#Jasper finds himself very sexually confused

[light-miracles]

Alice: *burst through the door* YOU TWO ARE HAVING SEX!

Bella: *reading a magazine*

María: *playing a solitaire* Are we? Isabella, why didn't you tell me? I would have taken my clothes off.

Bella: I mean, she's not wrong.

María: Still.

[infictionalwonderland]

Can you please write a headcannon of dating the twilight characters you write for ❤️

sure thing love <3

Dating the twilight characters headcanons !

warnings : fluffff, mentions of blood death etc etc, swearing

characters included : jasper, rosalie, emmett, alice, carlisle, edward

Jasper Hale —

i am so in love with this man

he’d be really cautious at first

he doesn’t trust himself at all and with something as precious and fragile as you he was even more anxious at harming you

i feel like he would feel better if he initiated all of your touches when your relationship with him becomes more romantic & intense

pls respect my baby’s boundaries

but when the trust between the two of you strengthens

he’s willing to let you be the one to initiate contact and such things

when this happens.. pda will be a regular occurrence tbh

when he gets used to your touch, he’ll find comfort in it

hand holding :))

head buried into your neck, and you silently cheering him on as he overcomes his blood lust

but that’s just what his love for you does.

it overpowers his desire for blood

‘darlin’

is his nickname for you

& in that accent

*swoons*

overall the cutest couple ngl.

Rosalie Hale —

MY MF WIFE 🙄✋

you’re the only one who she’s just soft with.

that’s a major flex tbh

she loves when you run your hands through her hair, brush her hair, style her hair just anything like that

it’s so soothing for her

she’s so protective of you

arm around your waist at all times and glaring at anyone who looks over to youse

forehead kisses >>>

she’s big spoon 😁

she secretly loves your cuddles and cuddling with you

no matter how much she jokingly complains

loyalty is also a very serious thing for her so if you betray her trust in any kinda way

.. let’s just say she won’t be pleased

you two the typa couple to dance around to absolutely no music

& to run around in the rain

we all know bae wants kids

so.. yh prepare to adopt

bye bye your sanity :)

Emmett Cullen —

underrated hottie

you two are the LIFE of the parties

one of youse is always ‘misbehaving’ as esme says

mama cullen even suggested a naughty step

she’s FED UP W UR SHIT

but like she loves you both, you’re her children, so it’s okay :))))

constant laughter

constant teasing

constant sexual comments

and to outsiders you two have the most confusing dynamic

one second you’ll be having a ‘fight’ and the next you’re literally jumping into his arms and he’s swinging you around happily

he loves to just kiss ALL over your face for no reason over than your laughter, his favourite sound

and you tend to just randomly jump into his arms or onto his back & he has to catch you

sometimes he purposely just lets you fall and laughs at you

what an ass 🙄 I know

Alice Cullen —

ALICE 💗💝💕💖

she’s so giddy and happy and UGH i love her

you’re basically her protector, not that she needs it, you just adore your bubbly fairy-like gf and never wanna see her in harms way

CHEEK KISSES

alice’s fav

can always catch the two of you cuddling wherever

constant adoring gazes

a lot of touching

lot of mushy-ness & soppy shit but it’s okay bc it’s alice

so so many compliments

she picks out your outfits for you sometimes and makes them match/coordinate with her own

best friends & lovers in one

she never fails to impress you

and you never fail to have her in sheer awe of you

cutest gfs

Carlisle Cullen —

okay im a dom

but this man 👀

anyway moving on

sorry sweetheart but you’re now the official mother of unstable dead bitches :)

have fun with that xoxo

i don’t really see a lot of pda with him

cuz idk i don’t think he’s the type

BUT i do however see him as the possessive type .. just me? mkay

he doesn’t really ‘mark’ you like in sexual way, cuz youse like with his kinda kids and they’d never let him live that down

but he does insist you wear his clothing, he’ll sometimes give you jewellery and perhaps even a ring with his initials

im here for it

lot of pet names

‘my love’

‘sweetheart’

‘dove’

‘darling’

WHEW 😩✋

lemme catch my breath

Edward Cullen —

i kinda have mixed ish feelings bout him but let me just proceed with this

lives to tease

idc what youse say

this man IS a tease

hand on thigh

tracing your arms & figure ‘n shit

cheeky fucker just winks and/or grins at you

he likes you reading to him

he’ll have his head in your lap and you can just read to him, it’s peaceful

also outdoor adventures are another thing he likes

now that really ain’t for me, i don’t ever leave my house unless im forced but if that’s what you like then .. so does he 😶

he finds silence peaceful

like you two can be in bed, you’re sleeping on his chest ( if your human ) and he’s just looking down at you so in love, feeling peaceful and happy

in a non creepy way..

let’s hope 😃

[biperhart]

Sexuality Headcanons

Henry- bisexual. we all know this.

Jasper- gay asf. literally the gayest one there. Henry will do that to a person

Charlotte- pansexual, demiromantic and possibly demisexual

Piper- raging bisexual

Ray- doesn't do labels

i feel like Henry didnt realize he was bi for a longggg time but then when he did he had a fucking crisis. like he was so confused and probably embarrassed about it and didn't wanna tell anyone. I feel like he'd go to Charlotte for advice while figuring it out, but he wouldn't just come out and say that he's not straight. he'd come at her with a bunch of hypotheticals and try really hard not to out himself lmao. but of course she'd figure it out. then he'd tell ray and jasper. Jasper would be overly enthusiastic about it (bcs he lowkey has been crushing on Henry since forever) and ray would be supportive but pick on him about it. not in a homophobic way but in Ray's "I'm an idiot" way. then when he'd tell Charlotte she'd be like "I know. also congrats ily". piper would be very sarcastic about the whole thing but support him.

Jasper just always knew. like he was always sure of his sexuality but he wasn't ready to admit it to anyone until he was around 15 or 16 and until then he would try really hard to get girlfriends as a cover up but none of the girls ever took him up on it cause they all knew. then he got confident in it and told everyone and nobody was surprised. Henry and Charlotte were the only ones who were actually nice to him about it and not just like "yeah we know fuck off" even tho they did know. piper was super rude to him about it like "yeah I KNOW! now go away" but eventually when she came out they'd talk more about it and become friends

Charlotte probably wasn't too shocked to realize her sexuality. I imagine she looked into stuff online and stumbled across people explaining the different sexualities/identities and stuff and be like, oh yeah, that's me. and she probably would handle it very calmly. she wouldn't come out to anyone, she'd just mention it if they asked, or casually say she's going on a date with a girl, cause it didn't matter to her that much. Jasper and Henry would find out that way when they were in middle school.

Piper is bi but leans more towards girls. like u can't tell me she didn't have a crush on jana. she always knew she liked guys and was fine with it but then when she reached seventh grade she read like a dumb Wattpad story and it all clicked and she screamed. and then she thought back to all the time she'd spent trying to impress girls. she probably told Henry first because she knew he also wasn't straight and they'd bond over that. then they'd talk about all their previous crushes together. she'd come out to everyone else in a really obnoxious way, like she'd stand on a table with a megaphone or something. she'd definitely get all the girls in highschool

I feel like ray mostly likes girls, but he probably had like one boyfriend when he was younger or something and occasionally still gets little crushes on guys. he doesn't really care about labels because he cant be bothered. Henry finds out when he comes out to ray because ray is like "lol reminds me of tony" or whatever his old bfs name was and Henry would be like "excuse me WHAT? why am I just NOW finding out about this?" and they'd talk about it every once in a while. eventually Charlotte and Jasper find out too and they're just as shocked.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Based on your head canon that Edward is a repressed homosexual riddled with internalized homophobia, how do you think Edward would react to Bella if she was a boy? I read your answer on the "if Caius switched places with Bella" question and I wanted to know if you think it'd be the same reaction with any guy.

I’d say it depends how much cis teenage boy Beauford is channeling.

I always picture Caius... not necessarily as screaming testosterone (but yes) but one of those unmistakably masculine guys. He’s not an intellectual, not a dude bro either like Emmett, but this guy is tough as nails and very... manly. It’s hard for me to picture a non Mycenaean warlord vampire Caius, i.e. the human Caius from the last ask, but I imagine, as before, the arts bore him and while not a football star he’s not an intellectual either.

Edward likes a few things about Bella. He likes her smell, her empty mind, her delicate frailty and feminine aesthetic, and what he can project onto her. What he chooses to project onto her is very telling.

She’s a gentle intellectual, well-read in mostly the classics, who has the disposition of a Madonna and is in desperate need of Edward’s protection from spiders and meteors.

By comparison, even before Bella became Bella to him, he finds most of the teenage boys in the school crass and beneath him. He also finds the girls vapid, gossipy, shrews but that’s a different story.

Point being, if Beauford’s a jock, if he thinks fart jokes are funny, or even if he plays a little too much Minecraft, Edward’s not going to be interested.

Edward has to be able to project a quiet intellectual onto Beauford the way he does Bella. Someone, perhaps, who is a little too sensitive to fit in with the bros. A gentle sort of man who is oddly like Carlisle, but even more so. He also can’t be too interested in women, as then he’d be just another Mike Newton. He also can’t be too blatantly interested in men because then Edward’s homophobia comes into play.

This was much the same with Bella, where part of her draw for Edward was that Edward imagined Bella was much too good for him and not attracted in the least. (He hopes, desperately, then is amazed, that Bella finds him hot. Meanwhile he loathes Jessica Stanley for lusting after him when Bella secretly does th esame damn thing.)

I also imagine that Beauford has to be a similar sort of frail pretty if only because Edward also has this protector and general inferiority complex. Edward’s the skinniest of the Cullen men and is very sensitive about this, as we see with Bella, he desperately wants to have a leg up on his partner and be the protector in the relationship. Edward would not do well with Rosalie, a woman who could carry his bleeding human carcass down a mountain.

So, let’s say Beauford checks all these boxes, which he very well might.

I imagine what we get is a very close “friendship” that’s actually really really really gay. Basically, it’s Bella and Alice’s Homoerotic Friendship II: The Quickening. And beautifully, just like canon, neither Edward nor Beauford realize they’re gay despite being in a committed relationship.

Edward takes Beauford to the meadow where he blissfully lays his chest across Beauford’s beating heart. Edward eats Beauford’s tear to keep him with him always. They do intellectual things like watch Romeo and Juliet together where Edward remarks he envies the ease with which Romeo can kill himself. After the James’ incident, Edward helps Beauford shower, then later draws erotic art that he claims isn’t erotic of Beauford in the shower. Edward openly remarks all the time that he plans to spend the rest of Beauford’s life watching him from the shadows as he marries some beautiful woman and has beautiful children. Beauford is his soulmate, an intellectual peer the likes of which the world has never seen, in a completely platonic way of course.

Carlisle remarks that he’s so glad Edward has finally found someone, Edward gives him this scandalized look. Ye gods, Carlisle, not like that! Wherever did you get such an idea? Carlisle quietly tries not think of the decades he spent in Volterra with ancient Greeks. It’s best Edward not know about that

All of Rosalie’s suspicions regarding Edward’s sexuality are confirmed, but she’s actually nicer than Edward makes her out to be, so she says nothing. She thinks it though, and Edward hates her for that.

Jasper’s just very confused and has to keep asking if Edward and Beauford have admitted this is all very romantic yet. The answer’s always no.

However, as Beauford can’t get pregnant and thus force the vampire issue, Edward likely doesn’t turn him and eventually devours him as he would have eventually devoured Bella.

[jasperunbound]

In the Styx

Fandom: Dragon Quest XI

Word Count: 24,930

Relationship: Jasper/Hendrik

Characters: Jasper, Hendrik, Veronica, Erik, Jade, Sylvia, Rab, Serena, The Luminary

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sexual Content, Blood, Injury, Death

Other tags: Major Spoilers, Spoilers for Act II and III, Spoilers for Hendrik and Jasper’s new DQXIS scenario, Canonical Character Death, Ghosts, Wilderness, Bathing, Emotional Conversations, Requited Love, Campfire, Stew, Pastries, Pseudo-Medieval Gender Roles, Gothic Prose

Summary: Towards the end of a dutiful day, Hendrik removes his recently acquired Twin Eagle Armour to bathe in a small forest river. Jasper’s spirit decides to join him— and their feelings are brought to bear.

[Read on AO3] or, read below!

Pre-Fic Notes: I use female pronouns for both Sylvia— who is a trans woman in the original Japanese version of DQXI— and the Luminary, whom I depict as a trans girl out of narrative preference. Make sure that you’ve seen the new Definitive Edition post-game scenario with Hendrik and Jasper before reading, or else you’ll be very confused.

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Hendrik did not understand at first what Jasper had meant when he said the two of them would never part again. It was clear insomuch that some essence of his friend remained beyond death— both the radiant armour of brass he donned each passing day with pride, as well as the worn, embellished sword of platinum that marked Jasper’s official tomb at the castle, were testament. However, it was not for some time afterward, a number of days after the affairs in Heliodor were at last settled, that the true nature of their arrangement had made itself known.

On an afternoon that had been otherwise pleasant, Hendrik found himself lost. A forked path laid before him in the soil, but even upon examination, neither way had been generous enough to provide clues as to the location of his companions. He stood discerning each of his options, yet with no clear choice forward, unease had begun to settle within him.

They were meant to search for a rare material for the Luminary’s forge. Past towering thickets of giant bamboo which threatened to engulf all view of the sky, through winding paths of the Hotto Steppe, lay one of many steamy caverns adjacent of Mount Huji containing that which the Luminary sought. Yet, while each of the Luminary’s other companions managed to stay attentive of their goal, Hendrik had allowed his mind to stray to some trivial distraction: a small stray mound of quarry stones laying off to the side of the Steppe’s path. From a distance, they appeared as good quality stones, and Hendrik thought a handful might serve a decent new tool with which to whet his blades. He had stooped down a moment to inspect them; by the time he was done, having placed a few stones of choice into his traveling pack, the chattering of present company had died down, and Hendrik realized too late that each of his companions had wandered further down the trail beyond sight.

Though they could not reasonably have gotten far in so short a time, when Hendrik hurried to follow the path and regroup, he could not locate them, instead finding himself at a dirt crossroads. His attempts at calling out for each of his allies, in the hopes that one would reply, were rather heard only by the steppe. He had felt a shame pour over him, and reproached himself for allowing such a petty indulgence. When his frustrations towards his own self began to subside, he wordlessly cursed the scatters of great bamboo for their obscuring of the horizon. This had been his confining predicament for a short while.

