#(i honestly used to think ghosts would have their ashes appear before them after they die because ✨fiction✨

[idealisticrealism]

TCL 3x12 thoughts

Lol look I got there in the end. I actually wrote this in June but intended to do a read through before posting... then got on a plane and promptly forgot about the entire thing til now haha.

But here it is anyway, a very belated 3x12 recap with a random assortment of my thoughts about the finale.

Ugh poor Thony, seeing a woman in a blonde wig and green shirt playing with Luca and having that split second of thinking it was somehow Nadia, only to instantly know it was impossible. It must have felt like she was being haunted by Nadia’s ghost ugh, and no wonder she immediately goes and downs a huge glass of whiskey

Are we sure Ramona’s been cured of the lead poisoning? Bc her plan to ‘eliminate’ the Feds is ridiculously irrational. Jorge offers her a perfect, clever solution and yet she turns him down because ‘Derek’ wants her to take out the Feds. Who the hell is this guy? Is he the one who suggested she set Jorge up to be her fall guy, or did she come up with that on her own? So much for ‘family’ being everything to her– Jorge was everything to her until he started outgrowing her and defying her, and now she wants to move on to Violeta, to take her and mold her and make her into a copy of herself, and if she has to get Jorge out of the way to make that happen, she will

On one hand, dumping Nadia’s body on Russo’s doorstep is so awful, but on the other, I’m actually kinda glad that Ramona did that? I’m glad she was delivered directly into the hands of someone who would genuinely mourn her loss, who would treat her body with care and respect, rather than her body being just left in the desert to rot. By sending this ‘message’, Ramona ensured that Nadia could be cremated and reunited with Arman, and that means so much to me. (Yes I haveindeed  made myself cry multiple times wondering about what is going to happen to both of their ashes now– I had a fic idea of Thony asking Jorge to take her to Curacao to spread their ashes together on some beautiful beach somewhere, to honour them the way they deserve. Ughh.). 

Also I just realised that as far as the FBI knew, the last Thony saw of Nadia was when she escaped from Jeremy’s lair. They just think that Nadia tried to make a run for it and that Ramona found her, killed her, and dumped her. Even when Thony’s van shows up with the blood in it, they would probably have assumed Ramona had the van stolen and used in the transport of the body to point the finger at Thony. But idk, it seems like Thony tells the Feds the truth of what happened at some point anyway.

Omg Chris banging on the door was so stressful, what if ICE was still there?? Like yes Camila needed treatment for her infection, but not so urgently to risk her (and himself, and all those other people) being deported!! And then him having to fight his way out?? Like damn son you got your protective instincts from your mama. It must have been such a relief to see her in that kitchen– remember he’s only 16! He’s in way over his head, and then his mum appears and protects him like she’s done his whole life. Honestly though MVP of this ep goes to the chef who immediately clocks the situation and tosses the carrots on the floor– what an ally! Love it.

“If you can’t do your job, I’m gonna do it” I really love how Thony talks to Feds haha. Zero respect given, which is exactly as it should be. It must feel familiar for Thony to hear the Feds going after the right-hand man rather than the head of the crime organisation yet again– just like with Hayak and Arman, it was only her stepping in that prevented Arman from bearing the brunt of the FBI while Hayak walked free, and now she’s trying to do the same for Jorge. The conversation between her and Jorge in the warehouse is definitely similar to the one she had with Arman in his office in 1x10 (aka where she was trying to convince a man she cares about to save both himself and her by turning on his boss) though with two major differences: one, Arman already knew about her involvement with the Feds, so rather than feeling betrayed, he felt worried for her; and two, he was already in love with her, so she was more important to him than Hayak. Jorge cares for Thony, but in this moment he’s reeling not only from the news of Nadia’s murder at Ramona’s hands, but also the realisation that someone he trusted and let into his home helped bring the FBI down on him, and now she also drops this bomb that the person he’s closest to in the world intends to betray him and ruin his life? Poor guy is definitely in a much harder situation than Arman ‘Protect Thony At All Costs’ Morales. I love that despite his opposition to Thony’s claims, Jorge still ends up making a plan to keep Violeta safe, because clearly some part of him knows that Thony is telling the truth, that she is genuinely trying to protect him and his family as well as her own. Truly hilarious that he’s like ‘nope no way I’m going to have a meeting with the Fed’ and she’s like ‘yeah you are’ and literally the next scene is him coming to her house to meet with Jeremy haha. Again, definitely very reminiscent of 1x10 when Arman meets with Garrett for her. I could totally understand some viewers being annoyed by the similarities and calling it repetitive writing, but I think it’s actually kind of cool to see her getting caught in the same situations repeatedly, because it really demonstrates the theme of how Thony walks the line between light and dark, good and evil, law and crime… she is the bridge between the two, never quite able to escape one or the other, instead always pulled back in, always balancing it out. But ugh anyway I’m not over when Jeremy asks Jorge “Which side do you want to be on?” and Jorge turns and looks at Thony. Hers. He wants to be on her team– not part of Ramona’s crazy empire, not a FBI rat, but the team of morally grey parents doing whatever it takes to keep their kid safe. Yaaaass.

And then later the similarities to the heist with Arman appear again when we realise Jorge used the FBI to get the fingerprint, allowing him access to what he wanted– just like Arman using the FBI sting to steal Hayak’s money. With Arman, though, she had the trust in him to know that he would protect her no matter what. She can’t trust Jorge like that, not yet… but maybe one day. I appreciate that even after the trauma of what just happened with Ramona being arrested, Jorge goes to Thony and puts an arm around her, the two of them united, each other’s stable ground as their worlds crumble around them. I love that they walk out together, the survivors, and he tells her that not only is she safe from repercussions from the cartel, but that there’s also a place for her within his new empire if she wants it. I love her answer, quoting Arman and how he used his power to protect the ones he loved, whereas Ramona used that power to hurt others… and how she wants to do things her own way. To me, her way is using power to protect those who don’t have the power to protect themselves– her family, yes, but also the vulnerable, the undocumented, the poor and sick and disabled, the people that the system leaves behind or even persecutes. The fact she’s even alive right now is a gift from both Arman and Garrett, and she’s not going to waste it. She’s going to make it count by helping as many as she can, because every life she betters honours those who gave theirs for her. 

Jorge bringing Violeta to Teresa… omg I can’t. First, it shows he really heard and listened to Thony, and that he truly doesn’t trust Ramona to be the one to raise Violeta. But ugh I was so hoping we could see Eduardo meet Violeta… I would have loved seeing him be all sweet with her, then share a wordless nod of understanding with Jorge, like a sign that their family might just begin to heal… but still, I loved that Teresa was immediately ready to go up against Ramona to protect Violeta. She couldn’t prevent her son from being pulled into the world of crime, but maybe she could save Violeta from the same fate, and that makes me wanna cry a bit 

Would using a 16 year old personally connected to Thony’s family to identify criminals really work, in like a legal sense? Also how likely would she, a ‘lowly’ worker, have been to have actually seen the boss guys? Meh idc I’ll roll with it

Thony was so terrified about Ramona finding out about her helping Nadia, so sure she would kill her for it, and yet Ramona’s response is literally like ‘eh couldn’t blame Thony for defying me, she’s not a killer’ lol. And then later at the gala she is pleased with Thony simply for confirming her own suspicions about Jeremy, which they really didn’t need Thony for anyway? They clocked him as a Fed themselves just from the way he was acting lol, but whatevs, it gave Thony an excuse to be there and for us to enjoy that white dress lol

“She’s never going to tell you anything! She’s too smart!/ “Well I got you to tell me you were mixed up with Sin Cara”  Yeah Jeremy, she told you that when she was half in shock after you guys both nearly got violently murdered (during which she literally saved your life btw), and also after like 2 weeks of you manipulating her when she was at her most vulnerable, and grieving the man she loved? Her slipping up once in that high-stress situation is not the same as you smooth-talking Ramona for 5 minutes buddy. Also, fuck you. And lol your attempt really didn’t go the way you hoped, did it? Ran away with your tail between your legs lol. Can’t believe Thony actually goes to the effort of saving your dumbass life, again!! You better pay her back for that one or I swear

“Let’s burn it to the ground” loved the inclusion of this line between Fi and Thony, given the conversation between Jorge and Nadia at the wake of wanting to burn everything down after losing the loves of their lives. Looks like it’s a sentiment that they all share

Ngl I enjoyed Jorge coming up to Thony immediately when she arrived at the gala, not only telling her she ‘cleans up well’ (lol punny) but the little moment of camaraderie they share with an almost-joke about Ramona planning to bury her in the dress– they both know the risk they’re facing but they’re facing it together, and that makes it just a fraction less horrific. I wonder if Ramona questions why Thony and Jorge are sticking together all night? Maybe she just assumes Thony feels safer around him, which I suppose would be true haha

Literally how does Jorge get all the way from the gala to their underground bunker and back in time????? Some TV magic happening there for sure lol

Thony and Ramona’s showdown on the roof is kinda funny… like how did Thony know to go up there? How did she walk around with that gun without being noticed? But no matter. And ugh Thony shaking and crying as she tells Ramona she deserves to die for Nadia and Arman… my creys. Plus it was definitely satisfying to see Ramona realise that Thony and Jorge had allied against her (which was her own fault! If she hadn’t betrayed him, he never would have betrayed her! Consequences, baby!). I do appreciate that Jorge told the FBI exactly where to find her, saving Thony from having to take Ramona out and then potentially go to jail for her murder… though  it would be very cool if in S4 Ramona somehow weasels her way out of prison, and so Thony has no choice to take the matter into her own hands once and for all– for herself, for Nadia, and for Arman. 

Haha awww the family all at home, celebrating, doing karaoke? My heart. “How about a love song for you and Camila, Chris?” lollll Jaz is such a little sister and I love it. JD suggesting Beyonce for him and Luca, Thony and Fi looking relaxed and happy, Chris getting his kiss and Luca accidentally cockblocking…. This family deserves to have some simple happiness after everything they’ve been through! 

“Not this time” oh Thony, you know that escaping ~the life~ is not so easy… like Arman told you a long time ago, once you’re in, you’re in… Looks like Derek will be an issue for both Thony and Jorge to have to contend with next season. Tbh I thought that this final scene could have been shot better though, like instead of Thony’s “Not this time” and then a cut to black, they should have had her say that and then walk away, and the camera pans past the phone (which stops ringing and goes dark) and follows her to the lounge where we see her rejoin the festivities with a grin on her face, choosing joy and light in defiance of the dark that’s trying to pull her back in. But nvm I guess lol, sadly the writers don’t consult me on this stuff so it’ll just have to stay in my head haha

[beastenraged]

Kalos Pokemon thoughts

Pokemon Arceus has reawakened my desire to sketch out the possible history/cultures of ancient Kalos, the region of X+Y, and whose plot is heavily involved with that history, thus prompting my interest in putting something together on it. 

My original thought was that the events in the Kalos legend happened a thousand years ago, due to Yvetal’s and Xerneas’ thousand year cycles. Looked it up properly and it’s instead three thousand years. 

Holy crap, that is a long time. Really long. That’s some prehistory stuff right there, when it comes to situations in Western Europe and so on. Is AZ still sane after living that long? ...probably not. 

I’m using Western European history as my main reference due to Kalos apparently being based on northern France, but honestly this is Pokemon land so I can probably toss in other cultural elements that get referenced in other aspects. 

In France specifically, we don’t have written history for that time frame. Three thousand years ago, as corresponding to 2013 (when X+Y came out), would be around 1000 BCE. In 1000 BCE, we had the Zhou Dynasty in China, the building of the Solomon Temple in Israel,  and the Greek Dark Ages, among other Iron Age/late Bronze Age cultures. 

In France specifically, there was the Urnfield culture (among others). Pre-Celtic and named after the burial rites of urns buried with human ashes being commonly dated back to this time. And the fact we don’t really know that much about outside of that. 

Despite that time period being all Pre-Celtic, I think putting in more Celtic vibes for Past Kalos would be cool. Especially since Yveltal gives me some Morrigan vibes and Xerneas gives me the Celtic tree of life knot vibes. 

In real world history, this time frame is when the Naue II sword shows up. The Naue II sword is a short leaf-shaped bronze blade that influenced later sword forging and styles in Europe. Pokemon-wise, I’m thinking that if swords similar to Naue IIs showed up in Kalos around this time, those might be the root of proto-Honoedges. Exciting!

Some individuals might argue it’s ridiculous to think that the inhabitants of Kalos might have had stronger relations with their pokemon compared to the Hisui residents, since I’m looking at them 3000 years ago when in Hisui they were deeply afraid of pokemon only a mere 200 years or so before modern Pokemon era. 

To me, this looks like real life history. History is full of what some might call renaissances and recessions, where information is learned and lost and relearned by different peoples/cultures. How to properly care/friendship pokemon can fall under that category, of knowledge that can be lost and regained.

Plus Hisui and Kalos are different regions. That might contribute. 

I know bog bodies haven’t really been found in France, but I’m fascinated in the idea of there being a Ghost-type pokemon based on bog bodies appearing in Kalos and other similar European based regions in this time frame. 

Maybe a regional variant on an already existing Ghost-type Pokemon? Thoughts on that: maybe a Phantump or Sandygast would do the best reworked for that idea. 

I’m curious to what role AZ may have played those 3000 years ago outside of the entire ancient machine and immortality thing. 

He can’t have been a king the entire time, otherwise he wouldn’t have lost his Floette to war recruitment like he says he did. Or a king with any power, perhaps. 

There may have been multiple kings and kingdoms as common to similar times in reality, and AZ (alongside his brother) may have been a lesser king before he gained enough influence and power to start conquering the rest of Kalos to become known as its one and only king in later legend.  

Honestly, with how far back these events occur, how the fuck can Lysander even claim direct lineage from AZ’s brother? Seriously. 

AZ’s Floette, the Eternal Floette, might have a different coloring due to the influence of the ancient machine that gave it immortality. Not sure if canon claims that or not. But I’m also fond of the idea that its coloring might be signs of a different now-extinct variant or shiny coloring in the Floette species, since Pokemon Arceus has introduced the idea of extinct region variants into Pokemon worldbuilding. 

[rodeoxqueen]

Kaleb Cross/Revenant As A Father Of Twin Boys Who Look Just Like Him

(AFAB!Reader)

Leonemi_04 Requested On AO3:

If I could leave a kudo every chapter , every sentence I will.

I love Revenant so much and how you write him and put so much detail and emotion unto him is amazing.

Please keep writing more!!!!

Some ideas I can give and wish to see is:

-The reader is pregnant

-The reader had twins with him. Both male that looks like him 🥺💗

Or maybe create a whole story and not just one shots. You are amazing!! 💗💗

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

Howdy,

Thank you kindly for your praise. I did write both ideas together. As it is Revenant, I did have some creative leeway with some angst. However, if that ain’t your cup of tea, I have marked the border between Kaleb’s happy life and Revenant’s existence.

Love,

Rodeo

Kaleb is worried at first. Most likely it isn’t planned for you to be pregnant. With the tumultuous nature of his life, he thought he could keep the possibility of having children as a dream.

When you reveal your pregnancy, Kaleb is concerned but elated. He wants the two of you to be more financially capable, taking on harder jobs to be able to provide even more.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t?”

“Then why haven’t you been here with us?” You pout, hand over your stomach. It hits Kaleb like a runaway train of guilt. He starts staying home more, trying to be there for you and the growing life within you.

He tries to do everything for you, scared you might get hurt just doing anything. It’s a bit endearing but also overbearing.

Tries to talk to your stomach, interpreting the kicks as responses. He talks to you at night, wondering about what the child will be like, what to name them, who they will resemble the most.

As time passes, you go to get your ultrasound. Technology has improved so much in your time, the ultrasound transferable.

Kaleb just finishes a mission when he gets a message from you. It’s not words, it’s a heartbeat. No, it’s two separate hearts beating-

You’re having twins.

He can’t wait to get home as soon as possible.

Revenant thinks about it as he stares into the mirror, cold yellow eyes glaring at the ghost before him. He doesn’t think of himself when he remembers you.

You and his children. Two boys, with soft blonde hair and curiously mischievous eyes.

His own widen in realization, meeting them for the first time. They both look just like him.

“Looks like my genes win this time.” He chuckles, cradling the eldest of your twins, the younger in your embrace.

“This time?” You raise an eyebrow, still tired from your labor. The younger twin nustles against your chest and you kiss him on his forehead.

Kaleb smiles lovingly at you, the mother of his children. The love of his life. He never thought he wanted to have children, knowing how things were with his hand in assassination.

Maybe things will work out, he’ll make sure of it.

Domestic life is a bit more chaotic, both of you making time for your boys.

You make sure both of them are dressed to match their father, red and black onesies to differentiate brothers.

They have their hair cut similar to their father’s, the oldest with his hair parted to the other side compared to the younger.

Kaleb must admit, he’s confused them too many times. It’s tiring for the two of you as parents, the twin terrors everywhere at once. Just when he’s got one baby changed, there’s another one?!

Both of their first words are “Mama.” You grin at Kaleb’s exasperation, knowing both of you had been asking of your sons to say “Mama” or “Dada” respectively. They do learn how to call for him, pudgy baby arms reaching for him.

When they hear him open the door, the twins are quick to drop their toys.

He opens his arms.

“There are my boys!”

He throws them up into the air, strong arms catching the gurgling baby, while the other one waits impatiently against your hip. The twins hate taking turns, stubborn to get the same thing first.

Honestly, Kaleb would want his kids to take after him, although he never wants them to get hurt or be in danger. He guesses he’d have to wait and see if his kids will pick up the pistol like him.

It’s something he’d never expect, wanting to do anything for anyone else’s benefit. Wanting to nurture and settle down. The typical apple pie life he thought he walked away from.

He promises to protect all of you with everything he’s got, refusing to let anything hurt his family.

{{Alright, it gets real upsetting here.}}

Assuming Kaleb died pretty young, he didn’t get to see his boys grow up.

When he becomes Revenant, all those years twisting a man into a machine, forcing him into a frame not of his own, he has lost track of what he used to love. What he used to live for.

It catches up to him eventually. All of these questions he grew apathetic of asking himself.

Have you had to raise them alone, knowing he was gone? How many memories did his boys have without him? Did you mourn for the rest of your short human life? Did you pass, surrounded by his sons, praying with your last breaths that there was an afterlife with him?

Revenant knows there is nothing. He knows there is nothing and it haunts him. His family has slipped away between his metal fingers and he forms a shaking fist. He has been there and back, hopes of seeing you and his children again crushed over and over.

Even pictures of you all have faded into pixels, binary code with “error,” “invalid” all over blank screens. Physical copies of your smiling face and the twins have long burned into ash. All he has left are these bare memories, weighed heavily with the bitter taste of time.

This cold rush through him is not anger, but grief.

He feels sick, looking at this metal exterior, the swing of his arm breaking the mirror, webs of cracks appearing. He sends his fist into the wall like he’s trying to break his way out of himself.

He slams his head into the cold glass, shattering it. There are nothing but shards, pieces reflecting back to an empty, angry husk.

When Revenant leaves the room like the Grim Reaper, people part to make way for him. They assume it’s another one of his fits of instability.

They will never know what he has lost.

[queenofhearts7378]

Constellations Ch. 2

(Yes it finally has a title. Yes this is ending up multi chaptered. Yes there’s another part I’m writing. Yes I already have an outline for a vague plot....Yes I’m still blaming @ladylynse for this XD)

Prev. Chapter  -  Next Chapter

Danny was very much unprepared and underdressed for the time when some wizards fell out of his fireplace.

He paused in the doorway, spoon still in his mouth and cheeks full of cereal, as his brother stood up and brushed the soot off him with a displeased nose scrunch.

Danny swallowed. "And you couldn't just use the door?"

Honestly they're lucky his parents had left to chase down the Box Ghost earlier. Otherwise they'd be covered in a lot more than soot and ash.

Danny couldn't help the snort that escaped at the mental picture of Draco covered in ectoplasm and boiling in rage. 

Draco narrowed his eyes, seeming to pick up that Danny was making fun of him. "Using the Floo was quicker."

"....quicker than walking through the door."

"It's a wizard thing you wouldn't understand." Draco snapped back, his go to response whenever he couldn't argue against Danny's logic at the moment. 

"Uh huh. Anyways what are you doing here?" Danny asked, "You aren't supposed to be here for another two weeks."

Which was time previously planned for Draco to prepare for his summer in America while Danny finished school. Spend the two weeks after Hogwarts let out recuperating and making public appearances with his parents, then spend the rest of the summer with the Fentons.

Actually now that Danny was looking, it seemed Draco had come straight from school. His hair was lacking half its gel, he was still wearing his green tie, and his robes were a very boring black as opposed to the various greys and blues he flaunted around in the previous summer.

“Denebola, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” Drawled the man standing behind Draco.

“Hello creepy man that I have never met before,” Danny said, echoing his tone.

Draco choked on air as the discount Kylo Ren sneered at him.

“This is Professor Snape Danny.” A familiar please-don’t-say-anything-that-will-get-us-in-trouble tone coloring Draco’s words. “My godfather.”

Oh the potion guy. Danny remembers Draco talking about him now. He was friends with Draco’s parents, which didn’t really impress Danny that much as all of the Malfoy’s friends seemed to be really rich snobs or really racist. Mostly both.

But he was Draco’s godfather, the reason he got into potions, his favorite professor and someone Draco would willingly go to get advice from. So, Danny decided to reserve judgement till he met him. Well….he met him.

Danny looked Draco dead in the eyes, “My apologies.”

Draco closed his eyes in mortification, which made Danny grin internally. They were really getting the hang of the whole ‘speaking without talking to each other twin thing’. 

Professor Snape just scowled at him. “Where are the….muggles?" Disdain dripped off his words, instantly making Danny defensive. He had heard enough at Malfoy Manor about disgraceful, savage muggles from Lucius. Even Draco had echoed his father till Danny dragged him kicking and screaming into being a slightly decent person.

"My parents," Danny said, stressing the word, "Are working right now."

Okay maybe they were just being their usual trigger happy selves and running after Boxy, but there was no way he was telling Professor Snape that without it leading to an hour long discussion about ghosts. And Danny did not have time for that. He shoved a giant spoonful of cereal in his mouth as he met Professor Snape's eyes and-huh.

Draco never told Danny his godfather could read minds. He could feel the light brushes of a foreign mind attempting to gleam information from his surface thoughts. Danny didn't know if it was his wizard ancestry or halfa weirdness that made him sensitive to this kind of stuff. Either way, it was useful in keeping his secrets in his head from privacy invading school teachers.

Danny glowered at Snape and immediately thought of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up music video.

The two of them stared at each other for a minute, making Draco more and more anxious as no one said anything.

Finally Snape broke contact, "Where should his things go?"

Danny tried very hard not to smirk after winning that staring contest, "You can just leave them here, we'll get them later."

With one last displeased sneer, Snape turned to Draco. "I'm needed back at Hogwarts. I trust you are in good hands."

Draco nodded, still looking tense and anxious as hell.

Snape walked back to the fireplace. He paused next to Draco, "Take care of yourself Draco."

Draco softened under his glare, "I will Professor. Thank you."

Snape nodded and shot one more glare at Danny, who still had Rick Astley echoing in his head, before vanishing into the fireplace in a swirl of green fire.

Draco turned back to Danny and said, "You stress me out."

Danny snorted before walking back into the kitchen to put his bowl in the sink. Draco followed after him, looking at all the kitchen appliances with a barely hidden curious look.

"Something else we have in common."

"What are you wearing?" He asked with a nose scrunched in displeasure.

Danny shot him a look, "My pajamas, cause I just woke up. I haven't finished getting ready for school. You should probably change too."

"Why?"

Danny started for the stairs, Draco still following at his heels. "You can't wear robes to public school. I think you can fit in my jeans."

"What?!" Draco screeched, halting at the bottom of the stairs, "I'm not going to muggle school with you!"

"It's either that or stay here by yourself for hours." Danny said as he paused outside his room. Draco scrambled up after him. "Cause my parents won't be home for a couple more hours, after which you'll be alone with them till I get home."

Danny smirked at him, "My parents are going to be thrilled to see you, can you really handle their enthusiasm all by yourself?"

