#I had one when I was younger and named it Stary

[pkmn-smashorpass]

Do me a favor and throw a reblog to my favorite Pokémon 🥺

[cheemken]

Okay I need to share this lil AU I made before I just implode

Drayton is a hisuian zorua! He got isekai’d from hisui when Ingo/PLA protag managed to find a way back to present time! He landed in Unova along w/ Ingo but Drayton landed near opelucid city and was found by his soon to be parents! He was injured when they found him and he certainly didn’t trust them as ppl in hisui never treated him well (his zoroark parents were killed :( ) so they had a bit of trouble nursing him back to health until Drayden made a visit bc his son made a phone call about a weird zoura that was injured

Once Drayton saw Drayden he was literally just pikachu surprised face with stary eyes bc he thought Dreyden looked so cool!!!! So he begrudgingly allows his parents to nurse him back to health but he also sticks to Drayden like glue so he was nicknamed Drayton :)

Once he’s healed up he started causing mischief like zoura tend to do! Although he’s grown to like his parents along side Drayden now! One day he shifted to look like a human child similar to Drayden and Drayden’s son just to cause a bit of mischief and eventually he just starts spending a lot of time in his human form as he finds out being a human is fun!!! Like really fun!! Eventually one day his parents kinda just sit him down and ask him if he would like to be a human bc they notice he stays in that form a lot and become their son (they cannot have biological kids bc fertility issues so I imagine Iris is also adopted!) so he becomes their son and the nickname Drayton becomes his official name!!! Although he still shifts back to a zoura sometimes at home or in private!

I think iris was away training or something when Drayton first arrived and her parents just called her saying they adopted another kid but once she comes back home she’s told the full truth about her new baby bro and let me tell you, THEY HIT IT OFF INSTANTLY!!!!! Vibing together as dragon sibs!!!

Eventually Drayton becomes a trainer which is a little weird at first but all of his pkmn joined him willingly as they wanted to get stronger! Plus having a trainer who’s a Pokemon makes it easier for him to understand their needs and wants! He also enrolls into blueberry Academy for the fun of it as he wants to learn a lot about being human! He absolutely THRIVES in the polar biome as it reminds him of Alabaster Icelands!

No one but his family know he’s a zoura so making friends is a little challenging at first bc his first friend knew he was a zoura and now he’s keeping that part of himself hidden but eventually he meets the rest of the E4 and they all click quite well together!!!

Jeebus this ask is probably pretty long oops and I didn’t even talk about how’d Drayton would be when opelucid froze over, that’ll probably be its own ask lol~Drayton angst anon💛

You've heard of N is a Zoroark, now get ready for Drayton is a Zorua hahaha

That's interesting tho👀👀👀

Cute how he looks up to Drayden so much he wanted to look like a younger version of him hahaha

But also imagine tho if he and N interacts too, like N immediately knows Drayton is a Zorua, bc he thought it was his own Zorua. Imagine N and Iris arguing bc of that tho, N saying how hypocritical it is for Drayton, a Zorua, to disguise himself as a human, to "capture" his fellow pokemon. Ofc, Drayton was quite young during that, he was scared of N, but Iris was there defending him that N has a lot of nerve saying that, considering that he himself has captured pokemon too. N said those pokemon are his friends, Iris shot back how Drayton's pokemon are also his friends, he didn't capture them, they joined him willingly

It'd be cool to see if Iris and N have some sort of beef over that tho, bc ofc, N was kinda misguided at the start of the story, while Iris is rather protective of her brother. Even after things settled down and N tried to atone for his misdeeds, and while Drayton was starting to be comfortable w him, w N even leaving his own Zorua for Drayton, he and Iris still don't see eye to eye

But y'know as a mischievous Zorua, would he even be a slacker in this au? Imagine him turning to a Slakoth sometimes too that'd be cute hahah

[its--fandom--darling]

Famous Last Words ~ chapter 3

word count: 2,719; fic rating: R; warnings: age gap relationship, slow burn, this chapter is mainly about Sy and his whole backstory. I hope you come to love this version of Sy that has come to me. I also need to note that in the first chapter the reader notices the burial flag on Sy’s mantle. I need to change the dates on that to make this story work better, because I wrote that little tidbit into the first chapter without thinking that it’d be important to Sy’s backstory. Sy decided otherwise, so RIP Bryce Svyerson, 1990 - 2009, With that being said please enjoy this story and I look forward to hearing what y’all think!

- a reminder that my blog is strictly 18 plus -

also I’ve chosen Reese Witherspoon, as the facclaim for Sy’s sister. 

Sy stares at his phone, a crooked smile on his face as he rakes his eyes over the picture that you send him. He frowns as he opens his camera and plants a smile on his face before snapping a picture and sending it off and telling you to “Have a great day, Bug.” He can’t seem to keep the smile off his face throughout the day as he goes about his business. From the hardware store to the farmer’s market, his thoughts work their way back to you in his t-shirt sitting across from him the morning and it makes him incredibly happy.

But when his brain flashes back to you in Mallory’s abandoned shirt, it gives him weird mix of feelings in deep in his gut. It crosses his wires and he’s not sure that he like it one bit. Part of him regrets giving it to you and he hopes that it won’t become part of your day-to-day wardrobe. His phone rings, breaking his thoughts. He smiles when he sees his little sister’s name flash across the screen.  “Hey little sister, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“First of all, I’m only 10 minutes younger than you. Second, I was wondering if you were free to get lunch.”

Sy chuckles, “Still my baby sister, 10 minutes or not. I’d be down to meet for lunch since I’m already out, meet at the diner?”

              “You’re never gonna let me live down those ten fuckin minutes are you?”

He grins, “Nope, see you in 15?”

              “See you in 15,” she confirms, before hanging up.

Sy backs out of his parking spot and heads towards the local diner. After finding a parking spot out in front of the diner, he heads inside to claim a table for himself and his sister. Selecting his favorite corner booth, he nods politely to the cook behind the counter and peruses the menu even though he knows it by heart. The door opens and he looks up, smiling when he sees his sister come swishing into the restaurant. She swipes her gaze over the customers before landing on him, she smiles and playfully flips him the bird before hurrying over to join him.

He slips from the booth and opens his arms to her as she approaches.

              “Hey Sy,” she says, letting him wrap her in one of his bear hugs.

“Hey Will, how ya been?” he asks, dropping a kiss on her head before letting her go. The twins sit across from each other and Willa picks up a sugar packet and stary to fiddle with it in her hands.

              “I’ve been good, but guess who called me this morning?”

Sy shrugs, smiling kindly at the waitress that brings him his mug of coffee and takes his sisters drink order before leaving. “I don’t know, who?”

              “Miss Ida,” Willa says with a shit-eating grin.

Sy groans, “That ole gossip? What did she have to say?”

              The waitress brings by Willa her milkshake and she smirks at Sy before taking a sip. “that you had a lady friend over last night.”

Sy scrubs a hand over his scruffy face. “Would it kill that woman to mind her own business?”

              Willa makes a small squeaking sound. “So it’s true?! Oh my god, who was it?”

“No one you know, Will, besides, I don’t know if it’ll go anywhere, she’s too young for me honestly and I already fucked up.”

              Willa furrows her brow at him. “What did you do?” she asks, voice low.

Sy groans slightly and drops his face into his hands. “I gave her one of Mallory’s shirt to wear today so that she didn’t have to make a walk of shame.”

              Willa’s jaw drops open. “Two things, big brother. One, what the fuck? Two, why do you still have that bitches things at your place? Take that shit to the Goodwill.”

Sy fixes her with a stern look. “Don’t call her that.”

              “Sy, I will call her whatever I want to. She left you while you were at your lowest. While you were grieving,” Willa says, sipping her shake again.

“I know that, Will, but honestly I understand why she left. I was a mess and there was no light at the end visible at the end of the tunnel yet. She didn’t know if I was ever gonna snap out of it, neither did you.”

              “Yeah, but I didn’t give up on you like she did.”

Sy shakes his head, “Can we not hash this out again?”

              Willa sighs and rolls her eyes, before sitting back against the back of the booth and crosses her arms. “Fine, so what are you going to do about this little fuck up?”

Sy scratches the back of his head briefly. “Well, she doesn’t exactly know that I fucked up.”

              The waitress comes by and takes their orders, makes some small talk while she refills Sy’s mug and then heads off.

              Willa sighs, swirls her straw in the melted remains of her strawberry milkshake. “Big brother, I don’t know how you are gonna fix your little fuck up besides being on with her, but besides that I’m gonna say one last thing about the whole Mallory thing, alright?”

Sy acquiesces with a nod.

“I don’t know what you have to do to get it, but call or text Mallory and get some closure, because you can really move on until you do. Because it’s freakin’ weird that you still have some of your ex-fiancée’s clothes 10 years later. If you want there to be a chance that things move forward with your “lady friend”, you need to make sure the door with Mallory is resolved.”

Sy huffs and scratches at his beard, “I think you’re right, Will.”

              She frowns at him, “Of course, I’m fuckin right.”

He shakes his head and flips her off before finishing off his fries. They sit for a while and talk, catching up for a while before they go their separate ways.

Later That Night

Sy is sitting on his couch, scrolling through his contacts. His sets his phone on the coffee table and stares at his phone, clenching his jaw as he considers the number on the screen. He doesn’t know if Mallory has changed her number, he doesn’t know where else to start to contact her. He runs a hand down over his face and lets out a deep sigh, then picks up the phone once more and dials the number. It rings which is a good sign and he impatiently bounces his leg as it drags on. Finally, someone answers.

              A melodic voice dances across the line and Sy feel his heart twist. “Hello, this is Mallory.”

Sy freezes for a split second and then clears his throat, “Uh, Hi, Mallory. It’s Sy, uh Wyatt Syverson.”

              The is silent for a beat, “Hi, Wyatt. It’s been a long time hasn’t it?”

Sy hears a door shut and imagines that she’s shut herself into a room. He reminds that seeing her wedding announcement in the local paper a few years ago and he feels guilty all over again for making this call. “Sure has.”

              “So why are you calling, Wyatt?” she asks, voice low and soft.

“I was just wondering if you’d be willing to, uh, maybe meet with me and talk. I’m just looking to get some closure because I think it’s about time.”

              She sighs softly. “When are you free?”

“Ugh, does tomorrow night work?” he murmurs, heart in his throat.

              “I think I can work that out, same place as always?” she asks, quietly.

Sy wets his lips with his tongue. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Silence takes the line once more and Sy swallows thickly before speaking again.

“Uh, Mal,”

              “Yeah, Sy?” she responds.

“Thanks for doing this,” he whispers, running a large hand over his buzzed head.

              “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”

He nods, “Still I appreciate it.”

              “Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have a good night, Sy.”

“You too, Mal.”

              The line goes dead and Sy drops back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his face.

He picks up his phone, shoots you a “good night text”, then shuts his phone off and goes to pour himself a drink.

The next few days go by quickly, Sy spends his days texting you more than he’s ever texted anyone, but he finds himself happier too. He finds himself looking forward to your texts with silly little emojis more and more, so its fair to say that he’s surprised when his phone rings and your pretty face lights up his screen. He smiles as he swipes the screen to answer the call.

“Hey Bug,” he murmurs, smiling to himself.

              “Hey handsome,” you say, softly.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, pushing up from the couch and padding to the kitchen to get himself a beer. Popping the cap off the bottle, he takes a sip as he heads back towards the living room and settles into the couch with a sigh.

              “I just wanted to hear your voice,” you admit, voice low and soft across the line.

He smiles to himself as his chest fills with warmth. “Is that so?”

              You hum in confirmation and he hears a sniffle.

“Bug, you cryin?” he asks, softly.

              Another set of sniffles come across the line.

“Bad day, bug?”

              “yeah, it wasn’t good,” you whisper.

“What can I do, darlin?”

              “Will you just tell me about your day?” you ask.

“Of course, what do you wanna know?”

              You sniffle and then let out a small scoff, “Is it too corny for me to say everything?”

Sy smiles crookedly and takes another swig of his beer. “Not at all. So, the first thing, I did today was go to the gym, got a good workout in there then I went to the coffee shop and tried one of those drinks were telling me about and as I told you earlier, I felt like my teeth were vibrating that drink was so sweet bug,” he starts, smiling wider when you giggle a little bit at the mention of his visit to the local starbucks for a Frappuccino. He continues to talk with you until he hears you yawn, and your breathing start to even out as you drift off. He leaves his phone on the call for a while, making sure that you don’t wake up before he whispers a good night into the line and hangs up before crawling into bed himself. As he lies awake in his bed, he feels slightly guilty for not telling you about his drink meet up with Mallory tomorrow. There’s a part of him that doesn’t want the pain of what happened to him and Mallory to touch you or taint your image of him, but the voice in the back of his head tells him that he should’ve just been honest about it with you.

Friday Night

The bar is crowded, the jukebox is blaring and Sy is nervous. He’s on his second beer and contemplating having shot of whiskey when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns on the stool and meets the eyes of the woman that he was once going to call his wife and his stomach drops. Even after all these years she looks the same. Her hair is longer, face fuller but her eyes are still just as blue as he remembers. His voice dies in his throat as she smiles at him.

              “Hey Wyatt,” she says, sliding into the seat next to him.

Sy clears his throat and signals the bartender, “Your drink still a gin and tonic?”

              She nods, putting her purse on the bar.

He orders her a drink and a whiskey on the rocks for himself, before turning to her. “Thank you for coming.”

              “Of course, Sy,” she says, touching his arm softly.

He swallows thickly, heart clenching painfully at the gesture.  “So, I just wanna start by saying that I understand why you left. I was a mess, there wasn’t any light at the end of the tunnel in sight and I know that it couldn’t have been easy to live with me during that time. But that shit destroyed me, I didn’t feel like I had anything left to live for after that.”

              Mallory sips her drink and nods, “I know that it was awful of me to do that no matter the situation, but it’d been a whole year since Bryce died and I didn’t know what else to do. Was it selfish of me? Absolutely, but I knew that Willa would take good care of you and I had to take care of my mental health too.”

Sy sips his whiskey in silence for a moment.

              “Did you get the help that you needed?” Mallory asks, softly.

Sy nods, “It took a few tries, but I did, saw a therapist and anger management counselor. I was cleared for duty about 4 months after you left. Willa picked up the pieces while still grieving herself and everything turned out okay.”

              She gives a small smile, “I’m really glad to hear that Wyatt.”

“What about you? I remember seeing your engagement announcement in the paper a few years back, how that is going?”

              She wets her lips, “Matt and I have been married for 4 years and we have a little girl named Hannah, she’s two.”

Sy gives her a small smile, “And you’re happy?”

              She nods, “Very much so.”

Sy nods once more and Mallory clears her throat.

              “For what it’s worth, I’m deeply sorry that I hurt you Wyatt. You have always been a good man; you were an amazing partner and I hope you find as much joy as I have because you deserve it more than anyone I know.”

A lump forms in Sy’s throat and he swallows it down. “Thanks, Mal, that means a lot.”

              Mallory lifts her drink and tilts it towards him. “To closure?”

Sy nods and lifts his glass of whiskey. “To Closure,” he repeats, clinking it against hers.

              The two of them share a smile and sip their drinks, unaware of the watchful eyes that were lingering in the corner and the shutter of the camera that was drowned out in the din of the bar.

              Mallory sets her drink down and makes a sound of surprise. “I almost forgot!”

Sy watches her open her purse and rummage through it for a moment.

              “I brought this back,” she murmurs, sliding a ring across the bar to him.

The lump returns to Sy’s throat as he closes his fingers over the ring.  “You kept it all this time?”

              “It was your grandmother’s ring, Wyatt. I wouldn’t have just pawned it. I’m not completely heartless,” she murmurs, eyes soft.

“That’s not what I meant; I’m just surprised that’s all.”

              She nods, “I know, I should’ve just left it when I left but I think a part of me thought we might have still had a chance and then by the time I met Matt too much time had gone by without hearing from you and I was just waiting for the right time.”

Sy’s bottom lip quivers, “Thank you, for returning it.”

              She nods, “of course. You need to give that to someone who truly deserves it and you someday.”

He smiles and turns the ring over in his fingers. “I hope I get the chance.”

              She smiles and pats his hand, “You will, Wyatt, I know you will.”

He looks up at meets her eyes. “Thank you.”

              She gives him a genuine smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. “You’re welcome. Don’t be a stranger. Now, I hate to cut this reunion short, but I need to get home to put Hannah to bed, she’s very particular about her bedtime routine,” she mentions with an affectionate chuckle.

Sy feels a wave of jealously rush over him for a moment before he nods. “Alright, have a good night, Mallory.”

              She pulls her purse over her shoulder and smiles, “You too, Wyatt.”

Sy watches her leave and then turns back to the bar to finish off the last of his whiskey before slapping a few bills down on the bar and heading out.

[illyrian-lover-flower]

Crow of hope

Hey @duneska​ I want to wish you a Happy and full of delight filled Birthday, you truly deserve it 😊.

You have become a wonderful friend over the little time I knew you and you just brightened up my whole day with even the littlest message. The conversations we had were always so bright and funny to me, and I just bonded with you over similarities I always believed no one would get.

But I am so glad I was wrong and I was able to form this friendship with you, you were after all one of the persons who brightened up my tumblr experience the most. 

And like I said, you brightened up my day with even the littlest message.

I hope I could also brighten your day a bit and wish you a lot of fun with this piece I’ve written.

It might not be your taste as it is rather angsty at the beginning, but I’ll promise there is a lot of fluff making up for it. Something I also want to apologise in advance for is that it turned out soo long, but when I tried to shorten it - I just wasn’t happy with it. So buckle up and enjoy this fic with a well deserved piece of cake 😊

However, I have brabbled enough - enjoy your Birthday present and your B-day😊

Words: ~8.5k

„Alright, put the daffodils right there – yes, to the Dahlias.” Commanded Elain in a soft voice as fae of all kinds bustled around the grand hall – her voice a drowned-out whisper in all the other murmurs which echoed off the sleek white walls. Bustling skirts, hurried steps, exhausted breaths, and small conversations all around her lithe body, while everyone -female, male, old and young – worked together to make their High Lady proud.

No one knew that it wasn’t their priced High Lady who organized all this; the flowers, the decoration, the cluttery – it was all chosen by Elain, though the main idea really came from Feyre and perhaps that was all that mattered, but right now there was no time to frown at that.

Tables were still in the need to be placed by the walls, so everyone could dance to their hearts content in the middle of the great hall with tapered ceilings, the last bits of food needed preparation and mostly had the decoration to be finished -the colours a special order from Feyre herself when she had approached Elain two weeks ago. Telling her sister in a rushed afternoon, which the seer spent working in her greenhouse, that she would love to have an garland of flowers – rowed in the colours of the rainbow – stretching all over the room.

Considering the fact that the hall was at least thrice the size of the river Estates living room and mid-January – it was a miracle that there were even that many flowers available in Velaris. Many florists had given their last flowers to the charity event of the High Lady, once Elain’s begging voice whispered through their ears, having to close for the next couple of days as they had no other arrangements to put on display, but no one of the shop owners seemed to care.

And honestly, Elain didn’t either -having put the blooming part of her spacious greenhouse to good use – as the last flowers were braided into a river of poinsettias, orange Dahlias, daffodils, Jasmines, light blue Delphiniums and many, many more. If the seer was truly truthful, were it a bit too varying shades of colours to her, as they nearly seemed to jump into one’s eye, but who was she to care. Feyre was the artist who wished to paint this dull hall into a sea of happiness and surely knew what she was doing – hopefully.

Thought Elain while her delicate hands smoothed over the sea of flowers, a coughing fit crawling from her throat the moment all those different smells hit her flaring nose thrills – giving her already a headache – while she ordered for the garland to be pulled up.

“It’s just … magnificent.” Breathed Feyre next to Elain, a swirling cloud of dark chiffon skirts swaying to her feet, as she watched how the rainbow expanded over their heads in a bow, like a real rainbow. “It sure is.” Coughed Elain, while she tried to hide her coughing fit and tearing eyes behind the back of her hand – this was just too much for her nose!

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay till the party starts? You know, my students keep nagging me to bring my pretty sister back to the art lessons.” Mocked her carefree voice the tearing seer, who just shook her head – to more she wasn’t able anyway as Feyre already rushed off to Rhysand, who strode into the grand hall as if it was a catwalk, together with Nyx on his hip. Smiling sadly to herself did the seer shake her head and avoided to gaze at the happy family, safe, together and alive – unlike many other families who had fallen victim to the war.

The cold luring song of death pulling all those warriors and innocent fae away from their loved ones. This evening was for those loved ones, who stayed in the charts and rubble of a past life. This evening was supposed to be  giving them  hope – hope of a healed life as they were to laugh to their hearts content again. And Elain should have been happy for Feyre and Rhys – is happy for them – but somehow this was never all she felt, somehow there was this pinch. Twisting and stabbing her guts whenever she thought of all of the happiness, the freedom – all which she denied herself and did not dare to believe in anymore, as it was taken from her. Her freedom – her choice. Given to a male she nearly did not change a word with and did not even whish to have a bond with as her happiness vanished in the puff of a stary night as a ravenous voice declared to her: ‘It was a mistake.’

Never would she forget those words. Never would she ever be able to hear them from him again -whispered, yelled, breathed, or just told in a voice as cold as a grave – as no matter how, they would always be her end. Always send her heart bleeding in a flood of scarlet red while her eyes cried the river of a thousand seas binding together.

But it was no use- mourning after someone she was not supposed to be with. After all immortality awaited her and right now were the things on her mind far more important than a male – no matter how charming, generous, kind, patient and good looking he was. Elain tried to shake her head at those silly thoughts, her bleeding-heart wandering in a mine of salt with them, as her golden locks flew around her like a spinning skirt of the finest silk twirling under the glimmering lights of a chandelier. Sparkling and sprinkling as if a thousand stars lived in those heavy strands of hair. But those stars would not shine, would not rise as she hurried with silent steps away from the last preparations.

Past a happily laughing Rhys and Feyre as they listened to Nyx blabbering and let her pass without a second glance into the dull hallway.

‘She forgot!’

‘Of course, she forgot!’

Raged her mind while she waltzed over the marble in a barrel of sky blue chiffon skirts; ‘Why would she remember?’ , asked her heart her, this traitorous head of hers silently answering her ‘She has many things swirling in her head right now, she just forgot this year – there are millennia’s to come, don’t be too hard on her.’

Lie! Screamed her shattered heart, as tears dreaded to fall from her doe eyes, waiting like brave sailors at a plank end for the final push of the captain, while her delicate hands gathered the soft material of a dainty blue chiffon. But this last push never came.

The words in her head and memory those of a salt dipped dagger, but she did not cry, did not bend as her cruel heart sang to her, that her sister had not only forgotten this years Birthday, but the one of last year and the one before that and even before that.

Feyre forgot Elain’s birthday for the fourth time in a row and if things were going to continue like they were now, her younger sister would surely wonder in a century, if Elain was truly born or just popped out of a seed on some nameless day. Though Nesta was not of much difference, her number of rows only a three, while her pretendence of knowing her beloved gardener sister hurt just as much as Feyres.

Both seeming to know what was best for her.

Both seeming to know that a rainbow would wait to be spotted in her life – funny thing was just, that instead of letting her watch out for the numerous colours painted in her fate, did those two stand in front of her. Clouding her vision and senses with their good believed thoughts as they were ready to fight for this miraculous happiness of hers with a shield, dagger and sword, and bow and arrow. Never letting anyone past them, as they watched out for her, believing that this suffocating grip they had on her heart was something non-existent.

But they didn’t know that she felt about them this way, after all – Elain never really spoke a word of discomfort to them, never truly. All that spoke for her was her body – lithe a pale swaying from time to time under the glowing sun, whilst her last meal had been days ago. A peaceful sleep seemingly something which mocked her from a century long distance as it escaped her over and over again.

But no one noticed -except for Nuala and Cerridwen, who tried to nurse the delicate fawn silently back to health with heart sweetening friendship and occasional baking lessons, in which they all ate the results after wards.

Though did another name occur in her mind, as she raced through the long, sleek corridors and farther away from the shining stomach of the bustling manor. Grabbing her lilac cloak in a hurried way, while she repeated that same name over and over again in her head. The smile she wore stretching itself impossibly wider on her lips the more often she thought of him and his dazzling smile. Him and his gleaming eyes and sun lightening laughter.

And it were those thoughts which made her rushed walk to her home so much lighter, almost jumping from one step to the other as she hurried past chatting fae on the cobbled street. Only noticing with a distant consciousness that each house she passed grew darker and darker. Colour fading, whilst walls crumbled under the broken roofs.

Her nose didn’t even scrunch up at the rotten smell which wafted through the air, unlike she had done before, because she knew -just knew- that this was a familiar scent. One which would come without suffocating sisters, one which would come without an always smiling gardener but one which would come with a light sweet hearted boy, who lived among greys and browns.

Only a few houses stood crumbled, but proud, under the sinking sun of the night court. Rags and hastily put-up tents dominating the dark paths far in the outskirts of Velaris. Though some did not want to acknowledge that they were still part of this shining city, feeling out of place and unheard, whilst the high fae and lesser fae lived in glorious peace with their High Lord and Lady, who believed to have restored houses and families of their city. The healing of the peoples hearts a process which started long ago. The charity ball of Feyre was a part of this process too.

Her cheery and optimistic self, which also understood the pain and grief of the fae, made them all come together for those in need -mostly for those at the rainbow. Little did one of them know that those who needed the help the most, suffered in silence under ruins, and decayed bodies of their loved ones. Skeletons of delicate fae females, bulky males, Illyrians and even children resting in dreading ivory colour among crumbled walls and roofs.

Fortunately, he was not one of them, luckily, he was brave enough to get a hold of her skirt one fateful day on which she got lost. Mortified by the skeletons, ruins and death singing streets, did her heart nearly leap out of her chest once this little hand brought her to a halt. This traitorous muscle already readying her to meet the empty eye sockets of a dead being. But those eyes glittering and shimmering like a mountain lake at her were pretty much the liveliest she had ever seen. Specks of brown and green swimming in those eyes of his, that one could think they were fishes enjoying the warm presence of him.

Just like Elain would do now, as she reached a small house. A cracked door -rotten and hanging off on one hinge- was all which kept her from seeing him again. Eager to see his blinding smile, did she knock three times: one short and two long, just like she had told him.

“Elain!” squeaked his voice already from the inside, as he hurried to haul the door open. The seer could only smile at the little boy standing in front of her with this dazzling grin – one of his front incisors gone. “Hey Amel! Would you let me in?” “Of course!” beamed the boy and crushed the seer into a warm hug once she closed the door behind her. “What did I miss while I was gone?” spoke her voice softly, once she had picked him up and carried him towards the rag of a couch only a few steps away. His little wings twitching up for the shortest of moments, when she accidentally brushed the base of his wings with a slightly calloused hand. “Nothing much.”, mumbled Amels voice into her shoulder, “though I did miss you. Does that count?” Elain giggled at his hopeful eyes and could only plop his little nose; “Of course it does! I missed you too after all.”

Amel nuzzled into her at those sweet words and enjoyed her warmth like a giant cat, which curled up on the seers chest. Though he did not purr, but did the boy fold his wings neatly back in – almost as if he were ready to fall asleep.

“I have a surprise for you!” spoke up the little Illyrian in a rush, once Elain sat on the slightly mushy pillows of the couch, as if he had just remembered the surprise himself rather than to tell Elain. “And which one is that?” But she did not even receive an answer, as the little Illyrian had long scurried to the kitchenette in the back of the giant room, in which next to the sofa and a kitchenette stood an old table, with two chairs, accompanied by an old cask, which worked as a bathtub and an ancient fireplace. The in grey stone set cleft gaping at her, whilst the heavy stones crumbled, but the important parts of the old fireplace were still intact. The empty blackness reminding her that she had to feed it with wood and light them up in order to have some warmth in the perforated house.

Kneeling in front of the ancient fireplace did she fed log for log and lit the stack of wood with cold shaken fingers up, silently listening how Amel dragged a chair over to the kitchenette and climbed on top of it.

It were mere minutes which the seer had spend here, yet had the sun sunken that low already, that the stars begun their twinkling evening dance atop of their heads – bringing chilly January coldness with them, that let her breath fog. And that was the sign for Elain to start the nightly preparations with a whistling wind around her shaking shoulders, picking up various piles of blankets, while Amel still bustled around in the rotten kitchen cabins.

Blanket after blanket were strained atop of the clumsily, over the holes nailed wood. Blocking out any roaring sound of cold gusts and any light. And whilst the seer put the last blanket over the gaping slit of the broken door, did Amel sit down eagerly on the couch. “Come on, Elain! You are going to miss your surprise!” She smiled then, nailing the last blanket for today against the old wood and strode over towards the young boy with two thick wool blankets in her hand.

Once she sat down on the slightly warmed pillows, did Amel pull something to the front, from behind his back, the happiest smile he ever wore stretched on his thin lips: “Happy Birthday, Elain!” Exclaimed his cheery voice and let her gaze on a plain little muffin, which was topped with a half burned Birthday candle. “You shouldn’t have, Amel.” Whispered the seer as tears welled up in her eyes and hugged him with all her blazing heart.

