reaches her hand up to his hair and nods. “I was so worried.”

“I’m alright,” she says back quietly, taking time to steady her breathing and warm up against his body heat.

He notes that she’s still shivering— she’s surprised that her teeth haven’t cracked from the force of their chattering— so he steps away from her slightly and he removes his own jacket and places it around her shoulders, rubbing up and down her left arm. His eyes meet hers intently and she smiles.

“It would seem—”

“Emma, you okay?”

She groans. Looking past Killian, Emma sees Neal looking both furious and worried at the same time. Killian’s hand slides from her arm, but she catches it in hers before he can remove it from her.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna go to the doctor.”

“Let me take you,” Neal says in a commanding tone.

“No, Killian’s taking me.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“But Emma, you and I need to talk.”

“You're right, Neal, we do. I’ll start. I really don’t appreciate you coming over here and screaming about things that have nothing to do with you. Nothing happened on my birthday, unless you count the fact that you basically assaulted me. And even if anything did happen, that was a week ago. Do you even know how reproduction works?” His face is priceless, and she feels a sense of relief wash over her as she finally stands up for herself. “I can’t believe that you came out here and announced my pregnancy before I had a chance to,” she mutters. She feels Killian’s hand tighten around hers for a second before he lets it fall, and when she turns to him, his face is blank. “Killian, I’d like it if you and I could talk in private,” she says to him more softly. “Neal, don’t talk to my mom about this.”

~~~~

The car is completely silent for a few minutes once Emma starts driving. She fights the urge to glance over at Killian several times before she finally gives in, and she immediately wishes she hadn’t. In the second she’s able to look at him, she’s met with his anger and frustration that she knows must be rooted in the regret he feels. She knows this must be difficult for him to process, and now she’s dragging him along with her to see a doctor. She doesn’t even know if he’ll want to be in this baby’s life, so she’s realizing that it’s selfish of her to force him along.

The truth is, she never really thought of her other options. She knows that, realistically, she doesn’t have to have this baby. But the thought to abort or abandon it never crossed her mind. She can’t do to this baby what she did to Henry.

Killian doesn’t have to worry about that, thought.

“Killian—” she starts, but it’s as if the sound of her voice elicits something in him.

“What did he do to you?” he asks. His voice is so low and dark that it makes her feel nervous.

“What?” She looks over again and sees that he’s staring straight ahead at the changing leaves.

“On your birthday. You said he assaulted you.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, her feelings of compunction growing stronger in the pit of her stomach. “It’s not really a big deal, I was being dramatic. He was drunk. He grabbed me and then he knocked us over onto his bed and tried to kiss me. But it was only a second, Killian. I didn’t do anything with him, I swear.” He’s quiet for a second, and it’s the longest second of her life.

“Fuck, Emma, what the hell?” He’s looking at her now, and in the brief second that she glances at him, she sees fire in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. But nothing happened, I promise. He just tried to kiss me for a second and I pushed him away.” Her palms are sweating on the steering wheel and her heart is hammering in her chest, her stomach twisted and her head pounding.

“I’m not mad at you, love. He attacked you! How are you so equable over this?”

“It’s like I said, nothing happened. I pushed him, probably bruised a kidney, and I got the hell out of there. I didn’t do anything with him.”

“I don’t care about that, Emma. I’m not mad because I think you did something with him. I can’t believe that you were put in a position where you had to defend yourself like that! And against him!”

“What do you mean?” she asks hesitantly as she pulls into the lot of the hospital and parks her car.

“I mean… I mean he’s the father of your child and he’s behaving in such a predatory way towards you that you felt that you needed to bruise his kidney and flee.” She’s silent. She knows now that he’s angrier with Neal than he is with her, but he sounds so livid that it sort of feels like she’s being scolded.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says quietly, because she honestly doesn’t know what else to say to placate him.

“Please don’t say that, love,” he asks, more like begs, as he finally turns away from the scene ahead of him and looks at her. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you need to apologize. You don’t, darling, truly.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “But do you know… fuck. Do you know how many thoughts ran through my head in the ten minutes that you were in that cave?” She knows that he’s asking hypothetically, but she shakes her head anyway. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”

“That can’t be true,” she scoffs. He’s been alive for centuries; she knows he must have felt scared before.

“Of course it is, Emma.” He turns away, his face hardened and his brows drawn together. “Within a span of thirty seconds I find out that you're pregnant and that it might be Neal’s, then you disappear into an ice cave and I have no way to get to you.”

“It’s not,” she starts immediately, stunned by his statement. “It’s not Neal’s.”

He turns again, and she realizes now that she hasn’t actually said the words to him. She hasn’t really had much of a chance to say them out loud at all.

“Emma,” he says, his tone begging again, and it causes her heart to clench so hard that her fingers start to tingle.

“I’m pregnant.” His face nearly crumbles, his brows drawing close together while somehow still looking more worried than she’s ever seen him. “You’re the only person I’ve been with—I mean, you're the only person I want to be with. The baby… it’s… you're the father, Killian.”

He doesn’t say anything, and she thinks she may have done the impossible and stunned Killian Jones into silence. He reaches across himself and picks up her left hand in his right and draws it up to his mouth, pressing his lips to it firmly and keeping them there. She can feel his breath coming out quickly and forcefully, as if he has to remind himself to breathe, and it feels like he’s seconds away from breaking down.

“I realize that this is a lot to take in, and we’ve never had a conversation about whether you're even staying in Storybrooke.” She has to push the words out of her mouth, knowing that they need to be said. “But, if you don’t want to be in his life, then I’m giving you an out.”

“What?” he chokes out. She didn’t think she could watch his face fall any further.

“If you want out, just say the words. I know this wasn’t the plan for us.” He scoffs and her heart drops to her stomach, but she holds herself together in preparation for his words.

“If you think I’m going anywhere without you and this baby, then you are absolutely mad.”

“Really?” she asks tentatively, looking up from their hands to meet his eyes.

“Aye,” he breathes out. “I’m sorry, love, if I’ve ever given you the impression that I would abandon you like that. I was planning on staying here as long as you would have me anyway, before all of this.”

“You were?”

He smiles at her, the kind of smile that she sees in her dreams, and nods. “Did you say his?”

She smiles a bit, too, and nods back. “I don’t know the sex yet, it’s too early. But I’ve always seen myself as a boy mom.” He breathes out a laugh now.

“Mom,” he repeats, squeezing her hand and kissing it softly.

“Dad,” she teases back, and she smiles because now she’s affording herself the privilege of imagining him with a little bundle in his arms.

“You were in that frozen cave for a bit. We should get you checked, aye, love?”

“Aye,” she responds, and he chuckles and kisses her hand again.

~~~~

When they're finally called in, after mountains of paperwork and questions and what feels like hours of waiting, Emma lies down on the exam table while Killian sits stiffly on the chair near her head.

“Bet this isn’t where you thought you’d end up when you woke up this morning,” she jokes, and he lets out a huff in response.

“Certainly not, Swan. You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” she hums, patting her belly lightly. He glances down at her hand covering her belly and she wonders if this is all becoming too real for him, because it certainly is for her. She tries to force away the lingering thoughts that he could still leave them, knowing that the thoughts are born from her own experiences and are not based on his actions so far.

The technician comes in a few moments later and gets Emma ready for her ultrasound. She explains that it’s probably a bit early for an abdominal sonogram, and Killian’s eyes bug out of his head when she prepares for the transvaginal scan. Emma lets out a snort and takes his hand in hers without asking. He squeezes back.

After a few moments of searching and measuring, the technician finally settles in one spot and gestures towards the screen at the black and white mess. She presses a few buttons and takes a few more measurements, then says, “there’s your baby!”

Killian turns immediately, staring over to the screen with a pensive look on his face. The technician points out the head, making mention of the crown rump length and how it indicates that she’s measuring at just under 7 weeks.

All Emma can see is a gray blob within another black blob, that lives inside another gray blob. She’s never felt such an emotional connection to a blob, and she notes how differently she feels this time around.

When she hears the heartbeat, a quick and hardy whoosh taking over the quiet room, she nearly loses it.

Her eyes are stinging when she looks at their baby on the screen and hears the powerful heartbeat, but she starts crying when she glances over at Killian and sees that he has tears running down his own cheeks.

“Your baby is about the size of a blueberry,” the technician says, holding up two fingers to demonstrate just how tiny the blob is. Emma nods, wiping a tear away, then looks back to Killian and squeezes his hand again.

He lets out a tear-sodden laugh and squeezes back, then reaches their hands up so he can wipe tears away. “I can’t believe how much that little bugger has aged me already.”

Emma laughs now too, using her free hand to wipe her own cheeks, and the technician smiles up at them. She prints a few pictures off and tells them that everything looks good, and that the doctor will be in to talk to them shortly.

When Emma’s new obstetrician, Dr. Morgan, enters the room, she greets them happily and congratulates them on their good news. She explains that the baby appears healthy despite Emma’s earlier misadventures and her taking birth control before she found out, and gives them a due date— June 16th, a summer baby.

They’re walking hand in hand out to the car, and they’re both wearing the biggest, goofiest smiles that they can muster. By the time they get back to the car, though, she starts to feel like she’s returning to real life.

“I know that this is a lot,” she starts as he takes her hand again, “and the baby was certainly a surprise, but he’s not a mistake. I haven’t known for very long and I was feeling really dreadful, but now that I’ve seen him… I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

“Aye,” he breathes again. “I understand what you mean. As soon as Baelfire said baby, I felt like my life changed all at once. I didn’t even know if it was mine or his, but I didn’t care. And now that I know, I realize that I’ve never felt… I just… I love him. Or her. It seems completely mad, but I love him.”

She nearly cries again at the sound of his voice choking and at his own words, but she nods instead, understanding completely how instantly he must have fallen in love with the tiny embryo she’s growing because that’s exactly what happened to her. “It isn’t mad.”

He moves her hand up to his forehead and leans against it for a moment, as if taking space to process things for himself, before he lifts his head and meets her eyes with his.

“Killian,” she says once she has her hand back and is able to start the engine.

“Aye, darling?”

“My mom…” Killian stares up at her expectantly, and he clearly has no idea what she’s talking about as she’s changed the subject. “She thinks it’s Neal’s. I think she might know that I’ve been sneaking out at night, but she must think I’ve been going to see him.”

“I see,” he starts, nodding his head pensively and pinching his bottom lip between two fingers in a way that drives her mad. “What shall we do?”

She hums, considering this. “I think I’m gonna go talk to her. And I think you might need to do some planning.”

“Planning for what love? Surely, we have enough time before the blueberry arrives,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Not for that,” she responds with a grin. “For dinner. That is, if you still want to go to dinner?”

His face splits into another grin so bright and vivid that she feels her stomach clench, his eyes squinting and his pearly teeth shining in the sunlight. “The day I answer no to that question is the day I’ve lost my mind.”

