#sigh. anyway. long story short Yes i have a discord | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuadotcom · 3 years

Text

Memories of You | KSJ

❧ Summary: Your memories with Seokjin are some of your favorite.

❧ Pairing: Seokjin x Female!Reader

❧ Genre/AU: Fluff, established relationship

❧ Rating: NC-17

❧ Warnings: Some profanity, a very brief sex scene that’s not super descriptive, brief mention of a stalker

❧ Words: 2.4k

❧ Note: Happy belated birthday Mars baby! @joheunsaram. I’ve been working on this slowly and it’s finally here for you! I was so torn on who in hyung line to have this be about, but I’ve seen you in Discord talking an awful lot about Seokjin lately so I went with him! Enjoy some painfully fluffy fluff! 💝 And thank you to the always wonderful @bangtanhome for being my beta so last minute! 💜

“Hey, so, I don't want to be rude or anything, but your skirt is tucked into your underwear.”

Seven years ago this was the first thing Seokjin ever said to you on your first day at your new office. You were nervous going into the day, having just transferred to this branch, moving across the world to manage a new group of people in a new country.

You were just leaving the bathroom and can remember the way your face heated up and how quickly you ran back into the bathroom, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you wished you could disappear. Not only had your day only started, but your new coworker that pointed out your embarrassment just so happened to be exceptionally handsome.

After splashing some water on your face and taking a few deep breaths, you exited the ladies’ room to see the man standing outside, hands in the pockets of his slacks. He lifted his gaze from the floor and met yours. There was something about the way your eyes locked that made your face flush all over again as your heartbeat sped up. You couldn't properly describe what you felt at that moment, but it was something.

“Um, hi,” he cleared his throat and offered his hand out to you. “I'm Seokjin.”

“Y/n,” you managed. His hand was warm and soft and you didn't want to let go.

“I'm sorry about what happened. I just… I didn't want you to walk around like that. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who saw it anyway, but I wanted to keep it that way.”

“T-thank you.” Your hands were still connected and neither of you made a move to let go. It wasn't until an older woman you knew to be the manager of another team cleared her throat, making you both separate. She pushed past you into the bathroom with a look of annoyance. You and Seokjin share a look before laughing.

“So we don't offend any more people, would it be okay if I walked you to your office? I’d be more than happy to give you a grand tour of the building this afternoon if you want.”

“That'd be great.” Seokjin smiled wide at your words and led the way. During the short walk, you learned he’s been with the company for three years and he promised to brief you on everyone and everything there is to know about being here. Once you arrive at your office door, you locked eyes again before he said goodbye and turned to go back to his desk. Your earlier nervousness and hesitancy melted away at the prospect of this new person in your life.

“As soon as you texted me your address, I knew exactly where you lived.”

Seven years ago that was the first thing Seokjin said to you on your first date. You remember the panicked look on his face after the words left his mouth.

“Wait, I didn't mean it like that! I promise that I haven't been stalking you! One of my best friends named Namjoon lives in the same apartment building as you. He's up on the third floor so I've been there a lot. Please don't hate me or hit me or leave me or do any combination of the three! I swear, we can go back right now and go to his apartment and ask him!” Seokjin looked genuinely terrified as he glanced between you and the road with wide eyes.

Honestly, you found the whole thing amusing.

“Seokjin, I believe you.”

“Y-you do?”

“Yes, it's not that serious. I was stalked back home for a little bit and as soon as I met the guy, I knew he was kind of off. I get no vibes like that from you.”

Seokjin let out a sigh of relief, but then his face frowned again as he gently asked about the stalker you mentioned. You were at a point where you could talk about it and went on to tell him about the man that had been in your college creative writing class. He was always interested in your writing and was always asking you questions about it. You were only classmates and never anything more, but you had gotten a bad feeling about him the first time you spoke to him.

Your early hunch was right of course when two months into the class you found out that he had been following you home for weeks. He would also follow you to work and even monitor your social media usage. You weren’t sure how long it would've gone on if he hadn't broken into your home one night and climbed into your window at the exact moment that your roommate walked into the room.

You felt yourself shiver as you retold the story. Seokjin's arm immediately came up and draped over your seat, hand grazing your shoulder. He pulled you closer to him and you instantly felt protected; like an invisible shield had formed around you because of him. It was surprising, but you didn't question it. You hugged your sweater closer to your body and stayed in his embrace as he drove.

“Happy birthday, Y/n. I'm going to kiss you now.”

Six years ago that was what Seokjin said to you right before you shared your first kiss. You’d been on two dates up until that one. You’d held hands and hugged of course, and the last time he dropped you off in front of your apartment door, he kissed your forehead. That night was not only date number three, but also your birthday.

Seokjin caressed your cheek before tilting your chin up. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips before he brought his mouth to yours. The kiss was sweet and you could smell his sweet cologne and feel how soft and plump his lips were. You quickly let your tongue dart out and rub against his lips. Seokjin was surprised but wasted no time in opening his mouth as your hands lightly grabbed his hair and he firmly held your hips. His mouth was warm and he tasted like sweet cream and strawberries from your birthday cake which sat forgotten on the floor next to you.

The sounds of the city that had been busy around you a few minutes ago quieted down and everything felt fuzzy. It was such a cliche, classic romance movie moment, but you were okay with that. You could criticize everything later; for at that moment, you were busy feeling something wonderful you had never felt before.

True love.

“I love you so much and I want you to feel good.”

Six years ago that was what Seokjin said to you during your first time making love. He said he loved you a year into the relationship so that wasn't new. This was the first time it made you feel this warm throughout every part of you. He was between your legs, peppering kisses down the inside of your thighs. He had already prepped you with his mouth and fingers, now you were just waiting for him.

“I love you so much. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" You nodded and opened your legs a little more.

Seokjin positioned himself at your entrance before he began slowly entering you. It stung just the slightest as you felt yourself being stretched more than ever, but it wasn't enough for you to want to stop. When he was sheathed inside of you as far as he could fit, he held onto your hips as you reached up to grip his biceps. He leaned down and kissed you as he began thrusting, starting slowly before moving quicker, causing you to make sounds that seemed much more obscene compared to the tender moment.

The whole thing was over rather quickly, much to your shared dismay. You were both simply too excited to finally feel each other, that neither of you lasted very long. After ever so gently pulling out of you, he laid next to you and brought you close to his chest. A few tears slipped from your eyes, but they stemmed from happiness and nothing else. You felt incredible and so loved and it was all because of Seokjin.

“I fucking hate the fact that you keep talking to him and that you don't even care about my feelings!”

Five years ago that was what Seokjin said to you during your first real fight. You’d been through a few small disagreements here and there since you moved into Seokjin's much more spacious apartment. It was always over what to make for dinner or what color to paint the extra room he had or about one of you working late at the office. You were still technically in your honeymoon phase until about a week prior. A handsome new employee just started and had befriended you which Seokjin hated.

“How can you say I don't care about your feelings?! Your feelings are one of the most important things to me!”

“Well, then why are you still talking to Jungkook?! He likes you and you don't believe me! The way you're being nice to him, it's leading him on and you're acting like you're too stupid to know! You're a smart girl Y/n, open your damn eyes!”

“It's not my fault you're so goddamn insecure! Not all of my friends want to get in my pants!” Neither of you spoke then, instead opting to just stare at each other.

Seokjin moved first, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack by the door. “I'm going to Namjoon’s tonight. I'll call you when I can think clearly and continue this discussion.” He left without another word, slamming the door behind him.

“Fine, asshole!” You yelled at the closed door. You lowered yourself onto the couch and before you could help it, you were letting out quiet sobs. You were frustrated, confused and so many other things. Every couple was bound to have a first big fight about something, but it still hurt. You couldn't do anything but wait until Seokjin came home.

“I love you, Mrs. Kim.”

Two years ago that was what Seokjin said to you on your wedding day. You ended up having two weddings, one in Korea and the other in your hometown. Your friends and family looked on with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes at the sight of you. The wedding was simple yet beautiful as you glowed in your dress.

“I love you too, Mr. Kim.” You say, leaning up to kiss him. At that moment, you felt like everything was right in the world.

“Just keep pushing, you can do it, baby."

A year ago that was what Seokjin said to you as you gave birth to your first child. He was right next to you, holding onto your hand and wiping your forehead with a cloth. You had an iron grip on his hand as you pushed as hard as you could. All it took was one more push and another blood-curdling scream from you before the baby was out and in the arms of a nurse.

"It's a baby girl." Both you and Seokjin watched the crying baby as she was cleaned off and brought over to you. The little girl had her father’s wide, brown eyes and your nose. She stopped crying and was simply staring up at her parents.

"Hello little one, I'm your mommy."

"And I'm your daddy."

The baby continued to stare before opening her mouth and letting out a scream that surprised you both.

"She has quite the set of lungs on her!" Seokjin struggled to say over the screaming child.

"She does! And she's all ours!" You smiled up at him, your heart filling with happiness and love for the small child in your arms. The joy you felt now with your little family was indescribable.

"The past seven years have been the best of my life and I'm so beyond lucky to have been able to spend them with you."

An hour ago that was what Seokjin said to you at your anniversary dinner. While you’ve only been married for two years, you always celebrate the first day you met; when Seokjin’s first caught sight of your purple striped panties.

Once your daughter is settled into her crib, the two of you go into your bedroom and lay in bed together, still clad in your formal clothes. Your head is against his chest and his arms are around you.

"Babe, I have a confession," Seokjin starts.

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to ask you out on that day, you know - the day we met. You were so flustered and cute, but I thought I’d scare you even more if I did, so I held back."

"I was flustered and cute huh? Sure it wasn’t just the free panty shot I gave you?”

Seokjin gives you a flat expression. "No, smart ass. You caught my attention as soon as you stepped into the room. Then I overheard you later in the day talking to someone at lunch about the plans you had for the year and how excited you were to meet everyone on the team. You sounded so confident in yourself and your leadership. After that, I had it all planned out in my head. I was going to eat lunch with you and drop a very suave pick-up line about how we should go out sometime."

You snort and glance up at him. "Lucky for you I embarrassed myself when I did. I've heard your pick-up lines and no matter how attractive I thought you were I don't think younger me would've been that entranced to fall for it." Your comment earns you a few tickles to the ribs, a laugh bubbling out as you flinch away from him.

"Yeah well, now you're stuck with me and my bad pick-up lines forever." He places a kiss on your forehead and drapes one of his long legs over yours.

The word 'forever' fills you with glee. You consider yourself lucky every day that you’re able to say you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with this man. Seokjin isn’t perfect and you’ve been through many things over the years as a couple, but at the end of the day, the joy and love that you feel when you’re with him means more to you than anything. Knowing you've found the person you want to and are going to spend the rest of your life with is the best feeling in the world.

#hyunglinenetwork #clubzerooclock #btsnoonanet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #bangtanarmynet #52hertz #btshoneyhive #btsgoldnet #thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #magicshopnet #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin fluff #jin fluff #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin

91 notes · View notes

sdvvillagers · 3 years

Text

Fic - Marnie and Gil

Received a writing prompt in a Discord server I’m in that assigned me two random SDV characters to build a story around. How screwed did I feel when I got Marnie and Gil? 😂I ended up remembering that awhile back I’d answered an ask for Marnie and Marlon which can be found HERE and it inspired me to write a follow-up. The first part isn’t really required reading, but I figured I’d include it in case anyone wanted to check out the first part as well. I hope you enjoy some very unexpected Marnie and Gil interaction! It was very challenging but very fun to think outside the box for this one!

It was a long walk across town square and up the mountain to the lake but time somehow flew by in Marnie’s excitement. The day before had been the spring Flower Dance and for the first time in over a decade, Marnie actually enjoyed herself. Hopes of enjoying the Flower Dance had been dashed very early on by Mayor Lewis and when it seemed as though another lonely, miserable Flower Dance would pass, she was rescued by the most unexpected savior; Marlon. Marlon showed her kindness and empathy while Lewis had only shown her callousness and disdain. Though Marnie had always wanted a partner to dance with at the Flower Dance, it was actually okay to spend an afternoon with Marlon in a secluded corner of the forest clearing.

Time spent talking and laughing with Marlon seemed to fly by and before she knew it, the event was over. Marnie was actually quite disappointed when the festival had ended, Marlon wasn’t someone she often saw day to day in town. In fact, she only ever saw him at town festivals. As Marlon was leaving the forest to return to his secluded home in the mountains, Marnie made a bold move and asked if she could see him again sometime. Though he was very caught off guard by her request, it brought a warm smile to his heavily scarred face and the eye that was visible had crinkles in the corner from his happiness. Marlon invited her to visit him in the mountains the very next day and Marnie was eager to see him once more after they had spent such a lovely afternoon together. She had been hurt too many times to allow herself to feel too hopeful, but even she couldn’t subdue the small glimmer of hope she felt deep down that Marlon could be someone in her life that would treat her right and appreciate her. It was sad that these were how low her standards had fallen over the years.

Marnie stopped outside of the cabin when she arrived, taking a moment to lean against a tree to catch her breath. It was a trek across town that took over an hour and Marnie certainly didn’t want to appear winded and short of breath when she entered. It was no wonder Marlon very rarely came into town, the walk up and down the mountain was difficult enough one time let alone multiple times a week. By the time Marnie finally caught her breath, she took an extra few seconds to flatten her hair and straighten her dress before knocking on the door to the cabin. From the other side of the door she heard a gruff response of “come in” that didn’t quite sound like Marlon, but the door was so thick that his voice was coming across distorted.

When Marnie stepped into the doorway of the small cabin, her eyes scanned the room. It hadn’t occurred to her until now that she’d never been inside of the mysterious Adventurer’s Guild in the mountains. It was never often she found herself in the mountains anyway and the few times she made the trek there, she only went as far as Robin’s cabin. Inside was a small, rustic room that matched well with the exterior of the building. Marnie’s eyes traveled to the counter at the back of the room with a lopsided frown. It was difficult to remember that Marlon was a business owner himself, his services weren’t exactly anything Marnie required. In fact, the more she thought about it, she couldn’t really think of anyone in town that would require Marlon’s services and she wondered how he was able to keep such a niche business running. Before she could think on it any longer, she heard a low rumble to her right of someone clearing their throat loudly for the purpose of catching her attention. They certainly had it.

“You just gonna stand in the doorway and let the bugs in?” a gruff voice called out to her right. Marnie jumped in surprise, she hadn’t seen the figure in the rocking chair until he spoke. “Close the damn door!”

“Oh, I-uh, I’m so sorry,” Marnie sputtered, rushing further into the room to close the door behind her.

The rocking chair to the right of the room stopped moving and the figure whose face had been hidden under the brim of his gambler hat tilted his head upward to reveal not much more of a face than was visible before. The majority of this man’s face was covered by a bushy grey beard. However, now his intense blue eyes, flanked by wrinkles and creases, were visible as he stared at Marnie. Marnie had known that Marlon lived with someone else in his secluded cabin, but there were many that thought this other person couldn’t possibly exist. He had never been seen anywhere in town in decades despite Marlon mentioning him every so often at town festivals. Marlon alone was barely seen in town but this other man almost seemed like a ghost story.

“You must be Marnie,” the man remarked. He made no effort to rise from his rocking chair, though he nodded in Marnie’s direction as a small show of welcome. At least Marnie hoped it was welcoming.

“Y-yes I am,” Marnie stammered, still very put off by this man’s intense gaze. “I apologize, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Gil,” the man spat in reply.

“Well it’s a, uh… it’s a pleasure to meet you, Gil,” Marnie replied kindly. She crossed the room to shake Gil’s hand but pulled back when she noticed him subtly recoil. Perhaps he wasn’t fond of strangers, especially considering he’d supposedly lived in the valley for decades but never made it a point to visit town. She glossed over her almost handshake by looking around the room in search of Marlon. “Is Marlon home right now?”

“In the mines,” Gil answered shortly. This short answer seemed a decent enough explanation for Gil, though it only raised further questions for Marnie. Marnie didn’t dare ask any, though. Gil seemed bothered enough already by her presence.

A silence passed between them as Marnie stood between the empty counter and Gil, unsure of where she should linger while she waited for Marlon. Though Marnie was incredibly uncomfortable by the silence, Gil didn’t seem to mind it at all. He sat back in his rocking chair and tilted his head down once more to cover his eyes, resuming the gentle back and forth rocking of his chair. With each motion, a high pitched creak came from the seat of the old wooden chair. Weathered strips were worn onto the hardwood floor beneath the rockers as though this were a very regular activity of his. To pass the time Marnie glanced along the walls of the small room, but there wasn’t much to see. A few weapons were displayed along the wall but for the most part, the room was very minimalistic. Marlon and Gil seemed to live a modest life in their home. After what felt like an eternity, Marnie finally couldn’t take the awkward tension in the room and had to break the silence.

“How long have you and Marlon been living together?” Marnie asked casually.

The rocking of Gil’s chair stopped and he tilted his head up once more to look at Marnie with his same harsh gaze. It really was difficult to tell if this was just his usual expression or if he was legitimately annoyed by the disruption. Gil was a difficult man to get a read on. His brow furrowed as his face screwed up in thought and he silently mulled the answer over for nearly 30 seconds before speaking to her.

“‘Bout 50 years,” Gil finally answered plainly. He answered as though there was nothing at all astonishing about five decades spent living with the same person.

“Oh!” Marnie called out in surprise. She knew that the two of them had lived in Pelican Town together for quite some time, but somehow hearing out loud just how long the two had lived together put it into greater perspective. It hadn’t occurred to Marnie until she really thought about it that maybe their relationship was more than anyone had ever considered before. “So… are you two…”

Though Gil was never social with anyone in town, he certainly wasn’t ignorant to social nuance and could tell right away what Marnie was attempting to ask. Marnie was surprised to hear a gruff bark of laughter from Gil and see him smile for the first time since she’d met him. It seemed he was incredibly amused by her question.

“I always wondered what everyone in town must think,” Gil mused.

“No, I wasn’t trying to- I didn’t mean to-” Marnie sputtered, but Gil barked in amusement once more.

“Frankly I don’t give a damn,” Gil went on plainly. “What we have has worked for this long, don’t really matter what we call it. I ain’t much for caring what other people think.”

“As well you shouldn’t,” Marnie answered casually, though on the inside she was starting to feel very confused.

Gil hadn’t exactly answered her question but at this point, she wasn’t about to ask for clarification. Already she was thinking back to the day she and Marlon had spent together the day before trying to make sense of it all. Silence passed as Marnie tried to interpret every conversation they’d had, every compliment he gave, every good feeling she’d felt. This time it was Gil who broke the silence, clearly noticing the distress that Marnie was feeling.

“Marlon’s quite fond of you, Miss Marnie,” Gil finally spoke up. “Thinks you’re a real nice friend.”

The word ‘friend’ put all of Marnie’s thoughts into harsh perspective and she could feel her small glimmer of hope extinguish. Without meaning to, Marnie audibly sighed and hunched her shoulders forward, her head hanging low in disappointment. She was unlucky in love yet again.

“S’matter, you all filled up on friends?” Gil asked bluntly. Marnie immediately straightened her shoulders and lifted her head high. She felt rude for reacting the way she did.

“N-no, that’s not it, I-” Marnie answered, but Gil clearly hadn’t finished speaking yet and barreled on without even acknowledging Marnie’s answer. It was certainly clear that he was out of practice socially speaking.

“Personally, I ain’t got a need for friends,” Gil went on, a subtle look of disgust on his face at the word ‘friends’. “Not Marlon, though. Marlon’s always wanted to be a little more social than I am. ‘Specially now in his old age. Talks about you a lot, Miss Marnie. He thinks highly of you.”

“I think highly of him,” Marnie answered honestly. At the very least it was flattering to hear the kind words that Gil spoke to her. She couldn’t exactly imagine him being the type to make something up just to cheer her up so she had to assume his words were genuine.

“You probably didn’t come here today hopin’ for a friend but I can promise you won’t find a greater friend out there than Marlon,” Gil said sincerely. “But if that’s not what you’re interested in, well, you know where the door is.”

Gil was blunt and most certainly hadn’t developed the social grace necessary to sugar coat anything, but in this instance Marnie appreciated his honesty. He was correct, she hadn’t shown up today looking for a friend, but it was nice to know from the very start that this was all she was going to get. It was better than whatever she had going on with Lewis which she still couldn’t make sense of even after all this time. Marnie couldn’t blame Marlon for giving her an incorrect impression, if anything the blame fell on her for being too eager. But having a kind man like Marlon in her life, even as just a friend, sounded wonderful.

“I think I’d like to stay,” Marnie answered with a nod.

“He should be back any minute now,” Gil remarked, leaning back against his chair to resume rocking. “‘Til then, try not to make too much noise. You’re already interrupting quality time with my best friend.” Gil patted the arm of his rocking chair and laughed to himself at his little joke before tilting his head low once more to resume dozing off.

Marnie smiled at Gil as he rocked back and forth in his chair, already tuning her very presence out. He was such an odd man yet she found him to be incredibly fascinating. It was made very clear that he would never be in a position to want or need anyone in his life beyond Marlon, but the thought that she would likely see much more of him as her friendship with Marlon blossomed made her oddly excited. Today was proving to be a day full of pleasant surprises.

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv marnie #sdv gil #marnie #gil #my fic #sdv villagers

24 notes · View notes

law-of-excluded-middle · 3 years

Text

we have to stop meeting like this - part four (of four)

I wrote (part of) a fic for the Witcher Bog (@thewitcherbog) Discord server's July fic train event! I'm really grateful to the Bog for this opportunity to ease gently into writing fanfic, since this is really new for me :')

I was the caboose of the fic train, so if you've been following along, I hope you enjoy how it ends! And thanks for reading!

–

Ship: Lambden

Rating: T

Summary: Lambert, an angry apartment-dweller, deals with an uninvited guest. Repeatedly.

Written for @thewitcherbog train event with @all-hail-the-witcher, @king-finnigan and @jaskierswolf

Words: 5k (part four: 1.5k)

Part one, two, three, four (this one!) - AO3

Aiden, apparently, did a little bit of everything.

“Mostly gig stuff. Food delivery, grocery shopping, odd jobs... I build people’s flatpack furniture for them,” he rattled off. “Cat-sitting,” he added when Bastard, who had just come back inside through the open window, slinked over to him and bumped her head against his shoulder.

Aiden looked at the cat with such tender adoration in his eyes that it made Lambert feel almost uncomfortably warm, and he had to look away as Aiden continued. “I do some regular work for the community garden downtown, and I’m part of a pottery co-op.”

“Pottery? What, d’ya, like, sell shit on Etsy?” Lambert said between slurps of noodles.

A wry smile played on Aiden’s lips. “No,” he answered. “But I usually put in some hours at the winter craft market, peddling mugs and decorative plates, that sort of thing.” He paused. “As far as seasonal work goes, I imagine it’s a better deal than selling Christmas trees in the Home Depot parking lot,” he said, his smile growing into a teasing grin.

“Whoa,” Lambert said, starting. He felt his pulse race. “How do – how do you know where I work? Have you seriously been stalking me?” For the first time, he felt genuinely apprehensive in the presence of his mysterious guest.

But Aiden just laughed. “You’re joking, right?” Lambert scowled, which made Aiden laugh some more. “Your apron is hanging on the rack by the door. Your bright orange apron.”

Lambert whipped his head toward the door, then jerked it back around, and Aiden let out another peal of laughter. Lambert’s face was so hot he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He clenched his teeth, puffing up to defend himself, or at least to say something cutting and uncharitable, draw the focus away from his own cartoonish overreaction.

But one look at Aiden, leaning back on his hands where they were planted on the floor behind him, his head tossed back, shoulders shaking, and Lambert’s chagrin vanished like smoke before he had a chance to get properly worked up. “Oh, blame me for being suspicious of the guy who keeps breaking into my place,” he grumbled.

Still grinning, Aiden cocked his head. “Haven’t we already been over this? I don’t break in, I have a copy of your key.” His eyes sparkled deviously. “You’ll never guess where I had it made.” He glanced pointedly toward the coat rack once again before meeting Lambert’s gaze, his mouth quirked playfully.

“What, at my Home Depot?” Lambert demanded incredulously. Aiden answered with a toothy smile. “Unbelievable,” Lambert huffed. “How did you – when did you even get your hands on my key to copy it? – No, never mind, I don’t even care. What I’m more interested to know is how the hell this all started.”

Aiden’s eyes widened innocently. “How what all started?” But then he broke into a grin – that mischievous grin that Lambert was too quickly getting used to, and growing fond of – and sighed, apparently settling in for a story. “Let’s see, the first time I was here, that was a few weeks ago, right?”

“Weeks? Weeks?” This was news to Lambert. He had only become aware of Aiden’s drop-ins in the last ten days or so.

“Ah, right, right – you know, I think it was actually three weeks ago to the day! Imagine that,” Aiden continued, smiling beatifically, as if Lambert hadn’t even spoken. “Well... this story does not paint me in the most flattering light, actually…”

“Imagine that,” Lambert echoed dryly. “The story of the first time you broke into my apartment – and that was a break-in, I don’t even want to hear you try to deny it – and you’re telling me you don’t come out looking like the hero?”

“I’m not sure I see what you’re getting at,” Aiden said primly, not looking at Lambert. “Well, the short of it is, I’d gotten into a bit of a disagreement with some gentlemen that evening, and that turned into more of a scrap, which quickly gave way to a brawl. And I decided that the most civilized thing for me to do was to bow out gracefully.”

“So, you ran away,” Lambert said, for clarification.

