#Like how would reception of these shows change if they ended abruptly and we were only left with an unconcluded

[cryptvokeeper]

given my jar of nickels from shows that were cut off or ended prematurely by the network, I gotta say I do, to an extent, miss when shows would get cancelled and just end at the most inconvenient times.

don’t get me wrong I’m glad the creators for shit like Steven universe and the Owl house and ROTTMNT were able to cobble together conclusions that maintained their original vision at least somewhat and still managed to be definitive(ish) conclusions.

but also Yknow what was real fuckin wild? When teen titans ended they brought a character back from the dead with no explanation, introduced a mysterious new enemy that they never quite defeat, brings back an OLD enemy they never quite defeat, ALL IN THE VERY LAST EPISODE

And that shits been living in my brain for ten years

#I dunno I’m Thinkin abt how owl house and rise had to really compress their endings and get really rushed and cramped #And like they’re still GOOD don’t get me wromg #But I just wonder about if it was different yknow #Like how would reception of these shows change if they ended abruptly and we were only left with an unconcluded #But perhaps more consistent story #we’ll never know but it’s neat to think about

[henqtic]

𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲? || 𝐃.𝐌 

summary: You and your childhood friend Draco make the rash decision to runaway after the war and it changes your relationship and lives for the better.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: war, mentions of death, kissing, mentions of birth, pregnancy, parenthood, a five year old falling off of a broom (is that a warning?) Please contact me if there's more!

request: @fa-me- can you do a fix based on the song “The Story” by Conan Gray with draco? pretty fluffy if possible, i would like to not be in tears by the end of it🖐😃 

a/n- I had so much fun writing this and I did leave out some lyrics because this was supposed to be happy and not sad. Also in the song I’m pretty sure Conan and the girl were just friends but here they’re not going to be :) [lyrics are in bold]

+ Masterlist | Draco Malfoy Masterlist

gif creds

Now it's on to the sequel

About me and my friend

It was inevitable; the second wizarding war. The world was in the most literal way crumbling down and burning in fire, and all he was worried about was her- nothing else, just her.

Throughout their years at Hogwarts Draco and y/n had an odd relationship- if you would even call it that. They weren’t romantically involved in any way, shape or form, they were just childhood best friends that got a little too close at moments.

Whenever the question did come up of when they would put everyone out of their misery and just get together, it was answered with awkward laughter from both parties.

Both our parents were evil

Now here they were, panicking because they couldn’t find one another, because they were sixteen fighting in a war that was never meant for them, a war set up by their parents' elitist views.

No sane mother or father would've wanted this life for their child. Constantly looking over their shoulders, hoping that one of deadly curses that were flying around wouldn’t make contact with them like it had with their peers.

That young love that had been a safety net for the two teenagers through those dark times was slipping away and they desperately needed to find each other. Just to say it one time, before it was too late.

A flash of platinum blonde hair was all she needed to push through the crowd and sling herself into his arms.

“Draco I was so scared that I lost you and-” Your words were cut off by a soft pair of lips finding their way onto yours. The kiss was warm, the shared feeling of desperation pouring into it. Your hands ran through his hair trying to savor the moment before he abruptly pulled away. 

“I love you. I need you to know that before something may happen to us.” The confession came out rushed, almost un-comprehendible but then it clicked in your head, he finally said it.

His hands laid on your cheeks, eyes glued to your plump lips as you repeated the same three words back to him.

The black suit that he thought was appropriate to wear to war was still intact as he haphazardly led you both away from all the chaos into a secluded area.

If we worked and we saved

We could both run away

And we'd have a better life

“We fight on the right side and we run away.” The words of plea came as a surprise to both Draco and the disheveled girl in front of him. “We can’t just run-”

“Yes we can,” he said, cutting you off. “Aren’t you tired of living like this? We’re great students, we can find our own jobs and run away somewhere- away from this.” 

It started to make a lot more sense than it did ten seconds ago but you were still unsure about it. It was a radical idea and it probably wouldn’t work out, Merlin, he didn’t even think it would work out.

But it was worth a try right?

The wild that both families held on you was heavy and wasn’t easy to just pull away from.

“Yeah alright, we’ll run away, make a better life,” you repeated still in disbelief that you were going to go against your parents.

That’s just what you did, switch sides in the middle of the war. And fought alongside the people and magical creatures that were against Voldemort. And when it was time for you both to be called out to the other side by your parents...

y/n, Draco, come.

You didn’t. A shaky hand found its way to yours, lacing your fingers together tightly. It kept you both grounded, kept to the right side. 

And I was right

I wonder if she's alright

You ended up living in a small house in a muggle neighborhood for a while, it gave you time to breathe from the harsh stares of the wizarding world.

The judging eyes and remarks still followed when you would go to your job at the ministry, pursuing your dream in the study of magical creatures while Draco stayed home, finding a passion in Arithmancy.

The time you two had spent together as an actual couple and not as two teenagers scared of crossing an invisible line opened both of your eyes to what you were missing out on.

And even though it was pretty early, two years later Draco took the next step and got on one knee. The ceremony was inherently small, upon the agreement that only a few close friends should be of attendance. After that, you decided that it was best to try and reconnect with your families face to face and end the stalling monthly letters.

Both were glad to see you happy and healthy- for the most part- but were still upset as to why you would leave ‘without a single reason as to why.’

The birth of Scorpius Malfoy three years later had turned that house that you lived in, into a home filled with an untouchable joy.

And now you sat on a bench in the backyard, letting the June sun hit your skin, watching as your husband tried teaching a hyper five year old how to fly on his first training broom.

It was something you two argued on at first, scared that he would hurt himself- something that he was very prone to doing. But now that you saw how joyful it made them both, you hadn’t regretted the decision. The sight of wide grins glued onto their faces warmed your heart.

You realized that the experience of being away from the constant pressure of your parents had made you the absolute happiest. 

Especially witnessing Draco’s cheers of joy when Scorpious finally flew a half a mile on his own. Even if he wasn’t too far from the ground, it was still a great accomplishment.

Your hand instinctively went down to rub your enlarged stomach, another life growing and soon to be delivered in three months time. Through your eyes, your life was perfect as is. The family and the friendships that you had rekindled filled it so much.

Memories of Blaise and Daphne at your wedding reception sparked in your head. They had made a toast centered around the recalling of how you and Draco's actual first kiss was after the Yule ball when a mistletoe ‘mysteriously’ showed up. Turns out it was the antics of two fourteen year olds trying to get their friends together.

“Alright Scorp how about we take a break and you get some water? I need to talk to your mum,” Draco called out, interrupting your thoughts. The boy hurried back into the house not wanting to waste any time before they could go back and practice.

He rushed to sit next to you on the bench, a look of concern already creeping onto his face.

“Are you comfortable? Is it too hot out for you love? Or is it not hot enough?” The questions would have gone on if you hadn’t pressed your lips to his. The effect that you had over him seemingly never faded, the blush evident on his face when you pulled away.

“I’m fine darling stop worrying. I’m just really happy with the way our lives turned out,” you assured, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Even if you couldn’t see, you knew there was a clear smile on his face as he leaned down to press a kiss into your hair. “I love you and the family that we made- and are making.” His hand went over yours, the feeling of pride coursing through his veins.

You hadn’t had a chance to reciprocate the affectionate words before a loud crash sounded making you turn to the blonde in a grimace, sharing a knowing look.

ouch!

You craned your neck in an attempt to see him before Draco just shook his head and got up on his own.

“Stay there Scorp I’m coming!”

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[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 18)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: After the S1 Finale, TV Show canon MOSTLY with some S2, Shadow of Night and Book of Life.

Summary: Alisha learns that there’s more to her nature than she initially realised and a surprising death of an adversary brings its own problems.

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary @hofficoffi @stormyheart326 @wonderlander594 @madamquacklemore @thereadersmuse @kynthiamoon @ordinarymom1 @fuzzyflowervoid @maybelightning @lady-lazarus-declermont @whoa-studymuch @shugensha

The Story So Far

“Fuck,” Gallowglass swore under his breath and hung up the unanswered call.

Alisha had been out for almost a day and Baldwin returned to Venice to deal with the fallout from Peter’s murder.

To make matters worse, his cousin Rebecca, the time spinning witch from eighteen years in the future - who claimed to be there on a ‘sightseeing tour’ - was not answering any of his attempts at contact.

“Who knows, maybe all this time messing we’ve been doing will change something!”

Her words from the night of the auction stuck in his head and he had to wonder if she really would interfere in such a blatant way. Deep down he knew the answer. If predictability and willingness to follow rules were genetic traits, she was not likely to have either.

Gallowglass weighed the options and a creeping doubt wormed it’s way into his mind.

The speed and intensity of Baldwin’s relationship with his ‘aunt’ was clearly acknowledged even if no one had voiced the sentiment directly.

The phone rang in his hand, interrupting his growing collection of concerns.

Baldwin.

“She’s still asleep,” Gallowglass answered, abruptly wincing at the interference on the line, “fuck that’s annoying, is it on your end on mine?”

The line was still garbled and although reluctant to leave his post, Gallowglass followed the better signal to clearer sound.

“What is that static, we never have reception as bad there?” Baldwin asked with taut suspicion in his voice.

“Just a bad signal,” he reassured Baldwin, “like I said, she’s still asleep but I will tell you when she’s awake, you’ll probably want to explain-“

“No,” Baldwin answered abruptly, “that’s not a good idea”, he sighed, “I’m the last person she’d want to hear from. It’s best if you explain the situation, she likes you, she’ll trust you.”

“Aye, people always have such fond and cosy opinions of their jailer, tell me, did you and Saladhim stay penpals once you were released from his dungeon?”

“You’re supposed to keep her safe and contained. If her stay in those large, comfortable rooms is at all comparable with a cell in Acre then you have gravely misunderstood my orders.” He returned wearily.

“Any word on Knox?”

“Meeting’s about to start, don’t know how long it’s likely to be, half expect to find signed divorce papers on my desk when I return.”

“That’s not likely,” Gallowglass snorted, “she’s not allowed to talk to anyone else, as per your orders.”

Gallowglass could feel his patience wearing thin, it had been ever since he met Rebecca, walking, breathing proof of what he’d carried in his heart for over four hundred years.

The only woman he’d ever loved had indeed followed the path fate had set for her.

The only consolation to his loss was the fact that it meant much deserved happiness had come to Matthew.

Philippe had sent him to watch over Diana, leaving him without a task now she was with past himself.

“Give it two days,” Baldwin relented, “let her settle into the new situation and then you can accompany her on a walk of the gardens, the other rules still apply, she is not to speak to anyone else and she is to be returned to her rooms as soon as you are finished.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Despite what you believe, I do love my wife.”

“I never doubted your feelings, just your priorities.”

“I must go, keep me updated on her condition.”

Baldwin hung up abruptly, leaving Gallowglass where the search for better cell reception left him, in the corridor, looking at the very tapestry Alisha had asked him about just a few days prior.

As he studied the figures present he found his eye wandered to the one with the instrument.

Oscine.

That’s what Baldwin had called her, a Latin derivative of ‘oscen’ or ‘songbird’. The famed Venetian musician behind a mask. The same one he had overheard Stasia and Verin chuckle about behind Baldwin’s back as his uncle was captivated by her the entire visit.

Unknown to anyone else, she was also the de Clermont spy that Philippe had sent Baldwin to Japan to get him away from, and the daemon Philippe had sent Gallowglass to Venice to fetch - unsuccessfully as a result of her death - after Matthew and Diana’s trip to the past.

The phone vibrated in his hand again and he answered, fully expecting it to again be Baldwin.

“She’s still asleep Baldwin-“

“It’s me,” Rebecca’s voice was urgent, “and I need you to listen-“

“I will but first you need to tell me what and who she is!”

There was an audible sigh on the other side of the phone.

“If you are asking then you already know and if I confirm anything then Uncle Baldwin will know that you are lying when he questions you. Best that you just trust me on this.”

“On what?”

“Something you won’t be happy about!”

“I don’t-“ he froze in realisations what she had said “why would Baldwin question me?”

“Like I said, please trust me, tell him nothing and I’m sorry for the trouble this will cause.”

“Wait-“

“Goodbye Erik, I’ll see you soon, just not in this timeline.”

“Rebecca!”

Gallowglass reached the door to Alisha’s chambers and unlocked the door before the call ended.

The sight of the empty room was both unwelcome and yet entirely expected.

———

“I trust that you have begun investigations into the death of Peter Knox?” Baldwin addressed Satu pointedly from across the meeting chamber.

“A dreadful business indeed,” Gerbert shook his head, sarcasm dripping from the words, “he will be in our thoughts, and prayers.”

“You can save both,” Satu hit back, “considering the fact that he was killed by one of your kind.”

“We had no grudge against him...in particular,” Domenico shrugged, “but I suppose he was still a witch.”

“The same cannot be said for all of your kind,” the new male witch replied from the other side of Knox’s empty chair, “I understand he was engaged in a feud with your brother!”

Baldwin shrugged, giving an air of indifference.

“I am not my brother.”

“Speaking of Matthew de Clermont,” Gerbert drawled, “I can’t help but notice his absence, despite our repeated request that he present himself for questioning.”

“I am not his keeper either!”

“No, and I suppose your hands are already full, attending to your...young wife,” the vampire continued to provoke him, “I hear she is very gifted, in both music and beauty.”

“Oh for heaven sake,” Agatha spoke up, “can we dispense with the macho innuendo and address the reason for this meeting?”

“I agree,” Satu gestured to the envelopes sitting on the table beside each congregation member, “by searching Peter Knox’s effects, it was found that he was researching these.”

“What is it?” Domenico asked as he opened the envelope.

“Two frescoes in Venice, painted sometime around the late 1200’s.” Satu answered.

Baldwin cautiously lifted the envelope, already suspicious of the contents. He summoned every ounce of self control to prevent an involuntary sensory reaction to what he suspected to find.

“The woman in the first photo is unidentifiable due to vandalism. The second is pristine but we have no figure we can tie her to.”

Baldwin tried to suppress the sigh of relief.

It was not the fresco featuring Diana, not if the subject remained unidentifiable.

His relief was short lived when he noted Agatha’s troubled expression.

The first fresco was indeed the depiction of Diana, as before. It had been vandalised beyond recognition to anyone who had not seen it untainted.

The second, however, was the perfect likeness of his wife staring back at him.

“What has this to do with his death?” Gerbert asked, disinterested.

“I do not yet know but we are in Venice, I should appreciate your input given both you and Michel have called this place home.”

Domenico scoffed.

“Something to add?” Gerbert questioned with the hint of a threat.

“I know every building, every stroke of paint on every wall. I have never seen this before.” Domenico hit back.

There was a wary forcefulness to his tone that Baldwin noted for later.

“I do not claim the knowledge of Domenico but I concur that no such fresco has been brought to my attention.”

“Very well,” Satu eyed them both before fixing her gaze on Baldwin, “and are you familiar with these works?”

“Not to my knowledge,” he shrugged, “who is the artist?”

“Unknown, as is the subject.”

“And how was it dated?” Baldwin prompted.

“Very interested in this particular piece,” Gerbert smirked, “any reason why?”

“If dear departed Peter was studying these works, the more that is known the easier it will be to determine how they factor into his death.” Domenico explained, earning a glare from Gerbert.

“I believe the paint itself was dated.” Satu offered.

“Fascinating,” Gerbert sighed, “and it tells us nothing.”

“For the moment,” she agreed, “but we ask you to remain in Venice, in case further action is needed.”

“For how long?” Agatha protested.

“Not you,” Satu dismissed, “the daemons are not required in this matter, given the nature of the culprit.”

“Do you think we have nothing better to do than await your instruction?” Gerbert challenged.

“If you have someplace else to be,” Domenico challenged him, “I will stay in Venice as vampire representative.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Gerbert started, “but your offer is appreciated.”

Baldwin sensed a tension in the air between the two, it wasn’t like Domenico to push Gerbert so much. It offered an intriguing opportunity.

“Would that be acceptable to you,” Baldwin asked Satu, “to have Domenico act as the vampire liaison?”

“It is the least objectionable outcome.” She responded coldly.

Baldwin pointedly ignored Gerbert’s glare for the remainder of the meeting.

———

“How is this possible?” Nathaniel stood beside Gallowglass inside the empty room.

“I don’t know, the door was locked, there is no window.”

“You didn’t hear anything?”

“No, Baldwin called, there was static on the line, I left the door for a few moments to get a better reception.”

“The static was caused by magic,” Emily stated from the door, “the place is heavy with it.”

“Even non-witches should be able to sense it.” Sarah agreed.

“But a witch with the power to steal someone from under the nose of three vampires and two witches?” Nathaniel glanced at Gallowglass.

Just as Gallowglass opened his mouth to answer, a subtle creak drew his attention to an empty bookcase affixed to the wall.

A small door opened out into the room as Ysabeau emerged with Sophie and Margaret.

“How in the hell-“ Gallowglass started.

“This,” Ysabeau held up the map in her hand, “Matthew built this place, he made all sorts of escape routes until he was able to create his own secure tower.”

“Why would he need to escape his own home?” Sophie frowned, confused.

“His relationship with his siblings is complicated, he never entirely felt safe here. Still, he assured me that he blocked all the hidden tunnels off, clearly he hadn’t.” She handed Gallowglass the plans.

“Matthew is the only one who would know how to gain access to the passage but we know he’s in the past with Diana, Marcus sent us a photo of the miniatures.” Sarah shook her head, clearly bothered.

“What is it?” Em asked.

“This magic, it’s not only powerful it’s somehow also very-“

“Familiar?” Emily finished.

“Well, I’d love to speculate but I need to tell my uncle that I lost his wife, after just one day in my custody.”

Gallowglass left, hoping he’d cut the speculation party off before it started.

———

“Just what the fuck are you playing at?” Gerbert barged into Baldwin’s office,

“Whatever you believe me to have done does not excuse this assault on manners and decency.”

“I knew you were vindictive,” Gerbert sneered, “but I didn’t take you for stupid.”

“Be specific!”

“Domenico, your father took Venice from him for good reason! Do not risk our discovery by the humans because of a bruised ego!”

“A bruised ego,” Baldwin stared, “you tried to relieve me of my head!”

“Hardly the first time,” Gerbert approached slowly, “but maybe you’re growing more sensitive in your old age.”

“A war between us would tear both the creature and the human world apart,” Baldwin returned calmly, “but I would gladly let it burn for the privilege of tossing your head into the unmarked grave containing your freshly slain brood.”

“Would you,” Gerbert taunted, “and leave your poor, defenceless daemon wife alone and unprotected. Dear sweet Alisha.”

Baldwin had Gerbert’s throat in his hand before he even made the conscious decision to move from his seat.

“Do not say her name,” Baldwin growled, “I will not even have you think it!”

Gerbert hadn’t made a defensive move, in fact, he stood with his hands up, proving his intention not to fight, but to provoke.

“So it is true, you have found your mate, and in a daemon no less-“

Baldwin released his grip on the other man’s throat.

“I already asked you what you wanted, I will not ask again.”

“Domenico, he’s up to something.” Gerbert admitted.

“He usually is,” Baldwin rolled his eyes, “but it appears that you have custody of his allegiance this century. In any case, his actions do not concern me.”

“They should,” Gerbert continued, “he is the contact that Michael followed to Venice.”

Baldwin feigned unfamiliarity with a vague shrug.

“The frescoes.” Gerbert reminded.

“That Satu mentioned?”

“Those. Peter found two, one was vandalised, the other is in the photo. The third is in my locked property.”

“But you did not tell the witches?”

“No. I believe we should carry out our own investigation.”

“Then you should be speaking with Domenico!”

Gerbert smirked and made his way to the door.

“Ignore my warning for now but believe me, it will come back on you.”

Baldwin waited until Gerbert left to switch on his phone, just in time to see an incoming call from Gallowglass.

He felt a small tinge of relief, Gallowglass wouldn’t be calling unless it was to tell Baldwin Alisha was awake.

It was fortunate, he was sure one more setback could provoke him towards a small massacre.

With a small kindling of hope, he answered the call.

———

Alisha’s eyes focused on the high ceiling of a bright window lit room.

She realised she was no longer in Sept Tours just as her recollection of recent events hit her.

She wasn’t a daemon.

The life she thought she had was fabricated.

Her husband drugged her with his vampire blood.

A surge of panic forced her to her feet and towards the suspiciously open door.

Making her way down the hallway, as quietly as possible, she stopped at the window.

“Paris?” Alisha muttered in disbelief.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Rebecca joined her at the window.

“You, you’re the girl I met at the auction. Rebecca.”

“Yes, but you did know me, before that.”

“So you’re the one who took my memories!” Alisha accused.

“No, well, I did suppress them!”

“Same thing.”

“You wanted them erased, the suppression was a compromise.”

“She needs to see the video,” Miyako leant against the doorframe, “it’ll speed up this process.”

“Are you insane,” Rebecca hissed, “you want to show her-“

“No, not that one,” Miyako shook her head, “the one she made last time we came here.”

“If your father finds out you helped me escape,” Alisha started.

“I’ll be grounded, no television for a week,” she chuckled darkly, “it’s other Miyako I feel sorry for.”

“What other Miyako?”

“Okay, short version, I am Miyako from 18 years in the future, this is Rebecca, she’s a time spinner. You already know this but your name is not Alisha Black, you are not a daemon, American or even from this time period.”

“Who am I, what am I?”

“Who you are is Catarina Galena Marcato Cicogna. You are Venetian, we brought you here from 1591. We do not know anything beyond the fact that your mother was a witch.”

Alisha didn’t take much in after 1591.

“Long version is all yours.” Miyako told Rebecca.

———

PART 19

#baldwin montclair #a discovery of witches #adow #baldwin de clermont #baldwin’s nightingale #adow fic #adow baldwin

[purpletaecup]

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling.  When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

← masterlist →

taglist: @victoriedulce @yoongistruth @rebeccawoodrow @moon-asia @koochiekoo @sonderkook @fangirling-gallifreyan @teresaisla @veronawrites @haeilove @rjsmochii @mama-m0chi @agustd-2020 @imluckybitches @dreamer95 @coldfreakeggsexpert @loveyoongles @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @mr-robot-x @alinerl @lunaarya @somewhereinthestarss @moonlitmyg @liriaus @coolpeanutskeletonpersona @scentedsope @seoul9711 @sbtzhoe @ggukkieland @mariand @deolly @fandomstogetherweunite @pairdeune @baekstans @mickmoon @iamnamjoonsbxtch @cloudbuffalo @kimmalik @laabellaavitaa21 @liveoffyou @vantedollz @1this1is1me1 @yulisaangelica @madnesstaking0ver @venxtaetae @pimpnameyannie @bobrouxsky @cheesecakes-randomshitz @ceoofjjksimping @minclangyyy @ysljoon @eilenebeniquez @laurynne5 @jalexad @yoongicap @hellotherehoneybee @thequeen-kat @haveumetbadeth @goldenkookietae @miss-jupiter @arcadechick​ @neverthefirstchoice​ @zxlummxxd​

#bts #bts fic #bts social media au #bts au #bts angst #bts x reader #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi fics #yoongi angst #min yoongi #min yoogi social media au #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fic #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi angst #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook angst #purpletaecup: i feel you in my heart #yoongi fake texts #yoongi au #bts fake texts #bts fics

[nuisancehelicopter]

@DailyHitouji from twitter posted this and I just got so many Baka Pair feels this morning

even though KT made baka pair out of spite, they still came through as canon lgbta+ couple in tenipuri, a japanese shonen anime about middle school boys playing magic tennis. I think it's still wonderful how the fandom treasure them and how tenirabi keep making glorious content (and respectable content, i believe) of them.

