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zikariogirl · 1 year

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‘ 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 ’ — 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧-𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤

PART ONE, part two

summary ┆ as vincenzo’s sister, you were asked to help him out with a certain situation he was handling in korea — spying on a evil-corrupted CEO, who has no care for others. you were strategic, smart, and the best of the best. . .but who knew you would end up falling in love with a psychopath?

a/n ┆ this originally was gonna be a loooong one shot, but i think it’s too long that it’ll need a part two LMAO. also, there will be a lot of “switching languages” here because i feel like people who are bilingual/trilingual tend to switch from one language to other while they speak (i’m bilingual and do this myself lol), if that makes sense. kind of like han-seok, who goes from korean to english when he speaks!

warnings┆ slight mentions of gore and disturbing themes

key:

normal = english

italics = italian

bold = korean

“Would you like some water, ma’am?”

You shot the flight attendant a quick smile as you nodded your head and raised your empty glass cup, thanking her while she filled it up. Per your brother’s request, you were currently on your way to South Korea to provide some assistance on an unknown situation. Vincenzo was pretty vague over the phone and promised that he will explain everything when you get there, which was good enough for you. At least him teaching you Korean as the two of you grew up is definitely coming in handy now. There’s a few small words and phrases you still need to work on but you had a good understanding of it, and spending some time in Korea is definitely going to make you learn fast.

You missed him — a lot frankly. The two of you weren’t biologically related since you were both adopted. Don Fabio adopted you into the family when you were only six years old after your poor excuse of a father attempted to sell you off. He neglected you for years and constantly blamed you for being the reason why your mother passed away when you were born.

You took your revenge on him though. You made sure his death was slow and painful.

Vincenzo on the other hand was adopted into the family later down the line. The two of you grew extremely close and worked well together, unlike your relationship with Paolo. You were both ruthless with your work; making you guys earn the nickname I Diavoli Malvagi — The Wicked Devils. Although you were a part of the Cassano family first, Vincenzo somehow climbed up the ranks quickly and surpassed you to become Don Fabio’s right-hand man. You loved your brother, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment towards him, especially when the rest of the family sometimes disregarded you unless if you had Vincenzo around.

However, you quickly pushed those thoughts away as you began to land. Regardless on how you feel, he’s your brother who you cherish a lot — and probably the only person who genuinely cares about you. You called for a taxi and made your way to the location he sent you, Geumga Plaza.

Upon your arrival, you were greeted by the tenants of the building as they excitedly welcomed you into their home. They were suffocating — to say the least — but you were successful in pushing past them and storming inside the office where Vincenzo was located at.

The moment you slammed the door shut, three pairs of eyes landed on your heavily breathing form.

“Those people are like fucking leeches!” You cursed in Italian as you dropped your suitcase and bag.

Vincenzo moved swiftly as he shot up from his seat and made his way towards you, causing you to straight up face-plant into his chest as he pulled you in for a tight hug.

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed– ow!”

You didn’t let him finish since you proceeded to flick him on his ear, hard.

“I cannot breathe,” your voice was muffled against his chest so you tried your best to face the right, attempting to free the corner of your mouth, “and if you don’t let me go within the next three seconds, I will show everyone in this building that video I took of you passionately singing to ‘Umbrella’ by Rihanna.”

That man has never let you go so fast in your life.

You fixed your clothes and hair, then proceeded to pull him into a proper hug where neither of you were dying to catch some oxygen.

“I’ve missed you too asshole,” you smiled when you felt him chuckle before pulling away. “Now introduce me to your colleagues so we can get down to business.”

Vincenzo knew you didn’t like to waste time, so he swiftly introduced you to Miss Hong and Mr. Nam before the four of you sat down on a table to discuss the situation. Vincenzo started from the beginning. From the death of Miss Hong’s father, to Babel’s corrupt cases and evil acts, to him finding out that Miss Hong’s former intern is actually Jang Han-seok — the CEO and mastermind behind Babel. It was a lot of intel, and a bit confusing since you didn’t really see a point in fighting this fight. If anything, the whole thing sounds almost identical to how the mafia works back in Italy. Things are hardly personal, and it’s mostly just business unless if you cross somebody wrong. It sounds like this Han-seok guy is trying everything he can to be at the top, and eliminating anyone who gets in his way.

Yeah, sounds fairly similar.

You could honestly care less about corrupt politicians. Korea isn’t your home, neither is it Vincenzo’s, so you’re finding it really hard to understand why he’s doing this.

You didn’t mean to do it, but you interrupted Miss Hong in mid conversation as you held up a hand and looked at Vincenzo. “Tell her I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak to you alone.”

He knew something was up, so he translated your apology to Miss Hong who was kindly understanding. Both her and Mr. Nam excused themselves as they exited the office, leaving you and your brother alone at last.

You drummed your fingers against the table, giving him a side look with a raised eyebrow. “How much are they paying you?”

He blinked. “What?”

“How. Much. Are. They. Paying. You? This whole ‘saving the people’ thing isn’t you. This is a job cut out for the good people, for heroes, not for monsters like us. We’re no better than Babel, Wusang, and that Han-seok guy.”

“I never said I was a hero,” he let out a sigh as he leant back against his chair.

“It’s not your fight Vincenzo. So what if Babel wants to demolish this plaza? Let them! The tenants can always find another building to infest. You can put this behind you and come back with me to Italy because Paolo is such a–”

“There’s gold stashed away in this building.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Almost 886 million euros to be exact.”

Hold up. Rewind. Pause.

“E-Eight hundred…”

“Babel wants to demolish the plaza, which will then reveal the secret room where the gold is located. Miss Hong and I made an agreement. I help her destroy Babel, and in return, she will help me regain ownership of the plaza. You’re an incredible spy, so I want you to infiltrate them and get as much intel as you can. Once I gain access to the room, I’ll give you ten bars of gold. Each bar is worth about 58 thousand euros.”

That’s half a million euros.

You shot Vincenzo a wide smile while leaning forward on the table, resting your chin on the palm of your hands. “Where do we start?”

The plan was finally in motion. After finding the right people to tip off Ms. Choi, you received a phone call from her almost immediately. Due to the language barrier you both struggled to communicate properly — not really but you just needed her to take you to him. When she notified you that Han-seok wanted to see you, you couldn’t erase the devious smirk off your face as you agreed to meet him.

This man either trusts too easily or is heavily armed and prepared to kill you in case anything goes south. You were approaching his house while having two of his armed bodyguards escort you inside. The sound of your heels echoed off the walls, letting the four people inside know about your presence. The moment you stepped foot into the room, all eyes were on you, but there was one specific pair that matched the same iciness as your own.

“Miss Marino,” he greeted with a smile. “Please join us and sit.”

You sat down next to Ms. Choi, leaving your eyes trained on him. “I’m pretty familiar with the language,” you didn’t miss the way Ms. Choi looked at you, “I just sometimes prefer not to speak it.”

Han-seok cocked an eyebrow. “I see, well, first thing’s first, tell me about yourself,” he snapped his fingers towards one of the gentlemen, indicating him to fill up your empty wine glass.

While the middle aged man with glasses scurried to obey orders, you leant back on the couch while crossing your left leg over your right. “I’ll spare you all the depressing details about my past, but I’m a mercenary. Been one for five years. I work for nobody but myself. If you pay me fucking good, then I could care less about whatever task it is you give me. Only thing, I don’t harm children, so don’t expect to do any of that.”

He remained quiet but kept his gaze on you.

“Ms. Choi called me rather quick when I arrived to Seoul, so tell me, what does the CEO of a company want with a person like me? You plan on getting your hands dirty?”

“I always get my hands dirty when needed. I just need to know if you’re the right fit for this kind of job.”

“You think I’m not?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I find it hard to believe someone of your appearance is one of Italy’s top mercenaries.”

“How about you put your money where your mouth is?”

You were not liking his sexist attitude towards you. So what if you’re not some strong buff man? You’re perfectly capable of taking down anyone who dares to cross you. You don’t know how to explain it, but something in his features changed at your remark, and before you could even register what was about to happen, a pair of arms grabbed you from behind and slammed you into the floor.

This fucking prick! So he’s planning to test you? The air was knocked out of your lungs but you quickly regained your composure and rolled yourself back onto your feet. The man in front of you went in for a punch but you stopped his fist, twisted his arm, and proceeded to flip yourself in a hand stand position, your legs wrapping themselves around his neck as you tossed him down onto the floor. Everyone stood in shock as you pinned down your attacker’s arm and basically had him on a choke hold with your legs.

The sound of clapping behind you made your attacker tap out, and you quickly released him before standing up. You turned to face Han-seok, who looked fascinated as he loudly applauded you.

“WOOH!” His sudden burst caused everyone — but you — to flinch. “Oh my GOD!”

You picked up one of your shoes that was laying on the floor. “You owe me new heels,” you sighed in disappointment when you noticed the broken heel.

He made his way towards you, grabbing the heel from your hand and tossing it behind him. “You will get anything you want, plus more, if you join my team. You’re just PERFECT! A-MAZING! WOW!”

Does he usually have outbursts like these? He almost sounds possessed. Nonetheless, you smiled up at him, letting him know you were in all the way.

“When do I start?”

Then plan was working just as you and Vincenzo hoped it would. You’ve been getting a lot of intel on Babel — which has served a great help to him and Cha-young. Speaking of them, you’ve noticed a bit of chemistry going on between the two of them. You haven’t said anything but you’re not stupid nor blind to know that they both have some sort of feelings for each other.

It was almost adorable to you.

Another major update was Han-seok finally revealing himself as the actual chairman to the public. It was definitely a bit of a shock since he was so keen on keeping it a secret so Han-seo could take the fall for all of his problems regarding Babel. He surprisingly hasn’t ordered you to kill Vincenzo, if anything, he wants you to tease him in a way — to make him suffer and gain revenge as well. He basically wants you to grow even so Vincenzo is aware that they too have the power to take him down if they want to. Kind of a cocky move for him in whatever little game he’s playing with your brother.

Since you can’t make Babel or Wusang grow suspicious, both you and Vincenzo had to plan out certain situations to make it look like you almost beat him, or in smaller cases, you did. The two of you even went as far as to fake a fist fight. Both of you came out bruised and scratched up but were laughing like maniacs about the “fight” over tea.

But this encounter was also when you noticed some strange behavior coming from Han-seok. You had to report back to him like always, and the moment you stepped inside Mr. Han’s office, everyone froze at the sight of you.

“Wha…What happened?” Han-seo questioned as he ran to you. The young chairman took a hold of your hand and began to lead you to one of the couches.

You let him guide you while Mr. Han rushed to get you a glass of water. You stretched out your arms and leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a brief second before opening them again. “That bastard caught me by surprise. It’s like he knew I was going to be there. That figlio di puttana snuck up behind me but I was able to fight him off and get away.”

Everyone turned to look at Han-seok as they waited for him to translate the last part of your statement. Okay yeah, you can practically consider yourself fluent in Korean, but sometimes it’s fun watching them struggle to understand you. The silence that fell in the room told you that Han-seok remained quiet. He kept his hard gaze on you and didn’t even bother looking at his team as he spoke — wait no demanded — something to them.

“Get out.” His voice was rough and low, but you kept your eyes closed and could clearly hear everyone shuffling out the doorway, indicating that it was just you and the boss.

You heard him get up, and a few seconds passed before you heard the sound of a box clicking open. “If you’re thinking about torturing me, don’t even bother. I’m practically immune to that sh–”

You were instantly silenced when you felt his rough fingers grab your chin. Out of instinct, your right hand shot out and gripped his wrist, your nails digging into his skin but he showed no reaction to your move. Your eyes connected for just a brief second before he diverted his attention on your cut lip and bruised cheek. The feel of a wet cloth touching your skin was not foreign to you — but having someone else do it is. You remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt his focus, but you were also left speechless feeling his rough fingers hold your chin. You don’t know why, but being this close to him was making your heartbeat run wild, and that was definitely bad. You don’t know if it’s his beautiful brown eyes, the way his brows are furrowed to focus on your injuries, or the way he’s actually gentle and being careful in cleaning your wounds.

Why is he even doing this? He doesn’t gain anything from it.

You almost punched yourself in the face when you felt a wave of disappointment hit you when his hands were no longer touching you.

“Your lip was starting to bleed again and you were getting blood everywhere. Next time, don’t fail me. I would hate to get rid of you.”

And just like that, he stood up and turned his back on you. You felt stupid. What did you expect? Why would he clean you up and show any form of emotion towards you? What even made you think that?

You were definitely touch starved. Yes, that’s why. You haven’t had sex in a while, and you were probably really hormonal, which is why your body reacted the way it did. You swallowed the lump that was stuck in your throat and you quickly stood up, trying to think about what club to hit after this.

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

And with that you were off.

Your mind has been on a haywire ever since your weird feelings during that one specific encounter with Han-seok arose. You thought that the answer to all your problems would be sex, but the sad truth is, it definitely was not. It was a mere disappointment. At first you believed that maybe it was just the person, so you found somebody else the next day and slept with them as well. Same reaction, same feeling — it was terrible that you felt absolutely nothing. Maybe it was you? You’re not even sure what to think.

But you definitely don’t know what to think now because for some reason, Han-seok invited you out for a stroll around the park.

You were both currently eating ice cream — his treat — while talking about the plan and the progress that you’ve made. You basically bullshitted all your intel, but once Han-seok opened his mouth to ask you something, the two of you were approached by a guy around your age.

He kind of looks like..

“You’ve been ignoring my texts and calls.”

Oh shit. It’s your one night stand.

To be frank, you forgot his name, and you could care less to find out what it is. He looked like a mess and by the look on his face, he was clearly not happy when his eyes landed on Han-seok. “Who’s this?”

Before he could answer the guy, you cut Han-seok off. “How is that any of your business?” You retorted back to Mr. No Name.

“Because we’re seeing each other?”

You drily laughed. “I beg your pardon?”

His features fell at the tone of your voice. “Was I just a joke to you then? You… you approached me! You wanted me. We danced all night, had drinks, we had sex, and then you had an emergency so that’s why you gave me your number. I asked if we could see each other again and you said yes.”

He was putting you on the spot and you hated it. Who does this fucker think he is?

“Look buddy, there’s this thing called a one night stand. I don’t do any of that talking bullshit. I don’t do any dating. I fuck with no strings attached. To be fair with you, I was drunk and probably had no clue as to what I was saying to you that night. Lose my number though, will you?”

You paid no mind to him as you grabbed Han-seok’s hand and began to walk off.

“Your dick game is very disappointing by the way. I had to fake my orgasm.”

He caught you by surprise when you felt him yank your hair.

“You stupid bitch!”

You were about to grab him and make him beg for his life but Han-seok was faster. His eyes were dangerous as he tightly clutched onto the guy’s hand, who began to wince in pain while falling down to his knees.

“L-Let me go you fucker!”

“Shut up or I’ll snap your wrist right here, right now,” his voice was dripping with malice.

You had to stop him. You were in a public place where anyone could see what was going on. You stood up on your toes and placed your hand on his right shoulder. “Not here,” you whispered. “People will see.”

He immediately smiled at your words, already piecing together what you meant. “We can take him back to my place.”

You returned the same smile before bending down to be at eye level with the guy. You cupped his cheeks and slightly leaned in. “You’re gonna die.”

And die he did. His bloodied body was left in the bathroom as both you and Han-seok stood in the living room, wiping the blood off your hands. You got a little too carried away with Mr. No Name. The way he disrespected you by putting his hands on you without reason made your blood boil, and you lashed out in anger the moment the three of you made it behind closed doors. Who the fuck lays a hand on a person after being rejected? God was he an idiot.

You were too lost in your thoughts and too focused on wiping the blood off your neck to even notice Han-seok staring at you. You didn’t notice the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. The way his adams apple kept moving every time he swallowed as he gazed at your gorgeous face caked in blood. You were ethereal in his eyes right now. He used to think Cha-young was the perfect woman, but that all changed the moment he met you.

