#Machine Learning Must-Reads: Fall Edition | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtan-madi · 5 years ago

Text

noel on ice — kim namjoon

Pairing — Namjoon x Reader, feat. minor mention of Jungkook x OC

Genre — fluff, holiday, minor angst, mental health

Tags — strangers to lovers, figure skater!Namjoon, barista!MC, non-idol au, figure skater au, café au, holiday au

Word Count — 16k

Summary — After sustaining a crushing defeat at the World Figure Skating Championships, falling from his perfect gold standard to his long-time rival, Kim Namjoon returns to South Korea with an unsure heart and accompanying injury. At the same time, Y/N is as far from home as she has ever been due to a falling out with her family, working as a barista at a café in Seoul while trying to finish her degree. As if by fate, the two meet, and Namjoon makes it his goal to make Y/N see the magic of the holidays -- one Christmas adventure across Seoul at a time.

Warnings — minor language, brief anxiety attack, mentions of ptsd related symptoms

A/N — This year has been a very difficult one for us all. For my fic in this Christmas collab, I wanted to acknowledge all of that and give a little mental health break for everyone. All of our experiences have been different, but one thing we all have in common is that 2020 was unexpected, painful, and heavy. Please, no matter what holiday you celebrate, let yourself have as much rest and healing as you need. If this little, probably-needs-more-editing-than-I-had-time-for fic can help you get there — even just for the twenty minutes it takes to read — then my job is done ❤️ I love you all, and I know I speak for the others when I say I hope 2021 treats us all so much kinder, and I hope we learn to love ourselves in spite of our worlds around us.

Playlist — Link here.

Christmas Collaboration — this fic is a part of the Christmas Collab by @kooala (link coming soon!)

"Hey—Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Raising your head slightly, your eyes widening as you realize you've zoned out again, focusing on the snowfall outside instead of the next customer in line. The woman waving her hand in front of you is as foreign to South Korea as you are, but her expression is entirely that of an angry American. Her scowl has etched deep lines into her skin, where smile lines should be.

Unfortunately, her face is all too familiar. Usually it pays to be one of the only native English-speakers at your café; however, when Americans come in, you're the one pushes to take their orders and serve them.

Even the most difficult ones.

"S—Sorry, Ma'am," you mutter. Shaking your head, you force a customer-service smile. "I was just admiring the snowfall. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, yeah," she retorts sarcastically. "So beautiful that it's making travel home nearly impossible. Can you please just make my drink so I can leave?"

"I—I didn't hear it, Ma'am. Can you repeat it please?"

While the woman rolls her eyes, she repeats her order swiftly, muttering something along the lines of, "Baristas these days, I swear to god," under her breath. "Make sure to get it right this time. Every time I come in and order a blended cappuccino, you guys end up giving me a latte, which is not what I ordered."

"And every time, we have to explain that all a latte is, is a blended cappuccin—"

"—I don't want to hear it!"

With a sigh, you ring up the total for the "blended cappuccino, not latte" and let the woman pay. From the sidelines, your co-worker Lisa stands with a glare and a tin of heated milk ready to go for your order.

"Ms. Blended cappuccino again?" she asks as you turn towards her with a note written in perfect Hangul.

You nod, running a hand over your hair in frustration. "I hate being the only native bi-lingual person here. Means I get to deal with her every damn time."

Sensing your downtrodden spirit, Lisa pushes you out of the way, giving you a gentle shove towards the back room. "I got this one. Go take a breather in the back, okay?"

"But—"

"—Ah! No buts. I know enough English to get by."

From the front desk, the woman pipes up again, demanding her drink be made faster. Lisa marches past your, arms herself with the imaginary drink, and says in perfect English, "You're in Seoul now. Speak Korean."

Knowing Lisa can handle the absolute hell-spawn that is an angry American Karen, you turn your back to the drama and shuffle to the break room behind the "employees only" door. An exasperated breath escapes as you revel in the silence, pushing away the muffled café sounds on the other side of the door. Being the only one in the break room, you spot your favorite white chocolate mocha on the side table, with a smiley face sticky note indicating it's from Lisa beside it.

You smile gently at the sweet gesture, and shove the sticky note into your pocket as a reminder to yourself to thank her later.

Taking the mug between your overworked hands, you settle down on the window seat and watch the December sky slowly shift from violet to navy. The mocha is just slightly sweet with a hint of peppermint, just like you like it. It's almost enough to illicit the Christmas spirit lying dormant inside you.

There's something incredibly painful about this particular holiday season, you think to yourself as the cars pass swiftly on the street outside. The glittering lights, the beautiful carols, the crystalline snow — none of it feels the same as last year. The holidays are supposed to be a time of comfort and renewal, but this year — after moving halfway around the world by yourself — your heart is starting to wonder if that part of you has died.

Maybe it's the loneliness you're feeling, or maybe it's the fact that you're so far away from home. Or maybe it's the fresh-in-your-mind arguments and falling out with your family over the summer. That bitter taste lingers still in the back of your throat, not unlike a dark espresso. A Christmas season without your parents and siblings; you never thought living your own life and following your happiness could hurt so much. For better or worse, that nostalgic feeling family and friends bring is long gone. And now you're nostalgic for nostalgia itself; what kind of messed up feeling is that?

You've had twenty-four wondrous, magical holiday seasons. Is it part of growing up that your allotment of joyful Christmas days is limited?

Is twenty-five the year that the magic just...stops?

When the night sky becomes unchanging, the door to the café kitchen opens. Lisa peeks her head inside, side-bangs falling in her face. "How's the mocha? Did I get it right?"

You take the last sip with a grateful smile, then place the mug onto the coffee table. "You nailed it. Thank you, I needed that."

Pride swells in Lisa's chest, and her shoulders straighten as she enters the room. "Well, good news. Karen's gone," she announces, "and your favorite customer is here!"

"Who?"

Lisa places her hand horizontally at her hip-level. "About this tall? Loves peppermint hot choco?

Bolting from your seat, all your concerns are momentarily gone. Your co-worker doesn't have to utter another word to get you to exit the back room and reenter the kitchen.

Across the counter, a mop of black hair is barely visible. Dark brown eyes peer over the granite surface; they twinkle and shine at the sight of you. Tiny hands splay on the surface in an attempt to make the small child taller. He's around seven to eight years, you estimate. Nine or ten at the very most. Definitely not out of primary school. And he's your very favorite customer, because unlike most, this child comes in with a toothy grin almost every single day with enough money for a peppermint hot chocolate. He's never late, and he's never unhappy. If the Sun were to bless the world with a ray of sunshine in human form, this kid would be it.

"Ahjumma!" the little boy shouts, a grin plastered on his face.

Instead of having him crane his neck, you walk around the counter, bend down on one knee, and ignore the other customers behind him. Pulling one of the tiny baked goods from your apron pocket, you offer the sweet to the child with a wink.

"You're here awfully late, Yeongu. You're usually here right after school lets out. It's already after dark."

Yeongu digs through his pocket and pulls out several crumpled won, enough for his beverage of choice. "Tomorrow is the last day before Christmas break, so dad picked me up and took me skating. I'm with mom and her boyfriend for the rest of the month 'cause Dad's going to Busan with his new wife. I don't like her that much. She frowns too much. And she smells like soju and taffy."

You exchange the won for the baked treat, laughing softly as you invite the boy onto the corner table nearest the hot chocolate machines. "You don't like taffy, do you?"

He makes a face and takes a big bite of the delicacy. "My teacher tells us that if we eat taffy, it will help us remember things. I ate too much of it last year, and now I hate it. Dad's new wife must always be forgetting things, because she always smells like it!"

After finishing the simple drink, you slide the mug across the table and plop down in the seat across from the small boy. "So does this mean I won't get to see you until after Christmas?"

Yeongu shakes his head. "I'll be by tomorrow after. Mom wanted to visit my cousin before we left. He's back in town for Christmas, and we haven't seen him in a long time."

"Oh? What does he do?"

"Sports."

At that, the boy changes the conversation. "What are you doing for Christmas, Ahjumma?"

"Yeah, Ahjumma," Lisa pipes up after serving the final to-go customer for the night. She flips the sign on the front door and turns back to the two of you, hand on her hip. "What are you doing for your first Christmas in Korea?"

Shrugging slightly, you turn your attention back to the small child across from you. "I'll probably spend the day with Mochi — my cat — probably studying so I'll be ahead in the new year for my next classes." Lisa gives an empathetic look at the mention of your kitten, which causes you to roll your eyes playfully. "Don't give me that look! I'll be fine. Probably best for me to have a relaxed, non-hectic couple of days. This year has been a rough one."

"That sounds sad," Yeongu states bluntly, earning a snicker from Lisa.

"Kid's right. Absolutely dreadful, [Y/n]. What a lame Christmas."

"What about you, then? Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

At the question, Lisa's smirk drops and she perks up. "Well, I'm sure you know, but Christmas in Korea is pretty different from America," Lisa reminds you, and you nod your acknowledgement. "It's more of a couple holiday, so my boyfriend Jungkook and I are planning to take the week off and do a ton of holiday activities together. Mostly outdoors stuff. Y'know, snowboarding, skiing, snowball fights — the usual."

"Sounds like a blast," you laugh.

"Oh, it will be." She gives a wink, then nods to Yeongu. "Are we about done here? I need to head out if you're okay with locking up for the night."

You give a wave of approval as the child nears the end of his glass. "I got this. Say hello to Jungkookie for me."

Lisa flashes a set of extravagant finger hearts before disappearing into the back, where she gathers her personal items and exits out the rear entrance. In her absence, Yeongu tugs on your sleeve and holds up an empty mug.

"Thank you for the hot choco, Ahjumma," he grins, showing the dark stain on his upper lip.

Taking the mug, you use the edge of your apron to clean the mess from his face. "If you come by tomorrow before you leave with your Eomma, I'll make you another with extra peppermint, okay?"

The boy's smile grows, and he hops up from the table with a swift bow. "I'll be here!" He heads for the door with a skip in his step.

"Will you get home all right?" you call after him.

Yeongu turns and grins. "I will, don't worry, Ahjumma!"

And then he's gone, out the door in a rush of energy and giggles towards his home nearby. You merely shake your head; there's no point in going after him now.

Soon after, you're following in his step. It doesn't take you long to clean up. By the time you lock up and exit out the back, snow has begun to fall. You brave the cold, tugging your coat tighter around you, burying your face into your scarf. The journey to the subway is short, and your feet take you quickly. Even still, you stare upward at the snowy clouds in hope that they might spark a semblance of Christmas joy in your heart.

Tonight, like every other night, nothing changes.

You heave a sigh, and the breath billows out as a visible fog as you enter the station. Going through the motions to get to your apartment is easy. A swipe of a card, a short ride to the edge of the neighborhood, and a trek up the set of stairs. Once through the door, you're greeted by a mewing shadow of a cat.

"Hi, my baby girl," you greet with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the tiny fur ball behind the ears. The black cat rubs her chin against your palm and follows you when you waltz to the kitchen. "You hungry?"

As if responding, "Yes!" Mochi speeds up and meows a bit louder than last time.

Her antics bring a smile to your face as you turn on the television for background noise. You find the nearest Korean news station, finding the program in the middle of a report on Korea's favorite rap duo and their upcoming tour: Suga and J-Hope. Your intention with the selection is two-fold — first, to continue to enhance your skills of the Korean language, and two, to continue learning about the culture and world of your new home. While you had extensive knowledge of both before moving to Seoul — despite the process being rather quick due to the fallout with your family — nothing compares to being immersed in the country itself.

As the musical entertainment section ends, you begin pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard. "What do you think sounds good, Mochi? How about teokbokki?" The black cat perches her paws on your right leg, purring pleasantly. "I agree, sounds great after a long day."

You toss a bag of rice cakes onto the counter as the news changes to sports. Even as you prepare the sauce for the meal, you actively listen to the voices in the background.

"Unfortunately, RM Nam's ice skating season has been cut short due to an unforeseen injury he sustained during practice this summer. At the time, the damage to his shoulder seemed unnoticed by the athlete and his coach. However, as we saw earlier this October at the Grant Prix Series: Skate America, Mr. Nam's mishap on the ice turned out to be far more damaging than originally thought. Thus, the position representing South Korea at the next in the series, Skate Canada, was shifted to his rival, Kim Seokjin, and RM Nam returned home to Seoul to recover."

You can't but help a glance up at the screen. The skater in question has his back turned to the cameras as he heads into the airport. Behind his sunglasses, mask, and beanie, he offers a polite smile and wave to the reporters. Moments later, his coach guides him into the building, out of sight.

"That doesn't sound fun," you mutter to yourself as the report moves onto politics.

After you finish cooking, you plate yourself a portion and move into the living room. Besides the tiny tan sofa and the television propped up on a box, most of the room is bare. There are a handful of boxes strewn across the apartment of the few things you either had shipped from the States or that you bought in your six months since then, but for the most part, you've been putting off all of it. Most of your time is spent at work or at school; you haven't had the time, energy, or motivation to do any of it. Even at Christmas, despite Lisa gifting you with your very own tiny tree and twinkle lights to spread across the home, you've yet to unpack any of it. The tree remains in the slender box beside the TV, and you doubt it will go up this year at all.

Heaving a sigh at the thought, you turn the channel to VIKI put on your favorite drama. This particular one is a reincarnation plot with two male leads played by Korea's golden boys: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Paired with the bowl of teokkboki in your lap and the kitten curled to your side, it's enough to drag you thoughts out of homesickness and back to the present.

This might just have to be the Christmas you forget and hope that the next year is a kinder one.

A lot changed in your life this year. In some ways, the changes were good. In others, not so much. Most of the turbulent times were in the heat of the summer, but things began slowing down once you moved to South Korea in September. You were now away from toxic family members, away from a life you never wanted, and looking ahead to an uncertain but certainly hopeful future.

In late October, the seasons began changing for the better — and not just in the physical sense of the falling leaves and cooler breeze. Lisa was right about your favorite customer; it truly was little Yeongu. However, there was another that you looked forward to seeing, just as much as the elementary school boy.

This person was older, around your age, with a deeply dimpled smile that made your stomach flutter. Eyes as slender as his body proportions, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't an attractive man. Hair the color of the snowflakes he walked through, eyes the color of the beverage he'd always order, skin the color of warmth in a cozy fireplace. Even his voice was warm and deep; at every conversation, while you are completely fluent in Korean, you find yourself just wanting to listen to the soft timbre.

Over time, this man — whose name you'd quickly learn was Kim Namjoon — became a regular at your little coffee shop. He'd come in at the oddest hours, either super early or super late. Hours you often worked alone, when there were fewer customers. Every time, he'd strike up a conversation as you took his order and crafted his beverage of choice (a heavy coffee brewed dark and bitter, with just a splash of cream and almond whip.) He was sweet, and eventually you opened up. He'd hang around the counter long after the transaction was completed, sometimes until another customer stole your attention away. It didn't take long for you to realize that he was far more than merely a pretty face.

In those weeks leading up to December, you found yourself smiling a bit more. Joking a bit more. Shoulders lightening a bit more. You looked forward to the increasingly insistent days where he'd waltz in — sometimes covered in raindrops, sometimes in crisp leaves, sometimes in snowflakes — always a crystal blue umbrella under his arm and a charcoal grey scarf around his neck.

It's the same person standing at the entrance now, the man currently shaking the rain from his umbrella and platinum locks. Lisa gives you a smirk as she nods her head towards the register and steps away from the counter, as if silently saying, "You're up, m'lady. Holler if you need me; I'll be doing an order in the back."

You brush your hair back into proper place, display a genuine smile, and take your stance behind the register. When Namjoon's eyes meet yours, his smile deepens and creates dimples on either side of his mouth.

After the customer in front of him pays and leaves with his order in hand, you greet him with a simple, "You haven't been in, in over a week. Finally trying to break your caffeine addiction?"

Namjoon gives a deep laugh and shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. I like being able to function as an adult in society, thank you very much." He pulls out several won from his wallet. "I'll have..."

"The usual?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "You remember?"

"Of course," you grin, and type his drink of choice into the register. Taking his money, you add, "How could I forget your order after the hilarious reaction when I suggested a mint mocha?"

The boy thinks back to the first day he walked into the café, and recalls that conversation with a groan. "Oh god, was I that bad?"

Handing him his change, you tap your chin and reply, "Well, maybe a bit. I'd never seen someone so horrified at the idea of mint chocolate."

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Sorry about that. Pretty terrible at hiding my disdain for that flavor combo."

"No worries! Made me laugh."

Seeing that there are no other customers behind him, you turn to the brewing station and usher Namjoon to take a seat on the bar stool across the counter. It's a position you've taken several times before. When the customers are low, as they are at this hour of evening, the platinum-haired man tends to linger and converse far after his drink is finished.

"What brings you in today? Just wanted a pick-me-up or?"

Namjoon heaves a sigh. He watches you closely but casually, silently admiring the skillful way you begin to brew the dark beverage. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, and coming here always helps me de-stress."

"Coffee helps you relax?" You can't help but chuckle at the sentiment.

"And the company."

Heat rushes to your face, and when you glance up to meet his gaze, the warmth only increases. "You're smooth, Kim Namjoon. Very smooth."

Brown eyes widen, and he bows his head so that his bangs cover his eyes. "That's not what I meant at all!"

"Calm down, you're fine. Wanna talk about what's on your mind, though?"

In all your conversations, the two of you have only ever talked on the shallow surface of various topics. You don't know much about Namjoon, and he doesn't know much about you — despite having shared extremely vague information about your year, your jobs, and your education. You feel very open with him, but most of the time, those conversations can't be had in a fifteen minute discussion at a café.

"It's a long, complicated story. I'm not sure you'd wanna hear it." He raises his hands defensively as he realizes how his words might be construed. "Not that you wouldn't understand! I just wouldn't want to be a downer."

You select the cold brew setting on the machine and let the device begin to whir to life. "Well, I've got at least the time it takes to make your drink. I'm all ears."

Namjoon shakes his head as he settles his elbows on the counter. "You're persistent."

"Honey, I've been called far worse."

Seeing your eagerness, your companion heaves a sigh and shifts his gaze from you to the window at his right. As be begins to speak, his demeanor falls a bit. He's not as happy-go-lucky; there's an err of anxiety about him that you can't quite nail down. "I've been thinking about a change in career recently. Things haven't been unfolding this year like I wanted...and I'm starting to think I'm not meant to do what I'm doing now. Maybe I need to retire — from this industry, I mean, and move on to another."

Even with that small confession, you can't help but mirror his emotions. "I hear you. I've felt similar feelings this year."

His gaze shifts back to yours, and he tilts his head in surprise. "Really? How so?"

"I told you I moved to Seoul in September, right?" Namjoon nods. "That's because I wanted a...a fresh start. I enrolled in Yonsei University, got a job here, and just...moved."

"That's pretty brave, and that's really awesome you're at Yonsei. They're a fantastic school."

"Thanks," you grin whilst popping the canister of cold brew out from under the brewing machine. "I needed to get away from certain people in my life that weren't letting me move forward, so moving was the best choice." You pour the dark beverage into a small mixer and pull out the vanilla creamer. "Sure you don't want mint this time? Last chance."

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow as a silent challenge; the expression makes you giggle to yourself as you pour the very non-mint add-ins. "Hilarious."

"Hey! Just offering." After giving the mixture a whisk, your smile falters.

Nothing gets by the observant person across the counter. "I feel like your story has a 'but' after what you ended with."

"You're good," you reply, gesturing to him with the handheld whisk. "I'm not talking too much, am I?"

Namjoon shakes his head adamantly and flourishes with his hand for you to continue. "I mean, we're practically friends now. Please, go on."

Reassured by both his calming nature and genuine interest, you continue talking. "But after getting here...let's just say it's hard to make friends and get out there in a country where you look so different, where your language isn't native, and where you know literally no one. So...ah, this year's been a pretty lonely one, and I know I still made the right choice, but now that the holidays are here..." You trail off and offer a small smile. "All that to say, I know what it's like to second-guess yourself and not have things go the way you thought."

"Seems we have a lot in common," he chuckles, leaning his chin on his hand.

The comment causes the mood to lighten, and you let a laugh slip out. "Yeah, seems so."

Before the conversation can continue, the front door opens. Yeongu enters, a couple of other customers behind him. As if on cue, Lisa enters from the back room and greets the adults with a smile and a swift, "Hi, welcome! What can I get you this evening?"

As the child approaches the adjacent counter where you stand, his grin widens. You perch your elbows on the counter and lean over. "How's my favorite customer?"

"I'm finally free from school, Ahjumma!" Yeongu cheers loudly.

"Congrats! I'm sure you're relieved." He nods affirmatively. "t's freezing outside. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I promise. But can I get a mint hot choco?" He holds up a crumpled bill with a toothy grin.

"Of course, you can. Extra mint, just like I promised." You nod towards the seat closest to the window. "Sit in your usual spot, okay? After I get this nice man his coffee, I'll get your hot chocolate."

As Namjoon turns to look at the child, Yeongu's eyes widen in surprise. "Namjoon-hyung! I didn't know you were here."

Much to your shock, Namjoon reciprocates the affection and hops down from his chair to bend down to Yeongu's level. "Yeon-ie!" He teases the boy by ruffling up his hair, which Yeongu scowls at him for.

"Um... You two know each other?"

"Yep!" Yeongu grins. "He's my cousin, the one I told you about yesterday."

"Oooh, that makes sense. Didn't realize my two favorite customers were related."

Yeongu laughs at the comment and hops into the chair beside Namjoon. "But I'm your favorite customer, right?"

"Of course," you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Ahjumma, can I please have mine in a to-go cup? Mom told me to come right home so we can finish packing for our trip."

"Of course, give me just a second to get you a lid." You turn to your first customer with an apologetic smile. "Namjoon, I'm almost done with yours. Just give me a moment."

"Actually, do you mind putting mine in a to-go cup as well?" He jerks his thumb towards Yeongu. "I should probably walk him home. He lives just around the corner from me. I'd feel better if I did."

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

"Would you walk with us, Ahjumma? Pleeeease?"

Your gaze moves to Namjoon. "Do you mind?"

The elder cousin hops up from his chair, shaking his head adamantly. "Not at all! Can you?"

"Sure, I'm about at the end of my shift anyway! Let me grab my coat. I'll come with." You turn quickly to Lisa, murmuring, "Can you watch—?"

She cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "—Go! I can close up for the night. But if you don't come back with a date planned, the invitation to spend New Years with Jungkookie and me is rescinded."

With a playful eye-roll, you peck her on the cheek and run to the back for your coat. Once you return, you find Namjoon scuffling Yeongu's dark locks with a dimpled smile. Looking back up as you return, the expression doesn't falter.

"Ready?"

You nod and follow behind through the exit, trying to ignore the wink and dual thumbs-ups Lisa flashes you as you pass.

Once on the street, Yeongu walks ahead of you and Namjoon. The first few minutes are silent between you two. From ahead, you can hear the small child talking to himself, or perhaps his hot chocolate, and then occasionally to the adults.

As you cross the busy street, Namjoon clears his throat. "So...you have any plans for Christmas?"

You scoff under your breath and shake your head. "Why does this topic keep coming up?"

"Hope I didn't offend," he laughs. "Yeongu said something about a café girl not having plans last night. I figured it was you."

"Trust me, you're good. But yeaaah. Kinda new to Korea. I spent the fall settling in and trying to start over. Between work and school, didn't expect much. Holidays sneaked up on me, I guess."

There's a pause as the trio rounds the corner. Yeongu finishes his hot cocoa along the way and hands the empty cup to Namjoon. The elder doesn't even hesitate to take it, and the boy rushes ahead to what you assume is his home. Over his shoulder, he shouts, "Thank you for the choco, Ahjumma!"

You grin widely and wave. "You're welcome!"

Yeongu turns to Namjoon, sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, then disappears into his house.

"Aaand that's the thanks I get." Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention as the sun sets behind Seoul Tower. "I have a crazy idea."

"Oh, really?" You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. "Those are my favorite kind of ideas."

"Cheesy," he grins. "Well...I don't have any plans either. Maybe we spend it together?"

"No plans, huh? Do I look that pitiful?"

"No! No, it's not that at all, god." Namjoon's smirk falls from his face as a horrified expression drowns out any humor. "Sorry if that's how it came off. I just—You seem really nice, and it's been a while since either of us just enjoyed someone else's company. No strings. No pressure."

Tugging your lower lip between your teeth, you shuffle in your step. "I don't know, Namjoon..."

"Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I hate to see anyone's shoulders so heavy in December. How about this — give me three days to prove the magic isn't lost."

"Three days? That's it?"

"That's it."

"Okay then, Mr. Kim." You offer a hand in his direction. "Three days."

Namjoon's eyes lock with yours, as does his hand. "It's a deal."

The following weekend you wake to a phone call coming in from your recently-added number. Rolling out from under the covers to grab the device from the nightstand, you answer with voice still groggy with sleep. "Hello?"

"Are you still sleeping?" the caller laughs in a deep timbre.

"Shuddup." Peaking an eye open, the time on the screen reads just after eleven a.m. "It's not that late."

"Really?"

"Did you call me just to make fun of my lack of healthy sleep schedule, or did you have a point?"

"Ouch!” Namjoon exclaims playfully. “I actually did call, and it's actually perfect because I don't need you ready to go until around three this afternoon. So you can totally just go back to sleep."

You curl back under your heated blanket and revel in the warmth it provides. Beside you, Mochi curls closer, nearly sitting on your head. "Mmm sounds perfect. Wait—what?"

"You heard me." There's a hint of teasing in Namjoon's words. "It's Day 1. Be ready for an outdoor adventure by three. I'll pick you up then, okay sleepyhead?"

The butterflies rumble in your stomach at the nickname, and you clear your throat before replying. "Yep, got it. Three p.m. Outdoor adventure. Can't you tell me what it is or where we're going?"

"And ruin the surprise? No way. Just trust me, Jagi."

A squeak slips out, and you throw your hand over your mouth to hide it. "Okay, see you there—I mean then!"

You can almost hear Namjoon shaking his head as he says his goodbyes and ends the call. Despite still being sleepy and warm and cozy in your nest, you lie wide awake in bed for the next half-hour, replaying his voice over and over in your head like a well-loved record.

The day flies by, and eventually it's approaching three. You've dressed to impress while still trying to keep it casual. Despite this being a date, it's still casual. You like Namjoon a lot, and you hope he likes you as well. However, outside of conversations at the café, you haven't spent a lot of time together yet. This is as good a second-first impression as any, and you intend to make the most of it.

Grabbing your winter coat and scarf, you scurry down the stairs and spot Namjoon lingering by the entrance with two cups in his hands. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater with a dark grey jacket over top, his usual scarf looped twice around his neck. A beanie covers his head, but bits of his platinum hair still stick out in places. Slung across his shoulder is a brown leather backpack. He always looks nice, that much you know, but the fact that today he looks nice for you makes you sickly happy.

He flashes a smile as you bound out the door. "You look rested," he teases, then offers you one of the cups.

Taking it with a nose scrunch, you look down at the order on the side, seeing that it's your usual order. "How did you know!"

He shrugs. "I have my ways."

"Was it Lisa?"

"Maybe..." He straightens up and nods his chin towards the nearby station. "Follow me for our first adventure!"

After boarding the train to Itaewon, you can't help but wonder where he might be taking you. Your mind goes through all of the things to do in Itaewon, but the list is lengthy. From his excited and proud expression, you know Namjoon has been looking forward to this all day, just as you have.

After exiting fifteen minutes down the line, Namjoon reaches for your free hand. "May I...?"

Your fingers close the distance, glove-covered palm clasping his. "Lead the way."

Namjoon grins, then tugs on your hand as you exit the station. Once outside in the frigid air, you see your breath come out in puffs of fog. You tighten your scarf around your neck and allow your companion to usher you down the sidewalk, towards a clearing in the colorful buildings of Itaewon-do.

Another block or so, and you see the direction in which he's heading. A large sign along the way reads, "Grant Hyatt Seoul Ice Rink" in bold Hangul. Your eyes widen as the realization hits you, and the excitement inside you grows. "How did you know I've wanted to go ice skating!"

Namjoon shuffles up to the ticket counter, replying over his shoulder, "Um...lucky guess?"

As he purchases your tickets, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings. The trees are glowing from the lights covering every branch and trunk. They surround the rink and give a glow from within that is so much softer and more intimate than the harsh lighting of the city. The Hyatt Hotel stands as a black silhouette against the horizon. In the opposite direction, you can see N. Seoul Tower already lit up as the afternoon lighting shifts to evening. Projectors shine shapes of glittering snowflakes across the ice, giving another layer of ambient lighting to the rink.

"I haven't been since I was a kid," you add, staring at the exterior of the open-air rink with awe. Namjoon hands you the ticket, which you use for entrance and skates before shoving it into your jacket pocket. "Have you ever been before?"

"Yeah, a...few times. Hey, what size shoe are you?" When you tell him, Namjoon grabs a pair of skates from the shelf beside the ticket booth and gestures for you to sit on the bench across from it. "It can be tricky to lace your skates properly," he commentates as he kneels down in front of you and begins to untie your boots. "It's really something you have to adjust yourself, so let me know when I'm close?"

Not having any words to respond at his sudden closeness, you nod the affirmative and watch in silence as he puts one boot to the side, slips the skate on with ease, and begins to adjust the laces like a professional. After repeating the movements with your other skate, he taps your knee and looks up at you.

"Too loose? You want them to be as tight as you can handle to keep your ankles steady."

Moving your feet, you shake your head from side to side. "A bit more. I'd hate to have Day 1 turn into a trip to the E.R."

"Definitely, nothing says ‘Christmas magic’ like an emergency room visit," he laughs, adjusting your laces as you requested. "How's that?"

"Much better, thank you."

After lacing up your skates as tight as you can handle, Namjoon stands and offers you an arm. He helps you waddle over to the entrance, gently sliding you onto the ice despite your shaky knees and flailing arms. You soon realize that it might be best to hold tight to the barrier and stick only to the periphery.

He doesn't follow you on at first. When you turn and look back for him, he waves you on. "You go ahead. I need to grab my skates first."

"Mmm fine, but if I break my neck trying to catch your ass, you're paying for ramen after. Got it?"

Namjoon gives you two thumbs ups as he lets you go onto the ice. "Loud and clear."

Eventually, you begin tugging yourself along, trying but failing to keep up with the traffic of more experienced skaters. Even compared to those half your age, or even less, you're the child on this rink.

About half-way around the rink, you spot Namjoon making his way towards the entrance. Waving your hand, your smile widens when he sees you. He waves back, nearly bumps into the person ahead of him at the gate, and you murmur to yourself, "This should be good."