She hums out a small laugh and says, “good. And don’t change. I forgot to tell you how much I like your new look.”

~~~~

Arriving at home after dropping Killian off at the docks feels strange. She sits in her car for a few minutes in an attempt to ready herself for confrontation until she has to pee so badly that she needs to go upstairs.

“Emma, hi,” Mary Margaret starts once she emerges from the bathroom.

“Hi,” she says back.

“Neal… well he stopped by and told me that you went to the doctor.” Apparently, she doesn’t need to dance around this.

“Did he?” Mary Margaret nods, and Emma can tell by the look on her face that she has more to say but she’s holding back. “Did he say anything else?”

“He told me I should talk to you. He seemed… angry. Emma, if you told him and he reacted badly—”

“Neal isn’t the father.”

It would appear, based on her facial expression, that Mary Margaret was expecting to hear absolutely anything else come out of Emma’s mouth. She actually stands before Emma with her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugging out as if this was the most phenomenal news she’s ever heard in her life.

Which can’t conceivably be true. She’s literally Snow White. She was cursed by the Evil Queen and didn’t age for 28 years. She sent her minutes-old infant through a portal using a magic tree. This cannot possibly be that surprising.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She’s still standing there like a trout with her mouth hanging open before she must realize what she’s doing and snaps it shut. Emma follows her with her eyes as she moves towards the kitchen and pulls out another sleeve of Saltines, apparently the only thing she can eat this week, before sitting at the counter, waiting for her mother to break herself out of her shock.

“I thought… Emma, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything to Neal. I thought he was…”

“I should’ve been clearer. Although I thought that I have been clear for the last few weeks that I'm not interested in him and that we aren’t together.”

“No, Emma, I overstepped. I shouldn’t have gone to him about it at all. When he came here and I said congratulations to him, I knew right away that it was a mistake because I could tell that you hadn’t told him. Now… well, now I know why.”

“He came here?”

“He came looking for you. I assumed it was about the crash we heard.”

Emma nods in understanding. Mary Margaret has pulled herself together a bit and takes a seat in the stool next to Emma. “So, when he started freaking out, you let him borrow your car to come see me.”

“Right.” She nods again. “I’m so sorry, honey. I never should have said anything. I was just so excited for you, and when I thought that Henry was going to have a little brother or sister—”

“Henry is going to have a little brother or sister. Just because they don’t have the same dad doesn’t make that any less true.”

“You're right,” her mother sighs. “Of course, you're right. I’m sorry, this is all just a lot of information for one day.”

“For me, too,” Emma agrees. Then she reaches into her pocket and smiles when she feels the glossy paper, pulling out the sonogram pictures. “Wanna see him?”

“Him?” she questions, taking the photo and grinning. She reaches one hand up and places a gentle finger over her blueberry sized blob.

“I don’t know yet, that’s just what we’ve been saying,” Emma says with a grin, looking down at the new picture her mother flips to.

“Wait,” Mary Margaret says, resting the photos on the counter and looking up to meet Emma’s eyes with her matching ones. “If Neal isn’t the father, who is?”

It’s Emma’s turn to drop her jaw in shock, surprised that her mother isn’t able to put the pieces together. “Seriously? It’s Killian.”

“Ki—Hook?!”

“Yeah, Hook. And if you say anything negative about the father of my child—”

“No, no, that’s… I mean… it certainly is a shock… but…”

Emma rolls her eyes now, shoving another cracker into her mouth before getting up for some water. “Is it though? I know we haven’t been that secretive. I’ve been out, like, three nights a week.”

“I know,” she says, confirming Emma’s suspicions that she’s known all along. “I just thought you were going to Granny’s. I didn’t realize you were going to the pier instead. But are you… are you sure about him?”

Emma sits again as she considers her answer to this question carefully. A big part of her is telling her that it hasn’t been long enough to know. However, while she wouldn’t admit it out loud, and while she’s anxious to even admit it to herself, a much smaller part of her knows that yes, she is sure about him. Seeing his reaction to seeing their baby for the first time, to hearing the strong heartbeat, solidified that knowledge into her brain. So she looks over to her mother and smiles, nodding confidently.

Their conversation comes to a halt when David arrives at home, towing Elsa behind him. Emma’s somewhat surprised to see her, but assumes that she and David got to talking and he decided to take her in.

He greets his wife and daughter with kisses to their heads, then turns to Emma with a look that she’s grown all too familiar with: concern.

“Neal dropped Elsa off at the station and she told me all about her sister. She also told me that you two went to the doctor because you got trapped in an… ice cave? Are you alright?”

“Oh, no David, Neal wasn’t the one she went to the doctor with. It was her—”

“Dad,” Emma jumps in immediately, fearful that Elsa may say something that Emma would regret. “I’m fine. I went to the doctor and everything is fine.”

“Did you figure out why you’ve been so sick lately? Weird that none of us has caught it yet, isn’t it?”

“Not as weird as you may think,” Mary Margaret says to him with a smirk shot Emma’s way. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Emma takes the sonogram pictures back from her mother and walks over to the couch, sitting down next to David as Elsa introduces herself to Mary Margaret and heads into the kitchen area with her. When Emma produces the photos and hands them to her father, she can see the shock in his eyes as they immediately glass over and a tear runs down his cheek.

“Really?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion. Emma nods at him, a smile gracing her features as a fresh set of tears make their way into her eyes as well. He lets out a deep breath, running a finger along the blob in the photo the same way her mother did.

“I’m seven weeks along.” He lets out another breath, this one coalescing itself with a chuckle.

He finally looks up and meets her eyes before he says, “Congratulations, Emma.”

“Thank you,” she says back, wiping her cheeks.

“You and Hook must be very happy.” Her face drops in shock, her brows coming together and her mouth snapping shut before she cocks her head to one side. “I started to put the pieces together a bit ago, but this morning when I saw your face light up when I mentioned him, and then when you practically jumped down my throat for calling Neal your significant other, I figured it out. Wasn’t expecting that you two would be… well, expecting, though.”

It’s Emma’s turn to let out a hearty chuckle followed immediately by a sniffle. “How come you figured it out and mom couldn’t?”

“I guess sometimes your dad just knows best,” he responds, grinning at her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug which she returns fervently.

~~~~

The week that passes sees Emma more nauseous and exhausted than she’s ever been. She remembers being pregnant with Henry quite well, and she never experienced symptoms this strongly, but she supposes that’s because her body was 12 years younger.

Her date with Killian went beautifully. He took her to a nice Italian restaurant, stating that he wasn’t sure what she could stomach, but he knew she could handle the bread. She was just happy that it was something other than Granny’s.

After dinner, Emma asked him to take her back to the Jolly Roger, citing that she can’t get the image of his ass in his tight black jeans out of her head and it’s driving her mad with lust. He chokes on his last sip of water and flags the server down immediately.

On their walk back to the pier, with her bundled in her winter parka and Killian comfortably sporting his modern leather jacket, she could feel the nerves that were radiating off of him and wondered how her pregnancy might change their sex life. They were very active before she found out, after all. She realizes, though, that it’s already made adjustments here and there in that she spent a week avoiding him, during which she was far too nauseous to even consider any vigorous physical activity.

On this night, she felt confident enough in her ability to keep down her bland dinner of penne with butter and dinner rolls, but when they finally arrived on his ship and he nervously helped her down the stairs and onto his bunk, she was asleep before he even had a chance to light a few candles.

She hasn’t heard from Neal, but Henry has been to Granny’s for dinner with him. He’s asked her to come along, and it nearly crushes her to tell her son that she isn’t coming each time, but she can’t stomach the thought of being in the same room as his father. She’s hoping that someday soon she can get past her resentment towards him, but for now, she needs to take space away from him so that she can move on.

She still hasn’t told her parents about what happened all those years ago. She knows that both of them, particularly her mother, are struggling to see the logic behind her choosing Hook over Neal, but she hasn’t found the time or desire to fill them in. And although her mother says she’s fine with the concept of Killian fathering her child, she can tell by the way she looks at and talks to her that she feels uneasy.

So here she finds herself, on a Friday evening laying in her bed at the top of the loft after a long nap— a follow up to a violent vomiting spell— listening in on her parents’ not-so-discreet conversation.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” she hears her father say from the kitchen. “Although I was expecting the worst. I almost thought she was going to be on her own.”

“He still has plenty of time to leave her on her own, David,” her mother deadpans in response.

“I know, but I don’t honestly see that happening. And if it does, she’ll have us, and I’ll have another excuse to punch him in the face.” Emma finds herself smiling softly at her father’s words, whereas last week they may have drawn her from bed and straight down the stairs to give him a piece of her mind. But she knows now that he’s right.

Killian hasn’t given her any indication that he isn’t all in on this with her, even if things don’t work out between the two of them. He’s taken to reading pregnancy books, and on Tuesday, when she reached 8 weeks of gestation, he happily informed her that their blueberry has grown into a raspberry. She may eventually introduce him to the world of smart phones so that he can download all the tracker apps he wants.

“You're right, you're right. I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time with this.”

“She’s our daughter. No one will ever be good enough for her.”

“I know, but I just felt like Neal was enough. He was her first love… I guess I just thought the two of them would work things out eventually. I know he wasn’t there for her, but he didn’t know about Henry. Maybe if he knew, things would’ve turned out differently.”

Emma rolls her eyes but knows that it isn’t fair of her to be angry with her mother for thinking this way when she knows she has no idea about what actually happened with Neal.

“You have to let that go, Snow. You can’t change what’s already happened. And not everyone can be as lucky as we were.”

“I’m just having trouble trusting Hook. Trusting that he has her best interests in mind.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you choose to trust Emma. She’s a tough kid, has been all her life. She knows how to take care of herself. And she seems to trust him.”

“I know, you're right. I do trust her. And if she trusts him…”

Emma thinks about getting up now, but when she tries to move, she feels exhaustion taking over her again. So instead, she makes a mental note to finally talk to her parents before drifting off into another seemingly endless nap.

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones

#try something new darling #it's about bloody time #because you want me #once upon a time fanfiction #once upon a time #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #canon divergence #fluff #angst #snow white #mary margaret blanchard #david nolan #prince charming #neal cassidy #baelfire

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Minghao: Find Our Way (Part Eight)

Characters: Minghao x (blind) female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, murder

Word count: 3,035

Summary: You already knew who you were meant to be with and how your life was supposed to go. The only thing keeping you and the life you were destined to lead apart was the fact you were blind. At least, for now, you could meet him in your dreams.

Tag list: @choiminjae0325 @heolykpop @fullsun-donghyuck @yoonbabe-d @exuwu @lets-get-1t @vintageot5 @sehunnies-hunnie96 @childfmoonn @wobwobkpop @henloimawierdobye @dirinast @joshwoah @wreckedbytae@sakura-uji (if you wanna be added please send an ask or a dm!!)

Unable to tag: @birthday-prinxess @sooooofrench

Previous | Next | Find Our Way Masterlist

All eyes went to Joshua. He was the only other person who had experienced what Minghao was. He had lost his pull to his mate before -- not counting when she had died -- but it was under very odd circumstances that he never really spoke to anybody about.

“Okay, but even if it was like what happened with Lilly,” Joshua began when the pack began bombarding him with questions, “why would _____ suddenly up and leave? And without her cane? She wouldn’t have gotten to the front door without bumping into everything or falling down the stairs, and that would’ve woken up the pack!”

“Nothing here is adding up,” Jihoon agreed.

While the pack went back and forth on what could’ve happened, Minghao was racking his brain as he tried to figure out what could’ve happened to you. You running away from him was completely out of the question for multiple reasons -- the top two being that you would need your cane to do so anyway, and he was positive you loved him as much as he loved you. Kidnapping was an option, but he was positive that the pack would’ve not only heard it happen, but he knew he would’ve sensed danger. Not only that, but your scent would’ve led somewhere other than just the middle of the woods before going cold like you disappeared out of thin air.

He gasped, looking up from the floor, “The witch!”

“The what?” Seungkwan asked.

“Sh-she said she met a witch at the market yesterday!” Minghao was babbling so quickly that his words were jumbling together. “She offered to fix _____’s eyes but she wanted to consult with me first.”

“Witches are very sneaky,” Seungcheol nodded. “The witch might’ve tracked _____ down and lured her out.”

“But what reason would a witch have to kidnap _____?” Jooyeon wondered.

“They don’t need a reason,” Soomin spoke up, already knowing a lot about witches. “They cause trouble for the hell of it. They’ll strike up an offer and keep up the offer, but there’s always a price.”

“The price being that Minghao can’t find her now,” Soonyoung guessed.

Seungcheol turned to look between Junhui and Jeonghan, “Did you see _____ talking to anybody yesterday at the market?”

Jooyeon raised her hand before either boy could reply, “She was looking at this one booth with some bag of bones running it. I went over to um...purchase a new knife or two...or five.”

“Do you remember where it was located?” Jun asked.

You explored the cottage a bit. There really wasn’t much to it. There was the den, which was the biggest room in the house. Then there was a small kitchen, and even smaller bedroom, and a bathroom. So you got pretty bored easily, figuring it would be rude to start sifting through the owner’s belongings like their books and whatnot.

The cat followed you around, occasionally chirping at you. You did find that there was a collar on the little cat’s neck that had a bell on it and a small circular tag that read Yeji. So you at least had a name to call the cat, but that was all the information you’d gathered while at the cottage.

Despite the situation, you were happy you could see. It was like a whole new world to you since you hadn’t been able to see since you were a child. The colors were so much more vivid than you remembered. You couldn’t wait for Minghao to come find you so you could finally look at him in person.

Meow.

You looked down to see Yeji looking up at you with her tail swishing again. You bent down, holding a hand out to her.

“What is it?” you asked as if she would answer.

Yeji only chirped before turning and running toward the kitchen. She leaped up onto the counter and put her two front paws on the windowsill before she turned back to look at you. You locked eyes for only a second before she slid out through the slightly open window and jumped down onto the ground.

“Yeji!” you called in almost a whine, not wanting to lose the only thing you had to keep you company.

You went over to the window and peered out to see if you could find the black cat, but she was nowhere to be found. You sighed, a pout forming on your face as you realized you were now alone. Part of you wished you’d closed the window, but you also didn’t want to trap the cat in here, too.

There was suddenly soft scratching on the front door, followed by little meows. You turned your head and walked over to the front door, unsure if you should open it or not.

“Yeji...?” you called before pressing your ear to the door.

Meow.

‘This cat is a little odd...’

You unlocked the door and opened it to see Yeji sitting and staring at you like always. She meowed once more before she got up and began trotting down the small grassy hill that led to the woods.

‘Why would a cottage be out here?’

‘Well, Soomin’s was in the woods, too.’

Yeji paused to look behind her, seeing that you were still standing in the doorway as you looked off into the woods.

Meow.

This one was a little sharper, bringing you from your thoughts. She took a few more steps before turning back and meowing at you again. All you could assume was that the little cat wanted to be followed, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you began following after the cat, who then stopped meowing at you.

You only got to walk halfway to where the trees started when you were abruptly stopped. It was almost like you ran into a wall except it didn’t quite feel solid and it didn’t hurt. You put your hands up and pressed, feeling some sort of force holding your hands at the invisible line that you couldn’t seem to cross.

However, Yeji had walked over toward the forest just fine.