“Like a bat out of hell,” Aiden confirmed with a smirk that was somehow both arrogant and self-deprecating. Lambert felt warm again. “Look, it wasn’t my finest hour. These guys were big, and I’m pretty agile, but I know when I’m outmatched.”

Aiden paused to hum thoughtfully. “Now, you on the other hand…” he continued. “If it had been you in my place, I imagine you could have taken them.” He smiled a tiny, devious little smile and curled forward, reaching out to wrap a hand around Lambert’s biceps. It flexed in his grip and his smile grew wide. “Yes, I’m quite sure,” he purred.

Lambert felt very warm. “Yeah, I’m. Uh. I, I guess I’m pretty good in a scrap. I, you know, I.” He flexed his arm again. “Move a lotta wood.”

“I bet you do,” Aiden murmured, leaning even further into Lambert’s space and looking up at him through his dense, dark eyelashes.

“Lumber,” Lambert hastened to clarify. “At. Fucking – At Home Depot. You know. Dimensional lumber, and pressure-treated pine, and like six kinds of plywood. OSB. MDF. You name it.” He grimaced.

Aiden was openly delighted at how flustered Lambert was getting, but he seemed to take pity on him. With a parting squeeze, he let go of Lambert’s arm and resumed eating his noodles, the picture of innocence.

“Let’s see – right, so I made my strategic exit and found myself hiding up your fire escape. Saw this little one get in through a half-open window” – he scratched behind the cat’s ears and she rubbed her face against his hand shamelessly – “and I figured I could use a place to lie low for an hour or two, so.” Aiden shrugged. He set his takeout container aside on the coffee table and scooped Bastard into his lap.

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you kept coming back,” Lambert pointed out.

And there was that condescending smirk again. “Well, this part of the story isn’t so flattering for you,” he said.

Lambert scowled, which probably wasn’t very flattering for him, either.

Aiden sighed, still smiling. “I got such a strong impression of loneliness, just from being in your apartment for a few hours. And I thought you could use a friend. Who doesn’t want to make a new friend?” He looked so sweet and earnest for a moment that Lambert lost his train of thought.

But it came back. “Are you telling me you made a copy of my key so you could keep hanging around my apartment, because you pitied me?” he asked, baffled.

Aiden pouted just a little. “I wouldn’t say pitied, no. But come on, the tower of identical takeout containers” – he gestured pointedly to the one out of which Lambert was still eating – “seemed a bit sad. You needed some novelty in your life!”

Lambert stared at him. Objectively, this was batshit behavior.

And yet, he couldn’t find himself feeling anything but want. It had been so long since Lambert could remember wanting, or wanting anything new, anyway. He didn’t want to fight it.

“You’re definitely novel, I’ll give you that,” Lambert said at last. “So, what now? Because I gotta be honest with you,” he paused, “we really have to stop meeting like this.”

Aiden broke into a toothy grin. “Now? I think I ought to head home,” he said, rolling his shoulders back and stretching languidly. “And tomorrow, I think you should take me out for breakfast.”

“I have work in the morning,” Lambert protested.

“No you don’t,” Aiden replied without missing a beat.

“Damn, it really is a little creepy how well you know my schedule.”

Aiden laughed wickedly as he stood up, and Lambert followed. “I don’t have a car, will you drive? I can meet you here at ten, how’s that?”

“You don’t have a –? Never mind. Yeah, ten’s fine.” He had to wonder how the guy managed to work all these delivery gigs without a car, but they didn’t need to get into it right now; he had a feeling that it would take him some time to figure out how the hell Aiden operated, and he thought, with a fluttery sort of hope, that he would have that time.

Lambert walked Aiden to the door, and Aiden looked up at him coyly.

“I’ll have you know, Lambert, that I’m not one to kiss on the first date,” he said with affected sternness.

Lambert choked a little, startled, his face heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh, well, that’s fine, I won’t be uhh, expecting anything just for buying you breakfast,” he stammered.

Aiden just narrowed his eyes and smirked. “That’s what tonight was for: now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I might be expecting something after you buy me breakfast.” He raised his eyebrows slyly and then slipped out the door, leaving Lambert feeling entirely too warm.

If this all worked out, he thought, they were going to have to come up with a better story about how they met.

#the witcher #witcher fanfic #lambert #aiden #lambden #lamden #laiden #lambert x aiden #lambert/aiden #my writing #personal

14 notes · View notes

47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

Text

In Your Likeness | Chapter 1 - Common grounds

Chapter 1 | Common grounds

Chapter warnings: Violence, blood, political conflict

For all tags, see AO3 : GoingHaywire

For more information, join my Hitman related Discord server

“Welcome to Jerusalem, 47.” Diana Burnwood’s voice stated through Agent 47’s earpiece. He stood as usually taciturn and obedient, analysing his surroundings. On the expanse of his head laid a kippah, donned as a distraction, out of place compared to the crisp black suit barely matching it.

But then, men of Jewish descent had no set appearance, so no one would question him too much. Not when he was in the holiest city of them all.

“Before you, you see the building of The Knesset, which holds the unicameral legislative branch of the Israeli government. Naturally, a restless country like this one has a fair bit of security around its political buildings. Despite its youth, this land holds secrets, one of them going by the name of Ewald Cohen. A powerful Jewish man, currently seeking aid for a wicked plan dabbling into force-migration. Long story short, he pleas for a Palestinian removal act. Our client wants him out of business, as to be expected. And so, it shall be done. Good luck, 47. And remember, I know it’s unlike you, but no unnecessary blood, especially not in there. It would mean a lockdown of the city, and the last thing we need is ourselves blowing our own cover.”

Agent 47 let his icy eyes take in every inch of the building before him – yellow brick, like a large box placed in the middle of a city, yet it had something of a temple – something ancient, like Jerusalem itself. He was not one for pretty architecture, though found interest in knowing how to get in – and out.

The way he looked now, he knew there would be no way that he could get past security without being frisked – if he took the main entrance, that was. Metal-detecting gates would be too troublesome at the moment. And without the correct papers, he wouldn’t get past the front desk, not with all those guards around.

The first thing one would notice was the plenty presence of soldiers, standing on watch. Judging by the stance of one of the younger men, 47 deduced that the change might soon be there. He should take advantage of it, knock one of them out and don a disguise. In the crowd, he’d be hardly noticed.

Deciding it the best approach, he made his way to a more secluded area, successfully knocking out a guard after distracting him, and put on his uniform. He discarded of his suit and the kippah by stuffing them into the stranger’s backpack, hiding the unconscious body of the soldier in the shrubbery. 47 brought the backpack with him, going forth.

In the distance, doors opened. Right in time, he thought to himself, creeping back to the place where the guard had stood. A new row of guards went up to the ones standing at the gates, freshly uniformed and without dark circles under their eyes, like the ones that the men at the gate had been sporting.

A wordless exchange, 47 mimicked his temporary peers with a gesture to the side of the head, saluting them. One of them raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the piercing blue eyes meeting his.

But then, the IDF stood never still in the stream of new guards, with drafted soldiers in their late teenage years obligated to serve a short time. There would be new recruits every time of day, so there lingered no long suspicion.

He followed them inside, proceeding through the halls until they stopped at what seemed like a canteen. It had never been so easy to march into such an important building with an automatic weapon in hand.

“I hadn’t noticed you taking over Adam’s shift.”

Agent 47 had already taken off the boots he had been wearing - a size too small - when he noticed that he was being spoken to. Before him stood a young man, no older than twenty-five, a toothpick between his chapped lips.

“Oh, yes. Adam felt ill so I was sent to take his place.”

“I don’t recognise you.”

“I haven’t been here for long.”

“You don’t seem to be drafted, either. What’s a man of your age doing in the lowest rank?”

47 sighed, feigning exhaustion. “Listen, yadid. I’ve been standing all day and I’m tired.”

The young man let out a scoff. “I’m not your friend, old man. Well then, guess your age is getting the better of you. Have fun returning home with your walking stick.”

“Shlomo!” a man of higher status called, sending him a warning glare. “Stop picking on our new recruits.”

With a shake of his head, the young soldier named Shlomo, so it seemed, stalked off.

Agent 47 was soon done dressing himself, hiding his pistol in the safety of his suit. He arose and set to the exit, pushing way through the business of the canteen, ignoring cheers to stay a bit longer, and was soon standing in the main hall.

A trained hitman like him had no trouble in making his way to the conference room. Diana stated through his earpiece that it would be plausible that the target would be roaming around there, for she had figured out that his so called bill of Palestinian removal was moving up in the list of cases to be discussed.

47 moved stealthily through the halls, successfully knocking out every burden in his way. He remembered what Diana had said – no unnecessary damage, just Mr Cohen. This city was desired and dangerous, and he knew. Any other important politicians meeting their end would mean disaster. Not that 47 ever caused collateral damage, anyway, unless utterly necessary.

A waft of the smell of blood pricked in his nose when he turned the corner, immediately pressing himself against the wall to eventually stay out of someone’s line of sight. Silence, but the scent was there, and he was certain that it didn’t come from his own doing.

“Tread carefully, 47.” he heard through his earpiece, his handler noticing as well that something was off. The smell, the eerie silence, almost as unnatural as 47’s own movements, stiff and overly calculated.

Something was not right. The air was denser than usual, for where he was usually the threat, he experienced uneasiness, like he was in danger as well.

It was a feeling unfamiliar to him – what was causing him such a notion?

Then, noise from the room where he was creeping next to.

He proceeded on through the hall, momentarily focussing on what was going on in the adjacent room. Noise, albeit stifled. A whimper, though muffled, so it seemed. Footsteps… He pressed himself against the wall a bit tighter, trying to listen in on what was going on in the main room.

A soft rustle of fabric whilst someone slipped through the heavy doors at the end of the hallway, closing them as quietly as they could.

Clad in dark, supple cotton and leather, hooded, a pine-green sash hanging over one of their shoulders. The insignia on the fabric was immediately recognisable. From under the hood, a pair of piercing eyes shimmered as they moved to look behind them, alarmed by his proximity.

Agent 47 moved instantly, alerted by their presence. This had never happened before, despite the feud he had sometimes heard about. Now that he encountered one of them for himself, things ought to get clearer. He didn’t hesitate to draw his gun, silencer tightly screwed onto the front.

The stranger had noticed him, too. A small, silver handgun laid in a gloved hand, barrel pointed right at him.

“Well, well…” the figure stated, female, judging by the sound and pitch. “How interesting. A hitman and an Assassin walk into a foreign parliament building. Says one to the other—”

“Who are you?” 47 interrupted, making the Assassin chuckle.

“No, you’re ruining my joke. Says one to the other—”

Agent 47 clicked the safety off of his gun. “I asked you something.”

She stepped closer, the sound of her thigh-high boots muffled against the carpet. “Let me counter that question, sir .” Her voice was thick with disdain. “You work for the ICA, do you not? Actually, don’t answer that question, I know you do.”

She halted in front of him, their guns still aimed at each other. She sniffed nonchalantly. “Do you see this insignia, sir?” She pointed at the buckle on her belt, then the one on the gauntlet around her arm. Its blade was stained with fresh blood.

“The Brotherhood of Assassins.” 47 said.

“Correct. Listen, sir. I know what you’re here for, but I suggest that you walk straight out of that door. I arrived here first. Deed’s already done.”

Agent 47 held his stoic expression, unfazed by the gun aiming at him. It wasn’t like his opponent was scared, either.

“Who is your contract?” he asked her.

“Does it matter? Whoever you’re after, they’re dead. Get out, before I stain the carpet unnecessarily. Would be a shame if your pretty eyes were to be closed forever, too. Poor Mr Rosenthal didn’t know what was coming to him. He had nice eyes as well. They’re dull, now.”

47 pressed the barrel of his silencer against her forehead. With a gentle nudge, he forced the hood off her head. It revealed the female Assassin to be younger than him, (h/c) hair conveniently pulled back into a braid.

“Shoot me, then. It would be unwise, though. The world lacks good Assassins.”

It was almost sickening, the way this woman lacked fear of death despite being so intimately involved with it. She spread her arms, dropping her gun to the ground. “Go on.” she pressed.

Agent 47 narrowed his eyes. Why wouldn’t he? Her (h/c) hair framed her taunting face, a wicked smirk spreading over her lips. “You’re hesitating…” She pressed her forehead a bit firmer against the gun. “Why… Are you… Hesitating…?” Her voice had become a whisper.

Agent 47 tilted his head slightly, taking her in completely, trying to calculate her next move. The odds were all against her, so why was she so cocky? Her (e/c) eyes shimmered in the dim light of the spots mounted on the wall, playful almost, careless.

“I thought your Brotherhood trained more capable Assassins.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m the best one they have, mind you.”

“Hence the way you act.”

She let out a chuckle and pursed her lips slightly. “Oh, alright… I know when I can take risks. Really, mister. I suggest you turn around and walk out that door, because I am not afraid of you.”

Slowly, he lowered the barrel of his gun. Gaze fixated upon her still, he took a step back. He towered well above her, yet she knew no fear of death. Quite the contrary, she laughed it in its face.

Agent 47 sighed, gesturing at the door leading away from him. “Get out now and I’ll let you live.”

The Assassin remained nailed to the ground, hands folded on her back now, staring at him unfazed.

“It’s officially against the rules to kill people who aren’t involved with the target.” he dryly stated,

“Let me guess. The unofficial version is a lot bloodier?”

“No one will question my disposal of one of a rival organisation’s puppets.”

“Says the man working for the ICA. If there’s a puppet here, it’s you.”

For a split second, it threw him off-guard, something that had never happened before – but now it did, and before he could bash the back of his gun against her temple to knock her out, he was blinded by thick, grey smoke. He coughed, disoriented, staggering backwards as a light laugh echoed through the halls, just as taunting as her gaze had been.

“Too late…” she sang, “Sorry, should’ve pulled the trigger. By the way, you aren’t the only one with rules like those. The reason why I let you live. Don’t forget to close the door after you leave, sir. It would be disastrous for the electricity bill.” The sound of her boots was faintly audible, and when the smoke died down, 47 remained on his own, opting to not go after her.

He straightened his tie, sighed deeply, and proceeded to push on through his mission.

“What can you tell me about her?” he quizzed Diana when he was about to push open the doors.

“She comes from the Brotherhood of Assassins. I believe she’s from the (L/n) bloodline. The ICA has encountered them more than once. Truly dangerous, those ones. I suggest you keep an eye out, 47. You never know who lingers in the shadows.”

He wrapped his gloved hand against the handle of the door, holding his gun close as he pushed it open.

“Didn’t she mention a contract named Rosenthal? Who was that target?”

“Yes, she must’ve mistakenly thought that your contract was on his head, as well. No, Ser Isaac Rosenthal is – or was, in better terms now - a Templar mole infiltrating the Israeli government. Turns out, they have found out his true identity. As you know, the Templars are the sworn enemies of the Brotherhood of Assassins. Focus on the matter at hand, 47. You should hurry now, before people come looking at what’s going on.”

The stench of blood became even more pungent when 47 pushed on through the heavy doors, being met with several dead bodies, adorned with red slits on their throats. Carefully, he stepped over the corpses, identifying them one by one.

“None of them is Cohen.”

“That means that she hasn’t stolen our kill. That precludes further feud along this path. So, I suggest you make haste. This is taking way longer than it should and people will catch up.”

The agent walked out of the room again, seeing no other exit than the one where he entered. He went to the large hallway again, trying to blend in as well as he could. Where he had left his soldier’s disguise to be in the hallway right in the army’s canteen, he now chose the façade of a rich businessman.

Scanning the crowd, he tried to find Ewald Cohen. It wouldn’t be too difficult, for the man’s bulky build could hardly be missed. Somewhere in the back of the building, he could hear people panicking, presumably caused by the finding of five dead men.

“Find him, 47, and be quick.” Diana spurred on before the line quieted again.

It took a few minutes to find Cohen’s office, where said man was dictating a letter to his secretary. The young woman penned along rapidly, frightened to lose her job if she didn’t.

“…However, where the amendment of freedom lay, I must counter that we are a state of sovereignty and thus allowed to proceed with removing… Hey, what was that?”

The clink of the coin 47 had tossed onto the tiles pulled him out of his speech. “Go look.” he ordered his secretary, sighing as she stalked off to check out the noise. Cohen sat in his chair, folding his hands on his large stomach. His chair creaked dangerously and the man seemed out of breath from just walking.

With an aim like no other, 47 pointed his gun at the hook of the painting that hung on the wall above Cohen’s desk. He took his shot – the hook broke and the large canvas fell onto the bookcase below with a dry thud.

Ewald looked behind him, eyes widening at the sight of the canvas toppling over, crashing down on top of him. The chair creaked under the unfamiliar pressure, finally giving out. Cohen fell from his seat, landed on his butt and thus, cracked his spine. The weight of the painting suffocated him, killing him in mere seconds.

The secretary returned richer a penny – the sound that left her throat proved imminent doom. Silently, the Agent who just successfully killed his target slipped out of the room, away from possible suspicion.

“Ewald Cohen is eliminated. Good work 47. Now, proceed to leave the building, and make sure that you aren’t caught.”

47 frowned, unsure of why Diana would add such a thing after her sentence. She never told him to watch out after an elimination, trusting him to be discreet as always.

He slinked up a few flights of stairs, trying to act natural whenever he passed by some people. His strangely stiff composure would give him away one day.

The door to the rooftop wasn’t too hard to find, marked with a unevenly blinking exit-sign right above. He went through it, hearing it click in its lock behind him. Upon stretching his shoulders to prepare himself for his climb down, a voice behind him spoke;

“Why didn’t you do it?”

Agent 47 had his hand on his gun right away, aiming it at the source of the disturbance. There she stood again, unfazed by the threat of death, (h/c) locks blowing in the wind. The light of the lowering sun cast a curious hue over the odd scene.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Why didn’t you shoot me?” she clarified.

“I am aiming my gun at you right now.”

“That’s beside the point. You didn’t do it before, and that’s interesting.”

47 took off the safety. “I should have.”

The woman smiled, her eyes shimmering with amusement. “Oh, please. There’s no suspense. No build-up leading to an all-concluding finale. No stand-off, no time-pressure.”

Diana’s voice interrupted the Assassin’s monologue. “What is taking you so long? A car is waiting for you.”

“I’ve ran into a bit of trouble. I’ll be right there.”

The woman scoffed, smirking. “A bit of trouble, you say? Is that all I am to you? I am offended… Thoroughly.”

“The rival Assassin…” Diana deduced, “Let her be. We don’t need another war right now for the world’s sake.”

He lowered his gun at Ms. Burnwood’s command.

“What is your name?” Assassin (L/n) asked him.

“Names are for friends.”

She stepped closer, once again halting at an arm's-length away from him.

“In that case, my name is (Y/n) (L/n).”

She held out her hand, waiting for 47 to shake it.

He eyed it, and then took it, unsure of what to respond.

“So, what’s your name?” she repeated.

“I don’t see why that is any of your business.”

Diana grew impatient. “Will you hurry?” she rarely lost her composure like that – perhaps it was the sudden appearance of the Brotherhood of Assassins.

Agent 47 just kept standing like he did, releasing her hand, frozen in place.

“Whatever your name is, I have a message for you.”

(Y/n) leaned closer, decreasing the volume of her voice to a whisper. “You’re in my country now. This is my city, these are my streets, and whatever Templar activity you’re involved in, I will shut down personally. The ICA claims neutrality, but I know better. You shouldn’t mess with the Brotherhood of Assassins, agent.”

She deeply inhaled, looking him in the eye. “If I see you once more, I will kill you.”

(Y/n) stepped back slowly, and then a bit quicker. “Hope we’ll never run into each other again.”

She ran to the end of the building, flinging herself off the side, gloved fingers soon gripping the edge, disappearing out of sight.

He clenched the gloved hand she had shaken into a fist, whispering a reply. “Likewise, Miss (L/n). That fate will do all to prevent that from happening.”

He was unsure of why he said that, for it could be taken two ways – that fate would prevent them from meeting again, or that it would prevent her statement from coming true.

Whatever it was and whatever caused the foreign twist in his stomach, he knew that he had to move again soon before Diana would call again and cause a scene at his unusual tardiness.

Spinning on his heel, he walked to the edge, onward.

#Hitman #agent 47 x reader #Agent 47 #Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover #assassin's creed #Long fic #slow burn #In Your Likeness #IYL

35 notes · View notes

somuchbetterthanthat · 4 years

Text

Probably too long for tumblr, un-betaed, written in one rush, utterly and completely self-indulgent. Have a little bit of touch-adverse/kiss-adverse Martin (with a good deal of denial and internalize prejudice to boot, so warning) for Aspec Martin Week.

It’s been a week, and they haven’t kissed.

It makes sense, Martin insists to tell himself, eager to find excuses for that one little discordant note in his otherwise perfect fairytale. What they shared in the Lonely had been -- much more powerful than that, for starters. And afterwards, there’d been the rush of getting somewhere safe, first to Martin’s flat, then to Scotland. They’d gone from stuttering at each other, exhausted and soft, blatantly trying to get over months of separation, to falling back in each other’s orbit with an easiness that made Martin light-headed when he thought about it too long.

So they hadn’t kissed. It just hadn’t -- came up yet. They’d gone so fast, so suddenly, it was nice to have that little thrill of anticipation. They were building towards something. They were building something, right now. There was no rush, was there?

After all, they’d hold hands, a few times. In the train to Scotland, fingers loosely intertwined, when Martin was still shivering from a coldness that had nothing to do with the rain pouring outside, and everything with the pervasive attraction of the sea that was still trying to drown out the beating of his own heart. They’d hold hands and it was warm and good and -- and well, sweaty, sometimes, when they kept at it for too long, but Martin had daydreamed of holding Jon’s hand for so long he could never make himself let go (and if there was an odd drop of relief wherever Jon let go first, at last, well, that was -- that was --)

Jon was affectionate, the way Martin had seen cats be when he fell into YouTube spirals, before. He hovered in Martin’s physical space, nuzzle his shoulder when he was sleepy, put his legs on Martin’s lap when they sat on the couch, and downright beamed and melted into his arms the first time Martin, filled with abrupt courage and stubbornness had decided to hug him, and every single time after that (this chased away the sound of the sea; if he kept Jon’s close enough, all he could hear was Jon’s voice and Jon’s heart and Jon’s breathing --)

(And if it get too much, sometimes, if he had to bite his tongue not to flinch when Jon’s hand brushed over his arms, his neck, his back, suddenly and without any apparent pattern, well, that was --)

They slept in the same bed, for heaven’s sake. They hadn’t even talked about it. The first night, tiredness had won over any potential flustering. Afterwards, it’d been easy, like everything else between them. Martin adored the intimacy of it in a way that was hard to describe properly. He loved it most in the morning, when the sun came in and he woke up before Jon, liked going to prepare breakfast knowing that he could come back whenever he wanted, and Jon would be there still, comfortable and vulnerable and in their bed, probably curled on Martin’s side, nose pressed against Martin’s pillow. He loved it most when they spent the evening there, still dressed, Jon’s reading, Martin scribbling in the small notebook Jon had bought for him at the London train station, cheeks flushed and eyes hopeful.

(They slept in the same bed, and Jon’s pajamas were too short, and his legs hairy, and his feet cold, and when he fell asleep he had a tendency to roll over and lean his legs against Martin’s, and Martin closed his hands into fists and breathed, breathed, and tried not to feel like he was trapped between suffocating in the bed, or disappearing into the fog to escape it all together. It was intimate. It was intimacy. It was what normal couples did, sharing a bed, and why couldn’t he enjoy it, he who’d dreamed of this his whole life? Intimacy. A relationship. Someone to love and to hold and fall asleep with, he who had been craving gentle, casual, loving touches his whole life, why couldn’t he ----)

So they hadn’t kissed; it didn’t matter, because Martin knew they would anyway. It was just that, out of everything, he had dreamed of kissing the most his whole life. When he was very young, the person hadn’t even had a face; he’d thought this would happen very officially, at his wedding. As a teenager, it’d slowly dawned on him he had no desire to kiss girls. Harder, he’d thought, but that would happen, he knew it could, Mr Anders had a boyfriend, everybody knew he had. Martin had imagined his first kiss with Louis who was two years older and played Rugby. Then it’d been with Tom, and Samir, and -- and then, there hadn’t been school anymore, but that was fine; he’d imagined his first kiss to be with an half stranger in a café, or in this bar where they hosted poetry nights.

It’d never happened, of course, but that was fine. That was fine. Who needed a relationship, anyway? Lots of people were single, and didn’t kiss people all the time, and if Martin sometimes felt icy envy when Tim used to speak of how easily he seduced people, well, that was easily pushed back down. (Martin had thought, once or twice, that he could ask Tim. Warm, friendly, easy-going Tim, who would never judge him for being inexperienced. He could have, but Martin didn’t want to kiss Tim. There was no pull, no attraction, no matter how charming Tim’s smile was. He wasn’t in love --)

And then there was Jon. The first time he’d daydreamed about kissing Jon, he was sleeping in his cot, and it smelled like his awful-but-not-quite-boss and safety-safety-safe-. Afterwards, there’d been million of other occasions. God, how much he’d craved, this past months, to go down the Archives, the hell with Peter, and to cup Jon’s face and to -- (and then he hadn’t wanted to anymore, and that was fine, too, it was easier, to stare at Jon and care in a pragmatic way instead of like a pathetic, lovesick fool. One of us should, he’d thought in his worst moment, and he loathed the man he’d been for those weeks so much -- there was a quiet dread in him that liked to murmur back to him Daisy’s words, that the entities didn’t force anything on them, just exacerbated what was already inside them, and every time, inevitably, he felt so cold again--)

So they hadn’t kissed. It was fine. They were going to. They were building to it. They just needed the perfect moment. First kisses weren’t just about the right person. They were about the right place, at the right time. Martin had wanted this for so long --

Tonight, Jon’s scowling at their puzzle like it personally insulted him, has been for the past ten minutes, and the light of the fire is reflecting in his eyes; he’s wearing Martin’s jumper and his hair is still wet from his earlier shower and Martin’s heart jumps at his throat as he thinks now. It has to be now.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he blurts out, filled with a sudden urgency. “Please? If -- If that’s -- if you want to.”