Namjoon hits the ice. He's not like the barreling disaster you are, but like a graceful swan. It catches you off-guard; if anything, you expected him to fall flat on his face or tumble over a child on his way over to you on the opposite side. He needs no assistance from the railing, nor does he struggle to cross the center and come to a full stop in front of you. His skates make a graceful scraping sound, and his stance is one of a professional. Even his skates are different than yours; they're custom, and you realize that must've been what he was carrying in his backpack.

You assume the awestruck look on your face is the reason for his smirk and laughter. He does a spin for dramatic affect as he closes the distance between you. "Surprised?"

"For starters! How the hell are you so graceful? You're literally twirling around on one foot on a frictionless surface, and I can barely make a left turn!"

The platinum blond gives you a look like you're still missing the point, then extends his hand. "C'mon, I can help you more than the railing can."

"Promise not to sue me if I break your face by crashing into you?"

"Promise, now grab my hand and skate!"

Your hands in his, you take the leap of faith and separate from the barrier around the oblong rink. Namjoon slowly skates backwards, carrying you the whole way. Your eyes remain glued to your trembling feet, careful not to have the blades deviate too far out to one side or the other.

"Look at you!" he cheers, ever the positive one. "A whole two minutes on your feet."

"Shut up."

You won't deny that your progress surprises even you. Despite having to hold both his hands for the first ten minutes, then eventually one as you skate side-by-side for the following half-hour, you're more adept at skating than you thought you would be.

"You think you can try on your own for a lap?" he inquires.

Giving a hesitant nod, you let go of Namjoon's hand, saying, "Don't leave my side, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Taking a deep breath in, you push one skate out in front of the other and move yourself forward. The other follows after, and you get about twenty feet before you stumble and nearly fall face-first. Luckily, Namjoon keeps his promise and wraps his arms around your waist before you crash.

"Good try!" he exclaims, keeping his arms around your middle even after you regain your balance. "You got pretty far, actually."

You give an awkward chuckle and lay your nervous hands over his at your hip. "Maybe I'm not quite ready for a free-skate yet."

"No worries." He lets his arms drop and retakes your hand to steady you. The dimples appear next to his smile as he adjusts your beanie on your head, which had nearly fallen off in your almost-fall. "But I gotta say, you didn't have to fall for me on Day 1."

"So smooth!" You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a playful shove, only to gasp and reach back for him when he naturally skates backwards at the push. "Nevermind, I take it back. Please don't leave me in the middle of the rink."

Namjoon lets out a loud laugh, nearly doubling over as you cling to him. "You're so cute."

As you skate together, you keep getting the feeling that Namjoon has spent far more time on the ice than you previously assumed. After you get the hang of it yourself and are able to wobble along beside him without a constant hand to hold, he smiles a proud, wide smile.

"See? I knew you could do it!"

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Still nowhere near close to you."

"That's what a lot of people say," he brushes it off.

"Way to brag there, Joon," you snort, then immediately freeze in place so suddenly that you nearly fall over again. "Wait—you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Namjoon's smile shows his dimples, and they deepen with his reply. "Not a bit." The song changes, playing the symphonic piece "Noel on Ice." Namjoon's face lights up, and he turns back to you with a wink. "Watch me?"

Nodding affirmatively, you release his hand and let him skate towards the center of the rink. His gaze remains on you as he spins to a stop in the middle, then turns his gaze downwards. Arms still at his sides, and his shoulders straighten. You await with bated breath for the next note.

The melody lifts, and Namjoon's arms follow suit. Piano notes drip across the chilled air, and the violin prompts an extension of his hands upwards. Then he moves, gracefully flowing from one movement to the next, as if this has been an ice dance built into his very being. The harp and cello urge him to move faster, spinning like a dancer across their stage.

Namjoon spins into the air, fully coming off the ice. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth out of fear, but he lands it with ease, shifting into his next series of steps like a professional. Flawless and practiced, he's caught the attention of everyone at the rink. As you look around, you see everyone else focused intently on the skater. Some even have their phones out to record. Not just one or two people, either; you see at least a half dozen with their cameras trained on Namjoon.

That in particular has you perplexed. Brows pulling together, you shift your eyes back to Namjoon. The piece is nearing its close, and he's moved back to the center of the ice. Twirling in place, he's moving like a spinning top. Always in a single place, so fast you can barely see, gracefully shaving ice under him so that snowflakes fall around him. He lowers, nearly sitting as he continues to twirl on one foot. The music grows to its crescendo. Slowly, he rises up and extends his hands towards the sky.

And then it hits you.

There's a reason why his face, his voice, and his presence is so familiar to you. You couldn't put your finger on it until just now, but the way he moves on the ice like he's the only one in the room — like it's a second home — brings you back to one of the first days you had in Seoul. That first day, at the Incheon Airport, the man you saw being bombarded with press and fans. Then again on the screens in the lobby of the immigration center. And again a few nights ago on the news.

RM Nam. South Korea's pride and joy, their greatest skater, the man bound for the Winter Olympics until a training injury earlier in the year put him out for the season. You're not into sports, but even you knew him by name and the tragedy that had occurred.

That legendary skater was the one in front of you now. He hadn't mentioned it, and you didn't suspect a thing until today. While definitely a shock, you can't help but be in awe of him even more. He isn't just good on the ice — he's like nothing you've ever seen.

As the music comes to a close, Namjoon skates to a halt. His spin finishes, and he ends with a ending pose bow. Clearly out of breath and shoulders heaving, his gaze shifts to you once again. Your smile widens, and you throw your hands up as you cheer. The others around you begin to clap, but you're by far the most enthusiastic one there.

Suddenly, Namjoon's persona returns to that of a shy and humble one. He bows again in the directions of the viewers, then scurries out from the center and back to you. Eventually, those around you begin to skate once more, ignoring the fact that one of the biggest sports icons in all of Korea is among them.

Namjoon runs a hand over his bleached hair, his smile sweet and his eyes a little nervous as he approaches. You shake your head in awe, letting a surprised laugh slip out.

"Okay, I see exactly what you're doing now. You suggested ice skating because you're Olympic-level! That's totally cheating, by the way."

Namjoon skids to a stop in front of you, as graceful as his takeoff. Without thinking, you reach your hand for his, which he gladly takes. "Figured it out finally, did you?"

"Call me stupid, but I honestly didn't see it until just now." You shove his shoulder with your free hand, only encouraging his teasing reaction. "RM: Guessing that's a stage name?"

He adjusts the beanie over his hair and gives an affirmative gesture. "Yeah, mainly to protect my privacy. Skating world can get pretty intense, sometimes."

You move your chin towards his shoulder, recalling that's where the injury occurred over the summer. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally okay. I go to PT a couple times a week. Mostly healed up, just can't compete for another few months. My coach has made me swear off skating until the New Year, but I figured it was worth throwing a little extra into trying to impress a pretty girl." He tilts his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. "Did it work?"

Instead of responding verbally, you curl your finger towards you, a mischievous smile on your face. Namjoon lowers his head and skates closer to you. When he's within arm's reach, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. A giggle slips out as his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

"So... Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air and nearly falling over for the hundredth time that night.

Namjoon returns the chaste gesture to your temple as he helps you recover your balance. "Skate with me some more then?" he murmurs, adjusting your scarf around your neck with gentle fingers.

Your face hot and your stomach fluttery, you nod your response and loop your arm around his. "Only if you show me how to do that fancy twirl there at the end."

The idea has Namjoon laughing loudly. "That's my variation on the basic Scratch Spin, which took me about three months to nail perfectly in a routine."

"Then you'd better prepare to be here 'til February!"

After skating for hours, until both of you are exhausted and ready for food, Namjoon takes you to a nearby ramen shop that's close to the train station. It's a hole-in-the-wall, with less than five tables, but with ramen you're able to find a park bench and settle down there with your backs to the city lights and your eyes on the stars overhead. You each mostly in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the delicious food. You make sure to tell your companion how great the choice was, and you insist on coming back again soon.

After wrapping up the meal and seeing the late hour on your phone, Namjoon suggests you both start heading home. "Hate to have to take a bus at this hour instead of the last train," he snickers.

Fully in agreement, you let him take your hand again as the pair of you begin to walk back home. First on the train, then on the sidewalk the short distance to your apartment building.

As you turn the corner onto your short street, your apartment in sight, you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder and sigh happily. "Thank you for today. It was just...magical."

"Christmas magic?"

You nod against his jacket, wistful and content. "Definitely."

Stopping outside your apartment, you turn towards him, not letting go of his hand. Namjoon gives you a content smile as he looks at you, one where his eyes glisten at his coming words. "Then I have a chance."

"At what?"

He reaches yet again for your scarf, moving it from around your lower face so he can cradle it in his hands. "Restoring your hope in the holidays, and your hope in yourself and your choices."

"Ooof, that's getting ahead of it, I think." You bite the inside of your cheek as a small tug of anxiety and sense of being lost pulls at the back of your mind.

But Namjoon is relentless in his pursuit, and for that you're grateful. "That's why I have two more days planned."

"Already?" you laugh.

"You bet!" he exclaims. "In fact, I'll pick you up at nine on Saturday, but don't wear a dress or skirt. Are you free then?"

"For you, absolutely."

His teeth show through his grin, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyebrows. The gesture is gentle and sweet, made even more so by the warmth of his hands on your cheeks through his gloves. Nevertheless, it leaves you breathless.

After a moment of silence, he pulls away and lowers his grasp, but you crave the contact as soon as he relinquishes it. He nods towards your apartment, as if saying, "I'm not leaving until you're home safe."

You take the hint and give a tiny wave as you enter your building. "Have a great night, Joonie," you whisper through the cracked door. "And thanks again."

Namjoon waves back. "Goodnight, [Y/n]. Sleep well."

Saturday can't come quickly enough. You find yourself smiling more often, a joyful feeling in your heart as you go about your work shift and college classes. Even the smallest and insignificant things feel a little easier. The weather wasn't just cold anymore; it was full of beauty and hope and Christmas spirit.

Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he was helping you turn a corner.

Right before you're ready to head downstairs to meet Namjoon at the entrance, your phone begins to buzz. Lit up on the screen is an international number, but the area code is that of your old home. The butterflies of excitement die almost instantly, shriveling up into tiny balls of anxiety in your stomach.

Even though you ignore the call, you can't resist listening to the voicemail left behind. Putting your phone on speaker, you're shocked to hear your mother's voice wishing you a Merry Christmas, saying that she and the family miss you, and that they wished you would visit so you could clear up everything that went wrong over the summer. Your throat constricts at the sickly sweet tone; her voice always did drip in honey when she wanted something, she she was trying to manipulate her child. Between her conniving control and your father's lack of respect for privacy and personal boundaries, you remember all over again why you left.

You jump as your apartment bell rings, and the small screen by the door shows Namjoon at the entrance. "[Y/n], are you up there? I texted twice...not sure if you got those."

Looking down at your screen, you see that he's right. You have two unread texts from the last five minutes that you missed due to the unexpected caller. Shaking yourself out of it, you shoot him a quick response, close everything out, and head for the ground level.

"There you are!" Namjoon greets with a grin that almost makes you forget your mother's call.

Almost.

Forcing a smile and reply, "Sorry, I don't know why I didn't see your texts."

"No worries." He waves his hand as if to say it's nothing to worry about. "Are you okay? You seem bothered about something."

You glance up at him, unable to deny he looks slightly concerned. You mirror his laissez-faire attitude and brush it off. "Totally good. Heading to the station?"

"Not this time." Namjoon gestures towards the bike parked by the corner of the building. "You ready to go?"

"Both of us, on that? Are you sure that's safe?"

"Oh yeah! Trust me." He kicks the stand down and mounts the bike, patting the extended seat behind him. "I once rode up Namsan Mountain with Seokjin on the back of this thing, and let me tell you, he's a hell of a lot bigger than you."

Knowing he's probably right, you settle yourself on the seat behind him and wrap your arms tightly around his middle. It's probably not the most well-balanced thing in the world, but you trust Namjoon more than you buy into your fear of falling. "No skirts or dresses, huh?"

"Now you get it," he laughs, pulling out onto the bike lane on the street headed into towards the older side of the city. "Unless you'd like a wardrobe malfunction."

He picks up speed and gets to an easy pace down the street. It's fast enough to get to your location speedily but slow enough that you're able to stare at the beautiful buildings and wondrous landscape around you. Even the people have an aura of happiness caused by Christmas. Had it always been this stunning? Or had you been blind to it until just now?

"Seokjin, as in Kim Seokjin, your rival?"

"So you do watch the news," he sighs. "They aren’t portraying us as friends these days, are they?"

You shake your head and rest your chin on his shoulder. "Not really. I didn't know you were friends."

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders slightly, his voice monotone. "Yeah, well, we've known each other since we were seven, got into skating together around that time, and have been friends ever since. While I wish I didn't have to sit this one out, I couldn't be happier to have him representing South Korea at the Worlds — sorry, that's what we call the World Figure Skating Championships."

"Yeah, they're kind of painting you as opposites."

"That's just what the news does, I guess. Gossip and tabloids and fan-wars. I fell on the ice and hit my shoulder pretty hard; it had nothing to do with Seokjin. He and I talked before I left, too. We're on good terms. Most of us from South Korea are friends, actually. We only get represented as enemies because it's a competition. But a lot of times we're on the same flights, in the same hotels, in the same training areas, you get the idea."

Namjoon pulls up to a stoplight at a near empty intersection, waiting silently for it to shift colors. "Is that what you meant by change of career?" you inquire.

"You're observant," he chuckles.

You turn to rest your cheek on his back. "For what it's worth, and keep in mind that I don't know the first thing about figure skating or your injury or anything like that, but as someone on the outside looking in, you're still so talented. Last week, when you were skating alone, I couldn't tell at all you were injured, and you looked like you were really enjoying it. I don't know if that means anything to you coming from a novice, but if you're still in love with skating and want to get back out there, I think you should go for it. You're still spectacular to watch, Joonie."

There's a beat of silence, but then Namjoon glances over his shoulder and winks at you. "Would you come see me perform live if I did?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you state, "Why not?"

He laughs at your silly expression, then begins to move the bike again as the light finally shifts. "That actually means a lot, [Y/n]. Thank you."

The rest of the ride is quiet, at least until you begin to hear the sounds of a bustling outdoor market. Namjoon turns the final corner, and you're elated with the stone street in an older part of Seoul. Vendors in various booths stretch out in every direction. Some sell food or drink, some sell trinkets or clothing, some even sell vintage books or vinyls or movies. Every nook and cranny has something special to offer. The sights, smells and sounds bring an enormous smile to your face as Namjoon steadies the bike to a stop beside the bicycle rack.

You hop off with his help, nearly bouncing up and down from excitement as he parks and locks his bike on the stand. "This is amazing!" Turning to him, you catch him off-guard with a tight embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him down to you.

Namjoon seems amused by your eager reaction, and he pulls you closer to him. "I thought you would like it. There's nothing quite like Christmas than a market."

After letting him go, you press a kiss to his cheek as you lower back down to your level. Namjoon's hands tenderly cradle your face, just like last time, only today he's glancing away from your eyes and down to your lips. As your heartbeat quickens, you pull him back to you, fingers grasping at his winter jacket.

His voice is deep and soft as he asks, "May I...?"

Your cheeks flush as you nod your approval. Namjoon's dimples deepen as he lowers his face to yours, barely brushing his lips against yours in the gentlest kiss you've ever had. You close the distance, tugging at his jacket so he moves closer. He gives a tiny laugh against your mouth, then follows your guidance to deepen the kiss. One hand slips back to your hair; he gently plays with the strands.

A moment later, and you're sighing as he pulls away, both light-headed and light-hearted. Namjoon smiles down at you, gives you a surprising second peck, then pulls back with a chuckle. "You're a really cute kisser, y'know that?"

You drop your head and hide your face in the front of his coat. "Shut up."

Your companion's laughter echoes in the air around you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and places his lips briefly on the top of your head. "Are you hungry? I know where we can get the absolute best Tteok-kkochi."

Eventually you lift your head and nod, feeling your stomach rumble at the thought of rice cake skewers. Namjoon moves his arm from around your shoulders, taking your hand instead, and ushers you into the first aisle of the Christmas market.

If it was magical from the outside, it's even more so from within. Somewhere in the distance, you hear holiday music playing. Not the commercial Christmas songs you're used to, but instrumental music that plays perfectly with the sounds of the market crowds. You're awestruck by every single booth you pass, and Namjoon promises to take you back to all of them after you grab a bite to eat.

Which are well worth the walk into the interior of the market. The Tteok-kkochi are cooked to perfection, drowned in a sauce, and by far the best you've ever had. Even after circling back to the booths you missed on the way, you beg Namjoon to lead you back to get another set.

"I've found heaven," you exclaim dramatically, taking the next two from the cook behind the counter and hanging one to your companion. "I'll never have rice cake skewers this good again."

After paying, you spot a section of the market decorated with lights and colorful orbs, much like the decorations you're used to seeing in the West. "Can we go over there next?"

Namjoon spots where you're pointing and eagerly agrees. The pair of you make your way towards the greenery and decor, amazed at the giant Christmas trees decorated to perfection on the periphery of the market.

"That's a massive tree," he gasps, staring upwards. "Are those normal in America?"

"Maybe at a mall or outside a hotel or something," you reply, equally as taken back. "I've never seen one that big in person in a long time."

As you peruse the Christmas section of the market, slipping from booth to booth as the clock strikes Noon, Namjoon asks, "Have you decorated your apartment at all? I know it can be kinda hard to find stuff in Korea like you're used to."

"Not really," you admit in passing. "Between work and school and, y'know, starting a new life in a foreign country, the holidays kinda fell on the back-burner."

Namjoon taps your shoulder, ushering your attention towards the old, American Christmas movies booth a few spots away. You gasp and rush over with renewed excitement, eyes scanning eagerly over the shelves. They have just about everything, from the classics like "It's A Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Carol" to movies you grew up on like "Home Alone" and "Elf." The more you sort through the outdated DVDs, the bigger your smile gets.

"What's your favorite Christmas movie?" Namjoon asks, casually looking through the Christmas vinyls on the booth next to the movies.

"Without a doubt, Ron Howard's 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas.'"

"The one with Jim Carrey?"

"You know it!"

He laughs. "Yeah, my little sister and I watched it a lot when we were kids."

Your head perks up at the mention of a sister. "I didn't know you had siblings, either."

Namjoon nods. "Yeah, she's in college, too. Studying to be a psychologist."

"She sounds amazing."

"Yeah, the family is very proud. I know I am." He pulls out a vinyl for one of Frank Sinatra's Christmas records. "Do you have siblings?"

At the question, your gaze shifts back to the movies, hands preoccupied with finding the perfect one. "I do. A brother and a sister."

"Older?"

"Yeah..."

"What are they like?"

"A lot like my parents," you sigh, moving on to another shelf, turning your back to your companion. "Which is part of the reason I left, so..."

Namjoon senses your anxiety around the topic and rests a hand on your shoulder as he passes by. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize--"

You cut him off with a casual wave of your hand. "It's no worries, really." Spotting the record under his arm, you ask, "Find one you like?"

While he doesn't seem to buy your act, he lets the conversation go and holds up the vinyl for "Tales of Noel on Ice" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, as performed by the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra.

"You don't already have that one?" you gawk in surprise.

"I don't actually," he admits bashfully. "The title composition is one of my best free skate performances, and I have a record player at home, so why not?" He gestures to the movies. "Did you find one?"

"Oh, I don't need one! I was just looking. I don't even have a DVD player anymore."

"I do, so pick one out and maybe we can watch it sometime."

You shake your head at him, trying to subdue a chuckle. "A record player and a DVD player? You're so odd."

"But to your benefit," he reminds you with a wink, pulling out a single movie nearest him. It happens to be your favorite with Jim Carrey in all his hilarious glory on the front.

Cocking an eyebrow, you give a tiny round of applause at the luck of pulling that film out of all the others. "Well, you're going to have to invite me over sometime then."

"You can count on it."

For the next couple hours, Namjoon and you make your way through the entire market, hitting all the shops that interest and intrigue you. All the while, you talk about a plethora of things and get to know each other letter. For instance, you find out that he was born in Ilsan, not too far from where you are now, and that he hates seafood just about as much as mint chocolate. You also find out that he looks like his mother, who was the one that got him into skating to begin with. And to no one's surprise, Namjoon is actually very funny. Not only is he smart, athletic, and good looking — which alone would have caught your attention — he's got a wicked sense of humor to top it all off.

Likewise, he learns more about you. You tell him about the city you grew up in, the friends you had in high school, what you studied before you came to Korea. You tell him that along with your studies, you're really invested in writing and try to make time for that as well. It hasn't been so easy since the move, but you're hoping to get back to it in the new year.

As you approach mid-afternoon, and the final leg of the market, your phone begins to buzz. Your screen lights up with the same foreign number as before. Instantly, both your feet and your heart stop. Your shoulders tense up, and you turn to a blissfully unaware Namjoon, saying, "Hey, I gotta take this. You go on ahead."

"Are you sure?" he asks, the person in front of him not the same happy-go-lucky one as before.

You give him a nod of reassurance. "I'll catch up."

Before he can reply, you've turned and moved towards the massive Christmas trees, where there's an opening and the crowds are quieter. Despite what you told him, you don't intend on answering. Whoever is on the other end of that line, be it your mother or father or siblings, you want nothing to do with them. You do, however, want this to be over. You promise yourself to hear the message, block them, and then go run an errand after the holidays to get a new number.

After the call drops, you wait with an anxious feeling building in your stomach. Maybe they didn't leave a message. Maybe it wasn't your family after all. Maybe —

A soft ping alerts you that you have a new message. Selecting it, you raise your phone to your ear and hear your father this time. He repeats all of what your mother said, only with a layer of frustration and authority that she didn't use. He's borderline cruel as he spouts the same old lies that you're trying to unlearn; it's your fault, it's because of you, you're the cause of it. What it is, depends on the day. This time is has to do with your family not being the same and their world falling to pieces. He uses colorful sentences, well-crafted insults, but all you hear is blame, blame, blame.

Tears prick your eyes as the voicemail ends, and you realize you should've just deleted the message when you had the chance. A small part of you still hoped they would change, even after all this time, but you see now that it's not possible.

They will never change, and neither will you.

The pit of depression weighs down in your stomach, and loneliness tingles at the back of your throat. Why now? Out of all the times, out of all the days, why are you feeling these things now? You're out having an adventure with a man who you really like, and who you know likes you, in a city you now call home. You're far from any sadness or trauma or family or friends that once brought you down. You've left your past behind. You'd started to feel like there was hope in the holidays and in the future again, like the last year was worth the pain, like everything was starting to turn around.

But suddenly, that snake is wrapped around you again, pulling you back into old habits and old ways of thinking. It's grabbed on tight and is pulling you back into the dark, away from people you care about, away from people who care about you.

Even as you glance up at Namjoon a few stalls away, completely naïve to the painful flickers going through your mind, you feel the need to draw back. Pull away. Stay away. Go back to the security of the known, of the sad, of the lonely. It's warm and comfy, even if it hurts.

Clenching your fists, you try to silence the noise in your brain by shaking your head. The thoughts only grow louder, and the pit in your stomach gets heavier. You haven't felt a depressive episode like this in a long time. You thought they were long gone, especially now, especially with him...

"[Y/n]? Are you okay?"

Looking up, you see Namjoon's approaching you in the clearing. One hand carries the movie and vinyl he purchased for you both, but the other is outstretched towards you. While you don't pull away from his touch, you taste bile in the back of your throat.

"I—I need to go home," you mutter. "I'm starting to feel sick."

"Oh, okay, hold up I'll go get my bike and I'll take you home."

Feeling your breath quicken, you pull your gaze from Namjoon and nod shakily. The walk back to the bike rack is silent, even the crowd outside fades to a low background murmur. Namjoon places the purchased items in his bicycle carrier, then mounts it.

You follow suit, regret beginning to pile up inside you. Running isn't going to help anything, and you know he must be hurt and confused. But to you, the only thing you can do right now to protect yourself is get away from it all and go back to the place where you feel safest.

Tears burn your eyes as you curl up against him. Namjoon pedals speedily to your apartment, making the trip faster than last time. When he pulls up to the curb, you hop off without a word.

"Do you need me to walk you up?" he offers, worry causing his brows to pull together.

You shake your head and put distance between you both. "No, I'm fine. I'll...text you later, okay?"

Without another word, you turn and enter through the front, leaving Namjoon behind on the other side. Trekking up the stairs, through the door, past a mewling Mochi, you curl up on your bed and let yourself finally feel all the sadness piled up inside.

Fifteen minutes later, the waterworks flow when your phone lights up from an incoming text. Knowing exactly who it is, you grab it and text a swift message to Namjoon.

"I'm so sorry I left so suddenly. And that I ruined our day. Not feeling like myself."

"That's okay. I just got home, so I wanted to check up on you. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Do you need anything?"

"No, but thank you."

"Okay... Maybe we can try again some other time? I'd hate to let you down on Day 2."

Unable to reply, the phone turns black and you let it fall onto the duvet.

The days leading up until Christmas Eve were long and full of guilt. You closed the café for the final time the Monday before the holiday, and with no classes to attend, you mainly stayed inside and watched the snow fall outside your tiny apartment window. Mochi kept you company, but even the small fur ball could sense that something had changed for the worse. Even she had gotten used to you being happier this December; you'd taken two steps back while attempting to take a single step forward.

Every morning, you'd spot Namjoon riding his bike past your apartment on his way to the rink where he trains. Every day, he'd stop and gaze up at the building, never sure which frosty window you were behind but melancholy just the same. He'd call and text; the former, you would never answer, but the latter, you did sporadically. Mainly at night when you thought he wouldn't be up.

He usually was.

"Was it something I did?" he asked that Tuesday before Christmas. "Did I move too fast? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No. It's not you."

"Then tell me what it is. I don't want to come across as pushy, but I thought we were getting closer...and then you pull back and hide from me. From everyone. I know I don't know everything about your past or what happened before you came to Seoul, but I promised you three adventures. I still have one to make good on before Christmas."

"Joonie..."

You couldn't bring yourself to write more. The tiny part of your brain that told you that maybe this can work, maybe it's worth trying, maybe things can be different now, it was silenced by the overwhelming majority of your mind. It remembered everything from your past, from the hurt and pain, from the loneliness and fear. Despite your wish to make things right again, it was drowned out by the pure terror of being wronged again.

"Don't shut me out. Please. Let me show you things can be different now. You don't have to go at this alone, [Y/n]. Not anymore."

Pushing down the urge to cry yet again, you move your fingers to type a swift and cold reply. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time, Namjoon. I really am. I thought I was ready, but it's clear that I'm not. Please, spend Christmas with your family. Don't waste any more time on me."

And that was the end of it. You muted his notifications, ignored his calls and texts, and eventually he went silent. The day before Christmas Eve was the first you didn't hear from him, and it was the first day you felt like you'd truly fucked things up for good.

On Christmas Eve, you got an unexpected call from Lisa. Deciding to take a break from staring at an empty Word document with ever-growing frustration, you answered the call, only to be bombarded by Lisa's rambling.

"Oh, thank god! I didn't think you'd answer! I need a huge favor, and I hate to bother on such short notice on Christmas Eve, but this really cannot wait and I'll love you forever if you—!"

"—Okay, okay," you chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

"I need you to run back to the café and grab something for me. Jungkook is on his way there, but he doesn't have a key."

"What could you possibly have left that's this important?"

"My fucking credit card."

"You've been out of town for two weeks and only just now realized you left your card?"

She heaves a frustrated sigh. "Please, just, do me this favor?"

Rolling your eyes, you pull yourself from the sofa and grab your keys on the counter. "Fine, but you owe me."

"Yes, yes, I know."

You leave the apartment in a hurry, taking the next train to the café. In less than fifteen minutes, you're at the front door. Lisa assures you that Jungkook is on his way, only twenty minutes away. After unlocking it, you make yourself at home in the lobby with a fresh white chocolate mocha. It reminds you of Yeongu, and you smile at the thought.

After about a half hour, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Lisa's text has you halting in place.

"I'm sorry to do this. You didn't really give me another choice. I crossed a line, but I think you'll thank me in the end."

Your fingers are swift typing a response. "What did you do?"

"You remember how you gave me a spare key in case you ever got locked out? Or in case you were kept at school too long and needed someone to feed Mochi?" A pause, then she adds, "He came to Busan, [Y/n]. He asked me in person what to do. Do you know how out of the way that was for him? Give him another chance. Please."

"You didn't."

"I did. I'm sorry, but you've talked about how you pull away when you get close to people. It's gone on for almost a week. It's Christmas Eve. You can hate me all you want later, but please. Go home, kiss and make up, then try to salvage Christmas."

A huff of air exits your nostrils as it hits you. Lisa's given the spare to Namjoon. Jungkook was never on his way; this was all a rouse to get you out of your apartment long enough for him to get inside. But to what end?

"He's good for you; I can tell that much already. If you ever were to give someone the benefit of the doubt and place your broken pieces in someone's hands, he's the best you're gonna find."

A pang of truth rocks through you, and while you have still a semblance of willpower, you shoot her a swift text and rush back for the station. "I'm still mad at you, but we'll talk later. I need to get home."

"Go get him!"

The series of stairs up to your apartment never felt so long. Out of breath and winded from rushing home, you find the door unlocked. Pushing through, the place you left less than an hour ago isn't the same as it was before.

The entrance hallway is glittering, multi-colored strands of twinkle lights hanging along the periphery. Fake snow lines the trim, and paper snowflakes are tossed across the furniture. Each one is unique and hand-crafted.

As you venture further, a rainbow array aurora covers your living room and kitchen. There must be at least a dozen lengthy strands of Christmas lights hung across the few items you've unpacked, circled around the sealed boxes, and framing every window and door. Fake icicles hang on the windowsill, fake greenery lays where curtains should be, and a small Christmas tree stands at your height in the corner.

Jovial, English holiday music plays softly in the background. And humming along to the tune of The First Noel, Namjoon stands with bent-back facing you. He's finishing his final touches on the tree, ensuring that each sparkling orb and shimmering tinsel is perfect. He adjusts the star on the top with a smile to himself, oblivious still to your entrance.

For a moment, you stand in silence and watch him. Your heart is heavy but still beating. If anything, seeing him in the midst of such a sweet and selfless act makes it flutter. Even after cutting his well-planned adventure short, ignoring him for over a week, and telling him to stop speaking to you, he's still here. He came back, and he's trying to prove to you the truth he's been spouting all along.