Looking at baka pair makes me really happy yknow? problematic beginnings and characterization aside, they're still in a committed relationship and they're kind and good senpais to Kintarou, Zaizen and even extending to Kaido.

Like..Baka Pair may not be the ideal face of the lgbta+ fight in japan but it's still smh symbolic of the lgbta+ fight.

Japanese creators are constantly trying to make more diverse content only for their series to just ..end abruptly, due to fan reception or the higher powers that be (ie conservative executives running animation and manga businesse).

Sure there are lots of newer stuff with more "respectable" portrayals but they never last long or like.. they get pushed to this Josei, Seinen, BL shelf that only the bravest would dare explore.

Tenipuri on the other hand has just this insane fanbase and huge platform and whether conservatives like it or not..it's a mainstay in the culture. It's one of Shonen Jump's best sellers ffs.

Tenipuri's portrayal of them was almost homophobic, ngl. However, Konomi did smth no one ever dared for a long time, they made these two gay boys a frking power couple. Like sure some of the other characters in canon acted awkward towards them, but bottom line is, they had somebody to love and be boyfriends with in each other.

Not only that, Konomi made the femgay chracter (idk the right term) into the smartest person in canon, with high impossible IQ and memory skills. His partner's mimicry capabilities is awesome too. They were formidable opponents even in the original series. Their teammates freakin adore them and treat them just normal. Like holyfk has that even happened in other shows?? Hell, Tezuka, one of the series's most serious characters, absolutely enjoys their gag routines? come on.

It's just mirrors how mainstream jp media look at these people. It's a sad reality but we know it is changing for the better. 3rd Season Tenimyu's Baka Pair so far had the best non-cringey relationship for me. Tenpuri Rising Beat has had several events with Baka Pair being actual boyfriends and not in a jokey way (i think).

What's more Tenipuri has not ended yet. There's still no sign of an ending. Konomi still trying to turn to other kinds of media to expand his universe (THE 3D MOVIE). Not to mention the seiyuus still guest in rajipuri, Koharu is still part of Megane 7 songs.

To think that Baka Pair is in all of that. is just. so Overwhelming to me? Also the fact that they belong to this Nationals level powerhouse school (no offense to fudomine, rokkaku, yamabuki, st. rudolph) but that means they get more exposure than most sports anime lgbta+ characters.

Konomi's attitude to ships in his creation has seemed to be more mellow too. The man has changed. Like ofc we should not forget his faults when he was younger but he is proof that he could read how the fandom based on his series, have grown up and matured.

I think the treatment of Baka Pair through 2 decades of various Tenipuri media reflect the changing attitudes toward LGBTA+ in Japan. It will continue to do so, as long as people keep loving The Prince of Tennis.

and that's beautiful.

#prince of tennis #tenipuri #koharu konjiki #hitouji yuuji #tenipuri thoughts #I HAD FEELINGS TODAY OKAY

[myrandomfandomramblings]

A Chenford fanfic - in which Lucy and Tim dance at Angela’s wedding

Angela and Wesley’s wedding had gone off without a hitch due in no small part to Tim’s work as ‘Man of Honour’. Now his job was done and all he had to do was “go have some fun. Enjoy the rest of the night.” That had been a direct order from the bride herself. However, Tim had enjoyed having a role, a purpose, making sure his best friend had the special day she deserved. Now he didn’t know what to do with himself, so he sat alone at his table. 

Throughout the rest of the reception the table had been full, occupied by Sergeant Grey and his wife, Jackson, Nyla, Nolan, and Lucy, but they had all quickly taken the dance floor when that part of the evening had begun. Tim on the other hand had insisted he didn’t dance and stubbornly stuck to that every time Lucy returned to the table for a drink and tried to convince him to join her and the rest of their friends. Tim had no desire to do the Macarena, YMCA, cha-cha slide or whatever other weird dance moves they were rocking when the song didn’t provide instructions. He was pretty sure he saw Nolan do the sprinkler, Jackson do the worm, Lucy do the running man and even Nyla get in on the absurdity with some disco moves. And that was all just during the last song. 

When the song changed, so did the vibe and the moves. It was a slower song, ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift, Tim thought. Although he didn’t know how he knew that and definitely would deny it if anyone asked. Everybody on the dance floor had now grabbed a partner. Most of the couples were either closely pressed together simply swaying on the spot or doing the classic square step pattern as they carried casual conversations. The exception was Lucy and Jackson who appeared to be improvising an elaborate dance routine that involved very exaggerated facial expressions and an excessive amount of spinning and dipping each other. Tim rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at his lips. The reason for the over-the-top performance became more clear to Tim as the night wore on. 

Every time a slow song came on Lucy would grab a new partner:  one of Angela’s brothers, Nolan, another one of Angela’s brothers, Nyla, and every time she would step on their feet so many times that by the end of the song they were limping and she was beet red, apologizing profusely.  She even managed to give the second brother a bleeding nose when she abruptly looked up from her feet and her head collided with his face. So when the next slow song came on, John Legends’s ‘All of Me,’ Tim found himself standing up from his seat and walking towards the dance floor. He couldn’t handle anymore secondhand embarrassement. 

Tim had taken dance lessons to prepare for his first dance with Isabel. That felt like a lifetime ago but he was confident he still remembered the basics of the Waltz and he was determined to teach Lucy and make her the best dancer there. After all, he had yet to find something she didn’t excel at given the chance to learn especially when he was the one doing the teaching. 

It didn’t take him long to find Lucy. Unsurprising, considering, if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her all night. She was once again dancing with Jackson but this time they were in proper hold and it appeared Jackson was trying to teach her how to not step on her partner’s feet. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Tim asked as he approached the pair. Their shocked expressions suddenly made him self-conscious. What had he been thinking. Before he could really overthink it Jackson was leaving, saying something about having to use the bathroom anyway, and Lucy’s hands were on his shoulders.

“I should warn you,” Lucy said looking up at him, “I appear to have to left feet. I’ve been injuring my dance partners all night.”

Tim placed one hand on the small of her back and took her left hand in his other. “I’ve noticed,” he smirked, “and I’m here to help. Do you trust me?” 

She gave him a questioning look but nodded.

He spent the next couple minutes slowly guiding her both with his body and voice. “Step forward with your left foot. Your other left. Good, now forward and to the right with your right. OK but on a diagonal, you don’t have to go forward then right. Now bring your feet together. Ow! that was my foot. Left to right, not right to left. Now left foot back. And right back and to the right. Now feet together again, right to left. Good and now we are back where we started and we just repeat. Left foot forward…” 

Lucy was just starting to get it when the song ended and ‘Party in the USA’ came on. Tim went to let go of Lucy but she held him where he was.

“I’m just starting to get the hang of it. We can’t stop now,” Lucy stated, “please stay.” She fixed him with those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t say no to so Tim obliged and continued coaching her. 

The only problem was the pump-up pop beats that the DJ was currently favouring were significantly louder than the slow song they were initially dancing to, which meant Tim found himself pulling Lucy closer and leaning down, practically talking right beside her ear so his instructions could be heard over the music. Even when she no longer needed the verbal cues they stayed that close, caught up in their own little world as they moved in unison. When another slow song finally came on, ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran this time, Tim felt Lucy tense like this was some sort of evaluation. He squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear. 

“You’ve got this, and I’ve got your back.” He felt her relax and they quickly fell back into the now familiar routine. When the song ended she pulled away from him slightly. 

“I did it. An entire slow dance and I didn’t cause a single, even minor, injury,” she beamed, staring up at him clearly proud of herself.

Tim smiled and shook his head. “Only because you had such a great teacher.”

Lucy rolled her eyed and playfully pushed his shoulder. “So what’s next?” she asked.

“Next?”

“Yeah, I got the walk in a box thing down but there’s got to be more to it than that. Show me the cool moves Tim.”

Tim didn’t think twice about fulfilling her request. They spent the rest of the night in each others arms as they slowly mastered more and more steps. When the DJ announced the final song of the night it was 3 am and they had the entire dance floor to themselves. 

Shania Twain’s ‘From This Moment On’ began playing, and they glided around the dance floor like they were dancing on air, perfectly in sync. They stepped and spun and dipped and swayed as Tim tried to memorize every moment. The way Lucy’s eyes shone when they met his and the little smile that played on her lips. The playful laugh that escaped her when he lifted her off the ground. The feeling of her hand in his, of her head on his shoulder and her breath on his neck. The warmth of her body pressed against his and her familiar scent overwhelming his senses. Then the song ended and the beautiful trance was broken. Tim drove Lucy home. She thanked him for a wonderful night and neither of them ever mentioned it again. At least not for another couple years when they finally addressed what had been building between them and started dating. Then dancing became a common part of date night and a few years after that they got to show off their moves at their own wedding.

#lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #tucy #the rookie #therookiemidseasonmadness #i know others have and will write better versions of this but i couldn't get it out of my head

[darling-dummy-blogs]

A Broken Promise- Victor Li

Summary: It's the day Cassandra has been waiting for her entire life. Her and Victor's wedding day. However.. Victor doesn't show up to the wedding…

Paring: Victor Li X OC (Mentions of Victor Li x F!MC [Mia])

Genre: Angst, Fluffy Ending (And a bit of an Angst Ending as well..)

Warnings: None!

Fandom: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice

Word Count: 4k

Notes: In spirit of the re-run of the wedding event in MLQC I had written this piece a while back with the help of my dear friend @silv3rrin! (Thank you so much for your help with this!) This had also been written on the idea of my own experience of the wedding event haha (so enjoy my pain lol.) Based off the prompt below:

“Don’t promise me you won’t leave. Just don’t leave. I don’t think I can handle another promise right now.”

The day had finally come. One that Cassandra had looked forward to since the day she got engaged to Victor.

Their wedding day. Her excitement and nervousness really got to her, making her feel extra bouncy and happy. The moment she woke up, she didn’t get to see her soon to be husband.

He had to do a few things at work so he had come in quite early in the morning to prepare for that.

Victor had left her some breakfast and the schedule for today. He had even let her know that he would be back at least an hour or two before the wedding to get himself ready.

Although just because Victor had to work, that didn’t mean she could slack off, she had to prepare and get herself ready for the wedding. Which luckily started later on in the afternoon. She did her usual morning routine.

She had to prepare herself for the arrival of her hairdresser and makeup artist. Once they had finished with her hair and makeup: Her hair had been curled and styled into an elegant bun, small strands of hair on the sides of her face along with her bangs, overall she loved how her hair had been styled.

She now has to get herself dressed. Her dress was stunning, it was off the shoulder, laced and fitted to her body, which showed off her curves in the best way, while at the bottom it had flowed out beautifully.

She loved how the dress had looked on her and with her hair and makeup done, it felt as though the dress complimented and completed her look. Now all she needed to do was to head to the church to make sure things were running smoothly.

When she got there, she could not believe how beautiful the scenery was.

Everything had been set to perfection. From the church that was beautifully decorated to their wedding reception.

Of course there was no limit to it, given Victor being the wealthy man he was. However he had wanted the day to go smoothly, and for it to be perfect just for her.

As the time grew closer to her getting married, she grew more and more nervous. But she tried to stay as calm as possible.

Only 2 more hours…

While the nervous bride had been trying to calm her oncoming nerves, Victor had been at LFG, finalizing a few things before leaving to prepare for the wedding.

However a sudden knock on his door had interrupted his train of focus, he looked towards the door, confused. Nobody would be bothering him considering he was leaving relatively soon for his own wedding. “Come in.” he called out.

The door opened, revealing Mia, who he was slightly surprised to see. Yet he kept his usual stoic expression

She smiled softly at him, "Hey Victor!"

“Mia, what are you doing here?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“Ah well.. I should be asking you that! Don’t you have a wedding to prepare for?” She walked over to his desk after shutting the door.

“Yes I do, I was just finishing up. But why are you here exactly? We don't have a meeting today and shouldn’t you get yourself prepared to come to the wedding?”

Of course, he had invited Mia to his wedding, even though he used to have feelings for her, they were still friends and Victor was still her boss. It was only polite of him to do so.

Mia had been more than happy to come, however, one of the main reasons as to why she came was because of the fact that she wanted to see him on his big day.

Her expression changed from happiness to one of nervousness. “W-well.. I came here to tell you something actually..”

He raised an eyebrow, his attention focused on her, “What is it..?” He hesitantly asked.

She gulped, taking a deep breath, “I know this isn’t ideal timing nor is it something I should be doing right now, on the day of yours and Cassie’s wedding but…” She took a pause, “I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time and it was bothering me to the point where I have to tell you.”

“..Go on…” He pressed, awaiting her answer.

A moment of silence had passed before she said, “I’m in love with you.”

His breath hitched in his throat. The words he wished to have heard a few years ago suddenly came out of her mouth.

“Why are you telling me this now?!” Victor’s voice boomed.

“...I-I don’t know.. I only just figured it out myself and.. I just wanted to tell you this. I know it's too late and I know you are with Cassie now but..” She looked down, growing quiet.

“I would never want to get in between you two because I care for both of you but you deserve to know how I feel.” She spoke firmly, as she looked at him, “I’m sorry...” She spoke with sincerity

“You saying this to me now is getting in between the both of us!” his voice was cold. “What do you gain from telling me now? Satisfaction that you could possibly ruin our relationship?”

“No! I don’t….I-I just... “ She balled up her hands into fists, stumbling on her words, “I just needed to tell you, if I didn’t then it would continue to eat at me for god knows how long..” A pause, her heart was pounding loudly within her chest, “I’m not trying to gain anything from it. Nor would I be trying to, I just had to tell you. You don’t have to respond or reciprocate my feelings.”

“If… if you told me earlier, then maybe, just maybe we could have been together instead… but it’s too late now.”

She didn’t know what else to say, she knew that there was no possible way that he would reciprocate her feelings now that he was marrying someone else. If only she could go back and realize earlier. “...I should have known sooner..” Tears welled up in her eyes

“I have tried to make it obvious though..” She muttered, tears sliding down her face. “But I guess since you were with her, you never noticed.” She sighed, wiping away her tears, as she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have done this…” She couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have mentioned it..”

“You realized that now?”

“I really am an idiot for doing this..” Mia muttered, the doubt that she felt suddenly kicked in, she finally looked him in the eye, “I’m sorry… I am so sorry.. For doing this.. I-it was stupid and.. I shouldn’t even go to the wedding.. I ruined it..” She sniffled.

A part of Victor felt conflicted, he didn’t really know what else to do, and he didn’t like to see Mia like this, he let out a sigh, “Mia.. It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.”

A moment of silence passed, “...I’m sorry.” Victor suddenly said, in a slightly gentle tone. Mia looked at him, shocked, however he continued, a look of sorrow had covered his features. “I’m sorry that I didn’t realize at the time, that you had feelings for me.”

“However, I don’t think you’ve realized that, before I met Cassie, I had feelings for you. And I was very obvious about it. Yet you didn’t notice.”

Mia’s eyes widened, she didn’t seem to realize that he had been in love with her before. How could she have known? She never took into consideration that he had even remotely liked her in such a way. After all, he was her boss.

“I never knew…” She trailed off.

‘And that’s not your fault. I should have been more clear at the time, but I wasn’t. That was my mistake.” He spoke earnestly, as he gazed at her.

“I’m so sorry again Victor.” She spoke up. “You don’t have to apologize, but I am sorry that I just don’t feel the same way anymore.”

“I understand.” She spoke, slightly dejected but she knew that there was no going back now. She has to move on.

Mia glanced at the time, her eyes widening, “U-Um..Victor… Y-Your wedding is going to start soon, shouldn’t you be leaving??”

Victor looked at the time. His eyes widening as he abruptly stood up, “Oh no..” He checked his phone, seeing several missed calls from Cassandra and many angry and anxious messages from her. How did his phone not go off?!

He grabbed his belongings as he rushed out the office.

He was in so much trouble now...

--

‘The wedding is going to start soon... why isn’t Victor here?’ Cassie thought to herself, she tried calling him and messaging him but she wasn’t getting any replies. Which stressed and worried her very much.

She was pacing back and forth in the hall of the church, still trying to call him. “Is his phone off or something???” She was growing frustrated and was getting anxious, suddenly her thoughts were getting to her.

‘What if he doesn’t want to marry me all of a sudden?’ She gulped, shaking her head as she tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from taking over her mind.

‘No, that’s just silly, he wouldn’t do that to me, he said that he would never hurt me like that..’ She thought to herself as she tried once again to get a hold of him. However to no avail, it would go straight to voicemail.

Her pacing didn’t slow down, it got to the point where her feet began to hurt due to her wearing heels. ‘For someone who doesn’t enjoy being late OR wasting time, he is very much late! To his own wedding especially.’ She groaned, as she peaked her head into the church where all their friends and family had sat, idly chatting with one another, waiting for the bride or groom to show up.

She looked at all the bridesmaids and groomsmen who had been standing at the end, and glanced over the spot where Victor would be standing, had he been there.

She whimpered quietly, ‘Come on Victor.. Where are you...’ She shut the door, the panic never really settling with her. It only seemed to continue to grow more and more as more time had passed. She was barely managing after the first few times she tried to reach him.

50 minutes. No Victor

40 minutes. Still no sign of Victor, she tried calling him yet again, no response.

30 minutes. Cassie kept checking the clock, still not a trace of Victor to be seen

20 minutes. She trembled, the anxiety building up again, she was beginning to feel as though he will never show up.

10 minutes. Tears appeared in her eyes, as she tried to not let them out, she couldn’t risk ruining her make-up now. He wasn’t coming. That was clear.

...2 hours late… She slowly opened the door, tears in her eyes as she slowly made her way to the front of the aisle, everyone gazed at her, worried and saddened as she kept her head low. Once she made her way to the front, she looked out at everyone, giving them her best yet weakest smile.

“..The wedding is cancelled. I am so sorry.. You all may go home.” She spoke, her voice wavering as she felt a sudden pang in her heart, which had split into two.

She watched as everyone got up, they felt sympathetic for her, wishing her better before saying their goodbyes. She was soon left alone, her whole body shook as she quietly stood there, the only sounds of her ragged breathing could be heard before she let out a loud sob and scream.

Which echoed throughout the entire church. She sat down on the edge of the step by the wedding arch. Sobbing as she gazed down at the engagement ring on her finger. The white diamond shone brightly in the church.

Cassandra then looked over at the rings that laid tied gently on a plush white pillow which was placed on a pillar next to the arch. She leaned forward, grabbing it and yanking off both the rings, staring at both of them, sniffling, her hands shaking as she couldn’t calm down her nerves.

Suddenly the door to the church had opened and in came a very panicked Victor. He looked around frantically, seeing that the church was empty, and had spotted Cassandra, sitting at the end by herself. His heart panged with guilt.

As she looked up, they made eye contact, tears staining her face as she glared at him. Pure anger and hurt evident on her face as she stood up, clenching both the wedding rings in her hands. Her hands balled up into tight fists.

Victor quickly walked over to her although halted as she suddenly spoke up, anger in her voice, “Don’t come anywhere near me.” She spat, her voice wavering with hurt.

“Cassie..” he spoke, his voice laced with despair.

“I can’t believe you.” She spoke, ignoring his sudden plea of her name, “You.. are 2 hours late, Victor. 2 HOURS!” She cried out. “You left me WAITING here for you! I have never felt so hurt and so embarrassed to have to come up here to both our friends and family BY MYSELF and CANCEL our wedding.”

“I-I’m sorry..” He spoke up again, he tried moving closer to her but she stepped back, shaking her head, she let out a bitter laugh, “You know.. You always say to never be late to anything and to not waste your time.. But yet, you were the one who was late.”

“I just got caught up with things,” he reasoned.

“Things that are more important than our wedding?!” she screamed. “Something we’ve been planning for months? You chose something trivial over our wedding?!”

“It was not trivial,” Victor defended Mia without a second thought.

"Oh? Well then tell me, WHAT exactly was it then?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I… I was talking with… with someone and I got caught up.”

"Who is this 'someone' Victor?" She inquired, impatiently

He let out a sigh, knowing what would come once he uttered that name but he couldn’t avoid it. “I was talking… with Mia…”

A moment of silence. She stared at him, unable to say anything. She knew of their history, she knew of his feelings for her.

Cassie didn't have anything against Mia. However, that didn't change the fact that she had fears and insecurities of Victor leaving her for Mia.

"...Alright." Was all she uttered. She looked down at the wedding rings in her right hand, she sniffled.

The only feeling she could feel was the numbing pain in her heart. Tears slid down her face even more, her makeup completely ruined.

She cleared her throat, "What exactly did you talk about with her?"

His lip tightened. He didn’t want to disclose anything to her, know that it would just continue to ruin what they have… well now it seems more like ‘had'.

“She… she needed to tell me something before our wedding… for some closure I suppose,” he tried to beat around the bush, hoping she wouldn’t push it any further.

"Victor… I am not an idiot, cut the crap and tell me the damn truth! I deserve to know after all that has happened today!" She screamed at him, glaring.

Guilt rose up in him. “It was her confessing to me that… she… loves me…” he didn’t want to say it but pushed himself to utter those words.

"..." Her eyes darkened, those words echoing throughout her head, she could faintly hear the cracking of her heart which went from being split into two, to shattering into itty bitty pieces.

"..What did you tell her?" She spat out, her voice void of any emotion.

“I… I asked her why… and if- if she had told me earlier… then maybe… we- we could have been…” he trailed off, afraid to hurt her further.

Just as he had said that, the door to the church had opened. Both Cassie and Victor looked over, seeing Mia walk in.

If this was a nightmare, Cassandra would definitely want to be awake now.

Cassie’s breathing pace quickened as she began shaking again. She wanted to let out a scream but she couldn't seem to move or let out a sound, she was silent.

Mia, locked eyes with both of them. She immediately made her way over to them. “H-hey guys..”

Cassie clenched her fists, she gave her a hard glare. She was the last person that Cassie had wanted to come into contact with. “What do you want?” She spat out, anger evident in her voice.

Victor tensed at her tone, ready to intervene.

Mia gulped, already knowing that Cassie did not want to see her. “I-I just came here.. To apologize. Specifically to you, Cassie.” She stepped closer but Cassandra didn’t move, nor did she want to hear what she had to tell her.

“Sorry, isn’t going to change the fact that because of your conversation with Victor, you made him late to our wedding.” She spoke in such a cold tone. One that she never uses, unless she was very much pissed off.

And in this case, she was.

Mia shrunk at the coldness of her words. She looked down fiddling with her fingers. “I-I know… I know I cannot change what I have done.. B-But you deserve to know that I am sorry. I didn’t mean for my feelings to take over and to make Victor late.. I-It’s just that… He needed to know how I felt about him before..-”

“Before what?” She spat out, anger only growing within her.

Mia looked up at them, looking at Cassie’s angered expression, then to Victor’s. She kept her gaze on him, as she spoke out these words:

“Before it was too late.”

“It was already too late when we got engaged.”

“Don’t invalidate her feelings, Cassandra. She wasn’t sure at the time until now,” Victor finally spoke, trying to diffuse the situation.