She turned around and saw you standing there, fighting against the invisible barrier.

Meow!

This one seemed almost urgent or afraid. She trotted back over to you, meowing up at you like she was telling you to push harder. But no matter how hard you fought, you couldn’t cross over. You even started walking around the area and trying other places, but it was like there was a circle around the cottage keeping you in.

But what if it didn’t just effect you? What if it effected people trying to come in, too?

What if Minghao couldn’t find you?

Yeji seemed to tell you were panicking because you felt her butting her soft head against your leg. She purred and let out soft chirps. She looked up at you with her green eyes and meowed quietly before she turned and took off toward the forest until she disappeared into the greenery.

“Yeji!” you called, hoping maybe she would come back.

But she didn’t.

“Hello?” you called, eyes scanning the forest for anybody to come help you; to get you out of here even if you’d never know what happened to bring you here. “A-anybody...?”

But there was nobody there to hear you.

The pack essentially had to split up. Jooyeon led the first group through the market, trying to keep her head down as she looked for the knife vendor she stole from the day prior. If she could find that booth, she could find the witch.

The second group was waiting out in the forest, waiting for them to find the witch. Assuming she was dumb enough to return to the market, which they were betting on. Otherwise, they had nothing to go off of.

“There,” Jooyeon pointed over to a booth run by a burly-looking blacksmith with dirty hands and face. “I got the knives there, so...”

Their eyes traveled across the little path to...an empty booth.

Jeonghan let out a sigh, his eyes closing, “Fuck... What are we gonna do?”

“What are we going to tell Minghao?” Seungkwan frowned, looking around the group for answers.

Meow.

Jeonghan’s eyes snapped back to the booth, seeing a long-haired black cat perched on the table that he assumed would normally hold the witch’s products she sold. The cat’s piercing green eyes stared back at him, its tail swishing softly off the table.

“Can witches turn into cats?” Jeonghan wondered quietly.

The rest of the group looked over to see why he was asking, and they were a little surprised to see the cat suddenly sitting there.

Jun slowly cocked his head to one side, “I’m not...sure...”

“Soomin might know,” Hansol suggested.

“Yeah, and that’s perfect to know when she’s not here,” Josh nodded.

Meow.

“Hi, kitty,” Junhui cooed as he walked slowly toward the cat as to not spook it. He always loved animals -- especially the strays in town that would wonder into the woods and he would always pet and play with -- so of course he was the first to try to approach the cat. “What’re you doing here so suddenly?”

The cat didn’t move from its spot, meowing again.

“It’s a loud little thing, huh?” Jeonghan murmured.

Jun approached the cat until he could reach out a hand and touch it. So he put his hand out for the cat to sniff, but it only stood up and walked to the other end of the table, glancing at the boy over its shoulder. It meowed again before jumping down onto the ground and beginning to walk to the outskirts of the market.

“You scared it off,” Joshua frowned, whacking Jun in the shoulder.

However, they watched as the cat stopped and looked behind itself to see if they were following. It meowed louder and kept standing there, watching.

Jun took a step forward.

The cat took a step forward and meowed.

“Weird thing, too,” Jeonghan noted.

“No, I think it wants to be followed,” Junhui said before he began walking after the cat.

“That’s still weird,” Jooyeon stated.

“Seungkwan, go tell the others that the witch wasn’t here, but we might’ve found a lead. If we find her, we’ll bring her back,” Jeonghan instructed before going to tag up with those following the cat.

“Wait, but I wanna see what happens!” Seungkwan whined.

“Tough,” the older wolf spat before catching up with the group.

All Minghao could do was pace. Danbi even offered Jiwoo for him to hold as a distraction, and that was the first ever time any of the wolves declined an opportunity to hold the baby. How could he sit still when he knew they had no leads? They were just following a cat! What would that do? They’d never find you now, and he’d never know what happened to you. His whole world was crumbling.

“While some witches can shapeshift,” Soomin began explaining when the question was brought up, “some also have familiars that assist them -- whether it be to help them be good or bad. Though, most familiars are able to shift between their human form and their animal form.”

“Like werewolves,” Chan shrugged.

“Essentially, yes.”

“So that cat might be the witch or the witch’s familiar?” Seungkwan asked.

“But if it’s the witch, why would it lead the pack elsewhere?” Seungcheol wondered. “Unless it’s something bad.”

“But one witch versus all of them?” Mingyu reminded him. “They’ll be fine.”

“Can familiars do anything?” Soonyoung asked Wonwoo’s mate.

“Some have very limited and weak powers, but just one familiar would be nothing against the others.”

“So it’s either the witch or the familiar,” Jihoon decided with a solid nod.

“Or,” Wonwoo spoke up, “they’re just following around some cat. It wouldn’t be the first time Junhui’s done that, anyway.”

Minghao didn’t want to believe that. He wanted to believe they had a lead on where you were. He hoped it was the witch herself, but he wasn’t sure why the witch would want their attention. Actually, he wasn’t sure why the witch’s familiar would help them, either. Oh god, what if it was just a cat?

All of the wolves stopped, eyes looking toward the door as their ears picked up on noise. There was an unfamiliar voice that sounded much older and like it had smoked too much tobacco. It sounded like it was struggling, too, grunting and demanding to be let go of.

Then they recognized the scent of their pack, and Minghao was rushing toward the door before anybody else could move. He threw the backdoor open and saw the group of wolves -- and Jooyeon -- walking out of the forest. Joshua and Jeonghan had a strong grip on an elderly woman in a dark red cloak as she kicked and fought against them. Her hair was white and stringy and long, and she had crooked and missing teeth that showed whenever she spoke.

“Is that...?”

“Unfortunately,” Joshua grunted. “She tried to bite me three times on the way here.”

“Told you I could just knock the rest of her teeth out,” Jooyeon shrugged.

“How did you find her?” Seungcheol asked, appearing behind the Chinese wolf.

But, of course, his eyes found his mate and he had to rush right over to her and look her over instead of wait for any answers. But the rest of the pack was waiting to hear how they tracked down the old hag.

“That cat led us to her,” Hansol shrugged. “The lady set up shop in the next town over.”

The two boys managed to get the witch into the house before they dug out some rope and tied her down to a chair in the kitchen. The pack gathered around, ready to interrogate. Seungcheol insisted the mates stay upstairs -- including Jooyeon, who protested very loudly -- so Mingyu and Wonwoo both went to stay with them since the alpha’s mate would be a handful to keep there.

“Alright, lady,” Soonyoung began with a disgusted look on his face as he scanned the old witch, “what did you do with _____?”

“I’ve never heard that name in my life,” she stated simply.

“You look like you’ve been alive for millenniums so I don’t think you would remember if you have anyway,” Jihoon muttered under his breath.

“We know you kidnapped a girl from here last night,” Seungcheol stated, using his ‘alpha voice’. “Tell us where you brought her. Why can’t her mate feel the pull to her?”

The woman smirked, showing off her mostly-toothless grin that made a few of them cringe away from her, “Looks like lover boy will just have to suffer without her then if he can’t find her.”

“If you don’t tell us where she is, we’ll kill you,” Jihoon stated in a growl, golden eyes turning red as they narrowed.

“I’d sooner die than help a werewolf,” she spat before literally spitting in the direction of the shorter wolf.

The three alphas looked between each other, considering their options. They weren’t sure how to get answers out of her. They could try torturing her, but they didn’t want to do that. Even if it was to find a mate, they weren’t sure they could go through with that.

Well, maybe a little bit.

Jihoon lifted his hand, his eyes faintly glowing to life as he curled his hand out like he were holding the witch by the throat. As he began to bend his fingers, pressure was applied to her neck, closing her airways.

“Tell us where she is,” Seungcheol demanded. “What did you do with her?”

The witch only laughed more, choking out, “You’ll never...find her.”

“This is your last chance, hag!” Soonyoung barked. “Tell us or we’ll kill you.”

Minghao watched silently from the sidelines, unsure if he could take part in this. But knowing that he wasn’t getting any answers, something in him snapped. He shoved his way to the front of the crowd, even pushing Jihoon away and losing his concentration with his power. Minghao gripped the witch by her collar and pulled her so close that their noses almost touched.

“Tell me where my mate is!” he demanded in a snarl that ripped through his chest and even frightened a few of his brothers. “I want her back now!”

“I’m a powerful witch, dog,” she chuckled. “I know how to make it so you’ll never find her.”

“Tell me!” Minghao was yelling in her face, his face turning so red that his brothers thought he might explode.

She only laughed in his face, finding amusement in his anger.

Without even thinking, Minghao’s eyes glowed as his power kicked in. And since the last special werewolf he touched was Jihoon, it was his power. Minghao stepped back and raised his palm to the witch like the older wolf had, except he was curling his fingers at a much faster rate, choking the witch much quicker.

The whole time, she smiled and laughed until she didn’t have the air in her to laugh anymore. The light faded from her eyes, Minghao staring her down with a glare and a clenched jaw, his glowing eyes filled with hot tears.

“Hao...?” Soonyoung spoke up softly.

Minghao let out a sigh, dropping his hand as his gaze fell to the floor. His eyes turned back to their normal yellow as tears began to slip down his cheeks. They may have gotten rid of the person who caused the problem -- and would no doubt cause more for them if they didn’t get rid of her -- but they were no closer to finding you. He was no closer to having you in his arms again.

While the pack was consoling Minghao inside, the cat from earlier was sitting outside. Her ears twitched as she heard the witch she was supposed to ‘work for’ being choked to death before finally dying. Satisfied with that, she turned and began running through the forest back to you, the poor girl waiting alone at the cottage.

She would fix this. She wasn’t sure how yet, but she would reunite you with your mate.

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whumphoarder · 4 years

Text

Flying Blind

Summary: Tony’s never been one to turn down a mission. Even when he can’t see shit.

Word count: 2,194

Genre: light whump, humor

A/N: Happy birthday @awesomesockes!! Hope you enjoy! Thanks @xxx-cat-xxx & @sallyidss for beta-reading and ideas!

Link to read on Ao3

It starts, as bad things in life so often do, with a series of headaches.

Having been prone to migraines since adolescence, Tony doesn’t think much of them at first. As long as the pain in his head and the slight blur to his vision are content to stay ‘irritating’ rather than ‘debilitating,’ he doesn’t complain. He pops some Advil and chugs a few glasses of water, which doesn’t exactly help, but doesn’t not help either. Pepper’s always harping on him about being chronically dehydrated anyway.

Truth is, headaches are so common for Tony that it takes an embarrassingly long time for a man of his intelligence to connect them with all the squinting he’s been doing lately. Or how he’s having to stand a little further back from his holographic images than usual so that he can make out the letters. Or how he’s had FRIDAY increase his screen font size from eleven to twelve. And then thirteen.

It’s simple: Tony’s going blind.

Well, alright, fine—not blind. But old, which is arguably worse. Vision is the first to go after all, and then it’ll be his six-pack, and his memory, and his hair, and before he knows it he’ll be tuning in every afternoon for a new episode of Jeopardy and soaking his pearly whites in a cup of Polident.

Anyway, that’s why, when Tony realizes he might possibly need glasses, he doesn’t request an appointment with SHIELD’s in-house optometrist, nor does he ask Happy to drive him to the unassuming private office downtown that he contacts instead. He just drives himself—which seems like a fantastic idea until he steps out of the office into the blinding brightness of the spring afternoon to find that he cannot, in fact, see shit.

“Well this sucks,” he mutters, blinking multiple times in an effort to clear his watery, stinging, freshly dilated eyes. His vision is so blurred that he trips over an unexpected half-step and only barely manages to avoid face planting onto the sidewalk. He slips on his high tech sunglasses. “Up the tint by fifty percent,” he commands under his breath. The glasses darken immediately and Tony sighs in relief as the strain on his eyes eases marginally. “Now where’s the damn car?”

A route to the parking lot illuminates before Tony’s eyes. He grunts sharply, squeezing his eyes shut against the flash of pain. “Verbal, FRI!” he hisses. “No visuals, just words.”

“Sorry, boss,” she says, and the lenses revert to dark. “Fifteen paces straight ahead, then a sharp right.” Tony starts moving cautiously forward, eyes focused on what he can make out of the ground. “Would you like me to contact Mr. Hogan or Ms. Potts to pick you up?”

Tony pauses. On one hand, he can barely see—there’s no way he should be driving. But on the other hand, the Audi has so many upgrades and added safety features that it basically drives itself. Not to mention, he’s pretty sure that if he calls Happy or Pepper at the moment, he’s never going to hear the end of this.

“...Or perhaps an Uber?” FRIDAY suggests helpfully.

“Nah,” Tony decides. He taps the housing unit on his chest and the nanotech instantly encases him. “Just keep feeding the meter. I’ll take the Iron Express.”

There’s a hint of disapproval in FRIDAY’s voice. “Given your current condition, I would strongly advise against operating any sort of heavy machinery.”

“That’s why I’m not operating it,” he retorts. “You are.”

“Still, I must caution you—” The AI’s voice cuts out abruptly. “I have just received an urgent incoming message from Captain Rogers,” she informs.