She had only mentioned the day of her Birthday once, in a bedtime story she told him, and here he was – this young soul, full of happiness despite all his pain, who presented her a sweet little muffin as if it was a great Birthday cake. And it was, for her it was everything she ever asked for. Elain did not need any gowns or jewellery on her Birthday as presents, she just wanted a soul which remembered her.

And Amel was together with Nuala and Cerridwen the only souls which truly remembered her. Perhaps Azriel remembered the date too, but after the Solstice a few weeks ago it was probably clear that he would not wish to speak his congratulations to her, after all – she was a mistake. One he was likely to never do again, as he seemed to avoid her like the plague – only letting her catch one accidental glance at him while he admired the work in her Greenhouse from afar.

“You have to blow out the candle!” cheered Amel. Though did his eyebrows raise once Elain told with a slightly stern voice, that he was the one to eat the muffin. “I already ate lots of cake Amel, one more bite and I’ll explode!” joked the seer, but the Illyrians wings only lowered itself down on the brown pillows “I knew it is not good enough…” “It is, Amel. This is all I could ever ask for and I bet it tastes delicious,” Elain rested her cold hands over those of the little Illyrian, cupping the muffin together with him “but you need to eat more than me. You are still growing.” He nodded at that and let the seer blow out the striped candle.

She did not have a wish then, but after Amel devoured the baked good and went to take a bath with her, did he ask her sleepily “What did you wish for?” Elain tugged the blankets around them impossibly closer, a cocoon of warmth, “I can’t tell you; it won’t come true otherwise.” “Pleaseee…” “Alright.” Chuckled Elain at the Illyrian, whose wet black hair stuck out as if it were hedgehog spikes and leaned down to him: “I wished for your Mama and Papa to come home and that you three live in a cute little hut together.” “Without you?” “I’ll come by to visit – verry often.” spoke Elain once she saw his sad blue eyes, that lit up the moment she announced her regular visits.

It made her smile, when Amel cuddled closer into the pillows of the large couch and into her warm side, his arms and wings sleepily drabbed over her while he tried, even in his sleep, to protect her and hold her close to him. Elain could only draw calming circles over his wet hair, as she too pulled his little body closer. The sad awareness of her lie chuckling behind the sofa leans at her.

She knew that Amels parents were to never return. Their broken bodies one of the first she had found and buried, after she decided to come and help those who needed it. Fae of all kind had helped her burry those which did not survive the Hybern attack and had taken her advice on going into the starlight kissed city. Only this little boy stayed.

She had met him the week after she buried the winged female and in rind covered male, the descriptions he made to her sending chills down her spine as she realized that he was the child of those two lovers. An orphan now – though did he not know it, as he eagerly waited for his parents to come home after their grocery shopping and Elain did not have the heart to tell him of his parents passing. The only thing she had told him, was that they were asleep and that for a verry, verry long time – forever-she had told.

But Amel did not understand the meaning of those words and simply waited for his parents, in their house, to wake up and get him back. Elain couldn’t count the times she had asked the boy to come with her anymore. His reason of stay always the same – “Mama and Papa won’t find me, if I’ll leave.” And so, all she could do was visit him, as often as she could and if one considered that her presence at the river estate was barely acknowledged, did she spend almost all her time here. The only ones which knew about her whereabouts were Nuala and Cerridwen, who occasionally send her with a basket ‘into town’ to get something for them, if Feyre ever asked. Though did the basket never come back filled – it was always empty. The smuggled loaves of bread and wheels of cheese always staying at the little hut together with Amel, who had fallen soundly asleep next to her.

His little snores pulling her under too, whilst wind and darkness raged outside and slowly let the fire die down.

A heavy knock on the door was what pulled them awake. Sleep mused and dry did the Illyrian boy and Elain look at each other and waited for another knock, which followed soon. The seer already wanted to go and check the door herself as Amel only hurried past her, to haul the door open again. Letting her poke the dying ember glimmers in the ashes awake.

And then he just stood there at the door, wings dropped and mouth wide in amazement, did the boy not even shiver when coldness cloaked his in rags covered body. “Who is it, Amel?” shouted Elain from the fireplace, as her eyebrows furrowed together. At this time of day no one had any business to attend here. The worry she felt overtaking her once no one answered her. And as she saw the one standing on the other side of the threshold, did she nearly lose the black fire poker in her hands. Shock, delight, and pain all suddenly exploding and chasing around in her heart.

Amel only took her free hand, once he saw her frozen face – widened eyes and a slightly parted lips. “He looks like the one you always describe in my bedtime stories.” Stated his happy voice in a hushed tone, as if he feared the person at the threshold – chunky as a cupboard – was just a ghost. He was certainly not the only one believing that, as Elain herself could not process the picture in front of her.

Azriel stood there, in flesh and blood, with a heavy breath fogging the air as his murky coat and wind mussed mass of dark hair stood black against the stary night. At first glance one could believe he was one with the darkness, but at second glance one saw the broad shoulders, tugged in wings and tousled hair standing darker than the shadows against the sky. A silhouette painted in the depths of a night blooming sky in one of Feyres paintings.

And he was just that, a painting whose face lit it up in a golden hue with surprise once he saw the little Illyrian hauling the door open with his yet dainty fingers, now clutching to the seers hand. His breath halting the moment he saw her -just like hers had flogged itself away in her chest once she saw his eyes again. Dulled and almost entirely hazel, the specks of grey and green which she had spotted over a year ago, nearly gone as they seemed to hide away from pain and hurt.

“Elain.” Tore her his ravenous voice away from his empty eyes. She felt shocked, to say the least as they were always warm and seemed to sing of companionship and appreciation whenever her gaze wandered into them, but now there was nothing – just a murky sea of hazel, empty and without a feeling. “Can I come in?” “Of course!” chirped Amel before she could even lift her tongue for an answer. Sending the boy a stern look -accompanied by a suppressed smile – when he left her delicate hand and placed his little palm against Azriels large one, dragging a stumbling Shadowsinger into the little hut, as they left the seer to close the door.

Elain could only smile and shake her head, once she saw how the two took their seats on the coach, a strong wind- piercing and shivering- flickered through the rotten walls and send the fire dancing, whilst the seer merely shook at the gust. Hazily closing the door after this howling bite reminded her of the gaping opening in the wall.

“Are you really the Shadowsinger?” whispered Amel at the gigantic male by his side, as if he were afraid to accidently summon an ancient creature. “I am.” Azriel inclided his head, “At your service little lord … .” “Amel.” The Shadowsinger send a rare grin to the boy and repeated his name, which set the Illyrian giggling “But I am no Lord!”

“Really? But I thought you had the heart of one.” Mused Elain as she stepped back to the two again, her arms loaden with wood and those delicate shoulders covered in a sheet of wool. Amel watched her with raised eyebrows feed the fireplace. “How do you know one has the heart of a lord?”

“Well, that’s easy.” Smiled the seer to herself once she sat down with the two curious males. Amel a small curious bundle of wings between her and Azriel – watching her with the same curious stare as the Shadowsinger. “A lord is one of a noble kind, though I do not mean the kind of nobility you are born with. I mean a kind of nobility you grow over time, one which is not defined by money or jewels, but by the weight of the heart and one’s decisions.” Whispered her small voice at him and poked the spot above his heart with a teasing finger. “A lord is -for me- not someone born with the claim of a throne or a higher stance in society, only minding his own business and his alone. A Lord is someone who is kind and generous, with a heart as bright and pure as the sun.” And somehow her gaze wandered over the ash black locks on Amels head and into the curious eyes of the Shadowsinger.

Specks of life and colour returning to these irises in green streaks once her words had settled into his heart. A shy smile stretching on her lips after she had spotted the faint blush in his cheeks, under the glowing light of fire.  

Amel only hummed at the words. “So does that mean I am a Lord?” “To me, yes!” smiled Elain at the boy and wrapped him into the wool blanket beside him. Afraid that the wind which rattled at the planks and blankets would bite into his warmed body. Tucking him away with a careful hand and slowly pushing him down on the spacious couch. “Come on, Amel, it is time for bed.” “But I don’t wanna go to bed! We have a visitor!” Protested the young boy with an uprising of his wings and voice.

Making the Shadowsinger uncomfortable as he was brought into the argument. “I can go … if you need your rest little boy.” The little Illyrian jumped at that – not on the floor to have a temper tantrum – but to the Shadowsinger. His little fingers holding on tightly to Azriels’ neck as he sat in his lap, “No! Please don’t go! It’s nice to have you around!”

“You are certainly the only one who is thinking that.” Grinned Azriel at his head. Somehow laughter and sadness lacing those uplifted corners. Those twisted ties drawing in the seer so much, that she could not prevent those childish words from slipping; “That is not true. I like your company very much.” Only when his head snapped to her, those eyes widened and brimming with green and grey again, did she hear her own words pounding against her ear and nearly punching her heart out of her chest, as she got lost in the forest in his eyes.

Only catching herself once a last crack of wood screamed in the flames, making the burning ember jump out of the chimney and onto the rotten wooden tiles. It had the seer nearly jumping to her feet – pushing the glowing ember back with the heavy fire poker, as if she were stabbing a chicken.

Or a king for that matter, as suddenly not the gleaming heat of the fire covered her hand, but the warmth of freshly spilled blood. Elain shrieked at the sight, eyes wide and mortified did she throw the iron poker in front of the fireplace. Wiping her ash covered hand at those chiffon layers of sky blue.

Azriel was there the moment her back hit the old couch. Setting Amel on the old cushions and picking up the slightly heated fire poker with a careful, scarred, hand.

He took the space beside her the moment his ears heard the Illyrian boy shuffle to lay down, trying to give them at least the imagination of privacy with his back turned to the two fae. “El, are you alright?”

Her heart jumped at her nickname on his tongue. Rolling off of it so easily, as if he had done it a hundred times. “I am fine.” Croaked this silent voice of hers at him. Making her laugh at her ruined try of steadiness. “It’s fine Az, really. Nothing to be worried about.”

He didn’t answer her.

Hearing the lie a mile away even if he were deaf.

But he gave her time to sort herself out and collect all the silent thoughts she did not share with him. The moment she wanted to, his words flowing into hers as they were to interrupt each other’s sentences; “What are you doing here Azriel?” “I wanted to wish you a happy Birthday.”

They looked at each other then, really and for the first time in weeks. Those brown swirls in the seers’ eyes drawing him in, as if he were a child yearning for chocolate. Whilst the seer wandered into those streaks of green in his irises as if they were a mystical forest, she long wished to discover, but never dared to.

It had them still, yet throwing their heads back as laughs, as sweet as the first flowers in spring bloomed from the seer’s mouth. Whilst those frail petals slithered down Azriels spine, had the rich ravenous sound of his laughter goosebumps emitting on the seer’s skin. Amel merely turned around, peeking at the two adults merely sitting inches away from each other. The Shadowsingers wings slightly extended to Elain’s side as content silence wrapped around them as a warming blanket.

Even after weeks of silence did not change a thing of their companionship.

Even after all this time, after all the mistakes, had nothing changed.

There was a bond, buzzing and glowing, as warm as a hearth between them. But something dimmed this radiant glow.

Though it was no shadow which touched this magnificent bond. Enthralled by this golden glow themselves did they sneak around it like curious snakes, watching and gazing, tracing and tickling.

But neither of the two fae acknowledged this bond, this tether between night and day.

And so Amel saw it upon himself to cut through this thick silence, once no one dared to utter a word, not even a heave of a silent breath. “Elain, I am tired. Can you tell me a story, please?” “Of course!” jumped the seer to answer immediately, as she turned to wrap him up. Snuggling onto the couch close to his fragile body, to prevent him from freezing, and put another blanket atop his frame.

It didn’t take long for the boy to nuzzle into the seers side, pressing his rounded ear next to her left ribcage -listening to the thundering sound of her heart. “Do you want to listen too, Shadowsinger?”

“Please, call me Azriel. And only will I stay if your mother is alright with it.” Elain stiffned at that, barely noticeable -at least for Amel- as the little boy merely answered him “Elain is not my Mama – but she is waiting, together with me, for her to come back.”

Dread immediately filled Azriels guts as he saw the almost invisible shake of her head. He was an orphan. Left in the rubble of Hyberns attack.

He had to chock down a small “I am sorry.” For the boy did not yet know of his parents passing. But even though this was a message as dark as a shadow, did he still feel a spark of light inside this black mist, when he remembered how long ago the attack was and Elain was still here to watch and guid him. “Before you ask, Azriel, I don’t want to go into the city. Mama and Papa won’t know where I am if I leave.” Yawned the boy tiredly, surprising the Shadowsinger ever more, as he seemed to have known his next question.

Elain merely smiled at the boy and caressed his back protectively, whispering to no one in particular “I have tried to convince him for months now to come with me into Velaris, or at least a little hut -not a ruin- but this stubborn Illyrian doesn’t even give me a chance to reason with him.” Her gaze shifted then, from a warm fire to a cold batch of earth “But I am already used to that.”

Azriel didn’t know if she meant the incident on solstice, or if she was talking about her lack of choice in general, but he did not dare to pry any further as the shadows whispered of her uneasiness to him.

Amel seemed almost fast asleep in her arms, lulled in by the beat of her heart -how he would have liked to switch places with the little boy – barely noticing anything around him as he carefully got up from the creaking floor. “I better get –“ “Stay.” Interrupted him Elain before his heavy booted feet could even make one tentative step towards the door.

The Shadowsinger was torn between leaving and staying. The High Lords words,as well as his own ringing in his rounded ears. ‘You are to stay away from her.’ ‘It was a mistake.’

Did these words hunt her just as much as they chased him?

Letting him grief and nearly cry out in anger at a love he was denied being with, as his brother -His High Lord- assumed him to be driven by the need of his lusts. But this was by far the furthest thing from reality. He had long admitted to himself, that the taste of the seer on his tongue would send him to heaven and hell all the same.

But what he carved more than any taste of her, was just the feeling of her. The warmth of her lithe body seeping into him, whenever she would hug him. The sound of her voice giggling at one of his dry jokes – whilst her smile brightened up his world. Her smell a perfume of Jasmin he wished to smell for the rest of eternity.

And driven by all that -his hearts carvings- did he give in to the temptation of her company and settled to rest at the other end of the brown couch. One of the woollen blankets Elain had carried before resting atop his massive frame with slight scratches, but they gave him warmth and something other to concentrate on than the seers smell.

„All right. You settled in, Amel?” “Uhmm.” Hummed his young voice at Elain, sleep already drenching from every little sound. It had the seer giggling, whilst the Illyrian only nuzzled into her. Merely peeking an eye open when he had heard nothing of the silent Shadowsinger. Only to see the picture of darkness at the wrong spot.

Elain was sure, that if Feyre, or any other artist was to capture this moment, it would not be the taunt reality with a shy Shadowsinger trying to hide at the other end of the couch. For anyone else it would be death peering down on his next victims. The shadows behind him seemingly lashing and wiping at those preys, whilst the truth was one of shyness. The shadows not knowing what to do with themselves as their master was fully at ease and their presence of needlessness. But the curiosity they harboured, for the story that was to come, made them stay. Shyly settling down by Azriels wings and shoulders as they waited patient as dogs for the seer to begin.

But apparently was Amel not happy with the arrangements. Huffing a loud puff of air at the seer when he had realized the uncomfortable shyness with which Azriel gazed at them. “Azriel, please come here too – I wanna cuddle with you too!” It had the Shadowsinger go stiff as a board, the calm shadows beside him suddenly twitching alive again. But instead of lashing out to protect this cupboard of a male, did they more seem to gather behind his back. As if trying to push him.

“Traitors!” muttered the Shadowsinger under his breath, making the seer giggle ever the softest at his stern gaze into the black void. Amel hadn’t heard this word, which echoed through the seers pointed ear, but was delighted when he saw the dark male standing and gathering his blanket. The fire beside them dancing and seemingly caressing the stern panels of his face and gigantic wings.

Every other kid would have trembled in fear at him. Afraid that those painful eyes would hide a volcano of rage and violence, but Amel knew it better. And Elain couldn’t help as to smile at herself, with the knowledge that this better knowledge of the boy was her fault – telling him every night a tale of the Shadowsinger, which she herself heard from Nuala and Cerridwen.

“Scoot over.” Ordered Amel with the try to push the seer at the sofa lean. Even though the seating was rather large considered to regular couches, it still was not enough to fit all three next to each other.

Azriel already wanted to see it as a cue to finally go. A sigh of relief, but also exhaustion flooding him, as his heart yearned for the company of the seer. But also was afraid to come too close to her. Hurting her perhaps. He didn’t wanted to do that.

To his relief or unluck, he wasn’t sure, grabbed the seven year old his tainted hand and pushed him into the space next to Elain.

The seer, as well as the Shadowsinger, gazed at each other in a moment of surprise. Their widened eyes searching the company of each other as Azriels wings twitched beneath him, adjusting ever the slightest to his new form of rest -trying to make them some space.

But as it turned out was the only option to let Elain slightly lean up and let the wing pass under her. Cradling this lithe body of hers, while Amel crawled on the males chest and snuggled between the two. His own wings a warm cocoon around him. “Comfortable?” asked Azriel the boy and had his heart leaping in his chest at the bright smile the boy offered him. Hugging him close as if he were not a monster, as if he were not covered in the blood of hundreds and hundreds, but as if he were a male like everyone else. With a heart and a life and a mind which could make generous decisions.

It was the case that he did, but right now, even this moment seemed too innocent to weigh against all the bad decisions he made. Sensing his discomfort snaked the seer an arm around the little Illyrian between them, and let her palm silently rest on his drumming heart. She felt every nervous pump of blood on her skin, yet she merely smiled and tugged the blankets -which were shortly discarded- up to cover all three of them.

The fire still crackling happily in its pit. Whilst those three souls lay in comfort there.

It was the physically closest they had ever been. Even with Amel between them could the seer not say were his heaving chest ended and her calming hand started, connecting them as if he were a vibrant tree sprouting out of her calming earth. Somehow this coaxed a smile out of her and using the situation shamelessly by snuggling even closer.

But it did not like as if Azriel minded, as his scarred hand grabbed a hold of her waist. Steadily keeping her against him.

“Ready for your story?” whispered Elain in the warmth before the fire. “Yes!” declared the boy and too, snuggled closer to the Shadowsinger. In whose chest seemed to bloom a flower of happiness, nurtured by the appreciation, patience and love of those two in his arms.

Elain merely smiled and started a tale which the quiet Shadowsinger was to remember even in the passage of centuries.

“Once upon a time, there lived a princess. She was of utter beauty and kindness, pure and entirely unstained. Something her two sisters wanted to prevent from ever happening, as they searched the truest, kindest and sweetest soul for her sister to marry. Promising her hand to him at a time she had not even met this mysterious man. The bubble of solitude and guarded safety her sisters kept her in, stifling her chances of ever getting to know him before their wedding was to happen. Promising her forever to the hand of a stranger, who did not even own her trust.” Azriel noticed, that during sometime at her telling – had slipped a sting of pain in those normally bright shining eyes. But Azriel assumed to know why this was the case, her fingers starting to rub unconscious circles over his heart – chanting searing circles through his burning skin as his heart thundered and pumped in response at them. At even the softest of flame rings did this beating muscle in his heart not miss a chance to capture this circle.

And then she whispered again -at the night, at Amel, at him or at the fire, he wasn’t sure. “But this marriage was a trap. Not for the lovely sister, but for the poor man -who would spend his entire life in the fear of losing his wife to a so believed demon inside of her. This creature inside of her -so it was told- capturing her and leaving her eyes in a mist of grey whenever he was to talk to her. “

“Her sisters had worried for their beloved, lovely sister ever more with the passing years, as this haze of grey seemingly hunted her day and night. Fearing that this beast might kill her, had they locked her up, far, far into a tower with barred windows. Her entire freedom taken away from her, when her sisters had sent a guard to watch over her.” Elain chuckled, and sneaked a glance at the Shadowsinger, who cradled the tired Illyrian, as if her were worth an entire court. “At first, she believed him to be a statue, one created without emotions displayed on his looming face. But over the time she got to spend with him – she saw it was actually a massive cauldron brewing beneath his bronze skin. Mixing happiness, kindness, gratitude, sadness, anger and so much more into one pot that he just didn’t know how to express them.”

“But over time -even when those hazy moments possessed her- did they grow to know each other. Finding more similarities in the other than it was ever believed of a guard and a princess to have. Her sisters however were blind to the obvious trust between the guard and their sister and kept the engagement to the other man. It was when she first saw the male, so in contrast to the guard who had her trust, that this demon overtook her. Not just her eyes, but also her mouth. Speaking of a riddle which was to occupy the entire Kingdome of the princess for years: ‘The one with the deepest of values, shall be able to set her free – the one of the greatest of powers. The one having fate at her hand, a two-sided blade -one old and one new- wielding at her will. A mist of grey laying ahead of her eyes, whilst the path behind her, shall be paved forever more. The stone to rest, one which she can’t move.’ “

Her eyes glazed over at that – when her voice talked almost sacredly about those prophecies – as if she were in a memory only months away. Absently starting to trace Amels ash black curls with a tentative finger. His deep snore vibrating through the Shadowsingers chest as both watched in trance the rise of his little body. When she realized that Amel had long gone into the depths of sleep, she withdrew her hand, closing her eyes for the rest of slumber. That was until the Shadowsinger asked, a careful edge lacing his voice, “Could you please continue? I wanna know the answer to the riddle.”

Her eyes snapped woken at that, a shy smile stretching her lips, before she used the hand to cradle the felty matt of Amels hair, to caress his lightly stubbled cheek “I assume you already know the answer, Shadowsinger.” “Still. Please.” He wanted to hear her voice just for a little longer. Wanted to enjoy her embrace as long as he could – savouring every searing fingerprint of her on his skin.

Elain did not argue father than that, simply letting her words lull him in again; “Her sisters believed, that the one who had the deepest of value, was the betrothed of their beloved sister. Claiming that her love was his. But to their disappointment had he no clue, no answer with could free the lovely princess from her haze. And so, she stayed locked up, in the tower and murky depths of grey, her hand free to take – as the sisters saw that the man they chose, was a choice for another princess. The riddle, which was spoken, carried near and far. Surprisingly, luring a lot of man into the trance of the cursed princess, so it was said. “

“Her beauty had man forget the oddity ,this curse seemed to be, and made them simply wish to take her hand with the freeing of her haze. And yet, determined they all were, no one had the ability to free her from those murky grey depths. The only soul loyal by her side -unafraid- was the devoted guard by her side. Watching and protecting her like the human she was before. “

“Year went by, beforethe guard got fed up with presenting the princess constantly as if she were an animal in the zoo. A mere attraction, not a living being. The guard had heard the riddle so many times, he himself was able to recite it as if it were his own words, yet it took time too, for him to realize the meanings of the words.”

Elains brown orbs gazed deep into his then, a bright smile seemingly lightening each freckle and trace of colour in her eyes, when she recited the words he once declared “A seer. That was what the guard had told. Freeing the princess from the grey murky depths of future and past with two simple words. Spoken as if they weighed nothing. But the world rose at that day, colour, smells and feelings returning to the princess. The cry of happiness was roaring through the entire castle, as the two sisters wanted to hug their beloved sister, though had she heard nothing of that. Running past her extended arms and down the pedestal on which they kept her. Jumping right into the guards’ arms and clinging to him, as if he were her air.”

“Is that what you would have liked to do?” grinned the Shadowsinger. The tenseness of his shoulders -of his entire being- seemingly vanished into thin air within this stolen moment. Elain blushed a little, but nodded nonetheless – snuggling a bit closer to his warmth and body – whilst his wings drew in tighter and tighter around the three. As if they were the boundary between the world and their peace. “If Lucien wouldn’t have been there -as well as my sisters- I would have done so. I would have weeped into your arms out of joy.” Admitted Elain with crimson cheeks. But Azriel merely pulled her tighter with the hand around her hip.

A silent understanding that he, too, would have liked to change this moment now. But the past is paved and set in stone – no matter how many mistakes one might have done, they could only change the future. And Azriel knew the moment a loud snore left Amels lungs, that he wanted a future where this was not a stolen moment – where this was their life. And one in which this would not be a ruin, but their home.

Their home.

How he liked that sound. Making him feel all fuzzy and warms as he imagined it, not even the cold reality of the story able to catch up to him. He was with Elain in her embrace he could dream – he always did. It should have been a warning- that his mentality had went from cautious and professional to this cotton candy sprinkled mind of happiness and without boundaries – but he would take the consequences for that on another day, in another setting.

“Where did you even know from where I was?” whispered Elain into the dimming light. “I didn’t. The shadows had guided me.” And as if on queue flickered a whisper of darkness over her cheek, caressing her, as if they were a ribbon of silk. Fluttering briefly over the snoring Illyrian between them too.

“They seem to like you and him.” “I like them too.” Smiled the seer. “They are you after all.”

Azriels heart nearly burst at this as blinked away the prickling sensation in his eyes. Never, not in 500 years, had one spoken of him and his shadows like this. Never had he felt those words more than now as he was on an emotionl edge.  Torn between his High Lords command and the calming presence of this beloved female. But as she hugged him impossibly closer, he knew that he no longer was torn – that he no longer had to fight against a wish he wanted fulfilled.

Azriel was sure that he wanted Elain, courts and everything be damned, as he only hugged her closer too. She and Amel, right now the only ones which counted to him. And he was ready to die for them – if Lucien or Beron insisted on the blood duel.

“I am sorry I haven’t gotten you a Birthday gift, El.” Exclaimed his strained voice suddenly, when he noticed the seers eyes glaze over with tiredness – believing that she could not answer him anymore.

“It’s alright Az, your company is gift enough.”

And it was in that moment, when silence and sleep rested on the wind’s breath, that he didn’t know if it was the seers Birthday or his. As this was the greatest present he ever received.

*

*

*

The wind sored loudly around them, as a curtain of honey whipped in front of his face -the seer having once again not listened into braiding her hair- clouding his vision on the small hut. “We are almost home!” yelled Amels voice next to the two. His yet delicate wings carrying him carefully on the gusts of wind, as if they were lifting him up into the arms.

Azriel and Elain merely smiled, once they saw the little hut. Hidden away into a garden of wildflowers and trees, as Elain had planted them there. Around their home. Around their secret.

It was yet a story to be told to their family, of how the crow -how Azriel translated Amels name to her- had connected death and the fawn. Letting them soar high into the sky in the arms of each other. Away from responsibilitys and fate.

They knew it would all come to an end eventually -spilling the secret – but until then they had this.

A life full of sunshine, yet covered in the shadows, as they flew further and further to the wooden hut. The sun guiding them their path with a shining smile.

Whilst the Seer and the Shadowsinger could only smile as bright as the rise of a new day, “Yes, Amel, we are almost home!”

__________________________________

Taglist (contact me if you want to be added or removed):

@gracie-rosee

@heirofthrnightcourt004​

@galenamineralsbismuth​

[calciumcryptid]

Welcome to a new series where I, CalciumCryptid, talk about original characters of mine that are unaffiliated with any fandoms. These characters are a part of my private universes that I intend to turn into books one day.

I decided to do this because I have so many characters that I want to talk about, but are also not affiliated with any fandoms I am in. I also hope by sharing these characters I can get some feedback about these characters.

Now strap in, this first one is a doozy.

Alicia Broken, or better known as the Staris Petal's Gaurdian of the Stars: Osprey. (Civilian Name Unofficial) She is the number one hero in the Staris Petal of the Floret Continent.

The History of Osprey

The majority of Alicia's early life is still undetermined as it isn't really needed for the narrative at large; however, she did attend Staris Academy to become a hero.

There, she excelled as she was academically gifted and the enhanced abilities given to her by her gene allowed her to excell in the practical feild.

She was at the top of her game, and was mighty popular because of it attracting a lot of friends and romantic interest in her. There were also a lot of professional heroes who wanted her to come to their agencies once she graduated.

She continued to study at Staris Academy, and in time started to reciprocate one of her classmates feelings for her. This classmate was Felix Brown, also known as Wolverine Hero: Mustel.

Unfortunately, Felix Brown was not romantically interested in her instead wanted to use her to fuel his own agenda.

You see, Felix was secretly a member of the villain organization the Dark Clan who worked to take over the Staris Petal. The Dark Clan was having recruitment issues so Felix built a plan.

Felix Brown knew his gene was one of the strongest mutant genes in the entire continent, and he knew that Alicia's mutant gene strength rivaled and surpassed his own.

If she had a child born from both their DNA, the kid would be an unstoppable hybrid solider and could singlehandedly take over the Staris Petal.

His intention was to leave Alicia to incubate the child, and he would return to steal him and raise him with the Dark Clan to be a living weapon.

After Alicia and Felix graduated, Felix immediately proposed and the two eloped. After a few months, they slept together and eventually Felix left. There was no note, no clues to his location, he just left.