Cassie looked at Victor, a laugh escaped her, “You are already on thin ice, and you are defending her right now?!” She glared, there was no way that she would calm down.

Victor faced Mia before speaking. “Wait outside, We’ll talk later.”

Mia nodded, as she quickly turned onto her heel and left the church, leaving the two of them alone once again.

Cassandra watched her leave, her arms crossed over her chest. She then turned to Victor. “So. Care to explain what that was about?”

“I don’t want to deal with anymore fighting, and I don’t want to drag anyone else in our problem.”

“Kind of hard to do that when she caused this problem, Victor.”

She looked at him, staring into his eyes. Finally after a rather dreadful silence she asked a simple question:

"...Do you still have feelings for her?"

“I…” he hesitated. “I don’t… not anymore...”

"Why did you hesitate?"

Victor kept quiet. Even he didn’t know why he hesitated when the answer was so obvious. “SHE was the reason why you were late.”

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to be married to you! Maybe it’s because Mia makes me happier than what you’ve done, these past years!” Victor snapped.

Cassie staggered back slightly from that. Her eyes watering as new tears began trailing down her face. Her heart now throbbed in aching pain at his words which only added salt to the wound.

Sudden anger welled up within her as she dropped the two wedding rings that were in her right hand to the floor as her hand made an impact with Victor’s face.

SMACK! Right across the face. The sound echoing across the grand hall loudly.

She let out a sob as she spoke, “How dare you?! IF YOU FELT THAT WAY, WHY DID YOU ASK ME TO MARRY YOU?! WHY DID YOU KEEP ME IN YOUR LIFE?! WHY BOTHER LOVING ME WHEN SHE MAKES YOU HAPPIER THAN I CAN?!” She screamed at him, her whole body growing numb with pain and sadness.

“Are you just toying with my feelings now?! Do you even love me!? DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT ME?! OR WAS EVERYTHING THAT WE HAVE GONE THROUGH TOGETHER A LIE!?” She sobbed, her heart unable to handle the unbearable pain. She let out a scream of pain.

She looked down, wrapping her arms around herself, she couldn’t even look him in the eyes, "Y-You told me…” Her voice ached as she swallowed, “You don't have feelings for her anymore the first time when we were dating. But I cannot help but wonder… Was that a lie too?"

Victor’s eyes widened in disbelief. There was a dull throb on his cheek as he brought his hand to it. The pain snapped him back to reality as he finally registered the unfiltered words that came out of his mouth.

“No, wait! I don’t mean anything I said just now! I promise that I don’t love her anymore! I love you! It’s always been you ever since! I promise I won’t leave! I don’t want to lose you… I can’t lose you…”

She shook her head, "..Don’t promise me you won’t leave. Just don’t leave. I don’t think I can handle another promise right now.”

“I- Then I won’t… but for now… just know that I won’t leave you again. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

She wiped away her tears, as she looked at him, "I don’t know Victor, I really don’t know trust you again… It's going to take a while to fully forgive you for this… What you said, r-really hurt..."

"I know. I know that I messed up and it’s not easily reversible.... You shouldn't have to forgive me for what I've done." His voice filled with sorrow.

"I regret doing this to you. You don't deserve to be treated this way… Not when all you’ve been is understanding and loving. " Victor took a step forward, gently taking her hand, the one that held her engagement ring. He gazed at that ring for a long moment.

"There is one thing that I don't regret though.." His thumb swiped over the ring gently. The shimmering gem glistening back at him. "I don't regret proposing to you, nor do I regret loving you." His voice came out softer, as he looked at her.

Cassie didn't flinch. She watched his actions, sniffling lightly, she was met with a soft and loving gaze. One that he had always given her.

Victor continued, "Cassie, Everything I've ever told you is all genuine, I love you and only you. That will never change. No matter where you are, or whatever timeline we’re in, I will always find you." He brought his other hand to her cheek, wiping away stray tears that still shed from her eyes.

"I know words cannot make up for what I did, but I will show you that I am sorry. I didn't mean to ruin this day for the both of us." He frowned.

"I may have had a history with Mia, but you are my future. And you are the only person I can see myself spending my life with."

Cassandra was at a loss for words. He always knew how to make her feel soft and warm, with just words alone.

She felt more tears well up in her eyes, however they were less of sad tears and more of happy tears. She couldn't hide the big smile on her face.

Victor smiled upon seeing her beautiful smile, he loved seeing her happy. She looked beautiful whenever there was a smile on her face.

Although in this moment, she looked even more beautiful.

“You’ve made it really hard to stay upset at you.” She let out a giggle as blush dusted her cheeks lightly.

He chuckled slightly, “Dummy… You are just very easy to please.”

“Just shut up and let me kiss you.” She shook her head, as she moved to wrap her arms around his neck.

He shook his head, smiling as he leaned in, still cupping her cheeks in his hands, placing a loving kiss to her lips. One that she reciprocated happily.

---

He slowly approached Mia as he called out to her. She quickly turned before letting out a small, regretful smile.

“Mia, I don’t hold any feelings for you anymore. I wish for you to respect that. I want us to keep a professional relationship as boss and employee in the future,” he spoke in his typical stern and unapproachable tone.

Mia’s smile dropped for a second before another bigger but faker smile rested on her lips. “Of course Mr Li. I apologize for stepping out of line.”

Victor gave a quick nod before returning back to Cassie, leaving a broken Mia behind. Tears welled up in her eyes, as her body collapsed to the ground, knees and legs unable to keep her up.

She quietly sobbed as she watched him walk towards the love of his life before picking her up in his arms, his eyes filled with adoration and pure happiness. ~ (Lowkey remembering how we wrote this ending and Rin was just adding more angst even though it is initially supposed to have a happy ending. That was a fun time for both of us XD)

#mlqc #mlqc fluff #mlqc angst #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #victor mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice

[alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom]

Chapter II: Overhelming city, just because of you!

Thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr​, you are a moodboard-goddess, this is stunning!

a/n: I hope you enjoy it, as much I did while writing it. English ist not my first language, so sorry for mistakes.

Pairing: ALEX x Reader

Spotify: Kiana Ledé & Jacquees - Only Fan

Words: 1875

Warnings: NSFW and smut, a bit fluff

Summary:  The day with Alex was perfect, but in the end you got an even bigger surprise.

Chapter I

,,Are you ready for breakfast?" She shook your shoulder. "Hey Y/N, wake up, we're late. I wrote Marco that we are going be in the lobby at 10 AM.’’ You never saw her so nervous, it was almost contagious. You only had an hour to get ready and eat.

,,You got his number?’’ You were surprised and start thinking if you’re going too slowly, just because Marco got Ana's number but Alex not yours.

You ran through the hotel room, searching for approppiate clothes and shoes. The light pink/red lipstick looked stunning on you.

~~·······~~

Ana and you left the breakfast buffet and stood now in the lobby. You got impatient. Janina woke you up for nothing, nobody was waiting there. She even asked at the reception, but they didn't know anything.

You were annoyed. It was beautiful sunny weather and you didn't want to waste any time waiting. "Come on let's go, we can do this on our own. They won't come." You went backwards and waited for her to come with you.

,,I hope you like red roses’’ Suddenly you heard this familiar voice behind you. 

,,We are late and I don’t want you get angry, so I brought you this rose. I hope you are not mad.’’ He was visibly happy to see you again. His bright blue shirt matched exactly with his eyes, he looked amazing.

He lifted you up so that only the tips of your toes touched the ground. You hugged him tight, like he did.

Marco and Alex rented bikes, so you could change quickly the places. You were impressed by the beauty of this colorful city.

~~·······~~

You stopped at a park. They prepared a picnic for lunch. It was so cozy to lay on that blanket; you closed your eyes to feel the sunbeams warming your face. You felt Alex searching for your hand. His thumb stroking the back of your hand. Your hand squeezed his, signaling that you liked his touch.

You turned your head to the other side looking for Ana. Marco was lying on the top of her, kissing her slowly. They were hidden behind a tree, so you couldn’t see what they exactly were doing. You looked at Alex again in the hope he also saw that, so he maybe would kiss you too, but he didn't.

You broke the silence ,,I want to go up there’’ And pointed with the other hand to Tivoli’s ferris wheel.

,,The view up there is beautiful. Good idea." He sat up and glanced down at you. It was a perfect situation to kiss you, so you took a deep breath.

But Alex got up and went to Marco. "Marco!’’ He yelled.

"Hey, Marco! He yelled again. He was too busy, kissing her neck.

,,Hey lovebirds, you can continue at home, let’s go to the ferris wheel’’. Marco seemed a little bit annoyed, that you disturbed them, but after a minute he was laughing and smiling again.

You got on the ferris wheel and were a bit nervous. The sun was slowly going down, so the view turned out to be much better than expected. The wheel started to move, and you reached for his hand. To be on the highest point of the wheel was a magical moment.

You looked at Alex and said quietly, 

,,Thank you…this is an overwhelming city, but just because you’re by my side’. He touched your chin so lightly that you barely felt it, like he was afraid to hurt you.

His bottom lip touched yours, he was so nervous that he wasn’t even breathing. You closed your eyes, to feel the kiss more intense. Your knees were shaking, you felt the kiss all over your body, that you almost got dizzy.

It got cold as soon as the sun went away. Alex and Marco had a surprise for Ana and you, so couldn’t go straight to their apartment, they said, so you went to the hotel first to take a shower and then to their home for dinner. Ana had the address, because you didn't still have Alex's number.

The building looked from outside discreet and a little bit old fashioned. Their apartment was in the top floor, so you took the elevator. You checked your make-up and hair in the mirror for the last time. Marco and Alex were leaning against the door frame as you walked out.

Ana directly jumped into Marco's arms and kissed him. Your shyness prevented you from taking the first step. You weren't sure whether you could kiss him or not and especially because he was the one who kissed you. Alex took you by the hip and pulled you to him. His lips awakened your feelings again.

He stopped kissing you abruptly. "Come in, our neighbors are too curious, I don't want to be their evening show".

The apartment was modern and decorated in a minimalist way. You could see hole Copenhagen through those huge windows. Alex did a room tour; you liked his grey bedsheets and the colossal jacuzzi in his bathroom. You imagined how hot it would be seeing Alex naked in there.

,, Why do you need a mirror above your bed?" You noticed how he thought about what to say.

"Hm, what do you think?" He grabbed your hips. You put your arms around his neck.

"Tell me." He nibbled on your lip before kissing your neck.

,,Because I want to look at your ass while you're riding me." He whispered in your left ear. You became goosebumps all over your body and you felt a cool wave running over your back.

His hand slipped over your ass. "You can also see yourself cumming while I please you with my tongue." He kissed him so rough that your back hit against the door frame.

"I would like to keep watching you guys, but we should eat dinner first, I'm so hungry!" Marco stared at you with a little smirk in his face. You nodded. Alex squeezed your ass before you let go of him and clapped it as you turned away.

You had absolutely no idea what Danish dish this was, but it smelled so good and the taste was even better. Marco was telling a funny story, but you noticed that Alex did not pay attention at all. He was staring at at your breasts. You were wearing a top with deep V-neck, the fabric was thin so he could see the pattern of your bra throught it. You leaned forward, to let him see more of your body and of course to provoke him. You ran your wet tongue over your lip and smirked. He took a sip from his glass, but his gaze remained on your decollete. You liked that game.

,,So how can you have so much time for us? We have already Tuesday and none of you went to work." commented Ana.

It seemed as Marco either Alex wanted to answer the question. 

Marco answered after a while. ,,We are actors, we play in the same series and finished shooting last Friday."

"Oh really, I hope you are not disappointed, if I never saw you on TV’’ you said ashamed.

Alex told you everything about it, how long they we’re acting and what the series is about.

,,To be honest, I’m really happy about that. I want you to love me Alex and not this character Ivar. Yesterday in the pub, we noticed that you didn’t know who we really are, so we decided to keep it secret for the moment.’’ He hoped you didn’t get mad. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't. You felt so attracted to him.

,,Should we give them our present now?’’ Marco whispered to Alex. They stand up and came back with two big golden gift boxes.

You thanked and opened it carefully to not damage this beautiful loop. 

,,Oh wow, is this a dress? How I deserve this?’’. It was a beautiful dark blue shimmering dress with the matching high heels, it overwhelmed you. You took the dress out of the box and discovered a second little box.

,,I want you to come with me to a charity event tomorrow, you will repent.’’ Alex said and took the diamond chain out of the little box, to put it on you.

"But Alex, I can't" You pressed the dress against your chest you to feel the soft fabric.

"No, why? Don't you like the dress?" He couldn't hide the disappointment.

,Yes, of course...I’d be glad to, but I do not necessarily wish to be on TV."

"I'll do my best to keep you out of the public eye, I promise."

"So if that is the case, I will be in the background, if you are ok with it.’’

,,Of course, there will be no cameras at the afterparty, don’t worry.’’ 

He hugged you and kissed you. ,,More wine? Let’s celebrate!’’ He raised his glass.

Marco and Ana had a lot more wine than you and were already pretty drunk. Marco ran to music player and started a playlist. The first song was Only Fan-Kiana Ledé and Jacquees. Ana and he went to the balcony and rocked gently in their own rhythm.

You loved that song. ,,I want to dance’’. You pulled him by the hand and pushed him onto the sofa. 

,,Keep your hands next to you’’ you said in a stern voice. Your hips moved according to the rhythm of the music. Your butt brushed his crotch and you heard a low moan. You went on your knees, your face passed his crotch again. You pulled with your teeth his zipper down, his dick nudged your jaw. The wine made disappear your shyness. You sat on his lap and moved slowly feeling his dick on your ass. Your hips did circles, up and down, side to side. His hands slid slowly under your shirt and grabbed you by the waist. They felled down, he squeezed your ass and pressed his lips against yours. You were already horny before the lap dance, but he didn’t know it.

You noticed Marco's eyes watching you through the balcony window, at the same time kissing Ana's neck. He smirked when your eyes met.

Alex stood up and walked into his bedroom. Your legs were around his waist, holding you tight so you couldn’t fall. He started to kiss your neck, his tongue traced over your breasts without touching the nipples and passed your navel. He teased you.

Alex forgot to close the door completely, so Marco heard your loud moan, when Alex finally reached your clit. Alex looked up to you and smirked. You took his head away from pussy, jumped on him and thrusted his thick dick into you, without warning him first. One short moan escaped his mouth. He glanced down at his cock and watched it disappear into your pussy again and again.

He let his head fall back and mumbled. "You're crazy"

,,Do you like what you see in the ceiling mirror, huh?’’ you asked him while making him a hickey on his neck. 

,,I could watch you for hours, elskede’’. You jumped harder and faster, hearing your buttcheeks clapping against his hips.

"Uh, yes." He groaned and smacked your ass with both hands.

He loved this roughness and couldn’t prolong his orgasm. You keeped the pace. Feeling his warm seed running out your pussy triggered yours.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you down. "Stick out your tongue" He bit into it and you whined. "Hush and kiss me!"

~~·······~~

Alex was still sleeping, when you stood up the next morning. You had to put his shirt on, because you didn't have any clothes with you. The shirt covered your ass and you didn’t wear underwear. Everyone was sleeping anyway so it didn't matter.

,,Do you want a cup of coffee?" You were frightened.

"What are you doing awake Marco?" Your nipples shimmered through the light fabric, so you tried to cover your breasts with your hands.

"I could ask you that as well" He poured himself a cup.

"I made too much and Ana is still sleeping. So do you want or not?’’ You took your cup and sat on the couch and saw Alex's belt laying on the floor.

Your shirt slipped up as exposing your butt cheeks unintentionally as you leaned forwards to pick it up.

,,I saw you having sex yesterday, he satisfied you well’’ He said in a jealous tone.

,,Weren’t you with Ana?’’

,,Ana was so drunk. She felled asleep little later."

You were so shocked that you didn't comment on it.

"I’m sorry, a gap was open and...-"

"and what?!" Your tone became brisk.

"- you were so sexy." You blushed.

"I won't tell anyone, don't worry.’’ He added.

You were confused. Did you like it or not?

Alex interrupted your thoughts. ,,Are you grabbing my girlfriend? Maybe you should ask for permission first.’’ He laughed.

Chapter III: I kissed you and you don’t even know

#alex høgh andersen #hvitserk #vikings #ivar the boneless #marco ilsø #alex&marco #valhalla #denmark #alex x reader #ivar x reader #marco x reader #hvitserk x reader

[bisexualdaemon]

mad woman (nessian)

a/n: In which Nesta copes and Feyre interjects

hello! again, new here ☺️ this kind of just...happened? the idea came upon me late talking with @harryandmolly​ idk anyways hope you enjoy! if you don’t like modern AUs then this probably isn’t for you, but if you’re into that sort of thing and all the warnings that go with it then I would love to hear what you think!

tw: angst, coping with death, sex work, language

original art by the incomparable charlie bowater

Things were great until they weren’t. 

Nesta Archeron had been engaged. She had a father who loved her and a sister she adored. Until the plane crash. Until a faulty navigational system sent her fiancé, her father, and her sister into the side of a mountain on the way to her destination wedding.

She had gone to Hybern early, to get settled and calm her nerves, to plan around the security that Feyre had hired so that Rhys could attend the wedding. Nesta had told her not to bother, Rhys could stay in Velaris for all she cared. She’d gone and set it all up anyway. But it had all exploded when Nesta got the call that her world had ended and all she had left was a sister she resented and a brother-in-law with too high a profile. She was a tragic headline. A fucking media circus. 

High Lord Rhysand’s sister-in-law left at the altar in tragic plane crash. 

The press camped outside her Velaris studio for weeks. They’d only left when she had thrown a maelstrom of empty glass bottles out of her windows at them. Empty because she’d come back to Velaris and crawled inside a whiskey bottle and stayed there. She might be more whiskey than person now. The days were passing at a rate she couldn’t gauge anymore. Had it been hours or days or months since she’d picked up the phone in the middle of placing name cards on tables in the reception hall? She didn’t particularly care. Everyone who mattered was dead and being drunk was better than counting the minutes since her future had evaporated. 

A knock sounded at the door. 

Nesta removed the eye mask she was wearing and squinted at her phone. 7:15 AM. She’d been up all night again, had just laid down to try and sleep. Who the fuck was at her door at this hour?

She knew but she opened the door anyway. 

Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court, was in the hallway looking worried. Well, Nesta assumed she was looking worried. She could only see Feyre’s furrowed eyebrows between the oversized sunglasses and the wide-brimmed sun hat. She had wrapped her red-gold hair, twin to Nesta’s own color, into a low chignon to hide it away from prying eyes. A disguise. Nesta snorted. Feyre Archeron could be noticed in this city by a blind man a hundred yards down a busy avenue. It was the way she carried herself, the easy confidence. No one could mistake her for anyone but their High Lady. 

“What do you want?” Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, blocking the view into her apartment.

“Well, to start, a little respect for the person who has been footing your liquor bill for the last eight months.” Her red lips were turned down at the corners, tight. She angled her head past Nesta’s shoulder and crinkled her nose, “God, I don’t even need to see in there to know what it must look like. I can smell it from here. And I can see you.” 

Nesta kept her face a mask of annoyance but considered how she must look. Compared to Feyre’s heavy cream sweater and perfectly tailored tan pants, anyone would look slovenly but Nesta knew she'd let herself go.

A while ago, she’d taken to wearing Tomas’ shirts to bed. Then eventually she wasn’t getting out of bed so it was all the time, changing only when she found the strength to shower. Today’s shirt—more like this week’s shirt if she was being honest with herself—was an old striped dress shirt, one Tomas had maybe worn twice with a suit. It now had several stains from whiskey and whatever takeout she had ordered last night. She couldn’t quite remember. Chinese? Greek? 

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Her marriage was supposed to be one of convenience. They had been friends, had both gotten older and then tossed in the towel on dating. Tomas needed a cover for a lifestyle his parents forbade and Nesta...well Nesta wanted to be comfortable. Nesta wanted her sister to stop meddling and leave her alone. At least, she thought she did. 

But, no one had known. No one except Elain.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. 

Her hair hadn’t been washed in days, it was matted in some places, stuck to her face in others. She knew her eyes were hollow, sunken in and lacking that fire people saw when they looked at her. She’d been avoiding her own reflection for weeks, had even covered the mirror by the door. Months ago, apparently. Eight months. 

Had it really been that long? Had she really been moving from bottle to bottle, takeout container to takeout container, for eight whole months? She’d barely left the apartment, had lost her job, happy to exploit Feyre’s seemingly unending pity. Pity she guessed had run out. 

Today. 

She didn’t care about that either.

“Come all this way to chide me, dear sister?” Nesta curled her lips as she moved aside to let Feyre through. Might as well let her see. 

“Thank you.” Her sister breezed into the little sitting area and stopped dead.

Her eyes scanned the room, marking the recycling bin first, overflowing with empty glass bottles. All different labels. Whatever Nesta could find quickest. Then the kitchen counters, filled with boxes of crackers and empty ramen noodle packages, cans of tuna and an open jar of peanut butter, anything that could be quickly consumed with minimal effort. She didn’t want to die, but she hadn’t exactly been concerned with living either. 

At last her eyes darted to the corner, over by the window, where a white dress hung from a hunting knife that had been punched through the wall. Straight through the center of the sweetheart neckline. Nesta had lost count of the weeks it had been there. A reminder. A memorial. Little circular burns littered the fishtail skirt, remnants of late nights with too much booze and an ashtray full of half-smoked blunts still on the windowsill. 

“Oh, Nesta.” Feyre’s hand came up to cup her mouth. Nesta raised her chin, refusing to feel reprimanded. “I’m sending Alis this afternoon.” 

“I can look after myself,” Nesta hissed through her teeth. 

“Clearly,” Feyre threw her arms wide and turned in a circle, “you cannot. You know I came here hoping you were getting better. I gave you space, knew you blamed me for what happened. At least partially. But it’s time, Nesta. I lost them too. But I don’t have the luxury of drinking and smoking my way into oblivion on my sister’s dime.” 

“Is this just about the money?” Nesta asked incredulously, “I’ll fucking pay you back if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“No, no,” Feyre brushed a lock of hair out of her face, frustrated, “it’s not the money. I don’t care about the money. Neither does Rhys. We just want you to come back to the land of the living.” 

“Ah, yes. The royal We.” Nesta sat abruptly on her sunken couch and leaned forward, not caring that she was just wearing a pair of underwear beneath the oversized shirt, “how is dearest Rhys? High Lording as well as ever I presume. Now with better reasons than ever to hate me.” 

“He doesn’t hate you,” she said too quickly, wringing her fingers for a moment before she whispered, “we...we missed you at the funerals.” 

Nesta’s blood ran cold. Her eyes swam with tears that wouldn’t fall.

“I know why you didn’t show,” Feyre couldn’t look at her, “I almost understand it...but we still missed you. Father was interred with full honors of the Night Court. I’m having a garden planted for Elain up at the estate. You should come see it when you’re ready.” 

Nesta really needed a drink. Feyre needed to leave. She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not today. Not ever. 

“Get out.” 

“Nesta—”

“Get out.” Nesta’s voice was low, lethal. 