Tony’s heart sinks. There’s only one reason that Steve ever uses the emergency override channel, and it’s definitely not to shoot the breeze. “How bad is it?”

“A wormhole has just opened up over Staten Island. Scronquad are invading as we speak,” she reports. “All the Avengers have been ordered to assemble.”

“Fantastic,” Tony groans. He briefly considers sending an empty suit from the Iron Legion in his stead, but then nixes that idea when he remembers that none of his spare suits have the exact same color scheme as the current model. Steve is nothing if not detail-oriented—probably the artist in him. He’ll notice in a heartbeat.

He heaves out a sigh. “Alright, set the coordinates, FRI.”

“Boss—” the AI begins to protest, but Tony interrupts with, “Override code: 6673.”

FRIDAY goes silent. The helmet materializes around him, the HUD lighting up automatically.

“Gah!” Tony yelps, squeezing his burning eyes shut tightly. “What’d I just say about the lights?” he complains. “No lights!”

“Sorry, boss.” The display goes dark, leaving only a heavily tinted view of the fuzzy world around him.

Tony engages autopilot and blasts off before he has time to change his mind.

As far as hostile aliens go, Scronquad are about as annoying as they come. They’re anywhere from eight to twelve feet tall, their scales are a hideous shade of maroon and green, and each one of their ten writhing tentacles oozes a gelatinous slime that somehow manages to smell simultaneously of rotten eggs and expired tuna fish. When they move, there’s an ugly squelching sound as their bodies glide across the ground, similar to the sound of pulling one’s boots out of the mud. They’re nefarious, destructive, repulsive creatures, and never in a million years would Tony have dreamed there’d come a day when he missed seeing their fugly little faces.

First time for everything, he supposes.

“Six o’clock,” FRIDAY chirps. Tony whirls around, head pounding, and catches sight of the blurry outline of a massive purple figure. He fires his repulsor at his best guess of where its head is located and receives a garbled roar of fury in exchange.

“Too low,” FRIDAY corrects. “You’ve taken out his seventh and eighth tentacles.”

“Seventh and— what?” Tony sputters. He fires again, a little higher. “Starting where? He’s a fucking cylinder!”

“Starting at his navel—which is located above his middle eyebrow—and moving clockwise,” FRIDAY clarifies. “Duck, boss.”

Tony drops to the ground a split second before one of the alien’s remaining two-hundred-pound tentacles swings overhead.

“Roll left,” the AI continues. Tony barrel rolls to the side, narrowly missing the appendage’s backhand. “Scronquad at ten o’clock.”

Switching gauntlets, Tony shoots a repulsor beam at the blob approaching on his front left side. The alien blasts backwards. He spins back around and spies another blurry moving purple shape—smaller this time—and instinctively raises his gauntlet towards it.

“Hold fire.” Power to his repulsor instantly cuts out. “That’s Barton, boss,” FRIDAY informs as the figure darts across the street.

“Ah.” Tony winces. “Yeah, good call. That would’ve been a lot of paperwork.”

FRIDAY continues rattling off directions, which Tony follows more or less blindly—firing, charging, and evading as instructed. Every blast of the repulsor results in an explosion of light that shoots daggers of pain through his head. The only thing Tony is seeing at the moment is stars.

Tony keeps the team comms channel playing low in the background under FRIDAY’s verbal directions, and they seem to be making headway. According to Cap’s last update, the wormhole has been closed. Only two of the initial six Scronquad remain, and from the sounds of it, Natasha is close to taking down another.

“Overhead,” FRIDAY warns.

Tony shoots directly upwards, but this time the Scronquad is ready. The repulsor blast ricochets off the protective forcefield that the alien throws up at the last possible second. Tony barely even has time to register what’s happening before he’s blasted backwards and collides with the brick wall of the Wells Fargo office across the street.

Then it’s lights out for real.

The next thing Tony is aware of is his helmet being retracted. Then someone is tapping the side of his face and speaking to him. It takes a few seconds before the garbled words clear into intelligible speech.

“...with me? Hey? Tony?” a voice—Steve’s, he thinks—asks worriedly. “Can you open your eyes for us?”

That sounds like a terrible idea to Tony. He expresses this with a low groan of displeasure.

“Anyone have eyes on Banner?” Steve demands.

“I see him—he’s coming down the side street,” Natasha calls back. She sounds further away—maybe a few yards to Tony’s left. “Still looking a little green, though.”

Aw, fuck. Tony hates to bother the guy when he’s coming down off a transformation. He should really say something. Or at least open his eyes. He makes an attempt to flutter his eyelids open, but they seem to weigh at least a thousand pounds each and he only succeeds in letting out a small moan.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be alright, Tony,” Steve reassures, patting his shoulder with a heavy hand. “Bruce is coming now.”

Rapid footsteps approach. “I got him, Steve,” Bruce says, his voice a little ragged. Poor guy. From what Tony heard over the comms, Hulk really put him through the wringer today. But Tony’s sympathy instantly dissolves when the doctor pries his eyelids open and shines a penlight into them, causing fresh pain to explode through Tony’s already throbbing skull.

“Gah! Fuck!” he gasps out, squirming away from Bruce’s fingers and clenching his eyes shut again.

“Both pupils are blown,” Bruce says grimly. “The concussion must be worse than we thought. How far out is the Medevac?”

“ETA seven minutes,” Natasha reports. “But there’s no space to land in the alley here.”

“Should we move him?” Clint suggests.

“No, definitely not,” Bruce answers immediately. “FRIDAY was obviously wrong about the concussion—I don’t trust her assessment that he hasn’t sustained any spinal damage either. We’ll have to wait for a backboard and neck brace.”

Well, that’s totally unnecessary. Sure there’s a goose egg on the back of Tony’s skull somewhere and he definitely got the wind knocked out of him when he fell, but he doesn’t need a whole evac —that’s ridiculous. To prove it, he starts to push himself up, but is quickly stopped by a strong hand on his chest.

“Stay still, Tony,” Steve commands, his voice grave. “Don’t try to move yet—we don’t know how badly you’re hurt.”

“Nah, ‘m fine…” Tony groans. He forces himself to open his eyes again and squints up at his worried looking teammates hovering over him.

“Jesus…” Clint whispers, peering down at Tony from above. “He looks like the dolls in that horror film Lila loves. The one with the creepy mother who replaces everyone’s eyes with black buttons.”

“Coraline?” Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a children’s movie, Barton.”

Clint shudders. “It was terrifying.”

“Hey, guys? Keep it down, alright?” Steve reprimands. “He’s concussed.”

Tony would roll his eyes if they weren’t currently drilling holes into his skull. “I’m not concussed,” he mutters.

Steve scoffs. “Sure, Tony.”

“I’m not,” Tony insists. He props himself up on his elbows and this time Steve doesn’t stop him. “My eyes are just dilated. It’s not a concussion.”

Bruce’s expression knits into a worried frown. He leans in closer to Tony. “Wait, does that mean you, uh…”—he lowers his voice—“fell off the wagon?”

“What? No!” Tony retorts, sitting up straighter. “I’m not high, and I’m not concussed! I had an eye exam, but I must be allergic to those stupid drops or something because I can’t see shit right now, alright?”

A collective snort of disbelief issues from the little group around him, but Tony just continues to glare at them. Well, it’s more of an annoyed squint, really. Then all at once, they all start talking over one another:

“Are you telling me you just flew a mission blind?!” Steve demands.

“Tony!” Bruce admonishes, looking somehow personally hurt by this. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Nat crosses her arms and fixes him with a blank expression. “That’s insane, even for you.”

Clint scoffs. “Is that why you were briefly planning on barbecuing me back there?”

“Well, you shouldn’t wear purple shirts on Scronquad days!” Tony retorts hotly. “Everyone knows that!”

“Why don’t you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up right now, Stark?” Clint says, making a rather rude gesture.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Steve declares over the squabble. He turns toward Clint and fixes him with a stern look. “Barton, from now on, you need to avoid color coordinating with the homicidal aliens.”

“What?” Clint balks. “You’re taking his side?”

“And as for you,” Steve goes on sharply, glaring straight into Tony’s blown pupils. “No more flying blind.”

Tony snorts. “Isn’t that the whole job?”

Natasha smirks. “He’s got a point there, Cap,” she says, eliciting a small chuckle from Bruce.

Steve looks unamused. He grabs hold of one of Tony’s arms and hoists him to his feet.

The change in elevation does nothing to help Tony’s swimming vision. He blinks several times, feeling suddenly dizzy and sick. “You know, on second thought...” Tony mumbles, swaying a bit. “I might be a bit concussed after all.”

Steve sighs and adjusts his grip to bear more of Tony’s weight. “Alright old man, let’s just get you home…”

Link to all my fics

#hurt tony stark #tony stark whump #humor #banter #team as family #blindness #concussions #headaches #shining the light in the eyes #ima make that a tag for ya bro #my fic #happy birthday cecily!

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mintymiknow · 5 years

Text

Wishful Thinking | Lee Minho

Summary: Dating Lee Minho, you thought, was merely wishful thinking - a fantasy or dream, if you will. After all, he was way beyond your reach.

[College AU] [WC: approx. 5.2k words]

Genre: Fluff, just a very mini hint of angst

A/N: Today’s a special day! When I started biasing Minho, I knew that there would never be a dull day. He’s such a funny, caring, savage, sassy, talented, precious, handsome, please list all the amazing adjectives here, kind of man. Thus, it would only be natural for me to write something dedicated to him on his special day. I am super busy with college, but I managed to sneak this in. Happy birthday to my ult bias, the one and only best boy dancing gem of Stray Kids! I love him with all my heart, and I wish him the best! Hope y’all enjoy this!

You never won staring contests. Never. But this particular match had kicked you into mega competitive mode, and you refused to back down. Not now, not ever.

Not when the cat’s pair of beady eyes were staring deep into your soul, pleading for you to give it yet another treat.

“I already gave you one, Pompom.” you giggle at the fluffy white cat, “That should be enough until the staff feed you.”

The cat simply meowed, its little tail swinging to the side much too cutely. You giggle, shaking your head with little firmness. You cross your arms when Pompom settles in your lap, nuzzling her face against your stomach. “Minho?” you laugh.

Shortly after, one of the cat café’s staff approaches you with a familiar chuckle, “Pompom trying to bribe you again?”

You smile up at the male, secretly screaming at the charming smirk that had slipped onto his lips, “She’s really hungry.”

“I just fed her before you came.” Minho crouches down, running his fingers along the cat’s white fur.

“Well, clearly, she isn’t satisfied.”

“She never is.” Minho jokes, causing to you chuckle. The male gestures towards the other cats in the café, “Pom, look. All your friends are playing around. You should join them.”

The cat meows, snuggling further into your lap. You tilt your head at Minho, raising your eyebrows as if to say “would you look at that”. The male smiles to himself, shaking his head as he ends up sitting on the floor with you. He reaches out to caress Pompom once again, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. He coos at the cat as if conversing with a baby, and the amused twinkle in his eyes sends a wave of giddy butterflies crashing against your stomach.

You first met Minho through Woojin, a mutual friend. You both did volunteer work at your university’s library and were pretty close. His friends often hung out at the library when Woojin was on duty, and that is how you were introduced to the handsome dance major Lee Minho. You wouldn’t say you were very close, but there was a strong connection between you two, and eventually, you found out that Minho worked part-time in a cat café near campus – mainly because he loved cats so much. It was a stress reliver for him, per se.

That explains why you frequented that particular cat café every so often, usually when you yourself were under stress. By doing so, you and Minho were able to spend even more time together, without the honorary “cute couple” teasing from Han Jisung and Seo Changbin.

You were much too focused on staring at his starry eyes to notice that his gaze had shifted from Pompom to you. He playfully grins, leaning closer with confidence, “Earth to y/n?”

You nearly choke, cheeks getting hot as you jerk backwards, an awkward giggle escaping your lips, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Minho finds it in himself to laugh before leaning with his back against the wall, “I asked if you wanted to go out with me.”

“Excuse me, what?” you say again, eyes wide and heart switching gears to panic mode.

Minho shrugs casually, the expression on his face rather calm and unreadable as he cradles Pompom in his arms, “I feel like getting some ice cream, and my shift’s over anyway. Wanna come?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he meant “go out” as in the whole dating-kind-of-go-out, but who were you to expect that? Funny of you to think he meant that. Obviously, he literally meant “go outside to buy ice cream together”. Lee Minho was out of your reach – popular, handsome, talented, and charming Lee Minho wouldn’t ask bookish you out, would he?

Despite the sinking feeling in your heart, you offer the male a smile, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Great, let’s go.” Minho beams, gently placing Pompom on the floor.

Taking your hand in his without much thought, he pulls you up. His hand is still clasped around yours as he says goodbye to Pompom. You do the same, blowing a little kiss towards the fluffy cat.

Minutes later, you find yourself in the part, walking side by side as you snack on your strawberry popsicle. Minho squeals as he delights in his mint-choco ice cream, eyes crinkling happily. “Craving satisfied.” he chuckles.