Alicia was left alone, and later found out she was pregnant with his seed much to her chagrin. Before her hero career had the chance to get off the ground, she had been caged away.

After reuniting with her best friend from Staris Academy, Fern Brennan, Alicia basically said fuck this shit and made sure to retain the part of life she had been able to build for herself.

After giving birth to her son, Griffin Broken, Alicia immediately got back into the hero industry through dinner fabulous networking skills and got a job at the top hero agency in the petal.

Upon receiving her new job, she moved in with Fern and the two essentially co-parented Griffin in his younger years. Eventually, Alicia's life got back on track, and during that time she and Fern started dating (much to Fern's amazement because she had a crush on Alicia since their school days) and eventually married after the government saw Alicia's divorce plea.

Although, as you can probably guess, Felix Brown came to fetch what was his.

One night, Alicia was out in night patrol when she noticed a figure breaking into her apartment and investigated just to find her ex-husband trying to snatch her child away.

Alicia blocked all exits with her huge wings, and Felix Brown realized that a simple collection mission had escalated. The two conversed about what had happened through the years, where Felix revealed his true intentions.

Alicia, who had already went to therapy over his bullshit and found someone she truly loved, was not taken aback from this news and demanded to have her child back.

Felix Brown refused, saying Griffin was his child as well only for Alicia to tell him they were divorced in the eyes of the law and how he was not there to cosign his birth certificate so he was legally not Griffin's father and Alicia could sue him for attempted kidnapping.

Felix set Griffin down, and promptly launched himself at Alicia knocking her out the window. The two engaged in a fight that went down in history as to the populace of Staris this was a fight against a rising star and one of the most high profile members of the Dark Clan.

The battle ended with Alicia killing Felix in cold blood, but she had been absolutely mauled. She was rushed to the hospital where she was given twenty-four hour treatment to try to save what was left of her body. In the end, she lost her right side limbs meaning she lost an arm (which also serves as her wings), an eye, and a leg.

The first thing she said to her agency when they came by to serve her retirement papers 'fuck you'.

During her time in the hospital, her popularity had skyrocketed and the citizens were outraged her agency tried to force her to retire. Alicia's words in the hospital got out which boosted her popularity even more so.

Alicia quit to open her own agency, and was given an anonymous donation to pay for her new prosthetics. She emerged and started to go on patrols once more gaining the title of Gaurdian of the Stars and making Broken a household name.

Currently, Alicia is mentoring Cynthia Rosewell to take over her title one day while helping her son through Staris Academy. She has yet to lose her title of number one hero in Staris.

Relationships

Fern Brennan / Fern Broken

The longtime friend of Alicia Broken from her Staris Academy years, and was a key pillar of support for Alicia after Felix dissapeared. She had a crush on Alicia, but put it aside for the sake of her friends happiness with Felix Brown. After the two reunited Fern's crush was rekindled, but this time was reciprocated. Fern is now Alicia's wife, and the step-mother of Alicia's son Griffin Broken.

Griffin Broken

The son of Alicia Broken and Felix Brown, originally intended to conquer the Staris Petal of a whole. He is currently attending Staris Academy like his mother did. He is unaware of who his father is and what that means for him.

Cynthia Rosewell

Griffin's best friend and the personal student of Alicia Broken. Griffin and her became close friends after she called him out on his mopey bullshit, and later was scouted by his mother to one day take on the title of Gaurdian of the Stars. She is currently attending Staris Academy alongside Griffin Broken.

Raia Streke

Alicia Broken's old classmate who is known for being a bit mad in the head. She now works for the central government, and was the anonymous donor who paid for Alicia's prosthetics.

Felix Brown (Deceased)

Felix Brown was Alicia's ex-husband and a high ranked member of the Dark Clan. He used Alicia to create a living weapon, only to be killed the night he went to claim him.

Genetic Mutation

Avian Physiology (Raptor Variation)

The host has the appearance and abilities of birds.

Raptor Variation dictates that the host has the avian physiology of a bird of prey. In this case, the host is a Pandionidae.

Gene Applications

Natural Defenses: Beak & Talon Protrusion

Enhanced Abilities: Agility, Balance, Endurance, Lung Capacity, Reflexes, Senses, Speed, Strength, and Vision

Predator Instinct: The host possesses predatory instincts, allowing them to become masters of assassinating, hunting, manipulating, planning and tracking. At perfection, this allows the host to sense what will happen and how adapt to it.

Trivia

Alicia's real life origins is African (Botswana).

Alicia is bisexual.

Alicia's last name is a reference to her very original form being a warr¡or cat oc by the name of Brokenfeather.

Taglist

@pizzolisnacks @insomniac-jay @floof-ghostie

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Banished (Part 50)

~Banished Master~

Word Count: 8K (It’s so small compared to my other chapters lmfao)

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x05 of the 100, The Tinder Box

*Bold Italics are in Trig!*

Previously...

Helios walked the waterfront, taking his time after he had left Octavia. The water flowed right past him as he walked on the beach. He kept walking, drinking some of the moving water before finding Octavia’s body washed up on the shore. He nudged his muzzle against her bloodied hand, over and over until finally Octavia turned over her hand and let Helios lick her fingers.

Her breathing was raspy and painful as she picked her head up and Helios back away. She took as deep of a breath as she could and began crawling out of the water, groaning from the pain in her stomach and from the fall. “Helios.” She groaned and grabbed onto the stirrup, using it to pull herself up until she could pull herself onto the saddle completely. She had thrown herself over, falling forward onto the horse. “Home, Helios.” She mumbled, barely able to form the sentence. The horse started moving, heading in the direction to Arkadia while Octavia held on as tight as she could. “Take me home.”

---

The hope that replicating Nightblood on Becca’s island would be easy wasn’t as achievable as Abby, Jackson, and Raven had wanted. The doctors were looking at Luna’s blood and the Nightblood cells under a microscope as Raven worked with planning for the radiation. She asked the computer to show her everything Becca had on radiation detection using the drones.

Jackson was looking on a computer of his own, scrolling through anything and everything Becca had. “God, Becca was good.” He told Abby, shaking his head fondly at the skills of the scientist. “Nightblood was designed to help the human body not reject the AI and protect it against radiation emitted from the device. That’s why it saved Luna.”

“That’s why it will save us all, if we can figure out how she made these cells combine.” Abby said, as she looked through the microscope.

Jackson put a frown on his face as he looked through more of the files. “It looks like Becca was experimenting with perfluorochemicals, oxygenators, the building block of artificial blood.”

“I know what they are, Jackson.” Abby told the younger man when she pulled away from her work. “I’m just not seeing that here.”

“Abby, what if we came all this way for nothing? What if we can’t figure it out?” Jackson asked the one question they couldn’t afford to think about.

“We can do this. We know that Becca figured this out and Luna’s proof of that. If it’s not in the database, we can reverse-engineer it from Luna’s blood.” Abby assured him. Raven sat in the lower level of the lab, overhearing Abby and Jackson’s conversation as she read over the radiation information. She turned to look at up at the pair, about to speak up before a ringing went through her head. She clutched her temple in pain as her headache intensified. “I need a new sample. Where’s Luna?” Abby asked completely unaware of Raven’s predicament.

“She’s sleeping and we should let her. Her body needs time-“

“We don’t have time!” Abby snapped at him. Jackson sighed as he pushed himself up and started out of the room to get Luna. “Wait. You’re right, I’m sorry.” Abby called to him, realizing she was being a little harsh.

Raven was only getting worse as both of the adults talked. Her headache was disappearing, but something new was happening. She was floating

She gasped as she floated higher and higher, doing a flip in the air and she listened to Abby and Jackson talk. “According to this record, Becca first developed Nightblood for the Eligius Mining Company.”

“Mining?”

Jackson nodded. “Long duration space missions. Criminals were put in hyper-sleep and given Nightblood to protect against solar radiation.”

“Nice of her to share that with our ancestors on the Ark.” Abby grumbled as she looked at the Nightblood cells. Raven was floating closer to them, holding to bars to steady herself before coming in front of Abby. “I don’t understand. The Nightblood protein chains are broken, how did she get them to bind to the blood cells?”

Jackson smirked at her. “I thought you hated molecular biology.” Their playful banter was broken as Raven started gasping with her seat, not from where she thought she was floating. Abby and Jackson rushed to her side.

“She’s seizing!” Abby shouted at Jackson before they picked her up and moved her to the ground. Abby cradled Raven’s head in her arms. “I have a Reaper stick in my bag. Get it. Hurry!” She yelled at Jackson and the man took off sprinting to Abby’s bag. He found the stick as quick as he could as Abby comforted Raven. He handed the stick to her and Abby, not wasting a moment, stabbed her in the neck with it.

Her seizing stopped and she fell limp into Abby’s arms, blood falling from her mouth as Abby and Jackson shared worried and confused looks.

---

Octavia hung onto Helios for dear life as he led her through the forest back to Arkadia. Her moans were filling the air as she tried to support herself. Eyes fluttering close, the task of staying a top the horse proved impossible in her condition. She slipped off the horse, landing on the ground with little movement. Her body, covered in her own blood, ached as she laid there.

Helios neighed loudly, catching the attention of Ilian who was walking through the forest. He approached the scene slowly, hovering over Octavia who was struggling to see him. He smiled at her before she passed out.

---

Since the threat of Praimfaya, Niylah had been drying the meat the hunters been collecting for the end of the world. She held the sack of dried meat, as Monty put 2 jugs of moonshine in her cart. “This is the last batch of moonshine.” He told her as he took the meat from her. He weighed it in his hands before his brows pulled together. “Feels a little light.”

“Your hunters are slipping. I can only dry what they bring me.” Monty gave her a smile and a nod a gratitude before walking away, not getting far before Clarke was in front of him.

“Hey, any word from Jaha? Did they find Bellamy’s unit?”

He nodded at her and Clarke’s eyes brightened. “Yeah, they’re back and we forgot to tell you.” Her face fell as Monty moved past her, obviously still very mad at Clarke about the list.

Niylah had smiled when Clarke turned to looked at her. “Hello, my friend.”

Clarke wore a defeated smile as she embraced Niylah. “Hi. How light were we?” Clarke asked as she gestured to the cart next to her.

Niylah chuckled. “Always so serious.” Clarke tried to smile, only for it to fall flat. “Better. Don’t worry. The earth will be more generous next time. See you then.” Niylah squeezed Clarkes arm before heading away, but Clarke stopped her.

“Hey wait!” She called out, getting Niylah to look at her again. “Did you charge the radio that I gave you when you were here?”

Niylah looked at her in confusion. “Yes, like you told me to.”

Clarke nodded and bit her lip. “Good.”

“Clarke!” Clarke’s eyes shot passed Niylah at the sound of her name. At the entrance to the Hangar bay, Harper was running inside, looking for Clarke. Next to her was a man carrying who Clarke figured out to be an unconscious Octavia covered in blood.

“Octavia?”

“She just stopped breathing.” Harper rushed out as Clarke got closer, moving to a table covered in supplies.

“Okay, put her on the table!” Clarke yelled to Ilian as she started pushing the tubes and things onto the ground and Harper helped her, providing Ilian a space to put Octavia on.

“She has a stab wound on her belly. She’s soaked in blood.”

Clarke nodded, beginning chest compressions on Octavia as she spoke to Ilian. “Who are you? How did this happen?”

“Ilian kom Trishanakru. I was on my way home from Polis when I found her.” Clarke stopped her compressions, beginning mouth to mouth on her friend. She repeated her actions, listening for a breath from Octavia and soon, one came.

Octavia started coughing as she gained consciousness, her eyes glossing over the room in a daze as Clarke sighed. “Get her to medical now.” She told Monty who nodded and took off towards the medbay. Ilian stood watching before Clarke looked to him again. “Getting her here saved her life.” She told him. “Thank you.” Ilian nodded, knowing his intentions were less than worthy of thanks. Octavia started stirring as Clarke stopped her. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She promised her. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, but you’re home now. I’m going to help you.”

Monty came running back in, this time with you by his side since he found you on his way back carrying a stretcher. He didn’t tell you anything, only to follow him. Seeing Octavia on the table was a shock to you. “Octavia?” you almost yelled out, running the rest of the distance to stand next to her. You grabbed her hand and looked down at her injury.

“Azgeda’s coming?” Octavia’s voice was raspy as she whispered.

Your eyes shot up to Clarke, both of you sharing confused looks as Monty, grabbed your arm, getting your attention on him. “What’s she talking about?” He asked and you shook your head, just in the dark as he was.

“Azgeda is coming. Army, marching.” Her words were mumbles now as you squeezed her hand. As she started to lose unconscious again, Clarke tried to get her attention again, tapping her cheeks. “War is here.”

“Okay, here take her.” You stepped aside as Clarke, Monty, Harper, and Niylah moved Octavia onto the stretcher. “Stary an I.V., blood and fluids, and get a suture kit ready.” You turned around, seeing ilian standing there.

“Who the hell are you?” you asked him. Ilian introduced himself again and you just furrowed your brows.

“He brought in Octavia.” Clarke told you as she put a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t say anything, just sending Ilian another look before allowing Clarke to pull you and Monty away. “Get Kane on the radio. Find out exactly what’s going on.” Monty took off to call Kane and while you were worried about getting in contact with Kane, you just watched Octavia being moved. “Y/N.” Clarke shook your shoulders as you nodded and finally followed Monty out of the room. Clarke moved onto Harper, needing to get her attention as well. “Convene the guard. Miller’s guard is ranking officer. If Azgeda is coming, we need to plan our defense. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Harper nodded and left to speak to David Miller. Clarke took a deep breath and called Niylah to help her and the duo set off.

Ilian stood alone, right where you all left him. He looked around slowly, seeing the machines, seals and computers all around him. This would be his chance for revenge.

---

You crowded inside the Chancellors office, staying back against the wall as the important people talked. Sgt Miller was pointing at the blueprints on the table, planning defenses with the rest of the guard. Their plan seemed solid, but that was hoping it was the last resort. Clarke came into the room, seeing everyone at work. Harper stopped her before she got far.

“How is she?” She questioned Clarke who offered a smile.

“Strong.” The conversation went on with David and Riley speak about their plan to use the ship and blow Azgeda to pieces.

“You want to light a fire outside a ship we just spent the last month getting ready?” Monty asked, voicing all the thoughts going through everyone’s heads.

“That’s not happening.” Clarke stopped the conversation. Destroying the ship was not an option. “Any word from Kane?”

Monty shook his head, his face falling slightly. “No, but Jaha found the cargo truck a few hours out, no sign of Bellamy or Stephens.”

Her head almost shot to you, seeing how your eyes were locked on the floor, obviously having already received the news that neither Bellamy or Kane were alright. You took a deep breath, ignoring the thoughts in your head as you spoke up. “I have to talk to Roan. Azgeda wouldn’t attack unless something happened. There’s got to be some sort of misunderstanding.”

“Y/N, if he wanted to talk, he wouldn’t be bringing his army.” Harper said and you pushed yourself off he wall.

“I’ll ride out to meet him.” You told Clarke, knowing she was running things.

Clarke sighed, clenching her jaw. “Would he even talk to you?”

You paused. You had no clue if he would, before this, Roan trusted you. Now?... “I’ll make him.”

“No. Absolutely not.” David butted in, believing this idea preposterous.

“Actually, it might work.” Monty spoke up and surprising you, he took your side. “The Ice Nation thinks they have the element of surprise, but thanks to Octavia, we do. Pike showed how valuable that could be.”

“You’re citing Pike?” Harper asked shocked and Monty exhaled deeply.

“As awful as it sounds, yes.”

You nodded and looked to Clarke again. “You should stay here and watch over Octavia, but I’m going. He’s going to talk whether he wants to or not.”

---

Azgeda made way towards Arkadia, Roan and Echo standing front as their army walked behind them. They had been making great progress walking all morning. They weren’t far from Arkadia as they marched between two cliffs, stopping in their tracks as they looked ahead, seeing you stand in their way.

“They knew we were coming.” Roan mumbled to Echo, both of them staring at you.

“There’s no way Octavia survived my blade or that fall.” Echo assured her king.

You took a deep breath as you watched Roan send Echo a glare. “We need to talk!” you shouted at him.

“Little late for that.” He told you and you felt your chances slipping.

“Are we not friends, Roan?”

“Friends don’t keep secrets. Archers!” He yelled to his people. “Target Skaikiler!”

No sooner than he said the words did almost a quarter of his people aim their arrows at you. You didn’t move. Instead you quirked your brow and glanced up to Monty, perch on the cliff above you. The Soldiers on the cliff began aiming themselves, their target being the King.

“My King…” Echo mumbled, getting Roan to look down at himself to see the green lasers on him before following to see the masses of your people with guns from all around him.

Monty moved his radio to his mouth. “Okay, we’ve got their attention.”

“Remember, no one fires unless fired upon.” David added onto Monty’s words. “The radiation’s our enemy, not the Ice Nation.”

Roan nodded to Echo. “Bring the prisoners.” Echo ordered. You furrowed your brows, watching as two hooded people were brought forward. Your heart thumped out of your chest as they were forced to their knees.

Their hoods were ripped off and you couldn’t breathe as you looked at Kane and Bellamy, two of the most important people in your lives, being held hostage. Their fates were in your hands. “Kane. Bellamy!” you shouted. You wanted to move closer, but Ice Nation might consider that an attack.

Both of the men looked at you, Bellamy’s eyes still wet from crying about his sister and he couldn’t help but get choked up at you standing in front of him. He lost one of you, he couldn’t loss the other.

“Your move, Skaikiller.”

“10 minutes. I just want 10 minutes to talk.” You told him, but your eyes never stopped staring at Bellamy and Kane, both with swords to their necks. Roan scoffed before climbing off his horse. He was accepting.

You turned around, feeling your breathing shake as soon as you were clear from their eyes and you walked away from the army. “Where’s she going? What if it’s a trap?” Echo asked Roan who scowled at you who was still moving away.

“It is a trap. We’re already in it.”

David instructed the shooters to let the King go with you and remove their targets, and all did, except for one. “Wait, who’s still targeting?

Monty looked through the scope of his gun, following the last shooter to see it was Riley. “Damn it, what are you doing Riley? Your target is the army. Y/N is negotiating with their King. Stop targeting.” Riley didn’t stop. “Riley, respond.”

He picked up his radio, holding it tight as he spoke. “Negotiating with these people is a waste of time. We have the high ground and the guns. We should just take them out.”

“Negative. We stick to the plan.”

“You really think Ice Nation gives a damn about your plan? I have a clear shot on the King.”

“This a tinder box. One shot and we’re at war. If you do this, it will be a massacre. You need to stand down now.” Riley had adjusted his view, getting a better shot at Roan as Monty spoke and his hand shook. “Riley!” Riley let his view fall, the target on Roan disappearing as he let out a shaky breath.

“He shouldn’t be here.” Harper told Monty who nodded. “Not after what they did to him.”

As soon as Riley target was off Roan, Echo turned to the army. “The King is clear. Archers, the first gunshot you hear, loose your arrows. Infantry, on my command, scatter, climb, and kill till there’s no one left.”

“This insane!” Kane stopped her with the hope you’d be able to convince Roan. “They knew you were coming. We have thousands of rounds. You’ll be the ones with no one left!”

“Then let’s hope no one shoots.” She said.

Bellamy hadn’t looked away from where you had disappeared, only did Kane’s words pull him to a realization he hoped more than anything to be true. He looked at Kane out of the corner of his eye, the man knowing something was on Bellamy’s mind. “What is it?” He asked, hoping it wasn’t something about your safety.

Bellamy swallowed thickly, keeping his voice low. “They thought they had the element of surprise, but we did.” He tried not to smile, the hope evident in his face and voice. “Someone warned them.”

Kane caught on. “Octavia?”

“She’s alive.”

---

Octavia had been laying in medical since she arrived back in Arkadia. Her eyes started opening slowly, the lights blurring her sight until she was able to see Niylah standing above her. Niylah had just started washing the blood off Octavia’s face, taking over for Clarke who was called out to help someone. Octavia was slowly becoming more aware of her surroundings as she remembered why she was here.

“I have to warn them.” She gasped out. She started to get up but Niylah held her back.

“You did.” Niylah assured her. “Skaikru soldiers went to meet Roan’s army.

Octavia breathed heavily, holding her side where Echo stabbed her. “How did I get here?”

“A man brought you. Trishanakru.” Niylah began wiping her face again. “If he hadn’t have found you-“

“Ilian.” Octavia’s eyes were wide.  

Ilian walked through the halls of Arkadia, no one stopping him. In a wheelbarrow behind him, he pulled along a mixture of flammable liquids as he followed the vents and tubes in the halls, ready for his revenge on Arkadia.

---

After Raven’s seizure, Abby and Jackson had put her on a bed as she laid unconscious. Abby had been taking care of her for the last few hours, constantly worrying until Raven slowly started to come to.

“Abby?” Raven breathed out, in a trance as she looked up at Abby above her. “Abby, something happened.”

Abby was gentle as she ran her hand down Raven’s cheek to comfort her. “Raven, you had a seizure.” Abby told her and Raven’s face slowly fell.  “We need to do a brain scan.” She looked to Jackson, seeing him still working. “Jackson, she’s awake.”

“Seizure?” Raven asked, getting Abby’s attention. “No. That can’t-“ She pushed herself off the bed despite Abby and Jackson’s protests. “It was like my brain was operating with such… such intensity.” Abby and Jackson looked at each other as Raven moved about the room, remembering her time in the air. “It was so real, like I was space-walking again, zero G with no suit.” She turned to Abby and Jackson, seeing their faces as her spirit deflated. “I’m not crazy.”

“No one thinks you are.” Abby told her.

Raven thought about her experience, her mind racing ten times its normal speed. “Weightlessness.” She breathed out. “Abby, what happened when you tried to get the Nightblood protein to bond with Luna’s DNA?”

Abby knotted her brows. “The structure of the RNA fell apart. Why?”

“Abby, she just had a seizure.” Jackson reminded the woman.

Raven ignored him, continuing on with finding a solution. “I think I know why Becca couldn’t make it work in this lab. Computer!” She shouted into the air as the Computer turned on. “Show me prototype Nightblood RNA binding in a zero G environment.”

The computer listened. On the giant screen next to Raven, the computer showed the trio exactly what Raven asked. When the Nightblood RNA began binding on the screen, the structure hadn’t fallen apart.

“Your hallucination told you this?” Jackson asked, unsure as to not only Raven’s health but whether or not trusting a hallucination was a great idea.”

Raven nodded, smiling at them both. “When I imagined I was weightless, my neurons must have been firing faster than my conscious mind could process.” Raven explained.

“Communicating through your subconscious.”

“Exactly.” Abby needed to know if this was possible. She asked Raven how to simulate zero G in the lab, only for Jackson to say it was impossible. Raven looked around Becca’s lab, her eyes scanning to how and why Becca got into space. “It’s impossible on earth.” Raven corrected him. “ALIE said Becca went to space looking for a more secure environment to get away from her, but I don’t think that’s the reason at all. I think she went to space to make Nightblood.”

“How does that help us? It’s not like we can go back into space.”

“Wanna bet?” Raven smirked. “Computer, open interior blast and launch doors.” The computer beeped, processing Raven’s words before it’s launch doors opened slowly. Raven, Jackson and Abby all stood in shock as Becca’s rocket was revealed in front of them. Raven laughed as she ran over to the rocket, checking it out before looking back at Abby and Jackson. “Who wants to go for a ride?”

---

As you led Roan away from the rest of his army, the Arkadia soldiers were getting restless. “The wait is killing me.” Harper groaned out, resting her head against her rifle, still aimed at Echo.

Monty gave her a sad look. “Relax. They should be at the cave by now. Besides, it’s not like we have another option. We have to give Y/N time.”

Harper nodded at him, still not completely settled with this idea. David’s voice came on the radio asking for a check. Unit one checked in but the second unit, Riley’s unit, was unresponsive. “Unit two. Riley, where are you?” he asked but Riley still hadn’t answered.

Monty looked through the scope of his gun, not seeing Riley in his spot. “Damn it. Costa, you got eyes on Riley?” Monty was already assuming the worst.

“Went to take a leak.” He told Monty.

“Did he leave his rifle?”

Costa looked to where Riley was perched on the rocks. Riley and his gun were gone, but his radio was still there. “Negative. Took it with him. Left his radio, though.”

“Maybe he went home.” Harper offered, choosing to give Riley the benefit of the doubt.

Monty shook his head. “Or he’s heading to that cave to execute the king of the people that made him a slave.” He turned to Harper seeing her face fallen. “Any other choice I’m missing?” Harper didn’t say anything. Monty made a decision and he pushed himself up.

“Wait, you’ll never make it past that army. What are you doing?” She stopped Monty before he could get that far.

“Stopping a war.” Monty crawled away, keeping himself low so the grounders wouldn’t see him. David yelled at him over the radio to maintain his position, but Monty didn’t listen.

---

You had led Roan to the cave, trying to keep your calm after seeing Bellamy and Kane. “I suppose you think you’ve got us right where you want us.” Roan told you as you stopped walking and glared at him.

“Roan, our people are allies. I thought we were friends. What are you doing?” You asked him.

“Friends.” He scoffed at your remark. “We had a deal and you broke it.”

“I broke it? You nearly killed Octavia. You’re holding Bellamy and Kane as hostages and you marched here with an army to do what exactly?” Roan started walking away but you moved in front of him, not letting him get away. “Why would you kill us when you know we’re all going to die soon anyways?”

“We’re not here to kill you, Y/N. We’re here to take your ship, a ship you restored to save your people, not mine.”

You let out a sigh, letting Roan move passed you as you shook your head. “The ship won’t save your people; it’ll hold 100 people tops. It’s a backup plan.”

“Then you won’t mind if I take it.” He snapped at you and you narrowed your eyes.

“I thought you said you trusted me.” You reminded him. Roan scoffed and you gritted your teeth. “Did Kane tell you about Nightblood?”

“He tried.” You looked at him, hopeful he’d see the good. “Sounds to me like you’re making the next commander, another violation of our deal.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “The flame’s gone, Roan. There’s no more commanders.” You lied to him. Roan obviously didn’t believe you, questioning Octavia’s honesty. “We’re not trying to overthrow you, we’re doing everything to save everyone, not just our people. The Nightblood solution will save everyone.”

Roan looked at you, seeing the way your head dipped at your words. “Do you honestly believe that?”

You looked in his eyes, the question not being one to point out your faults in belief but to know your opinion. “Can’t afford not to.” You whispered before clearing your throat.

Roan didn’t do anything, his stare still ice cold. “I don’t believe in miracles.”

He moved to the exit of the cave, leaving you there before you called out to him. “You don’t have to do this, Roan.”

He stopped, snapping to look at you. “I do. The way I see it, you have two choices. Tell your shooters to stand down, give us your ship, and use what ever time left to find your Nightblood solution,” He paused for a moment, letting you think about the option, “or tell them to open fire.”

“We have more bullets. You’ll lose.”

“Maybe.” You furrowed your brows. He knew he was going to lose, why was he fine? “We’ll both take loses, Kane and Bellamy among them.”

Bellamy.

Kane.

You couldn’t lose them.

“You think you can shake me? You’re going to have to do a lot more than that.”

Roan smirked at you, beginning to circle you. “Ah yes. The Skaikiler, how could I forget. Banished from her people, tortured, banished again, then decides to risk herself for the sake of the people, who still don’t accept her.”

Your stomach dropped as you listened, remembering the words of that man when your name was read out from Clarke’s list. “How do you know that?”

Roan stopped his moving and looked away from you. “Because the people don’t accept me either.”

Narrowing your eyes, you let out a short laugh. “Of course. How could I forget?” you mocked. “The banished King, fighting Lexa for your people as well. And if I remember right, you lost.”

“Ain’t we a pair?” His words were obvious sarcasm and he started to the exit one more time. “Fight it is.” he shouted and without thinking you stopped him.

“Wait!” He sighed, sending you a look over his shoulder as you sighed and inhaled deeply. “What if we share it?” You asked and Roan raised a brow. You’ve piqued his interest.

---

Monty had been making his way down from the mountain, emerging from the rocks with his hands in the air. The soldiers immediately took aim at him. “Stop! Hey, I’m unarmed! I need to speak to whoever’s in charge.” he shouted and hoped he wouldn’t be shot at. A man came over to him, grabbing his arms and bringing him closer. Harper’s gun was aimed at the head of the man holding Monty while Bellamy and Kane sat there worried. Monty was thrusted onto the ground in front of Bellamy and Kane.

Bellamy leaned into Monty, keeping his voice low. “Is Octavia alive?” He asked. Monty nodded watching Bellamy let out a tight breath and smile before Echo came over.

She ordered Monty to speak. “One of our people has moved out of formation. I’ve reason to believe he’s trying to kill your king.” Monty said with hopes Echo would see.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Why do you think he telling you this?” Bellamy interrupted, earning a glare from Echo. “He’s trying to stop a massacre.” When Monty told them it was Riley, Bellamy grew irritated. “Riley? He shouldn’t even be here.” Riley was risking your safety and Bellamy wasn’t going to let that happen.