“Fine,” the High Lady voice was back in full force, “I only really came to give you this.” She pulled out what looked like a business card from her freshly pressed pant pocket, “this might seem...forward. But, I think it might help you. Rhys and I use the service sometimes when we’re looking for something different. I know you won’t go see someone. This might be a different kind of therapy. Tell her I sent you, she’ll know what to do.”

“Fine, fine,” Nesta took the card from her, hoping it would get her to leave faster, “get out.” 

“Nesta,” Feyre stopped and took a breath, her hand wrapped around the doorknob, “please do be discrete.” 

Nesta furrowed her brow, but nodded. She had been, for the most part. Except on nights she was too blitzed to remember her own name, let alone that her sister was High Lady of this region. 

“I’m still sending Alis,” Feyre wrinkled her nose again as she opened the door and strolled out. And that was that. No goodbye. They hadn’t ever been good at those. 

Nesta blinked at the door, the apartment suddenly feeling small and cramped. She turned over the card in her hand. It had only a name and a number. AMREN. 202-555-0187. She flicked it onto the table. Whatever, she thought as she sauntered over to the kitchen and took a swig from the nearest whiskey bottle. 

↞↠

“Ms. Archeron.”

“Yes?” The tone of the man’s voice made her drop the place card she had been holding. 

“There’s been an accident. A plane crash,” he hesitated. Her eyes stopped seeing. Her body shivered with a bone-rattling chill despite the summer sun streaming into the room through the open windows. They couldn’t be—

“Say it.” Her voice was a breath on the wind. 

“There were no survivors.”

She didn’t hear the rest. Someone was screaming. A crash, glass breaking, warmth sliding down her leg. A sharp, metallic smell in the air. She couldn’t hear them calling her name, couldn’t feel their fingers gripping her skin, feel the pressure of the towel collecting the blood from the gash in her leg. 

A plane crash, he’d said. No survivors. 

Tomas was dead. 

Her father was dead.

Elain…she had just planted flowers for spring. 

A fresh scream ripped from her throat.

↞↠

She woke up with it echoing in her ears, heart pounding. Wrenching the fresh sheets off her clammy skin, she felt for the scar on her thigh, catapulting her back into the present. Nesta hadn’t let them stitch it for days, had wanted to remember. It had almost festered. Feyre had held her down while they numbed and sutured. Most of those days were lost now, either to shock or sleep, she didn’t know. It hadn’t taken long for the drinking to start. 

Her head was pounding. Alis had stormed the apartment hours earlier, tut-tutting about the stale stench, throwing open every window. Nesta actually appreciated the fresh air. She didn’t appreciate the old woman’s silent appraisal of her ruined wedding dress. 

“Don’t touch it,” Nesta had snapped. Alis had tut-tutted some more, cleaning as she went, but she left the dress alone. 

Now, with a clean apartment and nothing to keep her company but her own self-pity, she laid spread-eagle in her bed that felt too big in clothes that felt too clean. Nothing matched her insides anymore. The small, decrepit thing inside of her that shrivelled that day and rejected everything still living. Even herself. She had never been a particularly warm person, but Elain, sweet and beautiful Elain, had made her care about something outside of herself.

She got up to find something to dull her head. A bottle of ibuprofen sat on the coffee table, next to a decanter of scotch. She washed the pills down with the brown liquor and sat on the edge of the sofa, her head in her hands.

The silence pressed her on her eardrums. An oppressive lack of sound, only the barest of sounds audible on the street. Too quiet. For the first time in months it was too quiet. Her head shot up and focused, eyes darting to the card neatly placed in the corner of the table. 

Amren. 

What had Feyre meant, “a different kind of therapy”? Hell would have to freeze over before Nesta crawled onto a couch to talk about her feelings, Feyre had admitted as much. So what was this? 

She picked up the card and flipped it over. Simple, white, just the number in embossed black. The curiosity was going to kill her if she didn’t just call the number. She reached for her phone, hauled out from between the couch cushions by Alis earlier. It had been dead for weeks. She’d given up on ignoring the condolences calls and just let the battery drain. Probably why Feyre had shown up yesterday unannounced. She swiped past all of the missed call and voicemail notifications and pulled up the keypad. 

It only rang once. 

“Yes?” A clipped, cold voice answered the phone. 

“Uhh, is this Amren?” 

“Speaking,” her voice didn’t soften, “can I help you?” 

“My sister gave me your card,” Nesta didn’t like this woman. She wracked her brain to think of how this person could help her, especially when she didn’t particularly want anyone’s help. 

“And who, my dear,” Nesta could hear the snide smile in Amren’s voice, “is your sister?”

“Feyre,” Nesta huffed, “Feyre Archeron.” 

“Oh, Feyre darling! Why didn’t you say so?” Amren warmed immediately. Well, at least to a level above stone cold. “Yes, Feyre told me about you.”

“You must have read—”

“I don't read the news, dear girl,” Amren said, flippant. “I have someone perfect for you. I will send him. Already have your address.” 

God, she really needed to have a conversation with Feyre about boundaries. Who is she sending?

“Who are you sending?” Nesta had not been sober long enough for this. Her brain wasn’t firing quick enough to deal with whoever this person was sending to her apartment. 

“His name is Cassian. He’ll be at your apartment in two hours.” 

Two hours?!

“I can’t have anyone in my apartment in two hours! What is this??” 

“We call it therapy,” just like Feyre had, “you don’t need to do anything to prepare.” 

“But I don’t even—” The line went dead. 

Nesta stared at her phone. How could I prepare if I don’t know what to prepare for?

↞↠

Two hours later, Nesta was pacing. Nervous. She was rarely nervous but she was also rarely unprepared. This felt like a bad omen, like suspense in a horror film. Like this Cassian might jump out of the shadows at any moment from some secret portal. 

She had washed her hair but no makeup. She had put on leggings but no real pants. There were concessions she was willing to make and others she wasn’t. It didn’t matter that they were only concessions to her own pride. Feyre got one opportunity to meddle in Nesta’s life, one opportunity to try and control how she coped with losing everything. Nesta would endure it in her own home, in her bare feet, or she wouldn’t endure it at all. 

An assertive knock at the door made her jump. 

Her heart thundered. She hadn’t talked to a man in months, let alone been in a small space with one. Now there was one at her door. She padded across her expensive rug, smoothing her hair as she went. Her hand gripped the doorknob, giving herself a second to stop shaking. Breathe in, breathe out. She jerked the door open only to be left utterly speechless. 

The most beautiful man she’d ever seen was leaning on the door frame, forearms crossed over his massive chest. 

“Nesta?” one corner of his full mouth curved upward. He inclined his head behind her left shoulder after she nodded. “Gonna let me in?” 

“Why should I?” She challenged, angling her chin up at him. 

“Because,” his shoulder length black hair slid into his face as his towering frame looked down at her. He came closer and held her chin between his rough fingers, “you’re at least a little curious about what I’m doing here.” 

Nesta ripped her face from his hands and took a step away from him. His hazel eyes stripped her bare. How does he do that? He appraised her frankly, taking in her sloppily thrown together appearance. The baby hairs that clung to the side of her face, unable to stay in her top knot. Her soft curves that the oversized t-shirt she wore only hinted at. All the way down to her toes, the cracked polish left over from her wedding manicure, just a couple of splotches of color left. 

His gaze sent a warmth through her. She tried to will it away, send it back to the hell she belonged in. Shaking her head, she stuck him with a glare. 

“Fine,” she stepped aside, “come in and tell me what you’re doing here so I can tell you to get out.” 

He walked in smoothly, his gray slacks gripping his toned thighs with each stride. Too casual, Nesta thought, for a therapist, especially with his white shirt open at the collar and rolled to his elbows. Not that she actually believed whatever this was even approached therapy.

He stopped in the center of Nesta’s living room and turned, giving the place as detailed a once-over as he had given her. His eyes only paused briefly on the wedding dress still hanging in the corner, but he faced her again as if nothing were out of the ordinary. 

“So,” he took up so much space as he spoke, too big, too much life for this apartment that had only contained her hollow soul for so long, “everyone up to this point has referred to this appointment as therapy, correct?” 

“Yes,” Nesta replied, curt. “But you’re no therapist, are you, Cassian?”

He snorted, a challenge to her fire temper. She didn’t like to be mocked and somehow he knew that. “No, I’m no therapist.” 

“I’m what is referred to in the circles you run in as an escort, a friend, of sorts.” He looked her dead in the eye. No shame, no fear. Just a professional. “We call it therapy, first and foremost for discretion, but also because I’m here to make you feel better. Feel alive again. In whatever form that might take.”

Nesta stiffened. Her mouth dropped open. No. “My sister sent me a hooker? You’re telling me that, my sister, the High Lady of the Night Court, sent me a hooker?!” 

She could barely keep up with the 100 mile an hour thoughts racing through her head. It wasn’t long before the pacing started again. Feyre said she uses the service sometimes...with Rhys?! She maybe could have guessed that her sister and her ass of a husband were freaky but prostitutes?! Couldn’t they just ask someone? 

Nesta, please do be discrete, she’d said as she walked out the door. She guessed paying for silence was easier than risking a secret. Money is always the best form of currency. 

Well, I guess I fucking know why. And she set this up for me?! What in hell’s fire did she think she was doing?

Cassian just stood there while her brain worked, while it exploded with all of this new information. So still, a statue compared to her frantic pacing. He must deal with this a lot. But wait, don’t people usually know what they’re asking for?! 

“You’ve never–“ she couldn’t finish the question out loud. Sharing was something foreign to Nesta even when she wasn’t talking about sexual partners. 

“No,” he shook his head, “Amren wouldn’t have sent me here if I had. She just told me the context of the visit.”

“So, you’re here,” Nesta stopped in front of him, “to have sex with me?” The words came out a whisper. They sounded so foreign, so ridiculous. 

“I’m here to help you.” He took a step toward her. The walls came down fast.

“And why do you think you can help me?” The words cut through the space like a knife. Accusatory, incredulous, they almost stung passing over her vocal cords. 

“Because, dear Nesta,” he took another step toward her, and another, “I’m very good at helping people.” 

The warmth in her blood returned and warred with the acid coursing through her veins, the hate. It came raging back from this morning, from the past months, from ten minutes ago when this cocky prick knocked on her door. He was staring again, close enough to have to look down at her, just an inch or two from touching. 

“I don’t need help from a high-dollar whore,” she spat. The only sign that she’d hit her mark was a faint twitch in his eyebrow. 

“I’ve been called worse, sweetheart,” he drawled. “But let’s get one thing straight. I think you need help more than you’d ever admit. I don’t think you’ve taken a breath since then. I read the papers. A beloved dead sister. Absent from the funerals. You blame yourself for not being there, for not dying with them. The guilt warms your bed at night while you lie awake, as much a part of you as the alcohol that twinges your breath. It’s become so familiar you don’t remember what it’s like without it. Who would Nesta Archeron be without that dark stain on her conscience following her like a storm cloud? Will all those liquor bottles I saw outside answer that question for you? Will that tattered wedding dress?”

“How dare–“ she felt the door press against her back, unconsciously moving with him while he lashed at her burning soul, fire for fire. 

“Oh, I dare,” he continued, planting his hands on the door behind her, trapping her with his eyes. “Because take it from someone who knows, when you decide to wake up and live with what you have left instead of existing with everything you’ve lost, there may not be anything left to live with. And trust me, guilt makes a very lonely bedfellow.”

Nesta had barely blinked this whole time, refusing to let him have that victory. Even if everything he’d said had hit home. Even if everything he’d said had flayed her open and raked her insides across the coals. She still burned with that unyielding rage. 

“Is that what you say to all the girls that pay for your time?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. She was close enough to smell him, the warm spice of clove and sandalwood with a distinctly male musk. It was intoxicating. It was infuriating. 

“Some. Some of the men, too. I’m an equal opportunity tough lover.” 

She swallowed hard. He was close enough that if she moved an inch his hair might brush her cheek. “Is that what this is? Tough love? For someone you just met?”

“It’s the truth,” his breath tickled her face, the tension crackling like static electricity around them, “isn’t it?”

He sounded tentative for the first time, like maybe he’d overstepped. Is it really so obvious?

“Did Feyre pay you to say those things?” Or were they just written so plainly on her face?

“Nooo,” he said, lower than before, gentler, raising one of his hands like he might stroke her cheek. She cursed herself silently for hoping. He came closer then, his lips a hair’s breadth away from her ear, “Feyre paid me to fuck you senseless.” 

Goddamn him. Fire shot into her veins. Not the simmering fury of her anger but something deeper, hotter, pooling in her core. Her breath caught in a little gasp and he smiled. A wide, full grin with teeth that made him look more predator than man.

Her body was a traitor, but it made no difference. She was already burning in hell.

Cassian held still, letting her make the next move. Part of her wanted to make him stand there forever, punish him for what he said, what he knew about her, daring to say what no one else would with just one look. A different part of her wanted to rip him apart. 

“Come on, Nesta,” a prince of cats toying with his prey, “show me that fi–“

Her lips crashed against his. God, he was big. She reached around him, fingers tensed to claw at his back, and savored the muscles and sinews that made up the terrain. He pressed her into the door. His hands cupped her face, so gentle for a kiss that was anything but. Flames licked her skin everywhere he touched, at every point their bodies connected through clothing.

He leaned and gripped and suddenly she was taller than him, her legs wrapped around his middle, his fingers pressed into the curve of her ass. She gripped the sides of his face and guided him to the side, forcing herself deeper, her tongue brazenly exploring his mouth. He even tasted wild, like fresh mint and adrenaline. Her heart beat in her ears, deafening over the silence of the apartment. He moaned, so deep it vibrated in her chest.

Nesta broke first, pupils blown and breath ragged.

“Finally shut you up?” she asked, sagging back against the door, her head falling against the wood with a low thud. 

He….well, he growled. There was no other word for the sound that rippled through his whole body and found a home between her legs. Her toes curled and she thanked every god that he couldn’t see. 

“Pretty little acid tongue,” he pushed them off the door and walked her toward the bed, almost tripping twice over the plush rug. Nesta didn’t notice. She was too busy tearing at the buttons down Cassian’s chest. Each one revealed inch after inch of smooth golden skin. Licks of black ink stretched from his shoulders, mostly hidden by more shirt. She huffed, trying to shove it off, but instead caught his nipple by accident with her nails. 

His nostrils flared as he hissed and dropped her unceremoniously on the mattress. She bounced, breathless. Dangerously close to a giggle. Traitor. She schooled her features back to bored disdain. The only hint of lust was the glassy haze in her vision, honed in on Cassian’s bare chest. 

He had removed his shirt while she had been distracted by her traitorous body, discarded it somewhere above her. The black inked lines Nesta had seen stretched around his shoulders and down his arms in dark whorls and spirals. The tattoo was almost feminine in its pure decoration, a stark contrast to his cut biceps. It was beautiful. 

He was beautiful. 

“Careful, Nesta,” he chided, “someone might think you like what you see.” 

She gave him a filthy gesture. A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him as he took a step closer, his fingers grazing the outer seams of her leggings. From her ankle to her knee, where he stopped to make circles. He curved around her knee and gripped her legs, tugging her to the edge of the bed. The palms of his hands burned her skin straight through her leggings. He hadn’t tried to remove her clothes. She couldn’t decide if it was a tease or an insult. Probably both. 

“Are you just going to talk?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, “or are you going to do something productive with that mouth?” 

His eyes narrowed, “are you sure that’s what you want?” 

She wanted him. Damn her, she wanted him so bad she could barely stand to look at him. The guilt roiled in her stomach, that she should take pleasure while everyone she’d loved could no longer. He’d offered her help, but it would be her damnation. No, this was just a distraction. No amount of distraction could bring back Tomas, or her father, or Elain. 

Light from the city outside shifted and spread into the corner drawing her eye. The dress. Her wedding dress. In the night shadows, the blunt burns looked like angry, gaping voids. They whispered to her as she stared. Traitor, traitor, traitor. 

I’m here to help you. His words were poison. Bred from a kind of hope only Feyre, with her perfect life, could ever have again after what they had lost. Her want for Cassian’s body burned her from the inside, stoked the fires of the self-inflicted hell she’d cast herself into. Nothing more than a catalyst. She could take his body and burn for doing so, but she would not accept his help. 

“Cassian,” Nesta’s voice didn’t belong to her. She pulled her t-shirt up to just below her breasts, exposing her flat stomach and drawing his eyes to her waistband. “just do what you came to do.” 

The air chilled as he stiffened. Her heart raced, waiting for him, fingers teasing her bare skin. He didn’t move. She lifted a bare foot and ran it along his pant leg, coaxing him to touch her. He nodded, as if making some decision Nesta wasn’t privy to. His face, lit so beautifully by the moonlight, hardened into a mask. A smooth, smiling mask. Prince of cats no more. 

“Cassian?” 

“Dear Nesta, I do believe our time is up,” he leaned down and reached over her, his chest just grazing her belly, the only skin to skin contact they’d had. She swore she felt him shudder, but it was over in an instant. He quickly retrieved his shirt from behind her and pulled it on. 

She gaped at him, “what do you mean our time is up?” 

“I mean,” his eyes shot right through her with cool confidence, “it’s getting late and I do need my beauty sleep. I must be going.” 

“But–“ she didn’t understand. Isn’t this what he wanted? Isn’t this how he gets paid? How can he leave? 

He buttoned up his shirt, swift and efficient. Little feeling or warmth. Nesta wasn’t sure what to do. Confusion quickly gave way to anger, boiling in her veins, flushing her skin.

“So, you’re not just a whore,” she hissed, “you’re a bastard whore that can’t even finish the job.” 

“So lovely meeting you, dear Nesta,” he turned with a sweet smile and opened the door, sending any tension between them out into the hallway. He breezed through the door, clicking it shut behind him so gently he might have been a phantom. 

Nesta slammed her head against the mattress and let out a frustrated scream so loud she had no doubt the bastard whore heard it.

taglist: @sleeping-and-books @greerlunna @sjmships @cupcakey00 @queenestarcheron

Cassian’s POV is next ❤️

#acotar #acotar fic #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar au #acomaf #acowar #sarah j maas #sjm #my writing

[amethystpath-writes]

BTHB Communication Suddenly Cut Off

@badthingshappenbingo

Original work!

Communication Suddenly Cut Off

******

Hero adjusted her shoulder, elbow on the arm of her chair. "No way!" She dropped her spoon into her bowl of cereal. "She actually said that to him?"

On the other end of the line, Friend laughed. "Oh yeah. I don't blame her a single bit! I mean, he was borderline stalking her. You remember when we were at Max & Erma's and he dressed up as a waiter just to see her? Insane."

Picking her spoon back up and shoveling it into her mouth, Hero mumbled a 'Yeah, guess you're right'.

"So what have you been up to? I missed you at the party today. You doing alright?"

Bending forward with legs bent on the cushion, Hero put her bowl on the coffee table in front of her. She grabbed her phone with a hand instead of holding it between her head and shoulder. Hero was cramping enough without having to take up weird body positions.

"I'm alright," she said. "Just exhausted from work, you know?" Exhausted from fighting a villain you hopefully know nothing about.

Friend was silent for a moment. "I get it. It sucks not seeing you though. Maybe we could have a movie night." Her voice pitched at this. "Be exhausted all you want that way. I'll get us some popcorn. And! I'll get the nacho cheese stuff to sprinkle over it!" Hero smiled in her seat. "I'll pick up a few movies from Redbox, too, so we don't have to watch a bunch of oldies. Okay, that's it. That's the plan. Now," Friend hummed then began mumbling, "It's five o'clock and Mom needs eggs from the store. I'll try to be there by-"

The line went fuzzy, a quiet chshhhhhh. "Friend? Hey, you're cutting out." Hero stood from the chair, walking to the window. Maybe there was better reception there? If it was on Friend's end then it didn't matter much, but she could at least try. "Friend? You there?" She pulled the phone away, the screen of her phone lighting up. Hero was on a second call. No name though. Weird. She hung up, or at least tried to. The screen hadn't changed when she tapped the little red phone. Hero tapped it again, but nothing happened.

Next time she tapped the counting timer that told her how long she was on a call with Friend. The phone call returned normally and the other disappeared. She shook her head.

"H-ero? I th-ink-"

Hero cut to the chase. The call wasn't getting any better. "What time?"

Chshhhhhh.

Damnit, Hero thought, and peeked at her phone again. 'Unknown Caller' it read for a second time. "Hello?" she said impatiently. No answer. "Hellooo?" Nothing.

She hit the home screen, tapping the text message icon then tapped on Friend's contact. 'Hey. Phones are acting weird. What time do you think you'll be here?' Hero typed. Hitting send, a red and encircled X appeared. 'Message failed to send' it said below. She touched the X and then touched where it said 'Retry'. The X reappeared. Hero repeated the process once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "What the hell?" Her phone was slow sometimes, but never this bad. "She'll get here when she gets here I guess."

Her phone began to ring just as she tossed it on the couch across the room. Sighing, she went to pick it back up. 'Unknown Caller'. No. If it was important, they could leave a message or text her. Hero didn't pick up from numbers she didn't know, or from numbers that didn't appear on screen. She pushed the lock button on the side of the phone, rejecting the call.

"How rude, rejecting my call."

Hero froze. Her shoulders drew tight, her spine straightened so much that it cramped as badly as when she held her phone with a shoulder. Her jaw clenched and her eyes went wide, staring vacantly at the couch cushion in front of her. Was Hero breathing? If she was, she didn't feel it.

"Won't talk to me on the phone and now not in person either, hm?"

Goosebumps rose along her arms as she heard the villain stepping closer. How had he gotten in? She turned. "How did you find me? Where did you get my information? What else do you know?" Information being both her address and phone number, maybe even her specific phone if he was able to block her communications the way he did.

Villain looked so casual, he always did. You'd never expect him to be a madman who plotted humanity's demise. He looked like a fancy historian; brown pants, black turtleneck, plaid and half buttoned jacket. He had his hands planted in his pants pockets now. Hero still had no idea how he managed to get inside of her apartment.

He chuckled at her uptight-ness. "Can't we just chat for once- for a minute before you question my how-comings and motives?"

"No," Hero responded shortly.

Villain fake-pouted. "How's come? You and your friend seem great. I would love to gossip to you the same way."

Hero rolled her eyes. Her shoulders were still tense, but she was relaxing- not so far that she wasn't prepared, but just enough that she wasn't uptight beyond movement. "You didn't answer me. What else do you know? How did you learn anything about me?"

He smiled at her. "Now that's a fun story. Guess I get to monologue after all."

"Make it short."

"Or what?" He dazzled her with a wider smile, one that showed teeth. Was it just her or were they sharpened? It was just her, definitely just her- and her anxiety, her terror.

Villain strode to the chair Hero had been sitting in just minutes ago. He plopped down, ankle on knee, arms on either side. "Go on," he told her. "Sit."

"Maybe you should stand."

He chuckled without moving. "Darling, I don't think you understand how easy I have been on you. In multiple ways, actually." His eyes fell from her own to the couch behind her. "Sit." Villain looked at Hero again and she swore something changed in his eyes. They almost seemed darker. She obeyed.

"Now, I think you recall that little stalker of your friend?" Hero squinted, but nodded. "Did you know he's able to take up the appearance of anyone he wishes?" He didn't wait for a response. "In that, he's also able to project his own appearance onto bystanders, even control what they would do as him. Very talented, very...mindfully aware."

Hero shook her head. "Where are you going with this?"