Eventually, you blink out of your stupor and clear your throat to alert him to your presence. Namjoon turns on his heel, elbow grazing the tree just enough to send it toppling backward. He curses and lunges for it, grabbing it by the star just in time to keep it upright. His characteristic clumsiness prompts a snicker from you, one that you attempt to hide with your hand over your mouth.

Namjoon adjusts the tree and turns back to you with a bashful expression. His lips pull into a side-smile, a single dimple popping out in the process. "H—Hi..."

"Hi," you repeat back to him, letting your hand fall. Your eyes follow suit and drift to your damp, snow-covered shoes.

A beat of silence passes where neither of you knows what to say next. Then the both of you break it at once, words tumbling over each others several times in a row. You laugh to yourself and look back up at him; Namjoon smiles down at you, shaking his head at the awkward reunion.

He gestures silently to you. "Go ahead."

You clear your throat, then say, "I...I wanted to say that I owe you an apology."

He shakes his head firmly, extending his hands in a olive-branch manner. "No, you don't—"

Your feet move back, putting space between you both. "—Can I explain and finish, please? Just...hold your forgiveness until then." At your request, your companion falls silent, letting his hands fall respectfully at his side. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, you re-calibrate your mind and prepare for your admission.

"There's a lot you don't know about me yet," you begin softly. "Ah, shit — That came out super mean. I mean, you know a lot about me. You kinda know why I moved to Korea, the situation with my family back in America, that whole thing. You know where I work and what I'm studying. You know my favorite drink of all time is a white chocolate mocha, and that my favorite customer is barely four feet tall. You know Lisa is my shield at work, and that we've become pretty close in less than a year. You know I'm a homebody and that my favorite thing to do by myself is play with Mochi and watch dramas."

You release a huff of air and raise your eyes to meet his, a wistful smile tugging the corners of your lips. "But there's a lot I haven't told you — or anyone for that matter. I've gone through...a lot of shit this year. When I moved to Seoul, my mental health was in the trash, and my self worth was in shambles. I'd just been shoved from everything I'd ever known into a foreign place."

When you pause for a moment, Namjoon's small and steady voice pipes up with a single inquiry. "I thought you left willingly?"

"I did," you state. "I've wanted to move to South Korea for a long, long time. Since I can remember. But I never thought I'd lose everything before then." Tears prick your eyes, and you lift your sleeve to wipe your nose. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Namjoon gestures towards the small sofa, and you follow his lead. You perch on a single cushion, legs folded underneath you. He takes the adjacent one, far enough to for personal space but still close enough to rest a hand on your knee. This time, you don't push him away as you catch your breath. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, I do, but maybe not now." You take another breath in and focus your thoughts. "I didn't mean to start all that with the intention of being the victim and making you feel bad for me. I...I told you that because I wanted you to know that there are reasons why I push people away. I've been on a journey to heal that trauma all year, but it doesn't happen overnight. But even with that, I never should have just left like that. I never should have ignored your calls and texts. I shouldn't have made you feel like you were the bad guy, or that any of this was your fault, or that you did anything wrong. You were—"

You struggle to find a word that fits what you're truly feeling, one that doesn't feel overwhelming, but the only one that comes to mind is... "You are perfect, Joonie. You're sweet and kind. You treat me like a normal person that's worth something, and I think part of me was scared of that. Especially around the holidays, I feel very fragile, and I run from things I think might hurt me."

"I would never, ever hurt you." Namjoon flashes a soft and empathetic smile. "Can I ask why you got spooked so suddenly? You looked off when I picked you up, and I know you said it was nothing, but..."

You pull your phone from your pocket and play the message for him, the one from your mother. And when he remains silent, you play the second from your father. While he listens, you watch him. The hand on your knee turns to a fist, and his jaw clenches. Part of you is relieved that someone else is reacting negatively to the messages, yet another signal to you that your choice is validated.

"I got the first that morning, but the second right before I left," you murmur. "I didn't respond, and I've blocked the numbers, but I've felt unstable since then. That's why I shut down, and why I left."

He nods, then turns off the phone. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. That's emotional abuse and manipulation. No one should have to go through that."

"I know, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for doing that and for hurting you. It was wrong, and I don't deserve you coming back again and again...even if you concocted this up with Lisa."

At your light-hearted comment, he chuckles and bites the inside of his cheek. The fist on your knee loosens back, his fingers tapping gently against your skin. "She told you, did she?"

"Yep," you chirp. "I'll thank her later."

After a moment, Namjoon's eyes flicker back up to yours. For a moment, he almost looks worried. "Are you mad?"

"Meh." For a moment, you're able to hold your composure long enough for your companion's eyes to widen in horror. "I'm just kidding," you relent, and Namjoon looks visibly relieved. "How could I be mad? Look at all this!" You gesture to the magical space around you. "It looks like a wonderland in here."

A crimson hue fills his face, and he's all of a sudden very shy about the accomplishment. "I wanted you to feel like you had a Christmas, even if it was just for one night."

Leaning your head against the back cushion of the sofa, you stare at him with a bittersweet smile on your face. "Are you mad at me?"

He shakes his head, expression more adamant about that than anything he's said so far. "Not a bit. I was worried, yes, and maybe a little disappointed. I think most of that was tied to the fact that I thought we were on the up-and-up. I saw you slowly opening up and having a good time."

"Gahhh," you groan, eyes fluttering shut with frustration at your past self. "I really fucked it up, didn't I?"

"Not really." His hand slips up your knee, and he weaves his fingers through yours. The squeeze he gives and the gaze he locks gives emphasis to his next words. "I know I don't know everything about you, just like you don't know everything about me, but I'd be lying if I said you aren't the most joyful thing I've experienced in a while. Being around you makes me happy, and the fact that this has you so down makes me want to be there for you — if you want me to. I don't blame you for anything you've done, so you have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly, after hearing those messages and some of what you've been dealing with this year, I know I would've reacted the same way. But, if it helps your peace of mind, then I forgive it all."

"Thank you," you whisper, trying to blink away the tears pricking your eyes.

Namjoon's gaze softens, and he tugs on your hand. "C'mere." You scoot closer, and he pulls you the rest of the way onto his lap and into his arms. Your legs dangle off the side of his thighs, and your head nestles in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. One hand holds tightly to yours while the other circles your waist, dipping under your sweater to rub soothing circles on your skin. Your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him even closer than before.

"Sometimes terrible, inexplicable things happen to us and it takes us months — even years — to process." Namjoon's timbre is quiet and deep, rumbling against your ear as he speaks. "Everyone goes through that, even me. But it's so much harder to face it alone. Sometimes it takes a lonely, awful Christmas to see just how out of sorts you are. I don't know everything, but if you'll have me, I'd like to stick around to find out."

"You'd still be willing to get to know me more, even after seeing me at my worst?"

"Jagi, if this is your worst, then I would hate to introduce you to sixteen-year-old Kim Namjoon. That boy was a train-wreck."

Letting a watery smile show as laughter escapes your lungs, you reach upward and wrap your arms around Namjoon's neck. He pulls you closer, hands splayed on your back and waist. A sense of relief, and something like home, floods through you. Burying your face in his neck, you allow yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. Ever patient, your companion just holds you close as you come back around.

"Enough with the heavy," he breaks the silence, pulling back and wiping his thumb across your cheeks. Nodding towards the front of the space, where your television is, you follow his line of sight. "I brought your movie and the player. If you're okay with me staying over, do you wanna watch it?"

Leaning forward, you bring your face closer to his, murmuring, "I'd love that."

Namjoon closes the final distance. Both your eyes and his flutter shut as your lips meet in the middle. You tug on the collar of his sweater, encouraging him closer as his arms tighten around your waist. In a burst of bravery, you run your hand through his platinum hair and nip at his bottom lip. He inhales abruptly, and you giggle in response.

"You're gonna be the death of me, [Y/n] [Y/l/n]," he laughs, eventually pulling back to catch his breath.

You grin mischievously at him, biting your lower lip. "Still sure you wanna stay?"

"Definitely. Oh! And I placed an order for takeout, which should be here any minute."

You burst into laughter, resting your forehead against his shoulder as joy fills your body. "You really put all your chips on me coming to my senses, didn't you?" When he shrugs, you add, "What if I had said no?"

"Then I would've been eating for two alone in my apartment," he groans.

You shake your head at his antics and playfully poke the dimple in his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

His smile deepens at your words and gesture. “Merry Christmas, [Y/n].”

Just as he promised, food arrives at the front of your apartment a few minutes later. Namjoon hops up and volunteers to get it from the entrance, and you pop the movie into the player. Silencing the music on his phone, you select the "Play" option from the menu, and the credits begin to play over Anthony Hopkins' narration as your companion returns.

He serves up the food and delivers it to you on the sofa. With a rumbling stomach, you take it gratefully. Just as the singing begins, Namjoon settles into the seat beside you, hooking your leg over his so you maintain closeness as you devour the takeout. Neither of you have seen it in so long, and thus both of you are laughing whole-heartedly at every joke and hilarious mannerism.

After the meal is finished and the dishes are on the makeshift box side-table, you find yourself slowly slipping closer to your companion. Namjoon gladly pulls you closer, and by the middle of the movie, you're back in his lap. With the blanket wrapped around you both, his chin on your head, his arms around you with one hand tracing absent-minded patterns on the skin above your pants, you know you've never been more at home in Seoul than you are right now.

"I'm sorry I ruined your grand plans for Day 3," you murmur after a while.

Namjoon's hand on your waist halts, then changes to a reassuring, tapping pattern. "Be glad you did; this is way better than anything I had planned."

"While I have to agree, what did you have planned?"

You can hear his smile in his voice. "Well, honestly I hadn't decided between Lotte World or Seoullo 7017. You said you hadn't been to either of those, and at Christmas, they're magical. All the lights, the music, it's an absolute winter wonderland."

"Well, if I get to see you skate live, then we can definitely go to those after the solar New Year. Maybe...Maybe even call it a date?"

Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, one that makes you grin to yourself and sigh peacefully. His reply is loud and clear, a promise reverberating through his chest. "I think that sounds perfect."

As the movie continues, you relax and think back on everything that's happened this year. All your concerns and worries you had a few weeks prior, at the beginning of December, they all seem so far away now. Even those anxieties brought up recently feel as if they're resolved. he sense is comparable to that of a chapter ending and a new one is being written. And this time, you're the one holding the pen.

At the resolution of the film, you realize that what Namjoon set out to do over a series of adventures truly did come to fruition. Be it luck or fate or whatever you want to call it, he really has given you that spark of hope in the Christmas season. It's something you thought you'd lost, or perhaps you'd left it in America along with many other things. He's brought it back to life, and so much more along with it.

All that magic, all that wonder, all that love and hope and joy — Namjoon is right. It hasn't disappeared from the world, and you haven't outgrown the things you used to feel during the holiday season. It's all still right here, in front of you and around you, waiting to be taken with grateful hands and heart. Maybe it's not in the form it used to be, nor is it in the place it used to be, but neither are you. Both you and your home have changed this year. But despite it all, you are still here, still striving to love yourself and your new life, still trying to let the magic find you.

And this year, because of a wonderful person named Kim Namjoon, you had all the love and magic you could ever need.

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cjstalkingstarwarsagain · 4 years ago

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hi! i’ve recently decided to rewatch all the star wars movies and take notes on them and then,,, share them with you. so if you’re even mildly interested in my star wars opinions, here you go :)

i’ll divide it into a couple categories so,,,

well start with rogue one!!

shit that made me giggle

"oh look, here’s lyra back from the dead. it’s a miracle."

everything K2 says and does. i love him and he’s perfect.

i love the continuous attempts by K2 to appear imperial and how he fails every time. not a single storm trooper or officer ever believes him when he starts running his mouth.

so sorry but bohdi getting his cable caught and trying to shake it loose is such an adorably human moment. makes me giggle every time.

i honestly thought this section would be longer, this movie made me laugh a bunch.

stuff i don’t like or doesn’t make sense

why does jyn start believing in the rebellion? there’s no indication that she cared before they found her. there’s no real turning point that we can see. she just,,, suddenly is really into this shit. which is strange because the only reason she ever joined was because she was given a non-choice (either help or get put back in prison). i guess i can kinda see how her father dying could have changed her, but we see none of that on the ship after his death. we just get to the rebel council and all of a sudden she’s the poster girl for rebellion.

saw seems really stable at the beginning of the film, so why did he go seemingly crazy and paranoid? it’s probably explained in the novelization but that’s no excuse to just have a character go crazy with really no explanation or backstory.

that being said, a lot of the character development is pretty lacking. i don’t think i’d care about these characters nearly as much if i wasn’t already a star wars fan.

video game cut scene style general tarkin

bor gullet is supposed to make you lose your mind but bohdi was pretty much fine after like,,, a day

how does the death star,,,, move?? like i know it can but has that ever been explained? is it like little thrusters? like the ones you can see in real life to stabilize things in space? there’s nothing i can visually see. i’m not mad about it i just wanna know.

why does saw insist on staying behind? why doesn’t he come and help?? it would have been so easy to just leave but he insists on staying behind and just watching as death inches closer. i think it doesn’t make sense because we know *so little* about his character. give me more on him, make me understand.

since james earl jones is getting older, vader sounds older. was there??? nothing the audio or editing department could have done about that??? not super mad about this one just because darth vader is really cool and i’ll never really complain too much about darth vader screen time.

when the fuck did jyn become a motivational speaker??

my one gripe about pretty much every star wars movie is the sheer number of times people climb through huge shafts and jump around and shit and they’re always *fine*. no way they wouldn’t fall to their deaths in any normal situations.

can someone?? check the science of the hammerhead corvette?? because there’s no gravity or weight in space right?? theoretically all you gotta do is give that star destroyer a bump and it’s spinning out, right?? i know absolutely nothing about space physics but i gotta be right. maybe i’m wrong. i dunno. i’m dumb as rocks. hear that baby girl?? it’s the spare change rattling around in my skull. i got pennies where my brain is.

absolutely no fucking shot cassian survived a blaster hit AND that fall AND climbed out. my belief simply cannot be suspended that much.

DUDE I FORGOT THAT THE DEATH STAR CAN TRAVEL THROUGH HYPERSPACE HOW DOES WORK SOMEONE TELL ME!!!!!

why doesn’t vader just,,, force grab the plans. i know he sees them. why not just force stop the guy running away with them??

final note now that the movie is over. yes, it’s got a lot of issues. the plot is ehhh at times. the trailers don’t match up with the movie shots AT ALL (i wanna know what happened behind the scenes with that). the character development is lacking in many major ways (that has not stopped me from loving these characters though, but that’s the autism talking). but like i’ll say in the "stuff i liked" section, this is such a damn cool movie. i was once talking about it with an older friend of mine and he said seeing rogue one in theaters felt like watching the original trilogy in theaters back in the 70s and 80s and honestly that’s such a compliment. i love this movie, i really do.

just cool shit,,, you know the vibe

DEATH TROOPERS

krennic is probably one of my favorite imperial officers. for some reason he just really sells it for me, the evil and manipulation that borderlines in try hard. and (i mention it more later because you see it more in the "choke on your aspirations" scene) beyond that just the fact that he’s?? a guy. just a dude. at any given moment he could be described as just hanging out. but he’s trying so hard (for whatever reason, we don’t know his evil motivations) to be this big bad evil dude. and it’s just interesting to see someone *trying* to be imperial and *trying* to be evil, as opposed to a tarkin-type character who’s just naturally an asshole.

i love the rogue one main theme. don’t even talk to me. it’s so cool.

it’s cool to see more about the birth of the death star, seeing other people learn about it. sort of realizing the fear and terror that everyone must have been experiencing. especially after being a star wars fan for so long and being like, yeah it’s the death star it’s just a staple of this universe. it reminds me that "oh god this was a planet killer and this was the first time something like that had ever even been heard of".

there’s gorgeous visuals in this movie.

i like the "i’m wanted in 12 systems" guy cameo (did you know his name is cornelius? i googled it)

when the storm trooper asks for papers?? like fuck yeah show me what life is like under imperial rule. give me that shit.

chirrut is so badass i’ll never get over it

"i’m one with the force and the force is with me" i’m eating that shit UP! salivating over the meal in front of me. i really want more exploration of the guardians and jedi worship in general. like gimme that weird funky space religion.

seeing an at-st just walk around a town. i dunno i like that shit.

K2 saying sorry for hitting cassian. i’m so soft on this robot.

"clear of hostiles,,,, ONE HOSTILE"

jyn stepping in front of K2 to protect him after she (not ten minutes ago) made the comment “i’m just afraid they’ll miss you and hit me”. jyn,,, your soft side is showing,,,,

i like the cool machine blaster that baze has. it’s awesome seeing different blaster styles when originally the only variation we really saw was chewie’s cross bow style blaster.

i really wanna see more of baze and cirruit. i wanna know what happened that made baze stop believing. i wanna know how they met. i wanna see them evolve and grow together.

i like that jyn argues that 16 is too young to be a solider (she’s 21 in the movie). i like that she’s mad that she’s young and has been put in a position to protect herself and then later save the galaxy. (for context: luke and leia were 19 in a new hope. anakin is 19 in attack of the clones, ~22 when he became darth vader, and rey is 19 in force awakens. stop putting the fate of the galaxy in the hands of people who are *barely* adults)

the testing of the death star is awesome. love seeing wicked cool space weapons. when it blocks out the sun? ominous as hell fuck yeah.

it’s interesting that baze says cassian doesn’t look like a killer, that "he has the face of a friend", when one of the first things we saw him do was kill a man. i think about that a lot. does that say more about baze’s ability to read people or does it say more about who cassian is deep down, beyond what he’s done to serve the rebellion?

cassian’s relationship with death and killing is very interesting. you could argue that cassian is just as brainwashed and deep in the rebellion as anyone imperial. i really hope it’s something that gets explored in his stand alone show. he mentions he’s lost everything and has been a rebel since he was 6. gimme cassian andor backstory.

"careful not to choke on your aspirations director" is probably some of the most dramatic-anakin-skywalker shit i’ve ever seen vader do

i like seeing rebel infighting. so often it seems there’s always general consensus about what the rebellion wants, but it’s good to see that they don’t always agree on how to rebel.

i love the consistent "found family" rebel alliance shit in these movies. it makes my dick so hard.

ARTOO AND THREEPIO CAMEO FUCK ME UP THOSE ARE MY BOYS

okay i totally get that the empire is evil, i really do, but rogue one (and lots of moments in the sequels) really reminds me how fucking cool some of their shit is. like death troopers? imperial droids like K2? the base on scarif? vader’s castle on mustafar and his bacta tank?? fuck me UP.

i loved hearing the troopers doing their dumb small talk about the T-15s on the beach.

i think ben mendelssohn is perfect for the role of krennic, no notes there. he’s just like?? a guy and he’s doing everything he can to fit into this evil role and he just wants to be like this big bad imperial boy on campus. i don’t know. i don’t have the words right now to express how fuckin awesome he is. i’ll write an essay about it later.

THE AT-AT COMING OUT OF THE MIST?? CHRIST ON A BIKE. LAY ME TO REST. LOVE IT.

fucking love me some female fighter pilots. the women of star wars are so badass. doing justice to my return of the jedi ladies.

i think a whole lot about jyn giving K2 a blaster. the way he takes it and looks at it and holds it so gently. i think that’s the first time a human has trusted him with a blaster since his reprogramming. he seems so appreciative of that trust.

i love seeing the faces of baze and the other rebels when a few of the x-wings show up and take down an at-at. i’m so very soft for the relationship between these rebels. not to be cliche, but the *hope* that they have. it’s so moving. this movie is just so full of that quintessential rebel feeling.

hey so i’m super emotional about the death of K2 okay? because in the novelizations you learn that in the last second k2 had before a full shut down, he ran a simulation where cassian lived and even though he knew it was impossible, it made him happy. FURTHERMORE K2 is very well known and his name is often listed along side jyn’s in terms of talking about the history of the rebellion.

chirrut and baze’s deaths are so important to me. we know they’re best friends, and even though we don’t know how long they’ve been together, they love each other so deeply. chirrut being the path for baze to return to the force? touching. i so wish these dumb force husbands could have had more screen time. baze calling chirrut back?? chirrut telling him to find him in the force?? baze looking to see the man he loves one more time before he dies??reminds me of the silken quote about dying in your best friends arms because it’s all you know. anywho,,, if star wars canon has any mercy then these two lovers are force ghosts together rn. don’t care how you feel or whether you "ship" them or not. love comes in so many forms and they encompass all that love.

terribly sorry but i think about those two star destroyers colliding with the rogue one main theme playing over it every day. it’s,,,,, so,,,, ( ´∀｀)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again BEN MENDELSSOHN??? UH YEAH

krennic watching his weapon (his beautiful, successful weapon) power up and kill him,,, the poetic justice of it all,,,,

any time anyone says "may the force be with you" i dunno maybe it’s my religious trauma but i’m head over heels for that good shit

the star destroyer coming out of hyper space as the rebels are escaping and some of the ships hit the destroyer?? one of my favorite things in the new star wars movies is directors and writers saying "oh this can totally happen" and they DO IT

jyn mentioning earlier in the film that she isn’t used to people sticking around when shit hits the fan and then dying in the arms of cassian?? because he stayed?? and for the first time she has someone??

in that same vein: cassian also says earlier in the film that he lost everything too. his connection with jyn is also important to him, just as important as it is to jyn. they need each other. i can’t remember who on this hellsite said it, but someone mentioned that they hope the stand alone cassian stuff coming out doesn’t make him this swindling playboy who fucks around a bunch. i think having him as more of like?? a mandolorian type character would be really cool. like he’s a rebel assassin: make him one. make him independent and badass and cool and DONT give him a bunch of romantic or sexual interests because then that downplays the clear love he had developing for jyn. again LOVE COMES IN FORMS BEYOND BASIC SHIPS. and there’s a lot of love in star wars.

i’ve said it a million times but vader is so cool and over and over again this movie reminded me that he’s actually so scary. i saw star wars for the first time when i was 6 and i can’t remember my initial reaction to him, but i’ve definitely (like with the death star) been desensitized to the fact that if i was in star wars, darth vader would scare the shit out of me. he’s *scary* and that’s cool. i liked seeing vader effortlessly go fucking mad on these rebels. then you understand why they were so scared in that first scene of a new hope.

no i absolutely will not get over the vader scene. i won’t. his saber turning on. his force abilities. his effortless lightsaber work. the choral music over the scene with the hectic orchestra. don’t touch me i’m emotional.

i loved seeing leia. it touches me so deeply every time.

fuck i love this movie despite all its faults.

if you’ve made it this far, thank you!! i hope you enjoyed. please remember that this is totally a safe space for all star wars opinions and you can feel free to disagree with me! i’d love to hear what some of you thought :))

#star wars #rogue one #baze #jyn erso #chirrut imwe #cassian andor #baze malbus #bohdi rook #k2so #star wars opinions #star wars critique #star wars review

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elias-veturius-laia-of-serra · 5 years ago

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A Sky Beyond The Storm: SPOILERY Review

*!!BEWARE!! A Sky Beyond The Storm Spoilers below. And it’s not just a little of them. It is FULL BLOWN COMPLETE SPOILERS! SO BEWARE! DO NOT READ THIS REVIEW IF YOU HAVEN’T READ A SKY BEYOND THE STORM!*

[CAUTION] This is all my opinion so please don’t leave anything negative. Or send hate or think this is a welcome post to start arguing. I’m only posting this cause sadly my friends have not finished the book yet and it’s been five days since I’ve finished and I have yet to be able to explore how I fully feel about the book. Thankfully writing this tired me out and completely reflected everything I feel! It was the perfect outlet! I also wrote it all in one go just pouring all my emotions out so if the grammar is bad or some things don’t make sense. I’m sorry! I’ll be sure to edit this at some point ❤️

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Wow.

Five years. I had stuck to this series for five years and it’s always given me love, heartache, pain, loss, but most importantly hope.

I want to start off by talking about how happy I was with how Laia’s arc was handled. Usually when you have a “weak” and frightened protagonist their growth is mainly focused on how quick they can shed that image and because something else entirely. How they can become an ultra badass that is able to hack and slice through their enemies and become this killer warrior machine, but Laia Of Serra is not a killer. And that’s been reiterated throughout the books. She feels too much, cares too much, and loves too much. She mourns the for any lives lost even if it is the enemy. She hates taking lives cause she sees no reason to take one even if it is for the greater good. As shown in Torch and Sky, She cries after she accidentally that man. She’s wrecked with guilt when she accidentally kills that jinn. At the people who fall during this war. Laia Of Serra isn’t a killer. She’s hope. She’s love. She’s understanding. And many people do see that as weakness but I love that Laia is able to harness these emotions that make her human as use it as strength. That at the end of the day she isn’t a badass savage girl who lost everything and is out for blood. She’s still just Laia and I wouldn’t have it any other way! Being a big emotional scaredy cat I am I’ve never been able to relate to the big badass skilled warriors that can take down armies of men. I wish to be like them but the reality is I’m not. So I never thought I could see myself being a hero or doing any good if the time for me to be one ever came, but Laia really conveys that strength is more than just being able to shed blood and kill people. That it’s okay to cry, to be scared, to feel sad, and be insecure. Brown girls are always so used to being silenced and taught to behave in order to survive. That’s been our story for a long time but Laia was able to turn our meekness, our fragility, our fear, and our insecurities into something strong. Into something that moves her forward, that taught her how to fight, and that ultimately makes her victorious. The Her final scene with the Nightbringer was beautiful and utterly heartbreaking.

Which brings me to the Nightbringer. I used to hate him so much unable to understand him. I found his anger equivalent to that of an edgy teen that got told “No” too many times. But despite his cruelty book 4 really opened my eyes. Despite all the deaths and rage Sabaa has managed to also convey all his loneliness, his sadness, his hopelessness, his loss, and how all this pain had driven him to believe this was the only way he’d be able to be at peace. To get rid of the world that had been so cold to him. To get rid of a world that made him feel unaccepted and had taken away everything that mattered to him until all he had left was the broken pieces of himself with no one there to help him pick them up. I loved the Nightbringer here. I learned to respect him so much. He’s carried so much pain and loneliness for thousands of years in hopes to gain back what he has lost. I was finally able to sympathize with him and much like Laia - I didn’t hate him anymore. Couldn’t hate him. Of course what he did was wrong but it’s hard to wish more unfortunate things upon someone whose whole life has been nothing but misfortune. I loved his story with Rehmat. Their love though mentioned briefly was a beautiful thing and I found I wanted nothing more than him to be able to be with her again and to be able to feel that love again. I used to cringe and loathe the idea of Nightbringer and Laia being romantic but this book opened my eyes into seeing that that isn’t it at all. I mean yes he is in love with her but that’s just the kind of person he is. He loves. He’s the beloved. He has many loves. As his queen once said, he loves too much. So it isn’t about sparkly forbidden romance. It’s the fact that Meherya had love for all things and to be betrayed because of it had hardened his heart. Laia knows what this feels like. So to see her hold him and tell him it’s okay. That his feelings are valid and the world turned it’s back on him first, but he can’t blame all life for that. That she knows deep within him he still loves, he still hopes, and he must hold onto that. Skies, nearly made me cry. Then by the end when he is able to tell her goodbye with a hand to her cheek and she knows despite everything he still loves her - I nearly started bawling. Because he truly is the beloved and he did not deserve all those who took his love then basically spat in his face. I was happy to finally see him be able to reunite with Rehmat. His one true love and his only queen. Cause I know through her and finally leaving this world - he will be able to finally be at peace.

Now onto the next character. Elias. WHEEEEW! He was as cold as Sabaa promised. So distant and stoic. Reading about him through Laia’s P.O.V. was so heartbreaking. Yet reading through his was ALMOST worse. Where as Laia can’t find her Elias we are able to see little cracks of it. He still looks at her for too long. Lingers at the thought of her for too long. His heart beats faster when she is around when it shouldn’t. He remembers things he shouldn’t. Being around her is too hard because she is everything he had originally fought for. Inner Elias still sees her as his home and his freedom. However his cold demeanor was nearly too much for me! I even almost contemplated unstanning my favorite OTP in the world when he left her to the jinn. Though I think a lot of that mainly has to do with the fact cause we see how much he loves her. He’s risked so much for her so to see him abandon her was like a slap in the face and truly showed how much he has changed, but thankfully there was hundreds of pages left for him to make up for it. And of course in an Elias fashion he did. When the nightbringer had her captive he couldn’t get himself to leave her again. When he saw Laia scratched up after falling into a river and his thoughts immediately thought of ways to defeat this river (I cackled). When he told her he wouldn’t be able to help if she were to get in trouble trying to steal the Nightbringer’s scythe and yet he came in seconds the moment she called to him cause nothing else mattered as soon as he heard her voice. When Elias realized Mauth had completely weakened his first reaction was to run to Laia and while she had been frozen haunted by realizing what she had done it was Elias who ran in front of the storm to get her away from it and nearly sacrificing his life in order to keep her safe. I mean HOW CAN I NOT FORGIVE HIM AFTER ALL THAT!? I couldn’t stop the emotions running through when he was able to finally meet his father. When he was able to see the life he could’ve had if war and pain hadn’t tainted it. Then his final strive to live. Him fully coming back as Elias Veturius and chanting Always Victorious to come back to the world of the living. It was everything! Elias has been a death magnet throughout this series. His whole has made his hands drenched in blood and making him live a life so dirty that he believes at many moments is a life that isn’t worth living anymore. That he’s too damaged. Too callous. Too tainted to be considered worthy of anything, but in the end when the time came he pushed to life. He fought to be more than his mistakes. To be more than a symbol of death. He chose to live.