As Hendrik analysed which of the two paths to take, or alternatively if he should be staying put in the chance that someone would come back to locate him, a thick black fog enveloped him slowly. Alarmed by this, Hendrik leapt aside and gripped onto the handle of his axe. As seconds passed, however, the fog began to congregate in a manner familiar to Hendrik, and his stance fell to ease.

“Jasper?” Hendrik hailed the figure, which appeared as a wisp of black smoke taken mystically to the stature of a man.

Though Hendrik had hoped to speak with his friend, no words came from the wisp, and it instead started down the western trail. It made some distance away, and as Hendrik began to wonder what it was doing, the wisp’s movements ceased. It took Hendrik a moment to understand that it waited for him.

“Do you wish to lead me? …Are you trying to show the correct path?” Hendrik had asked the figure. Of course, it could not respond, he presumed.

Though no reaction came from the wisp, with lack of another plan Hendrik decided to put his fate for the time being in its hands, and approached next to where it had stopped. It began to move again, and Hendrik followed it; the crunch of his footsteps contrasted heavily with the eerie silence of his guide as they travelled further and furthermore down the path. Eventually, the bamboo-hedged trail dispersed and they had come to a wide clearing on the mountainside. Hendrik stopped as he had laid eyes and ears upon quite the ruckus.

From a medium distance, Hendrik sighted the Luminary, Erik, and Serena all piled atop a large Liquid Metal Slime, each wrestling with it fervently as it tried to squeeze out of their unrelenting grips. Both the Princess and Veronica stood nearby, poised to block a potential escape, while Lord Robert and Sylvia screamed and cheered at them all to capture it. Hendrik sighed with relief then, feeling as though a building pressure had been eased from his shoulders.

“That would explain their swift disappearance… I must thank you, Jasper. I doubt I would have found them so easily all on my own,” Hendrik had said, turning to his unanticipated guide. But as he turned, he saw that the shadow had all but completely vanished; only small specks of black seemed to linger near his boots, before fading with the rest.

These had been the initial circumstances under which Hendrik saw light shed upon the larger meaning of Jasper’s words. Over the weeks that followed, Hendrik’s understanding grew, and Jasper himself— when free to manifest in his most human embodiment— told of how he, a spectre, was able to maintain himself amongst the living. Though Yggdrasil had claimed his life for her branches, through a manner of magic and will was Jasper able to affix his spiritual likeness to Hendrik’s armour.

The finer details of the process eluded much of Hendrik’s comprehension, his magical expertise being humbly slight. However, he learnt much regarding Jasper’s new perspectives of the living world as one who haunted it. Jasper had taught him that during the hours of daylight, his form was represented by the silent black mist. He manifested as man only when light ebbed along the horizon, ending with the rising sun. Though he yet spent the better of his time quietly observing life from within Hendrik’s suit of armour.

In all truth, Hendrik cared little for the intricacies of Jasper’s condition. Not to imply he gave less than his full attention when Jasper spoke of it— he attended to every detail to the best of his ability— but whether Jasper appeared to him a wisp of smoke, a human, a large winged demon— Hendrik’s opinion remained unchanged. He was truly, deeply gladdened by the return of his dear old friend.

  ◅〜✧〜∽〜✧〜∽〜✧〜▻

  A strong wind flung about the trees as Hendrik unfastened from his greave its final leather strap. With opposite knee bent, he pried the plate from his leg, and placed it gently upon the greased rag which seated the remainder of his outermost coat of armour. He then stood to his feet and leaned forward sharply to ease the pulling of his mail over his head, letting his hair fall to the front of his shoulders so as to keep careful of his locks catching on the numerous rings.

The motion of removing his armour as the day drew nearer to its end was one that Hendrik found a second nature, cultivated over decades of repetition into a pacifying routine. For every new set of armour donned, that routine had differed slightly, and Hendrik felt the changes were significant of a new era in his serving of Heliodor. Jasper had expressed much of the same sentiment in their shared youth, and with a greater passion.

Whilst unlacing his thin gambeson of layered wool, Hendrik recalled the day that Jasper had taken his measurements for their matching set of armour. There had been such an eagerness, a raw focus to Jasper’s work, and Hendrik knew it to derive from Jasper fulfilling his ambition of design; hours had Jasper spent nit-picking at the appearance of the drafts, and, when finally he found the plans satisfactory, their then-bedevilled king had approved of their making.

Hendrik understood that his current set of armour, Jasper’s newest design, was significant of Jasper reminding him of his duty to face forward— to not lose sight of their dream as he had done. It pained Hendrik— to know that on such a day, Mordegon had already begun choking Jasper’s life with insecurity and hatred. There were no signs in his friend’s attitude then; he must have still yet clung to the hope of a new future in serving together as the kingdom’s wings, their childhood dream.

With the woollen under-armour folded in a separate pile, Hendrik languidly shed his boots, socks, shirt, and pants, placing each unto the same stack. He stood cherishing briefly the sensation of the cool grass between his toes, and the air of the forest around him. Though, he would not stop and rest yet— he was most keen to wash away the sweat that had accumulated on his body over the course of the day, and still needed to look after his wounds.

The river nearby was a tranquil one, clear and clean courtesy of its distance from any civilization. Its gentle flow could be heard throughout the wood and yonder from the campsite which Hendrik had prepared in advance of the evening. Since they had stumbled upon it earlier, he longed to swim; although he had been so dishevelled by the day’s adventure that it was now a necessity, more than the pure leisure he formerly imagined. Hendrik grabbed the pack of bathing supplies from the belongings which were shared amongst his each of his companions, as well as a few fresh linen towels, and then made his walk towards the river’s edge.

As Hendrik approached the bank of the river, before the portion where grass and forest foliage met with sand and stone, he sat down the bag and placed the linens which he had brought folded underneath one arm. He crouched to search the pack’s contents, right hand sifting through the hair gels of Erik and Sylvia, Princess Jade’s lotions, and the other assortments of items used by the Luminary’s allies to maintain their cleanliness. Hendrik himself took out his preferred herbal soap and a few jars of oils and perfumes with which to cleanse his hair. He sat them in the grass closer to the river’s shore, to avoid dripping upon the bag accidentally when he returned.

After rising to his feet, Hendrik slid off his cotton boxer shorts— his final article of clothing. Nude barring the pendant, he waded into the stream, and took in the quaintness of his environment. The river itself was a dozen or so paces broad, its deepest point reaching shy of Hendrik’s centre when he stood. The far side of it was fenced by a strip of birch and briar, beyond which could be viewed an open grassy plain, and beyond that plain hung the sun low and warm. The water was of a refreshing and cool temperature, warmed enough by the sun’s rays to avoid being unpleasantly chilly; through its clarity could be seen a number of small freshwater lobsters and fish hiding amongst the stones.

Hendrik dipped underneath a moment to wet himself completely, guiding the water over his hair and neck using his hands. As he soaked idly with naught but his head above the surface, his thoughts began to roam towards his travelling companions. In light of the injuries he sustained while they all subdued a dangerous pack of monsters, they had dismissed him earlier— ordering him to relax— and to set up a camp for their return if he so desired a further responsibility. He did not think his wounds severe enough as to necessitate leaving before they saw to the completion of their task, yet everyone had insisted— most especially Sylvia and Princess Jade; they could be so worrisome at times! He hoped everyone would steer away of any mischief during his absence.

Briefly, Hendrik returned ashore to retrieve his soap. Upon his retreat to the water, he shut his eyes and brought the bar underneath his nose. This herbal lime soap was of an elegant personal make, handcrafted with seeds and petals from flowers common to Zwaardsrust— his home. Though a mild one, its aroma was comfort for Hendrik, who most commonly preferred to purchase soaps of a similar make when available. He brought the scented bar over his body to cleanse himself.

“Ahh—” Hendrik hissed and winced in pain when he mistakenly let pressure against one of his bruises.

Though Serena had helped to mend the worst of his wounds earlier, with their collective magic dwindling, none could spare to clear them entirely. Now, however, some of Hendrik’s magical vigour had been reimbursed by the hours, and so he paused his scrubbing to heal what yet remained to be healed. He used both hands, and saw as each of the garish purple marks faded to a more agreeable, faded yellow-brown colour, and became more tolerable to touch, significant of a near-complete healing. He then resumed scrubbing.

“Ha-HEM,” coughed a voice from the riverbank’s direction.

Hendrik turned to discern his company and found himself looking at Jasper, who stood there in the grass, fully nude, with his elegant blond locks falling loosely around his shoulders.

“Would you mind it if I joined you?” Jasper questioned, thumbing at his bangs as he so often did.

“No, I… it would not bother me in the slightest,” replied Hendrik, enjoyably surprised by Jasper’s appearance before him. He looked away, meaning to preserve some modesty for his friend— and as he observed Jasper step into the waters from the corner of his eye, he noted the sun was indeed now easing toward the horizon; the green of the forest lapsed with many hues of orange filling its branches, and the birds’ chirping had become sparse. This was the first true opportunity he had to speak with Jasper alone in a very long time.

“What brings you out?” asked Hendrik, as Jasper settled himself in the river some distance away from him.

“I longed to bathe,” answered Jasper. He ducked underneath the water, and when he surfaced, he shook to and fro the droplets from his bangs, looking a bit silly like a drying dog as he did; Hendrik could not help but smile. Jasper continued, “It is a simple thing, but a part of my life’s routine that I found a luxuriance. Or, perhaps I wanted to discover if you were still fearful of being all alone in the dark.”

“Humph… I am not.” Hendrik was more than used to teasing such as this from Jasper. In the past he would have thought it an irritancy, but he presently had found himself missing it. Though, he was long beyond the scared snivelling child which Jasper likened him to. Hendrik retorted, “I see that you are still a fop, wanting to bathe though you have no need for it.”

“Hm hm.” Jasper smiled at the riposte, no doubt pleased, for it was rare that Hendrik entertained Jasper’s insults with one of his own. “Where are the Luminary and the rest of her little band of friends? I did not see any of them near your tent.”

“They have gone to vanquish a group of monsters nearby this forest, and to warn a hamlet of the monsters’ presence,” Hendrik explained. “I was left to start a camp here meanwhile, due to my injuries. It is reasonable to think they should be returning from their mission soon, though it would not surprise me either if they found themselves on an errand of some sort.”

“Mm. If you are done with that soap, may I borrow it?”

“Yes, of course.” Hendrik waded towards Jasper’s spot within the stream and handed him the soap.

“Thank you,” said Jasper, who sniffed the bar, and upon finding it to his liking, began to wash his arms.

In their closeness, Hendrik was struck by the sight of Jasper’s glossed skin. Though a spirit, Jasper seemed so radiant— a most beautiful and handsome man, no less than he had been in life. Despite outward appearances, conceit was never truly in his nature, and his heart so sensitive; Hendrik had somehow forgotten the latter amongst the years, as Jasper slowly closed his heart to the world and plunged it in darkness. When Hendrik soothed Jasper’s torment that eve on the castle balcony, Jasper had shown openly a desire to return affairs between them to the way they were— and as their friendship rekindled, Hendrik found his prior attractions more difficult to deny.

Hendrik tore away his gaze, not wishing to stare at his friend. Deciding to continue with his bathing, he left for the shore, kneeling within the grass there to reach for the jars of herbal oils and perfumes, prying out their corks so that he may use them. Upon his left palm Hendrik poured a considerate amount from some jars of oil, as well as a sprinkle of the perfume potpourri inside. He coaxed the mixture into his hair with both hands, and when he had felt that his hair was properly clean after a minute or so of scrubbing, he returned to the river to soak, mulling over his feelings.

“How are your wounds?” questioned Jasper. He had finished with the soap and was now standing a few steps closer to the riverbank, seemingly pausing in the middle of his way to wash his hair.

“They are nothing,” Hendrik assured. “A Night Clubber managed an unexpected critical strike against me, leaving me with a concussion and some bruises. But they were merely temporary, for the healers of our group are quite adept. I am fine now.”

“Oh please, Hendrik. There is no need for you to act so tough towards me,” Jasper spoke, and within his voice somewhere there was an underlying current of scorn, which Hendrik found to upset him, for he could not find any faults within his reply.

Hendrik stood, unable to relax if they were going to have an argument. “I do not understand, Jasper. Why are you lingering on this topic?”

“I could sense through the armour how badly you had been hurt. Your injuries were not nothing, as you so claim,” Jasper replied, frowning.

Hendrik realized then, that Jasper’s true reason for coming out of his armour to see him was because he was worried for him. Perhaps it would be wrong for him to assume such— Jasper was always a challenge to read. Nonetheless, Hendrik reasoned that Jasper had worried on his behalf.

“Jasper…” Hendrik’s heart ached deeply for his friend. “I am nursing a slight headache currently, but I did not consider it an ailment worth mentioning. As you can see with your own eyes, I am fine now. I have survived through worse things; you know this.” He was certain Jasper’s pride would not allow him to openly admit his concerns, so he did not irritate that matter.

“…Yes, I suppose you have.” Jasper sighed through his nose, looking away.

Hendrik spoke, changing the subject, “If you would like, you may look through our supplies there. I cannot speak on the behalf of everyone, but I am sure Princess Jade would not mind if you were to use one of her lotions.”

“Another time, perhaps. For now, I am merely interested in rinsing my hair. …But thank you.” Jasper strode forward out of the water and into the grass. He stooped on one knee, resting the soap on the ground and inspecting the jars there which had been laid out prior.

Hendrik made multiple glances as Jasper raised his well-muscled arms and began to pour a bit of oil into the great cascade of blond that was his hair. It was of a distinguished beauty, Hendrik thought, for Jasper was invariably concerned with maintaining its appearance— yet it must have been difficult to maintain due to its grand length. According to Jasper, his mother had worn a similar style as symbol of her nobility— to maintain it, for him, was to honour her. As Hendrik observed his friend further, an indulgent idea suddenly sprouted within his head. This idea, being spur-of-the-moment, grew at a pace so unexpectedly rapid he could do nothing to stop its escape.

“Um… If you might like it, I could help groom your hair for you,” Hendrik blurted out. As soon as the sound of his own words took hold in the air, and he saw Jasper pause in the middle of his cleaning, Hendrik felt his nerves flutter about him.