Jon looks up, startled, and it’s magic, the way his scowl disappears under his sudden flush and shy, happy smile. “Ah, yes,” he says, like he’s surprised. “Yes, I want -- I thought you might not --”

“No,” Martin says, “No I really really do --” “Well, then.” Jon’s lips curled into something that’s full of mischief, and Martin didn’t know it was possible to adore someone just as much as he adores Jon. “Come here, Mr Blackwood.”

“Oh I’ve got to work for it, have I?” Martin retorts, but he’s grinning, and already moving to Jon. They push the puzzle away, and Martin’s whole body is thrumming with nervous energy, abruptly, as Jon looks up to him, eyes dark and beautiful and soft. “I haven’t -- I haven’t actually ever done this,” he says, and is surprised to find he’s not embarrassed to say.

“There’s really not much to it,” Jon tells him, but he cups Martin’s face, tender as ever, and Martin thinks -- non sense, what is there more intense and intimate in the world than this? What else embodies love as much as kissing? -- and then Jon’s lips gently brush against his

-- and it’s good; for a few seconds, Martin feels electrified and so happy he could float; and then Jon’s lips are pressing back a little more insistently, and they’re a bit dry, and chapped, and his breath is hot against Martin’s face, and Martin’s knees are not wobbly, and the electricity has passed and all there is left is two bodies, pressed awkwardly against each other, skin and flesh and that odd, wet noise, and he wants to run, he wants to run so badly, this is ---

Jon moves away. Blinks worriedly, smile gone. “Martin?”

“No,” Martin says, his voice too tight, his hands trembling. “No, come back it’s -- sorry, i’m going to -- I’m just, i’m new to this? It’s got to -- It’s just -- I need --”

“Martin, breathe,” Jon snaps (he’s not angry, Martin has learnt to recognize the different ways Jon snaps over the years. He’s worried, and anxious, and probably thinking he’s done something wrong, the beautiful idiot --)

Martin breathes.

“Let me try again,” he stammers, after a minute.

“...Are you sure?” Jon tentatively asks. He’s so far away, careful not to lean too close while clearly yearning for it, and Martin forbids himself to start crying.

“Please,” he says instead.

“Okay,” Jon says. This time, he is so much more hesitant, so Martin is the one who crosses the distance between them, heart racing desperately in his chest. He tries to think of every movie, every story he’s ever watched or read or listen to; he puts one hand on Jon’s shoulder, and one hand on Jon’s hair, and Jon sighs, and their lips met and this time it’s right except, except it’s --

it’s all wrong, everything is wrong, and all that Martin manages to be aware of is how awkward and weird it all is; just like the hand-holding, when they do it too long, just like those little unexpected touches Jon offer at random moments, just like Jon’s legs in bed, and his damn cold feet;

Martin doesn’t remember breaking off the kiss; suddenly he is sobbing angrily -- at the lonely, at himself, at his childhood self who’s probably dreamed of this so much he’s ruined the reality of it all for themselves as an adult, -- and hides his face in Jon’s shoulder, apologizing like an idiot; he doesn’t even know what he babblers on. Stupid stuff, properly, because he’s an idiot, because he’s doing this horribly wrong, all of this, because he’s not feeling anything of what he should feel right now, because there is something ugly in him that refuses to be tamed even by love, and so what now? What now?

(Jon holds him. Jon murmurs it’s okay, it’s okay, we don’t have to, it’s okay, I love you, breathe for me, Martin, it’s okay, you’re okay -- and how is it, that Martin can love him so much and yet not be able to --)

“I want to,” he manages to say. “I’ve wanted to. All my life I just --”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, as if he is in any way responsible for this disaster. “Kisses are very much overstated, if you want my opinion.”

“But it’s not,” Martin argues, clinging to him harder. “It’s how you, you show love --”

“Is it? I never thought so. I like kissing just fine, I suppose, but It does get boring, especially if you do it for too long. Assuming we’re speaking of mouth kissing, of course.”

“How can you -- How can you say that?” Martin sputters, tearing himself away from Jon’s arms to stare at him. Jon is frowning, but he also looks so calm, it’s baffling.

“Easily,” Jon said, shrugging, a bit defensively. “Look, Martin, I told you four days ago I didn’t have sex. Ever. And you said it was fine, that you didn’t mind.”

“Well, yes, but --”

“How is that in any way different than kissing?”

“It’s, it’s -- I don’t know but --” Martin can feel himself tearing up again. Jon’s eyes soften, and he gently squeezes Martin’s hand.

“If you want to try again, at some point, we can,” he tells him, and it’s so impossibly gentle. “But it’s alright if it’s not -- something you enjoy. If we don’t kiss, ever, I won’t love you any less for it.”

“Maybe I just -- I just need to practice,” Martin says, quieter now.

“Maybe,” Jon admits. “But if it makes you this distressed every time, I might be the one who has to say no, here.”

Martin wants to argue some more, but something in Jon’s expression, stubborn and worried still, stopped him from doing so. “I love you,” he says instead, because that part is true, that part he trust; if he cannot control his body, at least he has mastered his heart;

Jon smiles. “I love you,” he says back, and he brings Martin’s hand to his mouth and kisses it gently.

Martin’s heart stops; his cheeks warm up abruptly; a shiver runs down his spine. He feels his breath hitch up his throat.

“Do that again?” he tries, voice trembling.

Jon raises his eyebrows. “This?” his lips linger on Martin’s knuckles, this time. Martin’s knees feel weak. Jon’s smile gets wider; warmer. “Oh, I can do this,” he nods, seriously. “Tell me if it’s get boring.” and he kisses Martin’s hand again; each finger, with a tenderness that makes Martin feel dizzy.

“I love you,” he repeats, because he thinks, he’s starting to understand what Jon was saying. “I love you so much.”

Jon kisses his wrist; his lips are a bit chapped and it’s slightly wet and Martin’s pulse is loud in his ears.

This. this is perfect.

There is no but; there is no quiet, shameful parentheses; Martin thinks he might have to talk to Jon about the bed, maybe, tomorrow; for now, his eyes fall back on Jon’s hand. He wonders what it’ll be like, to kiss it. He’s got a feeling it might be very pleasant, indeed.

#the magnus archives #aspecmartinweek #tw: internalized prejudice #i /guess/ it can vaguely fit the prompt #exploration #?#or together #but mmh #tma stories #sorry there is an actual story i'm working on properly that ought to arrive hopefully next week or so

419 notes · View notes

kakashi-tsukuyomi · 3 years

Text

Venus

A/N: I made this as a gift for @sparkleswritings for a Secret Santa event in a Discord server I’m part of, @konoblog-simps . I had so much fun writing this! I took into account some things she likes/dislikes and incorporated them in this one-shot story. This was also the first time I wrote for Gaara. It was pretty challenging but definitely fun.

Pairing: Gaara x My friend; Modern-day AU Warnings: None. Just pure fluff ahead

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dusk fell, and the glow of the lights coming from the coffee shops lining on each side illuminated the street on a Saturday evening. Sidewalks were filled with people enjoying the weekend calm, grateful for the respite it brought after a week of toil as they catched up with friends and loved ones over a cup or two of coffee. It certainly was the case for Kira and her friends earlier that afternoon. Exams had just finished the day before, and what better way to celebrate their freedom than to spend the next day hanging out in their favorite café, discussing their favorite stories over cups of hot tea. They enjoyed each other's company so much that they did not realize that their afternoon rendezvous stretched towards the evening. After saying their goodbyes to each other and a few well wishes for the coming holidays, they left the café and parted ways.

Kira walked down the sidewalk, taking in the sights around her as she listened to Sleeping at Last playing on her phone. The sky was now getting blacker than a few minutes ago, and the lights shone brighter and prettier in the dark. She had always loved evenings better than any part of the day, and this evening of solitude surrounded by the beautiful sight of nightlife, with the evening breeze caressing her face, was no exception for her. She had decided she wanted to stay and enjoy a little bit of it more, and so instead of going straight home, she continued walking and wandered around the shops nearby.

After a while, she stopped by her favorite bookstore along the way. As she entered the shop, the song "Venus" started playing on her phone, and she pressed her earphones closer to her ears to listen to it. She hummed to the song as she wandered towards the "New Selections" aisle, browsing the shelves for promising titles. When none caught her interest, she gave up and wandered towards the other parts of the shop. The bookstore had two levels, and after having visited all of the aisles on the ground floor, she rode the escalator, bringing her to the second floor. She got off the escalator and walked towards the shelves in front of her. She reached the Hobbies Section, casually browsing the books on display, and when she reached the Gardening Section, something interesting caught her eye.

It was a figure of a young man of about her age, standing a few yards before her in front of a shelf full of different books on succulents. He had short, spiky auburn hair, and he had a fair complexion. His frame was slender, his height not too tall, and he was wearing a maroon long-sleeved shirt on top of jeans and sneakers, which fit his frame perfectly. From where she was standing, she could only see half of the features of the young man. Although even with this limited view, she could tell that the guy looked cute.

The young man was holding a book in each hand, glancing from one book to the other. His forehead creased as he stared intently on one book as if to scrutinize it before switching to the other, and then back again. He let out a small exasperated sigh as if in defeat, and when he looked up from the two books, he noticed Kira's presence and turned to look at her. Kira felt her breath hitched and she panicked internally, quickly averting her gaze and turning to leave.

"Wait!" The young man called out. "I, uhh… ummm…"

Kira silently debated whether she should turn around and face him or just ignore him. She just wasn't used to situations like this. Normally shy, she wasn't the type of person to strike up a conversation with a stranger out of the blue.

"Excuse me, but, umm…" The young man hesitated as if choosing his words carefully. "I, uhh… wonder if you could give me some help, please?"

He seemed to be as embarrassed as Kira was at that time as he looked down, avoiding her gaze as he asked her. She felt a little bit sorry for the guy and was almost tempted to give in, but her shyness still held her firmly in her place. After a few seconds of awkward silence, the boy backpedaled and apologized to her. "F-forgive me, " he stuttered, "I shouldn't have bothered you."

Pity and guilt took hold of Kira as she watched the young man retreat from her, still clutching the two books in both hands. A silent resolve took place in her heart, and she thought that maybe if she could be bold today, it wouldn't hurt to try. After all, the boy did seem helpless.

"S-sure, I can help you. What is it?"

The young man's eyes suddenly perked up, and he turned to her, bringing the two books to her. "Ahh, thank you. I'm looking for a good book on taking care of succulents. I just started growing succulents, and I don't know which of these books is better." He stopped in front of her, holding out both of his hands to show her the books, and as she removed her earphones from her ears, she leaned forward for a closer look. Up close, she could properly see the boy's face. He had green eyes, and the edges of his lids were outlined with black ink. She noted he had no eyebrows, and had an unusual tattoo marked on the left side of his forehead. Though these features seemed strange compared to the usual standards of male beauty, they worked quite well on him, and Kira thought he was actually quite attractive.

Upon inspecting the titles, she immediately recognized them, and with ease and a bit of excitement, explained to the boy what each book was about. She pointed to the book on his left hand, "This one has useful information on planting succulents -- plus I like the visuals -- although, I think it lacks the explanation and tips a first-time succulent enthusiast should know." She pointed to the other one, "As for this one, I like this better because it has more information, plus I like how simple yet organized that information is laid out. It's very easy for a beginner to understand. I recommend this one."

The young man's eyes lit up once more, and he looked at her with a quiet awe. "Wow, I'm amazed how easily you picked one over the other. I assume you've already read both books and that you're into succulents, as well. You seem to be really knowledgeable on it."

Kira raised both of her hands in front of her, smiling sheepishly, "Ahh! No, not really… it's just that I had a lot of them growing up. Although, I don't really have them anymore…" The young man smiled at her, and Kira noticed how kind and gentle his face looked. She felt her heart skip a beat.

"But because of your knowledge, you certainly were able help me. I can't thank you enough, Miss… umm…" He scratched the small part of his cheek with his finger. "Forgive me, I didn't get your name."

"It's Kira!" She blurted out too eagerly, but then caught herself afterwards, a tint of pink coloring her cheeks. The young man had noticed but didn't say anything and smiled in return as he held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kira. My name's Gaara."

Kira stared at the hand outstretched towards her and slowly took it. Her hand slipped into his, and it fit comfortably. His hand was a bit rough yet warm, she noted, and he shook her hand slowly, his grasp firm yet gentle at the same time. She liked how his hand felt against hers, familiar and safe, and when the movement stopped, his hand lingered on hers for a while. She felt her heart sink when he finally let go.

"Well, umm… it was really nice meeting you, Kira. Thank you again for your help," Gaara smiled softly to her.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, too, Gaara!" Kira smiled back, and then muttered, "Umm, well, uhhh… I guess I gotta go…"

Gaara watched her as she turned her back from him and started to walk away. What a kind and gentle soul, he thought. He watched her as her dark hair swayed along with her every move, and he noted how pretty she looked in her pastel green blouse, complimenting her skin tone. He felt a foreign tug in his heartstrings as he saw her walk farther from him, and before he knew it, he was already calling out to her.

"Kira -- wait!" Upon hearing him call out her name, Kira didn't hesitate and immediately turned around to face him. "Y-Yes?"

Gaara immediately approached her and stopped two feet away from her. "W-well, umm…" he stuttered, "You see, I, umm, signed up for a free succulent workshop tomorrow downstairs. I, uhh... it's my first time to join and I don't know anyone there. P-perhaps... you would like to join me?"

Kira's eyes widened, not quite sure if what she was hearing was true.

"Then uhh…," he continued, "Maybe, afterwards, we can talk about it over tea. I mean, well, I could really use your help. But that is, of course, if you're fine with it!" He seemed flustered as he said this, scratching the side of his cheek again with his finger.

Kira felt her heart warm up as a grin formed itself on her lips. This boy had just asked her out, and though she really couldn't believe it at first, she knew what she was going to answer him, anyway.

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled at him sweetly, her heart full of excitement and joy.

"Of course," she beamed. "I would love to."

The night sky once ruled my imagination Now I turn the dials with careful calculation After a while, I thought I'd never find you I convinced myself that I would never find you When suddenly I saw you

-“Venus”, Sleeping At Last

#gaara x reader #secret santa #konoha simps #konoblog-simps #kira #sparkleswritings #gaara #gaara fanfiction #gaara one-shot

32 notes · View notes

multibug · 3 years

Text

i'm out of my head and i know that you're scared (because hearts get broken)

chapters: 19/? (chapter one is a prelude from my love square fluff series and is included) words: 51,441 relationships: adrien agreste/marinette dupain-cheng, alya cesaire/nino lahiffe tags: Alternate Universe - No Kwamis, Chatting & Messaging, Long-Distance Friendship, Identity Reveal, Slow Burn, Influencers, Aged-Up Character(s), Human Kwamis, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Lila Shakes Things Up summary: ren from ren and stimpy: think its the opposite u furry lookin ass

right chat: Rena, nooo!!

ren from ren and stimpy: rena yes

or, Adrien is a streamer on top of his modeling job, with the help of his long-distance friends Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge. Shenanigans ensue, and the masks they’ve hidden behind for years begins to break.

“You’re telling me that some bitch—”

Nino sputters out a mildly horrified laugh. “Alya!”

A strand of hair is tucked behind her ear by said snapback-clad boy and she huffs loudly. “What, Nino? It’s not as if I’m wrong. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, she stole my identity?!”

“Yeah, we only realized she wasn’t you when the two of you returned from your trip and messaged us,” Adrien supplies helplessly, shifting to tuck a leg under him.

Alya gives both him and Marinette the stink eye, though Adrien’s sure it’s just a test if he knows her well enough. “How could you ever think someone like that was me?”

“To be fair, Als,” Marinette starts off, voice gentle as she scooches closer to Adrien to lean against his arm. “We didn’t really get to talk to her. I tried messaging her on Discord and on Twitch, but she kept claiming she was busy anytime I reached out. I figured you were just upset over the breakup originally and needed your space, you know? I didn’t want to push it.”

The redhead’s harsh exterior fades, and they’re left with a sad one instead. “Yeah, it’s just bizarre that she’d even want my account? Is she that obsessed with sunshine over here?”

“Hey! Don’t say that.” Adrien’s cheeks flush a deep shade of red, which has Marinette pinching them. He grabs her hands and huffs. “Hey to you too!”

Marinette’s laughter is contagious. “Hey, what’s up?”

Alya raises an eyebrow in Marinette’s direction and leans in to whisper into her ear. Whatever Alya says has Marinette’s cheeks burning a bright shade of pink that travels to her neck and parts of her shoulders. She quickly removes her hands from Adrien’s, yet stays tucked against his side.

Both of them blinking over in Adrien’s direction has him believing it had something to do with him.

“Whatever the case may be,” Adrien begins, flicking his hair out of his eyes. He’s not thinking about those last few seconds. Nope. “We need to be smart about this, Ren—Alya. She has your account right now and has all of our subscribers like putty in her hands.”

“Adrien’s right. If we go about this the wrong way, they might think we’re lying, and we do not want for that to happen,” Nino chimes in, resting a reassuring hand on Alya’s shoulder as she begins to close in on herself.

“It’s weird seeing you be reasonable,” Marinette comments idly, her hair splaying out over Adrien’s arm and shoulder.

Nino hums. “Only when it’s needed.”

“That’s a good way to live.”

“Yeah, I try.” Nino flips his non-existent long hair over his shoulder.

“So what do we do?” Alya’s voice is soft, nowhere near as confident as the girl they know.

Marinette sends her a reassuring smile. “Max is working on getting the account back as we speak. Going through the conventional means won’t work, but if anyone can do it, it’s Max.”

“He said he’d call once he has the account back, so instead of sitting around all day like plebs, I’ve planned us a little adventure.” Nino’s lips curve into a smirk that excites Adrien. “Get dressed, lads and ladettes. We’ve places to be, things to see!”

“Do you have any idea what he’s got planned?” Marinette asks both Adrien and Alya as Nino disappears into the guest room to supposedly finish getting ready.

A light breeze travels in through the screen door of the balcony. It’s chillier than it’s been the last few days, though not nearly as cold as Paris is during this time of year. Birds still flock regularly on Marinette’s balcony, a few residing today with the leftovers of what she’d given them earlier.

Adrien loves it here.

(Marinette definitely isn’t the main reason, no. He wouldn’t admit it to himself if he was paid to.)

“No idea,” Alya replies with a shrug, a far-off look in her eye. “I’m going to go get dressed.” As soon as the look had appeared, it vanished, and she follows Nino to change.

“We have to keep an eye on her,” Marinette whispers, a bit too close to constitute a reasonable amount of personal space, but Adrien isn’t complaining. “I don’t like seeing her like this.”

His heart warms at how caring she is. “You’re too nice, Bug. She’ll be okay, but we’ll be there for her if she needs us, okay?”

He hopes his reassurance is enough to quell her worries.

It does seem to be enough, and a huge smile breaks out on her face. “Thanks, Adrien. You’re the best.” She leaves him with a quick, slightly wet kiss on the cheek and scurries out of the room with a giggle, much to Adrien’s amusement.

He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, shaking his head fondly. If that’s how she wants to play, then so be it.

Game on.

— — —

PANINI: gamers im taking the ladies out today if you guys want to come, let me know and i’ll dm you the details

Banana head: NINO, YOU IDIOT. I’M NOT A LADY. Who changed my name? I will end you.

chlo: rmbr u rmbr right?

Banana head: Chlo, I swear to all that is holy. Don’t tell that story.

chlo: how much?

RENegade: is sHE ASKING FOR SEX???

marimba: SEX???????? wheRE?????

chlo: GOD NO I’M A LESBIAN WHAT THE FUCK

Kagami: Lesbian, huh? ;)

chlo: kagami stfu is2g

Kagami: ;)

chlo: ANYWAYS how much money, adri

Banana head: You want another Louis Vuitton bag, don’t you?

chlo: IT’S THE NEWEST OF THE SEASON AND THEY WON’T LET ME HAVE IT

Banana head: Sigh. I’ll see what I can do.

chlo: thanks bitch! you’re the bomb bomb dot com bomb diggity someone take away my phone

Alix: hey, @Carapace, what time are you guys going out? rose, juleka and i are about to see a movie but if it’s after that, we can meet up

PANINI: we were gonna head out before the rain hit so in like five minutes

Juls: drat we can just hang out another time then :( have fun guys!!!!

marimba: YOU TOO JULES I LOVE YOU BITCH

Juls: I AIN’T EVER GON STOP LOVING YOU

Alix: BITCH

Banana head: Best meme. 10/10.

luka: how can you say that when the chicken nuggets meme exists

marimba: I ONLY HAVE 69 CENTS!! GOOD MEME!!!!!!

luka: see even marinette knows

marimba: haha it has 69 in it haha haha ha

Banana head: You’re such a child!!!!

marimba: COMING FROM THE MAN WITH THE NAME BANANA HEAD WHERE’S CHLOE I’LL GET HER THE LOUIS VUITTON BAG IF IT MEANS HER TELLING THE STORY

Banana head: I’M KIDDING. I’M KIDDING!!!!

marimba: that’s what i thought :)

PANIN(o)I: y’all better be ready we leaving now let’s GO

RENegade: I’M COMING BITCH CHILLLLL

marimba: wITHOUT ME????

Adrien’s been ready for a bit, but he doesn’t mind waiting.

He decided on wearing a pair of black jeans instead of shorts, just in case it rains while they’re out, and a black sweater with a thick jean jacket. His hair is a dark brown shade, still lightening at a slow rate, though he doesn’t mind it much at this shade.

He wouldn’t dye it again to match, but he’ll let it fade as he’s enjoying the brunet life.

Marinette’s bedroom door squeaks open and she appears through the door, dressed and ready to go.

And wow. No one should look that good, and she pulls it off so easily.

Her bangs frame her face like curtains, her hair just past shoulder length from being straightened. Her bright blue eyes blink amusedly at him, lips arching into a smile.

The only makeup he spots is on her lips, a lip gloss that makes her lips look super kissable. “Problem, Agreste?”

Laughter bubbles out of his lips, and he averts his eyes. “None, Dupain-Cheng. Just admiring your beauty, is all.” Lying won’t help his cause, so he might as well be honest.

She rolls her eyes, hard enough to hurt, yet her cheeks give her away. “Sure, whatever you say!”

His eyes flash over her attire. While she’s not dressed up by any means, the outfit she chose suits her so well.

Wait. Is she trying to kill him?

With the impending rain and whether they’ll end up caught in the crossfire, she’s chosen a black baggy sweater, denim jeans with large holes around the knees with fishnet stockings underneath, and black old-skool vans.

And to top it off, she’s wearing his merch. His Chat Noir sweater that’s completely black, with white lettering in the center that says, “I’m the Chat’s meow”. He hadn’t noticed at first, been too preoccupied with, er, other things—her lips—and he’d lie if he said his face didn’t get slightly hot at seeing her in person in his merch.

“I thought you only bought the sweatpants, Bug?” He asks offhandedly, eyes averting from her for a second time.

(He has no idea the nickname brings another bout of red to her cheeks.)

“Shut up or I will take it off right now—”

“Oh, please d—”

She’s in front of him in a second, her hand firmly covering his mouth with a menacing look in her eyes. “Adrien Agreste, if you continue with that sentence, I will murder you and I won’t tell anyone where I hid your body—”

Adrien bursts out laughing the best he can, and it sounds so bizarre with her hand muffling it. His own hand finds her wrist and wraps around it, gently prying it away from his face. “Bug, please, you’re going to kill me!”

“You’re not wrong about that,” she affirms with her eyes narrowed. She allows him to keep hold of her wrist.

“I was kidding,” he murmurs, eyes locking with hers as he brings her wrist to his lips and presses a light kiss to her skin. With how close she is, he can feel her breath hitch, so he sends her his best smile. “I would never want to make you uncomfortable.”

Marinette’s head tilts to the side, face softening. Her free hand finds his cheeks and she squeezes them gently. “You’ve never made me uncomfortable before, and you haven’t now. I was kidding as well.”

His eyes brighten. “Oh, so that means you—”

“You’re absolutely hopeless!” Her forehead drops to his shoulder as she whines loudly.

“There, there,” he says, hand wrapping around her to pat her back. “You’ll be okay, Bug, don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

She’s warm, so warm against him that his jacket feels stifling, and he tugs her closer, enjoying—savoring this moment with her. He doesn’t have many days left in Nice, and he wants to cherish every second he can.

There goes his heart again, pitter-pattering away, following hers like a lost puppy.

If only she knew.

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #Nino lahiffe #streamer au #mine #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #i finally wrote it!#its' finally posted!!!!!!!!!!!#AAAAAAAAAAAH #i hope you guys enjoy #this is only part one of two tho :p #also this is not beta'd #ill probably fix it later but i aint give a FUCK #ladynoir #but unconventionally

15 notes · View notes

ivory-line · 3 years

Text

2020 Fic Roundup

Welcome to the final day of 2020! I’m so glad you could all join me here at the end of a year long dumpster fire. I’ve spent a considerable amount of my time writing which is something that has brought me joy and frustration, often in equal measures. A good deal of it has been fan fiction, some of it original. I recently took a look in the shadowy corner where my WIPs reside and was alarmed to see they were wielding knives. I appear to be engaged in a hostage situation, though it’s not immediately obvious which of us is the captor. I’m not too worried about it, I’m sure it’ll resolve itself with time.