Draco could barely stand Danny showing various forms of physical affection, as proven last summer when Danny would throw an arm around Draco's shoulders and almost get hexed. And Ancients forbid Danny try to hug him. Draco might actually lose the wand and just punch him. Danny had spent most of their correspondence over the school year prepping Draco for the Fenton welcome wagon so he wouldn't hiss like a cat when he gets hugged. Okay, and maybe Danny just wanted to see his overdramatic brother's face as he is subjected to his parent's bear hugs. 

Draco scowled at him, "Fine. But I'm not wearing any jeans."

Draco stomped into Danny's room and slammed the door in his face. He heard the lock click as it was shut.

"Hey! I still gotta get dressed!" Danny banged on the door, "C'mon Drake it's still my room!"

Danny groaned before walking over to the bathroom. He phased through the wall and landed on the fire escape. It took a few minutes, but he eventually maneuvered to his window and slipped in.

Draco had dug into Danny's closet and pulled out the most dressy tux Danny owned and was in the middle of putting it on. 

"You are not wearing that."

Draco scowled at him, "It’s bad enough I'm lowering myself by going with you-”

“Lowering yourself?”

“-But,” he said loudly, “I absolutely refuse to wear common muggle wear. If I’m going to this school, I will not look anything less than my absolute best.”

Danny stared at him. “Drake you will be thrown into the dumpster if you wear that to my school. Let me just-”

Danny jumped on him, trying to remove the suit jacket from a struggling Draco. Draco shouted and tried to twist away, only for Danny to pull it over his head. Once Draco was out of sight, and swearing loudly at him, Danny subtly used his intangibility to yank it off him. And if he happened to remove all of Draco’s hair gel that he used to keep his hair slicked back….well, that would have gotten him thrown in a dumpster as well.

Danny tried not to laugh as Draco glared at him, his hair fluffed up and looking vaguely like an angry kitten. 

"Do you know how long it takes me to fix my hair? I have to completely redo it now! And how'd you get that off me?" He pointed at the jacket Danny was throwing back in his closet.

Danny grinned at him, "Magic."

Draco gave him a flat look.

"Anyway we've got to go, otherwise I'm gonna be late again, and get detention again, and you'll be forced to either walk home by yourself or stay at school with me."

Somehow Danny had managed to get dressed and drag Draco out the door with him, texting Sam and Tucker his plans to walk so they could meet up on the way.

"What is that?" Draco leaned over to squint at the phone in Danny's hand.

"My phone. I told you about it last summer."

Draco hummed, "I thought it was broken?"

"Yeah, cause your magic blew it up. My parents fixed it." Danny shoved his phone back in his pocket like Draco was about to blow it up again. "Now what happened?"

Draco shot him a glance, before letting his eyes flicker around them. "I did try to tell you muggle 'technology' and magic doesn't always go together."

"Drake, you know that's not what I mean." He said softly.

Draco was silent, his jaw clenched and his hands shaking before he shoved them in his pockets.

They walked in silence for a while.

"You'll get hurt."

Danny looked at him.

"I…." Draco sighed, "I've never…."

Danny waited silently for him to get the words out on his own, knowing that pushing him will only make him clam up.

"You aren't like us. And I don't mean that in any bad way!" He said quickly when he saw Danny's face. "But you know what my parents are like, and their friends are so much worse, and you're the first person I've ever had to worry about. I just want you to be safe."

Oh Ancients, that was a lot to unpack there. 

Danny had known something had happened during school. The two of them spent the school year exchanging letters, both of them wanting to stay in contact. Danny would tell him about his school, and his parents' antics, and explain random muggle technology to get Draco prepared for his summer with the Fentons.

Meanwhile, Draco had complained at length about Potter and a tournament and Potter being insufferable about a tournament. There was a furious letter about being turned into a ferret and how Potter and his friends keep bringing it up. Draco sent him about three feet of parchment around Christmas just making fun of Potter at a dance and how horrible he was. There was a lot about some famous Quidditch guy and then a lot about Potter’s friend stealing the famous Quidditch guy.

Draco complained about Potter a lot, okay?

But Draco never sent him a letter about the tournament results or if Potter got eaten by a bog witch or whatever it was he was hoping for the last task. He just showed up, two weeks early and clearly shaken about whatever it was that happened.

That isn’t a good sign at all. And Danny had eavesdropped enough last summer to get a decent idea as to what was going on.

“This is….this is about him isn’t it?”

Draco flinched, which was enough answer for him. Danny let out a breath.

“We can-we can talk about this later. I care about you too Drake, and I know your family is neck deep in this mess.” Danny bumped his shoulder, “You’re safe here, that’s why Narcissa sent you here right?”

Draco leaned against his brother’s shoulder, eyes still flitting across the street and his jaw clenched. “Yeah. We’re safe here.”

[blacknailpolishonguitarstrings]

O Children

Minerva couldn’t sleep. Ever since the war had begun, she had become more and more restless in her sleep, increasingly worrying Poppy. Thus, she did not miss a single second of the sharp, rapid, loud knock on the door of their little cottage that sounded at 4 am on that cold November morning. Tightening the string of her checkered green plaid robe, she walked rapidly down the stairs, leaving the vapour of her cup of tea resting on the window sill to god up the window. The lower floor of the house was plunged deep in darkness, the only light coming from the porch lamp whose glow glittered through the door’s coloured glass panels. Gripping her wand tightly, she unlocked the door.

“Albus!” She gasped. “What type of ice cream did I get at Florean’s in Diagon Alleys on August 22nd, 1975?”

Her wand was pointed right at the centre of his chest omnipresent reminder of the war.

“Raspberry sprinkled with rose petals and lavender-infused chocolate topped with almond brittle,” said the old man tiredly.

He looked weary the twinkle in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles dim, long white hair and beard having lost their silvery shine, clothes dusty. It was almost as if more wrinkles had appeared on his face since the last time she had seen him, rendering his face even grimmer, a gloom look stretching across his features.

“What happened?” She asked tightly. “Who…who died?”

Her friend’s silence was unbearable, hanging heavy in the air, announcing in-pendent doom.

“I can’t remain long, I must go and take care of matters, but I assumed you would wish to be notified among the first…”

“Albus. Who. Died?” She repeated.

He sighed.

“Peter Pettigrew and…James and Lily Potter, all murdered by Sirius Black.”

An icy, unpleasant, terrifying wave of cold flooded her veins, disbelief painted on her face. It wasn’t possible.

“No,” she whispered. “There must have been an error. No. Sirius would never do such a thing to James and Lily. They were his best friends. You are wrong.”

The Headmaster watched her with compassion as she muttered “no” under her breath over and over again, refusing to acknowledge the hard and bitter truth. It felt as if the world was spinning at breakneck speed around her, dizzying her. Everything swam before her eyes, blurring and mixing, a kaleidoscopic slush of colours, and numerous seconds passed before Minerva realised that the thin watery veil clouding her gaze was burning hot, unspilt tears. Her grip on the door handle was so tight her knuckles had turned white.

“When? How?…Why?” She breathed raggedly.

“We don’t know exactly,” started Albus gently. “All we know is that Sirius Black was the Potter’s Secret Keeper, he allegedly betrayed them, which led us to believe he reconnected with his family and worked closely with Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew attempted to warn and save Lily and James, and in a fit of madness, Black blew up the street and killed Pettigrew along with thirteen muggles. He was found in a muggle neighbourhood nearby and has since then been arrested and sentenced to Azkaban for life. It was debated whether or not he should receive the Dementor’s kiss, but the judges decided upon a life sentence at Azkaban. I am still waiting for more information, and I will send you the full Order report as soon as it is ready. Members of the Order are of course working on the case along with the Ministry Aurors.”

She watched him tiredly, still refusing to believe him.

“Now, if you will excuse me, Minerva, I unfortunately still have urgent matters to attend to, I cannot remain any longer. I present you my sincerest condolences for your loss, I know that they were all very dear to you, and excellent students. I myself am still quite disbelieving at the situation.”

She looked at him stonily.

“No, you are not,” she thought, but she only asked:

“And Remus? And harry, James’ and Lily’s child?”

“Mr. Lupin hasn’t returned from his mission yet, as for young Harry…I’ve taken care of it

An uneasy feeling overcame her.

“Albus, what did you do?”

The elderly wizard failed to meet her eye.

“I have left him with his last living relatives, the Dursleys. Petunia Dursley was Lily Evans Potter’s sister—“

“I know that, “ snapped Minerva. “What I do not understand is why you thought this was a viable solution. I have met the Dursleys. They are close-minded, rude, and despicable people. They are not a good family or entourage for Harry to grow up in. Petunia Dursley could barely stomach her own sister, I shudder at the thought of how she will treat her nephew. Neither James nor Lily would have wanted this for their son, Albus, I can’t—“

“It does not matter, Minerva,” he cut her off. “While I appreciate your concerns, the matter is sealed and there is nothing to be done now. I have my reasons, and I hope you will trust me as you have done many times before. I wish you a pleasant evening, or well, rather morning I suppose.”

He turned around, his robes sweeping the floor as he walked away until he was nothing but a mere silhouette amongst the shadows, all semblants of warm, glowing light gone.

“Bastard,” seethed the witch after him, before slamming the door shut.

The shock of wood against wood resonated around her in the darkness. She did not know what to do now, what to say, what to think, what to feel. For the first time in years, Minerva was lost. She stood there, back pressed against the hard door, wand held tightly in her wrinkled hand, dark brown hair streaked with gray tumbling down her shoulders, and felt oddly empty, almost numb, as she looked curiously at the single ray of moonlight piercing through the back windows. The old stairs creaked in the far left corner of the living room, and a trembling golden glow filled the lower floor of the white brick cottage. Poppy appeared behind the sofa, gripping her wand whose tip was alight with a soft shine, wrapped in her midnight blue nightgown. She looked weary and pale in the dim light, almost ghost-like, her quivering lip betraying her inner turmoil. Minerva stared at her blankly, as she approached her.

“Minnie,” whispered her wife, kneeling in front of her, placing a soft hand on her wrinkled cheek.

“That’s what they used to call me, James and Sirius, Minnie, mum…they were the only ones who dared to,” she croaked.

“I know,” said Poppy softly, wrapping her arms around her frail shoulders, hugging her tightly. “They were wonderful children and—“

“He killed them,” interrupted Minerva hoarsely. “He killed them…”

She shivered, whether it was coldness or something else, much darker, buried inside of her, she did not know, but she began trembling violently.

“VOLDEMORT KILLED THEM!” She roared, eyes blazing, face red, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Minerva,” murmured Poppy, chocking on her name, as she held her crying wife in her arms, who shook violently, wracked by uncontrollable sobs.

“He killed them, he killed them, he killed them,” she muttered over and over again, face buried in the crook of Poppy’s neck.

Neither of them had any idea how long they stayed there, on the cold hard floor, leaving against the entrance door of their house. But, soon enough, the morning sun’s first golden rays began filtering through the windows. The sky was beautiful outside, a painted canvas of amber, orange and pink fading into a dark blue in one corner and a clear azure in the other. It was all awfully joyful and pretty, considered the grim circumstances. Exhausted, Poppy got up, and holding Minerva by the elbow, led her to the upholstered burgundy armchair overlooking the small fireplace where coals lay cold and dead amongst the ash. She settled weakly into it, covering herself with a large plaid blanket. She felt nothing, no pain, no sorrow, no joy, nothing. Her mind still hadn’t fully processed the loss, and the first shock of emotions having been evacuated by hours and hours of mourning the dead, she was now empty, hollow.

“Poppy,” she said quietly, taking the small green hand-painted ceramic mug her wife handed her, having come back from the kitchen. “Do you honestly believe, Sirius…”

She stopped, her voice cracking, a shy remnant of the power it used to be.

She took a deep breath in, before trying again.

“Do you think Sirius killed James, Lily, and Peter?” She asked in a small voice,

“Of course not, replied Poppy, taking a sip of her tea. “I don’t believe Sirius would be able to kill someone in the first place, let alone murder his best friends.”

Minerva nodded,

“I do not think so either, but…I don’t know, something is wrong…”

Silence settled in their home, as the birds chirped merrily outside, welcoming the new day with joy and excitement. Suddenly, a loud knock sounded at the kitchen window. Minerva stood up heavily, and leaving her empty teacup on the worktop, she opened it, letting the waiting owl in. Running her hand gently through its glossy tan plumage, she took the newspaper from its claws and slipped five Knuts into the small leather pouch tied at its leg. Big headlines printed in bold black letters glared back at her from the white paper, screaming victory:

“Dark Lord vanquished and gone, for good this time”

“Dark Lord dead: Wizarding Britain celebrates”

“Harry Potter, the young saviour of our world”

She skimmed briefly through the paragraphs, squinting at the fine print, shaking her head slowly.

“Fools,” she thought.

She opened the Daily Prophet to the second page and dropped it in shock when Sirius Black’s desperate face stared back at her from the black and white moving picture. An Auror was restraining him, holding him at wand point, as he desperately attempted to free himself from her iron grip. His face was a mask of pure anguish and misery, as tears ran down his face, his usually lustrous black hair sticking in mangy strands to his skin.

“I’m so sorry.”

He appeared to be mouthing the same three words over and over again.

Above the picture, the headline read:

“Sirius Orion Black: murderer, madman, and traitor”

Facing Poppy who was watching her worriedly, she whispered, voice breaking:

“I must find Remus, now.”

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

I found this on Instagram and honestly, I wanna ask why???? One would think that threatening your supposed brother with his worst fear would be enough for people to understand that JC is not a good person

"Well well, the YiLing Laozu has died? Who was the one to kill him?”

“Who would have other than his shidi, Jiang Cheng, he put an end to his own brother for the greater good. (Jiang Cheng certainly DID tell the world this even though the seal was what ended Wei Wuxian).

Jiang Cheng led the Sects YunmengJiang (He also DID do this since he knew exactly where the wen settlement was and slaughtered civilian Wens with The Jins), LanlingJin, GusuLan, and QingheNie (Now, we all know as the story tells us these other two were in the wings compared to the leading forces) to destroy his hole, at Burial Mound.”

However, there was a nagging thought which stayed in the back of everyone’s mind; Nobody could summon Wei WuXian’s fragmented soul, though he had died at Burial Mound.

Perhaps it had been torn apart by the thousands of ghosts that devoured him. (Cue Wei Wuxian "let's make one thing clear, I killed me thank you")

Or, just maybe, it had escaped. (Cue Q-conspiracy Jiang Cheng "WEI WUXIAN I'LL FIND YOUR SOUL AND DESTROY IT)

If it was the first, then all was well. Nobody doubted the fact that the YiLing Laozu had the power to move mountains and empty seas. But, if it escaped, his soul would eventually return to be reborn, or possess a body. If that day came, the cultivation world, the whole world, would be faced with the most crazed damnations and vengeance, sinking into nothing but chaos and blood. (Oh hey look early foreshadowing for Jiang Cheng's M.O. for a whole thirteen years because he went obsessive).

To add on to that point above:

A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain that this person was Wei WuXian, and all of the blood in his body started to boil. Yet, now, Zidian was clearly telling him that he wasn’t. Zidian definitely wouldn’t deceive him or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I’ve done things like this in the past anyways. After thinking it through, he made a gesture. The disciples understood his intentions and came over. (Jiang Cheng in his own head, in his own MIND says he is gonna set his disciples to drag away someone he suspects of being Wei Wuxian and has done this before enough times for his disciples to know the gig and let him torture away at Lotus Pier. THE MAN SAID IT HIMSELF AND MADE IT FACT AS LAN JINGYI DAYS LATER AND IS NOTORIOUS FOR BEING A PSYCHO TORTURER OF RANDOS).

That infamous meeting:

Wei WuXian immediately raised his head, “I haven’t forgotten! It’s just that…”

Yet, he just couldn’t find the right words to put after it.

Jiang Cheng interrupted, “It’s just what? You can’t say it? Don’t worry, you can go back to Lotus Pier and say your excuses while kneeling in front of my parents’ graves.” (YEAH GEEZ, just wants TEA with his estranged cut off Shixiong not brother and never was a brother cause martial is not the damn same as relatives, never mind that Wei Wuxian doesn't want that and definitely doesn't want to after Jiang Cheng insults Lan Wangji's entire person.)

Bonus:

Seeing Jiang Cheng turn around, Wei WuXian immediately pulled a mixed expression of “ I’m so shocked, my secret has been disclosed,” and “what do I do now that Wen Ning has been found”. Jin Ling was actually quite clever. Knowing that Jiang Cheng hated Wen Ning more than anything, he made up such a smooth lie with the previous knowledge he had. Jiang Cheng knew that the YiLing Laozu and the Ghost General often appeared together, so he already suspected that Wen Ning was in the area. Having heard Jin Ling’s words, he was already mostly convinced, and Wei WuXian’s expression convinced him even further. On top of that, he burst into a fury whenever he heard the mention of Wen Ning’s name. With his eyes blinded by wrath, how could he still have doubted? The hostility that built in his chest was almost making him explode. He flicked his whip, hitting the ground beside Wei WuXian, and spoke through clenched teeth, “You really take that obedient dog of yours everywhere, don’t you?!” (Jin Ling coming in with that "Yeah, my Jiujiu is crazy but I know how to take advantage of that to save you." You go Jin Ling, four for Jin Ling.)

Wei WuXian spoke, “He’s been dead for a long time, and I’ve died once as well. What else do you want?!”

Jiang Cheng pointed the whip at him, “So what? My hatred would persist, even if he dies thousands of times! He didn’t perish back then. Very well! I shall destroy him today, with my own hands. I’m going to burn him right now, and scatter his ashes right in front of your face!” (In the eternal words of Jiang Cheng "Can I not just hate you?" And everyone else who loves you and befriends you too because I blame you for choosing them over me and will choose to hurt them out of spite and jealousy.)

Keep in mind this is only book one still and Wei Wuxian has already put his full trust in Lan Wangji even before Lan Wangji ends the identity farce himself:

He had always thought that Jiang Cheng would be on his side, and Lan WangJi on the one opposite to him. He could never have imagined that things would turn out so differently. (Do I really have to elaborate that Wei Wuxian doesn't want Jiang Cheng by his side anymore? Or even trust him.)

And in contrast to Jiang Cheng's crazed reaction and when Lan Wangji is reunited with Wei Wuxian:

However, having taken only one step back, his ankle twisted, and he seemed as if he almost collapsed on the ground. With a change in expression, Lan WangJi hurried over and tightly gripped his wrist like what he did last time, back in Dafan Mountain. After Wei WuXian had been steadied, Lan WangJi knelt down on one knee to examine his leg. Wei WuXian was rather shocked, “N-n-no, HanGuang-Jun. You don’t have to do this.”

Lan WangJi raised his head slightly, the pair of light-colored eyes boring into him, then looked down again and continued to roll up the leg of his trousers. Still under his grip, Wei WuXian could do nothing except to look up at the sky.

His entire leg was covered with the black bruise of the Curse Mark.

After staring at it for a while, Lan WangJi spoke in a bitter voice, “… I only left for a few hours.”

Wei WuXian shrugged, “A few hours is a long time. Anything could have happened. There, there. Straighten up.” (Hanguang-Jun is SO MEAN, keeping innocent little Jiang Cheng from Wei Wuxian, who he was never hurt physically, ever in his life. Stop being dramatic Lan Wangji!)

In conclusion insta:

[anxiouslyfred]

Black???? Out Mall

Summary: Most people do not believe that black is a colour the soulmate link can prevent you from seeing. A complete black out in a mall has Remus’s friend relying on the fact he’s never been able to see black and has far better dark vision because of it. Now he just needs to avoid making eye-contact with the only other person leading friends around the mall.

/\/\

Virgil's world had always been difficult to describe. People would talk about the world in shades of light and dark, white to black when mentioning the colours they couldn't see, but that could never work for him. Afterall, it's hard to explain that inside the night is dark brown and there's a specific shade of violet especially for midnight when everyone else just calls the dark black.

Part of him wished that there was a different colour he couldn't see, but no, there could be nothing black for him. Anything that would be black outside of the dark was a gentle ash green, far paler than people would believe, if they even considered that he couldn't see black true at all.

Mostly people just dismissed it, calling him a liar and that he could just say he didn't want to share. It had always been that way, from the first time his parents had asked what colour he couldn't see on the wheel to the crowd he befriended in school and finally following him into the work place. Each group that knew Virgil would only have him reply to the question once before he retreated, blocking them from ever getting close.

He did still find the ash-grey a comforting colour to wear though and would just claim to be trying out camouflage whenever someone commented on his usually black outfits. Once he managed to get a top that actually was ash-green but got put of wearing it after a few too many comments about his 'Summer look'. It felt like Virgil couldn't win, either he wouldn't be listened to about being unable to see black, or people would call out the times he mistook ash-green things for black ones. At least paints named the colours usually, so he didn't have to worry over mixing them up incorrectly.

/swap character focus\

All of Remus's room was maroon and green. Well if you asked him it was and he wouldn't give anyone a chance to argue with that. If he said something was maroon purple then nothing would change his mind, no matter how many people insisted the walls were painted black.

Currently Janus was the only person who had stuck around long enough to learn that Remus honestly couldn't tell when things were black and knew that when soulmates came up there would be a wonderfully long lecture over the many reasons, suppositions and stories Remus had over why people would claim such an absurd colour as black existed. Too many times they'd watch someone dismiss from all realms of possibility that Remus really couldn't see black and wouldn't until he met his soulmate only to quickly want to run away at the rather violent suggestions Remus had for “imbeciles obsessed with everything having opposites”. It was one of the more amusing things Janus found happening since befriending Remus and was at least generally harmless.

Remus was actually more interested in the places he could navigate better than everyone else. He'd perfected moving around in dark rooms, moving through the brown and around the objects that appeared other colours. For some reason if people could see black they couldn't see the other colours of objects in the night which frankly sounded like some evolutionary flaw.

He'd dragged Janus with him to all manner of deserted places, looking for ghosts and cool trinkets abandoned to time, despite their complaints that they could see nothing and had to be guided around constantly. It just gave Remus more chance to cling onto someone who wasn't shoving him away really.

This time though was not intentional, planned, or even something Remus had expected to be possible.

Everyone, literally everyone, said malls had back up generators and emergency lights in case there was a power outage or something went wrong; That you couldn't just cause a full on black out because they'd have emergency lights coming on in minutes so why was Remus suddenly having to pull Janus along carefully behind him and trying to remember the way out?

“You do know where we're going, don't you Remus?” Janus's normally carefully controlled voice was wavering, uncertain of the situation and what could be happening.

Remus couldn't blame them, almost everyone had sat down, or was stumbling forwards, trying to find a wall and then follow it somewhere. There was a group ahead that hadn't though. It looked like they were trying to do a conga line and possibly the person leading them could see where they were going.

If it hadn't been for the grip on his hand tightening and pulling him back to the present situation Remus would have raced after to find out if his was his someone who couldn't see black either. “Sure. You pulled us in at the entrance to that kids shop and that's back here, up in the lift... I'm gonna have to break into the lift now, aren't I?”

“Just look for some stairs. We can figure out the way back to the shop from there.” Janus sighed, trying for disappointed but just sounding scared at this point. There wasn't even a guarantee they'd be able to get out if they did manage to find an exit with this power-cut.

They'd carried on walking while muttering to each other, not wanting to have everyone they passed attempt to join up with them, and bringing them a lot closer to the group Remus had spied before. He definitely would have preferred to avoid the group now given he could see his brother as part of it, but the leader was heading directly for them.

“Yo, can you see or are you just wanting to trip over as many people as you can?” The leader of the group called and Remus was torn between making immediate eye contact and trying to avoid it as long as possible.

Janus had turned to the voice already and was tentatively trying to head in that direction so Remus had to keep pace if only so they didn't fall. “Much as tripping over everyone sounds like fun Jan would kill me if I caused him an injury.” He replied, focusing on Roman to avoid looking at the front of the group.

His brother's stumble literally cause the rest to all stumble too, only just gaining their footing before any of them fell. “Remus? What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Trying to find one of those gadget shops. See if we can steal their stock of night vision goggles so me and Janus can make a break for freedom. I see Patton, Logan and a stranger up front. New friend or did you describe me enough that they ran screaming any time you mentioned I'd pop in to bother you?” Now he'd said it, Remus actually thought finding some night vision goggles would be sensible, at least it would give Janus a bit more confidence in the dark. Plus then he could possibly even make eye contact with the hoodie clad guy.

“Virgil, Premier Tour Guide for dark halls and supplier of every worry you'll never need.” Roman introduced, attempting to bow and wave towards the front of the conga line but headbutting Logan's back instead.