He shushed her, softly, as if she was a baby. "He came under my employment about a month ago. Remind me," he said, "how long ago it was that your friend became ill."

Her eyes went wide and she nearly launched from her seat, realizing what he meant. Villain might attack her if she acted out so suddenly though. Hero remained seated.

"What have you done with her?" she demanded. It made sense what he said. Whoever his worker was, he made himself look like Friend 2 then made anyone else appear like him. But where was Friend 2 if she hadn't been with Hero and Friend all along?

"Nothing too dastardly. She isn't starving, but I'm sure she would appreciate a nice chicken dinner."

"And Friend?" she asked, somewhat panicked. Friend was okay, she had to be. Yeah, the phone call ended somewhat abruptly, but that was just because Villain interfered. Beyond that, she was fine, right?

Villain shrugged. "What do you think?"

Her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall. She shook her head. "Why are you here? What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself mostly. You're my opponent. I wanted to brag."

"I'll kill you," she swore. "If not tonight, I will find you like you did me, and I'll kill you when I do."

Villain's eyes twinkled from afar. "Cute. Very cute." He laughed heartily. "I told you already that I've been easy on you, right?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer. "I'm here for more than bragging rights. I want you to come with me. I've given you opportunity enough to back down on your own; I'm giving you another now. Come with, or I'll have to force your hand."

Her eyes became squinted and her lip lifted. "I'm sorry?"

"Surrender," Villain said simply. His legs uncrossed and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "If you don't I'll take you away forcibly."

Hero huffed a laugh. "As if you could. When have you ever bested me?" In truth, she was terrified. He was being serious, no amusement crossing his features. And the number of times he'd mentioned 'going easy on her'...what if he was telling the truth?

"Try something now then. Lunge at me." His lips were in a straight line. No emotion.

She considered him. Serious. He's serious. Villain was inviting her to attack him. Maybe she should take the opportunity.

Without another thought, she leaped from the couch, ready to tackle Villain, even though he was in a chair. She would have knocked the whole chair back if she could. But, something stopped her, a- a wall of sorts, one that glimmered like a bubble. "What-?" She touched that wall. Her fingers couldn't pass through. Shaking her head, she spun on a heel trying to return to the couch. Unfortunately she ran into another wall. "You're doing this," Hero muttered, facing Villain once again. She swallowed seeing his smile.

"So, you'll come with on your own. Otherwise I can push you along myself, and I think that would be rather humiliating, don't you?"

"This doesn't prove anything. You can push me, but you can't command me."

"Isn't it the same?" Villain sighed seeing Hero's fiery stubbornness. "Fine then. Let's have a little charade." He stood from Hero's chair, face forming into something...something Hero didn't quite understand. "I forgot to grab something to drink before I came here. Do you have something for me to drink, Hero?"

Her lips moved. "Yes, of course, Villain. Let me show you to the kitchen." Her hand flew to her mouth afterward. She hadn't said that. She hadn't said that. Hero's eyes found Villain's.

"Lead the way," he said.

Hero's feet moved on their own, leading the two to her kitchen despite how she tried to resist. She couldn't even feel herself pulling back. There was no resistance except for in her thoughts. She began unwillingly talking again. "There's some water bottles in the bottom right drawer. Fruit punch juice boxes on the left- though my younger cousin will be disappointed when she finds not only me missing, but her juice as well." 'When she finds not only me missing.' So this was how Villain would take her, by commanding her just like she said he couldn't.

What was almost worse was that what Villain made her say was exactly right. Water bottles, bottom right drawer. Fruit punch juice boxes in the left drawer. One of three things could have happened. One, Villain had that stalker, body-switching guy, go through her home while she was gone. Two, Villain himself went through her house while Hero was absent, or when he somehow snuck into her house while simultaneously messing with her phone today. Three, he had access to her mind. The last one would have sounded ridiculous if it weren't for the way Villain was controlling her now.

"You're realizing you have no choice now, aren't you?"

Hero nodded her head. She couldn't tell whether it was her doing it or if Villain was still possessing her. Either way, he was right.

"Why?" she asked. Villain tilted his head. Hero believed he could have gotten his answer if he wanted. Still, she continued, "Why are you doing this? Taking me? Is it not enough that you've taken my friends?"

Her body turned to the exit. She began walking through, walking to the front door of her apartment. They were really leaving. She was going to get sick.

"I'm tired of you fighting is all. It will be much easier to accomplish my goals if I don't have to worry about turning you away every time."

"Then kill me." She swallowed after she said it. Hero didn't really want him to kill her, but she also didn't want to be taken. Villain said Friend 2 was okay, not starving, but would certainly be happier if she was given more. Hero had a feeling she wouldn't be given the same treatment. Villain might actually starve her because of her putting a kink in all of his plans, for not surrendering when she was given multiple chances to.

"Am I really so awful to be around?" Villain asked behind her as she led the way to the elevators. "I should think my style makes up for any unpleasantness. This jacket was bought yesterday. I'm rather dashing in it, aren't I?"

Just as unwillingly as before, Hero said, "Yes, very."

******

Requests are accepted!

#not a prompt #long post #hero x villain #creepy villain #creepy whumper #hero whumpee #vilain whumper #prompt: communication suddenly cut off #fandom: original work

[yikesharringrove]

Just Play Along

2/2 giveaway fics for my 1k follower celebration! This one is for @sciscoekid​ who requested fake dating!

Read on Ao3

Steve was staring at the paper.

It was nice paper, that thick cardstock reserved for events like this one.

Theodore and Karen Wheeler and proud to announce the marriage of their daughter, Nancy Elizabeth Wheeler, to Jonathan Matthew Byers. 

She’s getting married. And gave Steve a plus one he can’t fill to a destination wedding he can’t afford. 

Awesome. 

Billy pushed past where he was standing in the kitchen, Steve barely budging at all.

“You okay, Pretty Boy?” Steve and Billy had lived together for nearly six years now. 

It had been an accident, how they wound up together. Billy used to live across the hall from him, but as fate would have it, he was being kicked out by his then-boyfriend, while Steve was kicking out his then-girlfriend. 

Steve was red-faced, wine drunk, pissed off at his cheating girlfriend, had pointed right at Billy. 

“You a fucking cheater?”

“Nah. Bit of a drinker, though.”

“Great. You’re moving in with me.”

So the room that had once been Steve’s girlfriend’s craft room, was turned into Billy’s bedroom. 

And it’s stayed like that since. 

Billy whipped the invite outta his hands.

“Who’s this?”

“My ex-girlfriend.” Billy raised one eyebrow at him. “From high school, not the cheater. Although, I mean, she didn’t cheat on me, but we never really broke up and she started dating this guy,” Steve pointed to the invite, Nancy and Jonathan staring lovingly at one another. “And now I’m gonna go to their wedding alone, because I’m a fucking loser and-”

“Okay, deep breath.” Steve stared him down, taking a comically short breath. Billy stared at him. He took a deeper one. “Look, I can go with you, if you want.”

“It’s up in some resort town in Maine, and I’m broke as all hell.” 

“I can spot it.” Steve huffed. “C’mon, Pretty Boy. Let’s go, get wildly drunk, and have a good time. You haven’t taken more than two days off in like, a year and a half.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Fine.”

-

Steve had slept almost the entire flight. 

He got nervous on airplanes, had taken a sleeping pill for the cross country flight. He had curled against Billy’s side, drooled on his shoulder for a few hours. 

Billy watched him, the way he would snuffle, his nose twitching like a little rabbit. He smiled fondly at Steve, running one hand through his hair, trying to wake him up gently before touch down. 

“Sugar, we’re here.” Steve blinked up at him, smiling sweetly and all Steve pretty. 

Billy’s stomach fluttered. 

-

The town was beautiful. 

It was early fall, off season for a little resort town, and the main street was nearly dead. 

Billy drove the rental car to the boutique hotel. Nancy had rented out a block of rooms for all the guests. 

They pulled up, stretching as they got out of the car, Billy getting the bags from the back. 

“Steve!” He smiled stiffly as Nancy threw herself down the stairs, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.” She held him at arm's length. “Oh! And this must be your boyfriend. Billy, right?”

“Oh, he’s not-”

“Yep! Steve’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to her, shaking it firmly, elbowing Steve. 

Nancy led them into the hotel, chattering to Billy, asking them how long they’ve been together. 

“Steve never tells me anything, anymore. Of course, he’s mentioned you, but he never said boyfriend, just, you know, Billy did the sweetest thing today.” Steve spoke with Nancy every few months on the phone.

“Well, it kinda happened accidentally. We had been living together for a while, but we both just wanted something more, you know? Just couldn’t resist each other.” Billy was laying it on thick. 

They had reached their room, and Steve was gonna lose his shit. 

There was only one bed. 

Because Nancy had smugly updated them to a suite. A honeymoon suite. 

She gave them each a hug before leaving them to get settled in.

“Why did you go with it? Tell her we’re together?” Billy shrugged.

“Drive her crazy. Seeing your ex happier with someone kinda sucks, even if you are getting married.”

“What, so you’re trying to make Nancy jealous?” Billy grinned at him. 

“It’ll be fun. Just, play along.”

-

“Just play along.” Steve was mimicking snarkily. “It’ll be fun.”

He was in the huge bathroom in their huge suite. He was changing for dinner with the entire Hawkins crew, introducing them all to his fake boyfriend for the first time. 

He yanked on a sweater, combing through his hair one last time before sighing into the mirror. 

He’s been in love with Billy for years now. 

Pretty much ever since he’s moved in. And it’s hard enough, pining from across the hall for your roommate, but now a roommate that you’re sharing a bed with, and telling everyone you’re together, Steve is fucking over it. 

He let himself out of the bathroom, glowering at Billy. 

He was shirtless, going through his suitcase on the luggage rack at the end of the big bed. 

It’s not like Steve has never seen him topless, hell, Billy tends to walk around the apartment butt naked. 

But now Steve is in this predicament, and the last thing he wants to see is Billy’s golden, gorgeous body. 

Billy stood up, smiling at him. 

“You ready?” Steve nodded as Billy tugged on a button down shirt, leaving the top few undone, showing off his tan chest, a few of his tattoos. 

They were quiet in the elevator, and then, just as the doors were sliding open, Billy settled one arm around Steve’s waist, pulling him into his side. 

He smelled great, like the deep cologne he only brought out for special occasions. He leaned to Steve’s ear, made him shiver as he rasped,

“Play along, Sugar.”

He pulled Steve to the restaurant across the street, smiling at the hostess and saying Byers-Wheeler wedding?

Everyone cheered when they saw Steve, and his heart panged a bit. He really needed to get back to Hawkins more often. 

Hugs were passed around, and they all found their seats. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you and Billy had started dating?” Steve smiled at Joyce sheepishly. 

“It was such a natural transition for us, I guess. We just kinda, fell into one another.” Steve’s pretty sure he heard that in a movie or pulled it right from a shitty young adult novel. 

“Well, you two are sweet.” She smiled at them. 

And Billy swooped forward, kissing Steve right on the cheek. Steve’s face burned. 

“Oh, come on! Give him a real kiss!” Steve glared at Dutin as the whole gang began jeering at them, wolf-whistling and causing a damn commotion. 

Steve shot the rest of his wine, grabbed Billy’s cheeks, and planted a fat one on him. 

-

They were quiet as they made their way back up to their room, Billy trudging a few feet behind Steve. 

He was terrified he had overstepped his bounds by kissing Billy. He had been so quiet after that, so drawn into himself through the rest of dinner. 

He sequestered himself back in the bathroom, changing into his pajamas. 

When he returned, Billy was sitting back in the bed. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I just wanted them all to shut the hell up.” He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. Billy watched him for a second, smiling up at him. 

“Nah, Pretty Boy. It’s okay. Just not the way I woulda done it.” Steve swallowed thickly. 

“What does that mean?” Billy stood up slowly. 

He walked forward, made Steve feel small, made him feel like Billy took up all the space in the room. 

He took Steve’s wrist, tugging him close to his body. 

Steve’s breath hitched as Billy slid his arms around his waist. 

When their lips touched it was nothing like in the restaurant. 

They both moved slow, just a gentle press into one another. 

Billy's hands were warm, searing his skin through his shirt. His lips were as soft as Steve had always thought they’d be, dreamed they’d be.

He pulled away, Steve’s eyes still closed. 

“That’s how I woulda done it.” And he was gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him. 

Steve pretended to be asleep when he came out of the shower. 

The bed dipped behind him. Billy always ran hot, ran like a fucking furnace. 

He scooted closer to Steve in the small bed. The sheets were soft. Billy tugged on the blanket, and Steve was scooched back.

His eyes were wide in the dark, his back pressed against Billy’s side. 

Billy breathed deeply. Steve’s sweatshirt had ridden up in the back, and their skin pressed together. 

It felt like Steve was being burned, Billy’s skin so hot against his. He tried to get away, but the soft mattress gave too much, kept rolling them into one another. 

“Relax, Baby.” Billy’s voice was gruff. He sounded half-asleep. “Can hear you thinkin’ from here.”

“Sorry. Goodnight.” And then Billy rolled a bit more, his front pressed into Steve’s side. One thick arm draped over Steve, and all the air was knocked right from his lungs. 

“‘Night, Sweet Thing.”

-

Steve had avoided Billy at all costs the next day. 

He had gotten up before the sun to go on a run, get breakfast from a little cafe down the street. 

He only saw him back in the room, both their wedding suits hanging neatly on the bathroom door. 

“Hey.” Billy’s smile was relaxed. Steve’s was less so. “You ready for this shindig?” Steve just nodded. 

-

The ceremony was short and sweet. Nancy looked beautiful in her delicate lace dress. Their vows were lovely, and Steve definitely teared up. 

He was able to avoid Billy more at the reception, staying on the dancefloor and not looking towards his seat next to Billy’s. 

Until he turned around, turned around, and saw Billy pressed against a cater waiter, smirking down at him like he was gonna eat him. 

Steve took a shaky breath. 

And Billy looked up, bright blue eyes meeting his across the way. 

And Steve ran. 

The reception was outside, made it real easy for Steve to sprint down the road. 

“Steve!” He kept running, put his head down, and went. “Steve, can you slow down?” Steve stopped abruptly, his chest heaving. He flopped onto a bench, tugging his jacket tighter around him. Billy slammed down next to him, panting hard. “Christ, Pretty Boy, you’re a fuck of a lot faster than I was expectin’.”

“Swam in high school. Got a lotta stamina.” Billy huffed a laugh. 

“Any reason why you needed to do a quick 5K?” Steve bit his bottom lip. 

“It’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not, Stevie. Never dumb when it means somethin’ to you.” 

“I just, I uh, you were flirting with that waiter.” His heart was pounding in his chest. “Gonna blow our cover.”

“That’s not why you freaked.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Nope.”

“Yes!” Steve was starting to get frustrated, Billy didn’t know him like that. 

“Nuh-uh.” Billy did know him like that. “Just tell me what’s buggin’ you, Baby.”

“It’s that! It’s the Baby and the Sugar and the sleeping all pressed together, and the that’s how I woulda kissed you and just fucking all of it, Billy!”

“I don’t, I don’t know if I understand.”

“Billy, I’m in love with you! Have been for fucking ever, and it was fine, but doing this, pretending like this, it fucking hurts Billy.” He turned away to swipe at his eyes.

“Baby-”

“Don’t.”

“Just hear me out-”

“Billy, it’s okay. I know you don’t feel the same and-”

“Who said?”

“Who said what?”

“That I don’t feel the same.” Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest. 

“I just, you never said anything.”

“Neither did you.” Billy was staring intensely at him in the fading light. 

And Steve didn’t think. Didn’t want to think. 

He swung one leg over Billy’s lap, settled his weight, and fucking kissed him. 

It was nothing like either kiss. It was real, and sweet, and Steve can’t remember the last time he’s been kissed like this, like Billy was simultaneously stealing the breath right out of his lungs, and breathing new life into his body. 

They both pulled away, breathing hard, staring at one another. 

“Fuck,” Steve breathed.

“My thoughts exactly.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

[prairiesongserial]

16.1

The lights on the burlesque stage went out just as Friday’s brassiere fell open - the timing of which she and Abernathy had been practicing for days. The crowd was so reactive that Friday felt the whistles and applause reverberating in the floorboards as she hustled off the stage. It was a louder reception than she was used to. She’d had fans at the Ace, but unlike the burlesque tent of the Madsen and Graves Circus, the Ace was just as much about drinking and catching up with friends over cards as it was about the girls.

Behind the curtain, in the tiny staging area, Beatrix was getting ready for her fan dance - she always did the finale, and it was always the same act. Friday had picked up the importance of crowd control since she first started hanging around the burlesque tent. With just cloth tent-flaps between yourself and a crowd that had been waiting a year for the circus to come through town, it was important they understood when the show was over.

A little girl popped through the curtain behind Friday while Friday was still trying to fix her brassiere back in place.

“Hey, baby,” Friday said, shooting her a smile. Jaelle, All-Fair’s kid, had been working the crowd. It was odd - usually Johannes did the burlesque tent himself, or at least got one of the men to do it. They blended in better. On the other hand, looking at the dozens of rings jammed on Jaelle’s fingers and the watches crawling up her arms, maybe the kid was the right choice.

“Hello, Miss Friday,” Jaelle said. She deposited her goods in the tin lock-box that Abernathy would come collect at the end of the night, turning the key with an air of great importance. “Can’t stay and chat - Johannes has me working every tent in the circus.” She heaved a sigh. “Bury me standing - I’ve been on my knees all my life.”

Friday had no idea what Jaelle was talking about, but the kid took off before she could ask. The circus would be winding down, now that the burlesque tent was putting on its last show. Friday threw slacks and a shirt on over her sequined underwear, still soaked in sweat from performing. She needed an ice cream cone before the stall packed up for the night.

When Friday left the tent, she was abruptly reminded that this was no ordinary show.

Her boots tread on grass, but there was no sky here. Despite the fact that it should have been past ten at night, dozens of lights high up on a domed ceiling gave the impression of daylight. Johannes’s amplified voice reached her from the main tent as he announced the last attraction. All at once, the lights on the ceiling shifted from yellow to orange to red, performing dusk in a matter of seconds. If not for that, the effect would have been eerily realistic.

Friday got a strawberry cone from Di and decided to wander over to the main tent. Might as well.

The last act in the main tent was fire-hooping, which was worth watching. The twin clowns had shed the baggy overalls from their tumbling routine and now wore form-fitting red and blue harlequin outfits as the flaming hula hoops arced through the air in perfect sync. Not only were the fire-hoopers impressive, but when the flames were extinguished at the end of the show, it made for a powerful symbol. Lights out, go home.

Friday felt the lightest touch against her back pocket. Most people would have written it off as the movement of displaced air as someone nearby walked past. Friday jerked her hand back and caught a slim wrist.

“Damn, I’ve been made,” Jaelle whispered.

“It’s just me,” Friday said, letting go. She beckoned Jaelle forward. “See that cluster of people three rows ahead of us, a little to the left? Heavy purses.”

Jaelle squinted in the direction Friday had indicated.

“Thanks, Miss Friday,” she said, then disappeared into the crowd again.

On stage, one of the clowns tossed her hoop up in the air, tumbled through the center of her twin’s hoop, and caught the one she’d thrown on the other side. The crowd clapped. That was the perfect moment to pick pockets. People’s hands were occupied, it was noisy, and the whole tent was filled with vibration, making little touches harder to notice. Friday felt the urge to check her own pockets again.

She did wonder at Johannes’s directive to go hard on pickpocketing this show. They were underground - had actually had to pay a toll to get into this giant bunker - and only after the steel door had been sealed behind the circus caravan had Friday learned that this was Washington, DC; home of Hemisphere Central. If Jaelle was caught picking the wrong pocket, that pocket had a pretty good chance of belonging to a powerful mobster. And the circus was trapped in here.

It was interesting how the Madsen and Graves circuit just happened to hit so many Hemisphere towns - from Everglades City to the accidental run in with the Good Guys - and now Central itself. No, interesting wasn’t the right word. At this point, it was almost boring, how obvious it was that Johannes was planning on handing her, Val, John, and Cody over to Hemisphere. Friday had finally tested her L-shaped pin against those used in the trailer hitches, and it was a perfect match. Johannes was trying to kill them, and Friday didn’t have a next move.

The fire-hooping ended with the lights shutting off just as the fires were extinguished. When they came back on, Johannes stood center stage to announce that the night of spectacle had come to a close. He’d changed backstage, and now wore a sequined suit - the left gold and the right black - and a cream cravat with a gold pin. Also cream colored was the porcelain mask that covered the top half of his face. Strange.

“Thank you all for coming to our show - that’s all the entertainment we have for you tonight. We hope you enjoyed the feats of athletics and wonder of the Madsen and Graves Circus.”

Friday spied Enis climbing down the ladder of the crow’s nest from which he controlled the lights. The crowd began to move toward the exit.

Friday wondered what Val thought about all this. She hadn’t tried to talk to him since he came back from Monocacy, but she’d pieced together from the gossip that Johannes had kissed him, it hadn’t been appreciated, and Val was pissed about it. Di, who was approaching sixty and had likely been with the circus since before Johannes was born, had called Johannes a dog and spat on the ground.

The crowd cleared the main tent surprisingly quickly - there were whispers of stopping at home to get changed. Interesting. Apparently the Madsen and Graves was the unwitting first half of a double feature.

As the last of the crowd left, circus members began to file into the main tent. Not unusual - after a show, there were sometimes special instructions for striking the sets. Friday saw Val hanging around the edges, and John and Cody front and center. She made her way over to Val.

“Catch my show?” she asked him.

Val looked at her, made an embarrassed face, then looked back to the stage.

“Would you rather I said yes?” he asked.

Friday smiled to herself, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“A girl can dream,” she said, and winked at him. Val rolled his eyes. For a second, the summer had rolled back to the start, before John, Cody, and the fire. The reminder of how things used to be made Friday forget what she wanted to say next.

“Alright people, gather round,” Johannes called out, tipping the mask up to show his face. “You all know your strike teams, but there’s a little change. Enis and Abernathy are standing in for me and Ezra. We’re gonna shmooze at the gala and see if we can’t get us some extra gigs next year.”

Ezra had joined Johannes onstage by this point. He too was dressed up, wearing a bright navy suit and polished red leather shoes. He held a red mask in one hand. 

Friday was surprised when Ezra projected his voice exactly as competently as his brother had.

“Once you’re done, feel free to go into town, buy things that aren’t good for you, and give Enis a hard time.”

The crowd of circus members laughed, and a few ribbed Enis.

“Alright, get outta here,” Johannes added.

Friday stole another glance at Val. His brow was furrowed, his eyes intense on the brothers as they descended the stage.

“Gala, huh,” Friday said. “Sounds like a high class affair.”

Val gave her the look that meant I know what you’re getting at.

“I’m just saying, beer and campfires are nice, but I’ve never been to a champagne-on-little-trays kinda party.”

Friday wanted to keep an eye on Johannes - to judge if this was going to be a planned handoff, or if he’d spend the gala advertising the bounties to interested parties. Either way, Friday needed as much advance warning as she could get. And if Val came to the gala with her, maybe he’d finally see Johannes for who he was.

“It’s a Hemisphere party,” Val said.

So don’t you think it’s interesting that Johannes is looking for work there? Friday thought. Come on, Val.