I will continue with the characters but here’s a short break to speak about my most prized possession: Elaia. So I already explained a good chunk in Elias’s snippet, but we ALL know they need their own portion for one to get their feelings out more clearly. Elias and Laia’s love as usual isn’t easy and broke me time and time again. One minute my heart flutters and I’m on the edge of my seat in hope and then the next it’s like I get a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. Their relationship was especially rough in the beginning. Elias pulled away consistently and though watching Laia try her hardest to break through was admirable it hurt all the more every time it failed. Yet even through all the hurt my heart still fluttered. The way she purposely said things, or did certain things, in order to get a rise out of him was such a delight to watch. Elias and his rocks ended with both Laia and I sad but I still can’t help how wholesome it felt to see them banter. Laia sitting on the boulder in the middle of his “workout”, him casually hoisting her over his shoulder, putting her down, and just to have her spring back up and follow him to continue the conversation. Who knew seeing two people talk about pets could get a giggle out of me. The last three hundred pages I’d say are the best. Cause this is when the Soul Catcher slowly begins to soften up. He lets himself care about Laia more. Lets himself get lost in her more. I had to put the book down after the mango scene just to catch my breath! I won’t lie and pretend I didn’t enjoy all the steamy scenes. I did and nearly fainted at every single one of them, but it was the soft moments between Soul Catcher and Laia that stood out the most. When she was sad and he’d hold her, the way he was so attached to the armlet that thought that he had lost it made him tear his cabin apart, when he went to find her to tell her to leave the waiting place but couldn’t help but stare at her instead, telling her he prefers being called Elias from her, still putting her first then then disguising it saying he is only doing it for his duty to the ghosts, and the way the old him springs up constantly whenever she’s around. Every little detail was a hit to the heart! Especially Laia telling Elias that he had no right to dictate her emotions. He has no right to tell her how to fell. She loves him and she finds him worthy of it and he cannot take that away. He can’t make her stop loving him. It was everything to see her always declaring how much she loved him seeing as she never got to at the end of Reaper. And now she won’t let him stop hearing it. Won’t let him not know it or forget it. Even their sex scene felt more than just steamy smut. It was so wholesome as they laughed together for the first time in a long time, the way he saw her as perfect, and by the end of it to have Laia speak about how she wanted everything with him forever. It made their ending all the more sweeter. I had made so many jokes before SKY about them finally being able to do it, about them practically being married, the wooden armlet being an engagement ring, and them being endgame and hoping that at least one of these would come true. Little did I know every single one would. Little did I know that the ending I have been hoping for but was 99% sure I’d never get was exactly what I’d get and more. Sabaa Tahir has truly spoiled me and I don’t deserve it but I will thank her a million times for it!

Next Character: Helene. Oh boy. Unpopular opinion but I had a strong dislike for Helene for a long time. I thank Sabaa for giving her a P.O.V. though. Cause without it all I and many others would see is colonizer and oppressor. Evil. Wrong. Wicked. I hated Helene in the first book. Tolerated her in the second. Found her likeable in the third. Then ultimately fell in love with her in the fourth. I found book 4 Helene to be the very best Helene she could be. Her finally letting her emotions break through is what ended up captivating me. Her scene as she slayed Karkauns all the while crying gave me chills in REAPER. THAT to me was strength . THAT was what reminded me as badass as Helene is she’s still human. She falters, she makes mistakes, she cries, she wins, she loses, and it isn’t power that ultimately drives her. For her too it is love. Love for family, love for friends, and love for her people. Her friendship with Laia made my heart bloom. I wish we could’ve had more of it! I also wish we could’ve seen it develop more but I also understand that this is the last book and I’d rather spend it seeing two queens getting along then bicker like they had been in the last three books. I loved watching them tease each other, them grin while talking about blasted men, Helene feeling like she can stand taller when Laia compliments her, and Laia ultimately being the first scholar to hail her as Empress. And all her fighting scenes!? BEST FIGHTING SCENES I’VE EVER READ! Helene is ruthless, she is brutal, she isn’t afraid to be stained in blood, and will defeat anyone in her way. I found myself so excited in my reread when I saw I was approaching those scenes. She is flawless in battle and I found myself completely entrapped by her. Slicing off heads, arms, and striding into every battle with her head held high. I was about ready to fight Harper to let her be with me instead! Her P.O.V.s had actually been my least favorite through book 2 and 3. Book 4 made me so happy that I got to go from chapter to chapter like: Oh yay! Laia! Oh yay Elias! Oh yay! Helene! I was able to be excited throughout the whole thing knowing each character was going to give me something good! Also I found her a lot funnier this time around! And Lord knows how I love my women bossy, sarcastic, and blunt. I know a lot of people are angry about her ending. I was deeply saddened by it too. I used to think as a colonizer serves her right to lose everything! Why should I feel bad when she’s scoffed at the lives of the scholars and shrugged her shoulders at slavery for the longest time but of course that ended up biting me in the ass. I understand Sabaa’s reasoning. Helene has took for the longest time. So now it has come full circle for her to experience what that feels like for the other side. All those scholars who too lost a sister, brother, mother, father, and lover that she took away without a second glance when oppressing them. I loved that Sabaa protrays it in a way that before as someone who despised her, I can’t even be happy about it. Instead I am empty. Lost. Hurt. It shows all the more how useless war and vengeance is. We think more deaths and kills will make us feel better. It does not. Instead I found myself days later still haunted by what happened between her and Avitas. And now I wish nothing more but Helene to find happiness. To have more days laughing with Laia and reluctantly letting her braid her hair and dress her up. More teasing and reminiscing between her and her once best friend, Elias. And possibly something new and exciting and fulfilling with Musa. (Which I will touch on in it’s own paragraph haha)

Next: Avitas. Hmmm. Here’s the thing. I don’t hate Avitas. His moments with the shrike were meaningful and his presence is what ultimately led to breaking through her hard exterior. He taught Helene how to be just a girl again. How to feel without being weak. How love can be strength. I loved that he was able to bring out a more vulnerable side of her and show to her that it wasn’t a weakness. Every part of her is strong. Every part of her is beautiful. Every part of her he loves. That moment especially when she declares herself as broken and his eyes are wet with tears feeling for her. That he tells her being broken cannot stop her. It just makes her all the more of a force to reckon with. He was exactly what Helene needed in this time of war. Exactly what she needed to stay tethered to the world and faithful to herself. Sadly however I couldn’t get myself to connect with him. He was so reserved, so quiet, and so serious most of the time. It was hard to gather much from him. The little cracks of his demeanor whenever he was around Helene helped soften me. His fierce loyalty to her alone and understanding that a girl like her doesn’t need protection. She can very well take care of herself but it wasn’t about that. He just loved her too much to ever stop worrying. It ached something fierce within me. His death also haunted me for days and still does. Though I think it did hurt a little less cause I wasn’t attached to him. It was hard to considering how little I feel I still know about him and his thoughts and feelings. Plus his final scene with Elias at the waiting place brought me peace. He died for the person he loved and now he gets to reunite with his family. He wanted to leave and so he did. May Avitas Harper rest in peace and never be forgotten.

Next: Darin. His death ruined me. He was the sole purpose Laia went on this journey in the first place. He was the first person to always believe in her. He was the only family she (thought) she had left. He was one of Laia’s biggest fans and nothing else mattered more to him than her. He based so much of his life pushing Laia forward and encouraging her and getting her to laugh again even during the darkest of times. The way he pinched her cheeks before bidding her goodbye, the way he went back to find Laia and fight beside her, the way he teased her about Elias making the both of us laugh, and how even in his final moments before crossing over he wanted to know how his sister was doing. If she had won. Then being able to pass in peace proudly when he found out that she had. And his final words telling Elias that if there’s one person who can make up for all the love she’s lost it’s him. He will be missed greatly. So much so!

Next: Faris. Faris has been here since the beginning His last scene with the shrike also ruined me. I had to put the book down cause I was so hurt. Faris was a giant teddy bear always spewing jokes and being a clueless but brave boy. To see him go down like that though admirable still broke me nonetheless. Especially despite knowing a lot about them I loved him and Dex very much! I also thought maybe him and Livia could have their own happy ending, but I hoped too hard ):

Next: Livia. I bet you can guess this hurt very much as well. I loved Livia so much. She was such a powerful girl thrust into this world of politics and tyrants and held her own. My love first ignited in Reaper and only shined brighter in SKY. My jaw dropped and once again the book went down when Keris killed her. I was so broken. She was so full of life, witty, brave, sweet, and just as fierce as her sister. I wished she could’ve stayed!

Next: Musa. My FAVORITE secondary character in the whole series. Words cannot describe how much I love Musa and it saddens me to see that he is so underrated. Though I’m happy that even Sabaa says that he is one of her favorites! Musa was a light in every dark moment. I’m always a sap for handsome snarky sarcastic comedic relief characters with a tragic past. I loved that he was the one to always joke first despite how much he hurts. That he was the one always encouraging those around him to fight for love even though he lost his. I loved that he called Laia little sister and how his mere presence around her could make Elias go feral. Surprisingly most of all I loved his relationship with Helene.

Now here is yet another break from character talk to talk about another pair. Musa and Helene. I know it’s wrong. Helene had just lost Avitas and they are two broken people right now. But like said just for a moment, together, they make a whole. I never even thought of a possibility between the two. It felt so random. Awkward even. Though upon my reread I can see the little hints. Musa and Helene practically spend most of the book at each other’s side. They fight together, they encourage each other, they argue, and they see each other. Two people always putting on a brave face no matter how much they hurt. I was surprised to feel myself smiling at their bickering. Helene tends to be an uptight stoic person but around Musa she can’t help but smile and laugh as easy as it is to breathe. The way she endearingly considers him pretty. Around Musa she can’t help but talk about her feelings and him to her. The way she held his hand when they found out about Nikla’s death and how even when Harper went to talk to him he still wouldn’t let go of her. And their final scene together at the end of SKY. SO MANY FEELS! I CAN’T HELP THE FLUTTER OF HOPE I FEEL! Their bickering even cuter! Their vulnerability to each other even more powerful! All the while still respecting their past loves and understanding they can still mourn and yet live and strive for more. Absolutely perfect! Seeing Helene not close herself up after yet again losing in love was such a beautiful thing to me. Her telling Musa she’d like it if he stayed and him obviously happy about it but feigning arrogance instead is so him it only makes me love him more. Makes me love them more. Makes me hope! This could just be Sabaa testing the waters but Helene does still owe him a favor and I hope to the skies above Sabaa will be giving us that tale soon!

Next Character: Keris. I loved how she was handled as well. Learning about her past explained so much and yet erased nothing. I loved being able to learn more about her. I loved being able to see all the suffering she went through that we didn’t know about that turned shaped her into the cruel person she is today. How some of her actions still can’t be fully understood cause Keris herself probably doesn’t understand it either. I love that we are able to see her point of view and understand het and yet it’s plainly obvious that Keris has made her grave. Now it’s time for her to lie in it. It’s such a painful yet satisfying thing to see her reunite with her mother’s ghost. To be confronted by all her misdoings as Karinna looks at her in hope and then disdain upon seeing all the blood on her hands. From then she is unable to see her as her daughter leaving Keris ultimately alone and to confront all the wrongs she had cause to get to where she is. I felt it more fitting that Mirra killed her. Marcus is the one who took the Bloodshrike’s family away from her so it is only fair that Helene got to kill him. While Keris is the one who tortured Cook and her family. Forced Mirra’s hand to kill her own family just so they won’t have to suffer under Keris anymore. So it felt right to me that Mirra finally got to have the last word. I also loved how Mirra was able to take away all of Keris’s pain until she was reduced to nothing but a girl again before she was tainted. Then ultimately passed on. I found this a incredibly satisfying end to her arc.

Lastly: Mirra. I LOVED that Mirra was able to come back. I LOVED that Sabaa wasn’t cruel enough to leave Laia alone. Since Helene had baby Zacharias. Elias has Quin. Laia would’ve had no one. And I loved that Elias and Helene teared up also happy to see that Laia still had one person left. I loved that cook admits to her faults and how broken she herself is. How vengeance took over her and led her astray. But there is no one she loves more in this world than Laia. That she will fight everything and anyone just to ensure Laia will have a place in this world. I also loved her sense of humor. Had me cackling when she demanded Mauth to come talk to her and when she casually calls Elias her son in law. I loved her teaming up with the Bloodshrike! I love the big reveal leading up to it. It was all just so perfect for me!

In conclusion: Do I have my criticisms? Yes. There are a few things I wish to change. I thought Keenan was mentioned too much in the beginning. I found their relationship especially in book 2 very unhealthy so to hear her mention it and him as something to miss made me quite uncomfortable. Though I suppose it’s also just the thought of missing an ally and a friend cause there was a time where she had no one but Keenan to rely on. I wish we could’ve had more Helene and Laia scenes! Seeing her smile in a long time because Elias and Laia had their happy ending did wonders to my soul! I wish we could’ve had more scenes of Elias, Laia, and Helene all working together. I wish we could’ve had more scenes of Elias and Laia fighting side by side. Especially since I’ve always wanted scenes of them fighting together. The ones we got in SKY were EVERYTHING! I just wish we could’ve had more of that instead of them walking in the forest and pages of him being cold to her. I wish Avitas and Elias could’ve bonded more. To see them two be so reserved and yet so happy to be able to meet was such a gift. And yet they only fully spoke in two scenes ): I wish Darin and Laia got to spend more time together. I wish Laia could’ve gotten more scenes with her scythe. Or that we could’ve gotten more scenes of Laia with her bow and arrows. However these are minor things and do not take away much from my overall feeling for this book.

Which is I am in love with this book. It is my new favorite book of all time. Of any other book ever. I think it is the best book in the series and the fact that Sabaa is so proud of it and says it’s the best book she ever wrote. I can’t help but agree and give A Sky Beyond The Storms a sky full of stars. The ending is everything I’ve ever wanted and so much more. It makes saying goodbye hurt less knowing my faves are alive, happy, and have finally found a place to call home. I love that we end off on Elias and Laia getting engaged and walking off to get ready to start a new life together. I couldn’t of asked for a better ending. Sabaa really outdid herself and I hope she gets all the praise and all the awards for this divine book and her flawless story telling. Truly one of the best Kehannis out there ❤️

#A Sky Beyond The Storm

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anthony-kate · 5 years ago

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***Magnus and Alec are husbands. Yes, this needed to be said because CAN YOU BELIEVE? :’) But also, yes, it’s really been that long since the latest Malec fic rec. I’m sorry. It’s... yeah. Although if you also miss Malec every second of every day, reading fanfics at least helps a little.

I tried to collect a nice mix again so I hope you will enjoy this 9th (!!!) edition of my Malec fanfic rec posts. As usual, I enjoy making them and rec’ing you fics but these posts take a looooot of time so please, please, please reblog, like and spread the word so that I see you enjoy these and these posts are helpful. It motivates to do a new one in the future if y’all are interested. Thank you

And now, have fun discovering, reading, and loving those Malec fics. And leave a kudo and comment for those authors while you’re on it. We all love appreciation and need validation. :)***

previous Malec fic recs: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

---

42 NORTH 71 WEST by @lecrit [ M | AU | 62.1k | complete ]

Alec sometimes wonders why he ever decided to pursue a career in politics. Magnus sometimes questions whether pursuing his dream of becoming an actor was worth it.

Those two facts are not necessarily mutually exclusive.

THE SHOW MUST GO ON by @unrestrainedlyexcessive [ E | AU | 21.3k | complete ]

Alec pulls up to the gold intercom positioned at the enormous front gates. Like everything owned by the obscenely wealthy, they’re proportioned for both for giants and giant egos.

He’d hoped this would be easier, less gut-churning work than protecting diplomats and foreign dignitaries, some guilty of truly terrible things, but being a bodyguard for a coddled popstar who can’t even be bothered with basic safety isn’t his idea of a good time.

---

Magnus is a popstar and Alec is his reluctant bodyguard. The bodyguard au in epistolary form. Image-heavy.

HIGHER THAN THE BIG TREES by @carmenlire [ E | AU | 242k | complete ]

Alec loves his job. He’s been touring since he was sixteen. He’s stayed in dozens of countries over the years, learned enough of their languages to get a beer in his hand and a man in his bed. The road is as much his home as the townhouse on the Upper West Side. He’s as comfortable in cheap hotel rooms with scratchy linens and glaring lights as he is in his penthouse that overlooks Central Park with its silk sheets and the constant hum of the city that never sleeps. Alec works hard and that hard work has paid off. He just finished his latest sold-out world tour and by all rights, he should be on top of the world. But the mental pressure of celebrity is getting to Alec and he doesn't trust his footing. He's stuck where most people would kill to be and he just wants to know what his next move should be. Enter Magnus Bane. A history professor at Columbia University, Magnus is content with his friends, his classes, and the occasional warm body in his bed. But he's been feeling stagnant, looking for the next chapter in his life to begin. If only he knew what Alec would bring his way.

THE SECRET OF THE SECRET SANTA by @notcrypticbutcoy [ T | AU | 12.7k | complete ]

As busy doctors with busy schedules, Magnus and Alec have danced around their feelings for each other for years, much to the chagrin of their friends. This Christmas, Simon decides it’s time for an intervention-in the form of a shamelessly rigged secret santa.

Or: In which Simon rigs the secret santa, Magnus and Alec flirt over nerdy doctor things, and are both a little bit oblivious.

RUMOR HAS IT by @lecrit [ M | AU | 12.9k | complete ]

Magnus widens his eyes at him, silently asking him to just give him this one. Alec simply curves one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows in response, a simple gesture that carries the weight of a call for challenge. “Looks like you’re gonna have to postpone your wedding for now,” Maia giggles next to him. Magnus huffs, flexing his jaw. “Oh, it’s on, Lightwood,” he mouths at him.

Or the one where Alec and Magnus are both after the same guy, but end up falling for each other instead.

CIGARETTE by j__writes [ T | AU | 3.1k | complete ]

His relationship with Magnus Bane had been nothing short of frustrating.

Frustrating in the worst of ways. Frustrating in the best of ways.

ABSOLUTELY ABYSMAL by @aemiliafawn [ E | 4.8k | complete ]

The first time Alec sees Magnus wearing lipstick he wants to do filthy things to him. Magnus isn't exactly opposed to this.

A ROYAL AFFAIR by j__writes [ M | AU | 38.8k | complete ]

Prince meets professor and it's love at first sight. Lucky (or maybe unlucky) for him, the beautiful professor doesn't know his boyfriend's a prince.

HEAVEN IS A TASTE ON EARTH by @alittlebriton [ T | AU | 20.7k | complete ]

Making a birthday cake for the renowned chef Magnus Bane is a hard enough task – made harder still by the fact his girlfriend doesn’t seem to know Magnus’ likes or dislikes at all. Alec Lightwood, maker of some of the finest cakes in Brooklyn, is up to the challenge, even if he can’t take his eyes off the birthday boy. But as Alec and Magnus grow closer, could it be that the missing ingredient is true love?

LOVE & OTHER DRUGS by @la-muerta [ E | AU | 2k | complete | Semi-Charmed Kind Of Life #1 ]

Rising rockstar Magnus Bane’s life is all about sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll - it's an old cliché, but sometimes the clichés are true. And Alec Lightwood, a bassist from another band, is a drug Magnus can't get enough of - even if he knows that like any drug, he's sinking deeper with every hit he takes, and that this is killing him slowly and painfully.

Because this is just about sex, and Alexander doesn't love him back.

OUR LOVE IS A HARSH CHORD by @la-muerta [ E | AU | 21.9k | complete | Semi-Charmed Kind Of Life #2 ]

Magnus lives in two worlds: one of blinding stage lights and the thunder of the adoring crowd stomping its feet to the rhythm of his music; and one of the darkness offstage, a blur of lonely hotel rooms, one-night stands, drugs, and the sting of whiskey.

Magnus lives in two worlds, both of them stark, bleak, empty - until Alec Lightwood comes along, and everything falls apart.

MELTING MOLTEN by @raininginadelaide [ E | 4k | complete ]

The training scene in the show was their second attempt. The first time, Alec showed even less restraint.

SUPPORT SYSTEM by @bytheangell [ T | AU | 122.8k | complete | Support System #1 ]

When Alec's favorite show gets cancelled and he takes to messaging customer service repeatedly to show his support, he doesn't expect to connect so well with the support representative he keeps getting paired off with.

PAGING DR. LIGHTWOOD-BANE by @carmenlire [ not rated | AU | 4.4k | complete ]

Alec scowls. “I’m not on rotation this weekend-- I’m not even on call-- and we decided to make the most out of it.”

“We,” Maia asks, brows inching towards her hair line. “Who’s we?”

“My husband and I,” he mutters and he rolls his eyes as it's like a bomb’s been detonated in the middle of the table.

Simon screeches, “What,” and even Jace and Isabelle are looking at him with wide eyes.

“You’re married?”

Or, the one where everybody finds out

TRUTH OR DARE? by @atowncalledmalec�� [ E | AU | 4.5k | complete ]

Two small-town cops, partners, Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane, have somehow pulled desk duty on the graveyard shift. Bored out of their minds and finding a lie detector machine, the chance of winning a $50 bet and being able to ask the questions they've always wanted to ask is too good of an opportunity to pass up. Alec gets a little more than he bargained for though when the machine betrays him at every turn. And so does Magnus.

EVERYTHING I DIDN’T KNOW I WANTED FOR CHRISTMAS by @la-muerta [ T | AU | 4.5k | complete ]

Alec got his Christmas shopping done months ago - but he should have known that Jace would mess it all up for him. Now he's out braving the crowds on Christmas Eve trying to find a toy that's sold out everywhere for his son, and as it turns out, he's not the only desperate single father out there who will stop at nothing to get his hands on that last toy in the shops.

CERTAIN PERKS by quill_and_ink [ E | 5.5k | complete ]

"You never have to prove yourself to me."

Shadowhunters are being murdered and mutilated. The Clave is getting desperate to find the culprit, but Alec has to believe there's another way. He won't let this end his relationship with Magnus - he refuses to accept that, and he'll do whatever he can to protect them.

Based on the dialogue and actions from "Shadowhunters" Episode 2x13: "Those of Demon Blood"

THE TRUTH UNTOLD by @carmenlire [ not rated | 4.4k | complete ]

Magnus closes his eyes and leans into the feelings that wrap around him. They’re two of the most powerful men in the New York shadow world. It makes his chest ache sometimes, the knowledge that they may never be able to take their relationship public, that he won’t ever be able to kiss Alec on a sunny day in the city, that they can’t hold hands as they walk through Central Park, that whenever they do see each other in public it’s always in an official capacity and they’re relegated to formal greetings while their eyes try to say everything they can’t.

He’d still take this over not having Alec, though. That Magnus knows without a doubt.

ANYTHING YOU SAY by @milominderbindered [ M | AU | 117k | complete ]

Detective Alec Lightwood likes his job. He likes the order of it, likes helping people, likes that he gets to work with Jace and that Izzy is always right downstairs in the morgue too. He's wanted to be a cop ever since he was a kid, just like his parents before him, and now he's living that dream. His life should be perfect.

There's just one problem. Their precinct has just gotten a new forensic expert -- Magnus Bane.

And honestly, he's so cute that Alec's kind of losing his mind.

EMISSARY OF SIN by @insiemes [ M | AU | 97.6k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood, the Clave's top protection agent, is called upon to guard the life of his mortal enemy - one of the world's most notorious hitmen, Magnus Bane.

SHOOT TO KISS by @dantes-wombat [ M | 5k | complete ]

As far as dates go, this one's a bit more weapons-centered than Magnus expected - but also a lot sexier.

IF YOU’VE GOT THE MONEY, I’VE GOT THE TIME by j__writes [ T | AU | 73.4k | complete ]

Alec has made plenty of questionable choices, as Izzy likes to so kindly remind him. Asking Magnus to be his fake boyfriend and then offering to pay him? That, right there, he doesn’t know what the fuck he was thinking. And he wasn’t. But Magnus is really nice and really fucking hot, and if Alec gets to pretend to be his boyfriend then… win - win, right?

ANONYMOROUS by @superficialpeasant [ E | AU | 10.6k | complete ]

When one of Clary’s art exhibition performers drops out last minute, Alec steps in to help. Unfortunately that also means he’ll be having sex with a stranger in public.

DATE NIGHT by @unrestrainedlyexcessive [ G | 562 | complete ]

“Look, it’s no big deal,” Alec says. “The angles in pool are just like archery. I have a natural advantage.”

“Pretty sure I beat you the first time we played,” Magnus says, taking a sip of his martini. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so relaxed, so at home in a relationship.

That is, until Alec started winning.

HARDER THAN THE LIQUOR I POUR by @carmenlire [ not rated | AU | 6.5k | complete ]

The bartender considers him for a moment before holding out the hand that was over his just a second before. “I’m Magnus, bartender extraordinaire. While I certainly wouldn’t mind calling you pretty boy for the rest of the evening, I think it only fair that you share your name, too. Don’t you?”

Slowly, Alec reaches out and grasps Magnus’s hand in a poor imitation of a handshake. He meets Magnus’s eyes and knows they both know that this is a mere prelude for what’s to come.

“Alec,” he says slowly and watches as Magnus’s smile deepens.

“Well, Alec, my shift ends in an hour. Wait for me?”

CREAM by @ohfreckle [ E | 3.4k | complete ]

Sometimes Magnus likes to wear panties.

“Are you kidding? You look amazing!” Alec wishes he were more eloquent, that he could miraculously find the words and praise to express how fucking hot Magnus is with his little panties on.

SAY IT by @ilovealeclightwood [ E | 4k | complete ]

“I want you,” Magnus pressed his lips to Alec’s neck, the sensation of his lips against the deflect rune making Alec shudder again.

“To admit,” Magnus continued, pausing to run his tongue over the length of the rune, sending sparks of pleasure through Alec and making him try to jerk his hips up again.

“That I was right.” Magnus pulled away from his neck to look down at him and it took a second for what he meant to click with Alec.

---

Or, Magnus and Alec solve petty arguments in a sensable, responsible manner

ALL NIGHT (OR A HUNDRED YEARS) by @hourglassmermaid [ T | 4.3k | complete ]

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Raphael,” Magnus chastises. “You know I take care of my friends.”

Friends. The word stings more than kuri venom; it lingers far longer than any demon attack ever could. It lingers in Alec’s mind when he’s tossing and turning at night imagining what they could have been if Alec hadn’t been such a coward all those years ago. It lingers in his heart whenever they’re alone, and Alec swears he sees a glimmer of those feelings Magnus must have buried long ago. And it lingers in his soul whenever they work together as allies, as leaders, as partners, because they really are compatible in all the ways that count.

But none of that matters, because they’re just friends.

---

Alec and Magnus are colleagues — maybe even friends. Definitely allies. Alec's content, with his life, his career, and even his (lack of) relationships, but sometimes when Magnus sits beside him, Alec may or may not cease to function. It's okay; he's okay.

I SAW PAPA KISSING SANTA CLAUS by j__writes [ G | AU | 3.3k | complete ]

“I heard a noise and so I snuck out. He didn’t see me but I saw him. I saw Santa and then I saw Papa and he kissed Santa, Raf.”

LIKE NOBODY ELSE by @carmenlire [ not rated | AU | 3.7k | complete ]

Simon’s been Alec’s assistant for the past three years. Alec was a hard ass, no doubt about it. He had exacting standards, a perpetually sardonic expression, and Simon had literally never seen the man smile.

Lightwood had exploded onto the scene ten years ago and in that time, he’s made a name for himself that no one else could rival. He might not be well liked but everyone-- even his enemies-- respected Lightwood.

Or, Simon is Alec's secretary and doesn't realize just how little he knows about his boss until he solves a mystery.

SEXY SNAPSHOTS by @tobythewise [ E | AU | 2.8k | complete ]

“Anything interesting on there?” Alec asks, a teasing note in his voice as he nods at the camera. “Anything sexy?" “Not at the moment.” Magnus raises his brow. “Wanna change that?” OR The one where Magnus and Alec explore what it's like to have sexy times while snapping sexy pictures of each other.

PUNDAMENTALS OF OFFICE RIVALRY by @bytheangell [ T | AU | 3.8k | complete ]

When Magnus and Alexander get off on the wrong foot at the start of their internship, Magnus takes it upon himself to annoy Alec at every turn.

WORSE THINGS THAN BEING IN LOVE by @aemiliafawn [ E | 4.6k | complete ]

Their wedding was everything they had ever dared to dream of. But perhaps their wedding night was just as special.

CRYPTIDS OF BROOKLYN by @alexanderlightweight [ M | AU | 2.3k | complete ]

For all the rather redundant and overused jokes made about lawyers and sharks, never was such a comparison or joke made concerning Alec Lightwood, as there was one glaring difference between the two ruthless predators.

Sharks smiled, Alec Lightwood didn’t.

ZERO COMPLAINTS by @aemiliafawn [ E | 3.3k | complete ]

Usually when someone wakes Magnus up before sunrise they'd have to face his wrath – however since Alec decides to make it actually worthwhile for the exhausted warlock, Magnus finds he doesn't mind making an exception just once.

HAHA JUST KIDDING... UNLESS? by @carmenlire [ not rated | AU | 2.5k | complete ]

"You know Magnus wouldn’t joke about boning his best friend just to do it. You mean too much to him and we all know how gone you’ve been over Magnus since, like, eighth grade.”

Alec sighs and it feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “I can’t get my hopes up, Jace. I’ve been in love with him for years but he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Groaning like they’ve gone around the block about this a thousand times-- because they have-- Jace facepalms. “How many times do I have to tell you-- Magnus feels what you feel but you’re both too stupid to get past your own hang-ups to talk about it.”

TAKE IT EASY by @la-muerta [ E | AU | 18.2k | complete ]

Alec signs up for a session with a professional male dominant, just a one-time thing to satisfy his curiosity. It most definitely doesn't end up being just a one-time thing.

THE LONELY HEARTS HOTLINE by @unrestrainedlyexcessive [ E | AU | 40.6k | complete ]

“Hey there,” Alec says in the lowest, sexiest voice he can manage. It sounds vaguely disinterested but some people get off on that.

“Hi,” the voice says.

“Ready to have some fun?”

The voice makes a small, sad noise.

“Or not?” Alec tries hastily. He gets paid regardless of what they're talking about. “We can just chat for a while.”

“What’s your name,” the voice says finally.

“Uh, Chad,” Alec says. He was drunk when he picked his name, just as he was drunk when he answered the job wanted ad. He should have picked something sexy like Tristan, but he’s forever Chad now, the douchiest phone sex operator in history. He balances his bowl of macaroni carefully on his stomach and sneaks a quick bite.

“You don’t sound like a Chad,” the voice says doubtfully.

“Why the hell not?” Alec says before he can stop himself, mouth full of pasta.

“--are you eating?”

“No,” Alec lies and swallows.

---

Alec is a bored phone sex operator. Bafflingly, Magnus just wants to talk about music.

BRIGHT LIGHTS, SMALL TOWN by @lecrit [ E | AU | 104.3k | complete | To Build A Home #1 ]

When Magnus gets to Nashville, Indiana to handle his late mother's will, he doesn't expect to be forced to stay there for six months. Six months away from New York and lost in the wildness of the countryside.

It quickly appears that he is going to go through six months of living hell.

The fact that he hates the local veterinarian on sight isn't helping.

BRIGHT LIGHTS, SMALL TOWN: EXTRAS by @lecrit [ E | AU | 12.6k | complete | To Build A Home #2 ]

A combination of extras for Bright Lights, Small Town.