You peaked his interest that first night he met you. When you slammed one of his body guards down onto the floor with no issue. The way you’ve been slowly causing Vincenzo and Cha-young trouble. The way you briskly complete some side jobs he has for you in getting rid of certain people. You don’t question him and get the job done — just as you promised.

He really wants to kiss you right now.

He gave you zero time to react as he marched over to you and grabbed the back of your neck, slamming your lips together in a rough kiss. You felt your teeth clash with his and it fucking hurt. You pushed against his chest but he didn’t budge, so you decided to bite down hard on his lower lip.

He immediately stepped back, but his crazed eyes remained on you as he licked the blood off his lips. You on the other hand did not know what to say or do.

“What the fuck was that?!” You yelled.

He shrugged. “Just wanted…a taste.”

What’s even worse is you genuinely liked feeling his lips against yours.

Han-seok took a step closer to you and when he noticed you taking a step back, he proceeded to get closer. It’s like you were frozen, and all you could do was step away from him instead of walking out the door. He eventually caged you in, with his arms trapping you as you leaned back against the table.

“So,” he tilted his head and reached forward to trace the skin on your neck. “I have an offer.”

“What?” You were short with your answer, mostly because you wanted to get this conversation over with.

“Have sex with me.”

“What?”

“Just this once.” He leaned forward and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Seeing you go crazy. Staining yourself with blood. Fuck, that was so hot.”

His hot breathe tickled your skin and you immediately got goosebumps. You hated this, but a part of you liked being this close to him. To have his lips be so close to you. The heat of his body engulfing you. You wanted to push him down against the couch and ride him like there’s no tomorrow. You wanted to feel his hands all over your body, to have his mouth touch your most sensitive area, to have him fill you completely.

Wait, no. What the fuck was wrong with you? Alarms were going off in your head and you needed to leave now.

“I don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not having sex with you.”

You kept your tone cool and collective. You didn’t want him knowing what kind of reaction he was giving your body.

“Why not?” He pulled his head back to look down at you with a pout.

“Because I don’t fuck who I’m working for.”

“Hm, but you didn’t have a problem whoring around–”

SLAP.

That definitely caught him by surprise as he stepped back and held his burning left cheek. His eyes were wide with shock but he made no move to grab or hurt you.

You were livid, and all you could do was point at him. “Do not ever disrespect me like that. I don’t care who you are, but I will not stand for that type of bullshit talk. Unless I’m going to directly do a task for you or it’s something related to the case, don’t ever fucking talk or touch me again. Figlio di puttana.”

You turned around and stormed out of his place in a hurry, not wanting to be around him any longer. When you got back to the plaza and told Vincenzo, Cha-young, and Mr. Nam about what happened, it was an understatement that your brother wanted to march towards Babel and just kill Han-seok himself. You made sure to leave out the part of him asking you to have sex, but either way, Vincenzo was loudly cursing in Italian as he paced the office.

“Wait, this is a great idea!” You narrowed your eyes at Cha-young, who seemed eager to tell your brother something. She whispered something in his ear causing his eyes to widen, and you were sure you heard him whisper a ‘no’ to her.

“What did she say?” You were desperate to know.

Vincenzo gripped the edge of the table as his eyes met yours. You could tell he was tense, and you did not like it one bit.

“Cha-young wants you to seduce Han-seok, or at least make him fall for you. That way you’ll have a deeper connection and be able to manipulate him.”

“Fuck. No.”

He turned to look at Cha-young. “I told you she’ll say no.”

“Convince her. Please. This will definitely give us the upper hand, plus, wouldn’t it be fun seeing him grow desperate over her only to be betrayed in the end?”

“I am not having my little sister get close to that psychopath.”

“She has a point,” you turned to look at Mr. Nam since he began to speak. “Plus, she can take care of herself. I know for a fact she can kick his ass if she wants to.”

Cha-young turned to face you and unexpectedly threw her arms around your shoulders, causing you to scream. “Please!” She begged in English. “Pleaseeee.”

“Yes! Please!” Mr. Nam proceeded to hug you as well. They were so close to you and you shot Vincenzo a glare. He looked semi-apologetic but also very amused, but you were going to rain hell on your brother since he pulled out his phone and took a picture of your current situation — several actually.

If anything, they practically forced your hand, because they would not let you go unless if you agreed to their stupid, evil plan. Now, you angrily stomped out of the building and began to formulate a plan to get close to Han-seok, even though you told him to never talk to you unless if it’s about business.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the main reason why you refused to take part in this plan was because you were afraid of your own feelings towards Han-seok. After the kiss and having sexual fantasies — while he basically smelled your neck too — you’ve been a hot Han-seok mess. You were guilty of having wet dreams of him. You were also guilty of feeling your heart beat increase anytime he walked into the room. Surprisingly, he kept his distance. Maybe the slap you gave him knocked some sense into his brain and made him realize how much of a perverted idiot he was being. You should feel thankful he was respecting your wishes, but, all you felt was disappointment.

The more time you spent with him, the more dangerous it became for you. Task after task, meeting after meeting, you were essentially digging your own grave at this point. Its been months and you’re at a deep end, and it sucks that you don’t know who to go to for this. You can’t tell Vincenzo in fear of disappointing him, and you also didn’t want him to be disgusted by you. Even though you spend a lot of time with Cha-young and Mr. Nam, you don’t feel comfortable letting them know either. You obviously cannot spill any of this to Ms. Choi or Mr. Han, so that only leaves the one person you know is the worst choice.

Jang Han-seon.

Why him of all people? Maybe it’s because he fears Han-seok and you know he won’t say a word. Maybe it’s because he’s the kindest out of the group, so you automatically assume he can be easy to talk to.

Or you could bottle your feelings and thoughts instead of saying anything. But the more you bottled these emotions, the worse it gets. Maybe you should back down on the deal completely and move back to Italy.

But it’s half a million euros. Half a million. Never mind, you can do this! You just have to control your feelings and stop acting like a stupid rookie. You’re a fucking spy for the mafia, you’ve been doing this since you were sixteen! Why start to lack now? There’s nothing special about Han-seok. He’s a psychopath.

But he’s also a really handsome and fun guy.

No, you need to stop. You’ll rant to Han-seo and that’ll be the end of it. You paced around Babel in search of the younger Jang brother and was relieved to see him getting coffee by himself — no Han-seok in sight.

“Han-seo!”

He had a worried and confused look when he heard his name, but when his eyes landed on you, he smiled.

“Hey,” he greeted as he pointed towards the coffee machine. “Coffee?”

You shook your head and leaned back against the counter. “I need to tell you something but you cannot tell anyone, understand?”

His demeanor changed at your words on the secrecy of what you’re about to tell him but he quickly regained it as he nodded his head. “I understand. What is it?”

“I think I like Han-seok.”

And there goes his morning coffee. Han-seo practically spit out everything and he became a coughing mess, placing the mug down as he fanned himself.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” You cried out as you began to repeatedly pat his back.

“I…,” he coughed. “Napkin.” Cue another deadly cough.

You were quick to pass him a napkin and you took it upon yourself to clean and wipe down his tie. This poor man would not stop coughing, and it was even drawing the attention of certain employees who would walk by, but you paid no mind to them. You guided Han-seo to the nearest chair while still patting his back.

“Han-seo, are you okay?”

Cough. “I think.” Cough. “Damn.” Cough. “No.”

You placed your hands on both sides of his face to keep his attention on you. “Do you need CPR because I’m actually trained on it.”

He blushed at your words, and started to wave his hands frantically while still coughing out like a forty-year old man who smokes cigarettes every day. “N-No!” Cough. “I’m…okay.”

“What’s going on here?”

Now that was a voice that could make the two of you freeze. At the same time, you both slowly turned your heads, your eyes landing on Han-seok. He looked…different. And not in the wardrobe-look different, but his aura…and his face. Something was off about him.

Han-seo was the first to scurry out of his chair. He removed your hands from his face and quickly bowed, but not before letting out another ugly cough.

“S-Sorry sir!” Cough. “It’s,” cough, “nothing! I was actually,” cough, “about to leave.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Stop talking. You’ll make it worse.” You patted his chest and shot him a smile.

What you didn’t know was how terrified Han-seo was right now because nobody knows his brother better than him, and right now? He could tell his brother wants to kill him. He notices the way his jaw keeps clenching every time you touch him. He was surprised he didn’t storm up to him when he caught your hands on his face. You confessed your feelings for Han-seok to him, but judging by his brother’s character, does he reciprocate the same feelings?

He definitely does not want to stay and find out.

Han-seo excused himself and said goodbye to you before walking off. You rolled your eyes when you heard him cough again, but now that you’re alone with Han-seok, you want to leave too.

“Well bye!”

“I didn’t say you could leave.”

He stopped you from walking off. You pursed your lips and turned around to face him once again, keeping your eyes focused on the nearest wall. “Yes boss?”

“What were you doing with Han-seo?”

“What do you think I was doing?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Shut up and answer my question.”

You raised an eyebrow at his ugly tone. “If you’re worried that I was going to kiss your brother at work, you’re wrong. He almost choked on coffee so I was helping him regain his composure. Plus, I wouldn’t kiss him here. It’s too open and people are nosy.”

You didn’t bother to stay and listen to his reply, instead you waved him off as you walked away, not bothering to turn back. Sure you work for him, but that doesn’t give him the right to act like an asshole to you. If he tries anything, both you and Vincenzo will be on his ass for it. However, one thing you didn’t know was that you were going to be the reason why Han-seo will wake up with a black eye tomorrow.

It was another normal day and — much to your surprise — Han-seok announced that he will be hosting a small party at his house, full of important people of course. You were required to attend and the moment Cha-young found out about it, she made it her number one job to dress you up and buy you the best of the best.

“I want you to outshine all of those corrupted assholes.”

You smiled at her words and felt thankful on her kindness towards you. She didn’t have to go and buy you a new dress — but she did. It was a beautiful silk beige dress with a sweetheart neckline, thin shoulder straps, and a straight line hem with a side slit. Your confidence boosted through the roof on how you looked. While you were applying the last of your make up, Vincenzo walked into your room and paused as he took in your appearance. You could see the gears shifting in his brain before his eyes widened and he pointed at you.

“No.”

“No what? I can’t look hot?”

“Why are you dressed like that? Don’t tell me you’re going on a date with that psychopath.”

“For the record, you agreed that I should get close to him,” you ‘popped’ your lips as you finished applying your lipgloss. “And no, I’m not. That psychopath is throwing a party.”

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous,” Cha-young grabbed your shoulders and made you face Vincenzo. The two of you innocently smiled at him, which made him mock a smile back before walking away. Cha-young smacked her lips and frowned in disapproval before rolling her eyes. “How rude.”

“He’s always like that,” you scoffed and grabbed your purse, making sure to leave your actual cell phone behind and taking your undercover one instead.

Before you could walk out, Vincenzo grabbed your wrist and raised a finger. “If he touches you again, I will kill him. I can always make a few jumps ahead in our little game.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “Oh whatever, I’ll be fine. Just make sure to leave my apartment thirty minutes after I leave, just to be safe.” You planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “But I’ll be back! Maybe I’ll even get laid.”

You shot him one last wink and ran off right as he started to yell. You absolutely love pushing his buttons.

You walked out of the building and stood outside waiting for your car to get here. The party barely began five minutes ago but you weren’t in a rush to get there — it’s not like you’re the guest of honor. The car arrived just in time, so you opened the door and took a seat in the back. Just as you were about to put on your seatbelt, the driver quickly turned around and shoved a rag onto your face. Fuck, chloroform. You grabbed his wrist and twisted it, causing him to drop the rag on the floor as you attempted to open the doors. Of course this fucker would have child lock on. You began to kick the door and mentally cursed when you started to feel woozy and tired.

No, don’t fucking black out.

You rapidly blinked your eyes as you tried to stay awake, but the chloroform was definitely kicking your ass right now.

“You…fucking,” your body was giving up and you grew sluggish. “Piece of shit.”

Then your whole vision went black.

You don’t know how much time has passed since you’ve been taken, but when you slowly started to regain consciousness you noticed that you were handcuffed to a bed frame in a worn out bedroom. You laid on the dirty floor and noticed that the knife you had strapped to your thigh was gone.

“Wow I scored big tonight.”

You frowned at the creepy guy in front of you. He was definitely not hired for a job, he just looks like a simple homeless man. He seemed to be a few years older than you and wore worn out clothes that don’t appear to have been changed in months.

“Who are you?” You practically demanded.

All he did in response was raise an eyebrow at your question and stand up, completely turning his back on you.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, you fucker!”

You knew he wasn’t going to listen to you, but you had to let out your frustrated words somehow. You have no fucking clue what he was doing as he stood in front of a table but the moment he turned around, you wanted to kill him. His eyes were focused on you as they trailed your body, and he licked his lips before proceeding to rub himself through his pants.

What the actual fuck is wrong with him?

The sound of a phone — actually, your cell phone — going off made him stop. He let out an irritated groan before mumbling something underneath his breath as he walked out of the bedroom. Once he was gone you quickly bent your head and pulled out a bobby pin from your hair.

“Fucking pervert is dying tonight,” you mumbled as you picked the lock on the handcuffs. You were successful in getting them off and you rubbed your wrists while you began to search for a weapon, but stopped almost immediately when you took notice of an album sitting on the table. Upon further inspection when you opened it, you were horrified. Mangled bodies of young women were all posed in different and weird poses, and they were all naked too. So he kidnaps women, sexually tortures them, and then kills them for pleasure.

And you were his next victim.

“Fucking prick just signed his own death wish,” you spoke to yourself in disgust.

You grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and began to make your way towards your new prey.

Meanwhile, back at the party, Han-seok took notice of your absence and began to ask around in case anyone saw you. He found it odd that you were still not here, since you clearly stated in your text that you would attend the party. He knows women take longer to get ready, but it’s been over an hour since the party began and he definitely is not liking the fact that you possibly bailed on him. What are you doing that’s much more important than his party? Are you out clubbing and meeting other guys? Oh hell no.

He marched over to Ms. Choi since she was in charge of sending a car to you. “Ms. Choi, did you so happen and get any word on the car you sent to pick up Miss Marino?”

“Yes sir. Last I heard, they’ve been waiting outside her building for thirty minutes.”

He frowned at her words. “Did they get in contact with her?”

She shook her head. “No. They’ve tried to call her several times but received no answer.”

Why the fuck didn’t she say a word? He clenched his jaw, his voice dropping low with annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

Ms. Choi fixed her glasses. “You seemed busy, sir. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I don’t fucking care what your excuse is. You notify me about shit like this immediately.” And with that he walked away and called your phone. It rang three times before it was automatically sent to voicemail. He called again. And again. And every time it would ring, it would last differently, almost as if his call was going through but someone was declining it. He was not going to have any of that.

Using your number, he had some of his men track it down, and he rushed towards your destination in no time. The moment he pulled up to a rundown house, he grew confused. What the fuck are you doing here? He got out his truck and walked towards the front door, which turned out to be unlocked, but the moment he stepped inside and his nostrils were filled with the familiar iron smell, he panicked.

Yes, panicked. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of a slight fear. He didn’t miss all of the weird photos hanging on the walls. Each one was of a different woman, but the frames next to them were of the same girls, but dead, mutilated, and barely recognizable.

Han-seok genuinely felt his heart drop, and he began to call out your name, not caring if he alerted the owner of the house. In fact, he wants them to show themselves, so he can torture the fuck out of them and force them to tell him on your whereabouts.

What he didn’t expect to see was a male mutilated corpse laying on the floor of the living room, with you on the other side of the room, drenched in blood. His eyes roamed your body and took in your appearance really well. The beautiful silk dress you wore was now covered in blood, your hair was a bit unorganized but still looked perfect. Both of your hands were painted red in blood while your face, neck, and arms had a few splatters here and there. He didn’t miss your exposed left leg as well, something that really made him want to touch you.

You looked like a fucking goddess to him right now.

You were too busy sipping on whatever drink you prepared yourself since you didn’t bat an eye towards his direction, but the moment he stepped forward, the familiar click of a gun sounded off. He raised his hands in surrender, his lips curling into a smirk as he shot you a wink.