“No one’s gonna be looking for us there,” she said. “It’s a fancy ball. We’ll wear big sparkly dresses and masks and introduce ourselves as the stars of a not yet released Bellamy picture that no one’s even heard of yet. No further questions.”

“I’ll come, but I’m not doing that,” Val said. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

“Me? Trouble? Never,” Friday said, a wide grin growing on her face. “Come on, let’s find costumes.”

epilogue 15 || 16.2

#story

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

I’ll Be Ready

Summary: You’re tired of living with the ghost of Hannibal Lecter between you and Will after the infamous cannibal killed Abigail Hobbs and almost killed Alana and him, disappearing afterwards. Will sees some of the darkness he brought in you, and he couldn't help to think maybe it's his fault.

 Pairing: Will Graham x reader

 Warnings: angst, pregnant!Reader

 Word count: 2375

I entered the kitchen, my baby bump heavy as an anvil. I held the bottom of the bump while I poured myself some coffee with the other hand, breathing hard. It wasn't far, now. Two more weeks. Two more weeks to see the apple of my eye, the little person I already loved the most. It was a strong connection, so strong it scared me sometimes, to love someone I hadn't even seen yet. I carefully drank a few sips of the strong, black and hot liquid, moaning low in pleasure. Damn, good coffee. Will makes the best coffee. Strong, tasteful. Just as I liked. 

He was sitting in his armchair, his eyes blank while he drank his coffee. I sighed, walking to the living room and avoiding the dogs so I wouldn't step in any of them since I could barely see the floor because of the bump. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” I asked, bringing him back of his reverie, sitting at the arm of the armchair. He caressed my bump, still a little drifted away. 

I knew what he was thinking about. He had that look on his face. The blank, empty look that made shivers bite the back of my neck.

He was thinking about Hannibal Lecter.

“Will…” I lifted his chin with my finger so he could stare at me. Every time I realized the glow in his eyes no longer existed, that made me want to cry. His eyes seemed opaque, cold. “Please, stop thinking about him. You promised you would let him go. We can't live our lives with the ghost of Hannibal Lecter among us.”

There were no words to define and describe how much I hated Hannibal Lecter. How much I loathed him for what he put Will through in the last months, the prison, the trials. How it hurt to see Will behind those bars as if he was some cold-blooded murderer. In addition of all that, Hannibal killed Abigail Hobbs and almost killed him and Alana. I almost had a miscarriage when I found out, and all because of him. All because of that monster. Will took a lot of time to recover, could barely enjoy the pregnancy. Every time I thought about that man near my daughter, I felt so much ire that my face would turn hot and bright red, I would close my hands so hard my nails would hurt my palms and I just didn't feel like myself. That was the most animalistic feeling I've ever experienced in my whole life, and I… Truth is, I wanted Hannibal Lecter gone. Because he wasn't gone yet. Not with Will keeping him present with his thoughts. I could feel his presence, a black aura making the air cold and heavy. Sometimes when I was alone in my room and thought about Lecter coming back to hurt us, I would gasp for air, I would try to cry, but I couldn't bring up any tears. I didn't cry anymore. Something in me was different. Something broke that night Will almost died. I wouldn't let that monster near my baby. Ever.

Will seemed surprised, and looked at me, trying to read my face. Currently, every time he would try to read me he showed this confused and sad look on his eyes, but soon tried to hide it, like I was a damaged doll that could never be mended. That would break my heart even more. To think I was so damaged I was beyond repair. 

“You know I couldn't do that even if I wanted to” Will said in a husky voice, avoiding my eyes. “I feel like… I'm Janus and Hannibal is my other face. He's my past, my present…”

He stopped talking, and I felt my mouth dry. I couldn't believe it.

“And your future?” I asked abruptly, getting up and standing in front of him “Is that what you want to say to me? He's your future?”

He didn't answer, clenching his jaw. I covered my face with my hands for a few seconds, and he might have thought I was crying, but I started to laugh. A creepy, cold laugh that made my chest vibrate.

“I have to find him, Y/n. It's up to me. I have to end this.”

“What do you have to end, Will? Him? Or us?” I felt my nails hurting inside my hands again, but I didn't stop pushing them. “It's what you've always wanted. Him. You've always wanted to go with him.”

“You don't understand. No one does.” He replied, his eyes staring at the floor. 

“You better have the guts to look me in the eyes while you say you're leaving me to play serial killer with that, that… That thing.” I snorted, pulling my hair back. Will slowly raised his eyes to look at me, as if he had all the time in the world to do so. He got off the armchair, staring at me, so close he could kiss me. I could feel his breath touching my mouth, but I didn't back down, I kept staring at him. I felt hurt. Betrayed. And I wanted him to see that. All that heartache. How much it was tearing me apart. I felt the baby move in my bump; certainly, she was feeling something was wrong. I took his hand, putting in my bump so he could feel it. 

“If you leave, Will… If you leave to find that monster, I assure you, you will never see us again. And if somehow you find us, if you bring that thing with you, if you dare to put my daughter at risk… I will…”

I couldn't say the words. I knew I was crossing a line that had no point of return. I could see in his eyes he was heartbroken as well, all the coldness vanishing. 

“What are you going to do, Y/n?” He held my shoulders, his touch so soft I sighed. “What?”

I clenched my jaw, staring so deep in his eyes he might had thought I was staring at his soul. 

“I will kill him. If you bring that monster near my daughter, I will kill him and whoever dares to try to stop me. Because I won't allow him to hurt anyone I love anymore. You want to go after him, follow him like a pet?” I practically spitted the last word in a sarcastic tone “Be my guest. Leaving us is your choice. But I'll be gone, Will. I'll disappear from the face of the earth. You will never see us again. And I will repeat, if in any case you find us, and you bring that thing near my daughter, I'll bring hell to him. I'll do what you couldn't, what Jack couldn't, what Alana couldn't. I will kill him.”

I felt my lips retracted, showing my teeth in a savage look. And at that moment, I knew he could see it. The void. The rage. The black spot Hannibal left in me. He thought he could keep me away from all that darkness, but it found a home in me as well. I knew I would do anything in my power to protect my child, and he knew that too, now. 

“I love you, Will. Madly. Deeply. But I can't watch you destroy yourself. I won't. I won't allow that darkness to steal my baby's innocence. She will know only kindness and protection. Always. As much as I can provide her.” My voice was cracking as I said those words, knowing they wouldn't make him stay. Will's eyes were filled with tears.

“I can't give you what you need right now, Y/n. There isn't much left for me to reach.” He kissed my forehead, stepping away from me. I knew he didn't love me enough to stay. And that hurt more than anything at that moment.

An excruciating pain in my womb made me curve my body, holding my bump. Shit. 

“Y/n?” Will helped me, holding me by the waist. I stepped away, getting rid of his touch, touching the wall to sustain myself. I started to breathe hard. It wasn't the time yet! I still had two more weeks.

“It's the baby.” I said, holding the bottom of my bump. The pain stopped for a few seconds, coming back in a moment seeming to be even worse. I growled, clenching my teeth “The baby is coming. The baby.”

Will didn't even hesitated, taking the car keys from the table. My suitcase was already packed for the hospital, so I just put it in the car, waiting for him. I was wearing a dress, thank God, and he went inside to grab me a coat.

One more wave of pain, and this time, I felt a warm liquid run through my legs. I cursed in a low voice as Will left the house, closing the door with my coat in his shoulder. 

“Hurry, I think my water just broke” I said. “We might need a towel or something so I won't mess the car up.”

He stopped walking when he looked down my legs, his eyes wide. 

“No time for that, Y/n. You're bleeding.” He rushed me to get inside the car, and I felt my heart skip a few beats. No. No, please God, don't let me lose my baby. I tried to stay calm because I knew it would be worse for her if I didn't but, after a long time, I felt my eyes wet. I closed them for a few seconds, and tears wet my face.

Will drove like the wind, and after a few minutes, we were almost there. I was still bleeding, it wasn't much, mostly a pink color in the amniotic fluid, but I was desperate. I tried to hold my breath so Will wouldn't realize I was crying, hiding my face while I stared at the window, but he knew. He always knew. 

“Everything will be fine” He tried to calm me down, holding my hand. I pulled mine away, turning to face him.

“If something happens to her, I will never forgive you” I replied with coldness in my voice, cleaning my face with my hands. He didn't answer, but I saw how much it hurt him.

Finally, we arrived, and we rushed to the reception desk. A nurse sat me in a wheelchair, and I was directly to the labor room.

Xx

I was thrilled. Five days passed since the meaning of my life had changed entirely. She was a healthy baby girl and, despite the bleeding I had, everything went relatively well. We just had to stay a few more days in observation, because I've had preeclampsia and had a cesarean. I was breastfeeding her, looking at those dark blue eyes, her daddy's eyes. She looked so much like him. 

Will didn't leave me for a minute. He was there from the moment I went in labor, until he saw her for the first time. His eyes glowed, and suddenly, just for a moment, he looked like the man he used to be before Hannibal Lecter. The man I loved. He stared at us in awe, making me feel like a madonna with her baby. 

The phone rang. Will got up to answer it, allowing the call. 

“Who is it?” I inquired, seeing his smile disappear. I felt like I was being punched in the stomach. That face. Would he dare?

I quickly gave the baby to the nurse, getting up the bed with enough care to avoid breaking my stitches. 

“Give me the phone.” I practically commanded, taking advantage of the element of surprise, pulling the phone from his hand. “Of course you had the nerve to reach us in a happy moment like this. You're used to misery and you want to make everyone as miserable as you can.”

“Ah, Y/n. I wanted to congratulate both of you. A baby is always a blessing” I realized how much his voice tone had changed, simply because he didn't had to pretend anymore. He sounded malicious, cold. That was the real Hannibal Lecter. How the fuck did he know? My mouth felt dry all of a sudden. “I've sent a gift for her. I'm sure it will arrive in no time.”

“A gift?” I practically yelled, holding the phone so hard my fingers started to hurt “We don't want anything from you, Hannibal. We want you to leave us alone. We want you to disappear for real. That's all we want.”

“Ah, Y/n. That's very rude.” He said in a cynical voice, making me blush in anger. “How is Will? You barely let me speak to him. He's always in my thoughts, you know. Such as all of you.”

“He's fine. We're all fine. Living our lives without you to feed on our anguishes and torments.”

“Tell me, Y/n. Are you nursering your little one yourself?” He asked calmly. I was took by surprise, my face turning pale.

“Excuse me?”

“Amputate a man's leg and he can still feel it tickling. Tell me, Y/n, if someday your little girl disappears, where will it tickle you?”

My eyes filled with tears, and I felt like something was pressuring my chest. For a few seconds, I couldn't breathe, but my voice was still cold, even though it trembled a little.

“If you ever come near my daughter, you'll regret it. I assure you, Lecter. I'll make sure you never harm anyone else again. If I see you again, be sure, I will kill you.” I replied, the tears wetting my face.

“Y/n. How pleasant to see how I've changed you. We will meet again. Be sure of that.” The line turned mute.

I kept holding the phone, a little shocked from what I just heard. Will took it off my hand, hugging me and kissing my forehead. I hugged him back, hiding my face in his chest. I felt protected, despite everything. 

“You shouldn't have said those things. He won't forgive it, and certainly won't forget.” He said, caressing my hair.

“Let him come.” I replied, my voice tone cold and empty. “I'll be ready.”

#Hannibal #Will Graham #Mads Mikkelsen #Hugh Dancy #Will Graham x Reader #Will Graham Imagine #Will Graham Headcanon #Hannibal One-shot #Hannibal Imagine #Hannibal Headcanon

[klynn-stormz]

The Snow Falls Quickly

Merry Christmas @cocohook38, I'm your secret santa this year for @cssecretsanta2020! I hope that you have a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful weekend! Here is your gift, I really hope you enjoy it!

Summary:  Killian’s nightmares since returning from the underworld have been getting worse. When they end up with him sleepwalking into a snow storm Emma decides enough is enough. She’s on a mission to make sure her pirate knows what he means to her. Though first she has to find him.

AO3

Killian was confused, main street was completely empty. It was evening out, the sun had set not long ago, but still even Granny’s diner stood dark and silent. He kept walking, waiting for someone to call over to him. He hadn’t been back from the underworld that long, they finally had a moments peace, and he hadn’t had much rest. Plagued with nightmares of his time as a Dark One and of the underworld, he had trouble sleeping. Even more troublesome was when he had found out he had been sleepwalking. Emma found him in the kitchen mumbling and seemingly fighting something. He couldn’t sleep much after that, making sure to work himself into exhaustion to sleep a dreamless sleep for a couple hours at a time. The town appeared to be abandoned now, but it must be his imagination, his tired brain playing tricks on him.

While he longed to go and find where everyone was, he didn’t know how he’d be received. He had been a Dark One, the thing he had hated and hunted for centuries. The things he had done, how easily he had given in, weighed heavy on his heart. Now Emma was left to deal with him, to try to move him forward. She had suggested seeing Archie to try and work through his thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to go, perhaps he didn’t deserve to be saved. When Zeus had brought him back, he had been elated, he could finally be with Emma. However, the reaction everyone had to his return had been… less than receptive. He understood he’d been sent back at a delicate time, Robin’s death was not easy on anyone, but the only one who seemed happy he was back was Emma. Perhaps they hadn’t actually forgiven him for any of his misdeeds. Perhaps he deserved that.

“Of course, you do.” An eerie voice whispered through the night. “You think you deserve anything?”

Killian spun towards the voice, sword in hand, only to be met with an empty street and flickering lamp post. Hearing voices was never a good sign, it was time to go home. He started for his and Emma’s home at a quick stride, his eyes focused on his surroundings.

“Do you really think you can run from us?” A new voice now, higher in pitch, giggled.

He quickened his pace.

“Aw, he thinks he can go back home. Home? You think they want you there? You think anyone wants you there? It’s not your home, it’s theirs and you’re intruding.”

The last voice had him sprinting down the street, if he could just get to the house, everything would be alright. He was almost there, the lights on in the windows, Emma waiting up for him again. And then everything disappeared. He was standing in an emptiness, no up, no down, no here or there. All alone. His sword still in hand and ready to strike he rotated around, looking for whatever monster seemed to think he was prey.

“You won’t find us.” Once of the voices sang out.

“Show yourself coward.” Killian spat out, his heart pounding.

“Why should we, when you already know who we are… dearie?” The last voice had ice running through Killian’s veins. It couldn’t be, it wouldn’t be, he wouldn’t let it.

“Did you think you could get rid of us that easily? Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” The voices came together, whispering their bloodstained words around him.

The dark ones, those voices that had haunted his waking days. His body shook involuntarily, he took a breath and gripped the sword hilt tighter, they wouldn’t beat him.

“This is a dream.” His voice didn’t waver, though inside he screamed. “You’re not real, and you’re not here. I just need to wake up.”

“Oh, do you now?” The voices laughed, “Go on then, wake up.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t wake up. A cold dread washed across him. It couldn’t be real, how was it possible that it was back. The voices wrapped around him like a cloak, he felt like he was suffocating.

“Did you think it was that easy? Did you honestly think you were rid of us?”

“Leave me alone.” Killian gritted his teeth.

“Maybe it was a trick, maybe it was a dream.” The voices volume dropped to a whisper, echoing in the void. “You made yourself believe you had died a hero, that you were brought back because you deserve to be. Would you like to see what you’ve actually done?”

The scene changed to Storybrooke, but not how he’d last seen it. Buildings destroyed, roads cracked, trees felled. With utter horror Killian turned in a slow circle. The smell of smoke and death permeated the air. He stared at the fallen bodies around him and broke. He fell to his knees as his heart shattered into a million pieces. What had he done, what had he become?

“You did this. You think you’re good? You think you’ve changed? This is what you’ve become.” The voices swirled in the smokey air. His hand came up to clutch his head, covering his ears. He couldn’t reconcile the reality, he couldn’t believe he had done it, and yet it appeared he had. He had nothing now. The first tears began to fall.

As abruptly as the scene had change from the void to here, it shifted again. His arms were painfully yanked away from his head, he heard and felt a snap as they protested the movement. His head shot up and took in his new world. The underworld. Relief pushed through the pain, this had to be a dream then, he hadn’t hurt anyone. His relief was cut of by another punch of paid as a fist connected with his face. He winced as blood tracked down his face. Looking up he met Hades grinning face.

“Didn’t think you’d be rid of me that easy, did you?” Another blow landed on his cheek, was that crack the sound of his jaw breaking? “I wasn’t finished having fun with you!”

The torture lasted for what seemed like hours. Killian’s body began to numb with the pain. His vision faltered and blood dripped steadily down his face. He had long since stopped screaming in agony, his throat raw from it. When Hades finally left him, he sagged down in his chains and quietly begged it to be a dream. It would be the worst one he’d had, but if this was real. If him being brought back to life by Zeus, being able to be with Emma again, had been a trick… well he didn’t know if he could handle that knowledge. From his slumped position he spotted a wire, one that had been broken off from the cage he was in.

His body protested as he reached to pick it up. With a quick glance around to make sure he was alone, he set to picking the lock. It took precious minutes, the wire slipping from his lips multiple times as he shook with the effort, but finally his hand was free to pick the lock that chained his brace to the ground. When he was free, he stood up and nearly blacked out. Steadying himself against the cage walls, he breathed deep until he was sure he’d stand firm. The cage was easy to pick, he was out within a minute and running down a hallway he wasn’t quite sure where it led too.

The tunnel darkened and narrowed, soon he was just running through the emptiness again. A light appeared at the end and he knew if he could just make it to the end, everything would be alright. As he ran, he began hearing voices, from whispers to shouts.

“Nothing but a Pirate.”

“How can I trust you now.”

“You thought you could ever be a hero? Be anything?”

The voices only grew louder, shouting every insecurity, ever insult he’d heard. And they hit their mark. Were they right? He’d thought so, time and time again he’d tried to be better, yet he always seemed to fail. Killian could see the light fading; he would never make it. In despair he crumbled to the ground. He would never make it back to Emma, maybe he never had.

~~~

Emma woke to a quiet home in the middle of the night. For a moment she let herself lie there, soaking in a feeling of… well not peace, but close. Things hadn’t been easy since the Underworld trip, but with Killian back at her side she could rest a little easier. She turned to face him in bed and frowned when she found his side cold and empty. Where was Killian? Sitting up she looked towards the bathroom but found no light on there. His hook was still on the nightstand with his brace. Any peaceful feeling she’d had melted away into panic. In a rush she jumped from the bed and, in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, ran down the stairs. He was no where to be found. She focused on breathing as her heart pounded in her ears. He’d been having nightmares ever since he’d gotten back, even sleepwalking a few times, but never had he left the house, and he’d never left the house without his brace.

Grabbing her coat and hat from the rack and boots from the shelf, she raced to figure out how to find him. A tracking spell! She hadn’t used her magic much since being the Dark One, it made her feel weak and sick, but this was for Killian. Focusing as much as possible she whispered a spell on the jacket he wore, hoping to all the Gods in the universe she would find him okay. The coat lifted into the air and began to move. She followed it, closing the front door of their home with a wave of her hand, her eyes never leaving the coat.

It was a cold and snowy night. The moon was somewhere behind a blanket of white snow clouds. Luckily the brightness of the clouds made it easier to watch her step as she followed the coat at a run. Snow was falling heavily, the flakes big enough you could see their shapes without trying. There was already at least 2 inches on the ground and it was piling up quickly. The coat made a sharp turn into the woods, if she wasn’t terrified before, she certainly was now. How far had he gotten? And why hadn’t she woken up when he left? She new without a doubt he did not leave of his own volition. Whether sleep walking in a nightmare or dragged away by Stroybrooke’s newest villain of the week, she knew he was in trouble.

It took another 15 minutes of searching, though it felt like hours to Emma, she had forgotten her gloves and long since felt the numbness spreading through her fingers and legs. The coat hung to her knees and gave her a little bit of warmth, but with the cold settling in and her panic to find Killian rising, her magic wasn’t working well. Even if she did find him, she had no idea if she’d be able to transport them back to the house. The coat began to slow and she picked up her pace to walk next to her, her eyes searching for a figure standing out between the bright snow and the shadows of the trees in the night.

She nearly tripped over him. While the snow aided some in the light, it wasn’t enough for her to find him without help. She stopped and for a moment she thought her heart might have too. He was nearly covered in snow. Face down and crumbled as if he had been thrown, he lay in only his black sleep shirt and pajama pants she had insisted he buy a week ago. Was he breathing? Was he still alive? She couldn’t bare to lose him again, not after everything they’d gone through.

“Killian?” Her voice shook as she knelt down in the snow. “Killian, please wake up.”

Frantically now she began to brush the snow off his face. His black hair gleamed against the snow, his face was pale and his lips nearly blue. She needed to get him inside and get him warm now. How could she? She looked around at the empty woods, begging for a miracle. Her head snapped up again as she recognized a part of the woods. They were near a cabin, a cabin! She didn’t know if it had any electricity, or food or anything, but it was worth a shot. She took the coat from where it still hovered above Killian’s body, and laid it over him. She quieted her mind and focused on her emotions, knowing that was the only chance she had at getting enough magic to help them.

The thought of losing Killian seemed to work and the coat wrapped tighter around him, slipping beneath and nearly pulling him from the snow. With a quick kiss to his forehead, she stood up and grabbed the jacket, beginning to pull in the direction of the cabin. She could be wrong, it might not be there, but she wouldn’t let herself think on that long. This was her only chance. Glancing down at his face, she pulled at the coat faster. After nearly 10 minutes of dragging him through the thick snow, she saw the cabin. It was still a ways off, set in a small clearing. She could feel the first aches of relief, and exhaustion. Emma gritted her teeth and continued to drag her limp pirate towards safety.

It seemed that right at the threshold her magic gave out. The coat loosing it’s sparkly and flattening on the stairs. Emma opened the door and turned to pull Killian the rest of the way in. Once he was in and she could close the door, she looked around. It was a small, nearly barren cabin, the dark wood of the trees outside had been used to build it. The windows had long since been frosted over. In the corner was a larger fireplace, with wood stacked neatly by it. A small couch sat across from the fire, old and worn, fabric tearing along the seams. Emma walked over to the fireplace and begged the fire to start quickly. It only took a few minutes before the flames were high and heating the room.

Emma quickly dragged Killian to lay next to the fire, her exhaustion was beginning to deepen and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to stay awake. Once he was settled, she set about looking around the cabin for blankets. She found a small kitchen, barley room for the stove and pantry, but the pantry was stocked with canned food. Glancing out the small window to see the wind and snow picking up again, she was grateful they had food for however long they needed to stay here, bottled water was found underneath the sink, more relief. In a small bedroom just off the front room she found a pile of blankets. She grabbed all that she could carry and made her way back out. Kneeling next to him Emma began to undress him, knowing that if she didn’t get him out of the soaked clothes, her work might be for nothing. She chuckled to herself at what he might say if he was aware she was undressing him. She was sure she’d hear it when he woke up.

Undressed and bundled up in at least three blankets, Killian remained unconscious, she would have to hope he woke up soon. Glancing down at herself she realized she was still only in her t-shirt and sleep shorts, and she was freaking cold. She peeled off her useless coat and hat, the icy wetness seeming to burn her skin. Hanging them to dry on the couch with Killian’s clothes, she took the rest of the blankets, burrowed under the ones wrapping Killian, and laid them over the two of them. Body head was good right? She thought she’d read that somewhere, then had a brief flashback to when he pulled her out of the ice wall. He’d hung onto her so tight, lifting her off the ground and carrying her to the car. She remembered how good it felt to be in his arms, though she would never admit that out loud. He had barely left her side that night while she recovered. Emma looked up at him, brushing his hair back and kissed his jaw. He loved her, she loved him, it was time to put a stop to his fears and nightmares. She cuddled into him, and finally slipped into sleep.