EARTH’S MIGHTIEST HEROES by @lecrit [ M | AU | 141.9k | complete | Avengers Assemble #3 ]

The thing is… Their plans have a history of not going accordingly so when they finally do, maybe they build a confidence a bit too quickly. Breaking Magnus out turns out to be indeed a formality. Selling the ruby, too. So what could possibly go wrong now?

In which our team of misfits has to deal with the consequences of messing with a dangerous man and again, everything goes according to plan. Or not.

COLOR ME BLUE by @carmenlire [ not rated | AU | 18.8k | complete ]

Christmas is his favorite time of the year but Alec has barely had time to buy presents let alone enjoy the holiday season. December seems to have lasted the blink of an eye and Alec's shoulders hunch as he realizes morosely that most of this year is a blur of emergencies and rounds and consultations.

His gaze snags on a bakery display as he walks past. The window is dressed with multicolored lights and garland wrapping around the edges. The display case is full and Alec’s mouth waters just at the sight.

Without conscious thought, Alec is reaching for the door to Bane's Bakery, eager to see if the interior is just as whimsical and welcoming as the outside.

#malec #malec fic #malec fic rec #malec fanfic #shadowhunters #fic rec #fanfic #otp: look what i have waiting for me

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lucywritesreid · 5 years ago

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With Heaven Above You - Part 4

Summary: The team take a closer look at Reid’s findings to see if they can figure out where he might have been taken. Y/N feels tremendous guilt for putting him in this position, but finding something peculiar gives them their first clue…

Tags: @spacedikut @101donuts @rexorangecouny @l0ve-0f-my-life @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @awkwardnesshabitat @liaabsurd @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: Thank you so much again! Can’t believe all the nice comments I’ve had so far. Makes my heart swell 😊

Between the team the photograph must’ve been analysed a few thousand times. Each member kept requesting to look at it, picking it up and studying it under various light sources across the BAU. You had only looked at it the once. That was enough. The truth was that they weren’t going to find what they were looking for from the photo. It was just you taking off your microphone after the press conference. So it was highly likely that the unsub had been there, watching. JJ was making multiple phone calls to try and find the details of everyone who had signed up to be there. The truth was more harrowing. You knew that a mere 30 seconds after that picture was taken, Spencer had come over and given you a hug. A moment that you believed at the time to be private. But he had seen it. He had seen your Spencer. And he had taken him.

It was well into the night before any of you started to leave. Everyone had been running around, making phone calls, printing things off, going through case files. But you had just been sat at Spencer’s desk, curled up in his chair. You desperately were trying to think about what you could do. It was Emily who startled you out of your dream state.

“Hey, y/n, come crash with me tonight, okay? You need to try and get some sleep.”

You wanted to protest but it was no use. “Yeah, sure thing Em. Can we stop over at mine and grab a couple of things first?”

She looked a little hesitant at first. “Um, sure. But only quickly.”

From that moment on you acted without thought. It was as if a robot had taken over your body, moving your legs, walking you to the car. You couldn’t think about anything as you did it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get your things for you?” Emily’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t registered the entire car ride, and suddenly you were outside your apartment.

“No, but maybe come with me?” She nodded at the suggestion. You knew as soon as you walked in you were going to be wrapped up in all things him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle all the emotion.

Emily took your key from you and unlocked the door. She switched on the hall light and stepped into the apartment first, cautiously. You realised this wasn’t the first time Emily had walked into a home feeling unsettled, apprehensive. She knew just what it was like to come home and know that it wasn’t the way you left it. “I’m going to grab some of Reid’s case files to have a look at. You get what you need, take your time.”

“Thank you, Emily,” you tried to smile but your face couldn’t do it. You were so lucky to have such a wonderful friend, and one day you’d be able to show her just how much it meant to you. But not today.

You walked around uncertain, not sure what to look for. The sensible part of you was saying go pack a bag, get your things, and leave. You lingered in the living room for a few minutes, taking in all the things that reminded you of him. You saw the answering machine was flashing red. Was it really a good idea to check the message? It was probably something mundane, a cold caller. But there was a small possibility that it was him. Maybe an explanation? Your finger edged tentatively over the button. It took a few seconds before you pressed down and waited to hear what was coming next.

You’ve reached the home of Agent Y/F/N and Dr Spencer Reid, an all too familiar voice said, we can’t come to the phone right now because we’re probably fighting crime or playing chess. Leave a message after the beep!

What followed next was not what you expected. It was an almost silent message, but you could just about make out someone breathing. Some long, drawn out breathing. It lasted for about ten seconds and then the message cut out. Before you could call out a voice made you jump.

“When was that left?” Emily asked, suddenly behind you.

You squinted at the display on the machine. “This afternoon.”

“I’m going to forward this over to Garcia and see what she can get from it, you go and get the rest of your things.”

You nodded and walked into the bathroom. It was ridiculous to say that you could recognise Spencer’s breathing, but you were certain that wasn’t him on the tape. Which made it all the more unsettling as to who it actually was. Feeling tightness in your chest, you rushed over to the sink and turned on the cool water. You cupped your hands under the stream and splashed your face a few times, until the tight feeling went away. Get it together, y/n. You must do this. You need to focus.

After a few deep breaths you turned off the tap. You reached over to grab a towel from the radiator to dry your face when you saw a book lying on the bathroom floor. You crouched down to pick it up and admired it in your hands. The pages were all frayed and torn. It had been laid next to the radiator to dry after a night a few weeks ago.

“Hey! Y/N be careful, this is a first edition. I can’t take it back to the library covered in soap!”

“Listen Reid, you’re the one who decided to read during bath night. I can’t be liable for the damage that incurs.”

“Okay, fair point. But I thought you liked it when I read to you in Latin while you washed your hair? Weren’t you the one that said you wanted to learn a new language?”

“Yes Spence, a new language. A usable one. One that people still speak!”

“Statistically there are millions of people who can still read Latin. While it appears to be a dead language there is actually a large percentage of scholars and academics who use Latin in a variety of contexts… You always said you were interested in philosophy…”

“Yeah yeah, save me the lecture Dr Reid. You have until the bubbles run out to keep reading or else this book is going straight in the water…”

You were jolted out of your daydream by a knock on the door. “Y/N?” A concerned voice spoke up. “Are you okay in there?”

You quickly set the book back down and hurriedly grabbed your toothbrush and a hair tie. “Yeah Em, I’m coming now.” You made your way into the bedroom and grabbed a duffle bag. There was no thought to what you were packing, just random items that hopefully would make an outfit for the next day. You glanced over at Spencer’s pillow, his perfectly folded pyjamas, and decided to pack those as well.

It was truly painful to leave, but you knew it was for the best. By the time you made it to Emily’s it felt like it was almost morning. She poured you a large glass of wine and excused herself to go to bed, promising first that if you needed anything during the night to give her a call. You thanked her again and settled down on her sofa, wearing the buttoned-up pyjamas you’d taken from Spencer’s pillow. The glass of wine went down far too quickly, and you refilled it twice. Sleep was an impossibility at this point. You could already see morning light peaking through the gap in the curtains. That meant it wasn’t too long before you could go back to work and try and figure out what was next.

The truth was you already knew what you had to do. You were going to make another press conference, permission granted or not, and try and make yourself as appealing as possible. You were going to try and convince the career killer that the story would be far better if he took you as well as Reid. Imagine the headlines – two dead FBI agents, who were also in love! Caught in the crosshairs of the career killer! The best and most famous serial killer in the whole world! The papers would go wild for it. You knew deep down that the killer would, too. But it wasn’t going to play out that way. You were going to trade yourself for Spencer. Convince the killer it was you he really wanted. Tell him you’d give him whatever he wanted, help him put on a show. You’d let him kill you live on TV. You knew that you would do anything to get Spencer back.

You rehearsed your little inner monologue a few times. When you felt like you’d perfected it, you decided to try and think about something else for a few minutes. You remembered you’d taken the crossword puzzle book from Spencer’s desk. That would make a good distraction if he hadn’t finished them all already. You fumbled through the contents of your bag until you found it, along with a mechanical pencil. One of the corners had been turned over so you flicked the book open to that page.

Spencer had already started the crossword but hadn’t completed it. That confused you a little. It was very unlike him to leave a puzzle unfinished. You started to scan your eyes over the clues he had already filled in.

A six letter word for a season of the year synonymous with fall. Autumn. Easy. You glanced over to where Spencer had filled in the word. A-U-T-U-N-N. How had he managed to make that mistake? In all the years you knew him you hadn’t once seen a spelling error. You shrugged.

Next clue: Lion’s cry, four letters. Roar. Same again, you looked at where he’d filled it in. R-O-O-R. This couldn’t be a coincidence. You circled the incorrect letter, and the ‘n’ in autumn, and went back to the next clue.

A seven letter word for a pilot. Aviator. Spencer had filled in A-V-I-A-T-U-R. You circled the U.

Clearly reasoned, seven letters. Logical. Same spelling mistakes. L-O-J-I-C-A-L. That added a J.

Card game, five letters. Poker. P-O-K-A-R. A.

Woollen items, eight letters. Knitwear. K-N-T-T-W-E-A-R. T.

Organ of sight, 3 letters. Eye. E-Y-I. You circled and noted the I.

Desire to travel, ten letters. You had to look across at what Spencer had already written for this one. Wanderlust. But he’d spelt it W-A-N-D-E-L-R-U-S-T. Confused, you circled and noted the l and the R as they were both wrong.

He had only filled in one more clue. Calm-natured. Placid. But instead of a C, he’d written S. That left you with ten letters. You scrawled them down at the bottom of the page. N, O, U, J, A, T, I, L, R, S

N O U J A T I L R S.

What on Earth did that mean? You looked at it a few times through slightly blurry wine eyes. Why had he done this? You couldn’t quite understand what was going on. But there was something in you, a hunch, that he’d left this for you on purpose. Who else would piffle through his desk and take out a crossword book? There had to be some meaning to it. After exhausting yourself with possibilities, the tiredness took over, and you eventually fell asleep. You dreamt of those ten letters swirling around your head.

End of part 4.

#dr reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n

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jazajas · 5 years ago

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okay so i finished love, victor a while ago and i saw some other reviews and thoughts about it here so now i've got a pretty good list on my thoughts and feelings.

tl;dr: it has some issues, yes, but im gonna hold out and hope it gets better later on because the same thing happened with the first few eps, i wasn't that into it but then it got good, and nothing is ever great with the first season, because at that point we're getting used to those characters.

⚠️caution: spoilers ahead (im on mobile, i cant get an under-the-cut)⚠️

1. while a leah on the offbeat movie would have been amazing movie sequel (even tho i havent read the book yet, im just here for the wlw content) i am kind of glad we got this instead. mostly because I've seen book series where one movie was good, so they decide to do the rest, turn out bad (hunger games? divergent? percy jackson? the hobbit?) because so much was cut from the book-to-first movie writing, that other scenes wouldn't make sense to future movies if they had those in while cutting others. however, i am sad that i didn't get to make the choice of deciding whether what was cut was wrong etc. about future movies, but i'll take what i can get.

2. LGBTQ+ POC as a lead! that's amazing! as a ace/bi lantina that's close to home (it also is great that victor's from texas and so is ya gorl) and even then it's a mixed latinx family! i think pilar mentioned that at least the grandmother left Colombia and i saw the Puerto Rican flag in victor's room. also the salazar's are definitely from small town texas, even without knowing the name. (church barbeques, the use of the words "such a diverse city" in regards to atlanta)

3. a lack of actual lgbtq+ main storylines (so far) is kind of sad for a show like this. i was getting serious bi/pan vibes (as a lot of other people) from victor from the beginning, and when it was implied that victor was actually gay (while great, not shaming) as it has been brought to my attention, there was a lot of looking at a lot of straight relationship problems (please let us know more about benji)- edit 6/18: upon further consideration, it very much is a show about questioning your sexuality, I'm speaking about the other straight relationship issues, not mia and Victor's, its just the first season.

4. let us talk about cheating for a sec. never okay, in any circumstance. i feel sorry for mia that she saw victor making out with benji and the fact that he was doing any of that in the first place. victor made a choice to lie about the espresso machine and then kissed benji at the hotel and then when benji was fighting with derek, basically confessed his love and mistakes, then proceeded to makeout with benji after he broke up with derek, he built that grave and now he must lie in it. i get having feelings for a guy when you are in a relationship with a girl, and not accepting yourself enough to end that relationship but you really want it to work so you can be "normal". really, he should have told mia after he got back from the trip tho. i get being in highschool and doing stupid stuff and making dumb decisions, but for a show aimed at teens i think we should also remind said teens to make good choices even if we have to lose some realism within the character choices.

4. pilar and her decisions based off her brother pissed me off. because i honestly think that if she'd kept her mouth shut about what she knew or confronted victor about it in the first place we could have avoided a LOT of mess. did she not learn from snooping around her mother's business about her relationships that going behind a person's back doesnt end well? i did, however, like the pilar/felix friendship and was really kind of hoping that they'd get together during their coffee hangout (although now im glad that didn't happen) because they had a deeper understanding of each other. same with wendy/felix, although they do seem to much alike to work out in the long run but i still feel bad for wendy.

5. i don't know how i feel about lake and andrew, as people separate from each other. both seem to be the way they are from their upbringing (not confirmed why andrew is such an ass, but if his comment about his dad is anything to go by i bet it's got something to do with attention) but andrew seems to be less, idk, superficial? like he turned down mia because he didn't want to be a rebound, he didn't out victor, he actually stood up to early teasing the other dudes in the lockerroom were doing at victor (with teasing of his own obviously but that interaction had him on my nice list until much later). lake? lake. i honestly don't have an opinion of her? not really. i mean after hanging out with pilar i was hoping felix wouldn't go back to lake. is her name laken? i feel like her full name is laken. but they also played the "im only like this because my mom is really superficial about stuff and i do like the geeky nice guy but appearances" to "actually screw the norms im gonna makeout with him infront of the whole student body". i honestly thought she was gonna be bi because she kept hitting on mia when she was helping set up for her "date" and "big night" and there was one point where i saw her face fall at something mia said in relation to her and idk i was hoping she'd be bi (i figured early on that victor/mia wasnt gonna work and was like "oh mia/lake would be cute" but now idk.

6. okay on to the "big night", i have one word. NO. i didn't like the peer pressure into having sex. i agreed with felix when he said "your body your choice" but im also disappointed that victor made out with mia and when lake was talking to felix after victor left he didn't try to stand up for victor.

7. on to age gaps because i hadn't really thought of this at first. we'll start with benji/derek: WHAT GRADE IS BENJI?! because that determines my thoughts. if he's a sophomore that meant that he and Derek started dating benji's freshman year and thats eugh, don't do that, don't care if its a gay couple that shouldn't be happening because the maturity of the two characters is DRASTICALLY different (this is also a reason i am not a fan of cmbyn) but that would explain why they were so rocky. hoping the event at the gay bar was open to anyone not just for drinking, but not liking that fact that not one of the adults with victor were like: hey, this is a 16 year old, that's kind of wack when that dude was hitting on victor. that made me question some stuff. although i figure it might be making up for the lack of a gay bar scene in love, simon. but even then, in svthsa it's a restaurant with a bar that some people go to just to drink at, it wasn't just a bar, simon could be there but should NOT have accepted drinks from college kids, not matter how attractive.

8. i loved how bram and simon and their friends helped victor out though. i like how bram was like: hey i know my friends are a lot so here's a gay basketball league becaue there's no one way to be gay. i like how Simon talked about needing help himself just to help victor and how he said his friends were cool with it because it's a community. i like of justin(?) mentioned how being what his parents wanted was putting on a mask and pretending, not him doing drag. my favorite lines from that ep are: "and before you ask my pronouns are they/them/theirs" "'they're all gay? even that guy? he's like [insert really tall number]' 'yeah. you should see him in heels'" "or in simon's case: really unathletic" "and also because bram said that if i wore [the jean jacket] one more time he'd burn it". also katya was there. and the group hug too!

9. the back hand homophobia in relation to family is sad, but realistic and i sincerely hope his parents are kind enough not to be too harsh on victor because of it. anything they say that isn't positive or supportive of victor is bad but i hope they realize that there is more to him than that and that they can come to terms with it because it's not always that hard to be a part of that community and super religious. i am biromantic and catholic. and while there are some things i wont agree on my mom with, i know that it's more of a strike against God for kicking out gay kids from families than it is to be gay, because those parents were given trust by GOD to love those kids no matter what, and be good parents. so in the end, the parents are wrong and harmful and in the case of christians against jesus's teachings to love everyone.

10. this is fan speculation but dont think simon/bram are going through a rough patch? i honestly think it'd be a little cruel to the characters to have on of their actors be producing but then not have that relationship stay. and while it's not set in stone and obviously things happen in the real world, we have no proof script wise about there being a rift. all we have are bad photoshopped ig photos and scenes where two characters are never standing next to each other probably beccaue schedules never link up correctly for minor characters. who knows, maybe nick robinson was filming for a movie where is does have an even more major role than victor's gay guru in a series about victor so his filming time was around that. im gonna keep hope that things are okay.

11. that being said: we need more mainstream wlw content, because someone said it earlier and it really does seem to be catering to straight girls. i'll admit i did freak out when benji played call me maybe which is something i associated with him and victor but then kissed a guy because who wouldn't? we get that serenade and sweetness and then it'a ripped from us. but i did mellow out. if i flipped later it was because victor was making dumb decisions and i had to give myself a moment of compsure before i continued.

in the end, i'd say that there is a lot of growth this series needs to go through, but i also know that some people just aren't going to like it and i get that. but i also know that sometimes the best of stories have rocky starts, nothing is ever perfect from the beginning. and besides, further seasons are on hold until we figure out this covid thing, which means that you bet they're gonna be looking at our feedback. they saw what we thought before, they can do it again

i really did like it but we need more ACTUAL lgbtq+ relationship stuff from this series and better decisions on what we are teaching the younger generations, as well as what we want to focus on and realism within characters. i'm giving it an 8/10, because there is always room for growth and i really hope we get better things out of this than what we have been given in season 2.

edit: someone mentioned it really seeming like it was meant for Disney+ and i felt that. also to anyone who reaches the tags agter reading ALL OF THIS: i am sorry

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kingfallsamtranscripts2 · 4 years ago

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King Falls AM Episode Twenty: Referencing Aladdin Don’t Make It Right

King Falls AM Transcript

Episode 20: Referencing Aladdin Don’t Make It Right

Run time: 22:17

First Aired: Feb 15, 2016

Summary: Sammy & Ben get a quick update on the little ones off Route 72 and learn live on-air that not everyone had a great evening on the night of the Valentine’s Day Dance.

(For a list of characters and references from this episode see the end of this post)

[King Falls AM theme plays]

Troy: Hey folks, if you or anyone you know has any information on these hybrid werewolf slash human baby thingamagigs-

Sammy Stevens: Is that a technical term, Troy?

Ben Arnold: Can you please let Troy finish, Sammy, this is important!

Troy: Heh, thanks, little buddy.

Ben: Go on, Troy.

Troy: Well if you see those little beasts or have information on them you just got to let us know. Don’t harbor them, they could have the rabies and or the colic. And please don’t try to adopt while it’s in its human form, cause that ain’t gonna end up well. Just use your common sense and be safe.

Sammy: Thanks for calling in officially with police business and alerting the public to the issue.

Ben: Yeah, nice hearing from you on the job, Troy.

Troy: Whilst I’m still on official police biz, I’d like to make one more little statement if I could, fellas.

Ben: Dude, of course! The floor is yours!

Troy: Well the sheriff is a real foul mood regarding these hybrid wolf babies and what have you just running amok, and he wants to make it completely, perfectly, crystal clear that if anyone should have these animals or any other illegal animals in the city limits of King Falls, they will be apprehended and exterminated on site with extreme force of malice. King Falls is a zero tolerance town for any illegal animals of any kind, up to and including wolf-human hybrids.

Ben: So… uh (clears throat) you’re saying that anyone listening that may have access to a cute and cuddly but illegal animal should do… what?

Troy: Now I’m not talking to no one in particular, I mean this isn’t a warning, it’s just a fact. Sheriff Gunderson is making it a personal project to bring down any and all animals that shouldn’t be in town.

Sammy: But cats are fine, is that right, Troy?

Troy: No doubt about that. Ain’t nobody gonna get any cats while I’m patrolling the streets, friends.

Sammy: There you have it, folks. If you or anyone you know has any information on the werewolf puppies last heard from around Route 72 or any other illegal animals not allowed in the city, please contact the sheriff’s department at once.

Ben: (sounding strained) Thanks for the info, Troy.

Troy: All you listeners, you stay safe out there, alright?

Sammy: Thanks, Troy. We’ll talk to you soon, sir.

Troy: Roger that, Sammy.

[The sound of a phone hanging up]

Ben: (clearing throat) Well… that’s good information there, huh?

Sammy: Are you okay, Ben?

Ben: Yeah! You know, I’m just… I’m not a fan of the idea that Gunderson is sending out gangs of thugs to dispatch animals, man! Aren’t there real issues for law enforcement in this town? Last week, I saw old lady Turner jaywalking in front of the grocery store.

Sammy: So you’d rather Gunderson take down the organized jaywalking underbelly of King Falls?

Ben: No, I actually helped her cross the street, but the point is that this werewolf issue seems like an animal control issue! Let Ralf Harkins take care of this! Why are the police even involved, man?

Sammy: Your guess is as good as mine. Moving forward-

Ben: Yeah! Yeah, uh, moving forward we’ve got about thirty minutes of open calls lined up before acclaimed ebook author Kirk Sycamore- don’t judge this, Sammy- will be joining us to talk about his new book Dead Tom Turkey: The Perils of Uncooked Poultry.

Sammy: I’m sorry, what now?

Ben: I mean… it’s a thing. Undercooked anything can’t be good, right?

Sammy: I would assume, but seemingly that one sentence just covered everything you need to know. Cook it longer.

Ben: Then it might get dry. I don’t know man! Don’t look at me like that! Merv emailed and asked to book this guy. His book topped Beauregard’s King of King Falls, it’s got to be worth something, right?

Sammy: The perils of uncooked poultry.

Ben: In thirty minutes.

Sammy: I don’t know if I can hold this excitement in for thirty minutes, Ben. You must be bursting at the seams! Surely you’ve waited your entire journalistic career to talk about under-broiled birds.

Ben: Uh, if it makes this any better, apparently this is a novel, not an instructional guide.

Sammy: (outraged) That actually makes it worse! This is a fictional piece of work?!

Ben: Merv emailed this to us, Sammy.

Sammy: Listeners, please immediately stop what you’ve got going on and mark this down: I’m going to do my damndest to get you the info on Merv’s book of the month club. I’m on your side and I am fighting for you.

Ben: Merv, if you are listening, I do not need to be cc-ed on the email you are penning.

Sammy: (laughs) You heard it folks, that’s coming up quickly, but until then we are taking your calls, King Falls. What would you like to talk about this evening, Ben?

Ben: Whatever’s clever.

Sammy: Talking about whatever’s on your minds before what is sure to be a Pulitzer winning interview.

Ben: It’ll be good- you’re making fun- but it’ll be good.

Sammy: How could it not be? You heard our story, King Falls, now let’s hear yours.

Ben: Give us a call at the station- 424-279-3858, or hit us up at the tweet machine!

Sammy: That’s @ kingfallsam and @ kingfallssammy respectively. Line seven you are on the air with King Falls AM.

Pete Meyers: You’re saying to yourself: I don’t think Pete Meyers would listen to a show of this terrible quality, as handsome and as smart as he is. He’s probably watching Big Bang Theory or something.

Sammy: That is exactly what I was thinking, Pete.

Ben: Word for word, almost.

Pete: Look, I don’t like talking to the two of you either.

Ben: Yet you continue to call! And listen! And show up at events!

Pete: Ben if you don’t drop a little bass out of your voice I will roundhouse you right in the gullet the next time I see you. You hear me? I will skullf-(beep) your mom.

Ben: So now you’re threatening me? Do you hear this Sammy?

Sammy: (annoyed) Just hang up.

Pete: (stammering) Whoa, wait, wait, alright? You know, I’m sorry. I’m a little emotional right now… I would never intentionally try to scuff up my lugs on your face, Ben. I apologize.

Sammy: I don’t think that-

Ben: What’s the matter? Got a vampire not appreciating the hedge art you’ve been clipping into the bushes?

Pete: Well it’s kind of about him- did you say vampire?

Ben: (triumphantly) Knew it! Man, just fess up and tell everyone that your boss is a vamp!

Pete: Ben Arnold, I just bought domain to your name. And you know what? I’m going to fill up all the pages with babies and donkeys. What’s the world going to think of you? Some weirdo guy, making an internet site about babies and donkeys? Yeah, that’s right-

Ben: (all riled up) Oh yeah? Ooooooh, Pete! Why don’t you come down here, look me in the eyes, when you’re saying this huh? Huh?!

Sammy: Guys.

Ben: Meanie!

Sammy: Guys! That’s enough. Pete, state your problem or move along.

Pete: Alright, fine. I messed up big time. Worse than the time I dressed up as Edward Scissorhands for Halloween and ruined Mr. B’s hedges. Apparently I pushed a button or didn’t-really-push-a-button on a fancy thing… that’s beside the point. What I really want to know is- did you guys hear something funny on your station a week or two back?

Ben: Um, um, I’m hearing something stupid right now but I don’t know if that’s-

Pete: Come on, Ben! Be serious. I take you seriously- I almost respect you! Now, I heard a little something like maybe you guys got hijacked or something like that and I just wanted to know… you know, what’s up.

Ben: This again?

Sammy: Wait, Ben, we’ve heard this a few times actually. The shotgun guy said it, we’ve had a number of tweets about it. We don’t know anything about this but apparently another feed cut into ours about a month or so ago.

Pete: Oh sh-(beep).

Ben: Watch your language, Pete.

Pete: Watch your… face, Ben.

Ben: Wait, what the hell are you and Beauregard up to?

Pete: None of your damn business.

Beauregard: (from the background of Pete’s call) Yard boy, what are you doing in this chamber without supervision?

Pete: Uhhhhhhh what? Uh, Mr. B, uh nothing!

Beauregard: Don’t act like an ignoramus around the transmorgrifier.

[There are metallic clanks and scrapes in the background and the sound of metal pipes moving around. A whirring humming sound begins like a machine turning on which grows steadily louder]

Sammy: What the hell is going on over there? Pete?

Pete: You made me mess up again you butt smackers.

Beauregard: Don’t just stand there all slack-jawed and drooling. Turn it off this instant. Celestia!

[The whirring cuts off and there is the sound of a call ending]

Ben: What the hell?

Sammy: Well, folks, this is a first for me that I believe an on air failed attempted felony will lead us right into break.

[Cheerful music starts as a commercial begins]

Ernie: Hey there! Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books ain’t your normal bookshop. Maybe you’re asking yourself: Ernie, whatever do you mean? What I mean is that Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books is more than just a hipster reading book nook. We don’t carry none of those cheap-ass paperback books or harlequin novels here, plus you sure as hell ain’t gonna find nothing to read on your I-pad kindle whositswhatsits. For what I understand it’s only first edition leather bound books and (???) up in this joint. Maybe you’re thinking you need to gussy up your place to impress some broad or you have a real need to make people think you got a bigger vocabulary than some Johnny come lately. Either way, Ernie’s got you covered. That’s a book joke! Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books- we got fancy books! F-(beep) you, pay me.

[King Falls AM rock music plays then fades out as the commercial break ends]

Sammy: Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books? There’s two of these stores here? I’ve never even heard of one of them until Rich McGuff! I don’t know what’s more surprising, Ernie’s entrepreneurial rise in the community or him almost making me forget what happened before the break…

Ben: I’m literally afraid to comment one way or another on this.

Sammy: (amused) He is an intimidating specimen.

Ben: (carefully and slowly) If he… likes to hear that, then, yes, you are right. If not, please don’t slander that gigantic human!

Sammy: Ha, no slander intended. We’re taking calls and counting down the seconds before we get a riveting interview with the man who some call the Dan Brown of bird related mysteries.

Ben: Wow, they say that?

Sammy: No, they don’t! (laughs) The phone lines are still lit up, let’s take some calls.

Ben: Good evening, you’re live on King Falls AM.

Greg Frickard: (smugly) Well look who decided to pick up the phone.

Ben: (quickly) Um, let’s take another-

Greg: Hey, Sammy! I’ve got a topic of discussion. Let’s talk about how that co-host of yours is just gonna sit there all quiet and not even mention the fiasco he caused earlier this week at Granny Frickards!

Sammy: Greg? Is everything okay?

Greg: Oh, it’s not okay, Sammy. That- pardon my French- moron, that he would even-

[the sound of a call ending]

Ben: Whoops!

Sammy: Ha!

Ben: Line five you are on with Sammy and Ben!

Sammy: Wow, it looks like you learned a thing or two from Chet, I see.

Ben: Don’t know what you’re talking about!

Caller: Hello?

Sammy: So what happened at Frickard’s?

Caller: Are you talking to me?

Ben: Nothing happened to… let’s just-

Sammy: Not only are you my broadcast partner, I thought we were friends!

Ben: Hey! We are friends! I just didn’t think to tell you that I happened to have dinner at Frickard’s earlier in the week.

Caller: Hellooo?

Sammy: Uh huh. This wouldn’t happen to be the same night Emily was on a business meeting with Greg, would it?

Ben: I really don’t recall but it might have been… that’s a good question.

Sammy: You don’t recall going to your least favorite restaurant in town, which you never eat at, on the night of the King Falls Valentines Day Dance where your main squeeze-

Ben: Watch it.

Sammy: Where the girl you pine for-

Ben: Watch it!

Sammy: Where Emily Potter-

Ben: Thanks.

Sammy: Happened to be roped into a business meeting with Greg Frickard.

Ben: My mortal enemy.

Sammy: Paid sponsor of King Falls AM.

Ben: Whatever.

Sammy: You don’t recall if that’s the night you dined at Granny Frickard’s?

Ben: Ehhhh it’s not really ringing any bells!

Sammy: Maybe we should call Emily.

Ben: Don’t do that!

Sammy: Things coming back to you now?

Ben: Did- ugh… can I fill you in at break and not on the air?

Sammy: You’d better! You know, I’m a little sore that you didn’t tell me to begin with! And this was days ago!

Ben: I’m sorry, man, it’s just it’s not the best story. Believe me.

Caller: Hello? Can we talk now?

Sammy and Ben: No!

[The sound of a call ending]

Sammy: The turkey guy is not sounding so bad right now.

Ben: Ha, why don’t we try… lucky line one, you’re on King Falls AM.