“That seems to be the consensus.” Monty mumbled.

Echo clenched her jaw as she pulled out her sword, pointing to a few of her men and telling them to follow her. Kane stopped her before she got far. “If our snipers see archers on the move, they’ll open fire. Tell her!” He spoke the last part to Monty, needing the boy to remind Echo as to why they were there.

“Those are our orders.”

Echo shook her head. “I will not allow my king to be assassinated.”

“You don’t have to.” Bellamy spoke up. “I know Riley. Let me come and I can stop him.”

Echo didn’t believe Bellamy’s help not having an ulterior motive. “Do you think me a fool, Bellamy?”

“You’d be a dead fool if you step out of this kill box without me. Monty has a radio, let Kane tell them were working together to find Riley and they’ll let us pass.”

Echo took a moment to think over Bellamy’s request. He was right, if she moved out, your people would fire. Nodding her head to the man who brought Monty over, the radio was thrown to Kane. “This is Chancellor Kane.” Kane spoke into the radio, Sgt Miller came on, asking if Kane was alright but Kane ignored him. “Bellamy’s working with one of theirs to find Riley. You let him through, understood?”

Once David confirmed, Echo demanded Bellamy’s chains off and moved to Monty. “If I’m not back before the sun goes past the tree, kill the hostages.” Echo ordered.

Bellamy was standing, holding his hands out to Echo to release the cuffs on his hands but Echo didn’t, instead pushing his towards the cave. “So much for building trust.” Bellamy grumbled as he walked, Echo following behind him as they went off to stop Roan’s assassination.

---

Worried for Raven’s brain, Abby and Jackson put a monitor on her to watch her. They were looking on a screen on the upper level of the lab as Raven worked on the lower, looking at everything Becca had on the rocket. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Abby said as she watched Raven’s brain light up on the screen. “She’s using a huge percentage of her brain.”

Raven called up to Abby and Jackson. “There’s a flight simulator built into the rocket’s software!” She moved around the desk, looking at blueprints and schematics for the rocket. “Abby, get this hairnet off me so I can strap in and give her a whirl!”

Abby hesitated. “Not yet Raven. Keep doing what you’re doing. This is important.”

On the screen, the view of Raven’s brain switched and Jackson and Abby saw a block dot in her brain scan. “Is it ischemic or hemorrhagic?”

“We don’t know if it’s a stroke yet.” Abby reminded him as she looked at him, only to see Jackson shake his head.

Abby started towards Raven, skipping down the stairs as Jackson called after her. “Then what is it?”

Raven started looking at the rocket, telling them the rocket needed fuel which was back at Arkadia. “Raven I need you to slow down.”

“Slow down?” Raven laughed at Abby as she dragged the woman closer to the rocket. “You’re kidding me! Abby, we have a rocket we can use to go into space to make Nightblood. It’s a two-seater by the way. I drive, you cook. Sound like a plan?” Raven slung her arm over Abby’s shoulder, but Abby let it fall off so she could hold Raven’s arms. Raven saw the look on Abby’s face. “What?”

“Listen to me.” Abby began as comforting as she could as she pulled the brain scanner off of Raven. “Heightened mental ability, hallucinations, euphoria, headaches, they’re all connected. ALIE warned you that the EMP would cause brain damage.”

Raven took a deep breath as she realized what Abby was saying. “Jasper was right. That’s why no one else got an upgrade.”

“What are you talking about?” Abby had no clue what Raven was getting on about as she asked.

“For everyone else, Y/N had pulled the master kill switch. It’s like shutting down a program the right way. When the EMP fried my chip, it was more like cutting the power from the OS while the ram was still full.” Abby was listening, telling Raven to keep going. “Part of ALIE’s code is still in my head which is why I know things I was never taught.”

“Becca’s mind was in that code. That’s why you knew where the rocket was.”

Raven nodded. “Yes. And now I need to learn how to fly this thing.” She started towards the rocket so she could begin the simulation, but Abby grabbed her arm.

“Wait. Raven, your brain scan, it showed evidence of a stroke.” The news hit Raven like a brick wall. “I’m afraid if you keep pushing, it’s just going to make things worse.”

“I’ve been through worse, Doc.” Raven said as she smiled through the news that was hurting her.

“Not worse than this.” Abby said as she grabbed Raven’s hands. “Raven, it could kill you.”

“Could or will.” Abby couldn’t answer her but Raven didn’t need to hear it. “So what? I survive long enough for everyone else to die?” she asked. “I can’t do that Abby. Even if it costs me my life, you have to let me go.” Abby felt tears start to line her eyes as she tried to smile at Raven. Raven slowly let go of Abby’s hands as she moved to the rocket and Abby walked away, needing a moment to herself.

Jackson however followed her, concerned for her safety as well. “Abby, wait. Why haven’t you had any symptoms? They used the EMP on you, too.”

Abby didn’t stop, but looked over her shoulder. “We both know that brain tumors can induce entirely different symptoms in different people.”

Jackson wouldn’t accept it. “Still Abby, we have to scan your brain.”

She hesitated. “I’ll let you know if I have any headache, ok?” Jackson didn’t have a choice but to agree, yet he knew Abby wouldn’t tell him.

---

Echo and Bellamy made their way through the woods to the cave, Bellamy was leading as he kept an eye out for Riley. “That ridge gives the best sight line to the cave. That’s where we’ll find him.”

Echo watched him, looking at the ridge before speaking. “Are you really willing to kill your own man to save my King?”

Bellamy groaned. “Don’t you get sick of it?” He asked Echo as he turned to look at her. “Sides. My man. Your King. Praimfaya doesn’t give a damn what clan you’re from.”

Echo wasn’t fazed from his words. “I’m glad you get the chance to say good-bye to your sister before it comes.” Bellamy narrowed his eyes briefly at her before she motioned for him to move again. “Unless we all die here today.”

“If you had killed her, these chains would be around your neck.��

“It’s like Queen Nia used to say, ‘war makes murderers of us all’.”

---

Riley was sat on the ridge right outside the cave, he adjusted his scope to the perfect position to shoot when you and King Roan came out, hopefully with a solution you were introducing right now.

You had offered to share the ship if the Nightblood didn’t work. You and Roan took seating on some rocks as you discussed. “50 spots apiece?” Roan asked and you nodded. “I can live with that.”

“Can your people? Last time I checked they wanted war.” You reminded him, crossing your arms in front of you.

Roan looked at you, raising a brow. “I’m a king, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes. Yeah, the same king whose people wanted him dead. That’s reassuring. “I don’t have to ask my people what they want.” He said once he gained your reaction. “How will you sell this to your people? They won’t be happy about losing half their seats in the lifeboat.”

You hadn’t thought much about their reaction. You were mainly worried about how Clarke would take the fact you just limited your survivors. If the people didn’t completely hate you yet, they will soon. “Survival is more important than happiness.”

“If Skaikru won’t follow you when the time comes to close the door, Azgeda will see that it gets done.”

“Then let’s hope it never comes to that.” Roan had stood up as you spoke, you following right after. You didn’t say anything as you stretched out your hand. Roan looked down at your hand before pulling out his blade.

“We bind ourselves with blood.” He said and sliced his hand with it. He offered it out to you and you smirked at him.

“What? You don’t trust me?” you joked knowing damn well Roan didn’t. You took the blade and held it against your hand. “We bind ourselves with blood.” You said before sliding the knife out of your hand, wincing as it sliced your skin. You looked down at the blood briefly before locking hands with Roan, sealing the deal.

---

“We should be close.” Bellamy told Echo as they approached the ridge. “Follow my lead, if he fires that gun, we’ll be at war.” Echo agreed to stay behind Bellamy, letting him take the lead until they saw Riley, his rifle aimed at the cave. “There. Riley!” Bellamy started running to the boy. “Riley, stop, you don’t want to do this.”

Riley jumped as Bellamy and Echo appeared behind him. “Get out of here, Bellamy.”

Echo pulled back her bow, aiming it at Riley as his finger hovered over the trigger. Bellamy looked at Echo at the sound. “Echo, wait! If you fire, he will.” She didn’t lower her bow as Bellamy looked to Riley. “Riley, listen to me. Pulling that trigger won’t end anything. Kane and Monty will still be executed and our people will open fire. It’ll be a bloodbath.”

Riley didn’t want to listen. “You’re a prisoner. You’re just saying what they want. I know all about this.”

“I’m done with this conversation.” Echo growled. Bellamy stepped in front of Riley, shaking his head to tell Echo to stop. “Move or I’ll kill you too.” She threatened.

“Riley, stand down! Okay? I’m begging you.” Bellamy pleaded, trying to get the boy’s attention. “I know how you feel about them and I know what they did to you, but your life was saved for a reason and this isn’t it!” Bellamy was facing Riley now as Echo moved, getting a better aim as Bellamy put his hands up to stop her. “Don’t, please, he’s listening, aren’t you Riley?” Riley made little indication anything Bellamy was saying was getting through, but Bellamy didn’t stop. Riley watched out of the scope as you walk out of the cave, Roan right behind you as he lined up his shot to Roans head. “Trust me when I tell you, if this turns into a massacre, it will never get out of your head.” Bellamy’s memory of killing those Grounders after Mount Weather stuck with him, haunted him every day. Riley’s hand trembled, his finger still loaded on the trigger as he listened. “War made me a murderer. Don’t let it happen to you.” Riley let Bellamy’s words in, he let Bellamy get into his head and he couldn’t pull the trigger. He collapsed against his rock, crying to himself as Bellamy let out a breath of relief and comforted him.

You led Roan back to his Army to break the news, but you didn’t get far from the cave before you ran into Echo and Bellamy. “Bellamy?” you furrowed your brows as you jogged up to him, feeling him grab your waist and you threw your arms around his neck in a hug. He buried his face in your shoulder before you pulled away and looked at him, well aware of the eyes on you. “I thought I said keep your ass out of trouble.” You mumbled to him, hearing his soft chuckle.

“Yeah, thought it was my time to play damsel.” You cracked a smile at his joke, happy his was fine and nothing happened to him or to Kane. You looked back, letting go of him as you nodded to Echo. She ignored you, looking to her King.

“What did we miss?” Roan asked knowing something were to have happened for Echo and Bellamy to be here.

Bellamy looked to Echo as well, the girl’s face faltering for a second before finding words. “Nothing, sire.” She assured him and you looked to Bellamy, he gave you a tight-lipped smile and you knew he’d tell you the truth later, when Roan wasn’t around.

“I take it we’re not at war?” Bellamy cleared up as you shook your head.

Roan did so as well. “Not today.” You looked at him, sending him a small glare, that Roan smirked at.

“The ship?” Bellamy asked looking to you this time.

You nodded and took a deep breath. “We hope Abby can crack Nightblood or we share the ship.” Bellamy nodded, putting a hand on your back. “We find a way to survive together.” The words barely left your lips before an explosion sounded behind you. You turned around, everyone looking as well as your mouth fell open. Black smoke was rising into the air from the ground. “It came from Arkadia.”

---

A few minutes earlier…

Niylah and Octavia had begun their search for Ilian, hoping to find Clarke along the way to inform her but unfortunately, neither of them were found. Octavia groaned as she clutched her side, the pain from her recent injury worsening with the walking. “We’ve searched half the ship. What makes you so sure he’s still here?” Niylah asked as she supported Octavia’s walking, keeping an eye out.

“You didn’t see him in Polis. He was on a mission to destroy tech.” Octavia moaned and collapsed against the wall and out from Niylah’s arms. Niylah helped her, making sure she was alright. “It was no coincidence he found me on my way here. He used me to get inside.”

Niylah shook her head. The possibilities Ilian had in here were endless. “This whole ship’s tech. Where would you go to do the most damage?”

Octavia thought for a moment, remembering everything she knew about the ship before her eyes widened. “The server room.” She started off without Niylah’s help, not getting far before Niylah had to hold her up.

Ilian was in fact in the server room, pouring the flammable liquids he’d stolen earlier all over the floor. He finished pouring, tossing the bottle to the side as he held a lit torch in front of him. “For my brother. For my father. For my mother.” He said. He slowly lowered the torch to the ground to blow up the server room.

“Ilian, no!” He heard Octavia’s voice as he looked up, seeing the injured girl clinging onto her friend as she spoke. “Whatever you do here won’t bring your family back.”

“No one needs to die. You should leave.”

“Please.” Octavia was begging him. “The engine room is right below us. If it blows, you’ll destroy the whole ship.”

“That’s the idea.”

She shook her head, her eyes slightly watering from her pain. “I was a prisoner on this ship. I hate this place, but now we need it.” He remained unmoved. “Ilian please don’t do this.”

“Were you in the City of Light?” He asked her. Octavia’s lip trembled as she let out a broken no. “Then you’ll never understand.” And with that, Ilian dropped the torch onto the ground. The fire spread fast but the 3 of them were able to jump to safety before the ship blew, ruining any hope of survival inside.

Octavia gasped for a breath the moment she could, the smoke around her filling her lungs as she coughed it out. Niylah was unconscious not far from her, but as hard as Octavia tried, she couldn’t move. “Niylah!” she groaned, feeling her throat throb. With a great strength, Octavia turned on her back, looking up to see Ilian standing above her. He looked between the women on the ground before moving forward to Octavia. “What the hell are you doing?” Octavia groaned before he leaned down, throwing her arm over his shoulder.

He stood her up and let her use him as a support. “Making sure you don’t die.” He said before he moved to Niylah and picked her up, carrying both of them to safety.

You had gotten back to Arkadia as fast as you could, Bellamy right beside you as the screams of Arkadians filled the air, almost as loud as the ships’ destruction.

“I have to find my sister.” Bellamy said, glancing at you briefly before the two of you were back to looking at the people.

“She was in the medbay.” You told him, putting an arm on him as you both rushed to find her.

“Y/N! Bellamy!” You spun around to see Clarke running towards you, her face slightly scuffed from the smoke as you hugged her.

“How did this happen?” You looked back up at the ship. She shook her head and the three of you started looking again. You saw Ilian dragging out Octavia and Niylah as you grabbed Bellamy’s arm. “There!” you shouted and the three of you ran over. Clarke took Niylah as Bellamy grabbed Octavia. They carried them away as you looked up at the ship just a few feet in front of you and your heart pounding. You pulled yourself away, turning and seeing Roan and Echo. They were both looking at each other, no doubt your alliance slipping.

“Y/N!” you heard Kane yell at you as you looked at him, the ship started to fall next to you as you darted forward, the smoke already getting in your lungs and you cursed yourself for standing there too long. You ran back to where Bellamy and Octavia were as Kane caught you. You coughed as he patted your back and made sure you were okay. Your eyes were watery but you nodded, grabbing his arm as you looked back at the ship.

Clarke came back over, checking over Octavia as you listened to Octavia. “It was Ilian. I tried to stop him.” Clarke looked up at Ilian who was just standing there, bathing in his revenge. Her eyes harden as she stood up, her glare intensifying.

“Clarke.” You called out, trying to get her attention, but you were just as mad. Ilian ruined the one chance that humanity would survive. What the hell were you supposed to do now?

---

Abby’s job was never done. She worked well into the night, needing to find a solution. She was looking into the microscope again before she pulled away. She groaned walking on the other side of the table before something caught her attention. In front of the rocket, with her back turned to Abby was her daughter. “Clarke?” Abby called out, a smile working her way onto her face. She ran down the stairs, around the central computer to come in front of the rocket. “Clarke? How did you get here? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were coming?” Abby asked but when Clarke say anything, she put a hand on her shoulder.

When Clarke turned around, Abby gasped, for Clarke’s face was covered in radiation burns. Her eyes were different colors, one her normal blue, but the other a stormy white. This hallucination of Clarke just looked at Abby as Abby’s heart raced. “You’re running out of time, mom.”

Abby had to find a solution. Now.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think! Also be sure to catch the bonus chapter I’m posting tomorrow (July 9th)! I’m surprised you guys don’t hate yet with all my postponing's, but i guess if you did you probably wouldn’t say it. So thank you!

*Tags are open!*

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[razorblade180]

Looking Back

[Lasting Embers au spoilers]

A constant in life is that life is constantly changing; a concept known to any huntsman that were worth their salt on the battlefield. As well as anybody who chose a dangerous life style. For Adam, it was the second constant in his life. The first was the stary void that dawned over him with its trillions of stars. It might be the only real perk of night watch. It was his turn to keep an eye out for any enemy that could’ve been following him and the rag tag fever dream of a team he found himself with. When Jacquelyn told him life is a story that goes the way each person decides, he never imagine somehow he had written a story that would lead him to helping members of team RWBY, their families, and his as well. Crazy for sure but hey, crazier had happened. This didn’t even make the list.

Yang approached him from behind with two mugs in her hand. The both of them were ordered to watch the forest clearing from the tree line. Ruby was dead set on making sure the two of them were in sync enough to fight together if things got hairy. Yang could think of a million other ways to spend the night but she wasn’t about to complain and handed him the coffee.

Yang:One coffee, black. If you’re going for something gross to keep you awake then I understand.

Adam:I told you black so you couldn’t slip anything in it.

Yang:....

Adam:Joking, I wasn’t serious. Mostly.

Yang:Your humor is more bitter than your drink. *sips* you should try to be more grounded.

Adam:That was terrible. We can’t both be bad at this or I might die from boredom alone.

Yang:Stabs to the chest didn’t end you. I doubt puns will. I’d be upset; could’ve gotten rid of you a long time ago if they did.

Adam:What can I say? I’m one lucky bastard.

Yang:I’ll say....

The blonde bruiser sat down with her head supported by her hands. Being here was awkward, too awkward. Neither of them really continued speaking. One watched the fields whil the other star gazed. Adam would sometime steal glances at Yang’s arm before going back to mapping out the sky. Yang let out a long and over the top sigh. At this point, talking to Adam couldn’t be as unbearable as saying nothing.

Yang:We should play a game.

Adam:What?

Yang:You heard me. It’ll pass the time. Besides, I’m positive Ruby will keep sticking us as partners if we don’t even pretend to get along.

Adam:Who’s pretending? I made my peace with my thoughts on you a long time ago. If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have entertained the thought of looking over your daughter for over a decade.

Yang:Hmm is that right? Well, can’t say I’m not entirely over that hump.

Adam:This makes the fourth of fifth time you’ve told me that. You need new material. Freeing Jackie, me, when I showed up at your home, the train ride; I get it. Messaged received.

Yang:Tsk, no need to sound smug about it.

Adam:I’m not. I just don’t see a reason for you to state the obvious. You don’t forgive someone who shouldn’t be forgiven. What, are you upset because people like your sister don’t share the sentiment?

Yang:Why bring Ruby up and not Blake?

Adam:Like I said, stating the obvious. How are you two though? You’ve had plenty of time to properly bury that hatchet.

Yang:We’re just fine. Even before this whole cult shit.

Adam:Good. It’s already insane you two “killed” me and didn’t get together. I’d feel some type of way if you weren’t even friends. Talk about a let down.

Yang:You’re the reason- ugh, why the hell am I even trying to hold a proper conversation with you? I might as well pull my hair out...

Adam:....The hate game.

Yang:What?

Adam:It’s the game I wanna play. You and another person take turns talking about something you hate about the other.

Yang:That....sounds so stupid.

Adam:That’s the spirit, I’ll go first. You’re really loud all the time. Ever heard of a inside voice?

Yang:That’s rich coming from the screaming goat. All you ever did was scream Blake’s name.

Adam:All you ever did was scream in general. I hate how you always seem to butt into everything. It’s one thing to help a friend but you like act like you have a right to have an opinion on people you know by association.

Yang:I don’t need to know much about a terrorist to know you’re terrible.

Adam:I hate how you haven’t realized this is the first time you’re judging me by the crimes I committed for the first time, instead of claiming I was nothing but fake towards Blake and Ilia.

Yang:....

Adam:Everything is personal with you.

Yang:Says the hypocrite.

Adam:I won’t deny that. You feel better or you got more on your chest?

Yang:We’d be here for years if I said it all.

Adam:Then say the important ones I know you wanna say. “I hate that you’re still alive.” Or is it “I can’t stand your dismissive attitude?” The fact anybody like me was given a second-

Yang:I hate that you’ve spent more time with Yujin than me...

Adam:Oh....hmm. *lays back*

Yang:Got nothing smart to say, jackass?

Adam:Hey if you raised my kid with me barely around, I’d hate you too. Can’t fault you for that one.

Yang:It’s a twisted joke really. So many people to look over her from afar and it’s you. What was Sun thinking?

Adam:We were under staffed and things got ugly really fast. Decisions had to happen quickly. Plus the threat was clearly too unknown and dangerous to half ass anything. They killed two of you after all.

Yang:It would be wise to keep that incident out of your mouth. Ruby might tolerate you but that’ll change before I can even lift a finger.

Adam:Now you’re warning me? I thought your sister stomping me out would make your day.

Yang:Dude...shut up.

Adam:....What happened to your uncle and friend was terrible, sorry.

Yang:Ugh, even you saying that feels so wrong.

Adam: Please, thank you, and I’m sorry aren’t that hard. It’s not even new. The white fang wasn’t all snarls and chanting like you think. For awhile I pretty calm there.

Yang:The key word being “awhile.” You murdered your own.

Adam:Yep.

Yang*grits teeth* That’s all you say? People keep saying you’re different left and right and yet you don’t seem even a little regretfull. You’re sipping coffee and staring at the stars as if you hadn’t spent most of your life ruining other’s! What part of that sounds like a change of heart!?

Adam didn’t break his attention away from those stars. If he did, Adam would’ve no doubt seen how irritated Yang was. Her eyes burned red as she waited for an answer. Yang’s coffee was even boiling.

Yang:Well?

Adam:Regretting doesn’t bring them back, or the most heartfelt apologies. It just stirs anger. You wouldn’t feel better about your arm if I apologize.

Yang:So you choose to not even try.

Adam:No, I’ll just convince Jacquelyn to get the relic of creation whenever we eventually go to Atlas.

A perfectly good cup of coffee falls out of Yang’s hand. Did she hear that right? Adam just said he planned on creating an arm with a relic, for her!

Adam:What? It made me an eye. Making an arm is far less complicated than that. I’d say that would be better than any words I could say that you wouldn’t believe anyways.

Yang:....It’s your turn again.

Adam:Ah, let’s see. Well, if I were to be honest I guess...it really bothers me how similar you are to your daughter.

Yang:The hell does-

Adam:Let me finish before you break my ribs. That kid of yours pretty feisty and passionate about so many things. She bugged me to help train her until I finally said yes. Yujin gets frustrated easily and gets really sensitive about certain maternal subjects; yet it isn’t like she doesn’t want to avoid those conversations altogether. Seriously, your daughter is a little bit of a mess, but a fun mess. That bothers me because for a split second I can’t help but wonder that maybe if you and encountered each other on the same side in the beginning...maybe we’d be decent acquaintances or something.

Yang:D-Did you just say what I think you just said.

Adam:Who knows? I suck with words. I’m gonna rest for a little bit.

He turned his back to her to avoid eye contact. Yang couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Was he embarrassed? Did he actually try some roundabout way of saying she was a good person? If only Blake was here for that. She would’ve flipped. Yang looked up the sky then back at the field; still nothing. When her guys went back to the stars it was curiosity.

Yang:Hey, were you staring a constellation in particular or something?

Adam:You can see Capricornus well from here. I joke all the time with Jael about that one since she’s into a shark faunus. Looking at it made me think about her is all.

Yang:Jael is your second daughter right?! I can’t believe I didn’t know that. I remember the first one for sure.

Adam:You were a little preoccupied to notice anything regarding Jael. Her and Yujin share a birthday.

Yang:No foolin!? Well how about that.

Adam:Yeah, life sure does like it’s jokes. I get a lot of flack if I’m not around for one’s birthday. Jael will get pouty and your daughter gets fussy. “You promised!” I’ve heard that too much.

Yang:Hehe, Jin might get that from me. It’s natural for your kid though. I know I wanted my dad around for mine. Even when I grew up and acted like I was too grown to really care, I wanted his birthday breakfast. Your kid looked like a real beauty.

Adam:Thanks, definitely got that from her mother.

Yang:Haha, don’t feel bad. Seeing Yujin with short hair made me think Jaune had another younger sister I just never met. His genes are way too strong.

Adam:Trust me, I’ve seen her with long hair and in the middle of a fight. I might’ve called her your name a few times.

Yang:Oof, that must’ve pissed her off.

Adam:No....she was actually surprised more than anything. Yujin never hated you Yang. Despite how she acted whenever your name was mentioned. I think she just wasn’t sure how to feel about you besides feeling lonely. I’m not any better with Jael. You wanna talk regrets, I don’t think I spent enough time with her the way I should’ve. Hopefully I’m wrong.

Yang:It’s very telling that you don’t regret your past but you regret something like that.

Adam:My past is terrible and dark, but it led me to my wife and kids. It feels wrong to regret it, so I’ll just accept it and carry on. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have time to live in the present.

Yang:Geez, ever the drama queen. Though I can see a little bit of that view point. Still a spit in the face to people and yourself if you asked me.

Adam:The world thinks I’m dead and has made their mind up about me a long time ago. I go around taking down other terrorists and orginizations to keep them safe as a way to give back. I don’t owe the world anymore than that. I’m simply a remnant among Remnant. My regret is my kids have me as a dad. A kid should be able to talk about their parents and be proud.

Yang:Can’t argue with that. At least you stayed and are apart of their life. I can barely say that.

Adam:Helping save Remnant from another shadow war is a pretty strong excuse. Especially when the group has actually killed your family members. You’re just protecting them. Jaune and Yujin understand that.

Yang:....I hate that you’re not as terrible anymore. Reasonable you is too...

Adam:Reasonable?

Yang:I really hope I don’t have with this for another ten years.

Adam:I give it two, tops. You have a maiden with you this time and me. I’ll just hit you so you can get stronger and wreck shop.

Yang:Hit me and I hit you.

Adam:I’ll block, now we’re both wrecking shop.

Yang:Jacquelyn must have the patience of a saint to deal with you.

Adam:Yep, she’s pretty great. Saved my life, saved my soul. Couldn’t ask for more. You two would probably get along.

Yang:Nah, we worked together once. Wasn’t the best experience.

Adam:I was kidnapped and you were both pregnant. I’m not the smartest person but I’m positive that was a recipe for disaster. She thinks you’re cool, really respect your virtues. Sometimes it feels like she’s quoting you unfortunately.

Yang:Oh, glad I left a good impression. Maybe I can have her whisper regrets into your ear. Seriously, I regret things like lying to Ruby about tiny things yet you don’t really regret anything?

Adam:My regrets take place before the white fang. They remain in the work camp I escaped from. It’s funny, Yujin reminds me of my little sister, Eve.

Yang:Are you telling me that you, Adam, had a sister named Eve?

Adam:When you live in a place devoid of hope or faith, you cling to it in any way can. So my mother named us to help maintain hers. Probably had something to do with the loss of our father. Can’t say, never met him.

Yang:What was your mother’s name?

Adam:Don’t know. I called her mom and the gaurds called her by a serial number. Even that’s a little hazy. Anyways, sis got caught in an mining incident; mother was gunned down because I furious at a gaurd that stopped me from saving Eve.

Yang:Wow that’s umm, heavy stuff. Is that how you...*point to face*

Adam:Yeah, called it my punishment for disobeying. As far as regrets go, it would’ve been nice to be a son and brother; one that got to actually have proper meals.

Yang looked at Adam stare deeply into the void of space. It was strange. Yang has never seen Adam look mournful before. His eyes seemed to get more lost in thought by the second. A part of her felt....sorry for him.

Yang:I’m sure they’ve watched over you since day one. Who knows? Maybe they’re the real reason you’ve survived so long? If I know a thing or two about little sisters and mothers, they’ll never let you rest until you clean up your act, hehehe. Ruby can vouch for that. I bet both of them would be proud of your end result.

Adam:That’s funny. It kinda sounds like you just tried showing me compassion.

Yang:Pfft, I think you may have brain damage you didn’t know about.

Adam:Oh it’s possible. Neo and Mercury have put me through some shit.

Both of them laughed and continued to chat aimlessly, unaware that Ruby and Raven were watching from their own vantage point.

Raven:Well look at that? Maybe the gods haven’t abandoned us if people like those two can chat like that.

Ruby:Looks like our colorful team has gotten a little more stable. Now if only Weiss can get used to Nora’s snoring.

Raven:That’s seriously on your to-do list?

Ruby:I refuse to lead my team poorly this time around. I’ll do whatever I can whenever I can.

Raven:Qrow and Oscar would be proud to see you back on your feet, the right way this time.

Ruby:Can’t mourn forever. This is the mission to end all missions. I’m going full throttle...

[bigtiddycommity]

Clé: Miroh (4)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader ft. Stray kids & Got7

Warnings: Slight profanity

Summary: An up and coming singer is introduced to the rough and unfair world of the music industry when she is tricked into a fake relationship with a popular idol. Her entire world has been turned upside down and now not only is she hated by millions of fans around the world but she is now despised by her...boyfriend?