Well, anyway. My point is I have exchanged a large amount of lovingly crafted collections of words and every single one of them has strangely, wonderfully culminated in a love story. I, like many of you, have spent this year writing long form love letters. I’ll be compiling a list below in descending chronological order of the stories I’ve told this year, all the times that I’ve thought about love and felt compelled to share the feeling.

There’s a Joke Here Somewhere (and it’s on me) Rated E | 3602 words | WIP

This is my entry for the GO Events Mystery AU Event. The tone I’ve used here is different than my usual one in that it’s a bit more somber. It’s a murder mystery set in Oklahoma featuring Crowley as a Northerner and Aziraphale as an Okie. I’m trying my hand at angst and enjoying it immensely, but I promise a happy ending.

Yellow Grass, High Tide Rated M | 42,700 words | WIP

This fic is my baby, my pride and joy. Another GO Event entry, this one is an enemies to lovers seaside neighbors AU. It features footnotes and attempts at humor. Crowley builds a life he chooses, gets a cat, and falls in love. There’s plenty of bicker flirting, old married couple energy, and of course our sweet bastard Aziraphale.

Lavender and Honey Rated E | 916 words | Completed

My second ever attempt at writing smut. It’s short and sweet featuring sleepy sex. Sometime in the future in the South Downs Crowley talks Aziraphale into giving sleep a try. It’s very cozy and very loving.

A Soft Yellow Light Rated G | 1,281 words | Completed

What can I say about this one besides it’s Soft. Crowley shows up at the bookshop suffering from a spot of insomnia. He cuddles up with Aziraphale in the back room and Aziraphale holds him through the night, a soft and steadfast guardian. I wrote this when I was feeling sleep and touch deprived myself. Just a calm and muted tone.

A Little Spilled Sauce Never Hurt Anyone Rated T | 500 words | Completed

A short, silly fic where Aziraphale comes home to find that Crowley has botched spaghetti.

House Calls Rated G | 497 words | Completed

Aziraphale finds a book in his shop that belongs to Crowley and goes to his flat to confront him about his claims that he doesn’t read. It’s kinda silly getting together ficlet.

When is a Snake not a Snake Rated G | 1,187 words | Completed

So this fic spawned from a very goofy discussion on discord about whether or not Aziraphale has ever eaten snake. Here I posit that yes, he has and he feels terribly guilty about it. Crowley finds the whole thing hilarious. This is also when I figured out how to do footnotes, a momentous occasion indeed.

Matching Pieces Rated E | 3,115 words | Completed

My very first time writing smut! I spent days blushing in front of my computer screen and cringing whenever I typed dirty words. It takes place directly after the church scene in 1941. Aziraphale tends to Crowley’s burnt feet and in the resulting tension they end up sleeping together. It’s bittersweet hurt/comfort and Crowley leaves the bookshop with mended feet and a bruised heart.

Little Secrets Rated M | 2,030 words | WIP

Sigh. This is an AU I started where Crowley is a rich playboy heir and Aziraphale is a journalist. I posted the first 2 chapters and wrote 2 more and decided that my story would be better approached from a different angle. I intend to do some rewrites and when I do this will be a fucking while pining fic.

5 Times Aziraphale Discorporated Crowley (Plus One Time He Didn’t) Rated T | 5,706 words | Completed

What it says on the tin. This started as a writing exercise to practice writing fight scenes that grew a life of it’s own. I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds and the violence is at a T level, but it does get angsty at parts. The ending of this fic is one of my favorite bits I’ve written this year and never fear, our boys are happy and in love in the South Downs.

Living in Lightning Rated T | 7,015 words | Completed

I’m not sure if this counts but I wrote the last chapter this year so I’m including it. The first chapter is the night at Crowley’s flat before their trials where they practice impersonating each other. The second chapter is a love confession after The Ritz. The last chapter is their life in the South Downs. I’m really fond of the final chapter and it’s something I would love to expand upon.

Allow me a moment to assault you with sap. I am so eternally thankful for all of you. Being able to connect with people through fandom has meant so much during this isolating year. If you’ve engaged with me, or my work, in anyway I want you to know it means a lot to me and I really can’t thank you enough.

#good omens #my fic #long post #wow laying it all out like this makes me realize just how much i’ve done this year #i love all of you thank you for both reading and sharing fics with me

13 notes · View notes

searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 10/11

Here’s another M rated chapter, and this time for a more enjoyable reason :) In addition to sexy times, there are a lot of revelations in this chapter. I can’t believe we are almost to the end! You all have been so supportive of this story, especially those of you who were fans of the original. Thank you for trusting me and sticking with this new version!

Thank you once again to the mods of the @captainswanbigbang for hosting the Captain Swan Rewrite a Thon. Also massive thanks to my betas @shippingtheswann and @optimisticgirl. I also owe a lot to all of my fellow writers in the discord chats for your conversations about creating my own version of Neverland and the other realms.

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: About 5k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Chapter Ten: No Lovelier Sight

Killian stands behind the wheel, the biting air here above the clouds cutting across his cheeks. Above him, the pegasus sail snaps in the breeze as they make their way to Neverland. Below him, Emma stands looking out at the blue sky and wispy clouds, her hair flying around her like an enchantress. Milah’s old skirts billow around her as well, the bottom hem only hitting the top of her boots. After all, their former owner was but seventeen when she died, and Emma is a woman of twenty-three.

He had sat upon the edge of his cot earlier after retrieving Milah’s things from her old trunk, Emma next to him, and told her more about the girl they had once belonged to as well as what she had meant to him. He doesn’t plan on hiding anything from Emma, especially not when she walked away from the only realm that has ever been her home.

Yet Emma had barely reacted to his story, simply staring straight ahead, her occasional nods the only sign that she was listening at all. She hasn’t spoken much at all since he told her about Henry.

“Starkey,” Killian calls, “can you take over?”

“Of course sir,” his first mate answers, handing the sextant over to Curly.

With the ship in capable hands, Killian moves to the lower deck and slowly approaches Emma. She turns to him, managing a trembling smile as she pushes her hair out of her eyes.

“The air is thin and cold at this altitude,” Killian says, “are you sure you don’t want my coat?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t feel it,” she tells him softly, “I don’t feel anything.”

He isn’t sure what comfort she needs from him, but he opens his arms for her. Emma comes willingly, pressing her face to his collarbone and grasping him tightly about the waist. She shudders, and he wraps his arms around her.

“You’ve had a lot to process in a very short amount of time,” he tells her soothingly as he rubs her back gently. “First your attack, and then the news about your son . . . “

“I just don’t understand,” Emma mumbles against his chest. “He was a newborn baby. A woman was adopting him. A woman with a nice home in a nice little town.”

“I don’t know, love,” Killian sighs, wishing he could help her more. “Tink said that giving him up wasn’t easy for John Darling. He had him for two years before he brought him to Neverland. I think he got a bit attached.”

“But he didn’t love him,” Emma says bitterly, stepping out of Killian’s embrace and swiping angrily at the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Not enough, anyway.”

Killian can only nod, for he fully agrees. There’s really nothing more he can say. Emma reaches for his hand, and he takes it, lacing their fingers together. She pulls him near as she turns back to look at the clouds as they roll by. She pulls his arms around her waist and leans her back against his chest. Her hair smells like vanilla and cinnamon. Her hand slides down his left arm to grasp his hook, and he can hardly breathe past the lump in his throat.

“He’s five years old now, Killian. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to grow up like me.”

“There’s one difference between your childhood and his, though. His mother is on her way to rescue him.”

Emma turns in his embrace, and a tear rolls down her cheek. “What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me? What if he hates me?”

Killian catches the tear with the pad of his thumb, then caresses the dimple in her chin. “I don’t see how anyone can hate you, my love. And children are infinitely forgiving. Think back to when you were five, Emma.”

She gives him a tremulous smile even as her eyes flood with more tears. He lets his forehead drop to hers, though he won’t initiate a kiss. That will be on her timetable, not his.

“My love,” she whispers, “I like the sound of that.”

She turns her head into his shoulder and wraps her arms around his neck as he holds her tighter.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. That’s all I want for you.”

“What I want is my son. To love him and have him love me back. Is that selfish?”

Killian buries his fingers in her hair. “Not at all. I believe that’s called a mother’s heart.”

*****************************************

“It’s beautiful,” Emma breathes as soon as the Jolly Roger settles upon the waves after her magical flight. Killian comes to stand at Emma’s side, taking in the sight of Neverland on the horizon with fresh eyes. Dead Man’s Peak is no longer a hulk of jagged rock, but a verdant mountain. Skull Rock has mostly crumbled into the sea, leaving behind a shimmering coral reef. The ribbon of Rainbow Falls can even be seen cascading down into the valley.

“It wasn’t always,” Killian sighs, “but you’re right, it’s gorgeous now.”

Emma grins as she leans farther over the railing of the ship, and Killian’s heart is warmed to see it upon her face. She awoke this morning in a cold sweat, thrashing against an unseen foe. When she finally calmed in the circle of his arms, she explained the nightmare. She was back in that crumbling house, being attacked by those men, only her lad was there too. She was reliving her trauma, that Killian knew all too well, but he also guessed that her fears about meeting her son were also wrapped up in her nightmares.

“Mermaids!” she exclaims, pointing.

Killian leans over with her, and sure enough, a school of mermaids are leaping through the water alongside the ship. Frankly, he feels they’re showing off with their over-the-top acrobatics.

“They’re so colorful,” Emma observes.

“Aye,” Killian says, slipping his arm around Emma’s shoulder, “they’re happy to have their lagoon back. Soon the island will be teeming with the mystical creatures that used to live here so long ago.”

Emma shakes her head. “I still can’t believe Peter Pan was evil in real life.” Then she frowns. “And I’m a little pissed that I don’t get to kill him myself for what he did to my son.”

Killian holds back a chuckle, for he knows her anger is real. It makes his blood boil as well. Yet he loves this bold and brilliant woman, and admires her avenging spirit probably more than he should. He brushes a kiss to her temple.

“I would bring him back if I could, just so I could see you unleash your wrath on him. The gods know he deserves it.”

Emma wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his chest. “Thank you for saving Henry.”

“You’ve said that far too many times already, Swan.”

“Well, you’ll just have to hear me say it again.”

Hook and his crew sail the Jolly Roger into Pirate’s Cove as they always have, but even his men are struck silent at how the island has changed. Bright flowers bloom, and the songs of tropical birds fill the air. The remnants of Rainbow Falls trickles over the rocks of the bluffs ahead in a soothing rhythm.

Killian leaves his men with the ship and guides Emma through the thick trees, following the river that cuts through the island. Tink and Tiger Lily told him that no more dreamshade grows here. Every time a pixie dust tree blooms with new life, every dreamshade plant in its vicinity shrivels up and dies. Killian is glad he no longer has to fear the evil plant.

Emma is quiet as they walk along the path to the home of the fairies. He senses her nerves, and gives her hand a comforting squeeze. The smile she gives him is forced, but she squeezes back.

Tiger Lily and Tinkerbell no longer have reason to hide their domicile, so the cave is now open to the sunshine, and smoke rises cheerily from the chimney.

“This looks cozy,” Emma says, biting her lip.

“Aye, though the smoke there is just for show. Tink has this idea that every home needs a fire going, even when it’s bloody 99 degrees outside.”

Emma manages a nervous laugh and follows him down the short passageway to the main part of the house. Killian taps his hook in the open doorway to alert those inside to their presence.

Tiger Lily, unsurprisingly, isn’t home. Tink is at the sink doing dishes, but gasps and drops a bowl into the sudsy water when she sees her guests. Her hands fly to her mouth as she dashes across the room.

“You’re . . . you’re Henry’s mother!”

Emma gives Killian a surprised look, and he shakes his head in confusion.

“How in the world do you know that, Tink?”

“Oh Hook, really? I’m a fairy, I know these things.”

“She’s been impossible since she got her wings back,” Killian tells Emma.

Said wings flutter in indignation as Tink glares at him. “And you, Hook, have no manners. You haven’t even introduced me to our guest.”

“I didn’t have a chance the way you’ve been blubbering on.”

“I’m Emma,” Swan interrupts, giving Killian a pointed look, “and yes, I’m Henry’s mother.” She glances around the room, worrying once again at her bottom lip. “Where is he?”

“He’s napping,” Tink says, “but we could tiptoe in there if you like.”

“Should I?” Emma asks nervously. “I mean, I don’t want to scare him.”

Tink waves her hand. “He sleeps like a rock, believe me. Such a pleasant, sweet child, really.”

Emma’s cheeks pink and her hands twist nervously as she follows Tink down the short hallway. The fairy opens the door slowly to reveal a darkened room with twinkling lights strung from the ceiling. In one corner is a twin sleigh bed, and snuggled under the soft blankets is a little boy with chestnut hair. Emma’s trembling hand flies to her lips as she tiptoes closer. His cheeks are plump, his ears stick out from his head in an adorable way, and Emma can’t help noticing that he has Neal’s nose. She glances behind her and sees that Killian and Tink have slipped away to give her privacy.

Emma sinks to her knees beside the bed, her hand hovering over the child’s head. A half sob chokes in her throat as she gently strokes her little boy’s soft hair. He shifts in his sleep, clutching the teddy bear at his chest a bit tighter, and Emma quickly pulls her hand back. He rolls over, flinging one arm out, and that’s when Emma sees it: the buttercup birthmark that matches hers. The one she hasn’t seen since the day he was born. There’s no mistaking it, this is her son.

She rises from the floor and tiptoes back out of the room and down the hall. When she sees Killian, he gives her a concerned look, and she flies to him. He lets out a puff of breath when she collides with his chest, but he instinctively holds her tight.

“He’s beautiful,” she chokes out.

******************************

“John Darling adopted Henry when he was three years old. Apparently, he had terrible colic as an infant and severe night terrors after that, so he had been difficult for children’s services to place.”

Tink’s words seem to have little effect on Emma. Killian watches her with concern. The cup of tea in her hands is surely cold by now, and Emma hasn’t lifted it to her lips once since Tink gave it to her. She stares into the flames of the enchanted fire and idly pushes Wendy’s old rocking chair back and forth with her foot. Tink catches Killian’s gaze in concern, but he gives her a barely perceptible shake of his head. If Emma wants to engage, she can, but he won’t force her.

Tink clears her throat and leans towards Emma. “I believe Henry’s difficulties - the colic and the night terrors - has to do with him being a child of two realms.”

That catches Emma’s attention, and her gaze snaps quickly to Tink. “Two realms?”

Tink opens her mouth, but before she can explain, a small voice pipes up from the hallway, and Henry shuffles in. His face is flushed and sweaty from sleep, his hair is sticking up crazily, and he drags his teddy bear behind him by one leg. He freezes when he sees Emma and Killian. Tink notices and rushes to scoop the boy up on her lap.

“Henry, you remember Killian, right?” She brushes at his hair as Henry nods shyly. “And this . . . “

Tink edges towards Emma slowly, and Emma sets down her cup of tea with shaking hands. She edges onto her knees so she is eye level with Henry.

“ . . . this,” Tink continues, “is your mother, Henry. She’s come for you.”

“Hi, Henry,” Emma whispers, smiling despite her choked voice.

The boy blinks as he takes Emma in, then he eases off Tink’s lap and comes closer to the mother he hasn’t seen since the day of his birth. Killian can tell Emma is overwhelmed and that she longs to touch her son. He also knows she won’t until the child is ready.

Henry pulls his teddy bear closer and rests his chin between the toy’s ears. “Do you want to see my other toys?” he asks Emma softly.

Emma’s smile is wide and beaming. “Yes, I would like that.”

Henry reaches out and takes Emma’s hand. Once they’re out of sight, Killian drops his face to his hands, unable to help the tears that leak out of the corners of his eyes.

*******************************

“I can scarcely believe how much it’s changed,” Killian muses to Tinkerbell as he looks around him, “we were only gone a few days.”

He’s lounging on a picnic blanket, Tink sitting cross-legged next to him. Emma has taken Henry down to the edge of the water for a swim. The blanket is scattered with the remains of their lunch.

“It truly is beautiful,” Tink says with a sigh.

Killian tosses an apple core into the woods behind him, then lays back, flinging his arm across his eyes and resting his hook on his stomach. Tink gives a sardonic half laugh, haugh snort.

“Don’t get too comfortable, pirate, there are still a few lost boys out there.”

Killian rises up on his elbows and arches a brow at the fairy. “You think they’d cause trouble?”

Tink shrugs, squinting out at the water. “Felix was loyal to Pan almost to the point of obsession. They’ve melted into the deepest part of the jungle and are quiet for now, but . . . “

“Well, I’m not borrowing trouble,” Killian grumbles. His eyes find Emma and Henry, and his voice grows thick with emotion. “I’d rather enjoy a quiet moment while I have it.”

The sun shines on the water of Mermaid Lagoon, making it sparkle like diamonds. The songs of the mermaids float on the air, and it’s just as beautiful as Tink had always said. Henry is knee deep in the water, laughing every time one of the mermaids flicks her tail at him. They’ve learned that the creatures can be rather mischievous, but one named Ariel has taken a particular liking to Henry. Ariel’s their princess, actually, and her fondness for the boy means they all remain on their best behavior with him.

Killian laughs at Henry’s antics. Each time he lunges for a mermaid tail, said mermaid darts away, and the five year old ends up splashing face first into the water. Yet every time, he resurfaces with a sputtering giggle. Killian’s gaze shifts to Emma. She and Tink are the same size, so the fairy has loaned her some clothes. Emma is currently wearing a one-shouldered dress of ocean green that hugs her figure. The skirt normally hits just below her calves, but Emma has it hitched up to her knees. She sits on a rock next to Henry, her legs in the water. Henry splashes her, and she splashes back. Then Emma opens her arms wide, and Henry launches himself into her embrace. Emma presses him close, not caring that he’s getting her completely wet.

“These two weeks have been good for both of them,” Tink comments.

“Aye,” Killian agrees, unable to tear his gaze away from the woman he loves. Emma rises from the rock, cradling Henry like a baby, and walks up the beach towards them. Killian can see that Henry is getting sleepy by the way his arms have gone slack in his mother’s arms. Sure enough, when Emma deposits him on the picnic blanket, the lad’s eyelids are drooping. Emma wraps him up in a towel, and Henry curls up in a ball on the blanket, hugging his teddy bear close. Emma catches Killian’s gaze and smiles as she brushes Henry’s wet hair out of his face. Soon, the boy’s breaths even out, and he’s fast asleep.

Emma frowns. “Do you think it’s okay for him to sleep out here? He’s wet.”

“Don’t fret, my love,” Killian tells her, “the sun is warm, and you have him wrapped up snugly.”

Emma nods, but still bites her lip in concern. She’s only been a mother for two weeks, after all. What does she know? Killian probably knows more than she does after all his years of rescuing lost boys. Mason was Henry’s age when he joined the crew, so Killian had practically been a teen father.

“Swan,” Killian says gently, taking her hand and rubbing her knuckles gently, “you’re wonderful with him. A natural.”

She lets out a long sigh and gives him a wobbly smile. How he manages to read her like that is another thing she’s having to get used to. She watches her son sleep, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. Once he allowed her to touch him, she couldn't seem to get enough: hugs, rubbing noses, brushing his hair off his forehead, cheek kisses. Henry loves the affection too, often leaping onto her lap and cupping her face with his chubby little hands. One of Henry’s arms is flung out in sleep, a habit of his that Emma finds adorable. His birthmark catches her eye, as it often does.

“Tink,” she says softly, “these two weeks have been great. But don’t you think it’s time you explained to me what the hell this all means?”

Emma doesn’t miss the glance Tink tosses Killian’s way, yet the furrow upon Killian’s brow likely matches hers. He’s already told her about Pan searching for the heart of the truest believer and about the significance of Henry’s birthmark. What neither of them can understand is how she fits into all of this.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tink hedges.

“None of that, you bloody stubborn fairy,” Killian admonishes in a teasing voice. “You said that Henry would be a child of two realms, but from what Emma and I can gather, he’s a child of only one. A land without magic.”

Tink sighs, then looks at Emma questioningly. “Tell me about his father again.”

Emma shrugs. “He was just a boy. An ordinary runaway.”

“A right jackass is what he was.”

“Killian!”

“Well he was!” Killian protests, and Emma can’t help but smile at his indignation. They’ve had many long nights filling in all the details of their time apart, and Killian is definitely not a fan of Neal.

Tink says nothing, her gaze distant, and Emma can practically see gears turning in her head. Killian looks nervous too, for some reason. Emma glances back and forth between them.

“What are the two of you not telling me?”

“A child of two realms,” Killian says, his gaze falling on Henry, “and . . . “

“A child of royalty,” Tink fills in.

Emma blinks and gasps, “You can’t be saying . . . I mean, you don’t really think . . . but I’m no different than Neal! A nobody, nothing, I -”

“You were never nothing,” Killian interrupts her firmly.

Her gaze softens at the intensity in his voice, but then she shakes her head, the implications of it all overwhelming.

“You’re from a realm of magic, Emma,” Tink says, “it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“I was abandoned,” Emma argues.

“Think about it, darling,” Killian says softly, “you were found wrapped in a blanket that had your name stitched into it. Does that sound like careless parents to you?”

Emma rubs at her temple.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Tink says, “but the prophecy about the truest believer was very clear. You , Emma Swan, are not only from a magical realm, you’re also -”

“A princess,” Killian finishes for the fairy. Emma’s head snaps up at the sadness in his voice. His jaw clenches as he rises to his feet. “Which is why this idyllic little holiday must come to an end. My ship and my crew are at your disposal, your highness. I swear to you, we will find your family and your kingdom.”

Before she can process what he’s saying or the sudden formality in his voice, he’s turning away and striding quickly back through the jungle. Emma looks at Tink, her eyes blinking in confusion.

“What the hell is up with him?”

Tink sighs. “Captain Hook has quite the problem with self-loathing, I’m afraid.”

***********************************

Killian is slowly coming up from the depths of a deep sleep, fighting the persistent whisper of his name. Then soft lips brush across his, and he doesn’t want to fight it. His eyes blink open, and he squints in the dark, trying to see. A cool hand, a whisp of soft hair, and those lips again on the shell of his ear.

“Follow me, Killian.”

He thinks he’s dreaming at first, but when his arms reach for Emma’s side of the bed, and he finds it empty, the last cobwebs of sleep flee his brain. He sits up, heart pounding at first until he sees Emma in the doorway, smiling at him. She tilts her head in a gesture that says come on, and seems to glide out into the hallway. He knows it’s the illusion of her long, white satin nightgown, but it makes her look ethereal all the same.

Once he’s up and doing her bidding, she picks up her skirts and runs on her bare feet down the hall, through the parlor, and out of the cave. He swears he hears her giggle once they’re out in the moonlight, but he’s beginning to wonder again if this is a dream.

She stops at the edge of Mermaid Lagoon, and whirls to face him. He skids to a stop at the picture she makes, the light of the full moon pouring over her figure and illuminating her hair. That damn nightgown leaves little to the imagination, honestly, especially in this lighting. She smirks at him, as if she’s read his mind. Then she’s slipping the straps of the nightgown from her shoulders, letting the satin fall soundlessly around her feet. He’s completely shell-shocked now, blinking and practically gasping for air as he takes in her naked form, flawless and strong in the moonlight. They haven’t been intimate since her attack, and the sight before him causes an instant physical reaction. He suddenly realizes that he rushed after Emma without a shirt, without his brace, without his hook.

Without a weapon. He glances nervously at the jungle behind them, but Emma laughs.

“Is this a dream? A trick?”

She shakes her head and gives him a soft smile. “Killian. Seriously? I just felt we needed some time alone.”

That last word - alone - falls from her lips with weighted meaning. Then before he can respond or take another step, she turns and slips into the waters of the lagoon. She goes under soundlessly, then comes back up, only her head out of the water.

“Aren’t you coming, pirate? Or do you not know how to swim?”

It’s Killian’s turn now to smirk as he quickly discards his sleeping pants. “Oh believe me, love, I’m good in the water.”

He dives in, cutting across the lagoon with easy strokes. He breaks the surface right in front of her, and Emma immediately wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her naked body to his. He shouldn’t succumb to this temptation, not when he knows now who she really is and where she comes from. Yet his arms go around her automatically, and his forehead drops to hers.

“Emma,” he groans, “why are you torturing me?”

“Why are you torturing me?” she counters.

“I’m sorry?”

Emma’s fingers find his wet hair as she presses herself ever closer. “It’s been over two weeks, Killian. I miss you.”

“I didn’t want to push you.”

She smiles, nuzzling her nose against his, “I know, and God, I love you for that, but I’m ready.”

“But since then we’ve . . . well, now we know -”

“Stop it,” she commands, pressing a finger to his lips. Lips that curl up into a smile before pressing a kiss to the pad of her finger. “What was that for?”

“You sounded so regal just then.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’m not a damn princess.”

Killian frowns. “Yes you are, and we should be reuniting you with your parents, your kingdo-”

Emma cuts him off with a fierce kiss, her tongue assaulting his, telling him far more with her actions than she ever could with words. He shouldn’t kiss her back, but their wet skin is pressed together, her fingers are digging into his scalp, and fire is coursing through his veins. Emma wraps her legs around his waist, and he’s completely incapable of rational thought. He slides his hand and stump down to hoist her up, grabbing her flesh in the process and eliciting a groan from deep in her throat. He shifts her so they are lined up perfectly, and she moans as he enters her. It’s quick, and slightly awkward in the water, but it’s been so long that neither of them mind. Emma’s legs tremble around him, and she drops her head to his shoulder as they both come down.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Killian tells her breathlessly.

“I did.”

He kisses her then, tenderly and with wonder. The jungle isn’t quiet; the water laps at the shore, crickets chirp, and leaves rustle. It feels like they can both finally breathe. He never wants it to end.

They stay in the water for a long time, never leaving one another’s embrace. Neither wants to break the spell of the night with words, so they speak with kisses instead. When they first try to leave the water, they make it only as far as the beach. He presses Emma into the sand with his weight, claiming her lips once again. Yet she’s the one who takes him, switching their positions and pinning his arms above his head. The moonlight is spilling over her again as she moves above him, her head thrown back, her breasts glorious. They come at the same time, and then Emma collapses against him, her hair everywhere. He gathers it in his hand as he presses a kiss to her shoulder.

The first light of dawn is just tinting the horizon when they finally get dressed. Killian tries not to look Emma in the eyes, worried still that this was all some sort of hazy dream, or worse, a goodbye.

He’s just slid his pants up to his waist when Emma comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her cheek to his back.

“This isn’t me saying goodbye, if that’s what you're thinking.”

His breath catches in shock. He’s not the only one who is perceptive. She’s smirking at him when he turns around, and she reaches up to cup his face in her hands.

“I love you, Killian Jones.”

“I love you, too.”

She searches his eyes. “I feel like my whole life, until now, I was just searching for something.”

He threads his fingers through her hair. “Aye love, I feel the same. Perhaps I have always been trying to find my way back to you.”

She gives him a tremulous smile, and he exults at what he sees in her eyes. Her next words, however, steal his breath.

“I don’t want to look for my parents.”

Killian frowns. “Emma, I’m sure they’ve been waiting for you all this time. Hoping, maybe even searching.”

She shakes her head. “I’m tired of living in the past. I’m ready to look forward - with you and with my son.” She presses a kiss to his lips and then drops her hands from his cheeks. Instead, she clasps both his hand and his stump and presses them to her chest.

Killian can scarcely breathe. “Swan, do you mean that you would . . . that is to say . . . “

Emma laughs as a single tear slips down her cheek. “Don’t make me ask you, pirate.”

He grins broadly as he presses his forehead to hers. “Marry me? Let me always, always be by your side? Let me be a father to Henry?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

Killian kisses her again as the sun breaks forth across Neverland.

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms @delirious-latenight-laughs

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #fate #angst #slow burn #childhood sweethearts

55 notes · View notes

fairyqueenofthedragons · 4 years

Text

Key to Knowledge

Fablekingdom chapter 3

Glad you all seem to like the story :D I'm having fun writing it. Sorry for the slight delay, life happens. Finals are coming up and I have a bunch of projects so I might be a bit slow on updates for the next few weeks.

(Find Chapter One with a server of “Fk ch 1″)

Come chat with me on discord: https://discord.gg/nwwcSQSUjh

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Breakfast the next morning was good. Lena had called it “cream of wheat”, mixed with berries and homemade raspberry preserves. There was also toast and butter, and orange juice.

Seth had his tongue poking out as he angled his butter knife to bounce sun rays in Kendra’s eyes. She was not close enough to the window to retaliate, so she settled for kicking his foot.

“Don’t blind your sister, Seth,” Grandpa said.

Seth put his butter knife down with a sigh, turning to Grandpa, “Where’s Dale?”

Kendra wondered the same thing, she hadn’t seen him today, was he still asleep? It was almost nine.

“Dale and I got up a few hours ago, finished most of the morning chores. He’s still out working, I’m just here to keep you company since it’s your first morning.”

“Will you guys be back for lunch?” Kendra asked.

“No, today I’m going to the North fields, I’ll be bringing lunch with me.” He studied the wall above them, looking uncomfortable. “I’ll likely be back for dinner.”

“Oh...” Kendra murmured, nibbling on some toast. She supposed he hadn’t particularly wanted them here anyways. He wasn’t required to spend all his time with them.

“You kids remember my rules?” Grandpa asked.

Seth nodded, shoving some cream of wheat in his mouth, “This is good.”

“Stay out of the woods and the barn,” Kendra answered her Grandpa. “And keep things neat and try not to break anything.”

“Good girl,” Grandpa said with a small smile. “There’s a swimming pool out back, it’s all set up so feel free to swim in it. If you don’t feel like swimming there are gardens as well, plus the yard as a whole to run around in. You might even find some surprises if you look around.”

He stood, folding his napkin.

“You’re also welcome to play in your room. Any questions?”

Kendra nodded, “When is Grandma coming back?”

Grandpa faltered, gaze darting to the clock.

“That depends on your Aunt Edna. If she recovers quickly than Ruth could be back next week, or it could be a couple of months.”

“Good thing Grandma’s not sick anymore,” Seth said, putting some jam on his toast.

“Sick?” Grandpa asked.

“You know,” Kendra said with a frown. “The illness that kept her from the funeral.”

“Oh yes,” He nodded. “That one. Well, she was still a little under the weather when she left but was feeling much better.”

“I’m sad we missed her,” Kendra said.

“Yeah, we haven’t seen her in years,” Seth added.

“She was sorry to miss you too,” Grandpa assured them as he pushed his chair in. “I’d best be off. Don’t forget sunblock if you swim and keep your video games inside.”

“Yes Grandpa,” Seth said.

“We’ll be good,” Kendra promised.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Kendra was dressed in her blue swimsuit, a towel over one shoulder, as she stepped onto the back porch. She had a water bottle under one arm and a very pretty handheld mirror she’d found in the nightstand by her bed in her hand.

She paused to admire the gardens that covered a good portion of the backyard. There were paths of white stones meandering through the flower beds and hedgerows. She could see the edge of a vegetable patch peeking out behind some hedges to the right of her, and some dry fountains over there too.

Just in front of the porch seemed to be an herb garden and around the pool were more flower beds and a ring of fruit trees. She didn’t recognize all the fruit there, only the two apple trees and cherry tree. Maybe that one was a peach tree?

She wondered if it was okay for them to eat any of them.

The flowers were really beautiful though, Kendra had never seen such brilliant blossoms.

Seth was already swimming, throwing some sinking toys and diving after them.

The pool looked really cool, with a black bottom and rocks surrounding it you could almost mistake it for a pond.

Kendra grinned and headed down the steps, following the short path to the pool side.

The garden around her was filled with birds and insects.

There were quick moving hummingbirds, wings nearly invisible as they moved from flower to flower.

Huge bumblebees buzzed around, two coming very close to her. She stilled for a moment, remembering the rule her dad taught her. As long as you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. They drifted past.

Kendra paused again as two butterflies alighted on some flowers by her, wings brilliant hues of blue and red. She’d never seen such brilliant butterflies. Then again, she’d never visited a garden this incredible either, it’s no wonder Grandpa Sorenson had so many chores.

“Beautiful,” she murmured.

The butterflies fluttered back up, flying around her for a moment before drifting away.

“Wow,” she whispered as she arrived at the pool. This really was an amazing backyard.

The poolside was paved, with some recliners and a circular glass table with a big umbrella in the center.

Seth climbed out of the pool as she arrived, waving as he leapt from a stone outcropping with a whoop. He hit the water with a big splash.

Kendra set her towel and mirror on the table and grabbed a bottle of sunblock. She took a few minutes to smear it on her skin, rubbing it in until it disappeared.

While Seth dove under water for another one of the sinking toys, Kendra picked up the mirror, carefully angling it so it reflected the sunlight. When Seth came up she aimed a big splotch of sunlight right in his eyes.

“Hey!”

Seth ducked back under water, coming back up in another spot. Kendra pointed the light right back at him.

“Cut it out!” Seth called.

“But I thought you liked playing with sunlight,” Kendra said.

Seth turned to glare but had to look away with the light in his eyes.

“I only did it a little! And Grandpa already told me to stop.”

Because that always stops him from doing something, but Kendra put the mirror down anyways.

“Don’t try to blind me again,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, swimming over to the side of the pool.

“How’s the water?” Kendra asked, walking over to the edge.

Seth grinned, and shoved the water forward to splash her.

She shrieked, surprised by the cold, before her eyes narrowed and she leapt over him into the water.

It took a moment to adjust to the temperature but then she quickly swam away from Seth, ducking under the water to avoid his splashing.

It ended in a splash fight, Seth swinging his arms in wide arcs and doing big but weak splashes. Kendra pushed to water in focused waves, hitting Seth head on more, though he dodged more than she did.

She ducked under water after a few minutes, when the fight was slowing, yanking Seth under water.

The fight began anew, Seth and her wrestling in the water until they were both tired.

“I definitely won,” Seth said.

Kendra rolled her eyes.

The two of them played some games with the sinking toys, racing for them and seeing who could get the most. Then they tried different dives into the deep end.

Kendra was the best at the clean dives, making only a small splash. Seth was great at doing big splashes though.

Kendra grew bored after a bit, getting out of the pool to rest on the edge.

Seth had her judge his dives.

“Watch this can opener!” He yelled as he jumped with one leg straight and the other bent.

“Eight and a half,” Kendra called back when he surfaced.

“That was definitely a nine,” he said as he swam back to the edge to jump again.

“You bent your leg when you hit the water,” she countered.

“Oh, come on!”

Kendra grinned, standing to grab her towel, but stopped when she saw the mirror.

Hummingbirds, bumblebees, and butterflies swirled in the air around the mirror. Several more butterflies and a couple of large dragonflies were actually sitting on the mirror face.

“Seth,” Kendra called quietly. “Come look at this.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Seth sighed, walking around to reach Kendra and doing a double take at the insects and birds around the mirror.

“What’s up with them? They’re acting like the fairies from Grandpa’s stories.”

“I’m not sure,” Kendra said. “Do insects like mirrors?”

“Ones that are secretly fairies do,” Seth joked.

Kendra rolled her eyes, “This isn’t Grandpa’s fairytales, Seth, what are they doing?”

“Admiring their lovely wings?”

“Well they are pretty wings.”

They stared for a moment.

“I dare you to grab the mirror,” Kendra said.

“Sure.”

He moved forward carefully, before snatching up the mirror and bolting to the pool, diving in.

Some of the insects and birds scattered, but most drifted after him for a moment.

“How strange,” Kendra muttered before shaking her head. “Seth, get the mirror out of the pool, the chemicals will ruin it!”

“Chill, it’s fine,” he said, stroking over to the side.

“Here, let me see it,” Kendra took the mirror from him and wiped it dry with her towel. It didn’t seem damaged.

She paused, eyeing the assorted insects around the pool.

“Want to try something?” Kendra said as she placed the mirror face up on a lounge chair and backed away.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Seth asked.

“We’ll see.”

Kendra and Seth sat down at the table, not too far away from the lounge chair. Kendra sipped her water as they watched a hummingbird glide over to the mirror. Soon it was joined by a few butterflies, and then some bumblebees, and then some dragonflies.

“Go turn the mirror face down,” Kendra suggested. “I wanna see if they like their reflections or the mirror itself.”

Seth crept forward slowly, the animals taking no notice of his approach. He reached forward carefully, then quickly flipped the mirror and bolted back to the table.

The ones that had landed on the mirror took flight when it was overturned, but only a few of the creatures flew away. A pair of butterflies and a dragonfly landed on the lounge chair at the edge of the mirror.

Kendra gasped as they took flight and flipped the mirror over, nearly sliding it off the chair in the process.

“Is that even possible?” Kendra muttered.

“That was so weird,” Seth agreed as the swarm pressed close to the mirror again.

“How are they strong enough to lift it?”

“There were a few of them,” Seth pointed out. “Want me to flip it again?”

“No, it might break… I don’t think butterflies are strong enough to flip that, it’s too heavy.”

“I dunno,” Seth said, draping his towel over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Take the mirror with you?”

“Sure, but if I get stung I’m telling Grandpa it was your fault.”

Seth moved to towards the mirror slowly, then snatched it up and rushed to the path back to the house. Part of the swarm drifted after him but didn’t follow far before scattering.

Kendra stared after them for a moment, frowning as she tried to figure out what was up with them. Seth was right, it really did remind her of the stories Grandpa told them about fairies.

How strange.

Kendra sighed and wrapped her towel around her waist, grabbing the sunblock and her water. She headed back to the house.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Kendra found Seth dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved camo shirt. He was checking through the cereal box that served as his emergency kit.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking if I need anything else,” he said innocently.

“How about some water?” Kendra said, eyes narrowed.

Seth brightened, “Good idea! I’ll grab some on my way out.”

He scooped up the kit and headed to the door.

“Where are you going?”

Seth paused, sending her a sly smile, “Promise you won’t tell?”

She huffed, “You’re going into the woods.”

He shrugged, “Wanna come?”

“You heard Grandpa, there are ticks in there, you’ll get Lyme disease.”

“Ticks are everywhere, so’s poison ivy. If people let possible dangers stop them then no one would ever go anywhere.”

“Grandpa will be mad, you’ll get in trouble.”

“Grandpa isn’t here. As long as you don’t tell, nobody will know.”

Kendra frowned, “Grandpa has been really nice. He didn’t want to have us here, but he opened his home to us. We should follow his rules, he only gave us like three of them.”

Seth rolled his eyes, “There’s no adventure in the garden.”

“Have you explored the whole yard yet?”

“How about this. If I don’t find anything interesting or weird or anything like that in the woods today, I’ll spend the next week only in the yard.”

Kendra considered, that sounded fair. What were the chances the forest had much in it?

“Grandpa’s livestock or whatever he has here doesn’t count.”

“Sure, but if I find a satyr or evil witch in the woods-“

“If you find an evil witch in the woods I’m not letting you back in the woods or you’ll get cursed.”

“But then how is Kendra the fairy princess gonna save me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes.

“Fight me.”

He laughed, “It’ll be fine, are you coming?”

Kendra hesitated, it did sound interesting but…

“No, not this time.”

“Will you tell on me?”

“If they ask I won’t lie.”

“I won’t be long,” Seth promised, hurrying out of the room.

Kendra sighed and stared around the room for a moment, what was there to do?

Oh yeah, she’d almost forgotten.

Kendra hurried to the nightstand, the mirror was resting on it. Beside the mirror was the key ring Grandpa had given her.

She’d already figured out what the biggest key opened, a jewelry box on the dresser that was full of costume jewelry, and a few pieces that looked real.

There were some fake necklaces and earrings and pendants and rings and bracelets, but also some that looked real. She was pretty sure the hair clip was real silver, and the bracelet looked like real rubies. She’d put them all back in the jewelry box, not sure if they were allowed to use it despite what Grandpa had said.

Did he mean for her to keep them in giving her the keys? Or was there a different purpose?

She wasn’t sure.

There had also been gold wrapped chocolates, only three of them, she’d had one and it was undoubtably the best chocolate she’d ever had.

She decided to check out the rest of the room for more key holes. She had two more keys, both smaller than the first. The smallest was no longer than a thumbtack. Where would she find such tiny keyholes?

The night before she’d tried all the drawers and toy chest, but none were small enough, and most unlocked anyways.

Her eyes scanned the room, trying to figure out what might have a small enough keyhole. They landed on the Victorian dollhouse.

Of course, if anything would have tiny keyholes, it would be a tiny house.

She unlatched the clasps of the house and opened it, revealing three stories and many rooms full of miniature furniture. Five doll people lived in the house—a father, a mother, a son, a daughter, and a baby.

The detail was incredible, the dolls had individual hairs on their heads and the clothing had patterns. The rooms themselves had just as much detail, with the beds having quilts, blankets, sheets, and pillows, and the couches having removable cushions. The bathtub even had movable knobs and the sinks had tiny cosmetic supplies on them.

The dollhouse’s master bedroom had an intricate armoire, with a large keyhole in the center, or well, large for the size of it.

Kendra inserted the tiniest key and turned it, smiling when the doors sprung open.

Inside were more of the gold wrapped chocolates, along with a small golden key. It was larger than the one that opened the armoire, but smaller than the one that opened the jewelry box.

Kendra carefully tucked the two wrapped chocolates away, they were two good to eat all at once.

She checked the rest of the tiny house, under every couch, bed, and carpet, behind every painting and dresser, in every closet and cabinet, but there were no more keyholes.

She closed up the dollhouse once more, determined to play with it later, this really was the dream dollhouse, she wished she’d had one at home.

Looking around the room, Kendra debated what to check next. There was one key left of the originals, plus the new one… was there a key in the jewelry box too?

She went back over to it, shifting through the real and fake jewelry to see. On a charm bracelet she found another little golden key, about the size of the one she’d found in the armoire. She took it off the bracelet and slipped it onto the keyring.

So that’s two new keys, and one of the originals.

She looked around again. Kendra had already checked all the dressers and toy chests and wardrobes (they were filled with fascinating stuff, the wardrobes had some of the softest fur coats and scarves and gloves she was jealous) but she could always double check. It was possible a key hole could be behind something, or under something, but she didn’t think it would be that crazy, the first two weren’t.

She decided to check the telescope, it seemed reasonable enough with all the knobs and different sections.

A thorough check later led her to be sure that there were no key holes.

Maybe she could see Seth through it though.

She opened the window, noticing Dale walking along the lawn at the outskirts of the woods. Kendra thought that he was out doing chores, why was he at the yard?

He stooped, putting something that he’d been carrying behind a low hedge, making her unable to see it. He set off at a brisk pace, glancing around as if worried someone would see.

Kendra considered for a moment, that seemed strange, but not bad. Her curiosity got the best of her though and she headed down the stairs.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Reaching outside, Dale was nowhere in sight. She headed over to the low hedge beneath the attic window, weaving through the beautiful gardens and past a few lovely fountains.

The hedge was about six feet before the edge of the forest and laying on the ground just behind it was a large pie tin full of milk.

Kendra crouched down, staring in fascination at the assorted animals hovering around it and drinking the milk.

An iridescent hummingbird hung suspended over the pie tin, along with several butterflies. One swooped down and splashed in the milk, before fluttering back up.

The hummingbird flew away after a moment and a dragonfly approached.

All the animals were very pretty. The butterflies wings the brightest colors and the dragonflies large and almost sparkling in the light.

“You’re all so pretty,” she murmured to the winged animals. “But why are you all drinking the milk?”

She gasped as a butterfly landed on her hand, wings fluttering delicately.

“Hello,” she whispered, staying still so as not to scare it away.

It’s wings fluttered, and after a moment it drifted back into the air.

She glanced back at the pie tin, surprised by how much the milk level had fallen.

Who knew that butterflies, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and bees liked milk?

She carefully straightened, grinning at the winged animals that drifted around her.

“I’ve got to go, enjoy your milk.”

She walked back towards the house, then paused partway. She studied the attic window for a moment. The house was pretty big, but the attic was fairly long.

Studying the window, she visualized the room. It only took up half the space that should be there.

She walked around to the opposite side of the house, distracted slightly by the many beautiful flowers, and the assorted fruit trees that dotted the lawn.

Arriving on the far side, she studied the top of the house. There were another set of attic windows, window that the room Seth and she were staying in couldn’t see. So, there was another side to the attic.

Maybe there was a secret passage to it in the playroom! Maybe that’s what the keys were for.

She was just about to head back to the attic to check when she noticed Dale coming from the barn with another pie tin.

She could always check the attic later.

She hurried over to Dale, frowning when he suddenly looked uncomfortable.

He pasted a smile on his face as she reached him, “Hey Kendra.”

“Hi, what are you doing?”

“Just taking some milk to the house,” he said, changing direction to head towards the house. He had been heading towards the woods.

“Why’s it in a pie tin? And why’d you leave the other tin behind the hedge?”

“Hedge?” he said innocently, looking incredibly guilty.

“There were a lot of butterflies there, drinking it.”

Dale stopped, studying Kendra intently. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

He glanced around as if there were spies nearby. “We have a few milking cows, and they make a lot of milk. We sell some of it, and use some, but there’s a bit excess. I put it out for the insects, seems to make them happy.”

“Why’s it a secret?” Kendra asked.

“Well, I never really asked if it was alright. Your grandfather might not be happy about me doing it when I could be trying to sell it.”

“It seems nice,” Kendra offered. “The animals seemed to like it.”

He nodded, “Yeah, they seem happy with it.”

“So you weren’t taking that tin to the house.”

He coughed, “No, no. This milk hasn’t been pasteurized. It’s full of bacteria, you could catch all sorts of diseases. People should not drink it, but the insects seem to like it best like this. You’ll keep my secret?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” he winked at her.

“Where are you putting that one?”

“Over there,” he jerked his chin towards the woods. “I set a few on the border of the yard every day.”

“Does it go bad? Or attract anything dangerous?”

“I don’t leave it out long. And some days they’re empty when I collect the pans, haha, they’re thirsty little critters.”

Kendra nodded, “Cool.”

“I’d best get back to work, I’ll see you around Kendra.”

“Yeah, see you later.”

She turned to head back inside.

“Oh yeah, you seen your brother around?” Dale asked.

“I think he’s in the house,” Kendra said. “He wanted some water last I checked.”

“Kay, just checking.”

Kendra waved, heading back in the house.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to reblog and leave a review, they feed my soul.

lmk if you’d like to be tagged.

#fablehaven #dragonwatch #fh #dw #fhdw #kendra sorenson #seth sorenson #fh fanfic #fh fanfiction #fablehaven fanfic #fablehaven fanfiction #fablekingdom ch 3 #fablekingdom ch. 3 #FK ch 3 #grandpa sorenson #Dale Burgess #fh dale #fablekingdom

9 notes · View notes

hostilebutcuddly · 3 years

Text

Lan Fan at the End of the World

[Verse: Kingdom Hearts]

She'd been fighting for so long. Minutes that felt like hours. Hours that felt like days. Still the onslaught continued as the dark creatures poured forth seemingly without end. The mask she'd carved and painted with her own hands lay shattered in some overrun hallway. Her hair was unbound and unkempt, a sign that she'd been taken completely by surprise. One arm hung limply at her side, now useless against the enemies she face.

But she continued on. Tanto in one hand, kunai clench in her gritted teeth.

Everyone around her had long since fallen. Their bodies consumed by the flood of writhing black shadows. All except for that one person she couldn't find. Not in the throne room nor the safety chamber the elders surely would have tried to usher him to when this ambush began. No hallway unchecked. Maybe the flood had take him too, and like a fool she hadn't been there. The one thing she had to do. The one person she'd pledged her life to protect. Lan Fan didn't deserve to continue on. She didn't deserve to rest either. So this was all she had.

A neo shadow rushed in on her side and she was only just able to dodge the incoming blow. Lan Fan took a glance and dully realized her limp arm was gone. She didn't cry out, or even try to bind the stub that was left. She'd lost feeling in that limb hours ago. But she knew there wasn't much time left for her now.

And then the big shadow appeared, and she knew this was the end.

Lan Fan closed her eyes just long enough to take a final deep breath. She dropped her tanto blade and kunai, pulling out instead every explosive she had available to her. Starting with the flash bombs that would pave the way for her final assault. If this was the end, at least she could say she tried.

Blinding lights sent living shadows scurrying away in surprised fear, making it easier to target the biggest of them with what strength she had left. Better be sure to aim somewhere other than the gaping heart shaped hole in it's chest. She threw high, the blast from her hand held bomb hitting it square in the face. The thing staggered, stepped back and-

It's massive hand came down at her, ready to destroy her with the full weight of a crushing blow. Despite herself Lan Fan held her breath and shut her eyes, waiting for the impact.

It didn't come.

Heart racing, Lan Fan's eyes snapped open and she turned her gaze in all directions with a frantic desperation. Nothing was moving. The remains of her explosion stood still as a painting around the creature's giant head. The creature itself was frozen, it's hand mere inches from her head. She darted out from under it quickly and continued to stare. All the shadows seemed to have become still as statues.

From behind her; Lan Fan heard a voice.

“This world is done for you know.”

She almost made herself dizzy with how fast she spun to face the stranger, qi senses snapping onto the massive signature despite all the muddled darkness still choking the entire world. The woman before her had pale blue skin and black hair. She was clad in a purple dress and here eyes were like burning gold. She moved closer and somehow she was solid and smokey and underwater all at the same time. The woman leaned in towards Lan Fan and the girl felt awkward and intimidated. What was going on?

“W-Who are you. Did you do this?” She finally found her voice. But the woman shook her head, only looking amused.

“Me? No. I don't command them, there's no fun in that. I'm just here to bear witness to the chaos.” Her silky voice sounded like it hid a thousand daggers. She continued. “But this is much better than I was expecting.”

“What do you mean” Now without the constant attack Lan Fan began to feel the weight of her injuries just a bit, her words heavy and difficult. The stranger shook her head.

“Oh no we can't have that. Not when things are getting so interesting.” She said, watching the girl slowly sink to her knees.

“Who are you.” She said once more. “What are you even talking about.”

The woman grinned. “Oh yes of course. I am Eris! Goddess of discord. And I've come to watch these little chaos entities. Or that was what I came for originally. But now; oh! It's too good! A missing Prince, a desperate young lady, sworn to protect him! What will happen? I'm on the edge of my seat and-” She paused. “Oh yes. And. You're on the verge of death, with no hope at all of finding out what you want to know.”

Brown eyes narrowed as she listened to Eris' words. “They're all gone. What do I have left to find out?” She asked.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Something stirred in the background and Eris's self satisfied smile got a little wider.

“You mean...” She didn't want to believe it, but she knew there was a chance. She knew someone like him wouldn't go down so easily. She thought she knew, anyway.

“So here's my proposal.” Eris shifted to a new position, just over the girl's shoulder, leaning against her in a too familiar sort of way. “I've seen what you're capable of. You're quite the warrior and your stealth skills are incredibly useful.” She cooed “So I'll save your life, get that... little missing limb problem solved. And you come work for me. Do whatever I need you to do and in the mean time” She leaned in a little more, her voice low and tempting “You can go to other worlds and look for your lost little prince.”

“Why would I-” Lan Fan started but Eris inturrupted her, gesturing toward the slow increase of movement around them.

“Ah ahh” Eris waggled a finger at the girl. “Time's running out; my little falconette. This world is finished... but you don't have to be.”

Could it be possible? What did 'go to other worlds' even mean? Lan Fan wanted to consider this fully, but Eris was right. The beasts were starting to stir and she didn't want to die waiting. And that was it wasn't it? She didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this. Not if there were even the slightest chance.

She took a deep breath, barely noticing the tears streaking down her face as she sat slumped on the ground, legs splayed out on either side of her trembling, weak body.

“...Okay.” Lan Fan agreed at last. “You save my life and let me search; and I'll devote the rest of that life to serving you.”

“It's a promise then.” Eris said, making an X over her heart with her finger. The mark glowing for a moment and then fading away. “And a goddess is bound to keep her word, no matter what.” She took a look around with a short chuckle and raised her hands, surrounding the two of them in a dark bubble.

“Now let's get out of here while you're still breathing.”

Lan Fan woke in a strange bed, in what appeared to be a stone room half eaten by a vast and every shifting desert made of black sand. She began to sit up but searing pain put her right back down and she cast her gaze about, seeing Eris appear in her strange flowing motion once again.

“I granted you a portion of my power.” The woman said, crossing her arms “It healed you up well enough but couldn't regrow what the heartless took from you. So I had to stop over at a neighboring world and get something set up for you there.”

Upon this comment Lan Fan's gaze turned to her side and she lifted what was now a metal, mechanical arm. It felt heavier than anything she was used to but... she could feel it. That alone stunned her out of any words she'd been trying to come up with. Her voice returned to her when her gaze turned to the bedside mirror and what stared back was a pair of once-brown eyes now turned a dull reddish violet.

“Wait... your power?” She finally asked.

“Yes that's right. You needed to be able to do important job related things like opening corridors of darkness and surviving inside such corridors. And of course some aspects of your employment will have you fighting those creatures and others like them. So you need the extra power for that too. Did you know it usually takes years to rehabilitate after that kind of prosthetic is installed?”

Lan Fan attempted to sit up again, with a bit more success “Y-Years? But-”

“Yes for normal people that would be quite the trial. But I need you up and about faster than that so faster healing was an important ability for you to have. Should prevent you from losing any more limbs, for that matter.”

Processing everything that had happened was almost overwhelming, but Eris was right, and Lan Fan could already feel her body adjusting to the weight of the metal. “And our agreement?”

“Yes this is all part of the deal. You wouldn't be able to search for your missing royal if you were laid up for three years either.” Eris waved a hand but it was obvious she wanted to know how this story was going to play out. As if Lan Fan were a character in a mythological epic.

She looked around one more time, wanting to ask about the room and the endless desert. Eris picked up on it almost too quickly. She'd had guests before after all.

“Oh yes welcome to tartarus. My realm of chaos. The black sand is actually a new feature, courtesy of one of my other 'henchmen'.” She added air quotes to the word, as if the woman couldn't think of something better to call them. “He's off doing other things right now though.”

Was this to be her home now? An ever shifting wasteland of sand and decay? Eris seemed to understand her question before she'd even given it a voice.

“You're welcome to say wherever you want.” She said “Just as long as you come back here when I call you. And I will call you.” She produced from... somewhere, a small device Lan Fan had never seen before, laying the object on the bed next to the girl and then rolling her eyes at the clear look of confusion.

“It's called a gummi phone. It's a way for me to keep in contact with you. You can figure out how to use it on your own time.”

And with that she was gone, leaving Lan Fan with more questions than answers. What had she said before? Corridors of darkness? The girl shifted her wait and hung her legs over the side of the bed with a sigh.

“I've got nothing but time for now I guess.” She said mostly to herself. “May as well see what I can do...”

#out of loyalty #nobodie's ninja #princecfnothing #drabble #wow that took a lot out of me #xD

2 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Day 8 - Discord

What a note to end on, sheesh...Hope everyone’s enjoyed these little pieces. The notes and comments helped keep me sane this week. I’d like to do some of the December prompts, and I will probably have at least one, but I also want to make some progress on the bigger projects, so it’ll probably be spotty. A week is easy to commit to, a month (a very busy month) is a little harder, so we’ll see.

“But...but Luka,” Rose’s hands flew to cover her mouth. “You can’t quit the band! You can’t do that to us!”

“I’m not quitting,” Luka said calmly, shrugging. “I’m not doing anything to you. I’m just telling you, I won’t play with her.”

The other members of Kitty Section stared at him incredulously. He looked back impassively.

“Luka,” Marinette said quietly from his elbow, tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t do this, it’s not worth it.”

“Yes, it is,” Luka replied, the slightest bit of an edge coming into his tone. “You’re worth it.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” Marinette began, and he made a sharp gesture, cutting her off.

“You’re not. I am.” He looked at his sister. “I won’t do it, Jules. She’s a liar and a manipulator and I won’t play with her. So you guys enjoy your rehearsal. I’m sure she won’t have any trouble getting you a replacement. Jules can play lead until then. You’ll miss having a bass, but like I said, someone with Lila’s connections should be able to get you a replacement pretty quickly.”

“But we have gigs already lined up!” Juleka cried, and Luka flinched, but he didn’t back down.

“I can play them with you, or you can have her and play them without me,” he repeated.

“I can’t believe you’re being so selfish.” Juleka stamped her foot, head down, staring at the deck with her fists clenched like she was a little girl again. “We all want Lila to be part of the band.” She gestured at the rest of Kitty Section, who all looked uncomfortable but were all nodding along.

“Okay,” Luka said, turning away. “Then it’s decided. Lila’s in, and I’m out. Come on, Marinette, I’ll walk you home.”

“Marinette!” Juleka cried, and Marinette’s shoulders hunched in. “What did you tell him? You can’t have both of them, you have to make up your mind! You can’t be mad that Lila likes Adrien and then be jealous that she’s spending time with Luka.”

“She’s not spending time with me,” Luka interjected coldly, his back still to them. “Ever. And Marinette hasn’t said a word. I have ears and eyes of my own. Here you’re all fighting for her, and where is she? She says she wants to join the band but she doesn’t even come to practice. I’ve met her type before, long on promises and short on delivery.” He half turned to look Juleka in the eye. “So have you.”

Juleka went pale, and Luka turned away again. “Have a good practice,” he said, putting arm around Marinette’s shoulders and propelling her along with him toward the gangplank.

Marinette wasn’t sure he actually breathed again until they were off the boat. “You didn’t have to do that,” she ventured. “You love being in Kitty Section.”

Luka shrugged one shoulder, his face still hard. “I did, but I can find another band. I’m not playing with that--” he started to say snake but changed his mind, “--liar, after what she did to you. I don’t care if Juleka believes in her bullshit disease story, which is ridiculous by the way. Even if she didn’t do what she did on purpose, which I don’t believe for a minute, she’s clearly not somebody we can trust. I’m not interested in making music that isn’t sincere or authentic. ”

Marinette sighed. “Luka, please say you aren’t doing this just because of me. You’re losing your friends and damaging your relationship with your sister for what? Not for me, Luka.”

Luka turned and took hold of her shoulders. “Yes, for you. You’re worth it, and you’re right. I’m not going to stand there and watch Juleka get played and do nothing. Do you really believe that Lila has any desire--or ability, for that matter--to play with Kitty Section?”

Marinette bit her lip, and shook her head.

“Neither do I,” Luka said, releasing her shoulders and taking her hand as they started walking again. “If she had, she’d have shown up for practice. Juleka didn’t bring it up to me until this week but I’ve heard her on the phone, I know she’s invited Lila before, and every time there’s an excuse why she can’t come. If she really wanted to play she would make a commitment to practice, and if she can’t do it, then she can’t be in the band anyway. We can’t play if we can’t rehearse, it’s why Adrien can’t be part of the band. Why would we give his spot to someone else with the same problem?” He shook his head. “I’m getting off track; there’s no point in laying out the logical reasons why she can’t be part of the band. I wouldn’t play with her if she came to practice religiously, and played better than Jagged. I won’t play with someone who’s hurting you, and don’t tell me she’s not.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand,” Marinette said, turning huge eyes up at him. “You don’t have anything but my word--”

Luka looked back at her with a soft expression and squeezed her hands. “That’s all I need.” He sighed. “It should be all Juleka needs, too. I thought she was smarter than this.”

“Lila says she tells people what they want to hear,” Marinette replied listlessly.

“And she probably moves often enough that by the time her lies collapse around her, she’s gone,” Luka mused. “I don’t really understand why she targeted Kitty Section, though. I mean, promising to get meetings with producers and all that, I understand, but why claim she wants to be part of the band? What does she get out of it?”

“Probably this,” Marinette shrugged. “Or, I don’t know. She knows you’re important to me. Maybe she was hoping to get to you somehow, and since you’re not in school with us, this was the easiest way to do it. She said I would lose all my friends, after all, not just the ones I have class with.”

Luka stopped dead, looking at her. “Come again? She said what?”

Marinette shrank away slightly, but he still had a firm hold on her hand. “She said I was either with her or against her, and if I was against her that I would lose all my friends and end up all alone.”

Luka’s mouth pressed into a firm line.

“S-so, you know,” Marinette shrugged. “This way, either she gets to you and gets under your skin just like everybody else, or else this happens,” she gestured vaguely back toward the boat. “And she can cry to everyone in class how I turned you against her and made Juleka choose between you and Lila, and would a good friend really do that?” Marinette sighed. “She’s a master at causing chaos and arguments. And she’s so insidious about it. She never outright says anything mean--not unless she’s got her target alone--she just implies.”

Luka snorted. “She just tosses the golden apple and then laughs while Troy burns.”

Marinette gave him a surprised look, and Luka blushed. “We’re doing a mythology unit right now,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s true, though.” He tugged her hand lightly to start them walking again. “I’ll talk to Juleka, but I don’t know if she’ll listen. I’ll try to at least make her understand that I make my own decisions and--well, I can’t truthfully say it doesn’t have anything to do with you, but you didn’t convince me to do anything. It’s the best I can do.” He looked at her sympathetically. “I’m sorry if this causes you more trouble with your friends.”

Marinette looked up at him and then leaned into his arm, hugging it with her free hand. “I”m sorry this is happening, and I wish it wasn’t causing trouble between you and Juleka, I know how close you are. But...it feels nice to see someone else stand up to her. And if I’m going to get in trouble for it anyway, I might as well say that you’re right, she’s a liar and a sn--” she changed her mind too, “S-sleaze,” she stumbled, and Luka grinned. “And it’s about time someone called her on her crap. I didn’t want you anywhere near her and I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you believe me.”

Luka squeezed her hand and leaned down and kissed the top of her head lightly, making her blush. “Well, I wish I could do more, but I think pretty much everybody knows at this point that I’m not exactly unbiased when it comes to you, so it’s not hard to write off my opinion. At least we can be in this together.”

#lukanette-monthweek2019 #lukanette-monthweek2k19 #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #shortfic #quickspins #a little bit of warmth

82 notes · View notes

autumnpleaves · 4 years

Note

can you tell me about your friends? -C (you dont have to)

Ooh! Sure, C! No problem! Hmm, since it doesn’t really specify which ‘friends’ you’re talking about, I’m going to talk about IRL and online ones! XD

This is gonna be a long one, but only because I love, appreciate, and care for my friends :)

So let’s start with my...

IRL friends ^-^

I won’t be using their ‘real names’ so... meh.

First up we have Eggen! :)

She’s such a joy to be around (no this is not sarcastic). She has this weird fluctuating emotions sometimes and it’s scary to deal with (but not as scary as Jessie-). Funny story about how we actually met was that we had this conjoining class in Ext. Maths and she was from another class. I was still a new student then, so I wasn’t really familiar with anyone and my friends from *my* class were in Ext. Maths too, and were friends with Eggen, hence we all had this weird group thingy at one portion of the classroom and we hung out together.

Now see, here, we weren’t really *friends* then. More like acquaintances XD

BUT-

I texted her because I saw in her profile, that she was a *HUFFLEPUFF* (which is different now, because it didn’t fit anymore- She’s a slytherin now :)) and I texted her saying “OH MY GOSH! YOU’RE A HUFFLEPUFF TOO?!!” I was a dork. It was stupid. And she replied “Haha, yeah...” and lemme tell you, I’m surprised why she’s still my friend to this day XD

She’s improved a lot since then, and I am honestly quite frankly really *really* proud of her. She’s grown a lot (literally, coz she’s short and metaphorically, coz she’s so talented and skilled and smart now! [Not that she wasn’t smart before, just saying, definitely you can see progress]) She’s talented in drawing, ballet, has great ideas, really hard working, productive, one of the most inspirational person I know :) I’m glad to call her my friend :D

(Only I get to call her Eggen though 0-0 ANyONe else who dares, will get a smack from me-) ALSO did I mention she likes to torture people by throwing her erasers at them? It’s funnnn memories :’)

Next up we haveeeee Lizze!!

Lizze now this one, I didn’t meet until like... at least a year after Eggen. Honestly. Don’t judge me, our school is biiggggggg. She had long hair then. At first I see her here and there, and it was pretty chill. Nothing too... ya know- friendsy just like oh yeah I recognize you. We were in the same scholarship program! So that was fun! :)

We didn’t officially properly meet until like a year after though, and well let’s just say it was fun. She’s one of the only friends I was able to rope into watching Sanders Sides with me and is also a huge geek nerd XD She’s ALSO REALLY REALLY HECKING TALENTED IN WRITING?! LIke WHAT?! WHo even?!

Yeah, such a great friend. She’s one of the people I go to when in need of any writing advice, or just advice in general! She really gives that second opinion and really takes things into account and I’m really just plain glad to call her my friend. I love her so much and like we would discuss and hang out sometimes on VC late into the night and it’d be funny watching her trying to navigate around her messy room :’) Ahh! Fun times XD

Then we have... NICO!! :)

Nico... was my first ever friend. Literally. In the new school. I’m gonna lay down the scenario XD

I walked into class on orientation day, not aa lot of students were there yet, I was early (for once). Nico was sitting on the left side of a table (we had two student tables) two rows from the back, near the windows. I walked in and was like Hm. Where should I sit? So I Decided that I wasn’t gonna be a wimp and decided to walk and sit next to Nico. He was also surprisingly a new student, so we kinda like related for a bit XD

Flashforward and Nico is one of my close friends? I mean he’s there and he’s fun to hang out with XD (I don’t do labels, sorry XD) We would joke around, play around, and he’s just a great fella all around! It’s just sometimes people might make fun of him and he’d get insecure sometimes, which makes me sad and yeah! Favorite memories with him would always be in Ext. Math. We’ve landed in the same class (coz we switch around every year) like twice and everytime it’d be the same! And well every time in Math I would ‘show off’ my amazing math skills and he’d try to compete with me. It was fun every time. *dreamy sigh*

I miss the competitions really. We’d compete to see who would finish first, who would do what part, and when either of us are confused we would annoy the other to get the answer XD I miss him :’)

Then we get... JILL! :D

Jill was another friend I met in my first year at the school. At first, she used to hang out with this other friend because they were stuck to each other since like primary, but slowly they drifted (which in my opinion might be for the best 😬)

She’s an otaku. A pure bred otaku. I had to deal with her anime fanatic years for like... 3 years and counting now. Why. But she’s wonderful and drawing and would always have this bad habit of drawing on anything and literally whatever surface she finds. The desk, her notebooks, her test papers, her *SKIN*, *MY* skin, her WATER BOTTLE (like what THE HECK- JILL?!) but like, it’s endearing XD

She’s great at complaining and hates hugs. She also hates mangoes- (If you remember what my catchphrase was? Yeah the, “GUESS WHAT? JILL HATES MANGOES” yeah it’s this Jill XD) I’m not joking. She’s great at complaining XD

Funny story is that once we had to do this video project thing and we just had Jill complain about the amount of homework we had to like compare stuff and what not, and she did it. IN ONE BREATH. NO HESITATIONS. NO SCRIPT. ONE TAKE. WE were all DYING after that XDDD Coz she’s literally known as a complainer and she has great logic skills. She also really LOVES money... so... i mean... yeah. She’s really like... conservative with her money but isn’t afraid to use it to spoil others, but not herself XD

Finally but not the last (I got more friends, but I don’t really... connect with them enough?) is BEEP! (no this is not her actual name, I just don’t really call her by her real name much)

The OG friend from first day of school! Nico? YEah Step ASIDE BRO! XDD This gal is my go-to cuddle buddy. LIterally. Our moms are kinda like... besties? (*shrugs* it’s complicated) so we kinda do a lot of things together XD We go to gym together, go to places together, road trip together. She’s a joy to be around. She is like the cuddliest and well usually she does get teased about for being fluffy but like that’s the best part about her 🥺. Her mom is also really picky about her appearance which as her friends, we were pretty annoyed by it, but I love her the way she is :)

First day of school and she walked by and asked to sit next to me. I said yes, without looking at her, coz I was *shy* (shush). Then we had an ice-breaker thing and LMAO guess what we bonded on-

FRICKING HARRY STYLES AND WATTPAD- (look, if you’ve been on wattpad, you’d know that Harry Styles stories on there is never really... safe. in a sense.) SO, we’d immediately bonded over that and literally the rest of the day was history. We’d go through class everyday together and it would be a blast, OF COURSE she had other friends and I had mine, we weren’t really in the same ‘stereotypical’ group (like she has the more... *mean girls* kinda group [I’M NOT SAYING SHE’S MEAN! But, I’m saying that they have the popular group- yeah there that XD])

I had my own group but we hang anyways because it’s fun. She has the most beautiful laugh, like... literally the loudest and beautiful-est laugh ever XD We have so many inside jokes. She’d hold on to them and start laughing randomly XD She cries a lot when she laughs so that always spurs us to continue laughing, gosh damn it, I miss her. I’m smiling so hard writing this.

XDD

Aight! That’s from my IRL friends!

Next we have my online friends! :DDD

First up, we have YAWN! :D

Yawn is quite frankly, the first person I ever actually connected to on Tumblr here XD

I’ve been through tens and hundreds of discord servers, jumped in tumblr group chats, and no where have I ever met anyone as wonderful as Yawn. Literally.

I would say we pretty much clicked and when *she* (look I asked okay. they said yes to all pronouns so- >:3 I’m going to have fun with it XD) expressed xeir love for PUNS of all things, literally, I was shooketh. SO I LITERALLY SPAMMED HIM WITH ALL THE PUNS I COULD THINK OF- ANd then HE LITErally PropOSEd- XDDD I don’t know man. It’s amazing :’) I don’t know how I got this lucky.

Yawn is like that refreshing giddiness you have as a child when you see a new toy or something. Yeah that’s Yawn. Literally every time we text it’s just so damn wholesome and so fun and it’s great! We’d talk about the most random things ever and it’d be amazing :))

Hhhhhhhhhhh, I’m just so damn proud of zem. LIke. Literally. Xir has come so far, and like... we haven’t really met for long yet but I just care about xir sooooooooooooooo much. It has always been there for me and I’m just so appreciative of it. We have so many- *WHEEZE* inside jokes- XDDD

One I can think of is literally “I run you, Shakespeare” and it’s HILARIou- XDDDDDDDDDDDD

I can’t- It’s beautiful XD

I just can’t believe that our friendship literally started with me just sucking up my anxiety and just texting people stuff and I honestly don’t know how it continued from there- XD

They are the most accepting person I know. Genuinely. I don’t know where I’d be without them :’)

Next we have... VOMMY! :DDD Or C-Gal... We gotta bring that nickname back XD

First of all, we met in a Fander Pride Meet Up server. VOmmy CAN SPEAK DUTCH and is SOO CREATIve and SO FRIckING Hard WOrking and such an inspiration. Always greets us and is always down for hugs and cuddles XD

Such a great tea friend, and has like the best aesthetic ever- literally. So old and vintage like a vintage mom and always down to talk about stuff! Ze is soooooo smart as well! And would infodump sometimes when ze’s not busy about stuff that I absolutely adore and love to hear about! Honestly the best vommy ever and ze has PLANTS like- *Woooooooooo!*

We met vommy and literally we can always geek out with zem. Sometimes life gets hard and we need to scream it out every now and then, and vommy would be there :)))

I am so proud of zem and just so damn happy to call zem my friend uwu

ALSO HAVE I MENTIONED THAT ZE CAN SING AND PLAY THE UKE AND WRITE SONGS LIKE WHAT THE HECK THAT’S EPIC AH

Then we haveeeeee... STARBURST! OR BOB THE BUILDER!

ANOTHER friendo we met in the Fander Pride Meet Up Server (seriously a lot of cool friendos there). One of the best advice givers and the most caring older sibling ever. Literally. Like I can’t stress this enough. He’s such a great cousin duck and just a great listener friendo ever.

Such a fricking talented writer and MUSICIAN AND FRICKING ARTIST LITERALLY THE WHOLE SHEBANG IT’s RIDICulOUS

I’m literally so proud of him. It’s crazy. He’s always been there for us, all of us. And is there to provide hugs and arms to cry on. ALSO HAVE I EVER MENTIONED HOW BEAUTIFUL HE IS??! LIKE WHAT THE HECK- AHhhhhHHHHHH

SO BEAUTIFUl- and PRETTY and GORGEOUS

Next we haveeeeeee- POPPY the POPTART! :D

First time we met in the Fander Pride Meetup, I may of may not have offended them. 0-0

woops.

I still feel really bad about that honestly. Uhhh, anyways, I won’t go too in depth on that. BUT ANYWAYS-

THEy Have been such a WONDERFUL presence in my life. LIterally. LIke They have such an cheerful vibe ever and would never fail to make me laugh or like coo or like anything coz they are soooo ADORABLE! They are also like really great cuddler and hugger and sooooo sooooo sooooo handsome :DD

Sure there are rough patches in their lives, but I adore them and am sooo sooo soo proud of them for being able to go through it and still come out with their heads high and just so damn happy that they will not give up that easily. I really admire their strength, and we are always there to support if they need help :)

Also, go check out @/poptartsaysurloved pinned post. See if anyone is willing or can help! :)

Next we have... ATLAS! Or LAssie as I like to call him XD

He’s one of the screaming cereal that I most definitely did not meet in the Fander Pride Meet Up and instead in another server and I’m glad to have met him XD

I don’t know the *exact* thing I texted him, but I definitely remember asking him about something in his status and I most definitely was satisfied with my answer and we just started talking in DMs for a bit, before I invited him in to the screaming cereal bowl server! :D

IT IS A BLAST

LITERALLY

ARSon kid can’t go a day without wanting to blow something up and frankly I’m concerned but such a great friendo

Provider of memes, jokes, laughs, hugs, cuddles, and fun time XD

I can’t even, it’s crack head moments every time with that lassie XD

AHHHHHHHHHHHH FINALLY but obviously not the LAST W E HAVE HEDGIE the ShellY HOGGLES

HONESTLY I LOVE THIS GURLY SOHECKING MUCH

She deals with my bull crap every day kind of and deals with a bunch of my mushy feelingsy moments! I can’t stress enough. Literally Shelly McScotty over here is like the most relatable person ever. Mood all the way and we have like SOO MANY SIMILAR INTERESTS

IT’s CRAZY! When I first found out that she watches like Unus Annus, Winx Club (SHOOSH IT’S A GOOD SHOW SHUSH) Literally, I’m like this is the best person ever. She’s also knowledgeable in a lot of stuff and is literally like the best person to go to when you need to get like informational stuff

Literally. I would info dump on her and she’d be such a great listener. Fricking Disney and Potterhead GEEK of the decade. HOly heck this lady is the literal embodiment of a disney princess. FIRST OF ALL, PERSONALITY IS THERE. SECOND OF ALL, HER LOOKS! HAVE YOU SEEN? LITERALLY SO DROP DEAD GORGEOUS ON FLEEK MAKEUP! AHHHHHh

I can’t get enough of this dude. Gives great advice and insight on soooo many things and I’m just so glad to have met this gurl. I don’t know how exactly we met, but I’m glad we did.

MIND YOU most of my friends are either from Tumblr or Discord so XD

AHHHHHHHHh

Welp! This was a fun! I definitely spent wayyyyyyyyy too long on this thing, but it’s worth it! XD

Hope you have fun learning about my friends from like a freaking geeking out stand point Canon! :D

I have a feeling you wouldn’t read through this entire thing, so well... AH! Hope you have a nice day and don’t sleep too late! Tell me about your friends as well! :))

#caps tw #caps #tw caps #anon stuff #anon #c-anon #canon #friends stuff #long post #I definitely did tag them in my Recs and Friends. And you'll see the occasional reblog or ask #answered stuff

4 notes · View notes

allxthingsxglxtter · 3 years

Text

Thomas finds out about Newt having the Flare and feelings are also discovered.

Discord thread between @lcnelylcves Newt and Thomas

Thomas:

Thomas felt like hell. He’d been the distraction for the job tonight, so it had started with insults and ended with a rather brutal fight with a few guys larger than he was. Which was why he was shirtless in his bed, trying to muster up the energy to take a shower or wash the blood from his lip. When the door to his room opened he grabbed his blanket and tried to hide in it. Especially when he realized it was Newt. “Hey.....I didn’t know you were around? Hi.” He closed his eyes, hoping with everything in him the other hadn’t seen.

Newt: When he wasn't trying to find a way to save himself that didn't involve Tommy sacrificing himself to strangers, Newt wanted to spend as much time as possible with Tommy. Just in case they didn't have much more time together. Letting himself into his apartment didn't seem like a big deal, they'd spent a lot of time at each other's places, so he walked straight into his room without hesitation. Until he saw the way Thomas tried to cover up. His mind went... well, his mind immediately jumped to something dirty, but the joke he was going to make got cut short when he realised why Thomas was hiding. "What the bloody hell, Tommy?" He rushed forward, tugging the blanket away. "What happened to you? Are you okay?" Something happening to Thomas was literally his worst nightmare.

Thomas: Fuck. Swear words were really all that could run through his head at that particular moment as Newt got worried. He hated worrying Newt, part of him thinking he wasn’t worth the concern. And Newt shouldn’t be upset. Ever. And now it was his fault cause he didn’t put on a shirt. With a sigh he let go of the blanket and lay back on his back, detangling so he could sit up. It was mostly just bruising, maybe a cracked rib, but nothing Thomas hadn’t dealt with before. The split lip and bruise on his jaw weren’t great, but he managed. “It’s alright Newt, really.” Forcing himself time sit up, he managed not to wince, looking at Newt. “It was just a work thing.”

Newt As gently as he could manage, Newt helped Thomas sit up. Definitely not the way he'd wanted to get his hands on a shirtless Tommy, but he needed to make sure he was okay. "It's not bloody alright." His fingers splayed carefully on his chest over one of the bruises for a second, but when he heard what his friend said next, his jaw clicked audibly at how tight he clenched it. Fuck. He couldn't lose his cool. "A work thing? What the fuck does that mean, Tommy?"

Thomas Thomas sighed, knowing this was likely about to go from worry to anger. Or at least irritation. “It is Newt. It’s fine. I’ll be back to normal in a couple days.” In different circumstances Thomas would be delighted the other was touching him like this, the closeness almost distracting until he heard Newt’s jaw. Shit. “It means what it sounds like Newt. I will...occasionally… Take jobs with a gang. I started before you came and I..well, it’s not really something you stop. And...i don’t necessarily want to...”. Thomas met his eyes, waiting for the reaction.

Newt: Even if the evidence of a fight would fade, it still made Newt feel awful now. "You take - you bloody shank!" Despite his efforts to be careful, his hand whacked into Tommy's shoulder. "You are damn well stopping that, goddammit. What the hell are you thinking, getting involved in a gang? This better not be some death wish of yours."

Thomas: Thomas swore when Newt hit him, looking up at him in surprise. That was slightly unexpected. However, he steeled his jaw a little, not wanting to argue it but here they were. “No I’m not Newt. It...I didn’t have anybody else, they needed somebody fast, and, well.” He smiled grimly before continuing. “It’s not a death wish. I usually do fine, it just ends violently sometimes. And it’s...it helped. Before, when you weren’t here yet.”

Newt: The guilt he felt at Thomas being alone was quickly overridden by the anger that never felt far from the surface these days. "I don't care what they needed, I care about you. You're not doing that again. I won't let you." The words were coming out too close to a growl, but he had forgotten about trying to hide his secret. All that mattered was protecting Thomas. "It'll be bloody violent if you go back to them. I'll make sure of that."

Thomas: "I know you care about me Newt. I do. But I make my own choices. You didn't have to know, and I'll be more careful going forward. I'll.." He paused, the growl in the other's voice enough for Thomas to know something was wrong. Newt didn't growl. "You'll do that will you? How do you intend to stop me? I get hurt all the time, and I'm alive. I've got a job next week and I'm going to do it Newt!" He was stubborn, but Thomas was now watching Newt's reaction. Something was wrong, and he really, really didn't want his suspicion to be right.

Newt: "Care about you?!" Love was a much better word, but he didn't use it, not while he felt angry enough to go out and kill any gang members he saw. And Thomas was only making him angrier. "No, you're not." He lost his cool completely, grabbing Tommy's shoulder and shoving it back, getting into his face. "I'll kill anyone who hurts you."

Thomas: "Yes, care about me...you just said you did..." Thomas wasn't sure why he was outraged at that one, but as Newt got worse and more aggressive the reality of what was happening hit him like a brick. His jaw flexed, hurt and anger in his own eyes now as he met the other's angry expression. His voice was soft as he spoke, not needing to rile him anymore at this point. "And how long did you intend to wait before you told me you are infected with the Flare Newt. Or did you plan not to at all." Newt: He didn't think he could talk without saying something he'd regret. But it was too late, the change in Tommy's voice alerted him to the problem. "Tommy..." Realising his fingers were still digging into Tommy's shoulder, he pulled back sharply, furious with himself now. "I - fuck!" He'd just hurt Thomas in his anger, of course he'd gotten caught out. "Don't turn this on me."

Thomas: "I suspected when you started growling, but I'm sorry for pushing you. I don't exactly mean to stop, but, I'm sorry I tried to provoke you." Thomas pushed his own hurt out of his mind, hating that Newt hadn't told him. But this wasn't about how he felt. Even if Newt's last statement pissed him off beyond belief. "Don't turn it on you? Okay, I won't acknowledge the fact you're allowing yourself to actively die when I've already told you I'm the cure for what ails you. And We can instead just discuss that working for gangs and getting in fights feels more like what I deserve than sitting in a classroom and learning about biology does. Fighting and running is all I know shit about at this point, and ...it's something familiar."

Newt: The anger flashed back into his eyes, but Newt did his best to keep his distance now. "You need to stop. If something happened to you..." The idea made him shudder, turning away from Thomas so he wouldn't feel tempted to hit something. "I'm not letting you hand yourself off to strangers to turn you into a science experiment. I'm looking for another way. My sister, she comes from another world, maybe there's something else that can heal me." He turned back, fixing Thomas with a glare. "Tommy, you deserve peace. That's all we ever wanted, and we can have it here. What would you do if it was me getting into fights? Alright, I do fight one shank in one gang, but that's a personal grudge."

Thomas: Thomas sighed, letting the other keep his distance and just watching him as they spoke. “If something happened to me it’d...well. Be unsurprising. Gang or no, I’m not likely to stay out of trouble for long anyways Newt.” Thomas shook his head, wanting to reassure Newt. “I wouldn’t be a science experiment. It’s in my blood, we already know that, and my siste Caitlin is a scientist, she’d definitely help. You don’t need another answer you already have me.” Thomas jaw flexed, looking away for a moment. “I’d get in the fights with you, cause no one messes with you. Except apparently one guy? And I...sure this place is peaceful, but I can’t have my rest without....well.” He’d been about to say “without you” but he suspected that would be too far,

Newt: While he knew Thomas was a magnet for trouble, it was different knowing he had sought it out. "It's no gang. Or I'm going to join it with you." If he couldn't convince him to stop, then he'd just go with him. "I've followed you into worse." While he knew that Thomas trusted this sister, Newt didn't. Teresa had been a plant. For a while, he'd thought maybe Annabeth was too, but she'd proven her story, but that didn't mean everyone could be trusted. "I'm not going to use you, Tommy. That's not happening, I'd rather die." Which looked like a possibility now, but that didn't need to be said. Both of them knew it. "You'd try to protect me, Tommy. That's what we do, we protect each other. Not that I need your help pushing Luke down stairs. He's with Exitium." Risking moving closer, Newt sat on the end of the bed. "Can't have your rest without getting beaten up? Look at you, Tommy. You're hurt."

Thomas: “No you’re not.” Thomas wouldn’t let that happen, the idea of Newt dealing with anything other than good in this second life he’d been afforded absolutely out of the question to Thomas. However, at the other’s next statement Thomas looked at the other in shock. “It’s not “using me” if I fucking volunteer for it Newt. I was able to save Brenda, and that wasn’t experimentation.” His jaw flexed, the idea he could lose Newt all over again and this time knowing he could save him was already destroying him just to think about. “I’d rather die than lose you again Newt.” He said it honestly, meaning every word. Being the only one to get a peaceful world and life at this point was torture when 90% of his friends deaths were his fault. “I can’t have peace and happiness and all the shit we’d hope to find without anyone to share it with Newt. I’m fine. It’s just a few bruises after all.”

Newt: "Yes I bloody am. You're not getting into fights without me, Tommy." That was simple for Newt, he couldn't let Thomas be in trouble unless he was there. "You'd volunteer for anything if you thought you'd save someone. And this isn't our world, so yeah, it's bloody experimenting. And I'm not letting you do it. There's another way, there has to be." He wished he had already found a way, but not yet. But he wouldn't give up. "Tommy, you could lose me any day. Not because of this, but because of any reason. You just need to find someone to share your life with. I'm sure you'll find a nice girl, you can do better than Teresa."

Thomas: Thomas wasn’t in the mood to argue this, his getting into fights so stupidly minuscule next to Newt dying. Again. Of the same fucking thing. “No, Newt, I wouldn’t. Not just anyone. And Caitlin is a doctor from the future, she can do it. You can’t stop me from doing it Newt. I finally have a chance to save your life and you’re going to take it away again?! This is a way. It’s simple, and easy, and something I’m sure she can do. And it’s blood. She doesn’t have to take a limb.” Which he would give if necessary, but that’s not the point. “Someone to....fuck you Newt. Are you that...daft?! I didn’t want to share my life with Teresa. Idiot. And yes, I could lose you any day, but that’s different than THIS. Something I can stop.”

Newt: Newt rolled his eyes at Thomas, since he didn't trust Caitlin but he didn't even need to use that argument. "Tommy, you might have noticed, we're not exactly in a place with good technology. I know you'd save me if you had to, but you don't have to. That's the last resort." He wouldn't let it get to that point. Unsure why Thomas swore at him, Newt frowned. "Fuck you too, Tommy. I don't exactly like girls, how would I know what you like? But if you need a wingman, fine. I can talk you up to anyone you like." It'd make him feel like actually killing himself again, but if it meant Tommy was happy, he could ignore his broken heart. Thomas: Thomas shook his head “that camp in the desert wasn’t a technological wonder either Newt, and they figured it out. It’s not a last resort, it’s the first one and will be what I’m doing this afternoon.” He hated this, every part of this conversation making him frustrated and angry, but he pushed on. “Because I’ve told you repeatedly I’d rather die than lose you again! That I stopped caring once you were gone. I don’t want to share my life with a girl dumbass I want to share it with you!”

Newt: "You're not going anywhere this afternoon. Look at you!" Newt hadn't exactly forgotten about the bruises on Tommy's chest, not when he could still see them. "You need to rest." Unsure if he was reading too much into the argument, Newt shifted closer. "Tommy... you can't say shit like that. It's not fair, you know how I feel about you." Everyone knew, or so Newt thought. He'd never exactly tried to hide it, he'd just never said the words because there was no reason to say something that would just make Thomas have to reject him.

Thomas: “I’m fine. It’s just some bruises, and I’ll clean out my lip. It’s fine.” Thomas knew this needed to be handled, not about to lose Newt again because there wasn’t enough time. “How you feel about me? You take care of me just like Minho and Gally and the rest. We’re friends. I can say shit like that because it’s true. I’ve...you’re the only one I’ve ever paid attention to like that Newt. And it’s not like we really had the luxury to do anything about it. Plus you didn’t ever like me like that, and I just..figured you didn’t notice, or didn’t want to.”

Newt: "It's not fine, you're not going anywhere." Newt wasn't budging on that, not about to let Thomas run off while injured to go make more bad decisions. Especially not when he was saying everything Newt had wished he'd say. "You bloody idiot. I love you. Not like I loved the rest of the Gladers. You were the one that didn't notice me. How much more obvious did I have to be?"

Thoams: “It’s fine in comparison to you dying again!” Thomas was trying not to shout, trying not to be broken and frustrated just thinking about losing Newt to the Flare again. He was pissed he even had to worry about it. “How am I the idiot? You treated me just like the others. And you took care of everybody. “ he looked at Newt seriously, unsure what it was they were saying to each other. “Are you..are you saying you’ve been in love with me the whole time?”

Newt: "I'm not going to die!" Newt knew he shouldn't promise that, but he didn't want Thomas to give up. Not when apparently they'd both been oblivious idiots. "You're the idiot because somehow you never noticed I was flirting with you. I figured you just weren't interested. Idiot. Yes, I'm in love with you. Everyone knows that."

Thomas “No, you’re not.” He knew Caitlin could make an antidote from his blood, the mystery taken out of what would cure it at least. It was hard to focus on that when Newt was saying all of this though. “I was a bit distracted. But why wouldn’t anyone tell me if they knew? And I figured you knew I was flirting with you. I was always more protective of you than the others.”

Newt: Newt fell back onto the bed with a groan. "I thought you were just being protective of me because of my bum leg. Thought you were straight, that you wouldn't flirt with me. This is bloody ridiculous, we've been pining this whole time and no one told us?"

Thomas: Thomas looked slightly offended. “Just because you have a limp doesn’t mean you didn’t prove yourself capable a thousand times over. I was protective of you cause ever since you smiled at me at the bonfire I’ve been smitten with you and I have been angry about it ever since. Why the hell would you pine after me? I’m an idiot. Have been from day one.”

Newt: Newt laughed at that. "You should have just said something instead of being angry about it. I was flirting with you that night, we could have saved a lot of trouble. And there's a lot more reasons to pine after you than there is to pine after me. I'm smarter than you, but I'm skinny."

Thomas: Thomas shook his head. “You were a little drunk and I thought you were into Alby. Pretty sure everyone was a little into Alby. But no there isn’t. You’re smart, and kind, and so so thoughtful. And I’m skinny too, so, that’s not really a reason.”

Newt: "When is being drunk a reason not to make out with a cute guy?" Newt's heart ached a little, remembering Alby. "Yeah, I liked him once. But nothing happened, we had to put the Gladers first. By the time you rocked up, I was mostly over it. I was completely over it when you ran into the maze." He moved so he could lie his arm next to Tommy's. "I'm even skinnier. And you're brave, forgiving, and when you're not being an idiot, you're smart."

Thomas: “I think when I was confused, and frustrated, and irritated I liked someone when there was so many other things to worry about.” Thomas sighed, holding Newts hand. “So? And I don’t know if forgiving is the right word. But no, I’ve never been smart.

Newt: "Alright, maybe making out might not have been the best idea but it would have been fun. And I might have been nicer to Teresa if I'd known you weren't interested in her." Smiling as he looked at their hands, Newt wasn't letting Tommy go any time soon. "Sure it is. You tried to save Teresa, and now I know that wasn't even because of a crush. And we never would have gotten out of the maze without you, you're the one who figured it out. So you're the smart one at puzzles."

Thomas: “Teresa didn’t deserve your kindness, at least not at that time. But she made up for it, in the end. And I wasn’t interested, but there was something there..likely from before the maze. So the jealousy wasn’t entirely unfounded. She did kiss me before she died.” He shrugged before looking over at him. “I tried to save people cause it was decent. And you only got out of the maze because they changed it when they sent me there. Definitely not points towards brains.”

Newt: Newt pulled a face, not pleased to hear that. The jealousy had always been something that made his anger worse. "That's bloody unfair, I didn't get a kiss before I died." He squeezed his hand. "I'm not decent, I woulda let a lot of them die, I only cared about the Gladers. And you can be smart, Tommy. You think quick on your feet, I think things over carefully. That's all."

Thomas: Thomas chuckled a little. “In my defense I was the one dying at that particular moment. No initiation from me, and you didn’t give me enough time to kiss you.” He squeezes his hand back; his jaw flexing just thinking about it. And now it was hanging over them both again. “Technically she was a Glader. And maybe. But smart is a stretch. You’re still the smart one. Why this is a discussion I don’t know.”

Newt: He hadn't meant to upset Thomas again. "Well, we'll try for a kiss when neither of us is in danger of dying, how about that?" Newt would happily lean over and kiss him now, but he wasn't sure Tommy wanted him to after the fight. "She wasn't a Glader, she was a plant. She betrayed us. And it's not a discussion because I'm right. If I'm smart, you just have to accept I know what I'm talking about."

Thomas: Thomas looked at him, hesitating just a moment before moving. His body was screaming at him, but that didn’t stop him from shifting up and kissing the other. He wasn’t willing to wait, though he’d back off if Newt shoved him away. Propping himself over Newt, he looked down at him. “Okay. I’m not gonna argue that with you. And...sorry. I..I couldn’t wait.”

Newt: Even if he was still pissed that Tommy was hurt, Newt wasn't going to complain that they'd finally kissed. He'd wanted that for a long time. "Don't be sorry, you stupid shank." He pulled him back down to kiss him again, only to hesitate. "You gotta tell me if I hurt you, alright? You look like shit."

Thomas: Thomas melted into the kiss, ignoring the ache in his chest at the movement. Flare or no, he was kissing Newt and for that little moment he was gonna enjoy something. “I said I’m alright Newt. I’ll let you know if it gets bad. Now kiss me and stop fussing.”

Newt: Newt laughed a little at Tommy's bossiness, raising an eyebrow. "What if I want to fuss over you?" He teased, kissing the corner of Tommy's mouth. "Maybe I like taking care of you, you ever think about that?"

Thomas: Thomas rolled his eyes a little at the other. “You shouldn’t.” Kissing the other again, he broke it and murmured. “And the thought had crossed my mind, but I figured taking care of me would just be endlessly frustrating.”

Newt: Gently, not wanting to hurt him, Newt brushed his fingers over Tommy's chest. "I don't mind being frustrated by you. Kinda used to it, really. Just get to kiss you to shut you up when you're being really stupid."

Thomas: Thomas shifted, laying back down next to Newt though he liked the feeling of Newts hands on him. “I likely won’t stop anytime soon, since frustrating seems to be a personality trait of mine. And you’re just gonna kiss me when I’m stupid? Well, that sounds like it’d be all the time.”

Newt: Newt rolled onto his side so he could keep looking at him. "I think I'll kiss you whenever you're being stupid, frustrating or reckless. That way I'm definitely kissing you all the time."

Thomas: Thomas studies his face smiling a little. “How you could love me I can’t understand in the slightest. So many less-idiotic people to be into Newt.”

Newt: "Tommy..." Newt leaned down to kiss him. "That was for being both stupid and frustrating. I told you why I love you. It wasn't like I couldn't have fallen for someone else, but I still fell for you."

Thomas: Thomas didn’t want to stop kissing him, wishing he was in better shape so he could do more with the other. It was still a lot, wrapping his head around the fact that somehow Newt loved him. “I love you Newt.” He definitely wasn’t going to lose him now, already planning on how to save Newt this time. He wouldn’t fail.

Newt: The smile on his face was bright in response to the words, kissing him again. "Good. Because maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble without me now."

Thomas: Thomas hummed into the kiss, lifting a hand to Newt’s cheek. “Then we’ll just have to make sure you stay around then, yeah?”

Newt: "That's what I'm planning on, Tommy. Someone's got to look after you. It's not a job I trust to anyone else." He turned his head so he could kiss Tommy's hand.

Thomas: He sighed, lifting an eyebrow. “Than stop fighting me on helping. I can.”

Newt: Newt didn't mean to growl softly. "Don't, Tommy. I'm not letting it happen while you're already beaten up."

Thomas: “It’s just a needle Newt. You can even come with, listen to Caitlin lecture me about being stupid and you can both get on my about poor choices. She’ll even take care of my bruises and lip while we help you. Please.”

Newt: It was so tempting, but what if it was a trick? "Or I could take care of your bruises. Not the first time I've had to deal with the aftermath of a fight."

Thomas: Thomas nodded. “If you really want to, okay. But I’m still going to Caitlin tonight. She’ll help. She’s gotten me out of scrapes before.”

Newt: Newt scowled, but he figured he could deal with that problem later. "Alright, let's clean out your lip first."

Thomas: Thomas didn’t like the scowl, but nodded and sat up. “I’ve got a first aid kit in the nightstand with everything I’d need.”

Newt: Grabbing the first aid kit, Newt settled in front of Thomas. "Obviously this isn't a rare occurrence for you." He was scowling at that now, the idea of Tommy being hurt. "Dumb shank."

Thomas: Thomas sighed. “No it’s not. I just...it’s hard to explain.” Without sounding entirely pathetic and awful, so he didn’t really want to try. “I’m used to it.”

Newt: "Just promise me you'll take me with you the next time, if it's that important to you." Newt was willing to fight anyone for Tommy, it was pretty simple. "This might sting." He cleaned the cut on his lip as carefully as he could.

Thomas: “No. And important to me isn’t the question. Its...all I know to do. Fight and run and struggle. I...it feels more right, to do that rather than pretend I’m fine and live like I’m normal.” He held still while Newt cleaned it, not talking anymore as he waited.

Newt: Newt could understand that, he struggled to pay full attention to his university classes because it was hard to see them as important. "Yes. I'm coming with you." He finished cleaning his lip, leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're just going to have to deal with it."

Thomas: “No you’re not Newt.” He turned to kiss his cheek, but was serious. “You’re not coming. You’re not getting involved in this.”

Newt: "How do you think you're going to stop me? Which gang are you in? I'm hoping Arcadia, gives me more excuses to punch Luke."

Thomas: “By not telling you when it’s happening. You don’t know which gang I work with, you don’t know what I do or where. And I don’t plan on telling you. I’m not letting you follow me into my own idiocy again Newt!” His jaw flexed, refusing to even think about Newt fighting because of him again.

Newt: "Fine, I'll find out on my own." Newt's jaw tensed as well. "I'm allowed to join a gang if I want to, and if we're on opposite sides, that's going to be your fault."

Thomas: “Why are you doing this Newt?” Thomas met his eyes, not understanding why he’d be so stubborn about this. “Why the fuck would you join a gang?”

Newt: "Because I don't care what happens to me, I only care what happens to you, and it's the only way I can think of protecting you if you won't tell me what's going on." It seemed simple to Newt, he doubted it'd be anywhere near as bad as what they'd already gone through.

Thomas: “That’s absolute garbage Newt.” Thomas shook his head, tense with frustration before finally speaking again. “I joined a gang and willingly get into situations where I get hurt because it fucking helps me feel better for letting you die Newt. For letting you, and Chuck, and Teresa, and Winston, and Alby die. You all were following me or listening to my advice when you died, and I can’t fucking live with myself Newt. I can’t accept...I can’t accept that I got to be safe and comfortable when all of you died horribly. And somehow...letting other people point me at danger helped that. A little. And it changed a little when you came back but I can’t just leave a gang. That’s not how gangs work. And just because you’re alive doesn’t change that I don’t.. well, that I don’t deserve this. Or worse. You getting involved in my own self destruction just makes it worse. I’m trying to ease out, and it’s working, but I can’t fix it over night.”

Newt: Newt's heart was breaking for Thomas. "Maybe one day you'll believe me when I tell you it's not your fault. None of us blamed you, it was all on WCKD. But I won't join the gang, alright? Just as long as you promise that if it's getting too dangerous, you tell me. I want to be there for you, I always will. That's part of loving you, Tommy."

Thomas: “How..how can I Newt? Just because you don’t blame me doesn’t mean...doesn’t mean I could’ve done more. Been faster, or smarter.” Thomas let out a heavy breath, ignoring the pain as he reached out and pulled Newt into a hug. “I won’t take you into trouble again Newt. I can’t. People who listen to me die. But thank you. I...you deserve to be safe.”

Newt: "If I'd been stronger, maybe I could have held on long enough. Can twist it a thousand different ways." He hugged Thomas back, probably too tight. He wasn't always good at knowing his strength right now. "Maybe you should try listening to me more often then."

Thomas: Thomas wouldn’t ever blame Newt, but he understood his point. For now he was okay just hugging the other, ignoring the pain of being held so tightly. “Maybe I should.”

Newt Newt tilted his head so he could press a kiss to Tommy's shoulder. "I'm not doing a very good job of first aid, am I?" But he didn't want to let go either.

Thomas: “You’re fine. Hugs are better than ointments and such anyways.” He didn’t move just yet, his face buried in the crook of Newts neck. Finally sitting back, he pressed a kiss to Newts cheek. “I’m alright Newt.”

Newt: Reluctantly letting go, he shifted back. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Thomas: “Hand me my shirt? It’s on the floor by your foot. I’ve gotta get decent again and run an errand.” He smiled slightly, definitely about to go see Caitlin.

Newt: Newt leaned over to grab the shirt - and tossed it further away. "Nice try, Tommy. I'm not letting you leave. Pity about the bruises or I'd enjoy the sight."

Thomas: Thomas sighed with irritation, looking at him. "Why not? It's just a few bruises Newt. I've definitely had worse. And I think the bruises make me look more interesting." He smirked a little, trying to be playful.

Newt: "Would you let me go if I had bruises?" Gently, he laid a hand on Tommy's chest, but he was also ready to stop him from leaving. "I always think you look good, you don't need to impress me."

Thomas: “If I was dying and there was a short time to safe me, maybe.” He pressed lightly into the other’s touch, just liking the feel of his hand. “I may not need to, but I like to.”

Newt: "I'm not dying right this minute. Promise. The black veins haven't even reached my chest yet." They were close, but Newt figured he still had a week left. "Figures you'd be the type to show off for your boyfriend. I'm gonna be worrying about you all the time, aren't I?"