Greg: Hey Ben Arrrnold! Why don’t you tell the whole friggin town about you showing your butt and ruining my business meeting with Emily Potter!

Ben: Greg, I really don’t wanna get into this.

Greg: Ohh, you can’t talk in front of Sammy and the whole town- what’s the matter? Frog got your tongue?

Ben: That's not a saying.

Greg: You sure didn’t have a problem causing a ruckus at the restaurant! In front of Granny no less!

Ben: Can we take another call, Sammy?

Sammy: Is this true, Ben?

Greg: You can’t deny it, Ben Arnold! I’ve got it on camera from multiple angles! You are a heathen.

Ben: Why do you have me making a scene on camera?

Sammy: Multiple angles?

Greg: I’d like to say it’s just the security cameras… but, if you must know, I hid a few cameras around the Froggery for my big night.

Sammy: You call a business meeting your big night?

Greg: With Emily Potter I absolutely do! She is the most beautiful creature in King Falls!

Ben: So you admit that it was a date?

Greg: It was a business meeting with a gorgeous woman! Take it as you will!

Ben: You’re so creepy! God!

Greg: Oh, so it’s creepy. Wanting your gramma and your future children to see the moment their future mother and I fell in love? Recorded for prosperity forever. Probably. Classily edited to voice a man and everything.

Ben: Yeah! It’s creepy!

Greg: (singing) I’ll make love to you! Like you want me to, oh baby hold me tight I will love you all through the night…

Sammy: That is really creepy, Greg.

Greg: You’re just a heathen. You don’t know what love is. What do you know? Tell them what you did, Ben!

Ben: I’m not getting into this on the air, Greg. Let’s just-

Greg: I am a paying sponsor of this show, Ben Arnold! Fess up, right now!

Ben: What are you gonna do, Greg?

Greg: So help me I’m gonna ask Granny- real nice- to pull your sponsorship money!

Sammy: Greg... are you crying?

Greg: (in a high pitched voice) No...

Ben: Hmm, so you’re threatening the show over a personal issue?

Sammy: Greg, we appreciate what you and Granny do for the show and the station-

Greg: I’m glad to see one of you does.

Sammy: But I’m not about to let you threaten taking money away from the station to pressure Ben into talking about something he doesn’t want to. Do what you got to do.

Greg: Ha! Don’t think that I won’t wake up Granny right now!

Ben: You want to talk about this on air, Frickard?

Greg: Tell the people what you did. Just tell them!

Ben: Ugh, okay. So, I made a reservation for myself at the King Falls best f-(beep)-ing Froggery the same night as your video taped date with Emily.

Greg: Keep going.

Ben: Jack-In-The-Box-Jesus, this is ridiculous. Sammy, I made a reservation and I made a scene! The end.

Greg: Details, heathen!

Sammy: Details would be nice here, Ben.

Ben: So, uh, (clears throat) I got there right as Emily was sitting down.

Greg: At a table right next to ours! He requested it!

Ben: That is also true.

Sammy: Ah.

Ben: And that’s that! I watched Greg lose his mind. Nature took its course.

Greg: He ordered every single flambé frog special on the menu.

Ben: Yeah? So?

Greg: Everybody who’s anybody knows that that’s the most romantic frog dish in the world! And you cleaned us out!

Ben: So what? You don’t need romance on a business meeting!

Greg: You ordered twenty of those things just for you!

Ben: And I paid for twenty! What’s your point?

Greg: My point? You didn’t even eat them! You brought in Chipotle!

Ben: Yeah, man! Cause frogs are gross!

Greg: You… you’re gross!

Ben: Oh yeah?

Greg: Yeah. You’re gross! A gross heathen and I… I hate you! I hate you! Ha! I said it. I hate you.

Sammy: Guys…

Ben: I’ll do you one better- I never liked you to begin with. You creep me out.

Sammy: Ben…

Greg: Well, heh, that’s not what your mom says.

Ben: Don’t you bring my mom into this.

Greg: Your mother things I am a fine, upstanding, entrepreneur, and model citizen!

Ben: She’s an idiot then! Sorry mom.

Greg: Heathen!

Sammy: Guys! (Clears throat) Okay so you disturbed Greg’s meeting with Emily. You ordered food you didn’t eat. I-is that it?

Ben: Basically! He lost it because I was probably in the shot of his candid camera date!

Greg: I lost my temper, but you had it coming! You get Emily whenever you want and I schedule months in advance!

Ben: Yeah, and you did it during the Valentine's Day Dance. Just real messed up, man. You’re a stalker.

Greg: Who showed up at whose date, Ben?

Ben: I was just having dinner at my favorite sponsor’s restaurant.

Greg: You don’t even like frogs!

Ben: Nobody does!

Greg: Why don’t you tell them how you got escorted off the premises?

Ben: You just did, idiot!

Sammy: If you were just eating, or not eating as the case may be, how did they have the grounds to toss you out of Granny Frickard’s?

Ben: Ugh. I- I may have started throwing tiny hush puppies in Greg’s general direction.

Greg: You, you, you may have? Pah-lease! You were pretending to be Nolan Ryan while you’re lobbing them at my head.

Ben: You had no right to kiss Emily’s hand!

Greg: Well you wouldn’t have even known if you weren’t, you know, stalking us to begin with!

Ben: Yeah? Well, uh, stay away from Emily!

Greg: Well I won’t have a problem doing that since she hates us both.

Sammy: I’m sorry, what’s that, Greg?

Ben: Can we move on… please.

Greg: Emily left in a huff and said she wasn’t a prize to be won. Totally thought she was roleplaying and I called her princess Jasmine… Which she also didn’t appreciate…

Ben: Nice touch, dumbass. Referencing Aladdin don’t make it right.

Greg: It’s kind of ludicrous when you think about it. I mean, she is a prize to be one. She’s the trophiest of trophy wives to ever be trophy won!

Ben: She’s pretty mad, Sammy.

Sammy: It sounds like she kinda should be…

Ben: She probably hates me now, man. Stupid stunt…

Sammy: I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Ben.

Greg: Oh yeah, she hates him big time. I mean, she hates us both, but it’s basically a win for me. She was only lukewarm to my intentions but she can’t stand Ben now. She’ll eventually come back around to the Frog Prince if, uh, he’s out of the picture.

Ben: Greg.

Greg: I’ll take your apology on air, Ben. But I would also like it written on a nice piece of cardstock so I can show it to Granny.

Ben: I sincerely hope that you catch a frog-based STD and die.

Greg: And I hope that you find another perfect woman to fall head over heels in love with, Ben, because you just struck out. You stuck out big time.

Ben: You’re an imbecile! Nobody likes eating frogs! It’s 2016, Greg! You’re gross!

Greg: Ha! Shows what you know. Some cultures consider frogs the poultry of the pond.

Ben: Literally no cultures say that!

Greg: Oh yeah? Well ask Kirk Sycamore when he comes on, he’ll show you.

Ben: I’m not asking anybody anything.

Sammy: Greg, I think it’s best if we part ways for the night.

Greg: Fine! No skin off my bubble butt! Later haters!

[The sound of a phone hanging up]

Sammy: I think-

Ben: Can we just go to commercial, Sammy? I just- I can’t right now.

Sammy: D-do you want to? Is that on schedule?

Ben: No! And, no… Ugh, just take a couple more calls before the bird man pops in.

Sammy: Lucky line one you’re live on-

Caller: Hi, Sammy. Hi, Ben…

Sammy: Good evening, Emily. I assume you’ve been listening.

Emily. I’ve been listening.

Sammy: You know what, let me put you on hold so you can talk to Ben off the air.

Emily: No! I’d like to talk to Ben on the air, if you don’t mind, Sammy.

Sammy: You know, I uh… Ben?

Ben: Uh, whatever you want, Emily.

Emily: Okay, you know I don’t hate you, Ben. Far, far from it.

Ben: I’m so sorry Emily. I just, I lost it sitting there, thinking that you were all alone with that creep and-

Emily: You acted like a real ass.

Ben: I know I did!

Emily: I’m not a child, Ben. When I told you that I would love to go to the dance with you, that was the truth. But when I also told you that I was a woman of my word and was going to honor my prior engagements, as stupid and contrived as they were, I meant that too.

Ben: I just-

Emily: You acted like an ass!

Ben: I know, but-

Emily: There’s no explanation that will make this better, Ben! You acted like a jealous boyfriend and I’m not sure if you know this, but you aren’t my boyfriend.

Ben: Can I just say-

Emily: Even if I wanted you to be before, you aren’t. So you have no right to act like this!

Ben: (Pausing) You wanted me to be your boyfriend?

Emily: Before the incident there was no doubt about it.

Ben: After?

Emily: I- I- uh- I can’t let my feelings override the fact that you treated me like a kid, Ben. I am a grown woman! I am a professional woman. I don’t need some white knight to save me from the likes of Greg! And while I appreciate the idea behind it, like I said to you and I said to Greg, I am a person! I have feelings! I’m not a prize to be won!

Ben: I really messed this up, I’m… I’m sorry. Emily if you’ll just-

Emily: I just- I need some time to evaluate what the next step is.

Ben: Because you hate me.

Emily: No! Bec- because I lo- I strongly strongly like, probably definitely on the verge of more. I mean, I was scared to death that you were hurt or worse during Lincoln’s revenge! But I was scared even more when I saw you acting like a high school bully during that meeting.

Ben: You strongly strongly like me?

Emily: I do. But it’s, it’s gonna be a little bit before I can trust you to be okay with that.

Ben: I understand.

Emily: But I… I wasn’t going to let another minute go by of you think that I hated you. Cause I don’t. But you really need to fix this.

Ben: And I will. I- I promise.

Emily: I hope so. (pause) Ah, goodnight, Sammy. Ben.

Sammy: Goodnight, Emily. We will talk soon.

Emily: I’m sure of it. Ah, I actually wanted to talk to you about being one of the library’s spring break speakers soon. I’ll send you an email.

Sammy: Oh, please do. Anything to get the kids back in the library after, you know, Lincoln’s revenge…

Emily: Thanks, Sammy. Goodnight, guys.

Ben: Hey- hey, Emily?

[The sound of a phone hanging up with a beeping that slowly fades out. The King Falls outro music and credits begin.]

References:

Nolan Ryan: a baseball pitcher.

The Big Bang Theory: A television show.

Edward Scissorhands: a charactor from an old fantasy movie by the same name about a man who had scissors for hands.

Harlequin novels: a trashy romance story.

Characters:

Sammy Stevens, Ben Arnold, Troy, Greg Frickard, Emily Potter, Pete Meyers, Beauregard, Ernie Salsado.

#king falls am #king falls am podcast #podcast #podcast transcript #transcript #king falls am transcript #king falls transcript #king falls podcast

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quazartranslates · 4 years ago

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH101

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 101: Slaughter Secret Society (III)

"Red? What a beautiful name." Mrs. Kathleen chuckled and looked at Red who sprawled lazily. "I'm afraid you're not a resident of the Village of Dusk, are you?"

Red’s feminine voice joined the sounds of the rain falling on the window panes: "Of course, I’ve been wandering in the Underground Ant City for a long time and I rarely come here, but I almost forgot the Village of Dusk’s scenery."

"Underground Ant City." Mrs. Kathleen's expression was stiff for a moment, and her red eyes changed. "I heard that that place is adjacent to Purgatory, where humans and demons live together, and there is no sun all the year round. Every month, irrational low-level demons form devil tides, and it’s disordered and dangerous. Is this so?"

Red laughed lowly, gorgeous and delicate eyebrows exuded terrifying charm in the dim light. With his laughter, a demon energy that would never be mistaken spread in the house. The mysterious man sitting on the sofa opened his eyes again. His original brown eyes became scarlet, and his red lips showed sharp canine teeth. The signs of a demon gradually emerged on his pale skin, making the unusual young man become a succubus!

Ashley, who was still lying on the sofa, almost jumped up. He looked at Mrs. Kathleen with trepidation, only to find that his guide's reaction was not much better than his. No one would mistake the obvious surprise on Mrs. Kathleen's face.

Demonization, which was a sign that a player had completely entered the demon camp, had many methods. For example, worshippers of the Devil of Slaughter had the opportunity to be selected as servants after being favored by the Devil, and they were transformed from human beings to demons under the Devil’s power, which was a secret of the Slaughter Secret Society. Although ordinary people's long-term exposure to demon energy would also lead to demonization, this demonization would only turn people into irrational low-level demons, which was far from true demonization.

Therefore, when she saw the demonized Red, Mrs. Kathleen's first reaction was that this man was already a close confidant of the Devil of Slaughter.

"I heard that Kuangshan died?" the man under the demon’s spell asked lazily with his cheeks propped up with his hands, ignoring the two people’s surprise.

"...Yes, yes. The memento ring automatically came to one of our agent's hands, and the only possibility was that Kuangshan died. We suspect that he fell into the hands of the Court and was killed by the seed of slaughter." Mrs Kathleen's momentary surprise had faded away. She put down her umbrella, made a curtsy to Red, and sat gracefully beside her subordinate.

"What a pity... He was really a very good lover." Red stroked his bright red lips, revealing the charming smile unique to a succubus. "I liked him very much."

When Mrs. Kathleen's eyes lit up, she guessed vaguely why this man named Red had come. She expressed regret for the death of Kuangshan, and then said: "A new selection ceremony will be held in another week. The agent Lie Yang is confident in taking over the Slaughter Secret Society. I think you* are more qualified."

*{E/N: Respectful form of “you”}

"Well? The Killing Secret Society... I’ve been away from the Slaughter Secret Society in the Underground Ant City for many years. I was alone in Purgatory and interacting with demons. Kuangshan sometimes came to me, and I would also go to him. Hmm... That was a really happy time." The tip of Red’s tongue passed over his lip, leaving a wet mark of color and desire. He said silently, "Since this is the place where he was in charge, I have no reason to let it fall into the hands of others. Agent Lie Yang? Oh, I will compete fairly with him."

Mrs. Kathleen smiled. "I’m happy to be your reference."

"I won't let you down," Red said lightly. There was no color of gratitude.

Mrs Kathleen was satisfied. She knew that once Red became the Slaughter Secret Society’s keeper for the Village of Dusk, as the person who recommended him, she would surely get enough benefits. Red also needed someone to recommend him, otherwise he would not be able to enter the field to attend the selection ceremony.

Two people with ulterior motives smiled at one another, tacitly.

"I will have a small party with my subordinates tomorrow night. We will look forward to your arrival," Mrs. Kathleen invited Red before leaving. Ashley, who stood firm against the wall after covering his wound, looked at the mysterious Red with trepidation, and his pale face was slightly red.

Red nodded carelessly, so Mrs. Kathleen left with Ashley, satisfied.

When the door was closed, Qi Leren slumped into the sofa, relieved. The switch symbolizing acting skills in his mind immediately turned off. He changed from the mysterious and enchanting Red to his normal self. He looked back over the conversation with Mrs. Kathleen just now, and confirmed that he didn't show any flaws. He went to the bathroom, humming cheerfully.

In the bathroom mirror, he was still dressed as "Red", and obviously showed demonization, but without the lazy and enchanting temperament he now seemed to only have a sense of disobedience. If you insisted on describing it, it was probably a sheep in a fox’s clothing. He had protested against the demon crystal being that of a succubus, but the Trails Office thought that it was beneficial for him to distinguish himself from Red's role and also suitable for Red's identity, so finally he compromised.

Maybe he really had inherited his mother's talent in this respect. Miao Li had been deeply shocked when she examined his acting skills. Interestingly, after she learned the stage name of Qi Leren's mother, she solemnly said that if she could leave the Nightmare World one day, she must visit his mother and ask for an autograph because she had grown up watching her works.

Qi Leren, who was tortured to death by Miao Li, had had a complicated mood.

In order not to accelerate the seed of slaughter’s growth, Qi Leren couldn't maintain demonization with "Devil Etiquette" for a long time. He really was more suitable to be a good man, Qi Leren thought.

His clothes were still wet, and by now they had half dried from his body temperature. Qi Leren took off his coat and was about to take off his low-waisted leather pants when a figure suddenly appeared in the mirror, scaring him into letting out a cry and bumping into the washstand. The bottles and cans on the counter suddenly staggered.

The person who jumped in from the open window obviously didn't expect this to be the bathroom, let alone to suddenly encounter the half-naked Qi Leren, and quickly turned his back to him. Qi Leren put his clothes back on in a panic - the neckline was still so low, the hem was still so short. Wearing it was worse than not wearing it!

Qi Leren covered his forehead in despair and said weakly, "I can explain..."

From outside the window came the voice of the big black bird: "Explanation is cover-up."

Ning Zhou still stood with his back turned, and the rain dripped from his coat. The slender and straight back was unexpectedly embarrassed: "You don't have to say..."

Qi Leren opened his mouth in a panic, but he didn't know what to say. He only heard Ning Zhou's low voice in the narrow bathroom: "I understand."

He understands? Qi Leren looked at Ning Zhou in surprise, his gaze burning. Ning Zhou stood for half a minute and suddenly said quickly, "It's very dangerous, you should be careful." After that, he jumped out of the open window. By the time Qi Leren came to the window, Ning Zhou had disappeared like a gust of wind.

The big black bird standing outside the window looked at him. The black bird honked and flapped its wings, flying into the rain.

Qi Leren, who hadn't had time to explain a word, was saved by the oncoming rain. In the end, he didn't understand what Ning Zhou was doing in such a hurry. Was it just to explain that he didn't misunderstand him and then remind him to be careful?

I always feel that it’s more difficult to understand the goddess now that she’s changed back to a male god, Qi Leren thought blankly. He took off his clothes and continued the interrupted washing process.

Outside in a dark corner, Al silently watched the drenched Ning Zhou disappear from sight again. Later there came Miao Li’s voice gloating in the walkie talkie, telling him how Ning Zhou just drove the airship to the court and went straight to the Boss's office. After he left, the Boss asked his people to clean up his most cherished tea set that he "slipped" and broke.

"There aren't enough people these days, yet you have to bother to look after the 'bait'. The fewer people who know about this plan, the safer it is. There’s really no way to entrust it to others. I should be able to take over for you tomorrow," Miao Li said from the walkie talkie.

"Ah... It doesn't matter." Al leaned against the wall and looked at the curtain of rain under the street lamp. "I think someone would be happy to be a free labor force."

The light in the second floor window went out, and the person in the room should have gone to sleep. Al glanced at the man hiding in the shadows again, and it was inevitable that there was a little confusion: How did these two people know each other?

------

Editor’s Notes:

Me: “Hey so underground ant city is some weird mistranslation, right? What is it actually?”

Miko: “No that’s right, there’s giant ants.”

Me: [pikachu face]

My uni’s reading week is this coming week so I’m gonna do my best to get a bunch more chapters done!! ᕙ(⇀‸↼)ᕗ

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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marvels-writings · 5 years ago

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Back & Forth (4)

Maria Hill Masterlist

Series Masterlist

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

A/N: Not sure where I’m heading with this but I think I like it

The rest of your day was uneventful. You forgot to eat dinner since more people got injured during training thanks to one of the suits malfunctioning.

After having a talk with Tony about improving the suits, you went into your room and flopped down on the bed, making a mental note to eat something for breakfast before falling asleep.

The next morning, you had forgotten to set up your alarm clock. Instead of waking up at 7:30 so, you would have enough time to eat and shower before training. You woke up at 8:47. Cursing, you got out of bed and took a shower. Quickly throwing on some workout clothes which consisted of a dark grey tank top and black leggings, tying your hair into a high ponytail, and walking towards the gym.

It was almost 9:05 when you finally got to the gym. Maria wore a navy blue sports bra and matching leggings. You hurried in, trying not to stare at her as you set your things down on one of the benches in the gym.

“Sorry I’m late, I forgot to set my alarm clock and then I didn’t have enough time to eat so shit is a little chaotic today,” You apologized, licking your lips nervously before standing in front of your S/O.

“Language,” Steve chided, you rolled your eyes.

Before you could say something sarcastic to him, Maria started guiding you through stretches. Then, she started guiding you through a thought out gym routine. You never had time to go to the gym, so you mostly stuck with dieting and going on jogs when you could. The strain of working out was more than you had expected.

The entire time, you were trying to avoid staring at Maria. The sports bra showed off her toned stomach and her arms. The brunette didn't seem to notice your staring. But everyone else in the gym noticed. You could tell by their knowing smirks and winks towards you.

“A little too much for you?” Maria teased when you were on your 8th rep of sit-ups.

You rolled your eyes and glared at her, determined to make it through. The rest of the workout was more straining than you thought it would be. Especially with Maria forcing you to push yourself during every single exercise. In the middle of it, your stomach let out a large growl, you poked it aggressively to try to get it to be quiet, even though you knew it wouldn’t do anything.

Maria frowned and asked you if you had eaten, voice laced with concern.

“Only breakfast, it’s not that bad,” You shrugged, sitting down on the bench and taking a sip of water.

“We didn’t see you at dinner yesterday,” Steve pointed out, you glared at him.

“Y/n,” Maria began, her tone stern as she crossed her arms across her chest.

You raised an eyebrow and fanned yourself with your tank top. Putting your water bottle down, you stood up.

“I was busy, there were injured people.” You defended, walking over to the jogging machine where Steve was.

Maria took your elbow and turned you around. Surprised, you faced her stern expression.

“You need to eat,” The brunette advised, you winced and pulled out of her hold.

“Later, you said to yourself, I need to train.” You argued, but Maria wasn’t having it.

“What you need to do is eat,” Maria scolded, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m used to it, can we just finish this?” You asked, almost pleading at this point.

Maria considered it but shook her head, leading you to the kitchen. You cursed under your breath, following the brunette towards the kitchen when an intern interrupted you.

“Ms. Strange, could I, um, could you help me with something?” She asked.

You turned to see a college student, no older than 23, with blonde hair, bright hazel eyes, slim features. She wore a black crop top and jeggings. You nodded and smiled, turning to Maria to ask.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” You guided the intern over to your office, assuming she needed help with her term paper.

After an hour, the intern left from your office, happy after you had edited her final paper. Just when you were about to meet Maria in the kitchen, one of the students learning from Helen Cho started asking you questions about the regeneration cradle she had in the medical bay.

Before you could deny them, the student dragged you over to the medical bay. Cho had asked her to run the cradle on one of the officers injured yesterday. But the student, Sophie, knew if she did anything wrong she would be fired. So she asked you for help.

It would have been done sooner if Sophie would have stopped flirting with you. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, the opposite. But you could care less about her antics, she was older than most of the students Helen was teaching, which must be why she was trusted with the cradle.

Before you could respond to another question, Maria stood in the doorway almost glaring at you and Sophie. You shrugged, gesturing to Sophie, blaming her for your delayed meal. Your S/O instructed the student leave, you assured her you would finish the assignment since there wasn’t much left to do and you didn’t want to deal with her whining if Cho didn’t pass her.

“Jealous much?” You asked once Sophie had left to ask someone else for help.

Maria blushed, but she hid it well, clenching her jaw and sitting down next to the cradle. You started talking to her as you worked, stating the cradle should only take another 5 minutes before you could leave. The brunette was hesitant to answer, your interaction from yesterday still playing in her head.

Maria owed you an apology, but she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. She had planned the apology in her room, planning to apologize once you were free. Biting her lip, she called your name once you were done with the assignment.

You hummed, filling out a form for the officer and glancing up at her.

“I, um, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday,” Maria apologized, looking down at the ground as she tried not to fidget.

“See, that wasn’t that hard,” You teased, the brunette looked up in confusion.

“Oh come on, anyone could see something was bothering you.” You laughed at her expression, leading her out of the medical bay and into the kitchen.

Maria frowned at how easily you read her, she was supposed to be one of the top agents at SHIELD, almost impossible to read. But somehow, you managed to do it effortlessly. Leading her into the kitchen, you started putting a pan on the stove and heating it, taking some eggs out of the fridge, and offering to make her some french toast.

“Depends, are you as good at cooking as you are punctual?” Maria asked, you laughed and cracked an egg into a small bowl.

“I’m better at cooking than being punctual,” You laughed, mixing the egg with a whisk.

“Guess being late runs in the Strange family,” Maria commented, but she noticed how you flinched when she said, family.

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked, scared she had hurt you again. You shook your head, waving her off.

“No you’re fine, I’m adopted, just thought you might want to know,” You began pouring the egg mixture on a few slices of bread.

Even though you were their family, the topic was still a bit sensitive. Your brother and your parents often got angry with you whenever you were insecure about this. But you couldn’t help it, especially when you saw comments on social media about how you just got lucky to be in a family of doctors.

“It didn’t say that on your file,” Maria muttered, you shrugged and put the bread on the pan.

“That would be my brother’s fault, it should say legally adopted but he took that out,” You explained, chuckling to yourself.

You changed the topic quickly, choosing to talk about anything else except for your family. Maria noticed but decided not to push you about it. She had already hurt you once, she didn’t want to do it again. After you finished making her french toast, you handed it to her and started making your own.

Playing some music on your phone, you smiled when your favorite song started playing through the room. You started humming while Maria was talking, dancing a little while cooking. The song was catchier and more descriptive of your situation than ever.

Pleasantly surprised at how the french toast had turned out, Maria started digging into it while you bantered about the students that had been pestering you all morning. When you started talking about Sophie and her flirting, Maria couldn’t help her anger.

Students weren’t supposed to go out with the Avengers, technically there wasn’t a rule. You could have if you wanted to, Maria didn’t understand her jealousy towards Sophie. You weren’t hers to start with, there was no reasonable explanation as to why she was jealous.

“Something wrong S/O?” You asked, sitting down next to her with your french toast.

“Hm? Nothing.” Maria answered, a little too quickly for her liking.

“If you say so,” You muttered, starting to eat.

Before you could start another conversation, Maria went to put her dishes into the dishwasher and changed the conversation.

“Is there anything you need to do for today?” Maria asked you shrugged while eating.

Clearing your throat, you browsed through your calendar in case there was anything important. Seeing as there was nothing but miscellaneous chores, you shook your head.

“Just need to get my suit,” You answered, “Why?”

“Well, I was going to suggest we train your powers, but it seems like there’s not much I can train there,” Maria answered, you laughed.

“Unless you want to take me to Kamar-Taj,” you joked, seeing the confusion on Maria’s face you waved her off.

“So it looks like I have a whole day with my S/O,” You joked, sliding off the barstool and putting your dishes into the dishwasher.

Maria clenched her jaw, trying to avoid the blush creeping onto her face. You giggled at her expression, leaning back against the counter.

“Not the entire day,” Tony commented from behind you, almost giving you a heart attack.

“When the hell did you get here?” You demanded, handheld over your heart. Maria cackled behind you, your face when you heard Tony behind you was hilarious.

“Just before you started flirting with Ms. Hill here,” Tony answered, a cocky smirk on his face

Before either of you could say anything in your defense, he waved you off.

“There’s a party later this week since Thor is coming back from Asgard, I want both of you to be there,” Tony instructed, you almost groaned.

“How does that have anything to do with today?” You asked, confused.

“Outfits? I can’t have both of you looking like this when you come there,” Tony explained, you rolled your eyes.

“What’s wrong with this?” You complained, Tony laughed and left both of you in the kitchen.

“Well, guess we’re going shopping together,” You commented, turning to face Maria.

The brunette clenched her jaw, unsure of what was to come. Maria followed you out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms to get changed for the shopping trip.

| Part 5 |

Buy me a coffee?

A/N: Hope you like it too, tell me what you think!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

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Roses : A CS retelling of ‘Tam Lin’ chapter 3

Hi, everyone! Thanks to @kmomof4 and the extremely talented @eastwesthomeisbest for their patience on this. As usual, thanks to @ultraluckycatnd who I would be lost without, the woman is a monster editing machine, and super beta. I live for my updates from her. Without further ado, here is my laaaaaaaaaaaate contribution to @cssns. It's been a while, hasn't it? I promise you it was worth it.Smut a'heckin'hoy! Two other things : This will be updating between MTFB and Hallow, as well as my CSMM ficlet. It also gained another chapter. Secondly, this chapter is MASSIVE. I tried to cut it down but it just didn't work right unless it was altogether. I promise you the smut fest was worth it.

Read on Ao3 right here, darlings!

Chapter 1/5 Chapter 2/5 Chapter 3/5

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The Soldier is feverish, when he falls upon the land of Carterhaugh. They have returned uneasily to the house, or the Lady has, her husband belongs to the forest more than she does. Her son teeters between both worlds, and with nothing to mother or care for, The Soldier becomes a welcomed friend. As he heals, and The Lady finds herself in his warm company, he becomes more. He learns how to tend to the Gardens with The Lady. She teaches him to talk to the birds, to sing to the plants, how to keep things green and blooming, and eventually how to touch them to illicit responses.

Eventually, he learns how to touch her, as well.

The Lady does not age, and as more war looms on the horizon, The Soldier finds he has only aged slightly. Where he should be gray, he has retained his youthful glow. When he asks, The Lady admits the truth about her family.

She tells The Soldier, about her son, about the Lord of the Wood, and about herself, The Lady of Carterhaugh. She begs him to come with her, to let another war rage on in the outside world, and to give himself to them. She asks him to join their dance, but not as a dancer, as a player with a role. She asks him to keep her tied to the earth, to the green that lives outside the darkness in the wood. To remind her of what she was leaving.

And The Soldier agrees. How can he refuse her?

It is his fault when she fades, no matter how much he tries. It is his fault that she is gone, and still remains.

His banishment is blessing and curse. Even still, when he hears the bells, he must answer the summons.

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Two weeks Earlier...

Killian has never liked the forest.

It's not for a lack of trying, and there is a level of bias involved, he will admit. A more honest statement is that Killian has never liked this forest, this particular forest down the hill from Carterhaugh. This accursed, twisted, blight on the land; sitting just close enough to the sea for it to have caught him in its gnarled fingers. For it to have caught them. For it to have changed Milah so much that imagining being a 'them' feels a lifetime ago.

Killian could remember her voice before it became cold and empty. He'd noticed their change, his ears pointing slightly the longer he stayed in her palace chambers, his canines becoming slightly sharper the more he ate of their food, his thoughts becoming colder and emotions numbing. The strange way time passed, and his promises to himself that he would contact Liam the next day, sending word once and then forgetting. It wasn’t him.

He tries to process these changes when a description of war to the Lordling makes Baelfire smile in wonder, an eerie and unsettling gleam there at the words of how many lay dead in trenches. It does not work then, or later. It's not as bad as the secret of their youth settling in his gut. Close, but not enough to end the longing for the taste of his beloved's neck.