“It’s me!” He said in a cheerful tone.

But for some reason, you didn’t put down the gun.

You kept your aim on him as you completely debated whether or not to end this shit, right here, right now. You were fed up with these stupid feelings that have been overcoming you for the past few weeks. Getting attached and growing feelings for the enemy? Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? Even though the Cassano family didn’t have you as a main priority in their ranks anymore, there’s a reason why you were their main spy. You always stuck to the task to get it done, even in the times when you were sent to spy on the most gorgeous men in Italy, you always came through by ending your mission with their blood in your hands. You never second guessed your mission.

Until now.

You don’t know what’s so special about Han-seok. If anything, he’s the most psychotic guy you’ve been tasked to spy on. Sure you’ve dealt with a load of crazy men, but not ‘Han-seok level crazy’. Maybe it’s the way he walks with power and is strategic with his plans but is also a complete dork. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t take shit from anyone, no matter who they are to him. Maybe it’s the way how he treats you differently, and you’ve picked up on it too. He doesn’t take Ms. Choi, Mr. Han, or even Han-seo out for ice cream, or invites them to accompany him on regular every day tasks. Not once has he yelled at you or even came close to “punishing” you for your failures. Because you have “failed” him, when you couldn’t “beat” Vincenzo in certain situations. It was all a mess.

A mess you could end right now. You could get rid of this stupid fantasy your mind has been playing and flee from Korea. You could move to the States and start a new life there. Just forget about everything.

Han-seok raised an eyebrow and shot you a quick wave when he noticed you still aiming the gun at him. “What are you doing?”

You didn’t answer him. You remained frozen as your eyes began to brim with tears instead.

Why am I fucking crying?

Han-seok was more confused than ever at your reaction, and he began to wonder what was going on in your pretty little head. Did the man actually hurt you to the point where you were left traumatized? The thought itself made him feel an undeniable amount of rage, which is why he didn’t care as he stepped on the man’s hand when he began to walk towards you.

He called out your name, but you still had no reaction as you were lost in your thoughts.

“Give me the gun,” he ordered.

Shoot him! Just shoot him!

You were absolutely losing your mind. Your hand began to shake and your vision was clouded with tears at this point.

Why can’t I fucking shoot him?!

The moment you felt him grip the gun, you knew it was too late. He took it from your hold, put the safety on, and tossed it aside. Neither of you said anything for a while. You leaned back against the table as you began to space out, feeling out of touch with reality.

“I’m sorry I..” you stopped yourself from saying anything else. You were showing weakness to him, something you despised.

“Shh,” he remained calm, which was a surprise to you. His fingers brushed the side of your cheek and you felt yourself completely melt at the touch.

You involuntarily leaned into him, and he moved his hand to cup your cheek instead, his thumb rubbing the skin underneath your eye.

“All my life, I’ve been good at what I do.” You don’t know why you’re saying this but you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him. “My mother died giving birth to me, and for six years, my own father neglected me. He would beat me for any little thing I did wrong in his eyes and he constantly made me feel the burden of being the cause of my mother’s death. He was a thief and beggar, and would use me to do his dirty deeds in stealing. That’s the only reason why he kept me for a while, but little six year old me thought we were bonding. One night I made him something and I thought he would love it, but he went berserk and beat me so bad that he left me for dead. I remember him spitting on my small little body and saying that I’ll never be his daughter. He was surprised to find me still breathing the next day so he tried to sell me off and sex traffic me, but that didn’t work on his end. I grew up, was trained by the best, and spent years trying to find his sorry ass. When I did, I made sure to make him feel every bit of pain he made me go through.

“I got a shot in having a second family and I felt so happy, until they started to turn their backs on me as well. Deep down, I felt tossed away. It started to feel like they only kept me because of how good I was in completing missions for them. It didn’t feel like I was important to them, and I fucking hated it. Just like my father, they pushed me away, and only saw use of me whenever it benefited them.”

Much to your surprise, Han-seok was listening to your words. The way his beautiful brown eyes looked at you oddly made you feel safe, so you continued to spill everything to him.

“But working for you is different. Even though you send me on tasks to do some of your dirty work, you acknowledge me. You don’t order me to leave you alone. You treat me like I’m somebody. Even when I fail against Vincenzo at times, you don’t punish me for it. I’ve been losing my mind lately and,” you paused for a second as you swallowed. “I think I need to stop working for you and leave Korea.”

You felt his fingers on your skin twitch. “Why?”

God, is he really asking you why?

“I just have to.”

His face hardened. “That’s not a reason. Tell me why.”

“If you’re worried I’m going to tell anyone about what Babel and Wusang are up to, I’m not. I just want to leave this country and go far away as possible.”

He let out a dry laugh. “You’re not leaving.”

“You can’t make me stay.”

“Watch me.”

“What are you going to do? Threaten me? Keep me hostage? Kill me? What exactly are you going to do to make me stay, huh? There’s nothing in this world that I care for.”

Except for Vincenzo, but he doesn’t need to know that, and your brother will understand you needing to abandon the mission for personal reasons.

Han-seok brought his other hand up to cup your opposite cheek, his eyes connecting with yours. “If you give me a good enough reason, then maybe I’ll reconsider letting you leave. Sooo, talk.”

Oh god, are you really going to tell him? This will either end really bad or give you the opportunity to leave. You took in a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself for what you’re about to say.

“I fucked up big time. My task is to work by your side and get my hands dirty for you. This is strictly just business. But I,” you paused before continuing, “I literally fell for you. My stupid ass really fell for you.”

His hands dropped from your face and he took a step back. Your confession has completely stunned him and he has no idea what to do or say.

“It’s so unprofessional of me and so embarrassing. I don’t know how or when it happened. I think it was from that time you cleaned my wounds after my big fight with Vincenzo, I don’t know. I’m just disappointed in myself for stooping so low to this.” You grabbed the nearest rag and began to wipe away the leftover blood on your skin. “I’m going to raid this asshole’s closet, change, and take my leave. I enjoyed working for you Han-seok, and you have my word that I won’t spill any of your dirty business to the world.”

You began to walk away from him, thankful that he wasn’t making a scene or trying to get more embarrassing information out of you. The feel of his rough hand clasping around your wrist made you whirl your head, and you looked up at him with confusion.

“What are you–”

“Oh shut up and kiss me beautiful.”

And he immediately pressed his lips against yours. Unlike last time, you didn’t hesitate in kissing him back and you gripped his tie before pulling him down closer to you. His hand cupped the back of your neck while he placed his other one on your hip, pulling your body closer as the kiss grew feverishly. You didn’t even realize you both were walking backwards, and when your butt bumped into the edge of a table, he quickly hoisted you up and sat you down on it.

He stood in between your legs and his hand started to touch your exposed leg, sliding itself underneath your dress as he began to rub circles on your inner thigh. Your arousal grew and you bit back a moan. Jesus, he’s not even touching you there yet and you’re already wet for him. Your hook ups weren’t even able to bring this reaction out of you — not even when they were deep inside you too.

You were just about to reach down to unbuckle his belt when his phone began to ring. Han-seok slammed his hand on the table and pulled away, irritation clear on his features.

“What?” He answered with annoyance, but the moment he felt you kissing up his neck, he relaxed.

You could hear a female voice on the other line, pinpointing it to be Ms. Choi.

“Yes I found her. Next time, make sure to do a background check on the drivers you send.” You heard more talking before he scoffed. “You’ll apologize to Miss Marino, not me. I’ll head over there now.”

He quickly hung up and set his phone down, tilting your chin up so yours eyes could meet his. “Sorry baby. The party is boring without me so they need me back.”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname. “I guess,” you sighed before pointing at the dress. “Although I do need a wardrobe change. My dress is ruined.”

He looked down at the blood stains and his nostrils flared for a bit. “Did he touch you? If so,” he reached over to the table and grabbed the bloodied scissors, “I can always rearrange his face more. Snip snip.”

You laughed at his last words before grabbing the scissors out of his hand. “There’s no need for that, I already took care of it. Stupid asshole wished he could touch me, but seriously, I need to buy a new dress.”

“Hm, tell me where you bought that one because you look amazing in it. After that, we’ll head to the party since it’s not fun without me.”

Somehow, a very naughty thought popped up in your head.

“Or,” you grabbed his tie and pulled him down towards you. “We could have a little bit of fun ourselves.”

You saw him swallow and his eyes widened just a little bit. If there’s any way to describe him right now, he looked so innocent, as if his secret little persona as Joon-woo emerged and completely replaced Han-seok. But that surprised look completely went away when his hand found its way to your neck, and he gave it a light squeeze, enough to turn you on again.

“Oh baby, I’m going to ruin you.”

And right there is the moment you knew that there was no going back. This wasn’t just an undercover mission anymore. Jang Han-seok, the CEO of Babel, has you completely wrapped around his finger, and you could care less. Any sense of morality that you had left has gone out the window at this point. This man can tell you to torture or kill anyone for him, and you’ll do it in a heartbeat.

You were at his mercy, and you fucking love it.

#vincenzo kdrama #jang hanseok #reader x jang hanseok #jang hanseok x reader #jang hanseok fic #hanseok x reader #jang hanseok oneshot #ok taecyeon #ok taecyeon vincenzo #jang jun woo #jang joon woo #reader x jang woo #reader x jang joon woo #vincenzo hanseok #jang joonwoo

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caffiend-queen · 1 month

Text

Do NOT Say 'Always After My Lucky Charms,' Or I Will Stab You

Welcome to another addition to the Holidays in Hel series! Where Loki and Mina attempt to save the Avengers from yet another catastrophic holiday fuckup.

I've been cleaning up and adding bits to my Holidays in Hel series because really, it's my favorite. I hope you enjoy, and thank you as always for reading!

Chapter Two: "Why Do I Always Smell Like Something Dead That Washed Up On The Beach?"

In which Mina discovers that the Fair Folk are not only not Fair, they're kind of assholes, and it's looking like another holiday shot straight to Hel.

Mina...

“Wh- where the hell am I?”

You were in the middle of a miraculous forest clearing with brightly colored birds swooping gracefully and gnarled tree trunks that looked ready to come alive and scold you. The sky was a vaguely eerie lavender and a single, wistful pipe was sending out a delicate tune on the wind. You could just see the sparkling sapphire and golden tints of a wide river meandering through the woods. Anxiously checking, you heaved a sigh of relief to see you were still in your sweater and tartan kilt. And, you were resting on a bed … uh … couch… “Is this like a throne?” you mumbled, “Because there’s that one spiky part that looks like it’s got a crown carved into it, but there’s blankets and… why does this shit happen to me?” The couch/bed/throne whatever you were sitting on was remarkably comfortable and rose grandly above the clearing. “So was I roofied? Loki’s the one who bought the drinks, so… Poofed? Is there someone aside from Loki who can poof people in and out of bars? Ugh. I’m beginning to feel like John McClane in Die Hard, why is it always us?”

One of the tiny, jeweled butterflies ventured closer to you and made an inquiring sort of sound. Admiring its iridescent patterns, you crooned, “Hello, you little sweetie. Don’t suppose you could show me where the exit is, huh?” The glittering creature landed lightly on your upturned hand, and two eyes popped open above the concealing swirls on its thorax. You jumped a little, “Oh! Hey, look at you! I don’t suppose you talk?” There was another delightful, high trill from the butterfly, and then a shocking amount of pain as it chomped down on the sensitive webbing between your thumb and forefinger.

“OW! You little shit!” You shook your hand furiously but the butterfly had surprisingly sharp teeth and stubbornly hung on until you smacked it sharply on the head with your index finger. “Bad! Bad butterfly!” With a spiteful chitter, the creature fluttered away.

“Babe! You’re up!” Two arms wrapped around you like a particularly stubborn strain of ivy, a hand heading straight for your breasts.

And suddenly you were fighting off the long-limbed advances of a very handsome man.

An extremely gorgeous man with pointed ears.

“Hands off, pal! Who the Hel are you?”

He chuckled indulgently, leering at you - shit, were his eyes silver? - and took a swig of something out of the golden cup with one hand while gripping you around the waist with the other. You managed to eel free from his grip - mainly because you knew his attention was on his cocktail. Stumbling back, you took a wild look around before focusing again on him.

He was beautiful. Beautiful in the perfect, unearthly way that Loki was. Likely as tall and perfectly muscled with long, flowing golden hair and pointed ears.

Pointed. Fucking. Ears.

“Aw, damn it. You’re one of the Fae, aren’t you?” Loki had warned you about those guys.

The elf smiled again, full red lips and so alluring as his lids dropped to half-mast, looking you over thoroughly. "You are so hot. Babe, we are gonna PARTY," he paused, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “and then I'm gonna find your pot o' gold.“ He chortled loudly and for a minute, he reminded you of your ex-boyfriend Ted, president of his fraternity and notorious for the high alcohol poisoning rate on campus.

“I beg your pardon?” you gasped, “Look, I don’t care who you are- just send me back, and- wait, where’s Monty? You didn’t hurt the poor guy, did you?”

He began laughing magnificently, really, no other word would do, his head thrown back and mouth open to show his sharp, white teeth. “I am that shriveled-up old dude. I’m Monty with just a touch of glamour to make me ordinary. Now look at the real me! What a step up in your love life, huh?”

You glanced over your shoulder - was there an exit around here? A portal? A Greyhound bus? “This cannot be happening,” you groaned. “Yeah, uh… your name’s not really Monty, what is it?”

Taking another gulp of mead, or whatever the Hel the Fae drank these days, and giving an extremely rude belch, your supermodel fairy kidnapper offered, "Aengus. Prince of the Tuatha Dé Danan." He winked at you over the goblet he was drinking from, "And your fairy for Youth, Love, and Summer. I know you're honored, 'cause you are my chosen lady-babe."

“Angus?” you attempted.

“No, babe. Just- it’s Ah-hen-gess.” He put his long fingers on your jaw.

“Uh, Ah-hingus?” you tried again.

“Draw it out, gorgeous, just elongate your jaw like a snake and say, “Ah-he- Look, never mind, babe. Here,” he thrust a goblet (chalice? flagon?) into your hand and you sniffed at it. “Uisce beatha. The good stuff. It’s the second most delicious thing to come out of Ireland.” The smarmy bastard had the nerve to look pointedly down at his junk as he said this.

“M’lord, the other humans are totally bitching about getting stuck in the tree castle. You want me to knock ‘em out?” Another spectacularly good-looking elf with the body of a Ken doll and the expression of a village simpleton interrupted your little interlude.

“You- wait, there’s other humans here?” You froze in your efforts to bat away the wandering hands of Aengus and frowned at him. “How many people did you kidnap?”

Glaring at his tattle-tale elf buddy, your captor tried to smooth it over. “Babe, don’t worry about them. Let’s chill, take some clothes off, drink a brew or two…” he leaned forward, his beautiful face wearing a dashing grin. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine. It’s…” he giggled, “magically delicious!”

“Really? Oh, my god, just- geddoff me! I mean it! You do not want the Hel that is about to rain down on you in the form of my boyfriend Loki!”

Both elves stopped dead and stared at you. Aengus even put his flagon of uisce beatha down. “Did you say… Loki?” he asked hoarsely.

You rarely invoked the Name of Loki. You preferred to handle your own problems. You didn’t expect or even want Loki to get involved in all the petty details of your life because he had a tendency to attempt to take them all over in order to “assist” you. But if it freaked out these douchey Irish Fae then you were going to wield Loki’s reputation like a blunt instrument.

So… “Yes!” you hissed threateningly, “You’ve interrupted a very important night for us and Loki, Prince of Asgard, rightful King of Jotunheim and God of Mischief and Lies does NOT like to be disappointed!”

You were pissed. You didn’t get your traditional corned beef and cabbage dinner. You did not get lucky with Loki - wait, that sounded like a dating show - but this was really the worst kind of bullshit! You may have been shy when Loki first plucked you off Madison Avenue (literally) but time and a series of disastrous holiday fuckups had definitely helped you find your voice. And your temper. You leaned forward, staring into his startled silver eyes. “And of course, you probably know Loki best as the most terrifying of the ten things that invaded Ireland. Remember the Vikings? I’ll bet you do, Angus!”