Word count: 3k

________________________________

“Gogi.” Jisung said slowly as he sat criss crossed on the fuzzy black carpet in Auriellas bedroom.

“Meat..?” She said in return, hesitantly.

“Great job, noona!” Jisung high fived the girl.

Over the past few weeks, the boys have made an effort to get to know Auriella and so far, things were going relatively well considering the circumstances. They had been helping her learn Korean and she was doing great. She still struggled with writing but she was a fast learner and can mostly understand basic conversation now.

Though Chan and Auriella barely spoke, the living arrangements weren't all that bad. Everyone had their own room and space to do as they pleased away from the public eye. The boys also had freedom in their new home without JYP staff breathing down their throats. Since Auriella owned the home, JYP and its staff had no authority on her property, which meant the boys had full privacy and freedom when they weren't at work.

While living with the boys, Auriella had gotten used to each boy's habits, likes and dislikes. Since she was such a small girl, she was often overlooked and that fact gave her more time to observe her surroundings. She now knew each boy inside and out. Their different styles, tics and habits. The boys of Stray Kids were growing on Auriella and she had to admit, she liked it.

“Noona,” Jisung laughed, poking the tummy of the stuffed panda on the girls floor. “What's with you and pandas?” Auriella’s room had a multitude of small to medium sized stuffed animals but majority were pandas or stuffed peach shaped characters.

“Hey, those are my babies.” She pouted, teasing. She loved pandas, they were her favorite animals. She found them cute and fluffy.

A dramatic gasp sounded from Auriella’s bedroom door. The two people in the room turned to the sound to find Jeongin standing there, his mouth agape and one hand on his chest, over his heart.

“Noona, how could you? I thought I was your baby.” He dramatized.

“Face it, kid, you've been replaced.” Jisung added with a smirk.

“Oh, you break my heart. Here I was, coming to share my food with you and this is how I'm treated? Rude.” He sassed, wiping a foux tear from his cheek.

“You are my baby! Come here, honey.” She held her arms out, remaining seated on the carpeted floor.

The younger boy beamed and tackled her in a hug with an adorable yell of happiness. Jisung took their affection as an opportunity to grab for the bag of food the younger boy had brought in.

“Oh, ramen!” He exclaimed.

Jeongin flushed, getting off of Auriella after she kissed his forehead in thanks.

“I got you that shrimp tempura you liked, too, Noona.” The maknae said, pulling out the dishes in the bag before handing her the wrapped container.

The girl squealed in happiness. “Yum!”

Across the hall, the leader of Stary Kids sat in his room, in the same position he had been in for hours prior, working on music. It wasn't odd for Chan to lock himself away while producing. He would get into a sort of trance once inspiration hit and after a while, his members knew to leave him alone when he did get into that sort of funk. He would refuse food and all forms of communication all in the name of music. It was unhealthy, but the members stopped trying to pry him away from his computer years ago. It was no use.

Usually, nothing and no one could pull Bang Chan from his work but the boy couldn't help but pause when he heard an odd noise through his headphones, causing him to remove them from his ears. It was then that he heard a loud choking wheeze coming from down the hall. He took a moment to listen, in case it was one of the members messing around with each other but then he heard the panicked cries of his younger members yelling Auriella’s name.

In a split second, he jumped up from his chair and found himself bounding down the hall and into the girls room. Once he arrived, he was met with a panicked Jeongin and Jisung hovering over Auriella as she lay on her back, struggling to breathe. Noodles were scattered all over the floor around the three.

“What?! What happened?!” He questioned.

“I-i don't know, Hyung. One second she was eating and the next she said she couldn't breathe!” Jeongin responded, panicked. Was this his fault? He should have checked the food better.

“Call an ambulance.” Chan instructed. The younger boy didn't move. “Now!” Chan raised his voice, startling Jeongin from his shocked trance.

While the maknae ran off to do as he was instructed, Chan moved down onto the floor next to Aurella’s slowly stilling body.

“Auriella? Can you hear me?” He asked, getting closer to her face, trying to make eye contact. “Are you allergic to anything?” He asked once he met her orbes.

“I-i don't know..” She croaked, reaching for his arm.

Chan was beginning to respond when her eyes rolled back into her head and she began shaking violently. Moving all of the objects away from her body, Chan asked Jisung to grab a pillow for her head.

“Move her on her side, now!” He said. “Was anything in her mouth, do you know?” Chan wanted to make sure she didn't choke.

“I don't remember, hyung. Let me check-” He reached his hand towards Auriellas foaming mouth, only to be pushed away by his leader.

“No, don’t! She could hurt you.” Chan looked down at his watch to time her seizure.

After a few moments, she stopped shaking and Chan moved from her side to behind her, where he propped her up against his chest.

Stroking her head gently, he instructed Jisung. “Go in my room, in the top drawer of my desk you'll see a big needle. Bring it to me, quick.” Chan instructed, his eyes never leaving Auriellas face.

“Okay.” He ran out of the room and returned a moment later with the object he was sent for.

“Okay, give it to me and hold her thigh steady.”

“What are you gonna do, hyung?” The younger boy asked, confused and worried once he saw how big the tip of the needle was.

One look at his leader and he knew he wasn't going to get an answer so he followed instructions and held Auriella’s leg still. Chan steadied his hand and plunged the epipen into the girls’ thigh.

Auriella’s chest raised slightly as she took an unconscious breath of air. Her breathing still sounded labored but at least she was breathing, which is more than she was doing a moment prior.

Soon, Jeongin came into the room, two medics in his tow carrying a stretcher. She was carried off into the ambulance and taken to the nearest hospital as the members of Stray Kids prepared to follow the ambulance.

All nine members sat in the private waiting room of the hospital, anxious to hear an update on Auriella’s condition. Jeongin sat with his hands clenched, tears of guilt and worry running down the young boys face. Jeongin couldn't help but blame himself. In all the time he and Auriella spent together, the boy felt he should have known. He should have asked what she was allergic to and now she was in a hospital bed, barely breathing on her own, and it was his fault.

The boy let out a sob as he recalled the events hours prior. The heartbreaking sound caught the attention of Hyunjin, who sat next to him.

“Hey,” His voice was soft, yet firm. “This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing she would have a reaction like that.”

“B-but she stopped breathing, hyung. She'll never forgive me. I can't blame her, either.” He said, turning to look back at white tile beneath his sneakers.

“Yah, you know Auriella. She would never-” His sentence was cut off by a new, older voice

“Family of Auriella Duran?” A man with a clipboard in hand asked as his eyes moved around the room.

In perfect unison, all members of Stray Kids all stood up and looked at the mean expectedly.

“Oh, um,”He was flustered due to all of the eyes on him all at once. “Are you all here for her?” Only two visitors are allowed at a time for ICU patients. The doctor took one look at the tearful, worried eyes of a group of young men and sighed.

“Shes awake, so you can go in, but you'll need to be very quiet and careful. She's a bit weak.”

The group thanked the man and bowed in respect before following him down the hall and to Auriella’s room. Once inside the white room, the boys were able to see Auriellas small, pale body lying on a hospital bed, an oxygen mask sitting on her face, aiding her.

As soon as Jeongin’s eyes saw Auriella’s state, a loud, uncontrollable sob left the young boys throat. At the sound, Auriella turned her head from the window in the room, to her visitors. An automatic smile began to grow onto her face but it soon diminished as soon as she caught sight of the tears running down Jeongin’s face.

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, removing the mask from her face. “Come here,” She opens her arms weakly, wanting, needing to comfort her friend.

The maknae followed instructions, pushing his member out of the way as he tumbled the distance towards Auriella. The boy fell onto her small body, hugging her as quiet sobs left his shaking body.

Auriella ran her hand through his hair soothingly, attempting to calm him down. Looking up at the other people in the room, the girl smiled and ticked her head to the side, indicating that they could fully enter the room.

“I’m okay.” Her soft voice sounded.

“Noona, I-” He choked out a sob.

“Shh.” She shushed. The last she wanted was Jeongin blaming himself over an innocent mistake.

“How do you feel?” Jisung asked, walking closer to her hospital bed.

“I feel better. They gave me some medication for my throat, it's a little swollen.” She said, hoping to bring some peace to his worry as well as the worry of the boy in her lap. Jeongin had stopped crying now, simply finding comfort in Auriella’s arms.

“That was scary.” Felix said from across the room.

“Yeah..I’m sorry for worrying you. I know it must have been a bit of a surprise.” She said smiling down at Jeongin who had momentarily met her eyes.

“We are just glad you're okay.”Changbin spoke up unexpectedly.

Since Auriella had arrived, the boy seemed to avoid her at all costs. He wasn't rude or mean to her by any means but he definitely didn't go out of his way to have any extra contact with her either. He was always in the background, silently watching but never approaching. He would joke around and be his normal self when he was with his members but anytime Auriella would walk into the room, he went radio silent.

“Oh, um thank you, Changbin, for caring.” She meant it. Auriella was beginning to think he didn't like her.

“How did this even happen? What caused this?” Minho was the one to ask the question everyone was wondering. His face was monotone but his voice was curious.

“They said it was an allergic reaction to the batter used for the tampura.” She told the group.

“You should tell us these things, noona, so we can watch out for them.” Jisung said, nudging her gently.

“I didn't even know I was allergic to anything. It's a surprise to me, too.” She said, disbelief sounding her tone.

“Do you know when you'll be out of here?” Seugmin asked quietly.

“The doctor said he wants me to stay a couple days for observation, but if everything is okay, I can be discharged by the end of the week.”

“We’re lucky it wasn't more serious. If Chan- hyung hadn't-” Hyunjin’s words were cut off when the girl spoke.

“Chan?” He hasn't uttered a word since he walked into the room. He stood in the far corner of the room, his arms crossed across his chest, head down. Auriella turned to him. “You saved me?” She asked, confusion in her voice.

“I, uh, have a little allergic to certain chemicals so I had an epipen and.. Yeah.” He said, avoiding eye contact with the girl.

Bang Chan was the last person Auriella expected. It's not that she thought he was an evil person who would enjoy her suffering, but she hadn't been all that kind to him since the day they met. She was tolerant but she didn't go out of her way to speak with him. She was still upset over how he treated her and how he taunted her without giving her a chance.

“Thank you.” Her voice was tender, she was serious. He had saved her life and Auriella was more than grateful.

At her words, Bang Chan finally met her eyes, something he hadn't been able to do in weeks without feeling shame overtake him. Just by looking into her eyes, he could see how thankful she was. The two stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before Chan cleared his throat and raised a hand to rub his neck.

“You're uh, you're welcome, Auriella.” He said shifting in his spot.

Bang Chan wasn’t selfish or cruel. Auriella was wrong about him but now she knew. There was an entire other part to him that hid beneath the surface. A good side, a caring and dependable side.

Maybe things could be different now.

__________________________________

Weeks had passed since Auriella’s accident. Since then, she and chan had been better with their “friendship”. Still slightly stiff and awkward but better than it had been when they first met. After Auriella’s little scare, the members had tried harder to get to know her better.

“Woah Auriella, is that you?” Hyunjin asked, shocked as he watched an old music video of her old group Lunar.

The concept was dark and sexy, which was an image the members had not expected from tiny, bubbly Auriella.

The girl giggled, amused by his reaction. “Yeah, I actually choreographed that song.”

“Really? Noona, we should dance together!” Felix was excited. He already had a few ideas bouncing around his head.

“Yeah! It would be so fun.” Hyunjin encouraged

“What would?” A new voice made the three people in the room turn to see Minho coming in from the front door, taking off his shoes.

Auriella looked back down at the laptop screen, avoiding his eyes. Changbin had been polite yet distant to her but Lee know had just been distant. He hadn’t made any effort to get to know her at all. In fact, it was as if she didn’t exist at all. He looked and walked right past her.

“Hyung, we were thinking of doing some choreography with noona, have you seen her dance?!” Felix exclaimed to a stone-faced Lee know.

“Why?” His tone was harsh, blunt. As if Felix had just said the most idiotic thing he had ever heard.

Auriella wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She hated the sudden change in atmosphere at his question. Minho had an intimidating edge and she wasn't sure what his issue was with her.

“I just-.” Felix stammered, not expecting such a sharp reply from the elder boy.

“She's here to sit pretty and get paid. That's it. She's not here to be your little friend, felix. This is all fake, a plan JYP set up, so don't get attached. She won't be here long.” With that, he threw his keys into the bowl by the front door and walked off towards his room.

The room stunned into silence was broken by Hyunjin. “Is that true? Is Jyp paying you to be here? To date hyung?”

“No. I'm not getting payed. Just like I told you, I was tricked into signing that contract and forced to uproot my life here in Korea. As much as I like you guys, i’m not exactly here by my own free will. I’m bound by JYP.”

“What about your career, noona? Are they making you stop?” Felixs’ voice was soft, childlike.

“According to the contract, I can still sing but i’ve been officially removed from my group, so if I really wanted, I would have to be solo.” She shook her head at her words. “But, I-i don’t know.”

“I’m sure it might be scary to do it alone after being in a group but you can’t let your talent go to waste.” Hyunjin replied. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. All this was happening to her because of himself and his group.

“I have a few demos I recorded that I saved for my group but they are still a little messy.” She shook her head, fiddling with her fingers nervously. “I was gonna ask JYP if I could have one of his producers help me with them, but I don’t know.”

“Changbin-hyung could help! He taught Han how to produce, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you too.” Felix said, jumping slightly as the idea came to him.

“Changbin? I don’t know..he doesn’t seem..” Auriella trailed off, unsure.

“Hyung is just a little shy, but I promise you’ll like him once you get to know him.” Hyunjin encouraged. He really wanted to do this for her.

Auriella took a deep breath as she thought about it. Music was everything to her and she couldn’t see herself living happily without it. She wanted to make the best of the situation she had been thrown into. She had never been the type to give up and she didn’t want to start now.

“Okay, let’s do it.” The two boys turned to each other beaming.

This was going to be great.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 22: Proposition

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Twenty-Two: Proposition

Note: This entire chapter feels like a shitpost, and I love it. Also, dear god have I been busy working on things for a physical release of the fic! You’ll hear more about that next week on Wednesday, but if you are interested in beta reading, I have left a form below. Doing it myself is tricky, and there is a free copy in it for you bound in your choice of type (hardback, paperback, hardback with a paper cover, etc) and you will receive credit because I’m not a monster XD. 

I think I want to do it as a charity thing, so suggest charities the proceeds should be donated to in the form below even if you’re not interested in being a beta reader! The size of the charity is irrelevant. They just have to be credible (IE not a nightmare like Autism Speaks or the Salvation Army, or PETA, not to get judgy or upset anyone. They just have a very bad rep.) Anyway, enough of that! Back to the story!

(-~-)

By all accounts, the initial plan had been simple enough. They were going to eat dinner and then see where the evening took them. The only issue was that not a single one of them had really thought the plan through. That was typical enough, all things considered, but none of them really considered the fact that accomplishing that goal might be a little bit harder than they had originally expected it to be. Namely because of one major problem.

While Sirrus’s intentions had been pure enough when he had offered to cook, and V’s had been equally so when he had agreed to allow him to do so, the execution of those plans had left much to be desired. Making plans without knowing the full extent of their impact seemed to be something that ran in the Sparda family, regardless of the context of the plan, and while this was a minor occurrence in a sea of what had otherwise been huge high stakes situations, that didn’t change the fact that it was literally impossible to cook without food. And if it wasn’t, no one present wanted to know how that was done.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems that you might be a little short on… everything at the moment.” Sirrus said as politely as he could, clearly amused by the utter emptiness that he was presented with when he opened the cabinet door. “Am I getting my hopes up by assuming that you have something in the refrigerator, or are we just going to have to make a run to the store? I mean, we’re probably going to have to for what I had in mind, but still.”

V felt himself die a little inside at his companion’s polite yet ruthless assessment of his current living situation. Sirrus was entirely correct, it was too much to hope for. He hadn’t really been home much recently, if at all since he had acquired the place, and as such, grocery shopping had been very low on his list of priorities. It had been easier to just grab something and call it a day in the two days that he had actually been in the house so far. He only wished that he had thought of that before he’d offered to allow Sirrus to cook! He could have saved himself a lot of unneeded embarrassment.

Was this what it felt like to be Dante? Because if it was, that was a tragedy. The only upside to his current situation was that Lucia, Nico, and Nero were in the next room talking, so they were not able to experience his deep loathing and shame first hand, not to mention the verbal beatdown that he had just suffered at Sirrus’s hands. Or should he say vocal cords? Either way, the point still stood that he did indeed need to procure food because the only thing available to consume in the house was peeling wallpaper, dried-out paint, and dust. And knowing V’s luck, Shadow had probably already consumed those already when he wasn’t looking. That was absolutely something she would do.

“I would say the latter is the most true, given the options at hand. That is not to say that the second option is not correct, as it absolutely is… but that’s not the type of narrative I’d like to weave at this juncture.” V “But the thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest, so it is probably best that I simply accompany you to the store so I can see to it that my cabinets are not as bare as Dante’s office is dark.”

Sirrus nodded as he closed a stary cabinet door, turning to fully face the slightly frazzled young man. “That seems agreeable enough. Hopefully my matter of fact, no-nonsense way of stating the obvious wasn’t as abrasive as it seems now that I am able to look back on it. Hindsight is 2020, as they say.” He straightened out his long shirt, adjusting his shoulders as he allowed his head to pull from side to side. He was slightly uncomfortable as, for the first time, he stepped close enough to V to notice that they were largely the same size and stature. What an eye-opening realization. “I’m sarcastic, some would even sardonic, but I like to think I’m not unfeeling. I’ve yet to lose my grip on the reality of the world around me and start to view the rest of the world with a sort of cold dissonance like so many around me have. What do people call that now? Being edgy? Somehow I am under the impression that that might not be the proper use of that term.”

V brushed him off, taking a step to the side instead of taking a step back. He wasn’t intimidated by the tall redhead despite the fact that he was sure that he probably had ample reason to be. There was a certain mysterious quality to him that was carefully outlined with a certain measure of involuntary menace that he couldn’t quite place, and his prior comments didn’t help in that regard. There was just something… feral about him, some sort of wild strength that he knew that his guest could reach into if he wished to do so and bring to bear against those he considered deserving of it. It was something that he could just feel in the pit of his stomach, a sort of primordial sense of strength and power that reminded him of his own family, but it was notably different in a way that was hard to describe. Was it darker somehow? Was that the right way to put it? 

But that wondering was enough to keep him grounded in a situation like this. He seemed trustworthy, but he would still keep his guard up until he was absolutely sure, even if he wasn’t actively trying to do so. It was simply instinct, and going with his gut had kept him alive this long, so he was going to continue doing so. If it wasn’t broken, then he wasn’t going to fix it. “Think nothing of it. I take no offense to you stating the obvious. I don’t think that there has been food in this house in at least a decade.”

“Probably longer than that, if I remember correctly. This place has been empty for about fifteen years. After the will was read, Magnolia’s side of the family cleaned the place out as quickly as they could before they went their separate ways. Quite a lot of bad blood between them, from what I could tell. It was a shame how that all played out, but grief brings out the worst in people, especially when the root cause of that grief is so… unexpected.” The man with the long red hair peered out of the back door for a moment as though he were expecting something or perhaps had heard a commotion of some sort. He seemed to study the bushes against the back wall for a long moment before continuing. “As per your request… that is more than fine by me. I won’t, then. I shall pretend that we never mentioned the food in the first place.”

“You say that as though you were personally there to see it. You seem too young to have witnessed something of that nature, but you have first-hand knowledge of it from a viewpoint that would suggest that you were a neutral party witnessing it from within the inner circle of what was going on.” V was admittedly curious as to how Sirrus would explain something like that in a way that made sense. Or would it make sense at all? Who was to say. He would simply have to wait and find out. “I had assumed that we were quite close in age. But then again, everyone knows what they say about assuming things. I should have known better than to think that I know everything about someone that I barely know. My mistake.”

“Looks can be deceiving, as I’m sure you know first hand. Your family is quite literally living proof of that concept. I assure you however that I was present. I just seem younger than…” He stopped, catching himself as though he were about to say something that he didn’t mean to, waiving off both his near mistake and V’s apology casually. V was clever, something that he had pegged about him from the very first moment that they had made eye contact. It was something intrinsic in the way that he held himself, and every time that he had opened his mouth since then had only served to strengthen that notion. But now his keen intellect was becoming troublesome, not that it changed anything in the end either way. ”That quote from before about the harvest… William Blake, if I remember correctly? I’m quite fond of his works, especially the illustrations. Quite the brilliant man.” He stopped for a moment, seemingly considering something before looking over at the doorway. He then nodded quietly to himself before redirecting his attention towards V once more, finding his companion’s silence interesting. He seemed to be waiting for him to continue. “Personally, Mary Shelly is my all-time favorite. Frankenstein and all that. I have a more contemporary favorite as of late, but telling you that might say more about me than I mean for it to, so I’ll keep it to myself for now.

Now V had more questions than answers. Sirrus was a walking mystery, and the more that he spoke, the more V questioned his own perception and his impression of him changed. It was as fascinating as it was confounding, but he couldn’t say that he disliked it. There was just something captivating about not being able to read him, regardless of how hard he tried. A part of him wondered if anyone else in his family had this issue. He would ask them when presented with the chance to do so. Well then, back to what we were discussing before.”

“We were discussing something before? I can’t say that I remember anything. But I do recall you saying to “think nothing of it.” The playfully smug, all-knowing tone of voice that he spoke in was enough to make V shake his head and roll his eyes, but he resisted. It was a welcome juxtaposition to the conversation that they had just indulged in, and they were both somehow simultaneously relieved that they didn’t have to indulge in it any longer.

He couldn’t help but snicker somewhat at that response. Sirrus was endearingly hatstand, wasn’t he? Despite the unintentionally tense conversation that they had just indulged in, the white-haired summoner couldn’t help but be amused. It was complicated, and yet so very simple. “Let’s go to the store, Sirrus. I’ll tell the others that we will return shortly. You may accompany me if you’d like.”

Sirrus nodded politely, using both hands to signal to him that he was to walk first as he bowed lower than what was needed and stepped back out of his companion’s way. V scoffed in amusement but went along with his slightly antiquated gesture, admittedly entertained by it. Yes, this had to be what other people felt like when they met him for the first time. He understood why they looked at him like that now. Slowly but surely, it was all coming together.

(-~-)

From what they could tell, the store was mostly empty. It was nearly 9 o’clock at night, and it seemed that everyone who wanted to buy groceries had done so by then. While it was understandable that most people in the city wouldn’t want to start cooking this late, it was still a little bit surreal to see just how few people were willing to make a midnight dash to the supermarket to stock up on general goods and necessities. One could only imagine that recent events in the region had made people more than a little bit jumpy, but this was an entirely new level of silent unrest that made an already somewhat eerie environment that much more uncomfortable.

As the absentmindedly browsed the shelves in relative silence, V shifted in discomfort. He couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something simply wasn’t right, and that he should go with his gut and leave this place before something happened. Although it was basically impossible to predict something like that, V was convinced that the persistent feeling of unrecognizable dread that he felt brewing in the very pit of his stomach was something more substantial than he was allowing himself to believe. And under the guise of trying not to seem silently panicked, he couldn’t help but feel a nameless terror overtake him. This feeling that he felt was familiar in the worst way possible. It reminded him of the train ride back in Lucia’s homeland, the strange subconscious sensation that he was no longer in the driver’s seat in regards to his own cognitive feedback. And the idea that his enemy might be trying to do something, anything at all, was not good. He needed to do something fast.

“I apologize if my being around you alone is subconsciously offputting. I get the impression that you are disturbed, and you probably aren’t sure what that is just yet. Let me assure you that it is in fact, me, and that I am not doing so intentionally.” Sirrus casually reached up and took a can down from a shelf, turning it over in his hands absentmindedly as he studied it to see if it was something that he could use. “But the disturbance that you feel is most certainly tangible. I recognized your specific gifts and aptitudes a while back. You have a heightened sensitivity to certain things. Very useful if utilized correctly.” 

He paused for a moment to look at V, seemingly waiting for him to respond in some way. As he realized that his companion wasn’t speaking, he sighed with bated breath, looking slowly from side to side as he checked to make sure that no one was around them. Not that he needed his eyes to do that. It was more for V’s benefit than his own, in any case. “To someone with a trained eye, abilities like that stick out like a sore thumb, especially when the person in possession of them doesn’t yet know how to control them. But that is not to say that you don’t have amazing potential if only someone were to educate you as to how to do deliberately what already comes to you so naturally.”

“Gifts? What are you…” V paused as he considered what he wanted to say next. Sirrus could see something about him that the rest of the people he knew couldn’t? That was alarming to him for reasons that he couldn’t quite place at the moment. Was he that obvious? What else had he been doing that he just hadn’t noticed was a dead giveaway in regards to his true nature? Could anyone else tell, or was that something specific to Sirrus?

“Your grandfather is the Dark Knight Sparda, yes? I couldn’t help but notice your surname. He was a good man. And he was very powerful. I see things in both you and your brother that I do not see in your older relatives.” He seemed to be speaking carefully as he headed to the center aisle in his search for… whatever it was that he was looking for to cook dinner with. He seemed to notice V’s quiet, well-concealed panic, but the atmosphere had changed notably in the air around them. There was a certain latent hostility to V’s demeanor that hadn’t been there before, and for the first time since he’d arrived in town to carry out his mission, he felt genuinely threatened by someone. While he had indeed encountered resistance, nothing so far had felt so pure, so dynamic in its ability to utterly destroy him, and he got the impression that neither V nor himself truly knew what the young man with the white hair was capable of at that moment. And as exhilarating as that might be under most circumstances, this was far from the case at this moment in time. 

It was time to start explaining himself.

“... Sometimes things skip a generation, carried in latent genes by your forebears. This may be one of those cases. That’s what makes me as powerful as I am in some regards. And it is why we have what I like to call Dry Generations; instances in which nothing particularly interesting happens.” The hostility level didn’t decrease much, and Sirrus took a mental note of that, preparing himself should the worst happen. And he hoped with every fiber of his being that it wouldn’t. Something told him that if he had to resort to that, Vergil wouldn’t appreciate him having to explain it after the fact, and the last thing he wanted to have to do was pry Yamato out of his own chest. Vergil had quite the throwing arm. And as fast as he was, he wasn’t sure he was quite that fast. “But when more interesting individuals are born, well, they are most certainly more… intriguing. You and Nero seem to fit that bill nicely.”

“Are you threatening me?” V asked point-blank, his posture slightly more straight than it had been a moment before. Perhaps without thinking it, V had shifted into a readied stance, unwilling to be taken off guard by any kind of sudden attack. Resorting to this kind of public display of power had to be against some code of ethics or something, but he wasn’t going to stand there and take something like that laying down if it came to it. He needed to make that clear, even if Magnolia probably wouldn’t appreciate him bringing Sirrus to her in the middle of the night filled with puncture wounds from Shadow and several broken bones from a trip off of a local roof, courtesy of Griffon. He just hoped that he wouldn’t need to do that. And although he was somewhat sure that he wouldn’t need to, that didn’t change the fact that he might still need to defend himself.

In a moment of self-awareness, Sirrus shook his head, stepping back slightly as he allowed his head to rest on the edge of the center bin that he stood next to. There was some kind of meat inside of it with a sale sign next to it, but that would only become relevant if they made it out of this encounter in one piece. What a fascinating reaction. I would have never thought that he was capable of actually being overtly aggressive considering his physical state and general disposition. He normally has such a mild mentality.” He thought to himself as he let his arms fall to his sides, wanting to demonstrate as clearly as possible that he was not trying to intimidate V or cause him any harm. One could only imagine what he had been through in his young life, and he wasn’t going to add to that pain and suffering if he could help it. 

Maybe it was simply the demon side of him showing itself a little in that moment as a natural defense mechanism? He knew that they were not entirely human, after all, and he had no idea how much demonic blood ran through his veins. It mattered very little if he was being truthful with himself. His pedigree alone ensured that he was powerful, And that was something he could deeply sympathize with on an extremely personal level. He too carried his own darkness locked away deep within himself, even if it was a different form of it. He couldn’t judge him for the one time he slipped up. Hell, he’d give him a hug if he wasn’t so sure it would get him stabbed through the gut with V’s cane.

“Oh, perish the thought. Not even slightly. I wouldn’t dare. Though I do admit that it probably seems that way.” He watched V relax slightly, at least physically, sliding back into the comfortable leaning position that he was accustomed to associating with him. It made him wonder what the young summoner had been through that had made him this way, or if perhaps it was a one-off fluke reaction to this exact situation. Maybe he could ask him another time when he calmed all the way down. It seemed that he had at least a little bit of his father in him after all. “Quite the opposite though. I am extending an invitation. I would like to help you with that. Now, were you thinking fin or fang in regards to protein for this meal? It seems we have simpler choices to make this time around. But something tells me it won’t always be that way. Darkness looms on the horizon, and I have the feeling that something sinister might be readying itself just out of view.”

V gave him an apprehensive look, unsure as to what to really say to that. This entire conversation had certainly changed his outlook on a few things, to say nothing of how it had nearly taken a turn for the worst. He needed ample time to think things through. He was used to being the logical, level-headed one in situations like this. Something about that conversation had severely taken him out of his element, But at least a few of his questions had been answered, even if more now lingered in the back of his mind. And more importantly, there hadn’t been a public display of supernatural violence that could have destroyed both of them and the building along with them. 

Sighing gently as if to physically rid himself of the toxic experience he had just suffered through, V looked at Sirrus, the both of them somehow knowing that the other regretted what had almost just happened even without saying it. It was best to leave things alone for now and just leave this store. Maybe the building itself was driving them both insane. “Fang.”

(-~-)

Gosh, writing this chapter makes me want to work on the story that I’ve been wanting to write for so long now. But not yet! I don’t pick projects up easily after I walk away from them, so for now, I will wait. There is still much to be done with this AU, but gosh writing Sirrus gets me in the mood for that. Let’s just say he doesn’t originate from this AU universe.

Here is the link to the form! It’s only 4 questions and should take about two minutes to answer. Thank you! You’re a big help to me. I want it to be clear that I’m not making anything from this fic, I just want to do something neat for charity and give you something cool in return.

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1jD0AKYiX3EfLjt-M_Rk8CapJ0GdzVqB-9oDMhV3SG2A/edit?usp=sharing

Sorry for my rambling this week! I’m just excited, I guess! Also, a special thank you to the like 2 people on Tumblr that like my chapters every week. I like your energy =^~^=

[literatehiss]

Ghosts of Past Pain

Day 2 of PeterMartin Week - Home & Melancholia Peter has a funeral to go to, and he doesn’t want to go to Moorland House by himself so he drags martin along for the ride Read on AO3 here

Martin had awoken to a text from Peter and a parcel on this doorstep.

Stumbling through his morning routine, Martin flicked open the message while he waited for the kettle to boil.

Head Idiot (Lukas)

Sent at 05:10 Hello Martin! I have an urgent meeting today and I would like you to come with me.

I have ordered you something so that you don’t stand out too much.

Please be ready and at the institute for 6.

Thanks

Peter

 It did not matter how many times Martin told Peter than he didn’t need to sign his name at the bottom of his texts, the older man still did it.

Martin groaned at the time though, he would have to rush to get there in time. Well there goes his relaxed morning.

He almost forgot the package, until he was almost out the door. He tucked the parcel under his arm and ran down to the underground station that would take him most of the way to the Institute.

He ended up arriving a little early and sat down on the front steps of the building. Using the sharp edge of his keys, Martin cut the tape securing the box closed.

Inside was a coat, long and black. It looked a little like Peter’s, though this one seemed to cut off a little higher, at the knees rather than all the way down to the ankles like Peter’s did.

He did have a coat of his own. A ratty second hand one he had bought with his first pay check from the Institute. It’d had ripped stitches when he bought it and the past few years of use hadn’t helped matters. He shrugged it off and slipped on the one that Peter had bought him.

 It felt expensive.

Knowing the amount of money that Peter was willing to throw around on a single lunch meeting, it probably was more expensive than anything Martin had ever seen.

It was warm and soft and somehow it still didn’t block out the chill of Peter’s arrival.

 “You didn’t need to go to the trouble Peter. My own coat was fine.”

“Maybe. You deserve to have something nice every so often Martin.”

Martin did not know who exactly Peter was trying to fool here.

“And also, we are going to Moorland House and my family will eat you alive if you go in wearing something that cheap. This way they know you’re with me.”

As far as reasons go, this was a pretty good one. Peter was actually thinking something through. Martin was, however, a little nervous at that.

“Why? Um, yeah, why are we going there?”

“Funeral. An uncle I think, I don’t actually know” Peter still sounded unnervingly cheery as he said this.

“Let me re-phrase that Peter. Why am I going?”

Peter didn’t answer, just shuffled Martin into a chauffeured car that just pulled up.

 It wasn’t until they were about half-an-hour out of London that he finally answered. He wasn’t looking at Martin, preferring to stare out the window at the passing countryside.

 “I haven’t been back in quite some time. They aren’t pleased with me, never have been really. Didn’t want to go by myself. And it will do you good, I think. You’ve been to the Institute, you know what a temple of the Eye feels like, but you haven’t felt anything like Moorland.”

Martin was sure that last bit had been tacked on to make Peter feel less self-conscious.

“You’ve sent me to the lonely Peter, surely it couldn’t be any more than that?” Peter hummed in agreement.

“Well yes, but that’s mine. If I entered the lonely and a cousin entered as well, even if we were in the same space we wouldn’t see each other. The lonely you have experienced is effected by me. Moorland is more, well… its the lonely of every generation of Lukas, its more of a mix so no one person effects it. You’ll see when we get there.”

“Wait. So the beach, that’s not standard? That’s just your version of the lonely?”

“Exactly! I have a cousin who’s domain is a long stretch of road at night, and I think one of my nieces had started to be able to manifest a library.”

“A library? That’s a bit Beholding isn’t it?”

“And a night-time road isn’t of the Dark? That my beach couldn’t be considered Vast? The lines aren’t as clean as you might want to think.”

 Martin thought back to the eccentric old man he had met the other day. The one who seemed so fond of Peter.

 “Simon Fairchild must be pleased with that?” Peter was still looking out the window and must have forgotten that Martin could see his face in the reflection of the glass as he smiled, his eyes showing actual fondness for once, rather than his usual fake cheer and dead-eyed cheer.

 “Huh, yeah he is.”

 Martin did not know how he felt about Peter having anything close to normal human emotions and so wrote himself a little mental not and put it on his mental back-burner.

 That seemed to be enough interaction for Peter and he shut up for the rest of the journey no matter how much Martin attempted to start conversation.

 It wasn’t even mid-day by the time they rolled up the driveway of Moorland House. The crunch of the tires on gravel was the only sound around, breaking the unnatural silence.

 Martin could see movement in the graveyard and as he stepped out of the car he expected to be lead over there. Instead Peter pulled him by the elbow into the old house.

 “We are actually a bit early, don’t want to get in the way of the preparations. Come on, everyone who is already hear will be out in the graveyard or milling about the gardens. We should be left alone in here.”

 The house was cold and quiet and heavy in a way Martin had never really experienced. The weight of history and family expectations and generation upon generation of deeply unhappy families. It was a weight that appeared to be affecting Peter quite badly. Martin watched as Peter’s feigned cheer struggled and eventually dropped entirely as Peter lead him around.

 “So which was your room?” martin asked as he ran his fingers over the carved wood of the stari banister.

“Oh we didn’t do that. I didn’t understand the concept of having a single unchanging room until I stayed the weekend at Simon’s once. Every year we would all switch bedrooms. Stopped us getting attached I guess. I remember fighting with one of my sister’s to get my younger brother’s room one year. It had a great view over the gardens.” Martin’s brow furrowed as he looked at Peter with curiosity. The older man looked somehow even paler than usual, his cold stare slipping into a deeply uncomfortable and sad look.

“you have siblings? Will they be here?” martin felt like he knew what the answer would be.

“Ha. No, not anymore. Don’t know where the older two vanished off to, the same way as Evan I suppose, tried to leave and fed the Forsaken all the more for it. The younger two were taken away when I was young, I like to think they were given away to some distant family member, though sometimes I doubt it”

 They eventually came back to the front door and Peter sat down on the cold stone steps. Martin could feel the cold fog of the Lonely start to gather stronger and thicker around Peter. Martin hadn’t considered that Peter didn’t like it here, that his childhood home was nothing more that a museum of bad memories. He looked around to see if they were being watched and then slipped his hand into the same pocket that Peter had shoved one of his, entwining their fingers. Peter looked at him sharply. Martin shushed him quietly.

“Just for now Peter, they don’t need to know. I’m glad you brought me here, it’s beautiful, even if it makes you so sad.” Peter gave his hand a squeeze.

“Thank you Martin. I don’t like coming back here, but I am glad to share this with you.” His melancholic look brightened for a moment. “Once this whole charade is over, I’ll show you some of the grounds. That is where I spent most of my days. I think you will like it, it is very peaceful,” he gave Martin a conspiring nudge, “the sort of place poets go to for inspiration.” Martin flushed at the reminder of his poetry. Before he could retort, he felt Peter quickly remove his hand and walk over to an older man who was walking up to them.

Martin couldn’t hear their conversation but he caught the occasional glance over to him from the stranger. Peter came back and, with a hand on the middle of his back, guided him over to the graveyard.

 Martin didn’t know why exactly Peter needed the comfort of his company.

But as he looked into the cold stares of the Lukas family, those who made Peter look like a warm and welcoming individual, he squared his shoulders and stood by his side.

 He took a deep breath and staring boldly at a man who was glaring at him, he linked his arm with Peter’s. Peter looked shocked but didn’t pull away.

So close to Peter, even surrounded by people who probably hated him, he had never felt safer

[team-science-mega-nerds]

PART ONE HERE & This part is rated M & Play THIS song while you read

In the sanctuary, she can’t find the words. She returns the next night and searches for something to say. Something to offer that explains her discombobulated feelings. She comes up empty and empty isn’t how she wants to feel before she drives all the way to Alex Danvers’ house to find someway to name her need. 

It’s a mistake. 

She knows that from the moment she pulls up the driveway and sees four trucks and two cars already sitting there. Music emits from Alex’s house and just as she thinks about getting back into her car and leaving before anyone knows she’s there, Alex steps out of her house carrying a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. “Hey,” She lights up and approaches. Her legs aren’t as steady as they normally are and when she gets closer and into the warm porch light, Sam notices that Alex’s cheeks are tinted red like she’s been drinking. 

“Hi.” Sam can see a few people moving around and laughing in Alex’s living room. “I can go.”

“You can stay,” Alex offers. “Just a few friends over.” 

“Are you drunk?” Alex laughs and waves her hand around like that’s enough of an answer.

“Getting there.” Alex takes another few drags before stomping out her cigarette. “Come on, my friends like a pretty girl.” As they reach the door and Alex opens it to let Sam pass, she adds, “I do too.” 

“Shut up,” Sam mutters getting a playful laugh from Alex. 

Sam doesn’t expect to find a large group of people playing cards, drinking, and listening to music. These are people she’s never seen before. Sam isn’t used to that kind of unfamiliarity in such a small town. They welcome Sam with open arms. She declines to join in on a poker game and almost regrets it when she realizes that Alex isn’t playing either. “You like music?” 

“Everyone likes music.”

“I mean...not your chorus bullshit or whatever they force you to listen to at church. I mean music.” Alex’s smile is infectious in a way that it’s never been. This time Sam feels like she’s a part of the playfulness. Alex flips through a few LPs and places a vibrant red one on her record player. Music - crooning and wayward music - fills the room. 

Sam is in a trance. Caught up in Alex mouthing the words. A shot glass hits the table and cheers fill the room. There is glory here, even if it’s the tainted kind. Velvet gloves, you still a stunner. Alex’s eyes are on her. Without the protection of a little book filled with many words, Sam feels far too seen. 

Queen of the rodeo. You rode on in with nowhere else to go. 

Sam feels inexplicably warm. The windows are open, summer nights out here feel different than only a few miles away at her own house. One of the poker players stands, grabs Alex’s hands, and presses his body close to hers and they sway softly to the music. They sing the song together, like two old friends catching up after years away. It all comes back easily. 

Stary-eyed, a little younger. The night is long, your days are numbered.

Sam wishes she could be held like that. Not by anyone but Alex. She’d say as much if there weren’t so many people around. Still, Sam finds herself traveling to the coffee table. She grabs a glass and pours herself too much before going to down the shot. Alex grabs her arm before she can knock it back. Beyond this town lies a life much sadder. Babe, I know. Another evening to show.

“What’re you doing?” Alex’s words are slurred more now. Her grip is tight as she pulls Sam away from the crowd and into the hallway. All Sam can feel is Alex’s hand. All she can hear is the song. “You won’t find salvation in that bottle-.”

“You really need to shut up.” 

“I wish you’d make me.” Alex takes the glass out of Sam’s hand and downs the whiskey. “What’d you come out here for?” Alex takes a step back. With her back pressed against the wall, Alex looks like a photograph. Slightly disheveled and handsome enough to call home about. Sam stares and stares. I see you around, still around, still around. Steal the crown. “If you want me, I’m yours.” 

“You’re crazy.” 

“Okay.” 

“This isn’t a game. I’m supposed to be here to help you. To teach you-.”

“And that’s why you keep coming back? That’s why you left your bible here?” Alex crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t think I’m the lonely person here.” Alex touches Sam’s cheek, cradling her in a way that nearly softens Sam’s gaze. Queen of the rodeo. You rode on in with nowhere else to go. “I know you, remember? And I know everybody else in this house. If you want a place to be, then look around you.” 

You know the tune so the words don't matter. Beyond this town lies a life much sadder. “Don’t make me question my faith, Alex. You can ask a lot of me, but not that.” 

“That’s the last thing I want.” Alex looks down the hallway. The poker game is getting louder, nearly rising above the music. “You don’t have to play poker. You don’t have to drink. Just be yourself, okay.” 

“Okay.” Alex grabs her hands. They do little more than move a few inches left and right, Sam pressed against Alex’s body. She takes it all in, all of her. Her smell. Her warm breath. The way Alex smiles against her cheek. Babe, I know. Another evening to show. 

Queen of the rodeo. 

Sam practically sprints out of Alex’s house an hour later. She catches Alex looking at her with such a gentle desire that Sam panics. Sam is counting down the days till Ruby’s return now more than ever. 

The church offers her refuge as always. The conversations she finds there are hollow compared to what she had with Alex. But it’s something. “My neighbors' boy said he saw you driving around the Danvers’ place.” It’s an accusation if she’s ever heard one. In front of the entire women’s bible study no less. 

“She’s a friend,” Sam tells them. They all look on, equally scornful and distrusting. 

“Don’t get too friendly with the likes of her.” 

“I wish someone would tell me why everyone is so harsh on her. She’s been nothing but kind to me.” 

“She’s kind when she wants something. You’re a smart and beautiful woman, I think you can guess why she keeps you around.” Sam shuts up after that. There’s nothing she can say to rid this town of ts prejudice. All she can do is stay behind after bible study, fold her hands, and pray. 

It’s late. Too late to be out alone, even in a church. Sam resigns herself to go home soon. She could use a shower. Anything to wash away the guilt and fear that she constantly feels. It’s footsteps walking down the center aisle that brings Sam back to her present. She doesn’t know whether to smile or laugh when she sees Alex, but her approach is confident. Just enough to give Sam pause. “Fancy meeting you here,” Alex jokes as she slides into the pew beside Sam. “I hear this place has a pretty good sermon on a Sunday morning.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you.” Alex folds her arms in front of herself and closes her eyes. Sam stares. “I bet you’re wondering what I pray about.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

“I pray about love. I pray about finding it, losing it, and wanting to find it again.”  Alex keeps her hands folded. Her head is only slightly bowed. Just enough to mirror Sam. “That’s what life is, isn’t it?” 

“There’s something beautiful about the way you see the world.” 

“Don’t get lost in it.” Alex closes her eyes. “My beauty, I mean.” Praying with Alex turns out to be a revolutionary experience. Alex appears completely unafraid of her taboo presence in the church. The warmth of her body makes Sam resist the urge to move away. Alex smells of nothing but clean linen and sandalwood. “I haven’t seen you in a little bit.” 

“I know.”

“Was it something I did?”

“It’s…” Sam shakes her head, she still doesn’t know what she’s so afraid of admitting. 

“You left your bible again.”

“I can come get it tonight? If you’re not busy.” Alex stands and cracks her knuckles. She looks larger than life standing in the middle of this place. The bright lights - lights too bright for any church - reflect off the stained glass and illuminate Alex in a way that makes Sam terrified of what she might do when she goes to Alex’s house. 

Alex drives with pace and Sam isn’t used to these rural highways enough to follow quite as fast. But Alex lingers near her motorcycle when Sam finally arrives. “You drive like a grandma,” Alex says with a big grin. She pulls out a cigarette and that signals to Sam that it’s 9, which is far too late. “Go ahead in.” 

Sam wishes she could run around the house. Gather up every ounce of information she can find. Something to confirm what everyone in church had been saying. Stay away from her, she’s trouble. But all Sam manages to find is her bible, sitting at the kitchen table next to an ashtray and half-filled glass of water. 

The simple thought of Alex reading Sam’s bible - the one that sits on her nightstand - does something to her. She jolts when the front door opens and closes and Alex enters the kitchen in a waft of cigarette smoke and fresh air and it’s just as confusing and conflicting as Sam has been feeling recently. Alex leans against her counter - making jeans and a plain white shirt look like her own brand of armor. Sam isn’t ready to battle. “Will you read something for me?” Alex nods toward the bible. “Something beautiful. Songs of Solomon, maybe.” 

Sam reaches for her bible, throws it open to a random page in the middle of the chapter. She prepares to be watched and heard in a way that she can never expect of anyone else in her life. She reads and reads. She reads to create a storm big enough to drown them both out. “Let us rise early and go to the vineyards. Let us see whether the vine has budded and its blossoms have opened and whether the pomegranates have bloomed.” Her voice trembles. Alex is still exactly where she has been this whole time, but Sam can feel her. She can feel the change. “There I will give you my love.” Alex gently takes the bible out of Sam’s hands, closes it, and places it on the table. 

“Come here.” As she stands, Sam feels strong hands grab her hips and pull her close. She questions her reaction. The ease with which she gives in and kisses Alex’s lips and tastes smoke and yearning. Sam is lifted and her legs wrap around Alex’s hips. She thinks, with a sense of finality, that they’re going to Alex’s bedroom. When Sam feels her back touch the floor she feels her whole body respond with reverence. 

To be wanted in this way builds fire between them. 

When Alex moves to her neck, Sam resists the urge to just let it happen. That’s how she’d experienced pleasure before, a vessel for someone else’s lust and power. She grinds against Alex’s pant leg, her want and desire clear, as are the muffled sounds she makes against Alex’s mouth. “Can I touch you?” Sam nods her head, aware of the fact that Alex’s hands have been wandering and seeking permission to go further. “Sam?” Alex pulls back and looks her in the eyes. Sam feels flush and faint and she never wants to be apart from Alex ever again. “Can I touch you?” She asks again. 

“Yes, please.” Sam thinks that she should know what to expect. With the way things have grown so frenzied between them, she expects something fast. Something that leaves her craving more of Alex. But Alex is slow. Fingers moving in and out with something that Sam can only describe as languid. Sam notices that Alex is moving so slow because she’s watching her. Watching Sam’s lips part and eyes roll back and they rock against the kitchen floor. “Fuck.” 

“I could listen to you say that forever,” Alex whispers in her ear as she picks up the pace. Sam completely loses herself in Alex’s arms. She scratches and clings to Alex’s shirt, hoping that her message is clear. Take me, please have me. “You feel good,” Alex tells her as she pushes deeper. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alex coaxes. Clearly, she can feel Sam’s orgasm coming. 

Sam is taken by surprise. 

Alex holds Sam in her arms. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m…” Sam closes her eyes and manages to stand on wobbly legs. “I should go.” Alex doesn’t beg her to stay. Sam doesn’t expect nor does she want it. That would be far too difficult to walk away from. She’s nearly happy that she left. Happy enough to drive home, at least. But not happy that her legs shake as she showers and certainly nowhere near content as she climbs into her bed and can still feel Alex between her legs. 

Sam is thankful that the next day is Sunday. It gives her an excuse for everything. She wakes up early, fixes herself a decent breakfast, and puts on her Sunday best. She doesn’t care much for standing out but she cares about being on time. She enjoys the simple greetings, seeing kids hurry off to Sunday school, while all the adults file into the sanctuary. Her hand trembles, ever so slightly, when she finds herself sitting in the spot where she and Alex were just the night before. 

The hush that comes over the crowd is palatable. Sam jerks her head up in time to see Alex walking down the aisle and finding a seat near the back alone. Her hair is neatly combed, she’s wearing dress pants, and the button-up is the cleanest thing Sam has ever seen her in. If Sam was braver she’d join her. Instead, Sam listens to her pew neighbors yammering on about ‘the nerve of her’. 

The sermon is shorter than usual. She suspects it has to do with the way the Pastor keeps staring at the back of the church, right at Alex. When it’s over, Sam doesn’t sit and marvel at the stained glass windows or talk and seek out a slice of cake in the kitchen, she practically sprints outside. 

“...what’d you just say to me?” Sam wishes she could get there before Alex throws a punch, but grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the scuffle is all that Sam can manage. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam yells before she somehow ends up on the back of Alex’s motorcycle. Everyone is looking at them and a man has a bloody nose, Sam isn’t sure that she can ever go to church again. 

Sam holds onto Alex too tight as they drive. It’s terrifying, yet refreshing, and Sam doesn’t even realize her eyes are closed until they’re pulling up to Alex’s house and Alex hops off the bike, doubled over laughing. “God, I’ve missed church.” 

“You’re crazy.” Sam smiles at the way Alex can’t seem to control her laughter and her cheeks keep puffing out before she begins cackling again. “You’re a jerk. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m having fun, sue me.” 

“Everyone couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“I noticed,” Alex tells her as she finally calms down. “I also noticed that you didn’t look at me once.” Alex grabs her bag off the back of her bike, unzips it, and wiggles out a war-torn bible. “I had to go into my family storage unit to find this.” 

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Alex stands there awkwardly for a moment. It’s the first time Sam has truly seen her uncertain. “If you want to forget about what happened last night…”

“I wouldn’t know how to forget it even if I wanted to.” Sam takes a deep breath, “which I don’t.”

“Are you hungry? I’ve got...I dunno, something in the fridge, I’m sure.” When they get inside, Sam sees that Alex does have plenty in her fridge, but she doesn’t seem to know what to do with any of it. Sam is more than happy to take over. Alex doesn’t quite know what to do with herself, so she plays some music and makes ice tea and hovers around the kitchen nervously. “This is erotic.”

“What?” Sam nudges Alex’s arm. 

“Cooking is sexy.” 

“Your mother should’ve washed your mouth out with soap, you know. You don’t know how to behave.” 

“You can teach me how to behave.” Alex rests her hand on the small of Sam’s back. Sam is reminded of what those hands are capable of and she starts to blush so much that Alex actually pushes her hair back behind her ear, just so she can see the effects of her flirtation. “I can teach you how to behave too.” 

“You’re bold.” 

“Yeah, but you like that about me.” 

Lunch is wonderful. They bench talking about religion and instead find themselves arguing furiously over the best restaurant in town. Alex does not back down, ever. Sam enjoys what little leeway she has because she has apparently made a wonderful meal. 

There’s also touching. There are no accidents between them. Alex touches Sam’s forearms and briefly wiggles around Sam’s earlobe. Sam grips Alex’s thigh for all of a minute and flicks her nose. These are their codes for permission and after lunch, while Alex is cleaning the dishes, Sam picks at her thumb and finally asks, “How big is this house?” 

“Uh…” Alex dries a cup and throws the towel over her shoulder. “Four bedrooms, two and a half baths.” 

“Can I get a tour?” 

“If you want.” Alex shuts off the faucet and abandons the rest of the dishes in favor of leading Sam down the hallway and showing her a small bedroom. “This used to be mine. I moved into a bigger room when I was thirteen. That’s where all the trouble started.”

“I keep hearing about all this trouble, but no one has really told me what it is.” 

“I had sex with the pastor’s daughter,” Alex says nonchalantly. “More than once.” 

“Wow.” Sam laughs. “Okay.”

“No big deal. I like that kind of trouble.” Alex shows her the next room. “The fun kind, you know.” Sam does know. She knows enough that when they get to the master bedroom, which is now Alex’s room, Sam kisses Alex. “You sure?” Alex asks. 

“I’m sure.” Sam kisses and guides Alex back, and soon Alex’s legs hit her bed and she sits, eyes going wide as Sam kneels in front of her. Sam unbuckles Alex’s belt and discards it behind her. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Alex assures her. 

“I really want to.” Sam starts tugging off Alex’s pants. “Tell me if I’m doing it right.” Alex pulls off her underwear but before Sam can touch her, Alex kisses her. Tongues and teeth biting and exploring. Sam can feel her body react to the way Alex is holding the back of her neck. When Alex pulls back, Sam can see just how much her pupils have dilated. There’s urgency as she holds Sam’s neck tighter and tries not to push her to where she wants her. 

Sam gets the hint.

Tasting Alex isn’t like anything Sam has ever experienced. She loves the way Alex teases and grabs her hair. She knows she’s doing good and Alex mumbles as much. Sam can feel how wet she’s getting just from hearing the way Alex whispers fuck and pulls her head closer. Sam wants desperately to look up at Alex but she’s nervous. Afraid the mumbles and groans are a farce. A way to placate Sam’s desires. When she finally does glance up at Alex, she’s already looking back. “I’m close,” Alex pulls Sam’s mouth even closer and moves her hips just enough to finally cum. “Jesus.” Alex leans her head back and takes a few deep breaths. 

“Was it okay?” 

“Fucking amazing.” Alex pulls Sam up and onto the bed with her and kisses her again. This time, she’s less insistent about biting and more insistent about pulling Sam’s underwear down. “Can we try something?” 

“...maybe.” 

“Stay right here.” Alex stands and tugs off her shirt and bra and goes into her closet. When she returns she’s holding some kind of leather harness attached to a…

“Oh.” Sam draws blanks for what to say. All she can think about is how hot Alex will look wearing that and how good it’ll feel for her. “We could try.” Sam’s attempts at being coy fly out the window, as she watches Alex put the harness on and walk over with enough confidence to let Sam know that Alex has certainly done this before. 

The way Alex manages to easily lift Sam up - again - and lay her down on the bed is heartstopping. Sam gives into another flurry of kisses. Alex bites her neck, it’s bruising and makes Sam gasp just enough to quell the intense shudder she feels when Alex pushes inside her. “Tell me when I can move,” Alex pulls the straps of Sam’s dress down enough so that she can unhook Sam’s bra. Her mouth does things to Sam that she will remember for the rest of her life. “Alex, please…”

“Please what?” 

“Fuck me, please.” Unlike before, when Alex was testing out the boundaries and doing her best to go slow, today she moves their hips together with reckless abandon. Sam holds onto Alex, scratching her back, grabbing her face and letting Alex swallow her moans. “Harder.” Alex laughs against her neck and runs her thumb along Sam’s bottom lip. 

“Be patient, sweetheart.” Alex pulls back and Sam groans at the loss of contact. And then - so fast that Sam hardly realizes it’s happening - Sam is on her stomach, with Alex behind her. “Is this alright?”

“Absolutely,” Sam says. The angle is better like this. Alex can go deeper and when Alex wraps her arm around Sam’s neck, just enough to feel possessive, Sam knows she’s a goner. Alex’s stamina is impressive and Sam is surprised she’s lasted this long with the way Alex has been going. “Harder, I’m close.” Alex listens to her. She goes faster and harder and deeper, all the while nipping at Sam’s neck. 

“I want you to cum, baby,” Alex tells her. “Cum for me, okay.” So Sam does. Again and again, and Alex doesn’t stop rocking her hips. Sam gets totally lost in her bliss, in the way she and Alex seem to fit so perfectly. 

The end isn’t really the end. Alex takes off the harness and holds Sam in her arms. They kiss like two kids trying not to get caught in the back of a movie theater. There’s laughter and plenty of it. Sam is still trying to catch her breath and Alex is gently kissing the hickeys on Sam’s neck. “You felt really good,” Sam admits, Alex’s smile tells Sam that she already knows. “God, Alex, I...I don’t do things like this.” 

“I know.” 

“Was it just…” Sam motions to the bed. “Something you thought would be fun?”

“It’s more than that.” Alex sits up so Sam can see her face. “I like spending time with you.” 

“You’ll get bored of me,” Sam assures her. 

“I might get comfortable with you if that’s what you mean. But bored? Not a chance.” 

“You’re sweet.” Sam nuzzles closer to Alex. “Maybe misguided too.” Alex holds her close and kisses her shoulder. “I have a daughter. I’m a teacher at the high school. I just don’t know if…”

“Did everyone get in your head about me?”

“No.” 

“They must have.”

“It’s not like that. What I’m trying to say is I don’t know where I fit into your life. I think it’s fun for you when I’m just this woman who believes too strongly in a thing that seems to have driven you away but...do you actually want to test this out? As in...something beyond the bedroom?”

“Yeah, I do.” Alex looks toward the window for a moment. “I need to take care of some things out there. Feel free to stay, if you’d like.”

“I might take a nap.” 

“I wore you out, huh?” Sam nudges Alex off the bed and Alex laughs all the way out of the room. Sam snoops - just a little - and changes into a warm oversized shirt. Sam hasn’t felt quite at home anywhere, let alone Wyoming, until right now. 

Sam will pick up Ruby from camp tomorrow. It’ll be a relief in one sense but also somewhat of a reckoning for these past few weeks. 

She doesn’t sleep. She watches Alex go in and out of the barn for a while before heading into the kitchen and finishing up the dishes. She feels particularly domestic and it doesn’t feel wrong. Sam is delighted by the fact that none of this feels wrong. “You look good in that,” Alex says from the kitchen door. 

“Sorry, I…”

“It’s okay. I like it.” Alex tugs off her work boots and sets them by the front door. 

“It’s getting late, I should…” Sam looks down at her bare legs. “Do you have some sweatpants I can borrow?”

“Yeah.” Alex disappears down the hallway and returns moments later with Sam’s clothes neatly folded and sweatpants that say East Clinton High down the side. Sam tugs them on and smiles at the way Alex looks at her. “So...I’m thinking.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah, ‘uh oh’.” Alex scratches the back of her neck. “Maybe I should meet your kid.” Sam’s eyes widen. “No pressure, but...well, I figure that’d be the test anyway. And we obviously have incredible chemistry.”

“According to you.” 

“According to the way you moaned my name, actually.” Sam would shove Alex again if she was closer. “Look...I like you. I want you to give me a chance. So, whenever you’re ready - if you’re ready - my door is always open.” It sounds like a beautiful speech to end a brief summer fling. Alex walks Sam to her car, kisses her hand, and waves goodbye.

[lvanter]

in the light ; yang jeongin

pairing; jeongin x reader

word count; 1.3k

genre; high school au, fluff

warnings; none??? i think

description; jeongin needs to find jisung. he finds him in the auditorium along with the love of his life

note; y/l/n: ur last name just in case uwu

“where is he? where is he? where is he?” jeongin whispered to himself as he walked down the school hall

he needed to find felix.

felix who forgot to give back jeongins history notes

he saw hyunjin and seungmin standing by hyunjins locker, trying to clean it out a bit

“hyung!” jeongin exclaimed jogging up to them

hyunjin and seungmins both turned to look at the younger boy.

“what’s up, innie?” hyunjin asked while ruffling jeongins hair

“have any of you seen felix hyung?”

hyunjin shook his head, while seungmin nodded

“yeah i saw him in chemistry earlier today, why?”

jeongin sighed, that didn’t help much

“he just forgot to give me my history notes back.

“oh, sorry innie i haven’t seen him since then”

hyunjin scrunched his nose

“why don’t you check the auditorium, i’m pretty sure he said he had to help jisung with the lights”

“okay, thanks hyung. i’ll check the there” jeongin said before running down the hall

“the auditorium” he mumbled opening the door

he walked down towards the stage

but he only got half way before his eyes fell on you

jeongin stopped

you were standing in the middle of the stage, talking with jisung.

you,,, wow holyshit

(´｡• ω •｡`) ♡ jeongins in love (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡

you just looked so eathreal. standing right under the light.

jeongin was mesmerized

“wow” he whispered to himself in awe

suddenly jisung saw him standing there, staring

“JEONGIN! HEY” jisungs loud ass yelled and waved at him

you looked in jeongins direction

wanting to see what made jisung yell this time

‘fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do what do i do’ -jeongins brain, when u looked at him

here’s what he did

he bolted out of the auditorium. yeah :/ maybe not the best idea

“who was that?” you asked jisung confused

“jeongin, hes one of my best friends!”

“oh okay” - chris bang chan

jeongin on the other hand ran into the boys bathroom and locked himself in a stall

“holy shit” he said as quietly as possible, not wanting anyone to hear him.

he put his hand over his heart. it was beating fast mainly because he just ran so much

“i didn’t even get my notes-“

later that evening, jeongin was sitting in his room. he was supposed to be studying - and he was trying in the beginning, trust me, but he just had to know who you were

so there he was, sitting on his bed, surrounded by notes, which he got back looking through last years yearbook, trying to find you.

“there!” he exclaimed louder than intended.

‘y/n y/l/n’

“y/n” he said in awe.

how are u so pretty omg, no one should be that pretty. what the fuck do u think ur doing

jeongin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. this was gonna be a long night

like next week ٩(◕‿◕)۶

the first thing jeongin saw when he walked into history class, was felix trying to do a handstand up against the wall, jisung standing beside him giving encouragement, hyunjin laughing at them and seungmin filming it

the second thing he saw was you sitting next to the window looking at something outside

wait

what

since when the fuck have you been in his history class

damn ur sitting next to the window

the light hitting ur face making you look angelic

“jeongin. JEONGIN” hyunjin tried to get jeongins attention

“what?”

“you’ve been staring at y/n for the last 5 minutes,,,,,you okay”

jeongin blinked “yeah yeah i’m-i’m okay”

history class went by with jeongin looking (read: staring) at you and not being able to concentrate

“i so failed this test” felix complained while walking out of the classroom

“so did jeongin” seungmin stated like it was a fact

jeongin looked at him “u don’t know that?????????????”

“u spend pretty much the entire class staring at y/n. so i’m p p sure you failed the test” hyunjin agreed with seungmin

dammit he was caught

“w-what i-i did-didn’t stare at y-y/n. that’s- that’s ridiculous”

hyunjin and seungmin rolled their eyes at him but left him alone

“jisung?” a soft voice said from behind jeongin, making the boys turn around

“Y/N!!!” jisung shouted even through u were standing right in front of him

“are you still helping this afternoon?”

“Yes, i am” jisung said energetically. “have you met my friends??????”

“you have friends??” “no haven’t”

“this is felix, that’s hyunjin, that’s seungmin and the one that looks like a baby is jeonginnie”

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh jisssuuunnng why did you have to describe him as a baby

“hi i’m y/n” u waved at them

goddamnit y/n why is ur wave so cute?????????????

“nice to meet you” seungmin said w a small smile

“we know u” hyunjin snickered. “jeongin was stari-OW jeongin what the h*ck”

‘how did he censor h*ck irl??????????’

u were so confused,,,,,,,,                         ”what??”

“NOTHING!!!!” jeongin shouted before he could stop himself. “nothing it’s nothing”

“,,,,,,,,,,,,,, okayyy???     i,,,, really have to go now,,,,it was nice meeting u all,,,,,,”

“i’ll see you in the auditorium!!!!” jisung said smiling as always

“see ya” then u walked off

“OW WILL YOU STOP FUCKING HITTING ME” hyunjin yelled

“you almost exposed me!!!????????NO i wont stop hitting you” jeongin said with a glare

before any of them could say more they heard changbins voice “there u are. whats up? why are u just standing here??”

“jeongin has a crush~~~~~~~~~~~~” felix giggled

changbin raised an eyebrow “on who?”

“u know y/n??????” - jisung

“yeah???”

“thats his crush~~~~~~~~~~”

changbin nodded slowly “good luck with that. theyre very popular and get confessions all the time”

jeongin is staring at changbin like ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ  

“th-theyre popular?????????????????????????????”

“??????????????????????????????????????yes??????????????? u didnt know????????????????????????????????”

“???????????????no??????????????how was i supposed to know?????????????????????”

“well maybe if u actually listend to what people are talking about, you would notice that y/ns name gets mentioned a lot. like a lot, a lot”

“oh”

the rest of the day jeongin listened to what the other students were talking about

and true enough he heard ur name a lot. like a lot, a lot

from “how does y/n look so good in this ugly ass uniform”

to “y/n smiled at me earlier today and,,,,i think im in love”

jeongin groaned and laid his head on the table. “theyll never like me,,,”

he was in the library

“jeongin?”

jeongin froze not daring to look up yet

“jeongin?” u asked again this time a little louder

this time he looked up “y-yes?”

he felt like he couldnt breath for a second when his eyes met yours

“ah um jisung said youre good at science”

u looked ?????????? nervous????????????

“ah i guess i am yes”

i was true he was good at science. it was his best subject

“could” u took a deep breath “could u maybe help with it?”

jeongin gulped “y-yeah sure i can help you with that”

u smiled “thank u so much jeongin”

jeongin seeing u smile: (♡°▽°♡) (♡°▽°♡)

“and maybe” u looked down nervoulsy “would you like to go on,,,,,,,a date,,,, with   me?”

jeongin froze “y-y-you wa-want to go on a-a dat-date with m-m-me???”

“yes” u mumbled still looking down

this was the first time you asked anyone out

you didnt ask people out

people asked You out

jeongin was malfunctioning

“u know what forget i asked” u said about to walk out when jeongin grabbed ur wrist

“no no no no no i would love to go on a date with you” jeongin said maybe a bit too fast for you to understand

he took a deep breath and looked into ur eyes

smksdnjfnaksdadsn

“i would love to go on a date with u”

he said with a very very cute smile making u go asnsmdnjshbdvjhabdjfhbajdhbhsbdjhbasjdhbjashdbjhsa

the end

yikes

u both went on the date and when the guys found out about it they cried

[srsly-blck]

isn’t that SIRIUS BLACK? yeah that is HIM, sitting there at the GRYFFINDOR table with those other SIXTH years and i think i heard sybill saying they look like LANDON LIBOIRON… whoever that is! when she looks into her crystal ball she sees worn down leather jackets and ripped jeans, cigarettes barely hanging onto lips, bruised knuckled and skinned knees, nightmare filled sleep, the clear stary sky, forced smiles and sad eyes, a boy stuck between worlds.  anyway i’ve heard they’re pretty HOT-HEADED, STUBBORN, and LOYAL. apparently they’re a PUREBLOOD but i’m sure that’s not related.

{tw for abuse mention}

Basic Info:

Full Name : Sirius Orion Black

Nicknames : Siri, Padfoot, Black, 

Age : 17

Date of Birth : November 2nd, 1959

Zodiac : Scorpio

Blood Status : Pureblood

Pronouns : He/Him

Orientation : Straight

House : Gryffindor

Animagus : Dog

Boggart : Regulus with a dark mark on his arm

Patronus : Dog shocker

Pet :  he used to own an Owl named Archimedes but since he got left at Grimmauld he uses the schools owls now

Quidditch : Beater

Positive Traits : Outgoing, Charming, Honest, Loyal, Intelligent, Compassionate,

Negative Traits : Hot-headed, Stubborn, Small-minded, Arrogant, Disruptive, Loud, Insecure

CHILDHOOD:

Born on November 1st 1959 to Orion and Walburga Black, Sirius was privileged since birth. Being the heir to one of the more respected Pureblood families meant that there was a giant weight on his shoulders and he felt that from a very young age. Ever since he could talk he was told how to act and what was respectable behaviour in his parent’s eyes. He never really got the chance to be a child. And he’s always resented the Pureblood community for that.

But he tried his best to stay out of trouble. Even as he sat at family events bored out his mind he knew better than to misbehave. It wasn’t worth his mother’s wrath. He was a fairly quiet kid. Other than a few snarky remarks here and there he really didn’t give his parents a reason to believe he would be anything other than the perfect heir they were raising him to be.

It was exceptionally lonely, however. Other than his brother and his cousins he didn’t have that many friends. And living at Grimmauld Place was extremely isolating. He couldn’t just go out and play with the nearby kids cause they were “filthy muggles” according to his Mother. Some might question why his family choose to live beside muggles if they were apparently beneath them but Sirius never did.

Growing up his father was the person he looked up to the most. He loved spending time with him. And his main goal when he was little was to hear his father say he was proud of him.

He never did.

Having spent most of his younger years surrounded by Pureblood that all had the same beliefs on Purty as his parents Sirius’s view on others was somewhat swayed by them. But, as he grew older, he started to question why exactly where they better than others? Yes, their blood was more “pure” but he didn’t really understand why that made them any superior. He spent more of his free time reading and a lot of the books he read were by Half-Bloods or Muggle-borns and they seemed just as intelligent as any Pureblood he knew. It was confusing to him. But he made sure to never question it out loud.

HOGWARTS:

Sirius’ first day at Hogwarts was both the best and worst day of his life so far.

It was the best day because he met three people that would soon mean the world to him: James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. All three of them would play an important part in how Sirius became who he ultimately was supposed to be. They taught him there was more to life than Pureblood galas and acting like the respectable Pureblood male who’s only job in life is to make sure he carries on the family name. They taught him to have fun, they brought out his mischievious side and brought him out of his shell. Some might argue that Sirius becoming more confident is a bad thing. But Sirius wouldn’t change it for the world.

It was the worst day because he got sorted into Gryffindor.  And then the spiral of real hate from his parents began.

He knew from the second the hat shouted out Gryffindor that he was in trouble. He couldn’t remember a member of his family that wasn’t in Slytherin and so he had made his way to the lion’s table with trembling hand. He had hoped he would have at least some time to deal with the sorting on hs own. But the very next morning he had a letter from his mother saying how this must be a mistake. That he doesn’t belong in Gryffindor and that they would sort it. But, deep down he knew he did belong there. Deep down he knew he wasn’t like his family, he just didn’t want to admit it. And so he had ignored the letter and when McGonogal had spoken to him about it the next day he told her everything was fine and he was happy being in Gryffindor.

He sometimes regretted that decision even to this day.

His parents were always rather...physical, when it came to punishments. But over the years they have gotten worse and worse to the point Sirius stopped going home during Christmas. But, summers he couldn’t avoid. And he would often go back to school each year with new bruises and even a few new scars. He tried to hide them though. That was always a conversation he never wanted to have. And, honestly, as long as his parents anger was focused on him and not his brother then he could handle it.

Something seemed to change in Sirus’s mind the longer he was at Hogwarts. The more time he spent with other wizard and witches from different backgrounds the more he realised that his families views were ridiculous. And with the war brewing, he knew he’d have an important choice on his hands. He’d have to choose between the friends he has made and the family that could destroy him if he left.

The choice came the summer before the start of his sixth year. His parents had finally had enough of his antics and sat him down to tell him they had decided he was to join the Death Eaters and finally make them proud. He was told that Voldemort would be happy to have the Black heir on his side and that he would be joining the war on his side. For the first time in his life, Sirius was terrified. And he didn’t even think before he left in the middle of the night with just a bag of clothes and the money he had hidden in his room. He ran to the Potters who had happily took him in.

Sirius is still trying to adjust to being disowned. He was used to unlimited money and to basically get whatever he wanted. And instead, he has to watch every galleon he spends and once that was gone he knew he’d actually have to get a job. Though his version of not having a lot of money is still a lot to some people. 

He doesn’t regret it though. He never told anyone exactly why he had run away. Though he had told his friends enough about his parents, and family in general, that he allowed them to come to their own conclusions and he doesn’t deny anything. But even though he felt hatred for those he was meant to call family he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone the truth. That betrayal was too much for him.  And he didn’t want anyone knowing that his family were so lost in the wrong side they had officially joined The Dark Lords fight. He still had enough family pride to not let anyone go into Azkaban just for his spite.

Wanted Connections:

friends - other than the marauders obvs

sibling like relationships

family friend - could still be on good terms or they could have heard of sirius’ disowning and turn their backs on him too

unlikely friendship - could be that they have been friends since they were little and even though they are polar opposites they just get on so well that they can’t not be friends

first love

ex on good terms 

ex on bad terms

casual hook up ( past or present ) 

enemy - they have never gotten along and they will never get along and both are okay with this

frenemy - they hate each other but they are also kinda cool and if they hung out that would be awesome????

anything angsty tbh

[hungline]

delights of december

pairings: taegikook, jihope, namjin  genre: fluff, angst, xmas and new year’s eve au, rated m  warnings: selective mute!jeongguk, mentions of past abuse, a panic attack, mild sexual content near the end   a/n: written for @joonphases​ as part of the jihope bingo secret santa fic exchange of 2016!  words: 6500 

summary: Yoongi has a hard time dealing with his two boyfriends who act like children when it comes to the holidays, but he loves them regardless of how many Santas Taehyung had bought and demanded he set up in their yard. At least he has Jeongguk there to catch him if he falls. 

Jimin is crap at feelings and doesn’t want to take a chance on love until there’s no way he can deny how he feels for the man who lights up his whole world with just one smile. 

Namjoon just wants to wait before he and his husband take anymore big steps in their relationship. Although they always seem to be fighting, Namjoon is sure that he still loves the man he met all those years ago in primary school when they were both just kids. 

// 

Or, three relationships create friction at a Christmas party and things fall apart only so they can be put back together again. 

If there was anything that Yoongi cherished most in the world, it was Taehyung and Jeongguk.

Because of this, it came as no surprise when Yoongi was seen on the roof of their newly-bought home setting up a row of seven Santa blow up dolls in the first few days of December. It didn’t matter that there was already ten identical Santa dolls scattered around the front yard accompanied by the occasional reindeer hooked up to sleighs either. If anyone had been paying attention to the two younger men decked out in ugly holiday sweaters and Christmas-themed hats who were holding the ladder which Yoongi was climbing, then they would in an instant understand why the house at the end of the block was decked out in over three hundred and seventy five thousand won worth in Christmas decorations.

“Hyung! Are you done yet?” Yoongi was only able to make out Taehyung’s voice below him because the younger had screeched out his question.

Yoongi cautiously approached the edge of the roof and scowled down at Taehyung whose ears were overshadowed by the large elf ears of his hat. “Almost. You know, I would’ve finished an hour ago if you and Gukkie-ah were up here with me and helped me set up these damn dolls, so unless you two are going to come up here, learn to be patient, Taehyung-ah!”

Jeongguk nervously bit his lip as Yoongi continued to lean over the edge of the roof, but he took a calming breath and pushed his Santa hat back so it covered his ears again when Taehyung’s hand came to rest on the small of his back, pulling him closer to the brown-haired man’s side.

“Hyung, could you just hurry up and get back down here? Gukkie-ah is getting anxious,” Taehyung shouted up at the eldest once more.

Yoongi’s scowl deepened. “You’re not the one who’s up here fixing these damn Santas.”

"And you’re not the one who’s dealing with a freaked out, panicking Jeongguk, hyung.” Taehyung added the honorific for the sake of his own benefit because he didn’t want to get throttled by a pissed off Yoongi.

“I’m almost done, alright? I just need to plug in the last Santa and then I’ll come down,” Yoongi’s tone of voice softened by a large margin when he directed his words towards the youngest whose large, doe eyes were blown wide from anxiety.

Jeongguk nodded, saying nothing, but the frown lines on his face disappearing spoke volumes. Yoongi gave his boyfriends a small smile before turning back to the last Santa Claus doll that he’d been busy setting up before Taehyung had interrupted him. His face felt numb due to the bite of the cold that he’d been enduring for the past three hours and his gloves had lost the battle against the snow about an hour or so earlier and now the cloth was drenched enough that he could barely feel his fingers. The squelch of his wet socks in his boots that sounded every time he took a step caused a sharp feeling of discomfort to ricochet through his nervous system. Yoongi did his best to ignore how weary he was feeling, but in all honesty, he just wanted to cuddle up on the couch with his two boyfriends, drink hot chocolate, and watch some dumb Christmas movie that Jeongguk had picked out to sate the need to celebrate their first Christmas spent together in the same home somehow. It didn’t help that Taehyung had planned a party for Christmas Eve and invited all their friends and neighbors. Yoongi sighed and quickly finished with the last Santa Claus of their almost endless supply that Taehyung had splurged on back in April when they were on sale at a yard sale in Busan.

“I’m coming down!” Yoongi shouted to the pair below. “Hold the ladder!”

With every step down, Yoongi felt his arms turn into jelly. His grip on the ladder was slipping, but he forced himself to latch on tightly anyway. He only began to loosen his grip when he was five feet up from the ground. He took another step down, slipped on the rung of the ladder, and almost got his foot caught in the rung below it in a position that definitely would have injured his ankle had Jeongguk not caught him as quickly as he did.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk’s voice was breathless, tight, and filled with worry.

Yoongi felt his hands roughly grasp onto the younger’s jacket. “Holy shit.”

“Are you alright? Hyung?” Taehyung appeared in Yoongi’s peripheral vision and the elder felt Taehyung’s large, smooth hands flutter all along his front, searching to soothe any injury that Yoongi might have gotten during his short fall.

“I’m fine. Nothing broken or sprained,” Yoongi pulled himself closer to Jeongguk’s chest, allowing Taehyung to curve around them both. “I’m okay.”

Jeongguk stood stiffly, his arms holding Yoongi and his face nestled into the back of Taehyung’s hair, breathing in his calming scent. Adrenaline was swirling through his veins, brought on by catching Yoongi as soon as he had slipped, and it was difficult for his lungs to take in oxygen. He was fighting to keep his anxiety at bay, but it wasn’t working. Jeongguk screwed his eyes shut, bit his lip, and let out a small whimper when Yoongi’s hands raised to cup the nape of his neck. He knew he shouldn’t have let the elder climb up the roof by himself and set up the Santa Clauses that Taehyung had bought. To hell with Christmas decorations if they violated Yoongi’s safety. Of course, both he and Taehyung loved Christmas with all their might, but they loved Yoongi even more.

“Gukkie-ah, look at me,” Yoongi murmured, watching Jeongguk slowly pull his face out of Taehyung’s hair.

The elder cupped his face and Jeongguk felt a violent shiver roll down his spine before Yoongi spoke, “I’m fine, Gukkie-ah. Really. Thank you for catching me.”

Taehyung nuzzled his nose into Jeongguk’s neck and Yoongi raised himself a bit to softly press a kiss to the anxious boy’s lips, mumbling small assurances and words of gratitude into his skin. Jeongguk felt himself begin to breathe again.

Later when Yoongi had persuaded Jeongguk to put him back on his own feet and finally finished setting up the last of the decorations, Yoongi stood on their door step with the last two extension cords in his hands. Taehyung stood beside him, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement while Jeongguk stood on Yoongi’s other side, a small smile on his lips, but his fingers tangled firmly into the material of Yoongi’s jacket.

Jeongguk watched as Yoongi connected the last two cords and everything he’d set up in the yard lit up. Though the youngest of the three was twenty five, they all felt like children again as they gazed upon the bright lights.

Too bright.

As quickly as the entire yard had come to life, it died just as fast when the entire street short circuited and all the lights on the block went out.

The trio stood in their doorstep, Yoongi still clutching to the cords in his hands and staring out at the rest of the street with his boyfriends beside him. There was no doubt that they were in shock.

Jeongguk was the first to laugh. Yoongi joined in soon after, but Taehyung only blinked and shoved the other two into the house when the neighbors began to gather on their lawn with angry voices and red faces directed at them.

  Never once in a million years did Hoseok think he would ever see the seemingly callous Min Yoongi dressed up as Santa Claus for the occasion of hosting his own Christmas party. He’d have expected it of Taehyung who was dressed up as an elf and tending to all the guests in turn. He definitely would have expected it of Jeongguk who was dressed up as a casual looking Santa Claus and was currently clinging onto Yoongi’s arm, refusing to let go. But he never would have guessed that Yoongi would get into the holiday and partake in the festivities of his own free will.

Hoseok guessed that Kim Taehyung had blackmailed his older boyfriend into wearing the ridiculous costume.

He was only further proven right when he pushed through the throng of people in the living room and approached the older man in question.

“Hey, hyung. Nice outfit. It’s good to see you actually get into the holidays for once,” Hoseok guffawed, nodding at Jeongguk who was staring back at him with a humorous smile on his face.

Before Yoongi could respond, Jeongguk had already spilled the beans. “Taehyung made him.”

Yoongi scowled, but nodded when Hoseok turned to stare at him once more, silently asking for confirmation. Hoseok burst into a fit of giggles and had to take a step back to avoid Yoongi’s swinging arm.

“Yah! Would you shut it? Where’s your boyfriend anyway?” Yoongi grumbled while Jeongguk tucked him securely into his arms.

“Boyfriend?"

Yoongi stared at him, exasperated. “Your boyfriend. You know, orange hair, shorter than me, chubby cheeks, small hands, nice ass. Name rhymes with Simin. Does that ring any bells?”

“...Jimin?” Hoseok ventured.

“Yes. Your boyfriend.”

“Why do you know that he has a nice ass? Have you been staring at it, hyung?”

“That’s besides the point. Now, is Jimin your boyfriend or not?”

“Jimin isn’t my boyfriend.”

“What?” The startled response came from Jeongguk.

Hoseok stared at the two Santas in front of him, barely noticing the party that was going on around them. “Jimin is not my boyfriend. Why would you think that he is?”

“You two agreed to kiss when the ball drops on New Year’s. How does that not just scream boyfriends?” Yoongi asked, his expression mirroring the startled one Jeongguk wore.

“Yeah. As friends. Friends can kiss each other without having to be romantically involved,” Hoseok explained.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Just like friends can ‘jokingly’ say they’d give each other head after one of them got stood up on a date.”

Hoseok felt sweat begin to form on his brow. “Look, giving each other bro-jobs means nothing.”

Jeongguk was the only one who was able to giggle at the new term Hoseok had thought up of on the spot.

“Bro-jobs,” Yoongi’s voice was flat. “You fucking named it bro-jobs. Christ, Hoseok-ah. Why can’t you just admit that you’re in fucking love with Jimin and get it over with?”

“I don’t know what you mean, hyung.” Hoseok stared at the wall past Yoongi’s head while he answered.

“Gukkie-ah, see to it that by tonight Jimin and Hoseok end up together, please,” Yoongi waved his hand and tilted his head upwards to kiss the younger man behind him. “I’m tired of listening to them tell one another in blatantly obvious ways that they love each other. It’s nauseating.”

Jeongguk nodded and unwrapped his arms from around Yoongi. “I’ll be back soon then, hyung. Have to go find Jimin.”

Yoongi nodded and watched as Jeongguk walked into the foyer before looking back at Hoseok with irritation marring his voice. “I can’t fucking believe you and Jimin aren’t dating. What the fuck have you two been doing since I moved out?”

“Uh, paying bills? Going to work? Teaching kids how to dance at my studio? Buying groceries?” Hoseok offered.

Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, unamused. “You are going to tell Jimin that you love him tonight and I don’t want to hear any objections, Hoseok-ah.”

Hoseok squirmed, remembering to use honorifics. “Hyung, I don’t love Jimin.”

“You’re the worst liar ever, Hoseok-ah.”

“Ugh. Okay. So I like him, a little. But that doesn’t mean I love him, hyung,” Hoseok whined when Yoongi continued to glare at him.

“Like him a little, my ass. You’ve been in love with him for like fifty fucking years. Grow some balls and fucking tell him already, Hoseok.”

Hoseok started playing with his fingers. “What if he doesn’t like me back?”

Yoongi wanted to throttle Hoseok for his stupidity. “Are you fucking forreal? Jimin is so in love with you that it makes me physically sick. You can’t be so blind to the fact that he goes out of his way to make sure your needs are met before his and that you feel at ease at whatever place you guys decide to go out to. Or that when you’re sick, he calls in sick at work to take care of you. That he cleans up after himself so you don’t have to after coming back home from teaching drooling three year olds ballet. That he gives you messages because he can tell when your body is tired. That he knows you like the back of his hand and would give up a fucking limb for you. Hoseok-ah, you can’t tell me that you’ve never noticed the way he stares at you!”

“How do you even know any of that, hyung?”

“I’ve lived with you two idiots for a year! I thought that after seeing you two agree to kiss on New Year’s, you'd finally gotten together and I no longer had anything to worry about. But I was wrong and now you need to tell Jimin that you love him, Hoseok-ah.”

Hoseok flinched, wary that the people around them had heard Yoongi, but the party goers were too invested in their eggnog and shabby dancing to pop Christmas songs that no one gave them any mind. And then Hoseok froze because he could see the familiar head of orange hair that was following Jeongguk back to them.

“Hyung, I’m fucking terrified,” Hoseok whispered as the pair drew nearer.

Yoongi patted him on the back, albeit more harshly than Hoseok preferred, but reassuringly all the same. “Everything will be alright. You’ll see.”

“Hyung, I found Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk announced, his voice small and Hoseok wondered how he was even able to hear him.

“Thank you, Gukkie-ah. Hello, Jimin-ah. You’re looking well I see. Gukkie, Tae said he needed us,” Yoongi rushed through his words, slurring them together before he grabbed Jeongguk by the arm and left Hoseok and Jimin alone as quickly as he could.

Jimin blinked after them, surprised that Yoongi had only briefly greeted him before rushing away. Hoseok barely noticed that Jimin wasn’t paying him attention. He was too busy trying to figure out how to tell Jimin that he wanted to have a romantic relationship with him. When Jimin looked back at the elder, Hoseok froze, his brain malfunctioning because had Jimin always looked so beautiful? Was it the lighting? The new hair? Or was it just that his mind was focusing on anything else that wasn’t him telling Jimin how he truly felt?

“Hyung, are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen the love of your life or something,” Jimin’s soft voice drew Hoseok away from his absorption in the younger’s physical appearance.

Hoseok didn’t miss how close to home Jimin’s statement had hit. Instead he steeled his nerves and decided that a quick and to the point way was best when confessing to the orange haired boy before him.

“I did.” Hoseok felt sweaty all over.

Jimin paused, staring at the elder in confusion. “You just saw the love of your life?”

Hoseok simply nodded.

“Where?”

Hoseok set his shoulders and met the younger’s gaze head on. “I’m staring right at him.”

Jimin blinked, his mouth opening in shock. He limply pointed a finger at his chest. “Me, hyung?”