Internally cursing his tendency to capriciously speak his thoughts aloud whenever he lowered his guard, Hendrik stammered, “Oh, di-disregard me, it was a foolish suggestion—"

“You may,” said Jasper coolly, his turned expression a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Hendrik’s throat tightened, for Jasper had fairly blocked the retraction of his statement, and so held the expectation that Hendrik would follow through on his offer. For all his longing to be close again to Jasper, Hendrik also dealt with much apprehension, knowing that for many years Jasper had harboured a severe resentment— no— hatred, toward him. He did not believe Jasper continued to hold onto such feelings; rather, he had some fear that his own idolization of his friend would lead him once more to become blinded to Jasper’s feelings, and Hendrik could not blame Jasper were he to reject him on such basis. And yet, Jasper had not rejected him, just now.

“…Very well,” Hendrik said, attempting to summon his nerves. “Come, bring whatever oils or perfumes you like.”

Jasper uprighted himself and approached, holding two of the jars within his hands. Hendrik, though he had wished for exactly this, struggled to abate the fearful tingle which took up comfortable residence in the pit of his stomach.

“I rather like the smell of this one,” expressed Jasper as he entered the deeper waters, and came to a halt short of a pace away. He held out the jar of scented oil, that of which he spoke. “Where is it from?”

“Hm…” Hendrik took it from Jasper and examined it, rotating the jar within his hand. “Regrettably, I could not tell you. I believe this was amongst several purchased by the twin sisters during one of our many shopping trips.”

“Hum.”

With their conversation coming to a lull, Hendrik filled his palm with the oil and replaced the bottle in Jasper’s hand, signalling for Jasper to turn around. There was a moment of hesitation then— it seemed as though Jasper had perhaps something more he wished to say— but in the end, Jasper closed his mouth and said nothing. He spun to face the shore, and Hendrik did not pry.

As Hendrik pressed his fingers between the strands of Jasper’s hair and spread the oil throughout, beginning to overtake him was a sense of calmness. His feelings, he found, were easier to confront when Jasper did not face him. The motions of carding fingers throughout hair were of a methodological pleasure to both of them; Jasper shivered under Hendrik’s touch when the latter’s fingers brushed the back of his scalp. Most agreeably, Jasper's hair took longer to wash than Hendrik’s own, which allowed Hendrik increased time to enjoy this closeness, and the sight of Jasper's unrestrained esthetical locks. To avoid the awkwardness involved in putting his hands too close to Jasper’s behind, Hendrik lifted Jasper’s silky hair some ways away with one hand whenever brushing nearer the ends.

While doing all of this, Hendrik recalled how they similarly helped bathe each other when they were children. Though in those days, their positions were reversed; it was Jasper who had frequently been given the task of ensuring that Hendrik washed himself. This was long before they were of conviction to join the ranks of soldiers, and the castle maids allotted with attending to their baths.

Hendrik remembered that when he first was brought to the castle following the cruel slaughter of his family, he had so severe a depression that he seldom would listen when anyone spoke to him about taking a bath, and struck out against whomever would try to make him. In the end, the King had ordered Jasper to find a way to make the chore more peaceful, as Jasper had also been the one sent to comfort him on his sleepless nights because they were both boys of the same age. At the time he did not express it, if anything expressing the opposite, but he had greatly appreciated Jasper’s aid then.

Once Hendrik felt that Jasper’s hair in the back had been washed sufficiently and made free of any tangles, he said, “I must ask you to turn once more, so I may do your bangs.”

Jasper complied, and stood still as Hendrik spread apart his bangs, combing gently using the oil that remained. Hendrik found it somewhat exciting to do this because Jasper now faced up at him with such handsomeness and intimacy, and so to avoid being overwhelmed he tried very firmly to concentrate on his singular duty: the act of washing. He pushed Jasper’s hair backwards, exposing his forehead, then used his thumbs to brush Jasper’s sideburns which were most commonly hidden underneath his bangs. Now finished with the oiling, Hendrik stopped and made a step back to look at this uncommon view of Jasper.

“Huh? You cannot be leaving me to do the rest by myself?” Jasper glowered at him, bangs styled in a mess.

“No. I am simply admiring my handiwork,” teased Hendrik, bringing up a hand to rest on his bearded chin. “Do you remember how you used to bathe with me when we were children?”

“Yes, I do remember that. Of course I would remember, because it was such an awful task. …That was three decades ago, was it not? Hm.” Jasper crossed his arms in thought.

“Do you remember that time I struggled against you in the bath, and you called me and my family a bunch of filthy bumpkins?” Hendrik spoke of an incident that happened hardly more than a week after their first meeting, a day on which Jasper had ousted him from his torpid state and into the castle washroom.

“I do. I remember quite clearly the way you shoved your fingers up my nose as a way of retaliation. And then, I believe I bit your arm.” There was some fondness in Jasper's voice as he recounted this. Hendrik remembered how his arm bled and later scabbed.

“We both started to cry, and ran to tattle on each other to the Queen… We were so immature, we thought that whomever tattled first would win.”

“Yes. It was quite fortunate the guards were able to snatch us up. The Queen would have been startled, no doubt, were she to have two shrieking naked children burst into her chambers.” As he recalled these events aloud, there were traces of a smirk on Jasper’s features.

“…That was one of our first fights, was it not?” asked Hendrik, after a beat.

“The first true fight. …First of many to come.” All hints of a smile disappeared from Jasper.

“Hm. I do not think I have ever apologized for my behaviour then.”

Jasper’s sights fell upon the water. “You oaf… Do you really think it will do any good to apologize for that now, after all this time?”

“I cannot make you forgive me,” Hendrik conceded, though he felt it in Jasper’s tone that he had already forgiven him for such bygones, and was simply being difficult. “…I did not openly appreciate enough how much you did for me then, after the loss of my family.”

Jasper huffed. “Perhaps I would be willing to consider your apology if you were to end your blathering about the past and finish my hair.”

“Of course.”

Hendrik leaned downward to scoop the river’s water into his hands and poured it atop Jasper’s head. Jasper shut his eyes. Several times more Hendrik repeated the motion, and used his fingernails to sift gently the herb-mixed oil from Jasper’s hair and face; in the midst of doing this he brought Jasper’s bangs to their proper situation, relishing the ability to express his affection for his friend through these caresses of grooming. Jasper seemed to like it as well, which pleased him.

When all was done, Hendrik took from Jasper’s hands the second jar— a delicate, simple perfume that smelt of rose and extract waveweed. He thought it was very much like Jasper to be drawn to such a scent, one which had hints of the ocean. Through the years of training in Puerto Valor, and his skilled leadership of Heliodor’s navy, much of Jasper’s life had been spent connected to the sea.

“How much of it would you like?” Hendrik asked, ready to pour from the jar.

Jasper, appearing somewhat distracted by his thoughts, answered, “…Only a little. Nothing overpowering.”

Hendrik poured a small amount from the perfume into his hand and rubbed it along the back of Jasper’s head, amongst the locks of his hair. He then dripped a second portion, this time working it along the top of Jasper’s bangs and down through them—

“Ugh, you’ve gotten perfume in my eye,” Jasper interjected. He winced in the right eye and moved to clear it with water and the knuckle from his free hand.

“Oh, forgive me,” Hendrik paused to apologize, and internally berated himself for his clumsiness. His eyes wandered as Jasper washed out the perfume, to the large scar which existed across Jasper’s neck— a memento of the wound given by Mordegon under the form of their king, that which had slain him. He tried to shake any thoughts related to it from his mind.

When Jasper had finished rubbing his eye clear and blinked several times, Hendrik asked, “Are you all right now?”

“Mm.” Jasper frowned slightly, but did not look to be truly irritated with him.

Hendrik resumed to apply the remaining perfume, and cupped within his hand a bit of water to pour over Jasper’s head for diluting the scent downward his hair’s length, careful to avoid stinging Jasper’s eyes once again. After he had done this, he dripped a smidge more of the perfume across his fingers. He used this final amount to massage the scent unto the sides of Jasper’s neck, and then withdrew his hand.

Quite pleased with himself now that he had finished his task, Hendrik grinned and searched Jasper’s expression to gauge whether it had all been satisfactory to him. He seemed mildly embarrassed by the ample staring directed toward his face, and looked away; Hendrik found this especially charming and exciting, as Jasper did not ever display such shyness around others. He considered teasing Jasper briefly to further embarrass him, but in the end could not think of something more to say, and so chose to be merciful on his friend’s pride for that moment.

Hendrik motioned to replace the bottle of perfume within Jasper’s hands, thinking to retreat away and retrieve from the grass a set of towels for them. However, before he could do this, Jasper’s hands were swiftly upon his wrist, holding him there, causing him to drop the perfume. Startled, Hendrik met eyes with Jasper to discern his purpose, and his own face soon began to blush hotly, for the expression Jasper met him with was one of wanting. Like a lightning bolt the realization struck Hendrik then, that his previous actions had been rather flirtatious in nature— and now, Jasper was expecting a kiss from him.

Hendrik swallowed, and battled both his internal hesitations and nervous heartbeat so that he could press on. He peered to Jasper’s lips, fantasizing of how pleasant they must be. After a final bout with apprehension, he placed one hand along the jawline of his adored friend, and bent forward his height slightly to convey his desires.

“Ah, um… M-may I…” Hendrik fumbled to get out his question; he found it difficult to finish with the words of “kiss you”— words too embarrassing for one such as him to say.

Fortunately, Jasper could predict the end of his intended phrase.

“You may,” replied he, with half-lidded eyes and a patient smile.

Hendrik leaned down to kiss him, and immediately Jasper tilted upwards into the kiss, pressing their lips together with a noise of satisfaction. As Hendrik closed his eyes and suckled on Jasper’s upper lip, Jasper kissed him in return tenderly, and he felt around his waist Jasper encircling his arms there. Holding their passions, they became blind to all the river and forest around them, and thought only of each other.

After some moments, Jasper pulled away from their kiss with a final voluptuous smack, and laid his head against Hendrik’s chest. Hendrik responded to this by wrapping his arms around Jasper, forming a comfortable embrace between them.

“I have wanted this for so long,” Jasper said between heavy breaths, the deep vibrations of his words palpable upon Hendrik’s skin.

“How long?” asked Hendrik, with a heart that felt light as air.

Jasper paused to collect his thoughts; when he had found them, he confessed, “From the very onset of adolescence, as I discovered my taste for men and women, I also began to feel many things… for you. …There were times when my feelings were stronger than others, but never did they fully fade. Even Mordegon could not take that from me.”

As he softly stroked the top of Jasper’s hair using the edge of his thumb, Hendrik thought to recall within when exactly he had first recognized the nature of his love for Jasper. He was sure his affections began early in their youth, but that love then was particular of camaraderie and admiration, of brotherhood, not yet of a romantic love. The knowing of Jasper being more to him than how a friend would naturally be considered, it came later— he supposed, when he noticed himself longing deeply to see his friend’s face, whenever they had been separated by ocean and duty. Hendrik recalled the time he arrived in Heliodor’s port, after Jasper’s prolonged absence studying away in Sniflheim for magic— and upon discovering how handsome and coolheaded Jasper had matured (for Jasper went to greet him at the docks), Hendrik was overwhelmed with a new feeling.

Yet, never did Hendrik think to be compelled to act upon his feelings. Pursuing courtship was a thing he hardly concerned himself with amongst each of his day-to-day charges, and he had been largely content, in their mere friendship. He also had been afraid— though he did not like to admit it— of seeking a relationship with another man, forsaking the Chivalrous Code, possibly distorting their bond... He did not even learn of Jasper’s own feelings until their exchange that fateful eve on the castle balcony, and the Luminary had later explained to him their great conflict of the previous world. Hendrik lamented as he stroked Jasper’s hair, thinking that perhaps, if he had expressed his affections more openly, if he had noticed sooner how Jasper felt towards him— then perhaps, rather than embrace a phantom, he would have been able to hold his friend in the flesh.

“…The twilight will not remain forever,” said Jasper, prying himself from Hendrik to look at him. “We should dry ourselves off before it is gone, hm?”

Hendrik nodded, and after taking a moment to search for the lost perfume bottle, they both went out to the river’s edge; there, Hendrik took from Jasper his oil and returned each of the clinking jars to the supply pack, as well as the herbal soap. He gathered the fresh linens he had brought and shared one with Jasper, who, after quietly thanking him, made to his own spot in the grass for drying himself, whilst gazing outwards at the darkening sky that lay beyond the forest’s margin. Hendrik stood and found a separate location nearby under a tree, where he laid out a spare towel to sit cleanly by the roots.

As he dried his lower half and listened to the chirping of crickets which had filled the air, Hendrik felt disappointedly lonesome that Jasper did not approach him. He supposed some distance between them might be preferred for the sober processing of emotions after their kiss— but Hendrik could not help but think that, in washing Jasper’s hair, he would also like to take part in drying it. He attempted to acquire Jasper’s attention with his eyes— alas, Jasper still was turned away from him, as he faced the plain across the river’s far side.

In the midst of wringing the droplets from his own locks, Hendrik found his concentration stolen by the sight of Jasper sharply bent forward in an effort to wipe his legs, doing so in a manner which exposed completely his backside and groin. Such a view caused heat, like flame, to spread throughout Hendrik’s belly and tantalize him. He tore away his gaze then, not wishing to stare at his friend in a manner so inappropriate; yet such ardour, which had been ignited, could not be extinguished from his mind in full. Certainly, Jasper was gifted with beauty in many forms…

Hendrik, newly emboldened by the knowledge that his desires were felt mutually, asked, “Might, ah… Might you sit next to me, so that we may dry each other?”

“Oh?” Jasper straightened himself and met Hendrik’s gaze, while bringing upwards a painted nail to fix his bangs. In a deep and devilish inflection, he questioned, “Have you been staring at me?”

“…Oh! I, I…” Dumbfounded, Hendrik’s face became unbearably hot, the sensation rising even to his ears. He forgot to make himself discrete by waiting until Jasper finished bending over before asking his question!

Hendrik’s ability to reason froze, and he was unable to invent a response which could be believed. In his mind he chastised himself for being so clumsy within the span of a single day, questioning what had caused him to become stupid. Then, his embarrassment continued further as he condemned himself into an admission by way of silence that he had been taken to Jasper’s nude form.