Remus snickered at that, but before he could say anything Logan spoke up. “I do have to agree that even some poor quality night vision goggles would probably do us good right now. There should be one... Virgil, what shops are we next to currently?”

“Princey's favourite jewellers and it looks like there's a build-a-bear around the next bend. Ro, Is this the brother that thinks everything is maroon, or have we run into someone else?” There was something harsh in Virgil's words, as though whenever he'd come up between them Roman had upset Virgil with something he'd said.

“He's only got the one Remus. That much I can tell you. So are we joining up for now?” Remus nodded, turning to scan the shops along with Virgil, wondering if Logan would need any more details to locate the shop he'd thought of.

That didn't prove to be necessary as Logan was tugging and twisting in his spot of the conga line to turn them around. “We've come the wrong way then. Back around the corner, 5 shops along and there's a gadget shop. I definitely saw some night vision goggles when I was looking for cheap chemistry supplies.”

“Off we go then.” Virgil nodding, gripping Patton's hands on his waist to lead them off with Remus and Janus following behind.

Remus let them fall back a little, just enough that the group could hear their steps but they could talk quietly without the words being distinguishable. “Are you okay with joining them? I kinda just changed the plans on you when you wanted to find an exit as soon as.”

“If you promise not to even look at Virgil until I have some of those goggles on I guess so.” They demanded. “You could lose your special ability in the worst possible situation”

“Best thing about being unable to see black, it gives night vision while no other colour provides benefits to being unable to see it.” Remus snickered, moving a little faster once again.

There were fewer people in this section of the mall and all of them seemed to have reached the walls or some kind of furniture and decided to stop there to rest. It made for quicker movement, but also disappointed Remus a little that he wasn't getting to dodge them around human obstacles constantly. That did at least give him the opportunity to try going as fast as Janus could stumble along behind him and overtake Roman's little group in entering the shop.

“Everyone, I need a very specific thing from these shelves so you better be backing away from them now.” He snarled, dropping Janus's hands and beaming at the frightened squeaks let out from the customers and staff of the store. It wasn't often he could be this threatening when most people assumed his ruffles and lace meant he was harmless, despite how dark and unnerving the designs on them were.

He didn't waste time enjoying the fear though, hurrying to scan the shelves, trying to locate where the night vision goggles were. They couldn't have been a fashionable item to use since Remus was on one of the shelves further back and away from the tills by the time he found them. He didn't hesitate to start tearing the box of one open, grabbing as many more as would fit in his arms before heading back to where Janus was being pulled along beside Virgil now.

“I got goggles for everyone!” Remus bounced, already putting the open set onto Janus and trying to figure out the on switch. The instructions would be no help, with white paper and black writing the entire page just looked brown to Remus. “seeing yet? Seeing yet? Seeing yet?”

The repetition of the words was interrupted by hands shoving him away from the headset. “Shut up, get to opening boxes or go and see if you can pay for these at the checkout.” Virgil hissed, already removing the headset to check for the switch on it. “So you're Janus, I guess. Tell me if you can see anything through this now?” Remus heard the mutter as he was opening up the fifth box. He'd set 2 aside, intending to shove them into Janus's arms just in case he and Virgil would need them in a few moments, but for now he was going to stare at everyone's shoes while passing goggles to Virgil.

“You're a lot better at getting things functional than Remus is. I never heard your pronouns though, so can I have them?” Janus confirmed, already breathing a little easier as they stood looking around the store.

“Can't have them, they're mine already, but I go by he/him.” Virgil nodded, already taking the next and moving to help Patton get the goggles on.

Janus paused, looking towards the check out and back to the group they made. “I'm not some kind of Fae, you know. Although, given how well you're navigating through here, could you be? Or perhaps you just can't see black, like Remus here?” Their questions were prying and definitely spoilt some of the fun Remus had been hoping to have while trying to make eye contact with Virgil.

“You mean ash-green right?” There was a smirk and a snicker in Virgil's voice as Remus's head shot up to stare at his back, almost at the same time as Roman let out a loud groan.

“That's a Remus line! No becoming my brother, Virge!” Roman exclaimed, making everyone start snickering now. Only Remus seemed to notice that Patton had wandered off with his wallet out as soon as his goggles were functional. Apparently his wonderful theft wasn't allowed to actually be a theft. What a complete shame!

Virgil had sorted Logan out a lot more quickly than the first to, but held the last open set of goggles above Roman's head, just enough for one of the cords to brush his hair and shoulder. The shrieks only setting off more laughter and snickers from the friends. “If you're that scared of the night vision goggles, perhaps I shouldn't give you them.”

“You Nightmare. Give me back some sight, right this instant!” Roman's demands probably would have been more effective if he hadn't turned around completely in his fright. Still Virgil put them on him with no further argument, while Remus wished he could have scared his brother a bit more while stood in the dark.

The he realised that that was the last of their friends with night vision goggles on and he could actually find out if Virgil was his soulmate or not and had to leap over to him. “Can I see you now?” He cheered, getting their faces as close together as possible before whining when there was suddenly nothing to see.

“You better have got enough of those goggles for us or your next sight of me is going to be when I attack you!” Virgil snarled, though a hand tightening on his upper arm kept him close.

“Januuuuussssss, My soulmate if threatening meeeeee! Can I at least have the goggles to see if he still looks as hot while threatening me as I think he does?” Remus whined, leaning his head as far backwards as he could imagining he was still able to see Janus standing a little way behind him.

He didn't hear any response though, only the shuffling and a few snickers from his friends for a few minutes. Randomly he'd let out self pitying whines for a bit before he decided to see if the hand on his arm was far enough up he could nuzzle it with his head.

For all he'd heard about black as a colour it really wasn't that interesting when absolutely everything was covered in it with no distinction to offer shapes or forms. It did however give him the chance to try getting to know Virgil's body by touch he eventually thought, only to get his hands slapped away if they strayed off of his arms.

“Fine, if I put the goggles on you, are you going to stop trying to grope me?” Virgil eventually snickered, already pushing them over his head after shoving it upright again.

“No promises there, My Maroon,” Remus tried to leer but was already distracted looking around for their friends. “Where'd everyone go?”

“Well I think Patton's trying to figure out how many other set of goggles he can afford to give to everyone and Logan is trying to talk him out of that. Janus and Roman have both gone in search of the exit once more. All pretty much excuses to as Roman put it 'Leave the gloomy soulmates to get used to the dark.'” Virgil waved in a few directions before actually taking Remus's hand. “Getting to know you sounds more interesting than this new colour though.”

They might still be in a powerless shopping mall for an undetermined future, but at least Remus and Virgil had found their soulmates and proven that black definitely is a colour and they couldn't see it before.

[punz4lyfe]

Pokemon Journeys’ Bea.... Kinda Sucks

Hello again! After a weekend of contemplating, I’ve decided to write a little blog review of Pokemon Journeys’ version of Bea from SwSh. Originally, I was planning to do after we get a bit more episodes of Bea, but with all the leaked episode titles we’ve been getting, I’ve got a feeling we won’t see this lady until sometime at late-February, or even March, so let’s just get this outta the way now.

Also, please note that since Bea has only made two actual appearances in the anime, many of the points I will talk about will be subject to change depending on how the writers will handle her in the future, but with all that said, let’s get right to it.

Before we begin, let me just say this: in the games, I find Bea okay. And in Twilight Wings, I love her character and I feel she had a great amount of focus and depth. However, in the anime, I find her.... a little lame. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate her or anything and I feel she has a ton of great potential. So much so, that she could honestly surpass her Twilight Wings variation, but as of now, I’ve got some problems with her.

Problem #1: Her Goal/Motivation

So my first major problem with her character is her goal. Like almost every other trainer we’ve seen in Journeys, Bea wants to rise her rank in the World Coronation Series so that she can battle Leon and take his place as the world’s strongest trainer. But here’s my question for though: Why? Why do you want to be seen as the world’s strongest trainer?

In many past regions, almost all of Ash’s past rivals had the “what” to their goals: Conquering a regional league. However, many of them also had different “why’s” that added to their own motivation. Paul had a brother to prove himself stronger than, Alain had his whole thing with solving the secrets of Mega Evolution for Lysandre as well as finding a way to cure Chespie’s coma, and Gladion wanted to find his dad. From Bea, I’m literally getting nothing from her. Does she have a master she wants to prove herself to? Well, we later find out she trained under Johto’s Chuck, but that’s all really. Does she have some kind of troubling childhood where she was initially seen as weak by her peers, and now with the chance in hand, she can prove everyone wrong by becoming the world’s strongest trainer? As interesting as that sounds, that doesn’t seem to be the case, either.

Without any proper motivation, I have no reason to care for her goals. Please, writers, in her next appearance, please give us the “why” to her actions and not the “what”. Bea has a really cool design, so this is your chance in giving her a cool backstory to boot.

Problem #2: Her Team Sucks

As I’ve mentioned, Bea wants to conquer her way through the World Coronation Series and take Leon’s place. And how is she gonna do that? With a team of all-fighting types? That’s not good enough!

Fighting types are awesome undoubtedly, but like all types, they have their weaknesses. Imagine if Bea faced off against a trainer who, in turn, had a team of all fairy, flying, psychic, or ghost types. She would be completely screwed and she must’ve been pretty lucky to reach her current World Coronation status with a team like hers. There’s honestly a huge list of trainers I can think of who could completely screw Bea over, like Agatha, Skyla, or Sabrina. Heck, if you really think about it, if she were to face Leon, who we know possesses a Dragapult and Charizard, she honestly wouldn’t get far due to Dragapult’s half ghost typing and Gigantamax Charizard crushing her team like ants because it’s a flippin’ half flying giant. And if she were to take Leon’s place, it probably wouldn’t last long since someone can easily identify her preferred type and screw her over with the typings I’ve previously mentioned.

As a matter in fact, let’s imagine a what-if scenario: Ash using Gengar against her Grapploct, who the anime seems to be emphasizing as one of her strongest Pokemon. Looking up her Grapploct’s moveset in the anime, Detect would only delay the inevitable and Close Combat and Octolock wouldn’t do anything due to Gengar’s ghost typing, leaving Liquidation as the only option Grapploct would have to hurt Gengar. Meanwhile, all of Gengar’s own moves can easily affect Grapploct, especially Psychic. And before you bring up the time Gengar lost to Korrina’s Mienshao, keep in mind this, he was taken down by a Beat Up attack, a dark type move that’s honestly pretty broken if you think about it. Does Grapploct know any dark type moves? Nope. Would any of her other Pokemon know some? Most likely, but my point still stands that, with the right mon, you can easily screw up her own team.

That’s why many Champions and Elite Trainers have well-diversed teams. Because if they just stuck to one type, then someone could easily take advantage of that. Many of Ash’s past rivals also had well-diversed teams to keep the stakes high whenever Ash battled them, just look at Gary, Paul, Trip, Sawyer, and Alain. Speaking of stakes...

Problem #3: The Stakes Are Kinda Small

As I just mentioned, because of how straightforward her team is, the stakes of her and Ash’s rivalry are honestly kind of small in that regard. But that’s not all. I know this might be an unpopular opinion, but in all of her battles against Ash so far, I still don’t feel the reason to take her seriously.

Going back in her debut appearance, before her battle against Ash starts, she states that she previously beaten Korrina and called her ‘weak’. And to that, all I have to say, so? Ash has already beaten her a while back, and then he became a champion, and then he beaten her again. I have no idea what you’re exactly trying to prove with that, Bea. Not to mention, we didn’t even get to see who she used against Korrina and her Mega Lucario. Was it someone in her current roster or perhaps a secret weapon? Why would you hide this from us, writers?

Anywayz, going into the battle itself, Ash lost without defeating a single Pokemon. ...Yeah, I’m still not seeing the reason why I should take her seriously, considering the only mons Ash used were little baby Riolu and newcomer Farfetch’d. If it were a three-on-three with Ash using Dragonite, but he still lost, then I would see Bea as a big threat to his goals, but no. And while the lost did lower Ash’s own rank, be quickly raised it back up off-screen by her next appearance, so I guess that wasn’t much of a big deal overall.

In their next battle, Ash used Pikachu and Riolu again and it ended up in a draw, affecting neither of their ranks. Even with a draw, I don’t see any reason to take Bea seriously. While she managed to take down Pikachu, it should be noted that it took two of her Pokemon to do the job, plus Pikachu’s one of the most inconsistent characters in history, so him losing to Grapploct doesn’t really bring in a lot of stakes. And since Riolu and Grapploct tied, that pretty much spoils the fact that Ash’s aura dog will most likely take the W in one of their next battles, especially since Riolu has now evolved into Lucario.

Most rivals in the past usually consistently beat Ash a few times in a row to really set up the stakes for their rivalry. It would add interesting conflict and dynamic in their final confrontation, but considering the recent tie and that Ash only used his two newest mons in their first battle, I don’t really care about Bea as a rival. Not to mention, it took two mons to take down Pikachu, Dragonite and Gengar’s typings royally screw her over, Lucario’s evolution and Farfetch’d’s future one might set them up to be equal or even stronger than her mons, and Dracovish has the potential to be an absolute tank.

Final Points

Overall, with what we’re given so far, Bea kind of sucks as a rival. We don’t have any motivation or depth, her team sucks, and there aren’t really many stakes. She’s pretty much the generic mean boss lady we will have to defeat by the end of the journey. I honestly get a lot more stakes from FF7′s Turks.

But is she the worst rival that Ash has ever gotten? Not by a long shot, especially since the likes of Nando and Cameron exist omg Cameron why do you exist? And like I said, since she’s only made two appearances, there’s still a lot of room for improvement, so many of my issues with her could change over time. I just wanted to get this off of my chest and hopefully provide some insight to my fellow fans on how Bea could become a better character in the anime.

Though, I kind of feel there could be some better directions with her. Even if we get more development, her team will suck by the end of the day, so why not make her a rival for Korrina? They’re both fighting type specialists who aim to be the strongest, plus you could pull off a super cool rivalry over which is stronger; Mega Evolution or Gigantamaxing, with Lucario and Machamp respectively. I honestly feel Hop would be a better rival for Ash due to similar personalities, goals, and diversity in teams. Assuming Hop exists in the anime verse, of course.

If you made it this far, thank you very much for reading my thoughts over Journeys’ Bea! Please feel free to follow for more anipoke content! (am i cool already)

[zontiky]

okay so i tried to save this ask as a draft and it got deleted because tumblr is just such a functional website like that <3 but the prompt was “the hargreeves as ghosts in the apocalypse with five” or something like that i’m going to scream

this is SUPER long so i’m putting it under the cut hfkjsd

pre-five: the hargreeves siblings are dead. wait i feel a drabble coming on ooh

The Hargreeves siblings are dead.

Ben isn’t very aware of this at first. He’s been dead since 2006 -- he’s quite used to it, by now. What he is aware of, first, is light. Blinding white light. And Vanya, in the middle of it. He doesn’t close his eyes because he can’t feel pain, but if he could he thinks she would have made him blind. There’s light, and heat, and power, and then he closes his eyes anyway because the ceiling is collapsing around him and it’s instinctual.

When he opens them again he sees ash. Ash -- and Klaus.

He’s gotten used to Klaus, too. Klaus has a memorable sort of face; even if he didn’t, Ben has seen it every single day for almost twenty years. He doesn’t know if it’s actually been twenty years, for him. He doesn’t know how time moves for ghosts. Klaus has assured him it moves the same as it does for the living. Ben isn’t sure Klaus, stoned out of his mind, bleeding sluggishly from his arm, knew what he was talking about.

Anyway.

Klaus.

He’s wearing the coat he’s been flaunting around for the past week. His shirt is see-through, with little stars on it, like a pale imitation of the sky. Ben remembers his pants had laces on them, he’s sure they did not a minute ago, before the brightness that threatened to wipe out his very soul -- his soul is all he has left, really. His gaze drifts down anyway, to check.

Yes. Klaus’ pants have laces up the sides.

“No,” Ben says. Klaus is laying in a heap on the ground, his fingers curled like his tendons have been cut.

His lips feel numb because they always feel numb. Because Ben can’t feel at all. He takes a step. “No,” he says again, louder, surer. “No!”

Klaus looks up at him. His makeup is smudged, like it tends to be. His lips are bitten raw, like they tend to be. His hair is a mess, like it tends to be, and like it will be, always, because Klaus isn’t breathing.

Klaus is lying in a heap on the ground. Klaus is standing above his own body. Klaus is reaching for Ben like he’s hoping to touch him for the first time in years. Just when Klaus’ cold, dead, fingers brush his face, a voice from behind says, so quietly, dripping with disbelief: “Ben?”

Ben shuts his eyes and wishes desperately he could cry.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, for the first time in so, so long, but he also doesn’t feel it at all. He feels-but-doesn’t-feel someone turn him around, until they are saying, “Ben? Ben!” and he has no choice but to open his eyes and face the music.

Diego is gripping his shoulders like he is a dying man and Ben is the answer. Behind him, Luther and Allison watch them, stunned silent. Allison’s hands are pressed to her mouth. She looks like she wants to cry. 

And Vanya. Little Vanya, painted white. Her head is hung as her shoulders shake with the weight of the destruction she has so inevitably caused. (Ben would say he always knew she was destined for great things -- but he can’t, because he didn’t.) (Nobody ever said great things had to be good.)

The Hargreeves siblings are dead. Their bodies are strewn across what is left of their childhood home, smouldering and burning, and Ben is very aware of that fact.

righto anyway. so they have an emotional reunion but its also kind of bitter? id have to actually write this for it to make sense so lets skip it for now lol

five shows up

he cannot see them obviously bc theyre all ghosts

god if i did write this it would be such a monster of a fic and would take me like 2 years to finish i already know fhkjdsk

somehow ?? they manage to influence the world around them maybe? idk maybe now that klaus is dead hes sober

or maybe hes high for all eternity?

for the purposes of this au lets say he died sober or in the late stages of withdrawal, and bc ghosts cant feel pain in action hes sober

so EVENTUALLY they figure out how to corporealize bc klaus is like blam wham ghost powers

asdlfk that sounds so stupid im sorry

he would say that tho imho,,, it sounds like something hed say,,,

if i DID write this it would be alternating povs also,,,

ok so out of all of them klaus and ben have the most experience homeless

and while being stuck in an apocalypse is not at all the same thing as being homeless it does help to have some knowledge

five doesnt eat the twinkie!! good for him

dammit okay. theres 2 options we can take here. in the comics five couldnt get back bc he fucked up his math and spent 15 years doing the wrong thing, but if u apply that here, with 6 other ppl checking his work this could be avoided and they end up skipping the whole assassin shtick and just hopping straight back to 2019, ready to prevent the apocalypse

OR five still gets hired for the commission but the sibs are tagging along

i think bc five isnt completely alone in this au unfortunately dolores doesnt exist :((

for each other the 2 paths tho theres also options?? bc they (ghosts) can go back in time and inhabit their past selves bodies? OR they could just,,, cease to exist

IM JUST NOW REALIZING HOW MANY PATHS THIS COULD TAKE,, AAH FUCK

okay gonna split this into parts. this is gonna be so long brace yourselves.

1) they go back in time because math checking and the ghosts swap out for their past selves

after multiple years of being stuck in an apocalypse together i think they would learn to get along with each other. like at least a little bit

which would make it easier for them to prevent the apocalypse

bc theyd:

trust each other more

already know abt the apocalypse and not have to wait for five to grace them all with his knowledge

are working as a team from the very beginning

have open lines of communication

yeah uh. so there

vanya is also already aware of her powers so the whole harold goading her into turning against her family and snapping to wipe out all life on earth thing? yeah that doesnt happen

oh and harold wouldn’t know how to do that in the first place because klaus wouldn’t throw out reggie’s journal! this solves so many problems wtf

there’s still commission issues bc they (and by they i mean five) are on the commission’s radar

so there’s still dope fight scenes sdlkfd pinky promise

okay idk. they stop the apocalypse and everything is okay the end hfkjd

2) they fix the math but only five can go back and the ghosts cease to exist

this is just sad! it would be sad okay! im sad! lets move on

subset of the past one: ben CAN go back with five because he was already dead and time travel affects them differently or something idk

aaaaaa

five & ben dynamic duo would be dope as shit BUT five would not be able to see him... so they use klaus as a middleman fjsdsfd

is there 2 bens? is one ben deleted in favor of the time-traveling ben? i dont know! i dont know my brain is melting

either way shit is happening yall!! obviously klaus is clued in, directly or indirectly it doesnt matter but he is on board the ‘don’t let the entire world end in flames’ train

3) they join the commission and then when five goes back in time they all go back

this is fun because now five is a highly trained assassin who is also lowkey a complete marshmallow for his siblings and once again TEAMWORK WOO

basically the first path but now five has a gun fhsdjk

4) they join the commission but five has to leave them behind and they cease to exist

five with a gun but hes sad now

i didnt go into how much losing his siblings would suck in the prev path but like. it would suck so much. he’s already lost them once if you think about it when he time traveled the first time and yeah he found the adult ghost versions but,, its different

and now suddenly hes stuck with these strange adult versions of the people he knows and he KNOWS them but also he doesnt? at all? they dont have all the years of shared experiences together? and theyre all grown up from the first ‘set’ of siblings he had which for five was like 40+ years ago??

SCREAMS

i have losing my mind disease (self-diagnosed)

subset: five has to leave them behind but they still exist because the commission is out-of-time kind of? idk but they’re still floating around somewhere and come back to impact the plot later or something

yeah idk. literally just wrote them down bc i didnt want them to die^2 hfkjwehd

subset: they still exist but instead of being just Somewhere they’re specifically at the assassination of JFK onwards because thats where five left them and they either go on ghosting and make an appearance in s2 OR they cease because them-wise they havent died yet but that doesnt make sense because ghosts can time travel so nevermind

i dont have the brain energy left to explore this one aaaa

okay jesus christ i think that’s all

I DON’T KNOW. i don’t know. i might write some more of this because honestly it is a very fine flavor of angst + hurt/comfort <3

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 19: Shadow - Shadow Of Myself

Danny’s gotten himself hurt, but not to worry Valerie’s here. Now if only that stupid ghost Phantom wasn’t tagging along for the ride.

Valerie shifts her blaster in her arms, the metal creaking slightly, not sure what to do with the situation in front of her. Danny, human Danny, her friend and once love; was lying prone on the ground unconscious. And Phantom, that damn ghost ‘Danny’, archenemy and destroyer of lives; was practically cradling his torso and head, staring at her with a guarded ‘will you hurt me or help him’ look.

Valerie swallows, clicks her visor open and squints at him, but seeing the blood pooling on the ground makes her decision for her. Immediately dropping the weapon and rushing to kneel at Danny’s side. Snapping at Phantom and banking more than a little on him maintaining that ‘superhero’ facade he insisted on, “what happened”.

“Guys In White”.

That catches her off guard, “what?!?”, as she starts pulling out first aid while Phantom phases Danny’s sweater off. She doesn’t care or know why he burns it to ash. At least his freaky powers were useful for something, getting the top off with far less jarring than any human could manage. Him getting his damn shedding ecto-energy or whatever in Danny’s wound, or wounds, seriously doesn’t impress her though.

Phantom grumbles incoherently as he works practically seamlessly with her, using his intangibility to hold the skin over the large bullet hole apparently there closed without getting in her way of cleaning and sanitising. Using an ecto-flame to sanitise the needle to speed the process up. He does give her an actual answer though, probably trying to be a ‘distraction’, “they put a few things together”.

Valerie pushes the needle through and tries to ignore that she’s doing this to Danny’s body not hers, “put together what, Phantom”.

“Things”.

She makes her scowl very audible but doesn’t look away from her task. That’s enough to prompt him to explain further, good, “it’s not entirely my secret to tell, Val-”.

“Don’t call me that”.

She can hear the eye-roll in his voice, “Red. It’s his secret”.

Valerie scoffs, though keeps her hands working smoothly, pointedly ignoring the bits of blood getting smeared around, “like you have any problem spilling people's secrets”.

“That was to stop you from a suicide mission. Telling you his stuff won’t save his life”.

Fine. She’ll give him that one. That thing genuinely could have killed her. And Danny, this was bad but it wasn’t going to die here and now bad. If he was left alone then yes, he would... probably bleed out. And the only reason she was here was her scanner picking up on Phantom. Swallowing a little, “whatever. I would have been fine. But this whatever got him hurt. Even I know the G.I.W. don’t mess around and are extremists-”.

Phantom cuts her off, “coming from you that says a lot”. She pauses to glare at him very quickly before finishing up the stitching, “so we both know they absolutely would kill someone”. He doesn’t say anything as they move to sit Danny up, though his face ‘appears’ to be one of concerned concentration. Not that the ghost actually felt concern, it was just part of his stupid act. “Hold him”, he just nods as she moves to start wrapping Danny up. She’ll get the boy more genuine bandaging from her room, but he needs to be at least somewhat bandaged to get him there without risk. And as much as she’d like to get him the Hell away from the ghost, she’s not going to rush and risk his health just to do that.

Phantom sighs slightly after a while, “you do have a point”. Valerie huffs, at least he was willing to admit that. Snipping the bandaging and grabbing him under the armpits to move him onto her board after summoning it out.

Her actively scowling as Phantom floats up with her, even following after. Her snapping after a bit, “you’re like a damn shadow. I can’t shake you. Go away, ghost”.

Phantom giving a weirdly firm, “no”, immediately; which she glances at him for. The Zone was Phantom’s problem? Even with him insisting on his stupid false persona, he didn’t actively go out of his way to make sure people were fine outside of taking them to a hospital. She was perfectly capable of looking after Danny herself. Hell, she probably had better experience with anything ecto-related than the hospital did. “I don’t need your damn help, Phantom. And neither does he”.

Phantom scowls and rolls his eyes a little, “I know you won’t make him worse. You get along and won’t try sticking him in some anti-ecto bath or purifier dream catcher contraption like Jack and Maddie would”. Valerie has to blink those images out of her head, that was messed up and definitely something the  Fenton’s would do but she’s not about to let the Spook distract her, “then get lost. The only reason I’m not shooting you now is to avoid jostling him. That’s it. So go away, or else”.

Groaning over the stupid stubborn ghosts, “no”, as she flys through her bedroom window. Quickly moving to lay him out on her bed and immediately summoning out a small pistol, pointing it at the ghost, “give me one damn reason I shouldn’t pump you full of holes. I told you to get lost. I’ll be nice and let you leave, if you leave right now, for helping but seriously. Get”.  

Phantom stares at her for a bit, blinking once, “I... can’t”. Which fine, is enough to get her to pause.

Squinting at him, at him glancing from her to Danny and back. “And why the Hell not”. No point framing that accusation as a question.

The Spook squints at her right back, ghostly tail swishing in the air, “hinting at that answer is what the G.I.W. shot him over”. Now that’s enough to make her lower her weapon slightly. Only a little though.

Blinking and glaring at him, “so you really think I’d shoot him”. She almost feels insulted by that implication. Not to mention him still playing the stupid hero thing. ‘Protecting’ Danny.

He glances from her to Danny and back again for the second time, “that depends”.

Okay now she definitely is offended. Scowling meanly, “on?”. Did he have to be so stupidly elusive about everything and how dare he even claim she’d hurt Danny of all people.

“On how badly you want to ‘obliterate me out of existence’ versus ‘not get Danny hurt as collateral of your hunting’”, shrugging with obviously fake looseness, “or more specifically as collateral for your weirdly obsessive hatred for me”.

Her snapping, “it’s not obsessive when you destroyed my life, the town, and play this stupid hero crap to screw with the town and amass all your stupid ‘fans’”.

“That honestly sounds more like Ember than me”.

“Phantom”. Her pointing the pistol at him more genuinely again gets him to put up his hands in a surrendering motion, “hey hey now”.

“Well then start talking you damn ghost”, scowling a little at the raised eyebrow, “of course I care more about Danny than seeing you wiped off the face of this earth. Fucking duh, Phantom. Now explain”.

He stares like he’s judging her worth or some crap, like he’s anyone to judge that. “Have you ever compared us?”, adding when she just squints at him, “me and Danny, that is”.

She rolls her eyes though not taking her eyes off him, “why the Zone would I. And no, you having the same first name isn’t a reason to”.

Phantom scowls, “it was to them”.

She growls at him because this is getting annoying and she has a human Danny to look after, “stop beating around the damn bush and just spit it out already”. Him snapping right back at her, “because you won’t believe me”.

“Then why the fuck would the G.I.W. believe whatever!”.

“Because they don’t give a shit about him. Ancients, they tried to off a kid for having the same hair colour as me. Our similarities are way more suspicious!”.

Valerie smirks a little to herself at him looking like he hadn’t mean to say all that and seeming sheepish. Then frowning, “I don’t see a single damn similarity”.

“Personal bias due to personal relation. You don’t want to see the ghost you hate in the human you like, or the other way around. So you don’t. Same with the rest of the town. The G.I.W. aren’t blinded by that kind of bias”, him shrugging, “that’s what Jazz says anyway”.

That’s yet another thing that makes her pause and lower her weapon slightly, “you're... friendly with her”. What the Hell was that girl thinking?!? Dash or Paulina or even Sam she’d understand, but Jazz was a Fenton and freakishly smart.

“She knows things, yes. Figured it out on her own”, he sighs rubbing his eyes in obvious annoyance, “your suit has something that can tell a persons body measurements, right? Just use that”.

Valerie scowls, “I don’t take orders from you”, but does pop out the scanner while the ghost's tail solidifies into legs again and he plants himself on her floor dutifully. She scowls at him more for that. The nerve and ego, just entering a hunters home like that. At least this might make aiming at him easier, and locking onto him.

Turning the scanner on Danny though never taking her eyes off Phantom. Well until she pulls the scanner back over and glances at it. The thing read as reading the same body/person, the Hell? Scanning again, because was this thing malfunctioning. Audibly growling when the ghost chuckles at her. Stupid ghost found this funny. The results are the exact same. They had the exact same body shape, even hair shape. What the fuck. “Your bodies are the same”, he nods but frowns when she starts scowling at him, “what? Did you mould yourself after him or-”, scowl feeling and becoming genuinely angry, taking a step towards him, “are you Obsessed with him”, he immediately floats up waving his hands back and forth as she locks her pistol in on him, “that would explain why you constantly are ‘doing the job of a hunter’ and like puns so damn much! You just want to be near your fucking Obsession!”. Him successfully phasing through her floor to avoid the shot she fired off.

Him sticking his head over the window, at least the bastard was outside again, “what! No! That’s not it!”.

“Fucking bullshit!”, she immediately shoots at him again, “I’ve got no reason to believe a goddamn ghost!”.

“This is exactly what I was talking about!”, him phasing through the wall looking genuinely ticked off, “it doesn’t matter what I say or proof I give! You’re not going to believe me!”, and takes out her pistol with a small rock.

Her throwing the small crappy desk at him, all her furniture got an anti-ecto coating nowadays, “you’re a ghost!”.

He smashes the desk apart, “and you’re impossible!”.

Both of them jerking to a stop at a groan from the bed, snapping their heads over and both sighing when he doesn’t actually wake up. But it does knock a little sense into both of them. Valerie pinching the bridge of her nose and breathing. Looking back to Phantom, “get out. I don’t care what weird freaky ghost thing you’ve got for him. Leave. You don’t need to ‘protect’ him or whatever bullshit because I sure as shit ain’t harming him and I even more sure as shit ain’t going to let those G.I.W. asses anywhere near him. So get gone. Seriously. Fuck off”.

“Once again, I can’t”.

“Oh for fucks sake”. Scowling because she so doesn’t have time for this fucking bullshit, at least not until Danny is properly patched up. Moving as fast as she can and actually managing to catch the Spook by surprise with a hooked rope-like energy blast, pinning him to the wall and blocking out his powers. “Then just stay the fuck there and shut up. I don’t want to hear your crap”. Phantom rolls his eyes but thankfully doesn’t say shit, looks incredibly annoyed though; but what does she care. Instead focusing on getting the good bandaging and getting to work.

What does get her caught off guard again was that Danny’s wound didn’t look even slightly healed. Not a scab or nothing. She frowns, “why the Hell isn't he healing”, when she doesn’t get a response she looks to Phantom and scowls, “for the love of everything you pain in my ass. You can speak. Fuck I hate you. Happy?”.

Phantom smirks for a second, “yes. Very”, before frowning, “he’s not going to. Not like this anyway”.

Valerie grimaces at that, what the Hell did those men do to him? “Why?”.

Phantom opens and closes his mouth a couple times before watching her a little, “have you ever noticed that he doesn’t really seem... to heal like a normal person”.

Valerie rolls her eyes, everyone knew about Danny’s contamination problem and all the weird stupid complications of it. Like the clumsiness and just knowing when a ghost was about to show up. Then frowning a little, “so this has to do with his contamination”, that... that might be a problem. Danny’s contamination was unique even in the opinions of his parents. She barely knew the first thing in how to deal with that. No one did. Well, except Danny... and apparently his fucking ghost stalker.

Phantom sighs and looks around a little before looking to her face again, “he’s not contaminated. The ‘contamination’ is weird because he’s not ‘contaminated’”.

Valerie can’t help snapping at that, “then what the Hell is it and why do you know about it?!?”. Which he scowls at her over, “fucking complicated that’s what”, then shaking his head and seemingly calm in himself. Not that he should even be able to actually experience anger. “Ancients, do you have to be so difficult?”, sighing and mumbling something she doesn’t catch seemingly to himself before talking to her again, “I’m the ‘it’”.

“The fuck does that mean. The Hell did you do to him”, if she didn’t have him pinned she absolutely would be pulling another gun on him, she was tempted to as it was.

Phantom leans his head back, banging it on the wall, “ugh! Would you stop blaming me for everything?”.

Her snarking, “then stop being at fault”. He does chuckle a little at that but gives a weirdly hallow, “I hardly ever am”, and rights his head before she can comment on that, “okay look. Obviously not all us ghosties are the same, work the same-”.

She cuts him off, “a ghost’s still a ghost. Get to the point”.

He snaps at her a bit, “I’m bloody well tryin’, Ancients”. She waves for him to go on, effectively saying she maybe might not interrupt him. So long as he doesn’t say anything stupid. Which he will. He rolls his yes at her, “so as I was saying, we don’t all work the same. Surprise surprise, I’m a rare one”. Valerie muttering mostly to herself, “no fucking shit”, which he hears and chuckles at. Though she feels slightly more interested in this because no one had a damn clue why Phantom was fucking weird and this kinda sounded like she was about to find out. Though... apparently Danny was involved somehow. Which, she decidedly does not have a good feeling about.

“I’m what’s known as a Shadow, also called a half shade though. Only three of us exist”. Valerie actually whistles at that because damn. “Shade’s are what happen when the ghost's body was cremated or otherwise destroyed before they formed. Shade’s are... impressions rather than a whole”.

Okay that she has to butt in on, “but all ghosts are just ecto-impressions”.

Phantom looks at her like she’s stupid, “I thought you of all people wouldn’t believe that horse crap. If that were true born ghosts would be impossible, for one. For two, how the fuck would you get an emotional ectoplasmic impression of every fucking plant in the universe into one being? Or the time stream?”.

“There’s a time stream ghost”.

He rolls his eyes, “yes, but irrelevant. Basically none of Amity’s ghosts are Shade’s aka impressions. They are souls. Someone’s spirit. You know, that used to be in their body? Cremation and shit kinda wrecks the soul so you get an impression instead. Anyway-”. Valerie’s pretty sure he doesn’t realise how crazy and horrifying that is if it’s actually true. And sure there were plenty of people around Amity who tried to pitch the ‘ghosts are souls’ thing but literally every actual professional agreed that wasn’t the case. They were impressions not people. The ‘born a ghost’ and ‘timestream ghost’, if those were true at all, raised some questions though she guesses. Not pleasant ones, considering her job. But ghosts hurt people and were evil, not matter how the things were made. “-half Shade equals half impression. Duh”.

Valerie blinks at him, “so you’re half a typical ghost, that tells me nothing about Danny’s issue, Phantom. Though fine, nice to know why the heck things don’t damage you as much as they’re supposed to”, that was something that pissed her off to no end.

“I don’t have a corpse-”.

“Yeah no shit, you literally just said that ‘impressions’ don’t have those. Cremated or whatever. Still not the point”.

Phantom glares at her, “and you wonder why no one likes explaining crap to you”. She scowls at him for that while he continues, “as I was saying, I don’t have a corpse because I never had one. My bodies still walking around. Living. Breathing. Beating heart. You know, the works”. Valerie just stares at him because what the fuck was he trying to say here. That he was a dead of someone still alive? That makes zero fucking sense. “That makes no sense, idiot”.

Phantom actually snorts at that, “unnatural things don’t usually make sense. Hot tip, don’t stand inside a forming ghost portal. Electrocution’s also a pretty shit way to go. Well, half go”.

Valerie will admit to cringing at that, how ghosts died wasn’t really something she cared to think about or know. Especially since she’s sure most went in pretty nasty ways. “Congrats, that sounds.. awful”, tilting her head, “wait”, while Phantom mutters, “oh it was. Don’t recommend”.

Valerie squints at him, “Danny got electrocuted bad. His...”, frowning, “his parents said that gave him the... contamination”.

Phantom nods slowly, almost softly, “yeah”. While Valerie’s having just a slight freak out here. “Me forming was strange for everyone involved. But we hit it off immediately, got along. Makes sense being one and the same. Part of each other”, he does the closest to a shrug he can and she really doesn’t like where this is going, “it was ultimately him who chose my name you know. Danny Phantom for me, because it sounds like his. That, and it’s a pun”, chuckling and not even looking at her, like he was talking to himself at this point, “my suit, chosen by him. My symbol, designed by another human friendly. I am his pride and joy, I exist because of him. I’m his shadow”, looking to her, “Danny Fenton’s Shadow”.

Valerie just stares at him for a bit, “bullshit. You- no you are not part of him. No- what the fuck”, and scowls at him. The stupid thing is, it explained being identical. Stupid stupid stupid. She wanted nothing to do with it and didn’t want it to be happening. Holy fuck.

Phantom sighs and gives her a look that’s close to pitying, which she is absolutely having none of and promptly slaps him lightly; though he moves his head with it likely out of shock more than anything else. “Oooookaaaaay. I go baring my metaphorical soul to you and tell you my freaking death and you slap me? fucking seriously Val?”.

Valerie smacks him again but gentler, “don’t call me that!”.

“That an order to both me’s or just the dead one”. The bitter slightly snarky comment is more than enough to get Valerie’s mind back on track and force her to force herself to calm down. Valerie moving to sit against the bed leg and run a hand through her hair, sighing loudly. “Danny, living Danny, can call me whatever the Hell he wants. You call me Red, Phantom”, leaning her head back and sighing again, “this is really messed up”, sighing for the third time, “are you... are you seriously saying that you are part of Danny?”.

Phantom leans his head back, “intrinsically. Symbiotically eve-”. Valerie cutting him off with a snap, “explain”. That seems to get him upset again, him jerking his head up and eyes flaring green, “explain what!?! I already told you how this crap happened to us!”.

“That’s not what-”.

“Ancients fuck why did I think this was a good idea?!?!”.

“Phantom shut up”.

“No! Fuck you at this point! Ancients fuck!”.

Valerie blinks at him as he just bangs his head into the wall angrily. This didn’t seem faked. It really really didn’t. Maybe being half whatever changed things. Oh goddamnit. Her whispering, “you really actually do have emotions, don’t you”.

“Surprise surprise! All of us fucking do! It ain’t shit unique to me! Hunters are just a bunch of fucking bigots!”.

Valerie cringes at that. Curling up and tucking her knees under her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. “I fucked up”

“Oh you don’t say miss decides to hunt, maim and destroy an entire species because of a fucking dog wrecking some shit and labelling them all less than human things that deserve to be conquered into oblivion like some crappy ass Christopher Columbus”

“Okay that was just mean”.

“Fuck off. I think I’ve fucking earned being mean to you”.

Valerie blinks at him, she had never seen Phantom behave like this. Sure he got ‘mad’ sometimes but what the Hell. Was it because of her less than stellar reaction to him ‘baring his soul’? But how could the bastard blame her? He was telling her that he was an impression of one of her only friends! Someone she had -and still has if she’s honest with herself- a crush on! How the fuck was she supposed to react to that bullshit. Hell! She wouldn’t even consider it if it wasn’t for the identical crap and Danny not healing... Shaking her head, she shouldn’t be focused on some ghost when Danny needed help. Sighing, “ignoring everything. How the Hell do I or we or whatever, get him to heal”.

Phantom scowls audibly and loudly at the ceiling before huffing and looking down at her, “humph. Well I guess that’s one fucking way to make what you care about more obvious”, and huffs again, “well for bloody well starters you'd have to let me off this fucking wall”. Valerie glares at him because Hell no, she wasn’t freeing him so he can just run off or do who knows what. He scowls at her, “for once in your life could you maybe, maybe, believe I don’t have some stupid ulterior motives for crap?! And besides! If I was bloody well strong enough to do shit right now I wouldn’t even be stuck at all! Heck! You wouldn’t even be helping at all”.

Now that catches her off guard, “so they messed you up too”. So Phantom was ‘too weak’ to fix Danny himself, meaning the ghost actually intentionally lured her to them... and she can’t even be mad at that.

He scowls at her some more, before grumbling, “can’t genuinely harm one without the other”. Which makes her pale a little. That was why Phantom had been defensive and asked what she cared about more. To destroy him... she’d have to hurt Danny. Maybe even kill him. Swallowing thickly, “oh”. Phantom gives back the most sarcastic, “yeah”, she’s ever heard.

She shifts a bit uncomfortably, “so... what’s wrong with you? Will ‘fixing’ you ‘fix’ him?”, she can hardly believe she’s asking after a freaking ghosts well being. She absolutely doesn’t blame him for squinting mistrustfully and disbelievingly at her. Him leaning his head back and speaking after apparently deciding she was ‘being genuine’; whatever that meant to a ghost... or part ghost whatever. “Okay it’s easier to just fucking explain what they shot us with”.

“So they shot both of you with whatever”.

Phantom sighs, “they only shoot once. One bullet”. Which makes zero sense, “what? Did they just hit both of you at once? That’s stupid terrible luck even by Danny’s standards”, Danny did have truly awful luck; this ‘Shadow’ thing felt like proof of that.

Phantom shifts a little, “kinda”, moving his hands around as much as his bindings will allow as he explains, “the thing basically caused some heart/core attack bullshit, which made us fall out of sync and kicked me out. Gave me the boot very painfully might I add-”, glares at her, “-for both of us. Also effectively paralysed my Core, hence being stupid weak and not being able to replenish any ecto I spend. Can’t recover for shit”.

Valerie hums a little to herself, “so you can’t heal either”, which would make it brutally easy to destroy the ghost. No wonder the G.I.W. wanted to do this... but with Danny involved no way can she even consider that. Then squinting as that nagging ominous feeling returns, “what do you mean ‘kicked you out’”.

Phantom sighs and looks around awkwardly, “I told you. Symbiotic. Codependent. Coexisting. Cohabitating. Yada yada. Etcetera etcetera”, nodding his head in Danny’s direction, “I know you and everyone else wonder where the heck I constantly fuck off to all the time. When I’m not out showing some ghost what’s what, I pretty much stay asleep in Danny’s body”.

Valerie blinks and gapes at him, “so a weird fucked up overshadowing”. She’s trying not to be ticked off. She really is.

“What? No. There’s no ‘someone taking control over someone else’ going on and you sure as shit don’t share organs with any ghost overshadowing you”. That thought makes Valerie mentally shudder, the idea of a ghost invading her body was bad enough but also mixing in Its organs; Hell no. Her blinking a little though, “you... share organs? Like, the Core? And your ectoplasm which I guess is why everyone thinks he’s ecto-contaminated but it’s really just you being there?”, squinting at the air, “does he need your Core to heal or something”. That would be exactly Danny’s luck; and hers too honestly. Zone damn this stupid ghosts Core having a ‘helpful’ hero complex.

Phantom shrugs and looks around, apparently calmed down fast enough to nearly give her whiplash, “ectoplasm does the healing actually. So the paralysed Core thing doesn’t really matter there”, grumbling a little, “still a fucking pain in the ass, or Core, though”, sighing and nodding his head at Danny again, “but yeah, our Core and heart are basically intertwined”, scowling, “and I’ve never been awake and up and about this long before. Which apparently makes me cranky and emotional”, actually growling a little which pretty well confirmed him being moody, “which is making me deplete my energy even more. Which is annoying and making me more pissy”, grumbling at the floor, “fucking bullshit cycle of bullshit making a giant mound of awful smelly dragon shit and maybe someone threw in some diarrhea to really drive me up the walls in some desperate attempt to escape the literal sea of bullshit”.

Valerie blinks and snorts a little, “oh stop whining you ecto-baby”, then grimacing, “also, that’s seriously disgusting”. He scowls at her but chuckles a little. Her shuffling and standing up, being more serious, “if this keeps up with you, you’ll run yourself dry, right? Probably destroy yourself”, continuing at his annoyed nod, “and what? Will Danny just not heal then?”. That would be bad but if it wasn’t for the fact that he wasn’t waking up then he could arguably live fine. He’d just have to stay on top of the perpetually open wound and be more careful to avoid injuries. But... him healing would be better. Stupid Phantom having to be inside his freaking body or not.

Phantom rolls his eyes, “worse than ‘not heal’. I ‘die’, he dies. A person doesn’t get to exist as half a soul. Our odd crap pushes the boundaries of nature already as it is. Death and life has already had it up to here with us”, huffing, “and he’s not waking up because he’s effectively feeding me emotional energy through the air in an attempt to make up for my stupid lack of ecto-energy. Just the same I’m feeding him shedded ectoplasm to try to encourage healing. It’s enough to stop the bleeding but that’s it. Hence why I can’t leave. Both of us will fall apart. Well okay, he’d hemorrhage blood like a fountain, I’d dissolve into a puddle of ectoplasmic goop. Which would make your floor a very not pretty painting”.

Valerie looks down at him then to Danny, roughing her hair up which she absolutely catches Phantom mutter, “damnit, that’s hot”. Making her snap her head to him and screw her face up, “what???”, his cheeks are practically glowing green so he probably hadn’t meant to say that. But also, who the heck goes from graphic descriptions of death to ‘oh by the way you’re hot’.

He immediately gets all defensive, “we share everything! all right! Memories. Thoughts. Emotions. Feelings. Everything”. That just makes her screw up her face more, “so I basically dated you too. And wait a fucking second-”, going wide-eyed, “-does he know I’m Red then????”.

Phantom gives an impressively awkward, “I mean? Technically? Though yeah on the Red thing, fucking duh honestly”.

She’s not sure whether to be pissed, relieved, or scared. “I can’t fucking believe you... Believe you two”, scowling, “I would hit him if he wasn’t passed out”.

Phantom shrugs, “eh hitting me would achieve the same thing, but I’d rather you not. We’re getting kinda off track here and I’d really like to be home and he’d really like to not have a big hole in his chest”. Valerie scowls but glances at Danny, messing with her hair again though giving Phantom a weird look right after and pointedly stopping. “So is he... going to remember all this? See your memories?”.

“My memories are his memories”.

She absolutely groans over that, tilting her head back and glaring at the ceiling. He probably remembered her shooting at Phantom as if she were shooting at him, at the human Danny. Danny was even more reckless and stupid than she thought but... it made her feel kind of happy and warm.

“You’re blushing”.

She shakes her head and scowls at the stupid smirk on Phantom’s face, “shut up. He’s just stupid selfless that’s all”.

Phantom snorts and rolls his eyes, “I’m no different, you just don’t want to acknowledge that. Like I said”, then speaking in a singsong voice, “hunter bias and bigotry”. She hates that he has a point. She really really does. Stupid ghost. Stupid teenage boy.

She shakes her head, this is stupid, “I’ll freak out about that some other time. How do we fix this? Since I’m guessing you can’t”.

Phantom again gives her a look that clearly questions her intellect, “step one, release me”. She groans and glares at him but relinquishes and deactivates the device. Phantom standing up and brushing off his legs like they got dirty somehow, “fucking finally. Ancients you are difficult”.

“Apparently you’ve known that for a while and explicitly”.

“Shut up, I’m bitchy and moody”, him walking over to Danny, putting a hand on his forehead and frowning, “he’s starting to get a fever”.

Valerie groans, seriously? For fucks sake. “You've got to be kidding me. On top of everything else?”, glaring at the unconscious Danny a little, “you have the worst luck”.

“He can’t hear y-”.

“Shut up”.

Phantom chuckles before frowning again, “it’s because my Core’s ice. His body basically uses my Core to keep cool, regulate body temp. Core’s his own personal little ice pack and ac system. He can’t cool down without it”, grumbling, “not that I can cool him with a paralysed Core”. Valerie sighs, “we’ll deal with that later then. I don’t know how to un-paralyse a Core. How do we get you back in there to heal him with your ecto whatever”. She seriously can not believe she is trying to get a ghost inside someone. Even if that someone was apparently themselves or whatever the fuck. Half themselves? Ugh, this is ridiculous.

Phantom fidgets a bit, which fuck is ominous. “Okay step two, I need that pacifying basifier thingy of yours”.

Valerie quirks an eyebrow but hands it to him. Because at this point why the heck not give dangerous weapons to reckless dead guys that already use their fists like weapons of mass destruction. Fuck her life. “And if I wasn’t going to just give you my stuff?”.

Phantom smirks a bit as he sits down to tinker, “I’m not above mild petty theft”. She shoves his head for that one and grimaces over him ripping her gun apart and messing with stuff. While Phantom starts rambling, “I can’t merge with him all paralysed ‘cause my Core can’t connect and shit past all my ectoplasm. Hooray, a situation where my ecto is a real true pain in the ass, and I’ve been so good to it. That’s a lie, I’ve abused the shit out of it”, waving a hand around, “so need to be just my Core, not that I’ll be able to move like that. See I was just gonna knock you out or something. Sit on his chest, use this modified thingy, letting Core me just sorta fall on his chest and sink in”, doing small jazz hands, “tada”.

Valerie scowls, “fuck you too then”, though she does understand a little. And at least he had a plan.

“Desperate times, desperate measures”, tilting his head and chuckling a little, “in desperate times, desperate measures will be my pleasures”.

Valerie gives a very deadpan, “I hate you”, then sighs and crosses her arms, looking down at him, “well sitting on him probably won’t help his condition”.

Getting a cheery, “nope”, in response.

Valerie sighs again, choosing to ignore him being an idiot, “so what are you doing that doesn’t involve making the sick injured human more sick and injured”.

Phantom looks up at her and squints, “you could... pick me up and put me in him yourself”. Valerie can practically physically feel the cautiousness in that statement. Her swallowing, “and that won’t hurt anyone? Him, me, or, I guess, you?”.

Phantom grumbles, “it won’t feel all that pleasant for me. Our Cores are kinda sacred and sensitive to touch, you know. But no, it ain’t gonna hurt nobody”.

Valerie screws up her face a little, “that’s not meaning ‘sensitive’ in the sexual way is it?”, she doesn’t even want to know why her brain went that route. She emphatically doesn't. Phantom blinks and wheezes, starting to laugh hard enough that he has to stop tinkering, “what?!?!? No! I mean it can be but not like this or like that! Oh my Ancients! I can’t believe you asked that!”, then laughing some more, “that might have made my day!”, shaking his head and smirking at her, which she scowls at him for while he speaks, “don’t worry Red, it’s nothing like that. Haha”.

She huffs and shoves his head, “shut up, asshole”. He just snickers more so she crosses her arms. She’d turn her back on him but he’s still a damn ghost, even if she was apparently around him all the fucking time. He was apparently ‘asleep’ or whatever though, remembering whatever or not. So it’s a little different and that’s what she’s sticking to. Huffing a little while the ghost shakes his head.

Phantom eventually makes a stupid silly little cheer sound, “ah! Alright yeah, this should work”. The two of them kinda staring at each other for a bit, she could practically read caution and worry in his green eyes. This ‘emotional’ ghost thing was weird. But she sighs, she needs to look after Danny and this crap was basically all she had for options. So she takes the initiative, “I’m not gonna hurt your Core or whatever”, at him still staring, “or experiment on it”, getting more staring, “and I’ll put it, you, whatever, right in Danny’s chest. Happy?”.

He watches her for a bit before nodding, though not exactly looking pleased, “alright. But I, and Danny, am holding you to that”. Valerie gulps and nods, watching him stick the now disk-shaped ‘gun’ over his chest and push it to make a little pulse thing. The light’s a little blinding but she hears the orb? hit the ground with some static sounds following.

Blinking down at the pale blue glowing ball. Alright, so this is a Core. Fuck this is weird. “Alright self, time to pick up a freaking ghost organ. Fuck this is so messed up”. It makes some kind of bubble noise. Her shaking her head, “can you hear me or something”, it makes a hum sound that time.

Fuck it. She bends down and picks it up gingerly, hurting this thing would at the very least slow how quickly Danny could heal. Or make the fever worse. “That’s weird. This is weird. Fuck this entire day and the G.I.W. too for good measure”. It makes more bubbles, which she decidedly ignores.

Hold the thing oddly just felt like holding a ball, which probably wasn’t normal especially considering the whole ‘paralysed’ thing. Shaking her head and staring down at Danny some before going for it and simply placing the ball over his chest, near where the fucking gunshot wound was, and staring down as it seeps down through flesh and bone like it’s melting into him. After a bit, she elects to slump down tiredly in her shitty brown chair and just watch him. She’ll check the wounds and apparent fever every so often but there’s not much else she can really do. And that pisses her off just a little bit.

-

Valerie immediately bolts up and too Danny’s side when he groans, turns his head, and screws his eyes shut even more. “Danny?”. He just groans at her but does open an eye a little bit, “ugh”.

She sighs, at least he was awake, “first, how are you feeling? Second, I am so pissed with you”, she makes sure to add a bit of humour to that last bit.

Danny closes his eye, squeezes them and then opens both of them, “Val?”. She nods, “yeah. I’m here. Do you need anything?”. He exhales a bit heavily, “uh. Cold drink would be nice”. Which she kind of expected and thus had some ice water on hand, immediately passing it over to him, “thanks. So uh, all that, huh?”.

Valerie scoffs, sitting down on the floor leaning against the bed, hearing him turn over onto his side as she speaks, “yeah. Fucking bullshit. You’re bullshit. Phantom’s bullshit”, pausing and fiddling with her hair some, “the stuff he said, Phantom, was all that true?”, huffing, “I guess with remembering it the answer’s kinda obvious”. And fuck her over that. Because damn did this complicate stuff and raise so many moral questions about what she does. Because hasn’t she been effectively trying to destroy her friend, or part of him anyway, for years.

Danny chuckles sounding kinda tired, “yeah. But could we seriously not argue anymore. I kinda threw all my emotional energy at Phantom. Tired now... and hot. Oh and my chest feels like shit”.

Valerie shakes her head, “never can shut you up. And I’m not about to argue with you, Danny”, pulling herself up to sit on the bed next to him, hugging her knees, “but just how you are you? Like, where does Danny start and Phantom end? Is he literally just knocked out right now?”.

Danny sighs, “it’s complicated. We’re just two parts of the same person so there really isn’t an end or beginning. Though Phantom’s sleeping yeah, more like being dormant though“, shifting and looking her in the eyes, “appreciate being gentle with my Core though”.

“It’s stupid weird to hear you say ‘my Core’ especially since you’re talking about Phantom’s Core. Which is technically your Core”, and grumbling into her knees a bit incoherently.

Danny nods, “everything about my life, half-life, is stupid weird. Welcome to it I guess. Can I ask what you got all blushy about? After Phantom commented very stupidly -fuck I can’t believe he said that- on your hair fiddling thing”.

Valerie immediately heats up a little again, because this time it’s Danny not Phantom and that matters. Even if they’re kinda apparently the freaking same. “I... well, I never really stopped liking you. I just thought I was protecting you. Which now feels supremely stupid”. She had been trying to protect him from his fucking Ghostly body roommate. Heck! Danny was effectively protecting him.

He huffs a chuckle, “because it was stupid”, sighing, “though I could have been honest with you, but in a way I was protecting you. So it’s not really all on you. Though more we were protecting you, though when either of us says ‘I’ we usually mean we; same person and all that”. Danny adjusts and shoves the blankets around, probably seeking out a slightly cooler spot.

Valerie hums, staring forward, “stick to singulars honestly. Especially if Phantom’s just... you but a ghost. You constantly pointing out there’s a freaking ghost taking a nap in you is gonna freak me out right now. I’d really rather just make sure you’re alright”.

Danny pats her foot and smiles a little, though she can tell he’s got a fever now. He just looked overheated. “Sam and Tuck find it weird too but they like weird shit”.

She snorts at that, “you don’t say”. Though she’s kinda glad they know about Danny, Phantom, and his/their crap.

Danny smirks in a very stupid Phantom way, “I dare say. But I'm as fine as I can be really. I’m hot, tired both physically and emotionally, and in pain. But I’ve been worse. And there’s not much you can really do for me. I just need to heal and wait out the paralytic... and Phantom needs sleep, that’s kinda obvious though”. She snorts at that, muttering, “he sure turned into an emotional baby for a bit there”.

“Heh heh. Don’t remind me. That was embarrassing. Least it was just you. Though... he had a point. About you. You can be frustrating”.

She huffs at that, “It’s called being a strong woman with a strong personality”. He hums a bit, closing his eyes, “oh that’s fine. I like that. It’s the blindly believing bigotry thing and the hardcore hatred boner”.

“You did not just call it that. I’d hit you but I don’t want to give you a concussion on top of everything”, sighing, “and Phantom... likes me too then. The sharing feelings thing”.

Danny shifts around some more, which honestly makes her want to scold him; he’s gonna rip his stitching. “I’m pretty sure I can’t get concussions. Phantom definitely can’t. And yeah, obviously Phantom does. The trying to murder him thing kinda kills it a little. Makes him a little put off”.

“And you’re not?”.

Danny sighs, “we can tell whose memories are whose, Val. Ghosts don’t see or feel the world the way humans do. You can look like a completely different person through Phantom’s eyes. All the anger that rolls off you and lashes at the air. The... loneliness too. He likes when you get protective though”, he blushes a little though it could just be the fever, “you feel nice when you’re like that”.

Valerie doesn’t know what to do with that information really; so she stuffs it in a neat little box in her brain. Maybe that’ll encourage the Box Ghost to come running and give her something to shit-kick. Instead she just asks, “he can see emotions? That’s got to be a mind trip”, yawning a little and deciding to get up before she falls asleep or something. “It fine if I check that wound of yours? Before I pass the Hell out”. He chuckles and nods though doesn’t really seem to care, “yeah. I’m used to it. Go ahead, might look kinda green though”. Valerie only sighs as she gets to work unwrapping him carefully, and tries not to be totally weirded out by the pale green crusting and the fact that she can literally see ectoplasm bubbling, or something, around the stitching. Pointing as non-judging as possible, “is this normal?”. This was literally Phantom’s ectoplasm sloshing around Danny’s wound.

He hums, pokes at his chest, and nods. Sounding way to apathetic, “yeah pretty much. Dissolving the stitching a little. I have special stitches that don’t cause that”. All she has to do is frown for him to continue, “not a problem though. You can wrap me back up and let me nap now”. She chuckles a little but does as she’s asked, “I could use some sleep too”.

After finishing up she watches Danny a little as he gets comfortable in her bed, this was weird and a bit surreal. Turning to eye her chair, that would seriously not be comfortable. But sharing a bed was a bit much and Danny was injured. And the Phantom thing felt like a weird elephant in the room at the moment to her. Apparently, Danny can read minds now though, and starts scolding her, “no. Bad hunter. No sleeping in that ratty-ass chair. I can share”, tilting his head, “huh. That rhymed”. Valerie glares at the ceiling in fake exasperation though trying not to be weird about him just calling her a hunter, while Danny keeps going, “so long as you don’t mind the bed getting nippy or that Phantom might hop out for a bit to escape the heat”.

Valerie turns and blinks at him, “that fucker better not try shit then”. Fuck it though, that stupid chair will give her a serious kink in the neck. So she crawls into bed, though keeping a blanket between them, “and you keep your hands to yourself and mind your wounds”.

Danny chuckles and clearly goes out of his way to hug her some, “who do you take me for? Tuck?”, him chuckling almost awkwardly but it was more like he knew he should feel awkward but didn’t quite feel it; she’s blaming that on being emotionally drained. “Though I am a bit of a sleep cuddler. Sam’s gotten a lot of blackmail photos out of that”. Valerie absolutely snorts a laugh over that. Though that sounds like he absolutely sleeps cuddled with Tucker mostly. Which was kind of funny.

-

Danny speaks up again after a bit, with her being nearly asleep, “hey Val?”.

“Hmm?”.

“Where does this leave us?”.

Valerie shifts a bit, eyeing and playing with bits of her hair. She honestly didn’t know herself. Obvious she wasn’t going to off Phantom’s ectoplasmic ass, she is so not going to kill Danny. But friends with Phantom? Maybe. She still hates his damn guts and all the crap he pulls. But that barely aligns with her view of Danny, kind sweet funny Danny. And he was still cute. It was really fucking strange seeing him in Phantom and Phantom in him now. “We’ll see I think. I’m still gonna best Phantom’s stupid butt but I don’t want his ectoplasmic hide anymore. And you’re my friend still. More than that?... I don’t know”, yawning, “but I sure as shit ain’t dating Phantom”.

Danny snorts quietly, “Val. If you did, I think I’d have a heart attack. Ancients, the town would have a heart attack. But yeah, I could do without the second-hand murder attempts. Phantom would be bummed if you stopped picking fights with him entirely though”, chuckling, “he likes fighting and seeing you improve. But if we want to try things again, between us, then you guys need to at least be friends. Dating while you were fighting him all aggression and venom, was difficult”.

Valerie doesn’t have to question that one bit, “yeah”.

“Yeah”.

Valerie rolls her eyes and tries to snuggle into the blankets a bit more, “go to sleep Danny”. He just chuckles.

-

Valerie absolutely does wake up at one point during the night with Danny’s face smushed into her back and arms around her waist. But she had muttered a quiet, “seriously?”, over noticing Phantom sprawled out over top of everyone. At least there were blankets between all of them.

End.

[thatnerdnextdoor24]

Under the Mistletoe

I’ve been holding onto this baby all year. Happy holidays!! Enjoy it the best you can with the ones you love

This is Part One. Read Part Two!! 

Ao3

More Kit/Ty

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadowhunters were never much into Christmas. In this, they and Kit had in common. Johnny Rook thought Christmas as pointless and just another mundane marketing ploy. Though it was strange, when his first Christmas in this new realm approached, it was nice to know that he wouldn't be missing anything.

That's what he had thought, anyway. But it appeared that Tessa and Jem were much more interested in the holiday shenanigans. When Kit had woken on the 1 of December that year, he had come downstairs to find that the ghosts of Christmas past had vomited all over his house. Tinsel draped along the walls, shiny glass ornaments on a humongous tree. The scent of cinnamon drifting in from the kitchen. Then there was Jem and Tessa dancing together in front of the fireplace, Bing Cosby singing holiday cheer from Tessa’s vintage record player. 

It had surprised him to say the least. Then again, Jem and Tessa weren't Shadowhunters anymore. They lived life in between, stuck in the middle of Downworld, Shadowhunters, and mundanes. His first Christmas with them had been daunting. They had opened their arms to him, wanted to give him love and warmth and acceptance. And that almost made it worse. Because Kit didn't know how to act. He felt awkward when someone asked what he wanted for Christmas, and then even more embarrassed when they actually gave him what he had asked for. 

It's taken a few Christmas's for him to get the hang of it. Though Kit thought that a little bit of embarrassment would always stick with him. Now, years later, after adventure, after adventure, after adventure. Christmas came by again, and Kit found that he truly wanted it. He wanted the white snow, the cinnamon cookies, pine trees, candy canes, brightly wrapped presents, and, most importantly; a vision of cuddling by the fire, with the one he loved most. 

It may not have been the first Christmas Kit spent with Ty Blackthorn, but it was the first where the Las Angeles Institute held the annual Christmas party. So maybe that meant something to him. Kit didn't really know exactly why he had decided that it would be this Christmas. This year. This...week. (Was it really so soon?) In which he would finally do it. Over the past years, they had both grown. Up, apart, up again, and back together. If anything. Kit learned what he should have already known. That Christopher Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn, were written in the stars. Destined to be together, no matter what may come their way. 

So it would be this year, this Christmas. Where Kit would do the most terrifying, horrifying, yet exciting, righteous, thing he had ever done. 

Kit was going to ask Ty to marry him.

And if one was going to marry Tiberius Blackthorn, there were a few things that one needed to do.

First, one needed to notify the rest of the Blackthorn Clan, and let them know that you were marrying their brother. So that's what Kit had done. He had decided three weeks ago that it would be this Christmas, when he proposed to Ty. So, that same day, Kit drove to the house that Julian and Emma shared on the beach, (about a 40 minute drive from Kit and Ty's downtown apartment.) And knocked on the door.

He had been so nervous. When he had sat at the kitchen table with Julian and Emma. They had thought that something was wrong. But Kit had no doubts. None at all. He knew he would have no regrets. "I'm going to ask Ty to marry me." He blurted. Julian had choked on his tea, Emma had beamed. Kit knew he had to finish talking before Julain could start. 

"But I'm not here to ask you for permission. Because that's not your choice, it's Ty's. So really you don't have a say in this. So I'm not asking you for permission. I love Ty. And so do you, and I know that you were more of a father to him than a brother. So it was only fair that you would be the first to know. I love Ty. And I want to marry him." Kit had never felt so sure about anything in his life. 

Julian could see that in the way Kit held himself, in the soft pitch his voice took when he talked about Ty. It was the look in his eyes, and the twitching of his fingers. Kit loved Ty so much that at this moment, nothing else mattered. Julian laughed. Kit jumped in surprise and Emma scooted away, they exchanged a quizzical look while Julian caught his breath. Finally, he sighed, looking up at Kit with a warm smile. "Okay." He said.

Not really what Kit had expected. "Okay?" He and Emma echoed. Julian nodded. "You said you're going to ask Ty to marry you. And I'm telling you 'okay'." His face was beaming, and Kit felt his heart burst and the tension in his shoulders drop. He may not have been there to ask for permission, but it definitely would've been bad if Julain had disapproved.  

It had been such a weight off his shoulders. And once he had said it out loud, to another person, it didn't feel so much like a far off dream. The more people he told, the more right it felt. Because there had been a lot of people to tell. He drove to the L.A. Institute to tell Helen, Aline, and Tavvy. He had to get a portal to New York so he could tell Mark and Christina. Dru had been at the New York Institute with Kit's parabatai, Ash. So he had told them too. Only Ash had already known. Because Ash knew Kit maybe even better than Ty did.

Then he had to tell his side too. And he had to do that before Ash did. (He couldn't keep a secret. Probably a fairie thing.) Jace had been so excited he wanted to call everyone he knew, it was a good thing Clary had been there. Portaling again that day was exhausting, but he made it to Devon. Tessa had beamed, Jem had cried. Mina was nearly as excited as Jace.

It was almost dinner time when he finally got home. Ty had been waiting, laying on the couch with a book in his hands and Irene in his lap. The smile he gave Kit was soft, lovely. It melted Kit completely. He had promptly sat on the floor in front of the couch. Ty raised his arm so Kit could lean his tired head against Ty's chest. Ty let his arm back down, hand tucking into Kit's hair. "Read to me?" Kit asked quietly.

So Ty did.

It had become their norm. For Ty to lay on the couch like this, for Kit to sit like this, for Irene to purr softly while Kit stroked her fur. For Ty to read outloud, in his steady voice. Kit closed his eyes, and was certain once more. He was making the right choice. 

That had been three weeks ago. Three long, stressing, weeks. That mostly consisted of Kit going into jewelry shops, getting nervous and antsy, and running out again before his sticky fingers, well, stuck to anything. 

He had taken Ash with him to a few stores. It helped to have him there when Kit got nervous. But, Ash had to keep squeezing his arm, so often that the store clerks thought that they were the two getting married. Ash found this hilarious and laughed so hard that he nearly knocked over a display case of diamonds. They were then escorted out of the store, and Kit was still ringless.

Kit relayed this dilemma to Dru that night while the three of them were walking through Central Park. The ground was covered in snow, they were all bundled up in their warmest clothes. Despite the cold, Central Park was the only place in New York where Ash didn’t gain a headache from all the iron of the city. They had spent the day in NYC, getting some last minute Christmas shopping done. Being in the city that long, had started to give even Kit a headache. He could only imagine how bad Ash’s head had started pounding, but Ash hadn’t said anything about it. Of course, Kit had been able to tell that his smile didn’t reach his eyes or that he wasn’t completely listening to them. So he had casually steered them in the direction of the park, claiming he was done with shopping for the day.

 Dru gave him a curious look and said, “Just give him your Herondale ring.” Kit blinked at her, and Ash lifted Kit’s right hand up, studying the ring. “I didn’t know this was the Herondale symbol…” he murmured. Kit decided to ignore him for a moment, giving Dru his full attention. She rolled her eyes, “Honestly Kit, do you know anything about Shadowhunter weddings?” 

“....Gold clothes?”

“You’re hopeless.”

 Dru was probably right. To be fair, Kit had never been a part of a shadowhunter marriage. He had only even seen a couple of them. But at least now he had his ring problem sorted. Kit had to admit, exchanging family rings did have something romantic going for it. 

So alerting the Blackthorn Clan; Done.

Getting a ring; Done.

Actually popping the question…

Work in progress. 

Kit spends that night at the New York Institute. They had returned and Dru had pestered him with questions about the engagement and the eventual marriage. Then the rest of the New York Institute residents broke out the drinks and the poker chips. Alec and Magnus were called over, and Kit was not allowed to leave. Not that he really wanted to, either. Even if he did miss Ty, he liked hanging out with friends, too. And he knew that Ty could use some time to himself every now and then. He did text Ty for a moment, letting him know that he wouldn’t be home that night. 

Kit

I’ve been forced into a

game of poker. 

don’t wait up. 

Sherlock <3

How bad are you

losing?

Kit

How do you know 

I’m not winning??

Sherlock <3

I’ve played poker with 

you Kit. You suck at it

Kit

O ye of little faith…

Sherlock <3

It’s not a test of faith. 

You just suck at poker

Kit

I’m crushed.

My own boyfriend 

doesn’t believe in my

Poker face :(

Sherlock <3

Again, how badly are you losing?

Kit

Ash is kicking my ass

Jace is trying to steal

my chips. 

Simon thought we 

were playing black 

jack.

Clary and Isabelle are

cheating and teamed up,

combining their cards.

Magnus is the dealer

and is definitely giving

me bad cards on 

purpose. 

Sherlock <3

I don’t think he is, love. 

Pretty sure you’re just bad at poker.

Kit

Akdsnfskjfsa

stoooooop

I’m gonna win!!!!!!

Sherlock <3

Sure

And when you lose,

 I’ll give you a kiss to make it better. 

Kit

:(

And when I win 

I’ll give YOU a victory kiss

;)

Sherlock <3

Sure you will, baby.

Kit smiled at his phone like an idiot for a moment. When Ty called him “baby”, something just melted right in his chest and he felt like a fifteen year old boy catastrophically in love with his best friend all over again. 

Then Jace tried to steal another one of his chips and Kit had to swat him away and pay attention once more. 

He did finally crawl through a portal home that morning, around eight. But seeing as LA was three hours behind, Kit wasn’t surprised to enter a quiet and warm apartment. Irene lifted her head from where she was curled up on the couch, she yawned at him and then went back to sleep. That was about at warm a welcome as he expected. Kit crept, silently, into the bedroom. Where rumpled sheets and a lover were curled up, tangled in one another. Ty lay on his stomach, arms sprawled out. He was laying on Kit’s side of the bed. 

A smirk graced his lips. For a moment, he leaned against the door frame, and just drank the picture in. The sun was barely coming up, scattering red and orange through the window and across the bed. Ty’s lithe and strong body outlined against the pale bedsheets and the worn quilts his mother had made so long ago. One, red and green for the Christmas season, was pulled up, above his chin. His black, silky, hair spilled just over the top of it.

 Kit could just barely make out Ty’s eyes shutting even tighter against the sunlight filtering in.  Using all his fairie and shadowhunter stealth, Kit pulled the curtain back, blocking out the sun. Ty sighed and relaxed. Carefully, gently, Kit climbed into the bed, beneath the quilts and blankets. He sank into the warm and familiar comfort that always came from being with Ty. Wrapping his arms around Ty’s middle, laying on his side and nuzzling his face into the back of Ty’s neck. He felt Ty hum beneath him. Felt the low baritone rumble through his chest and ripple up his neck. 

He pressed a kiss into his (hopefully) soon to be fiancee’s soft curls. “Go back to sleep,” Kit whispered, the sound barely audible and low and throaty even to his own ears. Ty moved his hand to take Kit’s from where it rested around his waist. “Welcome home,” He murmured, sinking deeper into Kit’s embrace. Kit smiled, “What are you doing on this side of the bed?” He asked, because Ty liked things in order and he liked having his own side of the bed where he could keep his pillows straight and sheets tucked in while Kit’s side of the bed often laid a rumpled mess. “M’mells like you…” Ty trailed. 

Kit feels his entire face heat up, and he’s grinning from ear to ear as he gives Ty another gentle squeeze and a kiss on the back of the head. "Did you win?" Ty asks, he sounds nearly asleep again. Kit chuckles. "Not at all." But Ty has already fallen back asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. It only takes a few moments, with him breathing in Ty's scent and the blankets warm around him, for Kit to drift off completely.

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {25}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Ah, the final chapter. I’ll be posting an epilogue soon. (: I hope you all enjoy...the end...

“And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.” ― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

The hospital was quiet.

It had only been a couple of months since Rhysand was back there, lying in a bed, but he hadn’t been announced dead at the scene.

Isaac had.

 They still loaded him into an ambulance, still tried to save him, but there was nothing more they could do.

Isaac’s head had hit the concrete. 

He’d had a brain hemorrhage. 

Azriel had been holding him when he died. 

Feyre, Elain, and Nesta had gone back into the room where they were keeping him to say their goodbyes. Feyre hadn’t been close with him, Nesta hadn’t been close with him, but Elain had always kept hope. She would take it the hardest. But still, for the others, they lost their only living parent.

Rhysand knew how it felt.

So did Cassian.

And Azriel, too. 

Rhysand sat next to Cassian in a waiting room chair. Cassian hadn’t said a word.

Azriel was sitting across from them, holding Mila, who was sound asleep. 

He hadn’t said a word, either.

Eris was still conscious when they took him away, speeding toward the hospital. Azriel had stabbed him to defend himself, not to kill. Azriel may have hated Eris with every ounce of his body, but he was no killer. 

Azriel was not Eris.

None of them spoke a single, damned word, until Beron Vanserra came into the waiting room. He didn’t bother to see Eris. Instead, he sat down with them, next to Azriel. Noting that Mila was asleep, he kept his voice quiet.

“I talked to all of the witnesses, along with my men,” he began. He looked exhausted, more tired than Rhysand had ever seen him, older than Rhysand had ever seen him. “Now, I need to hear from the three of you what happened.”

“If you already know, why must we?” Azriel whispered.

“Because it’s my job,” Beron said, rubbing his temples.

“A fight broke out,” Rhysand claimed. “It obviously got a little out of control.”

“Who stabbed Eris?” Beron asked.

“I did,” Azriel said, without any hesitation. “He was holding a knife to my throat, Beron. He wanted to kill me.”

Beron’s eyes weakened at the words. “And who struck down Isaac Archeron?” 

“You already know the answer to that, it seems,” Azriel said.

Cassian hadn’t spoken. 

“I need you to tell me, for the official reco-”

“Eris,” Rhysand said. “Your son, your fucking son,” he went on, voice shaking, “killed my wife’s father. And he didn’t even seem to feel bad about it.” 

Beron nodded, slowly, eyes shining as he stood. Without a thanks, he went on his way.

“Where will they go?” Cassian asked, before Beron could get too far. His first words since they left the court. “Eris and Tamlin, where will they go? What happens now?”

“I talked to Tamlin’s father. Tamlin must leave town, immediately,” Beron said. “And Eris...when he is discharged, he will be taken to the station where he will await trial.” 

Azriel pulled Mila closer to him.

Without another word, Beron was gone, and the three of them were left there, waiting. Cassian jumped from his chair with such force that he nearly knocked it over. He didn’t look at his friends as he stormed out of the hospital. 

Not five minutes later, the Archeron sisters flooded into the waiting room. Azriel was instantly on his feet, taking Elain’s hand and leading her out, Mila’s cheek resting on his shoulder. Feyre plopped down next to Rhysand.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head, “Feyre-”

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “I knew he wasn’t gone. I knew he wouldn’t leave us alone, Rhys. Tamlin…” Her voice broke on his name. “I hate that I hate him so much.”

“It was Eris-”

“They’re the same fucking person!” Feyre yelled, but no one stopped to tell her to be quiet, no one gave her a look. “Tamlin, Eris, these assholes that think they can start shit….he was a part of it. Tamlin. He’s part of the reason my dad is dead, Rhys.”

Rhysand put his arm around her and leaned back in the chair.

“I tried to get to him,” Rhysand said. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

She looked up at him, eyes shining. “It wasn’t your fault, Rhys. We know that, it wasn’t any of your faults. It was Eris, and it was Tamlin’s, and no one else’s.”

He wiped her cheeks with his thumb. 

There was nothing more he could say.

Nothing more that felt right, nothing that took away his guilt. 

All he managed was, “Tamlin is leaving town. For good. Eris is being arrested the second he’s discharged, where he’ll be put on trial.” 

Feyre sunk into his shoulder, the only sign that she’d heard, the only sign that she found any comfort in his words. 

A few minutes passed before she asked, “What do you think it’s like? Whatever lies beyond this world?”

Isaac Archeron had been a mess in the years since his wife died. He paid his children very little attention, could barely take care of himself. He was long gone, a ghost. “I don’t know,” Rhysand answered, honestly. “But, I have no doubt he’s already found your mom, and I have no doubt that it was one hell of a reunion.” 

Feyre looked up at him and smiled, weakly, another tear falling down her pale cheek. “Take me home, Rhys.”

Rhysand stood and took her hand.

She clung to his hand as if her life depended on it.

~~~~~

Azriel and Elain didn’t talk the entire drive home. It was quiet, partly because Mila was sleeping, but mostly because there was nothing to say.

Elain was the closest to her father out of her sisters, Azriel knew that.

He had fucking held Isaac while he died.

He had felt him take his final breath.

All the while, while he sat on the concrete, cradling Isaac’s head...all Azriel could think about was Elain, how her heart would break, how Azriel could do nothing.

How he had been there when it happened. 

How his face was the last face that Isaac saw. 

The minute Azriel pulled into the driveway, he was getting out of the car and pulling Mila out. He took her inside of the townhouse and laid her down on the couch before taking off her shoes and covering her up with a blanket. After kissing her forehead, he wandered into the kitchen. 

There was a bottle of vodka in the fridge from the last time everyone was there for dinner and game night.

Azriel opened it and pressed the bottle to his mouth.

He downed as much as he could before setting it on the counter and swearing under his breath.

He was pissed.

He was overwhelmed.

Don’t wake Mila, was all he could think.

Eris wasn’t an issue anymore. He was no longer a threat. He had intended to murder Azriel and, accident or not, Isaac’s blood was on Eris’ hands. Nor was Tamlin a threat, either, to Feyre and Rhysand, and for that, Azriel should have been happy. At least, he should have been a little bit comforted. Grateful.

But he fucking stabbed a man.

He put a blade into Eris’ abdomen. He’d felt it go through his skin. He didn’t even think about it. He had acted without any hesitation.

He had to live.

He couldn’t die, couldn’t let Eris take Mila. So, he took Eris’ knife, and stabbed him.

Maybe it made him a bad man.

Maybe it made him a fucking good man.

He didn’t fucking know.

All he knew was that shit went down that night that shouldn’t have, and now everything was different.

The world was quiet, too quiet. 

“Azriel.”

His name was soft coming out of Elain’s mouth. He spun around from where he was leaning against the counter, hovered over a bottle of vodka.

She was standing in the doorway, brows furrowed, eyes red and puffy. 

He quickly looked away from her.

Elain took a step into the kitchen. “I need you to tell me what happened, Az.”

He shook his head. “They already told you-”

“I need you to tell me what happened,” she repeated. 

How could he? How would he ever be the same to her after the words came out of his mouth? 

He shook his head, slowly.

Elain walked toward him, one hand on her little bump. “Please,” she begged, and it was the one word, the crack in her voice, that made him confess. 

“He was going to kill me,” Azriel choked out. “I tried, Elain, to fight him off, but he had a fucking knife. He held it to my throat, and I couldn’t move, not without it digging into my neck.” He reached up, felt the long, thin scab that had developed from the contact with the blade. “I didn’t know what to do. I expected him to take me, to cut me…..I expected him to kill me, whether because he hated me for having Mila or because he was just that fucking bitter about his life, I didn’t know….” he shook his head, angrily, frustrated. Elain took his hand into hers as she wept. “Your dad saved me, Elain. He tried to pull Eris off of me, and it didn’t work, but he gave me the few seconds I needed to take Eris….to take Eris down. If your dad didn’t come when he did...”

The words spilled out of him, and he hated himself for it. 

It was the truth, though. If it had not been for Isaac Archeron, Azriel would not be standing there.

He knew he was crying, and Azriel didn’t care. He let himself cry, let himself mourn, let himself feel the sorrow and the pain, not only for what he had endured that night, but for Elain, for the woman he loved, for the mother of his child.

“He saved my life, El,” Azriel breathed. 

Azriel wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that statement or if he hated himself for it. Part of him was so fucking grateful. Isaac had saved his life, and had saved Mila’s life in return. But part of him felt so fucking guilty. Elain no longer had a father, her and her sisters had lost both of their parents. 

There was no winning side of the situation.

Either way, someone was lost, and someone would remain heartbroken. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said at last, knowing he was crying, sobbing, no matter what he said, nothing would be made better. The alcohol certainly hadn’t helped, certainly hadn’t made him any more stable.

It had only made him more talkative. 

More willing to confess.

More willing to spill his heart out, which only made Elain’s heart break more.

Elain took Azriel’s face into her hands and made him look down at her. She had been crying for hours. Her eyes were bloodshot, her lips swollen and her cheeks tearstained. 

She remained silent. There wasn’t anything she could say. She couldn’t say she was grateful that her father saved him, for it would mean she was grateful for the sacrifice he had made, and it would only make her feel guilty. But, she couldn’t say she was not grateful for Isaac’s sacrifice, either, for it was because of that sacrifice that Azriel, the father of her child, was alive. 

Elain pulled his face to hers and she kissed him, softly. 

Everything he needed was in that kiss.

Every complicated word that must remain unspoken.

Comfort swept through him, even though that burden still remained.

Azriel was certain that the burden would remain for quite some time. 

It may never go away, that guilt.

He was grateful to Isaac, but it was a debt he would never be able to repay.

But he would try.

He would be a good father to Isaac’s grandchild.

He would take care of Elain, Isaac’s pride and joy, and protect her with his life. 

He would love Elain, unconditionally, would someday make her his wife.

Azriel loved Elain.

And he would continue to love Elain.

For that was why Isaac had intervened in the first place.

To protect the father of his grandchild.

The love of his daughter’s life.

~~~~~

Cassian stood on the balcony of his apartment.

Amren had decided to stay with Mor at Azriel’s apartment, and Cassian was grateful for it. He couldn’t deal with the questions, couldn’t deal with Amren knowing the truth. 

It had all been his fault.

He was past the need for whiskey, his body was already numb from the shock of it all.

Nesta had gone home with him, but she was sitting on his couch while he had stormed outside. The anger, that anger, was in full force.

And this time, it was directed at himself. 

It was him.

It was all him.

Everything that happened.

It was all him. 

The sliding door opened half an hour later. Nesta’s voice was soft when she said, “You should come to bed.” Cassian shook his head. “Won’t be able to sleep.”

“Come on, Cass,” she breathed, exhaustion lacing her tone. “Come inside.”

“Why?” Cassian asked. “You shouldn’t even care.”

“Don’t start that shit with me,” she snapped. “It’s been a bad fucking day, so just come inside and come to bed.”

Cassian’s jaw locked.

Nesta sighed. “Fine. I’m going to bed.”

She turned to go back inside, but then Cassian choked out, “I’m sorry.”

She froze.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he said, again. “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

He repeated the words, over and over again, into the silence.

So fucking sorry.

So fucking sorry.

So fucking sorry.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Nesta whispered, and when she reached for him, he jerked away.

“You don’t get it,” he said, eyes blurred. “I threw the first punch, Nesta, it’s all my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.”

My fucking fault.

My fucking fault.

My fucking fault.

If he hadn’t hit Tamlin, all hell wouldn’t have broken loose.

That anger.

That fucking anger.

It never left him alone.

Everyone thought he had killed his mom.

And he may as well have killed Isaac Archeron. 

“Cassian,” Nesta breathed.

But he wouldn’t look at her.

Couldn’t look at her.

It was his fault that her father was dead. 

She wouldn’t take that, though, wouldn’t accept it. She closed the distance between them, Cassian blocked in the corner of the balcony.

She gripped the front of his shirt, just over his chest, with her fingers and hissed, “It’s not your fault. Alright? It’s not your fault. And you better believe me, because I wouldn’t fucking lie to you. If it was your fault, I’d beat your ass, and I’d curse your name, but it’s not your fault, Cassian, it’s not your fault.” 

He knew Nesta, knew she wouldn’t lie, knew she was telling the truth, but the thought lingered.

All your fault.

All your fault.

All your fault.

“Cassian,” she breathed, shaking her head, reading his thoughts. She reached up to dry his tears, although she was crying herself. But Cassian couldn’t move his hands, he was frozen in place, numb, unable to wipe her tears away.

Guilty. 

He felt so fucking guilty. 

“Come to bed,” she begged, and he had never heard her voice so desperate, so vulnerable. When he met her eyes, she looked scared.

And Nesta Archeron rarely showed fear.

“Come to bed,” she repeated, her hands running across his body with desperation. 

Come to bed.

Come to bed.

Come to bed.

“It’s not your fault, Cassian,” she whispered, her voice shaking, fingers clinging to his shirt. “Okay? It’s not your fault. Come to bed. Come to bed with me, Cass, come to bed.” 

He didn’t remember being led to his bedroom, didn’t remember lying down, didn’t remember Bryaxis coming into the room, up on the bed, and laying his chin on Cassian's chest.

And then Nesta crawled up on the other side of him and laid her cheek against his shoulder. Her tears soaked through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Neither of them said another word.

But nobody moved. Cassian, Nesta, and Bryaxis laid there all night, clinging to one another.

~~~~~

One Week Later…

The headstone hadn’t been ready the few days prior when the funeral had taken place, so when they got the call that it was ready to be placed at Isaac’s burial, the sisters had decided to see it placed, together.

Feyre and Rhysand pushed out their wedding. Rhysand had agreed that it was no longer the right time to host a big wedding, and waiting didn’t bother him in the slightest, even after they had hurried to get it ready for that Saturday in October. As much as Feyre wanted to be Rhysand’s wife, the past week had held too much to add a wedding countdown on top of it. 

Instead of a wedding, Feyre stood between her sisters at the foot of the newly patted down dirt. There was now a headstone at the head of the site, one that read, 

Isaac Alexander Archeron. Father, husband, friend.

Hero.

“It looks good,” Nesta said, quietly.

“Beautiful,” Elain agreed. “Hero.”

Feyre took Elain’s hand and squeezed it. “That he was.”

Nesta nodded, quietly. 

They had laid Isaac beside Moira, in that little cemetery in Velaris. It was where he wanted to be. It had always been where he wanted to be, next to his wife, and now he was. Feyre believed Rhysand’s words to have been true. She believed her dad had found her mom, and they were now together, looking down over their girls in whatever life came after this one.

The leaves had begun to change color. Autumn had always been her favorite time of year. It had always been Isaac’s, too. It was why he was in the park that night, why he had been walking along the Sidra.

He was admiring the early Autumn landscape while he fed the ducks.

Feyre didn’t let herself think too much on the “what-if’s”. What if he had just stayed home? What if he hadn’t walked by the rivercourt? Would Azriel be dead? Would fate have intervened, would Isaac lost his life another way? There was no possible way of knowing, and obsessing over the “what-if’s” certainly never helped. 

“Well,” Feyre began, clearing her throat. “Shall we?”

Nesta nodded and stepped forward, placing a bouquet of yellow roses on her mother’s grave, and a bouquet of lilies on her father’s. When she came back, Feyre stepped forward and set a framed picture of their family beside the lilies. And when that was done, Elain came forward with a sealed envelope.

“I wrote a poem,” she breathed, placing it next to the frame. “Perhaps you and mom can read it together.”

When Elain joined her sisters again, Feyre took their hands, they said their goodbyes, for now, and went back to the car. 

Feyre expected Nesta to drive her back to her apartment, but she didn’t. Instead, Nesta drove to Elain’s townhouse, where the driveway was lined with cars. 

Mor’s, Azriel’s, Amren’s, Cassian’s, and Rhysand’s. 

“Having lunch?” Feyre asked.

“Something like that,” Nesta muttered, but when Feyre looked up from where she was sitting in the backseat, Nesta’s face revealed nothing.

She parked, and they all got out.

“Now, close your eyes,” Elain demanded.

Feyre stilled as she shut her car door. “Why?”

“Because we’re older than you, and we say so,” Nesta snapped, although her eyes were soft. 

“We won’t let you trip over anything,” Elain promised, taking Feyre’s hand.

After a sigh, Nesta agreed. “Not on purpose, anyway.”

Hesitantly, Feyre closed her eyes. She was led up the driveway, and into the house, where Mor’s voice spat, “Everyone shut up,” the second the door opened. 

Feyre chuckled. “Subtle.”

“We’re going up the stairs,” Elain warned.

Eyes still closed, her sisters dragged Feyre up the stairs and down the hall. When she opened her eyes, she was standing in Elain’s bedroom, and hanging on her floor length mirror was Feyre’s dress and her veil.

Feyre blinked as both of her sister’s sat on the edge of Elain’s bed.

“Yeah, I’m not following,” Feyre began, slowly. 

Elain patted the spot next to her on the mattress. “Sit.” 

Feyre did so, wearily.

“I called Rhys a couple days ago,” she began. Nesta sat on the other side of her, quietly. “I told him I understand that right now isn’t the time for a big wedding, and I completely agree...but, I also told him about my last conversation with dad.”

Elain took Feyre’s hand on her right, and Nesta’s on her left.

“I talked to him last Saturday afternoon, just before he left to go to the park,” Elain began, and the second her eyes lined with tears, Feyre began to cry. “We talked about Nesta. How he was so proud of her...how she was overcoming her addiction, something he or mom was never quite able to do.” Feyre glanced at Nesta, who was staring at her hands, the eyes that matched her own, her mother’s eyes, blurred. “Then we started talking about you, and Rhys. And how he wouldn’t miss your big day. He was planning on being there today, Feyre, to surprise you. He had called, asking me what color he should wear to match the groomsmen.” Elain chuckled. “He wanted to look nice to walk you down the aisle. He told me not to tell, that he knew you wouldn’t believe him, knew you had grown apart throughout the years...but, he always thought you would end up with Rhys, and he just couldn’t wait for the two of you to become man and wife.”

Feyre shook her head, slowly, but no words came out.

Elain’s smile was soft when she wiped away her little sister’s tears. “So, put on that dress, and let’s not make dad wait.” 

“He did clear his schedule for today, just to surprise you,” Nesta followed, when Feyre’s body shook with a quiet sob. “He may be busy tomorrow. You know, he’s with mom now, and they have a decade of adventures and memories to catch up on.”

Feyre laughed, quietly, and looked up at her sisters. They watched her with such love and adoration. For the first time that week, Feyre felt a sense of peace fill her body.

“He just couldn’t wait,” Feyre repeated.

Elain shook her head, smiling fondly. “He couldn’t wait.” 

~~~~~

“They’ve been up there for hours,” Rhysand breathed.

He understood, knew Feyre didn’t know it was coming, knew it would be a lot to take in. Fuck, it had been a lot for him to take in when he got the call from Elain days before. But, of course, Rhysand thought it was beautiful, and knew that Feyre would think so, too.

Isaac had planned to be at their wedding today.

And be there, he would be. 

“I’ll go check on them,” Azriel said, padding out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“You need to stop pacing,” Cassian said, watching Rhysand go back and forth, from one side of the kitchen table to the other. “It’s stressing me out.”

Rhysand shot him a look. “Fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Mila said, running into the kitchen and hopping up on Cassian’s lap. “Fuck off, Cassie.”

Cassian’s head tipped back and he howled. Even Rhysand couldn’t help but smile as the sound of laughter filled the kitchen. 

When his laughter died down, Cassian took the little girl’s face into his hands. “You can’t say that. Naughty words.”

She rolled her eyes and hopped back onto the floor. Cassian helped her straighten out her flower girl dress as she said, “Rhysie naughty.” 

“Yes, he is,” Cassian agreed, then took the flower crown headband off the table and pulled it down over Mila’s curls. “There. Beautiful.”

Mila threw her arms around Cassian’s neck before running back into the living room.

Mor chuckled as she entered the kitchen. “I swear she’s going to rip that dress before the ceremony even begins.”

Rhysand shrugs. “Adds character.” 

“Alright,” Amren breathed, joining everyone else in the townhouse’s kitchen. “I think I’ve got my speech together.”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Rhysand said, although his eyes were full of admiration. Amren was taking her duty very seriously.

“You only get married once,” Amren proclaimed, “so, yes, it does have to be perfect.” 

She had gotten ordained, online, in twenty minutes. Rhysand wasn’t exactly sure how legit it was, but he figured it was legit enough. 

Azriel came back down the stairs, straightening his tie. “Alright, she’s almost ready. Nesta said ten minutes.”

Rhysand stilled, and Mor grinned, planting a kiss on her cousin’s cheek. 

“Alright,” Cassian said, winking. “I’ll get Mila.”

“Everybody in the backyard,” Mor announced, throwing open the sliding door.

Rhysand stayed where he was, though, his feet planted as Amren and Mor went outside, and Cassian went to hunt down the flower girl. 

Azriel walked to his friend. “You never knew how to tie a fucking tie.”

Rhysand snorted as Azriel undid the knotted fabric around Rhysand’s neck.

“Doesn’t help that I’ve felt like I’ve had to piss, all day, nonstop” Rhysand murmured.

Azriel chuckled as he pulled the tie around Rhysand’s neck, and tied it correctly. “How else are you feeling?”

Rhysand stayed quiet for a moment as Azriel worked his necktie magic. He had a lot of emotions, so many that they were difficult to sort out.

It had been a long week, one of those weeks that felt much longer than a week. Rhysand had spent most of it by Feyre’s side, but when Feyre was with her sisters, Rhysand had been with Azriel and Cassian. They worked through a lot, and were still working through a lot when it came to their guilt. But the girls were right. It wasn’t their fault, even if a small part of them would always feel like it was.

But Tamlin had left, as Beron promised. He had told Rhysand that Tamlin was headed up north to be near his mom. And, true to his word, Eris had been taken into custody upon his release from the hospital and was to be trialed for attempted murder and Isaac’s death. No matter what happened, he would be charged with something, and would be locked away for a long while. 

When Azriel was done, he clapped Rhysand on the shoulder and stepped back.

“I think Isaac would be happy we’re doing this,” Rhysand said, at last.

Azriel nodded, smiling softly. He knew full well Elain’s last conversation with her father. “I agree.”

Cassian came into the room then, Mila hanging on his back, barefoot. Her dress wasn’t torn, and her flower crown stayed put, but she had a ring of blue around her lips. 

“What did you get into now?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms. “And where are your shoes?”

“Lollipop!” she said, grinning, holding onto Cassian. “And I dunno.”