Hoseok nodded. Jimin bit his lip and let his hand fall. The two stood awkwardly in front of each other. Hoseok had no idea what reaction he might have gotten from Jimin, but Jimin avoiding his gaze hadn’t been what he’d been hoping for in the slightest.

“Hoseok-hyung, I’m flattered really. You know that I care about you a lot and you’re one of my best friends, but…” Jimin trailed off, biting his lip again because all he could think of was of the man who had said similar things and they’d all turned out to be lies.

“But what, Jimin-ah?” Hoseok did his best to ignore that his voice had cracked in the middle of his question.

“Hyung, I don’t feel the same.” Jimin couldn't bring himself to meet Hoseok’s eyes because he knew if he did then all he’d see was him.

“Oh,” Hoseok let out, his voice feeling frail. “Oh. Well, um, that’s okay.”

Jimin felt horrible for lying.

“Hyungー” Jimin began.

“No, really, Jimin it’s fine. I’m sorry to have sprung this on you at our friends’ party. I hope this won’t affect our friendship and if you’ll excuse me, I have a hyung to yell at,” Hoseok smiled painfully before bowing and walking into the kitchen where Yoongi was with his boyfriends.

Jimin had lied and Hoseok knew it.

Hoseok paused when he realized that Namjoon and Seokjin had arrived and were bickering in the kitchen as well.

“I told you to bring the present we got them,” Seokjin was scolding an embarrassed Namjoon.

“You said you’d already put it in the car, hyung,” Namjoon mumbled, his face blazing.

“No. I asked you to put it in the car!” Seokjin’s voice rose an octave in frustration and Hoseok couldn’t help but flinch along with everyone else in the room.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk put his hand on Seokjin’s arm. “It’s fine. Stop fighting, please.”

Seokjin stared down at Jeongguk. The same Jeongguk who rarely talked and most thought was mute. In reality though, he merely chose not to talk. Yet here he was, murmuring against Seokjin’s side, clinging to his arm with his head warped by the Santa hat he had on. The elder barely realized that Jeongguk was leading him out of the kitchen because he was too caught up in the words that the younger was spilling.

Once gone, Yoongi crossed his arms and stared at Namjoon who was sporting an ugly Christmas sweater Seokjin had rolled his eyes at when Namjoon first put it on. Hoseok came to stand behind Taehyung who looked genuinely confused.

“Trouble in paradise, Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi asked, his expression blank.

Namjoon suddenly burst into tears and Yoongi lost his calm resolve as he, Taehyung, and Hoseok moved in to comfort the tallest of them all.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, his arms wrapped fiercely around the crying man and his face pressed into his chest.

“Seokjin-hyung asked me for a d-divorce a couple days ago,” Namjoon cried out.

Yoongi who had been about to hug the sobbing man froze instead. “He did what?”

But Namjoon was done talking and instead sobbed into the curve of Taehyung’s neck. Hoseok wrapped himself around Namjoon’s back and nuzzled his face into the younger’s shoulder blade.

“I’m sorry, Joon. If it makes you feel any better, I was just rejected by Jimin right now,” Hoseok mumbled into Namjoon’s back.

In the same instant that Yoongi wrenched Hoseok away from the tallest of their quartet, Namjoon had stopped crying and turned in a flash to face Hoseok with Taehyung beside him.

“He did what?” Yoongi repeated himself.

Hoseok shrugged, his face ashen and mouth twisted into a grim line. Namjoon patted Hoseok reassuringly on the back and Taehyung looked in between everyone, as confused as ever.

“Why is no one getting along like they should?” Taehyung asked no one in particular, then rolled his eyes and began walking back towards the party. “I’m gonna go have a few words with that best friend of mine who’s letting his dumb past affect his future. Yoongi-hyung, go talk to Seokjin-hyung and get our parents to make up.”

“Aye, aye, TaeTae.” Yoongi raised his hand in a salute. “Well, you heard him. Stay here and make yourselves look pretty. I’ll be back with the loves of your lives.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes and allowed Namjoon to pull him into his side as Yoongi quickly walked out of the kitchen. The two men stood together taking in the solemn expression of the other.

“Hobi, I’m sorry about Jimin-ah,” Namjoon offered, patting Hoseok on the top of his head.

Hoseok sighed. “It’s fine, Joon. I’m sorry about Seokjin. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Namjoon began pulling at the end of his ugly holiday sweater. “Seokjin wants kids.”

“And you don’t?”

Namjoon bit his lip. “It just isn’t the right time. I’m still finishing up my doctorates and Seokjin only just started his day care business. Hoseok, we’re not ready for kids.”

Hoseok nodded. “I understand. It’s alright, Joon. I just can’t believe Seokjin would want a divorce for that.”

“Things have changed. We’ve changed,” Namjoon sighed, completely oblivious to the fact that Seokjin stood silently in the kitchen doorway, listening to every word that left Namjoon’s plush lips. “He isn’t the same kid I met in primary school, but then again I’m not the same nerd he took pity on either. You know Hobi, we might have changed, but I’ve never stopped loving him. I just didn’t realize that having kids was so important to him that he wanted a divorce so he could seek out someone else who’ll give him what he wants. I guess it’s my fault for not knowing my own husband like I should.”

“Namjooー” Hoseok began.

“Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin’s firm voice cut off whatever Hoseok had been about to say. “I heard about Jimin.”

Hoseok looked up at the elder, taking in the mask that Hoseok knew all too well as the face Seokjin put on when he was trying to act nonchalant. “I heard about your demand for a divorce, hyung.”

Seokjin glared at Namjoon who had stiffened at Hoseok’s words. “It wasn’t a demand. It was implied. Now, you and Jimin. What’s up?”

Hoseok took Namjoon’s hand and waited until the younger had relaxed his rigid stance before answering Seokjin, not missing the way Seokjin stared at Namjoon like all he wanted to do was envelop his husband in a tight embrace and never let go. “Ah, I told Jimin he was the love of my life and he said he didn’t feel the same. That’s all, hyung.”

“Jimin is the biggest fucking liar ever. Everyone knows he’s head-over-heels for you, Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin huffed out, clearly irritated. “Look, go upstairs to the guest room and we’ll tell Jimin you’re up there crying. He’ll be up there in a flash and begging for you let him be your boyfriend.”

Namjoon’s grip tightened painfully on Hoseok’s hand. “I think Hoseok should just go home.”

“What? Is my idea not good enough?” Seokjin sneered at him.

Hoseok’s gaze bounced from Seokjin to Namjoon and back again as an argument started between the two. The tension had risen in the kitchen and Hoseok was sure that after a good fuck, a serious talk, maybe some marriage counseling, and some actual discussion about their issues the two would be just fine. Hoseok had seen his two oldest friends go through worse when a girl had accused Seokjin of impregnating her, but it had turned out to be false when her ex-boyfriend had stepped up and taken responsibility for his child. Hoseok had been the best man at their wedding four years earlier, he’d been their go-to man when one needed advice for dealing with the other in their teenage years, and he’d been the wingman that had finally gotten them together when they were eight and Seokjin was ten. Hoseok would literally die before he saw his two friends, who’d clearly been created for one another, let their undying love for each other crash and burn.

“Stop it,” Hoseok let out, his voice coming out in a whoosh of air that was barely audible. “Stop fighting.”

They continued, ignoring Hoseok who felt like his world was crumbling at his feet. Then he saw him. He saw Jimin through the kitchen doorway staring back at him with a look of concern and alarm on his face because Hoseok definitely felt a panic attack coming.

“Stop it, please stop fighting. Why can’t you compromise and just tell each other how much you love each other?” Hoseok wheezed, the colors of Namjoon’s ugly Christmas sweater beginning to swirl together.

“Hoseok-ah?” Seokjin’s voice seemed too far away for Hoseok to register, but he somehow heard it in the haze that was settling into his mind.

Hoseok didn’t register the tears that were freely flowing down his face nor how tight his chest felt, constricting and pumping oxygen into him in heavy bursts that did nothing to soothe the panic he felt smothering him. “Stop it. Make up. Please, stop it.”

Then he was running and he didn’t know where he was going, or who was yelling after him, or if anyone was even bothering to follow him, or when he’d even made it outside, or why his friends were always fighting now, or why Jimin had lied about not loving him back, or why Yoongi was the only one who was even relatively happy. Hoseok didn’t know anything anymore, but he kept running in the cold snow that covered everything. He didn’t stop running until he had stumbled into the house he shared with Jimin and had thrown himself into his room.

His lungs burned, his legs ached, and he felt so cold, but at least the earlier panic was starting to fade away. Hoseok could think calmly again and all he thought about was why Jimin didn’t want to admit to loving him.

When the grip of his terror had finally loosened completely, that was when Hoseok began to pack.

  “Where’s Hoseok? What did you two do?” Jimin ran into the kitchen, jabbing a finger at both Seokjin and Namjoon simultaneously.

“We didn’t do anyー” Seokjin began.

“No. You definitely did something if Hoseok had a fucking panic attack!” Jimin exclaimed. “I bet it was your fighting. You know how he feels about your relationship!”

Seokjin’s nostrils flared, but it was Namjoon who responded instead. “Us? It’s suddenly our fault? Are you sure it isn’t yours for lying to him? Why can’t you just let go of the fear your past relationship has brought you and give Hoseok a fucking chance!”

Yoongi appeared in the kitchen then, the sounds of the party still going on behind him muffled as they stood absorbed in their own little bubble. “Out.”

The three men paused and turned to face the Santa-impersonator whose face was marred by a deep frown.

“Out. This is a party, not a ‘ruined relationships reception.’ Jimin, you go home and take care of Hoseok. You know how antsy he gets after one of his episodes, so don’t feel surprised if you catch him packing. Hurry and go,” Yoongi ordered, watching as Jimin bowed to the married couple, crooned out an apology and left before Yoongi settled his gaze on the married couple. “You two, go home and figure out your issues, actually talk to one another, and then fuck. I don’t know. I don’t care. Do whatever you must to be happy with each other again because no way in hell are any of us letting you get a divorce. You think we’re insane or something? You’re practically soulmates. Now go home, get your shit together, and Merry Christmas. I love you.”

While Namjoon and Seokjin were busy offering Yoongi sheepish responses before leaving, Jimin was on his way back home. He drove quicker than was safely necessary and he was lucky that his car didn’t skid off the road each time he took a sharp turn, but his luck held and he made it home in one piece.

As he went to open the front door, Hoseok opened it, two suitcases in hand and looking incredibly frazzled.

“No,” Jimin let out, shoving Hoseok back into the house, taking his suitcases from him, and locking the front door behind him.

“Jimin, I know I said that it was fine before, but you not loving me isn’t really fine and I just need to go,” Hoseok let out in a rush, his words blurring together.

“No, hyung. Please, don’t go,” Jimin begged, not caring if he sounded whiny or not.

“Jimin, I don’t think I can live like this anymore,” Hoseok cried.

And Jimin was crying too when he asked, “What do you mean, hyung?”

Hoseok’s breath hitched as he responded. “Seeing you every day so close and just so far away. Living with you here in this house without being able to hold or talk to you in the way that I want. Jimin-ah, I’ve been in love with you for so long and I don’t know how many more dates I can see you go on with other guys before I eventually just snap.”

“Hyung, you don’t understー” Jimin tried to say.

“Tell me what I don’t understand then!”

“I’m scared!”

That pulled Hoseok up short.

“Scared?” He tried.

Jimin nodded, his eyes swimming in a pool of tears.

“Scared of what?” Hoseok’s voice was deadly quiet.

“You know about my past relationship, hyung,” Jimin sniffled.

Hoseok felt his breath being knocked out of him then because oh. Of course. How could Hoseok have forgotten about the man that was never mentioned in their house? The man that Jimin had been with for three years. The man who’d been years older than Jimin. The man who had abused the young, orange haired, crying man in front of him who was so indescribably soft that Hoseok still didn’t understand why anyone would ever even think of harming him. The very same man that Hoseok had helped Jimin forget about with years of tender touches, wholesome words, many massages, and lots of love to replace the harm that the vile man had inflicted upon Jiminーhad inflicted upon his Jimin.

“I’m such an idiot,” Hoseok mumbled. “Jiminnie, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m sorry for lying,” Jimin hiccuped.

“You lied?”

Jimin nodded sheepishly.

“What about all the dates?”

“They were no dates.”

“What?”

Jimin sighed. “Those were excuses for me to get out of the house and not be assaulted by your very existence for a few hours, hyung. Do you not know how fucking beautiful you are and how threatened I feel every day because I’m the cute one? Not you with your amazing fucking hair, or your perfect fucking teeth, or your smile that fucking lights up the entire universe, or your face that just fuckingー”

Hoseok cut off Jimin’s next words by pulling the younger into his chest and holding him tight. “Does this mean you love me?”

Jimin guffawed. “Of course I love you, hyung. I wouldn’t do even half of the things that I do for you if I didn’t love you.”

Hoseok smiled and pressed his face into the younger’s hair. “I love you too, Jiminnie.”

“Merry Christmas, Hoseok-hyung.”

“Merry Christmas, my newly-declared boyfriend.”

“I never said anything about being your boyfriend, hyung.”

“Yes, you did. Now shut your trap and let me just enjoy this damn moment, Jimin-ah.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

And for the first time ever, Hoseok really did know that Jimin loved him, that Jimin had always loved him, that Jimin would do whatever he needed to do to keep Hoseok in his life because he loved him just as much as Hoseok loved him.

Though maybe he shouldn’t have sent that picture of Jimin’s naked back littered with hickies spelling out “Merry Xmas” to the group chat the next morning. The responding photo he got of Jeongguk and Yoongi’s backs from Taehyung made up for some of the silent treatment Jimin gave him afterwards. What really made it all worth it was the photo of Namjoon’s broad back that Seokjin had sent in reply afterwards because while Hoseok and Jimin had been making up, Seokjin and Namjoon had been doing the same.

  The car ride back from Yoongi’s was torturous for Seokjin. Namjoon didn’t utter a word and seemed to be driving slower than was necessary. Seokjin spent the car ride staring out the window and ignoring his husband, knowing all too well that they were going to have a “big talk” as soon as they stepped into their home.

Namjoon stopped the car and Seokjin let out a long, withheld breath. They sat for a few long seconds that seemed like minutes in the car, neither wanting to be the first one to leave because they both knew what was coming.

And then Seokjin found himself turning in his seat to face Namjoon at the same moment that his younger husband did the same.

“Listenー”

“Lookー”

Seokjin gave his husband a sheepish smile and motioned his hand in a way that said the younger should speak first. Namjoon took a deep breath and nodded before he started speak.

“Seokjin-hyung,” Namjoon began. “I know we haven’t been doing the best right now and that you want a divorceー”

“I don’t want a divorce,” Seokjin cut in, the words he overheard Namjoon telling Hoseok in Yoongi’s kitchen ringing like bullets through his head.

Namjoon stared at him openmouthed. “But you saidー”

“I know what I said, Namjoon-ah, but it wasn’t what I want. You really think I want to be away from you? That I want to wake up and not have your face be the first thing I see?” Seokjin cried because the things streaming down his face had to be tears. “Kim Namjoon, I can’t believe you’d ever think that that’s what I actually want.”

Namjoon's hands came up to caress Seokjin’s cheeks, tears falling freely down his own face because whenever Seokjin cried, Namjoon did too. “Hyung, tell me what you do want then.”

“I want you, Joon-ah. I’ve always wanted you.”

“But what about having kids, hyung?”

Seokjin shook his head. “I want kids too, but I want you more. If I have to choose between the two, then I choose you, Joon-ah. You’re more important.”

“Hyung, I’m not going to make you choose between me and having kids. I want them too, you know.”

“But you saidー”

“I know what I said, hyung,” Namjoon cut him off. “And it isn’t that I don’t want kids. I’m just not ready. We aren’t ready.”

Seokjin nodded his head, allowing Namjoon to wipe most of his tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “You’re right, we aren’t. It’s just that I’m getting old and I started to panic. I thought that I wouldn’t have a lot of time left. But I realize now that I shouldn’t have let this create a wedge between us. I should’ve talked about this earlier with you, Joon-ah.”

Namjoon smiled. “It’s fine, hyung. We’re talking about it now and that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Is it not too late then? To fix us?”

“No, it’s not too late. We’re going to be alright, hyung. Kids or no kids, we still have each other and that’s what matters, right?”

“Right.”

“We should get inside, it’s cold in here. I don’t want you getting sick.” Seokjin smiled and nodded. Namjoon grinned in return and opened his car door, letting in a gust of cold, wintery air that made Seokjin shiver. The younger hastily shut his door and ran to the passenger’s side to open Seokjin’s door. Seokjin stepped out and twirled the car keys that Namjoon had left in the ignition around his fingers, offering the younger an amused smile when he blushed furiously and ducked his head. Seokjin shook his head and locked the car before taking Namjoon’s warm hand and walked up to their front door.

As soon as the door had shut behind them and they both kicked off their boots and shucked off their coats and scarves, Seokjin had Namjoon pinned into the wall with his hips, his lips working their way across the younger’s jaw. Namjoon moaned and twisted his fingers into the elder’s hair, tugging gently on the brown strands. Somehow they made their way to their bedroom and began to undress.

“You know, I never liked this sweater, but somehow you pull it off,” Seokjin commented when he tugged off the ugly holiday sweater Namjoon had put on for Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s party.

Namjoon flushed underneath him on the mattress. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. Just telling the truth,” Seokjin murmured as he slowly peeled off Namjoon’s jeans.

“Still, thank you, hyung. It means a lot,” Namjoon muttered, his voice deep and husky while Seokjin loomed over him with a look in his eyes that the younger knew all too well.

“Anything for you, Joon-ah. I know I’ve been a dick these past few days and I’m beyond sorry. I just hope you know that I love you, have always loved you, and will never stop loving you, no matter what,” Seokjin whispered into every dip and curve of Namjoon’s smooth skin.

The younger shivered and pulled Seokjin up so he could press his lips against the elder’s. “I forgive you, hyung. And trust me, the feeling is extremely mutual. I love you, Jinnie-hyung.”

Seokjin smiled at the pet name and some time later found himself bottoming out in Namjoon, the younger panting and moaning underneath him. Seokjin slowly rocked his hips and watched as his husband fell apart, but it was fine because Seokjin was there to catch and put him back together by the end of it.

  “3!”

Yoongi stared hard at Taehyung and Jeongguk, grateful that they put up with him and loved him so much. Taehyung nuzzled his face into Yoongi’s neck and mouthed at his jaw as they lay atop their bed, watching the New Year’s countdown on their TV. Jeongguk was asleep and dozing peacefully with his head on Yoongi’s chest and Yoongi thought that he’d never seen anything more beautiful than Taehyung and Jeongguk.

“2!”

Namjoon and Seokjin held each other in their bed, staring into the other eyes, remembering every little word the other had spoken before in their “big talk” on Christmas Eve. They were going to stay together and having children could wait until they were both ready. Yoongi had been right, they really were soulmates and neither of the two men could ever really see themselves without the other.

“1!”

The cold air of New York’s Times Square turned their breath into mist. It was beyond cold, but Hoseok had promised Jimin a New Year’s kiss and he had pulled out all the stops for the occasion. Now they were in New York about to watch the ball drop, in person, and eyeing each other like they’ve never seen one another before. They were so in love and they were so ready to start the new year together.

The last second ticked off on the clock and though each of the three relationships were vastly different, they all still kissed their lovers at the same time.

“Happy New Year’s!”

[min-kit]

5 Times They Were Caught and 1 Time They Weren’t (Fear the Walking Dead | Trick | 2/6)

Fandom: Fear the Walking Dead Rating: T Ship: Troy Otto/Nick Clark Chapter: 2 of 6 A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Inkaley on AO3! Their stories are absolutely magnificent and they’ve been nothing but nice to me!! This chapter is longer than the first and much less fluffy, I hope you enjoy :)  chapters (on ao3): one , two 

Jake rubbed at his temples, trying to sooth the headache that was beginning to form. The case he was working on currently was a bit of a mess, one that involved property and what belong to whom and whom should get what. In fact, it reminded him a bit too much of the ranch for his tastes. It reminded him of Walker’s sly remarks about the land being stolen.

He shook the thought from his head. He was already tired from his current case; no need to bother himself with the accusations that Walker had always thrown around towards his family, most specifically, his father.

What he wanted to do was go home and just… relax for awhile. No noise, no interruptions, just himself and one of his favorite books--as well as maybe a nice cup of hot coffee, or two, or three.

Troy shouldn’t be home. He was rarely home lately, after opting to spend time with his friend, boyfriend, Jake wasn’t sure. The two of them had met… actually, Jake wasn’t sure of that either. Come to think of it, Jake wasn’t really sure of anything when it came to Troy and--what was his name? Nick?

He wasn’t blind, the few times he’d met Nick, the boy, while polite enough, had been a little gazy, his words and sentences making less sense to him than he was sure they made to Nick himself. More than that, the one time he’d seen Nick in something other than a long sleeved shirt or jacket, he’d seen the track marks.

Jake had shot his brother a look the moment he’d seen them, but of course Troy had pointedly ignored him. He couldn’t help but worry about his little brother. He knew Troy wasn’t stupid, he knew he could take care of himself, but still, he worried.

Troy had a hard life. Not to say his own was perfect, but Troy’s had been… something else. Soe days he still thought about the day he’d found Troy in the basement--locked down there for at least a day, having been forgot about by his mother, their father too drunk to even notice.

Troy had been ten, Jake fifteen. Dried tears streaked his face as he curled up in the corner. When Jake had found him, he had said nothing, only looked at Jake before standing and leaving the basement. That was the last time Jake had seen any proof of Troy shedding tears, not even when his mother passed did he cry, at least, not where Jake could notice.

Troy had grown up on the ranch ever since he had been pulled from school “for others’ safety”. Not being around others caused Troy to grow cold, caused him to lack the understanding of most basic human emotions. But that seemed to change the day Troy showed up on his door in LA, announcing he would be staying for awhile. Jake really hadn’t minded the idea of it but he had been shocked in general. Troy loved the ranch more than anything. To think he’d ever willingly leave it… but Jake decided not to ask and Troy didn’t offer up any explanations.

It wasn’t long after he moved himself in that Troy had met Nick and the two were suddenly attached at the hip. Troy acted different and although he’d never been interested in drugs before, he had also never learned to deal with the pressures from a friend. Mostly because he had never really had one, unless he counted Mike and, somehow, Jake didn’t think it was right to count Mike.

Jake just hoped Troy was smart enough to say no i it ever came down to it.

His keys jingled a little as he fought to unlock the door without dropping his books and notes, only to find that the door was… already unlocked? Looking a little warily at the door before figuring that Troy must be home on a rare occasion, he adjusts himself and grabs the knob, heading inside to the small apartment.

He almost wants to turn around and walk straight back the way he came, but he fought the urge. This was his apartment. He wasn’t going to be ushered out like this when all he really wanted to do was sleep. So he sighed softly and shut the door, walking over to the table and dropping his books noisily onto it, watching with slight amusement as Nick scrambled off of Troy and straight onto the ground.

Troy didn’t seem too bothered by the fact his boyfriend (and by the way Nick had been really going at Troy’s face, almost as if he were a zombie trying to eat him, it was definitely boyfriend) had literally just fallen to the ground and instead took the time to wipe at his lips a little and Jake closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Walking in on his brother making out with his boyfriend was honestly something that Jake had never thought he’d have to deal with in his entire life because--as bad as it sounds even to him--who would ever want to date Troy?

Someone who didn’t know him, that’s who.

Even just thinking it to himself, it was really harsh and Jake felt automatically horrible as he looked over, pasting a soft smile onto his face. “Sorry for interrupting--but I did text you, Troy.” And he had. He’d texted Troy letting him know that he was heading home and never got a response. It wasn’t really that much of a surprise that he’d never gotten a reply back. Troy didn’t use his phone all that much, not having much use for it on the ranch where reception really wasn’t the greatest. But it didn’t need to be; come the apocalypse, nobody would be using cell phones anyway, right?

Eventually, Nick had pushed his way up, standing there looking like a deer struck and Jake made no move to say anything. The younger man rubbed his hands along his pants before chuckling and looking between the two of them. “I should go--I’ve got… things.” It was an obvious excuse but Jake hoped those “things” wouldn’t end up involving drugs that he knew Nick did.

Jake just nodded silently, standing at the table. He looked away when Nick moved in to kiss his brother, giving them some sort of privacy for politeness’ sake. He heard his brother give a soft bye (and it was so strange hearing his voice so soft and genuinely, not just because he was trying to achieve something) before Nick was shuffling over to the door.

Nick gave him a little hesitant smile and Jake smiled back. He could almost see the relief on Nick’s face before the boy grabbed his jacket and headed out. And then there was silence. And then it was broken.

“Troy, I think we need to talk about this.” Troy sighed and settled his feet firmly on the ground before pushing himself up with a raised eyebrow, looking like he totally didn’t want to have this talk.

He took in a breath. But he was Troy’s big brother and although Troy and him had their… difficulties at times, he still cared about him and wanted him to be okay.

“I’ve seen the track marks.” Troy is still just kind of silent, looking at Jake as if waiting for him to continue. Jake had honestly expected Troy to say something at that, but when he hadn’t, he was thrown for a little bit of a loop. “Okay--so you are aware then?”

“Of course I am.” The smile Troy gives is one of appeasement, not really meaning nor saying and Jake sighs again before pushing out a chair. His brother looks at it before going and sitting in it and it struck Jake just how much Troy looked like a kid in that moment, staring up at his brother and waiting for a scolding. It was all too similar to things that had actually happened in the past.

“He hasn’t pulled you into this, right?” Jake was relieved when Troy actually looked insulted at the mere suggestion of it.

“No!” There was slight anger written on his face and Jake quickly sat down in the chair in front of him, putting himself on Troy’s level instead of standing above him. The slight movement made Troy’s face stiffen, but he didn’t seem to get any angrier and that make Jake release a breath of relief.

“Hey--I’m just asking, okay? I have to worry. You’re my brother. I worry.” He said this gently and at his words, Troy seemed to relax. He didn’t smile, but Jake could see a slight glimmer in Troy’s eyes that signified he was happy at those words. “So you haven’t done… anything, right?”

There was slight hesitation and then Troy looked away, appearing almost ashamed, and it wasn’t an expression that Jake was used to seeing from his brother.

“Oxy--” Jake took in a breath and straightened his back but Troy quickly continued before he could say anything. “But it was just one time and I hated it and he hasn’t even tried to get me to take anything else and I had asked him. It’s not his fault, he didn’t pressure me or put me up to it.” His words were quick and Jake had a feeling he wasn’t entirely telling the truth, but he let it pass, not wanting to start a huge argument. Fact is, his brother was old enough to take care of himself now. He could make his own choices; he’d been making them for a long time.

“Okay…” he said finally, nodding a little. “I can’t tell you want to do here, Troy. I just want you to be careful, okay? Don’t get too heavily involved. A person like that can be really dangerous, not only literally, but in the end all they care about is drugs. It’s not something you can change. They have to want to change it themselves.”

For a few moments, there wasn’t a reply and Jake worried that he’d made Troy angry again, but his next words were calm and rational. “Nick is the first person to look at me who doesn’t see me as a horrible person. Someone beyond being saved.”

Jake wanted to argue that he didn’t think that of Troy at all, but when he met his eyes, his words died on his lips. Both of them knew he would be lying, at least in part.

“So I think it’s only fair that I give him the same chance that he gave me, right?” Troy didn’t wait for an answer, instead standing and, after grabbing his wallet and phone, left without another word.

He sat there for awhile, just staring at the empty space his brother had left in front of him before giving a smile. Well, who would have thought? Troy Otto actually having healthy thoughts towards another person?

Maybe he had been too quick to judge.

[exosupport]

we have an introject of how we saw our mom when we were younger. her name is Raven and she used to be very abusive. (she is seeing her wrongs, and getting better.) she used to direct her anger towards our little, Starry. Stary has then been heavily traumatized by Raven and is extremely scared. Although Raven has been getting better, she still has some abusive tendencies.

Do you(&) have any ways to help?

I'd say that your main goal right now needs to be harm reduction. Raven may be trying to better herself but we've found it's good to have consequences and contingency plans for abusive behavior planned in advanced. After we had to forcibly remove someone from the system for secretly abusing multiple people recently we realized that even people we trust could turn out to be harmful so what we did was issue a warning to everyone that the behavior wouldn't be tolerated and that anyone caught doing these things would be dealt with just as harshly, thinking that knowing the consequences would discourage anyone who theoretically might want to do similar things.

More importantly we went on to set some clear rules and boundaries one big one being that in most cases no one can be fully alone with our syskids and middles anymore they need to have at least one other person with them. Another one is that certain people aren't allowed to willingly interact with syskids (this hasn't been a problem because said people have little desire)

No doubt our systems function much differently so these specific things may not be an option for you but regardless of Raven's progress you need to prepare for the case in which case she worsens and create fail-safes that prevent not just her but anyone from abusive behavior. I also would recommend keeping her separate from Starry if you can and in general making sure to protect and reassure Starry and ensure Starry's emotional and physical needs are met.

Good luck, I hope things can be safer for y'all!