“You never were any good at hiding it when you admired someone,” said Jasper in a playfully snide tone; it was plain that Hendrik’s turmoil delighted him.

“’Twas not I who dared expose his arse to the entirety of the glade…” Hendrik muttered out of frustration, finding an alleviation to his cornered shame amongst the branches of a nearby bush. He felt partially as though he had fallen for one of Jasper’s wicked plots. An aspect of him wished to blame Jasper, to believe the man had tried intentionally to seduce him— but he knew in truth that even were Jasper seducing him, naught but his own lack of tact was to blame. Perchance it was inevitable, he thought whilst staring into the shrub, that upon the rekindling of their friendship, the passion for his fellow general which had long submissively lain dormant, and tethered to imaginations, was made impatient to spring forth.

Hendrik’s arboreous musings came to an end when he saw from the corner of his eye Jasper stepping over to sit himself adjacent on the towel, touching their knees together in their closeness. Hendrik gave a great sigh through the nose and acknowledged his company, whom awaited him with an amused expression spread across his face. Not permitting the opportunity for Jasper’s shrewd words to embarrass him further, Hendrik placed the linen he had been using to dry his own hair atop Jasper’s blond head. He then began wiping whatever wetness remained there and along his shoulders and back. Though, little was left to dry between them; it had merely been a poor excuse to call Jasper to his side.

When Hendrik finished his contrived task, Jasper repositioned himself to return the gesture. He removed the wetness from Hendrik’s back; however, realizing there was little else, he quickly tired of playing along. Jasper took both their towels, casting them to the dirt, and placed a hand upon Hendrik’s arm to caress him there.

“Kiss me again,” Jasper said, containing that look of desire in those amber eyes which alighted Hendrik’s nerves.

Obediently, Hendrik bent forward to meet his friend’s sweet lips. He laid his own hands upon Jasper’s waist; and as their sentiments harmonized, warm breaths and hearts mingling, adoration blossomed within him. Then, Hendrik felt his adored friend grasp at his shoulders— Jasper relented in their union, and repositioned himself to sit on Hendrik’s legs, which offered leverage to his height and brought their bodies closer.

The new position was kinder on their necks, and for a moment they did nothing but gaze at the other while recovering their breaths. The sight of Jasper’s blushing cheeks in particular excited Hendrik, who knew himself to be the cause of such an affliction in his friend. Hendrik then resumed their kissing; Jasper’s hands toyed the hair along the back of Hendrik’s neck as he nibbled at Hendrik’s lips and began to tease into Hendrik’s mouth with his tongue.

Thoughts now lost to sensation, Hendrik greeted Jasper’s warm tongue with his own. The stimulating intensity of this form of kiss encouraged from them each soft groans of mutual pleasure, and to this Hendrik felt himself lustfully growing an erection. In time the kissing overwhelmed Hendrik, and so he retreated to recollect his breath. Jasper seized the opportunity to administer fresh kisses upon Hendrik’s beard and throat; and, also sporting a powerful erection, made his mutual arousal known to Hendrik by nudging their pricks together, as he sucked Hendrik’s Adam’s apple.

In gentle up-and-down motions Hendrik scratched Jasper’s back while he allowed Jasper to create love marks along his neck. He sensed Jasper fiddle with the token’s chain between a few fingers, and it then occurred to Hendrik how natural—and how right—all of this seemed to him. To be intimate with his friend of boyhood whom he always held admiration for was a new and rather nerve-racking thing, yet at once came to him a form of affection not dissimilar to the wrestling of their youth, or occasional games of chess, in which the true purpose was to feel pleasant within the company of the other. Hendrik placed his hands alongside Jasper’s jaw to coax him upwards for another kiss of the mouth; and as their breaths exchanged again, and again, Hendrik wondered, was it not natural for two halves of the same soul, to yearn to be made together such as this?

After a time, they separated from their embrace. A trail of spit momentarily connected their mouths, and Hendrik blushed with renewed vigour as Jasper grabbed firmly his erection, enveloping him in a warm pressure there.

“Ah— wait, Jasper,” Hendrik protested, though the sensation of Jasper’s fondling hand was most pleasurable to him.

Jasper removed his hand. “What? Do you not want this?”

“No, I want you, I… It is merely that, I cannot help but feel anxious, with us being out in the wilderness like this. I fear our company may return soon and discover us…”

“If that is all that worries you, then there is nothing to be worried about at all,” claimed Jasper. “I will be able to sense it if someone should approach us. And if still you are with anxiety… I promise I can make it quick.”

Hendrik found that Jasper’s words had indeed calmed his anxieties; he reasoned it was true they would hear in advance were someone to come searching for him. Further dispelling his apprehension was the knowledge that such an opportunity to be alone and intimate with Jasper may not again present itself with such ease.

“Very well. You may…continue,” said Hendrik shyly.

“You are sure?”

“Yes, I am sure,” Hendrik replied, eager for the return of Jasper’s touch.

“So be it,” Jasper grunted, lifting himself and his weight from Hendrik’s lap. He rose onto his feet, then gestured for Hendrik to follow. “Stand up for me.”

Hendrik obeyed, standing tall. With scant a moment for him to wonder what Jasper had planned for them, Jasper swiftly placed a hand upon Hendrik’s chest, and pressed Hendrik rearward until his back had discovered by contact the rough bark of the tree. Though, Jasper did not pin him there for long; with a snap of his fingers, he summoned into his palm the favoured red ribbon which he used to tie his hair. Hendrik observed this whilst full of anticipation.

Once Jasper had bundled his locks, he lowered himself to the height of Hendrik’s erect manhood, gripping his left hand on Hendrik’s hips to steady himself.

“Have you had your cock sucked before?” asked Jasper while he examined Hendrik’s penis, sizing him up.

“Uhm, no,” spoke Hendrik honestly. Though not a virgin, he could have been considered as such, for his sexual encounters were few and far between, and his present disposition nervous— his furious heartbeat threatened to consume his senses.

“Well I suppose you wouldn’t know, but I am quite good at it.”

Lacking in further delay, Jasper took gently the head of Hendrik’s cock inside his mouth, and eased back with widened lip and tongue Hendrik’s large foreskin, to better lick and suck him. Whilst attending to the tip using his mouth, Jasper brought forth his right hand to stroke at the throbbing base; as he did all of this, his eyes focused intently upwards upon Hendrik’s face. Hendrik bit his lip to stifle any noise that threatened escape, and, unsure of what to have occupy his hands, clawed into the tree bark behind him.

Noticing this, Jasper drew back to command, “Grab my hair, if you will.”

Hendrik complied with the instruction, gaining purchase for himself amongst Jasper’s scalp. Jasper rewarded him by removing his right hand and kissing upward, from base to head, the veined underside of Hendrik’s swollen cock. Seeing how pleased Hendrik was by this, Jasper began fondling and kissing Hendrik’s testicles for a while. Then, in a single motion, Hendrik watched as the entire length of his erection disappeared into Jasper’s mouth, feeling the head press deep within Jasper’s warm throat.

“Oh… Ohh, Jasper…” Hendrik moaned, unable to hold back any longer his pleasured cries, as Jasper swallowed around his shaft and repeated upon him this manoeuvre.

Sensing that Hendrik was swiftly nearing climax from the way he quivered and rocked shallowly into his mouth, Jasper withdrew. In a voice made low and coarse, he said whilst looking up at Hendrik, “I want you to finish in my throat.”

Such lewd words heated Hendrik’s entire being; pre-ejaculate leaked generously from the tip of his cock. Jasper slurped at the clear fluid— then stretched his lips again to take in Hendrik’s full length. As Jasper massaged Hendrik’s manhood further with lip and tongue, Hendrik’s whimpers resurfaced in response to the intense pressure building steadily inside him. No more than a dozen strokes passed before Hendrik was grappling Jasper’s head, howling, releasing his seed into Jasper; eagerly Jasper drank it.

His strength depleted, Hendrik fell limp against the tree to pant. Jasper rose to cough and wipe from his own chin dribble as well as a stray bit of Hendrik’s milky fluid, and subsequently began stroking himself with the same hand to the sight of Hendrik’s body. Though Hendrik saw this erotic to behold, and exhaustion enveloped each of his senses, he desired that Jasper at least be repaid for everything he had done— lest it be unfair to him.

Extending one arm out, he said, “Wait, Jasper. Cease that… I want to please you.”

Jasper came to him, and Hendrik kissed his friend once more lovingly on the mouth; Hendrik found himself quickly becoming addicted to this new intoxication. After the separation of their lips, Hendrik grabbed Jasper and pulled him close, so that Jasper’s back was held flush against his own larger chest. In one hand he rubbed Jasper’s hardened erection, which had an attractive curvature to its length and leaked already with warm seed; in the other palm he massaged Jasper’s large testicles. Jasper sighed as he willingly gave Hendrik free reign over him, and held onto Hendrik’s forearm.

Whilst stroking Jasper’s cock, and feeling him throb within his grasp, Hendrik experimentally nibbled along Jasper’s neck and shoulder, tasting and savouring his masculine flesh. As he did this, Hendrik wondered when— and how— Jasper had become so talented with his mouth in the way he had shown just prior. There was no doubting that Jasper had experienced more partners than he, and to this Hendrik felt a tinge of possessive jealousy; though whether it was jealousy of Jasper, or those whom he had made love with, was unclear.

“Do you like this? …Does it feel good?” inquired Hendrik between lavishing kisses and marks upon the muscle of Jasper’s shoulder; he had felt somewhat insecure in his performance, as aside from laboured breaths Jasper had been reserved in his vocalizations.

“Yes, please— do not stop,” Jasper cried at once quietly, leaning towards Hendrik’s touch, and shattering his insecurity.

Hendrik quickened the pace of his wrist, honing on Jasper’s sensitive tip, and delighted in hearing Jasper’s grunts escalate in pitch. From the way he now gripped his nails into Hendrik’s skin, it became evident he was near release, closer than Hendrik imagined.

Hendrik tugged softly on Jasper’s pierced earlobe using teeth and lips. “…I love you,” murmured he, overwhelmed by tender passion and lust. “…You are beautiful.”

Spurred by such praise, Jasper gave a trembling shout of Hendrik’s name and a moan, ejaculating his warm seed within Hendrik’s hand and into the grass before them. Hendrik allowed a minute for Jasper to recover and recline against him— meanwhile admiring Jasper’s flushed and peaceable countenance. Then he withdrew to retrieve one of the towels which Jasper had tossed to the dirt nearby, and used it to wipe at his own sullied hand and groin. He took a moment to brush away a shard of bark which had stuck into his back, also. When done, suddenly, he heard Jasper chuckle a little to himself.

“Hm? Something amuse you?” Hendrik asked, curious. He saw that Jasper was peering upwards to the stars and toying the earring within his earlobe.

Rather airily, Jasper looked to Hendrik and replied, after again laughing to himself, “I suppose one might say… that I had been dying to suck your cock.”

Hendrik frowned and blinked a few times, trying to process Jasper’s pun.

“That is a horrible joke, Jasper.”

“Hm hm hm! Gha ha ha ha! Oh, Hendrik. Your face. An awful jest, indeed.”

Hendrik believed Jasper was free to amuse himself about his condition however he wished, but still found the vulgar joke to be in lousy regard. He had never liked making comedy of death, viewing it a solemn thing. Yet, despite everything he thought, he could not maintain his frown, with the way his friend beamed at him so handsomely.

“Wicked as your tongue may be, you are most lovely when you smile like that,” said Hendrik. Before, such endearments would not have been readily spoken; but he had already given much of his heart to Jasper on this night— and Jasper had received him; his nervousness had, thus, become tame.

In response to the serious flattery, which had conflicted the mood of his musing, Jasper’s grin transformed to a demure frown, and he scratched at the back of his head. Then it was Hendrik’s turn to laugh. How predictable his friend was in this sense, that he reacted poorly to unexpected compliments; it was not even necessary to see through the night’s darkness to determine that his face had bloomed a fine shade of pink. Truly, it pleased him that Jasper remained capable of making his uncouth jokes— a trait of his which had often been reserved for Hendrik’s company.

“Here,” Hendrik offered whilst easing closer to him, “Let me clean you.”

Jasper permitted him to wipe his softened penis with the linen, and after Hendrik had done this, he left to pick up the remaining towels. The darkness of night approached them, and it would soon be too difficult to see with enough clarity.

“…I plan on returning to my tent to get dressed,” said Hendrik whilst retrieving the bathing supplies and his boxer shorts from the ground. “Will you join me?”

“I suppose I shall, if you would have me.”

“Of course.”

  ◅〜✧〜∽〜✧〜∽〜✧〜▻

  Jasper followed him, standing close to his side. As they navigated reversely through the dim wood, Jasper conjured above one finger a purple blaze to aid their sight— or, rather, Hendrik’s sight, for he recalled that as a spirit Jasper could now see within the darkness. It did not take long for them to reach Hendrik’s tent, which had been constructed a short distance away from the remainder of the campsite clearing, on the side nearer the river. Beyond Jasper’s armour and clothes, which had been stationed neatly near his own, everything appeared exactly to Hendrik as when he had left— informing him silently that his companions had yet to return.

While Hendrik set down all that he carried outside of the canvas, Jasper questioned, “I intended to ask you this before. Is there a reason for your tent to be separate from the rest?”

Hendrik held open the tent’s flap; once Jasper had entered and lit the candle, Hendrik crouched inside, kneeling on his sleeping-quilt. Then at length, he spoke, “Well, it is embarrassing to admit, but Erik and Lord Robert both found my snoring to be a great hinderance. Additionally, there was an incident some time ago in which Obsidian broke free from the branch I had tethered him to in the midst of the night, and in trying to locate me for assistance, stuck his head into our shared tent… You can surely imagine, there was a large commotion that followed. I fear I have not always made the best of impressions on my new companions…”

“My, my. And so they chose to oust the Great Hero of Heliodor, unable to handle his snores and lapdog of a horse,” Jasper replied, sitting himself cross-legged near the corner of the quilt, displaying inclination towards Hendrik’s tale with a hand on his cheek.

“It is of no offense to me— it would not do for me to become burdensome by lessening their sleep. I do feel a bit shameful though, I must say, for you see the women do not appear to have any issues sleeping all within the same tent…” After Hendrik finished speaking, he burrowed underneath the cover of his quilt, and, beginning to feel embraced languidly by a sense of light relaxation, laid his head against the downy pillow.