“Aengus,” he correctly absently before looking at the other freaked-out fairy. “Get the other babes, I don’t care if they’re hot, this is turning into a total buzzkill, man.”

Your eyes widened, Shit, did I just get us all killed by invoking the name of Loki?

Loki...

“Why does this always happen to us?”

It could have been any one of the Avengers whining, and really, Loki had to agree it was a reasonable question. It had been repeated over and over, on every holiday since Stark had first insisted he attend the billionaire’s ridiculous Yule festivities.

“We are cursed,” Thor said, slumped over Mjölnir, which he had been swinging around in an extremely unsafe fashion as he shouted about “Betrayal!” and “Vengeance!” until he’d nearly caved in the skull of one of the terrified bartenders and had been threatened by Tony.

“I will shave you bald. Point Break, if you don’t put that stumpy piece of shit down! You remember that doorman you put into a coma? Do you? That was Happy’s second cousin’s kid!”

Trying to ignore them all, Loki was walking through the deeply uncomfortable patrons of the Dead Rabbit, which had been locked down the moment they discovered their dates had been - yet again - abducted. Bucky was following close enough to have scuffed his exquisite Bolvaint onyx dress shoes, but, well, there was more important business at hand. Also, anyone willing to attempt to get testy about being detained was instantly quelled by Bucky’s glare.

Leaning in close to Loki, he murmured, “What are we looking for?”

Lips barely moving, he answered, “Our women were taken through some portal with that vile troll Monty,” Loki sneered, “so I am attempting to discover this portal. But upon occasion, a creature of supernatural origin might also act as the portal. So no one shall leave until -” His sharp eyes just barely caught a tuft of hair moving stealthily along the mahogany bar, and he vaulted over the shining expanse and seized the tuft of hair and the body attached to it.

“Saor mé nó bás!” The diminutive man was kicking at Loki fiercely, though his legs were too short to make contact.

Holding him up to eye level, he snarled back, “Phooka, I should have known. You must be mad to attempt Maidentheft here!”

“Wait?” Steve poked his head over the bar. “Maidens? Theft? Is this some human trafficking ring?”

“Of a sort,” Loki said, not taking his gaze from the writhing Phooka. “The Fae enjoy stealing mortal brides upon occasion. But the victim must agree to dance with them first before they can be pulled through the portal.” He gave the flailing creature a brisk shake that nearly took his tufted red head from his body. “You are the portal, goblin! Where have you sent them!”

Steve just couldn’t help himself. “Don’t you mean Leprechaun? Or is that rude? Little person? Or-”

“Call him what you want, Capsicle,” barked Tony, “but he’s snatched the girls and we need them back! Pepper’s never going to let me forget this, so let Loki do his mystical mojo shit before she has me sleeping out on the balcony for the next year!”

“Ní inseoidh mé go deo! Lig saor mé!” The glamour was wearing off Phooka and his limbs were lengthening, hair turning long and silver-blond. But then the image shimmered and he returned to the gnarled little creature he’d been before.

“Oh, no, Cluricaun, I will not release you. In fact,” Loki’s arm raised higher, easily holding the struggling creature at eye level, “I shall bind you into this form forever.”

“Nil! Nil!” he screeched, thrashing like a trout on the hook.

“Oh, yes…” purred Loki, an unholy look of joy gleaming in his eyes, “no longer of the Fair Folk, the beautiful creature who bespells all who see him. You shall be in this lumpy, repugnant form forever. Warts covering every inch of you. Oozing pus.” Phooka shrieked and kicked, fruitlessly waving his stubby arms as Loki’s grip remained steady.

Bucky pulled an alarmingly large KA-BAR USMC Utility knife from… somewhere. The dim light of the bar glinted off of it as he pointed it at the troll that kidnapped his Darcy. “Let me soften him up for you, huh?” Everyone crowding around them backed up three steps.

“No need, my friend. Is there, Imp?"

Looking angrily between them, the creature slumped in Loki’s grasp. Expertly spinning his knife between his fingers, Bucky looked at the rest of the Avengers. “Armor up. Let’s go get our women.”

Mina...

“No hard feelings, huh?” Aengus was examining his perfectly shaped fingernails and flicked off a bit of a fish scale. “Your dudes should be here sometime, so… you know.”

“Wait, what?” You were waist-deep in fish guts. Pepper was sliding headfirst off a mountain of what looked like rotting seaweed and slime, and Jane and Darcy were trying to fend off the seagulls who were apparently assuming they were part of the fish offal and thus fair game. “No hard feelings? You kidnapped us, you dick! And now you’re leaving us… where the hell is this, anyway?”

There would be no further information forthcoming from Prince Asshole of the Fae, because Aengus and his fairy henchmen disappeared with a sparkly ‘pop!’

“What the hell just happened?” screeched Darcy, swiping at a seagull trying to get his beak into her hair. “Get off me, you flying barnacle!”

“I’m… I don’t know,” you admitted, trying to raise one foot out of the fish guts and losing a shoe. “Ugh! This is so nasty! But I think I freaked him out by telling him we know Loki and this was really going to piss him off.”

Pepper was gagging as she slid sideways in the disintegrating fish intestines, her immaculate white suit now an unspeakable Rorschach test of nausea. “How long before your boyfriend figures out where we are, Mina?”

“Loki’s not some kind of a magical bloodhound,” you groaned, “I dunno. Did these idiots try to hide us, or is this like just dumping us off on the side of the highway like a carjacker leaving you to die?" Looking around as you struggled to free yourself from the decaying remains of what had to be half the sea life in the Atlantic Ocean, you were getting concerned that this was option number two.

There was no sign of life around you.

“Now what?” sulked Hedley Kow, who’d really been looking forward to scoring on this night, of all nights! The Fair Folk were all hot, but man, there was something about bagging a human chick… there was nothing like it. Unfortunately, he’d attempted to woo Natasha, so he was currently sporting two black eyes and a broken arm.

Sighing elaborately, Aengus glared at him. “Ring up the Aos sí. You know there are some serious babes there, especially the Pinkets. Tell ‘em we got barrels of Uisce beatha and a live band. Those chicks will be topless by midnight!”

Loki...

When their feet hit the ground of wherever they’d been portal’ed to, the Avengers were ready. Armed, teeth gnashing, weapons bristling, and ready to bring down the entire Leprechaun Kingdom to avenge their abducted comrades. But there was no one to admire their ferocious presentation, aside from a couple of listless seagulls pecking at the bloated carcass of what was possibly a seal.

“Are you sure we’re at the right place?” Steve said doubtfully, “I just figured the Fairies would have a… fancier setup?”

“We are in the correct place,” snarled Loki, “but not in the kingdom of the Fair Folk. They have discarded the women in this benighted place.”

Tony was levitating in his suit, thrusters firing randomly as he turned in one direction, and then the other, trying to spot Pepper and the others. Loki could feel a searing headache creeping up his spine as he had to put out the small fire Tony’s suit had created on a dilapidated shed before he set this malodorous fishing slum ablaze.

“Hey…” Bucky put down his AK-47. “I think I know where we are. This is Port. It’s an abandoned village on this tiny island off the coast of Ireland. Donegal. In World War Two, we were doing reconnaissance on the Nazis…” His ocean eyes went blank for a minute before he seemed to reboot again. “It’s supposed to be haunted. It smelled like fish guts and mildew. That part’s just the way I remember it.”

Spreading his long, pale fingers, Loki created a sizzling rope of green fire. He whispered to it, twirled it in an endless loop between his hands, and then flung it free, like a bird set loose from its cage and it soared toward the sea. “They are here,” he said, “but hidden. The Fae are spiteful, even in defeat.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Darcy was pointing a fingernail with chipped red polish at the sky.

Sliding free from the pile of fish offal, Jane still managed to slip and fall into a particularly rotted, gelatinous mass. “Damnit!” she howled, Just So Done With This.

Putting a hand over her eyes and trying to shield them from the salt-laced wind, Mina squinted. “That’s…” she knew that signature, the coils of green flame twisting elegantly as it circled around them. “That’s from Loki.” She gave an excited little jump and slipped too, ending up on her ass with a “splat!’ in a decaying barrel of… of course, fish guts. “Ugh! But that means they’re here. They’re looking for us! HEY!” Mina shouted, jumping up and down, waving her filthy arms, “Here! We’re over here!”

Within an instant, the tall, beautiful form of her lover, her god, her Loki stood before her, cradling her face in his cool hands. “And here you are, lovely.” He bent to kiss her but Mina backed away.

“Don’t! I love you and I’m so glad you found us but don’t touch me! You’ll have to burn that suit and you know I love the Tom Ford jackets on you!” Loki’s elegant nose was wrinkling, despite his best efforts and she sighed. “Why is it that I always smell like something dead that washed up on the beach whenever you rescue me?”

“Ah,” he raised one finger, gently tapping her nose. “I did not rescue you on this particular disastrous holiday. The Fae set you free.” She shivered, looking doubtfully around the filthy pier and Loki chuckled, pulling off his jacket and helping her into it, mourning briefly. It really was one of his favorites… ah, well. “How could this happen? We were prepared for battle.”

“It was genius,” Jane said approvingly, “Mina terrified them into releasing us.”

“How?” asked Thor, clumsily petting her hair and snarling it into dreadlocks with a hint of decomposing marine life lacquer.

“She evoked the name of Loki” Darcy interrupted, as she always did. “She scared the shit out of the head fairy guy. Man, were those assholes a letdown! I thought fairies were supposed to be so magical and mysterious? They were like frat guys! Even stupider than frat guys, which I did not know was possible.”

Loki raised one elegant black brow. “Really, my clever girl? What did you say that so discouraged them? The group of you are an extremely desirable prize to the Fae.” The women simultaneously looked at themselves and shuddered as one. “Well, not at this moment,” he allowed, “but you are delectable.”

Mina allowed herself the smallest smirk, the tiniest bit of gloating. “I told that dickhead Aengus that surely he remembered that of the ten most terrifying things that invaded Ireland, you were the worst.”

“I was there also!” protested Thor, who’d given up on trying to soothe Jane and was attempting to wipe off the gelatinous fish residue from his hands. “I was very terrifying! The Fae must sing songs of my power in battle-”

“Yes, yes brother,” Loki interrupted, emerald eyes narrowed, “did you say Aengus?”

Mina nodded vigorously. “Yeah, that shut down his sleazy seduction scene in a hurry. You should have seen-”

His elegant hands waved furiously in the air, and they all disappeared from the dilapidated remains of Port with a loud “Pop!” that scared the seagulls.

The stink from the group was so appalling by the time Loki had “poofed” them back into the Tower that F.R.I.D.A.Y. politely informed them that, “I have taken the liberty of opening the gym showers for your group, and there will be a cart to take your clothes to the incinerator.”

Watching something that might have been a fish eyeball fall out of her hair and swirl down the shower drain, Mina smiled a little to see even Natasha, who had somehow remained untouched gratefully lean into the warm water. “Everyone okay?”

“You know that when the tower’s AI refuses to let you on the residential floors without a decontamination that you smell really, really bad,” sighed Pepper, shampooing her hair for the third time.

But finally clean at last and dressed in warm, fresh clothes, Mina sighed with relief, falling into the firmly muscled arms of Loki. “Thank you for being historically terrifying, sweetheart.”

“But I was there, too!” protested Thor, still upset and looking vaguely ridiculous in borrowed sweats that barely reached his shins. “Did the sprite not mention me?”

“Uh…” Mina was trying to not actually inhale the corned beef and cabbage dinner, grabbing another scoop of creamy Colcannon before Bucky took it all. Tony was insistent that no one was heading off to bed without polishing off the Irish dinner his chefs prepared. “Try the mustard sauce, Loki,” she said, spooning some of the fragrant yellow sauce onto his corned beef. “So, I still don’t get this. Leprechauns are really just fairy guys who use it as a disguise to trick human women into like, dating them?”

Loki shrugged, elegantly slicing into his meal. “There are Leprechauns. But they care for nothing but their gold. Their interaction with mortals is minimal. But their appearance is one easily taken and the Deamhna Aerig can use it to walk among you. No sweet girl like you would turn down a dance from…” he sneered despite his attempts to remain calm, “such as Monty, now would you?”

His Mina’s chin went up, a bad sign. “I won’t ever be sorry for being kind to people.”

Sighing, he tried to backtrack. “I know, lovely. But this is also what these craven fools count on.”

Natasha was finishing off another two fingers of Redbreast 15-year whiskey. Slamming the glass back on the table, she said, “What matters now is what happens to this мудак! How do we teach them a lesson?”

Even knowing he was about to say something terrible, something probably rather evil, Mina still felt a tingle in her girl parts as Loki leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as a slow, savage grin spread across his beautiful face. “мой друг, this is happening as we enjoy our dinner. Though,” he added graciously, knowing the Russian’s desire to handle her own ‘business,’ "I am happy to deliver the fool who assaulted you to a location of your choice for your own brand of justice.”

She just couldn’t help it, Natasha started laughing, this arrogant сволочь knew her so well. “I’m looking forward to seeing your Evil Genius. I assume you have a way for us to enjoy it?”

“Well,” Loki allowed modestly, “since you have requested it…”

It was as clear as some well-filmed high-definition film, but the scene the highly entertained Avengers were watching wasn’t fiction, though the sight of the ethereal forest of the Fae would seem so. But the vile, sweating mass of Leprechauns were anything but enchanting.

“No, ladies, just hold-” a giant fart ripped through the desperate attempt from Hedley Kow to salvage the evening. Two nymphs reared back, waving their pretty hands in front of their faces as they gagged. “I mean it, we’re just gonna switch back to our real forms and-”

“If thou could have, thou wouldst,” sneered one. “Come, sisters. It is time for the Aos si to take our leave.” Groans rippled through the forest as the silvery forms of the nymphs disappeared.

“What is happening, man?” screamed one of the Fae, pulling at his ratty red hair as he belched miserably, sending up a cloud of fumes so toxic it was almost visible. “This is on you, Aengus! No babes! We’re in Gnome Hel, man! It was Loki, huh? You pissed him off again and shit- I can’t stop farting!”

Their leader gagged, feeling another one of his monstrous pimples spurt pus onto a chest so hairy that he appeared to be wearing a sweater. “He’s just being a dick! I’ll fix it, y’know, when Loki cools down.” The sweating mass of hairy, pimpled, gaseous trolls moaned, a chorus of ear-splitting farts their only answer.

Mina...

“How are you feeling, sweet girl?” That sly devil you were in love with, the god who’d rescued you yet again from a colossal holiday fuckup that was guaranteed in the company of the Avengers, was stroking your neck very softly and it was doing things to you.

“Better, I guess,” you were trying to not melt into some needy, shameless puddle because you were standing just behind the rest, who were still enjoying the complete shit show that the Irish Fae had found themselves floundering through. “At least we got our corned beef and cabbage dinner.”

“Mmmm…” he breathed against your ear, the vibrations tingling up and down your spine. “And is that all my darling Mina wanted for her ancestral holiday?”

“Well,” you allowed, “I’d hoped for… you know. A special moment. No matter how godawful our holidays are, the sex afterward is always so…” you sighed mistily, “spectacular.”

His long arms tightened around your waist, and you felt that strange pull at the base of your spine that told you within an instant you would be somewhere else, swept away by this magical god, who for some reason loved you. The room disappeared, and you fell onto your bed, pillows flying in all directions, and in an instant, you were naked and Loki was thrusting into you. You yelped in shock. Usually, it was a production, a slow build as your delicious god toyed and cajoled you into being ready for him.

But this!

You were ready, oh, god you were ready and you had no idea how it happened so fast.

“W- wait, one minute we’re watching the Asshole Fae Reality Show and now we’re- oh, GOD!” He’d given a particularly savage thrust and you just howled.

