#(can’t believe i’ve been into this series for 3 years now any only got the chance to make 8/15 art now)

[sekaiijijou]

8/15.

(higher quality version here because tumblr hates me </3)

[theealbatross]

marry me (s.s.)

Plot | The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.

Tags | miscommunication, mentions of murder and poisonings, fluff, implied smut, dangerous idiots in love, fluff, 6k-ish words

A/N: sorry this took so long i went on a vacation! One of the funniest line about Ominis locking the two of them up was written by @/shinzhon in our discord server!

Series Masterlist - the rest of the chapters here

“Seriously Sebastian, how many times has it been this month?”

“It’s not my fault this time, I swear!”

“So, you slipped and somehow ended up in the Restricted Section? Is there some secret passage I hadn’t known about? Care to share to the class?” Ominis pinned him with a look and despite knowing his friend was blind Sebastian still raised his hands in surrender. Ominis sighed, there was no point really. When he had agreed to be friends with the troublesome boy in their first year he had signed up for this. It’s his fault for not seeing the mischievousness in those innocent brown eyes.

“I’m surprised,” Ominis continued as he started the trek back to their common room, the painful small talks he had with the headmaster in order to prevent anything getting sent to Solomon already fading as he got further away from the office. He could only imagine the absolute hell the old man would’ve sent their way if he had heard of his rendezvous in the Restricted Section. “It just isn’t like you.”

Sebastian scoffed, “To be in the Restricted Section? Where have you been the past year?”

“No, you idiot,” he hissed. “It isn’t like you to be caught.”

The falter in Sebastian’s steps had him raising an eyebrow, neck snapping back in accusation. “I’ve been caught once,” Sebastian reminded him quickly of the time Scribner first put the anti-Alohamora charm in the doors of the Restricted Section.

"I'm not finished," He’s hiding something. “It isn’t like you to be caught twice.”

He stopped on his track at the sound of Sebastian’s wince. “Okay, don’t be mad –”

“Oh no.”

“The new fifth-year needed some help to get in the restricted section because – well, I actually can’t tell you, she made me swear – and it’s bigger than the both of us and it was going so well! But Peeves caught just as we were about to –”

“Honestly, Sebastian, enough!”

He didn’t need to hear any of this.

Sebastian was right. Whatever great big mess that new kid was in the middle of was bigger than the both of them. And he has had more than enough on his plate trying to keep his friend out of trouble without the additional presence of another mysterious adrenaline junkie being thrown in the mix – one who was worryingly a magnet for big trouble. It was no wonder Sebastian was transfixed; he was looking at the damn mirror.

“Whatever fascination you have with that girl ends now,” It doesn’t escape him how much he sounded like a father getting in-between two lovers. He would’ve laughed in incredulity at the current situation he had found himself in if he wasn’t so bloody frustrated. “You get in enough trouble on your own, she doesn’t need to be sucking you up in her own problems.”

Sebastian makes a sound that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes, Ominis’ and the blond’s blood vessels nearly pop. He cannot believe this.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that. Honestly, she was brilliant! You should’ve been there; she took to the Disillusionment spell so quick that if we hadn’t let out guard down, we –”

“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, why don’t you marry the damn girl and the both of you leave me out of your tomfooleries!”

That would be ideal, he thinks. In a perfect world, he’s going to lock the two of them in a room and eat the key. There he would have no daily nuisances, won’t have to worry about sneaky Slytherins and the explosion of troubles they bring with them, and won’t need to suffer through Headmaster Black’s presence to get them out of it. A thankless job that brought nothing but headaches.

It was only when he was out of his blissful reverie that he realized his headache had stopped walking behind him seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

No.

“Sebastian … “

The other boy audibly flinched, his breath now irregular, and Ominis will bet all the galleons in the Gaunt’s vault that if he could see his old friend’s face would be as red as a Gryffindor’s arse right now.

He could almost cry, his palms producing embarrassing cold sweats at the absolute worst-case scenario unfolding in front of his unseeing eyes. “Please – I am begging you – not this one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh no, no, no.

Suddenly, the prospect of Sebastian and this troublemaker getting together was not that idyllic. In quick successions, all possible worst-case scenario popped in Ominis head. Sebastian was bad enough, if he had someone who was equally as reckless and rash as him it would be something out of his worst nightmare.

Ominis is a good person. This can’t be happening to him.

“Sebastian, listen to me –”

With only a breeze as his answer Sebastian skipped right past Ominis and up the grand staircase. Ominis could feel the heat of his face. “No time to talk. Got somewhere to be –”

“Sebastian, no!”

Why must it keep happening to him?

Sebastian was pretty sure the house in Feldcroft has not heard Anne’s laughter in a long, long time. Yet, here you were, huddled together with his sister, whispering giggle-worthy stories about him no doubt by the way your gaze kept fluttering back to him, and lifting the dreadful ooze that has monopolized the small space since his sister’s illness.

“Nice girl,” He had nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized his uncle had been sitting on the spare bed hidden by a curtain.

“Y-Yeah,” Merlin’s beard you even got his unpleasant uncle’s favor in such a short time – a miracle worker, truly. “She’s … quite something.”

Talking to him has always been awkward.

Even before Anne had gotten sick, he found it difficult to converse with the man who looked too much but was simultaneously nothing like his gentle, kind father. And maybe it was also the childish insistence that if he had let the man into his heart, he would betray his parents – his father – that he just couldn’t let him in. It would feel too much like replacing him so he just opted in letting Solomon linger at the precipice of his life and the man was more than happy to do so.

After all, if Solomon was nothing like his father, Sebastian was everything that reminded Solomon of his dead brother. And those were holes none of them could fill for each other.

“You know, your mother was the same,” Sebastian’s eyebrows raised, never hearing Solomon talk about her till now. “When she was a 7th year I was just starting in Hogwarts and let me tell you, I had little hope for that brother of mine of ever getting her attention.”

His uncle continued to stare at you like he was seeing a ghost – the good kind – not the kind he sees when he looks at him. “She was brilliant, loved by even the firmest professors. And was always willing to hold out a helping hand, even to lost first years whose ass of a brother left to go fend for himself in the confusing moving stairs of Hogwarts.”

Even Sebastian let out a chuckle at that ridiculous image. Sometimes he forgets that even his old uncle had once been a child. The thought is uncomfortable, especially looking at the man he is now. “I always told him he was out of his mind for courting your mother but did my crazy brother listen? Absolutely not.”

Where was he going with this?

Sebastian returned his eyes back to you.

Brilliant, admirable, courageous you.

With your bright smile that feeds his ego by always shining brighter with him. The recklessness that never fails to infuriate and impress on his last nerves. The kindness you innately had in you that makes him want to wrap you up in the finest silk then lock you up in an impenetrable room so nobody else may ever touch it – so nobody else may have you.

That would be best, he thinks.

“It would seem even that insanity he had passed on to you.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths so all his blood doesn’t go to his face, unable to look at the older man. “It’s not like that,” he cleared his throat, now unable to look at you. “We’re … friends.”

“A good … companionship is built upon friendship,” Sebastian’s head whipped to this uncle as if to say ‘how would you know?’ but his uncle just grunted, shrugging before standing up to busy himself in the kitchen, calling you out to assist and telling Anne to take her medicine.

A good companionship. He knows it’s a bit too early but the thought of it wasn’t as horrifying as he thought it would be. The budding interest he had in his new friend was pushed and shoved into the deepest nook of his brain – he had more pressing things to tend to, one that was more important than discerning why he could recognize the sound of her laughter in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall.

But if he really thinks about it, takes a moment to breathe and considers it … it would be nice. She’s had research interest but with her grades and skill being a renowned curse-breaker or even an auror isn’t out of the question. If he works hard, he knows he’d be able to keep up and support her and Anne – maybe even set up an apartment in the city, they can just visit his sister when they have the chance.

Of course,he will try to encourage her to settle back down in Feldcroft if Anne still lives here but Irondale is quite beautiful too, a good place to practice flying when they have a family, let his children experience a true childhood surrounded by peace and quiet – two kids would be nice. Twins run in the family so maybe he could convince her for another one if their first pair are of the same gender. He would really like a daughter who looks just like --

 “I like her.”

“Bloody hell!” Sebastian jumped when he realized his twin sister was now right in front of him while he was deep in his embarrassing delusions. (When did the members of his family become so sneaky?) She grinned at him as if she knew exactly what had him so distracted. To avoid her piercing stare, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he guided her in the little nook of her bedroom where all the vials full of her medicines were stored.

“I knew you would. ‘s why I brought her here.”

“Oh?” Anne nonchalantly drank a disgusting-looking fluid in one gulp. “So, it wasn’t cause you wanted to monopolize her and get ahead of your competition back at Hogwarts?”

Sebastian gawked, his entire body heating up from the accusation. “What – no, it’s not – I thought she would cheer you up!”

He quickly took a quick peek at the corner, relieved that you were too busy charming his uncle off to hear such absurd allegations against him. He wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of him at all. After all, for how wondrous those visions are, he puts your friendship on a pedestal above anything else.

He thinks he’ll be more than content to be just your friend. Maybe.

“How gracious of you, brother,” Anne smirked, in this light it was almost like the old Anne.

Sebastian smirked at her, masking indifference, “I try.”

He should’ve known. Anne would be the one who might just see through all of him, even the things he likes to keep from his head. Even his most impossible dreams of cozy cottages and soft days.

“Sebastian!” The twins straightened up at your voice, both felt like they had been caught red-handed as you cheerfully rounded the corner. “Oh, was I interrupting –”

“No, not at all!” Anne pushed Sebastian firmly, making him stumble and catch himself just as he was about to crash into you. The proximity forces him to stare as your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He stops breathing.

You’ll look dazzling in white; he thinks.

“Your uncle told me your neighbor had some mint in their garden, said you could help me find it? It would go well with the juice.”

Sebastian’s eyes fell to your lips as you spoke before physically ripping his eyes out to look at your eyes, nodding, as his brain tried to keep up between his imagination and the reality of your face in front of his.  You grinned, already walking towards the door. He lets out a breath, the faint traces of your perfume that he gave you wafting an enchanting trail that kept his gaze on your retreating back.

“Get on with it,” Anne pushed him again and this time he gave her his deadliest glare as he followed after you. “You can’t hide her in Feldcroft forever.”

“Zip it.”

Solomon stood next to Anne as they stared at the two sweethearts in their own worlds as they made an adventure out of the small trip. Anne couldn’t help but giggle when Sebastian tripped because he was too busy looking at you instead of the road.

“Are men always this stubborn and stupid?”

“No,” Solomon grumbled, heart aching fondly when in a blink he could almost see a different mirage of figures that were both familiar and strangers at the same time. “He’s just his father’s son.”

“It’s over.”

Sebastian turned his head, straying his eyes away from the night sky framed by the room’s glass ceiling to look at you.  “It’s over.”

The two of you lay down on the floor of the room of requirement, sneaking away from the graduation party to spend the last moments of your life as a student in Hogwarts together. It wasn’t intentional, you had sneaked out for a proper goodbye to the sentient room and thanked it for everything it had provided for you but, like always, Sebastian had gotten ahold of your sneaking form before you could take two steps away from his side.

Sebastian can see that the inevitability of it all is making you emotional, a Hogwarts-shaped hole already forming in the crevices of your heart. The thought of no longer having this haven to escape the world's cruel realities makes him sigh.

“I’m terrified,” your whispered confession surprised him.

His gallant darling? Scared?

“What for?”

You smiled at him sheepishly. “It feels stupid but … I’m scared of things changing. I feel like that little girl again – 15 years old and alone in this great, big world I was thrust into.” Sebastian noticed a shudder crawl over your body. “And this time I won’t have a cheeky Slytherin lad to show me around.”

Sebastian frowned, unsure if he was more disappointed at you for thinking you would lose him that easily or at himself for not nailing that the two of you were tethered forevermore in that bright head of yours.

Instead, he took your shaking hands that you tried to hide and held on to it tight.

You smiled up at him. “Promise to stay in touch?”

He could almost scoff at such an understatement of a request. Do you know I’m never letting you go?

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he grinned, hoping to charm the rest of your remnant fears away. “I expect weekly letters while I’m away from training.”

You scrunched your nose, which he thinks is just adorable “What? So you can brag to your fellow trainees you have a lovesick lady waiting for you at home?”

He laughed at that, eyes crinkling and heart racing, “Maybe I should keep a photo of you plastered on my wall then, really commit to the part. A pretty face like you on my walls should make me the envy of my entire group.”

Her laugh came out nervous, her grip on his hands tightened. She’s still scared.

If only he had been sorted in Gryffindor maybe then he would’ve been daring enough to say something. To fall to his knees in this room and let his forehead kiss the ground and beg you to stay with him, run away with him, marry him. To let him spend the rest of his lowly life making sure you will never be lonely again.

But the fates were cruel and for all his pretense of confidence, the gods’ honest truth is he is a coward. A coward with no prospects.

If he wants your hand he needs to prepare, to follow the plan he had mapped out since the night he had realized he would very much like to spend the rest of his life with you or die trying. He might not be worth anything for now but he’ll make himself enough.  He just needs to hold on … just two more years – it’s all he asks.

Just two years for him to establish himself, to become someone, to earn the right to ask you. He knows it will be hard, you’ll be engrossed in your own research and won’t be able to see him as he trains to be an auror. And there was always a risk of you meeting someone else but he’s already made Poppy swear to report everything to him while she accompanies you in your travels, a contingency plan for any hurdle that may put a wrench in his plans.

If all of this fails then so be it, but he won’t lose you from a lack of planning or trying.

“Why are you looking at me like that?

He didn’t realize he was staring at you while his thoughts ran wild. The dark of your eyes reflected the ceilings you had charmed with the sky of the Forbidden Forest. The dim hue of the room made you look ethereal, like a forest fairy sent to lead him to a beautiful doom. He’d follow you anywhere.

Is it too soon to tell you I love you?

Is it too late?

“Have I ever told you that you’re the only one I need?” Sebastian suddenly whispered, vulnerable.

It’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to say for now, placating the intensity of his need to be close to you by properly laying on his side and pressing a firm hand on your cheeks as you followed his lead, your own loosely dangling on his waist.

“Don’t you think Ominis will be quite offended by that?” you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on his spine.

He couldn’t help but match your grin, “He’ll live.”

“Sebastian,” your words quiet but he moved his hand at the back of your head to pull you in closer, muffling your following words on his chest. “Promise me nothing will change?”

Sebastian’s hold on you tensed, pressing the gentlest kiss at the top of your head to silence his protests.

No, he wants to scream. Everything has to change.

He’ll change everything for you.

“I promise,” he lies.

He’s no Gryffindor, after all.

[ 5 years later ]

“I almost fucking killed you!”

You rolled your eyes, which was a bad idea considering the curse that malfunctioned in Gringott’s brought upon a gaggle of Inferis along with a mutated one that grew about ten feet tall. Before it could lunge straight at your head, Sebastian – Merlin’s beard, he was still as handsome as the day you had left Hogwarts – pulled you into him before casting a Protego followed by a Confringo, blasting the undead’s arm away.

Still his favorite after all these years.

“What? You become a bigshot Auror and forget my face?!”

With an Incendio, the rest of the Inferis were now weakened enough that Sebastian was able to finish them all in one go (bloody hell!). Giving you time to gather yourself and lash out a heavy burst of ancient magic to take care of the giant Inferi once and for all.

You wobbled from the effort but firm hands and a chest caught you. When you looked up you were greeted by a cantankerous Sebastian covered in dust and dirt.

“As if I could see your face in those ridiculous glasses you’re wearing. Is that a lizard’s eye?”

You pulled on the offending thing, turning and standing on your tiptoes to put it on him, then he could see that it helps with seeing the traps laid out around the vault. “Satisfied your inquiries, Mr. Auror?”

He pushed the glasses to the top of his head, still looking down at you with a suspicious glare. Damn him and damn the entire male race for their inability to stop growing their limbs. “I should have you arrested. Illegally breaking into Gringots? What were you thinking?”

“Please, any curse-breaker you sent this way would’ve been eaten by that curse, I barely got out with my life if not for my ancient magic.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows twitched in the familiar way when he wasn’t particularly fond of you – which usually only happens when you throw yourself in danger … like today. Old habits die hard.

“I –”

“Save it,” he raised a palm. You sucked your lips into a thin line comically – it has been half a decade since you last saw him after all, you’re not entirely quite sure If this Sebastian in front of you would hesitate in throwing his prodigal best friend into the cold stone walls of a ministry ordained prison. “You owe me.”

Before he could, you fired off a blast of ancient magic behind him, crushing the lone Inferi that was bidding its time under a rock. You smirked. “Are we even now?”

“Not even fucking close,” His face was blank, unamused. Sebastian’s patience has never been the longest but this is one of the few times his ire was aimed at you, the novelty of it would make you blush if you weren’t so guilty. “Where have you been?”

This time it was your smile that fell, eyes dropping with it in shame. Straight to it, huh.

“Sebastian … I left a lett –“

“A letter! You call that a letter?!” He guffawed, turning his back on you and started pacing just at the ledge that led to a very, very, long fall to the bottom of Gringotts. Your fingers twitched to reach out for him but you had a feeling he wasn’t particularly interested in getting mothered right now as he spiraled out the words you’re sure he had surely been holding the past years. “My dearest friend, one who fights trolls for practice and is the most wanted woman of all dark wizards in the country disappears without a trace even when I spent an entire year searching for her –”

He looked for you?

“—but oh no! All is well Sebastian, she left you a bloody note!”

You felt like a reprimanded toddler but maybe (just maybe) you deserved it. “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

Something in your words snapped the last of Sebastian’s nerve. The gall of you – to stand here like it was nothing. The days he had spent tracking you, dreading the moment he would be greeted by your corpse.

How dare you leave? How dare you leave him? Of all the people in this world you were the one who was supposed to stay on his side.

‘I’ll be back. I promise. I just need time’

He marched to where you were standing, cupping both of your shoulders so you can look at him. “I will be given an explanation.”

Instead, your eyes fell on his left hand. He followed your line of sight, the gold band around his finger making all your cruelest nightmares come true.

How did it come to this? You scoured your memories of your entire friendship – how had the two of you come from being unable to keep a single secret from each other to strangers that have too many unspoken grievances in between them?

Was this inevitable?

Finally, you gathered your strength. He did deserve the truth from you of all people. And you could truly never keep a secret from Sebastian even now – which is also why you left. The shame, the unjustified anger, the hurt in your chest when you looked at him – you couldn’t handle it.

“I … I heard from Leander.”

His frown deepened. What does Leander have anything to do with this?

“I was going to visit you on the last weekend of your training. Then Leander caught me in town and he said … he said that after you had finished your auror training you were planning to propose, that you were already looking for a ring.”

He is going to kill that orange blabbermouth fuc –

“I couldn’t – surely, you couldn’t be that daft. I … I loved you, Sebastian! And I know I’m your friend and I should’ve been there for you. And I really am – I am happy for you,” you took his hand, your gentle touch shakily running through the gold band around his ring finger as you tried to hold back the tears. It felt like it was mocking you, like it could burn a mark on your skin. “If anyone deserves to build a family it would be you. I just … in that moment I couldn��t be happy for you. I needed to remove myself from the situation and I couldn’t say goodbye – you wouldn’t have let me! I panicked and I was hurt and … I really am sorry. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

As humiliating as it was to say all the hurt that you were carrying with you as you traveled the world to escape your love for him it did make you feel lighter. Were you a coward? Maybe so. But you will not shame your past self for what she did out of hurt and fear. It was painful but necessary.

It wasn’t until Sebastian was cupping your face and wiping your cheeks with his thumb that you realized you had been crying.

“Darling, who did you think the ring was for?”

You blinked, “What?”

You could tell he was trying to lengthen his patience with you, clearly as he was the more emotionally stable one at the moment even though it looked like he was at the precipice of choking you. "Have I ever told you that I was courting anyone?”

The conversation was taking a turn you weren't expecting. “N-No, but Leander and Everett used to keep teasing you about the Ministry girls that was always at your tail so I just assumed …”

He raised his eyebrows, holding onto your cheeks tighter so you had to look at him. For the first time in your entire friendship, you couldn’t read him at all. “I assumed you became interested in one of them.”

He sighed, “No, sweetheart. I did not become interested in any of them.”

You frowned, still feeling the cold ring on your cheek. “Then who did you marry?”

“I’m … not married.” This time it was him who seemed to blush, actually breaking eye contact to chuckle. When he looked back at you it was like you were getting a peek of the boyish Sebastian you once knew. “I would have been if the beautiful witch I had been chasing did not disappear on me right when I was about to propose.”

His words sunk into you like molasses, the wrinkle in between your eyebrows disappearing as your eyes widened in realization. Surely, he doesn’t mean –

“I just wore it since I would’ve been wearing it either way if someone had said yes. And it’s a more effective way to ward off any hopefuls. A little white lie to cover up my bruised heart and spare their egos”

“Wait, wait –“you tried to push him away but one of his arms just wrapped around your back, pushing your chest to his. He wasn’t going to let you get away this time, if he has to cast a binding spell on you without your knowledge then so be it.

The past five years had been torture enough.

“I guess it’s what I deserved. Letting the love of my life wait around just because my pride wanted me to earn the right to ask for her hand. The Hero of Hogwarts, the brightest witch of our age – surely, I couldn’t just ask her, could I?”

The abundance of information threatened to drown your head in. Pieces of the grand puzzle that never seemed to fit right clicking and clacking in your head as you slowly pieced together the blanks in the history of your relationship because you didn’t bother to ask and he didn’t bother to say anything.

He means you right? He was going to propose to you? The bloody ring you’ve been having nightmares about was for you?!

But he had never … I mean sure you flirted here and there but it was nothing … official. No words were ever shared, no announcements, nor formality.

It was all very … murky and ambiguous.

“Hey, back to me, darling,” he gently pressed his thumb that was still holding on to your cheek. “I swear even when we’re together it’s like you’re still running away.” As if suddenly lost in thought himself he murmured, “Should I charm a chain on you, after all?”

You blinked and the dark glint in his eyes that you had only seen in his darkest moments in your fifth year disappeared, now replaced with a small cheeky smile.

“Sebastian, the ring was it – surely it wasn’t –”

“For you?” He was so close now that you could count all the freckles in his face, his lips running through your cheeks, even pressing a kiss on your temple. “Then riddle me this, my love – if not for you then who else would it be for? Hmm? Who else would I be begging to be my wife if not my most treasured friend? The one person who stood beside me through it all?”

Another kiss on your cheeks. “The only light in my life?”

The underside of your jaw. “The beautiful witch who had rudely stolen my heart when we were children then had the nerve to run away with it just as I was able to gather all the courage I had to ask for hers in return?”

He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling and pulling and pulling as if he wanted to meld the two of you together. “Who else but you? There was and would’ve been nobody else but you.”

A shadow of a kiss at the edge of your lips. “You’re the only woman I have ever loved.”

Your heart threatens to explode.

“And you’re the only one I will ever love,” he whispered, but the quiet of the caves of Gringotts made his voice echo inside your overheating skull.

You had been aware of Sebastian’s charms when you were younger but now that he was using his pretty face and raspy voice at its full extent while professing his love for you in the murky caves of Gringotts and pieces of Inferi corpses scattered on the ground – you could almost feel your brain malfunctioning.

“I had resigned myself to a life of isolation if you had never come back,” he declared. “But you did. Why?”

He was not going to accept anything less than the truth. The intensity behind his eyes, the grip he has around you was so firm you were almost hanging off the ground. The unbearable weight of your guilt for almost driving this man to insanity even if it had not been your intention had you letting go of your defenses.

“Because I missed you,” you admitted, eyes looking straight at him to finally bare your soul. “And I couldn’t find anything the world could offer that could compare to you. Even if we just remained friends I –”

His chuckle cut you off.

“We could never just be friends,” he whispered, you couldn’t agree more. “We were never just friends. Darling, I’m not a religious man but if soulmates are real then yours and mine have always been tied to each other. And if whatever god is up there was cruel enough not to have done that then I would’ve knotted it myself.”

You giggle through your tears – you had played out so many fantasies of Sebastian’s confessions and yet now that you were living your wildest dreams it felt like your heart was trying to escape your chest.

“If you hadn’t come back, it would’ve done nothing short of killing me, you have to know that,” a ragged breath escapes him as if the mere memory of your escape were enough to cause him physical pain. “Because I love you and I have always loved you even back when I didn’t know what love is. Even when love was a mere flutter in my chest every time I looked at you. Even when I was a fool in a path to destruction I … I have always, always loved you.”

You nodded, almost gasping at the intensity of his words. “I love you too, Sebastian. So much. I would’ve always come back. I couldn’t – I would’ve honestly poisoned your wife if you had married another.”

A laugh exploded out of his mouth at your sudden proclamation, echoing through the eerie corners of the caves. “And I had more than enough daydreams of torturing any lovers you might’ve taken in your travels.” The sickly-sweet tone that contrasted such horrid words had you giggling.

“Think we should stick to each other then?” You roped an arm around his neck, letting him carry your dead weight. “Spare some poor suckers from poisons and murders.”

He grinned, leaning in closer and closer, “You always had been the one with bright ideas.”

You smiled just as he finally pressed his lips into yours. Even your wildest dream couldn’t compare to this. Sebastian’s greedy grip on your waist, his familiar scent, his taste – him. It wasn’t perfect – a bit too rough, too needy yet somehow never enough – it was better, a perfect amalgamation of your entire relationship.

“Marry me,” he commanded in between kisses, too desperate to separate from you for more than a second. “Tell me you’ll have me.”

“You’re mine,” You gasp when he suddenly turned you around and pressed you on the jagged wall of the cave. “Always been mine.”

You’ve never not been mine.

Suddenly, Sebastian ended your kisses, a whine slipping out of your throat which he placated with a quick peck before he haphazardly pulled a necklace of some kind around his neck, snapping it to let the pendant fall into his palms.

Only it wasn’t a pendant. It was a ring. The ring.

“Oh my, Sebastian,” your vision blurs with tears as he gently takes your shaking hand, slipping the beautiful jewelry on your ring finger where it shall sit forever. “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to marry you.”

He groaned, pressing his forehead to your temple as you continued to admire the ring on your finger.

“You keep buttering me up like this and I’ll have to kidnap the first priest I see when we get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t object to that, we’ve never been one for propriety.”

“I can’t believe we had our first kiss in Gringott’s of all places,” he muttered, the vibration of his voice tickling your chest as he buries his face in it.

“That wasn’t my first kiss.”

That had his head snapping, eyes murderous at your words. "What?”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

“Huh.”

You nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact as he tries to scour through his memories.

“Remember our fight in the Room of Requirement? About the Triwizards game?”

He winced. “I’d rather not remember that.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

You settled back, knowing him well enough to know his mind was rapidly working through his memories to figure out the cryptic declaration you had confessed.

It had been frustrating when you had remembered such important event days after it happened. All it had taken was a faint whiff of Sebastian’s shampoo in your pillow in the room of requirement before you were shooting up in your bed at the memories trickling in your brain as you tried to figure out if it had been one of your more apparent daydreams only to scream when you had realized it had happened and the two of you completely forgot about it.

You had become wary of Sebastian then, staring and studying his face at any hint that he also had the luck of remembering such bold confessions from you. You aren’t sure if you were more relieved or disappointed when he showed no inkling of gaining the curse of such knowledge like you.

But at your sudden engagement to him, you believe you have suffered enough of such vexations alone. You are to be married after all which means the two of you shall share every burden from now on -- even the most embarrassing and frustrating ones.

Sebastian’s muscles locked, pushing himself up to cage you in bed as his frantic eyes widened.

You grin. He remembers.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes way.”

He slumps back down in your chest, groaning. “Are you sure you're okay with marrying a bloody idiot?”

Your body shakes with laughter. “Lucky for you, idiots are just my type.”

[dannys-dream]

Invisible String - Jake Kiszka x f! Reader - Chaper One - Series

You’re just a small town girl who always had big dreams of living in Nashville. You hoped your music would get you out of your hometown, and your dreams were finally coming true. You knew you had your best friend, your music, and a new guitar to take you through the new life ahead of you. What you didn’t know was what and who this new adventure would bring you. Used to beach town life, could you adjust to the big city and the big names attached to it? 

Warnings : None this chapter :)

Authors Note : This is something I’ve had in the works for a little while now. I hope you enjoy this series. Please let me know if you have any suggestions, or if you’d like to be added to a tag list! <3

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You couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After years of coffee shop shows, bar performances, and the occasional birthday party or wedding, you were finally moving to Nashville. A dream since you were just a kid, stuck in a small beach town tucked away in the outskirts of Washington. You’d saved every penny from your gigs, giving guitar lessons to the neighborhood kids, and everything you could spare from your 9-5 paychecks. You checked your bank account religiously, waiting for the day you’d finally saved enough. All you needed was a few months rent, and the money to put gas in the U-Haul, yours and Cam’s home for the 36 hour drive. 

Cam had been your best friend since middle school. An absolute force to be reckoned with at your dodgy little public schools. You trusted her with your life, and believe me when I say there were plenty of times you’d gotten in enough trouble to prove you could. The day you told her you’d started saving to move, she started saving too. She told you that you'd have a piece of home with you down in the south, and she couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing you all the time. You thanked God every day since. You couldn’t imagine not living side by side with her either. So the two of you packed everything you owned into a little U-Haul, and drove away from the only place you’d ever known. Away from your families and friends who all waved and cheered you on as you pulled out of the driveway. 

“I can’t stop laughing, oh my god y/n. I can’t breathe. Why were they waving us off like it’s the ancient times and we’re setting sail on the Titanic or something?” She was cackling in the passenger seat, resting one hand on her stomach as she fanned herself with the other.

“Camille, be nice. They just love us.” A chuckle leaving your mouth as you merge onto the highway. You slide your phone to Cam across the bench seat and tell her your passcode. “Put our playlist on. I’m not driving all day without music, you freak.” You roll the windows down and step on the gas as Journey begins to spill from the speakers. 

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Day three of driving, your last day. The two of you had fought about pretty much everything, music, who was driving, what hotel or motel you’d sleep in, what was for lunch or dinner. There were good times too, though. Sightseeing, weird rest stops, having to pull over on the highway so Cam could pee because she absolutely couldn’t hold it in until the next bathroom (something you’d be sure to tease her about for the rest of your lives). None of that seemed to matter when the U-Haul was finally parked in your new driveway. A small 2 bedroom brick home stared back at you as you started unloading your things, the emerald green door waiting for your keys. 

“Hey C, I think we should unpack everything and then I can go return the U-Haul. I wanna get it over with sooner rather than later.” Yelling across the lawn, she agreed. You quickly passed boxes to her, not that there were too many in the truck. Finally empty, you and Camille headed inside to start unpacking boxes. You got your room set up enough to sleep in tonight, and told Cam you were headed out to return the U-Haul. You pulled out of the driveway, your favorite song playing as you turned out of the neighborhood, that is until your phone started ringing. Oh great, it’s your mother. 

“Hi momma, we just got to the house! We’re finally home.” Your mother was so excited for you to get out of Washington, even if it meant being almost across the country from her. 

“Hi baby! I’m so glad you girls made it safe. I just wanted to call because I have a gift for you.” Your mom couldn’t help but let out a choked sob. “You worked so hard to get out there, you saved so much money. Your dad and I wanted to get you something special.” 

“Mom, you’ve got me worried. Why’re you crying?” 

“Nothing wrong, y/n. We saved up some money for you to get a new guitar. A special one for your new life, in your new town. I just transferred you the money, my love.” 

“We’ve never been more proud to be your parents.” Your dad chimed in, the pride and sadness of your move evident in his voice.

Tears streamed down your face as you thanked them, and promised to send pictures when you picked out your new guitar. You wrapped up the phone call, thanking her once more, right as you pulled into the U-Haul parking lot. You paid for your rental, and called an Uber, deciding to have it take you to a small local guitar shop. Ramblr’s Music. Repairs, sales, lessons. On top of getting a new guitar, who knows. Maybe you could score a job there. 

A silver Honda pulled up next to you, and confirmed they were your Uber. As you slid into the backseat, you heard the music. A major guitar solo was playing, and it was stunning . Leaning forward and squinting your eyes you could see what it was. Greta Van Fleet. You made a mental note to check them out later, and made small talk with the Uber driver until you found yourself walking up to the little music shop. You’d barely been in Nashville five hours, and your life would already never be the same.

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You’d been perusing the guitars for over an hour, but none of them felt right. You knew they were fine instruments, they just weren’t your dream guitar. They weren’t a vintage Les Paul SG. You’d wanted one for years, since you’d taken your music seriously. The shape, the sound. Something so classic and beautiful that the modern re-releases just couldn’t quite compare to. Fully knowing it was out of your budget, you decided to ask someone anyway. You found yourself walking toward the desk, a short kid maybe 17 standing there on his phone. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking around and I don’t see what I was hoping to find. Do you maybe have any Les Paul SG’s?  Maybe one in the back, or do you know where I could find one? I’m new in town and don’t really know where to look.” You let out a small laugh, immediately feeling out of your element. 

“Actually, yeah. We’ve got one in the back that I guess has been on hold or something but it’s been weeks and the guy never came to get it. It’s in a case and everything, too. Let me go get it.” Popping his gum as he walked away, your heart was pounding. Were you actually about to buy your dream guitar? Something about Nashville was proving to be magical. 

He came back, a busted black leather hard case in hand. “Here, look it over. I think it's a ‘61 but I could be wrong. Just started working here last week.” The clasps clanked as you pulled them up and off, finally lifting the lid to the case. There she was. A beautiful cherry stain on the wood, new strings and a crack down the bottom half of the guitar, only adding personality and proof the instrument was well loved prior to you.  You carried the guitar over to an amp, plugging it in and sitting on the stool. You wrestled to figure out what song to play, finally deciding on one of the songs you’d put time into learning. Nothing Else Matters, your fathers favorite Metallica song. You’d spent hours learning to play it for him, and could remember the tears in his eyes when you finally showed him. A fond memory you now shared with your dream guitar. God, it played like perfection. You knew there was no way you’d walk out of this store without the cherry red beast. 

You walked back to the counter and safely secured the guitar into the case after taking a photo. The new kid checked you out, enabling a purchase you probably shouldn’t have made. You ordered an Uber, and slipped into the backseat with your new baby. 

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Jakes POV

Tour had been beyond exhausting. You loved playing, you loved the fans, you loved seeing the different states and countries. The only thing you loved more? Being at home, in bed with some popcorn and whiskey, watching a documentary on pirates. Especially on a fine Wednesday night such as this. Finally rolling out of bed for the first time in hours, your slippers pull you down the stairs and into the kitchen in search of food more filling than the snacks upstairs. Regrettably, you hadn’t gone grocery shopping in some time, simply surviving on what was left in your pantry before you left on tour. A groan leaves your chest as you trudge back upstairs. Slipping on your favorite blue jeans and a button up, you find your car keys and make your way to the jeep sitting in your garage. You decided that while you were out, you might as well run the rest of the errands you’d been neglecting in lieu of alone time. 

Your favorite playlist queued, and sunglasses pressed to your face, you pulled out of the garage and headed off to Ramblr’s. Your beloved guitar had taken far too much of a beating this last leg, and a crack appeared down the body. You had held her together for the last few shows using some electrical tape, the best thing you could get your hands on while on the road. On the way home from the airport, you dropped your guitar off to be repaired, only trusting Scott, the store owner, to repair your precious cargo. You rolled your car windows up, and hit your vape one last time before getting out and heading to the building. The second the shop doors opened, an uneasy feeling washed over you as the sounds of Scott screaming at some teenager filled your ears. 

“Are you fucking stupid, or are you dumb Jeremy? No, you know what you are? Fucking fired. Get out of my shop!” Scott pushed over a small display of guitar straps and stomped off, leaving who you assumed was Jeremy in a crumpled sobbing mess on the floor. You walked over to him, and crouched down. 

“Hey, Jeremy. Whatever’s going on, it’ll be okay. I’m Jake, and I’ve known Scott a real long time. I’m sure he’s just having a rough day. Let me go talk to him.” 

Jeremy looked back at you in horror, and pushed himself away. “I’m so sorry sir. I’m so sorry.” He picked himself off of the floor, and bolted outside, not even bothering to collect his personal items or clock off. You weren’t sure what happened, but you knew it couldn’t be good. 

You made your way to the back, where Scott’s office was and tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for whatever shit storm he was about to drop on you. You cleared your throat, and Scott’s eyes shot up to meet yours. His appearance disheveled, and tears of frustration threatened to fall down his face. 

“Ah, shit. Hey kid. Come in, have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from his desk. You shuffled over, and pulled the chair out before sinking into the plush cushion. He avoided eye contact with you, which was very unusual. You also noted him picking at his nails, something he did when stressed. 

After a few minutes of silence, you decided to bite the bullet. “Give it to me straight, Scotty. What the hell is going on?” 

His head dropped in shame, and he took a deep breath before shakily answering you. “Jake, that stupid new kid. He sold your guitar.”

Your blood ran cold, and suddenly all you saw was red. “Scott you’re fucking joking, right? Don’t fuck with me. Bring me my guitar.” 

He shoved the paperwork towards you, all of it showing the colossal fuckup Jeremy had made. “I wish it was a joke, Jake. But the kid sold her off to some girl who came in a few hours ago. I don't even know how he screwed this up so bad.”

You ran a hand through your hair, and sighed. “Make me a copy of this. I’m gonna go find her.”

”I already tried the number Jake. She wont pick up.”

You stood from the chair and looked down at him. “Scott, just make me a damn copy.”

He left the room, and came back with the papers for you and continued to apologize profusely as you walked out of the store. The rain soaked your clothes as you walked to the car, your breath visible in the cold weather. 

The paperwork told you basically nothing. Just her name, and an out of state phone number. The kid didn’t even fully fill out the sale paperwork, leaving the address and email slots bare. You got in the car, phone number in hand and hoped and prayed that she hadn’t left town. That guitar was your prized possession, the best gift you’d ever received. You’d been beyond floored when the Chicago Music Exchange let you have it, free of charge. And now, you had no idea where she was. 

You took a shaky breath, and dialed the number. It didn’t even ring. You’d immediately been sent to voicemail, and the default one at that. You brought your hands to your face, and rubbed your eyes. How could Scott let this happen?

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End of first chapter <3

TAGLIST : @hollyco @literal-dead-leaf @anythingforjtk @do-it-jakey-baby

[mirisss]

Chapter 10

Stray Kids OT8 x hybrid! afab! reader

Warnings: Crying, mentions of some members acting violent (in response to (Y/n)’s past), mentions of scars, some anxiety, eating/food, sleep problems, I think that’s it, let me know if I’ve missed anything. 

Wordcount ≈ 2.2k

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I can’t believe I’ve been working on this series for two years, it’s crazy, I didn’t think it would take this long but I am so happy to see so many people enjoying my story. I just want to say thank you for all the support, but don’t worry, this is not the end of the story, we still have a long way to go! 

Please reblog! 

Taglist: @ayoo-bangtan, @lose-lose07, @kingcarrot-thecarrotking, @starjane312, @reighlee-greaves, @hi-39024, @queenmea604, @septicrebel, @justayoungandwisefangirl, @imasimplol, @k-p0p-4ever, @detectivedoodle, @hehe-24-hehe, @jinnie-ret, @0325tiny, @borahae-reads, @shycreationdreamland, @kiaralynn3838, @blondechannie, @theydy-madamonsieur, @boi-bi-ahaha, @riri321, @3rachasninja, @kkamismom12, Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 11,

(Y/n) closed her eyes, fully trusting Jeongin, just as she would with any of the eight boys she now called her home. Jeonging couldn’t help but smile as he too closed his eyes. 

(Y/n)’s POV

I closed my eyes and leaned in, I wasn’t too sure what to do, but that didn’t matter. I knew I wanted this and I felt safe. Soon I felt Jeongin’s soft lips, gently press against mine. An electric feeling spread through my body. It washed away any anxiety that I felt, leaving me with only curiosity and love. Jeongin gently ran a hand through my hair as he put just a little more pressure into the kiss, I tried responding by leaning my head a little to the side, something I had seen in a movie. I felt Jeongin smiling into the kiss, it made me relax even more. His scent was intense yet calming, so much contact with his warm skin, the feeling of his hand gently running through my hair, soothing me. I never wanted this moment to end. All too soon, he broke the kiss by leaning back. A bright smile and sparkling eyes greeted my gaze as I opened my eyes. 

“Wow, your lips are so soft,” He whispered, but I heard him loud as day. “It was nice,” I whispered back. He kissed me on my forehead before he stood up, giving me a hand to help me stand as well. “You should get in the water before it gets cold, I’ll head out to the others, and we’ll see each other soon again, okay?” “Yeah, that sounds okay,” “Just call for me or anyone if you need us,” “Thank you,” Jeongin left me alone as I undressed and got into the warm water. The bath salt scent was strong, it felt like being embraced by the ocean and a summer breeze. I relaxed in the water, breathing calmly as I felt better after sharing some of my past with Hyunjin. I knew he was telling the others about what I told him, it weirdly felt nice to know that I didn’t have to share it on my own, telling it once was hard enough. 

Third Person POV

Once Jeongin came back to the living room, Hyunjin began telling him, Minho, and Felix about (Y/n)’s past, or the part she had shared with him. Felix began crying at the thought of the sweet bunny being put through such trauma. Minho felt angry, he wanted to find the people who hurt (Y/n) and make sure they couldn’t do it again, once he calmed down a little, he felt almost a little happy, happy that he found her and took her home. Here she would be able to live happily, in a home filled with love. With their family. Jeongin understood why (Y/n) had asked him to stay, not wanting to be alone, he wanted to run back to the bathroom and hold her, telling her she would never be alone again. 

“We’re going to have to tell the others too, do you think you’re up for it, Jinnie?” Minho asked, concerned that it would be too much for the younger. “I think I can do it as long as I’m not alone,” “We’ll be here with you, someone will have to hold back Chan-hyung and Binnie, they’re going to go berserk when they find out,” Minho said, half-joking as an attempt to make Felix laugh instead of cry, though he knew that it was true. Bang Chan and Changbin would not take this well, if Minho thought he felt angry it wasn’t anything compared to those two. 

“Hey, you okay, Lixie?” Hyunjin asked as he moved closer to the crying boy. “Yeah, I just hate thinking of our sweet bunny being in so much pain and being alone. I hate feeling lonely, it’s the worst feeling,” “She’s not alone anymore, she has us. You have us, we have each other. We have all felt lonely but we’re together now so we don’t have to be alone anymore,” Jeongin said, it resembled his talk with (Y/n). Stray Kids was quite a fitting name, all of them having been astray, lonely, and isolated, but now they have one another and together they chase away the hurt and pain of their past. In each other they found a family, they found love, and most of all, they found a home. 

(Y/n) emerged from the bathroom a little while later, Felix and Hyunjin were gaming, Minho was in the kitchen preparing some food, and Jeongin sat on the couch, scrolling through instagram. “Hey,” the hybrid said lowly, Jeongin looked up with a smile. “Hey, feel better now?” “A little, the bath salt was nice,” “What do you want to do now?” “I think I’ll go help Minho out, and get a snack,” Jeongin just smiled and gave her a thumbs up. His eyes scrunched together, making him look so cute, and (Y/n) couldn’t help but smile too. (Y/n) walked over to the kitchen, hearing Minho curse lowly just before she walked in. Finding him glaring angrily at a pot on the stove. “Hey,” (Y/n) had during her time with the boys heard them joking about Minho being scary but she didn’t see it, to her he was someone with a soul so kind that it could not know any hate. He was gentle and sweet, (Y/n) was never cautious around him, perhaps it was because he was the one who found her, the first human who ever cared about her. 

“Oh, hey (Y/n), are you hungry?” “A little, but I also want to help you, with whatever you’re doing,” “Can you help me glare at the pot for ruining the food I was making?” The two chuckled at how Minho blamed an inanimate object for messing up the recipe and not himself. Minho reveled in how comfortable the hybrid was around him, his heart feeling just a little lighter to see her smiling and cheerful after everything. “What did the pot do?” “It burnt the food, so I have to start over,” “I’ll help you,” “Okay, well, just stir this and I’ll make a sandwich for you, okay?” “Yes!” And so the two made some food, this time without burning it. Shortly after they finished with the food, the other guys came home. Happy to find the table set for dinner as they were all starving. The nine of them sat down and ate, Chan and the others telling everyone about the information they received during the meeting and whatnot. 

After dinner, (Y/n) and Felix volunteered to take care of the dishes, so that Hyunjin could tell the others about his and (Y/n)’s conversation. Minho and Jeongin sat down beside the tall dancer, ready to help him explain anything in case he found it too hard to say for a third time. Minho had been correct in thinking that Chan and Changbin would be angry, but he had never thought that Seungmin and Han would react just as strongly in anger toward the hybrid’s past. “Do we have their names? Or anything? We could contact the authorities if we did, even if it is in the past, what they have done isn’t allowed,” Chan said, looking at Hyunjin, hopeful that they had more information on these people. Hyunjin shook his head, “She didn’t tell me any names so if she knows, she didn’t share them with me,” Changbin clenched his jaw and his hands, anger flowing through his body, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “She seemed quite cheerful now though,” “Yeah, she took a bath and just spent some time with us, grounding herself in the safety of our home,” Jeongin answered. 

“Do you think we should buy some scar treatment lotions? Or something to treat her scars, they may be old but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to treat them,” Seungmin said, imagining how uncomfortable it must be for her, he also wondered if maybe (Y/n) was ashamed of her scars. “I’m not sure, we’ll have to look into it and maybe bring her to the vet for a check-up, just to see what the vet will say,” Chan answered. “Honestly, I don’t know if she’s ready to see a vet or a doctor, you see how she is around other people, to have someone come so close and touch her, I’m not sure it’s a good idea, not yet,” Minho said, the others agreed with him after hearing his argument. 

“There’s one more thing, or actually two, that happened earlier,” Hyunjin said, everyone directed their attention to him once more, worried about what he would say. “(Y/n) had a panic attack in the elevator, which caused this whole ordeal, and when we got out of the elevator she kind of collapsed on the floor, and when I tried to calm her down, she kind of kissed me,” Everyone except Jeongin was surprised when Hyunjin told them about the kiss, after all, (Y/n) had told him so he already knew. “What? She kissed you, ahh, I’m so jealous,” Han said loudly, whining at the thought. “She kissed me too, or well, rather she asked me to kiss her before she took her bath,” Jeongin said. 

Just then, (Y/n) and Felix came back out from the kitchen, just in time for Felix to hear Jeongin tell the others about their kiss. (Y/n) shyly looked at Felix as he looked down at the bunny in surprise, he gave her a smile before he continued walking. “I’m sorry,” “Why are you apologizing, (Y/n)?” Han questioned. “Because I kissed them, and not all of you,” “Hey, no pressure. You need to take everything at your own pace, we can wait. There is no reason to rush into something,” Seungmin answered, his honey-sweet voice made a warm sensation spread through (Y/n)’s body. “Are you sure?” “Of course, we are, bunny,” Chan said, standing up and walking over to her, he opened his arms, inviting her into a hug, and (Y/n) gladly accepted it. 

For the remainder of the night, everyone did some different things, some were gaming, others like Hyunjin and (Y/n) were painting, some had gone to bed, and some (*cough* 3racha *cough*) were still working. Soon it was time for everyone to try and get some sleep. (Y/n) got ready and changed into cozy pajamas, then she followed Changbin to his room as she would spend the night there. She got into her bed, enjoying the soft feeling of it. Changbin whispered good night as he lay down in his own bed. 

(Y/n) tossed and turned in her bed as the comfort escaped her all too soon. Her body was on full alert, not allowing her to fall asleep. She tried to think of how soft her pajamas were, or how warm the blanket was, yet it didn’t work. (Y/n) then tried to think of the boys, how warm they are, how nice and kind they have been to her. How much she loves them and how much they love her, but not even this could help her relax. After 2 hours of frustration, she sat up, contemplating going to the kitchen and getting a snack. The hybrid was a bit startled to find Changbin sitting up only a second after her, her hybrid senses allowing her to see even in the dark, (Y/n) could clearly see his eyes being open, he was awake. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked in a raspy voice, indicating that he had woken up from his sleep. “Mm,” Was all (Y/n) could answer. “Come here,” The rapper said as he lifted the covers on his bed, inviting her into his bed. While the thought scared her a little, she couldn’t decline the invite as the idea of falling asleep in his safe embrace just seemed too good. (Y/n) stood up and walked over to the bed, lying down beside (Y/n). Changbin gently put his arms around her, guiding her to rest her head on his chest, (Y/n) inhaled his scent, calming her body. (Y/n) focused on the steady beats of his heart and his calm breathing. Changbin fell back asleep almost instantly, (Y/n) stayed awake for a couple of minutes but eventually, thanks to the warmth and the safety of his strong embrace, the dream world welcomed her as she fell into a deep slumber. 

[askinkiskarma]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝟙 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀: 𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕐𝕖𝕤 𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕠𝕗 ℕ𝕠

pairing: Neteyam x f!Human/Avatar Reader

warnings: angst, tragic love trope, the one that got away trope, some fluff, all the feels

wc: 5k words

a/n: surprise??? today's actually the 3 months anniversary of cruel summer being finished, so i thought, what better occasion to drop the sequel than this?? i hope you enjoy besties, i'm so happy to write for neteyam and vol again, they own my whole heart now and always. i'm not sure if people who were tagged in cruel summer want to be tagged for this, so i'm only tagging the people that specifically asked for this series x

to clarify: this series will be following oceans and engines mostly, but both endings will make and appearance and play a part in this story x smooches x

♥ series masterlist ♥ cruel summer ♥ series playlist ♥ masterlist

“I can’t believe you’re mine. And I’m yours, Vol. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours. I’ll always be yours.” 

I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit Been saying "yes" instead of "no" I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though

“Is everyone ready?” Neteyam was violently pulled out of a memory that he couldn’t shake, that still haunts him every night, watching as his father fretted in their once-shared marui, that he hasn’t spent that much time in recently. He sighed as he looked outside and saw his beautiful ikran that he has neglected in the past year, that was now waiting dutifully for him to bond with her so they can leave, that was another bitter reminder of a life so far removed, it didn’t feel like his own anymore.

He missed Seze, and the feeling of freedom that was so exhilarating, it felt almost wrong for a mere mortal to be able to feel, the feeling that only came with flying far away from the ground, from his problems and worries, from his responsibilities and all the sacrifices they entitled. He tried to ignore how his heart was in his throat, and the layer of sweat that accompanied the anxiety that has settled in his chest weeks ago, as soon as his father announced that they were to temporarily return to the forest, to be there for a special number of ceremonies. Norm and Max let him know that, after a few months of rigorous training, the both of them, as well as Spider... and you... were ready to take your Iknimaya and Uniltaron and become part of the Omaticaya.

It hurt, just like everything about it did, how life moved on despite it all, that it went on and on, and everything changed. It hurt that there he was, having to go back, back to everything he left behind… to everyone he left behind, to witness the life he could have had, a life that felt like a fever dream sometimes, especially now, with the pregnant mate he just kissed goodbye a few hours ago.

Neteyam’s stopped himself thinking about you for so long, it’s become second nature, to push the intrusive thoughts aside, to rummage through his increasingly deteriorating will in order to not allow his mind to bring the images of you in the front of his eyes like a movie on a screen, showing him every moment you shared, culminating in that last day, that still managed to somehow knock the breath out of him and make him dizzy and disoriented. Your touch still lingered on his skin, marking it like the tattoos that now adorned his arm and thighs, except the memory of you and your fingers tracing the freckles on his skin hurt more than any tattoo ever could. Neteyam excelled at everything he did, and so he never thought about you. Except today, when you were all he could think about, when the thought that he would be there to witness your Iknimaya, your consciousness transfer, when the talk he had with Kiri was the catalyst for it and was now ringing in his head, like unceasing echoes. 

“Do you think they’ve moved on?” Kiri, much like her brother, shared so much with a human, so much more than could ever be said out loud or expressed into words, only to have it taken from her as she moved to Awa’atlu. Unlike Neteyam, though, Kiri wasn't willing to throw in the towel just yet, stubborn as she always was, especially now that the person she loved got an Avatar, now that he was working towards becoming Omaticaya, now that there seems like a second chance was bestowed on them by the grace of Eywa herself. Neteyam has always admired Kiri, and her joie-de-vivre, her ability to always speak her mind and do whatever she felt was right without infringing on their parents' rules, but also without sacrificing her own happiness, and her overall ability to thread the middle line between her two brothers, which were the two extremes of the same spectrum.

“Do I think who has moved on?” Neteyam knew very well who Kiri was referring to, but half-hoped if he acted oblivious she would just drop it. He should know his sister better than that.

“Stop. You know very well who.”

A sigh so deep it felt like it was exhaled from the pits of Neteyam’s soul escaped him, and he had to think about his answer, something he didn’t want to have to do. 

“I don’t know. I hope she did.” I hope she didn’t. 

“Do you?” 

“…No.” 

“Doesn’t it kill you? Knowing they have Avatars now? Because it kills me. it kills me to know I could have had all this time with him, if only I just waited, or fought harder. If only I tried a little more. If only I just went to mum and dad and just told them the truth. But maybe this means something, the timing. Maybe it means we had to leave and learn and see the world, to know that no matter what, for us, it will always be them. For me, it will always be him. Maybe this was the second chance at love I never even knew I could ever have.” 

The news of your new Avatars reached Awa’atlu months ago, while Neteyam was having dinner with his now extended family, including his father and mother in law, as well as his mate, and for the first time since the night after you left, Neteyam needed to excuse himself and leave, taking his ikran and flying away, flying for hours, coming so close to just leaving it all behind, just so he could at least catch one glimpse of you again, just so he could hug you and tell you how happy he is for you, how much he hopes this Avatar can finally give you the life you’ve always wanted, the life you were always meant for, so he could watch the tears gather in your eyes and drop down your face and know that that very image would be enough to confess harsher truths that he should never think to say out loud again, like how he’s still in love with you and always will be, how nobody would ever be able to replace you, how he wishes every day things would be different. 

In those months passed, Neteyam learnt to accept that much like he’s come to know in his life, and especially after you, some things just are not meant to be. That no matter how much love there is, how much desire to make it work, some things are beyond control, beyond any fight he still had in him. He believed in Eywa, and trusted her judgement and her will, and Eywa chose this for him. And he was happy, as happy as he could be, with his current life, with a mate that was strong, and intelligent, and kind and sweet, and incredibly beautiful, and the little baby that she was currently carrying in her womb, the little baby that would make Neteyam the happiest man in the world once they were born. Some things just weren’t meant to be. And your life together, the one you’ve left behind, the one he’s left behind, was one of those things. 

“Stop. I have a life now, Kiri. A different life. I have a mate. I can’t think about things like this anymore.” 

Kiri puffed and rolled her eyes, before getting up from her spot on the floor and leaving, but not before she said one last thing. 

“Just because you can’t think about it, doesn’t mean you don’t.” 

Neteyam couldn’t argue with his sister anymore, not when she was right, not when regardless how much his sheer force of will denied him visions of you, memories of you, at his most vulnerable, in his dreams, your smile was all he saw, your transcendent alien beauty his own personal sun, his own personal guide post and his light all in one. He couldn't deny you when, still to this day, the reminder of your eyes that shone like stars in the night sky, that were the mirror to your soul he could drown in and be thankful for the chance to be overcome in you and in the love that he used to know so intimately, in the laugh that still echoes in his ears, in the strength that informed his, in everything you were that he didn’t have anymore that still held power over him, was still able to empty his brain of every other thought that wasn't this, and wasn't you.

I hit the ground running each night I hit the Sunday matinée You know the greatest films of all time were never made

“Kid… are you ok?” 

A hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your focused rumination, a state you found yourself in more and more these last few days, as the mostly exciting and somewhat dreaded arrival of the Sullys approached, a state that culminated today, as you were only a few hours away from seeing them again, from seeing him again. Your head snapped to the man who talked to you, a man who sympathised with your pain more than anyone else. Norm tried his best. After finding out about you and Neteyam’s relationship, he has kept the updates about the Sully’s lives to as much as he felt you needed to know, and you were grateful.

Still, you couldn’t help hear some things, huge things, monumental things, things that shifted your world on its axis and emptied whatever was left of the contents of your ribcage. It’s not like you didn’t expect it to happen at some point, and yet, expectations meant nothing when your mind still tried to cling on to every single ounce of delusion it could in order to survive. In your mind, you were still 18 and Neteyam was still your best friend and the dreams that plagued you every night, of an alternate reality you couldn’t help but still yearn for, one in which he was still yours and you were still his, one in which he never let you go and you were overwhelmingly happy and sickeningly in love, didn’t stop when you woke.

But that’s all they were, just dreams. Because in reality, you had a different life - a good life, a life you couldn’t really complain about, one in which you had an Avatar and friends and loved ones, in which you could finally breathe the air that poisoned you for the majority of your life, one in which you were about to become one of the people, the way you’ve always wanted… one in which Neteyam’s mate was pregnant with his child, one in which every last delusion you had came crashing down into the ground, forcing you to leave the past behind once more and wake up to the world surrounding you, that despite his absence, hasn’t stop moving on and along. 

In the few months since you found out, you tried… you really tried, every day of your life, to take a page from the book of the rest of the world, and move on. You focused on training and on yourself, you threw the necklace Neteyam gave you that meant so much to you once, you put all the stuff that reminded you of him in a designated box that you never touched, that lay safe from sight beneath your desk, correctly labeled so as to not mistakenly pick it up and rummage through it. 

You spent most of your days in your new Avatar body, testing the limits to which it can be pushed, working harder than you ever had to belong, to learn, to see, to leave your human self behind and embrace this body which will soon, with Eywa's will, be your only one. Having this body came with a lot of advantages, too many to count, one of which you never really considered, but now were trying to embrace: dating. Being openly courted, and wanted, the possibility of spending your whole life with one person, that chooses you every day, the possibility of mating, of experiencing tsaheylu with someone else, of having a family, it was all new to you... all new and overwhelming and bittersweet. You've never allowed yourself to think about the future before, because you knew it would only lead to heartbreak. What was the point, when the only man you've ever loved was out of your reach, when your body wasn't made for this world, where the possibility of bringing a tiny human to life only to watch them suffer the same fate of struggling between two lives, neither of which you truly belonged in, terrified you.

But now, you had to think about it. You needed to think about it. Did you want it, all of it, any of it? A family, a mate? Did you want to feel love again, could any love feel the same way, as poignant or powerful or earth-shattering as the one you had? Could anyone's touch or smile or laugh, anyone's eyes or hands or tahni, anyone's voice or embrace or beauty ever elicit the same emotions in you? You wondered if they did for him, and his new mate. You wondered if he moved on after all. You hoped he did.

You hoped he didn't.

You watched as Spider gobbled down the food that was placed in front of him, with enough ferocity to really buy into a notion that he has, indeed, never seen food before in his life. You rolled your eyes as you pushed a paper napkin on his tray, laughing at the way he hurried to brush the stray crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand instead. Spider was very excited about today. You couldn't help admire this boy you grew up with, that you had to watch turn into a man and mighty warrior, and the simplistic way he approached life. Life was black and white to him, and more and more, you were jealous of the shades of grey that always plagued you, making everything a lot more complicated than it ever needed to be.

To him, life was simple: when him and Kiri were together, they were together and it was love, and it was all he needed. When they left, he realised immediately that it was outside of their control and that there was no other way, and understood them and moved on. That simple. Now that they're coming back, and he has an Avatar, and he will soon be one of the people, life is once more simple in his eyes - all he has to do is just... go for it. And he will. And you knew there was enough stubbornness and impulsiveness in Kiri that she would drop everything and join him.

Life had never been simple in your eyes. Your relationship with Neteyam... never simple. It was wondrous, and magical and unique... and it was sad, beautiful and tragic. When he left the first time, when they left, they took everything with them. When you went to Awa'atlu, and he confessed, he gave everything back and more. And then all you could do is watch as it was cruelly plucked away from your grasp, before you even had a chance to hold it tightly against your chest, before needing to let it go... forever.

Life was never simple in his, either. There was so much, too much to do, to achieve... so much to strive for, so much to make up for... so much to sacrifice. And it didn't matter. The love didn't matter, because there were bigger worries and bigger responsibilities. And in the end... maybe he found it was for the best. He might have had to give up being Olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya, but Eywa rewarded his new life within the Metkayina with the privilege of leading a new tribe. Of being the father of the next Olo'eyktan, the first child born of a forest Na'vi and a reef Na'vi. It was a blessing. A miracle. Your nightmare. And one you'd have to face again, in a matter of hours.

It was strange, going through the village, seeing the grandiose garlands, fires and displays that were being put forward for the arrival of the Sullys. You weren't surprised, not at all, although it was easy to forget sometimes, when you remember the warmth and tight family unit, the intimate moments being buried in Neteyam's chest as he purred lightly as he drifted off, how in those moments, he wasn't the prodigy of the Omaticaya, nor the son of the greatest warriors on Pandora, but just Neteyam, your best friend, your confidant, your everything.

He was never yours to lose.

I guess you never know, never know And if you wanted me, you really should've showed

"Ma Tawtute!"

The voice of Tarsem cut through all the commotion and perked your ears up, your newfound heightened senses still something you were getting used to slowly. You smiled at the sight of his smile, always wide and sincere when it looked at you. You were grateful for Tarsem. He somehow did for you and Spider what neither Jake, Neytiri or Mo'at ever did. He made you part of the people. Even before you got an Avatar. He showed you that the human proverb was indeed true - where there's a will, there's a way, and much to your infinite sorrow over the matter, more and more it seemed the Sullys had very little of either, when it came to the two human children abandoned here after the war.

But he did. Tarsem did. He took you both in, and trained you and allowed you to know a real family, a real sense of community. It was a bit surreal how quickly the other adapted after seeing how their new leader behaved. It was also surreal to think that you could have had this your whole life, and yet you didn't.

"Oel Ngati Kameie, ma Olo'eyktan!"

"Agh, I told you not to call me that. It's just Tarsem."

You watched carefully how his tail undulated wildly behind him, knocking into his thighs haphazardly. You were still trying to understand your own tail and decode the few patters you have noticed in others. Erratic tail meant excited... it meant happy. Was he happy to see you? Was the purple twinge in his cheeks just the result of the busy schedule he was forced to undertake in the past few weeks, the unrelenting duties of the chieftan that tired him? It had to be, because there's no way that-

A loud cacophony of war cries interrupted the moment, and right now, for just a second, you were almost glad. Only for a second, only until you remembered what the yells meant, and as you did, so did your mind start racing and your heart gallop in your chest, and you were glad, as you have been for a while, for the fact you no longer required a mask to breathe, because it would have been fogged blind by now, and you needed your senses - you needed to be acutely aware of your surroundings, of your own body, if you were going to come face to face with the family you once thought was your forever home, and the man you once couldn't imagine existing without.

You recognised their ikran immediately, the incandescent beauty and unmistakable colour patterns hard to forget, even if you didn't spend nights dreaming about them. Seze was last to land, and as soon as she did and he dismounted, you saw his gaze scanning the crowd awaiting him.

Your eyes meet and in a second, a sea of memories flooded your mind, flashing before your eyes like the stereoscope Norm and Max gave you on your last birthday. A thousand images, some that made you want to smile, others that made you want to wail in agony, all that tugged sharply at the string of your heart until it reminded you of all the loose stitches keeping it together.

As he approached, his eyes never leaving yours, you saw in them the same emotions you were going through, and it was easier than you thought it would be, being in his presence, and you realised you didn’t really want to die anymore, and the pain of his soul spilling all around you like endless rays of sunlight and all he meant to you had dulled slightly in time, but still, nothing changed, you realise sadly. Despite all the changes in his appearance, he was still Neteyam, still the man you loved and would always love, still not yours anymore. 

“You’re a lot… taller than I remember.” his smile was soft and tentative, and you were grateful that he talked first, so that you didn't have to. He's always known you, down to the darkest corners of your being, and while it was a hard pill to swallow now, you appreciated it in the moment, his intrinsic ability to know exactly what to do or say, in order to get you to relax.

“And you’re a lot shorter than I remember.” you laugh and just like that, the tension dissipates slightly.

“It’s good to see you... Vol.” 

Vol… the nickname electrified your every nerve, and you felt a whole year of progress slowly being undone, but unlike before, you knew how to put yourself back together again... you were forced to learn in time, and you were grateful for it now. 

You smiled a little, and you took him in, all the changes a year brought forth that you weren’t there to witness. He was leaner, all the swimming streamlining his body a lot more than being in the forest ever did. He had a big, intricate tattoo on his left arm, and one on his lower abdomen. His signature braids were gone, replaced by half braids that opened up into soft curls. He was handsome, so handsome, but you missed his braids, and his more muscular appearance. He looked a lot less Omaticaya now, which you knew he would, but it still filled you with a sense of sorrow, the departure from his roots, from his true home… from you.

“It’s good to see you too, Teyam. Seems like the reef agrees with you.” 

You let out a big exhale as he covered the ground between you and enveloped you in a hug, his head finding the crook of your neck, and you found tears haunting you at how well your new body fit in his, how you were the perfect height for the perfect hug, how your face almost moulded into his chest like the missing piece of the puzzle you’ve both tried to solve all your life, but will now never be able to. How unfair the universe, you found yourself asking again, to give you this avatar just a few weeks too late to matter, to change anything. 

You tightened your arms around him and you stood there, in the silence, just listening to his breath and your own, and trying to ignore the small drops falling down your back. They weren’t tears, you told yourself. Not his tears. And neither were the droplets falling down your face.. Not tears. Not your tears. 

Before either of you could say anything else, a sea of people, all who knew and loved Neteyam, all who wanted to greet him and talk to him and be around him, pulled you away from him and gave you a chance to greet your lost siblings. Lo'ak was taller, so much taller, and you were amazed to see his progress, not just physical, but mental - too. He looked confident, and happy. He looked like he found his home, his purpose, his people. Kiri, on the other hand, had eyes for no one other than one person, who, in time became the embodiment of this tribe you both loved so much - strong, valiant, forged in fire. Spider was as much Omaticaya as the people born here, and soon, he will be born again, a true man of the tribe, and gain his place amongst the Na'vi forever.

There were moments, infrequent and far apart these days, when you craved the intimacy: to be loved, to be revered, to be cherished once more. It hurt, right now, looking at Kiri and Spider, at the unspoken conversation they were having without a single word, that felt so intimate, it almost felt wrong for you to be able to witness it. You had that too, once. You wondered if anyone would ever look at you the same, ever again.

Neteyam felt overwhelmed, a feeling he didn't experience too often in life. He was being pulled away in all directions, by people he's known all his life, with wide smiles and words of congratulations and elation for the mateship, for the incredible new progress made with a powerful clan they've never been close to prior to this, for being the next Olo'eyktan, for news of his approaching fatherhood. So many opportunities, once greater than the other, he realised, and he was grateful - for the attention and the love, the care that never diminished even with his family's departure. He tried to listen and engage, but his eyes couldn't stop themselves from being drawn to one figure, and one alone.

It was surreal, looking at you, the you that didn't quite look like you, and yet, even twice as tall and a different colour... a different species altogether, even as you stood right now, back turned to him, talking to his family, you were still someone he would be able to recognise instantly, for the rest of his life. Your tail, a now clear window into your emotions, gave away the anxiety and alertness that mirrored his own. It was good to know this wasn't affecting only him, that much like your whole lives, as long as you had each other, neither of you ever had to go through anything completely by yourselves. He was sad, so sad, that he knew nothing about your life anymore, except for the small snippets he overheard or the few pieces of information he sought out in the few moments, far and few in between, when his heart didn't feel like it was crushed under the weight of your momentous memory, that was still too heavy to lift proudly, with a head held high.

Before his mind could wander in waters too deep and dangerous to safely swam in, the voice of the new Olo'eyktan pulled him out of his musings, and it was almost contagious, his celebratory demeanour.

"To celebrate the return of our Toruk Makto and his family, the brightest feathers in the bow that is the Omaticaya clan, and the upcoming Iknimaya and Uniltaron of our four Tawtute, I now declare the official start of the festivities. May the hunts of life forever bring you back home, Jakesulli, Neytiri, Neteyam, Kiri, Lo'ak, little Tuk. And to our little humans, may Eywa bless your endeavours and allow you to join us as part of the People, forever and for always."

He was good at this, Neteyam noted. Being a leader. Tarsem wasn't much older than Neteyam, but, right now, he felt like there were mountains separating them. He was poised and intrepid, he commanded everyone's attention in a way that only his father ever did, and he realised in that moment that, despite being heartbroken about it at the time, he had been right to choose him, instead of his own son.

The celebration was as exuberant and exhilarating as Neteyam remembered, and with the nerves plaguing him for weeks gently out of the way, he was able to enjoy himself and relax, catching up with his grandmother and his friends, all people he's missed dearly. The one he missed the most kept busy with his siblings, almost making a point to avoid him, which he couldn't blame you for, although the effort was not enough to prevent the way your eyes met regularly, subconsciously searching for each other, even now, after all this time. So many things have changed, monumental and forever-altering, and yet, somehow, he didn't think this ever will.

"He will need a mate soon. The Tsa'hik is tired, Jakesully."

It was way past eclipse when his grandmother's words pulled him out of the pleasant conversation he was having with an older friend, and he turned to her and watched as she smiled a sly smile, giving a pointed look to his mother. "And since my daughter decided to abandon me, I need a new Tsakarem. The clan, now more than most, needs stability, they need to know they will be in good hands."

"Ah, Mo'at... he's still young, give him time. He will find a mate soon enough. He's good looking, intelligent... a good warrior, a good leader. I wouldn't be surprised if women were throwing themselves at his feet."

"They are, but he doesn't have eyes for any of them. In fact, there's only one person he sees, and it's obvious to everyone but her."

Neteyam followed his grandmother's gaze and felt his breath hitch in his throat at who it landed on.

As he dug into the food that he missed so much, that he loved with all his heart, that was so carefully prepared by the best hands in the clan, it all tasted spoiled and rotten in his mouth, as soon as his eyes locked on your figure on the other side of the fire, laughing wildly in an intimate display of affection, while Tarsem's hand was placed carelessly on your thigh.

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow And it's alright now

taglist: rebeccao03 @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @eywaeveng @midnight1812 @fanboyluvr

[blakelysco-pilot]

This Is Always

From the Love Letter Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

The holidays are usually a time to be spent together, cold noses warmed by the fire, and joyful cheers as the New Year approaches. This year, Rosie is struggling with being away from Jo, and acknowledging the future that he dreams of sharing with her. A heart to heart with Crosby helps put things into perspective for both of them.

Read Part 3 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

January 1944

My Dearest Jo,

Happy New Year, honey pie! It’s just after midnight here, and though I wanted to be the first person to wish you a Happy New Year, I know that by the time you get this, it will be after the fact. I guess by writing this now, while it’s still ‘43 back home, I’m letting myself be greedy in being the first to send you those wishes. I hope you’re doing something fun tonight, and getting all dolled up to paint the town red. Your last letter came just after Christmas, but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you just how happy it made me to hear that you were still doing all of your usual Christmas favorites, even if I’m not home to carry all your shopping bags back to Brooklyn after a full day in the city. Believe me, I even miss doing that, no matter how heavy some of them are. 

I got Ma’s last letter just a few days before yours arrived, and she mentioned that you went by the house to celebrate Hanukkah with her and Jeanie. I know that made her really happy, and I can’t thank you enough for keeping an extra eye on both of them for me while I’m stuck over here. My sister would argue that she doesn’t need anyone keeping an eye on her, but I’m sure she appreciates your company, and will rub it in my face after the fact that she got to spend so much time with you. That’s what little sisters do, isn’t it? 

We had a small thing in the Officers Club for the holidays; nothing too fancy, but there was music, and some good liquor that someone managed to scrounge up for the occasion. The Red Cross Clubmobile girls pulled some resources and, even with rationing, managed to bake a few cookies for us. They were good, but they couldn't hold a candle to yours. 

I have never wanted one of your Christmas cookies more than after reading your letter, and to know that Jean Crosby took over as the official taste tester this year; oh it broke my heart darling. But, I’m glad to know that you two girls are keeping each other company, and I know that Croz is happy knowing that she’s not alone. I do hope you two aren’t causing too much trouble while we’re away. Knowing you the way that I do, I know that’s a bit of a pipe dream, but one of the reasons I adore you the way that I do. 

At the risk of sounding melancholy, I’ve spent most of today wishing I could take you dancing; spin you around until we’re both dizzy, until finally we can ring in the new year with champagne. Crowded on the dance floor at Minton’s, wrapped up in each other. Maybe it’s bold of me to ask, or maybe it’s the whiskey, but would you have allowed me a midnight kiss, Jo? I can’t picture kissing anyone else as the clock strikes twelve, nor do I want to, on this holiday or any other day. I hope that by next year, we'll be able to spend the evening together, and not have to send holiday wishes in letters that take too long to get there. 

I dream of you every night, sweetheart, and every night these sweet dreams end with a kiss before I’m pulled back to reality. I’ve been dreaming of the future, and if the real thing is anything like my dreams, I can’t wait for those days to begin. I wonder,do you dream of those days too? Of building a home together, a life that’s just ours. Living in the city, maybe somewhere near Harry and Jean. We could go to the pictures on Friday nights, and sleep in on Saturday’s, warm under the blankets until we peel ourselves from the sheets only because we need to make coffee. I’d spin you around the kitchen while we made breakfast, a record on the Victrola, the two of us tangled together while the eggs burned. The more I think about it, the more it all sounds like a dream come true. 

Maybe it is the whiskey talking, but it’s getting late here. Or early depending on how you look at it, and even though we aren’t flying tomorrow, I’m sure the rest of the fellas will be returning from the Officers Club soon enough. I’ll be dreaming of you tonight, sweetheart, and counting the days until we’re together again. 

Sending you millions of hugs and kisses, and all of my love. 

Yours for always

Robbie

Rosie took a deep breath, and without giving himself a chance to second guess anything in his letter, folded it up and slid it inside the envelope. He’d address it in the morning and drop it off at APO so that it went out with the next mail call; tonight it would remain on the nightstand next to his bed, with Jo’s photo. He was still in his uniform, not having bothered changing after he returned to the Officer’s hut, and was about to take advantage of the empty shower stall, when the door swung open and Harry walked in.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Harry spoke, hand coming up to loosen his tie. 

“Yea, I uh, wanted to get a letter out to Jo,” Rosie signed, dragging his hand down his face. ‘Or at the very least, written.”

“It’s rough around the holidays isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. Harry knew as well as he did, and he knew his friend was giving him an opening to get his feelings off his chest. 

“Probably the most difficult part of all this. We’ve spent every Christmas and Hanukkah together since we met.”

“She celebrates Hanukkah with you and your mom?”

“Jo is the best gift giver in our family, according to my sister.” Rosie grinned. 

“Sounds like your sister will be the disappointed one if you don’t put a ring on Jo’s finger when we get home.” Harry chuckled, dropping down onto his own bed, across from Rosie’s.

“She’d have to fight my Ma for the top spot, if I don’t marry Jo.” 

The two shared a quiet moment  as their thoughts drifted to a place far from England. Far from flak and casualties and torn fuselages. No thoughts of missing friends, mission counts or that damned red light never blinking off. 

Rosie knew that Harry understood better than anyone; how it felt to be so devoted to someone, and yet, he felt compelled to ask the one question that, if he had to wager, everyone asks at some point. 

“How’d you know Jean was the one?” He asked after a moment, gaze turned upward to meet that of his friend. 

“She wanted nothing to do with me when we met,” Harry balked so loudly that it seemed to echo off the walls of the Nissen Hut. “But I knew. I didn’t want to spend another day without her.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Oh yeah, you just know,” Harry nodded. “When did you know Jo was the one? And don’t tell me you didn’t…”

“Let’s just say I should have opened my mouth a long time ago.”

“Well, better late than never.”

“What if I was too late, Croz?”

Harry stood from his bed, moving around the front to lean himself against the footboard. With a determined gaze, he made sure he had Rosie’s full attention before saying what was on his mind. 

“You can’t think like that. You need to believe you’re going home to her, that you two will have a life after all this.”

“God, I hope so.”

“I don’t know Jo as well as you do,” He started. “I only know what Jean tells me in her letters, but it sounds to me like she’s really something. And I’m not just saying that because she went out of her way to befriend my wife.”

“I told her I want a life with her, a future, our own place, Saturday mornings in bed, lazy days…”

“You want the dream.” Harry nodded in understanding. 

“Told her maybe we’d move to the city, leave Brooklyn, get a place near you and Jean.”

“Sounds like we’ll be in trouble if that happens, Jo and Jean a stone's throw away from each other?”

“I think the two of us are going to have our hands full when we get home, Croz.”

“I bet they’re saying the same thing about us,” Harry laughed. “And I wouldn’t blame Jean. I’ve been a real handful as of late.”

“Oh yea, you’re causing lots of trouble all the way over here.” Rosie chuckled, propping his legs up on the bed, feet hanging off the edge so as to not dirty the sheets. He didn’t miss the slight look of distress that flashed across his friend's face. 

He regarded him carefully; he looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue. His face looked worried, like he had something weighing him down exponentially, and Rosie would allow his friend the moment if he needed it. After all, it was the holiday’s and they were the best source of camaraderie that they had; friends should be there for each other. No one understood that better than he did. 

“No, I’ve been a handful…” Harry finally continued. 

“Croz?”

“Remember after Munster? When Harding sent me to Oxford?”

“Yea…”

“They double you up when you’re at those conferences, and my roommate, she-”

“Ah jeez, Croz…”

Harry sighed, dropping his head, too ashamed to look his friend in the eye. The moment had turned in the blink of an eye, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it, or get his friend through it. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try. 

“I don’t know how to tell Jean.”

“Is this why you kept disappearing up to London? To see her?”

“How do I tell my wife that I slept with another woman?”

“You just do, Croz.”

“That’s the worst possible thing to write in a letter. ‘Honey, I miss you terribly, by the way…’”

“Alright, I see your point. But you need to tell her.”

“This fucking war,” Harry sighed. “I swear, it peels the humanity right from your bones.”

“Then you fight it.”

“More than we already have? More than what we’ve given and lost?”

Rosie knew he was referring to Bubbles, and for a moment he let his mind wander to Nash, and that first mission to Bremen. It would be easy to fold; to pack it up and let the fight take from you more and more. But he would be damned if he’d let it take more from him, and if he had to fight a little extra to make sure it didn’t take any more from his friend, he’d do that too. 

“You’re not fighting it alone, Croz.”

“Feels like it most of the time.”

“And you’re fighting for something back home, even if you feel like you don’t deserve it at the moment.”

“I don't deserve her.” 

“Yea, you do. And you’ll tell her everything, whether you write it, or tell her when we get home. And Jo and I will be there for you both.”

Harry looked like he was about to respond when the door to the Officers Hut swung open. He turned, half expecting a replacement officer, but was surprised to see Blakely and Douglass, the former with a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and Douglass swinging a bottle of something in his left hand. 

“Nightcap, fellas?” Douglass lifted the bottle, and Rosie could just make out the label. Vat 69. 

“Where the hell did you get that, Dougie?” Harry’s eyes went wide at the familiar label from back home. A very expensive label. 

“Been saving it, so come on, let’s have a drink.”

“No, seriously, who’d you steal that from?” Rosie asked, watching as Blakely gathered four of the glasses the boys kept on their side tables for brushing their teeth. 

“I won it in a bet, if you must know.” Douglass grinned, pulling the wax seal from the neck of the bottle before pulling the cork out.

“The details are not of importance,” Blakely chimed in, swatting Rosie’s legs off the bed to take up the space next to him. “What is important is that we’re here, and alive, so stop asking questions and have a drink would ya?”

Douglass poured for the four of them, dropping himself down on the bed next to Rosie’s, while waiting for Harry to join them. 

“Any day now, Croz…” he groaned, glass between two fingers as he held it out for the navigator. “It’ll be ‘45 by the time you move.”

“Dougie… fuck off.” Harry stood with a laugh, brushing off his slacks before snatching the glass and taking the seat next to him. “And anyway, we’d all better be home by ‘45.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Blakely nodded, holding his glass up to cheers his friends, the only ones left that weren’t replacement crews, or trapped somewhere in the Stalag. 

The foursome sat silently as they sipped their prize whiskey, thoughts turned presumably to home and memories of Christmas and New Years’ spent with people they loved and missed. 

“Alright, what would you be doing if you were home right now?” Ev broke the silence, leaning his elbows on his knees, gaze landing on Harry. 

“His wife, dumbass.” Douglass chuckled. 

“Woah hey, none of that.” Rosie looked between the two, the rules immediately being put into place without having to say them. 

They didn’t talk like that, but he assumed it had been a bit too much whiskey already for Douglass, and with there no mission on the horizon for tomorrow, their guards were all down a bit. 

“Right, right, sorry Croz,” Douglass held his hands up in apology. “For real, what would you and Jean be doing if you were home?”

“We’d go out for dinner, but I think we’d probably be home for the bells,” he closed his eyes wistfully, and Rosie knew his friend was simply hoping that he’d be able to do that next year. “Dance in the living room, and yea, off to bed.”

Blakely nodded, reaching across to drop his hand to Crosby’s knee in a gesture of good faith, that he felt for him in a way, and was hoping he’d get that moment sooner rather than later. 

“What about you?” Ev turned to his right, finding Rosie sitting quietly. 

“What about me?” Rosie brought the glass to his lips, taking a small sip and letting the taste linger on his tongue a moment. 

“Would you and Josephine be out on the town?” Douglass asked, gesturing to the photo on Rosie’s side table. 

“Oh yea, we’d be at Minton’s, dancing until they kicked us out I’m sure.” Rosie laughed. 

“Together at the club then?”

“Every year we go dancing on New Years,” Rosie started. “Christmas and Hanukkah are for family, New Years is for friends.”

“She’s more than a friend.” Harry looked at him pointedly. 

“She is, and a fella can dream that she’ll say yes when I get home.”

Blakely, who had been pulling the cigarette from behind his ear to light it, fumbled, dropping it to the ground at Rosie’s confession. 

“You got a ring?!”

“No, but, that’s my second order of business once I’m back stateside.”

“And the first?”

“To kiss the hell out of her.” Rosie confessed. 

“Good man.” Blakely slapped him on the shoulder, a smile on his face. 

It was absolutely the whiskey talking this time, but he was among friends. The trust was insurmountable. Between the confessions that had taken place before Ev and Dougie had joined them, and the warmth flowing through his veins, Rosie lifted the glass to his lips to drain it, before standing from his place on the bed. Swiping the envelope from earlier, and a clean sheet of paper from the table, he glanced at his friends with a grin, and offered a two fingered salute. 

“Gentlemen, I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going! We still have more whiskey!” Douglass hollered after him. 

“Save it for another occasion!” Rosie called back as he pushed through the doors and out into the chilly January air. 

He walked until he found a spot under one of the lamp posts, the bench undoubtedly cold as he sat down, but he wouldn’t be out here for long. Just enough time, and privacy, to get the thoughts swarming around in his head out on the page before he lost his nerve. 

Pulling his pen from his breast pocket, he carefully let the paper rest on his thigh before he began scrawling his extra note. 

Hi Sweetheart, 

I know this is coming with no context but, I want you to know how much I adore you. I know I’ve said it in different ways, and a few times by now, but, I mean it. Truly, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. And to say it from thousands of miles away, with a war on no less. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to hit me once I’m back home. 

Just know that I’ll always, always, carry your heart with the most careful of hands. I’ll keep you safe, and treasure every moment we have together. Anything you want, it’s yours, Jo. A quiet life together, or a herd of children that jump on the bed on Sunday mornings. I’ll make sure you have it honey. 

Just know, I’m yours for however long you’ll have me, Josephine. I’m hoping for forever, but that’s a question for another day. 

I love you,

Robbie 

Read part 5 Here

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @basilone @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 9

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Tom sticks his foot in his mouth some? AN: Chicks have survived! We ordered 4, got 5 and they all hatched on V day and have Vday themed names. Chapter 8, Masterlist, Chapter 10 ~~~~~<3 “Let me be clear- I am committed for at least a year or until death. We’re married. I do not take that lightly.” It drove him mad that he had to keep saying it. When would she believe that it was more than just a whim? 

“Tom-”

“Part of being married is the sharing of resources and caring for each other. I care for you and I care for her. You don’t have to care about me- it would be nice but that may come in time.”

“What if you change your mind? What then?” 

Mia felt like screaming. She felt like running. She felt like crying. She felt like reaching out to him for comfort. Instead she sat stone still and board straight. 

“What if I let you find us some magical Las Vegas apartment, get us moved and three months from now you get tired of your secret American family and stop paying the rent?”

“I-” It was her turn to cut him off. 

“You’re right- I can’t afford anything better. I can’t afford food until Monday. If I let you in, let you change our lives and then you change your mind? We end up homeless. Hell, I can only afford this damn apartment because we’ve been there so long.” 

“I wouldn’t-”

“How do I know that? How can I trust that?” Mia’s frustration grew when her vision waved as her eyes grew teary. “You think I don’t want to give you a chance because you’re ugly or cruel or something. Any woman would die for this chance but I can’t. I’ve got a little girl who relies on me.” 

She harshly wiped away a tear that had the nerve to slip from her eye. 

“If I take a gamble and it’s a bust, she gets hurt. She ends up homeless. She ends up in state custody. She gets her heart broken too.” 

“I didn’t think of it that way.” 

She scoffed at him and he bristled at that, opening his mouth to try and defend himself. She started again before he had a chance to say anything though. 

“It’s my job to think of that. How can I trust a stranger, even a stranger I married on a whim, to not let some little girl who he’s known for even less time become homeless. How can I trust that you’re not going to suck her into your charm, make her see you as a father then walk away?”

“I don’t want to push her to see me as a father.” That was the easiest point to focus on first. “If that happens, it happens naturally. I’m not going to pretend that we don’t have a lot of things to decide on, to plan and work out but that will take time.”

Creeping fingers slid a few inches more. He wiggled his finger tips against hers, lacing them together. She didn’t pull away and he took that as a good sign.

 “Tom,”

“If I find an apartment- something modest but without gaps in the doors or maintenance crews that help themselves to tenant’s groceries, if I were to pay the lease up front for the year, would you consider it?”

“This is my life-” People would say she was using him, she knew that as much as she knew her name. 

“No, Mia- not any more.” His voice was soft, devoid of the harshness that had crept in. “It’s our life now. We get to decide what that looks like. We will go over what bills we’ll have, we’ll work together and come up with a plan that makes you feel safe and lets me feel assured that the two of you are safe.”

“I don’t want to use you.” She wanted to accept. 

Glancing at Sally, she knew for her daughter this sort of chance at financial security may never come again. If she allowed Tom to take care of them, even if things didn’t work out she could save her checks. 

“If I’m offering, insisting and fighting you to allow it, is that using me?”

“I’ll think about it, alright?” Mia ran her hand through her hair, scarping her nails along her scalp. “It’s just- It’s a lot, really fast.”

“I know.” 

~~~~~<3

She stood in the kitchen crying. There were boxes scattered in the living room to be taken to the trash later. Tom was upstairs reading who knows how many bedtime stories to Sally.

It felt weird to not be the one putting her to sleep. It felt good to have someone to help with simple tasks like bedtime. 

If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to this.

Realizing the refrigerator and freezer both had been standing open while she cried, for how long was anyone’s guess, she closed it. It was overwhelming, seeing the full shelves. Tom had kept his word, stocking the kitchen in a way she had never been able to do before. 

There were drinks and snacks. Brand new pest proof bins held rice, flour, sugar and dried pastas. A electric kettle sat on her counter and a variety of teas were stacked next to her coffee pot. 

Things for him. Things for her husband. 

“Are you alright?” Tom asked softly from the foot of the stairs. “She’s asleep.” 

Mia couldn’t do anything but nod at first. 

“It’s just a lot.” She said weakly. Everything was hitting her now. Regardless of if she wanted to or not, she was going to have herself a good cry right now.

“Is it?” Tom wasn’t sure what to say as he approached. 

“No one’s ever- I’ve never. We’ve never had this much before.”

Tom moved slow, giving her chance after chance to tell him to back up, to stop, to give her space or go away. Large hands rested on her shoulders as he looked down to her.

 “Does he not provide for his daughter?” That was a question that had been rattling around in his brain since he saw the picture. 

“He’s supposed to pay child support but he hasn’t in over a year. It’s just been me and when Ashley can, she’ll help.”

Slowly, Tom pulled her to his chest. “It’s okay.” He soothed. 

It felt good to be held by him. The moment stretched on as she tried to keep her tears to a minimum. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as she pulled herself away from him. 

There were things to do and crying in his arms wasn’t something on her schedule. 

~~~~~<3

They sat, cups of tea on the small table in front of them. Tom flipped through apartment listings only to have every single option turned down. Frustration built in him with each apartment, nice and basic, turned down. “Why? They’re all nicer than this place.” 

She sat in silence as he took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her intention but she was being difficult. 

“I’m sorry.” And she was, to a degree. “It’s just so much.’ 

“I’m just going to pick some and we’ll look.” Tom decided, locking his phone and setting it facedown on the table in front of them. “There’s still a lot to decide. We can put the utilities on auto pay so you don’t-”

“I don’t want you to pay for everything.” It would be better to just shut up and let him pay everything, she knew that. It would allow her to save more for when this inevitably falls apart but she just couldn’t make herself feel okay doing it. “Let me at least keep the electric and internet- the electric will vary during the year and the internet isn’t a necessity.”

“I can send money for groceries-” 

“If I’m not paying rent, groceries shouldn’t be a problem.” 

For the first time in their marriage, they sat and talked into the night. The topics were not fun ones. They talked of financial histories, debts, education and potential future earnings. They talked about the cost of managing their individual households.

Tom wasn’t rich in the realm of his career but compared to her, he was far more financially secure. And unlike her, his career was ramping up and reaching for the sky. Tom swore to her, regardless of what direction his career took, if their attempt at a marriage did not work he would not leave her financially hurt but she struggled still to put faith in him.

~~~~~<3

Midnight quickly approached and Mia’s yawns were coming more and more frequently. They were so different in backgrounds that simply learning about each other’s past ate up more of the night.

“You should go to bed.” Tom’s hand reached out for hers. “It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve been up just as long as me.” Mia countered though she still stood up, slipping her hand out from under his. 

“I need to be up a bit longer yet.” He wanted nothing more than to go up to bed though. “I’ve got to make some calls back home. Face the music and take my licks.” 

“Are you in trouble with someone?” 

“No, not really.” Tom thought twice about his answer after he said it. “Probably but hopefully he’s cooled off by now. My publicist wasn’t so happy with me. I blocked him after breakfast yesterday.”

“He knows about-?” She waved her hand to try and encompass the whole situation.

“Yeah, at least some of it.” 

“I didn’t know you told anyone yet.” It was weird. They had built their relationship, small as it was, in a bubble where in a lot of ways he was just a normal man who was caught up in a Las Vegas situation fit for a Lifetime movie.

“I didn’t.” 

Tom knew he needed to face reality head on. Luke would tell him how important it was to get ahead of the story and now it’s been two days. 

“There are pictures of us at a bar and of me with you in your gown. I don’t know how much the world knows but I did tell Luke about our marriage.” 

“It would be better for you if we didn’t do this.” Mia felt the earth tilting under her feet as what he was inched in again. 

“Maybe, but that’s not something I want to change.” 

Mia had so many questions but she didn’t know how to voice any of them. “Marriage records here are public,” was all she could think to say. 

“That’s not a problem- I was planning on telling the truth. Or at least a version of it.”

“What’s that mean?” 

“I like to keep my private life private. We’ll probably present us as something recent but not same day recent.”

“Should I stay up too?” Mia didn’t know what her role in this would be. 

Tom stood and walked over to where she lingered by the stairs. He was touched at how she had opened up to him, slight though it was. It was there, he could feel it- the little buds that could maybe grow into the roots of a real marriage. 

Reaching out, he took her hand in his. These small acts of affection were easier to accept each time they happened but it was clear they still left her uncomfortable. It still very much felt like pretend to her. Mia struggled to believe he felt anything but duty in them. 

“Go on up to bed. I’ll be up as soon as I get done.” 

~~~~~<3

~~~~~<3

Stand still. 

Stand straight. 

Write slow and careful. 

Be neat. 

Breathe. 

Mia checked and double checked her spelling on the form. She sucked on a breath mint, feeling like she was a teenager again trying not to get caught. If they didn’t pull this part off, the cards would come crashing down.

When she was sure, through the muddy sludge of her alcohol steeped mind, she handed the form to Tom. He filled his portion out just as methodically. Every time he would glance up at her, his concentration was broke by a wide grin. 

He was an old hand at filling out forms. Muscle memory took care of what Mia had spent ages overthinking. 

She followed his lead as they returned to the counter. Identification was handed over and then it was time to wait. They stood stoic and still. Every bone in their body wanted to dance, to move and to be in the moment. 

Toms fingers wove through hers. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Softly, he told her things that went in one ear and out the other, lost in the sound of blood rushing. 

“Here’s your packet. Identification is inside it.” The woman behind the counter sounded like she was reading from the dictionary to Mia. 

But not how Tom would sound reading from one. Tom would somehow sound breathtaking reading a dictionary. 

“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.” 

“Thank you,” Tom said before leaning down and kissing Mia on her cheek. 

They had pulled it off. The woman either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care that the two standing in front of her were not just intoxicated but very intoxicated. This was the one test they had to pass and they did.

“We’re going to get married.” Mia leaned into Tom’s arm as they walked out of the building and into the magical night lights. 

“Let’s go make you Mrs. Hiddleston.” Tom whispered, grin wide was he wrapped his arm around her waist. 

“Let’s go get married.” She smiled up at him, trusting him to guide her safely. 

Tom couldn’t help but glance down at the woman tucked into his side. The flashing lights reflected off her warm brown hair and danced in her eyes. 

He felt something he had never felt before when he looked at her, when she smiled up at him. It could just be the alcohol but he didn’t think so. In his heart, he knew what he felt was a love pure and simple. It was a love he had been chasing and seeking since he had become a man. 

It was a love he needed logic and fear to step aside for him to see clearly. 

Love was waiting for him, he had to just be willing to see it. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing

Ps: Sorry not sorry for the blog getting flooded in the next few weeks with baby chicken pictures, occasional dog videos and personal nonsense. Simply put, my pets are fucking cute and need to be seen. But also spring is coming and planting season is quickly approaching.

[dewdropreader]

❦ ➷ get to know your fellow fanfic writers better ༊ ✧.*

I was tagged by @bebx and @loki-is-my-kink-awakening for this “get to know the writer” tag! Thank you! 😊

when did you post your first ever fanfic?

I believe in 2012-2013? I was around 13-14 years old, so around then anyway (my first one doesn’t exist online anymore as far as I know so I can’t double check.) it was the usual middle school fandom girl era lol. First for my current account was February of 2022!

first character you wrote for:

It would have been Rin Matsuoka from Free! Iwatobi Swim Club! Specifically him and Nitori, they were one of my fave ships in that series!

main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

Basically anyone from the Loki series but especially Loki and Mobius and Sylvie, not necessarily in that order or all together but some combo of them 💚

character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

I haven’t written for OFMD but would really like to! I’ve had a lot of feels s2, no solid ideas yet but maybe something will spark some inspiration! Also Red White and Royal Blue! I haven’t gotten a chance to read the book yet but I watched the movie and got hooked and love those boys too 💕 so maybe one or both of them if the Loki series even temporarily gets it’s hooks out of me (with s2 though I’ve been as bad if not worse than before with my obsession so who knows lol)

And for within marvel the ship that got me into fanfic and got me to make this current ao3 account was Stucky so even though I only read for them and never wrote, they always have a place in my heart!

fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

Also just Loki atm! But who knows for the future.

platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Mobius and any of the void Lokis as the best found family ever (Mobius and kid, Mobius and classic, Mobius and all of them my beloveds)

I haven’t written it recently but also wrote B-15 and Sylvie in a non romantic context and even though I think they’re also cute romantically I love them as a platonic pair and want to do more with them too! Similarly Sylvie and C-20, I wish they could have been friends if things had gone a bit differently 🥺

romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Lokius and Sylkius! Haven’t written any pure Sylki but who knows (I just like Mobius too much to not include him atm)

your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

Hurt/comfort, fluff, and hugs 😂 sounds about right to me! I like some pain and crying and working through stuff but need the hugs and comfort alongside it/after it for sure.

your current platform where you post your works

AO3 is the same as my name here!

I try to post my fics links on tumblr too but don’t always remember so ao3 is always best bet if you want to read my stuff!! 😍

snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

Right now I’m most heavily focused on a character study type fic cataloging different moments with Sylvie adapting to her McDonald’s life but specifically looking at her relationship with Jack, I think she would have such a great big sister vibe and they could learn a lot from each other 🥹

“Good job today, Sylvie,” Jack says, his lopsided smile clear even before Sylvie glances his way. He’s always got compliments and kindness at the ready, and he’s young and gentle enough that they’re always believable.

“Thanks, Jack,” she feels a smile curl onto her face. She still, even after knowing Loki and Mobius and B-15, feels like she doesn’t know how to have friends or family or any genuine connections at all. But Jack is the first in a long time to feel so real to her, to feel like a relationship she can stick with, with these new more permanent circumstances and her distance from the trauma of the TVA. She doesn’t remember what it’s like to be a sister, her memories of Thor long gone beyond the occasional glimmers in her dreams, let alone what being the older sister would be like, but this is what she suspects it is. A fierce protectiveness and gentle care, the ignoring of any silly flaws or naïveté because you just care about the person. That’s what she has for Jack, ever since he took her under his wing as an employee, she’s done the same for him as just a person.

“Mind if I stay here for a bit? My ma is going to be a few more minutes.”

Sylvie just smiles softly and scoots over on the wide hood of her truck, gesturing to the empty spot.

Jack nods rather sagely as he awkwardly hoists himself on to the hood of the truck, pushing himself up with his arms and then practically throwing himself on to it.

He pants softly as he adjusts to lay on his back a foot or two away from Sylvie, giving her another boyish grin. “Hey.”

“Very smooth, Jack,” Sylvie snorts.

“Your truck is huge! I’ve ridden in trucks before but yours is massive! I’m not sure how you even get up here, you’re shorter than me!” He laughs.

“My little secret, I guess,” Sylvie shrugs with a slight smile, returning her gaze to the inky sky, dotted with a trillion stars.

I’m excited to keep writing this, I’ve got some Lokius ideas in the works too but this one has been my focus for a few days!!

I’d love to see anyone do this that is interested but I’ll tag my usual group!!

@insert-witty-user-name-here @starport-seven-five @lgwilt @mirilyawrites @cha-melodius @chaos-monkeyy @waterhorseyblues-ao3 @blackbirdofasgard @dreamycloud @queen-of-meows

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 9

read part 8 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, literary gore, major character death

a/n: we are winding down on this series, so if you have any requests or suggestions please leave them for me! i need some inspo for my next story, but I'm also gonna do some short stuff in between.

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

I’ve been sitting outside of Mindy and Chad’s place for way longer than appropriate. I know that they probably know I’m here, but I can’t make myself get out of the car.

It’s not that I don’t want to see them. I really, really do. I want to see them so badly that I swallowed my grief and guilt and got cleaned up for the first time in days. I just can’t shake the way Ethan looked at Chad and me earlier. I clench the steering wheel tighter. I’ve never seen that kind of rage, like he wanted to–

No. I push that thought away. It’s time, anyway, for me to stop being a baby and go inside. I double-check one last time that I have my bag, keys, and phone, before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

I can hear music coming from the house, even though the door is closed. The twins have a habit of blasting their speakers, which the neighbors hated until they moved away over the summer. Now, Mindy and Chad can destroy their eardrums whenever they please. 

Letting myself in, I drop my bag in the mudroom before following the sound of voices to the kitchen. Chad is hunched over the stovetop, and Mindy is sitting at the kitchen island with her chin in her hands. She perks up when she sees me, giving me a signature Mindy smirk.

“Well, look who decided to show up, huh?”

Chad throws me a smile over his shoulder. “Hey, leave her alone, Minds. She’s just in time for dinner!”

“Thanks, you guys,” I say. “What are we having?”

“Only my original pasta dish, of course,” Chad steps aside to reveal a mess of tomatoes, Parmesan containers, and empty plastic sleeves of bacon, for some reason. “It got a little out of hand. But it’s delicious!”

I laugh, and Chad smiles even wider. It fills me with something I haven’t felt in a while: contentment. There is literally nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

Mindy and Chad usher me to the dining room table, which they actually set with real cloth napkins and placemats. I’m impressed. Usually, my dinners at the Meeks-Martin house have been chips and cold pizza at 3 AM during sleepovers.

The food is perfect. I don’t know what Chad put in it, or where he found the recipe (if there was a recipe), but the food puts me in a good mood. We laugh and talk until we’ve finally stuffed ourselves. Chad is the last one to tap out, and he immediately retires to the living room to digest, claiming chef privileges that exempt him from cleanup.

“Clear the table with me, Y/N?” Mindy asks.

“Of course.” I grab a couple plates and silverware and follow Mindy back to the kitchen. I start folding placemats as she loads the dishwasher.

“Thanks for the dinner. You got all fancy for me, I see,” I tease. “Where are your parents, by the way?”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, you love that we’re spoiling you. They’re at a friend’s house tonight or something. Won’t be back until later.”

“What about Anika? I thought she’d come for sure.”

“Nah, her parents have her under house arrest. They’re spooked by– um. You know. Even though it wasn’t some psycho this time. It was just… Tara.”

I go quiet. Mindy is choked up again.

“I just can’t believe she’d do it,” she whispers.

“I know,” I say. “I guess sometimes it just gets to be too much–” “No, that’s the thing though,” Mindy interrupts. “It wasn’t. I was just talking to her about the attacks last year, right before. She said she felt like she was finally free, finally moving on. And it’s like I said, we were making plans. Real plans. She started an application to college. And she was looking for summer jobs, trying to save money for room and board. These aren’t things suicidal people do, Y/N.”

My throat feels tight. “What are you saying?”

She puts a hand over her forehead and takes a deep breath. “I’m saying that something isn’t right. What if some, like, freaky Ghostface disciple actually killed her?”

“Jesus, Mindy, are you serious?” I turn to see Chad in the doorway, a pained expression on his face. I didn’t hear him come in. 

“This isn’t one of your horror movies,” he continues, and I hear his voice trying not to break. “Sometimes life is just unfair.”

“But think about it!” Mindy continues. “She was partying, she was living. Yes, she was mad at Sam, but she got in those fights all the time! And the report said she hadn’t deadbolted the door that morning, and I know she hadn’t cracked that copy of The Bell Jar they found– she was just saying she had to SparkNotes the whole thing for class.”

“Enough, Mindy, I’m fucking serious.” Chad’s voice is raised, louder than I’ve ever heard it, But Mindy doesn’t back down. She turns to me, expectantly.

“You were basically her best friend, Y/N.” Her voice is low and intense. “Seriously. What do you think? You know that Tara wouldn’t do that.”

I look between their faces, and all of the guilt I thought I had started to let go of rises to the top. I have to tell them the truth. 

I shut my eyes tight and a tear rolls down my cheek. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” I feel Chad put a hand on my shoulder. It’s getting hard to breathe again. 

“I- I-” I stammer. “Me, and Ethan, we–”

But I’m cut off by the sound of strangled screaming. I open my eyes and my blood goes cold.

Mindy’s throat is slashed, dripping blood down her neck onto her t-shirt. Behind her is a figure in a black cloak and a white mask: Ghostface.

Ghostface lets go of Mindy, and she sinks to the floor. Even though I can’t reach her to check, I feel in my bones that she’s gone. My stomach turns into knots. I back up towards the countertop. Dear Diary: This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

Chad fumbles for a weapon on the knife block, but all of the knives have been removed. He grabs a meat tenderizer from the counter. “Fucking run, Y/N,” he roars, and I’m snapped out of my trance.

Ghostface lunges towards Chad, but he gets one hit in with the kitchen implement, hitting him in the chest. He stumbles backward, and I make a break back towards the dining room. I hear the sound of plates hitting the ground and animalistic sounds of exertion, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Chad screaming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the glint of a knife as it plunges in and out of Chad’s chest. Chad coughs up blood as he falls to his knees, but Ghostface doesn’t let up. He raises his knife and delivers one last blow, clean into Chad’s heart.

I let out a guttural scream. Ghostface turns towards me, wiping his knife clean between his robed fingers. I’m paralyzed with fear. Any survival skills I might have picked up from watching countless horror films are gone– I can’t even run.

He stalks towards me, and I close my eyes, preparing for the worst. But the blow never comes. Instead, I’m enveloped in an embrace of fabric.

I open my eyes to see the eyes of the blood-stained mask staring right at me. Slowly, the figure raises their hand, grabbing the base of the headpiece. My breathing quickens, and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest as he slowly pulls the mask off to reveal a mop of brown curls.

No.

No.

Ethan gives me a big toothy grin. “Hey, beautiful.”

I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything. He must be able to tell, because he lets out a throaty laugh. “Surprised?”

“How– how could you?” I manage to choke out. “Why… would you do this?”

“I did it for you, Y/N. For us. Do you know how close that freak Mindy was getting to figuring out the truth? You heard her. And then we’d both be in prison. Separate. Alone.”

“But Chad,” I sob. “Why would you hurt him?”

His face darkens. “Now that one, I have to admit, was fucking selfish. He wanted you, I know it. He fucking wanted you, but you’re mine.”

I can’t say anything. I’m shaking with fear, anger, confusion, everything. 

Ethan frowns. “I worship you, Y/N. I'd trade my life so you can live. I killed them for you.”

“No, no, I didn’t want– I never asked–”

“I love you, Y/N,” he growls. “Tell me you love me.” His grip grows tighter, and I finally notice the tip of the knife at my back.

What else can I say?

“I love you too, Ethan,” I concede, voice wavering.

He relaxes, and the knife clatters to the floor. “Good,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

He grabs me by the wrist and leads me out the door. As we travel through the kitchen, I shut my eyes tight. Ethan stops us. 

“Look,” he growls.

I force my eyes open and choke down my nausea at the sight of the twins’ bodies. Ethan grabs my face and pulls me into a deep kiss.

“For you, Y/N. All for you.”

taglist: @miawastakens

[in-a-nook-with-a-notebook]

Reunion | 21st Time’s The Charm

Franchise: Star Wars

Pairing: Poe Dameron x male reader (reader’s pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 3151

Warnings: angst, swearing, angst, more angst

Series Summary: You met Poe Dameron on twenty separate random occasions before you even remotely considered joining him in any sort of way, as part of the Resistance or otherwise. And while a lot happened in those twenty times, nothing really happened until the twenty-first…

Chapter Summary: Some loss of contact with Poe causes you to lose yourself and your mind a little bit. When he suddenly comes to you with an offer, you’re forced to do what’s best for both of you.

A/N: I’ve been working on this part for way too long so enjoy 💀

Y/N = your name // L/N = last name // Y/N/N = your nickname // E/C = eye colour // H/L = hair length // H/C = hair colour

Series Masterlist // Prologue // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

One day, you were messaging Poe, thinking he’ll get back to you quickly like he always does. Except, he didn’t. At first, you don’t think much of it; he’s probably busy working with the Resistance, or maybe he’s back into running spices. But then one day of waiting turns into two. Two days turns into three. Three days becomes a week, which becomes two weeks, which becomes a month.

Nightmares start coming back after that first month of radio silence from Poe. Back when you lived with your family, the nightmares were about them. Now? Fear of losing Poe. Every single dream you have may start out great; you and Poe hanging out and chatting like you always do. Then, typically, he gets called away on a mission for the Resistance. Your nightmare always decides to show you a visual of his x-wing blowing up with him and his astromech droid BB-8 in it, or Poe making the sacrifice play.

Just like every morning, you wake up in a cold sweat. You crawl out of bed and sit at your desk with your radio and record a message for Poe.

“Hey, man. This is… what, the thirty-second day without hearing from you? I won’t lie to you, I’m pretty worried. I know the Resistance is keeping you busy. Of course they are, you’re one of the best pilots in the galaxy. I just… well, it would be nice to hear you’re alive once and a while, you know? I’m not really up for losing my best and only friend. Anyways, things are going pretty well here. Making some money, which is nice. Miss you. If you hear this, take care of yourself, please? I can’t lose you.” You clear your throat. “Answer when you can. I’ll be here. Probably.”

————————

You and Poe were out of contact for a year and a half. You weren’t quite sure what he was up to, but you know you spent every damned day of that year and a half thinking about him, leaving him messages.

Out of the blue, you had lost your best friend. Your only friend.

On your eighteenth birthday, your parents take you to a casino in Canto Bight on Cantonica, though you’d rather be anywhere but there. While your parents got a room, you stood awkwardly in the lobby waiting and wishing you could just leave. Everyone here are your parents’ kind of people; people who got rich by working for or with the First Order. This is your parents’ idea of a good birthday event, though, so here you are.

Your E/C eyes scan the crowded room boredly, hoping not to make eye contact with anyone. Or anything, for that matter. Then, your gaze rests on a young man with dark hair and the most breathtaking eyes. Well, they’re only breathtaking to you, really. You would stare into those brown eyes of nostalgia all day if you could, but you’re almost too startled to comprehend who’s eyes you believe they are.

Your eyes make you think it’s him.

“Poe?” You call out. The young man looks around and you get a better look at his face. It’s definitely Poe. “Poe!” You shout again. He keeps looking, but can’t seem to find you. You start to weave through the crowd, muttering apologies as you go. Then, a small group of Houks passes you and you lose sight of Poe for a second. By the time they move out of the way, you see the back of his leather jacket as he slips out the entrance.

“Poe!” You holler, now pushing urgently through the crowd. From what you can see through the translucent doors, he makes no show of turning back, still walking away. You rush out the doors and proceed to be drenched with the rain – and you had just started to fucking dry off. Dammit.

You look around desperately as either water or tears or both streak down your face. Your hair gets flattened to your head and in your face as you look around. Even in the layers you’re wearing, you begin to shiver in the cold, wet air.

Dejectedly, you slip back into the casino and shake your head like a wet dog to get rid of some water. What you didn’t know in that moment was that a certain Resistance pilot was watching from afar, making sure it really was who he so desperately hoped it was calling after him.

————————

One morning weeks later, you wake up in a cold sweat after a long night out with your family at a different casino, this one on Corulag. Your parents had been making a deal with the owner over something you decided you didn’t care enough to attend the meeting about. You’ve snooped through their files already anyway.

It was another nightmare, of course, that woke you. You’ve been having them for so long that you’re not entirely sure when they started, maybe a few years ago or something; you had started having bad dreams about the shit your family would get up to working in favour of the First Order.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the remnants of the nightmare. Your feet hit the warm carpeted floor of your bedroom in your family’s home on Coruscant. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you pad out towards the bathroom, flinching a bit when your feet make contact with the cold tile. You shiver a little, your bare torso having to adjust to the temperature drop in the cool room.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, combing your fingers through your H/L H/C hair, frowning at yourself.

You peer at the symbol tattooed on your cheekbone. You’ve been feared by some because of it. A great many people are terrified of your family, for the system they created. Whenever you go out on your own, you cover it with your sister’s makeup.

You tilt your chin up, looking at the scars on your neck from a fight a couple years ago after a pod race, your second big circuit. You’ve learned to hide them. You were sort of proud of them, if you’re being honest. You got them for a good reason. The tattooed symbol on your cheek? All you feel is shame from it.

You sigh and look away from the mirror, shedding your pyjama pants and getting in the shower.

————————

It doesn’t take you long to pack. You knew your parents were going out today on another meeting in a whole other system; it was your chance.

You pack two bags, one with clothes and one with belongings. Then, you return to the bathroom with some of your sister Aria’s makeup, which you’d stolen from her bathroom earlier. You carefully cover the symbol on your cheekbone just like you do all the time, even though you were planning on wearing a hat and a hood anyway.

There’s a knock on your door, and you freeze in place. Then, someone speaks.

“Y/N/N?”

Your heart soars and your jaw drops at the sound of the voice. You immediately rush across the room and tap the button to open the door. Your gaze meets the brown eyes that always bring back memories.

“Poe?”

Poe Dameron is leaning against your doorframe, breathing heavily like he ran across the planet to get here. “I don’t have much time-”

“Yeah, no shit!” You drag him into your room and close the door. “What the fuck are you doing here? You can’t be here, why are you here?

“That’s a lot of questions,” he states.

“I have a few hundred more, starting with why didn’t you answer me for over a year and why did I see you in Canto Bight, followed by why the fuck didn’t you see me?”

“Y/N/N, I will answer all your questions as soon as possible but I need to tell you what I came here to tell you, so can you shut up and listen for a sec?”

“First of all-”

“I’m sorry, I need to-”

“You can’t tell me to shut up when I’ve-”

“This is really important-”

Another knock on your door startles both of you into silence. “Y/N?” Your dad calls out. “You alright, son?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Dad, why?” You answer, masking your anxiety about Poe being in your room, in your house, this close to your shit family.

“I just heard some yelling. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep! Just this thing I’m working on, I was watching a video someone made as an instruction manual and the guys in the video started fighting for some reason.”

“…Okay,” you dad replies unsurely. “Well, your mother and I are heading out for the deal. Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

“I’m sure! I wanna get this project finished. You guys have fun, though!”

You hear your father’s footsteps recede, and you exhale sharply. “Okay. You have a lot of explaining to do, starting with whatever the fuck you’re saying is so important.”

“I’ve been promoted to Commander in the Resistance,” Poe says quickly.

You blink. “Dude.”

“What?”

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Dude, why didn’t you call me? Poe, that’s amazing!” You hug him with the biggest grins on both your faces and he hugs you back. For some reason, you’re acutely aware of just how exactly his arms are around you. You can feel one of his arms around your waist with his hand on your side. His other hand is bracing your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

He’s hugging you like you’re about to disappear into thin air, never to be seen again.

After a moment, you realize you’re hugging him that tight too.

“I’ve missed you,” Poe says, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “So much. You have no idea, Y/N/N, oh my god.”

You laugh, then realize there are tears rolling down your cheeks. No wonder your eyes are stinging. “Fuck,” you mumble. “Sorry, I’m getting your jacket all wet with my stupid tears.” You try to pull away but Poe holds on tighter.

“I don’t care.”

You smile even more, gripping his jacket even tighter. After another long moment, the two of you pull apart. “Is that all you came to tell me?”

“What?”

“That you joined the Resistance, is that all you came to tell me?”

“Wh- no, actually. Your parents.”

Your nose wrinkles. “What about my parents?”

“They’re worse than either of us even thought. I went through a bunch of records with the general and all those deals? Big big deals for the First Order. Your parents and their system are one of their number one suppliers of, like, everything. Even stormtroopers.”

“Stormtroopers? How? I thought they were raised to be troopers from birth.”

“Yep.” Poe stares at you, waiting for it to process in your mind. It finally sets in and you turn to Poe in horror. He nods. “Yeah.”

“My parents are baby smugglers?” You whisper.

“Unfortunately. Still, though, not entirely why I’m here.”

You frown. “What the fuck else could you need to tell me? Poe, you’re not making any sense anymore, man.” You walk back to your bed to make sure you’ve got everything you need in your bag, one last once over.

“I have an offer,” Poe says.

You scoff. “Yeah? And what would that be?”

“A place in the Rebellion.”

You freeze in place, one hand still in your bag. Thoughts run through your mind, scenarios of everything that could happen if you do the one thing you’ve wanted to do for as long as you could remember: join the Rebellion.

“Y/N/N?” Poe murmurs.

You still don’t answer, standing there by your bed with your hand in your bag.

“Hey,” your best friend whispers, carefully walking over to you. “Talk to me. What’s going through your mind right now?”

“I can’t,” you say, so quiet that Poe barely hears you.

“What d’you mean you can’t?”

“I mean I was about to ditch this place tonight,” you say, your normal tone returning. You turn around to face him. “My parents know I’m still sympathetic to the Rebellion, they’d tear you lot down to pieces looking for me. I can’t let that happen.”

“But you could fight against them instead of running, Y/N/N, please,” Poe mutters, gradually getting closer and closer to you.

“Poe, please.” You feel another tear slip down your cheek and you make no effort to wipe it away. The makeup you’d used to cover your family symbol is probably washed away by now with how much you’ve cried since opening the door for Poe.

“Y/N/N, we need you and you need out of here. Even if you don’t want to fight yet.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do for the Resistance if not fight?”

“Intelligence operative? I dunno! The possibilities are endless but the point is, you can join us. We can see each other again and I won’t lose contact.”

“You still haven’t explained that,” you say.

“Deep undercover missions,” Poe replies. “I’ve been sent on a few. In between that, I’m flying into battle against the First Order and believe me, you are the only person I’d like to talk to before or during or after a battle and I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

“Couldn’t,” Poe emphasizes. “My radio, the one we were using from The Edge to talk, it was smashed and I got so busy I was never given a chance to fix it.”

“…Okay, that’s fair,” you decide, the little bit of resentment you held for Poe’s lack of communication ebbing away a little. “What about Canto Bight? That was you, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” he says slowly. “I saw you.”

“Bullshit, if you saw me, you would have talked to me!”

“I couldn’t bring myself to!” Poe exclaims desperately, starting to pace around the room. “After unintentionally blowing you off for so long, I was scared you’d be mad at me.”

“I was,” you say softly, barely holding back more tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. “Poe, you were all I had. You are all I have. I can’t have friends with the family I’ve got, with the person I am- I won’t let myself! Then, I let myself get close to you and maybe this is bold of me to say but you were my lifeline, you have been for a long time. So yeah, I was mad at you but I was furious with myself for letting all that happen, for allowing myself to be hurt like that and I want to be mad at you still.” You scoff. “Gods, I want to be so mad at you right now but I can’t bring myself to be angry with you.”

“Come to the Resistance,” Poe whispers.

You close your eyes and tears are released. “I can’t. I can’t let my family hurt you or them in the ways I know they will. It’s safer for me to leave, Poe. You don’t understand.”

“Y/N/N…”

There’s a knock on your door. “Mr. L/N?” It’s one of your parents’ servants, Daymien. You’d recognize his voice anywhere. “Are you alright in there?”

“Yeah, Day, I’m fine!” You shout back.

“May I come in?”

“That depends, have my parents left?”

“Long gone, sir.”

“C’mon in, then,” you answer. Poe looks at you like you grew three heads in that moment. “Relax, Poe, he’s more loyal to me than them.”

The door slides open and Daymien steps in, closing the door behind him. “Greetings, Mr. L/N. Your shuttle is ready in the hangar downstairs. Your parents have already left for their deal, so you have time.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, shaking his hand and clasping his shoulder. “Keep in touch.”

“Of course.”

You turn to Poe, not really sure what to do with yourself. He smiles almost sadly. “Go on, Y/N/N,” he says gently. “We’ll meet again, I know it.”

As you quickly make your way down to the hangar, you think about what Poe said.

We’ll meet again.

That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? You’ve already met, but now you want nothing more than to stay with him. Fuck parting ways. You want it to be safe enough for the both of you to be together for a while.

You climb into your shuttle, setting yourself up for a long flight to… well, you’re not sure where yet. All you know is that you need to get far away from here and far away from Poe. You won’t let him get hurt because of you.

————————

[Poe’s POV]

I haven’t left Y/N’s place yet, still standing on the balcony of his room. I was just gonna stay to watch him take off but I haven’t moved.

“Sir? Mr. Dameron?”

I turn around to see Daymien is still here. “Sorry,” I say to him. “I should probably go, shouldn’t I?”

“Before you do, though, sir, I have a question, of sorts, for you.”

I frown. “For me?”

“Yes, it’s about Y/N. About the both of you, really,” Daymien says, wringing his hands. “I’ve been really worried about him lately, especially after the two of you lost contact. He’s been… well, he’s been different.”

“Different? Different how?”

“He’s… he’s quiet, he’s reserved. I always see him with plans and books, blueprints and stuff. I just, I dunno, ever since you two stopped talking, he’s been weird. You gotta take care of him, Poe, please.”

“Y/N can take care of himself, we both know that.”

“That’s not the point,” Daymien replies. “He’s in danger and he’s not-”

“Danger? What danger? What’s wrong?” I ask immediately. Daymien hesitates. “Dude, come on, I need to know.”

“Not long after you guys lost contact, his parents got him in with the wrong crowd. Well, more like crowds, plural. He made some enemies while you were gone and he pissed off a lot of people with his political stances; siding with the Resistance and all.”

“Then he’s in danger out there on his own!” I exclaim.

“Poe-”

“I-I’ve, I’ve gotta radio him, I should-”

“Poe-”

“…be out there with him, I-”

“Poe!” Daymien says loudly. I shut up. “You can’t do that.”

“What? No, that’s bull- that’s bullshit, man, I need to be there for him! I can’t lose him again, please!” I take a deep breath when I realize that there are hot tears streaming down my face. “Daymien, I have to help him.”

“Poe, I’m sorry,” Daymien says quietly. “We can’t help him now, you can’t make contact. But I need you to keep an eye on him. You need to give him time, though. He needs time.”

“Fuck time,” I say, marching towards the door. “I don’t need time.”

“What do you need, then?” Daymien calls after me. I stop as the door opens and look back at him, tears still staining my cheeks.

“I need him.”

[hinasho]

Sanzu Explains Akkun

Some Things To Take Note Of:

This post is NOT about Akkun pushing Takemichi onto the train tracks. That makes sense. It's a manipulative power play by Kisaki to have one of Takemichi's former friends be his murderer. It fits both Kisaki's personality and Akkun's underling status at the time. This post is about Akkun guessing about Takemichi's time leaping ability.

This is a LOOSE theory. It is not neat and I don’t have all the nuts and bolts figured out. This is just something that’s been on my mind that I think may have merit.

➼ intro.

(Season 1, Episode 4)

"This probably sounds insane... But you can go back into the past, can't you?" - Akkun, Season 1 Episode 4

I've always been confused how Akkun jumped to "time travel" so quickly. No normal person would randomly accuse someone of that, especially since Takemichi hasn't shown any hints about being a time traveler during their reunion on the rooftop. They were just joking about smelly farts ffs.

An Argument: "Akkun is unstable, so his mind jumping to irregular conclusions makes sense."

Now in this future (Takemichi saves Naoto + meets Mikey), Akkun is unstable. He's been living in fear for years - so terrified of Kisaki's corrupted Toman, that when ordered to murder one of his childhood friends in broad daylight, he does it.

So the above argument is fine. Akkun's psyche is all over the place at this point in time, so rushing to an unbelievable belief isn't too ridiculous. But the fact it's SPOT ON feels like way too much of a coincidence. For a long time, I believed it was just Wakui's way of forcing in a twist. A "betcha didn't see that one coming!" kind've move.

But after reading about Shinichiro, the Original Timeline, and Sanzu's role in it, Akkun knowing about time travel makes a lot more sense.

➼ sanzu and shinichiro.

(Chapter 273)

"You got two different memories?"

"Yeah... I was just at your funeral a few days ago. Mikey died and Shin-nii jumped off into the river. But then suddenly, I was back home and a new memory of the past appeared. You were supposed to be a nurse, but now you're a mechanic at a bike shop..." - Sanzu talking to Shinichiro, Chapter 273

In the timeline Shinichiro created, the one we start the series from, Sanzu has contrasting memories.

An Argument: "Of course Sanzu has contrasting memories, he became Shinichiro's trigger. Like how Naoto was for Takemichi."

Very true! Whenever Takemichi leaped to the present day, Naoto recovered his memories of all the timelines he was Takemichi's Trigger.

But if it was just about being the Trigger, then Sanzu would talk more about his scars. About just being in the hospital because that was his "last" memory from before Shinichiro's return to the present. But he doesn't. Instead, he talks about the ORIGINAL timeline where Shinichiro committed suicide.

To compare to Naoto, after he becomes Takemichi's Trigger, he makes no reference to any of the events of Takemichi's original timeline. He refers to Hinata's death and the things that carry over into the timelines afterwards, but there's no proof he remembers the timeline before he became Takemichi's trigger. He does not mention what his occupation was in the original future (he couldn't have been a cop because he only became it to save Hinata), or any other information like it. So I don't think it's a reach to say Naoto likely does not remember the original timeline.

So if Naoto didn't, why did Sanzu? Because Sanzu was more than just Shinichiro's trigger.

➼ a fourth.

When it comes to time leaping, 3 roles have been established - the Leaper, the Trigger, and the Rescuee/Victim. I now believe there is a 4th, more subtle role:

The Leaper - Shinichiro, Takemichi

The Trigger - Sanzu, Naoto, Mikey

The Rescuee - Hinata, Mikey

The Witness - Sanzu, Akkun

Both Sanzu and Akkun were prime witnesses during the First Death of the Leaper.

Just so we're all on the same page:

I'm working under the basis that in order for a time leaper to first leap, they must die. They will receive the ability from a previous Leaper (Shin from the old man, Takemichi from Shin), but it will remain dormant until they die in some way (Shin from suicide, Michi from the train). They must pay the cost to leap with their lives.

After they pay that toll, which I'll be referring to as "The First Death", they no longer need to die to time leap. They simply need a Trigger, the first person who's life they significantly change.

So back to the post, Sanzu and Akkun were witnesses to The First Death, the ironic beginning or "birth" of the Leaper.

Unlike the Trigger, the Witness maintains their memories of that original timeline. What's unclear in my theory (sorry!) is if they retain the memories of all the timelines in between. After Takemichi's fourth time leap in Chapter 30 / Episode 11 (after saving Draken), Akkun has become a hairstylist.

He makes no mention of his suicide, of Draken previously being dead, nothing. He and Takemichi do not have a conversation regarding time travel at all. However, when he rams the truck into Hinata's car, he repeats the exact same lines he said to Takemichi when he committed suicide in Chapter 8 / Episode 4. He even says, "Please save everyone, our crybaby hero." Making it clear he knows of time travel in some regard, but not exactly which or how many timelines he remembers.

Did he repeat those lines because he remembers the first time he's said them? Or was it simply to show the future hasn't changed and Akkun was still dealing with the same circumstances? I don't know.

I'm personally leaning towards the latter - that Akkun does not actually remember saying them. It wouldn't surprise me if this was a key difference between the role of the Trigger and of the Witness. The Trigger remembers everything except the original timeline, whereas the Witness remembers nothing except the original timeline.

This is an interesting contrast, similar to how the Leaper needs a Trigger to time leap in all the timelines after The First Death, but not before it. Meanwhile, the Leaper needs a Witness to time leap during The First Death, but for none of the time leaps after it.

But this point is purely speculation.

➼ why not others?

An Argument: "Sanzu was the only one on the bridge with Shinichiro. But Akkun and Takemichi were in a public train station surrounded by tons of people. Wouldn't they count as 'witnesses' too?"

Good question Debater In My Head! Yes, it's true Akkun and Michi were surrounded by tons of people. However, what makes Akkun and Sanzu unique are two things:

An already established relationship with the Leaper

A wish for the Leaper to not die

When it comes to time leaping, a LOT of it hinges on connections + intentions. Triggers are created when the Leaper forms a connection by significantly changing someone's life. From then on, Leapers cannot time leap without he and the Trigger having the same intentions.

"This is just a theory, but... without strongly believing that I want to change the past, I probably can't function as the trigger." - Naoto to Takemichi, Chapter 197 (Bonten future)

(Season 1, Episode 4)

(Chapter 271, Panel was cropped because of it's size)

Akkun and Sanzu fulfill the first part of the requirements. They have an established relationship with Takemichi and Shinichiro respectively.

Sanzu also clearly doesn't want Shinichiro to die. Akkun is a much subtler case.

"I've been waiting for you to show up, Takemichi"

"I wonder how things ended up like this..."

[...] "I'm scared. I'm terrified of Kisaki."

[...] "I'm rooting for you Takemichi." - Akkun, Season 1 Episode 4

The only reason Akkun pushed Takemichi was out of fear. Later on, he is grateful Takemichi is still alive. So it's pretty clear that while he pushed Takemichi onto the tracks, he had no genuine desire for Takemichi to die and wished things had not turned out the way they had.

So with Akkun fulfilling both of my theorized “requirements”, it makes sense that he’d fall into the same role as Sanzu while the other bystanders would not.

➼ bonus - chifuyu.

I have a theory that Chifuyu may have become the Witness of the time leap at the end of the series, ergo why he remembers all the chaos that happened. But I'm still uncertain of that one, to be honest.

My theory regarding what exactly happened between Takemichi, Mikey, and Chifuyu is short, but messy so I will save that for another time.

➼ conclusion.

Akkun's "guess" about time travel always felt off to me because of how sudden it is. But with this theory that he remembers actually killing Takemichi because he remembers the original timeline, it makes a lot more sense. Well, in my opinion at least.

If you've read this far, thank you! I hope all this makes some kind've sense.

[sequinsmile-x]

All's Fair - Chapter 5

Emily and Aaron have loved each other since they were children. War might be the thing that finally brings them together, but it could also be the thing that tears them apart forever.

A Hotchniss AU, set in 1917 and beyond.

-x-

Thank you so much for the love for this fic. It means so much more than I can put into words!!

Please let me know what you think of this chapter <3

Special shout out to @cloudlessly-light who, when I said I thought this chapter was going to get away from me, was able to correctly guess how many words it was going to be haha

-x-

Words: 6.5k

A list of warnings and tags can be found on the Series Master List

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily, 

I love you. I can’t think of a better way to say after the telegram I just received. I love you, and Mae, so much.

I’m so proud of you, and so relieved you’re ok. If what I’ve felt worrying about you is only a fraction of how you have felt since I left then I think I’ll be apologising for the rest of our lives. 

I wish I could be there, I wish I could meet her and hold you both. I only hope that one day, if we’re lucky enough, I can be there with you every step of the way. 

All my love,

Aaron 

___

Aaron, 

I know Mother had Rossi send you a telegram, but I also wanted to write. Mae is right next to me, fast asleep as if she’s the one who’s had a tiring day!! Although I suppose being born isn’t easy. 

She looks so much like you. I know she’s only a few hours old, and babies don’t really look like anyone, but all I can think about when I look at her is you. 

I do think she’ll end up cursed with my nose though. 

I wish you were here. You not being here is familiar to me now, and missing you has become part of my daily life, but I haven’t felt it this sharply in quite some time. 

I need you to see her. So that, if the worst ever happens, I can tell her that you met. 

Stay safe.

All our love,

Emily and Mae

___

Aaron, 

I just received your letter, and I imagine you just got mine. Maybe one day letters will be instant or at least take less time to arrive. 

Mae is 4 weeks old now. She’s grown so much already. She only really sleeps if she’s in my arms. She eats constantly, or at least it feels that way. Mother says I spoil her, but I don’t see how it’s possible to love someone too much.

She knows I hate that you can’t see Mae, so Mother organised for a photographer to come to the house. It was nice of her, but of course, in typical Elizabeth fashion, she did manage to comment on the outfit I chose for myself (my old clothes feel like they’ll never fit again!) and for Mae.

I’ve put a photo of the two of us in this letter. I hope it helps remind you of what you have waiting here.

All our Love,

Emily and Mae 

___

April 1918

“I don’t understand why I have to go.” 

Elizabeth sighs, watching her daughter as she paces back and forth with her own daughter in her arms. 

“Because it’s the start of the social season, Emily. Surely you remember what that means.” 

Emily smiles politely, her eyes fixed on Mae in her arms, the three-month-old refusing to settle for her nap. Her stubborn streak was obvious already, something she had inherited from both of her parents.

“What I remember is you hiding me away last year so I didn’t embarrass you any more than I already had.” 

“Because you’d just eloped, even though your engagement to another man was meant to be announced just a few weeks later.” 

Emily sighs, clenching her teeth tightly to stop herself from responding, not wanting to start an argument. 

It was hard to believe it had been a year since she and Aaron got married. Life looked so different now, and sometimes it felt like Mae was the only proof it had ever happened. If she didn’t exist, tangible evidence of their love for each other, Emily was sure their night together would feel like a dream. The memory of his touch was just out of reach. She longed to remember how it felt to simply hold his hand. 

It had been a little too long since she’d heard from him. Panic tingling through her veins in a way she desperately tries to ignore whenever she thinks about it. She’d re-read the letters she already had from him more times than she could count. The paper worn thin on the first couple, almost torn at the edges from where she had unfolded and refolded them so many times. She knew them by heart. His words now, the things they’d barely had the chance to say to each other's faces, were as familiar to her as he was. 

There were days when she felt as fragile as the paper that held their story. Easily fryable, tearing apart at the edges in a way she should have known only Aaron was capable of doing to her. On other days she felt strong, made of steel as she forged her way forward for her and her daughter, determined to make a good life for her little girl, even if she never got to have her father as part of it. 

Every day that passed without a letter, a gentle shake of Dave’s head as he brought her mother the mail in the morning, she feels herself get more anxious. More familiar with the thought that maybe he’d never make it back at all. 

Emily clears her throat, trying to rid herself of all the things she knew she couldn’t afford to feel. 

“And what about Mae, who’s going to look after her whilst I’m downstairs at a party?” 

“Well since you refused to hire a nanny,” Elizabeth says, her raised eyebrow the closest she’d come to expressing her feelings on the matter, “I spoke to JJ, and she agreed to sit in here with her whilst you are downstairs.” 

Emily looks down at Mae, smiling softly when she sees the baby is now fast asleep. JJ was one of the only people she’d trust her daughter with completely, and Elizabeth knew that. 

“Ok,” Emily says, looking up at her mother, “I’ll go.”

___

Emily remembered clearly the first time she’d had to go to one of these events. Her mother had finally deemed her old enough to go, no longer worried that she’d be too young, or cause embarrassment. It was the first time she’d felt like she was on display. 

She was eleven.

She had been introduced to people she now saw frequently, members of her mother’s inner circle that had never done anything other than make her feel trapped. She’d spent the whole night wishing she’d been allowed to run around the estate with Aaron and Sean like she used to be able to, staying out until long after the sun had disappeared over the horizon, coming home with grass stains on her clothes that her mother hated. 

She finds herself missing Aaron now for completely different reasons. He’d never been to one of her mother’s parties, and part of her wanted to bring him to one. To stand in the corner with him and watch him watch this, a part of her life he’d never fully understood because he was always standing on the edge of it, watching from outside. 

She knows if he makes it back, he’d be part of it now. Standing by her side as her husband, the support she’d always needed but had never been sure how to ask for. 

She stands at the edge of the party, her back practically against the wall as she nurses a small glass of wine. It felt wrong, watching everyone dance and laugh as if there wasn’t a war raging on elsewhere. She knew she wasn’t the only person who had someone out there. A lot of the men she’d grown up with were in France too, their parents in the room with her, a tightness in their expressions that she could relate to. 

It felt like she was being watched. An item of curiosity that she hadn’t felt like the very first time when she was a young girl. People would smile politely at her before turning away, clearly talking about her choices. The husband no one had ever met. The baby who was sleeping soundly upstairs. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, Emily Prentiss.” 

She looks up, the accent immediately making her tense. She locks eyes with the man she should have married, the one her mother still made comments about as if she didn’t know exactly what he was like. 

“Ian, it has been a long time,” she replies tightly, her society smile spreading across her face, “And it’s Hotchner now. Has been for a little while.” 

“Of course,” he says, his smile letting her know that he’d purposely got her name wrong. He looks her up and down, his eyes lingering in a way that makes her feel uncomfortable, but she doesn’t show it. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Didn’t you have a baby recently?” 

“I did,” she replies, taking a sip of her wine, “She’s three months old.”

He hums, looking her up and down again before his eyes meet hers, something about the icy blueness of them makes her recoil, her back pressing further into the wall.

“It’s a shame we never got a chance to be together,” he says, smirking, “We could have been great,” he leans in and kisses her cheek, his breath skipping across her skin making her clench her teeth, his hand briefly at her waist, “If you ever get bored of that husband of yours, or if he never makes it back,” he says, pulling back, his smirk wider, “You know where to find me.” 

She feels a fire in her belly, her grip on her drink tightening to the point she’s surprised the glass doesn’t break in her hand. Disgust flows through her veins, spreading through her whole body and she knows from how Ian smiles at her she doesn’t hide it either, her face giving away exactly how she feels. 

“You are such-”

“Emily.”

She turns, cut off from her insult by her mother, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She blows out a short sharp breath, her fake smile plastered back on her face as she turns to look at her. She doesn’t think she’s ever been more grateful to see her, or for her timing. 

“Yes, Mother?”

“I need to borrow you for a moment,” she says, looking between Emily and Ian, “I am so sorry to whisk her away, Ian. It’s important.” 

“No problem, Elizabeth,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek too, smiling as he pulls back, “I think we were done here anyway.”

Emily glares at him but lets herself get led away by her mother, away from the ballroom where the party was being held. She feels less tense the further away they get, the sound of the revellers and the music fading as they make it towards her mother’s office.

“God, I cannot believe that is the man you wanted me to marry. He is awful,” she complains, shivering as she thinks of his hand on her waist, his foul breath on her skin. She frowns when she realises they’ve come to a stop, her mother standing outside of her office, an expression on her face that Emily cannot read, “What’s going on?”

“There’s someone here who wants to speak to you,” Elizabeth says, clearing her throat in a poor attempt to hide a smile, “It couldn’t wait until the end of the party.”  Emily frowns, her confusion only deepening further as her mother steps away, “I should get back, and leave you to it.” 

Emily watches her walk away, her gaze fixed on her mother until she disappears from sight. She looks back at the office door and stares at it for a moment, before opening it.

She freezes, her hand still tight around the door handle as the person in the room turns to look at her. 

He was skinnier. Some of the strength she had always admired was gone, obvious even through his green uniform. Their eyes meet and she feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

“Aaron?”

___

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d last been here.

The year that had elapsed in between both the shortest and the longest of his life. When he arrives at the front door, the sound of a party echoing outwards from within, he feels a sense of anger he hadn’t anticipated. 

Life went on, he knew that. The sun carried on rising despite everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through since he was last here, but it felt wrong. Life was carrying on as normal as if men weren’t dying in droves on another continent. He blows out a steady breath as he knocks on the door. It’s answered immediately, a person he doesn’t recognise looking him up and down.

“This is a private event,” he snaps, eyeing Aaron’s uniform with suspicion. 

“I used to work here,” he says, shaking his head at himself for that being the first thing he’d said, “I’m married to the daughter of the lady of the house.” 

The man narrows his eyes even further, before closing the door. Aaron sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he thinks of his choices. He knew which room was Emily’s and he wasn’t above trying to sneak into the main house.

The door is opened again and he’s face to face with Elizabeth, her eyes wide with the closest thing to shock he’d ever seen her express. She’s dressed up, and has clearly been pulled from the party she was hosting to confirm his identity. 

“Aaron.” She says, looking him up and down, and he doesn’t miss the fact this is the first time they’ve interacted since she became his mother-in-law, “I think you’d better come in. We have a lot to talk about.”

___

Emily can’t take her eyes off him. She can’t move, can’t blink. Worried that the slightest shift will make him disappear. 

“What…” she drifts off, unable to formulate her thoughts, the words stuck in her throat as she continues to stare at him. Her vision becomes blurry, tears falling onto her cheeks and she finally releases her grip from the door handle, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, grateful when the door closes behind her, leaving them, for the first time in too long, alone. He takes the opportunity to look at her, to take in how beautiful she is. His memory had done her a disservice, as it always had when he tried to picture her, and the photo he kept in his pocket didn’t come close to showing how captivating she was. She looked tired, something he was sure had to do with their daughter he was yet to meet. 

“What are you doing here?” She chokes out. She stops just a couple of paces in front of him, her hand stopping in mid-air as she stops herself from touching him, still not entirely sure this was real. That he wouldn’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

“I had some leave. I spent most of it getting here, and will spend the rest of it getting back,” he explains, his hands twitching to reach out for her, to hold her like he had dreamt of for a year, but he knows he needs to take it at her pace, “I just had to see you. Both of you.” 

“How long are you here?” She asks, the sound of the party just down the hall muffled, as if it was miles away, her entire focus on here. On him.

“Two days at most,” he replies, hating the way her face falls, the way he can already see the grief gathering in her eyes. 

“It’s a hell of a long way to come for two days,” she says, her eyes searching his face as she takes one step closer, still not touching him.

“You and Mae are worth it.” 

She’s not sure if it’s the sentiment, or the fact it’s the first time she’s ever heard him say their daughter’s name, but that’s what breaks her. She closes the gap between them and buries her face in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him as he pulls her closer. He smells different, the soap he’s used clearly a cheap one that the army supply on masse, and now she’s hugging him she can feel that he’s skinnier, that whatever he’s eating out there isn’t enough, especially when she considers what he’s doing. She makes a mental note to ask Dave to get the cook to make whatever Aaron wants whilst he’s here. 

“I missed you so much,” she says, her face still pressed against his scratchy uniform, not sure how she can let go now she’s holding him. 

“I missed you too,” he replies, leaning down and kissing the top of her head, comforted by the familiar scent of her soap, something that he had fallen in love with years ago.

“It’s been so long since I got a letter,” she says, pulling back to look at him but making no attempt to move out of his arms, “I thought…” she can’t put it into words, doesn’t want to say what she’d assumed. 

He finally leans down and kisses her, his lips familiar against hers, and she grasps at the lapels of his jacket, holding him close.

“I have a letter for you, I thought I’d hand deliver it,” he mutters, kissing her again and she pulls back, her eyebrows pulled together indignantly as she narrows her eyes at him. She uses one of the hands buried in wool to lightly slap his chest. 

“You ass,” she says, kissing him despite her words, her forehead pressing into his before she pulls back, “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies, one of his hands cupping her cheek, holding her in place, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she kisses him once more before she pulls away, one of her hands seeking out his, not wanting to lose their connection even for a moment, “Come on, there’s someone you’ve got to meet.” 

___

Emily is, as ever, grateful for JJ’s discretion. She looks shocked as Aaron follows Emily into her room, but doesn’t make any comment apart from explaining Mae had slept since she had gone downstairs before she leaves. 

Aaron smiles tightly at the other woman, his usual politeness nowhere to be found, no consideration for the woman who used to be his colleague, as all of his focus is on his wife and daughter. As soon as they are alone, the bedroom door closing softly behind JJ, Aaron finds his voice, once again surprised at the first thing he says. 

“I thought your room was on the other side of the house.” 

Emily turns to look at him, a soft smile on her face, “It was,” she says squeezing his hand in hers, “Mother moved me here. Said its ‘more fitting for a married woman,’” she says, rolling her eyes, “But it has an adjoining room for Mae,” she adds, tilting her head towards the door that leads to it, “Which is nice when she cries in the middle of the night, it means she’s never too far away.”

She steps towards him and presses her lips to his cheek, desperate to re-familiarise herself with as much of him as possible, all too aware that yet again she had very little time to do so. 

“Are you ready?” She asks softly, squeezing his hand as he nods.

“I think so.” 

She smiles and gently tugs him towards Mae’s room, pushing the adjoining door open before she flicks on the light. Emily wouldn’t be able to explain her own nervousness even if she wanted to, butterflies in her stomach and her heart pounding in her ears as she prepares to introduce the two people who mean the most to her to each other.

She wonders if she would have felt this way if he’d been here when Mae was born. If the nervous excitement would have been the same, or if the relief she’d felt at Mae’s safe arrival would have overridden it all. 

She hopes one day, if they are lucky, that she’d find out. 

Emily smiles as she sees Mae shifting around, sharp movements in her limbs as she grunts, a sign that she had only just woken up, probably to the sound of the short conversation they’d had with JJ. She disconnects from Aaron, letting go of his hand for the first time since she’d held it downstairs, and reaches into the bassinet to pick up Mae, the familiar weight of her daughter in her arms a comfort she hadn’t known she’d needed. 

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, well aware of Aaron’s gaze fixed on them, the back of her neck burning with it.” She kisses the top of Mae’s head and turns to face Aaron, making sure the baby was facing him too, so he could see them both, “There’s someone here to meet you.” 

For once, she doesn’t berate herself for the crack in her voice, for the tears that press at the back of her eyes. The shock of finally seeing Aaron, of having what she’s wanted for so long, finally settling in. 

Aaron feels like he’s rooted to the ground. His body not moving as he simply stares at the two of them together, held in place by love and so many things he can’t put a name to. Mae was beautiful. Everything about her reminded him of Emily, as if Mae was a tiny version of her mother, right down to the slope of her nose and the small dimples in her cheeks. The tiny photo Emily had sent hadn’t done her justice, and he knew even if it had she would have changed so much since then anyway. 

“Em…she’s…”

She smiles at him and makes the decision to move towards him. She encourages him to put his arms out and places Mae in his embrace. She places one hand on Aaron’s arm and the other supports Mae’s head. 

“Aaron, this is Mae,” she says, a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob catching in her throat as she rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, not able to tear her eyes off of their daughter in his arms. A sight she’d dreamt of for months, “Mae, this is your daddy.” 

Emily feels a tear drop onto the top of her head, and looks up to see tracks on Aaron’s cheeks, his eyes shining. She reaches up, wiping at his skin before wrapping both of her arms around one of his, her head back against his shoulder. 

“She’s beautiful,” he says, his voice tight, “She looks just like you,” he lifts her up, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s head, “She smells like you.” 

“I use my soap on her too,” Emily hums, turning her head just enough to press a kiss against his clothed shoulder, “I’ve always thought she looks just like you.”

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one,” he says, looking away from his daughter for just long enough to kiss the top of Emily’s head. He looks back at Mae, desperately trying to remember everything he can about her, smiling as she puts her fist in her mouth, “You did get one thing right though.” 

“What’s that?” She asks, reaching out and grabbing Mae’s hand, knowing it was almost time to feed her. 

“She definitely has your nose.” 

___

She allows herself, for a little while, to believe it was real. That he was back for good. That this was her life now. 

She just wanted one day with him that wasn’t tinged with sadness, with the reality that he wasn’t hers to keep, at least not for now, so she gives it to herself. 

They wake up early, woken by a cranky Mae demanding her first meal of the day before they head down for breakfast themselves. Elizabeth raises her eyebrow at Aaron but says nothing else about his reappearance. It’s only later, when they are walking the grounds just the two of them and Mae, that he tells her about his conversation with her mother the night before. How she wasn’t as mad as he’d expected, her fury somewhat diminished by her love for her granddaughter. 

The day passes too quickly for Emily’s liking. A taste of what could be, what should be, as he helps her with Mae. She doesn’t miss the sadness that crosses his face whenever the baby cries when she’s with him, quietening immediately in Emily’s arms when he passes her over. 

After they’ve put her to bed, slowly backing out of her room so they don’t wake her again, Emily kisses him as soon as the adjoining door to their room is closed. She loops her arms around his neck, taking every opportunity to be as close to him as possible. 

“She doesn’t cry because she hates you, you know,” Emily says, trying to smile reassuringly at him, “I talk about you all the time,” she strokes her fingers through his hair as he places his hands on her hips, “She just…”

“Doesn’t know me,” he finishes for her, shaking his head at himself, “And I’ve got no one to blame but myself.” 

“Aaron-”

“My daughter doesn’t know who I am, Em,” he says, cutting over her, “She’s 12 weeks old, and she’s known me for a day.” 

“Honey,” she says, making him look at her, “She’s a baby. She only figured out how to smile a few weeks ago,” she swallows thickly, pushing down her own feelings about it all for now, “When you come back for good, things will be different.” 

It’s the closest either of them has come all day to address their reality. They had no idea how long he’d be gone for. It could be months. Another year.

Forever. 

She leans forward to kiss him, wanting to change the direction of her thoughts, of their conversation. Wanting nothing more than to end their day as they had lived it - together. 

“We don’t have to,” he says as he pulls away, and it makes her smile, makes her think of their wedding night, how she knows he meant it then too. They hadn’t had the chance last night. Both of them far too tired to do anything other than literally sleep together. They’d curled up around each other, and had woken up in the exact same position, their hands still intertwined. 

She steps onto her tiptoes, eliminating the height difference between them, and kisses him fiercely. Her hands run up the back of his neck and she digs her fingers into his hair, holding him close as she licks at the seam of his lips, grateful when he responds immediately, pulling her even closer. 

She pants as she pulls her lips from his, her forehead against his as she tries to make her breathing even again.

“Aaron, please,” she says, stamping another kiss against his lips, “I want to.”

He nods, his grip on her hips tightening slightly as his forehead knocks against hers. 

“I want to too,” he replies, one of his hands stroking up her back, “I just…” he drifts off, unsure how to put it into words, how to explain himself. He sighs, “Last time, I left you here alone, pregnant. And…” 

She hears what he hasn’t said, how he doesn’t think it’s fair to do that to her again. She pulls back to look at him, her hands drifting to his cheeks, holding him in place as she makes him look at her. 

“I don’t care about that,” she says, her eyes boring into his, “Besides, the doctor said it’s unlikely I can get pregnant whilst I’m still feeding Mae, and even if it does happen…” she swallows thickly, the thought of going through all of that alone, again, almost too much to bear, “If it does happen then it happens,” she shrugs half-heartedly, “I will take of much as you as I can get.” 

He stares at her for a second, considering what she’s said, before he nods, surging forward and kissing her as if they had never stopped. They shed their clothes quickly, material falling to the floor without fanfare, their need for each other getting more desperate by the second. It’s only when she’s naked, laying on the bed, that she feels self-conscious, his gaze fixed on her as he looks at her intently. 

“I know I look different,” she says, pressing one of her hands to her stomach. Her skin was still looser than it used to be, and her hips were wider. There were thin pink lines that were slowly turning silver across her abdomen, signs of where her skin had been stretched almost to its limit when Mae was still inside of her, “I know it’s not-”

“You’re beautiful,” he says, cutting her off, pressing a kiss to her lips to stop her from saying anything else, before he moves downwards, worshipping her skin bit by bit before he gets to her stomach. His touch becomes even more reverent, his fingers and his lips mapping her out again as he had on their wedding night, re-learning all of her hills and valleys, “I wish I could have seen you,” he mutters against her skin. 

“I was massive,” she comments, not missing the breathlessness of her voice.

“You still would have been gorgeous,” he says, travelling further down her body, his hands tracing her thighs, gently pushing them apart as he kneels in front of the bed. 

She sits up, her elbows on the bed as she looks at him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he looks at her, his eyes fixed between her legs. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, and he looks up at her, making no move to get up off the floor.

“Do you trust me?” He asks in response, still not giving her an answer, a fire in his eyes that threatens to engulf them both. 

“Yes,” she answers simply because it’s true. There’s no one she trusts more. 

Before she knows what was happening, his focus has shifted again, his hands holding her thighs apart as he licks through her, making them moan simultaneously, her at the feeling of it, of every nerve in her body feeling like it was alight, and him at the taste of her. 

“Oh my God,” she moans, her elbows giving out as she lays back down, her hands fisting in the bedspread as he carries on, his grip on her thighs getting tighter as he explores her in this new way, “Please don’t stop.” 

He takes her apart, slowly and methodically as if he had thought of nothing else in the year that they had been apart. Pleasure rushes through her in a way she didn’t know it could, and it takes her a second to remember to breathe, her body shaking as she comes back down. She blinks, clearing her vision, and feels the dip of the bed next to her. She looks at him, breathing heavily as he smiles at her.

“You ok?” He asks, and she nods, clearing her throat. 

“Yes. More than ok. Where the hell did you learn about that?” She asks, reaching up and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“France,” he mutters, shifting them so he’s laying on top of her, both of them groaning as he notches over her. She raises an eyebrow at him, her curiosity slowly getting the better of him, “It’s a bunch of men sitting in a dug-out trench in the ground sweetheart, we talk about sex.” 

“Oh,” she says, hooking one of her legs around him, bringing him impossibly closer. She doesn’t want to talk about France, about the reality that he’d start his long journey back the following morning. And she knows he doesn’t too, “Well…we’re definitely doing that again at some point.” 

He smiles at her and leans down to kiss her, one of his hands sneaking between them, his finger briefly dragging over her before he guides himself into her, both of them groaning as he pushes forward. 

It was overwhelming, the feeling of her around him better than he remembered. The fleeting time they’d had together when they got married was never enough. He buries his face in her collarbone, whispering praise against her skin as she shifts her hips up into him, a silent request to move that he is happy to oblige. 

They move together, his hand reaching for hers, linking their fingers next to her head on the bed as they build each other up. The only sound in the room is them, and quiet gasps of each other’s names whispered against skin. He can sense she’s close, can feel it in how she’s grasping at him, in how she says his name, so he reaches between them, his finger swiping over her until they tip over the edge together. 

He lays on top of her until he gets his breath back, and moves to roll off of her, but she stops him. Her still shaky legs hooked around him, and her arms tight around his back. 

“Em-”

“Not yet,” she says, and he looks down at her, sadness sparking in his chest at the unshed tears in her eyes. “Not yet.” She repeats, and he nods, leaning down to kiss her, hoping he can get across everything he can’t find the words for. How much he loves her. How much he didn’t want to leave. 

How much he missed her already, even though he was right here with her. 

“Ok sweetheart, not yet.” 

___

He wakes up alone. 

At first, he doesn’t notice. His heart racing as he sits up suddenly, heaving deep breaths into his lungs. It takes him a moment to realise where he is, that he’s home. He’s safe. 

It’s the silence he finds the strangest, the total opposite of what he was now used to. The complete lack of sound was louder than he knew it could be. 

He rubs his eyes as they adjust to the low light of the room, and he looks over to the adjoining door to Mae’s nursery and sees it’s slightly open, light streaming into the main bedroom around it. He gets up, stretching as he walks towards the door. As he gets closer he hears quiet singing, Emily’s voice soft as it travels through the air. 

“The little stars were the herring fish

That lived in that beautiful sea —

“Now cast your nets wherever you wish —

Never afeard are we”

Aaron opens the door, smiling as he’s met with the sight of Emily sitting down, Mae against her chest. She’s rubbing the baby’s back, her lips against the top of her head as she sings. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that lullaby,” he says, his smile widening as she looks up at him, her own smile sleepy. 

“It’s one my dad used to sing to me,” she replies, “I think she likes it. Want to come sit with us?” 

She doesn’t need to ask twice, moving across the room quickly, she stands just long enough for him to slip in behind her in the chair. He wraps his arms around her as she settles against him. He feels the last bits of tension caused by his nightmare fading away at having his girls in his arms. 

“Is she ok?” He asks, looking down at Mae and watching as her eyes flutter shut, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. 

“She’s fine,” Emily assures him, tilting her head to look at him, “She needed feeding, and she always likes to cuddle afterwards,” she smiles, looking back at Mae, “I like it too. Are you ok? I didn’t wake you up did I?” 

“No,” he says, holding her a little tighter, “You didn’t. I…dreamt about something.” 

She reads between the lines, not needing any other information to know it was a nightmare, that he was trying to play it down for her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t know how to. Everything over there is so…awful. Some of the men dying are just kids,” he shakes his head, chuckling bitterly, “Boys. And I don’t know how to tell you. You and her are so untouched by it,” he says, reaching out to touch Mae’s head, his fingers gentle against her soft hair, “I don’t want to bring it here too”

“We’re not untouched by it. I know it’s not the same. But my life is on pause, Aaron. I’m sat here waiting for you to come back, or for a telegram telling me you’ll never come back. I had our little girl alone. You weren’t there waiting to meet her,” she says, her eyes meeting his. She sees the sadness on his face, the guilt he’s barely covered up the entire time he’s been here, and she sighs. She takes one of her hands out from under Mae and reaches out for him, tangling their fingers together, “It’s not your fault, but I’m not untouched by it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I know you’re not,” he kisses the side of her head, “The thing is I can’t even wish I hadn’t gone. Because if I hadn’t, I don’t think we’d be here.”

She hums in agreement. She’d had the same thought many times over the last year, she was well aware that his decision to sign up for the army had been the push they’d needed. 

“You’re right. I’d be married to Ian,” she looks down at Mae, realising she had now fallen asleep. “And she wouldn’t exist,” she looks at Aaron and kisses him, “She’s asleep, if you want we can go back to bed?” 

He nods, kissing her again before she stands, well-practised at holding the baby as she moved around, and she sets her back down into the bassinet without disturbing her. Aaron leans down and kisses Mae’s head before he loops his arm around his wife, leading her back into their room. 

They both knew the countdown was on, that their time left together was limited. Hours would soon tick down into minutes, then seconds. 

They didn’t want to waste any of it. 

___

She doesn’t let him out of her sight until he has to leave. Even then, she stands by the front door with Mae in her arms, her eyes fixed on the car her mother had organised for him until he completely disappears from view. 

Somehow, it feels worse than the first time she had to let him go. The sweet taste of their life together that she’d had for a couple of days turning bitter as he gets further away from her. 

Mae cries out in her arms, and Emily looks at her, adjusting her hold on her daughter as she turns into the house. 

“Come on, sweet girl,” she says, raising her up a little so she can kiss her head, “It’s almost time for you to eat.” 

When she gets back to their room, she finds a letter propped up against their wedding photo, his familiar scrawl across the envelope spelling out both her and Mae’s names. 

Next to it is a small vase. A bunch of freshly picked daisies staring back at her, seeming all too bright for the heaviness in her heart. 

-x-

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[yea-baiyi]

Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

hi it’s been a while! i love getting asks from you because it lets me ramble about my favourite things, it makes me so happy so thank you!!! i hope you know how much joy you bring <3

(i’m sorry i haven’t replied to your last top 10 ask, i started the list and it got so humiliating that i’m unable to look at it again.)

anyway “top 10 media” is a broad question, so i have picked the top 10 media i love to ramble about. the kind where i could talk for hours about each one. are these objectively my favourites? maybe not. are they even good? only like half of them. but they certainly are top. enjoy!!

top 10 media of all time (not ranked):

1. tgcf (novel)

its still too early to say if this is a permanent top 10, but it has consumed my life for the better part of a year so it gets on this list. i have difficulty describing tgcf, it’s not particularly an excellent novel by many metrics, but it gives me endless satisfaction — the breadth of the story, spanning hundreds of years and a broad range of plotlines, plus the incredible depth of each moment, with sensitivity and humanity behind every hilarious-ridiculous-bombastic moment. i keep finding new things with every new chapter i annotate, even on my 4th/5th read. it’s rare that a piece of media gives me so much to think about, i’m just trying to savour the enjoyment for as long as it lasts.

2. the untamed/陈情令 (tv show)

oh man what can i say about the untamed. what can i NOT say about the untamed. the show i resisted for two years before finally being pushed into it. and i have been hurtling down the danmei rabbit hole ever since. for all that it was my intro to danmei and into the modern cdrama fandom, it really is SO MUCH just on its own. i daresay no tv show will ever be able to deliver such pure insanity juice straight to my brain ever again. deserves its spot. show of all time.

3. fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood (anime + manga)

i was a weeb for YEARS. consumed hundreds if not thousands of episodes of anime and manga. and this is the only one that stuck. obviously a masterpiece of storytelling. i revisit this constantly. i love stories that can be grim but still hopeful and endlessly sincere. also if you can’t tell i’m a huge sucker for stories where the side characters clearly have their own histories and relationships outside of what we get to see, and fmab has that for ages.

4. the legend of korra (tv show)

i cannot in good conscience say that i like this show. if you asked for my opinion, i would complain in your ear for an hour straight, minimum. (i have done this. multiple times. don’t ask me about the legend of korra.) and yet it is the piece of media i think about the most, that i have dedicated the most of my writing to, that i rewatch most often. lok aired when i was 13-17 and i grew up with it on tumblr. the people i followed and the things they talked about shaped how i interact with fandom today. maybe one day i will be able to move on, but this one has a sure spot in my top 10.

5. sense8 (tv show)

this one i can wholeheartedly recommend to any queer person trying to grow up in the world. yes, the orgies are gratuitous, the first season has some 2014 cliches, and overall who cares about the plot. but it’s such an unabashed expression of queer joy and unconditional love. there’s something so comforting in the idea that other people will volunteer to share your pain, your happiness, and your loneliness. that everyone in the world is connected by their ability to feel, to laugh, to scream, to cry, to love— you are only as alone as you let yourself be. this show carried me through so many dark times and helped me to keep believing in people. maybe i’ve outgrown my need for this show now, but i will always love sense8.

6. my ajusshi/my mister (kdrama)

is it one of the best kdramas ever made? yes. am i also incredibly biased because it’s IU? also yes. i strongly recommend it if you have the patience. this drama is slow and melancholy and washed out, its characters are weary and cynical and not always kind to each other. but that is precisely the point, because the drama dusts off their dull, exhausted lives and finds within them something worth living for. sometimes it’s enough to know that you have the power to make someone else’s life better. you might have lost the love of your life, but you have a spare mattress in your bedroom for a scared, lonely girl to sleep on. you might have lost your marriage, but you have enough money to pay for an old woman’s funeral. your career might be going nowhere, but you can be the cheerleader and inspiration for a silly woman that loves you. you might be a gang of sad, broke, middle-aged failures, but you can all walk a young woman home together and make her night a little less dark. my ajusshi is not an easy drama to watch, but similar to sense8, it’s one that gives me hope.

7. the k2 (kdrama)

firmly convinced that tumblr is sleeping on this drama. it is so absolutely batshit feral unhinged. let women be a mess!!! let women be so wrong!!! let women scheme and threaten and fight and manipulate, while the man looks on with protective anxiety and/or dead-eyed absolute competency. let a woman run barefoot through the streets of spain in a nightgown, tears streaming down her face. let a woman past her prime be psychosexually obsessed with her stepdaughter’s bodyguard whom she is locked in a blackmail revenge plot with. let him lead her at gunpoint into a car so he can escape the standoff, only for it to become a car chase with her enemies, and for him to flip the vehicle over. let him walk back into the burning car to carry her out.

8. man of steel (movie)

not gonna lie haven’t rewatched those one in a while! but officially my #1 favourite movie if anyone asks. i have moved on from capeshit but this movie still has everything i love: a world that breathes, people that live in it, and a clear message of hope despite how bleak things might seem.

9. rogue one (movie)

i mean. i mean. it says something that i was working on my (planned out, the story exists fully formed in my head) tgcf rogue one au when i opened up my writing notes and found that at some point last year i had written an entire mdzs rogue one au. brilliant. unparalleled. so blessed that this movie got to exist in between the endless cash grabs that are the other movies. as a star wars fan since age 13, i can say with full assurance this is the only star war that matters actually.

10. the infernal devices (novel series)

not sure if i’ve mentioned this series on this blog before, but to this day it’s one of my favourite YA series. yes it is your standard cliche fantasy series but it has will herondale, the best payoff to the typical angsty brooding male lead to ever exist. writers try to justify brooding characters like “they have valid reasons to be that way, deep down they’re really loving blah blah” but this series takes that and delivers. because the moment will is free from the legitimate reason he was acting that way, he is bursting at the seams to show his love. he runs to the girl he loves and tells her he loves her. he tells the woman who raised him that she’s awesome. he spends the rest of his life so, so incandescently happy, simply because he gets to love the people he loves. also the ending of the second book is possibly one of the wildest cliffhangers for a love triangle ever. i clearly love to have an Experience while consuming a piece of media.

(if you’ve read til here, thank you for reading and letting me ramble some of the words that go through my brain endlessly. if you’ve ever consumed and enjoyed any of the things i’ve mentioned, please feel absolutely welcome to message or dm me, i am dead serious about being able to talk about these for hours. in fact i would love to. please)

[not-so-secret-account]

RWBY Discussion #2 — Ship Edition

those shower thoughts be hitting

now, i’ve come back here to talk about something i’ve been itching to for a while now, and have just gotten it all into words (bc tbh it’s all just been incoherent babbling inside this head of mine)

alright to whoever has watched RWBY at least to the end of volume 3, y’all will know exactly what i’m talking about.

for those who don’t, spoiler warning for volume 3.

now onto the topic of the day: Arkos.

Okay I cannot even begin how much I love this pairing, but not in the way I want them to end up together (bc frankly, that ship has been thanos snapped out if reali-💥💥💥). But I love this because of how incomplete and tragic this pairing really is when taking a deeper dive into it.

Let’s start with the gal herself, Pyrrha Nikos. Champion, and the pride of Mistral, known for her talent in combat and is basically a celebrity. People look up to her, the “Invincible Girl”, as she’s called. There are many, many people who would probably bend over backwards to be aquatinted with her, and she hates it.

Despite all the attention, all the fame, she is lonely. Even with the people clamoring to become buddy-buddy with her, it’s all for the sake of raising their own status or other advantages with being associated with the champion. Because of this, she has no real friends; Pyrrha is lonely, and stands alone on that pedestal people have put her on for a long time. So, she wants a fresh start, to go somewhere that won’t treat her as some sort of goddess whenever she steps into the public eye.

Cue Pyrrha arriving to the kingdom of Vale, where she goes to enroll at Beacon Academy. A place that, hopefully, won’t have as many people swarming around her (at the very least). Of course, she’s gotten some people trying to get into her good graces out of ulterior motives (sorry Weiss), but it hasn’t been a bad experience so far. And hey, she’s got a team now, and thankfully, with people who haven’t been bombarding her about her status.

And then, there’s Jaune. Jaune Arc — “short, sweet, rolls off the tongue (his words, not mine)”. Not a..particularly known student. In fact, he’s just a nobody in the Academy, and with next to zero knowledge about fighting or combat in general. No prior training, with only the desire to become a hero. So, it’s a wonder that he even made through initiation, much less become a team leader. And one of his teammates is none other than Pyrrha Nikos. Granted, he only survived because everyone else kicked ass and saved his, but okay — the gang’s all here, and so, the school year begins.

Circling back on the first part, Pyrrha has never had any real connections with others outside of family (presumably), so of course she’s had trouble finding friends, and let alone a deeper connection with anyone else. She can’t be genuine with anyone else because of that untouchable status of hers..until she met her team. And specifically, Jaune.

See, Jaune, when finding out of her status, didn’t..really think too much on it. Of course, she’s held to a degree of respect, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t a person, either. Jaune, unlike most people, treated her like an equal, a *friend.* And that was the first thing that had gotten her to form a good bond with him. And with the time that bond formed, vulnerabilities started to show from either side, with each confiding in one another of secrets (though that was mainly on Jaune’s part). And when taking into account that this was the first guy to have shown interest in her and not the status she carried, it wasn’t a surprise that she fell in love with him.

And here’s the fun part: I don’t believe this love to have been reciprocated.

While we have seen Jaune mourn her death more openly than anyone else in the series, it doesn’t mean he really loved her back romantically. Thinking back, Pyrrha had been the one person who’s gone out of her way to help him become a hero, the one thing he strived for. To him, she was a great mentor — an inspiration. And the person who’s pushed him in the right direction back at Beacon. Pyrrha was an amazing friend and person, who gave all her time and effort to train her own team leader, and for a while, Jaune believed all that had gone to waste into someone who didn’t deserve it. He didn’t think he deserved a friend like Pyrrha, and he sure as hell didn’t after her death; Jaune blamed himself for not being able to save Pyrrha in her time of need, compared to when she was present for his. And it wasn’t until the Fall of Beacon when he realized the degree of care she really had for him. And y’know what? He feels guilty. Guilty that he never knew of how deep her care went, and that he took her kindness for granted, because he could only take a fraction of it.

And that’s why I love Arkos. On one hand, it’s an unrequited love, and on the other, the lost of a friend who gave too much, and got little in return.

More RWBY-related rants coming soon to a page near you, stay tuned 👍

[swynlake-rp]

“That’s a keeper!”

FULL NAME:   Park Bit-na Penny Forrester BASED ON: Penny (Bolt) FACE CLAIM: Huh Yunjin PRONOUNS: She/Her BIRTHDAY: November 23, 2001 CURRENT STATUS: Taken

Character Information

INTERVIEW EXCERPT FROM PEOPLE MAGAZINE: 

“After the Storm: Penny Forrester’s Bright New Beginning.” 

We sat down with beloved icon and magick advocate, Penny Forrester to talk about wrapping about her hit TV series, working on new music, and tackling new movie projects on the big screen. Forrester, now 21, became a household name after starring as the precocious animal whisperer Stormy Dae in the hit movie Bolt when she was only seven years old. She has since gone on to star in a dozen projects, launch new music under the name ‘Penny&thevibe,’ and win awards from ASPCA, the Humane Society, and the Magicks in Movies Project. 

Q. Thanks for sitting down with us Penny! First thing’s first– Stormy and Bolt has finally concluded! What are your feelings upon saying goodbye to such an iconic character and show? 

A: Oh, it’s bittersweet for sure. I cried a lot when we were filming Stormy’s graduation from the Institute. Even though we finished filming in 2020 and two years have passed though, I think about her every day! Stormy has just become a part of me, like I think about her whenever I’m nervous or unsure. She’s that brave voice in my head that goes, “You can do it! You’ve faced worse!” So even though I miss my cast and going to the set every day, Stormy is still with me.

Q: I’m sure your pen-pals love that. There’s a petition online about making Bolt 3, you know. Have you heard about that? What’s your response? 

A: That’s amazing. I have heard about it. Obviously it’s just an important film for a lot of people, magick and mundus, so I’ll always be grateful for its impact and people’s passion for it. I don’t ever want to sound ungrateful, so I can’t say ‘never.’ If the right story came along with a message I believed in, I’d go for it. But right now, I think Stormy and Bolt’s story is done and I’m looking forward to meeting new roles and showing my fans new sides to me. Like I said, Stormy’s a part of me, but she’s just one part of me. 

Q: That’s a great segue into talking about those new projects. You released your second studio album ‘teen.age’ and toured it for the first time. What was that like?

A: Exhausting. Rewarding. Overstimulating, but in a good way! I’m not sure how bigger pop stars do it. I’m glad I tried it though. The feeling of being scared is really inspiring to me. I love doing something I’ve never done before.

Q: Is that how you pick your projects? 

A: Well, not in the past. But now, I’d say yes. My new movie is scary for a lot of different reasons, like I’m going to do a British accent and hopefully not goof it up and offend an entire country, plus I’m gonna go abroad– I skipped ahead didn’t I? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I got excited! 

Q: That’s fine! Let’s talk about it. The movie’s called Olive Bright, Pigeoneer, right?

A: Yes! It’s my first time shooting a period piece, my first time shooting on location, my first time working with a different studio and– lots of other new things. We’re shooting in this beautiful, magick-friendly town called Swynlake. This probably sounds weird, but the whole project feels like a return to my roots in that way, even though I’ve never been there, obviously. It’s just like, as a magick in my career, sometimes I’m the only one of my kind in a room, and now I’m getting a chance to reconnect with a magick community. And being away from the Burbank studios means I’ll get to focus on this role in a way I haven’t before. 

Q. That does sound like a unique opportunity. What are you hoping to achieve with this movie?

A: Wow, that’s a great question. To be honest, I’m just hoping to show everyone I’m not Stormy Dae. I’m 21 now. This is an adult role, unlike any of my other roles. I hope when everyone sees this, no one thinks about the little girl from Bolt and instead feels like they’ve met someone brand new, but someone-who is still worth rooting for.

Q: I think they will. Thanks for sitting down with us, and good luck! 

✓  Passionate, adaptable, empathetic 

✖  Guarded, pushy, unyielding

Character Suggestions

None

Current Relationships

None

Possible Relationships

click here!

Magical Abilities

Gifted — can communicate with animals

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl (Part 3)

- Final Girl Series Masterlist (updated part 1 - 9 and extras) 

A/n yall have been so kind!! all of the messages, likes, comments, and reblogs for this series have made me so happy! this chapter is a little bit of filler bc my original idea for this part was way too long especially with how busy this week is supposed to be, so i sort of split it!! 

also if this has pacing issues, i’m sorry, i had a panic attack yesterday and a really bad migraine today so it’s been kinda rough lately but i wanted to get this out!! Part 4 is going to have a little more going on :)

if this is messy pls don’t give up on me 😭 i promise the next part will have more going on i just didn’t want to leave y’all waiting forever and we needed a bit of a filler

also if anyone wants to leave me an ask about this series pls do:) i’ve had so much fun talking about Final Girl

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Chapter Summary: Y/n’s first day back after the incident. 

----

My reflection has never bothered me more. I know vanity is such a stupid thing to worry about now after what happened to Casey, but I can’t help the way I scrutinize my appearance. 

The attention drawing cotton-y bandaid that was placed on the gash on the side of my temple has been (thankfully) downgraded to a regular bandaid. That’s fine--I can accept that. What I can’t accept are the stupid cuts caused by all of that glass.

After being released from the hospital, it took no time for me to learn that it’s going to be awhile before I can comfortably wear pants again. My arms are a little less cut up, so the white, long sleeved shirt I picked out covers my injuries without irritating them. I tried on a pair of leggings and I barely got them to my thighs without wincing.

So now I’m wearing the most comfortable skirt I own. Normally, I wouldn’t even think twice about it, I wear this skirt so often, but it barely covers any of the cuts on the back of my legs. God...people are going to think I’m doing this for attention, especially since media outlets keep calling my house. 

Ugh--this is as good as it’s going to get for my first day back. I pick my backpack up from my bed. My eyelids feel so heavy I have to fight the urge to collapse back into bed. 

The walk downstairs is painfully slow. Once I’m finally in the hall that leads to the kitchen, I stop. A vague confusion clouds my thoughts. Was I going to the kitchen? What did I want from the kitchen?

“Mornin’, kiddo.” I blink at the sound of Wells’ voice. At least it’s offering me a sense of a direction. 

Stepping fully in the kitchen, I greet back, “Good morning.” 

He eyes me for a long second, piercing blue irises lingering in a way that makes me feel uneasy in my own skin. “Skirt’s a little grown, ain’t it?” When my only reaction is to furrow my eyebrows, he continues, “What happened to those little girl dresses you used to wear? I liked those.” 

I grab the strap of my backpack, shifting slightly. I stopped wearing those dresses after he had been dating my mom for a few months. “Outgrew them, I guess.” 

Wells nods once, the motion gruff as he moves to grab his mug. He lets out a curt, gruff noise. 

“Oh, Wells.” Like always, my mom’s voice chases away all the tension. “Don’t you know better than telling a girl what to wear? Especially a teenager. Now ease up, 16-year-old me would make Y/n look like a saint.” With that, my mom finally looks at me. “You look pretty, like always, I especially like your top.” It takes me a second to realize that my mom’s referencing the fact that I stole this shirt from her closet. I let out a soft, slow laugh. “You okay?” 

I nod drastically. “Yep, just want to get the first day back over with.” 

“I can’t believe you only took one day off. When I was your age, I’d have taken half a week off for less.” 

“It’s going to be bad no matter when I go back. My name’s been all over the news.” I release the strap of my backpack, scratching the back of my wrist. “Plus it’s junior year and that one day off already has me drowning in makeup work. I can’t afford to fall behind. Junior year is the year colleges look at most. This year could make or break whether or not I get into Princeton.” 

My mom holds her hands up in defense. “Yes, I know, you ranted to me about it yesterday. Just promise me you’ll listen to your body. I don’t love that you haven’t had your follow up appointment yet to confirm whether or not you have a concussion.” 

“Mom, I’m fine, promise. I’ll let you know if I start to feel weird.” 

She watches me for a long second, likely attempting to scan me the way an MRI machine would. “Fine, you need a ride or--” 

“Actually, a friend’s picking me up.” 

At that my mom tilts her head in a way that’s so knowing I feel the urge to confess even though I’ve done nothing. “A friend as in one of those two boys that spent all weekend calling and checking in on you?” 

My mom spent the last two days at my side. Normally it would have annoyed me, but it was actually nice. It reminded me of life before Wells. There was one downside, though. She saw how often Billy and Stu called. It wasn’t terrible and she probably would have picked up on it anyway, but it’s opened the ground to a lot of jokes and comments on her part.

“You’re the one who brought them into this. I would have never thought to call Billy while I was at the hospital.” That’s true. Even though we were friends before the incident, I wouldn’t have thought to call anyone except my mom. “And they’re just trying to be there for me like good friends.” 

At that, my mom leans against the kitchen island. “Y’know when I was your age, I had a guy that just wanted to be a good friend and drove me to school. Now I have a daughter.” 

I roll my eyes, “Haha. Yes--I’m going to get pregnant in the less than 10-ish minutes we’re going to have before we need to get to class.” 

“It only took about 8 minutes to make you, and that includes me getting dressed and fixing my hair after. Just saying.” 

I make a point of fake gagging. “Bye mom, Wells.“

“What? I was joking!” 

I walk towards the front door. A hand on my shoulder makes me nearly jump out of my skin. “Mom! You scared me.” 

She offers me a sheepish smile, “You know I’m kidding, right? They’re nice for caring.” 

“I know, mom.” 

With a sigh, she continues, “Just be sa--” 

“Oh my God, mom! I’m not having se--” 

“Easy, pumpkin,” she laughs off my outburst, “I mean in general. Don’t strain yourself and don’t feel like you need to push through. You want to go home early and I’ll pick you up.” 

I smile softly. “Yeah, I will.” 

With that, I open the front door. The sun is so bright I have to drop my head as I walk down the driveway. Wells’ house is objectively nicer than the house my mom and I lived in when we were still in Texas, but I still find myself missing the familiarity of our old front porch. 

Squinting, I look up and notice a car waiting next to the mailbox. How did I miss that? Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I approach the vehicle. 

I pull open the door to the backseat. Two sets of eyes turn towards me. “You know you guys didn’t have to wait for me.” I push my backpack into the car before sitting down. “You could’ve honked or something,” 

“We just got here,” Billy says easily, but I’m not sure I believe him. 

Stu turns in his seat to face me better as I shut the car door. “Plus we don’t mind giving you time to get all dolled up. Especially since today’s going to be a total bloodbath.” 

His wording leaves me more confused than upset. I draw my eyebrows together, shifting awkwardly. “What do you mean?” 

“Everyone’s gone crazy over what happened. I think more people were talking about you than Casey, and Casey’s the one that got gutted. It’s all over the news. They hung her from that tree in--” Billy moves his hand from the console in order to smack the side of Stu’s head. “Ow, man--what was that for?” 

“It’s not even 8 yet, at least let her wake up first before you traumatize her.” 

The thought of Casey makes my stomach twist, but I’m not focused in on anything enough to really react. Tiredly, I pull my backpack onto my lap and squeeze it to my body. “It’s fine,” I’m not sure if I’m talking to them or myself. 

Stu and Billy exchange a look that I barely register before resting my chin on my bag. “Are you okay? You didn’t even do that cute, little glare thing you do when you want me to shut up.” 

“I’m fine,” I answer a little too quickly, forcing myself to sit up some more, “A little tired.” Stu’s watching me a little too carefully and I catch Billy glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Seriously?” Sighing, I shift in my seat, “First my mom and now you guys. I’m fine.”

My reaction is just a little too angry. Maybe if I felt a little more rested, I would have known better. Stu moves until he’s siting in the passenger seat normally. “Crying over the fact that you’re a total mommy’s girl.” 

Rolling my eyes and ignoring the way the motion irritates my migraine, I lean back in my seat. “Put on a seatbelt, asshole.” 

Even though that’s said with more bite and irritation than anything I’ve ever said to him, Stu laughs. It’s light and terribly offensive. I frown, looking over at Billy as heat crawls up my neck and towards my face. He’s just barely fighting down a grin. “It’s not that funny.” 

“No,” Stu sarcastically agrees, “That was so mean of you. I can’t remember the last time someone insulted me and tried to take care of me at the same time.” 

I cross my arms around my backpack. “Why did I agree to getting into a contained space with you two so early in the morning?” 

“Because you don’t have a license.” Billy looks way too smug as he turns the wheel as we move down a curb. 

I glare at him. “You extorted that information out of me while I was super out of it and half asleep.” 

“You said it yourself, it’s not like one of us asked.” 

He’s right and I hate it. I sink further into the seat, tempted to shut my eyes, but knowing that there’s no guarantee that I won’t fall asleep if I do. “Whatever.” 

Stu half laughs at that before starting to talk about a new scary movie that’s coming out. The plot sounds kind of basic, but I’m not one to judge until I see the movie. Normally, I’d be totally invested. I kind of like when Stu rambles about something he’s interested in, but now I’m struggling to hold my head up. 

I don’t register that we’re in the school parking lot until both Billy and Stu get out of the car. Once they’re both out, I shake my head once in an attempt to clear my thoughts. Get it together.

When I step out of the car, I make a point of keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me. Stu may exaggerate every once in awhile, but I don’t think he’s wrong about school. My mom has been fielding calls since the morning I was discharged from the hospital and last night while I was flipping through channels, I saw my face three times.

Before I can even think, a bright flash makes me flinch. The light is like a punch behind the eye thanks to my headache. That is followed by a series of other equally bright and irritating camera shutters. 

Shit. 

Billy steps towards me, dropping his voice so that only I can hear, “You know we don’t have to.” 

Taking a settling breath, I tilt my chin up a fraction of an inch. “It’s fine,” I say, hoping that I’ll convince myself, “Can’t hide forever.” 

We walk forward, me a few steps ahead of Billy and Stu. My fast pace is a sad attempt at ripping off the bandaid. 

“Excuse--Excuse me, miss!” I squeeze the strap of my backpack so tightly my knuckles must be white from the tension. “Miss Y/n L/n.” The woman that waves me down is holding a large microphone. She barely glances at me before turning her attention back to the camera man that followed her as she chased me. “Hi. Gale Weathers. I covered the last one of these.” 

I wince. “I’m sorry, when you say ‘the last one of these’ do you mean the last murder or--” 

“...And we’re rolling!” In nature, bright colors are meant to warn living things of poison. I think that logic could be applied to Gale Weathers and her auburn hair and blood red lips. “I’m Gale Weathers and I’m bringing you an exclusive with the lone survivor of what some are calling the worst murder in Woodsboro history.” She then turns towards me, “Now, Y/n, our viewers want to know exactly what you’re feeling.” 

Her microphone is way to close to my face. “Well, Gale, I’m glad you asked,” I’m speaking in the polite tone I used to reserve for rude customers when I worked in the mall last summer, “I’m feeling fan-freakin’-tastic!” 

The false enthusiasm jars her the way I hoped it would. She brings the microphone back to her. “Really?” 

“No, you vulture. Ambush interviewing is as tacky as that suit.” 

With that, I turn away and attempt to storm into school with an aura that scares away reporters. I’ve only ever seen that kind of confident magic come from my mom, but she’s half my genetic material, that means it must be in me somewhere, right?

Apparently wrong, because the cameras continue to flash. One man gets so close to me that his rapid photographing leaves me dizzy. 

“Okay,” an arm quickly wraps around my side, stabilizing me, “You got your pictures, now leave her alone.” The scent of Tatum’s perfume is comforting as she guides me the rest of the way inside. Once we’re inside, we’re granted the semblance of some privacy. “And I thought they were bad yesterday. Are you okay?” 

I nod, relaxing a little at her casual expression. Maybe if I try hard enough, I’ll be able to pretend that this is an average Tuesday. “I’m fine, I’m just tired, and I can’t believe how obsessed everyone is.” 

“Of course they’re obsessed.” For the first time ever, Randy’s voice is completely unwelcome. “You’re the sole survivor, the only witness to tell the story, the--for lack of better term--final girl.” 

Being in a friend group with so many people that are really into horror movies is all fun and games until they summarize the great trauma of your life in a movie trope. “Really? I never would have thought of it that way.” 

Sidney glares at Randy in defense of me. I appreciate it, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “It’s too soon for those kinds of jokes.” 

My sarcasm was pure venom and Sidney’s reaction, though well intentioned, only made me feel sorry. Randy offers me a sheepish sort of look that immediately makes me feel bad for being so snippy. His comment wouldn’t have bothered me so much if it wasn’t for what just happened, and he wasn’t really trying to be mean. That actually might have been an attempt to lighten the mood, especially since he knows that the final girl storyline is one of my favorites. He’s always recommending movies that end like that. 

“Thanks, Sid, but I came on a little strong. I’m sorry, Randy, I’ve been a total nightmare all day. Just ask Billy and St--” I look around, a little surprised that they’re not right behind me. Aw, I lost them in all that commotion. “Weird--they were just behind me.” Shaking off the slightly lost feeling with the turn of my head, I move on, “Ask them later. The point is, I’ve been awful. It’s not your guys’ fault that this is my life right now.” 

Randy’s expression morphs from being almost hurt to something that’s even more of a punch in the gut. He seems sympathetic. “It’s okay, you’re holding it together way more than I would be. I don’t even know how you’re at school today.” 

“Yeah, how are you even here, Y/n?” Tatum echoes, her voice a little softer than before. 

It’s a good question. Now that I’m here all those points I made about school and grades and Princeton feel so far away. “It had to happen at some point, I might as well rip off the band aid. I just want everything to go back to normal.” I shift awkwardly, watching them watch me. “And the man that did this doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my fear.” 

After a moment, Randy prompts, “...And?” 

“And what?” 

He half smiles. “Come on, Y/n, if you want this to feel normal, you’re going to have to give us the Princeton rant.” 

I roll my eyes before scoffing. “I do not talk about Princeton often enough for you to warrant naming it a specific rant.” 

Randy raises an eyebrow at my obvious lie. “You must have really hit your head hard.” 

“Rude.“ I turn towards Tatum, “Tate, you don’t think I’m like obsessed with Princeton.

She parts her lips as she debates the way she wants to respond. Before she can say anything, Stu walks up from behind me and pulls Tatum into a hug. He then gives her a soft kiss that feels linger-y. Wait--why am I noticing that? That’s...that’s weird of me. And why does this feel more uncomfortable than the time I caught them full on making out in the girl’s bathroom? Why is that tiny display of affection sitting in my chest in a way that makes it hard to look at them? 

More annoyed at my thoughts than the way Stu cups her face, I force my myself to stare at the locker in front of me. There are polaroids of people I don’t know tapped to the front of it.

Ugh--screw the guy that threw me into that wall. My head must be totally messing with me. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Billy’s sudden appearance surprises me more than it should. At this point, I should know that when I see one the other isn’t too far behind. He has an arm around Sidney’s shoulders, and she’s leaning into his touch just enough for it to be noticeable. Since when is Billy so into PDA? 

Oh my god, what’s wrong with me? Maybe my mom was right to think I have some kind of brain injury. My eyes snap back to the locker. “Nothing.”

“Y/n’s obsession with an Ivy League school in New Jersey.”

After a moment of silence, I realize that everyone’s waiting for me to speak. “Not an obsession.” My response lacks my usual level of conviction when talking about Princeton in any capacity. I can feel the fragile way they’re all looking at me. My eyes focus on the polaroids in front of me until everything else blurs into the background. 

The polaroids have my eyes watering and I don’t know why. They’re just stupid pictures of people I don’t know. Casey’s voice echoes in my head. It’s a punch in the gut.

Stu’s voice cuts through the static of my thoughts. “Y/n? Are you o--”

“I think I remembered something.” The admission is so low I’m surprised anyone hears it. “Randy, do you have a copy of the news article? Not the first one, the second one that lists everything found at the crime scene?” 

“Yeah,” Randy admits it like it’s an apology, “In my backpack.” 

“Can I see it?”

Everyone stays quiet at that. There’s an energy in the air that makes me feel as trapped as I did in the hospital. “Come on, guys, I don’t need to be babied. The pictures aren’t going to freak me out, I was kinda there for the real thing.” 

“At the hospital, didn’t you say you were unconscious for most of it?” Billy’s remark earns him a glare so harsh that he moves his hands to hold them up in defense before dropping them to his side. 

“Fine. Whatever. Don’t show me the newspaper, I’ll find my own copy, it’s everywhere. There’s a good chance some jag-off shoved one into my locker anyways.” Ugh--why is everyone so impossible? I turn on my heels, unsure if I’m fuming or ready to burst into tears.

I don’t even make it a full step before something locks around my upper forearm. My head snaps back as the hand’s sudden grip softens. “Come on, bug.” That leaves me hesitant. Stu called me that the day after we first met. Since then, the nickname has mainly been reserved to calm me down. I’ve asked him about it before, but he always refuses to explain it. “You’re just going to make yourself sick.” 

Biting the inside of my cheek, I frown. The group learned about my weak stomach early on in our friendship. My first night drinking with them ended with me throwing up in Stu’s bathroom. That wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if I was totally wasted, but I was objectively way too sober to get that sick.

There’s some underlying quality to his words. A quality that’s too knowing, too sure. He’s being more condescending than sweet. “I think I can manage.” I pull my arm away, ignoring the way his expression blanks. “I’m not a vase or a little kid, I don’t need you all treating me like I’m that unbelievably fragile.”

Stu angles his head to the side. I force myself to tilt my chin upwards in an attempt to stand my ground. I don’t fully get whatever face off we’re in, but I’ll be damned if I lose it this quickly. “Since you’re all grown up, Y/n, look at whatever you want, but don’t come crying to me about it.” 

I take a step forward, indignation leaving my spine straight. “When have I ever--” 

“You couldn’t even spend a few hours by yourself in a hospital.”

The unfairness of his statement forces a scoff from my lips. I take a step forward. “I didn’t ask for your help then and I’m not asking for it now.” 

“Stu.” Billy’s voice is level, bordering on neutral. 

At that, Stu exhales, but he doesn’t stop staring at me. “It’s fine, Billy.” 

“Yeah,” Stu echoes, shifting towards me, “Y/n’s fine, she doesn’t need anyone.” 

A sarcastic, half thought out reply rises up my chest and jams itself in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about how much taller than me Stu is. He’s looking down at me with an intensity that hits me straight in the stomach. Great, another feeling I don’t understand. “Whatever,” I mumble, “I need to get to class.” 

The bell rings a moment after I turn. I walk to homeroom, not thinking twice about it until I’m sitting in front of an empty desk. 

My face is hot, my head hurts, and Mrs. Ramirez’s announcements are drowned out by a ringing in my ears. When the bell rings, I can’t get out of the room fast enough. Normally, Stu’s around right after homeroom, ready to walk me to math. 

I don’t know what that weird argument was in the hallway, but I’m not ready to deal with it yet. So even though I’m gripping the straps of my backpack so tightly it hurts, I take the long way to class. There are no memories of Casey in AP Calc AB, so this time when I sit at my desk, I can breathe.

By the time I’m pulling out my notebook, the bell rings. Mr. Williams walks to the front of the classroom, “Alright, everyone in their seat. For today’s exam, you are permitted the use of a graphing calculator.”

Shit. The test. I forgot about the calc test. Mr. Williams begins to hand out the exam. When he gets to me, I stop him, “Mr. Williams, I-I was wondering if I could possibly take the exam on another day? After the events of this weekend, I--” 

“Ms. L/n, I made it clear to the entire class that I do not believe in scheduling a makeup exam the day of.” 

My fingers nervously scratch at the back of my wrist. “And I understand that, and normally I’d never ask, but if you’ve seen the news--” 

“Ms. L/n, do you want to take the test or would you rather me put a 0 in the grade book?” 

I could scream. I want to scream, but instead, all I do is nod, “Take the test.” 

And with that, he places the packet on my desk. The sound it makes feels like a death sentence. The next 50 minutes are a nightmare. I don’t remember how to do half the problems, and what I do remember, I can’t seem to do right. By the time the bell rings, I’m in full on panic mode. Mr. Williams collects the test and I leave the room like it’s on fire. 

The sharp pain in my head has never been this bad. I reach my locker, unlocking it to grab my bottle of ibuprofen. I take two Advil without any water. Today totally, unbelievably sucks. I need to splash some water in my face. 

The bathroom is thankfully empty. Pushing my backpack off of my shoulders and onto the counter, I turn on the sink. The water is cool against my fingers, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe. My bandaid is sticking out to me too much so I force my gaze downwards. 

There’s a long abandoned copy of a newspaper on the counter. Its corners are so wet that the words at the start and end of the article are unreadable. The page it’s opened to has no photos. I’m sure if I flipped through it I’d find something listing everything the police found inside the house that night. 

Stu’s earlier claim echoes in my head as I pick up the newspaper. I’m not sure if I’m more motivated by spite or the desire to answer the question in my head, but I guess it doesn’t matter, because the end result is the same. I turn the page, skimming the article. The intro is so long that I still haven’t gotten to the murder, let alone what the police found after. I flip ahead until I find what I’m looking for.

I read the section about everything that was found twice. They mention everything down to the burned jiffy pop and the tube of lipgloss Casey left in the living room. The paragraph never mentions the polaroids from the kitchen.

He took pictures of me from the crime scene. 

Unease leaves my stomach in knots. The killer, who talked to me on the phone like we were best friends and chose to not kill me took photos of me. 

I turn the page frantically, desperate to see if the polaroids are mentioned there. Big mistake. Casey’s photo is staring at me, but she’s not her in it. She’s hanging from that big tree in her yard and her--her intestines... 

Cold sweat leaves my hands clammy. My body knows what’s happening before I do. A stall door gets thrown open just in time for me to throw myself onto my knees. Bile and whatever’s left of last night’s dinner burn as they come up my throat. I wretch. 

An unexpected but not unpleasant touch is pressed into my back as my hair is pushed out of my face. More bile leaves me. 

After a second passes and I don’t throw up a third time, I turn my head just enough to see who’s next to me. Billy. He doesn’t say anything at my recognition, he just moves his hand up and down my back gently. 

“...I found a newspaper.” 

“Yeah, I assumed after i heard the…”

He’s trailing off to be nice. I shift in order to sit cross legged on the floor. “Right. That’s fair.” 

His hand stalls against my back. “I didn’t mean it li--” 

“I know.” My voice is too small.

Billy moves his free hand. I don’t know what he’s doing until he’s pulling the paper away from me. I let him take the newspaper and place it somewhere on the other side of him. “Why’d you look?” 

“I--earlier, I was looking at this locker in front of us and it had polaroids taped to it, and-and that made me remember that on Saturday, Casey took a bunch of pictures of me. Polaroids.” I wipe at my face with the back of my palm. "The article’s super detailed, but it didn’t mention any pictures. I-I think that means that the person took them.”  

Billy’s eyebrows draw together. The corner of his mouth turns downwards. “You’re making yourself sick over this.” 

“Because it’s a big deal!” My reaction is harsher than it should be. He’s being nice to me after I blew up at everyone this morning and they were just trying to be good friends. And after this, I’m in no position to talk about what I am and am not able to handle. “It’s a big deal that I’m alive and Casey isn’t.” Taking a shaky breath, I continue, “And I should--I have to make it right somehow. Casey’s dead and I’m alive because it fit whatever plot he wanted to make. It was total chance, the killer probably flipped a coin while outside of her house to pick which one of us would live and which one would end up like...” I gesture vaguely in the direction of the newspaper, “That.” 

He’s quiet for so long I think he may not respond at all. His hand begins to move up and down my back again in the form of small circles. “Do you really think that?” 

Shrugging, I lean into his touch. “I mean, it’s probably either that or a stalker scenario.”

“You don’t have to figure it out. Just because you’re the one that survived doesn’t mean you need to put yourself through this. Especially now. It just happened, give yourself some time.” His voice is so assuring and oddly comforting I feel my eyes water. “What’s wrong?” 

Despite myself, I almost snort. “I think you know what’s wrong.” 

He gives me a semi bitchy look. “Something else happened, I can see it on your face.” 

Frowning, I let my gaze drop to the ground. “Am I that transparent?” 

Billy moves, the hand that’s not on my back coming beneath my chin. I let him tilt my head upwards until our eyes meet. “You have no idea.”

Warmth crawls up my face. He smiles. “Fine, I’ll tell you but it’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve had a really bad headache all day and then I get to first period and Mr. Williams starts talking about an exam. And that’s how I realized that I completely forgot about the calc unit test. I tried using the whole almost murdered excuse--I kinda hated myself for it, but it doesn’t matter, because he didn’t even go for it.” With a dramatic, deprecating sigh, I start to pick at a loose thread in my shoe lace. “Mr. Williams doesn’t believe in getting out of the test the day of. There’s no way I didn’t fail it, and it’s an AP class so that’s going to mess with my entire GPA.” 

He doesn’t comment on my teariness or the way that I almost sniffle, he just continues to softly rub my back. The gesture is starting to feel somewhat maternal, but it’s nice. “He made you take the test?” 

“Mr. Williams’ is a total asshole.” 

Billy’s mouth turns upwards, “He sounds like it.” I smile, leaning into his touch. “You should go back to the doctor.” He frowns when I move away from him. “Your head hurts, you’re moody--” 

“Am not.” 

“Right, because that stand off with Stu earlier was like you.” 

Right--that weird moment in the hallway. Great, Stu’s probably mad at me, and there’s no way that me going out of my way to not see him before math is something he’s going to take lightly. “He’s probably so mad at me.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Billy says, “He can’t stay mad at you.” 

I give him a look. “He’s petty.” 

Billy smiles after a second. “He’ll be petty about it, but he won’t actually be mad.” Before I can respond, Billy stands, “Come on, you need to go to a doctor.” 

After a second, I stand, taking his hand. “Fine.” 

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @i-amnotokaywiththis