Observing this, Jasper said, “I thought you were wanting to get dressed.”

“Mmh. That is what I thought as well. However, my blankets were calling to me.” He yawned, and continued to feel within his skull his lingering headache’s waxes and wanes, wishing the tiresome assault would cease. He would not voice it, but it had worsened since his entanglement of passion with Jasper, due to him having been propelled through plentiful emotions in succession.

“Hm,” hummed Jasper, thoughtfully.

“…I do hope they are taking good care of Obsidian.”

An amicable quiet then fell between the two of them for a while. Hendrik, turning his head on the side so that he could see what it was Jasper occupied himself with, observed quietly as his friend snooped through the various belongings spaced about the sides of the shelter. His spare clothing, tools, a pouch of jerky he had snacked from earlier in the day… It seemed though the brown sack of reading books, which since his youth he had been in the habit of bringing anytime he journeyed beyond Heliodor’s walls, attracted in particular Jasper’s interest, for he opened it and began to browse Hendrik’s current selection (which featured predominantly of fables and poems).

It was during these moments while Jasper thumbed through pages of the books in trying to find something he liked, that Hendrik found himself once more drawn to Jasper’s naked form, now illuminated strikingly by the candle glow. So distracted was Hendrik by the unrestricted sight of Jasper’s fine legs, and golden hair, and handsome countenance— that he did not realize for quite some time, until it was too late, that Jasper had discovered one of his copies of the Ogler’s Digest, which he had forgotten was concealed amongst the pages of a large magic tome. Hendrik bolted upright, and, seeing Jasper open upon a page with an older woman pinching provocatively at her own large breast, became flustered.

“Whatever are you looking at that for, J-Jasper!?” Hendrik exclaimed as he tried to grab the magazine from Jasper’s hands.

Jasper leaned away and extended his arm, keeping the periodical out of Hendrik’s reach. “Ha ha ha. Why am I not surprised that you still collect this rubbish?”

Hendrik growled in defeat, feeling disinclined to continue this fight; his sudden movements had caused the throb in his head to sharpen unpleasantly. He receded from Jasper’s personal space while feeling his temple.

“Do not worry,” said Jasper with a victorious smirk on his lips, “I will make sure to keep its location secret for you.”

Jasper replaced the magazine to its hiding spot and closed the tome, playfully feigning unnotice of the way Hendrik sighed and scowled in his direction. Though, how hard it was for Hendrik to retain his displeasure, when it was Jasper’s bonny visage which ignored him! Hendrik made a retreat to his blanket and pillow, musing— and as he did this, Jasper stepped over him, toting some of his books, which he then set upon the ground. He slid his legs under Hendrik’s quilt, sitting adjacently.

Within Jasper’s eyes existed a curious, fascinated lustre— that of someone upon unfamiliar ground. It served to remind Hendrik that their friendship had decayed for many years, and stung him. Hendrik then envisioned the beastly form Jasper took when they last fought, and the extent to which Jasper’s furiosity and pain, of which he was vastly ignorant, culminated without hindrance. Such a contrast from the Jasper who appeared before him now— though the difference was one time would mend, Hendrik knew.

“I wonder if the Ogler’s Digest copy you once gave me is still in my room,” said Jasper, suddenly.

Astonished and amused, Hendrik questioned, “You held onto it?”

Jasper nodded. “I think I had left it under the corner of one of the bookshelves.”

“I see. Your room is being maintained currently as it was. So, it is likely still there.”

“Hm.” Jasper, who seemed satisfied by this information, opened a chosen novel to skim.

Meanwhile, Hendrik felt lost in his own quiet meditations. The day had taken such an unexpected turn, he thought. Scant more than an hour prior, he had been full of uncertainty whether Jasper would reject his attractions— in hindsight, it was odd to think of. He had tasted Jasper’s lips many times, made love with him, and now, Jasper presently sat beside him in bed, thumbing silently through the pages of a story; everything seemed at once familiar and unfamiliar to him. Furthermore, he found he did not regret any of the things he had just done.

“I have missed our talks,” Hendrik shared aloud. He reminisced over their old tendency to chatter endlessly into the night whilst in the barracks of Puerto Valor— something which Don Rodrigo had chided them over often, as it would result occasionally in detriment to their hours of sleep, and training performances come the morning.

“Mm,” Jasper replied, and did not look to him. It was a greater gesture than he was known to give, his nose being nigh impossible to excavate by others from the pages of a book. Hendrik was satisfied by this response. He saw that Jasper’s held novel was one he himself had yet to begin, an aged fable from his homeland of Zwaardsrust, and so could not imagine whether Jasper enjoyed it.

Whilst staring upwards to the tanned ceiling of canvas, hands resting under his head and elbows pointed outward, and glancing aside to observe Jasper’s reading on occasion, Hendrik reminisced further. He thought of how fortunate he was that his friend had been such a uniquely skilled mage, as to afford him his presence beyond life, and to allow the second chance for words which should have been said by him long ago. He could not forget the joy and wonder he felt that day on which Jasper manifested to lead him to his allies through the bamboo trail of Hotto, and it had become evident that Jasper may still leave his mark on the world, albeit in spiritual method.

Hendrik wondered as the cool night breeze wafted over him and flickered momentarily the candle within the tent: if he were to come from a lineage of mages, such as Jasper or the young twins of Arboria, would it have been possible to meet with his family once more similarly? Though, it would be wholly unnatural for a world of Yggdrasil’s design if the same talent in magic was to each person common, and death would then be made meaningless. Hendrik considered at a future date, he would perhaps inquire Jasper for his opinion on the subject, as he did enjoy such conceptual discussions; and Hendrik liked to indulge him, though he most often lost track of understanding whenever Jasper spoke passionately of the more advanced magics.

“Do you mean to sleep?” asked Jasper after a while had come to pass in silence, folding his page along the corner and setting the book to one side.

“I thought I might. I am very tired.” Though a few hours sooner than usual for him to sleep, fatigue had settled into Hendrik’s present state, and he had been made quite cosy in bed like this. Were he alone, he would have found it a difficulty to sleep; yet, Jasper’s presence by his side had relaxed Hendrik much.

Jasper observed him, then followed another question. “Is your headache still bothering you?”

“It is,” Hendrik confessed.

“Then perhaps it would be best to stay awake until the Luminary returns, and your injury can be more closely examined.”

“As I said earlier, it is merely a headache, and nothing more,” Hendrik insisted, “There is no need for concern, Jasper.”

“…Do you… want me to stay with you?”

“Yes.” Hendrik noticed Jasper’s expression, which seemed in that moment to have subtle insecurity, and reached to take Jasper’s hand in his own, interweaving each of their fingers. He wanted to express to Jasper in a manner which could not be misunderstood— that he had not grown tired by his presence. To the contrary, he could not get enough of it, as they had been deprived for so long of their close friendship. He added, emphasizing, “…Please.”

Jasper’s appearance softened, and he squeezed Hendrik’s hand warmly. “All right. Make room, would you?”

Hendrik shifted away from the centre in compliance to yield more space in his sleeping-mat, which really was intended for the comfortable housing of only one person. Yet, as Jasper pressed close to his side, caressing Hendrik’s calloused hand with his own under the obscurity of the blankets, Hendrik thought: nothing could be more of a blissful comfort to him than this. They remained in such a way for some time, sharing the same pillow, quietly hearing the other breathe; and, eventually, Hendrik was lulled near the vagueness which existed between awareness and slumber, eyelids becoming difficult to keep open, and the lingering aroma of Jasper’s slight perfume permeating his nose.

Hendrik knew— there was much unspoken that would need to be discussed regarding their future; he also understood that, between them, such a talk could be postponed, at least until a day by which his mental clarity would be afforded sharper.

As though the day had yet to be done with him, the high-pitched buzz of a small insect’s wings stirred Hendrik from his half-slumbering state, irritating close to his ear. He harshly clapped the side of his own cheek to kill it, and was almost certain he had at first— till the foul noise renewed seconds later and he sighted the pest hovering around him.

“Grr. Damned mosquito,” fussed Hendrik. He sat upright and positioned both hands to strike and smother the creature, which then nimbly flew to the other side of the tent.

Jasper, having been disturbed as well by this point, rose also. “Where?” He inquired.

“Over there.” Hendrik pointed to the hovering speck’s location. In nearly an instant he saw it consumed by one of Jasper’s controlled flames, frizzling into naught. Impressed with such a display of accuracy, he lauded his friend, “Hah! You are ever my saviour when it comes to those odious things.”

Jasper appeared thoughtful, and rubbed at his neck. “Say. Do you recall—”

“Yes,” Hendrik blurted, quite certain they had just shared the same thought.

“—in Puerto Valor, when—”

“Yes.”

Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you interrupting me?”

“Because I know what you are going to say.”

“What am I going to say?”

“You are thinking of the time I broke my knuckle when I was twelve, while trying to punch that cockroach on the wall near my bed.” Hendrik displayed fondly the same knuckle, which had been avenged by Jasper’s practiced Zam.

“Mm… That is what I was thinking of.” Hendrik laughed at this, and Jasper smiled at him, displaying his teeth in a gentle manner which most delighted Hendrik’s heart. The frivolity of their shared memory was ended soon, however— as that smile transformed to a sour grimace of pain, and Jasper recoiled forward. “Urgh,” he groaned, whilst holding his throat.

“What is wrong? Jasper?” Hendrik gauged to find injury, but could see none, as Jasper’s hand obscured his vision.

For a while Jasper said nothing, his eyes and brows furrowed, his breathing quietly laboured as he clutched his own neck— Hendrik leaned with worried advertency. Eventually, the moment passed; Jasper calmed of his painful fit, and, after opening his eyes, spoke.

“When I remain for so long outside of my station, playing amongst the living… my wound begins to tear.” He removed his hand, gazing at it. “Using magic to harm a living creature as I have just done hastens the outcome, it seems.”

As Hendrik listened, he caught sight of the crimson stain that tarnished Jasper’s palm, and the fresher appearance held by the scar along Jasper’s neck, akin to a newly forming scab. Upon witnessing all of this, Hendrik’s own blood became like ice, and his nerves tightened unrestrainedly within him. He moved closer, saying, “H-here, let me.”

Hendrik made to press his fingers lightly over Jasper’s throat. Though there was a prolonged attempt to apply a curing spell, Hendrik could sense that Jasper’s skin was not receiving the magic— the wound remaining unaffected, for it was of a spiritual body that did not truly exist. Hendrik withdrew, and the look of sorrow which Jasper gave him, as well as the seemingly real, warm bloodstains on his fingers, frightened him.

“I… Jasper…” Hendrik recoiled backward. His eyes were stung by the salt of forming tears, and at once the imagery of Jasper’s execution, which he had before tried to expel, flooded freely into his mind. Mordegon, as the King, seized Jasper’s hair within a cruel fist, and, using the length of Carnelian’s blade, tore open Jasper’s throat— Jasper coughed, made many desperate appeals for breath to no avail, as he then vomited his own blood— and during all of this, the brief interval where the man who had filled the void of Hendrik’s youth still lived, and grappled weakly within Yggdrasil’s grass to stable himself, Hendrik made no act but paralyzed observation. Hendrik trembled as he recalled these memories, and felt once more paralyzed by emotion.

“I did not realize… it was hurting you to— to be with me,” Hendrik choked through unwilling inhalations and flowing tears, which he wiped in vain with his knuckles, unable to clear his vision. The reaction was a shameful one, Hendrik knew, but he was at the moment shrouded to all the sensations of the world around him aside his own racing heartbeat, and experienced only the chilling recollections which served as his vivid nightmares of not so long ago; he lacked the strength to soothe himself and break free from his bout of sickness.

“Hendrik… It will be okay,” said Jasper’s concerned voice.

Hendrik felt Jasper’s arms embracing him, though at first the sensations were dim, as if they could have been happening to someone other than he. Jasper held him so, and after some time, when the deep heaving of Hendrik’s chest began to ease somewhat, he chided, “How is it that you can mourn for one as wretched as I? Please, feel no pity for me. I said as much before, did I not?”

“My tears are not— formed of pity, to insult you. Do not be mistaken. I… I merely… am grateful, that you chose to be here, with me,” sniffled Hendrik, who still wept, though Jasper’s firm hold and petting of his hair had reined him away from repeating the harsh imageries which plagued his mind. As he composed his breathing, Hendrik continued to speak, “…I… I truly meant it… when I said that I loved you. I am a fool for doing nothing as you became so distant. I hesitated, until the distance between us was far too great, and I could no longer save you.”

Hendrik then sensed a new warmth pouring down upon his shoulder in heavy drops. He perceived this quickly to be Jasper’s tears, and so startled was he by this—for in his struggle with his own emotions, had not perceived he had upset Jasper— that his awareness became drawn forth completely, and restored of the present setting.

“…I am a greater fool…!” cried Jasper over his shoulder in a tone of bitterness, clenching his fingers into Hendrik’s back. “For so long, I thought… you did not need me. Did not want me. I let... Mordegon feed me such thoughts, and so I… sought to abandon you first— and surpass you.” He freed Hendrik of the embrace then to sit back and wipe at his own eyes and nose. “…Ugh… Look at how your miserable weeping has— has spread to me.”

As vision cleared within Hendrik’s startled eyes— that wished to follow Jasper’s words and glimpse upon a sight they had last observed fair twice a decade ago— Hendrik first witnessed Jasper’s state: face flushed red and adorned with translucent streaks of remorse. His own anguish now melted, Hendrik checked the state of his hands, affirming that the reaction his mind took was indeed exaggerated. The amount of blood shed had been akin to a mild scrape of the knee; he had simply been frightened by Jasper’s wound, and lost the ability to determine realness from delusion.

“You are… all right?” asked Hendrik in a voice made timid from his outburst. He peered over Jasper’s neck, which did not look to bleed or provoke further. Through his lucidity, Hendrik suddenly recalled then a tale he had almost forgotten told by Jasper’s favourite maid— who, with the habitual adjusting of her spectacles, reported of the poltergeist roaming the castle halls, and, before any had guessed the thing’s identity, mentioned the detail that blood seemed to drip from the throat; perhaps it was the same phenomenon.