~~~

Killian wakes up scalding hot, sweating and confused. He doesn’t open his eyes right away, still worried he’s back in that horrible nightmare, at least what he hopes was a nightmare. He takes stock of his body first, aches in his left shoulder and down his arm are the most prominent. It brought him temporarily back to the underworld portion of that dreamscape, his arms had been chained down roughly, he wouldn’t be surprised if it had yanked his shoulder out of place. That wasn’t a good sign for it being just a nightmare. Something was laying across his chest, it felt like an arm, and he realized that something was currently resting on his aching shoulder as well. He finally took a chance to open his eyes and pray he was home. He wasn’t.

Wood ceilings greeted him when he looks up, definitely not home, then where? He looked to the side and found himself next to a stone fireplace with a small fire burning, close to burning out it seemed. He looked to his other side and found Emma was curled on her side against him. A restless look on her face as she slept. Lines on her forehead creased slightly, her mouth turned down unhappily. He looked at her beautiful face, and was grateful that he was with her. Whether this was a dream or not, it was the best thing he’d been through in the past few hours. He had the urge to brush the blonde hair away from her forehead and caress her cheek. As he moved to do just that he realized two very important things. One, he was most assuredly not wearing a stitch of clothing underneath all those blankets. Two, Emma Swan’s very naked body was currently tangled with his.

The realization had him jolting slightly and beginning to look around for clothes, though he couldn’t turn his head much, nor peak over the mountain of blankets very well. He was debating on whether to move or not when Emma groaned and began to stretch. As she did so a leg came cross his body to adjust her position, her shoulders moved forward to dull the aches in her back. She mover her hand from where it was under her head onto his chest. Killian was pretty sure now he’d died and gone to heaven, there couldn’t be a better explanation for this brilliant, beautiful woman next to him.

“Killian?” Emma murmured groggily, her head tilting up to look at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“Aye love, I’m here.” He answered back. Faster than he had time to follows she was up and practically straddling him, leaning over him with the blankets over her shoulder and a worried look in her eyes. And she was most definitely not wearing clothes. Killian might like to flirt with her uncontrollably, but he was still a gentleman, his eyes stayed firmly fixed on her face. He wasn’t sure what caused the look of concern on her face but he wanted to wipe it off with a kiss and much more pleasurable activities. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” There was an edge to her tone now. Killian had a feeling that he was about to get a dressing down, well more so than he already was. “What’s wrong?! Killian you almost DIED.”

He blinked he hadn’t been expecting that. When had he almost died? If everything that he’d just been through had been a dream, then the last time he had died would have been before the underworld, and he didn’t think that’s what she meant. Perhaps she was talking about the murderous expression that would come over Regina’s face every time she saw him out and about, he was sure she’d nearly incinerated him multiple times. He realized she was ranting now and focused on her words.

“—I knew they were getting bad but this bad. What if I hadn’t found you? What if I hadn’t woken up. Oh hell, I can’t handle it Killian, I just can’t.” Her voice broke on the last word and tears filled her eyes. He was even more concerned now.

“You can’t handle what, love?” His hand finally came up and cupped her face, he knew he’d missed something during his musings but he would focus more now.

“You DYING.” The shout rang through the tiny space he had deduced they were in. “Weren’t you listening? Killian you almost died. I woke up in the middle of the night to find you gone, not in bed, not in the house! You were just gone. And your nightmares have been getting worse but this, this is bad. I had to do the tracking spell and I used your jacket, and I didn’t even grab pants, just a coat and hat. The jacket lead me to the woods where I found you freezing to death and nearly covered in snow. You’re lucky I remembered this cabin out here in the middle of nowhere or we both would have frozen to death.”

As the words sank in, Killian grew concerned; allowing his eyes to roam over her body, not in lust but in worry, making sure she wasn’t injured. She didn’t seem to be, he didn’t see any signs of frostbite or burns from the cold. He let himself feel a little relief before his eyes met hers again. She still had tears in them, she wouldn’t allow them to fall, his Emma wouldn’t show that kind of weakness when she was angry, even to him. It was best to tell her what happened and talk then to let her continue to stare at him as if she expected him to keel over that moment.

“I had a dream, it started out in Storybrooke and I was so sure it was real—” He told her all of it. Every moment of agony, every word spoken and heard. He knew she needed to hear it all, so she could understand. When he was finished, they simply stared at each other. As Emma processed it all he finally got a good look around the cabin, it was small with a worn sofa, a window showing a multitude of snow-covered branches.

“It can’t go on like this Killian, this is getting bad. I don’t think I could take loosing you again.” Emma said quietly, staring at him intently. He looked away.

“I’m well aware love, but I’m working through it and it’s like I’ve always told you, I’m a—” She cut him off.

“A survivor. Yeah, I know you say that.” She paused. “But you didn’t, you didn’t survive while we were the Dark Ones, you didn’t survive until Zeus himself brought you back. So how am I supposed to believe that now? Because it sure as hell looks like your body is trying to kill you.”

“Maybe it’s time we talk about everything then.” Killian responded. He adjusted himself slightly, still very aware that he and Emma were nude and in extremely close contact. “And this might be better done with some clothes on.”

“Normally you’re trying to get me out of them, you want me to get dressed?” Emma raise her eyebrows at him in a poor attempt to imitate him. She moved to get off of him, brushing against his chest as she did so. He suppressed a groan and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to control himself. He heard her walk to the couch then felt fabric on his face. She had thrown his clothes at him. Once they were both dressed in what little clothing they had, dry thanks to the fire. Emma added more wood to the fire and moved to the door. When she opened it, she wasn’t surprised to find at least three feet of snow at the threshold. They would be stuck here for a while. She could attempt to use her magic, but her emotions were still all over the place and she didn’t want them to risk sending them somewhere else.

“Looks like we’re stuck here a while.” She called to him. “My magic is a little on edge right now and there’s no way we could make the trek home on foot with all this snow.”

Emma shut the door and turned to find Killian on one end of the little couch. She moved to the other end and wrapped a blanket around herself, a way to keep herself warm and a protection from the oncoming talk.

“What do you want to talk about.” She asked. He let out a mirthless chuckle.

“What shouldn’t we talk about? I feel that we’ve never truly discussed anything, we haven’t had the time. Where should we start? You as the Dark One? Me as the Dark One? Me dying? You only being able to say you love me when we’re in danger? Neverland? The year I spent without you? Going back to Storybrooke and having to fight the witch? Getting my heart taken by Rump—” This could go on forever, she thought.

“Okay, so a lot to talk about. Where should we start?” He looked at her quietly.

“Have you ever regretted me loving you?” He asked and she was stunned. Of all the questions she thought he would have asked if she did love him, not if she regretting him loving her. To Killian it was an easy question though, and one he feared the question too. He had been infatuated with her from the beginning, intrigued by her strength and resilience, charmed by her wit and sarcasm. He didn’t suppose it was in the cards for him to fall for someone, but Emma moved all of that when she held the knife to his throat and told him he was lying.

He had wondered through the few years, whether she had wished he would simply disappear, as many others in the town certainly wished. This answer was perhaps the most important one, and the one he feared most, but he needed to know.

“Killian, I could never regret you loving me.” Her voice was soft, yet her eyes held a fierceness that demanded he listen. He was. “Next to Henry, you are the only one that never gave up on me, never stopped fighting for me. I didn’t think I’d ever find a love like you, someone who would always put me first, maybe too much for their own good. Someone who would make me feel safe and loved and not alone. You did that, you made me feel that. I will never regret you and I will never regret us.”

He swallowed back a lump in his throat, determined to get through this talk. There was a possibility that it would change everything, but maybe it was for the better.

“I wasn’t a good man, Emma. I haven’t been that naval lieutenant I told you about in a long time. I don’t even know if he’s still in me. I feel that every time I’ve tried to be that man, I’ve fallen short. I don’t believe I’ll ever be worthy of you, or your love, but I do love you. I know that you aren’t ready to say it back, but I know you have feelings for me. We wouldn’t be living together otherwise.” At that she smiled warmly at him. “I just want to feel like enough for you.”

“This is the same problem you had when you asked Gold for your hand back. You didn’t think you were enough for me with what you were so you tired to change yourself. I don’t want you to change, that might sound a little selfish, but I believe you’re already a good man and you are enough for me. Missing a hand doesn’t make you less of a person, and it doesn’t make you less to me. You are what I want, no one else. I love you, Killian” His eyes widened as he heard those words fall from her lips, he was speechless. The three words he had wished to hear from her when they weren’t about to be torn away from each other.

Once again, they got lost in each other’s eyes, saying everything they needed too. Emma knew he’d been struggling since his return from the underworld. While everyone was mourning Robin, Killian had been brought back. She wouldn’t be surprised if he felt out of place now. It seemed quite a few people had wished that Robin had been the one brought back and not him. Regina was obviously at the top of that list, but Emma was done feeling guilty for nothing. She had spent enough time running away from anything that resembled love for fear that it would slip through her fingers. It was time to stop being afraid.

So, they talked, they talked about everything they could. The hours passed quickly as they shared happy memories and sorrowful moments. They talked of their insecurities and their worries. Their fears that they had never been able to tell anyone before. It felt like for the first time they were as honest and upfront about everything, and found out just how alike they were. It was refreshing to have someone who understood them so well. And by the end of it, both knew this was it for them.

The hardest part for both was talking about their times at the Dark One, and then the Underworld. Neither were keen on facing the fact that they had hurt people and made the wrong decisions.

“We, especially I, messed up Swan.” Killian’s eyes were full of sorrow.

“But all we can do now is move forward and be better.” Emma paused and replayed her words. “My mother must be really getting to me if she’s got me spilling out those words.”

Killian laughed and snuggled closer to her, over the hours they talked they had gravitated closer together. They were tangled together not unlike they had been under the blankets. Emma smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. She didn’t know if this would stop his nightmares, she might have to convince him to go to Archie for that to fully stop, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be following her sleepwalking pirate out into a snow storm again anytime soon.

“I think I’m ready to go home.” She said to him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“It’s a nice cabin, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be bad if we stayed here for a bit longer,” She hesitated. “But the fires out and neither of us have eaten. We could make something for dinner and just relax. I’d like to make good memories in that house.” Killian grinned at her.

“I can think of quiet a few ways to do that, love.” She laughed, and kissed his cheek. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated. With a disgruntled ‘Oof” they landed on their bed. The house was warm and cozy, though the sheets were cool from nearly a day’s disuse. Emma grumbled about needing a heating blanket while she went to check her phone. Killian was certain Henry would help him find where to order one of those, anything to keep his Swan warm and happy.

“Oh shit.” She muttered as she stared at her phone. Killian was by her side in an instant.

“Something wrong in town?” He questioned.

“No, just my dad wondering why I haven’t answered any of his messages today. It’s my day off anyway! Why is he even.” She trailed off as she read the last of his messages, then sighed and dialed his number. David answered the phone on the first ring.”

“Emma? Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to call you all day. Are you—” Emma cut him off quickly.

“I’m fine dad, I’ve been with Killian all day. It’s my day off, and there is no need for you to come down and defend my honor.” Killian grinned, his hand moving up to play with her hair while his other arm brushed against her waist. “No, you cannot kill him! He just got back and you would lose your drinking buddy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” David protested, sounding slightly indignant.

“Why Dave, after all the time we spent at the Rabbit Hole together? Did I mean nothing to you?” Killian spoke, his smile widening as she egged her father on. Emma did her best to look unamused but her mouth twitching gave it away. Killian placed a kiss on her neck and she shivered, a new heat forming inside her.

“Killian if you touch my daughter.” David threatened. “I’ll come take off your other hand. I don’t care if there’s three feet of snow out here, I’ll do it.” Emma laughed.

“Dad it’s a little late for that.” There was a choking noise from the other line and Emma had to hold in another laugh. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy my day off. And tomorrow since it looks like we’re snowed in.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something to do to pass the time.” Killian added right before Emma hung up on a still speechless David.

“He’s going to kill you.” Emma laughed.

“He can try. He likes me to much, just won’t admit it yet.”

“Well, if he shows up on our doorstep in an hour demanding you duel him, you’re on your own.” Emma turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Darling, a whole hour? I believe that’s more than enough time to grant my final wish in this life.” He used the arm wrapped around her waist to haul her up into a deep passionate kiss. As they made their way to their bed, both couldn’t help but feel that everything was finally perfect.

#csss2020 #cocohook38 #cssecretsanta #klynn-stormz #the snow falls quickly

[everlastingdreams]

John Constantine x Reader : Heaven And Hell   Chapter 4

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Summary:  The reader has been travelling alone for a while now, running from her demons. When soon she finds herself dealing with real ones. At first she appears to be just a psychic, but as time passes John finds himself wondering if that is all she is. The rising darkness is coming closer everyday, what part does she come to play ?

Chapter summary:  After returning from the dreamworld you are left with guilt and more questions then answers. John suspects the necklace you are wearing might have something to do with it. He takes you to see an old friend of his. 

Notes: Hope you like the cameo in this one. Let me know what you think and feel free to reblog.

Chapter: 4/?

Word count: 3960 words

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You bolted up in the bed, both John and Chas were in the room with you. “Is this real ?” you asked Chas, still shakin. “Oh it's real alright.” he brushed the sweat off of his head. John was still sitting on the ground and it didn't look like he was back yet. You jumped out of bed and hurried to his side, you kneeled in front of him and shook him “John ! John ! Please wake up !” Chas looked worried until John's eyes shot open, and he gasped for air. Relief flooded over you and you threw your arms around him “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..” tears were starting to fall from your eyes and you held onto him as if he was your lifeline. It took him a second to regain his senses before he wrapped his arms around you as well and started to hush you. “It's alright, I got ya. We're safe now.” he rubbed your back as you sobbed. “He was right. Everywhere I go, death follows. I dragged you into that place.” you managed to get the words out in between sobs. John broke out of the hug and held onto your shoulders, scanning your face “What was that, luv ?” You shook your head, not daring to look at him “I saw something back there.. it looked human..” John remained silent, hoping you would tell him more “But it wasn't, was it ?” “No. I could sense it before it even spoke. It told me it was there to retrieve me.” you looked up at him and looked at Chas for a moment who was watching you both. “It said fire would rain upon the world, John..” you watched John's reaction, he didn't look suprised. “Not the first time I've heard that one, luv. Especially with the rising darkness it has been a popular thing.” he tried to lighten the mood. After taking a deep breath you spoke again “John... It's said I will be the one causing it.” John's reasurring smile fell as the words got through to him, he looked at Chas who looked shocked at the revelation. He was silent and you could tell he was trying to stay calm, to keep his cool, until he looked down and sighed deeply “Did it say anything else.” “Yes..it said 'we are legion'. Then I could hear them.. scratching the walls..following me.” you shivered when you recalled the moment it felt as if the creatures chased you . John swallowed hard hearing this “Demons lie, y/n. If they called themselves legion, it means it's a group of them.” You stood up abruptly “No.. he was telling the truth, I could feel it. Whatever's coming for me.. it's not going to stop.” You walked out of the room past Chas and when you pulled open the door you gasped when you saw the other side of the door. Deep scratches were visible in the wood, something had tried to get inside of the room. Chas cleared his throat awkwardly “Yeah, about that.. John..” John clearly didn't expect to see that either “y/n...” “You said nothing could get into this place...” you looked at him in shock. He stepped closer to you, choosing his words carefully “They didn't come through the Mill house...” It was enough information for you to understand what it meant “I caused this..?” One look at them was enough to confirm your belief. “I have to get away from here..” your voice broke and you quickly walked away from them. “Y/n ?!” John was quick on your heels “Wait, just-” You didn't stop and he took your arm to stop you in place, you pulled your arm from his grip “Let me go, John. I don't want your death on my conscience as well.” you almost shouted the words. He moved to stand in front of you when you tried to move past him. You took a step and he again blocked you, holding up his hands as if he was surrendering. “There's something you're not telling me isn't there ?” he had picked up on your choice of words. Tears started to fall down your cheeks again and you burried your face in your hands “They killed them.. those things.. those demons.. it killed them. I should have known.. I did this..” It was getting hard to breath between your sobs. John wanted to place a hand on your arm but you took a step away from him. “ My family.. I always knew it weren't just freak accidents.. I knew it wasn't really suicide..everytime my visions grew stronger, someone died..” you were shaking as you spoke “If those demons got here because of me..” “Stop !” John took one big step towards you and grabbed your shoulders forcing you to look at him. His voice was desperate, pleading “You didn't kill them ! Demons did !” You shook your head “Everyone I ever cared about has died ! I can't let them kill you too ! I can't take it anymore !” your voice broke and you body started to shake harder. John cupped your face as he pleaded “Y/n. It wasn't your fault ! You didn't know, hell, even I don't know how it's even possible. But listen, I've literally been to hell and back, I have send hundreds of those bastards back down. If they come.” he pauzed for a beat “When they come, I'll kick em back where they belong. Whatever's coming for you, it aint getting past me.” He sounded so convincing, and for a moment you felt safe again “What if I really am the cause of the end of the world as we know it ?” “I relly on instinct, and mine is telling me that you're alright.” he winked and smiled at you softly “What does yours say about me ?” “It's tells me that's you're telling me the truth.” you smiled weakly “And that you might be getting a bit fond of me.” you quipped. His smile grew wider “Good.” He brushed the tears from your eyes with his thumbs before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. His hands landed on your neck softly as he put his forehead against yours “I'll keep ya safe. I swear it.” You nodded “I believe you.” Suddenly John yelped out in pain and pulled his hands away from you. "Ah bollocks!" He shook his hands and started to blow air on his fingers for a second before looking at you confused "Don't you feel it ?" "Feel what ? What's wrong ?" You took his hands in yours and saw the thin red burn line in them. "Y/n...your necklace, it's burning bloody hot." He scanned your face for any sign of discomfort. You went to touch your necklace, but all you felt was some warmth radiating from it. John watched as you touched it without a problem before using one of his knuckles to feel the temperature of the necklace again. "It burned me skin.." he blinked a couple of times "It's almost cold now. Like the first time you showed it to me." His expression changed, like something clicked inside his mind. He snapped his fingers once "I knew it reminded me of something.." John walked past you and grabbed his coat before handing you your own. "We're going out ?" You put on your jacket. He nodded and smirked secretively "We are." He was acting strange and you realised he must have remembered something or realised something important "Is this about my necklace or are we going to go and help someone ?" John chuckled "We're going to see an old friend of mine. See what he has to say about that pendant you're wearing. I've got a feeling he'll know what it's about." Chas walked up to you “So.. she's staying ?” John looked at your face for a second and you gave a nod “She's staying. But we're going out, gonna visit an old friend about that necklace of her.” he shared a meaningfull look with Chas. “Guess I'll see if I can fix that door in the meantime.” Chas caught your attention “Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get into trouble.” A chuckle escaped you “I'll make sure he behaves.” “Oi !” John interupted “I never get in trouble, trouble finds me.” “Piss poor excuse.” Chas replied to that. John rolled his eyes and nodded for you to follow him. “So, who is this old friend of yours ? Is he an exorcist as well ?” you asked him as you got in the car. He let out a laugh as if it was an inside joke “Nothing of the sorts.” You frowned at him “But you think he'll know more about my necklace ?” He gave a short nod as he kept his eyes on the road “That pendant on it.. it reminds me of something he's always busy with. The engraving is different but it looks like it's his area of interest.” John's voice became serious “When we arrive I want you to hang back for a bit, let me do the talking. I don't want to spend more time around him then necessary. Alright ?” “Okay..” you were starting to think that when John spoke about his old friend there was something bitter about it.

The drive was long and when he finally parked the car you were suprised to see that your destination was a nightclub. John must have seen the look on your face as he held back a laugh when he got out of the car. “Seriously ??” you got out of the car "We'll find answers here... in a nightclub ?" You looked at him questioningly. A chuckle escaped him "Have a little faith, luv. Besides, look at it from a positive point of view. If we don't get answers here we can still get a drink and be on our merry way again." “Hmm.” you watched him with narrow eyes as you followed him inside. People were dancing everywhere and you were suprised that it was actually a pretty classy place. You followed him down a set of stairs as he walked to the bar. The bartender spotted John instantly. “What do you want ?” she asked him coldly, looking anything but pleased. “Bloody hell, thought i'd get a warmer welcome after what I did for ya.” John was offended at the cold reception. “I'm not the one that owes you something. So, what do you want ?” she was getting impatient. Her eyes scanning you for a moment and your eyes widened when she actually winked at you as she eyed you up and down. John pulled her attention back to him “I'm here to see him.” She nodded to you “What about her ?” “She's with me.” John sounded a bit defensive. A smirk appeared on her face “He'll be happy to see at least one of you in that case.” she tilted her head “He's over there, at the table in the corner.” “Thanks.” John said before scanning the place. He walked for a bit before slowing down “Remember, let me do the talking.” “Got it.” you started to walk a bit behind him.

"Well, I am damned." A sauve voice said and your focus snapped to the person now sitting at a table in front of John "Johnny! It's been a while." The man spoke politely but you could hear by the tone of his voice that there was a sharp edge to the words. "Long time no see. Wish it could have stayed that way." John responded just as bitter to the man. "Feel free to leave then." The man quipped coldly. "I'll be damned." You stated loudly so the man would hear. The man seemed suprised and leaned a little to the side to look past John at you. It dawned on you that he probably didn't even realise that John didn't come here alone. He looked at you in slight suprise before he smiled brightly at you "Hello there !" His eyes now focused on you and he leaned forward and you noticed John sending the guy a glare "What was that ?" You crossed your arms "It's 'I'll be damned' not 'I am damned'. " John cleared his throat and you knew you had said something wrong "Not in his case, luv." What did that mean ? You didn't get a chance to ask before the man spoke. "I'm afraid so, darling." The man sighed but the smile on his face remained the same. He leaned over the table as he held out his hand to you, ignoring how John moved to block you from his view "Lucifer Morningstar, and with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with ?"

You looked at the man, brows knitting together in confusion as you looked at John. Then you let out an awkward little laugh before seeing the serious look on John's face. Your eyes snapped back to the man at the table and his outstretched hand. You studied him for a second, hair black and styled perfectly, suit that looked like it was made for him and the smile...charming yet it hided something wicked. "Lucifer... like..." you stuttered the words. "The devil ? Beelzebub ? Satan ?" He seemed amused at your shock "Yes. The one and only." He motioned to himself before flashing another white toothed smile as if he was in a toothpaste commercial. John moved so Lucifer had to pull back his hand before pulling a chair back for himself and you. John plopped down on the chair right away as Lucifer leaned back in his, still watching you with interest. You hesitated. Were you really going to sit at a table with the devil himself ? "I don't bite, at least not hard. Please have a seat.” his voice was smooth like silk as he motioned to the chair John had placed for you.   "It's alright, y/n." John reasurred you and you took the seat next to him. Lucifer was quick to pick up on your name "Beautiful name, how very fitting." He stated. "You're not what I thought you would be... or would look like." You admitted to him. "No horns or tail. I hope you're not too disappointed" Lucifer motioned to his head.