You grin at him, “You really do find joy in the simplest things, don’t you?”

“Well,” Minho laughs, “how else am I going to be happy? Life’s better when you enjoy everything.”

“Wise words from Lee Minho.” you joke.

The male winks, “What can I say? I am pretty wise.”

“I think Pompom’s wiser than you.”

“See now, that’s offensive.” Minho raises an eyebrow, playfully clutching his chest as if in pain.

You laugh, but before you can utter anything in response to Minho’s statement, he leans forward to eat the remaining piece of your popsicle. “Minho!” you squeal, swatting his chest in retaliation.

Minho ends up laughing, a triumphant grin taunting you in the haughtiest way possible. “What? It’s only right after you offended me.”

“I did no such thing!” you cross your arms, pouting just enough to seem irritated.

Though in all honesty, Minho thinks you just look cute. He chuckles, bending down to your height as he teases, “Aww, is y/n sad? Shall I buy you another one so you don’t cry?”

“Hey, Min – ”

Before you can finish calling him out, you suddenly feel hands cupping your cheeks, giving them a squeeze as your lips pout even more. Minho giggles goofily, amused at his own antics. You furrow your eyebrows, hoping the gesture is enough to conceal how wild your heart was beating right now. What was he doing?

Stop playing with my heart. Stop making me fall for you. Stop looking at me like I’m your whole world. Stop it. It’s never happening.

You both stand there, staring at each other’s eyes; a hint of playfulness speckled in his irises, lighting them up with a brightness like no other. Adoration mixed with confusion and embarrassment swam in your own eyes, creating a colorful mix of emotions that had the male secretly hooked. You finally muster the courage to grip his wrists, peeling his hands away from your cheeks. “What are you doing?” you cautiously ask, a sliver of hope tingling at your mind as you wish he’d answer you with something swoon-worthy.

Minho eyes widen in surprise – confusion maybe – but his features eventually soften before he shakes his head. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips as he says, “Nothing. Come on. We should head back to campus. I need to study.”

“Alright.” you nod, using all your might to hide the disappointment in your voice. “Let’s go.”

Who were you kidding? It was all just wishful thinking.

Han Jisung and Yang Jeongin just entered the library like kings, only for the former to trip on the rug, pushing Jeongin along. Woojin stifles a laugh as the two of you sort the pile of returned books in the library, clearly amused at the two younger males. Jisung winks at you, leaning against the counter as if nothing happened, “That, y/n, is how you make an entrance.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you chuckle, giving him a playful nod.

“Please don’t.” Woojin jokes, gently swatting Jisung’s head with a book.

Jeongin laughs, smiling brightly as he takes a seat by the table across the counter. “At least you’d get everyone’s attention.”

“No thanks. I’m good with laying low.” Woojin smiles, only for a chuckle to follow. “Y/n, can you return these books to the history aisle? Thank you.”

You happily nod, carrying the small stack of books towards the said aisle. You did not, however, expect to see Minho standing there, fingers going along the spines of several books as if he were grocery shopping. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Minho’s head jerks towards your voice, his lips immediately curling into a smile, “What? Can’t dance majors read a little history?”

“What for?” you chuckle, placing the books back one by one.

The male takes a few from your stack, assisting you in returning them. With a gentle hum, Minho answers your query, “I have History as an elective. Don’t ask why.”

“Why?”

“I just said don’t ask that.” Minho laughs, pinching your cheek playfully.

You softly giggle, voice timid and almost inaudible. The sight of a bashful you sends Minho melting inside, but before he can dwell on such soft feelings, he clears his throat, “Anyway, I was going to ask you something.”

“What? You need help studying history?” you tease.

Of course, playing it off as a joke was your constant coping mechanism. Deep inside, you were feeling pretty nervous. Why was Minho’s tone so serious? Why did he look at you like something urgent was happening? He opens his mouth again, only to be cut off at the worst timing possible.

“Minho, there you are.”

The universe was truly cruel. A group of about three students appear behind Minho. The latter turns around, giving them a playful salute, “Hey guys.”

The group – probably Minho’s fellow dance majors – each give him a high-five or fist bump. One male smacks Minho’s back, as any other guy would greet their friend, before grinning widely, “You’re going tonight, right? Jackson’s party?”

Minho tilts his head before turning it ever so slightly towards your direction as if to check on you or ask for approval. Another girl excitedly waves at you before turning to Minho, her eyebrows raised mischievously, “We’re all going to be there. I think Hyunjin and Felix are too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Minho grins that charismatic smile, running his fingers through his hair in a smooth motion, “I’ll be there for sure.”

The group exchange a few words like “nice”, “see you there”, and “that’s the spirit” before waving goodbye and making their leave. Minho turns back to you, smiling widely like nothing happened. “What was I saying?”

“You were going to ask something.” you say, much more interested in the books than at making eye contact with the male.

Minho hums for a few seconds before pouting. “I forgot.” he chuckles sheepishly, “I’ll be sure to text you as soon as I remember.”

“No pressure.” you whisper, forcing a smile, “Now, I have to sort some more books.”

“Alright. See you around.” Minho ruffles your hair before turning on his heel to look for another book.

You stand there, biting your bottom lip. It’s ok. You weren’t entitled to having Minho all to yourself, after all. He isn’t obliged to spend time with you if he didn’t want to. Your nose started to get all red and runny, causing you to sniff.

Ah. It’s really cold in the library.

On a Friday night, most college students would either be out partying or sleeping in to make up for all the sleepless nights, but perhaps you had a different agenda. Perhaps a bunch of cute and fluffy cats would help you cope with what you’d call “a broken heart”.

As if. Why would your heart be broken? You never had any right to Minho, and neither of you really made any indications about how you felt towards each other. Why would you be heartbroken, indeed. Nonetheless, you found yourself surrounded by a number of cats in the usual cat café. You gently smile at each one, taking turns in giving them pets and little scratches under the chin.

One particular cat reminded you of Minho; dark gray fur that mimicked Minho’s dark, ashy blue hair, eyes that held the whole galaxy in them, and lips that curl at the sides much too cutely. The cat, whose name was apparently Mimi, stares up at you with glossy eyes, meowing softly for attention. You chuckle, giving the feline little scratches. As if smiling at you, Mimi purrs and nuzzles her cheek into the palm of your hand. You giggle, cradling her in your arms, “Aren’t you a cutie?”

As Mimi falls asleep in your arms, the room falls silent. Your eyes feel heavy as your vision blurs with tears you didn’t realize had formed. You look around – the cats are playing and lazing around while one of the café staff busied himself with the other customers who were enjoying their drinks. No one else was in the room with cats but you. Thankfully, you had cats for company.

Your eyes are glued to Mimi sleeping on your lap as you whisper to yourself, “Funny how the person who makes me the happiest also makes me the saddest.”

As if on cue, your phone rings with Minho’s caller ID on screen. The mere sight of his name makes your heart jump with a range of emotions as you pick up. “Hello?”

The sound of music in the background is much too loud for your taste with random people shouting and hooting here and there. “Minho?” you repeat, just in case the male couldn’t hear you.

You wait for a few seconds, but Minho doesn’t respond; instead, you hear one of his friends exclaiming, “Minho, get ready for round three!”

The last thing you hear is Minho’s hearty laugh, followed by an overly enthusiastic “ok” from him. You sigh, ending the call. Mimi shifts on your lap, curling into a cute bundle. You bitterly smile, hopelessly wishing it was Minho’s head that lay on your lap so you could run your fingers through his luscious locks as he’d gaze up at you. But that’s all it was; hopeless wishing and pining; wishful thinking.

After another hour of spending your precious time with the cats, you decide to go back to your apartment. You don’t stay in the campus dorms, preferring to stay in an apartment all to yourself – more privacy, more freedom, and more opportunity to cry yourself to sleep without a roommate judging you with questionable looks.

After you’ve showered and changed into comfortable clothes, you preoccupy by binge-watching videos on YouTube. Before you know it, it’s gotten late and you’re just about ready to pour all your tears onto your pillow until a loud banging is heard on your door. You yelp in surprise, covering your mouth afterwards. Would Woojin be visiting you at these ungodly hours to finish more groupworks? You wouldn’t think so. When you don’t answer the door, another knock is heard, and you contemplate on just ignoring it.

That is, until a familiar voice calls from the other side, “Y/n, it’s me. Open up.”

You straighten your figure, cautiously walking over to the door, “Minho?”

“No, it’s Jisung.” he chortles, “Yes, of course it’s Minho.”

A small part of you really didn’t feel like seeing his handsome face, smirking at you and throwing all sorts of teasing remarks, but a larger part also wanted to see him at the same time. With a sigh of defeat, you open the door to reveal a grinning Minho. “May I?”

“Ah, go ahead.”

You move to the side to let Minho in, and as soon as he steps inside, he makes a beeline for your couch. He slumps onto the cushions, releasing a deep sigh. “Are you ok?” you inquire, taking in his disheveled appearance. You did not want to know what caused him to look like that.

“It’s really hot, isn’t it?” Minho laughs.

You worriedly raise an eyebrow, “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” Minho admits, using his fingers to demonstrate “how little” his drunkenness was.

You shake your head, reaching for your phone, “Call your roommate. Changbin might be worried so you should go back to the dorms and rest.”

Minho scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “I can’t. Changbin’s probably asleep. Besides, the dorm curfew is 11:00. It’s already 12:30; they won’t let me in.”

“So are you saying – ”

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

Minho chuckles, giving you a sleepy grin, “Can I spend the night here?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you say, the shock in your voice evident.

The male merely smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “Relax, y/n. I may be drunk – a little – but I’m sober enough to be careful around you. I won’t do anything, I promise.”

You cross your arms, averting your eyes and opting to look everywhere but at him. Now this here was a recipe for disaster. Under other circumstances, having Minho so close and so private with you would be a dream come true; of course, that wasn’t the case. Letting this happen would just hurt you even more – break your fragmented heart even more than it already was; because you knew that after Minho would spend the night, he’d act as if nothing happened and would continue along with his carefree attitude, paying no heed to how you were silently yearning for him.

Minho makes little pleading sounds and cutely says “please” repetitively, and despite the warning signals your brain sends, you give in. “Fine.” you sigh, “I have a really big hoodie, so please change into that. You smell like alcohol.”

“Yay.” he laughs, getting up from the couch to kiss your cheek.

You flinch at the contact, but Minho is too busy stripping his shirt off to notice your reaction. You pray you don’t burst into flames as you reach for your hoodie and hand it over to the male. When Minho slips it on, he offers you another sleepy smile, “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, gesturing to the bathroom, “you can wash up there.”

Without another word, Minho walks along and disappears into your bathroom. You hear the water running from the sink, and while Minho’s busy in there, you immediately dial Woojin’s phone. “Why are you calling me at this hour, y/n?” he chuckles.

You hiss, “Minho is drunk and crashing in my place!”

“So?” Woojin teases, “Don’t you want that?”

“I am not like that! And, it’s just…you know. Weird.”

“Why?”

You sniffle, urging your tears to retreat, “Wooj, it’s hard to explain. He gives me so much joy, but he also gives me so much heartache. He can’t just waltz in here and act like this is a completely normal thing to do to someone who has feelings – ”

“Now, who is this ‘he’ person that I need to beat up?”

You’re once again surprised by Minho’s voice, muscles frozen as you hesitate to turn your head. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, goodnight, bye.” you whisper, promptly ending the call.

Stiffly, you turn your head, teary eyes met with Minho’s sleepy yet dazzling ones. The male’s expression morphs from playful to worried in an instant upon seeing the glassiness in your eyes. You notice how he looks at you with concern, so you force yourself to grin and chuckle despite the sound of your heart ripping apart, “Oh, no one. I was just…copying a line I read from a book.”

Minho approaches you, steps a bit wobbly from his tipsy state, “Then why are you crying?”

“Crying? I’m not crying.”

“Y/n, your eyes are so teary. Don’t lie.”

“I just yawned a lot, Minho.”

“Lies.”

“How would you know? You’re drunk.”

Minho pouts his lips, “Sober enough to tell something’s wrong, y/n.”

You chew on your lip, lost in your own thoughts and doubts as you contemplate on Minho’s words. You’re too absorbed in your thoughts, Minho has to whisper again, “Y/n?”

“I think we should sleep, Minho.” you utter quietly, gently pushing him towards your bed, “You’ll need it.”

You continue to gently usher him into lying down. He doesn’t protest when you pull the covers over him, simply going along with your instructions. You give him one last ambiguous smile before turning to leave. The minute you step forward, Minho is quick to grab onto your wrist, “Where are you going?”

“The couch.”

“Why?” he asks like a child.

“Why?” you nervously laugh, “Obviously, I can’t sleep beside you.”

“Why not?”

“Minho – ”

“Please?” he tilts his head, smile much too inviting for your judgement, “I promise I won’t do anything. Just…stay here.”

“No funny business, Minho.” you sigh as you find yourself under the sheets beside Minho.

He smiles at you, eyes melting with fondness, “Promise, y/n.”

“Now sleep.” you cover his face with your hand.

Minho laughs, taking your hand in his as he moves it away from his face, “Thanks, y/n.”

You merely stare at him, blinking your eyes a few times. The look of softness on Minho’s face sends you to cloud nine, and before you know it, his eyelids flutter shut. You pull your hand away, missing the warmth of his touch as soon as you do. You quickly turn your body to the opposite side, refusing to let your heart fall further. Minho was a flirt. That’s all it was. He flirted with everyone. He was friendly with everyone. What made you think his treatment towards you was special? How foolish of you.

This would all be over in the morning. This will all be forgotten the next day. This is nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You wanted to scream, but that would mean waking the male beside you, and you didn’t want that just yet. Your palpitating heart made it even harder to think straight as your eyes remained glued to the sleeping figure in front of you. Minho’s arms were snugly wrapped around you, his little snores tickling the skin of your nose. This was just a dream, perhaps.

But when you feel Minho’s arms tightening around you, you’re 100% convinced this was happening. “Minho.” you whisper-shout, “Lee Minho!”

Minho groans, mumbling something about sleeping for a few more minutes. Then, he goes back to snoring softly, which of course, prompts you to roll your eyes in desperation. Without much choice, you fling his arm away from your waist, violently wiggling away from his hold. Surprisingly, the male doesn’t wake, still snoring soundly. Perhaps, him being drunk last night was a blessing is disguise.

Now that you’ve gotten out of bed, you straighten your clothes and tame your unruly hair before tip-toeing to the kitchen. You prepare a cup of hot tea, but as you wait for the tea bag to get soaked, your eyes blankly stare into nothing as if you were in a trance. Did you really just sleep beside Lee Minho? Did you really just wake up in his arms?

Wishful thinking, wishful thinking – those thoughts clouded your head and swatted away any fantastic ideas you could have brewed in your imaginative mind.

By the time you return to your room with two mugs in your hands, Minho is already awake, yawning as he runs his fingers through his bed-ridden hair. His voice is husky and laced with sleep as he greets you, “Morning, y/n.”

You gulp, taking careful steps towards your bed. “Are you feeling dizzy? You were drunk last night.” you quietly ask.

Minho half-nods, half shakes his head with a sheepish grin, “Just a bit I guess.”

You nod, placing the mugs on the bedside table. With a delicate voice, you quietly say, “I don’t know about hangover cures, but I made tea just in case.”

Minho offers you a sleepy smile, filled with the warmth and brightness nonetheless, “That’s fine, thank you, y/n.”

You nod before smiling ambiguously, slowly sitting beside him on the edge of the bed. A heavy silence fills the room, neither of you speaking to each other, much less even sparing a glance. You seem to focus on the cute patterns on your slippers while Minho plays with the blanket that covers his legs. In the end, you resolve to just leave your room, refusing to let the dreary emotions engulf you. As you prepare to leave your bed, you feel weighed down as a pair of arms snake around your waist. You instantly freeze, heart rising all the way up to your throat. You feel Minho’s head resting against your back, his hand gently patting your stomach.

You gulp and let out the most awkward chuckle in existence, “Um, Minho? Please let go of me.”

“No.” he muffles.

“Excuse me?” you twist your body to face him.

Minho lifts his head away from your back only to smirk, “I don’t want to.”

“Minho, I’m sorry, but what?” you say in disbelief.

He shakes his head, “I don’t want to let go.”

“Minho, please.”

“Y/n, please.” he teases.

Soon, he’s shifting around and pulling you down with him. Just as his hand is about to reach out to caress your cheek, you swat it away. The action surprises him, his sleep-filled eyes suddenly wide with caution. He blinks a few times, trying to fathom your sudden aggression. You stubbornly refuse to look into his eyes, opting to stare at his chest instead. Minho lets out a deep breath before unwrapping his arms from your waist. Instead, he gives your arm gentle caresses in hopes to appease you, but all it does is make things harder. You clench your jaw and do your best to steel your heart, but alas, to no avail. “Y/n?” he lowly whispers.

Suddenly, talking to Minho was harder than it usually was. Suddenly, you felt like you were bottled up and suffocating with all these unspoken words and feelings. Suddenly, you felt like your world was slowly collapsing. “Please stop it, Minho.” you mutter, voice evidently fragile and on the verge of breaking.

Minho shifts closer, voice hushed as he asks, “What do you mean?”

You finally crumble, tears artfully streaming down your cheeks. It takes you a moment to catch yourself, sniffing every so often as the glassiness in your eyes refuses to cease. You bite your bottom lip, shaking your head vigorously, “Stop looking at me like that, Minho. Stop treating me like this. Stop making me feel like I’m special to you. Stop making think you actually like me; that you actually love me.”

You knew deep down that those words were basically senseless – weird. Why would you blame Minho for the hurt? He didn’t do anything wrong; it’s your fault for falling for him. It was on your account. It was you who harbored feelings. It was all your choice, so why ask him to stop when it should have been you?

“Why would I stop if it’s actually true, y/n?”

The words came out quiet, Minho’s voice lower than usual. You sigh, “Minho – ”

The male cuts you off, gently tilting your chin so that he could look you straight in the eye. With the softest smile you’ve ever seen to grace his lips and eyes that twinkled like no other, Minho whispers, “Do you really think the way I act towards you is all fake? Just because? Y/n, you’re denser than I thought.”

“I’m sorry?”

Minho chuckles airily, “Y/n, I did all that – still do all that – because I really do like you. I treat you like you’re special because you are. All of those actions, and all of those feelings are real.”

You blink your tears away, still trying to wrap your mind around Minho’s genuine words. He winks after a while, “I remembered what I was going to ask you.”

You felt your nerves sparking with uneasiness as you shakily whisper, “What?” Your throat goes dry as your heart threatens to leap out of its place as you wait for Minho’s response.

“Y/n, would you like to go out with me?” Minho grins, “And I don’t just mean ‘let’s go out to buy ice cream’ kind of go out. I literally mean go out with me, y/n. Go out on dates, holds hands, say ‘I love you’, kiss each other.”

“Is this for real?” you stutter, heart racing and hands shaking, “Are you not joking around with me?”

Without hesitation, Minho wraps his arms around you once again, pulling you even closer. The warmth that spreads across your skin as your bodies press together washes you with a sense of comfort you’ve never felt before, and you find yourself repressing a giddy smile. Minho leans his forehead against yours, giving your waist a gentle squeeze, “Yes, y/n. I may joke around and mess with people a lot, but I am serious as hell right now. I was meaning to ask you that when we went to get ice cream, but I chickened out ‘cause I thought you didn’t want to. And when I called you at the party last night? I was also going to ask you that, but I thought it would be a dick move on my part if I asked you out in such a situation.”

“Minho,” you begin, “I’m honestly at a loss for words.”

He chuckles, “Trust me, y/n. I’ve been dying to ask you out – to tell you how I really feel – for quite a while already.”

You nod, “I know. So did I; so much that it actually hurt to think about it.”

“So…I’m guessing I’m that ‘he’ you were talking about on the phone last night?” Minho smirks, prompting you to laugh.

“If the shoe fits, Minho.” you tease.

He chuckles, lips curling into that smile you’ve come to love, “Well then. I guess I should make up for all the times I gave you this so called ‘heartache’.”

You tilt your head to the side, only for Minho to continue, “I swear to make you the happiest person ever, y/n, so if you’ll let me, please let me be the one who makes you happy. Let me be the one who catches you when you’re down. Let me be the one you can run to no matter what. Let me be the one you can be yourself with. Let me be the one to love you.”

You nod, closing your eyes in bliss as you offer Minho a gentle smile, “I can’t imagine anyone but you doing that, Minho. Absolutely no one.”

With a goofy chuckle, Minho hugs you tighter as you giggle against his chest, arms coiling around his neck in response. He places gentle kisses all over your face before landing a quick peck on your lips. You stare at him with pleasant surprise, melting when he stares back. “I should probably make breakfast or something.” you laugh, untangling yourself from the male beside you.

Minho laughs, pulling you back under the sheets in an instant as he locks his arms around you once again, “That can wait. Just stay here a little longer. My head feels like it’s splitting and two.”

“It’s your hangover, weirdo.” you playfully click your tongue, “It’s what you get for getting yourself drunk last night.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, placing a kiss on top of your head, “So you should cuddle me to make it better then.”

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, laughing in amusement. Minho hums to himself before placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His thumb caresses your skin, and with a smile of pure fondness, Minho whispers, “I love you, y/n.”

Perhaps it wasn’t wishful thinking after all. You breathe in his scent, smiling against the skin of his neck as you listen to his steady heartbeat, “I love you too.”

274 notes · View notes

animefan-overran · 4 years

Text

Birthday Surprise (Twinleafshipping)

****PART 4 (RATING: CUTE/FLUFF)****

MEANWHILE

“Hey, Dawn. Long time no see. Even though we can’t see each other because we’re talking on the phone and all haha… ugh no that sounds even dumber than the last line!” Barry spoke to himself whilst urgently pacing back and forth in front of his phone. It was only yesterday that he had gone fishing with his good friend Lucas, and ever since then, their conversation has saturated his mind.

“You’re gonna be 18 soon for crying out loud. You’re gonna have to man up sometime...” Lucas’s words echoed in Barry’s mind, making him cringe.

Ugh, I hate it when he’s right. I do need to tell Dawn how I feel at some point, but I don’t even know how to start out the conversation, let alone what I would even say when it comes to how I feel. Her smile ties my tongue, her humor pounds my heart, and her laugh sends chills down my spine… She makes me nervous, and yet I still want her to be all mine.

Barry shook his head clear, as he reached for the phone. “Ok, I’m thinking way too much. I just got to do it.”

With each dialed number, Barry’s fingers struggled more and more. He couldn’t believe his actions. Where in the world did this nerve come from? It’s like some kind of secret urge woke up inside of him, and he needed to satisfy it- he needed to tell Dawn the truth of his feelings.

His thoughts raced as the first ring fell silent. Oh boy, I’m actually doing this…

‘RINNNNGGG,; The second ring came and went, still no one. Maybe no one is home right now… Barry silently hoped. Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the line.

“Johanna speaking, who might I be talking to?” Dawn’s mom answered.

In response, Barry seemed to freeze in fear. He totally forgot about the option of her mom answering the phone. “Uh hi, this is Barry,” he managed to croak out. “Uh, I would like to talk with Dawn. Is she home by any chance?”

For only a moment, there was a slight pause on the other end, before he heard a slight giggle, and an answer “Yeah, she’s home. Let me get her for you…”

********

Dawn grinned “You have yourself a deal!”

Just as Dawn and Ash had finished shaking hands, the front door of the house opened revealing Johanna. “Oh hi Ash and Pikachu! It’s nice to see you again. Your mom told me you might be coming by Sinnoh.” Johanna greeted.

Ash and Pikchu smiled in return “Yeah,” Ash took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. “Pikachu and I wanted to do some special training before we head off to the next region, and we thought Sinnoh would be a great fit.”

“That’s great! Actually, I was planning on making some lemonade pretty soon. You and Pikachu should come inside for a glass, before you go and train.” Johanna offered.

“That sounds awesome, doesn’t it buddy?” Ash turned his head to ask Pikachu, who was already squealing with excitement.

“Cool! C’mon inside then. You know the drill, take your shoes off at the door.” Johanna explained, holding the door open for everyone to come inside. Being as discreet as possible, she pulled her daughter aside “Oh, and Dawn.” she whispered “There's a certain blonde waiting to talk to you on the phone. If I were you, I would act normal.” she encouraged patting Dawn on the shoulder.

Dawn’s heart skipped a beat. “What? You actually told him I was home? Sometimes I hate it when you tell the truth.” she whined. “Ugh, but I get it.”

Dawn sped over to the phone. She was unsure of what had gotten into her, but she needed to be on the other end of the line. A terrified curiosity had overtaken, her strides getting larger with each step. She tried not to think about how the next 5-10 minutes of her life would play out. Ugh, what if I slip, and end up saying something wrong? What if he tells me how he feels, what will I say then? she could feel the deep blush on her cheeks, as she finally reached the phone, slightly putting it up to her ear.

Dawn quietly breathed out one last time in an attempt to get rid of any last minute butterfrees that might have built up in her stomach. As much as she wanted to hear what Barry had to say, she equally wanted to be 6 feet underground, away from everyone. Ok, if Barry has the guts to call me, then I should have the guts to see what he has to say. With that thought, she found the courage to speak “Hey, Barry. What’s up” Dawn asked politely.

“Oh, not much,” Barry started “I just wanted to see if you could hang out sometime in the next couple of days. I thought it’s been a while since we spent time together, and I wanted to do it before my birthday party this weekend.” Barry explained.

Dawn held her breath in anticipation, contemplating on how to respond. Yes, of course she wanted to hang out with Barry, but she already had plans to give him his present during that time. Just as she found herself at a loss for words, her brain hatched a brilliant plan. “Yeah, actually. I would love to hang out with you. It’s Sunday now right? How about we hang out Wednesday? Come by my place at around noon? ” Dawn suggested.