“It is plain to see, I am all right,” said Jasper with moist-eyed countenance and an affected voice. Then, noticing the objection forming already in Hendrik’s mouth at such a statement, he sighed drearily. “Rather, my neck. It begins a dull ache— which I hardly perceive, so long as I, *sniff*, do not overstay my welcome, and remain for more than an hour or so. If I do, it worsens each hour, until it bleeds openly— and for some reason or other flares when I use my magic willy-nilly. I did not quite realize that part until now. I meant to tell you of it sooner, but I did not wish to spoil our gaiety.” He turned away as he finished his explanation.

Sporting a knitted brow, Hendrik mulled carefully over the meaning of Jasper’s words. Then he moved aside to procure from his bag of tools a fresh cotton rag. He used it to cleanse his own face and hands, and after, motioned with the intent to do the same for Jasper.

“If what you say is true, then surely you must be hurting. More than an hour has passed,” said Hendrik as he coerced open Jasper’s hands and wiped the blood there. “…How can you fault me for not wishing to disclose my meagre headache to you, while you conceal an affliction like this from me?”

Jasper frowned at him, whilst tilting his chin up in permissiveness so Hendrik may pat dry the blood of his throat. “That… It is not the same thing.” He did not elaborate on his argument until Hendrik had finished; then, he continued, speaking without meeting Hendrik wholly in the eye.

“I agreed to this pain, so that I might remain in this world and atone rightly for what I have done. You have no memories of the previous world, but… when I died, I remembered. Everything. The scar I bear on my neck, it is hardly due punishment. You would not be so willing to sympathize, perhaps… if you knew of all I had done.”

“It does not matter,” said Hendrik firmly, placing a hand upon his friend’s shoulder and commanding his full gaze. “The evil has been undone. It is true that I do not remember. However, the Luminary remembers, and while knowing all you have done, she has chosen to forgive you. And I stand by the opinion of the Luminary.”

Jasper seemed pierced instantly by Hendrik’s words. His lip quivered, and then he made to cover his eyes, as though attempting to impede yet another flow of tears. It appeared he could say nothing in response.

“Enough…” Hendrik spoke again, wishing not to linger on these ill subjects more than was necessary. “Enough of this. Let us return to as we were before.”

Jasper lowered his arm, and opportunely, Hendrik grabbed his sulking friend and pulled him close. With a slight “oof” escaping from Jasper, both of their heads were returned to Hendrik’s pillow, and Hendrik released his grapple. Faces now made inches apart, Hendrik gave a little smile. Jasper, still recovering from his poor mood, did not mirror the expression; though, he also did not complain or show discomfort, instead looking at Hendrik neutrally.

Hendrik grabbed up the quilt to cover them, then brushed Jasper’s bangs to the side and behind his ear. As he stroked the side of Jasper’s face with one thumb, he thought: how difficult it was to fathom that this man, his friend, his most cherished of all companions— had once revered him, and sought to outshine him— he, who had always seen Jasper as his own personal font of inspiration. Speculating of the past, Hendrik recalled distinctly how two months shy of his return from Puerto Valor, Jasper had already managed to devise numerous stratagems accounting for their difference in physique to defeat him when sparring— and they had become equals of the blade once more, or so Hendrik had seen. Aside from that fleeting period during which Hendrik’s matured physique presented a new and empowering advantage, he had viewed Jasper always the superior warrior. Jasper’s sublime aptitude for fighting-magics— which they had come to the agreement long ago to exclude from the majority of their contests— left Hendrik eclipsed perpetually. Further unimaginable to him was that the occasional displays of favouritism by their king, whose opinion Jasper would rebel dauntlessly, belying an imperturbable self-esteem, would lead Jasper to doubt himself; truly, Hendrik dared not imagine the tortures Mordegon must have inflicted on his mind to reduce him in such a way.

“It has been many years since I last saw you cry openly in front of me, Jasper,” said Hendrik, continuing to touch Jasper’s cheek. “Next time I see such a thing, I would rather that they be tears of laughter, or joyfulness.”

“Stop it… Your words have the opposite effect as you intend,” Jasper said with a frown.

“Hm.” Hendrik reminded himself of Jasper’s crucial sensitivity; he rolled onto his back and retraced his eyes to the ceiling, rubbing his beard whilst thinking. He japed, “If that is true, I would hate it if you were to kiss me right now.”

Jasper scoffed. Then, after some deliberation, he leaned over top of Hendrik, and kissed him. Their lips met in a manner tender and slow, a simple tasting of the other man with affection. As they did this, Hendrik felt Jasper’s waist, and the length of his bundled ponytail; meanwhile Jasper splayed the hand he did not use to steady himself amongst Hendrik’s chest fur. Their tongues playfully dipped into the other’s mouths, and in response to this, Hendrik’s face flushed warm with want— though it was of a low-burning ember, kindled by endearment.

The two remained in such a way for a while. So distracted were they, by the comfort found through each other’s lips, that neither of them noticed, until it was too late, the approaching voice beyond the tent.

“Looks like he’s got a candle lit,” said Veronica inquisitively, though her words fell upon inattentive ears. She trotted onward through the grass, and entered Hendrik’s tent by slipping past the flap.

“WAH!” Veronica flung her arms to shield her head, and lifted one leg into the air, as though she had been attacked by the scene which she had stumbled upon.

With very little time given to react to any of this beyond the widening of their eyes and separating of their faces, both men stiffened awkwardly at the young girl’s intrusion. Hendrik in a haste shifted upright so that he may address whatever it was Veronica came for. However, it proved difficult with Jasper remaining partway atop him, attempting to make himself invisible, as he looked backward at Veronica with discomfort.

“Err… um…” Though Hendrik would have liked to diffuse the air of uncomfortableness by speaking, his mind fumbled, his ears burned hotly, and he accomplished naught other than the furthering of his own embarrassment.

“L-l-look, you…!” Veronica thrust a finger out at him, and focused her sight on the tan wall of canvas, to preserve what survived of their modesty. “Before you go and get too friendly with Jasper the friendly ghost here, Jade wants you to come eat dinner with us! Got it!?”

Hendrik blinked once, and Veronica rushed out through the tent. Beyond the canvas barrier, she could be heard pacing off, and saying under her breath after some short distance, though still quite audibly, “Aaarrghh! I knew it!” before continuing on her way.

“Ahem,” Hendrik coughed. “…I suppose… I will be getting dressed after all.”

As Hendrik pinched the bridge of his nose and winced, thanking silently the Goddess for the nether halves of himself and Jasper being hidden by the quilt from Veronica’s sight, Jasper sat up, returning to his proper form.

“Humph… What a shame, it seems it was not in your day’s fate to retire early. …If you truly mean to follow the girl’s order, that is,” said Jasper, who smoothed the back of his hair.

“It would not do for me to ignore a summons of the Princess,” Hendrik replied. He grabbed his bag of spare clothes, and stood to dress. “I um… apologize, for the intrusion. As one to travel with us, I should inform you— there is little privacy amongst us.”

“So I have been made aware.”

Whilst he donned his trousers, Hendrik began to perceive imaginatively Jasper’s scrutinizing watch upon him. Hendrik most often cared little for how his clothes coordinated; yet, in Jasper’s presence, he now became more conscious of his choice in outfit, lest Jasper, invariably concerned with appearances— including those of others— critique what he chose. Spending a moment to select an ivory-coloured lace-up shirt, which he thought would pair well with the dark brown of his legwear, Hendrik dressed himself; and to his satisfaction, Jasper made no ill comment towards anything. However, as he turned, he saw that Jasper had not moved from underneath the quilt in a sulk— anticipating, perhaps, Hendrik’s departure from him.

Not wishing for this to be the case, Hendrik said, “Jasper, I would like it very much if you were to come have supper with us. With me.”

Again, that look of subtle uncertainty crossed Jasper’s features, one which Hendrik alone could recognize. “They have no reason to want me around, tarnishing the mood of their meal. I ought to just return to your armour for now.”

Reassuringly, Hendrik spoke, “I do not mean to force you, or burden you, if your scar has become too much to bear. However, know I would prefer to have you by my side.”

Hendrik could not discern easily the true reason as to why Jasper was hesitant. Yet, he would make a guess of the culprit being Jasper’s hardship in feeling connections with others. Hendrik had observed this trait for the last three decades— the manner in which Jasper wore his different masks at court, playing to earn favour amongst nobles on the behalf of the king, and, for himself. Jasper had told him once after a night of heavy ale-drinking how much he hated it all. He was bad with people. He had few trusted friends, for he mistrusted most, and seldom exposed his inner feelings. Protecting himself from the falsehoods of others, to which he was sensitive, he shrouded himself in falsehoods of his own; Hendrik had lectured him once on the counterproductivity of it, wishing to see Jasper prosper in friendship— but did no good, for such behaviour, he learned over time, was constitutive of Jasper’s very character. Though, that did not mean Hendrik would give up his effort.

“Are you capable of eating still?” questioned Hendrik, attempting to eliminate another possible reason for Jasper’s reluctance.

“I am.”

“You must know, Jasper, that they will surely warm to your presence in time, just as they have grown accustomed to my own presence. Princess Jade would like to see you as well; she has said as much to me on more than one occasion.”

“Very well— if you insist,” yielded Jasper, who stood raising his hands in mock-surrender, and, despite sounding displeased in tone, could not refrain from a partial grin, after seeing how Hendrik’s expression brightened upon his successful attempt of persuasion. “I suppose I should not neglect the Princess. But first things first. I will need a little while, to salvage something I can wear from your bizarre wardrobe.”

There was the quip he anticipated; Hendrik slightly rolled his eyes. How seldom it was since the days of their boyhood, that Jasper did not balance his kindnesses by addition of an insult of some sort in this manner; he was much like a stubborn rose, which does not permit the reward of its sweet blossom, without one first being grazed by the briar.

“Do not wait for me,” added Jasper, who had already begun poking around in Hendrik’s garments.

“My clothes?”

“There is no fun in being limited to the outfit I wore when I died.”

Hendrik nodded, thinking this reasonable. “As you wish.”

  ◅〜✧〜∽〜✧〜∽〜✧〜▻

  While he made leave of his tent to give Jasper his privacy, and began the minor walk towards the main of the camping-site, Hendrik thought. He considered that he might soon request of his companions an eventual return to Heliodor, so he may collect for Jasper some extra travelling clothes. Hendrik recalled there was also the matter of the heavy stacks of documentation sitting upon Jasper’s desk, which Jasper alone had authority and capableness of administration; and which, throughout his absence grew heftier, bequeathing unto the restored king and chancery a fuddling labour. It was important that Jasper be brought to solve this issue sometime, as well as other obstacles begotten by his abrupt and untimely death; for he had no heirs, presumably. Though, Hendrik would not expect to burden a slain man with trifles like paperwork. He surmised a trusted chancellor could be found suitable to the task, or, for it was possible there would be no such chancellor whom Jasper deemed worthy of assigning his matters, Hendrik would resolve to undertake personally his friend’s leftover burdens.

Setting upon the encampment, Hendrik sighted the familiar faces of his allies. In the midst of a patch of dirt there was a mild campfire, and around this was seated the Luminary and each of her other companions, except for Erik and Princess Jade, who stood in application over the flames, attending to a pair of kettle-pots. In the air could be whiffed a melding of scents— of forest, fire, and feast— the last of which Hendrik’s stomach anticipated eagerly with a rumble.

“Hello everyone,” greeted Hendrik as he approached the group. Nearest to him was Lord Robert, and on either side of Lord Robert sat Sylvia, then Serena. Across from the fire, observing Princess Jade and Erik as they worked on their meal, sat the Luminary and Veronica atop a log.

“Hello, Sir Hendrik. I’m glad to see ye’ve healed yerself up nicely,” said Lord Robert, who looked up at Hendrik and then folded his arms. “…Though I cannae help but notice ye’ve somehow got a few new bruises round yer neck. Hyeh heh heh…” He gave a sly wink of knowing Hendrik’s affairs.

“Ah…!” Hendrik blushed, touching at his own neck. Because he was preoccupied earlier in trying to choose an outfit Jasper would be pleased by, he had forgotten the love marks strewn across him, which his present shirt worn displayed quite brazenly. Shame burned at Hendrik’s cheeks and ears as he imagined how improper his appearance must seem to everyone— briefly, he considered returning to change into a more concealing sweater. Yet, it was too late, for the only outfit capable now of smothering the disgracefulness he felt would be his full suit of armour.

“Apologies for my appearance.”

“Ye know, I’ve had a feeling there was something between the two of ye ever since ye freed Jasper’s soul back at the castle. Most of us have. I cannae pretend to understand the bond ye’ve both got, but I’m happy ye’ve gotten back with yer auld friend. Aye, I remember how ye were so joined at the hip as bairns.” Lord Robert leaned to give a lively pat against Hendrik’s shin as he said this.

“I… thank you, Lord Robert,” said Hendrik. He had been a crumb nervous to think his allies may not be so accepting initially of a relationship between him and Jasper. His worries were, favourably, dispelled with swiftness— until he realized there had been no prior indication that it was Jasper who was behind the bruises. “But how did you…”

“I’m glad for you as well, Sir Hendrik,” stated Serena with beaming countenance, to which Hendrik replied a friendly curl of the lips, despite his confusion.

Behind him, Hendrik heard a most exaggerated coughing noise— a clear attempt at luring his attention. When he faced the source he saw Sylvia, wiping her shawm using a thin cloth. Within her visage there was, beneath her calm demeanour, a resolute look directed towards Hendrik, and he could promptly anticipate that much waged in her mind.

Sylvia spoke, “As much as I’d love to bombard you with all kinds of questions and relationship advice— ah-ah, don’t give me that grumpy glare, darling, you know you need it. Listen, you must be tired, so I’m cutting you some slack for today, okay? But just for today!”

Hendrik at first found it somewhat overbearing that she would presume to hold an invitation to pry open his affairs and give advice concerning his closest friend— but he then recalled the recent words of Sylvia’s father. He had encouraged him to seek support in her as a fellow knight, though she had herself discarded knighthood for the circus; and upon a second thought, Hendrik knew her wisdom to be of value. There was little doubt whether she more superiorly understood romance than he, including relations which lay outside of the expected male-female pairing— those which the Code of Chivalry did not prescribe. Indeed, he planned to make use of her offer for advice, and mellowed his demeanour with a sigh.