Rhysand laughed as Azriel shook his head. “Alright,” he muttered. “Good enough.”

~~~~~

Elain went down the stairs while Nesta finished putting the pins in Feyre’s hair, just to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be.

She peeked outside and saw Amren, standing beneath the archway with Rhysand beside her. Mor was spinning a bare-footed, blue-mouthed Mila around while Azriel and Cassian were talking about something among themselves, grinning like fools.

“They’re ready!” Elain called up the stairs.

“Five minutes!” Nesta called back. “The bride has to pee and put on her shoes!”

Elain laughed quietly to herself as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. She ran a hand over her stomach. The baby had been growing excessively lately. She’d had an appointment the day before, just a check up. The baby’s heartbeat was strong. They could have found out the gender, but Elain had said she didn’t want to know.

Which, she thought she hadn’t, but ever since they left the hospital, she realized one thing: she really, really wanted to know.

Five minutes.

She took out her phone and found Kallias’ contact. After one last glimpse outside and slight hesitation, she pressed the call button. 

It rang twice before he answered. “Elain? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she promised. “I - erm - well, I just….Kallias, I have to know the gender. I’m about to lose my mind, and you have to make it fast, because I need that sense of peace if I am going to get through this day without snapping at someone. You ever planned a wedding ceremony in two days while being pregnant?” 

A pause. “I can’t say that I have, no.”

“Thought not,” Elain breathed. “Please tell me you remember the gender.”

“Of course, I do,” Kallias said, voice gentle. “But are you sure-”

“Tell me!” she snapped.

Kallias took no offense. He laughed, quietly. “Alright. Fine. But, seriously, are you sure, because i can’t take it back-”

“If you ask me that question one more time, Kal, I swear…” she trailed off, unable to think of an actual threat, while listening to the bathroom door open at the top of the stairs. 

Kallias took a deep breath before he told her, and tears instantly sprung into Elain’s eyes. “Oh. Oh, thank you,” she breathed, laughing softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Tell Feyre and Rhys I say congrats.”

“Of course,” Elain promised, and said goodbye, after thanking him five more times.

The sliding door was thrown open as Elain set her phone on the counter.

Azriel took one look at his pregnant girlfriend crying and stilled. “What happened? Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Is Feyre okay?”

“Everyone’s okay,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I just got off the phone with-”

She stopped, and Azriel lifted a brow as he shut the door. “With?”

“Nobody,” Elain whispered.

Azriel was walking toward her, slowly. Elain watched those slow movements, watched as he opened the junk drawer and pulled out a roll of scotch tape before facing Elain.

Elain slowly slid her phone behind her back on the counter.

Azriel shook his head. “I can easily get that, you know.”

“Debatable,” Elain said, lifting her chin.

Azriel laughed. “Who did you call?”

Elain groaned. “Kallias.”

Azriel met her by the counter, clearly amused. “Why?”

“Because the entire time I was doing Feyre’s make up, while Feyre and Nesta were talking about how Cassian is in bed, which...by the way….the man is a monster…” Azriel chuckled as Elain continued, “Az, all I could think about was baby names and then I started thinking about how we could have already known whether the baby is a boy or a girl….and I was going crazy. I had to know.”

“So you called Kal.”

“Yes.”

“And you asked?”

“Yes.”

“And he told you…”

“Yes,” Elain said, pulling Azriel closer to her by his belt. 

“And?” he asked, quietly.

“You want to know?” she laughed, head falling to the side.

“Well, if you know, it’s only fair that I do, too,” he said, taking her face into his hands.

Elain’s smile was wide and bright as she said, “The baby is a boy.”

Azriel laughed, under his breath, as his hazel eyes shone. “Yeah?”

Elain nodded, and pressed her lips to his.

He sunk into that kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist. “A son.”

“A son,” Elain repeated. “Mila’s going to have a little brother.”

“Hmmm,” he muttered, kissing her, again, and again, and again.

She jerked back. “Wait, why do you have tape? Did something fall off the arch?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” he began, forgetting why he had apparently come inside in the first place. He took the tape off the counter. “Mila ripped her dress.”

Elain blinked. “And you...were going to...tape it?”

Azrie’s expression flattened. “Well, we’re kind of on a time limit here, El.”

“Oh my god,” she laughed, shaking her head. “You are such a man.”

Footsteps began at the top of the stairs and slowly came down. Azriel turned around the minute Feyre came into view, Nesta holding the train of her dress.

Elain watched Azriel as he stilled, his smile widened, his eyes still misty from the news of their son, and now of Feyre, dressed in white.

“Think Rhys will approve?” she asked, looking at Azriel.

Azriel cleared his throat. “That’s an understatement. You look beautiful. Really.”

Feyre’s eyes softened as she said, “Thank you.”

After taking the tape into his hand and kissing Elain on the forehead, Azriel was hurrying back outside.

Feyre looked at Elain, then at Nesta. 

“Ready?” Elain asked.

Feyre nodded. 

No more hesitation. 

“Ready.”

~~~~~

The moment Rhysand saw Feyre, tears were rolling down his cheeks. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, and everyone else was intruding.

At least, Nesta felt like she was intruding.

Amren led the ceremony flawlessly. Nesta had no idea she was so poetic. After handing them the rings, Cassian joined Nesta by her side. 

He was handsome, in his navy slacks and white shirt, with his navy tie. His hair was pulled back. He had even shaved.

Nesta loved the beard.

But there was something about him clean shaven that made Nesta’s breathing unsteady and her knees wobbly.

After Amren announced them husband and wife, and Rhysand kissed his bride, it was time for their little, unorganized family to party. 

Mila was on a sugar high. She hadn’t stayed still for the entire ten minute ceremony, and was now running across the backyard doing - or, attempting to do - cartwheels. Mor and Amren were sitting in the grass, laughing as the four year old went wild. 

Cassian was in the kitchen when Nesta walked through the back door.

“You were voted caterer?” she asked.

Cassian laughed as he pulled out a pile of meat from the fridge. “So it seems. But, I’m a very good cook.”

Nesta raised a brow.

“Well,” Cassian said, correcting himself, “I know how to work a grill.”

Nesta chuckled and met him at the counter top. “Do you have to start grilling now?”

Cassian traced her neckline with his fingers once she approached. “Depends. Why do you ask?” 

“I thought we could go upstairs for a few minutes,” she whispered.

Cassian grinned. “I knew it. Can’t keep your hands off of me. This is why I never dress up for you.”

Nesta laughed and kissed him, fiercely. Speaking of hands, Cassian’s wandered down to her ass and started hiking the skirt of her dress up, slowly. 

“Not here,” she said, pushing against his chest.

Cassian looked around. “We’re alone.”

“Until someone walks through that door,” Nesta muttered, just as his lips found hers, once more. His tongue slid between her lips, brushing alongside her own, and Nesta’s body fell into his. He growled, quietly, into her mouth. 

The door opened up and a high-pitched “gross!” filled the air.

Nesta looked over her shoulder to find Mila walking toward the fridge, her little white dress covered in grass stains. 

“Sorry, kid,” Cassian said, trying not to laugh. “What can I get you?”

“I want ice cream,” she beamed, pulling open the freezer. “Can I?”

“Sure.”

“Can you get me a bowl?”

Cassian blinked, then opened the drawer next to him. He pulled out a spoon and handed it to the toddler. “Here. Just eat it out of the carton.”

Mila’s eyes grew big as she took the spoon, a carton of chocolate ice cream, and ran back outside.

“Okay,” Nesta began. “Now, we really need to go, because Azriel’s going to be in here in less than a minute to kick your ass.” 

Cassian muttered his agreement and lifted Nesta off the ground, cradling her against his chest as he began to leave the kitchen.

But he didn’t go upstairs.