A slightly audible sigh of relief could be heard on Barry’s end, which only made Dawn’s smile widen. “That sounds good,” Barry said. “See you then!”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dawn said as she hung up the phone.

Oh my God, what just happened? Dawn tried to suppress her snowballing thoughts as she sauntered to the kitchen table. She took a seat next to Ash, who was busy working on his third glass of lemonade.

“So, was that who I think it was?” Ash asked, wiping his mouth dry. Dawn’s quiet demeanor and lack of response gave her away instantly. Ash continued. “Ok, so how did it go then?”

Dawn face palmed to hide her ever growing blush “I don’t know. We set plans to hang out Wednesday,” Dawn explained whilst pouring herself a glass of lemonade. “ But I didn’t tell him that I arranged a scavenger hunt for him. Now, I’m going to be scrambling for time as Wednesday reaches closer. Everything needs to be in order for this to work out. This is all so stressful!” Dawn put her head down on the table. “Oh, and Ash.” she looked up to look him in the eyes “I also found out… I really like the idea of me and Barry being more than friends… I really don’t know what to do.”

Ash saw the confusion in Dawn’s eyes. He gave a knowing look to Pikachu who only nodded in return. “Dawn, it looks like you need some really good friends right about now. So, me and Pikachu are willing to forgo training in order to help you figure out every end of this. We want things to work out for you.”

A glimmer of hope flashed in Dawn’s eyes, and strength found its way back into her body, as she stood up from her seat. “Wow, Ash. You would really do that? Thank you. I mean, I have some ideas of what I want to do, but there are still so many things up in the air.”

“Yeah, of course! And don’t worry,” Ash smirked smugly “I also have some ideas of what you could do,”

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starstaiined · 4 years

Text

Would You Lie With Me & Just Forget The World?

Chapter 2

SUMMARY: The world is a dangerous place. It can be big, scary, and almost overwhelmingly dark. But despite all the negative aspects, despite all the pain and turmoil, Katherine Howard has always found a brief reprieve in the other queens. Particularly, in her older cousin. (And as loathe as they are to admit it, the other queens have to agree with her.) Anne Boleyn can be chaotic, wild, and reckless … but she’s also passionate, kind, and effervescent. Her boundless energy acts as a barrier against the bad in the world. But when that barrier breaks and the world turns on its head, can Kat manage to navigate the turbulent waters without her cousin by her side?

CHAPTER ONE //

TW: Implied abuse/neglect, Implied sexual abuse, Panic Attack, Car crash

A/N: sorry this chapter took so long! I ended up having to trim parts out and it isn’t as smooth as I was hoping for, but this is one of the rougher chapters to set up because of all the background. (I’m setting this in my own AU verse/idea that I’m still writing up the lore for, if anyone wants to hmu for that feel free!)

TAGGING: @the10amongstthese3s @radcowboyalmondtree @tonight-we-are-live @the-queen-bee-is-here @everything-insanity @whoufflewhovian200311 (if you want to be added, just reply to this post, send me an ask, or hit up my ims! these are the people I know who were interested!)

“Annie, I’m scared.”

Anne froze, the almost inaudible admission tugging at her heart. She climbed down from the garage roof as easily as she’d climbed up. “You don’t need to be scared, Kit. I’ve got you, okay? Just trust me.” Anne smiled mischievously, shooting her brightest gap toothed grin at her cousin.

Kitty visibly relaxed, and Anne showed Kitty how to use the materials lining the side of the building to get to the top. (After it, it wasn’t more than a few feet in the air.) But as ordinary as the view may have been, it was extraordinary because they were there together.

Anne dropped to book bag she’d brought with her, unrolling the blanket and wrapping it around Kat’s shoulders. “Can’t let the birthday girl get too cold now, can I?” She asked with a teasing grin. She reached into the bookbag, unaware of the surprise on her cousin’s face. She handed Kat some silly plushie she picked up at the store, and a (terribly smashed) attempt at a cupcake.

“You...you remembered?” Kat asked, looking down at the presents her cousin gave her as if they were the greatest thing in the world. The genuine shock in her voice startled Anne.

“Of course I did Kit...why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday your favorite cousin turns seven, after all.”

“Dad and the boys sometimes forget...” Kitty attempted to appear nonchalant, although it was obvious she was upset.

“They do what?” Anne growled, and Kitty flinched away at the change in her voice. Not now, Anne chided herself, using every ounce of teenage self restraint she had in order to plaster on the cheesiest grin she could muster. “I’m sure they’re just...planning a surprise or something.”

“Maybe.” Kat mumbled, but it was clear she didn’t believe it.

They sat in silence, before Anne’s lips curved back into their usual grin. She nudged her younger cousin. “Why don’t you spend the night? We can play board games and watch movies. I’ll even let you-oh.”

She’d been cut off mid sentence by a hug, and found Katherine peering up at her. “You’re the bestest, Annie! I love you.” The younger girl’s face shone with excitement that hadn’t been there moments earlier.

Anne couldn’t help but mirror that joy. She ruffled Kit’s hair, laughing at the expression it produced. “I love you too, Kit. And I’m here for you. Always.”

But their short moment was cut short as her father’s voice echoed up from the ground down below. “ANNE BOLEYN, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW! THE LAST THING WE NEED IS YOUR POOR HABITS RUBBING OFF ON LITTLE KATHER-”

And with that, Anne woke with a start. She damn near fell off her bed with a yell, catching herself last minute and blinking sleep out of her eyes. The other side of the bed was empty. Thank god. It meant Kat had slept with Jane instead, and she hadn’t accidently interrupted what little sleep the girl managed to get. Anne flopped back down on her bed with a sigh. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, energy buzzing in her exhausted muscles demanding that she get moving. She glanced at the alarm clock. 6:03 A.M.

Well, that was as good a time as any to start the day, wasn’t it? She rolled out of bed, quietly, and made her way to the bathroom. She ran through her usual morning routines : brushing her teeth, throwing her hair up in a tight bun, changing out of her pajamas and into running gear. By six thirty, she was ready to run. With her headphones fixed firmly in her ears and music blasting, she let her muscles guide her. The song playing pulled up another memory, a little fuzzy around the edges but still soft enough to pull a smile from her.

Family Christmas parties, everybody’s favorite time. Except not really. Anne dealt with it as best she could, which was ignoring damn near everyone and doing her own thing. She was choreographing a dance routine to a song that had just come out, earbuds in and focus completely on the movement of each muscle in time with the beat. Which is why she didn’t notice George until it was too late. He slammed into her side roughly, knocking her off her feet and sending her sliding across the floor. Anne stared slack jawed for a moment, recovering her breath, before yelling “What the fuck George!”

“Careful Ninon, don’t let dear old dad hear you using that language.” George answered with a smirk, towering over her. The gleam in his eyes made it clear he was in one of his moods, which meant Anne was in for it. If there was one thing George excelled at, it was pushing her buttons.

“Why don’t you go bother Mary for once?”

“Because Mary’s actually socializing with the family, unlike you.”

“Sorry, not sorry, but I’m trying to have fun. I’m not interested in being judged for stupid reasons, okay? I just want to be left alone.”

“Don’t want to be judged, don’t give them reasons to judge you. It’s simple, really.” George answered with a shrug. “Besides, considering your …. reputation I don’t think they’re stupid reas-”

“I don’t really care about your opinion, George.” Anne snapped, face immediately heating up. She pushed herself to her feet, taking a couple steps away from him. “Maybe you should shut up.”

“Maybe you should stop being such a sl-” He didn’t get to finish that thought as a pink blur knocked into his legs. It caught him off guard; he flailed his arms wildly to no avail and ended up tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass. Anne blinked in surprise. George pushed himself to his feet quickly, visibly seething. “What the fuck!”

Ten year old Katherine Howard, about two feet shorter and at least a hundred pounds lighter, didn’t break eye contact with George from where she’d positioned herself; she stood directly in front of Anne as if she were a human shield. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” She deadpanned.

“Brat.” George hissed, pointing a finger at the young girl menacingly.

Kat just shrugged, but she could feel her hands trembling. “Takes one to know one, right?”

Anne laughed, making her brother’s face flush six different shades of red. George, thoroughly humiliated and beyond angry, stormed off. Almost immediately Kat’s shoulders deflated. Anne pulled her younger cousin into a side hug. “KitKat, you are my hero.”

“We’re family.” Kat answered back, her voice muffled by Anne’s shoulder. “We always protect each other, don’t we?”

Anne smiled. “We do.”

The memory faded. The burning in her muscles, and the unfamiliarity in her surroundings, made it clear she’d gotten lost in her head longer than she’d meant to. Crap. It took her nearly an hour to find her way back. She made a beeline straight for the fridge once she did. She gave the calendar a quick glance as she opened the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice, before doing a double take.

November 4th. Kitty’s birthday was less than a week away! How in the hell had that happened? Anne was usually on top of these things, but between the interviews and the show and her work on choreo...she could feel guilt flooding her system. Shit. She wracked her brain, trying to remember whether or not Kitty had been acting strange recently. She’d seemed a little lethargic but Anne had chalked that up to being overworked with the show…

She didn’t think twice. She rushed up to Cleves room, flinging the door open in a panic as she shook the other girl. “Anna!” She hissed, voice low but pressing. “Anna, wake up!”

“Anne…?” Anna asked groggily. “What time is it…”

“It’s eight.”

“What are you doing up? We didn’t go to bed until almost tw-”

“Shh, that doesn’t matter right now. I’m going to the store. Do you want to come?”

Anne’s voice brimmed with urgency, but Anna was too tired to register it. She buried herself deeper into her blankets. “With your driving? No thank you, Miss Boleyn, I choose life.” She waved a hand dismissively, eyes never so much as cracking open. The warmth of her bed was too enticing.

Anne heaved a sigh, but accepted Anna’s answer. She ran to the kitchen, scribbled a quick note on a post it, and attached it to the fridge.

Need to run some errands. Urgent. Be back later. XO, Anne.

And with that she disappeared through the door, the orange juice still sitting forgotten on the counter.

The shopping went quickly. Or well, as quickly as it could go when Anne Boleyn was involved. She spent hours loading her cart with Kitty’s favorite snacks and movies, picked up random little knick knacks that she thought Kitty might like. (Hell, she even managed to find some cute presents for the rest of the queens.) Brimming with excitement about her haul, and eager to show it to the others, Anne was in a phenomenal mood when she hopped back in the car. She was jamming along to every song coming over the radio, grinning from ear to ear.

The buzzing of her phone on the seat next to her snapped Anne out of her private karaoke concert. It was probably just Kat calling to check up on her. She could feel warmth spreading through her chest as she let out a breathless giggle, turning down the music and running a quick hand through her hair. She found Kitty’s worry endearing, although she half wished Kitty would realize that Anne would be fine. After all, she always was.

She half debated it letting it ring to voicemail, just until she could answer without taking her hands off the wheel. That was….until the name on the caller ID caught her attention.

THOMAS HOWARD.

Suddenly, all the mirth she’d felt drained out of her like air out of a popped balloon. She hadn’t spoken to her uncle in YEARS. The last time she’d seen him was the day that she had left, Kitty tucked under one arm and spare clothes under the other. He made good on his promise to ostracize both of them.

Kitty’s head is buried in the crook of her neck, tears staining the collar of her shirt. “I’m sorry,” Kitty chokes out between sobs, barely comprehensible. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Anne, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

Anne could feel a storm building beneath her skin, aching to break free and wreck every single person that had driven her cousin to this. SHE WAS A CHILD! But over the last few years, Anne had watched the light drain from her eyes. She was just kicking herself for not realizing what was going on earlier… But she can’t focus on that. Not right now. Instead she rubs soothing circles on Katherine’s back, rocking the girl back and forth. “It isn’t your fault, Kit.” Emotion rubbed her voice raw, and it takes everything in her not to cry. “None of it is. Not a damn thing. Do you hear me? Not a single damn thing.”

If anything, that just seems to make Kat cry harder. “It is, it is Annie. I know it, and he knew it, and, and, and everyone knows it.” She’s cut off by a sob that shakes her frail shoulders. “He knew it, he said it, he-”

“He’s a piece of shit, Kit! I’m sorry, but it’s true. Your dad sucks. I wish it weren’t true, I wish you could’ve had the life you deserve. Somewhere far away from this bullshit.” Anne croaked out, a few silent tears falling as she fought to maintain a steady voice. “But you didn’t get that, instead life gave you a crappy hand and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. But I can promise you one thing.” Anne tucked Kitty’s head under her chin. “I know it isn’t much, but I’m here for you. Always. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m right here. And I’m always going to be right here, okay?”

With a few sniffling breaths, Kitty nodded. Slowly, hesitantly, she held out a hand with her pinkie extended. In a small voice, she asked, “Pinkie promise?”

Anne was all too happy to link their fingers. “Pinkie promise.”

They made themselves more comfortable in the living room, still a tangle of limbs but this time a tangle of limbs under a blanket. Before drifting off to sleep, Kitty squeezed Anne’s hand. “Annie?” She asked, drowsily.

“Hm?”