He said, “Hrmm. I suppose I will need to brace myself for tomorrow, then.”

“If it’s romantic advice yer after,” added Lord Robert, “I may have a thing or two to show ye as well.”

Hendrik found it difficult to refuse such a proposition, so he replied, “Of course. Thank you, Lord Robert.”

Seeing himself already at the centre of much of the party’s attention, Hendrik decided now would be the time to announce that which he had been intending to mention all along. He faced those to whom he had not yet spoken beyond the flames, and after coughing to furnish his throat, swelled outward his chest.

“I have invited Jasper to eat dinner with us,” said Hendrik with raised inflection, to ensure everyone could hear him. “I trust that will be all right.”

As was expected by him, there were no objections— only the looking on of those across the blaze, pausing temporarily in their occupation to see Hendrik. At this, he approached the Princess by the iron cauldron to greet her.

“Princess.” Hendrik bowed in humble deference when he drew upon her.

Over her shoulder was Erik, who, insufficiently employing subtlety, gawped at the bruises adorned on the neck by Hendrik. Hendrik strove in earnest to ignore this peeping.

“Hendrik. How are you feeling?” asked Princess Jade.

“I am faring quite well, thanks to the marvelousness of our healers.”

Hendrik observed her cooking; it appeared to be a savoury stew of some kind, and he noted with happiness the presence of mushrooms. Heavenly was the aroma coming from it, and he eagerly awaited to taste it, considering a dish made by the Princess to be an unparalleled honour (and by familiarity of her culinary hobby over the course of their travels, that which she had honed to a prowess, knew to be an honour indeed).

“I’m afraid it’ll be a little while before the food is done. The stew needs a few more minutes to simmer, and Erik’s only halfway through the rice.” She stirred into the pot with a ladle, revealing in a swirl an enticing array of ingredients.

“Is there any way I can be of assistance to you?”

“No, no,” said Princess Jade, who waved her hand averringly. “Erik and I have it fully covered.”

Hendrik nodded. “Your visit to the hamlet went well, I take it?”

“Yes, the people were all very kind, and there were a couple of nice shops. That’s why it took so long for us to return here. Some of us got a bit carried away with spending…” Her demure smirk implicated herself as one amongst the guilty.

Hendrik nodded again; to know she had a good time pleased him. He monitored for a moment longer as his companions developed their meal. Erik stole a large drink from the cooking-wine amphora, in the midst of preparing a batch of spices for his simmering side dish. In the background of the emanating, grey banners of smoke, could be heard the faint murmurs of the Luminary conversing with Veronica, as well as a practiced tune from the musical instrument of the jester. There was a friendly air to the night and Hendrik felt peace’s comfort, after a day which had been a stream of many events.

“I’m happy you and Jasper are becoming close again…” commented Princess Jade after some time, containing a dainty smile. “…With some, ah, new developments.”

The reply that sat upon Hendrik’s tongue, as he wondered how exactly it was that everyone spoke with such certainty regarding the culprit behind his love bites, had only got out scant a syllable before Veronica interrupted, “I tooold yoouuuuu.”

Her words were meant for Erik, who responded a loose shrug, and, “Okay, okay. You were right— I was wrong. I admit it.”

“Cough up. Five-hundred.” Veronica held out her hand, wiggling her fingers, and grinned.

“Gah, you’re really gonna make me walk over there…?”

Perplexed, Hendrik tilted his head to the side and saw as Erik sorted five-hundred’s worth in coins from his belt-pouch, bringing them to destination within Veronica’s palm. Hendrik questioned, “You had a… wager of some kind?”

“Yup,” answered Veronica. “We made a bet on whether you and Jasper were in love or not.”

Many emotions coursed in one instant through Hendrik at this blunt revelation: confusion, wonder, offense, disturbance, annoyance. The part of him experiencing annoyance suggested first that he ought to scold them for such petty conduct. Yet, he knew also, upon further confounding thought, that there was no harm in a friendly rumour, moreso one which was in fact the truth; though still he may not have enjoyed serving as its centrepiece. The countenances of the Princess and Luminary, their faint amusement contrasting with the convoluted expression worn by Hendrik, who stood mouth agape, made more apparent this wager had been a mystery only to he.

“Sorry,” Erik said sheepishly. “I just couldn’t picture either of you being lovey-dovey like that.”

“Oh, they were getting lovey-dovey alright. Jasper even turned all transparent when I walked in on them… hah! Scaring a ghost pale is a pretty impressive feat, I’d say.”

“Erik, honey, you really need to get to know Hendrik better,” remarked Sylvia, who had paused her music to find and swig from a water-skin— or, rather, settle herself amidst the gossip.

“Hey, maybe I’m just not interested in the relationship status of the two guys who threw me in jail and tied me to a big pole…” Turning to Hendrik once more, Erik said, “Uh, don’t think I’m holding any grudges though, alright?”

“C-can we please change the subject to something— anything, else?” Hendrik pleaded, desperate to quell the burning of his cheeks, believing if the conversation did not cease now, the chattering of his companions regarding his personal affairs might carry on without end. “I… Oh! Right. Excuse me, Princess. I am going to see Obsidian.”

Erik faced the Luminary. “You know, you could’ve warned me I was making a bad bet…”

She shrugged, glancing upward to the darkened heavens in a mock of innocence. “I thought it’d be cheating to say.”

Upon the outskirts of the campfire’s brilliance, wherein was erected the improvised stable, there were the horses. High and proud stood Obsidian, surveying the wood as the mare of the Luminary slept on one side. Hendrik noted fondly the mirroring of horse and rider in behaviour; and with quiet steps, he drew upon his steed.

“Hello,” Hendrik spoke softly, offering forward a hand to his equine companion to sniff, “Hello, my friend.”

His owner scratching the black fur of his shoulders, and feeling grateful for this refuge from the gossiping of hens, Obsidian nickered in good-tempered greeting; he lowered his head to invite scratches further. Though, as this happened, the stallion’s ears curved rearward for some seconds, whilst he met Hendrik in the eye, and Hendrik knew this to be a communication of displeasure.

“Are you angry I left you?” Hendrik rubbed Obsidian’s jowl as he made his questions, “Were you behaved as a gentleman?”

Hendrik intended to stroke his horse’s mane— however, he was halted by two things from doing this. The first of these was that, as he motioned to feel Obsidian’s hair using his fingertips, he realized the locks there had been moulded into many delicate braids. Examining closer beyond the night’s blackness, here through which vision marginally pierced, Hendrik noticed secondly the presence of numerous patterned bows. These odd decorations, as well as their flamboyant shapes and colours, were known to Hendrik even in dimness— for they were donned commonly by the Princess and Veronica. While Hendrik observed these things, he began to have a clearer imagination regarding what Obsidian had been through during the day…

Thinking the variance of hair-style may be the incitement of Obsidian’s displeasure, Hendrik spent the next several minutes loosening the braids and picking off their ribbons. An owl’s hoot resounded in the wood as he silently combed his fingers throughout the mane’s strands. He did not voice it, but within, he lauded Obsidian’s tolerance of such foolishness. It was most common that Obsidian displayed unruly temperament when those other than Hendrik attempted to handle him; Hendrik imagined the Princess must have, to accomplish a feat such as this, placated him with treats.

“So, this is where you were,” said Jasper’s voice, approaching from the side of the campfire.

Hendrik turned to see him, and his spirits were immediately elevated upon viewing the handsomeness with which his friend donned his clothes. Jasper wore Hendrik’s black robe of silk, which had been fitted more suitable his form by rolling the sleeves, and tying about his hip a thin sash, one of similar colour and material. He wore also Hendrik’s red scarf, folded carefully round his neck, and, upon further notice, it looked though he had taken the effort to tidy his locks using Hendrik’s hairbrush.

“I hope you know,” spoke Jasper, who crossed his arms then tilted his chin, “it is rather rude to invite a man to dinner and not be there when he arrives.”

“Ah… apologies. I meant to check on Obsidian for only a moment, and became distracted. He is not used to having his mane braided like this, you see. I think he is bothered by it.” Hendrik began to comb his own hair within his hands, thinking, and made a few steps towards Jasper. He exchanged topics, “There is something I should tell you regarding another subject. It appears the Luminary’s friends made a wager of some kind on whether we were… er, whether we would become… involved.”

Jasper scrunched up his face in a manner indescribable; then, he shook his head. “Huh! I suppose it is to be expected for a group spearheaded by children,” he complained. “If they had not thought so already, everyone would have discovered tonight regardless, with the way we are unsubtly dressed. It is no matter.”

“Indeed…” Hendrik folded his arms, admiring the method in which Jasper seemed to take such news in stride; as he himself was still quite embarrassed by the thought. Yet, it was true that for so long as they had known one another, Jasper seldom allowed the gossips of others to reach him.

Hendrik returned then to plucking the bows. Jasper made to step closer for the assisting of Hendrik with his horse; yet as he did, it became progressively clear that Obsidian was unsettled by the nature of Jasper’s presence. The stallion’s ears drew back, and head reared in excitement. Jasper halted his approach, desiring not to frighten the animal.

“You are afraid of him?” Hendrik turned to the horse and rubbed his side gently, attempting to soothe Obsidian’s nerves.

“He never was fond of me,” Jasper sighed. “Come now, Obsidian, I mean no harm.”

Unfastening the rope attached to Obsidian’s headcollar, Hendrik moved intermediate of Obsidian and Jasper. As a steed bred for the accompaniment of a knight, there was little in the ways of adversity which Obsidian did not overpower with ease; unafraid of monsters, he balked never in the face of a serious battle— however, further encouragements were seemingly necessary in this peculiar moment. It appeared true after all that animals were most sensitive to the likes of phantoms.

“Come here, Obsidian,” called Hendrik with a hand outstretched, attempting to demonstrate that Jasper was no threat. Obediently, the stallion approached, bending forward his nose to meet and sniff Hendrik’s palm. “Good!”

After rewarding Obsidian with plentiful scratches along the neck, Hendrik stepped backward once more, repeating this motion, clicking his tongue to call the horse. He smiled when Obsidian followed him a second time, and rewarded Obsidian a second round of nails meeting fur. “Good, good! What a brave and intelligent horse you are.”

At last, Hendrik went further— around and behind Jasper, who stood watching with patience all of this. Obsidian’s ears drew partly rearward in doubt of the new challenge presented to him, and so to prove Jasper’s character innocuous, Hendrik moved forward, gently holding Jasper’s waist, and resting his bearded chin atop Jasper’s blond head.

Speaking out to his horse, Hendrik explained, “You see? Jasper has been with us on this journey, he will not harm you. He has simply been hiding himself within my armour.”

“What are you doing…?” muttered Jasper beneath Hendrik’s chin.

Hendrik ignored Jasper’s griping and, whilst guiding the back of his friend’s hand, offered to Obsidian their palms. He called out to the stallion again, and much to his delight, Obsidian hesitated only a little before bringing his nose to Jasper’s fingertips— sniffing and snorting full of curiosity. Though it was the first of many similar trials that would need be done to ensure Obsidian’s sustained composure (saved for a later time), at the utter obedience and bravery of his steed pride bloomed throughout Hendrik’s chest.

“Yes, yes, it is me, you oversized dog,” said Jasper, who petted cautiously Obsidian’s face with Hendrik in tandem.

Confident that Obsidian would hold tolerance for Jasper tonight despite his unease born of instinct, Hendrik led the stallion to his post once more. Hendrik’s two closest friends had now been reacquainted— and they could resume thus. Together, Hendrik and Jasper made to restore Obsidian’s mane to its proper station, undoing the braids as they kept in mind not to disturb the Luminary’s dozing mare; and, while they did this, this they chatted regarding the fate of Jasper’s own mare, who had been retired to a tranquillity in the castle’s pasture.

At no more a perfect time did they finish their task (the process of which Obsidian had tolerated well, despite at first having discomfort), for only seconds after the final bows were plucked, and Obsidian at last made content by the newfound freedom of his mane, did Princess Jade call out to them, “Food’s ready, you two!”

“Finally,” Jasper grunted with impatience, and began walking away from the mount-posts towards the campfire’s direction.

Hendrik quickly joined him, saying, “Hold a moment, Jasper.”

“Hm?” Jasper stilled.

Hendrik peered upon Jasper’s face, sight trailing to the garment which concealed his neck. “What you spoke of before, about remaining amongst the living. If you ever feel you must excuse yourself due to your scar, do not hesitate. I will explain your conditions to everyone, and it will not offend me.”

“Oh, it is all right. Truly, it is not so unbearable a thing during the first hours,” replied Jasper, who glanced toward the distant congregation, then resumed his words. “I could not back out now anyhow. I spoke to the Princess while you first tended Obsidian— she had me promise her a small task after supper. At least I intend on staying for that, lest she force me into a chokehold the next eve we meet.”

“…I see.” Hendrik wondered what Princess Jade might ask of Jasper, but did not pry. He reasoned if he was meant to know, he would come to know of it soon enough.

When the duo approached the larger group, they viewed the Princess passing to Veronica a wooden dish, which contained in abundance rice and stew. Beside Veronica still sat the Luminary, whose cheeks were already full with food. Amongst each of her companions it appeared nearly everyone had been situated for their meal, and there were merry conversations in-between.

The arrival of Hendrik and Jasper was marked by a quieting of discussion. Such had been the precedent outcome the few times Jasper had made himself known; Hendrik too was familiar with this discharge— having once also brought about slight unease by his presence, until he had become better acquainted with each of those whom he had before considered adversaries. Yet even then it had seemed oddly natural to him, and he now understood the reason being he had been walking these steps for a second time. In Jasper’s case, the same could not be said.

Glancing over the pair as they set upon the main of the campsite, Princess Jade remarked, “I take it you weren’t a fan of Obsidian’s makeover?”

“It is not that, your Highness,” said Hendrik, as Jasper went to sit nearer the flame by Lord Robert. Whilst continuing to converse with the Princess, Hendrik accompanied Jasper, seating himself beside his friend. “He is a war horse, and so he is not disciplined to tolerate such… fluttering accessories. Though he might obey you, I must ask that you refrain from toying with him without my supervision. For your Highness’ safety.”

Princess Jade readied another plate alongside Erik, who aided also in passing out the food; she sighed, “Oh, very well. It figures I suppose, that your knightly nonsense would extend to your horse too.”