There are more times than not he thanks the stars he is banished, even if banishment as an immortal is cursed and tedious work (or was), because what would he be now if he had stayed? The same sort of creature who lets mortals throw themselves at their feet for sacrifice?

Milah had reasoned with him that at least it was willingly, that at least Rumplestiltskin let them choose a life of bliss if they came, and it gave them a way out of the terrible situations they came from. Killian wasn't sure, the humans coming through looking too sick, starved, empty, or adrift to seem actively aware of their decision.

He'd accepted it numbly, even as his Milah had hurt him and others in affection. Her eyes had become sharp and cooled to a tawny color, hair flowing with invisible wind blown tentacles, cheekbones too sharp, skin too pale, nails too long, ears pointed and stretched. She no longer tasted like rum and lavender tarts, but of copper and earth. Her love making left him raw and scarred, and he'd tried to not drown in her tempestuous moods, clinging to his acceptance by her. Even when she had forced his want against his will, balking at his shame, he tried. When it became something she forced from him without mercy and in cruel humor, he retreated into himself.

Baelfire's disappearance and the note he left behind had been a mercy. When Killian’s head had cleared in the empty halls, Liam was long dead, and the Jones family long gone. He could return to Milah and beg for her forgiveness and her love, but without Baelfire that was never going to happen. He would instead be signed away with the house until Baelfire returned.

But Baelfire is not returning. Baelfire is never returning. Baelfire is lost, because if he isn't, Emma could not be there with the key in her hand.

Emma is there instead, and Killian will stop at nothing to keep her safe. He would never let her be lured to them, had taken great strides to consecrate the grounds, and had fiercely guarded her so many nights when he heard their songs call from down the hillside. It is the bells that he can't ignore, while everything else that had once been wondrously alluring now falls flat.

"You're in for it now," an amused voice calls from the wood as he steps past the threshold. The Green Fairy is there, her smiling face unlike her cousins that now dwell in what she claims was once her people's lands. No one knows what is true other than the King, and he surely isn't going to reveal anything of value. Thus, The Green Fairy torments who she calls the false denizens, wreaking havoc just for the fun of it. "She's in a mood today, the wind brought down strange tidings when it whistled through. She believes that you have let an imposter into her dominion, banished one."

Killian laughs at that, bitterly. "Are you sure it's me she's angry at?" He asks, pointing to her satchel, the huge blooms of crystalline flowers from the royal gardens barely hidden under the leather flap.

She smiles coyly, batting her eyelashes. "You didn't see me, and I didn't warn you?"

"Fair enough." He grunts, and she slips away with a wave.

She navigates the forest supernaturally, disappearing somewhere they cannot follow, in between trees, behind tall stones, more than once offering him escape with the caveat of being unable to return. At one point he had sought her for comfort, his despair at banishment leaving her pitying, even after she professed dislike of males in most species. She had given him her name, Tinkerbell, and he had tried not to laugh or offend her but failed miserably. Despite all of her kindness, she was quick to anger, and no longer ventured close to the house.

Twigs broke as another creature approached, this time someone unwelcome and familiar. He was close to the castle now, the trees and mossy floor moving around him, drawing him in as they shifted.

"Look who thinks he can come into our domain as he pleases!" a voice called, a Faery named Regina giggled, appearing by his side and slipping her elbow through his. Her long, deep red talons brushed against his sleeve.

"I have an announcement for the Queen that involves sensitive news."

Another giggling voice, this time like an ooze that made Killian feel uncomfortable and unclean. "Oh? Do you Dearie?" Rumplestiltskin drawled, a chair with him sprawled in it materializing in the gloom, the palace springing up around Killian. "What have you to tell my queen?"

Milah sat in the throne next to her scaled husband, her expression reading nothing but boredom.

Killian cleared his throat as the court appeared in different puffs of smoke, anxiety heavy on his shoulders. "Your Majesties, this may be a private matter -"

Rumplestiltskin laughed at that, and Milah stiffened in anger. "You dare tell us what our court is fit to hear -"

"Quiet yourself," Milah hissed, interrupting her husband's mocking. "Is this in regards to our son?"

Rumplestiltskin's face paled as Killian nodded once, Milah giving a thunderous clap of her hands. The palace moved around them again, Milah plucking silver flowers from trees to put in a basket.

"Tell us how he fares, and if he was well met! When will he return?" Milah exclaimed, and Killian let his heart ache for the woman she had once been. He steeled himself, Rumplestiltskin's demeanor ashy and nervous. Killian briefly wondered why this news would be alarming, but shook it off.

"The owner of Carterhaugh has returned, the woman who you saw before does indeed rightfully hold the key."

"That can't be right, she must have cheated or tricked him for his -"

Killian interrupted, shaking his head. "Queen Milah. She was married to a man named Neal. She has no idea who Baelfire is."

"Then we'll kill her and take the key, and when Baelfire returns -"

"I have come here to formally end our accord. I want to be with her and end my watch on the lands, as agreed, my Queen," Killian said calmly, trying not to betray his fear. Milah looked at him in shock, the silver of the room making her seem as if carved from marble, an angry goddess sent to smite errant worshippers. The force of her slap sent his head wrenching to the side, her eyes a deep black.

"You dare to spurn my gifts? You dare to ask for a reprieve from your post? And you dare to ask this of me for the foul creature who may be holding my Baelfire captive?" Milah seethed, her hand shooting out like a viper to grab his chin. "You are mine, and your punishment is befitting of how lucky you are to be mine. You should be grateful!" Killian pulled away from her as she tried to dip her tongue in his mouth, shaking her off. Her mouth tasted like cold, wet earth and sickenly sweet rosewater.

Killian felt bile rise in his throat, but swallowed it back to yell. "I want nothing from you, and will take nothing! Baelfire is -"

"Do not finish that sentence!" Milah screamed, and the world shook, dark fog again returning as trees formed from the mist. "Begone from my realm. I will call to you when I have made a decision, but for now your presence repulses me."

The fog lifted, depositing him at the beginning of the forest in the rotting clearing, his boots beginning to wet from the boggy groundwater. Taking a deep breath of air, he began the long trudge back up to Carterhaugh.

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Present day, post kiss

Sex had been a divisive and troubling prospect for Killian with the Fae court. Their psychological and physical abuse as they edged him for days, left him bleeding or bruised with no thought of soothing his skin or aftercare, and the degradation he begged not to consent to with disregard to any pleas he uttered had left him cold. In his exile, he rarely touched himself, and rarer still had any desire to do so.

The Fae world that originally poured vibrancy, milk, honey, and untold treasures had grown into something crooked that corroded and burnt any life. Even after his banishment, his exile did not return the colors they had taken, life left muted and gray.

Emma was an explosion, too bright at first for him to look at, and then a fire that he could not hope to seek refuge by. She would burn him, blind him, or he would snuff her out, let her smolder down to ash.

When she kissed him, neither happened and it was fireworks that did nothing but heat his body, light magnified. Emma was not a fire, but sunshine after too many long days of rain. She filled him with hope, illuminating the world again to push away the gray and reveal the hues he had lost.

When she fled, it was an all encompassing dread that filled him. He had realized that he was in love with her far before, but had been content for the cloudy summer days she brought him, peeking bits of color here or there to sustain him - her affection and attention like watering a withered flower.

Now it was alive, facing the sun happily, and it was like a sword through his chest when she took it away. She would leave, leave him in this house with its halls and secrets, leave him with the ghosts of the others that left. Killian texted her frantically, called her both through the door and over her cellular phone, tried to see her from his balcony, and had sat in the darkness staring at the lit screen of his own phone when no reply came. That was all the answer needed. The first bottle of wine was choked down in the kitchen, a bottle of cheap cabernet meant for cooking. He had asked Emma for it, had asked her for everything really, to cook meals they could share together. Eating alone, drinking alone - how could he go back?

The buried bottle of whiskey in the solarium was meant to be for Baelfire's return, but Baelfire would never return now that Emma was here with the key. He was gone, lost somewhere in the human world. If Killian had asked to pursue the lost boy's trail, if he hadn't waited in this tomb of a house, would things be different? The whiskey is smoky, a burn of fire inside him that licks his insides along with his self hatred. There is nothing more in him besides regret. Regret for not saving Baelfire, for letting Milah transform into the monstrosity she had become, and for Emma - everything he touched turned to dust. He was poison.

The emerald bloom of a flower he doesn't recognize is blurred in his drunken vision, but the thorns are sharp enough to make him curse as he bleeds over the strange petals. Even the solarium rejects him, his laugh bubbling out despite his hatred of everything around him.

Wandering the halls with another bottle in hand, he can't remember where this one was stashed. It's an old bordeaux that is wasted on him and dropped carelessly in the hall, probably hidden by Milah for some celebration - there were too many nooks and crannies in Carterhaugh stuffed with something, be it drink, memories, or ghosts like himself - it's not hard to imagine being as dead as he feels himself longing to be. Milah had warned him of this fate, her heel on his throat as he gasped for air.

"There is no escape from us for you Killian. Accept this. You are mine."

She had beat him bloody, used him until he felt hollowed out, carved clean of any kind of emotion. Breaking him took time, and she had more than enough of it. Depositing him at Carterhaugh in banishment at the end of her torture had been the hardest withdrawal he had faced until now, imagining Emma leaving him here when he had done all he could to heal. Maybe he deserved this hell; after all, the Fae were a form of damnation.

This torture was the worst and most effective the devils could have used. He was left blind now, her light too much up close, left to wander in the dark for his attempts to see her. In a room he doesn't immediately recognize as he stumbles through the door, there is a cool armoire that lets him crawl in like a beaten dog, the moth eaten linens inside serving as a soft cocoon around him. It's blissfully dark and enclosed, a coffin for the phantom he is. He should not accept becoming a ghost again, but in truth he should not have accepted a lot of things.

It might be best if he cut out his heart and buried the burden of it in the garden after all; to be blind, heartless, and complete his own transformation into the damned spirit of Carterhaugh. Maybe then the next owner might have pity for him, and he could forget about the losses that make his chest ache.

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The quiet stillness that settled over Carterhaugh when Emma padded to the kitchen was oppressive, the smallest movements tensed as if she were a thief in her own house. It felt wrong to be here, the change in atmosphere reminding her of when she had squatted in a museum's unfinished exhibit space for a few weeks, the edge of always being caught like a predator she knew lay just outside her peripheral vision. The difference was that she had caused this change, brought it upon herself by being careless and selfish and naive. He was gone. The absence of another presence was like a vacuum, and it sucked the life she had worked so hard to put back into the giant house without mercy.

No, that wasn't quite right. She was a ghost in this house because it was him she rebuffed. Others could come and go, but it was Killian who had actually made her feel like the building had a soul.

Touches of him were everywhere, even in her own decisions. She spent breakfast wrapped up in one such choice, his preferred coffee mug warming her hand under his preferred blanket that smelled like him. There was no one here to judge her if she wrapped herself in what was gone, or cried bitterly into her drink. There was only her. Only Emma, lost girl, left again and again.

Lunch rolled around faster than she could have anticipated, watching windows as she tried to convince herself to do anything but look for signs of him. His room was unslept in, bed made and tidy. It struck her as so entirely him, the lines of the crisp sheets creased with care, and she laughed out a strangled noise. He had cared about her, and she should have told him that he was cared for too. Laying in his bed, wrinkling the smoothed linens and holding his pillow tightly as she curled around it, her heart ached with unsaid admissions.

When he came back, she would tell him. Emma willed herself to have courage and take a leap of faith just this once, to trust that he would come back. He had to come back, and when he did, he would have to let her tell him the truth.

A spiteful voice slithered in her ear, its words making her lungs constrict.

He doesn't have to forgive you for pushing him away.

You don't deserve it.

Emma was tired of not deserving what she so desperately wanted. She had wanted a family, friends, safety, a roof over her head, trust, and love for so long. Fighting for those things after being let go from foster homes, after living in abandoned places, after the house with too many doors that haunted her nightmares, after Neal's destruction of her trust, after her forced committal and subsequent release, after making a family and making friends who she knew cared - Killian could be something new if she just let him in to try.

He had proven himself worth it time and time again even before her kiss, a kiss she now dreamt of in his bed. She could hear him, his mumbled and worried voice full of concern he shouldn't have over her, wetness drenching her cheeks from tears cried into his pillow.

Time is a wheel, and it turns and turns and spins and whirls as it pulls Emma along with it. It's as if her eyes are covered in gauze, her smile feels forced but she also craves having her lips upturned for him. When she is alone, completely and blissfully alone, she examines the confines of the ring that surrounds her. In the silence, there's clarity. Emma breaks it with whispered words she repeats to herself. The feel of them on her lips gives her hope, as if she can beat whatever this is by practicing the magic words that she longs to say.

'No.'

At one time, he had told her with his grin (too sharp, she can see it now, his teeth are sharpened and too white) that people knew better than to say no to him. She had done so with correction (he had called it correction when his hand met her face, or torso, or wherever he could reach with the open palm, then closed fist) and then by choice, not realizing what she had given away. First her name, then accepting all of his hospitality, giving him the power of her voice and will, and then letting him lure her into his ring completely. It glittered on her finger, too bright, overwhelming in its gaudiness. It's a wonder that she hadn't known and hadn't seen it behind the glamor.

Emma wonders idly if this is madness, if she's gone insane or broken to a mental fracture. Every time she sees him now in his true form (with the long fingers, the hair that moves sometimes as if in an invisible wind, his pointed ears and sharp teeth, the cold steel eyes that seem to glow, the carved angles of his face casting deep shadow) and cannot control her actions fully or fight against his will, she fears that her mind is lost. When people that aren't made of the glittering marble look at her, do they see what she once saw? Do they see a beautiful vision of a happy couple, that seems to exist outside of reality? Are they able to see how her face strains and her fingers spasm, all in attempts to claw at her face?

She knows that Neal and his kind can see the truth, even as hard as she tries to hide it. She knows that Neal is quick to take her hand in his (too tightly, as if to break her fingers) to still the tremors. She knows that Neal will kiss her (He always tastes of wine and honey, but now there is an aftertaste of something old, something gone sour and bitter, it makes her tongue feel as if she has licked an old battery covered in wet earth) to cement her smile.

The more she tries to break free, the more he presses down to keep her under his thumb. He grips tighter, beginning to take away the freedom of her silent reprieves by never leaving her alone. Emma can hear him in the next room, hear what he is doing and can hear the other woman as the purple haired beauty watches her with amusement.

'In the olden days, they warned you mortals not to dance with us,' She purrs, her warm colored skin ice cold when she curls to take a selfie with Emma, 'Say Hi, Emma. This is for my Instagram page, TheSeaBitch - Hey unfortunate souls! Ursula here, with Emma Gold, the it girl, hit girl, socialite you all want to be! We're reminding you to come out to Atlantica to dance this Friday, first drink is free and no cover for you other it girls. Come on, dance with us!"

Ursula twists the camera, and Emma's mouth moves on its own.

"Please, come dance! I could dance forever…" Her voice sounds foreign, but as Ursula presses a button to close out the video, she giggles while changing the filter.

"Great job, Emma. Neal will love this, after he finishes with her make sure to tell him that is our next ring." Ursula's cold fingers pinch Emma's cheeks, pushing her lips out into a pout as nails dig into the skin. Emma does not wince, even as the sharp pang of it hits her. "You have truly been such a perfect little thrall. I bet you'll be the one he chooses as his first attempt now that he's ready."

Emma grins, not understanding what that means, only happy to please. Her nose begins to bleed. Ursula looks at her with a too wide grin, the noises finally stopped in the room she cannot and does not want to see into.

Neal walks out as he finishes buttoning up his pants, his shirt open and tie slung around his neck. Emma stands dutifully as he approaches, carefully smoothing down his shirt, buttoning it and tucking it in his pants, then tying his tie. She can feel his eyes on her, watching the gentle trickle of blood slide down her face. He kisses her hungrily, the taste of copper unwelcome to her even as he groans, his eyes fluttering closed. From behind him, Emma watches the woman leave through the door, looking confused and dazed while she adjusts her skirt, Neal still pushing his tongue down her throat.

'I didn't want to do that, Em.' He whispered in her ear. She pulled off his lap in the car, adjusting her dress and then attending to cleaning him. 'I had a deal I needed to take care of, that's all. You're special. I know you are struggling with this, but I am keeping my promise to you - we are going to run away together, have a family, live in happiness. I just need to get things in order to make sure it's perfect.'

Emma stares, looking at him carefully. The air in the car shifts, as if a gust of wind has forced past the partition or closed windows.

'I don't want this Neal, I don't know what you've done to me, or how, but I don't want -'

The sleepy feeling of comfort rises again, a smile creeping up her face. Her head is so heavy, and Emma lays it in his lap as he strokes her hair, curling it around his fingers with a kind smile. He is so good to her, isn't he? So wonderful…

It echoes, again and again, how much she loves him, and how wonderful it is to be loved by him. How grateful she should be. He takes her shopping, her previous dress wet and stained, dressing her like a doll until she's perfect to stand at his arm.

They dance at Atlantica, the bright colors of outfits and gleam of sparkling fabrics among bubbles that fall from the ceiling makes Emma feel as if they are underwater.

(Part of her feels as if she is drowning)

Ariel and Ruby come, they appear as if they are parting the sea with their presence. Emma tries to tell them to flee with her slow blinking and blurry gaze. They don't. Neal is delighted when they dance with them, and when they drink. Emma watches them spin in circles while her feet step in choreography she can't control.

That night he presents her with the emeralds, the circle cut necklace, the bracelets, the earrings - the green so bright it seems as if it's a growing plant. Emma holds it in her palm, feeling it pulse, feeling it dig into her hand as if it wants to fuse with her skin. It whispers, and Neal whispers with it.

(It says, 'I am the ring of green mantle, I am the double rose with biting thorns!

I am the wands and I am the maidenhead!

I am everything that takes root, that will snap, and that will break forth!')

(Neal says, 'I'm ready. Let me show you the dark wonders, and the many terrible things. Let me have all of you. Let me have you, give me life from you, and from me.

Let me take you to what will be our home.')

(It sits heavy on her chest, just below her clavicle and between her breasts, whispering without pause. It is clear what it wants, it is clear what he wants, and Emma will not give him this. The whispers curl like worms, they crawl over her and make her itch. It laughs at her when she thinks about contraception, cackles when she thinks about her birth control pills taken religiously when Neal sleeps.

It tells her they won't work. It tells her that she should be happy. )

Neal takes her hand, and they step out of his car. It's different, less ostentatious, the neighborhood they are in is dark. The house looks shabby, a window boarded up and a wilted chain link fence covered in rust so foreign to her now, it pushes a memory of who she used to be up from the depths of her mind. She was on streets like these before. She fought. She punched back, made her own fate. No fairy godmother's, no fairies at all. No one saved her except her.

Rage prickles down her spine, sweat beading at the nape of her neck.

Ariel and Ruby step out of the car behind her. They look tired, almost asleep on their feet, but with happy smiles that make them look drunk. Emma knows they aren't drunk.

They stepped inside the house, it's dark wood paneling smelling like cigarettes and dust, the linoleum as they walked into the kitchen peeling. The cupboards are crooked and an old fridge hums when they turn beside it to go down to the basement. The wood stairs squeak under their steps, until her foot connects with white stone. They walked further, until Emma first sees the house for what it is - The house with too many doors.

Neal twirled her, laughing, and through opened doors she sees the shivering women with their blank stares. He spins her into him, and she feels the press of him against her, his breath on her neck. Her fingers curl closed, nails biting into her palms as she tenses. Neal rocks her, slowing as he turns her to look at him with confusion.

"We're finally ready. You're ready, and I," His grin infectious. It made her stomach turn. "I found you. You are so beautiful. You are so perfect for this. I made you, and you will make for me, in turn."

The rage under her skin heated to fury. No one has made her anything, and she is not this. She is not owned. She will never be owned. She isn't nothing. She has never been nothing!

She is Emma Swan, and she is not about to be shackled into this prison.

"You're… Why aren't you smiling, Emma?" He asked.

Emma blinked, touching her face. She wasn't smiling. She was frowning. Her eyes narrowed, watching Ruby and Ariel shuffle into a room. Neal touched her cheek, pushing her gaze back to him.

"Emma," Neal gritted out, his face contorted in fury. "Why aren't you smiling?"

Emma didn't answer, her hand gripping the emerald necklace by its whispering pendant and jerking it off of her neck with as much force as she could. It shrieked at her, she was sure she heard it scream, heard the cry of it like some horrid changeling infant.

She ran, ran to the steps, Neal on her heels just behind her. He caught her ankle and yanked, they fought on the stairs as she kicked at him. Her fingers dragged along the wood, splintering the boards. Another strong pull and her head landed hard on the cool rock, dizziness taking over, Neal looming above her as darkness began to bloom in her eyes.

'Oh, Emma.' Neal said with a nauseating fake tone of concern. "What ever shall I do with you?"

Emma tried to turn her head, tried to turn away from him, but she couldn't move as he dragged her.

"Emma. Oh, Emma." He tutted, her hair wet against the stone, her fingers tracing the trail that followed behind her. "Emma, Emma, Emma." He sighed.

"Emma," it was sighed, more exasperated now, but so much gentler. "Swan, you need to get up."

Emma blinked awake with a deep gulp of breath, sitting up to find a red eyed and bleary looking Killian watching her on the edge of his bed. He looked as terrible as she felt, which should not have made her heart warm as it did.

"You're here? You're back?" Emma whispered, and his sad smile at her brought more tears to her eyes.

"I didn't leave. I got a bit…" He blushed, sheepishly scratching behind his ear. "I got a lot drunk, and ended the night sleeping in another room. A closet, actually. I just woke up."

"A closet?" Emma asked, trying her hardest not to laugh, even as her eyes misted.

He chuckled nervously. "An armoire, actually, if we're being technical."

"Semantics," Emma teased, gently, an awkward silence following the way they fell back into easy conversation. Swallowing hard, Emma scooted over to his side. "Look, Killian, I -"

"It's alright, Swan. I overstepped, and I need to put my feelings for you aside." He shrugged, even as Emma gaped at him. "I shouldn't have kissed you, it was inappropriate and -"

"I kissed you, Killian. I was the one, and - Wait," She blinked, trying to clear her head. "Did you say that you have feelings for me?"

Killian nodded once, sagely. "Aye, lass. I do. I won't act on them again -"

"No!" Emma blurted, her hands finding his. "I want - No. I have them too. I don't want - I didn't want you to leave, and I thought you -" She paused, and he gently stroked her knuckles in encouragement as she met his penetrating gaze. "I've been abandoned so often. I was scared to let you in, to feel all of this so strongly, but thinking you left…"

"If you'll have me, darling," Killian whispered, his arm moving to bring her into his embrace, "You have no reason to fear I'd ever leave your side."

Emma laughed, happiness and a sense of joy flooding her veins as she looked up at him from where he held her against his body.

"I am so sorry for freaking out. I'm sorry for -"

"Apology accepted," Killian interrupted, kissing her forehead. "You needn't have even one, You have -you had an aversion to touch, and I -"

"Can I kiss you again?" Emma asked, surprised how breathless she suddenly felt.

Killian grinned, shaking his head. "No."

"Oh," Emma let out an exhale, trying to not show her hurt. "I just thought -" Killian held up a finger to silence her, tracing it along her lips to the apple of her cheek where he cupped her face. His eyes crinkled at the edges, the blue of them light and clear of worry despite their redness. He leaned closer, licking his lips, whispering against the corner of her mouth as she gasped.

"Because, darling, this time I am kissing you, if it's alright."

Emma nodded, swallowing hard. He pressed against her, and she molded herself to him, half wondering if it was a dream as her hands curled behind his neck. Her tongue slipped along his bottom lip until he was moving his head to deepen the kiss, his own tongue tracing hers while she let out a moan. This seemed to spur him on, his teeth joining the exploration as he gently bit on her bottom lip, her body grinding into his with sudden need. When she returned the teasing nibble, his answering groan made her shiver while they broke away for air.

"I think," Emma panted out, smiling at Killian's darkened gaze and mussed hair. "I like this whole you kissing me thing."

"Good," Killian smirked, his mouth trailing kisses up her neck as he pushed her back to lie on his bed. "Because I am not going to stop unless I bloody well have to."

His hands roamed her body over her pajamas, her eyes falling closed in bliss when he moved to cage her body and kissed her senseless again and again.

"I've wanted this for so long, Emma," he murmured, holding her as they lay together under the covers, her head resting on his chest. "You're beautiful, and everything I could have wanted. I thought - I thought I had ruined everything -"

"Shhhh," Emma murmured, rolling herself onto his chest, her legs straddling him. She had felt the sweatpants covered heat of him against her thigh before, but now it twitched back to life underneath her where her own warmth emanated. Killian hissed, his eyes widening. "This is a happy beginning."

Leaning down and hungrily kissing him, she pulled a wrecked keening noise from his throat when her hips rolled against his. His hands clutched at her ass, and she let her own fingers wander, splaying a palm under his waistband. He gasped when her warm palm lay against his hip bone, pulling away to search her face.

"Are you - Do you want to? It's just fast -" He let out a groan when her fingers stroked down against the heated flesh of his thigh. "Say that this is alright, Emma, because we don't have to -"

She silenced him by removing her loose top and bra, his gaze raking over her body more than appreciative. "I want this, Killian. I want you, all of you."

"Then you shall have it, love." He grunted, pulling her down to press hot kisses up her neck. He sucked on an earlobe and she whimpered, heat pooling in her belly. Frantically, Emma helped him rid himself of his clothing, kissing down his chest while her clever tongue found his nipple. The kisses turned more wild and possessive as they rolled, her body ending up over his. His cock jutted proudly against his stomach when she sat on her haunches, looking him up and down. The coil in her belly felt tight already, but the idea of his considerable size in her made it burn with want.

Emma let herself go, giving in to what she so desperately desired.

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Emma sat looking at him with lust hazed eyes, the green darkened to a stormy sea glass. Her body was perfect, her breasts bare above printed shorts and some lacy garment that had matched her discarded bra. He had felt the silky softness of it when tracing her hip bones, but now as she took off the shorts covering them his breath caught at how positively sinful they looked against her creamy skin. They did little to cover her heat, and as she shimmied out of the other garment he could see how they framed the globes of her ass perfectly. The wonders of this new world did not cease to surprise him.

Killian suddenly felt self conscious, realizing that her touch was driving him mad quicker than he wished.

"It's - ah - been a while since -"

"Me too, me too, but we'll go slow." Emma tentatively licked the large vein that throbbed under his skin, sending all thought scattering.

"You don't have to -" he tried to start as she lowered herself into a position better suited for her exploration. Braced on his forearms, he watched her smile up at him teasingly, pumping him a few times with a loose grip that he rutted into slightly.

Fae women were cold and calculated when they'd joined him, Milah growing fond of pain, but this was heaven in every sense of the word. Gods above he was a fool to not see that sinful smirk and not know Emma was perfect, fucking perfect -

Licking up his length, she bobbed and he lost all thought; his head falling back as his hands gripped the sheets tight enough to make his knuckles go white. Her mouth was so warm, sucking and swirling on the head of his cock then bobbing down to his base. He wanted to buck, but resisted to stay on the sword’s edge of pleasure, only thrusting upwards when Emma's tongue danced along a sensitive ridge.

"Em - Emma -" Groaning, he pulled her up, kissing her roughly, nipping at the corners of her mouth. Her moan tasted like warm honey, tongue guiding him into a gentler and slower pace that unraveled the rest of his thinking, the pads of her fingers nimbly finding his cock again. Killian gripped her hand firmly, pulling away from her lips to chuckle darkly under her ear. "My darling, I want this to last. I want to taste every inch of you - and you're making that incredibly difficult."

Her voice was wrecked and came in small pants, much to his satisfaction. "You did say," Emma let out a little moan as his hand found its way past her navel, "You liked a challenge."

"Mmmm." Killian left wet kisses in a trail down her neck, the bite right under her collarbone causing her hips to buck, and letting his fingers slide past her pushed aside silky underwear. The fashion in the modern age had never once been of interest until now, his other hand pulling down her shorts to reveal the barely there wet fabric his fingers swiped through.

He groaned and Emma ground herself down on his fingers, with a slight gasp that made him ache for not being between her thighs already. Her walls were velvety around his fingers as they slipped in and out, curling them he could feel her neediness as he wound her up, thumb rubbing circles before withdrawing his soaked digits. Popping them in his mouth as she watched, grumbling expletives at him for leaving her so close, she whined at his groan of pleasure at her taste. For a brief moment his eyes fluttered shut, her scent and the taste of her on his tongue both too much and too little. Emma looped her own wet fingers around the base of his cock and his eyes shot back open.

Killian pressed his lips hard against hers, hungrily and frantically desperate to feel her body against his. Pulling clothing aside to help her wiggle out of those blessed, beautiful, frustrating, underwear, then she was sinking down on him and he was praying to the stars behind his eyelids that he wouldn't spill right then and there.

He thrust up in ecstasy, pressure building as she ground her hips down, so tight and wet and perfect. She was perfect, he needed -

Lurching forward, Killian pulled Emma tightly to him, hugging her close and changing the depth of his strokes.

"Killian, please!"

"Oh, my love, you have no idea how good you feel, how much I need to hear you say my name just like that. Do you want to come with me, my darling?"

"Yes!"

"Good Gods, please - Please, tell me what you need -".

Her hand led his, his fingers working her as she tensed. "Killian!" Her nails bit into his back as she moaned into the juncture of his neck, everything condensed to a fluttering tightness as his own release chased just behind hers. The hand that clawed at his back gripped him tighter reflexively while her body tried to hold him everywhere they met.

She rolled her hips, his head falling back at their last jerking movements, bodies shuddering together in embrace.

"You are bloody spectacular," Killian whispered, leaning back again carefully, cradling her against his chest with his other arm. "Magnificent."

Emma smirked. "I couldn't tell, you give absolutely no praise or direction."

"Be fair Swan, you must understand that I never thought to do this, and I never believed that you would return my feelings."

"Me either. I suppose I could settle for you though." Emma's smirk turned to a smile of bliss, a late aftershock rippling through her when she adjusted, attempting to pull away. Killian made a keening noise, eyes falling shut as he bit his lip and she rose again, just slightly in exquisite torture. She could feel his once softening member twitching inside of her still, and she moved in a slight shift again. Already sensitive from before, his thighs quivered. The Fae could be thanked for his better than average recovery, at least. Decades of their brand of torment had one silver lining.

"Emma, I - fuck."

"Your begging? That was sexy for me the first time, so let's see if we can move past this being a one time thing. I am hoping with practice, thorough practice," Emma rolled her hips in a tight circular grind, earning a string of expletives as Killian’s back arched again, "We can make it an every week thing."

Flipping her as she squealed, he slowly started to thrust into her as she moaned.

"Start small, work our way to twice a day?" he grinned ferally, withdrawing in a slow pull to push back in at a teasingly languid pace.

"Whatever you want!" Emma whimpered.

His breath was hot on the shell of her ear, fluttering starting in her belly again. "Then we probably should make sure that our form is perfect, too."

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Emma found Killian making coffee, hugging him from behind with her face pressed into his back. Nuzzling against the thin cotton shirt, her hands dipped to splay along his hip bones. He made an indecent noise between a purr and a breathy moan, turning to pull her against him in one swift motion. Hips rolling into her, he hoisted her up into his arms.

"A man can't get a moment's rest around here, Swan." He grinned as he pressed her against the wall. Kissing her roughly, and forgetting about their breakfast until the clock chimed noon.

"You are just as insatiable." Emma smiled, untangling herself from him on the floor of the library. His bark of laughter and gentle poke in her ribs brought a grin to her face, her stomach rumbling loudly against his cheek.

"I suppose I should make something for you to eat." Killian whispered, rubbing his scruff against her navel. "It's only fair when I've had seconds of my own."

She hummed, offering a hand as she stood, leading them both toward the kitchen.

Weeks passed like this, intimacy laying itself over every aspect of their routine and relationship. Emma moved into Killian's suite at some point along the way, a vanity added to the corner while her bathroom products were gently reorganized by Killian much to her chagrin.

He made it up to her with enthusiasm, his tongue making her toes curl into the sheets as she rode his face. Hearing him moan into her folds and grip her ass tightly sent her higher and higher, up into the clouds. Even more pleasure came from watching how it affected him, if she turned to watch his cock leak, or his hips twitch upwards with desperate need for friction.

When she moved to swallow him with the same abandon he gave to her clit, he practically screamed. His whimpered breaths and puffs of hot air made her clench, until he was throwing her aside, eyes wild and face a mess of her own wet slicked juices.

Emma reveled in pushing him into a sort of frenzy, making his eyes go almost black with lust and his lips curl into a carnal smirk while filth poured from his mouth - with slight pushing Killian seemed to forget the prim and shy gardener in favor of becoming wild, animalistic. The things he whispered in her ear, as he licked up her thigh, in the soft nuzzle of one of her breasts; they could be soft and flowery, or erotic wishes that made her cheeks flame and heat lick her core.

Nowhere in Carterhaugh was too sacred to keep them from each other.

In the music room, light streamed in as the curtains lazily danced in a chilled breeze, Killian's hands threaded in the halo of her hair, setting a rhythm as he thrust up. His thighs spread further, shakily, while his other hand grappled at piano keys, playing a loud accompaniment for his groans as she bobbed her head and sucked him within an inch of his life. Feeling him send a rush of his hot cum down her throat while chanting her name made her feel pride, his protests at her interrupting a practice forgotten by both.

His hands felt amazing on her skin; the rough calluses from his hard work in the garden circling her nipple, while his soft lips followed behind could practically make her come on the spot. Emma would catch him watching her through the haze of their fucking, half lidded eyes looking up at her while he let his nose lead a trail for his lips to follow. She loved the way his palms kneaded her thighs, or pulled her up roughly, or splayed on the small of her back when he took her from behind. In the solarium he draped himself over her body in a possessiveness she hadn't ever known, torturously grinding against her to turn her into a writhing mess. Killian had chuckled into her shoulder when she had begun to whine in her throat, his hands gathering hers in a stretching thrust that made her see stars.

The way he mapped her body, admitting his memorization to her earnestly, his fingers stroking lazy patterns through the sheen of sweat on her stomach - it should have terrified her. She should be running, should know better than to stay and let someone pull down her barriers with not only sex, but with every part of their presence.

A snow storm moved in outside, both of them knowing the other well enough to know the edge it brought to their nerves. Killian made tea, while Emma chose a movie and created their blanket fort over the couches in the den. They lit candles together, the power going out as it always seemed to in heavy rains, but it was fine when they were snuggled together with warm mugs watching the screen of her laptop. Or, in Killian's case, watching her. The mugs were pushed aside, going cold while the movie played for no audience, the two preoccupied by their own rising needs.

His hands held her bouncing breasts, massaging them as she rode him with a deep circular grind that made both of them feel electric.

"God's above, oh - oh my darling - do you know how good it feels to have your sweet quim tight around my cock? You're going to make me come undone my love, please don't stop!"

Emma was being lit, flickering herself, wanting nothing more than to combust. "Close, close again, ah! Ah - Killian, I'm so so close -"

With a hiss, he moved to be above her and she lost the heat of him inside for the briefest moment before he was filling her again. He looked unearthly in the candlelight and occasional flicker of electricity, his chest hair against her nipples and the softness of the blanket underneath her a perfect combination.

"I can feel you, I want to feel you come - bloody hell , love, I - fall apart for me, fall for me, just like that," The hoarse whispers echoed through the room, the cords in his neck as strained as the groans tearing from his throat. "Good God's, Emma , just like - fuck, just like that!"

Her body shook, muscles tightening and fluttering as a fire that burned away everything but ecstasy consumed her. She was aware of the half scream she let out, but with everything pinpointed to the pulse just below her belly, she was more conscious of Killian chasing his own release with abandon.

He grunted, the hard thrusts using her weight and his muscle to ease the fury of his pace, her legs pulled over his shoulders to hold her flush and bent. She heard him utter a string of curses, the clear sign he was close, his formality falling away. Every aftershock and subsequent clenching as her body tried to hold him earned a gasping moan practically torn from his throat.

"Fucking hells, Emma - I'm - God's Emma, you feel so bloody amazing - so fucking good, Emma, yes," The word came out with a hiss, the 's' sound long in his mouth, his eyes pressed close when her hand snaked to stroke the sensitive skin below where they were joined. She squeezed, feeling the tightening in her palm as his body drew up, the vein pulsing under her thumb. " Emma , Emma, I fuck - Fuck !"

She felt his hips stutter, heard his cry, and then he was filling her with erratic strokes. Emma attempted to soothe him, the whimpers and guttural pants sounding almost pained. Lowering her legs to wrap around him, and her arms embracing him around his neck and shoulders, she peppered his face with soft kisses while the pads of her fingers ran over the lines of his muscles. His head fell, bowing from her ministrations, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck as his weight pressed down on her.

"Am I crushing you?" he whispered after a moment.

Emma shook her head, her fingers raking through his hair. His sigh of contentment and the feeling of his eyelashes on her collarbone filled her with another sort of weight instead.

She felt safe.

Not only safe, but cherished. When had anyone ever been so tender and treated her like this? Sex aside -

(No, not sex. Not fucking. He loves you, he loves all of you : body, mind, soul and heart. You know this isn't just sex and that you can't go back - )

His lovemaking aside, Killian cared about her more than anyone she knew. His love and affection were everywhere, like dust motes in the air. Sometimes seen, sometimes not but still present, and other times catching the glints of sunshine he brought into her life, valuable and precious, like gold leaf or diamond dust.

Stranger still, was knowing that Killian knew she cared for him too. There was an understanding that they both had rough edges, they both had secrets that lurked just out of sight, neither of them wanting to examine them closely. His scars and his gentle questioning that accompanied his careful touches or the way he flinched if she moved too quickly changed their relationship for the better. Emma felt his ease afterwards grow, the worry replaced by trust. On more than one occasion Killian had mentioned in quiet mumbles that his last partner had been too rough, averting his eyes.

On more than one occasion, Emma had taken his hand in her own, whispering that she understood. When she told him he never had to be ashamed around her, he scoffed, rubbing at his eyes.

"I mean it Killian," Emma waited until he turned to look at her, his face inches from her own. His eyes were wet, the blue the color of an overcast day. "I choose to see the best in you, no matter what. Whatever you have done in the past, the acts committed by you or against you, I know who you are. You could never be the villain to me." He allowed her to kiss his cheek, and curl into his side. Emma basked in the gentle embrace as his fingers traced trails down her hip bone.

He treasured her, Emma began to believe.

She was a treasured thing, falling fast and headlong into disaster, but didn't care about the consequences when that feeling was bestowed on her so liberally.

Even if more terrifyingly, she had slowly begun to realize that she, too, treasured him.

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To say that Mary Margaret Nolan was perceptive was an understatement. David and Double Ems had been Skype calling her almost every day since they had left for Christmas, as if they were looking for something. When nothing had happened the calls had tapered off slightly, until a few days after Emma and Killian had begun whatever it was that they were doing.

It was if Emma had writing on her forehead her friend could read, her eyes scrutinizing every detail and the questions becoming pointed. Finally, Emma had gotten an invitation to a big announcement from Mary Margaret, in which Killian was invited. When Emma booted up Skype, Mary Margaret's face greeted her, but her eyes were searching for someone else.

"Where's Killian? Did he not get my invite?" She asked, the accusation clear in her question.

"Look, about that -" Emma began, but Mary Margaret shook her head, scowling. She actually looked angry to Emma's surprise.

"I cannot believe that you stupid oblivious idiots don't realize that you not only are pining for each other, but you are perfect for each other, and he is head over heels -"

"We're dating, Mary Margaret." Emma admitted, begrudgingly interrupting the tirade. Seeing the look on her friend's face, Emma groaned. "Don't make it weird, but I really like him -"

"Ha!" Mary Margaret craned her head to yell across the room. "David you owe me 20 bucks!"

"No, really? Ugh, gross," David shouted from somewhere she couldn't see.

"Invite him on camera, I want to see him! We miss him!"

"You miss him, I want to question his intentions with Emma - " David grumbled, walking past in the background.

"Does he know about…?" Mary Margaret trailed off, her eyes searching Emma's face on the screen.

"No. Kind of. He knows something happened but not the details. I haven't told him about the psych ward, the fire, and Neal." Emma chewed her lip, wondering how Killian would react to her past, her hallucinations of the house with too many doors, her paranoid delusions about her friends disappearing, the fire she thought she had caused - would he still accept her knowing that she managed an illness so severe? Would it change the way he looked at her, from adoration to that smothering gaze of pity she got from everyone else?

"Are you going to? Because if you slipped back into that psychosis -"

"Eventually." Emma said, cringing at how fast the half truth slipped off her tongue. Mary Margaret's eyebrows rose, her lips pressing together. Before she could object, Emma pointed off camera. "I'm going to go get him, please don't talk about it when I get back, OK? Please don't go all Psychologist on me, I promise I'll tell him, but on my terms and later on. I'm not ready yet."

"Oh Emma," Mary Margaret sighed, her face softening. "Of course."

"I'll be right back."

Killian was waiting for her in the kitchen, handing her a hot chocolate as they settled in the living room and loaded Skype on the television's screen.

"Hi Kill - Are you both seriously in a pillow fort?" Mary Margaret asked, leaning in to her computer so her eyebrows took up the frame. "Oh my God, that is too cute, David look at them -"

"I told them to be cool about us dating," Emma grumbled, Killian letting out a snort of laughter as he kissed her cheek.

"Hello Nolan family, thank you for the invite to this, er, announcement." He blushed, and Mary Margaret giggled again. David sat beside her, finally coming into views she backed up.

They practically glowed together, David relaxing immediately when her head rested against his shoulder. Looking at where their own mirrored image was displayed on the screen, Emma could see Killian’s loving stare, her face in a resting contented grin. She looked - they looked -

"So, this announcement. I'm sure you've probably figured it out Killian, but my sister is completely oblivious to almost everything, it seems." David snickered as Emma protested, Killian laughing along with Mary Margaret.

"I might have," Killian admitted. "Congratulations are in order, I believe?"

Emma blinked, staring at Mary Margaret and her bright smile. She glowed.

To say Emma wasn't perceptive was an understatement. Her brain clicked, but she could not push the words from her mouth in surprise.

"Double Em, you're -"

"We're pregnant!" She laughed, David kissing her as Emma stared at them in complete shock. "We did some calculations, and it looks like, um," Mary Margaret's blush deepened. "It happened very likely at Christmas, most likely -"

"You -" Emma stammered, her own face reddening. "Seriously? You guys conceived in my house?"

David laughed at her grimace, before they were all laughing. Emma found herself curling into Killian’s touch, listening to her brother and Mary Margaret's plans for what they were going to do with a nursery, and how she was feeling, how they'd found out (a fainting spell during grocery shopping, of all things), the call stretching on as they simply enjoyed each other's presence. Killian traced his fingers along her back, pulling her to him immediately once the call was over and she had shut down the television.

"Mary Margaret says David and her are sending us a gift, which I'm a bit afraid for. She mentioned to me last time that they found these garden gnomes, and David thought it might spook you because you don't like -"

"Gnomes are not traditional Fae folk, at least not here. They're bloody Scandinavian, and only go after those who smell of unwashed feet." Killian sniffed, annoyed, holding her tighter. He let out a hum of pleasure when she turned to sit in his lap, eyes half closed while he stared up at her. "You're so beautiful."

Emma giggled lightly, feeling warmth in her chest and a lightness that relaxed her further. She yawned, and he followed slightly after, both of them curling into the pillows that made up their fort.

"Hey Killian?" Emma mumbled, exhaustion catching up on her.

He replied in a slow, groggy, hum of a question.

"You think you could be happy like that with me?" The question hung in the air, and Emma wanted to regret it, to take it back as her eyelids drooped.

"I think I could be anything with you, Emma," He whispered into her hair, falling to a low murmur. Her eyes blinked close, longer and longer. "I'd be happy just like them if not more. Enough to never need to compare. Incandescently happy."

The warmth Emma had felt earlier settled on her skin as she drifted asleep in his arms.

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Happiness felt strange to Emma, no real comparison to be made in the fleeting moments that it stayed in her life. She had thought she was happy, though worry and doubt had plagued her. She had wondered why others accepted happiness as it being the end all be all; hanging their joy to hitch their wagon on. Now, she knew.

There was a slow summer laziness to happy contentment, even in the early spring chill. It was as if happiness rolled over her, laid over her in a warm blanket she only wanted to burrow deeper into. Killian was tender, sweet even, his gestures so different than she had ever known. Her one night stands or Neal's rough uses for her had never shown any level of care Killian did, even in the smallest of actions. He kissed her shoulder every morning, bringing her coffee while reading her the news in their bed. He knew how she took it with more sugar than cream, knew how she sometimes needed time to forget her nightmares, and knew without needing to be told that probing the issue was not something she wanted.

I'm his eyes, she swore she could see something akin to understanding. It was too terrifying to bring up yet, but he seemed to read her. How he figured out how she had no idea, but Emma desperately wanted to hope that maybe he would listen. Maybe he would tell her she's not insane.

Maybe he knows about the darkness, about being adrift over pitch colored seas that have no end, no fathoms of depth. Maybe he knows what it's like to ride out waves that crash and claw through daily life, as if they were ships in the night passing close now, so close. As long as she doesn't ask where they're going or what lies below they can be fine forever, but for once Emma didn't want that; Because there is something that lurks, It lurks in his eyes and warnings, something scares him that he can't say, and it's the first time she has found another lost soul. She has found someone she empathizes with, her own monsters behind locked doors bursting at the hinges. He might take comfort knowing he isn't alone.

For all she knows, he might know of houses like the one Neal took her to. He might have seen places with too many locked doors, might have had too many missing friends, coworkers, neighbors, and acquaintances, might have wished to bite his tongue off than say anything but 'No' ever again.

And as she watches, she finds herself wondering if he might be the one she'll let herself sink into, not worrying about a destination any more as she simply enjoys the peace of floating in this current, no longer afraid that there might be monsters in these depths trying to pull her under.

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Summer tore through Carterhaugh's halls in a heatwave that made Emma thankful for fans and the installation of central air. Killian didn't notice the sweltering air, but she made it clear she felt free to notice him. Where she had blushed and her eyes had shied away before, now she was free to ogle without reservations. If he made more efforts to keep her eyes on him, he could always claim coincidence.

"I noticed before too, you're not exactly stealthy, Swan." He'd grinned into her jaw, kissing softly as they finished the final window of the main rooms. The stained glass lit the room in fire hues, as if the wooden floor was licked with a visible sign of the heat. Emma had been dressing much more delectably in turn, short trousers and tops with no sleeves that showed off how defined her arms were. Occasionally they had no straps, or fell just below her breasts baring her stomach and midriff.

When they lazily made love in the shade of the tree outside, blanket on the grass, it was easy to convince her to bask naked with him in the sunlight after. Emma was a marvel, a wonder, and she was his. Everything about her was like magic, her eyes finally full of trust when she looked at him. She was his, and he knew that meant all too soon she wouldn't be.

The bells came as July rolled through, Milah summoning him down to the wood. The house was finally finished, and Emma was exhausted. They had eaten a light lunch before she had fallen asleep on the couch, lost to the world in a well deserved nap. Kissing her forehead, he rolled out of their bed to stand before the Fae Queen's judgement. Emma stirred lightly, the whisper of his name sweet as she hugged a pillow with a sigh. It bolstered him, his feet carrying him quietly down the hill under the dark sky.

He could hear the hunt before he was even more than two steps into the forest, Tink running past him, then turning to run back with a smile.

"They are in a mood today, Killian!" She laughed, greeting him with a wave as she giggled. Somewhere to his right, he heard Regina bellow, the whinnying of her steed a shriek. He sighed, shaking his head as he continued deeper. Tink pouted, walking backwards on her toes with small little hops. "Killian," She whined, "Aren't you going to ask me what I did and why -"

"Why is it every time I have to kneel before the throne, you have agitated the hornet nest that resides on it?" Killian growled. She blinked, her pout turning to shock.

"I - I'm sorry. I try to distract them, and I have to keep the forest at bay…" She mumbled, looking down.

"All you do is make them angrier!" Killian gritted out, his jaw twitching. "I don't care about the forest, I just want Emma to be safe, and you -"

Tink straightened, her shoulders tightening as she stomped toward him. "I'm trying to help you, you dense - you idiot - you cabbage brain!" She sputtered, her face going red. "The forest spreads when Milah sees you, her avarice and wraith twisting the land further. I'm trying to keep you and your mortal lover safe. I'm trying to distract them!"

Killian blinked, his mouth falling open. "I didn't -" He stammered, trying to apologize. Tink shook her head, looking to where approaching war cries grew louder.

"I have to go. Just know that I have been trying to help you and this forest since… Well, forever. Neal wasn't your fault, and Emma, she -" The hoofbeats drew closer, and Tink took a sideways step towards a copse of trees. With a flick of her wrist they curled into an arch. "This place is cursed. I wish I had the time to explain, and I wish you would come with me. I'm sorry."

She took a leap through the arch, disappearing into nothingness as the horses swept through the clearing. The wind whipped around him, mud spraying his clothes as the horses passed. Regina cackled, the shrill noise falling away into the night as they chased their tails. He pressed on, the wood shifting around him, revealing how true Tink had been. Vines with thorns the size of his hand curled around dead trunks of trees, branches stretched crookedly to claw at the sky. The grass grew in black or a deadened white, no creatures stirring or making noise. The palace shifted, leaving him at the entrance, briars and strange shivering plants that snapped dripping jaws at him.

An audience awaited him when the throne finally appeared before him, the glinting silver, diamonds, opal, and glass blinding him momentarily and the jeers of Fae deafening him. Milah sat on the throne with her legs crossed, lapis lazuli and silk dripping off her body. Gold sat beside her, his tunic and breeches seemingly made of golden thread, adorned with jewels. Neal's empty throne lay empty, a red fur lined cape draped over it.

Milah stood, taller still, her features even sharper. Her lips twisted in a sneer as he knelt, the crowd booing louder. Milah raised a hand and they grew silent.

"I've thought about your proposal, and I know that you are not telling untruths, because I cannot march to Carterhaugh and kill this usurping tart myself." She drawled, clearly annoyed.

"Milah - " The crowd jeered, but Milah swept her hand toward the crowd.

"Silence!" The room fell silent again, and she stepped down towards him. "That said, regardless of previous arrangements, I request that you end our accord."

"Thank you," Killian sighed, even if the crowd voiced their upset. "You don't know how -"

"Sign it in her death blood," The crowd cheered, and Milah grinned widely. "Then you may go free."

"No!" Killian reached for Milah as she turned away, the guards moving forward from his peripheral. Shouts and cursing echoed around them at his loud refusal. "Milah, No, I won't let you -" An apple hit him on the shoulder, raucous laughter beginning while the crowd followed suit. Rocks pelted him as he curled into himself and sat, covering his head and face. He heard Milah's calm voice hush the crowd again.

Her heels clicked on the stone, nails digging into his chin and neck to raise him up. He struggled slightly, her strength unsettling, but her eyes worse so - cold and dead.

"We need a sacrifice, Killian. Do you dare deny me that which is my right? My duty?"

He rasped, her claws pulling free. Backing away, Killian coughed until he could manage a lowly growled whisper. "You shouldn't be sacrificing anyone to that thing. It's changed you, all of you. Please. Milah, I loved you. Now my heart belongs to another and she is… She's everything."

Milah's face pulled taut in rage for a brief flicker, disappearing into an almost convincing aloof shrug. "You have swayed my choice then. It will be you."

"Mí, please -" Killian tried again, taking a step forward, but she was in front of him in a flash.

Silver tendrils of lightning moved around her, crackling in the air, her eyes and skin gleaming an emotionless metallic.

"Do not address me like we are still lovers. Like you still come to my bed, and still ask me my desires. It will be you, or it will be her. You have offered yourself as her replacement by refusing to follow my directives." The stands that held the crowd began to smolder, Fae fleeing in all directions. Killian covered his face with his arm, staring at where Milah was bathed in bright light that made the air ripple in heat. "This shall be your last year."

There was a thunderclap that made his teeth rattle, then Milah stood back in front of him, her features carefully schooled even as her chest heaved. They stared at each other, Killian seeing her for the creature she was.

"October then?" he asked. "I have until then without your games?"

"Yes." Milah answered simply, returning to lounge on her throne.

Killian nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "Fine. That's… fine. I'll enjoy every second of that time with her."

"Enjoy it," Milah spat, the facade of boredom failing completely. "Enjoy every second with your human whore."

Killian practically ran from the woods, clambering up the hill like a madman. As soon as he stepped foot through the doors of Carterhaugh he felt the curse shift. He almost fell to his knees in relief, wanting to weep at this newfound freedom, but then Emma was flicking on the light in her bed clothes looking at him in fear.

"You were gone, and I thought - I just knew you wouldn't - but I've trusted before and…" Her voice caught, eyes widening as he stepped forward to sweep her into his arms with a spin.

They had thirteen months together. They could do anything, go anywhere, they had thirteen months -

"Are you alright then? I was so scared, I didn't know what you were doing. Did you just go for a walk or -?"

Killian pressed his lips to hers hungrily, memorizing her taste and swallowing her protests. "I just - I really desperately need to kiss you."

She gasped, her legs parting for his knee to grind against her center. "Well, I'm not complaining," Her head fell back and he sucked on her earlobe, her hips bucking against his thigh as she keened a pretty noise. "But Killian, are you certain you're alright?"

"I will be. Let me love you tonight, properly make you dinner, drink wine with you, tell you how beautiful you are in every language I can speak -"

"What has gotten into you?" Emma squeaked out. He squeezed her ass tightly, eliciting a squeal. "Killian!"

"Nothing, nothing darling. I only want to get in to you, and taste you - "

Emma pulled away from his grasp, her smirk teasing. "You said wine and a dinner?" Her stomach growled loudly and her cheeks flushed a bright red.

"I suppose that is well in order first." Killian laughed, adjusting himself and trying to calm his racing heart. Quickly tossing together a salad, Emma argued with him over health benefits until he looked it up using her lap held computer. An ad caught his eye on the side of the page, Emma leaving to grab cheese from the fridge.

The lap-top type-writing device still gave him pause, although he handled it much better now. It had helped to have the learning curve of having a bank account that did not actually hold gold or coins, and to research. Killian had made a few mistakes, but managed to figure out the complex web that made up the interred net.

They sat down to dinner together, opening a bottle of white wine that sparkled in their glasses. Everything felt new now that he was freed, as if everything around him was clean and refreshed. With no hold barred, he prepared himself, readying for the brutal shutdown Emma might give him instead. His questioning wasn't subtle, but Emma was more than oblivious to it regardless.

"If you could go anywhere, have a dream vacation or a do over of traveling you've done, where would you go?"

Emma mulled the question, chewing her salad slowly. She liked it, complaining about the greens until he'd added an unhealthy amount of cheese. It still counted as healthy enough and a win in his books.

"You know I was married, but I don't know if I told you just how bad my honeymoon was," Emma said slowly, her voice the impassive, steely, aloof tone she reserved for touchy topics. "I - I know he cheated on me, and I know he… He wasn't a good person. I just thought, well, even then I expected him to be there."

She shrugged, briskly and Killian blinked.

"What do you mean, 'be there'?" He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Emma pushed her fork into the greens with a stab, sliding them around the plate. "He uh, he skipped our honeymoon; the entire thing. He had to work, so I stayed in our room and did our couples activities alone." She didn't look up, even as his hand found hers and she smiled wryly, remembering. "When I got back home he told me I'd gained weight. Truly, a winner."

"Oh, love -"

"It's fine. I mean, I don't want another honeymoon, I don't - that's out of the question, but, I'd love to go back and feel what it was supposed to feel like." Laying her fork down, Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, chuckling. "All those activities I skipped, or couldn't go on, or were supposed to be romantic and were instead so lonely… I just wonder what it would be like to do those with…"

Her eyes met his, and she blushed, yanking her other hand from his to stab at her salad again.

The tickets weren't expensive, the resort covering more amenities than he could fathom. His passport and making the documents that he needed were trickier, his supply of false papers just new enough to only need minor doctoring. Driving down into town with her in tow and their suitcases squirreled away in back, he watched her fidget with the radio.

"I don't think you've ever driven me anywhere before," Emma groaned, ducking her head from sight. "Ugh, there's that crazy old lunatic. He's obsessed with our house for some reason."

The windows were fogged, but Killian could hear the man's cries as he paced on the corner.

"The Fae! The Fae are at Carterhaugh, they will take your soul and beget you with changeling child to steal your youth, your luck, your fortune! Stay away from that cursed place, stay away from the wood where nothing grows!" The man screamed, waving his hands. He began to laugh wildly, running at their car while shouting nonsense, but Killian pulled away as the light fortuitously changed.

Emma peeked out, looking around confused as they turned off the main road, and onto the turnpike.

"You said we were going to the hardware store?" She asked, and he nodded, turning up the radio as he drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers. Emma cocked her head, squinting as she looked at him. "That's… That's not a lie, but it's not the truth either. What's going on?"

Killian mimed being affronted, his hand rising to his chest. "I need to go to the Hardware store, Swan. Can't a man simply just go about his business to get a certain piece of hardware with his lady love?"

"Not when you are acting so weird about it. Where are we even going? What store do you have to go to out of town?" Emma's eyes narrowed further. "You never go out of town."

"For you I'm making an exception. It's a special part. I need it, and it's only available at this certain store." He smiled, watching her chew her lip.

They arrived at the airport, and Emma refused to get out of the car as he unloaded their luggage onto a cart.

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes slitted slivers of sea glass. He tried to hold back his laughter, but settled for a grin as he held out his hand. "I don't know what crazy idea of yours you have cooked up in your mind, but I -"

"Take a leap of faith, love. I promise you that it might be worth it," Wiggling his eyebrows and giving a wink, he watched her fight a smile. "Very worth it."

"I'll come in the lobby if you tell me -"

"I'll tell you everything on the plane Swan, but we are running behind schedule because of your stubbornness. I would hate to have to go by myself and leave you here without my presence." Her hand met his, fitting perfectly when he pulled her forward. A valet took the car, Emma trying her hardest to hide her excitement.

"On the plane?" She murmured as they moved through TSA, some sort of inspectors that roughed up his intimate places a bit too much for his liking. He produced her passport when asked, watching her eyes widen as she read the ticket. "Wait, is this what I think - oh, Killian, I appreciate it but we can't, the house -"

"Will be there when we get back, and is being watched by Widow Tremaine," He grinned, and she smiled back with a brightness that made his heart soar. "If anything gets past the threshold of Carterhaugh, that old bat will kill it thrice over."

"The garden though, and my appointments with the contractors -"

"Will be fine, and rescheduled."

"I didn't pack -"

"I packed for you. Anything else, we can get there. The Navy taught me how to pack lightly, I have half a suitcase for you to fill with whatever you like."

"This is -" Emma sputtered, unable to protest.

"This is an adventure, love," Killian pressed his lips to her temple, swaying her when she pressed into him. "Really get into, alright? This is for you. Don't freak out or worry about anything but being happy."

Shadows flickered across her face when she looked up at him, but after a moment, she broke into a smile she reserved for him.

"Alright. Let's do this."

They stepped on the plane together, and off hand in hand.

He purchased the part he needed at the store a few blocks from their resort, the lovely bit of hardware gleaming in the jeweler's hand before it was placed carefully into a plush velvet box.

Emma was waiting for him when he returned, the masseuse just finishing her work. Killian signaled for her to go, his hands taking over to knead Emma's soft skin, feeling where the sun had kissed it on their beach walks and scuba trip.

"This is truly -" Emma giggled, swatting at him when he kissed down her back while tickling just under her ribs. "This is perfect. This is everything I wanted."

"I'm glad, darling." Killian smiled, Emma pushing him aside to sit up.

"No, I mean it. This… Killian I know this has been a lot, and I'm not ready for big declarations or conversations, because I just - I can't," He met her eyes, trying to hide his longing for just that, but she continued, her hands sliding up his chest. "But with you? I want to. I want that, all of it, and not because of this or anything like it."

"Emma -"

"Because of all the small things, and maybe yes, parts of this grand gesture, but mostly because I… I want to have someone build pillow forts with me, and looks at me the way you do."

"I always knew pillow architecture would show the true mettle of my wooing a beautiful woman." Killian grinned, her gentle smack to his chest making them both laugh.

Emma's lips met his, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, and if he was not completely hers before that moment, it didn't matter -

He belonged wholly and entirely to Emma Swan when they parted to breathe each other in, and after when that wasn't enough and their bodies demanded more.

Lying next to each other while his bones worked on becoming something other than jelly, Emma curled into him like a perfect fit. In the back of his mind October loomed, it's thirteen months a ticking time bomb to this heaven on earth.

"Hey, Killian?" She murmured into his chest. He glanced down, her half lidded gaze soft as he held her.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Emma."

Holding Emma even tighter to him, he savored every single second they had.

#Courtorderedcake #September #2020 #September 12th 2020 #Captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fanfiction #Cssns #12th

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