“Earlier...earlier you said that you weren’t much...but you are. Okay? You’re the best. And I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Anne squeezed her hand gently three times. I love you. “Don’t worry KitKat, you’ll never have to find out.”

Anne’s thoughts flashed to every time since then that Kitty’s tears staining the collar of her shirt, to the way the poor girl had trembled from nightmares that stole her breath. She remembered rushing out on errands like this, doing anything and everything to pull a smile out of her cousin, who spent the week leading up to her birthday WISHING for that call from the rest of the family. Thomas Howard failed as a father consistently over the past two years, and there’s almost no one Anne hates more. (When she thinks of him, all she can see is Kat trembling, crying out my fault, my fault, my fault. Just thinking about it makes her jaw clench.) Even now, in what she assumes is an attempt to make amends, he was calling her and not Kitty!

She reached over, answering it swiftly and bringing it to her ear. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear what you have to say, I need you to shut the hell up for two seconds and listen to me, Thomas.” Anger boiled in her veins and sharpened her tongue, but blurred everything else. In the haze of her own hatred, her focus on the phone pressed to her ear, she missed the truck that was swerving on a path directly towards her.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #beheaded cousins #anne boleyn #katherine howard #Would You Just Lay Here?#<-- it has a tag now!#THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE honestly its what keeps me writing sometimes #i'm already working on the next few chapters #don't worry #BUT YEAH LOTS OF PAIN IN STORE but what can you expect from a grey's anatomy inspired fic?#okay im done rambling im gonna go to sleep

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ariddletobesolved · 4 years

Text

Coming of Age

Fandom: Frozen

Word count: 2,370

Summary: As Prince Hans turned twenty one, numerous thoughts about how his future would be began to swirl in. Being a Prince has its perks, but would that be enough?

Sometimes, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles couldn't believe his luck. He might be the youngest of thirteen sons, but never once did he encounter such thing as bad luck. Okay, perhaps never is a strong word, because he could recall at least three unfortunate experiences in the past, and the day he broke his left arm during a sparring with one of his brothers was one. But overall, with whatever life threw at him so far, he considered himself lucky, grateful, and blessed—you name it. Not so many children are blessed with a caring and loving family, he thought.

King Ruben and Queen Vivianna, the reigning monarchs of the Southern Isles, are both great rulers and wise parents. Raising thirteen sons was never easy, yet they were considered as succeed in doing so. The princes were given equal treatment, and they all were taught about respect, the value of hard works, and many other qualities. Perhaps that, as well as their known kindness and wisdom, was why the people adored the royal family even more.

Dismounting from his stallion, Sitron, he glanced at the view before him. The cape near the palace was one of his favourite places, and he often came there just to think or to escape from a private tutor. Not that he didn't enjoy all the tutoring, but one of his brothers, Njal, told him that it's okay to skip lessons once in a while. And instantly, Hans got the bitter aftertaste for following an advice from the troublemaker among the thirteen.

'It's quiet today, isn't it, Sitron?' He gently stroked the horse's nose, as the stallion nuzzled him, as if he was agreeing with his master's words.

Hans let out a sigh, green eyes were gazing at the open ocean. A small smile played on his lips. Sometimes, the serenity was all he needed, especially after all the commotion he had to go through that morning. It seemed as if people around him: his parents, his brothers, even the servants and the commoners he bumped into, were more excited in celebrating what's supposed to be his day.

What's so special about turning twenty one?

The question had been lingering for a while, ever since her mother, Queen Vivianna, announced that there would be a huge ball in celebration of his birthday. He did utter his complains, saying that there's no need to invite other Kingdoms to attend for it's just a birthday celebration, yet the queen disagreed.

'Actually, Hans, darling, you are the last one of my sons that is coming of age. Do you really think I'm going to let it be just another celebration?'

And he knew better than arguing with his dear mother.

'Being a prince is something, Sitron.' He began. 'You probably don't understand, but being the youngest, I sometimes feel like my life is going in no direction.'

It was true. He could think of many things he could grow up to be, when he was young. Having seen some of his brothers joining the navy or the army, while some others were marrying to the throne somewhere, Hans knew that his time would come soon, when he should marry either a princess or a duchess of Somewhere Far. Gustav and Rorik were right, coming of age can be terrifying.

Unlike Lars, who had an avid interest in History, or Jensen, who was known for his talent in music, Hans was something else. He loved the sea, the feeling of the salty breeze against his face, as well as sketching and writing. At times, he found himself drawing people—characters, while also adding some backstory to it. Needless to say, it was a therapeutic experience for him.

'I knew I'd find you here.' He heard that familiar voice, followed by footsteps.

'Jorgen.' Hans spoke, as he turned to see one of his older brothers. 'Are you here to say happy birthday, like everyone else?'

'Is that how you greet the brother you haven't seen in three months?'

Prince Jorgen of the Southern Isles was a tall, lanky man, with red hair, hazel eyes, and a perfectly angled nose—a trait that every Westergaard Princes seemed to possess. His hair was trimmed neatly, the style was almost similar to that of his youngest brother. He approached his little brother, with his horse trailing behind.

'Sorry,' Hans smiled, patting his brother's back. 'How is married life?'

'Wonderful!' Jorgen beamed. 'And soon you will have a taste, little brother.'

Hans scoffed. 'Nah, my turn will come after the twins got married, and judging from the slow courting they are doing with their significant others, it would take years. For now, I want to enjoy my freedom, maybe joining the navy for good.'

'And you think Mother will let you go to the sea?' Jorgen raised a brow, eyeing his brother. 'If anything, she will try to keep you on the land, to marry first. Oh, I heard she has invited princesses from our neighbouring Kingdoms.'

Hans still had his gaze on the horizon, where the sky meets the see far away from where he was standing. Of course he knew this beforehand. His mother would find any opportunity to try playing matchmaking with some princesses he had no interest in. Not that he disliked those girls, who would bat their eyelashes around him, but he simply disliked the idea of getting married so young. There were so many things he would love to do, figuring out his life purpose was one of them. And once you enter married life, there's no going back.

'She can do all she wants.' The youngest Prince muttered, before turning to his brother. 'But she can never stop me.'

Hans knew he was right—or not. By the time the king and queen proposed a toast for his birthday, and having all the guests' attention directed at him, he knew he couldn't escape his mother's plan for the night. Once the music began, Queen Vivianna practically dragged her son aside, and gesturing at a chestnut haired princess in a soft blue beige dress, who stood nearby on her own.

'Hans, that princess is the one I told you earlier.' His mother murmured closely. 'Ask her to dance.'

'But, Mother—' but before he could protest, the Queen sent him a stern look, definitely not giving him a choice. 'Fine.'

And so, he asked Princess Angelique of Hallstatt to dance, in which the Princess complied with pleasure. Though he'd scored himself a great dancing partner, it was still hard for him to enjoy the company, for Princess Angelique gave him dreamy looks that made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

'Oh, my little Hans is all grown up!' His mother's words from earlier echoed in his mind. 'Soon, you will find yourself a bride to marry and give me some adorable grandchildren.'

Hans almost grimaced at the thought. That would certainly need to wait. Once the music ended, Hans sighed in relief, before quickly excused himself and flashed the princess his most polite smile.

Taking a glass of champagne from the passing tray, he began to observe his surrounding, from his spot in the corner of the room. The guests seemed to enjoy themselves, dancing and talking—or gossiping, yet something seemed a little off. His brothers were nowhere in sight.

Where are they? He wondered quietly, finishing his drink with a big gulp. Just when he put down his empty glass on a tray carried by a footman, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He was already preparing a speech for whatever plan his mother had for him, but when he turned around, Hans was greeted by number eight, Prince Bjorn.

'I thought you're mother.'

Bjorn let out a chuckle. 'It seems like you're trying to avoid her.'

'Oh, please, she is planning something and I don't like it.' Hans stated. 'I mean, she pushed me to this princess' direction to dance with her. And the whole dance she was staring at me. I enjoy attention, but having someone staring at you like that, no thank you.'

'Like what?' Bjorn motioned him to follow. 'Like she's gonna eat you alive.'

Hans raised an eyebrow. 'Not really, but quite.' Falling in his brother's steps, he wondered out loud, 'Where are we going?'

'You'll see.'

Well, that didn't answer his question, but nonetheless, he still followed him, exiting the ballroom. As he walked down the deserted corridor, all he could hear was the faint music from the celebration, and the fountain that stood in the middle of the garden. They were making a slight turn in one of the corridors when they heard footsteps came approaching from the opposite direction. A man wearing a teal uniform emerged from the darkness, making Bjorn stopped abruptly.

'May I help you, Sir?' He asked the frantic looking man.

The man in the uniform nodded, 'Ah, yes. I would like to request an audience with the King and Queen of The Southern Isles.'

Hans eyed the strange man suspiciously. His green eyes were glaring at the teal coloured uniform, with a golden crocus medal attached to it. An audience with the monarchs? Is he out of his mind? It was clear that neither his mother nor father expected this man, who seemed to be a foreigner.

'I'm sorry, Sir, but there's a celebration going on. Whatever business you need to discuss with the King needs to wait until tomorrow.'

But the man was persistent. 'Please, Sir. I have a very urgent matter to discuss.' He began to pull out a sealed envelope from his leather bag. 'I'm from Arendelle, you see.'

Arendelle? Why would that kingdom send a messenger to the Southern Isles?

The two princes stole brief glances at each other, before eyeing the golden crocus seal upon the letter. Bjorn, who knew immediately that something was up, nodded at the man.

'Follow this long corridor, then turn left. There, you will meet Henrik, a Royal Advisor. Tell him the urgency and ask for an audience with the King and Queen.'

'Thank you!' And with that, the man quickly walked away.

'Did Father invite a representative from Arendelle?' Hans asked his brother as they resumed their journey.

Bjorn frowned. 'Not as far as I know.'

'Well, if anyone from Arendelle is stepping on our soil, it means that they are facing a huge problem.' Hans muttered.

'Or it could be completely something else.' Bjorn added, before tapping his brother's back. 'Let's not think about it. It's your birthday.'

Once the brothers stepped out of the gates, Hans knew where they were heading. The docks. He was sure of it, as he breathed in the familiar salty scent of the ocean. And a few moments later, in the most secluded side of the harbour, stood eleven silhouettes.

'Little brother,' a tall brunet greeted with a rather wrinkly smile. From the feature, everyone could tell that he's the oldest. 'We were worried that you would get lost.'

'Don't call me that, Stefan.' Hans said, before breaking into a smile. 'As for the delay, sorry, we were bumping into an Arendellian on our way here.'

'So that's why the Arendelle flagship is in our harbour.' Jensen, number two, murmured more to himself, before turning to Bjorn. 'Strange, don't you think?'

'I suppose,' Bjorn nodded, 'but don't let it stop us from celebrating our brother's coming of age.'

'Hansy!' The youngest prince almost rolled his eyes at the nickname the twins gave him. 'Once again, happy birthday!' Marten and Mikael, number eleven and twelve, said in unison.

'Thanks, again.' Hans replied. 'You do know how to annoy me, don't you?'

'Oh, you wouldn't say that after you see what we got for you!' Karl, number six, came approaching, handing him a bottle of rum.

Confused, the number thirteen raised an eyebrow, as he glanced at his brothers one by one. Each was bearing what seemed to be an excited smile, and Hans couldn't remember the last time he saw his brothers acting this strange. 'What is it?'

A slight push on his back, urged him to take a step closer to the edge of the docks. He turned to see Oskar, number nine, giving him the gentle push. And right before him, Lars, Gustav, and Rorik were standing by, seemed ready to unveil something big—quite literally.

Nordstjernen

The word was the first thing he noticed. North Star. Then he realised what it was. A sail boat. A perfectly crafted one, majestic. It led to a conclusion: they knew about his love for sailing. He was only standing there, glued to the spot, as his green eyes slowly took in the view before him.

'Happy birthday, Hans!'

One by one, the brothers began to engulf the youngest into an embrace, and as much as the gesture annoyed him, he didn't mind. He was grateful that he had twelve big brothers who cared for him, and a set of wonderful parents. Here, surrounded by a family, at last. Hans knew that somewhere out there someone grew up in an abusive household under unfortunate circumstances. And for that reason was he feeling very fortunate for his life.

With Nordstejrnen, he could explore the waters in his Kingdom, maybe he could take his sketchbook along with him. And he would make sure that nobody could stop him from doing so, not even his mother. Being a prince has it's perks, he thought, and it will never be enough for me to not use this opportunity to the fullest. Besides, he had had his naval training, and it would surely help him.

Coming of age could be terrifying for some people. It might be full of unexpected events. But for the youngest prince, it would be one that's full of adventure.

Yes, Hans knows that turning twenty one means that his life is about to change. If he only knows what the future has in store for him.

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Note: This was originally written for Hans Week 2020, alas, only recently did I get to finish it. Also, this story may or may not be continued in Helsa Week 2.0. That's why some feedbacks and criticisms are very much welcome. Thanks for reading! X

Reposting because the first one didn’t show up in the tags.

#prince hans #hans #hans westergaard #fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #Mary's writing #coming of age #coming of age au

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