“I fear I cannot be patient tonight, cailín daor,” he groaned, “I have wanted to be inside you since I heard of your genius, your terrifying of the Fair Folk until they retreated from the field of battle.”

“Th- th- they dumped us in a pile of fish guts in a haunted village!” you managed, the mattress bouncing vigorously and your hands slipping over the slick skin on his back, trying to hold on.

“Ah,” he chuckled breathlessly, a deeply arousing growl that made your thighs clench harder against his hips, “you were cunning, my love. You were outnumbered in combat against a well-armored - though profoundly stupid - foe, and you drove them before you like sheep. You used your wit, your cleverness and I have never,” he thrust hard again and your legs flew up, toes pointing to the ceiling as the silky tip of him pushed higher inside you than you knew was possible. “I have never,” he continued, “desired you more.” Loki was speaking with his mouth against yours, not kissing so much as taking in the breath of each other, his body iron-hard and driving fiercely through you, big hands groping your breasts greedily. “So tonight, mo shióg deas, I shall fuck you, as one warrior would another after combat.” Heaving up and back on his heels, he hauled you along with him, still connected as he bent you, back arched over his arm, his other hand pushing gently against your heaving stomach. “I can feel myself,” he panted, “here.”

You let out a screech as he pressed harder. The feel of him inside and outside of you was unimaginable. It was wild and overwhelming and so fucking sexy and it was turning you into some kind of lunatic because you wrapped your arm around his shoulder and reared up, biting his neck with your sharp little teeth. Loki let out a low, harsh groan and you could swear his cock just doubled in size.

“Do it again.” His fingers gripped the back of your hair and pressed your face to his throat. “Again.”

Grinning, you did, biting into that luscious muscle just over his prominent collarbone and seizing a handful of his thick, silky hair as well.

Loki was always smooth, exquisite, and slick in his seductions. He was not one to lose control but you felt a savage sort of victory as his sinuous hips stuttered, pushing harder, sloppier into you. “Again,” he rasped.

Now both hands were in his hair, tilting his head sharply as you bit into the other side of his neck, and to your shock, your mouth filled with the lush taste of his cool blood as your cunt filled with the heat of his come.

Shivering against each other, Loki’s hands squeezing your ass and your still gripping thick handfuls of his hair, you were still, frozen tightly together. “Holy shit,” you wheezed, “I never… That so goes on our list of stuff to do to each other again!”

Loki began laughing, a huge, hearty laugh that so rarely came from him, an unguarded moment he rarely allowed and it was wonderful. Also, it was making his cock jolt inside your swollen girl parts and rubbing up against some really sensitive places. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you started giggling, too. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day, baby,” you managed, “now, that’s celebrating like a true Ireannach!”

“And to you, my love,” he managed, “and to you.”

Ireannach - Irishman mo shióg deas - my pretty fairy

Deamhna Aerig - air demon

Uisce beatha - from the genius misreall, it means "water of life," early whiskey and the rare thing that the Fae would be guzzling on a night like this.

I'm starting over with a vague memory of who might like my Loki and Avengers tales. If you would like on or off this list, please let me know! Thank you. Mwah!

@what-is-your-plan-today

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@the-soulofdevil

@americasass81

@mdemontespan1667

@sultry-rachael

@myoxisbroken

@gigglingtiggerv2

@notpedeka

@narnianarcher

@sylviefromneptune

@winterslove1917

@kimanne723

@hawkeyes-queen

@grymrayven

@stevihj

@lizette50

@jevans2

@wolfsmom1

@devikafernando

@wegingerangelica

@nildespirandum

@alexakeyloveloki

@thebatshitcrazyfangirl

@thehumming6ird

@archy3001

@iheartsebastianstan

@tomstinkerbell

@wolfpawn

@rayofdawnworld

@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

@dangertoozmanykids101

@alexakeyloveloki

@nuggsmum

@boredbrooder

@fairlightswiftly

@inkededucatednnerdy

@nonsensicalobsessions

@viv-annelore

@eleniblue

#tumblr besties and beloveds #loki fandom #loki smut #tom hiddleston #bucky barnes #Avengers Holidays in Hel #yet another Avengers holiday fuckup #St. Patrick's Day with Loki

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ejzah · 6 months

Text

It’s Baby Time, Part 3

***

As the euphoria started to fade just a tiny bit, reality set in. Giving birth wasn’t exactly an elegant business. There was a lot of blood and other…stuff surrounding them. Not to mention his hand, and clothes, which were trashed. More importantly, Kensi was still sitting in the middle of floor in only his t-shirt; she had to be freezing.

“Hey, let’s get you against the tub,” he suggested, noticing Kensi lilting to the side. He glanced around the bathroom, which was hardly a comfortable place to rest. “I guess we could get you in bed, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to move that much before Sheila gets here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I could move if I wanted to right now,” Kensi agreed. Together, they managed to get her, and the babies, shuffled back against the tub, a couple towels behind her for cushion. He grabbed several more bath towels from the cabinet—they’d be absolutely destroyed after this, but Deeks thought it was a worthwhile sacrifice—and laid them over Kensi’s legs.

“Are you ok? I mean, relatively speaking. You’re not in extreme pain or going to pass out?”

Kensi shook her head once, head falling to the side. One of the babies gave a high pitched cry, instinctively rooting against Kensi’s shirt. They were starting to move more, little fingers reaching aimlessly to explore their new world.

“Oh, are you hungry already, Sweetie?” Kensi whispered softly, that awe back again. She looked up at Deeks, already trying to wriggle free of one sleeve. “Can you help me take this off?”

After a significant amount of maneuvering, they finally got the shirt off, and Kensi let out a sigh of relief as she cradled both babies against her bare skin.

Deeks couldn’t tear his eyes away, marveling at seeing of their twins in real life, not just a blurry sonogram, to feel their fingers curl around his. And he marveled at Kensi’s strength.

“I’m going to call Sheila again and let her know what’s going on,” he told Kensi, reluctant to take his eyes off them for even a second.

“She’s going to be mad we’re putting her out of business,” Kensi joked. “And then you need to call—

“—Rosa,” they said together.

***

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised that you two decided to make an early and very surprising arrival,” Sheila Balthazar said, speaking to the babies as she held a stethoscope to the little boy’s chest. She shot Kensi and Deeks a smirk. “From everything I’ve heard, your mom and dad are handfuls too.”

After helping deliver the placentas—Deeks was vaguely relieved he hadn’t needed to do that part himself—Sheila let Kensi and the babies have a little more skin time before having Deeks cut their umbilical cords.

Now, Kensi was tucked into bed, the baby girl in her arms while Sheila finished their physicals. She’d already weighed them, checked their reflexes, and breathing.

She tilted her head, shifting stethoscope diaphragm a few millimeters to the left. After a few more seconds, she reswaddled the baby, handing off to Deeks, who cradled him to his bare chest.

“They’re both small, but that’s normal for twins, especially when they’re a little early,” she explained. You have two beautiful, healthy babies. Congratulations, Kensi and Deeks.”

“Thank you,” Kensi murmured, wiping a few tears from her eyes. Deeks reached for her hand, and squeezed it.

“And good job to both of you with the delivery. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here in time.”

“Well, fortunately, we had a good teacher,” Deeks teased, nuzzling the top of the baby’s head. Then more seriously, he nodded to Kensi. “What about Kensi. You said there wasn’t any tearing and everything else looked good, but should we be doing anything else.”

“Yes. You should all rest,” she told him gently. “Right now Kensi’s body is doing exactly what it should be. I’m going to stay overnight, like we discussed, just to monitor for any changes. For now though, I’m going to clean up that bathroom while you snuggle these babies.”

Deeks started to get up, but she pointed a finger at him, her glare firm.

“You stay put. You’ve already done enough, and believe me, you’re gonna need the rest.”

Deeks sank back onto the bed, nodding to Sheila in thanks. He glanced over at Kensi, who was doing a terrible job of not laughing at him.

“Oh shush. You ready to call Rosa?”

“Yes! I feel bad that we didn’t do it sooner,” Kensi said.

“Well, we were slightly occupied. Besides it’s probably a good thing that she didn’t see when everyone was covered in blood.” Deeks pointed out as he hit Rosa’s picture in his phone.

Kensi wrinkled her nose. “Oh yeah, that’s not a first good look,” she agreed.

“Besides, she probably was in the middle of a class when all this went down.”

The FaceTime dial tone rang a few times, before Rosa picked up, audio connecting before the video.

“Hey Rosa.”

“Hi Marty. Is everything ok? You don’t usually call me in the middle of the day,” she said.

“Everything is fine,” Deeks told her, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. “But, uh, we do have a surprise for you.” He turned the phone so the entire bed was in frame.

Rosa frowned for a second, then her mouth dropped open. “Oh my god, you had the babies!” she shouted. “When did this happen?”

“Like an hour ago?” Deeks tilted his head. “Maybe less. Kinda hard to tell. Time’s a little nebulous right now.”

“In true nature for our family, they decided to show up early and fast,” Kensi said, shifting against her mound of pillows. She glanced at Deeks briefly, her smile soft and fond. “So quickly, that Deeks had to deliver them.”

“Oh mi dios,” Rosa whispered, covering her mouth. “¿Estás bien, Kensi?“

“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, fine for just having pushed two babies out with very little warning,” Kensi amended. Rosa still looked concerned. “I promise I’m ok. Sheila said we’re all healthy.”

“Thank goodness.” Rosa smiled, putting a hand on her cheek. “Are they girls or boys? No wait, don’t tell me. I want to find out when I get there,” she said, speaking almost as fast as Deeks could in heightened moments. “I’ll be there in an hour and a half. Maybe less.”

“Don’t you have another class?” Deeks asked, his dad side kicking in.

“There’s no way I’m going to ethics when I have two siblings waiting at home. The professor’s cool anyway. He’ll understand,” Rosa said. By the way the video shook, he guessed she had already started for her car, at a fast pace.

“Alrighty, then. Drive carefully, see you soon, and we love you.”

“Love you, Rosa,” Kensi called out softly.

***

Deeks heard the door open and shut roughly and hour and forty minutes after they hung up with Rosa. A minute later, a breathless and excited Rosa popped her head through door.

She hesitated, seeing that Kensi and the twins were sleeping. Deeks gestured her in, rising to meet her with a hug.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey. I’m glad you made it.” Deeks gave her an extra tight squeeze, before gestured to the bed. “You want to see them?”

“Oh, I don’t want to wake them up.”

“It’s ok,” Kensi slurred, pushing herself up a little. “I’m just dozing. Come sit down.”

Rosa gingerly sat on the very edge of the bed, looking uncertain now as she peered at the little blanket covered bundles on Kensi’s lap.

“Rosa, meet your brother, Caleb, and your sister, Sophia,” Kensi introduced them.

“Oh, they’re beautiful.”

“Go ahead, you can hold them,” Kensi encouraged her. Rosa didn’t move, her expression shifting to one of uncertainty.

Deeks shifted onto the other side of the bed, scooping up Sophia. “Here, Rosamund, you won’t hurt them.”

“But they’re so tiny,” she whispered.

“I know, but it’ll be ok.” He carefully shifted Sophia into Rosa’s arms, which shook a little as she gathered the baby against her chest.

She ran her index finger along Sophia’s cheek, who made a soft sigh-yawn in response, one of her minuscule hands blindly reaching out. “Oh.” A tear slipped down Rosa’s cheek along with the soft exhalation.

“Are you ok, sweetie?”

She nodded, a few more tears falling. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” she finally said. “I’m just so happy.”

Kensi wordlessly wrapped her free arm around Rosa’s back, tugging her close

“We are too,” Deeks murmured, embracing Kensi, Rosa, and the twins. He tucked Rosa’s head under his chin, marveling at the family they’d created.

***

A/N: Did I just give Kensi an incredibly easy (relatively speaking in terms of speed and pain), if crazy birth experience? Why yes, I did.

I hope you enjoyed this little story!

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #Rosa #fluff #densi twins #it’s baby time #part 3 #ejzah fanfiction

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paranorahjones · 3 months

Text

it's super slow at work so i'm gonna rant about dating and a dream i had last night.

i hate dating. my feelings are extremely unpredictable when it comes to romantic interest and that basically means that i'm super picky. the few times that i've gone out with guys, all of them have been very interested in me from the start while i'm in a place of being unsure how i feel about them, because i didn't know any of them beforehand. personally, i'm not willing to drag things out for a long time on the off chance that my feelings will change. if i don't feel "it" almost immediately, i won't force myself to stay in an unbalanced dynamic. i feel it's incredibly unfair to the other person, and it will only make breaking it off more painful for them if they've caught serious feelings and i haven't. i've been on the receiving end of rejection for letting my feelings build up longer than i should have, and i hate hate hate the thought of putting someone else through that. so i break it off quickly.

the most recent time i went out with a guy, which was a few months ago, he was very clearly catching feelings quickly. and he was very vocal about how much he liked me/enjoyed my company (but not in a creepy way). and unfortunately, i have so little experience with receiving so much words of affirmation that it scared the hell out of me. i never knew how to respond and i knew that i wasn't catching feelings, but sadly i think we could have been good friends in other circumstances.

he also made a few comments regarding my very visible adhd that made me feel . . . well, "fetishized" isn't the right word. but something akin to that. my various tics and adhd symptoms are pretty easy to spot if you know that i have adhd, and that did come up naturally in one of our earlier conversations. he made several comments about them along the lines of "that's so cute" and it never sat right with me. i don't think he had any malicious intent at all, he was always really sweet in our conversations and i think he just didn't know how it came across. unfortunately i wasn't brave enough to bring up how it made me feel; it was something else that i had never experienced before and i didn't know how to respond to it.

all that to say, for the short time that we went out together, our dynamic always felt deeply unbalanced. just like the last two times i'd gone out with someone. and i just couldn't stay in that with the vague hope that it would balance itself out.

it's made me realize that for me to actually get into a serious relationship one day, it's going to take a very specific kind of dynamic (and very specific kind of man) for me to really want to pursue that. it's almost certainly going to have to stem from a pre-existing friendship. platonic connections are so important to me and i need to have a very strong one in place before a romantic connection can start.

onto the dream that i had last night.

it was really vivid and unusual for me. it was one of those dreams that you wake up from and think "that's going to make me sad for the rest of the day." and it has.

i dreamed of a man asking me out. i can still picture what he looked like, slightly older than me with very dark hair but a few silvery streaks, like he was greying early (sidebar, i hope i go grey early because i always think it looks beautiful on others). he had soft blue eyes and a gentle voice and a very genuine smile. in the dream i had the feeling that i knew of him previously, but i didn't really know him. and that was a big deal, because when he asked me out i felt completely safe in saying yes. i think we went out to dinner and just spent the evening together. i can't really remember the details but i remember feeling safe and "perfectly, incandescently happy". it felt like we were balanced, equal. it felt like i'd found someone i'd been looking for for a long time. i even remember his name.

i woke up and felt that absence immediately.

stuff like that leaves me in such a place. because it helps to narrow down exactly what i hope to find in a future relationship, but it's also of course an aching reminder of what i haven't found yet, what i'm not sure i'll ever find.

anyways. the yearning levels are off the charts again today. and all i can do about it is overshare on tumblr dot com.

#i feel very sorry for anyone who tries to love me in the future #my responses to being loved are such a tangled mess of various unaddressed traumas subtly given to me by my family/people from my past #i promise i'm trying to heal

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 1 year

Text

Sick Elrond headcanons

Another list of hcs no one asked for, or wanted. Elrond x reader. I have no idea whether this is any good or not...

And now I have no excuse, I have to go working on the second part of A seal-skin around my shoulders.

*****

🤒 Even though he is fully immortal after choosing to be counted among the Elves, Elrond still suffers from some weaknesses common among the mortal races. He is as strong, fast and resilient as any Elf, wiser -and fairer- than most and doesn't tire easily after working or exercising for many hours, but he does get cold easily and occasionally falls sick.

🤒 Even though Middle Earth's most capable healers are Elves, the concept of illness is almost unknown among them; they also get injured less frequently than Men, since their bones and muscles are stronger.

🤒Half-Elven are a bit in the middle between the two races as far as health problems go. Elwing was the only woman with Elven blood who suffered from menstrual cramps, while Eärendil broke his leg in a riding accident when he was young and, while it healed perfectly, it kept occasionally paining him for the rest of his life. Elros was exceptionally vigorous -for a mortal- until the end of his life and never got sick, but he did find out he was allergic to certain aliments.

🤒 Elrond fell sick for the first time in his life as a child, when he spent a whole afternoon playing in the snow with his brother wearing only a light tunic. He started coughing a few hours later, told his mother he felt hot and funny, and when he woke up the next day, he was feverish. It only lasted for two days and his parents were more distressed at seeing him suffer than seriously worried for his health, but it was a very unpleasant and scary experience for the little Elf.

🤒 As we said, Elrond is sensitive to the cold, which is the reason why the fireplace in his rooms is lit until the beginning of summer, and he prefers wearing heavy capes and coats.

🤒 Even though many Elves at Gil-Galad's court look down on and even make fun of him and his origins, Elrond is not ashamed to be an Half-Elf; he likes the unique prospective on the two races his position affords him, and thinks that belonging to both makes him a more complete individual. Despite this, he is vaguely embarrassed of his -very occasional- bouts of sickness and tries his best not to show any discomfort, especially after he begins courting you.

🤒Being a full-blooded Elf, and having met very few mortals in your life, sickness is mostly an abstract concept for you; once you cut your arm deeply with a knife, which was an extremely painful and unpleasant experience, but that had been the only time in your life you had had to consult an healer.

🤒 Because of this, the first time you hear Elrond sneeze, on a cold winter day -you are having a pleasant walk in the woods, far away enough from the palace to enjoy some time alone- you remain flabbergasted for a moment. "Is everything all right, dearest?"

🤒 "I am all right, thank you; merely an... itching on my nose." he lies, already blaming himself. It must be the coldest day of the winter, and he should have proposed to stay in your rooms enjoying tea, or to listen to you playing your flute, but when you expressed a desire to walk in the woods to admire the snowy landscape, he did not have the heart to refuse. He did wear his warmest cape, and even a scarf, but apparently it was not enough "Do not worry for me, please. So, your friend has asked you to teach the flute to her daughter?"

🤒He enjoys your time together as he always does, but by the time you return home he is shivering, and he is forced to breathe through his mouth. He does his utmost to pretend he is fine because he doesn't want you to worry, but he is relieved when you are forced to leave him for your first flute lesson with your new pupil, and he is free to drink a hot tea as he warms himself in front of the fire.

🤒He had hoped that the chill was just an unpleasant sensation, but the next day he wakes up shivering, with a sore throat and the feeling he has been hit in the face with a brick: he has fallen sick, again. Fortunately, he doesn't have any pressing task to attend to, but he has only two days left to finish writing a speech of the utmost importance for the High King.

🤒 Elrond forces himself out of bed -it is so cold! Why does his room seem to have moved to the middle of the Caradhras?- lights the fire and drags himself to his desk, on whose surface many scrolls and papers are strewn. He forces himself to focus, but it is no use: he can barely sit, let alone write, and all the ideas he had to finish the speech have almost completely disappeared. What did he plan to write about again? There were a couple things he must mention, but he cannot for the life of him concentrate enough to decide how to express them...

🤒Even with the fire crackling next to his desk and a heavy cape on his shoulders, he is so cold! He has skipped breakfast, and last night at dinner he had barely touched his food, but the simple idea of eating makes him nauseous. He has truly and fully gotten sick, he recognizes with a sigh; if only his detractors at court could see him now...

🤒For the rest of the morning Elrond does his best to get at least a bit of work done, hoping that tomorrow he will feel better and be able to correct his mistakes; he alternates between the desk and his bed, resting for a while before returning to the speech, and then he uses a closed book as a base to write on, moving all his scrolls and inkwell on the bed table and sitting with the pillow behind his back. He feels terrible, his head swimming, but he is determined to carry on despite his fever, and then, he promises himself, he will sleep as long as he needs to. He must have a slight fever, that is all, nothing to worry about; he will rest, tomorrow he will feel much better, and no one needs to know what he is going through.

🤒 He is startled when he hears knocking on the door... and then your voice, from the other side. "Elrond, are you there? May I come in?"

🤒Oh, no!, he moans; he has completely forgotten you were supposed to meet for lunch today, as you have done once a week for the three months you have been courting. How could it slip his mind? He loves your lunches together, and he had also rescheduled another engagement so that you could meet today. He must have left you waiting in the banquet hall for at least an hour!

🤒If Elrond felt horrible until a minute ago, it is nothing compared to the shame and the guilt that fill his heart now; what if you decide that you don't want to see him ever again? And even worse, you keep knocking on the door asking to be let in, which means that you are going to see him in this terrible state...

🤒In the end, not wanting to offend you more than he already has, he invites you to enter... and he sees you open your eyes wide when you see him in bed, paler than you thought it was possible for an Elf to look, shaking and looking almost too weak to sit.

🤒"Oh, Eru, Elrond! What is happening to you?!" you cry, and he manages a smile, not wanting to scare you. "I am just sick; you need not worry..."

🤒 Those words fall on deaf ears, because you are immediately concerned. What does it mean, he is sick? Is he hurt? Is his life in danger? You do not care about the risk of being infected, you tell him as you close the room's door behind you and quickly approach; is there anything you can do? Why didn't he tell you he was unwell? Has this happened because you insisted on a walk in the woods yesterday? "Oh, Elrond, I am so sorry... forgive me, it is all my fault..."

🤒You look so scared and remorseful, as if you had put him in a life-threatening situation, and Elrond cannot help laughing - which is incredibly painful, given the state of his throat. "Again, there is no need for alarm, or for apologies." he gently explains as he takes your hand in both of his; he is still so sorry for forgetting you were meant to meet, but seeing you makes him feel better - or at least happy "I should be the one asking for your forgiveness, since I left you having lunch on your own. And please, do not worry; I only have a cold, it will last for a day or two."

🤒 "So... you are not going to pass away?" "Of course not! Believe me, I have already fallen ill a few times in my life; it is unpleasant, and bothersome, but not dangerous, at least for me." he reassures you, and then he sneezes again, as he has done countless times during the day "As you can see, I can work; let me be, I promise we will have our lunch soon."

🤒 He is clearly trying to get rid of you, although not because he doesn't appreciate your company, but you have no intention to leave him alone: your poor beloved is clearly suffering, and even though he will recover in a few days, and you have no experience as a nurse, you will do everything you can to support and help him.

🤒First of all, and despite his protestations, you send for the court's healer, more experienced in assisting soldiers wounded on the battlefield and women in labour, but who is nonetheless capable to prepare a concoction to lower his fever and give Elrond some relief against his sore throat and nausea. "There is no reason to worry. The thing he needs the most is rest, and avoid unnecessary exertion; will you be staying until tonight, (name)?" he asks.

🤒"There is no need, really..." Elrond protests; "Of course I will." you quickly answer, ignoring him, and the healer gives you some simple instructions: keep Elrond in bed, have him drink his medicine every two hours, and send for some light food if he feels he can eat.

🤒You prepare for the task with the same earnestness and dedication of a nurse whose patient is fighting for their life; to know that Elrond's ailment is not serious and he will indeed recover soon is a huge relief, but you are determined to remain by his side until then, even just to keep him company. For two full days you sit next to your beloved's bed, adding another two blankets to his bed and then, when he is overheated, washing his face with a wet cloth to give him some relief. You use an hourglass to calculate the time between a dose of medicine and the other, and prepare his favorite tea; your poor beloved's musical voice is reduced to a pained whisper, given how sore his throat is, his stomach cannot keep even a simple soup or some bread down, and try as he might, he is soon forced to abandon his work on the King's speech, spending most of the time curled up in bed, awake but too weak to do anything.

🤒You feel powerless, wishing you could really do something to comfort him; it is the first time you see someone suffering in a way different from a broken limb or a battle wound, and while you are happy to stay with your beloved for as long as he needs you to, sleeping on a chair next to his bed, your heart breaks for him, and for his suffering.

🤒The truth is, your presence is enough to make Elrond feel better. He has always appreciated your company, even when he was too shy to express his feelings, but now to have you next to him is even more precious. You read and play your flute for him, bring him food and medicine, and sit quietly next to the bed with a book as he rests.

🤒On the other hand, he is embarrassed to be seen under such an unflattering light, and that you have to take care of him as a nurse would do, or a mother with a child; you assure him that you don't mind, and try to offer him as much relief as you can. You also need to help him reach the pot behind the screen in a corner of the room, or to take away the basin after he feels sick. Not only you know Elrond would do the same and then some if you were the one feeling ill, but there is no more natural feeling than taking care of the people you love, and since this is exactly what you feel for him, assisting him is not a burden for you, quite the opposite.

🤒You ask him whether this is the first time he has fallen sick since you met, and he sheepishly admits it is not; he has had a fever, or a cold, and in some cases both things together like now, three or four times in the many years of your friendship. "Do you remember that time I sent you a note telling you I had had to leave on an urgent mission for the King, and only returned five days later? Well... it was a lie; I had gotten sick again, and spent those days in the infirmary; I begged the healer not to tell anyone."

🤒"Why wouldn't you tell me?" you ask, and Elrond smiles - a sad, rueful smile, that makes him look even more vulnerable. "Not everyone at court is as... understanding and sympathetic as you are; the first times the news spread at court that I was ill, instead of well-wishers, I got mocked for my perceived frailty... and I even got accused of not being a full Elf, since maladies are a... prerogative of mortal races. Which is true, obviously, but still..."

🤒"... and you think I would also mock you?" you ask in disbelief; you know there are a number of Elves at court who look down on Elrond and make fun of him for his mortal blood, and you have lost count of the number of times you have intervened to defend him, but this time, even more than outraged, you are incredulous, and hurt "That I would think less of you because you are subject to illness?"

🤒Elrond's silence and ashamed expression are answer enough; he covers his mouth with an hand as he coughs, and then accepts the cup you have just poured his medicine in, since the tiny grains of sand have just finished trickling to the lower chamber of the hourglass. He drinks, winces at the horrible taste, and then looks at you. "I didn't want you to think I was... weak, and feeble, since all it took to overwhelm me was a cold day; it is childish, I know, but we haven't courted long, and... and your previous intended was one of the court's most capable and respected warriors..."

🤒Sitting on the side of the bed with his hand in yours, you reassure Elrond that being sick is not a fault and, even if it were, you would never blame him for something he cannot help. "And if you want to know, my last courtship ended because my intended was more interested in his sword than in me; you would act that way, even though your duties as the King's herald are much more important than his. We may have courted only for a season, but I know you well enough that you could never lose my respect, as well my... my affection."

🤒It is another word you were going to use, and even though you lacked the courage to, now both you and your intended are blushing, and smiling. "I don't want you to think that you have to hide things from me; even those that make you sad, or ashamed; I will always be on your side, Elrond, and taking care of you will never be a burden." you whisper, and he nods, wordlessly, his beautiful dark eyes full of gratitude.

🤒"Is it..." you begin, and then you go on, knowing he won't make fun of you for an admittedly foolish question; on the other hand, he is the only person you can ask, since there are no mortals at court "Is it unpleasant, to be sick?" Elrond looks at you. "Well, do you not remember when you cut your arm with a knife?" Obviously you remember, and you remember how terrible it was, but it is different; you want to understand how it is to have the pain come from inside you, invisible, without loss of blood or broken bones, your body fighting against an invisible enemy trying to overwhelm it. It is scary; but at the same time, fascinating.

🤒Elrond smiles, his earlier embarrassment and shame already forgotten. "You are making it more noble than it actually is; it is... I wouldn't know how to describe it to someone who is unable to experience it. It is like not being myself anymore; as if my body is crying for help. I know not every illness is deadly and I am much more resistant than any Man, but... it is as if I am being touched by Death, without actually experiencing it."

🤒Silence fills the room as you both reflect on those words. You have always known Elrond is an Half-Elf, and far from considering it a flaw or feeling your esteem for him lessened because of it, you simply thought it was one of the many things making him special and unique; still, you never really thought about the implications. Had he made a different choice, had he decided to follow his brother's example and be counted among the Edain, his life would have been very different, and maybe he would have passed away before the two of you had the chance to meet. Why did he choose to be an Elf, instead of a Man? Did he feel there was too much to see, to experience and to learn, in the world, to limitate himself to a few hundred years? Or was he scared of what awaited him after his death...?

🤒You feel this is not the right moment to discuss such a personal and delicate matter, assuming such a moment actually exists, but it nonetheless makes look at your beloved with new eyes... a frailty which is not due to his temperament or lack of will, that runs through his veins, an heritage he still carries inside him despite his choice and the immortality that has already afforded him a much longer lifespan than any lineage of Men. In the depth of your heart, you know you love him already, and you will love him for the rest of your life, for this as well as many other reasons: his existing midway between two realities, belonging to two races and at the same time being different from anyone else, his having lost as well as gained so much because of his choice: the possibility to feel pain, and to be reminded of how fleeting life is, and how precious because of it.

🤒Elrond begins feeling better after two days of bedrest, and another one later he is back to his old self, healthy and full of energy; he insists that it is you he has to thank for it, even though all you did was serve him tea and the medicine the healer had prepared, and keep him entertained. You celebrate together with a lunch in your rooms, and from that day on you do your best to avoid him falling ill again: in winter, you favor spending time inside so that he does not catch cold, and for his anniversary you gift him an heavy cape. You know Elrond is -usually- capable to look after himself and his health and does not deserve, or need, to be treated like a child, but he secretly enjoys you taking care of him.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @elvenenby.

#The Lord of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power #The Rings of Power #Rings of Power #Elrond #Elrond Peredhel #Robert Aramayo #Bellona's stuff

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bluegekk0 · 6 months

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So how exactly did Zote get into this AU? I feel like I see him in quite a bit of the artwork. I feel like none of the pale family wouldn't want to be around him, so is he just there and they can't get rid of him or is he like the one family member they all like to bully?

Well, if there's anything that brings together the family, it's trauma and emotional damage. And yes, Zote is extremely unpleasant, but I do believe there are things in his past that made him push everyone away and act like a jerk. And deep down, he's just as hurt as everyone else in the AU.

This might be a long one cause I also want to get into how each family member sees him, as I rarely get the chance to talk about Zote.

I guess I'll start with his past. I'm aware that he's 100% meant to be a joke character in the game, that much is clear from his portrayal, dialogue and his role in the game. But I think if you read into some of his precepts, they paint a pretty interesting picture. And yes, I'm also aware that he lies about himself all the time, but some of those are way too specific in my opinion. I'll start in the order of the precepts since that's how I wrote them down.

"Laughter spreads like a disease, and soon everyone is laughing at you." - sounds to me like he has some experience with being bullied. Looking at his fighting skills, or lack thereof, I don't think it's that unreasonable to think he would be a laughing stock for his peers.

"The past is painful, and thinking about your past can only bring you misery." - this one is a lot more vague, but it's clear that he doesn't have fond memories of his past.

"You can rely on nobody, and nobody will always be loyal." - if this is his mindset, it would explain why he's so unpleasant to everyone. He doesn't trust them, perhaps out of fear that they'll bully and make fun of him?

"Mothers Will Always Betray You" and "Fathers believe that because they created us we must serve them and never exceed their capabilities." - these two are, in my view, the heart of the problem. The way I interpret it, he was seen as a disappointment by his father, who wanted to control his life, and his mother did nothing to defend him. If you feel like not even your own parents value you, it's only reasonable that you'd grow bitter towards everyone. And in his case, he also deluded himself into thinking that he's better than what he's perceived as. Not the most healthy coping habit, for sure.

"Do not linger in the nest. There is nothing for you there." - and it's not surprising that you'd get the hell out of your home as soon as you could.

"If someone asks forgiveness of you, for instance a brother of yours, always deny it." - yeah, makes sense that he wouldn't want to forgive them. The brother here is most likely just an example, but maybe there's more to it than that?

I may be looking too hard into a meme character, but I really like the idea of him being an outcast that decided to cope with his trauma by being incredibly unpleasant and pushing everyone away. And it only makes sense that he'd find family in another group of outcasts that all cope with their own issues.

Now, I also want to mention that I don't see him as an old man like a lot of people call him. To me, he's probably in his species' equivalent of 20s. So still quite young, and thus with a lot of potential to heal and become a better person, which is an arc he goes through in the au. Albeit slowly, i mean, it's Zote after all.

---

As for how the rest of the family sees him:

Holly is their closest friend, so i'll start with them. Before Vyrm moved to Dirtmouth, they didn't have any familiar face that would talk to them. They desperately wanted someone to acknowledge their presence, and being talked to was, to them, exactly what they needed. Hornet was still very distant, she didn't really speak a lot, and in general it felt like she ignored them. Grimm, while much more open to conversations, was busy - at that point, he and the Troupe were still slowly preparing to go elsewhere to finish the interrupted ritual. So Holly had to find what they were looking for elsewhere - and it just so happens that a very talkative bug was right there, in the town. Of course, he was only talking about himself and lying through his teeth, but Holly didn't mind that. plus, they related to his wish to love up to his father's expectations. And over time, the pair became good friends, to the point that even Zote began to act a bit less unpleasant towards them. He wasn't used to having friends, so it was definitely a struggle for him.

Hornet hated him at first. He was irritating, simply put. She responded to him with mean things, which would often end in arguments between the two. But as time passed, and Zote became a honorary part of the family, her attitude changed a little - makes sense, she does soften a bit over the course of the AU. Their current dynamic is a bit sibling like. Well, the kind where one bullies the other, but is equally as defensive if anyone else tries to do the same. They still bicker all the time, it's inevitable as their personalities clash with each other, but there is a degree of understanding between them. Hornet can see through his lies easily, and relates to his wish to push everyone away as a response to trauma.

Vyrm, similarly, can also relate to some parts of Zote's past, mainly the desire to live up to his parents' expectations and to prove himself. But at the same time, he does find Zote's rambling to be a bit much. He tolerates his presence and even acts friendly towards him, and he definitely sees him as a member of the family, but they're not very close. Zote is a bit afraid of him since he was the one who first found him in Greenpath, and he can't get rid of the mental image of Vyrm covered in blood, ripping an animal to shreds. Especially since he's right about the size of what Vyrm usually hunts.

Grimm sees Zote as entertaining. He doesn't exactly bully him, that's not his style and he does feel pity towards him, but he enjoys hearing him make stuff up about various things. His tales from his travels are particularly amusing to Grimm, as they're almost always completely made up. Grimm likes to "fact-check" him, which usually ends in Zote struggling to keep his narrative and giving up. But since he's part of the family, it means Grimm is still protective of him. Even if Zote himself finds him unsettling and is afraid of being left alone with him hahaha

I love the idea of Zote finally accepting that there might still be family he could belong to, he spent all those years thinking he's better than that, but deep down he really needed to be a part of one. It just so happens that he got "adopted" by a bunch of traumatized freaks, but maybe that's exactly the kind of family he needed

#ask stuff #feral pk au #save #zote #holly #hornet #fpk #vyrm #grimm

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wangsejabin · 1 year

Text

Chapter 74

Pan'er did not know what had happened, except that someone from Cining Palace had personally sent the Crown Princess back.

She could not pretend to be dumb, so she asked Aunt Qing and the girls to help her pack up and go to the Hall of Virtue.

Fortunately, she had already completed her month-long confinement, so she could come out occasionally and not be bothered by anything.

In the Hall of Virtues, everyone was there except the Prince.

They didn't get to see the Crown Princess in person, as the doctor was still inside, and as the palace maids and eunuchs came and went, Pan'er wondered how the Crown Princess had been injured.

She had broken her leg, which was a general term, but to use the word broken must have been serious.

It was almost an incense stick before the Crown Princess had them called in, and when they entered it was Sister An of the Cining Palace who was planning to leave.

This Sister An was a member of the Empress Dowager's inner circle, and even the few heads of the palace had to respect her a little when they saw her.

"Crown Princess, you rest more, and in a few days the slave will visit you again on behalf of the Empress Dowager her elder."

"Sister take care, Fu Chun quickly see Sister off."

Passing by the crowd, Hu Liangdi Pan'er and the others all nodded and called out to Sister An, who smiled and nodded and soon left.

The room fell silent, probably because they were not close to the Crown Princess, and no one spoke for a while.

Pan'er subconsciously looked at Xu Liangyuan and saw a hint of embarrassment on her face, but it flickered away as Xu Liangyuan quickly went up to the Crown Princess and asked her questions.

The prince consort's expression was muted.

When Pan'er saw the two of them in this state, could it be that there was some conflict in the middle that she didn't know about that caused the two to fall out?

In fact, there was no conflict, but it was related to the incident with Liu Chenghui.

After that time, Xu Liang Yuan came to the Hall of Virtue less often, of course, this also had to do with the Crown Princess quietly nurturing her baby and not seeing many people, in general, the Crown Prince was not in the East Palace, there was no conflict, but after nearly a year of estrangement, in the end not as close as in the past.

After the Crown Prince returned to the capital, Xu Liangyuan became active again, and the two seemed to be back to their old ways, and Xu Liangyuan came to Jide Hall more often. But then the incident with Pan'er's delivery happened, and after that Xu Liang Yuan never came to the Hall of Virtue alone again.

"It's a small matter, but you've come to see me. I'm fine, my leg is not broken, just a fractured bone, it will heal after a while, you can all go back." The Prince Consort sat on the bed, her face a little pale, but extremely calm.

As she said this, she turned her gaze to Pan'er: "Especially Su Liang Di, you are still in your first month, it is better for you to go back and nurse your body well."

"Thank you for your compassion, it's just that the Crown Princess is injured, so the concubine has to come and take a look no matter what."

They both knew that each other's words were vague, but no one delved into them. The Crown Princess didn't take it seriously either, nodding her head and letting Fuqiu lead them down.

Only when they had gone did the Crown Princess look pained and cold sweat come out on her forehead.

"Crown Princess ......" Fu Xia was on the side, so distressed that she wiped her tears.

"Okay, it's really nothing, it's lucky I didn't break my leg, this injury is actually quite minor." The Prince Consort's eyes were half-lidded as she rubbed her injured leg, seemingly thinking about something, a thoughtful look on her face.

Fu Xia disagreed, a bump on the bone hurt, let alone a bone fracture, and the old adage that it took a hundred days for a broken leg to heal was not wrong.

But she could not say anything, she could only silently wipe her tears away and ask the young palace maid to go and remind her that the pain relief medicine was ready.

At the other end, a group of people walked out of the Hall of Virtue.

It seemed that the air had become cold all of a sudden, and the sky and earth were in a depression, even the Forbidden City could not help but be covered with a layer of grey and brown.

Aunt Qing had disapproved of Pan'er coming out today because it was very windy, so she wrapped her up tightly in a cloak before coming out, only showing her face outside.

"Su Liangdi, why are you walking so fast? People who don't know think you're in a hurry to go do something." Although it was windy outside and she had added a cloak, she wasn't wrapped up as tightly as Pan'er was.

Pan'er smiled lightly, "Sister Hu is always making jokes about me, knowing what kind of situation I am in now."

"You're still in your first month, so I've been a bit inconsiderate," Hu Liangdi murmured, then changed her tone and said, "I'm just saying, I'm not going to say anything. "

Is this an attempt to draw her in, or to unite her in a united front? Is it possible that Hu Liangdi is also aware of the crisis?

This is certainly not something Pan'er would ask, but she does not mind communicating with Hu Liang Di, after all, there are never permanent enemies in the palace, and she and Hu Liang Di have no major conflicts, at least on the surface.

"I'm not really sure what I think, but I'm a fool, and I'm not as well-informed as sister because I'm locked up in the courtyard all day and see only the four corners of the sky. But I do think that the Prince Consort is becoming more and more like a Prince Consort, which is good, because the Prince Consort should be virtuous and generous, so that the concubines below can have a good life, and we can all live in harmony, and the Prince can have less worries."

After saying this, Pan'er nodded to Hu Liangdi and said, "I won't stay any longer, the wind outside is really strong, and you know that I can't afford to let the wind blow on me at this moment, so I'll leave first."

Soon Pan'er and her group disappeared from the sight of Hu Liangdi and the others.

Ruyi was shivering a little as the wind blew against her, but Hu Liangdi still looked thoughtful.

The group slowly walked back to the courtyard, and when they entered the courtyard door, Ruhua said, "Master, allow the servant girl to judge, that Su Liangdi is clearly perfunctory, not a single useful word."

Hu Liangdi glanced at her, "What do you know." Saying that, she entered the house before stopping her steps.

It was not until she sat down in the house and had the hot tea in her hands that Ruhua found the time to speak,

"But the servant really didn't hear anything useful she said."

"If you could hear it, wouldn't you be a master too?" After a pause, Hu added, "I didn't expect this person to be wise, even though she is a bit young. But also, if she wasn't smart, she would have been eaten alive by the Crown Princess, and she would never have given birth to auspicious twin and become my equal? You may look at her words as if they are ordinary, but if you think about it, you can find the meaning."

"The fact that she said she was dull was self-effacing, and that she spent her days looking at that piece of the four-sided sky was not as well-informed as I was, was telling me that what I knew, she actually knew too. The Crown Princess is becoming more and more like the Crown Princess, is saying that the purpose behind this change in the Crown Princess, including the rest of the words are echoing this sentence. The Crown Princess is virtuous, so that the Eastern Palace will be harmonious and His Highness will be happy."

"I heard from my father that His Majesty has already agreed to allow His Highness to participate in the government, it is not convenient to cause trouble at this time, and whoever causes trouble is breaking His Highness's taboo, so from now on, you should all calm down, and if you can't hold your temper, you should not go out, don't cause trouble outside and say that I am not protecting you as the master. "

At the end of the sentence, it became a reprimand to the servants, but Ruhua and the girls knew the importance of the matter and answered in unison, adding that they would definitely remind the people below them.

"I can't tell, she knows all this information, this woman cannot be underestimated." Hu Liangdi murmured as she touched her nails.

Ru Yan interjected from the side, "Then master, how will we treat her in the future?"

Hearing this, Hu Liang Di raised her eyebrows and glanced at her, "Your master is a Liang Di, she is also a Liang Di, she has a son who gave birth to an auspicious son, your master doesn't have a son yet, what attitude do you think you should have towards her?"

Ru Yan suddenly wilted and said aggressively, "Slave servant is just afraid of doing something wrong, so she purposely asked one more question."

"All right, it won't be long before she moves across the street, so be polite from now on, maybe I can even join forces with her, otherwise judging from this movement of the Crown Princess, we may all have to suffer greatly in the future."

---

Hu Liangdi did not know that Pan'er's words were partly a combination of events from her previous life, and she would not have known that Emperor Cheng'an had agreed to the Prince's entry into the court.

The Prince had been visiting her and her two children a lot these days, but mostly during the day and in a hurry, and Pan'er could see that he was busy, but she didn't know what he was doing.

The prince was reluctant to talk to her about it too. On the whole, the Prince was not one to discuss matters of dynastic affairs with a woman. His way of doing things was more like, he took care of all the external arrangements, and all you had to do was eat, drink, raise your children and dress beautifully, and make him feel happy and relaxed when he came to visit you.

In a previous life, Pan'er envied her daughter-in-law, Fang Fengsheng.

Feng Sheng was already smart and was brought up as a son by her family, and when she and Yue Er first met, the two of them fought with each other in a battle of wits, and only afterwards did they find harmony. Therefore, when there was something going on in the Wei Wangfu, Yue'er never hid anything from her, and she was also able to help him with some matters very well, whether it was in the palace or in the imperial government.

Pan'er felt that this was how a couple should be, in order to truly share the same heart and soul.

But envy is envy, for one thing, she did not feel she was the wife of the Jianping Emperor, not even in those ten years afterwards, when Empress Chen had been sent to the cold palace and His Majesty had favoured her for a long time; for another, she was not that kind of person.

In her previous life, when outsiders mentioned the Empress Dowager, they always thought that she must be a woman with a deep heart and ruthless tactics to be able to sit in this position, and many people were scared and trembling even before they saw her.

It may be because she was lucky, or because she knew how to keep a low profile, but it was also partly due to the Emperor's intentional care.

At the time, she didn't feel it, but occasionally she would look back on those decades and see that without his care, she would have been gone long ago, and that she could have remained in the palace, thinking that she was quietly blooming in a corner, attracting the admiration of those who pity flowers?

That was a joke. Looking back on her life saving tactics in the past, they were so poor that they were unbearable.

Since the Prince would not tell her, Pan'er felt that there was no need for her to know.

Hu Liangdi's meaning was clear: she too smelled a crisis after the change in the Crown Princess and wanted to bring her into the fold. But it was still too early to talk about it, after all, it would take some time for the Crown Princess to recover from her injuries. Rather than dwelling on these unnecessary matters now, she should first think about when she will move the courtyard.

After all, moving is not a trivial matter, and it will get colder in a few days, so it will be even harder to move. So even though Pan'er was still sitting inside, she had already ordered Xiang Pu to start packing her things.

The storage room in the small courtyard was already inadequate, so much so that one could not even fit one's legs into it, but now that the courtyard has been changed, there are two large storage rooms in the courtyard, enough for Pan'er to put her and her two children's things in.

After the storehouse was moved, there were some odds and ends, which were easy to move, and it only took two days to pack up. Once Xiang Pu and the others had finished setting up the main room, Pan'er moved there with her two children the same day.

It was because the day had become colder and colder since the beginning of October, and as there was no floor dragon in the small courtyard, only charcoal braziers could be burned, but for children as young as Yue-er and Chou-chou, burning too many charcoal braziers could lead to fire, and as there was a floor dragon in the courtyard, the early move was a relief.

As a rule, celebrations of the housewarming should always be held, but Pan'er was not yet out of the confinement, so naturally it was not to be held. Instead, the servants were given an extra month's salary as a reward for their hard work during the past few months.

The congratulatory gifts came from the Hall of Virtue, followed by gifts from Hu Liang Di and Xu Liang Yuan.

Pan'er thought about it and sent back some gifts, mostly local things she had brought back from Jiangnan, which were not worth much, but were new and innovative. When she first returned to the capital, she had sent some to various places, and this time she sent some again, but she chose some that were not available last time.

The gift was added to what Hu Liangdi and the others had, and she also had Bai Jue go with her to thank the Crown Princess for her congratulatory gift.

This was the first time Pan'er has given a gift to the Crown Princess. In the past, the Crown Princess gave her something as a reward, but now it is a gift. It is natural that there is a return, a gift, and it also shows that Pan'er's status has changed, so naturally things are different from before.

As the first thin snow of the year falls on the Forbidden City, Pan'er was finally out of the confinement.

#mtl #yingchong

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sage-the-unwise · 1 year

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I wanna hear some thoughts on my pathetic baby loser failson (beloved) five pebbles

oh hell yeah i love hate love this guy and i have SO many thoughts

so, some fun hcs for starters (only one and a half of which pertain to him in canon, the others are just vague sketches of what his vibe is like):

he would like tame impala but only partially in a male manipulator way

if he were a smoker i think he'd vape and then switch to menthols (something tells me he'd be the kind of guy to start smoking because he thinks it looks cool)

hes transmasc coded. real he/they energy

his construction suffered pretty extreme budget cuts due to the political controversy surrounding his placement over the Anointed Citadel (there was a defund five pebbles campaign led by the spiritual leaders there lmao) and thus he is noticeably smaller than the other iterators

he'd be a pretty great poet, and would make a killing in clout off posting poetry to instagram if that existed in rain world lmao (if his iterator comrades appreciated it, he'd post poetry to one of their global message boards, but not many of them care for artistic pursuits. he'd get a temp ban for wasting space)

if you dug through enough pearls in garbage wastes you'd find the equivalent of amateur tumblr poetry from 2012, all written (and some partially scrambled) by pebs himself. before moon's collapse, NSH made it a project to get their hands on some of it so they could make fun of him by reading it aloud in vc. that never panned out

pebs and NSH would've collabed to produce shitty soundcloud rap, but they'd have a falling out over the duo's artistic direction and they'd split up. pebs would try to produce his own backing tracks, fail at it, and give up, and NSH would go on to make insane 120 bpm hyperpop you could mosh to and open for 100 gecs

and now for some sad character analysis:

i think pebs has like, very big feelings and not a great grip on how to handle them. he isn't maliciously selfish but he experiences his own pain as so all consuming that he forgets that his actions affect other people and simply follows his impulses without much thought. this obviously doesn't excuse his actions - he's harmed his friends in some very real, tangible and painful ways and they should hold him accountable for that (were i to write a 5p recovery arc he would definitely get taken to task by the others, who are also Messy. it would perhaps be a very dramatic fight, but i think if their heads were clear enough and moon had some means of communicating with them you could get a good approximation of what restorative justice might look like for a bunch of alien supercomputers).

it's also implied that he's like the baby of the group, or is at least younger, and therefore has had less time to get to know everyone else and establish himself as part of the local group's regular social dynamic, so i would imagine he has insecurities about that which might fuel his impulse to isolate when he feels Bad. which was, of course, disastrous on one particular occasion. i think he feels deep guilt over that and it's eating him (like the rot), but he has no idea how to express his remorse, or that the person he killed has been revived and can be talked to directly (if only via slugcat messenger). i've always read moon as someone who, in pursuit of being the group big sister/mom friend, learned to repress her feelings in order to preserve group cohesion at all costs. i think a conversation between the two of them would either be really explosively messy (timeline where moon learns to let herself feel things and be angry) or it would have the longest silences you've ever heard (timeline where moon does not learn to stop repressing her emotions). either way it would take a while for them to make peace with each other, but i think they could pull it off. neither of them want to spend the rest of eternity lonely and bitter.

#rain world #rainworld #rain world game #rw five pebbles #five pebbles #rw iterators #iterator #sorry that took me like 5000 years to answer i've been in trapped in a hole filled with various papers i have to write #and also im incredibly burnt out lmao #thanks for sending me an ask btw!! i've missed drafting silly hcs abt rain world :)#wisdom of the sage

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iwritesickfic · 1 year

Text

fic request from @choiia for cold denial! featuring Seamus and Theo.

When Theo wakes up the first thing he registers is how much his throat is killing him. It was sore yesterday too, but he assumed that was just from all the recording he's been doing the past week. It's now obvious that wasn't the case. This is more than just overuse, it's the kind of pain that makes him dread having to swallow.

The second thing he notices is how sweaty and weak and feverish he feels - and there's really no other way to describe it than feverish. Shivery and too warm all at once.

The third thing that hits him is the throbbing pain and fullness in his head. His sinuses feel swollen and he can already feel his nose starting to leak onto his upper lip. He sniffles, and feels just how much congestion has built up overnight.

He looks over at the other side of the bed where Seamus lies. He's still asleep, and Theo's glad, because if he were already awake he would no doubt be worried over it.

Seamus is amazing at taking care of people, and Theo's grateful because he tends to need a lot of caretaking, but it doesn't mean he wants his boyfriend to always be on high alert.

On a normal day, being sick would be annoying, but today it's sort of unacceptable. He’s performing at some award show tonight. He has soundcheck at 4. And currently he's not sure if he can even speak, let alone sing. And of course if Seamus finds out, he's going to insist he see a doctor or stay home or do something else that while probably smart isn't possible.

So before Seamus can wake up, he forces himself out of bed and into the shower, testing his voice softly while the warm water washes away a night of feverish sweat. He should probably be taking a cold shower if anything, but even now he's shaking with vague chills, so he settles for frustratingly lukewarm. The steam loosens up some of the blockage in his sinuses, which while a relief, is making his nose stream. His voice doesn't sound incredible either, but some tea and cough drops should get it performing reasonably well by 4. He's performed sick plenty of times, many of them far sicker than he is now, so he knows he can do it. A small part of him does wish he could just climb back into bed and rest his shivery, aching body, but he brushes the thought away. It's not possible, he's under contract.

By the time he gets out, gets dressed in one of Seamus's t-shirts, and walks downstairs to the kitchen, Seamus is sitting at the island, scribbling something in a notebook, his laptop open in front of him. He's still in pajamas, his hair still tousled from bed. He’s even still in his glasses, which Theo would normally find extremely sexy if he wasn’t in so much pain.

"Morning," he says without looking up, and Theo starts to fill the electric kettle.

"Morning." He winces at the sound of his voice - hoarse and broken in places - and the pain that speaking causes. Seamus looks up at him, eyebrows already furrowed in concern.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just woke up. And it's been a long week." He was hoping it would improve a little since he first got up but it still sounds just as fucked as before. He clears his throat and sniffles.

"Are you making tea?" Theo nods, grabbing a mug from the shelf over the counter. "Good, would you make me some?"

"Shit, are you sick too?" He doesn't even realize he's made a mistake til the words leave his mouth. "I mean, are you sick?" He tries to save, but Seamus just sighs. He looks up from his computer.

"You're sick?" Theo takes his time looking at their collection of tea bags.

"No, no. Definitely not. I don't - I have no idea why I said that," he says, but Seamus gets up, walks around the counter and wraps his arms around him from behind. His arms are warm, and it’s only then Theo realizes how cold he feels.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and the feeling of Seamus's arms around him makes Theo want to confess, but he bites his tongue.

"Mhm." He tries to go back to making the tea, but let's out a heavy sigh when he feels Seamus lay a kiss on his cheek. It's the kind of kiss he always uses when he's checking for a fever - lingering and gentle.

"You're hot," he says, and steps to the side so only one of his arms is slung around Theo's waist.

"Thanks, I know. So are you." Seamus offers him a little smile. "I just showered, it's probably that."

"It's ok if you're not feeling well. You can tell me." Theo takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking.

"There's no point talking about it. Even if I was." He clears his throat and sniffles in a way he hopes isn't suspicious. "Which I'm not."

"Well sick or not, your voice sounds fried." He hesitates, but Theo doesn't answer. "You can't sing tonight."

"I have to. It's contractual."

"No, I mean, you'll have to lip sync." Theo shakes his head and turns back to the counter where the water's started to boil. He drops two lemon tea bags into the mugs.

"You know I don't lip sync."

"Well I don't think they'll let you actually sing with how you sound right now, baby." He fills the mugs and adds honey to Seamus's.

"I'm drinking tea, it'll be fine." He turns around and hands one mug to Seamus. He hopes he can't tell how much his hands are still trembling.

"Sure about that?" He asks, voice playful while still serious.

"I'm sure," he says, and takes a sip of the still almost too hot tea. It feels harsh on his already sore throat.

Seamus puts down his mug and puts a hand on his cheek. It’s cold on his feverish skin.

"You know it's because I love you." Theo closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of his cool palm.

"I know." He gives him a kiss on the forehead, lips just as cold as his hand, then pulls away.

The day is fairly easy - some meetings, a fitting for a suit - but by the time he's supposed to get ready for soundcheck he's feeling considerably worse. His head is throbbing in time with his heart, his teeth practically chattering with fever chills. It's going to take a lot of foundation to cover up how red and raw his nose is from the constant wiping and blowing, which he's assured everyone who even looks at him is only "allergies." His thoughts are cloudy and unfocused, blurred from his soaring temperature.

He's pounding ibuprofen and tea and cough drops, but none of it seems to be helping much. His throat is raw, his body's aching, and now he'll have to explain to the director and the producers and everybody else why his voice sounds like absolute shit.

When he arrives at the venue, he's led by a PA through a maze of corridors until he's up on stage. They point to his marks on the floor, and he tries to pay attention, but he's so sick he can barely focus. People are talking at him, and he just nods and smiles.

Music starts to play, and he can hear it in his earpiece. It's aggravating his headache, but he tries to put all his energy into sounding as decent as he can. He sings a few lines before someone calls cut, and the director starts muttering to whoever's next to him. His throat hurts from that alone, and he's starting to rethink his lip syncing policy.

Finally, the director comes up to him.

"Do you need some time to warm up?" He asks, and Theo runs at his dripping nose with one of the many crumpled tissues in his pocket.

"Sorry, I'm just… I've been recording this week and I…" He sniffles, "I've been having some allergies."

The director nods.

"Ok. Well in that case, I think we'll need to use the track. Is that ok with you?" Theo knows it's not really a question, and that if he sings live he's going to do an awful job, but the thought of lip syncing is nerve wracking.

"I'm just a little… I don't want the track to like…" He's so ill he can barely formulate his thoughts, but the idea seems to get across.

"We do it all the time, don't worry. Nobody will know a thing," he says, and Theo just nods. "Ok, great."

They do a few run throughs of the blocking, with him singing along to the track, and by the time they're done he feels like he could pass out. He grabs a paper cup of tea from craft services before getting in the car that'll take him back to the apartment to get dressed with Seamus before they walk a red carpet, and Theo goes on stage for real.

His throat is so sore that swallowing is bringing tears to his eyes, so he takes tiny sips of tea and tries to pull himself together before he sees Seamus.

As soon as he walks into the apartment, he's overwhelmed. People are bustling around - makeup artists, security, hair stylists, his manager Zeke - it's too much for his feverish brain to process at once. He's only pulled back to reality when he feels Seamus's warm, steady hand on his shoulder.

"Teddy," he starts, his voice quiet, and Theo takes a deep breath through his chapped lips. His head is too full of sickness for him to breathe through his nose. Before Seamus can finish his thought, Theo leans into him, curling against his chest, tucking his face against Seamus's throat. The arms that wrap around him feel so incredibly, impossibly good. He almost wants to cry. He's so exhausted, he's so sick, he's so fucking miserable. "Oh, my love…," Seamus trails off.

Theo gives himself another ten seconds to rest - counts down in his head - before making himself stand up straight.

"I'm… I'm fine," he mumbles, and Seamus pushes his damp hair off his forehead. It seems like no one has noticed he's here yet, they're all too busy rushing around. The worry on Seamus's face is acute.

"We can figure something out," he says, voice still quiet. Theo shakes his head, and Seamus rests his hand on his cheek. "We can."

"No, it's… I'll be ok. Let's just get it over with," he mumbles back, and he's aware of how ridiculous it sounds coming out of his mouth - his voice hoarse and wavering.

"You're burning, Theo, I don't think-" He's cut off as Zeke walks over to them. He does a double take at Theo's appearance and sets his jaw.

"Let's get you into hair and makeup, ok?" he asks, and Theo nods. Seamus's mouth hangs open, incredulous.

"Z -" Zeke cuts him off before he can finish.

"I know, I know, but it's just a couple hours. It's… They've been running ads since last month."

Theo sniffles and walks over to the chair that's surrounded by all the beauty supplies. He can hear Seamus and Zeke arguing in the background, but his immediate focus is on the hands that are fussing with his hair and his face. His head is throbbing again, and he can almost feel the fever climbing back up from where it was pushed down to with the extra strength ibuprofen.

"Try to stay still," one of the people touching his face says and he swallows hard. He couldn't stop shaking if he tried.

"S-sorry, I'm… I have allergies," he manages to say. Then Seamus is in front of him, squatting, taking his hand.

"You want some tea?" he asks, and Theo almost nods before remembering he's supposed to be still.

"Yes," he says, and Seamus squeezes his hand before disappearing again. Then Zeke is handing him a couple of white tablets, which he takes without question. They hurt going down, but he hopes they'll make this all at least a little more bearable.

The rest of the prep is a blur, and before he really knows what's going on he's in the car, in a suit, with Seamus next to him. He feels a little better - whatever Zeke gave him must have kicked in - and he hopes it lasts until after his performance.

The red carpet is another chaotic blur of sounds and lights and sensations, and he finds himself fixated on his body. Is he sweating too much? Is he standing up straight enough? Can everyone tell how miserable he is? Is his fake smile convincing enough?

Then there's a kiss goodbye from Seamus and he's ushered backstage, then into a changing room where he puts on whatever he's supposed to be wearing for the performance, and then he's on stage.

Surprisingly, he's able to hit his marks and remember the lyrics, and when he's done he hopes the whole thing was convincing enough, but mostly, he's just relieved to be done. It's been the day from hell and all he wants to do is go home and lay down next to Seamus.

When he walks off stage, Zeke is there, handing him another paper cup of tea.

"Was it ok?" Theo asks, and Zeke rubs his upper arm.

"It was great. Now let's get you home, alright?" Theo just nods and follows Zeke back down the maze of hallways out to where a big black SUV is idling. He's about to get in when he stops.

"Where's Seamus?" It's torture to speak, his voice barely more than a whisper. It feels even worse to let it slip that he needs Seamus. Zeke sets his jaw.

"He has to stay. He's presenting an award at the end of the night and they wouldn't let him out of it." Theo feels tears welling in his eyes and he tries to blink them away, but they just slip down his cheeks - cutting cold trails through fever heat.

"Zeke," he just says, and Zeke sighs.

"I know, I know, it's-"

"No, you don't know!" he explodes, and though the strain of raising his voice is excruciating he can't hold himself back. "I did so much shit today and I didn't say one fucking word. I didn't ask for anything. I went to all those stupid meetings and did all this bullshit! I had to lip sync for the first time ever! And I feel like I'm gonna die. Please, I just need this one thing. Please, I…" he trails off, voice and energy spent. "Please, I'm so fucking sick."

This is the first time he's actually admitted it, and even though everyone already knows, it still feels like a defeat. Zeke sighs and pulls him into a hug. It doesn't feel as good as it would from Seamus but it's still something. His nose is streaming, and he's sure it's getting all over Zeke's shirt, but he doesn't care. He sniffles wetly and pulls away.

"Listen, he was just as upset as you are. More, even. But it's just how it is." He pulls open the door to the car and Theo climbs in, Zeke following close behind.

"Such bullshit," Theo murmurs, and Zeke sighs.

"It's ridiculous. Have someone else read the envelope, it's not rocket science," he says, and Theo nods. He wipes some of the mess off his face with his sleeve before Zeke hands him a tissue. "Wanna hear about the drama in the management section? That always cheers you up."

Theo nods and listens to Zeke go off about the various goings on with the other managers and PR people for the celebrities at the event. It's entertaining, and it even draws a few laughs out of him.

Then they're back in his now empty apartment, Zeke the only one left bustling around - this time gathering up illness related supplies. Theo just strips down to his underwear on the couch, fever raging like a fire under his skin.

Zeke slides the cold thermometer under his tongue and has to hold it in place when it's clear Theo's too weak to keep it in his mouth. Zeke presses his lips into a line when it beeps. He's silent for a few moments, just staring.

"What?" Theo finally asks, and Zeke looks at him.

"103.3." Theo rolls his eyes.

"That's not so bad," he mumbles. He's about to lay down on the couch when Zeke pulls him upright.

"Let's just get you in bed, alright?"

He falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, and he doesn't wake until he feels a cold hand on his forehead. The room is dark except for the light of the city outside the windows, but it's enough to see Seamus. Theo's never been more relieved in his life.

His hand move to his forehead, then comes to rest on his shoulder.

"That's one fucking fever," he says, and Theo tries to speak, but can't get anything to come out. "Christ, Theo. Here, let me in."

He lifts the comforter and lays down next to him. They reach for each other at the same time, and Theo lets out a shuddering breath as Seamus's arms wrap around him. His whole body aches like a bruise, and he moans softly when his pounding head presses into Seamus's shoulder. He's seconds away from sleep, fever pulling him back down into hazy, gauzy twilight.

The last thing he feels are Seamus's soft, cool lips laying a kiss on his temple.

#my writing #illness kink #sickfic #whump #fever #snz kink #oc seamus #oc theo #hope you like the prompt fill!!#to anyone else reading feel free to send prompts!

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