You found yourself smiling at how nonchalant he was "With all the stories and movies these days and how they depict you.." you were staring at him a bit now "I often forget that you were described as the seal of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty." You recalled the words some people had used to describe the devil. Hearing this made him smile even brighter until John spoke up. "Like all the other angels." He said and cutted the conversation off. "Tell me, why are you here, Johnny boy ?" Lucifer was growing more annoyed at him and you figured there must have been some beef between them from the past. But then again, how well can an exorcist get along with the devil ? "Considering you're up here, I'm assuming you aren't too concerned about what's going on down below-" Lucifer's smile fell completely "Are you insinuating that I don't know how to do my job ?" he snapped at John. "We both know it's not the first time things have been able to slip past the gates of hell, and it sure as hell won't be the last time." John continued. You could hear the venom dripping in the words between them Lucifer focused on him now "Are you telling me something got out ?" John ignored the question and instead looked at you "Show him the necklace." "Mine ?" why was the necklace important enough that you had to show it to the freaking devil ?? John nodded in Lucifer's direction and you took off your necklace and put it on the table for Lucifer to see. You watched his reaction and tried to focus on John's as well to try and figure it out. Lucifer swallowed visibly, his eyes were glued on the necklace on the table. He reached his hand out to it and you noticed how he was carefull as to not touch the pendant on it. He dangled it in front of him "Where did you get this ?" He kept watching the pendant as he let it spin to view both sides, still not touching anything else but the chain. "It was given to me when I was a kid." you replied truthfully. "By whom if I may ask ?" his eyes now intense, locked on yours. John watched him like a hawk, also having noticed the change in tone. You looked at John before directing your attention back to Lucifer "Some guy gave it to me when I was a kid." "Care to elaborate a bit more on that ?" He seemed to tense up. John's eyes darted between you and him. "I.... it was just someone I met on the street once. I was walking home and he looked homeless so I gave him some money. He insisted that I accepted this pendant. I've kept it ever since." You explained. "Do you recognize it ? Or do you know what it means, what's it for ?" John asked impatient. Lucifer let out a nervous chuckle as he carefully lifted the necklace, his eyes scanning the engraved symbols "It's nothing harmfull, really. Just a pendant." He put it back on the table. John's eyes narrowed "Really now ? I'm supposed to believe that ?" He scoffed. You sat there in silence as you watched them interact. "If it helps, I can give you my word that this isn't something evil." Lucifer sounded offended but gave you another wide smile as he looked at you and spoke "My word is my bond." John scoffed again, looking anything but pleased. You thought for a moment as John spoke to Lucifer trying to pull out information regardless. "If it's not evil and just a pendant... then why does it react to me ?" You asked, breaking up their interaction. John looked at you and immediatly watched Lucifer's reaction. Lucifer's expression changed for only a second but you saw it. You raised a brow at him and tilted your head a little arrogantely. He let out a nervous chuckle "You're a sharp one." He took a sip from his glass. He was silent for a moment, as if debating on telling the truth. "It's only a pendant if you don't have it on you." He didn't look at you and spoke so quickly it was almost hard to understand. "What ?" You heard him but... what ? John mumbled and groaned something before pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "John ?" You now looked at him, he had to know something considering his reaction. "Dear old dad has a plan for you, darling. Don't put your faith in that pendant. It's not where it belongs.” Lucifer looked at you intensly before turning to John "It's not the necklace you should be worrying about, John." Lucifer's eyes landed on you "Worry about why they found it necessary for her to have it." “I've already figured that out.” John grimaced “Some of your pets are trying to get to her.” Lucifer's brows drew together and he must have noticed the fear in your eyes when he looked at you. He leaned towards you, grabbing your attention “As long as you have this little thing they can't really get to you. They can scare you, yes. But it is blocking them from getting what they want out of you. Consider it a small barier." You took the necklace and put it back on “But what exactly is it ? Is it cursed or something ?” “Quite the contrary actually. It is whatever you need it to be, it responds to you because you are it's owner.” he explained. “So it's safe ?” you looked down at the pendant. Lucifer gave a short nod and smiled “It's just that. A harmless pendant. Not a harbinger of evil or whatever it is that ol' Johnny here believes it to be.” “Then why the bloody hell did it burn me fingers when I touched it ?” John didn't sound like he believed him completely. “Did it harm her ?” he countered. John cleared his throat “No.” “Then it works perfectly fine.” Lucifer smiled at him smugly. “I think it is because I was upset, perhaps it reacted to that ?” you said to John who seemed to take that as the right answer. “See ? Relax, John. That tiny thing won't do her any harm.” the smugness was dripping off of his words before he turned to you, his voice turning into silk again “Don't be afraid, sweetheart. John often sees the worst in things-” “You would too if you would have to deal with the things I deal with daily. See what I saw.” John snapped at him. “As I was saying..” Lucifer rolled his eyes “Not everything is evil. Stick with Johnny he will teach you the ropes. And perhaps one day we shall meet again in better circumstances.” You nodded to him “Thank you for seeing us.” That brought a broad smile on his face “You're welcome ! I'll let Maze know that if you should return that drinks are on the house. “ “Maze ?” you furrowed your brows. “You just met her.” he tilted his head in the direction of the bar where the woman kept an eye on the table you were sitting at. “Oh ! Okay..uhm.. thank you.” you shot him a shy smile. John stood up and touched your arm to make you do the same "Eh look, thanks for the chat, mate. But we'd better be off. Got a lot of work these days." “Well then, then there's nothing left for me then to wish you good luck.” Lucifer stood as well and held out his hand again. John looked at him before shaking his head “With respect, it's never a good idea to touch evil. I tend to avoid it unless necessary.” Your mouth fell open a little at John's remark. You knew that he must have a reason but it was still pretty rude. You looked at him disapprovingly before moving quickly to shake Lucifer's hand. John moved as you expected him to do so but you were quicker. What suprised you the most is that you sensed no evil coming from Lucifer, no scary visions.. The only thing you felt was warmth. As if the sun was touching your skin on a beautiful day. It took you by suprise when Lucifer brought your knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss on them. As strange as the situation was you still felt the heat rise to your cheeks. John clenched his jaw at the sight. It was obvious he didn't like it at all. Perhaps he had expected that you would get a horrifying vision as well. He let go of your hand “Braver then him already.” Lucifer remarked. “No. I learned it from him.” you corrected him and saw John smirk at your words. Lucifer's eyes darted between you and John before chuckling. “Y/n..” John nodded towards the exit. You went to follow him out. “John.” Lucifer called out to him and John turned to look at him over his shoulder “Look after her. She was given that pendant for a reason.” John noticed the warning in his words and he gave a nod before walking away with you.

Reply to the post if you want me to add you to the taglist for this series. And feel free to let me know if you want to be removed from my taglist as well offcourse.

Taglist:

@bisexual-space-slut​​​  @venusofthehardsells​​ @ buckybarnesthedoritoslut @deansinkdbitch​

#John Constantine #john constantine x reader #john constantine!reader #reader x john constantine #john constantine x you #constantine x you #legends of tomorrow #lot #you x john constantine #lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Pressing Engagement ch3 (Not baon AU)

Summary: Edge has questions. Stretch would pretty much like to avoid the answer.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Fluff and Angst, Dating, Developing Relationship, Humor

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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Edge was still waiting patiently for Stretch to pick up the ball of conversation he’d tossed in his direction and since talking was way down on the list of what Stretch actually wanted to do, he let it fall to the ground between them, rolling around loose.

The bedroom was at least a room he knew, even if he wasn’t usually upright when he saw it. The contrast to his own shabby chic was always impressive; there were no balled-up socks on the floor, no collection of dishes waiting with dismal hope for their chance to hit the dishwasher. Not perfect, though, not tonight. The blankets were drawn down and there was a book lying on the bed, a mug sitting on the side table. All clear signs that Edge had probably been settled all cozy into bed, ready to dive into his secret stash of trashy dime novels when he clued into their silent alarm.

Now he was sitting on the bed all but aiming the ring box at Stretch’s head as he picked up the conversation he’d dropped. “I understand you not wanting me to see these, but I’m failing to see why you thought committing a possible felony was the best route to keep it from happening.”

“oh, come on,” Stretch let out a dismal laugh, “seriously? like you would’ve let me root through your car without seeing what it was?” He’d learned a long time ago not to take Edge’s distrust personally, especially since Red was usually higher than he was on Edge’s shit list.

Edge hummed thoughtfully, “True, but what was stopping you from showing me literally anything else? A lucky lighter or one of those atrocious little toys you always have. I would never have known the difference.”

“yeah, that’s actually a pretty good idea,” Stretch groaned, sagging back in his chair, “shame i didn’t get your input earlier.”

“Well,” Edge didn’t open the box again, only twisted it in his hands. “That doesn’t really matter. I have seen them. Stretch?”

That was a hint for him to get talking and, fuck, did he want a cigarette, a little numbing nicotine buffer would go down swell right about now. Stretch went ahead and fumbled out his lighter but left his smokes where they were. He knew better than to try smoking in Edge’s room, adding a sprinkle of annoyance on top of this meal probably wouldn’t end well. Or maybe he should go ahead, he had a feeling this wasn’t going to end his favor, anyway. He thumbed the rasp of his lighter, watched the little spark form. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“Perhaps some insight into what you were thinking would be a good place to start,” Edge leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “We don’t even live together and here you are planning proposals?”

Said like that, it didn’t sound like he was thinking at all, not past the simple fact that when he heard about Alphys and Undyne planning to get hitch, he sort of…wanted that, for himself, and everything that came with it. He’d spent all day thinking about it, letting different scenarios play out in his head where Edge would say yes and maybe kiss him in the park right in front of everyone and then they’d all break into applause because hell, if you’re gonna daydream, do it right.

He’d even talked about it with Blue, a little piggly wiggly before he went whole hog with the shopping, but now that his head was below the clouds, Stretch figured that his bro probably wasn’t an impartial audience. He’d gone starry eyed, literally, yammering about planning weddings and flowers, hell, they’d both gotten swept up in the idea and before he knew it, he had rings and something like a plan to propose. Probably should’ve felt it out sooner to make sure he had a groom before they’d started thinking about receptions. The way this was going, the only thing he was gonna be going home with was his bruises, fuck the rings. He was gonna toss them out the window on the drive.

“all right, i was stupid, is that what you want to hear?” Stretch hunched over, wrapped his arms around himself. His head ached and so did, well, all of him, his reward for spending the evening getting knocked into walls. Worse was the tightness inside his chest, his soul squeezing together disappointment and hurt. “just give me those and let me go home.”

The gentle touch on the back of his skull startled him. Edge’s hand slid down to cup his cheek bone, trying to urge him to look up. “Don’t say that, you aren’t stupid. Stretch, I care about you, you do know that.”

“yeah.” The word came out small and he couldn’t keep the miserable hurt out of it. Cared. Yeah, right.

A soft sigh, then, roughly, “Fine, I love you. I have said it before.”

He had, a couple of times during sex and the more this chat dragged on, the dumber his impulse to buy rings seemed. He’d been blinded by his own hopes and goaded by Blue’s eagerness, thinking he and Edge were on the same page when a quick glance up at Edge’s impatient frown seemed to confirm they weren’t even in the same section of the librarby.

“All right, this isn’t working," Edge announced as he abruptly stood, "all I’m doing is hurting you.” Stretch squawked as Edge scooped him up right out of the chair and for one absurd second, he panickily thought he was about to get tossed out the door.

Instead, Edge settled them both on the bed, leaning against the headboard with Stretch lying back between his spread legs.

Okay, yeah, that helped, a little. Edge was warm and solid behind him, pressing soft kisses to Stretch’s skull as his gloved hands soothed over him. He made a quiet sound of dismay when he found a bruise, probably leftover from Blue attempt at scrubbing him against the garage, and brushed a gentler kiss over it, his breath a soft gust as he said, “All right. Let’s talk about marriage, then.”

Stretch squirmed, but it wasn’t their position bringing the uncomfortable, "why? we already talked about marriage, you were very clear on your opinion.”

“I know what I said, I was there. Now I’d like to talk about Underfell marriage. If I may?”

Then, despite his little announcement, Edge didn’t say anything. His hands moved absently, following the lines of Stretch’s jaw, down the bumps of his vertebrae to toy with the strings on his hoodie. The silence drew out, but Stretch didn’t rush him; the sooner Edge spoke, the less time he’d have to be here in his arms.

“Marriage in Underfell isn’t like here,” Edge said at last. That flatness in his voice was familiar, a relic from his old world; he always sounded like that when he talked about Underfell, like he couldn’t bear to discuss it if he didn’t have his mental shields in place, and Stretch hated himself, a little, for forcing Edge to dredge them up. “Generally, it was only done by royal decree. Asgore would arrange marriages to encourage offspring for his army, without any care for the wishes of the Monsters involved. I know your experience is different, but when I consider marriage, it is not a loving bond, it’s little more than royally sanctioned slavery.”

“I’m not liking the sound of that,” Stretch admitted. A soft puff of amused breath gusted over his cervical vertebrae in a soundless chuckle, that flat coldness fading.

“Neither do I,” Edge agreed, “We were on the surface for some time before I understood the differences here, but even in this world, it seems to be a contrivance that’s easily cast aside in divorce and used mostly for health benefits and to assign a next of kin.” Gloved fingers slipped beneath Stretch’s chin, urging him to look up into Edge’s gaze. “That brings us back here, to our relationship. What we have is entirely by our own consent and our freedom to choose.”

“And that’s fine,” Stretch said, trying to keep the desperation at a minimum, “we can keep doing that.”

Edge shook his head. “I don’t think we can. Because that’s what I want. It’s not fair to you, if you want more.”

Stretch tried to swallow around the sudden lump of his soul rising into his throat, managed to mumble out, “please don’t dump me.”

Not that he’d blame Edge if he did, ill-considered proposals followed by breaking and entering were probably not anywhere on Edge’s list of fun weekday activities.

It was impressive the way Edge managed to fit so much exasperation into an expression that barely changed, “I’m not about to leave you for loving me. If you care to recall, I love you, too,” He leaned in to brush a soft kiss over Stretch’s mouth and that simple, gentle touch wrung most of the aching fears out of the Stretch’s soul, relief surging in to fill the new real estate. He didn’t linger, drawing back to say, “And there were loving bonds in Underfell, they simply weren’t ones of marriage.”

“okay. then what would a loving bond be like?” He had to assume that’s where Edge was leading this, and how the hell did he always managed to be straightforward in such a roundabout way.

Edge hesitated and Stretch wondered at his answer, but what he got was, “Will you wait here until I come back? Please?”

That meant moving so Edge could get up and as much as Stretch wanted to latch on and cling ‘till dawn or joint cramps, that was probably not the multiple choice answer he was looking for. So he went with the first option and reluctantly roll off to let Edge get up. As long as he was going solo on the bed, Stretch took the chance to kick off his shoes, hey, the deeper he got under the covers, the harder it was for Edge to toss him out. Edge didn’t protest when Stretch burrowed into the blankets, only paused at the door and called, “If either of you are out there when I open this door, I will make you regret it.”

There was a muffled thump, the sound of brothers frantically scrambling away.

Typical. “you still got it, babe.”

“That implies I could possibly lose it.” Edge walked on out, closing the door behind him for which Stretch would always be grateful. He couldn’t do much about their brothers’ intense need to meddle, but he didn’t really want their podcast switching to pay-per-view.

Edge wasn’t gone long and when he came back, Stretch couldn’t really figure out why he left in the first place. He didn’t pull Stretch back in for another round of spoons, either, instead sitting cross-legged on top of the blankets.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that each section of the Underground had its own societal quirks,” Edge said, softly. He shifted a little, then again, and Stretch realized abruptly that he was actually fidgeting, seriously, this was a night of strange happenings. “Snowdin was far enough away from New Home to come up with its own way of handling familial bonds. My brother and I assumed them not long after we moved there and I joined the guard.” His gaze moved over Stretch’s face searchingly, “You’re aware that Red wears my collar.”

“yeah, of course,” Stretch said. All of them learned real quick that dog jokes did not go over well with either of the Fell brothers.

Edge nodded. “I believe the trend may have started with the Dog family, but it took hold quickly. Collars are distinctly visible from some distance with little room for protesting about misunderstandings. Red’s collar distinguishes him as being my brother and under my protection in a way that no one can mistake. Children often wore collars that allowed others to easily identify their parents. And—”

He hesitated again, shifted again in that peculiar fidget, then moved his arm. From his sleeve slid a long, plain box and he didn’t hesitate, boldly handing it to Stretch without another word.

The white cardboard revealed nothing and when Stretch cautiously lifted the lid, all his prickling suspicions were confirmed.

A simple collar, plain leather with none of the spikes that poked out threateningly from Red’s.

Hesitantly, Stretch picked it up, draping it over his hand. The leather was buttery soft, a narrow glossy black backlined with a border of rich crimson. The burnished buckle was delicately tooled into the shape of a soul, what Humans always wanted to call a heart. Lovely and simple, subtle instead of blatant. There weren’t many people who’d get the implications here, but as of about ten minutes ago, Stretch was one of them.

“oh,” Stretch said quietly.

“I had it made a few weeks ago,” Edge said hurriedly. He reached over to run his thumb down the length of it, more deep red against black. “Although I will admit, I wasn’t expecting this conversation to come up so soon.” His chuckle was tinging on shrill, holy shit, he was nervous, after everything tonight, how could he be…? “It would be considered a betrothal collar. Not a marriage, but a promise to a certain level of commitment to each other. I’m aware that it isn’t what you were hoping for—”

The words broke off as Stretch flung himself at Edge, kissing him silent, and then not so silent, a groan muffled between their mouths as Stretch straddled him. It shifted to a sound of displeasure as Stretch drew back, but he knew where that road ended and there was something that needed to be done before they hit the delicious trail.

The box and collar had fallen beside them onto the blankets and Stretch picked it up, holding it out as he asked, “can you put it on me?”

Edge rose up on his elbows and took the collar, and the rough way he said, ‘of course,’ almost ended him right back on the bed.

Down, boy, Stretch told himself, tipping his head back to exposing the line of his cervical vertebra. The leather was cool against his bones as it circled them, the buckle cooler still and hardly took a moment for the collar to settle. Stretch looked back down, taking in the deep satisfaction in Edge’s crimson eye lights, swallowing hard at the way they moved over him, lingering on the collar.

Oh, he could feel it when he swallowed and Stretch did it again, just to feel that faint rise and fall.

“does it look okay?” Like he even needed to ask.

In answer, Edge made a hungry sound and lurched up to take his mouth again, abruptly rolling them both until he was on top, his weight was settled between Stretch’s spread femurs, heavy and perfect. He kissed his way lower, down the line of Stretch’s jaw to the collar and Stretch shuddered at the feel of his tongue testing the difference between delicate bone and leather.

A gloved hand starting to work its way beneath the dark hoodie, oh, fuck yes, maybe the game tonight ended on an unexpected score, but they were going into overtime and—

It would probably be pretty rude to shout ‘fuck off’ at the knock on the door. Especially when his brother’s voice followed it.

“Can I please go home now?” Blue asked plaintively. “because I could use a hand, there’s a great deal of, well, road under and around my car, and not in the good way!”

“think we can talk him into sleeping over with red?” Stretch whispered.

“I think that merely assisting in a felony shouldn’t involve cruel and unusual punishment,” Edge said dryly, then called, “Hold on a moment, we’ll be right there.”

With a grimace, he rolled to his feet and Stretch started to follow, wincing as he accidently knelt on something hard, what the hell…he dug through the covers to pull out whatever trap was hidden in Edge’s bed, but what he pulled out was the ring box.

Oh.

It still pinched a little to see it, surrounded by all those deflated daydreams, and Stretch started stuffing it into his pocket, trying to laugh it off, “i’ll give ‘em to blue to toss into my place, see what the return policy is in the morning.”

A light touch on his arm stopped him.

“Don’t,” Edge said quietly.

“but—", and he’d said it before, a wedding ring laying around the house was like having a loaded gun, and Stretch was fast figuring out that neither should go off prematurely.

“Hold on to them,” Edge paused, struggling for words, then asked, pleadingly, “Give me time?” And it was stupid for that to make Stretch soul swell with love and hope and every other damn soft emotion that could cram its way in, but eh, he’d always said he was idiot. Might as well hold the title for it.

Stretch cleared his throat and managed a hoarse, “babe, you can have all the time in the world.” And then it was his turn for kisses, kept them as soft and reassuring as the collar around his throat.

“Thank you,” Edge murmured against his mouth. Then he pulled away with a grudging sigh and headed for the door.

Stretch touched the collar at his throat lightly. A level of commitment, Edge said, and fuck it, may as well go for broke, “you think we could go out on a date this weekend?”

Edge paused with the doorknob in hand, frowning faintly, “We have a standing date every Saturday for movies and dinner.”

“yeah, but.” But that usually included their brothers, along with Sans and Papyrus, and look, Stretch was openminded, but a six-way split was out. “how about something that’s just you and me?”

“Of course,” Edge said, surprised and pleased. “What did you have in mind?”

‘Anything with you’ probably came off as slightly desperate, so Stretch improvised, “let me surprise you.”

Which was code for ‘I have no idea, give me a day to panic and figure things out’. Good thing Edge spoke his language, he only smiled faintly and agreed, “All right.”

A date, Stretch thought giddily, a real date, and maybe proposals were off the table for now, but not for never.

Blue and Red were sitting on the sofa when they came down and Stretch couldn’t see Edge’s face, but he could see Red’s and knew the second he caught sight of the collar. The shifting emotions pouring across his face could’ve been made into a short film for Sundance, but in the end Red only slouched further into the sofa, and if he looked smug, eh, Stretch was feeling charitable, he’d give him that one.

Blue was less happy and followed anxiously behind as Edge led the way out to his car. “What happened?” he hissed.

“i’ll tell you later,” Stretch whispered furiously out of the corner of his mouth and at Blue’s doubtful look, he sighed out, “promise.”

He didn’t miss the way Blue glanced at the collar, but he blessedly didn’t ask. An hour in Red’s company was a good way to make even the stoutest teetotaler beg for a drink and Stretch didn’t want to stand in the way of his brother’s well-deserved hangover. Between the three of them, they got Blue’s car clear of the rubble and off he went, tires squealing and leaving Edge and Stretch standing alone beneath the darkened streetlight.

He missed out on getting the post-engagement kisses of his dreams, but suddenly getting swept up into Edge’s arms on an empty street was a pretty close second.

“Now, where were we?” Edge murmured. He paused with his mouth a breath away from Stretch’s, “Wait. How did you get in the garage?”

“um,” Stretch hedged, because that was sort of one of those secrets he was hoping to take to his grave.

Rescue came from an unexpected source, in the form of a hoarse, cheery voice, “Still up tonight, boys?”

Edge turned, carrying Stretch with him, to see Mrs. Gerson making her slow way down the road. Huh, she’d made it a whole house down since they last saw her.

“Not for much longer,” Edge said, politely, “Good night, Mrs. Gerson.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, carrying Stretch back to the house and yeah, it wasn’t a happily ever after, not yet.

But it was on the right path.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus