#does care for his wife! he stands up for when she goes manic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ktheist · 4 years

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(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives. even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,” was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

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featherfur · 3 years

Text

Meng Yao should have been around when Jiang Cheng was running around with his head cut off trying to make disciples out of rogues and convince everyone to get started on the war. I just think he’d see this, probably manic, idiot who needs help and is 100% willing to be bossed around and who really doesn’t care about Meng Yao station in life because he’s just fucking desperate and wants to die but can’t because Yanli and just go “actually I’m interested”. Because Jiang Cheng would riot if he knew Meng Yao wanted to go back to his dad, and well Jiang Cheng is very pathetic when he thinks he’s being left behind (“You’re leaving me for the Jin just like Shijie? Tears and loud words for you! Tears and loud words dor a thousand years!”)

And Meng Yao would have a spot in Lotus Pier where he is VERY clearly wanted, he probably doesn’t become sworn brothers with anyone (or LXC and NMJ realize that no one needs to give the Jin any more influence and become sworn brothers with Jiang Cheng) unless it’s Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian (unfortunately WWX will still probably be killed or hunted at the very least but atleast Qin Su is alive? Maybe having MY around will help calm JC into the fact that LWJ wants to bang his brother and help him so JC can convince WWX to let LWJ atleast play for him, then maybe WWX can accidentally let slip about him already destroying one half and LWJ can help destroy the other half… Dunno if the Wen Remnants survive either sorry, honestly I don’t know if anyone can stop JGS in the long run)

So there’s two ways this goes: (under read more I have Thoughts)

Meng Yao DOES go to the Jin Sect still because JC gets wanting your Dad’s Approval even when he’s a dick AND he protects Yanli who immediately adopted him when JC showed up to the war with him. Without being stuck between a Rock and a Hard place (sorry NMJ not everyone is a annoyingly stubborn with their morals as you and MY is being hurt :( leave him alone :(( ) MY is able to continue being pressured without breaking and even though JGS keeps trying to get him to manipulate JC, MY won’t and won’t manipulate NMJ either and every time he goes to Lotus Pier to ‘look into’ the Jiang Sect he actually just spends the week being plied with children and listening to Jiang Cheng explain the fashion industry Again and talk about silks vs cashmeres vs wool so he just gets a vacay and is more prepared to stand up against his dad.

Also JC and Yanli catch on pretty quick to Madam Jin abusing MY because they were there after Madam Yu would hurt WWX and they know the signs of trying to hide the pain and Yanli suddenly starts Show Up whenever Madam Jin tries anything because that is her Didi now and she will protect him and if anyone ELSE tries to mess with him she will rip them apart like when Jin Zixun tries to bother WWX.

JGS does eventually manage to frame something on WWX but MY intervenes immediately by telling JC the truth and without the ‘did my kinda insane PTSD ridden brother so this?” Panic thoughts JC gets his people and is waiting for the force of Jin and smaller sects, with his two sworn brothers on either side. Because yeah NMJ absolutely hates the Wen but can he really ignore LXC and JC? Plus NHS on the side? He’s only there to protect WWX, anyone else can get fucked and even then he’s only protecting WWX because JC asked him too because NMJ thinks WWX sucks for choosing the wens because he’s very much of the one track ‘the wens suck’ mind. MY pretends he has no idea what’s going on but he does summon Jin Zixuan on ‘accident’ who shows up, annoyed he had to leave his kid, and is like “are we really going to accuse Nie Mingjue, known Wen hater, of protecting Wei Wuxian and lying about his innocence? Because his sword is the same size as my body and I’d rather Not”

(okay he’s more polite and subtle but that’s the gist) somehow Jin Guangshan dies, I’m voting Yanli poisoned him because I think Meng Yao is 100% willing at this point to simply take the abuse because Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen aren’t essentially telling him to murder his father and that he’s stupid for not holding harder to his morals (sorry NMJ,,, you just,, I love you but MY is hurting and he’s not as stabby as you) NMJ is still very much crankily telling him his dad sucks whenever they meet but Jiang Cheng gets all sparkly whenever MY is around because MY will say he’s Doing Good, so there’s only so much room before JC start just biting anyone who even looks at MY wrong. (NMJ says he’s proud of JC once and JC just starts crying and NMJ UnderstandsTM why MY won’t leave him alone)

But Yanli has to be the one to kill him because MY wouldn’t because he’s a filial son and probably hasn’t lost his hope he will be Loved, Jin Zixuan wouldn’t because he’s like the only one in the entire show not down with murder, Madam Jin is not about to give up the power and money that comes from being the wife of Jin Guangshan even if JZX would take care of her because Yanli clearly is willing to rip everyone apart who fucks with her family and unlike Jiang Cheng is willing to change the status quo, and if JGS dies on a hunt they’ll blame WWX so Yanli just poisons him slowly and he dies from ‘illness’. JZX takes power, Meng Yao is told he’s amazing twelve times a day because JZX can do busy work and argue against anyone but he cannot have a small talk conversation to save his life. Life continues peacefully, Jiang Cheng keeps kidnapping JZX’s advisor because he misses him. Meng Yao knows how to control literally every single great sect but he’s busy chasing down his nephews and helping Jiang Cheng avoid marriage offers to do anything.

Once Jin Guangshan died, LXC and MY both swooped in to have the Wen Remnants moved somewhere else to ‘civilize’ them (using LXC’s own words here) and WWX is very much caught between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji arguing over who he’s going home with and he’s honestly never felt more Loved TM. WWX spends six months to break the rest of the tiger rally under the grumpy/watchful eye of NMJ who still isn’t happy anyone from the Wen’s is still alive but he’s weak to puppy eyes and also when he’s being strong armed by his sworn brothers, MY, and NHS (though he still keeps an eye on the actual cultivators, he’s pretty much forgotten the rest of the Wen Remnants exist he just cares about the ones who know how to use a sword). Wangxian happens, idk how I’m voting for a wild Jingyi another orphan decides that he wants to meet the Purple Angry Man and body slams into WWX’s legs trying to get to the Purple man and LWJ catches him and it’s a full on romantic moment of staring into each other’s eyes while Jiang Cheng makes disgusted noises and Meng Yao pats his hand and just tells him to accept it.

Or Meng Yao stays in Lotus Pier because Jiang Cheng has problems and Meng Yao loves a messy loudmouth aggressive bitch with a secret heart of gold. Also Jiang Cheng is the exact kind of Demi-aroace dummy to not realize Meng Yao has a crush on LXC and keeps sending him over to Cloud Recesses to help with trade or something and MY gets to hang out with his crush constantly.

MY is Jiang Cheng’s personal advisor since WWX is currently refusing to process his trauma and staying in a very traumatic place. MY does try to help but WWX doesn’t trust him and probably only half trusts him around JC, BUT MY is very good with kids and helps work with JC on how to slip WWX supplies while negotiating directly with Nie and Lan without Jin glaring over him this time, and Jin Zixuan is more than happy to help when he can because again he’s just like the only one with modern morals and wants Lotus Pier to be strong since if all the sects fall then well the fucking demons/ghosts they hunt will eat them. So WWX is slowly atleast not ready to kill him, Meng Yao finds out WWX already destroyed half the Tiger Tally and tries to get him to let NMJ and LXC help him destroy it further (because that ties the three sects closer and so WWX won’t just stab someone if someone isn’t happy about the Wen’s existing)

Yanli poisons Jin Guangshan again because I think that’s the best way for him to go, Meng Yao does grieve but also that lasts for three minutes before Jiang Cheng shows up with some children he found in Yunmeng and Meng Yao needs to explain to him again that just because the kid latches on doesn’t mean you can take them home. But with JGS out of the way it’s a lot easier to strong arm NMJ into letting the Lan take the remnants (JC and NMJ still aren’t happy about it but NMJ can’t fight the three other sects and JC is getting his brother back and he’ll take the Wen living if that means WWX is too) and WWX returns to Lotus Pier. The truth of the golden core comes out probably via WWX having a flashback or panic attack or something (or that one theory of Yanli knowing,,,) words happen, WWX storms off to find LWJ.

Meng Yao wonders why he likes messy cry babies but still helps out Jiang Cheng because they’re technically brother in laws and also because he really does care about him. Wangxian happens and now Jiang Cheng is really pissed but WWX also said he wasn’t going to just up and leave so they’re on a rotating system but honestly everyone’s just waiting for them to move permanently to Lotus Pier because Lan Wangji has this giant hole in his heart for kids who love Wei Wuxian and Lotus Pier is filled with kids who are Jiang and therefore are insane ans love WWX.

Personally I think this one is the least likely but it sounds very nice right?

#the untamed #mdzs #Jiang Cheng #Meng Yao #Jin Guangyao #fix it #sorta #Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue #Jiang Yanl #Wei Wuxian #read more #don’t take any of this seriously lmao pls I’m just fucking around

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alccaddsccup · 3 years

Text

The Proposal (chapter 3)

this is the final part of my series the proposal

chapter one can be found here

chapter two can be found here

miss parsons x mc

mr konevi x mr chambers

warnings: angst and fluff

tag list: @ineedskyecrandall

lmk if you want to be added to the tag list or have any suggestions for me!

———————————————————————

Clara sits at the drawing room table with her head in her hands. She doesn’t take note of the presence in the room until a pair of sturdy arms envelop her

“I can’t believe they’re gone already” Mr Chambers’ voice cracks slightly and tears soon follow. Clara buries her face into his chest as she returns the embrace. No words are needed to express the sorrow that the two of them share and they stay like that for some time, only feeling slightly comforted in their shared emotions

After a few moments longer, Mr Chambers disentangles himself to sit opposite Clara and stares at his hands laced together upon the table. This gives Clara the perfect opportunity to study the man before her. His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is barely groomed; one of the lapels of his blazer is upturned and he looks utterly despondent. Clara wonders if she also looks in such a sorry state but cannot bring herself to even look in a mirror for more than a few seconds. Every time she catches sight of herself it reminds her of her wife. Those lips were ones that Annabelle would kiss, those cheeks were ones that she would stroke and Clara knows that Annabelle would rush her to the vanity immediately if she could see the condition of her cosmetics. But she cannot keep the sadness at bay for more than a few minutes, and so the tracks of tears are well worn into her face.

The uncomfortable silence is broken by Mr Marcalster rushing into the room, almost out breath

“I’ve done it, fetch them at once!” He waves a piece of paper in the air with a triumphant grin and an almost manic look in his eye. Mr Chambers doesn’t seem to have even heard the exclamation as he continues to stare down at the table

“Sir, what are you talking about?” Mr Marlcaster places the paper before them and Clara studies it intensely but cannot make sense of the scribbles. Mr Chambers takes the paper into his hands and reads through with a furrowed brow, it seems as though he does not understand either. After a few moments Mr Marlcaster sighs

“I’ve managed to rework the estates finances. We have enough money to spare for the full-time employment of Mr Konevi; Although we do have to cut back on the number of horses we use to pull the Edgewater carriages” Mr Chambers’ eyes widen, gleaming with a spark of hope, but soon return to their teary state

“It is too late sir, the pair of them have already left for the docks” Mr Marlcaster checks his pocket watch with a grin

“I believe the ship departs in about half of an hour” Clara springs up from her chair and, without waiting for Mr Chambers, rushes to the stables. She immediately begins preparing a horse for the ride down to the docks and Mr Harper jumps up in surprise

“Is everything all right my lady?” He retrieves the saddle hanging on the wall and helps Clara with the horse

“I need to get to the docks immediately, Mr Marlcaster has found a way for Annabelle to stay here!”

“That’s great news, I wish you luck on your journey” With that, Clara leaves the stable atop the horse and navigates her way through the busy London streets; trying her best to do so with haste.

When she approaches the dock, the first thing she notices is the gargantuan ship towering over the bustling crowd below. The wooden hull creaks ominously and if this were any other time, Clara would take a moment to marvel at the huge vessel and wonder how something so large stayed afloat. But she was on a mission to find her wife and she would not stop until she had done so.

Once she had handed her horse over to a stable hand, Clara rushes into the crowd but before she makes it very far, she hears a deep voice shout out “All aboard”

Clara feels her heart hammering in her chest, if she could not find Annabelle, she would not see her again for a year at least. She barges her way through the crowd, not caring who she knocks into until a familiar voice sounds beside her

“They’re over there” Mr Chambers points somewhere far off in the crowd. He had finally made it to the docks and being so much taller than Clara, he easily spots the pair. The both of them try to make it through the crowd as quickly as possible, looking rather undignified as they push and shove those around them. At one point Clara loses track of Mr Chambers, but she does not have time to go back for him so she forges ahead. When she finally approaches the ship, she can see Annabelle and Mr Konevi making their way up the boarding ramp and so she shouts as loudly as she can

“Annabelle!” her wife turns her head wildly, trying desperately to locate the source of the call. Clara waves her arms and shouts again and she finally gets spotted, although she was spotted by the wrong person

“What are you doing miss?” The crewman looks disdainfully at her “A dignified lady like yourself should not be causing such a scene” Clara barely registers what the man is saying as she peers round him to look at the ramp, but Annabelle is nowhere to be seen

“Excuse me sir, is there a problem here?” Clara cannot control the grin that breaks out across her face as she instantly recognises the voice as belonging to Mr Konevi. Annabelle stands just behind him, her expression mirroring Clara’s

“This woman is causing quite a ruckus”

“Do you mean the admirable Countess of Edgewater?” Mr Konevi raises a questioning eyebrow at the crewman whose face goes slack in horror

“I beg pardon milady; I hadn’t realised who I was speaking to. Please, don’t mind me” he bows courteously before departing from the trio. Annabelle turns to Clara with a nervous yet hopeful gleam in her eye

“Have you come to rescue us from our lonely fate?”

“Well, yes actually!” Annabelle’s eyes widen in surprise and Mr Konevi’s brow furrows

“Mr Marlcaster has found a way for you both to stay here in England!” At that moment Mr Chambers comes rushing over and pulls Mr Konevi into a brief, yet fierce embrace.

“Yusuf, you do not have to leave me” Mr Konevi smiles fondly at his husband

“It seems I will not be going anywhere after all” the pair depart, walking so close that their hands keep bumping into each other. Clara turns to Annabelle who has an unreadable expression

“Annabelle, are you feeling alright?” Without saying a word, she grabs Clara firmly by the arm and hurries down the busy streets of London taking several twisting turns before reaching a narrow alleyway, barely wide enough to fit two people in

“What are we doing here?” Clara turns to Annabelle with a deeply confused expression, but before she can get an answer, her lips are parted by a passionate kiss from her wife. She quickly loses herself in the feel of such beautiful lips upon her own and she brings her arms up to her lover’s neck, looping round loosely and pulling Annabelle impossibly closer. After a few moments of bliss, the pair pull apart just barely, so that their foreheads still touch

“I was going to miss you so much” Annabelle whispers breathlessly

“You do not have to miss me any longer my love” Clara places a final delicate kiss on Annabelle’s lips before pulling away

“Shall we head back to our townhouse?” Annabelle smiles at how Clara references the house as belonging to her as well, despite the fact she did not own any of Clara’s property

“I think that sounds wonderful” the pair depart for the townhouse, with arms looped and shoulders brushing

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #choices desire and decorum #choices d&d #choices desire & decorum #miss parsons x mc #annabelle parsons x mc #annabelle x mc #annabelle parsons #desire and decorum #desire & decorum #mr konevi x mr chambers #mr konevi #mr chambers

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anonymouslyangsty · 3 years

Note

What do you think Assassin!Taka would do if he figured out how much his grandfather was manipulating him? Also, what do you think of an alternative Assassin!Taka where his first kill was his grandfather?

Very good question and very good concept.

Minor derailment for a sec (i swear it's relevant), but let's talk about Takaaki and Toranosuke in this au.

(warning, it ended up not being 'a sec'. I bolded the part where I ACTUALLY start talking about your question)

I feel like Torano's downfall was a bit of a slippery slope. He needed to gain some momentum before he went to murder and child grooming, as ya do. And I think the major step towards extreme corruption came through Takaaki.

I feel like those two have a rather tense relationship early on in the au. Takaaki knows that some of his father's dealings are fishy. Perhaps not criminal at that point, but not exactly clean either.

But Takaaki is still human. He's got a wife and young son to care for. If his father's slimy actions got out, they'd ruin the Ishimaru name. Plus, he isn't hurting anyone, right? So Takaaki leaves it alone.

That kind of dismissal only lasts for so long however, especially when you're as honest as Takaaki. Eventually, he's not going to be able to turn a blind eye, even if acting puts himself and his family at risk.

Perhaps Torano does something that goes a bit too far, that actually hurts people and ruins lives. Takaaki wouldn't be able to stand for it and, even if he cares about his father, he isn't going to deny his duties as an officer because of it.

But I think that Takaaki would make the critical mistake of trusting the goodness in his father just a BIT too much. He thinks he can talk sense into Torano, get him to change his ways without ruining his whole career. All Takaaki does is give him ample warning.

Torano cares about his son. Takaaki is a decent man, hardworking and honest. But he'll be damned if he lets his soft heart get in his way and ruin his legacy. So when Takaaki threatens to release info on Torano's illegal activities, he knows he has to keep his son quiet.

Toranosuke is very careful with how he does it. He can't just kill the man. If Takaaki shared his suspicions with anyone, his sudden death would be damning.

So he does the next best thing. Torano gets Takaaki declared clinically insane and locked in an asylum. He weaves this detailed, damning story, bribing as many people as he needs to to create a false narrative. Takaaki attacked him in his office, spouting conseracy theories and accusing him of murder!

Toranosuke deeply cares for his son, so he obviously wouldn't send him away unless it was for his own good, right? And if Takaaki's wife suddenly finds herself overwhelmed with life under the camera's eye, well. What kind of grandfather would Toranosuke be if he didn't care for Taka while his mother was away visiting family? He's just looking out for his family after all.

So that's all to say that Takaaki is alive in this au, locked away from crimes he didn't commit. After so long of being told he's insane, he slowly begins to believe it. Maybe he was becoming paranoid, seeing crimes where there weren't any. Maybe he had overreacted. Did he attack his father? He didn't recall doing so, but there was video evidence, so it has to be true.

It takes years for Takaaki to be deemed sane. By that point, he's convinced himself that he really had made up all those accusations. Taka's already gone at this stage, off training for his grandfather's purposes. But Takaaki thinks he's just off at boarding school.

Now I'll get to the point of this 'little' tangent. I think Takaaki's the one who proves to Taka that he's being used. Takaaki's an officer, likely far higher in standing than in canon. So it's plausible that he'd be employed to investigate a string of strange deaths that's caught the eye of a few officials.

It would be quite interesting for Takaaki to realize that the 'string' of murders is actually far longer than they'd realized. It'd be even more interesting for him to realize that his son is the one behind the deaths.

Takaaki is a father first and an officer second. There's no way he'll allow his son to take the fall, especially not once it becomes clear that Torano placed him into the role. Takaaki would absolutely try to make his son see reason, which means making him see that he's being used.

Okay NOW I'll actually get to the point.

If Taka found out he was being used by his grandfather...Well it sure wouldn't be a pretty sight. We already know how Taka responds to his world being destroyed: denial, unresponsiveness, and manic behavior. That's how he responded upon learning that a guy he was friends with for 3 days was a killer.

Assassin!Taka doesn't see himself as a murderer. He sees himself as an executioner, dealing out capital justice to those who abuse their power. He kills those that are irredeemable, who harm others without any empathy.

But if that was all a life, if he was working for the corrupt rather than against...He'd be just as bad as the corruption he sought to destroy. He'd be a murderer.

Put that revelation onto the realization that the man who raised him since his parents left, the man he looked up to as the pinnacle of greatness, is himself corrupt. Has himself committed the same crimes Taka killed to stop. That Taka was nothing but a tool for that corruption.

Literally everything that Taka is in this au would be a lie. He's not killing for justice, his mindset isn't the correct path, his grandfather isn't fighting for justice.

I honestly think Taka would have an extreme, violent response to that revelation. He'd see both himself and his grandfather as irreparably tainted, absolutely dripping in the blood of the innocent. And Taka has known no means of removing such blots on human society but to personally wipe them out. So that's exactly what he go out to do.

Now I'm thinking about Taka and Takaaki hunting down Torano for some vigilante justice. All while Takaaki subtly tries to convince his son not to kill both Torano AND himself. It would be very hard for Takaaki to convince Taka that he was a victim of his grandfather, and not equally as guilty.

(this is also making me think of an au where Taka's hired by the FBI for his skills in a Black Widow situation)

Speaking of that, let's get to the "Taka's first kill is his grandfather" au.

The first and biggest question is: who the heck puts Taka up to it? It would not be easy. I'm thinking that, in the normal Assassin!Taka au, Torano spends YEARS grooming Taka into accepting killing. Nobody else would have that kind of extended access to Taka except his parents.

...

Except his parents. I'm literally having ideas as I type this. New idea! I'm going to make Taka's mom relevant (and evil)! Also I'm calling her Nori because I just need a name.

Perhaps Takaaki's marriage was arranged for political reasons more than love. He had to marry wealthy, and ended up marrying the daughter of a wealthy businessman.

And that's a very useful position, isn't it? Nori is in a perfect place to learn the intimate details of the Ishimaru family. She can learn what little squabbles the family has amongst one another, what weaknesses there are, anything she could need.

Her parents are well acquainted with several politicians, all of whom are more than willing to act in favor of her family's company. All of whom are itching to become Prime Minister.

So a plan is made to leave the position of PM vacant. Assassinate Takaaki, frame Torano, get someone who'll act in favor of the company in control. Maybe throw in some Yakuza connections for flavor.

Nori is nothing if not a good actor. So when a bullet comes through a window during a banquet, going straight through Takaaki's skull and spraying the table with blood, she acts just like you'd expect a loving wife to. The event falls into chaos instantly, guards swarming the area. And little Taka, who'd been so excited to wear his new suit to the event, has to be dragged away from his father.

Nori's job at this point is to act the part of the mournful wife, suddenly finding herself a single mother. She also is tasked with beginning the rumor mill, whispering of the animosity her poor late husband and his father had for one another. How she's afraid that Toranosuke is somehow involved and, if she isn't careful, will act against her and Taka.

Somehow Taka ends up hearing about it. And well, Taka isn't the type to hide his feelings as a teenager, and he certainly doesn't do it as a child. It's an unexpected complication to the plan. Taka isn't going to just let the rumor float about. He's ready to go straight to his grandfather and demand answers, which would ruin everything.

They could kill the child, it wouldn't be terribly hard. But perhaps Nori has some attachment to him, even if she knows he was only born as a prop for her role. The only other option is to make him part of the plan.

Why frame Toranosuke for murder when you can convince his grandchild that he's a horrible man? A man so powerful that even the law can't touch him? A man so powerful that only someone truly dedicated to justice can bring him down?

It isn't hard to convince Taka to poison his grandfather. The hardest part is training him to hide his anger long enough to get the job done.

So now Nori has made way for a business partner to become Prime Minister, and she's created a hitman for the company. Taka would be a much more loyal assassin than simple money could buy. He's got a vendetta against corruption and a tarnished faith in the justice system. And Nori is in the perfect position to direct his righteous anger towards those that 'deserve it'. And if her definition of who deserves death is different than Taka's? Well, he doesn't need to know that.

#taka #takaaki ishimaru #kiyotaka ishimaru #danganrompa #talentswap #long post #tw: suicide mention #nothing happens but there's a plan #it's just mentioned in passing #an ask tag

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thecassadilla · 4 years

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Don’t Look Back

Pairing: Kristanna

Rated: M

Word Count: 2,945/AO3

Summary: After their separation is prophesied by a strange woman, Kristoff goes on a quest to the underworld to save Anna.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 5 - Blue! I wasn’t originally going to write a spin on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth for this day, but the idea came to me last night and I just had to write it out. I also apologize if I messed up any of the mythology, it’s been nearly 10 years since I last read this story and I kind of adapted it to suit the needs of the fic. I’m not really crazy about it because it’s a little different than all of the other stuff I’ve written but what am I gonna do? I hope you enjoy it despite it's weirdness!! (Sorry for all the asterisks, tumblr is finnicky with language and tags) *Please note that this fic is rated M for light s*xual content and temporary character d*ath*

There were few things rarer in the world than true love, and Anna and Kristoff had been lucky enough to find it with each other. In the beginning, they hid their feelings, and for far too long, they danced around the possibility of being together. When they finally came together, what grew between them was beautiful and rare.

In no time at all, they were blissfully married, and spending nearly every waking moment together. On this particular day, they’d gone for a stroll in the park, as the weather was getting colder by the day, and soon being outside would become unbearable. They walked hand in hand, bundled up in their winter attire, and walked along a wooded path. For such a brisk day, there were plenty of people out and about - children and families, joggers, dog walkers. They chatted about their upcoming plans and current events as they walked, damp leaves crunching beneath their shoes. Just as they were getting ready to leave, a wiry grey-haired woman approached them.

“There is very bad energy here,” the old woman warned, eyes widened with fear. “You will not last together.”

“Excuse me?” Kristoff asked, wrapping a protective arm around Anna’s shoulders.

“You’ll be torn apart,” she hissed and waved her hands around manically, before wandering up to another unsuspecting group of people.

“What does she know?” Anna scoffed, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t the superstitious type, but there was something about what the woman said that managed to rub him the wrong way. “That was...strange.”

She looked up at him, and frowned. “Are you actually worried?”

“No,” he lied, though it was useless - Anna was exceptional at reading his face.

“Nothing can tear us apart, my love,” she promised him, stroking his cheek with her soft, delicate fingers. “Nothing can come between us. Especially not a crazy old lady in a park.”

She’d said it with such confidence that he was able to temporarily brush off the overwhelming sense of doom that the old woman had managed to stir up in him. It wasn’t until they got home that evening that the anxiety returned. He normally kept a calm and level head, but losing Anna was his greatest fear and the sheer thought of it was enough to make his stomach turn. He was quiet throughout dinner as she blathered away and she didn’t bring up his unusual silence until they were lying on the couch.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he sighed.

“Something is bothering you.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured him. “But I’m all ears if you change your mind.”

“It’s not a big deal, I just need to relax.”

“How about a bath?” she suggested, squeezing his arm. “I can’t think of anything more relaxing than that.”

He smiled at the thought of it and just a little while later, they were submerged in a tub of warm water and bubbles, her bare back pressed up against his solid chest. He pressed kisses to her neck and her ear, caressing her breasts with one hand and slipping his other hand to tease the sensitive area between her legs all while she giggled and moaned from his touch. They moved from the tub to their bed after they pruned up, eager to please each other and put the stress of the day behind them. It was so easy for him to get lost in her bright blue eyes as she looked up at him with adoration, biting her lip and digging her nails into his back as he thrust into her.

Long after they were both satisfied, he cradled her in his arm and she rested her head on his shoulder, drawing lazy circles on his bare chest.

“I hope you feel better now,” she mumbled. “Because I know I do.”

“I do,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Taking a bath together was a great idea.”

“We should do it more often,” she smiled, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “You should get some sleep.”

He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and her body relaxed against his, and he sighed contently, closing his own eyes and drifting away.

He didn’t remember waking up the following morning, but the sunlight streaming in through their curtains had created a weird, hazy effect. Just as he had expected, she was still lying next to him, practically glowing in the morning light.

“I have to go,” she said suddenly.

“You should stay,” he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

She managed to free herself from his grasp and turned to face him, dragging her hand from his face to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know that I have to go, but I’ll be back soon and we can pick up from where we left off.”

After one last passionate kiss, she crawled out of bed and he propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she padded across the bedroom floor. She looked back to give him a flirtatious smile before closing the bathroom door. He didn’t even know where she had to go, but with a grin of his own, he flopped back onto the pillows and tossed his arm over his face, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.

Until she didn’t come home.

Though their separation had been prophesied by the lady in the park, his heart was shattered and he was overcome with grief - god, the grief was unbearable. He’d lost his beautiful wife, the most important person in his life, the person he truly loved and who loved him back, unconditionally. He cried over her pale body for days, wishing that his tears would bring her back but knowing deep down that his sadness had no power in determining her fate.

But, he’d heard of someone who did have that kind of power - the god of the underworld, Hades, who had a penchant for collecting souls. If the mythology was true, then there had to be a way to find the underworld and convince Hades that Anna needed to be earthside with him. They belonged together, and there was no one - human or god - who could tell him otherwise.

He did as much research as he could, scouring books and maps, trying to figure out a way to get to the underworld - to get Anna back. He didn’t care how far he had to travel, or whether it was by land or by sea, but he had to get to her.

So he did, setting off on a long journey across the world before finally coming across the dark cave that had been described in every piece of literature he’d gotten his hands on. A discarded boat on the banks of the river attracted his attention, and he climbed in, picking up the ore in his hands and rowing towards the cave. As he rowed, the water beneath the boat changed from translucent and blue to an oily, black sludge.

When he finally descended into the dark cavern, he found that he was no longer rowing the boat, but that control of the water had been taken over by a force behind him. He turned around and there was a tall, gangly man standing at the back of the boat, guiding them through the rough waters. He could tell from first glance that the man was not human, but that was to be expected - he was going to the underworld, after all. He’d read about this particular man; a ferryman who escorted the souls of the d*ceased to the underworld, though he certainly wasn’t escorting the d*ad in this case.

The journey to the underworld was a long and dangerous one, and he knew they had reached a crucial area when a fog began to form across the sides of the cavern - souls. Everything that surrounded them was d*ad; shriveled leaves and withered trees shrouded in darkness. Finally, the boat collided with a dock and Kristoff turned around to find that the ferryman was gone. He took a deep breath before climbing out of the boat, more determined than ever to find Hades and bring his wife home.

Being surrounded by death created an unsettling, eerie feeling. Kristoff could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he wandered aimlessly through the darkness, surrounded by the foggy mist. Despite the fact that he was most definitely alone, he didn’t feel alone. He felt as if he were walking along a busy sidewalk in a major city, dodging tourists and workers, rushing to their destination.

Finally, he came upon a looming, black castle and he knew that he had made it to his own destination. With all of the determination that he could muster up, he marched toward it; through the gates, down the cobblestone path, and into the palace that belonged to the god of the underworld. Hades had a bride of his own, and together they sat in matching thrones at the end of the long hallway.

“You’re not welcome in the underworld, mortal,” Hades’ threatening voice boomed.

Kristoff was not going to take no for an answer; he hadn’t made it this far to give up. “I’m here for my wife and I refuse to leave without her.”

“You don’t get to make demands.”

“I need my wife,” he pleaded. “I can’t live without her. I won’t leave without her.”

The threatening creature moved to stand from his throne, but his wife held out her arm, which caused him to pause. She leaned toward him, her long, dark tresses moving in a fluid motion with her body. Her hand flexed over the distance between her mouth and his ear as she whispered to him. Kristoff gulped, unsure of what her actions meant, though he hoped it was an act of mercy.

When she finally pulled away, Hades mischievously narrowed his eyes. “How about we make a deal?”

“Anything,” Kristoff blurted desperately.

“You may have your wife back,” Hades offered, “But, you may not see her until you return to your realm. You will be guided by the ferryman and she'll be in your boat, and once you’ve reached the earthside, she’s yours. If you look back at her before you’ve reached the earthside, then she stays in the underworld permanently.”

“Deal,” he answered without hesitation.

When he blinked, he was back in the boat. He didn’t remember leaving the castle or walking back through the depths of the underworld. He was petrified to look anywhere but straight ahead, and when the boat started moving, he called out to her. “Anna, are you here?”

Miraculously, she responded. “Yes, honey, I’m here.”

Hearing her voice nearly caused him to combust - god, how he missed the sound of her voice. It was almost enough for him to lose control and turn around. “I need to see you.”

“Don’t turn around,” Anna begged. “If you look back at me, then I can’t come home with you. Don’t look back.”

“How can I trust that this isn’t a trick?” he cried. “I need to know that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” she promised. “Keep your eyes closed until it’s safe.”

“How will I know when it’s safe?”

“I’ll tell you. Don’t open them until I say so, okay? Promise me that you won’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”

“I promise,” he agreed, trembling from the stress. He closed his eyes, unsure of what he would do if he lost her yet again. The one thing he was certain of was that he couldn’t live without her. If he had to take drastic measures to ensure they would be together, then he would do so.

For a long time, the boat ride was quiet. In the short span of time that he’d spent in the underworld, he managed to forget how long and treacherous the journey there was. It was difficult to resist the temptation of turning around and checking to make sure that the god of death had made good on his promise, that the woman he loved was actually in the boat with him.

After what felt like an eternity, she spoke again. “We’re almost there, but don’t look back yet.”

“Okay,” he said, hardly able to hear her over the sound of his pounding heart.

Suddenly, a pair of arms came down around his neck, and soft lips were pressing a kiss to his cheek. He didn’t dare to open his eyes - he couldn’t risk it. If this was some kind of test or trick from the god of the underworld and he opened his eyes, she’d be gone for good.

“You can open your eyes,” she said, pressing her cheek against his. “We’re safe.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’re back on earth,” she assured him. “We’re here, together. I’m alive.”

“Are you sure?” he repeated, his voice strained. “Because if you’re not sure, we’re both going to end up back in the underworld.”

“Touch me,” she begged, freeing her grasp from his neck and bringing his arm up to her face. “It’s me. I’m real.”

Through his touch, he recognized her features; her perfectly smooth skin, the slope of her petite nose, and her plump, kissable lips. “It’s really you?”

“It’s me,” she confirmed with a sniffle. “You can look.”

He slowly blinked his eyes open and the first thing that he noticed was that the water beneath the boat had transformed from black sludge to clear and blue. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see strands of her brilliant red hair, and he heaved a sigh of relief; she was here. He hadn’t been tricked by Hades.

She climbed onto his lap and cupped his jaw with her hands before leaning her forehead against his. “You saved me.”

His arms reflexively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe; she was alive, and he was touching her, and god, she was even more gorgeous than he remembered. “Oh, Anna, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she whimpered, tears cascading down her cheeks. “So much.”

He could feel a lump growing in his throat as he fought to hold back his own tears. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Good,” she sobbed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He placed a hand on the back of her head, and gently rubbed her back, the boat bobbing from side to side beneath them. When she finally looked up at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she asked, “Can we go home now?”

And then he awoke with a start - he was in their bedroom, unsure of if he had ever really left it. Was it really possible that he dreamt the entire thing? He wasn’t sure - it had felt so real.

Anna was leaning over him, brushing his hair out of his face. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” she laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He blinked rapidly as he looked around the room, and sure enough, they were still tangled up in their sheets like they had been when they fell asleep the night before. He could feel her body pushed up against him and he knew she was real, but he couldn’t shake the nightmare that had plagued him a few moments prior. “I don’t know...I think I had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“You d*ed,” he answered shakily. “And I went to the underworld to save you.”

“Oh,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows together. “Did you?”

“I did.”

“That’s good,” she smiled. “You’re a hero.”

“It felt so real, though. It was so vivid, and colorful, and...real. I don’t even know where the entire underworld thing came from - I haven’t read anything related to mythology since I was in, like, high school.”

“Our dreams don’t always make sense,” she assured him. “Last night I dreamt that I was late to take a test, which is funny because I haven’t taken a test since I was in college.”

“It’s just...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Anna, I really don’t.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that because I’m not going anywhere. And if I do die first, I’m going to come back and haunt you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he chuckled. “I think that lady in the park yesterday really freaked me out.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get a kick out of this; there was an article about her in the local paper this morning - she got arrested for harassing people in the park. It’s not the first time she’s been arrested for it, either.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah, I can even show you the article.” She moved to grab her phone, but he placed his hand over her arm, stopping her.

“It’s okay, I believe you,” he said in a low voice, diverting his eyes away from her.

“It’s really bothering you, huh?”

“A little,” he confessed with a sigh. “It’s such a scary thought.”

“I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled coyly before sliding her leg over his waist and pushing herself on top of him, so they were lying chest to chest. “Even if you change your mind and decide that you want to get rid of me.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I definitely don’t want to do that.”

Her lips ghosted against his as she whispered, “Then we have nothing to worry about.”

#kristannaweek2020 #kristanna week 2020 #kristanna #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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iamnotawomanimagod · 4 years

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Dare Me: Comparing the Book to the TV Show

Like many, I was super sad to hear that Dare Me, starring Herizen Guardiola and Willa Fitzgerald, was canceled before its’ second season. I loved it for its dark representation of female friendship and early sapphic attraction, so I was sad to lose that - but the show also ends on a cliffhanger!

I decided to read the book to find out what happens. Ultimately, I think the TV show is much better, and I don’t know if they would’ve chosen the same ending as the book.

The following breakdown contains spoilers Dare Me, both the book and the tv show. Proceed with caution!

Characters

In the show, Beth and Coach French look nothing alike. Beth has long, dark, curly hair, and Coach has short, blonde hair.

In the book, they share similar features. Both of them have the same hair - I think it’s long and dark, but I can’t remember off the top of my head. It might be long and blonde, instead. Point being, in a grainy camera phone picture (the book is set in like, 2009, when camera phones still sucked) they might be mistaken for one another.

In the show, one of the biggest sources of drama comes from the relationship between Beth and her estranged father. This is due in large part to the fact that her father had an affair and another child, Tacy, and chose the live across the street from his ex-wife and other daughter.

In the book, Tacy is just another girl on the squad. She is a flier, and does compete with Beth for the Top Girl spot, but she’s otherwise not really part of the story.

In the show, Coach’s daughter, Caitlin, is a baby, still. Probably no more than two years old.

In the book, Caitlin is four years old.

In the show, Addy’s mom is a police officer, and is greatly involved in both Addy’s life and in the eventual investigation of Will’s death.

In the book, Addy’s parents are barely mentioned.

In the show, Beth’s mom is an addict, who continues her affair with Beth’s dad. Beth’s dad makes a marked (albeit flawed) effort to be in her life.

In the book, Beth’s parents are basically non-existent. As a result, the necklace Beth’s dad gave her, which is a big part of her characterization in the show, is also non-existent.

In the book, Addy is the one who kicks the girl in the stomach, to help her throw up, not Beth.

In the show, the signs of eating disorders are there, but they’re less obvious. There is a scene where Beth and Addy are eating cookies, and it shows them spitting them out after they chew, but they don’t mention it or talk about it. Beth talks about being hungry in the books a lot, about living off lollipops and detox green tea, about how common it is for all of them to have eating disorders.

In the book, there are more characters. In the show, it appears that many of the characters were streamlined into one - RiRi. The girl who gets injured in the books never returns to the squad. She’s instead an example of the “in-group” of the squad and how easy it is for them to ostracize people.

The biggest change, however, is in the characterization of Beth.

In the show, Beth is much more sympathetic.

In the show, it’s made abundantly clear that Beth was raped by Kurtz. (I think he has a different name in the books.) We see her injuries, her trauma, and her own confrontation with Kurtz. She trades his freedom for information, citing the selfie she took of her torn tongue and the fact that she has other proof. She decides not to press charges if Kurtz will tell her what he heard on the night that Will dies. (This does not happen in the books. The random kid Addy makes out with in the first episode is the one who places Coach and Matt at the scene of the crime.)

In the book, it’s implied that Beth pushed Kurtz to be rougher with her, so that she could gain sympathy from Addy. She hides her underwear in her purse, never confronts Kurtz, and doesn’t have the same level of injury.

In the show, we spend time with Beth in her house, see her when she’s alone, and come to recognize that, whether intentionally or not, Addy is playing with Beth’s feelings for her. Addy comes across as the manipulative Mean Girl, shifting the audience’s perspective on them as the show goes on.

In the book, the reveal of Addy and Beth’s romantic attraction comes much later, towards the very end. It’s revealed that they did more than kiss, probably fooled around a bit. Beth’s jealousy of Addy’s growing attraction to Coach is what makes Beth...well, do what she does.

In the book, there is no storyline around Coach being the new hero of the town, the one who’s going to revive the economy with her excellent cheer squad. The book follows only Addy’s perspective, so a lot of the explanatory scenes we get in the show, that don’t have her in them, aren’t in the book.

FINAL SPOILER WARNING. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Here’s how the story ends. I do not know if this is what they were planning for the show, since Beth was a much more sympathetic character.

Literally everything comes down to Beth. Everything is her fault.

Beth seduces Will. She takes a picture of their encounter on her grainy 2000s camera phone. She gets Tacy to send this picture to Matt. Because the picture is grainy, and because Coach and Beth look so much alike, Matt assume it’s a picture of Coach fucking Will.

Matt then goes and confronts Will, while Coach is at Will’s apartment, and Matt shoots him with Will’s own gun.

Beth further fucks the situation up by lying to Addy about the hamsa bracelet. She convinces Addy (in the show and in the books) that the cops found the hamsa bracelet at the scene of the crime.

The last we see in the show, Addy is outside of Coach’s house, angry and in tears, asking about the bracelet, and getting no response. We then see Coach confronting Matt about it, and “the night we were there.”

It turns out, however, that the bracelet wasn’t at the crime scene at all - it was in Beth’s locker. She finds the bracelet at Coach’s house, the night after the hotel party, and she steals it back. As in the show, the bracelet was something Beth gave to Addy.

When Addy finds the bracelet in Beth’s locker, she is understandably pissed. She confronts Beth in the locker room, and Beth is her usual sassy, obfuscating self. They go to do the competition. This is probably what the “she’s not you” scene was based on, although it happens much earlier in the show.

At this point, Beth is Top Girl again, through a series of accidents on the mat. There’s a very difficult flyer move that they’ve been working on, throughout the book. It involves the Top Girl being lifted 16 feet into the air by her squad, held up a bit like a Jesus figure.

During a huge competition, the one with the scout, in the book, they do this stunt. Addy is one of Beth’s spotters. Beth intentionally twists and falls, so that she lands on her head on the mat. She ends up in the hospital.

The book ends with August tryouts, for the next year. Coach is gone, having been accused of taking part in Will’s murder. Addy is more of a top dog than she’s ever been, because Beth does not return. The book ends with the concept that this toxic, manipulative, abusive cycle, which is all laid on Beth instead of Coach, will continue to spiral on, no matter who is on the squad.

My Take

Tbh, I enjoyed the show a lot more. While I appreciate being able to find out what happened next, I really don’t know if the show would’ve taken the same route. There were a lot of plotlines that were brought in specifically for the show - Tacy and Beth being half-sisters, Addy’s mom being a cop, Beth’s dad living across the street with Tacy, etc. And because of the way Beth was made more sympathetic in the show, I wonder if they would’ve chosen the same ending.

I think that, rather than putting it all on Beth, the show was angling to place the blame on Coach. She was much less sympathetic on the show. In the book, she doesn’t use Addy as a babysitter to see Will. Addy is much less involved in their affair in general, although she is aware of it - that day by the river in the woods does still happen. She’s depicted much more as a Cool Adult who is Far Above all the shit going on in the squad, and that her reliance on Addy only comes out when she’s her most scared, vulnerable, and manic. It makes the line where she tells Addy that Addy is her best friend much more jarring and strange. You realize how lonely Coach is.

Coach also most obviously stands as an example of where characters like Beth and Addy might end up, in ten or so years. Her “perfect life” is under a lot of scrutiny, in both the book and the show, to underline how these cheer girls have big dreams, but will probably end up married, with a kid, living in a house they hate with a partner they don’t care for. It’s to contrast the bombastic, glittery, haughty writing style of the book, of Addy’s narration of it, to show that these are mostly just teenage girls with a whole lot of issues. As beautiful and bright and bold and invincible as they feel, the only thing really waiting for them on the other side is an adulthood with a lot less glory.

I liked the show a lot more. I think it did a better job of showing all of the different characters as well-rounded people, not just stereotypes. Fleshing out Beth’s backstory makes her a lot more sympathetic, and I hate that the book uses a false rape allegation to make Beth a bad person. Coach is the adult in all of this, which I think the show recognized, and sought to correct.

TL;DR - Dare Me made a better show than a book, and it’s a damn shame it got cancelled so soon, because it was better wlw representation, more fleshed out as a story, and less problematic in its stances about the issues teenage girls face.

#rape tw #eating disorders tw #eating disorder tw #stephspeaks #dare me #ok to reblog

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wordstrings · 4 years

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Inbox dump

(brace yourselves, I’m including the timestamps because these have been sitting forever and you may literally forget ever having sent one of these because they’re from so long ago 😬)

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Anonymous said: March 11th 2014 *Clears throat* Non-canon verse, uni AU probably *strums guitar and takes a deep breath* DUEEEEE TO A COMPUTING errORRR, dean and gabe are stuck as roomatesssssssss, whilesamandcascanbestucktogethertoo that'snotaneccesitybutitwouldbegreaaaaaaaaattttttttt, and veeery soon it turns into something of a friendship BUT THEEEENNNN dean fights with saaAAAM and gabe is like "dude stop being so upset" aND FLUFF HAPPEeeeeeEEEEEEeens! *stands up and bows* tyvm for accepting debriel though like omg <3

I’ve been rewatching some of Supernatural seasons 5 and 6 this past weekend, and it reminded me how much I love and miss Gabriel. I still maintain that Debriel is a super-underrated ship. The manic-chaos potential is *muah*. (see: #Debriel)

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Anonymous said: August 7th 2018 psst... light back tickles while cuddling in bed are pure™ and wholesome™

Good shit good shit good shit

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Anonymous said: September 19th 2018 I love science and go to public seminars as often as I can. I walked in to the most recent one (which I had picked at random), and it was on the science of tickling. There were demonstrations. There were hand gestures and finger wiggling. There were in depth descriptions of the anatomy and physiology behind ticklish spots. It was legitimately your Amateur Production’s fic, and I was Kevin. Worst of all it was 2 hours long. I think I died during it and my soul was sucked into hell.

Uhhhhhh where can I get a copy of the slide deck?? Asking for a friend. (see: #series: Amateur Production)

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Anonymous said: September 23rd 2018 your art skills have me shook in the best possible way

aaaahh thank you! Fun fact: I went to art school and even took illustration as a concentration area but I’ve hardly drawn anything for like ten years. When I do draw, it’s usually because there are feelings that I don’t wanna do words about. (see: #strings does art)

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Halo!anon said: September 27th 2018 A small, sinful part of Castiel had the urge to gloat. It was somewhat dampened by the fact that Dean was still under the impression that being abducted is peak romance."I can't believe you went out of your way to set up our second date!" He'd squealed, as Castiel tightened his restraints. - little excerpt of a sequel to Date Nights with Demons i had planned for months but abandoned. halo!anon

Your demented version of Demon!Dean is so entertaining 😄 (see: Date Nights with Demons)

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Anonymous said: November 6th 2018 Aaaaah your Gabriel / Kali drabble was adorable, I can't help but love seeing our mighty archangel reduced to a mass of giggles, and you write Gabriel so so well <3. I love your writing your stories always brighten my day ^^

It’s so rare for him to let his guard down, isn’t it? But when he does, he has a grand old time of it. :) (see: this drabble)

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sarah-lou-who said: November 8th 2018 1/4 Boo! The ghost of my online presence in the community is peeking its head in because I need help. I don’t have a platform or following to sound an alarm, so I’m using my platonic tumblr wife’s platform and following for me, because that’s what platonic tumblr wives do. Right? Anyway, I’m very actively fixated on Attack on Titan atm. You know this very well. You also know my predicament. I seem to have exhausted the entire supply of tickly AoT content I’m interested in that exists currently. 2/4 So, if you’re willing to publish these for me, I’m crying out into the vast TFB lands hoping that there’s someone out there to answer the call. I am in desperate need of tickly AoT content. I don’t know if anyone around here writes for it much these days. I haven’t found anyone. And I know beggars can’t be choosers, but it can’t be helped; I really only care if Eren is involved. Even better would be Levi, but I haven’t found ANYTHING involving him, so I feel like asking for that is futile. 3/4 I digress. Even after all this time I can’t keep my asks less than 50 parts long. So my goal here is that someone, somewhere, will by chance come across these, and be able and willing to either write fic of the tickly variety for Eren and/or Levi from Attack on Titan, or direct me to someone who can, if they know a person who knows a person who knows a person. (Sidenote, hi anyone who still remembers me! It’s Sarah, the more ticklish half of Leerah. I’m doing good and I miss you!) 4/4 (I hope you’re all doing well!) Thank you for letting me take advantage of your devoted followers, Strings! Love yaaa!!!

Ah, my platonic tumblr wife Sarah returns! (Digitally, anyway. Reality-wise, we hang out all the time and it’s probably very rude of me to have not published this ask for so long!) I keep teasing her that she has a Type, and that is dark-haired sulky badass who’d probably make a wicked ‘ler – AoT Levi, SPN Cas, FMA Roy, etc. So anyway, if anyone knows of somewhere I can point her to find the content she’s (still) craving, lmk!

Anonymous said: October 23rd 2019 I’m sorry if this is invasive in any way, but how is Sarah doing? I’ve been absent from Tumblr for a couple years and I see that her blog is now deactivated. I was just wondering if she’s doing alright and if she’s still around here on a different blog maybe?

See above! She doesn’t have a TFB community blog anymore, but she’s doing well. We’re quarantine buddies and helping each other out a lot. Very kind of you to ask! <3

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Anonymous said: December 2nd 2018 Hi, sorry to bother you but do you know what happened to prodigal-anon’s blog? It seems to have been deleted. Sorry again if you’ve been asked this before

No worries, friend! Here’s an answer for you!

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Anonymous said: December 13th 2018 I LOVE THE LOOPY SERIES! I love it so much, is there any chance you’ll be doing a part four? I’d give anything to see Cas and Dean tickle each other, it would be so cute 😍

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I haven’t entirely stopped writing... and Loopy 4 is one of those unfinished pieces that has seen a few additions lately. :) I’ve learned not to make promises about when something might get finished and posted, but I genuinely do believe this may be one of the first things that shows up once I’m ‘back in the game.’ Stay tuned... (see: #series: Loopy)

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Anonymous said: January 1st 2019 No no no you can't just stop there! I need more fluffy destiel with tickles and kissing! Pretty please?

I believe this is in response to Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight. Don’t you worry, anon – Dean and Cas are not done being fluffy on this blog!

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1832wasalongtimeago said: January 25th 2019 Hi I just wanted to pop in and say the Maintenance series is amazing!! The second part was doing things to my poor heart I’ve read it like 5 times already. You’re such an amazing writer and thank you fo writing for us!

I’m very flattered, but I can’t take credit for the Of Maintenance series – that’s the lovely work of ask-flip-frost! It does things to my poor heart, too, so you’re in good company. :)

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Anonymous said: January 26th 2019 Sam Winchester can take a lot of things. The one thing he CAN'T take? Someone using baby talk on him when he's being tickled. He collapses into a puddle of helpless giggles faster than a house of cards in a stiff wind.

Precious Sammy just needs to laugh and be held, doesn’t he? <3

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Anonymous said: May 17th 2019 Thor needs tickles. So. Damn. Much.

Oh this was from right after Endgame came out. Thor did make me feel some sads there. :( Poor bab.

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Anonymous said: July 25th 2019 hi! i’ve read your wonderful fics forever but i’ve never really sent anything like this before so i don’t really know what to say.. but i had a destiel tickly thought and really wanted to share it with somebody, so here goes i guess- dean is taking too long in the shower so cas decides to use his mojo from the other room to speed things along. and listens to dean’s echoey laughs through the door. that’s all. sorry if this is weird! okay bye have a good one

This is not weird and I may have delayed in telling you any of my feelings about it but I definitely have a doc somewhere that has some vague notes about how I’d like to write this because I like it!

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Anonymous said: August 6th 2019 Anhhgff your Good Omens tword fics are so cute snvfddf i never knew I needed that of my favorite husbands till now😳😍

I know, right?! They’re just dying to be dropped into every fluffy situation. (see: #Good Omens)

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Anonymous said: July 25th 2019 Poking my head in to say hello, hope you’re doing well still! I just got into Good Omens and I absolutely loved your fic! (I watched the show first because my book was taking too long in the mail lol) Also, the other week I somehow talked myself into making a tfb blog, after all these years of almost doing so before chickening out (this ask isn’t from it because I just hopped in here briefly in a private phone browser to say hi, it’s literally just august-anon though) ~August!Anon

August!anon, I’m always so happy to see you stop by! Tagging your (not-so-new anymore) blog so everyone can check you out: @august-anon

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hey-teenblog said: August 4th 2019 I love your fanfiction very much! They give me a lot of pleasant emotions. And most importantly, they, saturated with tenderness and love, gave me to accept myself as lee!! sorry for my english, i'm russian Love you 😘❤️

I will never tire of hearing things like this! Thank you for telling me. “Saturated with tenderness and love” is a such wonderful compliment about my writing – thank you very much! No need to apologize for language differences; I’m always impressed with anyone who manages to pick up English because it’s bonkers.

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Anonymous said: August 23rd 2019 Hi! Just found this blog and wondering some basic info. ** What fandoms do toy write for? ** Do you accept prompts? ** Do you write reader insert fics? Thank you lovley ❤️

Anonymous said: August 29th 2019 Do you write tickle fics for bnha?? Asking for a friend 👀👀

The only fandoms I have reliably been able to write for are Supernatural and Good Omens – but even Good Omens is a rookie player here. Supernatural is my main jam, and Destiel is my favorite flavor. I don’t do reader inserts, but I’m always “accepting” prompts. I just haven’t written many of them for quite a long time now, so you’re welcome to drop them as long as you’re okay with them collecting dust. (see: this selfsame post)

My About/FAQ page is very dusty right now, too, but there might be some useful tidbits in there for you.

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Anonymous said: November 12th 2019 okayokayokay. Have you watched Lucifer? It's on netflix, it's great, so much emotions and pining. (Also, y'know, reg. Luci stuff. He runs a club. Bad jokes. It's great.)

I haven’t, but it’s on my Netflix watchlist, so I’ll get there eventually! I saw a gifset once where he actually did the thing I see in winged fanfic all the time, where there was gunfire and he sheltered someone he cared about with his manifested wings. And honestly, that was the deciding factor for me.

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Anonymous said: November 16th 2019 Oh Man U listen to Critrole as well! Nice! Campaign 1 was awesome but also heartfelt and really gut-punching at points. Who is your fav so far, anyone you aren’t fond of? (& Out of interest do you have any tickle related thoughts on the main crew or upcoming Fics we can look out for? As you said it’s tumbleweeds out here for this fandom’s tickles and I’ll take anything really 😂!) Hope u enjoy!!!!!

It’s STILL tumbleweeds out here and it’s making me crazy! My heart belongs to Vax primarily, Percy secondarily. I don’t really have cohesive thoughts or headcanons about anything, unfortunately. I do have this one mental picture that keeps coming up that I keep wanting to see art of (who knows, maybe I’ll commission somebody someday?) – of ridiculous brute Grog just lifting Vax straight up in his arms and gettin’ wiggly with his fingers while all Vax can do is laugh and pry and kick while absolutely nobody helps him.

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Regarding #series: Accessor:

Anonymous said: August 31st 2015 I would like to see accessor!verse cas using feathers on Dean!!! and NIBBLES and RASPBERRIES and TEETH and TONGUE and WOWWWWWW

ME TOO, FRIEND. It’s been aaaaages since I published anything new for the Accessor AU, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been going back to my unfinished docs every once in a while to add a few lines here and there. ;)

Anonymous said: October 29th 2016 Prompt: Cas is put in charge of getting a treaty with a neighboring country that shares a lot of the same customs, including Accessories, with certain... twists (think Bracelets AU) and treats their personal slaves (like Accessories) like people (listening to opinions, giving proper care, etc.). The foreign diplomats keep bringing that up and talking to Dean. Cas isn't sure he can make it though the diplomatic proceedings. Also, he might be having improper thoughts about that custom and Dean...

I’m posting this here, but I’m definitely keeping this filed elsewhere because it’s FANTASTIC.

Halo!anon submitted: June 4th 2018 I can’t help but imagine how tickling must play a part in other aspects of society in the accessor ‘verse, besides the sessions between master and accessory. So here’s some imagines and headcanons, with a touch of worldbuilding. (Warnings, besides the usual for this AU: death mention, reference to past trauma.)

- Among the high class, during parties and other celebrations, it’s seen as a common courtesy to string up one’s personal accessory in the center of the room and let the guests entertain themselves with them. Lord Castiel never does this with Dean, much to his fellow nobles’ disappointment; the mere suggestion had Dean quaking as things he’d rather forget came back to bite him.

- Every so often, a petty criminal(the poor man’s accessory, if you will) is placed in stocks in a small town’s square and left at the mercy of the very people they used to menace. What happens next usually involves honey, some sheep, and plenty of begging. A guard stands by to warn people, “No hurting, only tickling. Everyone please wait your turn, they’re not going anywhere any time soon.”

- Certain monastic healers perform tickle therapy as a treatment for anxiety, stress, and other “diseases of the soul”, as they call them. Balthazar himself proposed the idea, because of course he did. The rich usually indulge in this kind of therapy secretly, due to its undignified nature. Some contemplate the possibility of training accessories to tickle in the future, but it’s still a big taboo.

- Every town has a folktale about a tickle monster. Curiously, many of them involve controlling plants and attacking through dreams. The southern communities still have a giggle remembering that one time six years ago when Michael offered to hunt down one such monster and came back with Crowley, a sleazy drunkard with a fetish and a dream, sitting in a cage and wearing a mask.

- The Masters sisters, Lillith, Meg and Ruby, have a long history with law enforcement. Their favorite pastime is snatching unlucky merchants off the roads and tickling them into coughing up everything they have. Everyone is sure they had a hand in Fergus"Crowley" Macleod’s untimely demise by ferocious attack hounds, but they’re very good at covering their tracks. They’ll help you cover up your tracks too, if you’re a friend- ask Bela Talbot.

I might make a second part if I get any more ideas. I hope you enjoyed this! -Halo!anon.

I am very fond of you indeed, Halo!anon. These are so creative!

hypahticklish submitted: July 24th 2018 Accessor!Ideas:

~ Gabriel leads a furious rant regarding Prince Lucifer/Sam to Castiel, relating back to perhaps dealings he has directly had with the Prince between their two unstable-yet-truced Kingdoms. Castiel relates with similar views shared by Gehenna’s councilor(s).

~ Dean and Sam BM where the audience learns more about their homevillage. Dean starts it after a rather morose remark from Sam and ends with Sammy smiling and stealing my heart.

~ Balthazar helps Sam in several ways: 1) Learns the Sam was originally a psuedo-Advocates apprentice, as well as herbalist nephew when Sam identifies the components to some salves/medicines he’s making (he had been explaining what he was doing in an attempt to spare himself being attacked like the first couple times) 2) Calls Sam out on being intelligent and making a recklessly stupid choice by selling himself to find Dean. 3) Removes Lucifers mark. And maybe perhaps: 4) Allows Sam to assist in his own healing/medicine making under his careful observation, feigned as needing two sets of hands to do correctly and his assistant was running an errand, to assess his skills. 5) Offer he work in the hospice under him, apprenticing, should Gabriel allow his intelligence not go to waste. It’s not what Sam really wants to do/learn, but it’s better than doing nothing.

~Dean officially thanks Castiel for saving Sam. I’m talking full feels, single man tear sorta thing. And Castiel says “there was never another option” and then its schmoopy sweet with the kisses and the tickles and the Cas saying he loves Dean back!!!!!!!! swoon.

~ Kali!Likes!Sam’s!Spirit! Give me a dinner scene with Gabriel, Kali and Sam where hes holding his own in a diplomatic conversation with them when he nearly crosses a line (maybe something classist? Making it clear that Cas and Gabe are the exception to his experiences) and she says “I like this ones fire. He reminds me of you, my love.” *grabby hands*

~ Prince Lucifer sends a message to Gabriel requesting (threatening) his Helpmate be returned to him for a handsome reward. Sam somehow sees letter and gets spooked because DRAMA. Gabriel responds to Lucifer with the Chief Advocate equivalent of “Fuck Off”

You, my friend. YOU. All these feelings about Sam? Top-notch, and I shall be borrowing them, yes I shall.

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Regarding #android!Cas:

hypahticklish said: January 23rd 2016 Android!Cas deciding today is the DAY. Dean has been teasing him lately that he likes these strange sensations that have him using all his back-up generated power to not accidentally break Dean's bones and challenging him with that cocky smirk and relaxed confidence. Android!Cas practicing during time while Dean rests with holding objects with similar density to the human wrists with enough gentle force that they neither fracture or slip from his grasp. Android!Cas surprising Dean by turning the tables and pinning his wrists over his head while settling himself on Dean's thighs. Android!Cas not necessarily tickling at first so much as just touching like he had been wanting to so as to catalog how his best friend feels with his new technology. Android!Cas feeling that bubble of FEELS in his chest as he listens to Dean swear at him with positive physical actions negating his harsh words, growing more amused as the bubbling giggles begin. I love Android!Cas

Anonymous said: January 23rd 2016 Android!Cas figures out his own strength comes in handy for more than just retaining himself during tickle fights. When he surprises Dean, Dean tends to squirm and fight back a little (even though he told Cas to get him back as part of the experience), so Cas uses his strength to gently hold Dean down while ticking him. Dean's never been held immobile before so it's a new experience for him, but he ends up liking it. Cas notices how Dean relaxes into his hold after a minute or so. Cas doesn't fail to use this knowledge about Dean, coming up with teasing words and methods of ticking to make Dean all squirmy and giggly, taking special notice of how light tickles effect Dean even more than most other touches, using that specially designed soft brush meant to gently clean Cas' delicate computer chips.

Anonymous said: February 17th 2016 I'm joining in on the Android!Cas thing, if not too late. Perhaps Android!Cas has detachable parts, like a foot, and Dean is a jerk and runs off and hides with it all the while tickling it and making fun of Android!Cas's increasingly desperate attempts to get it back.

Y’all, careful deliberate curious determined ‘ler Cas is LIFE. And, reserved confused helpless adorable ‘lee Cas is also life. Detachable and extensible parts are probably key to both of these things.

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Regarding current personal circumstances:

Anonymous said: January 14th 2020 I pray that you’re able to find peace during this difficult time. You are loved more than you will ever know. I know it’s hard to believe, but there will come a time that you are thankful for this experience, because it will have turned you into the person you are truly meant to be. Be strong and be hopeful. Keep your faith and keep knowing that you are going to be okay. Don’t let this dark time destroy the magnificent light inside of you. Sending you so much love

Anonymous said: January 17th 2020 I’m so sorry you’re struggling. Hang in there! We’re all here for you!

Anonymous said: February 11th 2020 all my love, thoughts and prayers are going towards you right now. also wanted to just drop a little thank you note in your inbox for all the light and joy i've found in your fics over the years. im sitting half way through my first year at uni currently but ive been a fan of yours since early highschool and i feel like ive almost grown up with your writing and fanfics in a strange way, so thank you so much for that. sending all my love to you once again- you are so strong x

I love you all so much.

#blog maintenance #ask #you people are too kind #prompt #Accessor 'verse #android!Cas

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floralreddie · 5 years

Text

Love It If We Made It: Part 3

A/N: People are asking if i’m carrying on with this, and the premise is basically what happens if Eddie survives. The answer? Fluff. Maybe some smut. Gays bein gays.

Summary: Eddie lives. Richie stumbles through being in love with the man who used to be, and could still be, his best friend, and maybe something more. This is how they find each other again as adults, in the aftermath of finally killing It.

Warnings: swearing, description of gore, internalised homophobia. smut to come.

Part 1, Part 2

Richie cancels his dates in Reno.

He cancels a lot of the dates, actually. He couldn’t give less of a shit about his Trashmouth Tour, because Eddie needed and him and Eddie had asked him not to leave.

Jesus. When did he turn into such a little bitch.

Bill leaves first, to be with his wife. He holds Eddie’s hand, Eddie who is stronger everyday, and tells him that he’ll see him soon. Maybe they can all feel something different this time around; a hint that they won’t be forgetting each other again.

Bev is the one who answers the the frantic ringing of Eddie’s phone, which was telling them that Myra Kaspbrak was on the line again. Richie doesn’t follow her to the waiting room as she ducks away. He stays with Eddie, who crinkles his brow and stares at the closed door with a look that reminds Richie of how he’d look at Mrs Kaspbrak. Scared. Worried. Reprimanded.

Eddie shuffles into his bed when Bev leaves on that fourth day, his eyes shiny and his mouth down-turned. ‘I should answer her,’ Eddie says. He’s more awake lately. The drugs are less strong, and the risk of infection had past. Richie had even left the day before to shower and change at the Inn. The others had stayed there for the past few nights, but Richie wouldn’t.

Richie sits in the chair beside Eddie, as usual, and replies, ‘She sounds a fucking nightmare, Eddie. How’d you manage to find an exact replica of your mom, huh?’

‘Fuck off, Richie’.

He said he wouldn’t leave Eddie, so he wouldn’t.

It is the same day that Bev and Ben leave. Together. Bev tells Eddie that Myra knows he is hurt, but not what happened. She has a pinched look on her face, one that reminds Richie of when Mrs Kaspbrak had called Bev a dirty girl. Eddie stares, jaw working, and it goes unsaid between all of them that it could not be more obvious that Eddie does not want his wife here.

‘Does she, uh, does she know where I am?’

Ben stands behind Bev, a watchful angel over her shoulder. Bev shakes her head, her smile a little sad. ‘I didn’t think you wanted her to know’.

Perhaps Bev can sense these things, Richie thinks. Perhaps the pale ring of skin on her ring finger says more than Richie will ever know.

They bid Richie and Eddie goodbye soon after that, promising to call when they reached their homes. They would see each other soon, they promise, and Richie believes them. Richie nods, smile tight, and hugs them both. He’s happy for them. He is. It’s just...Myra Kaspbrak’s constant calls are a harsh reminder that Eddie was someone else’s. He had no right to be the one lingering at Eddie’s side.

Bev is small when he hugs her, and she reaches up to murmur in his ear, ‘Be patient, Rich’.

He pulls away, looks down at her, and yeah, of course Bev knows.

Mike comes and goes. By the sixth day, Richie can see his elation when he brings the both of them food from the outside. Richie can see the itching in Mike’s muscles to get away from Derry. He felt the same itching. He was happy for Mike, really. The man had stayed in this shit heap longer than Richie had ever thought anyone could. Now, with It gone, Mikey was free.

Richie’s back hurts from sleeping in only the hospital chair, and he feels pretty creepy for watching Eddie fall in and out of sleep like he does. But they talk, and that’s the best bit. Richie finds out that Eddie’s business is actually well and truly fucking dull. Eddie insults him for not writing his own jokes. They steer clear of the topic of Myra. When Bev had handed Eddie his phone back, he had flicked it off with a blank expression.

Richie had pretended to not notice.

It’s the seventh day, a week after the fight and the tears and the near death of Eddie, that Eddie starts Richie out of his warped thoughts about random shit. ‘Why are you still here, Richie?’

Richie blinks, pushes his glasses up his nose, and tries very hard to keep his pale ass skin from turning fucking pink. Eddie is looking up at him, eyebrows draw together and mouth down-turned, and Richie doesn’t know what to the fuck to say. In the end, he settles with, ‘What - you want me to go, Spaghetti? Go on, I can take it’.

He can’t. He really fucking can’t.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes widening, and Richie is reminded that Eddie is just so fucking cute. Cute, cute, cute. ‘No!’ Eddie says, wincing as he tugs at his wound. Richie still hasn’t seen it. He leaves whenever the Doctors and Nurses come in and begin tugging the hospital gown over Eddie’s pale shoulders. ‘I’m just asking...you don’t have to be here, you know’.

‘Yeah, well,’ Richie says. ‘I want to be, okay?’

Eddie stares. ‘Okay’.

‘Okay’.

After that, they both stare at the rerun of E.R on the TV hovering above the bed. Richie glances at Eddie, and he swears he sees a smug smile.

Cute, cute, cute.

On the eighth day, Eddie is discharged. He leaves with hoodie and bottoms the hospital had given him, and smacks Richie’s side when the other splutters on how oversized the garments are on the smaller man.

‘You’re fucking drowning in that shit, Ed’s’.

‘I’m five fucking nine, douchebag. And don’t call me Ed’s’.

He leans against Richie, his form hunched a face still just a little too pale, and Mike picks them up from the car park in his beat up car. It smells of old cigarettes and air fresher, and Richie is so fucking careful when he helps Eddie into the front seat. He can feel the muscles twitch underneath his fingers as he moves Eddie, and he wants to smile.

See, he wants to say. You are strong, Ed’s.

Mike is kind and open, as always. He asks what meds Eddie had been given. He asks if he’s in pain. He asks if the Doctors had stopped inquiring too deep into how all of them had ended up in such a state.

Finally, he asks, ‘You two heading home today?’

Richie, who is rubbing his forehead and thinking that he’s too fucking old to have been sleeping in a chair for the past week, looks sharply at Mike at the question. Home. Home for him was Malibu. Home for Eddie was New York. With his wife. So fucking far away.

‘I mean,’ Richie says. ‘Probably. Or tomorrow’.

There is a pause. Mike breathes deeply, as if knowing his question has settled a darkness onto the car that he had not intended it to. ‘Eddie?’

Eddie shifts. Richie stares dead ahead. The silence goes on a bit too long, so he shares a look with Mike, before turning to look over his shoulder and peering at Eddie, who is holding something in his hand.

It takes Richie a moment to understand that it’s his wedding ring.

Eddie stares and stares at it, before shrugging, reaching to put down the window, and throwing the thing out into the air without a seconds thought. Richie barks out a surprised laugh, whilst Mike nearly swerves into a fucking bush. ‘Shit, Ed’s!’ Richie whoops.

‘You, er, sure about that, Eddie?’ Mike says, though Richie can hear the smile in his voice.

Eddie leans back, brow raised and smile smug, and replies, ‘Pretty fuckin’ sure, Mikey’.

He looks at Richie, smile and all, and Richie laughs again. His chest feels tight and he forgot what a fucking drama queen Eddie was, and he wants to reach over to him, to touch him and to hold him and to kiss that fucking smile off his face-

Yeah. Eddie Kaspbrak was fucking brave.

There’s a knock at his door.

It’s not Mike, he knows that much. Mike had bid them farewell, making them promise to call him once they were both at their respective homes. He was heading to Florida, he said. Soon. Away from this fucking town.

Richie had slapped him on the back and grinned.

When he opens it, he sees Eddie there with a billion fucking suitcases and his body hunched to not pull at his bandages. He stares at Richie, mouth half open and eyes wide, and Richie stares right back. He knows he probably looks manic. He always does when he’s nervous. It’s those fucking eyebrows.

His glasses slide down his nose.

‘You, er-’ Eddie coughs, darts his gaze to the right, and then looks back up at Richie. ‘You wanna come to...to New York and help me leave my wife, Rich?’

Richie stares.

Richie laughs.

Richie buries his face in his hands, shoulder shaking.

Richie says yes.

#Richie x Eddie #eddie x richie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 spoilers #it 2019 #it #floralreddie

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umccall71 · 6 years

Text

The Arrangement:Til you come back to me

Book: The Royal Romance

Characters:King Liam x (mc) Queen Sexy

Rating:mature

Disclaimer: All characters used are sole property of Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them for entertainment purposes.

Warning:The contents of this series includes nsfw, profanity, adult content, talk of sexual harassment and loss of a child. By reading this post, you acknowledged you are 18 +.

Requested Tags

@ownworldresident

@hopefulmoonobject

@3pawandme

@blackcoffee85

@carabeth

@lauradowning29

@gibbles82

@romanticatheart-posts

@smalltalk88

@indiacater

@silviasutton1989

~~~~~

The minutes seemed like hours trapped in the study with the two people that hated her most.Hana… “how the hell did Hana make it here, undetected?”,she internally thought to herself.Sexy felt lightheaded, but fought through it… she had to keep her wits about herself.

“Madeleine… I am really confused as to why you're here… with Hana of all people.”

The blonde bitch looked at her… or through her depending on the moment. Sexy could see a profound hatred when she skimmed Madeleine’s eyes. Maddie tried to mask her disdain for the former commoner turned Queen.Staring into her gaze, all the time from the moment she landed in Cordonia until Liam proposed flashed through her mind. In front of Sexy sat the epitome of all the torment, torture, feeling less than, the whispers, the smirks, the dismissing attitude all wrapped in a crusty green designer dress.

“You say your confused like that’s a hard feat to pull over your head.”, she smirked, “what’s confusing you dear?Perhaps sitting in the chair that should have been mine … in front of the two women you have wronged?”There was no way She could really believe this load of crap she was spewing.

Sexy felt her phone buzz,.. another text from Liam.

“Is that my king reaching out?Madeline was taking please in taunting Sexy .

“It’s nothing… it’s a little late, he’s probably wondering how soon I’ll be there.” Sexy felt her stomach tightening as if she had to retch.She breathed in deeply, composing herself trying to figure out how long before the guard returns.

Madeleine continued her symphony of her windbag concerto. Her voice was sounding a lot like an old phonograph playing at the wrong speed. She focused her attention on Hana playing with her braid by the French doors.

“ Hana… how are you holding up? I heard about your loss, I can only imagine what you must be feeling.” Sexy’s voice registered low and calming, which created the opposite effect on the manic woman that felt she had nothing to lose.

“What Do You know about loss?, she screeched like a banshee. “ you took everything I ever cared about from me.Madeline wouldn’t have cared if Liam and I were lovers, she would have welcomed it. Had you gotten on that plane, both of lives would be so different.” Sexy noticed that Hana’s face was devoid of any emotions. Her words did not match her features.

Madeline chimed in , bolstering a frantic, upset Hana to continue her version of the truth. “ Hana … tell how you know that she’s the reason everybody was tricked into believing the baby was not Liam’s.Tell her how you know she had the results changed in order to get you out of his life even though he loves you.”

Sexy heard a knock on her study door… security guard on the other side. How does she get him to help her without jeopardizing her safety? “ I’m okay… I still have quite a bit to do.” She uttered through the locked door. “ Why don’t you go get some coffee for yourself? I am still wrapped up in things.”

Sexy felt her heart racing although her voice didn’t betray her.She knew she had convinced him there was nothing out of the ordinary occurring.

“ Yes ma’am… I won’t be long.” She held her a breath she did not know she had inside praying that he would go… no questions asked.

“Bravo bitch… I guess your better at deception than I thought.”, Madeleine spit out.

Hana started approaching the desk with desperation in her eyes and disparities.

“Why couldn’t you just leave us be Sexy? Hana’s hands.. raw and skin peeling… her body draped with a T-shirt two sizes too big and jeans loosely fitting from the numerous meals that had been skipped. Sexy could help but notice a crimson stain on her jeans… blood. Blood that was purging from her body , evidence of the miscarriage. Hana was not focused on the here and now. She was fueled by delusions and anger fed to her like a eight course extravagant meal. Sexy’s heart broke for this fragile being detached from reality.

“ Hana… you were there when we worked together to clear my name of the false scandal… remember?” Sexy rose from the chair and slowly moved around the desk , nearing Hana clueless how she would make sense to the senseless.

“Hana … you know perfectly well she stole Liam from me and then from you. He has always saw both of us as kindred spirits and perfect candidates for Queen. Do not let her convince you otherwise.” Watching Madeline manipulating Hana was surreal. Sexy had a lot experience with this woman twisting scenarios to suit her own purpose. “ I will give you some privacy to make damn sure she understands what she has done. Sexy feels she entitled to king Liam, but she must learn her place.

Madeleine stood up from the chair and walked over to Hana giving her a fake hug and smiled wickedly st Sexy. “Ta Ta ladies, I will show myself out and I will be waiting for you Hana once your done.” Madeleine disappeared behind a false wall that had been installed years ago. This was how she managed to get into the palace… unseen. Her years spent at social functions and being engaged formerly to Leo, afforded her free movement around the majestic building.She orchestrated her and Hana movement in and out of Cordonia and Shanghai. “ I’m sure there’s a trail bribes from here to Shanghai allowing her to get a mental patient out so easily.”, she thought to herself watching Hana as three women , became two.

Sexy steadies her breathing and tries to collect her thoughts.She paces back and forth landing in a lean against the front of her desk.Sexy grips the desk edge so tightly, her knuckles turn white.The room is illuminated with a Tiffany desk lamp and moonlight breaking through the doors leading to the balcony. She scans the room and notices the light from her screensaver flashing a notification from Liam. She focuses on the photo locked in her phone of her loving husband holding their son and daughter flashing his crooked smile when he’s up to mischief.Her mind goes to them….God how much she loves them … needs them.. they are her world.Sexy takes her lead from the unstable woman standing in front of her hoping that reason will win out… sanity will win out.She watches Hana pacing the room… anger flashing in her eyes.

“You didn’t want me to give Liam a child… our child. He loves me, but denies it because of you. We were bred to have similar lifestyles and duties. But YOU…. you turned him against me and against our baby. I know… I know you had them kill my baby… you bitch!” Hana frantically rubbed her head, rubbing her forearm as if trying to rid her skin of a poison and fire.

“ Hana… in your heart of hearts you know that not true. You’ve been fed lies to make you feel I was against you. We were friends… once upon a time.I realize you have a lot of emotions floating in your head and it’s hard to make sense of it all.”Sexy tries to coax her to sit together on the couch. She feels if she stops talking, things will go south … fast. Keep talking Sexy, distract her, take her mind off of the lies Madeleine fed her.Sexy’s thoughts are running a hundred miles a minute. She thinks of all the methods she will take advantage of to make the blonde , desperate bitch pay. She knows she has built this powder keg.

Outside the door the guard receives a call from his majesty inquiring about the whereabouts of his queen.

“Sir… her majesty is still inside working and wishes not to be disturbed.”

“ I’m fairly that does not apply to her king.”Suddenly there was a sound of glass crashing to the floor. “What was that!” Liam has a panic stricken voice choking to come out. He knew that the guard was mere feet away from his Queen.

“Sir… I’m going to check on the disturbance now.” The line goes silent and Liam’s heart races not knowing what’s going on. Fear is something his wife spoke so eloquently about weeks ago when the news of Hana was delivered. He promised her that they indeed… they have each other. Fear would no longer dictate his actions. He needed to focus on staying calm and trusting his guards. He knew in his gut that the men and women that protect his family.. do so at great peril to themselves. Liam found himself rooted in the nursery staring down at his children, whispering to them how much he loves them and their mama. He slides his tall stature frame to the floor zoning out waiting to hear back from the guard, better yet his wife.

Back in the queens study, Sexy tries to get through to Hana.The queen failed to get Hana to be seated , but she was jumpy.. this scared Sexy a bit.

Hana moves closer to Sexy’s face glaring… fear flashing before her eyes.

“ You stole my life Sexy.. you stole my child!”, she grimaced and locked her jaw speaking through gritted teeth. Hana out of the blue smiles .. diabolically,” Perhaps… I should become mommy to the twins and join Liam every night in bed… making love all night long. I would ravish him into the early morning hours.” She laughs as she grips sexy hair pulling her head backwards.

Sexy felt her scalp on fire from the location where her hair follicles were in distress. “How would you ...How could you take my place with my family, don’t you think they would notice I’m missing?”

“ Oh Sexy… you wouldn’t be missing, you would be gone… dead. Of course Liam would feign grief for awhile, but he will need a new queen to rule at his side. The twins are so young… they won’t miss you at all… I will be the mother they deserve.First… you have to go.”Sexy felt enraged by her words, she would never leave her family to the devices of a deranged woman.She felt Hana’s hand starting to grip at her throat.One hand soon joined by her second hand, squeezing, droplets of blood drawn oozing down her slender neck.

Sexy found difficulty in breathing, but knew she needed to focus on getting home to her family.. to keep them safe. Images of the time she’s shared with the love of her life and their babies flashed through her … driving a response to fight . Sexy reached for the lamp on her desk finding it hard to reach. Her body slid back on the desk knocking the lamp to the floor sending it to crashing splintered grace. “Damn… I can’t get to it.”, she uttered to herself. While fighting to hold on to consciousness she gripped at anything on her desk when her delicate, manicured fingers found their way to her letter opener. Suddenly fight or flight, Sexy slashes at Hana’s arms trying to free the grasp on her throat.

“ You bitch!”, Hana shouts but this motion creates a window to get away from her grip.

Sexy twist in a tenable position trying to make it to the door … to help.The letter opener falls to the floor.. Sexy’s head slams to the side of the desk incapacity has her momentarily. Hana manages to get ahold of the letter opener and jabs it into Sexy’s back shoulder, before she could lift bit to repeat the action the study door flew open and Hana was tackled by several members of the king’s guard.

Bastien flew into the room on the phone with an ambulance to get help for the Queen.The room was spinning and finally grew dark. Sexy had lost consciousness … she felt a coldness running through her head, blurring her vision.

“ We have to alert his majesty that the queen is in trouble and we are en route to the hospital.Get a staff member to the royal residence to watch the children while the king makes it to her side.

After about 15 minutes, Sexy was rushed through the entrance of the hospital where an urgent care staff waited for her arrival. They raced to get her into the building as quickly as possible avoiding any press. The staff worked in precisioned focus to get to the source of the blood and pinpoint the injuries.The doctor ordered blood test and matching In Case of transfusion necessity. A full battery of standard testing was ran on the Queen while liquid stitches were applied to seal the slight opened gash on the corner of her head. Within minutes the doctor had results in hand on order properly diagnose and care for the Queen.

The doctor’s eyes stretched slightly at the results, “ Are all of these results conclusive? These results here… the levels are elevated. I would like to get an ultrasound ordered immediately.”Medical staff flying around in a flurry tending to the VIP patient.

Liam’s SUV came to a jaunting stop in front of the private entrance that had been communicated prior to arrival by Bastien. The head of his King’s guard met his majesty outside the entrance. Bastien opened the rear door allowing quick exit .

“Where is she ?!Take me to her now!” Liam composes himself as he took long strides through the corridors to find his wife.The ever stoic king could not breathe until he laid eyes on his Queen.Panic setting in not knowing what happened and the status of the love of his life. Bastien ushered him into a private waiting room set aside for royalty and nobles. “ Bastien … tell me how the hell we ended up in the hospital when I had my Queen in her study working!”He ran his large hands over his head , finally allowing for his breath to escape. The door opened after a quiet knock, “ Your majesty, I am Dr. Ashton the attending physician caring for the Queen. We have managed to seal the wound on her head.”The doctor paused allowing Liam to process the information that was just conveyed. “Sir… May I speak to you in private regarding her majesty?”

Liam’s blue eyes darted between his personal guard and the doctor.Bastien bowed and exited the room allowing the two men to speak freely.After several moments the doctor continued with his train of thought.

“Sir… her majesty was bought in unconscious . She has not regained consciousness since being here. We are wanting to perform a cat scan on her head to check for internal injuries, but we first need to make sure there are no adverse risk to her.”

Alarm flits across Liam’s face at the nervousness to complete his thought. “ what is that.. what risk?”

“ Sir we ran several test to determine blood type and possible mitigating factors that could complicate course of treatment.Your majesty...we need to perform an ultrasound to determine how far along her majesty is.”

Liam felt his heart race and the sound of the doctor’s voice fading away. “Did… I hear you correctly? We’re pregnant?” Liam smile was quickly replaced with concern, “ so you feel the scan can pose a risk to her and the baby?”

The doctor led Liam over to be seated while addressing his concerns… “ the scan will not be performed on her abdomen, so there is minimal exposure to radiation. We will first determine how far along the pregnancy progressed. If you join me in her room , we are about to do an ultrasound.”

“Let’s go… she hasn’t been feeling well , but we thought she had a bug.” Liam felt such a swell knowing that another child was created from their love. Here she was fighting her way back to him… and fighting for the life of their child he was unaware she was carrying. Liam and the doctor, followed by Bastien madd their way into the room holding the Queen setting up for an ultrasound.

“ Your majesty when her results came back, her HcG levels were extremely high.The ultrasound should give us an indication what’s going on.”Dr. Ashton moves the rolling table holding the machines around to the side of the bed exposing Sexy’s stomach.He squeezes a gel on her stomach to enhance the imaging.Liam took hold of her hand, thumb absentmindedly stroking her skin.within minutes of moving the probe over her abdomen… an image appeared on the screen.Liam was now eyes locked watching the first glimpse of his child, their child. His breath hitched in his throat knowing this blip was a manifestation of the love they share.

“Sir… right here is baby# 1… and here is baby # 2.” Liam’s fist flew to his lips trying to conceal a scream from escaping. His eyes glossy with tears threatening to spill over.He moves closer to the bed as the doctor continued to check measurements and approximate due date.He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to side of her head.Liam closes his eyes briefly taking in the moment of hearing that he would be a father again.

“ Your majesty, based on the measurements, I would say she is about 12 weeks pregnant with twins.Dr. Ashton smiled warmly, “ congratulation to you both.I am going to make arrangements for her scan right away.”, I will give you a minute alone with her majesty.

Liam smiles, “thank you, just make sure she’s okay… they’re okay. I’m trusting my extended family to you.Dr. Ashton nods and exits the room.

“Bastien…. please contact duchess Olivia and request she go to the palace to stay with the twins until morning when the nannies arrive. I don’t want just anyone with them. I need to make sure Sexy doesn’t have to worry about them when she wakes up.”

Bastien bends deeply at the waist and proceeds to satisfy his King’s request. Suddenly the room was eerily quiet, he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“My love… there’s so much going through my mind, but first I need to see you open your beautiful eyes.”, he sniffs trying to hold back the tears again. “ I need to see the look in your eyes when you learn we are need to prepare for twins again. Did you know you we’re with child? That doesn’t matter now… I never thought I could be happier than the day you shared with me we would be starting our family. Sexy … you are my dreams personified. I need you… to wake up so we can plan the biggest celebration Cordonia has ever seen.I need to be able to hold you and thank you for everything you have given me , as a man. I remember you telling me titles are not important, it’s not the measure of the man. You were happy to love me… just Liam.”He felt his heart breaking and overflowing with love at the same time. “ You asked me what I desired for my birthday… there is no greater gift than to learn we are expecting again.”, he chuckles to himself quietly. Suddenly realization setting in.. twelve weeks… he grins thinking back to when they shared paradise. “ Elafonissi, we started anew and lord and behold… new additions to our family.”

Liam moves further down the bed , leans down and kisses her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you two… welcome to the family my newest angels” He gazed up and silently prayed for his mother’s spirit to watch over his unborn children, her would be grandchildren. The door opened slowly… “ we are ready for her your majesty.”

He watched as his heart in human form is wheeled down the hall , “ Bastien… you all had damn well better make sure that crazy bitch doesn’t escape again. I tried showing compassion and where did that get me… with my Queen in a hospital fighting to protect our children.I need this handled… Now!”

Bastien quickly retreated outside to make calls and get the ball rolling to find out… what the fuck just happened.

“ Don’t worry my love.. I’m here and I’m not leaving without you.”Liam slumps in the chair awaiting her return … pondering where he failed her, he knew he had to make this right.

#king liam #choices trr #trr mc #king liam x mc #liam x mc #pixelberry #the royal romance #trr3 #trr hana

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kusunogatari · 5 years

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[ Portal Peril || Chapter Six ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Namikaze Minato, Hatake Kakashi, Nohara Rin, Uzumaki Kushina ] [ Verse: White Hands of Healing ] [ Previous || Next ]

Heart leaping to her throat, Ryū finds herself frozen for a moment, eyes wide. But then her heartbeat kickstarts, and she takes off back up the road, Obito on her heels.

All the while, Kakashi takes a nervous step backward, which makes Ryū’s brows furrow. Why does he look so -?

Just as the other pair reach the proper part of the road, she sees why.

Gloved hands gripping the edge of the dimensional tear, Obito makes to haul himself out of it. He looks just as he did when she left, plus a little more dried blood and dirt. His eyes are wide, Mangekyō bright as he manically stares at this dimension’s Kakashi.

To anyone else, the scene is rather unsettling. But to Ryū, it’s the greatest relief she’s seen in...a very long time.

But as he steps through and the portal closes, she panics. Can...can they still get back? Or are they now both trapped here?!

“Where is she?” Obito rasps, tone exhausted and yet determined. “Where is Suigin Ryū?”

Rather than answer, Kakashi just points, clearly wanting to divert the madman’s attention.

Swiveling to follow the digit, he first lays eyes on Ryū. Time seems to hiccup as they lock gazes, and the subtle madness in his gaze softens to an unfathomable relief.

But then his eyes flick to the figure just behind her...and they widen all over again.

“...you…”

“...Obito, what -?”

Ignoring Ryū’s interjection, Obito moves her aside with a hand on her shoulder before reeling back and clocking his double in the jaw.

A sound of alarm comes from Kakashi as the other Uchiha goes down hard, completely blindsided.

“You! You let this happen!”

“Obito, stop it!” Ryū attempts to cut in, only to be ignored.

“You hesitated, didn’t you? Wasted time! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to get her back?!”

“Obito!” Forcing herself between them, Ryū cups her Obito’s cheeks, directing his gaze to her and refusing to let him look away. “They’ve been trying this whole time! Kakashi and Obito both!”

“But -?”

“Yes, at first we left, but that was to go speak with Minato-sama. We weren’t sure how to get this to work! We had to figure that out before just trying things willy nilly! I promise you, they’ve been working on getting the window back open since I got here. It’s not his fault!”

Breath still rushing through his nose, Obito stares at her, fury and disappointment still clear in his eyes. But the longer she holds him, the quicker it dissipates until there’s nothing left of his burning temper but ashes. Instead, his expression softens...and then crumbles. Arms lift to wrap around her torso tightly, earning a small gasp at the force of his grip. Brow ducking to the crook of her neck, he whispers, “...I was so scared...that I would...t-that I would never see you again.”

She can feel the wet of his tears against her skin, her own brimming along her lids as she holds him back. “...I’m sorry...me too. I’ve barely slept...are you all right?”

“...I don’t know…”

Part of her wants to ask how badly he’s been treating himself in the wake of his efforts, but...there will be time for that later. Time for commiserating over...all of this later. “...it’s all right. We’re together now...it’s going to be okay…” A hand spares to comb through his hair, feeling him shake slightly in both exhaustion and relief.

All the while, the other pair watch in a stunned silence. Kakashi cautiously moves to help his teammate up. “...well, that’s...not quite how I pictured that going,” he notes dryly. “...you okay?”

“Fine, just...a little sore. Guy’s got one hell of an arm.”

“Guess you’d know.”

The chatter urges the pair apart, Ryū looking slightly sheepish. But Obito still looks to them with a furrowed brow, expression dark with suspicion. “...so, Kakashi was right...this is another timeline. With another me...and him.”

“Er...yeah,” the other Obito replies, clearly a bit shaken. “Look, I...I’m sorry about...well, everything. I certainly didn’t mean to pull her through, and...maybe going to sensei wasn’t the best idea. But I was kinda, well...surprised. And had no idea what to do.”

“...sensei…?”

“...Namikaze Minato?” the other Obito clarifies. “You, uh...you know him?”

Something passes over Obito’s face. “...yeah.”

“Rin is here, Obito,” Ryū then offers softly. “And Kushina.”

“Look, uh...if you want, we could maybe...show you around?” the jōnin Uchiha offers, gesturing back toward Konoha. “I mean, it’s not like you’ll ever -”

“No.”

“...but -?”

“I don’t want or need to see it,” Obito replies, tone bitter. “...besides, it’s been bad enough having one person from another timeline here. My presence would likely only cause larger distortions. I don’t want to...cause any more damage…”

Ryū gives him a somber glance. “...I guess you have a point. Though...oddly enough, no one here seems to know me.”

“...really?”

“Mhm. Or my clan. So...I think overall, the damage can’t be that bad. Especially since only, what...six people know who I am? Minato, and his family, and his team. No one else has really spoken to me.”

“And you were careful about what you said?”

“Of course.”

Obito heaves a heavy sigh. “...we need to head back.”

“...but -?”

“We shouldn’t be here to begin with,” he insists, tone firm.

“I know, but koi...you’re clearly exhausted,” Ryū gently pleads. “Just...take a little time to rest. Please. If I know you, you’ve been doing this nonstop for four days. You need to let your body recover, at least for a few hours.”

His nostrils flare with a curt breath...but in the end he knows there’s no arguing, no matter how soft her tone is. “...fine.”

“If you, uh...if you want, you could henge and come into the village. Just...get yourself cleaned up a bit,” the other Obito offers, lifting placating hands as Obito makes to retort. “...no offense, but...you look like hell.”

In spite of himself, Obito snorts. “...you have a point.” His head bows, eyes closing in thought. “...fine. But just...a few hours. No one can know.”

“I mean...sensei and his wife already know about you. But I can’t really been seen with a twin, otherwise. Once we get to sensei’s house, you can rest and clean up, and just...take a breather. Then we’ll send you both on your way.”

Watching the exchange, Ryū glances to the other Obito at the notion of goodbyes...but his face is a careful blank. “...that should work well. Come on, koi…”

There’s a brief pause, and then Obito uses a bit of chakra to transform. Ryū gives him a long glance, recognizing the rather plain facade he took back when he fetched her from Konoha just as Pein fell upon the village. With that, he stubbornly takes her hand and makes to follow as his twin and Kakashi make their way back up the road. Despite her occasional look over, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, the tension in his chakra quite noticeable to her senses as he stares a hole into the back of the other Obito’s head.

They split as Kakashi goes to speak to Minato and tell him of their success, Obito taking them to the Yondaime’s house. When Kushina opens the door, her brow furrows at the strange face...but then eyes go wide as she quickly puts two and two together. “...you did it…?”

“Yeah, uh...mind if we come in?”

“Of course! Here, come on…” She holds open the door, expression astounded. “He’s transformed?”

“Yeah, well...thought that made more sense than pretending I’d made a shadow clone. He’s in pretty rough shape after the last few days...mind if he rests up here and gets clean?”

“Of course! You can drop the disguise now, we’re all privy,” Kushina assures him.

There’s an awkward pause, and then Obito dispels the jutsu. His face is a careful blank.

Ryū already knows why. The last Obito saw of Kushina...he’d just finished sealing her fate the night Naruto was born.

“...thank you,” he offers stiffly, letting her direct him to the washroom.

“I’ll, uh...go get him some of my clothes - those are pretty...dingy,” this plane’s Obito then offers, quickly disappearing.

“...well that’s not how I expected that to go,” Kushina muses, crossing her arms.

“...it’s a long story,” Ryū assures her with a sigh.

“So I take it you have a way to get back…?”

“I’m...not sure, actually. But I’m willing to bet they’ll figure it out.” Or so she hopes. Having her Obito here is better than nothing, but she’d still much rather be home with him, if she had the choice.

“Well, I’ll whip up some lunch - he looks famished, poor thing. I’m sure Minato will be here any minute, too…”

Obito then returns with fresh clothes, leaving them outside the bathroom door. “He’s, um…”

Ryū perks a brow, allowing a hint of amusement as he tries to speak.

“...not what I expected.”

“I promise that’s not what he’s typically like. He just spent four days post-mission and post-battle working his chakra to the dregs. All while panicking. And I’m...really sorry he punched you.”

“I mean...it is what it is. I can’t blame him.”

“Still…” Reaching up, she cups a palm over his swollen jaw, feeling him stiffen slightly. “...you didn’t deserve that.” Chakra flares as she works on the swelling.

“Debatable.”

Towel ruffling his wet hair, Obito then comes back in behind them, pausing at what he sees. “...thanks for the clothes.”

The other Obito jumps, taking a step back and breaking Ryū’s grip. “...you’re welcome.”

Giving him a warning glower, Obito makes his way around to stand beside Ryū. “How long do we have to stay?”

“Until you’ve eaten something and had a chance to rest,” she gently chides. A hand reaches up and tries to tame his towel-ruffled hair. “I can still sense how low your levels are.”

“Hn…”

Not long after, Minato and Kakashi arrive, the Hokage staring in clear surprise at seeing double. “...well I’ll be damned,” he can’t help but murmur. “You really did it.”

“Kakashi did, admittedly,” Obito offers. “I was, uh…”

“And do you think you can reopen the portal back?”

“I can,” the true Obito offers, tone a bit...stiff in the presence of another he was responsible for ending in their plane. “I think, so long as one of you open up to Kamui, I can finish the bridge from there.”

“...I see. Well...consider me both glad and a bit sad this is finally over. Ryū-san has been a pleasant guest, but...well, this isn’t where she belongs.”

“Thank you...for watching over her while she was here,” Obito then murmurs, tone truly grateful. “I appreciate it.”

“No trouble at all. As I said...we were glad to know her, even if the circumstances were...questionable. She’ll be missed.”

“All right, enough yakkin’!” Kushina then cuts in. “Someone fetch Rin - we’ve got lunch ready!”

They’re nearly sat down when Rin arrives, brown eyes wide as she makes her way in.

In turn, Obito stares back.

Ryū’s eyes flicker between them, expression carefully blank.

“...wow...you really do look just like him…!” A grin grows across her face. “That’s so...weird! But also cool! But mostly weird!”

“Er…” He balks unsure how to respond.

“Well forgetting everything else, let me tell you something, sir,” Rin then goes on, pointing a finger. “You better appreciate what you’ve got!”

“...what?”

“Not a minute went by I couldn’t tell Ryū wasn’t thinking about you. You’ve got yourself one hell of a woman there, Obito.”

After a pause of surprise, something softens in him. “...yeah. I know.”

The group (including both Obito) then settle in to eat, Obito mostly watching awkwardly as the rest casually interact. Even Ryū does so without qualms, but a glance to him makes her pause. Without a word, she leans against him gently, going quiet as she instead listens to the others talk.

Then, after his meal and short respite, Obito insists he has the energy to return them home.

Ryū’s lips purse, but she can’t really argue. He’s still tired, but has the chakra needed. “...all right.”

“Well, I hate to say it, but I can’t go send you off properly,” Minato offers. “I need to get back to work. But I wish you both luck.”

“Thank you, Minato-sama,” Ryū replies with a smile. “Thank you for everything.”

“I was happy to do it.”

“I’ll send you off now, too,” Kushina offers, pulling them both into a tight bear hug. “Now you be careful with that space-time ninjutsu from now on! As much as I like seein’ ya, and as much as I’ll miss ya...you need to be home where you belong.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ryū replies, grinning sheepishly. “...thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“We’ll all head down with you,” Rin then offers, gesturing to her team. “We’ll save our sappy goodbyes for the portal.”

Henged again, Obito walks beside Ryū as team Minato leads the way, the Hokage back in his office where he belongs. Eventually they reach the proper part of the road, and the group stops.

“Well...guess this is it,” Rin sighs, hands on her hips. “I won’t lie...this is gonna be tough.”

“I’ll miss you guys,” Ryū admits, hands clasped at her front. “Thank you for everything. All of you.”

“Happy to, as sensei said,” Kakashi offers, eye crinkling with a smile.

“Just...be careful on the other side,” Obito then offers, managing a hint of a smile.

“We will…”

With that, Obito awakens his Sharingan, his doppleganger doing the same. First a tunnel into Kamui opens, and then another to the same road on the other plane.

Ryū’s heart thrills in her chest. They’re almost home…

“I’ll go first, to keep it open,” Obito offers. Just in case, he gives her hand a squeeze, eyes flickering between her own before stepping through.

Facing the portal, Ryū heaves a sigh before giving one last glance. “...goodbye.”

Kakashi and Rin both nod, the latter looking a bit teary eyed. And then there’s Obito, clearly doing his best to keep his face blank.

“...guess, uh...that’s it, then.”

“...yeah.”

“You know…” He hesitates, and then gives a huff of a laugh, head bowing. “...think I might take a trip up north. See about finding a certain village up there.”

Ryū’s expression lightens.

“...who knows? Maybe you’ll be up there. Maybe we’ll get along half as well as you two seem to, huh?” He manages a more genuine smile. “...take care of him, okay? Seems he needs it...and you’re the perfect person for the job.”

“...I will. Take care, Obito.” Stepping up, she gives him a feather-light press of her lips to his cheek. “...I hope you find what you’re looking for.” And with that, there’s one last smile before she steps through...and the portal closes.

...it’s oddly quiet on the other side.

For a long moment, they both just...stand there, the weight of the past four days clearly making itself known. Locking eyes, small smiles bloom across their faces. Cutting the distance, Ryū loosely takes Obito’s hands in hers, face tilting up as he lowers his brow to hers. Not quite the dramatic gestures of before, but...it’s enough.

“...it’s going to take me four days to tell you how much I missed you,” she murmurs, eyes closed.

“I’ll be lucky to do it in four months.”

That earns a soft laugh. “...let’s go home, ne...?”

“One last pitstop, first.”

With the familiar feeling of flattening lungs, Ryū takes a breath as they resurface...in the Hokage’s office? And for a moment, she turns and expects to see Minato sitting there.

Instead, it’s a wide-eyed Kakashi.

“...well,” he eventually offers. “...seems you got her back.”

“...mhm.”

“...I knew you would.” Kakashi’s mask lifts with a smile. “...so, as promised, I’ll get you that week off. And uh...looks like you need it. Did you sleep at all the last three nights…?”

“You don’t want to know,” Obito replies dryly.

Kakashi then steeples his fingers, leaning forward a bit with curiosity. “So...got a few minutes to share some of your misadventures?”

“Not much to tell, really...mostly just waiting around for the other Obito and Kakashi to get me back,” Ryū offers with a shrug.

“Any major differences between that dimension and ours?”

“...mostly people still alive,” Ryū admits softly. “Obviously I ran into Obito first. Then he brought me into Konoha to meet with Minato-sama. He was still acting as Yondaime. And...Rin was there, too. I was mostly left with her and Kushina while Kakashi and Obito worked on the portal.” It feels a bit...odd to tell Kakashi about Kakashi. “There’d been no fourth war...which, I suppose, makes sense.”

“Given that the catalyst’s life was rather different,” Kakashi agrees. There’s an odd tinge to his tone that Ryū can’t quite identify. “I can only assume that having my team alive meant I wasn’t such a mess?”

She gives a hint of a smile. “Well...honestly I didn’t see much of other-you. But you actually seemed fairly similar, at least in your mannerisms. You and Rin were a thing, though.”

His eyes go wide. “...uh -?”

“Wait, really?” Obito cuts in.

“Mhm.”

“...I have to wonder where things split...after all, the other Obito had his scars,” he muses, brow furrowed. “So...the mission at Kannabi Bridge obviously went the same.”

“Maybe something changed when Kakashi went to save Rin. I never saw if she had any kind of scar…” Ryū mulls that over. “...well, either way, the other Obito was a jōnin of Konoha. And I don’t think he ever got a replacement for the eye Kakashi was given - he wore a hitai-ate over it.”

“He seemed like a bit of an idiot,” Obito mutters, earning a giggle.

“I think it was less him being an idiot and more him just being...less cynical?” Ryū gives Obito a small, sly smile. “I always got the impression you were a goof when you were a kid. I guess without Madara’s full influence and losing Rin...that didn’t fade as much, ne?”

Obito’s lips curl in a pout. “...he still screwed everything up…”

“Well...we were both pretty panicked. Though I did, er...demand he try then and there. But he was certain he should talk to Minato first…and even then, he’d moved around and lost focus - there’s no guarantee he’d be able to immediately line it up again then.”

“Hn…”

“Well,” Kakashi then cuts in, reclining back into his chair. “I think I get the gist. You both look exhausted, so I’ll let you go.”

“...what about my chakra?” Obito then asks. “Need to reseal it before I leave?”

“Actually...you’ve been granted permanent, partial access,” Kakashi replies, tone a bit smug as their eyes go wide. “I made a little deal with Koharu and Homura. If you came back without incident, and with Ryū...it’d be proof enough you can handle it. Just...don’t make me look like a fool by doing something stupid with it, hm?”

Obito stares for a moment. “...well, you know me and stupid.”

“...you go hand in hand, I know. Just...give it your best effort, then. Now go home. I imagine you two have some...catching up to do,” the Rokudaime them offers, shooing them out. “I don’t want to see you for a week.”

“...thanks, Kakashi.”

“Don’t thank me quite yet. You might still get in trouble and make this all a moot point.”

Snorting, Obito then can’t help a grin. Pulling Ryū to his side, he warps one last time with his Sharingan back into the sitting room of their little house. “...I never thought I’d ever be as glad to see this place as I am right now.”

“Mm...me neither,” Ryū agrees softly. “...for right now, though...all I want to do is go lie down, with you, and sleep for a day. I need to be as close to you as possible for the next twenty-four hours.”

“I can agree to that.”

And here it is, folks: our little lovebirds are finally back home where they belong. Part of me wishes this could have been longer, but...in all reality, it probably would have dragged, otherwise. And we don't want that! But I do have a wee little epilogue to post here in a moment, so...it's not QUITE over yet ;3 But as for this part, thanks for reading!

#abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #namikaze minato #hatake kakashi #nohara rin #uzumaki kushina #white hands of healing [ canon verse ]

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rewritingthestars · 6 years

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So uh, i might have written an entire fic of neil as ironman? Oops??

Part 1 of 3

Desert surrounds them on both sides of the cruiser. Neil stares blankly at the seat in front of him, not bothering to look up. Romero’s presence is a silent threat next to him, watching him out of the corner of his eye. The American soldiers tasked with escorting them seem uneasy in their tension, sharing looks between themselves and at Neil.

Neil’s sure he wasn't what they expected. A billionaire kid genius that's made every weapon that they ever touched gives the impression of someone much more imposing than Neil. Not that Neil cares particularly for his reputation. It’s been tainted since the moment he was born.

The silence finally breaks when a missile soars into the cruiser in front of them, exploding half the vehicle and throwing the rest of the debris in front of them.

One of the two soldiers screams, “Get down!” Before another blast rocks their cruiser, sending Neil into the door with a hard crack. The telltale ringing of explosions and gunshots fill his ears and he blinks harshly to get a grasp on his surroundings.

Romero grabs him by the arm and drags him out of the vehicle, throwing him to the ground and shooting randomly in the direction of their attackers. Three shots hit Romero, his bulletproof vest only taking two of the hits, the other going right through his skull.

Neil stares dazedly at Romero’s corpse uncomprehendingly, before the adrenaline finally kicks in and tells him to run. He stumbles to his feet, blasts and bullets still flying through the air, crouching low and running to large pieces of metal for cover.

He hides behind the remains of a car door, clenching his hands over his ears uselessly to stop the ringing, before a heavy black cylinder lands at his feet and neil only has half a moment to feel resigned to his fate, the large white letters spelling WESNINSKI mocking him as he prepares to die by his own creation.

————

“Its my company.” Neil hisses out, clenching his fists so hard his fingernails dig blood.

Lola smiles wickedly, her bright red lipstick only adding to the image of a monster, her eyes bright with joy.

“Oh, but Junior,” She says with false sadness, ”You're only nineteen, and just oh, so upset over your daddy's death. What kind of mother would I be to let you take up such a large responsibility?”

“You're not my mother!” Neil yells, ”And we both know that bastard never treated me like a son. I am more than capable of running Wesninski, it’s my name, my tech, my knowledge that's even gotten this damn company this far-“

Lola tsks, shaking her head dramatically, ”Of course Nathaniel, I know that, but the board won't understand that. I worry they just won't be able to see past your horrific breakdown.”

Neil’s blood runs cold, and he takes a step back to the door he’s now sure is locked, feeling panic swell inside him. ”What breakdown.”

Lola’s smile widens, her manic laughter piercing his ears, and Neil runs to the door, slamming his hand on the screen next to it. The hand scanner pressed underneath his palm flashes red, and Neil feels Lola’s hands dig into his shoulder blades before a needle pierces his neck.

——-

Neil wakes up surrounding by dark, pain filtering his system inside and out. An uncomfortable pressure weighs down on his sternum, and he moves his hand to push it off. Metal scratches underneath his fingernails and Neil gasps at the pain the comes when he tries to push it off. His eyes snap open, looking down hurriedly to see a metal disk protruding from his chest, bile rising in his throat as his eyes following the wires from it to what looks like a car battery. Panic and sickness push to the surface and he's stumbling, feet swinging over the metal slab that he's on, his heart racing and eyes flickering frantically around.

“Stop moving around for god’s sakes, do you know how much goddamn time and energy it took to keep you alive?!” A voice shouts out, and neil flinches back, turning around to see a grimly looking woman with her arms crossed, a stern look on her face like that of a disapproving mother.

“What is this, where am I?” Neil demands quickly, panic still pulsing through his veins as he tenses for a fight he couldn't possibly win.

“Nice to meet you too kid, I’m Shahrazad,” the woman mocks, ”I only created the thing that's stopping shrapnel from tearing your heart to pieces, no big deal.”

Neil stills for a moment, taking a quick breath to center himself, taking another look at the machine connected to him. “A magnet.” Neil says absently, tracing the crude craftsmanship.

“Yes,” Shahrazad says, “An electromagnet that saved your life.”

“Oh.” Neil says,” Thank you.”

Shahrazad scoffs, ”Well of course, anything for the great Nathaniel Wesninski.”

Neil flinches at his full name, and Shahrazad's eyes soften slightly.

She looks away, ”You're in a Ten Rings base. This is a hostage situation.”

Neil frowns, ”Wh-“

The only door in the cave like room rattles, and Shahrazad stiffens.

”Get up,” she hisses, and then pulls at him to move, ”Get up, if you want to live you will do as I say.”

Standing is unsteady and excruciatingly painful, but Neil’s use to pain and he's use to pretending he isn't in any, so he straightens up and raises his hands in tangent with Shahrazad.

Large bulky men walk through the door, all carrying weapons and dangerous glares. The first man through is the only one wearing a smile and he grins large and wide at Neil.

”Nathaniel Wesninski, America’s favorite mass murderer,” The man says in farsi, ”It's an honor.”

Shahrazad unnecessarily translates, and Neil lets her. Farsi is his fourth fluent language and Neil is internally grateful he picked farsi over russian in college.

“I have an. Appreciation, let's call it, for your talents. Your weapons are rather useful for my cause, but there's one in particular that catches my eye.”

Neil would like to believe these men stole his weapons somehow, would like to believe Lola wouldn't sell his tech to terrorist groups, but he cant find it in himself to be surprised if she did. The man pulls out a blurry photo that couldn't have been taken too long ago, and Neil feels dread well up inside him as he realizes what he wants.

“You will build me Jericho,” The man says cheerfully, ”Because if you don’t, you will die here.”

———

“-thiel Wesninski, son and successor of Nathan Wesninski, comes out of rehab today. The child prodigy that helped his father build what is today, a very successful multi-billion dollar company, has been institutionalized since his mental breakdown after his father's tragic passing. Rumors have been going around that Wesninski is thinking of taking over his father's company despite his grief. Is it a good idea for such a young, troubled man to take over a large company? Or would it be better for Lola Wesninski, Nathan's second wife, to take the reins while Nathaniel recovers? Next up is-“

“Jarvis, turn off the tv,” Neil says loudly.

“As you wish sir,” The voice says from the walls, the tv shutting off soundly.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Neil mumbles to himself, concentrating on the blueprints in front of him and frowning.

Lola cheerfully calls it Jericho. Neil calls it the worst damn thing he's ever created. If Neil was selfless enough he'd burn every hard drive related to the machine and shoot himself in the head. But Neil has always looked out for himself foremost, and he can't bring himself to destroy the monster he's created. It would be suicide, and though he shouldn't be worth even one life, his self preservation doesn't seem to care when Lola’s the one holding the trigger.

“Brilliant,” Lola says brightly. ”Your best work yet.”

——-

“He's not going to let you go,” Shahrazad says.

Neil snorts over a pile of metal, ”No shit.”

Sharazad has been cold with him since he agreed to build Jericho. She translates when he asks for materials but that's the extent of her friendliness.

She's been watching him take apart his own missiles and weapons for hours, getting more irritated as time goes on.

“Do you even care that you’re selling mass destructive tools to psychopaths? Do you care about how many lives, how much blood your creations spill? Are you so young and naive you don't understand the repercussions of your actions?”

Neil grits his teeth, trying to focus on removing the palladium, trying to concentrate on his badly thought out ideas and his even more flawed plans. He knows they're watching his every move through the cameras, knows the moment he finishes they'll kill him, knows the hastily made electromagnet won't last for much longer. Yet images of dead bodies and shrapnel won't leave his head and he puts down the pliers.

“My father has been making me make tools to kill other people since I was eight years old.” Neil says quietly in farsi, and Shahrazad falls silent. “When I was old enough to realize what I was doing I told him I never wanted to invent another thing again. He took one of my prototypes and shot me with it. He told me I could either hurt other people, or he could hurt me.”

Neil resumes his work, ”When he died I tried to take over and ended up being tortured for six months. No matter what I do, I will always be someone’s means to killing someone else.” Neil pulls the small strip of metal out and pushes the rest of the junk aside.

Shahrazad is quiet for a moment but it doesn't last. “Bullshit.” She says harshly, ”It’s your name, your inventions, your legacy. There is no more time to be a child, you must stick up for yourself and your beliefs or you will always be nothing more than a tool. Get over yourself and fight like everyone else does.”

Neil stares at her wide eyed for a moment, and then grins something grim. ”I’m trying. Will you help me?”

She glowers for another moment then grins right back at him her smile full of bared teeth. ”What do you have in mind?”

———-

Neil finds him in his kitchen, scrolling through his phone and not bothering to look up when Neil walks in.

Neil blinks, staring at the stranger and wondering if he should be worried or not. He isn’t, but that’s more so due to dissociation than familiarity.

“Um,” Neil says stupidly, ”Can I help you?”

The man raises a brow, finally looking up from his phone to stare blankly at Neil. He doesn't speak but he stands up, moving closer to Neil as if to inspect him.

“I thought you were suppose to look like your father.” The man says boredly, and Neil stiffens.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not even close.” He says. “Andrew Minyard, Foxhole reporter, my boss wanted me to interview the broken billionaire. I can't say I’m impressed.”

“Fuck you.” Neil says, instinctually, ”How the hell did you even get in here?”

“For a supposed technological genius, your security is embarrassingly easy to crack.”

“This is breaking and entering. I could have you arrested.”

Andrew sorts,”If you were going to call the cops you would have done so the moment you saw a stranger in your house.”

“How did you know I wouldn’t call them?”

“I didn’t,” Andrew says simply, “But now I do.” And then he walks away, to the door, as if he got what he needed. Before Andrew opens the door he says, ”So prodigy, are you going to live up to your name sake, or are you going to step out of a dead man’s shadow?”

Andrew looks at him over his shoulder, ”I have a feeling we’ll all be unsurprisingly disappointed with your answer.” And goes, leaving Neil with just his anger and a sudden urge to prove the world wrong.

——-

“This plan is terrible.” Shahrazad says plainly, and not even Neil’s pride can argue with her.

“Do you have a better one?” Neil snaps, and she looks at him unimpressed.

“This will kill you.” She says.

Neil shrugs. “It could, but it could also save us.”

Shahrazad shakes her head, ”You're insane.”

“That is the general consensus, yes.”

Shahrazad sighs, and it’s almost fond. “This will not be pleasant.”

Neil smiles ruthlessly. “When is anything ever pleasant?” He says, and Shahrazad rips out the magnet in his chest.

———

Neil wakes up to the press of a body behind him and sighs. This is the third time Andrew has ended in his bed and probably won’t be the last.

Neil doesnt know how it started. Andrew is irritating and cryptic and obnoxious, but he’s also funny and smart and he doesn’t put up with Neil’s shit.

When they first started fooling around Andrew pressed his hands into Neil’s scars and didn’t flinch away, and for whatever reason that was enough.

“You’re thinking too loud.” Andrew mutters behind him, the arm he has around Neil’s waist tightening. Neil shifts slightly, wanting to relax in Andrew’s embrace but knowing he shouldn’t.

“You should leave.” Neil says, and Andrew stiffens.

“Why.” He says in a voice Neil hates, the one were his emotions are hidden and indistinguishable. Neil rolls around and looks at him. This close he can see Andrews’ freckles, the way the morning light touches his cheekbones, and Neil wants him so awful it hurts.

“If she finds out about you she’ll hurt you.” Neil says quietly, and Andrew’s eyes become sharp with anger.

“Why are you so afraid of her?” He demands, sitting up,” What does she have over you?”

“Everything.” Neil says honestly. “Everything but you.”

#My writing #tfc #Andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #lola malcolm #cw implied torture #cw implied abuse #neil is ironman #which makes andrew pepper potts?#i have three lab reports and a presentation on carbon storage due and instead i watched iron man and wrote this #validate my procrastination

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years

Text

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter Ten

Summary: Emma Swan is ten years old when she sees the bright blue eyes staring back at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 23. Based on the prompt: “A child is kidnapped and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.”

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Attempted rape and violence in chapter two

Can catch up on Ao3

Tagging: @kmomof4 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kday426 @snidgetsafan @jennjenn615 @delirious-latenight-laughs @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says

Chapter Ten: Things Get Interesting

“Emma,” Neal breathes out, with the tiniest sigh.

Emma’s eyes narrow because he doesn’t seem as surprised to see her as she is to see him. She grips Martha’s hand a bit tighter and her other hand goes to her swelling abdomen with no conscious thought. Neal’s eyes follow the movement of her hands, his brow furrowing as he gazes first at Martha, then at Emma’s belly, and back again. The look that fills his eyes seems a lot like hurt, and it makes rage swell deep in Emma’s heart because he has no right. No right at all to be upset that she finally conquered the wounds he gave her.

“Sweetheart?” Snow asks tentatively, reaching out to touch Emma’s elbow.

“I’ll be okay, Mom,” Emma whispers, but her mother doesn’t go anywhere.

Martha must pick up on the tension radiating through Emma’s body because she lets go of her mother’s hand to wrap both arms as far around her pregnant waist as she can.

“Mama?” she says hesitantly, gazing up at Neal with wide, fearful eyes.

Her daughter’s voice finally rouses Emma, and she shakes her head. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Neal still seems taken aback by her pregnant body and the little girl who is clinging to her. He points at first Martha, then Emma’s waist. “She’s your . . . and you are . . . “

“What is it, Neal, huh?” Emma snaps. “You still thought I would be waiting for you? Or in jail maybe? For your crime?”

Out of the corner her of her eye, she sees her mother’s jaw drop and her eyes widen. She blinks as realization seems to wash over her. Her hand at Emma’s elbow tightens in solidarity and understanding. It causes strength to rise up within her.

Neal shakes his head, recoiling from her words. “You got a lot of nerve, Emma, painting me the villain here. I know you hid my son from me.”

Emma gasps and fear claws at her chest. “You stay the hell away from him!” She shakes her way out of her mother’s grip as her voice rises.

��I have a right to meet him,” Neal argues, stepping closer to Emma. Martha whimpers and hides behind her mother.

“Watch it!” Snow hisses, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with her daughter and further shielding Martha.

“Says who?” Emma argues. “You left me. No, you betrayed me. I owe you nothing. Henry owes you nothing.”

“You didn’t even tell me about him!” Neal thunders, grabbing her arm. Martha shrieks. Snow lifts her hand to ward off his approach.

“Get your hands off my wife!” another voice thunders from the end of the hallway.

If Neal showed no surprise whatsoever at seeing Emma, he’s certainly showing it now. He releases Emma immediately, stumbling backwards, face pale as if he’s seen a ghost. When Martha shouts “Papa!” and runs into her father’s arms, Neal swallows at a lump in his throat, and his nostrils flare with sudden rage.

“You!” he hisses at Killian, lifting a trembling hand to point at the pirate.

Emma is confused by Neal’s reaction, but she presses herself into Killian’s side when he reaches her. His hooked arm goes protectively around her as his other arm holds Martha on his hip. Their little girl wraps trembling arms around her papa, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

Killian’s brow furrows as he stares at Neal. “Is this really him? The rat who left you?”

Emma just nods; she can feel Killian’s jaw clench against her temple. Neal’s rage increases tenfold, his face turning red.

“You married him?” he shouts at Emma. “Had his kids?”

“Neal, I want you out of here!” Emma yells right back. “You have no right to an opinion in my life or who I love. So just go!”

“Love?” Neal spits out, clutching his hair with both hands as if he’s about to lose his mind. “You think you love this pirate?”

Killian’s brow furrows as he takes a tentative step forward, shifting so his body shields his little girl. Something about this man, though, haunts him, and he has to know . . . “Do I know you?”

Neal chuckles sardonically. “You don’t even recognize me, do you? Did you think I was still on Neverland? Still just a boy? I grew up, Captain Hook.”

Killian’s eyes widen as he suddenly realizes why this man’s features are so familiar to him. “Baelfire?” he whispers hesitantly.

Neal shakes his head, lips trembling as he fights for composure. “First my mother. Now Emma?” He sniffs, stopping the threat of tears with an inhale of breath, replacing it with rage. “All these years, I never wanted anything to do with my father. But now? Revenge sounds pretty damn good. I know he’ll gladly help me take you down.”

Emma sways slightly, glad for her mother’s support by her side. The pieces all fall into place, almost overwhelming her. Once she regains her equilibrium, she takes a shaking step towards her ex.

“You knew? All along? You were from there?”

Neal blinks, almost as if he’s forgotten about her. “I didn’t know who you were,” he tells her with eerie calm in his voice. “If I had, I never would have gone near you.”

His words are like bullets to her heart, even after all these years. Her mother takes her hand, and her husband draws her near, as if they can sense her old insecurities rising up. She blinks back the tears.

“Get out of here, Neal,” she says, her voice like ice.

“Oh, I’m going,” he tells her, “to find my father and get my son.”

He turns and stomps out of the back door of Granny’s, slamming his palm against the wood as he leaves. Once he’s gone, Emma sags in her husband’s embrace as her mother strokes her hair. The only thing good about seeing him again is that she didn’t have to do it alone.

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

Belle bolts upright in bed, her heart racing at the terrible nightmare that has awakened her. She squeezes her eyes shut, wanting to forget Rumple’s skin turning reptilian again, his voice manic as he spat the word “dearie!” She throws the covers aside, sleep no longer an option.

She gets up and dresses in one of the outfits Rumple had conjured with his magic. Magic. Her hands shake as she remembers that purple cloud billowing from the well and enveloping the town. At the time, she had been so overwhelmed by the return of her memories, so thrilled to be at Rumple’s side again – to see him normal – that all she could do was watch. But now, she wonders. Why does he need it?

All he has said for days now is that he has to protect her, provide for her. But why doesn’t he take her shopping for clothes? Take her to a book store? Show her this enchanted town that she was locked away from for almost thirty years? Instead, he cast a protection spell around the house and told her she had to stay here for her own safety.

Well, she doesn’t care what Rumple says. She’s going stir crazy, and she’s curious about Storybrooke. And after years in Rumple’s castle, then years being imprisoned by Regina, she’s eager to meet people and reunite with old friends. What has become of Mulan? Is she here? Has Phillip awakened his princess? Is Grumpy still pining for that fairy? There’s so much to discover and learn!

But most of all, her heart longs for her father, to find out if he’s okay. What is his life like in this new realm? Could he remember her under the curse? She knows Regina told him she was dead, just as she told Rumple, and the pain and heartache her father must be feeling is more than she can bear.

Belle slips into a pair of wine colored pumps that compliment her argyle skirt and brings out the auburn hues of her hair. One thing she likes about this realm are the clothes for sure. At least Rumple’s magic has guessed her taste perfectly. But shopping in an actual store? She can’t wait!

She tiptoes down the stairs, though she doubts Rumple is on this floor. She had discovered him yesterday in the basement at his spinning wheel again, skeins of golden thread piling up around him. She had tried to talk to him, but he was distant and preoccupied. She knows something is driving him, but getting him to open up has always been an almost impossible task. So while he spins the day away, she will explore.

Belle pulls open the heavy oak door, but when she steps through, a burst of magic hits her square in the chest and sends her stumbling backwards. She gasps and reaches her hand out, but purplish waves bend around her hand, and she can’t push through. She tries the back door in the kitchen, the side door that leads to the car port, the dining room French doors. At every single one, the wall of magic pushes her back. Rage fills her as her fists clench. This is no protection spell! She’s trapped! Fuming, Belle marches down the basement steps. There he is, at his spinning wheel just like yesterday.

“You put up a spell to keep me from leaving?” she yells at him.

He doesn’t even look up from his spinning as he answers. “I told you Belle, it isn’t safe. Do you know how many in this town will want me dead now that they have their memories back?”

“You’re the Dark One! No one can harm you!”

Finally, Rumple stops spinning and finally looks at her. “But they can harm you. You’re my weakness, one my enemies can exploit.”

Belle shakes her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not a weakness or a liability, I’m a woman! The woman you love.” She pauses for a long moment, dread filling her as she gazes into Rumple’s face. “At least, I think you love me.”

Rumple rises then from his stool and comes to her, a gentle smile on his face as he takes both her hands in his. He leans forward and brushes her lips with a chaste kiss.

“I do love you, Belle. That’s why I can’t bear to think of anything happening to you.”

“But don’t you see? I want things to happen! I’ll wither and die if you keep me trapped here!”

“Just trust me, Belle, please!” Rumple pleads, pressing his forehead to hers.

Belle’s eyes flutter shut, her heart warring with her head. “Why do you need it?” she finally whispers.

“Need what?”

She opens her eyes just as she opens his, and she gives him a gentle smile, the one that always seemed to tame the beast in him. “Magic. Do you really need it?”

He releases her then and backs away from her. “Yes. I need it.”

“Why?” she pleads. “We have a new chance here in this new land. We can be happy.”

“I’m the one who did this, Belle,” he tells her, gesturing around him, “this dark curse? I may not have cast it, but I was the architect of all of it in the background. All so I could find my Bae.”

Belle’s expression softens as she takes in his desperation. Aside from her, memories of his son have been the only thing that ever pushes back the darkness within him. “And you can’t find him without magic?”

Rumple begins to pace. “No, it isn’t that. All I have to do to locate him is tor- question that puppet of Geppetto’s. But the town line, that’s the problem.”

“What about the town line?”

“A little experiment of mine revealed a slight problem. Anyone who crosses the town line loses their memories of their real life all over again. So I can’t just go to Bae. The minute I cross the town line, I forget he even exists.”

Belle frowns. “What do you mean by a little experiment?”

Rumple waves his hand dismissively. “Just a dwarf. Not like his life was anything much back home anyway.”

Belle gasps. “You pushed a dwarf over the town line just to see what would happen? And now he doesn’t know who he is?”

“You’re not listening to what’s important here, Belle,” he says to her as he reaches out for her arm.

Belle yanks it away. “No, I think I hear you quite clearly. You’re still selfish and cruel and addicted to your precious magic. Do what you want Rumple, but I won’t be a part of it. Let me out of this house!”

Rumple’s face crumples and he reaches out for her with trembling hands. “No, no, Belle, please. I can’t live without you! Don’t leave!”

Belle used to find such pleas heart breaking. She used to think it meant he wasn’t evil, just hurt and sad and misunderstood. But now, it only seems pathetic at best, manipulative at worst. She reaches out and cups his face in her hands.

“I know I’m powerless here,” she whispers, tears coursing down her cheeks, “you’re the Dark One. If you refuse to let me go, what can I do? But is that what you want? For me to be your prisoner again?”

Rumple hangs his head, turning his face to kiss her palm. “No,” he whispers, “that’s not what I want at all.” He waves his hand in the air. “It is done,” he tells her, “you are free to go.”

He releases Belle’s hands and turns his back on her, shoulders slumped. Belle reaches out and places her palm on his shoulder gently.

“I’m not saying this is goodbye forever,” she tells him softly. “I just need to figure out who I am now. What I want.”

Rumple doesn’t answer her; he simply sits at the spinning wheel once again. By the time Belle reaches the top of the stairs, she can hear it hum as it spins around. Her heart is conflicted as she makes her way back upstairs to back her meager belongings. Leaving isn’t easy, but she knows it’s right.

Her heart hammers in her chest as she makes her way downstairs and to the front door. Much the same way it did all those long years ago when Rumple gave her the freedom to choose whether or not to come back. Would he change his mind? Would fear take over, causing him to cling to her too tightly?

But Rumple doesn’t appear on the first floor, and when she steps out onto the front porch, no spell holds her back. She releases a long breath as she heads down the stairs, then down the front walk. When she gets to the driveway, she starts suddenly. A car is parked there and a man with brown hair leans against it. He startles too when she rounds the bend, and he quickly waves his hand in front of her as if to assure her he means her no harm.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he blurts out.

“Who are you?” she asks hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“My name is . . . “ he hesitates, “I’m here to see my . . .”

It’s as if he doesn’t know how to say what he needs to, but suddenly realization dawns as Belle stares into his face. With a soft gasp, she fills in the blanks for him.

“You’re Baelfire!”

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

Nobody broods like her husband, this Emma Swan knows well. He sings a lullaby to Martha, running his fingers gently through her dark curls as her eyes flutter shut. Emma can hear the melancholy in his voice, however. She can see it in his eyes and the set of his jaw. As he leans to kiss their little girl goodnight, Emma turns from the doorway and back into their bedroom. She fiddles with the sashes of her new bathroom and worries her lower lip. She was so excited to show Killian her last little purchase from her shopping trip today, but now his angst has dampened her enthusiasm, and she’s unsure what to do with herself. Drape herself seductively across the bed? Pretend to be busy with something then straddle him once he’s settled?

Emma decides to go with sauntering up to greet him as he walks wearily through the door. She runs her hands up his chest, undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt as she goes. She looks up at him with a pouty expression, batting her eyes. She almost rolls her eyes in frustration when she sees that his mind is clearly elsewhere.

“You’re so tense, babe,” she coos as she kneads his shoulders, “I can help you relax.”

He meets her gaze then and attempts to give her a smile. “Aye. It’s been quite a day.”

She clasps her hands behind his neck and nudges his jaw with her nose. “There’s one more outfit I bought that you haven’t seen yet.” Just in case he doesn’t catch her meaning, she presses her body flush against his and trails her hands down to trace the contours of his body under his leather pants.

“Really?” He asks her breathlessly, and his smile is a bit more like the one she knows so well. He trails his fingertips down her skin that’s exposed beneath the gap of her bathrobe, and Emma shudders. He then captures his mouth with hers, and Emma groans into his deep kiss. His hand lightly traces the front of her body, and when he reaches the sash of her bathroom, he yanks it loose. He then lifts his hand and hook to her shoulders to push the bathrobe off.

Emma pulls away from his kiss with a smirk, backing away from him so he can get the full effect of her outfit. It’s a red sequined bra with a black sheer fabric hanging from the bottom of it. Her pregnant stomach pokes through, but she’s never felt ashamed of her body around Killian. Simply because he’s never made her feel anything but beautiful.

His eyes are blown wide and darkened with desire as he takes her in head to toe. Emma smirks at him again then turns to pull the bedsheets down, bending over exaggeratedly so he can get an eyeful of her thong from behind. She yelps and lets out a loud laugh as he grabs her from behind and scoops her up in his arms.

“No need to waste so much time on those sheets, love,” he tells her huskily.

He kisses her again as he arranges her gently on the bed (for the baby’s sake, she knows, and she finds his concern adorable). Emma’s getting impatient now and begins shoving his shirt off his shoulders and tugging at the laces on his pants.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she complains against his lips, and he laughs.

They do a lot of that. Laughing. Emma thinks of it often and is so grateful. Neither of them had much reason to laugh for so long, and she loves sharing that kind of playfulness with him. Another person, like her, who missed out on so much of that in childhood.

Their laughter turns to pants and moans as they make love, and Emma’s new “outfit” ends up tossed upon the floor amidst Killian’s shirt and leathers. Then they are sated and sweating in each other’s embrace, spent and relaxed in the best way. Killian turns to her and traces her cheek with his fingers.

“I wasn’t expecting the night to go this way,” he tells her with intensity in his gaze.

Emma’s brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t it?”

He sighs and presses his forehead to hers. “What you learned today . . . my connection with Bae - Neal. It’s . . . “

Emma reaches up and cups his face, soothing the tense lines there with her thumbs. “Hey, listen to me. You’ve held nothing back from me. You told me about Milah and her son. You told me of your regrets. And I have chosen to see the best in you; to love the man who would die for me and our children. You are a hero, remember?”

He opens his eyes to gaze into hers. “But we didn’t know it was Neal.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that’s a little weird. But that’s what I get for marrying a guy who’s over three hundred.”

“Oy!” he protests even as they both laugh. “I’m not a day over two hundred and ninety!”

For some reason, their laughter turns into the contagious kind that just won’t abate. The kind that causes tears to stream from their eyes and their sides to ache. When it subsides, Emma ends up curled against his chest with his arms around her. Killian traces lazy patterns on her upper arm as she cards her fingers through his chest hair. Finally, he voices what neither of them really want to face.

“And now we know Henry’s grandfather is the Dark One.”

#cs ff #captain swan #canon divergence #time travel #soul mates #true loves kiss #magic wardrobe #little Emma #little killian #someone to watch over me #searching wardrobes

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