Thomas: Thomas nodded a little, his jaw flexing slightly with the thought. Just because they weren’t at his chest yet wasn’t a good sign either, knowing it was likely getting closer. “Not tonight maybe.” He held the others hand, shaking his head. “No, you shouldn’t. I’m fine.”

Newt: Newt sighed, seeing Tommy's reaction. "Would you like to check for yourself that I'm not about to die tonight? Having you run off after I tell you I love you is going to suck."

Thomas: “I trust you Newt. But tonight doesn’t mean the clock isn’t ticking. Sorry, I just..the thought of losing you again is...” He shook his head, tugging him closer. “I’m not gonna run off. I love you too.”

Newt: Newt wrapped his arms around him again. "You're not going to lose me. Look, if the veins reach my chest, I promise I'll let you do whatever you want to save me." He didn't want it to get that point, but maybe it'd buy him some time to find another solution first.

Thomas: Thomas shook his head. "No. I'm not wasting any time Newt. We already know I'm the cure, why are you fighting me so much on this?" He lightly rubbed the other's side with his hand, meeting his eyes. "You've an easy fix right in front of you. Trust me."

Newt: "I do trust you, Tommy. More than I trust anyone else. That's the problem. I don't trust anyone else, except Annie. My sister. She's trying to find another way, she's a bloody genius." Just not in science, and this wasn't something she could fight.

Thomas: "Then trust me. Just because you don't trust the people i know doesn't mean they're bad. I trust Caitlin to help. And you say you trust me. Give me some time, and I swear I can fix this Newt. You need to trust me. Let me do something right." He may have made mistakes before, but he knew he could handle this.

Newt: "I told you, I'll let you help if there's no other choice. I know you'd fix it, but I don't want you to be in that position." Newt wouldn't forgive himself if Thomas got hurt because of him. I There had to be another way.

Thomas: “Newt, I don’t understand why. It’s the easiest thing. Needles aren’t scary. I’ll be fine. And it’s something you can’t stop me from doing Newt. I’m going to Caitlin. She’ll help, and I’ll have a cure by the end of the week if I know her. She’s brilliant.”

Newt: "Because if you get taken away from me by scientists, I'll be the one who's lost. Not like I'm much use on my own, and I can't ask Annie to risk her life for us."

Thomas: “I’m not gonna die Newt. Literally. She’ll take maybe a pint of blood, I’ll have some candy, and she’ll run some tests on what she takes. It’s the easiest thing.” Thomas was pleading now, looking at him seriously. “I’m not even risking my life.

Newt: "You say that, but we trusted Teresa and look where that got us. Minho got taken." Newt was not going to give in easily. Not when it came to protecting him.

Thomas: “That was different Newt! WCKD isn’t here. Teresa was a coward, Caitlin isn’t. Look at me Newt.” He sighed, but his mind was set. It was stupid to look for a different answer when he was the answer. “No matter what you think of it, I’m going to Caitlin. Before 12 hours have passed I’ll have talked to Caitlin and we’ll be working on this Newt. And nothing bad is gonna happen.”

Newt: "We don't know that WCKD isn't here! Or that it's not someone worse than WCKD." Newt sighed and started to pull away. "Can you give me one day? Just one more day for me to look after you for once."

Thomas: “We do Newt. If WCKD was here we’d already be in labs.” Thomas sighed, not liking that Newt was pulling back. “No Newt. You don’t need to look after me, not in this. There’s no danger here for me. And you look after me all the time. Let me look after you.”

Newt: "It could be some kind of test. Another trick. It wouldn't be the first time." Newt shook his head. "Other than follow you around like a puppy, what have I actually done, Tommy? You're always trying to save everyone."

Thomas: “It’s not. Not this time. Ava’s dead, no one is in charge. It’s not.” Thomas was sure this wasn’t WCKD, though he knew Newt would likely need time. “You kept us alive! Made sure we slept, or were bloody taking care of us when we weren’t caring for ourselves. And trying is the word there Newt. It’s not like I was actually saving anyone. I can save you! This already happened once Newt. Please, let me do it right this time.”

Newt: "Might not be WCKD testing us. Someone brought me back from the dead, Tommy. I don't know why. But what if they did it to lure you?" It wasn't his best thinking, but it was harder every day to think. "I sucked at it, Tommy. Only did it because I didn't want anyone else to try kill themselves like I did."

Thomas: “They already lured me in Newt! There’s no point in waiting to get me now. This isnt..no.” Thomas shook his head. “No you didn’t. I would’ve died way before you if you hadn’t been watching out.”

Newt: The idea Thomas could be in danger made him growl. "They're not going to get you." He would never let that happen, not while he was alive. "You would have lived, Tommy. You don't need me."

Thomas: “No ones coming to get me Newt. No one.” Thomas reaches out, taking his hands. “Have you not listened to a word I said? I’m a wreck without you. I collapse in on myself till there’s nothing left but fucking misery without you. I need you Newt, more than I can even say.”

Newt: Newt still felt shaky with anger and didn't want to hurt Thomas, pulling his hands away. "You don't listen to anything I say. You're not going to lose me. But you should know you're more important than I am."

Thomas: Thomas stood, looking at the other. “I’m listening Newt. And you’re very, very wrong. I’m not more important. Newt. That’s stupid.”

Newt: "Of course you are." Newt threw his hands up in the air. "I'm in love with you, you're more important than anything to me. How don't you get that?"

Thomas: “How don’t you get that I’m in love with you and you’re the more important one to me?!” Thomas was frustrated and angry, and scared. He hated being scared again, but he was terrified he was going to lose Newt all over again.

Newt: "I know you think that, but you're wrong!" Newt didn't mean to shout. It was just hard to control his emotions.

Thomas: “Wrong about what.” Thomas closed the space between them, holding the other’s face gently in his hands. “I love you Newt. And you love me. Of course we are going to be essential to the other.”

Newt: "About me. I'm just a mess. Even if I wasn't dying, you'd deserve better."

Thomas: “No I don’t you idiot. You’re perfect. You’re the one who deserves better than the mess I am.” He stayed close, rubbing Newt’s cheek with his thumb. “I love you more than anything Newt. You’re strong, and you care so much. I’m a fucking mess too, but you still love me.”

Newt: "I'm not good enough, Tommy. I'm also not giving you up, because I don't want to. I want to be selfish and keep you to myself." Newt closed his eyes, trying to keep his emotions steady, but his heart was racing. "I'll always love you. Don't think I can stop. Death didn't stop me."

Thomas: “You’re more than good enough Newt. And I wouldn’t let you anyways. I wouldn’t ever want you to give me up. I am in love with you Newt, and I think you’re perfect.”

Newt: Newt hummed, both happy Tommy was saying it but frustrated with the overall conversation. "You're a bloody idiot, Tommy. But you're my idiot."

Thomas: “That I am. And I’ll always be yours.” Thomas stayed where he was, desperate to touch him for as long as Newt would let him. “I love you so much Newt. More than anything.”

Newt: Carefully, Newt wrapped his arms around him, not wanting to ever lose him. "I love you more than anything too, Tommy." He had for a long time, it wasn't something he ever questioned

Thomas: “And if I have to keep telling you every day, for the rest of our lives, that you are important and loved I will.” Thomas stayed close, needing Newt to know how important he was. “You’re an amazing man. And of us you should’ve known that all along. I’m sorry we didn’t show that to you enough. You’re necessary, and brave, and so many other things.”

Newt: "I'll believe all that when you believe you're not to blame for what happened to me or anyone else." He didn't realise his arms were tight again, just holding onto to Thomas. "I'm not. But it's fine, Tommy. Bigger things to worry about than me."

Thomas: “Everyone else...maybe. But you...” he shook his head a little, comfortable in the others grip and ignoring the twinges of his ribs. “I’ve felt that knife go into your chest and seen the life leave your eyes too many times in my nightmares to think it was anything but me.” Thomas held his eyes. “Nothing in this world is more important to me than you.”

Newt: Newt remembered it so clearly, shuddering slightly. "It wasn't you. I made my choice, and I wanted to die. I didn't want to live like that. It was a better reason to kill myself, that's all." He kissed Thomas, trying to keep it light. "Nothing in any world is more important than you, shank. You... meeting you, it gave me something to hold onto."

Thomas: “I couldn’t stop you. I should’ve stopped you. And that’s...” he hummed, knowing he’d just upset Newt if he had another breakdown. He was terrified of losing him, but that was his struggle. Thomas was determined not to burden Newt anymore than he already had. “Same for you. Though at least you having your Annabeth and me having Caitlin and Frost we have family to worry over too.”

Newt: "You couldn't stop me. I had to do it, or I'd kill you and be as good as dead anyway. You wouldn't have been able to save anyone." What he'd been turning into was a fate worse than death. "Yeah, but my sister doesn't need me to take care of her. She's literally the daughter of a goddess, she could kick anyone's arse."

Newt: “I could’ve. You were still in there, enough to save me, and i could’ve fought better. Disarmed you, took the knife in the shoulder, something.” He sighed before lifting an eyebrow. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you and doesn’t want you around.”

Newt: "There wasn't much of me left. I could feel myself dying faster than my body was. I'd have been completely gone within the hour, I could feel it." He'd been trapped inside himself, like he was now, and the thought of going through that again terrified him. "Yeah, that's why she's trying to help me. And I kinda like beating her cousin up whenever I get too angry."

Thomas: “It would’ve been enough time.” He could’ve gotten him back to WCKD fast enough, and even with Jansen being a dick he was sure Teresa would’ve helped. “People care about you Newt. You’ve more to live for than me.”

Newt: "Or I could have turned and killed you. I wanted to, Tommy. I wanted to hurt you, that's why I had to kill myself." He pulled Thomas as close as he could, shuddering. "I have you and my sister. That's all. I pick fights with everyone else, can't help it."

Thomas: “I know. I could see it in your eyes. That doesn’t change anything for me Newt.” Thomas hugged him back tight; his face pressed into the crook of Newt’s neck. “Picking fights is alright, long as your smart. It’ll be better. We have each other now.”

Newt: "It changed everything. Once I wanted to hurt you, I knew I was better off dead." He cared more about Tommy than anyone. "I'm not smart about it, Tommy. I'm not bad in a fight, but each time, it feels like... I'm losing myself again. Like when I shoved you."

Thomas: Thomas sighed, knowing he couldn’t win with that logic. He also knew it put him in danger of making the same choice, determined not to lose Newt again. “It won’t happen again Newt.”

Newt: Newt still felt sick with the guilt over knowing he wouldn't have told him. "I know you won't let it. I just.... I don't remember what it's like, not being sick."

Thomas: It was tearing Thomas apart, listening to Newt talk like this and knowing he could leave, right then, and have a cure for him in days. But he didn’t want to leave Newt just yet, knowing Newt would be upset again when he did. “You’ll be okay soon Newt. It’s not fair, being brought here sick again. But you’ll be alright soon.”

Newt: He knew he should probably just shut up if he didn't want Tommy to leave right away, but it was hard to find the right words. "Can't believe I can't even die right, I'm that pathetic."

Thomas: Thomas breath caught, so deeply upset by that statement that he hugged Newt tighter, determined not to cry in front of him right now. “You’re not pathetic. Stop being so down on yourself please.”

Newt: Newt tried to focus on taking a few deep and slow breaths, not wanting to upset Tommy more. "Sorry. Hard sometimes." When he wasn't sick, he had been able to work through the depression that led to him trying to kill himself, but now it was harder. "Once I'm better, this will be better."

Thomas: Thomas loosened his grip, not wanting to suffocate the other, and quickly shoved his emotions back down. He needed to focus. Newt was in trouble, he needed to fix it. Pulling back, he met his eyes before kissing him quickly, still aware of his lip. “Give me a couple days. You’ll be good.”

Newt: "We're a right pair of messes, aren't we?" Newt sighed, not wanting Thomas to pull back. He had imagined them saying they loved each other, but this way just seemed like both of them had so much baggage. "Just don't do anything stupid without me."

Thomas: “We are. But I don’t expect we can do much about that now.” Thomas smiled softly at him, gently rubbing his arm. “I love you anyways. But nothing stupid. Easily one of the smartest choices I’ll ever make, okay?”

Newt: Newt returned the soft smile. "At least we're messes together. We'll remind each other of the good parts of us." Even if neither of them would ever believe it. "Thank you. You're why I'm trying to get better, so I need you in one piece."

Thomas: Thomas rested his forehead on Newts, wanting to enjoy the closeness a moment more before bending to pick up his shirt, his jaw flexing slightly the only sign he was hurt. “Sounds perfect to me. And one of these days you might even believe me. But you’re going to get better, without a doubt.” Pulling his shirt on, he took Newt’s hand and met his eyes. “Trust me?”

Newt: "You better not be putting that shirt on so you can leave. You're hurt and I will sit on top of you to make you stay." It wasn't much of a threat, since even though he was tall, Newt was ridiculously skinny. "You know I trust you, that's never in question."

Thomas: “Newt.” He sighed, continuing to hold his gaze. “You’re dying. And every minute that passes is a risk of cutting it too close, or you making the same choice you did last time and I can’t stop it, again. The sooner I get this started the sooner a cure is in your hands.” Thomas squeezed his hand. “Then trust me now. I won’t lose you again.”

Newt: "We're not having this argument again. Lie down, damn it. I promise I won't off myself." He tried to push Thomas towards the bed as carefully as he could, not wanting to hurt him.

Thomas: “Newt.” He held his hands in his own, standing still and looking at him. “I’m fine. They’re only bruises. And tonight maybe not. But I can’t wait. Even just a night.”

Newt: "Tommy, I'm not letting you leave." His jaw was set in a stubborn glare. "I mean it. You're staying with me tonight. Please."

Thomas: Thomas let out a shaky sigh, but forced the fear and his own worry down. How he felt didn’t matter, and Newt was asking. “Alright. I’ll stay with you tonight.”

Newt: Relieved, Newt hugged Thomas. "Thank you." He would have to slip out once Tommy was asleep, try find a way to get help that didn't involve Tommy sacrificing himself.

Thomas: Thomas hugged him back, rubbing his back. “I’m gone in the morning though, alright? I’ll stay with you but then as soon as the sun rises I won’t stay a minute longer.”

Newt: Newt hummed, sort of agreeing. He didn't plan to be there in the morning. "You're so bloody irritating." It was said lightly, so that Tommy knew he didn't mean it. "Come on, I'm exhausted."

Thomas: “You are too.” He smiled softly before nodding at the bed. “Okay. I’ll likely be up for a bit longer so feel free to lay down.” He didn’t sleep often, tired a good portion of the time but he didn’t mind it really.

Newt: "I don't trust you right now. You better lie down with me." He tugged on Tommy's hand, trying to pull him over to the bed.

Thomas: Thomas sighed, letting Newt tug him to the bed and into it with him. “I wouldn’t run off on you Newt, not after I said I wouldn’t.”

Newt: He laid down and pulled Tommy close. "You'd lie to me to save me, and we both know it. And I'll feel a lot better about all this if I know you've gotten some sleep."

Thomas: "With this, there's no room for lying." Thomas looked at him, his expression serious. He was still hurt the other didn't tell him, but wasn't about to throw that at the other. "I don't really sleep much Newt. But I'll stay here with you."

Newt: Newt winced, he knew lying had hurt Thomas. "I was hoping I'd find a cure before I had to tell you, then it wouldn't have mattered." Running a hand down his arm, he hoped to help him relax. "I don't usually sleep much either, but I feel better with you around."

Thomas: "I told you when we met again that I was the cure. I've mentioned it on more than one occasion. When we had time. Even if you had found a cure, I'd still have gone to Caitlin to see if she could make something. Because I'm the only cure I'm certain of Newt. You shouldn't have to worry about this ever again." He was tensed, worried and upset about what could be, but the other's soft touch was helping ease him a bit. "You should rest. Maybe sleeping somewhere that isn't a concrete floor will help."

Newt: "If I'd gotten cured, you would never had to know and you'd be safe." He could easily understand Tommy's perspective, he'd feel exactly the same if the situation was reversed. But he was still stubborn. "But you know now and I'll be fine and we'll be fine." He didn't stop touching Tommy, trying to help him relax. Sneaking out would be impossible if he didn't sleep, and sure, Newt felt bad that he was kinda lying again, but he would let Thomas yell at him once they were both fine. "I don't care where I sleep as long as I'm with you."

Thomas: “You never would’ve told me.” His jaw flexed with the admission, closing his eyes. His feelings didn’t matter, Newt was who was important. He didn’t say anything, falling silent and just focusing on the other’s hand on his arm. “Then you’ll just have to sleep here then. I’ve got more blankets and such if you want...I sleep with a lot of pillows.”

Newt: "It'd only upset you and I know you already carry too much." He didn't want to be another burden for Thomas. "You shouldn't be surprised, I'm always hiding stuff. How I feel, being sick, the way I broke my leg." He was doing a terrible job at this. "I like lots of pillows and blankets. We didn't get that in the Glade, it's nice."

Thomas: Thomas didn't speak, shifting to grab a blanket off the floor and some strewn about pillows before settling back into the bed next to the other. He loved him, but he didn't have any words for what was coming out of Newt's mouth that weren't angry, and he didn't need that right now. "I'm the same. Being able to be comfortable is nice, when I let myself."

Newt: He knew that Thomas was upset with him, and he wanted to fix it. He just didn't know how. "You won't be comfortable with all my awkward angles pressing into you." He joked, a little hesitant as he wrapped an arm around him. "But it's too late now."

Thomas: Thomas shifted closer. “I’d rather take your bony elbows poking me and a concrete floor forever than anywhere alone.” He meant it, though he didn’t meet Newt’s eyes for a moment before finally. “No more hiding things from each other, okay?”

Newt: "Well, this way, we've got a comfortable bed and each other, so that's a pretty good deal to me." Tommy's words made him sigh, nodding once. "Alright. So I make it clear, when I wake up, I'm still going to try find a cure on my own. I won't stop you though, if you really think your sister can help. But this way, we're doubling my chances. And if something happens to you, I'll be able to rescue you."

Thomas: Thomas knew he wasn’t going to do better, even though he thought it ridiculously stupid. “There’s nothing to save me from Newt. But fine.” He took his hand, wanting to be close and linked with the other as much as he could.

Newt: Newt knew it was probably irrational, but arguing with his brain never really worked these days. "I really hope you're right, Tommy." He squeezed his hand.

Thomas: “I know I’m right.” He nodded solemnly before letting out a sigh, shifting to lay on his back. He didn’t know what to say, or do even, but he had to believe they could be alright. “I love you Newt. Even if you’re a shank sometimes.”

Newt: Feeling bad for upsetting him, Newt didn't know how to fix this. "I love you too, Tommy. I'm sorry, okay?" It was like he was always fighting his own brain these days.

Thomas: He felt like he was what was holding Newt back now, Newt's secrets and worrying about everyone's safety but his own putting his life now at risk, and all to spare Thomas' feelings or worries. "I know. And it's....it'll be okay."

Newt: Newt felt a little sick, interpreting Tommy's words to mean they weren't okay right now. "I'll make it up to you when I'm better. Whatever you want, yeah?"

Thomas: Thomas looked over at him, studying Newt a moment. "You don't need to make anything up to me Newt. You did what you felt you had to. I'm just...troubled by what you felt you could and couldn't say."

Newt: "I knew it'd upset you. I don't like to be a burden to anyone, and especially not you." He sighed, rolling onto his side to get more comfortable. "It's easier to pretend I'm okay if you think I am."

Thomas: "That's not...we can't keep doing this Newt. Keeping our lives secret from each other out of concern for each other's feelings. It just makes it easier to shock the other with bad news when we can't keep it hidden. Pretending doesn't help. You don't have to be okay Newt. Rarely are we ever. And I still am into you. So no concern there." He smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood.

Newt: He knew Thomas had a point. It hadn't been fun to walk in and see him covered in bruises, after all. "I'll try, I promise. I don't think I have anything else I'm keeping from you. Not on purpose." But it didn't erase the guilt he still felt.

Thomas: "I'll do the same Newt. Really." He met his eyes, though still hiding how he was fully feeling from the other. Newt did not need his fear, or guilt right now. Instead he just lifted their entwined fingers to his lips and kissed them. "Get some rest Newt."

Newt: "You're... too bloody good, Tommy." It was softly spoken, Newt closing his eyes after the kiss to his fingers. "I'm so lucky."

Thomas: Carefully shifting to his side, Thomas watched the other's face as he closed his eyes, reaching forward to run his fingers gently through Newt's hair. "Same here. You're the greatest man I've ever known Newt."

Newt: A soft sigh slipped from his lips as Tommy played with his hair, the feeling soothing. "I love you." He didn't want to disagree again, not when it was hard to stay awake.

Thomas: “Love you too.” He continued to play with the other’s hair, wanting him to relax. He wasn’t sure if he’d sleep himself, but he wanted Newt to at least have some rest.

Newt: Newt hadn't thought he'd fall asleep, but he did, curling closer into Tommy's side like he couldn't get close enough.

Thomas: Thomas didn't move to leave once he was asleep, just enjoying the quiet moment while he could. He looked so peaceful and happy, and he didn't want that to end. Thomas did end up falling asleep not too much later, slumped in the pillows by Newt's head, their hands still entwined.

Newt: When he woke, Newt felt a little dazed, pulling Thomas closer. That was right, they were together, it was real. And he'd upset him. Hoping to make up for it, Newt ran his hand along his arm. He would wait for him to wake, instead of slipping off. Thomas: Thomas hummed at the touch on his arm, waking up slowly at the touch. He was relieved to see Newt had stayed, honestly expecting he would've woken up alone. "Hey..."

Newt: "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." He whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Get some more sleep."

Thomas: Thomas sighed, admittedly tired and still half-asleep. "I sleep light." He yawned a little, "What about you? You should be sleeping."

Newt: "I don't sleep much anymore." It was like his body burned through everything too fast. His energy never lasted long, but nor did he sleep much.

Thomas: That was enough to bring reality crashing back into Thomas mind, shifting now to get up. He needed to get to Caitlin. “Maybe resting will help?”

Mac: He bit back a sigh when Tommy moved, sitting up as well. "I'm fine, Tommy. And I know what you're doing." He was going to leave, which meant Newt was getting desperate. He couldn't let someone take Tommy, not when he was getting sicker every day.

Thomas: Thomas turned to look at him, cocking his head a little. “I told you I’d go in the morning Newt.” He didn’t understand the other’s fear, but suspected it was because of the Flare agitating his thoughts.

Newt: "Yeah, and you're trying to get me to stay. But I told you I was going in the morning too." He sat up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

Thomas: “I know. I really wish you wouldn’t though.” He sighed, knowing he was gonna have to be quick to get Caitlin working and have an update for Newt so he’d stop worrying.

Newt: "And I wish you wouldn't." He'd have to be fast, the longer it took, the harder it would be to protect Thomas. "It's just the problem when we love each other more than ourselves."

Thomas: Thomas sighed, shifting to sit cross legged in front of Newt. “You wont believe me, will you? That I’ll be safe.”

Newt: Thomas was someone Newt would always trust. But Newt also couldn't convince himself this was going to be fine. "No. I want to, but I can't. I can't lose you."

Thomas: Thomas sighed, his jaw flexing slightly but he just gave Newt a tired smile. "I trust Caitlin just as much as I trust you Newt. Nothing will happen. Though I know that won't help." Leaning forward he kissed Newt deeply, wanting to at least have this before he left.

Newt: He couldn't help the look of offence at words but he didn't complain. "When it's all over, you can tell me you told me so." He kissed him back eagerly, pulling him closer.

Thomas: Thomas shifted closer to the other, not wanting to break away just yet. He knew he'd see him again, this wasn't a final kiss or anything, but he needed Newt to know he'd be alright. Thomas was sure of that much. This time he could save him. He didn't break away till he needed to breathe, resting his forehead on Newt's. "I love you. Once this is done we'll...talk about this, okay?" He gestured between them, giving him a soft smile.

Newt: His fingers curled into Tommy's shirt, wanting to keep him close. As long as they were together, Newt could keep him safe. "I love you too." It made him a little nervous, the idea of talking and something going wrong. "Yeah, we'll talk. Hopefully I won't say anything else you don't like."

Thomas: “Come with me?” He figured he’d try, though he expected Newt had other ideas. “I’m sure I will say stuff you don’t lik, but that’s just how life goes.” He smiled softly, kissing him one last time before shifting back to leave. “Morning’s here. I’ll see you soon, okay? It’ll only take a couple hours for me to talk to her and stuff, so I can be back quick.”

Newt "I can't, Tommy." He sighed, reluctantly letting go once Thomas kissed him again. "I'll come back as soon as I've found something. I'm not going to give up, I promise. You're not losing me." He got up, trailing his fingers over Tommy's arm for a second. "If I can't find anything, I hope your sister really does help."

Thomas: “I figured not, but I’ll still ask. I’ll find you in a few hours alright? It’ll all be figured out and you’ll be able to see I’m not being tortured or something.” He smiled a little, taking Newts hand and squeezing it before he moved to the door. “Trust me. Even if it’s just this once.” Newt: "Yeah, you're right. It'll all be fine when we see each other again." He still felt so terrified watching Tommy walk out, half tempted to drag him back and just refuse to leave the room. "Just go before my stupid brain decides I won't let you."

Thomas: Thomas gave him another smile before slipping out, making it till he was out of earshot before he was off at a run. He didn’t want to give Newt too much time, knowing Caitlin could do it.

#when the hell does it stop: Thomas #tw: death #tw: suicide attempt mention #tw: injury

1 note · View note