They only made it as far as the guest bathroom, right next to the kitchen.

~~~~~

It had been a good day.

A great day.

Feyre admired the ring on her finger as they danced to the stereo beneath the Velaris starlight.

Mor was dancing with Cassian, and Azriel was swinging a sugar-fueled Mila around, as Nesta, Elain, and Amren sat on the back porch, watching.

“Do you think they saw it all?” Feyre asked. “Mom and dad.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand answered, without missing a beat. “I do.”

She looked up at him and smiled, pushing his dark hair back. “I do, too.”

Rhysand nodded, and pressed his forehead into hers. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” Feyre breathed. “I get to call myself your wife, nothing could make me happier.”

He kissed her, softly, as they swayed back and forth. 

“I know this isn’t how you imagined it -”

“It was perfect,” Feyre said, cutting Rhysand off. “So incredibly perfect.” 

“Just wait for the honeymoon.”

Feyre groaned. “I still don’t know where we’re fucking going.”

Rhysand grinned. “You’ll find out first thing in the morning. The car’s already packed.”

Feyre cocked her head. “With swimsuits or ski gear?”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed. “Nice try.”

Feyre laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. I’ll wait. But only because Cassian let it slip a little while ago that we’re going to Adriata.” 

Rhysand stilled, let go of his future wife, and spun around to where Cassian had Mor gathered into his arms. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Cassian held his hands up in surrender as Mor laughed.

“That’s the second time he’s said that naughty word today,” Mila muttered to Azriel, who looked at Rhysand and shook his head.

“I swear. Between your filthy mouth and Cassian unable to keep his mouth to himself…” Azriel trailed off and looked between Cassian and Nesta. 

Nesta’s grin said she wasn’t sorry, whatsoever. 

Feyre pulled Rhysand back to her and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m excited.”

“Good,” Rhysand murmured, sighing as he held his wife close. 

His wife.

Her husband.

Her best friend.

Her forever.

No, the little imtimate backyard ceremony hadn’t been like she’d imagined, not at all.

But, as they danced together, all of them, beneath the Velaris starlight, and the memory of her parents filled the air around them, Feyre decided that it had been perfect. Big weddings be damned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty  @starkovsnesta​   @redisriding​  @photofeesh

@mariamuses​   @tswaney17    @amaranthas-whore​   @awesomelena555

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@mynewdreamwasyou​ @humming-asong​  

@candid-confetti @awkward-avocado-s​  @sensitiveillyrian​

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@empress-ofbloodshed​  @starkovsnesta​ @nickjgoodsell​

Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

[florvinhara]

my detectives (part 1)

kjahfjhsj i can have a little infodumping... as a treat... anyway this was originally gonna be 1 post but then i got carried away so part 1 in the series of me ranting abt my detectives!

Kira Isabella Song

Romances N, F, or M

Age: 25 at the start of book 1, currently 26

Birthday: February 7

Star sign: Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, Scorpio rising

Height: 5’7”

Hair: Short, ash blonde, a little longer than chin length

Eyes: dark brown

Race/ethnicity: Korean-American

Other appearance details: Several beauty marks on face and body. a few subtle scars on face/legs from falling out of trees, etc. fingers are callused from band practice and left hand fingers are a little crooked from being broken.

Languages: English, Spanish, a few basic phrases in some other languages

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind (equal)

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Science & combat

Strengths: Trustworthy, strong, courageous, calm under pressure, compassionate, thorough, clever, good intuition, self-sufficient, sure of herself

Weaknesses: Petty, caustic, distrustful, secretive, lackadaisical, insubordinate, emotionally unintelligent, can be disdainful, uncommunicative, contrary

Personal:

overall body language is casual and unbothered, lowkey her posture is kind of yikes RIP but she has a very fluid way of moving

her voice is smooth and somewhat low in pitch, very even in tone

Loud and/or jumbled sounds sometimes overwhelm her; she usually has noise cancelling headphones with her just in case

Rebellious as a teenager; she started skipping school and getting into fights, did some graffiti and one time she stole a street sign that she may or may not still have

When she wasn’t breaking rules, etc. she was taking boxing lessons, chilling in the library, going on runs, or playing bass guitar in her band

Wanted to get out of Wayhaven as soon as possible after college but was arrested after she came back because she was selling fake IDs and stole a car; absolutely did not want to be law enforcement but Rebecca and the captain essentially made her

The deal was that she would work at the station for 5 years and if she did well/stayed out of trouble she could then quit- she's 3 years into it

deep down if she wasnt a detective she would want to be a paramedic

She shares a lot of mannerisms with Rebecca and they’re way more similar than she’d like to admit

Birds FREAK her out seriously; she’ll deny that she’s afraid of them but she’ll cross the street to get away from them, also hates crowded places and deep water

Scary resting face and has a habit of just... eerily staring at people who are bothering her until they get spooked, but she's not actually that angry or grouchy, she's really just Vibing u know? she's not gonna correct anyone's impression though or they might start like... Talking to her :/

Loves any book/movie/show with a secret society or spy element and stories about a Hero and their Journey, also loves angsty philosophy books; her favorite movies are cheesy but feel-good (The Mummy, Pacific Rim, anything with big CGI monsters)

Doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth but would kill someone for strong coffee; if she’s really tired you can catch her drinking it cold straight from the pot with a straw

Emo/pop punk teen and she definitely cried when MCR broke up, she also listens to a lot of Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Dottie West, Patsy Cline, etc

She’s been drawing since she was a kid- mainly works with charcoal and sometimes pastels. her sketchbooks are like her diaries and she’s never shown them to Anyone Ever

In her spare time, she still plays some guitar, draws, or reads; her library is extensive because she keeps every book she’s ever read or intends to read (it’s one of the few things she’ll drop real money on)

Very tactile person and fussy about textures, she prefers ultra soft blankets/pillows and her bed is basically a nest

Practical, efficient, frugal- she doesn’t necessarily find joy in cooking or anything but she can do it well enough, quick showers, uses cheap soap/shampoo, cuts her own hair

Her hands get super dry/chapped in the winter and it hurts very much :(

Never yells; when she gets angry she’s very cold & will Not hold back; every word is designed to hurt bc she’s purposefully poking at things she knows are sore spots

At the start of the books, she’s kind of... sleepwalking through life? like, she was in a not-great place mentally for most of her teens and didn’t really have a plan for the future but law enforcement was definitely not it? She isn’t feeling super passionate about what she’s doing and it kind of sucks to not have joy in purpose :( luckily that’s changing and is gonna be a significant part of her journey through the series!

Her apartment is cluttered but clean and she knows where everything is, if someone moved one of her things she would not be able to find it and it would bother her until she located it

She’s not stubborn exactly? Like she’ll concede an argument if it’s not super important to her and has no problem with losing or backing down in many cases; she’s pretty open minded in that respect, but if something is central to her values then she will Die before she backs down

On that note she’s overall a very logical person but when it comes down to it she'll follow her heart/first instinct

Does not care about rules or procedures At All, she'll follow them if it suits her end goal but otherwise... nope

Lowkey she… did not care about the reveal? it was a surprise but not her first priority in the moment- she kind of already thought UB was sketchy and didn’t trust them, so mainly she was pissed off that Rebecca had sent them to babysit her instead of actually help solve the murders

Speaking of Rebecca their relationship is kind of yikes. Kira isn’t exactly mad that Rebecca was gone so often, but she does think that she kind of forfeited her parenting rights and was annoyed that Rebecca was interfering with her life; first by getting her on the force and then by dropping UB on her. So now it’s Very Awkward between them because Kira doesn’t want to be like… mean but honestly what is there to say?? They’re trying but neither of them like to share personal information so it’s rough

On the subject of sharing, she just… genuinely doesn’t like to open up. Like, it doesn’t come naturally and in her mind it’s just… nobody else’s business what she’s feeling/what’s going on in her life

Genuinely does not realize that people care about her unless they openly tell her lmao... sad hours but at this point in the story she honestly doesnt think that any of UB cares abt her beyond their job besides the one she's dating :(

"Everyone should be allowed to feel things and rely on the support of the people around them, their emotions are Valid. not me though, this is my personal problem and as such its dumb so i have to get over it alone"

Her primary love language is acts of service, she wants the people she loves to have everything they might need; she’s Soft and really just wants snuggles but also she does not want to address it out loud

Her way of asking for affection is to just... stand/sit there and occasionally glance at the person... hovers like a sad ghost until she gets a hug... literally like 🥺👉👈 sjdhdkn Clown girl

She’s sarcastic and makes a lot of snarky comments, but generally she’s pretty honest unless she doesn’t want to talk about something (in which case she’ll brush it off and deflect or change subjects) which is why it annoys her so much when people are willfully dishonest or conniving

Pretty adaptable and capable of rolling with the punches but she generally dislikes surprises and being the center of attention

genuinely she's pretty chill! and a Huge enabler of chaos as well, like unless it's specifically bothering her she's gonna let it happen and mostly she thinks it's pretty funny to watch from the sidelines

in short she's basically like a feral cat who stares suspiciously at everyone from a distance until they successfully pspspsps their way into her heart and then she would die for them <3 but if she's mad she will make direct eye contact while shoving glasses off the counter

ahdgsksg ok last one i swear she Cannot Sit Properly, always has to be some flavor of lounging or leaning or sitting twisted into a pretzel

[thehoneybuzz]

Ashes to Ashes

Before April 23rd, I had never seen Mount St. Helens. She was a legend from my history textbooks - a harbinger of dark skies and an earth shaker. The Yakima Indian tribe calls her Si Yett, meaning woman. According to tribal mythology, the Great Spirit placed Si Yett between the battling brothers, Mount Adams and Mount Hood, to protect the region. Like other legends, Helens is a great marker of time. The question of, "Where were you when…" elicits memories as vivid as the glint of the glassy snow I found on her peak. 

After her eruption, some thought the world was ending. Observing her crater, her jagged peaks, and the ribbons of steam issuing from her, still - silent reminders of her violent potential - you are struck by her serenity as well as her power. Her allure is not a mystery, and it is that allure which called to me.

I thought she would make a perfect beginning. With peak elevation at 8,366 feet, she doesn't quite make the top 10 list of Washington's highest summits. Even at her tallest - 9,677 in 1980 - she only ranked at number five. Despite her diminished proportions, her treachery remains in her grade. You gain one thousand feet of elevation over each mile which makes her a formidable challenge. It was just the challenge I was looking to find. 

I packed and repacked gear, reviewed chapters on ice ax use and cold-weather layering in the Mountaineering Bible, and streamed endless hours of online videos in preparation. I hoped that all of this, in addition to my physical training, would be enough. I would be climbing my first mountain, and I would be facing the challenge alone. My companion was another inexperienced climber, and in conquering Helens, I would be solely responsible for my success - or my failure. 

Alone isn't something I'm afraid of - there is something to be said for self-sufficiency. My self-reliance has taken me to beautiful and terrifying places, unlocking the world in ways I couldn't anticipate. Being prepared, however, is critical. 

In aviation, before each flight, you inspect your airplane. The procedure never changes. Check oil, check gas, wings, ailerons, flaps, luggage compartment, rudder, elevator, wheels, brakes, antennas, lights, avionics. At this point in my flying career, the movements are automatic. I'll never forget the words of my first instructor, who told me, "You never want to be in the air wishing you had checked something on the ground. If you can be proactive, you should be. It could save your life." 

I took the lesson with me into mountaineering as I obsessively cycled through my gear list. I knew I was ready. So why did it feel like something was missing? I searched myself for answers. Charlie, our dog, sensed my impatience and rolled over on top of my neatly organized gear - adding a collection of his hair to my merino wool base layers. I laughed as I knelt to scratch him.

"Extra protection," I thought. 

That's when it hit me. 

Growing up, I lived on 20 acres adjacent to miles of preserved natural land. I spent most of my childhood with a book, a pocket knife, and a dog exploring the wilderness behind our home. It's where my love of nature was born. Jake, our family dog and a legend himself was my eager companion. 

"You can go wherever you'd like..." my mom would say as I packed a lunch for the day, "... so long as you bring the dog."

Jake was freedom, a good listener, and a ready companion. He was our protection. When my parents told me they'd be dividing our land and developing a new housing community, I mourned for myself, but I remember thinking what would happen to Jake. Had my parents forgotten him in their grand planning? I didn't know how he would survive in a shrinking world. 

It ended up not mattering much. My mom and step-dad divorced before the development took off. My brother, mother, and I moved into a one-bedroom apartment, and we took Jake with us. I was right to be worried about shrinking worlds but underestimated the magnitude. 

As I agonized over my lost home, Jake took on a new kind of protection. A constant in the raging sea of our changing lives, he remained steadfast. Unbothered by his changing condition, his fur caught my tears, and his ears caught my troubles. As a family, we rebuilt our lives. 

Jake held on for years for us, but after his hips went to the dysplasia typical of his breed, he simply couldn't hang on anymore. He let us know it was time - another one of his great mercies - and we did right by him. We lost our best friend that day. For all the space I thought he needed, what he wanted most was to be in our arms. That is how Jake left the world. If love could have saved him, it would have. 

No one quite knew what to do with his ashes. At first, it felt too soon. Having to say goodbye again so shortly after his loss seemed impossible. So Jake's ashes went into a cupboard, and there he stayed for 15 years. No moment or location ever seemed quite right. 

We had to move several boxes to find him. I remembered the sound of his collar as I gently divided his remains, securing a healthy portion rather unceremoniously in a ziplock bag. It was decided. I was taking Jake to the top of the mountain - My protector.

When I made it to the summit, I sobbed. I was overwhelmed at the release I felt - making those last few steps and revealing the world in all her glory. Mount Adams feels so close you truly feel as if you can reach out and touch his peak. The cornices that form atop the crater's edge tempt and terrorize you as you long to peek over their precarious ledges to view the scenery below. Rainier - invisible behind the peak - comes into view so sharply and suddenly that it shocks you. I don't think I'll ever be able to describe the peace and power you find at the top of mountains. 

As I took Jake's ashes from my pack, I looked up to find a group of skiers summiting behind me. I gasped out loud when I saw their companion. They had brought their young yellow dog - a ghost of Jake - to the summit. The dog smiled at me and came over.

I couldn't hide my tears as I buried Jake's remains in the snow. He had waited so patiently and so long to be back in nature. Putting him there felt almost spiritual. Ashes to ashes as two legends and mythical protectors - mountain and dog - laid together. Through tears, I shared my story with the group. Pippin, their lab, licked my ungloved hand as the alpine sun dried my tears. We toasted summit beers to mountain dogs and took off down the slope together. Having protected me one more time, Jake lay at rest on the summit at last. 

This June, I'll attempt Mt. Baker, and Jake will be with me again. It's been so many years since his passing; I was shocked at the depth of my emotions as I kneeled with his remains in the snow. I know rationally that his ashes add weight to my pack and don't offer any 'real' safety. You can't burn them in the cold; they don't purify water or offer sustenance. They are frivolous from the rational perspective. Yet, I can't imagine a summit without him. 

Growing up, I wanted a dog so badly that I gave my mom a PowerPoint presentation about why I deserved one. It's the irrational I'm interested in now. Knowing that when I needed him most, Jake was within arms reach, ready to guide me home. 

I honestly don't know if this is a story about mountains or a story about dogs. If it's a story about mountains, I could describe how every moment spent on the descent, I marveled at the beauty of the natural world. If it's about dogs, I could tell you about the two wet noses that welcomed me home: Sophie, my perfectly round Beagle with soft ears, and the sweetest hellos. Charlie, my foster fail, who, despite having been hit by a car as a puppy, approaches each day with an unrivaled sense of enthusiasm and joy. His love for life has reached me even in my darkest moments. Many happy years remain before I carry them up the summit, and for that, I am grateful.

By the time my feet hit the pavement of the trailhead, I could wring out my socks. They had been drenched in melting show. I was happy and exhausted. It struck me again how the world keeps turning even in those surreal moments when time appears to stand still. Our descent had been complicated - but proved I could endure difficult things. I sang as I removed my boots and smiled, leaning against the trunk of my car. I looked up at the mountain - invisible in the evening mist - that I had just conquered. 

Mountains and dogs, I thought. A girl doesn't really need much else. 

[theuntamednarrator]

Thank you @mika--82​ for the question! I’m sorry it took so long but since I really enjoyed plotting out my Cangse Sanren lives au, and I think a lot about the women in The Untamed who didn't get to see their children grow up, strap in for round two of TB Revives the Mothers of the Untamed. This week's episode: Save Mama Lan by killing Lan Qiren \^.^/

(Many thanks to @drwcn​ for letting me borrow her hc names for Mama Lan (Qui Baiti) and Papa Lan (Lan Cenrong). You can read more about them on her blog here and here.)

(Warning for an unsuccessful suicide attempt)

QBT has been isolated in the Jingshi for a decade. She only sees her sons once a month, she isn’t allowed her sword, and her spiritual power is kept sealed

But LWJ inherited his stubbornness from his mum and she's determined to escape, one way or another

LQR is walking by the Jingshi when he feels a massive surge of energy and breaks his first ever Discipline (no running in Cloud Recesses)

He wrenches the Jingshi door open and sees an array that wouldn't look out of place two decades in the future in an alternate universe in a dingy shed behind Mo Manor

LQR breaks his second Discipline in as many minutes (do not make excessive noise) when he screams for his brother before he grabs QBT and drags her out of the array

LQR didn't have time to think, let alone study what the effects of that might be, all he knew was that it was killing her, and that her death would kill the brother he loves more than anything else

The backlash strikes him and he keels over

QBT gathers him up, sobbing and asking why he did it, she wanted to die, why did you do it Lan-er-gongzi? what were you thinking? Your brother loves you

LQR meets his brother’s eyes as he appears over her shoulder, the terrified disciples flanking him a white blur

He smiles and says I know

Curtains on LQR

(alternatively, we can just kill JGS again because ngl that was real satisfying the first time around)

Now the Elders are in a pickle because this may have been an accident but QBT has now been responsible for the deaths of an Elder and Second Young Master Lan

It's decided that the only option is exile

QBT is forbidden from setting foot in Cloud Recesses and the territories of Gusu Lan for ten year and forbidden from speaking to any Lan disciple during that time

She bows, accepts back the plain sword she had yielded when she came through the gates to be married, and is gone before the dawn. LCR watches her leave and then goes to wake their sons

Now, QBT was a wandering cultivator long before she was Lan-furen and actually really enjoys returning to life on the road

I wandered once! I can do it again!

Five years later she meets XXC battling a ferocious demon snake and together they defeat it

QBT definitely doesn’t feel her heart beat a little faster at the youthful face, white robes, and elegant jade-and-silver sword

She answers XXC's graceful bow with one of her own and the two spend a week clearing out the fierce nests of demons on the mountain

The next time their wandering brings them together she is introduced to my good friend Song Lan and hides her smile in her sleeve

Meanwhile in Cloud Recesses without LQR to pick up the slack LCR is forced to step out of seclusion and actually run his sect and parent his children

He does a very good job

QBT has to fight back proud tears every time she hears Twin Jades of Lan spoken of with awe

Ten years to the day of her exile QBT is grinning as she climbs the long flights of stairs towards the gates of Cloud Recesses

Part of that might be the entertaining company she walks with

A young man clutching two bottles of Emperor's Smile and talking so fast she’s only half listening while she tries to figure out if he’s actually taken a breath since introducing himself

Talking at breakneck speed of the young master who had been so strict with him at the gates, aiya Auntie! He was so cold! you should have seen his stony face

QBT only grins harder as WWX climbs the wall, is challenged, and blades flash over tiles (it might bring back fond memories of her own youth)

She slips over the wall while they are distracted and once WWX is silenced she reaches out her hand

You handle your sword beautifully, may I?

LWJ can't even say why - it's too dark to see her face and the voice is roughened after 10 years on the road - but he hands Bichen over without a second thought

She sighs as she runs a finger over the blade and the steel glows, lighting up her face (solely because I think glowy Bichen is very sexy and we should have had more of it in the drama honestly)

Bichen suits you better than it ever suited me, ZhanZhan 

LWJ is emoting all over the place (so embarrassing)

(luckily his back is to WWX because if baby disaster bi WWX saw that smile he would've died on the spot)

WWX of course is still a troublemaking rule breaker and LWJ is still charged with overseeing his punishment

QBT and LXC are united in their LWJ should make friends agenda and LXC inherited his sense of humour and delight for teasing LWJ from QBT

Between the two of them LWJ soon has more friends than he knows what to do with

QBT and LXC co-captain the good ship Wangxian

Of course plot stuff still happens including accidental-marriage-before-a-Quest-Ghost

XXC and SL meet them in Yueyang and when LWJ introduces himself they're thrilled because hey we know your mum! she’s real cool!

They don't trust the clans and they might've heard of NMJ but they know Qui-jiejie and they trust her and so they decide XY will go to Cloud Recesses for judgement

N-wow the twin jades are really deserving of their reputations-HS insists on a Qinghe representative going too

oh me? no no Wei-xiong this has been quite enough adventure for me. Meng Yao you'll go won't you? Dage trusts you and Lan-gongzi admired your *delicate cough* capability *innocent smile*

my.blush.com/embarrassed/yearning agrees

QBT is delighted to see XXC and SL again and happily introduces them to her elder son

SL and LXC almost immediately get into a heated debate over ahistorical fantasy chinese philosophy and/or politics and are instantly bonded

QBT may or may not have instigated said debate with a well-timed quote from a well-known (re: divisive) text

Basically QBT shares my get LXC more friends agenda

SL is, again, the first person (apart from LXC and his parents) to laugh at LWJ's jokes

WWX still refuses to believe this actually happened (the joke and SL laughing) (XXC swears it’s true)

XY is locked in the back hills and eventually a) dies trying to use his hidden piece of the yin iron to break the seals OR b) is rehabilitated by the power of bunnies and become an outer disciple (reader's choice!)

XXC and SL accompany WWX and JC part of the way to Lotus Pier

Cloud Recesses is attacked, QBT and LCR send LXC and MY away with the sacred texts, MY promising he knows somewhere safe to hide

LWJ refuses to leave his parents. The losses are not as bad as in canon, the Wen are beaten back, but LCR and LWJ are both injured

No Good Very Bad Summer Camp with World's Worst Head Counselor WC

No Good Very Bad Turtle Cave of Love

WWX wakes post-rescue with LWJ still there

(Because his parents are holding Cloud Recesses and he knows LXC is safe so he doesn't need to rush off)

JZX, JC, LWJ, and WWX spend a day planning before they split up

(this is hilarious and JC says "fuck" not less than 219 times)

(WWX only almost punches JZX and it only happens twice honestly people should be grateful! he was so restrained!!)

They all return home, LWJ promising to bring reinforcements from Cloud Recesses to Lotus Pier (because it's the most obvious next target. no other reason. just. strategically it makes sense)

WQ sends WN to Lotus Pier to warn WWX when WZL's forces are on their way

When the Wen attack, they're met with a prepared force of 1) YZY and the Jiang Disciples 2) QBT, LWJ, and a contingent of Lan Disciples AND 3) JC and WWX and a gaggle of archers (seriously why tf show the Jiang being so good and then only give us two archery fight scene moments and it’s heart breaking sixth young master jiang dying and some rando ouyang disciple shooting WWX?)

Things get a little hairy but between YZY and QBT they defeat WZL and the rest of the Wen quickly surrender

JFM and JYL arrive just as the battle is ending, escorted by Madam Jin, JZX, LQY, and all the Jin Disciples who were at Cloud Recesses

(WWX: MianMian you came you must have been so worried about me! LQY, ignoring him: Lan-er-gongzi are you okay? WWX: ah Lan Zhan you MianMian really likes you! that’s lucky! LWJ, screaming internally: mn)

(JGS was furious when JZX announced he was joining the campaign but what could he possibly say in front of his battle ready wife without looking like the utter coward of a wet biscuit he is)

Once again WWX is left with a screaming sword, too much curiosity, and too much time on his hands (due to his adopted family being not-dead)

But worse he has now also access to a woman who created an array powerful enough to kill even with her spiritual power sealed

Poor WRH doesn't stand a chance, even without MY spying for the Sunshot Campaign

After the battle QBT&LCR and YZY&JFM shut JGS's bullshit power grab down real quick and JGS sulks like the baby he is (probably in a brothel) while Madam Jin and JZX take over Lanling Jin

JZX hears about MY and the way he helped LXC and NMJ sends a letter of support and JZX is already quite jealous of all these sibling bonds and welcomes Ziyao with open arms

(All of which goes slightly to waste when JZY marries out to the Lan clan slightly less than a year later but hey, at least it's a good alliance.)

WQ takes over the Wen Clan but tears down Nightless City and relocates the capital to Dafan

(WQ: have you been to Nightless City? It’s built on an active volcano. Do you know how bad sulfur ash is for open wounds? Do you know what medical herbs grow in lava slurry? None is the answer. My family are all fucking morons)

(WQ: Not you a-Ning you’re a delight and we’re thrilled you’re here)

Rumour has it a certain immortal was so impressed with the stories of the medical techniques of Dafan Wen that she paid WQ a visit

(Disciples are so reckless after all! One never knows when one might need to be capable of transplanting vital organs!)

Each year WWX and LWJ spend 3 months at Gusu, 3 months at Lotus Pier, and 6 months wandering with XXC and SL

They get "fake married" no less than four times in three years (for the investigation xiongzhang! absolutely no other reason shishu! no other reason at all!) before LXC, MY, XXC, and SL get fed up and barricade them in their room until they talk to each other dammit

(LXC is very grateful MY has gotten so handy with the silencing talismans because the 'conversation' gets uncomfortably loud real quick)

Side note to say Clarity works very well to avert a qi deviation when it's not being actively corrupted, thanks very much, and NMJ lives many, many, many years which would be entirely happy if only NHS would pick up his saber once in a while

He would tell NHS this if he could ever find him

Happy ending!³

[bellshells]

Splitting Hairs ch.4

Hello! Here is chapter four of Splitting Hairs, it’s a long one so grab a snack, grab a cup of tea and settle in. As always, thank you for taking the time to read this <3

Word Count: 3469 Severus x OC

Warnings: Moderate Smut, Alcohol  Summary: Sev has a new hobby and he has a jaunt out with galpals Minerva and Valentine. Shit goes down. Whoops.

Previous Chapter  Next Chapter Start from the beginning

One thing that Severus did not anticipate, was having a nice time with Minerva and Valentine. But he did. That night and the five following Fridays after. Minerva had insisted on inviting Valentine and Severus didn’t refuse. Valentine had always kept an appropriate amount of space between them, and they were able to speak somewhat freely. Minerva really was the crutch that they both desperately clung to, she was a mediator and comfort to them both and Severus was eternally grateful. He didn’t bother to disguise his enjoyment over spending time with the two witches, they were like two peas in a pod and Valentine quickly fell into step in their unlikely friendship.

He was struggling though still; he couldn’t dismiss his reoccurring consternation for his conflicted emotions. Whilst he was relishing in his new friendship with Valentine, the ghost of Lily Evans still haunted the corners of his mind. Severus felt like a complete hypocrite, he had assured nay- promised himself that he would do anything possible to avoid Valentine; yet he couldn’t bring himself to refuse her “Same again next week, Severus?” He wondered whether he would ever be free of Lily and the way he felt, or if she would remain a phantom of his subconscious. Lily would have found this all hilarious, he was sure. She often encouraged him to seek out a girlfriend, but he was never brave enough to explain why he always refused. Now, he cursed himself. If only he had taken her advice all those years ago, maybe not to find ‘the one’ but to gain a few experiences. He was thirty years old and had up until very recently never been kissed. He wasn’t ashamed per se, but now it was all that he could think about. Valentine had presented him with an opportunity that he never thought possible, and who was to say that it might not happen again? His lack of experience weighed heavily on him, he felt fit to burst with it all. His all-consuming guilt, his growing attraction for Valentine and his insecurity about being a virgin.

It was all Severus could do to fall asleep at night. It was like he was going through a second puberty. He had brewed a week’s worth of Sleeping Draught and he knew if he took it just before he got into bed, he had enough time to pleasure himself before falling asleep. It had become a nightly occurrence, almost an obsession. Severus didn’t think of himself as a very sexually minded person, especially throughout his adolescence, he had viewed masturbation as something inherently wrong and refrained from doing it. Now, he couldn’t get enough. He looked forward to it, making himself come and then having a dreamless sleep. It was fantastic, why he’d never thought of doing it before was baffling.  He would hot-foot it to his rooms on the nights he wasn’t hosting a detention, or on the ‘curfew night-watch’ as Mr. Filch so affectionately named it. He found he felt better for it in the morning too, like for a moment when he opened his eyes; everything was right with the world. Like everything else in his life though, that moment would pass, and he would be reminded that his life was a disaster.

That particular Friday night after Minerva and Valentine had returned to their respective quarters, and he was in bed, living his usual nightly ritual; he was different. His hand around his throbbing cock was tighter than normal, and he lifted his hand to his throat and pressed down, constricting his air flow. He came almost immediately. He laughed to himself, both impressed and surprised. He fell asleep soon after, a satisfied grin etched onto his face. When he awoke in the morning, he felt lighter, almost happy. He roused himself and got ready for the day, Saturday’s were his absolute favourite and he was excited. He smiled like a child as he pulled a fairly thick cloak over his shoulders. The weather was definitely turning and being that far up into Scotland; when the wind blew, it rattled through to your very bones. Quite satisfied with his appearance, he left his rooms and made his way out of the dungeons and towards Valentine’s quarters, he gave one swift knock on the door and waited patiently. It was quite simple really, collect Valentine on the way to meet Minerva and they would journey into Hogsmeade together. Just a few minutes of conversation to fill before he could get a firewhisky in his system and feel a little bit more comfortable around her. Minerva’s words had really stuck with him, it was nice to have a friend in Valentine. Whilst it was unfortunate that she carried with her some uncomfortable feelings for him; it wasn’t her fault. He found with each encounter; it became easier. He was able to find differences between them. Valentine’s nose for example, was longer than Lily’s. She was taller too, and obviously, she was alive.

He spied out of the corner of his eye, where the corridor bent into the belly of the castle a pair of twins. Orange haired and lanky even for their young age, Fred and George Weasley. They skulked close to the wall, whispering to themselves and checking their surroundings. Severus, cloaked in darkness watched them intently as one of them pulled out a battered piece of parchment from a pocket, and opened it. The boys poured their attention into it, scouring each corner of it with their gaze. From where Severus was stood, the parchment appeared completely blank and he toyed with idea of interfering, but the click of a lock being turned on the other side of Valentine’s door made his mind up quickly.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and offered Valentine a small smile as she opened the door. She stood before him, dressed in muggle clothes, her hair tied in a ponytail and her eyes red with tears. “Professor Valentine?” Severus said, confused and concerned. Valentine ushered him inside silently and blew her nose on a hanky hidden in her hand. She closed the door softly behind him and gestured for Severus to sit on the sofa, which he did uncomfortably. Whilst he had spent quite a few hours with Valentine, he had always been with Minerva; he had never been alone with her. He was suddenly very aware of every inch of his skin, every fibre of the fabric of his robes. He hadn’t washed his hair this morning, would he smell of the potions classroom? No, no. He was trying something new, being friends. Friends don’t care if you don’t look your best all the time. Severus tried to slow his quickening breath by returning his attention to Valentine, she was stood at the fireplace watching a piece of parchment turn to ashes. “Are you alright?” He asked, he knew it was a stupid question, but that’s the sort of things friends say, isn’t it? “Yes. Sorry,” Valentine said as she turned towards him, she picked up a coat which hung on the back of a chair and pushed her arms through it. “Are you ready to go?” She enquired, she tried to make her voice lighter as she spoke, but her face gave her away. Severus rose from his perch and stood awkwardly. “Forgive me if its not my place, but if there’s anything troubling you and you would like to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.” He said softly, he tried to make his face as amenable as he could; but in reality, he just felt daft. She shook her head with a sad smile, and took a deep breath, wiping her hands across her face decidedly. “No, honestly its nothing. I just had a letter from my dad is all.” Valentine said not-so-nonchalantly. Severus kept quiet, unsure of what he should say next. “Shall I tell Minerva that you won’t be coming?” He asked and moved swiftly towards the door. “No! Really, I’m fine. I was just expecting to hear something…different from what he had to say. If you give me two seconds, I’ll be absolutely fine, and we can go. Promise.” She gave him a real smile then, albeit a small one. She disappeared into her loo and emerged a minute or two later looking more like herself and looking more like Lily in her jumper and jeans. He used to laugh at Lily for keeping track of muggle trends, the 70’s were a dubious decade for fashion at best and Lily had wholeheartedly embraced it. “Is your father…well?” Severus asked hesitantly, he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say but it had fallen from his lips anyway. He watched as Valentine opened the door for him and offered him a wicked smile; “Unfortunately.” Was all she said.

The sun had shone as the three of them had left the castle, but as they entered The Three Broomsticks, a rain cloud had settled over Hogsmeade and they scurried in to avoid it. Severus flagged down a young woman behind the bar and ordered drinks for the three of them before settling in a quiet corner and removing his cloak. Minerva told them of how she had been in a foul mood all the week through, she had had a disagreement with Albus over the previous weekend and had only made up with him the day before. Severus laughed as Minerva did impeccable impressions of the Headmaster, letting Valentine ask questions about what he was like behind the half-moon spectacles and telling her stories of what he was like from when Severus was a student. “Of course, the world looked very different back then,” Minerva said, wiping a tear from her eye. She had laughed so much at Severus’ tale of accidentally locking himself in Albus’s office and thinking he had killed Fawkes, Albus’ phoenix, she had cried. “It certainly did.” He agreed. A moments silence passed between the three as Minerva and Severus left unsaid what they did not speak of. Almost as if it knew, he felt his Dark Mark tingle on his arm. It didn’t burn anymore, like it had when the Dark Lord was alive; but any time he thought about it, it let itself be known. “Enough talk of us,” Minerva started, swiftly changing the subject. “I’d love to know more about your years in France Elizabeth, it must have been terribly exciting?” Valentine took a contemplative sip of her whisky, then shook her head. “It wasn’t actually, it was really quite difficult. I didn’t speak a word of French when I got there so I sort of had to just muddle through. Plus, I was dealing with the heartbreak of not getting to attend Hogwarts.” Valentine mimed her heartbreak and Severus laughed again. “It was definitely an experience, but I’m not sure I would do anything differently if I was to go back.” “That must be a luxury,” Minerva said, “To have no regrets?” “Of course I have regrets. But overall, I have to say it may have done me some good. I had to learn resilience and develop a very thick skin…I can’t complain about that really.” Valentine levelled; Severus could feel that she was in pain as she spoke to them. She wasn’t being truthful again, and Severus tried to not let it bother him. He just couldn’t fathom why she felt she couldn’t be honest about her experiences, and that bizarre comment she made about her father had troubled him. Of course, he was no stranger to harbouring ill towards his father, it made him uneasy to think she was holding onto something to cause her such anguish. The feeling was so thick, almost tangible and his heart ached for her.

Severus could faintly hear the sound of the pub doors swing open, but it wasn’t until he saw Minerva’s back stiffen that he thought to look behind him. A tall blonde man dressed head to tow in black finery stood purveying the scene, a small boy who bore his intense likeness stood at the man’s side. Severus caught the man’s eye and before he could look away, the man swished towards him, yanking the boy in tow. “Severus, how delightful it is to see you,” Lucius Malfoy crooned, a sly smirk settling on his face. Severus felt his stomach fall, it had been a few years since Severus had been this close to Malfoy or anybody else from his former life. He fought to hide his rising panic as Malfoy tipped his head to Minerva; “Minerva, always a pleasure. You remember my son, Draco?” Minerva managed a stiff smile to the young boy who did not return it. Instead, Draco yawned and tapped his father on the arm. Malfoy swatted the boy away, his attention firmly fixed on to Valentine who, when Severus looked over at her, had gone deathly pale. “Hello Miss…” Valentine was silent. Her jaw clenched tight and Severus could feel her fury from across the table. Minerva placed her hand on Valentine’s shoulder. “Professor Valentine is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Lucius.” Minerva piped, her gaze shifting between Malfoy and Valentine. Malfoy’s gaze didn’t waver as his smirk evolved into a sneer. “I bet she is.” He said. “Come Draco, our friend will be waiting for us upstairs. Ta ta.” With a flourish of his hand they were gone. Valentine looked positively livid as she watched Malfoy and his son meander up the stairs. “What a dick.” Valentine whispered; Minerva’s strained smile immediately transformed into a true grin.   “That my dear, is correct.”

Although Severus couldn’t disagree with Valentine’s sentiment, his face betrayed his confusion. That did not appear to him to be two people who had never met before. “Do you…do you know each other?” Severus asked Valentine, she turned her head slowly in his direction. “No, I just didn’t like his attitude.” Valentine smiled as she rose from the table. “One for the road?” Severus and Minerva watched as Valentine made her way to the bar and ordered more drinks, they both shared the same apprehensive expression. “Is it just me or was that a trifle…awkward.” Minerva asked Severus quietly, her face was awash with concern. He just shook his head, he wanted to tell Minerva that Valentine was lying. He could tell the minute she said she didn’t know Lucius that she wasn’t being truthful, and it made him slightly fearful as to what Valentine knew. Severus wondered whether Valentine’s past, the little that he knew about it had been as straight forward as she made it seem. He knew she was lying about her father’s busines in France, she had been truly upset after having received word from him this morning and now, pretending not to know Lucius when it was abundantly clear that they had some sort of connection. Albeit, a hostile one. There was obviously so much that neither Severus or Minerva knew about Valentine, and that made him uneasy. He knew that the Dark Lord was immensely popular overseas, and that many of his foreign followers had evaded capture after the war. Could Valentine have been one of them? No, she was still a teenager when the Dark Lord was killed- she couldn’t have been. But somebody close to her could have been.

Valentine returned to the table with a renewed energy. Six whiskies sat on a tray that she carried unsteadily in her hands. Minerva stifled a laugh as she haphazardly set them down on the table. “I thought you said one for the road, Elizabeth!” Minerva said in mock protest, readily accepting her two drinks from Valentine. The young witch just smiled and passed two more to Severus. “I just thought that as you’d had a hellish week Minerva, and I’ve not had a good drink since before term started that we deserved these. And Severus always looks in need of a stiff one.” She said with a wink. Minerva spluttered on her drink and let out a laugh that seemed to come from her belly. Severus rolled his eyes at the two cackling witches and tried not to let his embarrassment show. “From the looks of the two of you, it doesn’t seem like I’m the one in need of a stiff one.” He said with a smirk, Minerva howled with laughter and Valentine hid behind her hands, her shoulders bobbing up and down as she laughed. Severus was pleased with his retort, but he felt slightly panicked too. He shouldn’t have said that. He blamed it on the alcohol, he was being far too suggestive, and it wasn’t like him. Neither he nor Valentine had addressed what had happened the night they met and when Minerva had pressed Severus for information; he had merely put it down to intoxication. After a further two rounds the three stood, Minerva slightly unsteady on her feet clung to Valentine’s coat as the exited the bar. Severus couldn’t help but smile, he had drunk with Minerva many times and only on a few occasions had he seen her drunk. But as he watched the deputy headmistress try and act sober as they encountered students on their way back to the castle; he knew he would not let her forget it in a hurry.

Severus and Valentine left Minerva outside the Great Hall when they arrived, dinner was just about to begin, and Minerva had told them six or seven times on the way back that she was ravenous. Minerva waved goodbye to the pair as she expertly walked the way down the long pews towards the high table. Severus turned his attention towards Valentine, she stood with a smile as she watched Minerva safe to her spot next to Albus. “You not going in?” He asked her. Valentine shook her head and began walking down the corridor, Severus followed her wordlessly, having to increase his pace in order to catch up with her. “Something the matter?” “I’m just not feeling terribly sociable, Severus. You can go in though; Minerva might need someone to help her with her knife and fork.” She laughed; Severus didn’t reply instead choosing to continue walking with her. “Are you not hungry?” “Not really, I’ll send for something later if I need to.” He said, Valentine just nodded without looking at him. Why wouldn’t she look at him? He struggled to keep pace with her, maybe he should eat something. His legs felt heavy as he willed them onwards, the effect of the firewhisky suddenly in full force. They continued silently towards the dungeons and Severus was unnerved by Valentine’s quietness.

He wasn’t sure whether he was feeling brave because of the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed, or because he hadn’t thought of Lily in hours- but he reached for her hand and placed in the crook of his arm. Valentine raised her eyebrows at the contact but didn’t stop or speak, just continued walking in silence. When they reached her quarters, Valentine stopped and opened the door and stood expectantly. “Well?” she said, “Are you coming in?” Severus’ expression was pained. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her, but he had promised himself. He was sober enough to remember that, at least. “I probably shouldn’t,” he muttered. “I don’t think I could trust myself not to…” he didn’t finish his sentence but gestured vaguely in front of him. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could see a flash of hurt dance over Valentine’s face. She turned to enter the room but stopped herself before she reached the door and turned fast on her heel. She approached Severus slowly until their bodies almost touched. Severus found himself barely breathing as he stared down into to Valentine’s brilliant green eyes, he acted on sheer impulse. He captured her face in his hands and brought his lips down to hers. They were like magnets finally come together, she kissed him desperately in the archway of her chambers and Severus tried to walk her backwards into the awaiting room, but Valentine pulled away with a coy smile. His arms were empty and yearned for her. Valentine backed into her room and put her hand on the door handle. “Goodnight, Professor.” She said with a sly smile and slowly shut the door. 

Severus was left in the chill of the dark corridor feeling a mixture of sadness and delight. He made his way the short distance to his chambers and locked himself in for the evening. He tried his very hardest to keep the elation he felt last as long as possible, downing a bottle of Sleeping Draught and climbing into bed commencing his nightly ritual with a newfound vigour.