Hendrik frowned at this. He felt as though he had displeased her. Beside him Jasper passed a look of amusement, and Hendrik searched his thoughts for a compromise; Obsidian was unlikely to take well to training for such a thing. Perhaps then he could purchase for the Princess a horse of her own, or, if it might be of satisfaction, allow her to braid his own hair in Obsidian’s stead, as her Highness did years ago when a child—

“Just joking,” Princess Jade smiled. “I’m sure if I really wanted a horse to decorate, I could always have a go at Sylvia’s horse.”

“Oooh.” Sylvia, who had been sitting some distance to the side, clasped hands around her silver spoon at her mention in their conversation. “Margarita would have to get to know you better first, but she’d certainly love the attention!”

“…Of course,” replied Hendrik to the Princess, having been swept at once from all his thinking.

When she finished preparing two plates, Princess Jade advanced the other side of the fire, passing to Lord Robert his meal.

Smiling fully as he held it, Lord Robert said, “Thanks, Princess. Looks and smells delicious.”

Her Highness then approached Hendrik. She bent to offer to him a most large and generous serving atop a wooden dish, spoon embedded already within the rice. “Here you are. I hope you like it.”

“My thanks,” said Hendrik as he took the plate. He was now able to determine more closely the aromatic stew’s contents. It seemed to have not only mushrooms, but also carrot, as well as dried fruit, and bits of hare, simmered within a spiced red wine. Though he would have immediately liked to taste it, and spoke aloud that he concurred with Lord Robert, Hendrik waited for his friend beside him, who had not received anything yet.

Now before Jasper, the Princess asked of him, “I do hope this isn’t a rude question, but can you eat?”

“I can,” replied Jasper, who then added, “Though it is quite unnecessary to waste your resources on one of my station.”

“Oh, none of that.” She placed her hands upon her hips and frowned at him. “We made plenty. If you can eat, you have to eat with us. I want you to try my cooking.”

Before Jasper had opportunity to speak again, Princess Jade quitted them all, and left to prepare for him a quick plate. By the time she returned, Erik had also begun giving out cups and drink. Conversations resumed amongst everyone in the party; though it was between mouthfuls of rice.

“Here you go, Jasper,” said the Princess upon returning to Jasper and bestowing him his fare.

“Thank you, Princess,” Jasper muttered; he then observed briefly as she made past Hendrik to sit next to Lord Robert, and attend her own portion.

Together, Hendrik and Jasper brought spoons to their lips and tasted the food. Flavoursome, savoury, rich, delightful… these were the words that flowed in Hendrik’s mind as he enjoyed on his tongue the combination of stew and rice. He had experienced her Highness’ cooking before on a few other occasions, but nothing quite this level in delight; indeed, upon the second spoonful, he wondered if she deliberately chose a dish to feature mushrooms (which she had perhaps remembered a favourite food of his) so as to appeal to his preference.

“Princess, this is… amazing!” he remarked full of ardour.

Princess Jade smiled and placed a hand bashfully behind her head. “Oh, you don’t have to be that enthusiastic…”

“I, I truly mean it— your cooking never fails to impress, your Highness,” Hendrik followed with, concerned his utterance had maybe resembled flattery too much; while he spoke, Erik came forth to the group carrying a set of wooden cups and a skin of ale. Hendrik continued, “This is a most pleasant break from the usual rations. Erik, your rice is excellent as well.”

“Hey, thanks. It’s my own recipe,” replied Erik, pride brightening his features. “Are you guys good with ale to drink, or do you want water?”

Nearly everyone agreed to a weak ale, excluding Jasper, who said, “Do you have any wine?”

“Oh, uh, sure. We don’t have anything too fancy, though.”

“That is fine by me.”

As they were situated with their imbibements, Hendrik listened in on the various conversations held by his allies around the fire. Near him Lord Robert and Princess Jade spoke regarding some matter of the hamlet. Hendrik did not pay his full attention to them, however, for all the chin-wagging melded blurrily together in his ears. Again the ache in his skull had begun to pulse mercilessly; and so he was rather distant while he continued his meal, submissive to the affliction, quietly watching Jasper enjoy his own food.

After some time had come to pass, Jasper took a gulp of his wine and said, “Princess. This is all rather excellent, your Highness. Hendrik spoke well when he said to me you have honed your hobby into an art.”

Princess Jade’s countenance brimmed with happiness at his words. “I’m glad to hear it! I did want your opinion on the matter, because Hendrik would say the same even if my food was seasoned with manure...”

“Ha! He most certainly would,” said Jasper, cruelly peering right at Hendrik’s eyes as he did.

Hendrik huffed and turned his gaze elsewhere. He turned to the forest’s shadowed outline, encircled by the many shining stars of night, and thought. Such torments he would bear from his friends! Though deep inside, a shard of him could not deny the truth that he loved it. Nostalgia tickled him while many memories of years past, prior Dundrasil’s fall, filled his mind.

Princess Jade giggled at the pair of them; then, her expression drew more orderly when she observed Jasper, who emptied his cup of its alcohol. “Jasper. Before you drink any more, ought you do a certain thing we spoke of first?”

“Now? It is only one drink, Princess,” said Jasper.

“Oh, is it? Perhaps I was mistaken, but I thought I just saw you eyeing at our wineskin for seconds.”

As all of this happened, Hendrik was attentive to their new conversation, but failed to decipher much of its meaning. One detail which he had noticed, upon examination of Jasper while he spoke, was the most subtle change in demeanour. He remained ever a challenge to read; yet, if Hendrik were to make any guess, he would conclude Jasper to be somewhat nervous. Curious he was now as to the nature of Princess Jade’s request— for nervousness was a condition which Hendrik knew to seldom fall upon Jasper.

“Humph… all right. I will do it now, if that pleases you,” said Jasper, wearing a dry smirk in reluctant resignation to his task. “But know, Princess: if there is one thing I do feel entitled to after this, it is my own libation.” Setting his wooden plate aside, he glanced to Hendrik. “Excuse me, Hendrik. I will be back.”

Then Jasper stood, and made his way to the Luminary. As he did he drew the attention of everyone gathered; the mirthful conversations being held soon fell quiet. Beyond the low crackling of flame, and ambient song of insects, there was little noise. Hendrik paused his meal and watched in anticipation.

“Luminary,” Jasper questioned of Yggdrasil’s chosen, “Would you lend me your ear for a moment?”

The youth nodded in affirmation from where she sat on the log, having sensed the irregular importance of these circumstances. “Yes,” she said in a soft voice.

At this Jasper dropped to his knees, lowered his head in apology— and at length, he spoke, “I am aware that Hendrik has pledged me to be your unswerving companion on my behalf. This I seek to remedy— for, courtesy of my present state, I have no longer a sword or shield to give. Instead, I wish to formally offer you my wit, my tactic, my expertise in magical might… If you accept me, I would aid you in snuffing out the lingering evils of Calasmos— and in doing so, make penance for the evils I have sown. My own way.”

As he paused, a whistle came from the direction of Sylvia. “That’s an oath if I’ve ever heard one,” remarked she.

“Hmm…” The Luminary looked upward to the dark sky in contemplation; then her gaze returned to Jasper, accompanied by a smile. “You could have simply pledged to not call me a rat or worm ever again, and I’d respond just as well.”

“Heh,” snickered Erik, from where he was seated near the Luminary.

Jasper lifted his head— and bore the slightest blush of shame. “Bah. How cheeky. Yes, if it matters— I promise I will not liken you, or your companions, to any vermin.”

“Just a little teasing,” the Luminary jested. “I hope you won’t pay it any mind. Give your hand, would you?” Obedient to her, Jasper offered forth hesitantly his right hand, and the Luminary grasped it within both of her own. “I trust you to have good intentions, and I am glad to have you as one of us… Sir Jasper.”

“Thank you—”

“But.” She peered at him whilst releasing his hand. “I’m not sure if my friends will all be as trusting as I am. Can you give anything more than an oath that might reassure us? Hendrik vouches for you, but you have broken your oaths before.”

To this, Jasper glanced sidelong for some moments at Erik and Veronica, both of whom were scrutinizing his every last movement. He spoke then, “As one who has spent many a year in the shadows, I find your brightness to be quite blinding, Luminary. The being I once called master is dead. I, too, by his own hands… Having reflected on everything, knowing now what I know of both worlds… I would not allow the darkness to drive me mad again.”

“Veronica? What do you think?” The Luminary searched the face of the red-capped girl near her side. (At this Hendrik could not help but imagine the outward resemblance to that of a queen making impartial consultation of her most trusted advisor.)

“Hm… Well, he seems honest,” said Veronica. She crossed her arms and speculated further. “If Jasper’s going to be with Hendrik anyway, we may as well consider him one of us too. He does seem to know an awful lot about things…” Then in a tone sterner, she addressed Jasper directly, “But next time, you had better ask first before you wear my sister’s perfume on one of your dates!”

Jasper blinked neutrally, having forgotten about the perfume.

“Oh, Veronica, it’s quite all right. I did leave that one in the public bag,” commented Serena from where she sat, appearing embarrassed.

“Well, Sir Jasper, there you are,” said the Luminary. Her eyes were bright, and she invited Jasper to stand. “We accept. I’ve got to say, it feels reassuring to know I’ll have the help of two of Heliodor’s greatest generals… And it’ll be nice having someone else who remembers… I’ll come knocking on Hendrik’s armour when I need you, yeah?”

Their judgement of him complete, Jasper returned to his soles and swept clean the front of Hendrik’s loaned robe. He smirked to himself, and said, “Oh, what a band of bleeding hearts. I see now that Hendrik suits your sort— more than he ever did me.”

When Jasper approached, Hendrik found himself conflicted by many sobering emotions. At Hendrik’s oath Jasper had aimed a coy insult, yet, there was another matter that stood with more prominence. For Jasper— Hendrik knew well— apologizing through words was no ordinary business; scarcely had Hendrik expected such to be the nature of her Highness’ assignment. Whilst Jasper retrieved his emptied cup, Hendrik looked onward, but could not locate the proper means to voice the feeling he contained.

He believed Jasper earnestly meant to turn over a new leaf. Indeed, after Jasper ceased speaking, the cool night breeze resumed with fervour, as though the trees themselves had been listening. Happiness and pride alike coursed through Hendrik in response to his friend making a step closer to finding peace; yet still, he struggled to think of how he ought best express these things.

“They certainly had their fun with you, didn’t they?” spoke Princess Jade. “I’m sorry, Jasper. If I knew they were going to act immaturely, I wouldn’t have made you apologize. I’ll scold them for it later.”

“It is a thing of the past, Princess. I have had many worse insult said and done to me— I will live.

……No— wait. Gha ha ha ha ha!” Jasper guffawed loudly at his own macabre play of words, as he quitted them to refill his cup.

The Princess both grimaced and grinned at once. “Ugh… At least he’s in a good mood.”

“That is one way to cope, I reckon,” said Lord Robert, who then sipped of his ale.

At the supply pile, which was not far, yet closer to the warm flame where the cooking had been done, Jasper crouched to pour out for himself a second drink. The red liquid flowing from the wineskin— its fashion rather large and unwieldly— coincided with the stirring of Hendrik’s thought.

“Jasper, do you…” Hendrik fumbled somewhat over the form of his speech.

“Hm? Yes?” replied Jasper, still occupied with pouring his drink.

Hendrik reformed his words, “If there is any free time for it in the upcoming days— would you care to spar with me?”

After he had refitted the wineskin’s cork Jasper turned to face his friend, and maintained a curious aspect towards him. “You needn’t even ask. …But with what? Surely you have not forgotten already that my weapons are at the castle.”

“Ah, I thought, perhaps you could borrow one of my spare weapons. Or… I could test my unanchored strength against your own true might— against that inner beast of yours, which you showed me at the balcony.”

Jasper stood and went to him, refurbished drink in hand. “I would like that,” said he, with eyes that looked for a moment something uniquely fierce. He then claimed his place again by Hendrik’s side.

Further they supped; Hendrik finished swiftly the remainder of his first plate, standing a minute to retrieve another helping of the Princess’ marvellous stew, which had no doubt entered the ranks of the finest meals he had chanced to taste. While eating the second portion, he saw Jasper enjoying his food. The party grew full of gay conversation, surrounding the camp with tales of their pasts and ideas for their futures beyond the vestiges of the slain Calasmos. Hendrik’s headache however had returned; his dejected mind, wishing to avoid overstraining itself, and experiencing dampening throbs, collected only snippets of their conversations— he heard Serena speaking to her Highness and Lord Robert about some dress, and of Erik and Veronica arguing over some subject or other with Sylvia serving as mediator.

Rather than participate, Hendrik, tonight feeling drawn numbly inward and predisposed to melancholic reflection, thought about himself. He considered that of his own masculinity, and began to dwell upon what it meant for him as a man— a knight— general of Erdrea’s sovereign kingdom— to love truly another man. Amongst soldiers it was common for young men to share love, as Hendrik knew of both experience and having witnessed it. Yet its nature was fleeting; chivalry reminded them that above all, their duty was to be devoted to kingdom, woman, and family. He had long seen Jasper to contrarily prefer for himself the attentions of men— most in the castle knew to some degree of his preference— and though volatile his relationships were, he also held briefly his affections for women, displaying little interest in marriage. Hendrik once fantasized, that had one of them been born a woman— and this he thought more often in his juvenile years, long before he knew Jasper would reciprocate— such a fine pair might he and Jasper make. It depressed him to realize how eagerly he would have proclaimed his love if this were the case, rather than dismiss for more so many years his passion.

Discomfort, doubt, and unease welled within Hendrik as these thoughts consumed him. He set aside his empty plate and began clenching a fist anxiously. He considered two of his companions— each of whom abandoned the manhood of their births, shedding the expectations of knighthood, and nobility, to live as plain women. One Yggdrasil herself chose— the Luminary, incarnation of Erdwin; the other in a fateful twist, was sole heir of Don Rodrigo, he who served as Erdrea’s backbone of knighthood, and disciplinarian of Chivalry. Hendrik knew deeply— though he would not relinquish his masculinity— that he might like to lay beneath Jasper, and, Jasper being known to embrace on occasion a feminine thing, unite with Jasper as he would any woman. Hendrik struggled in his comprehension of each of these ideas and sighed gloomily. His present companions were all of an open mind, and King Carnelian would not oppose if persuaded, but what would Hendrik’s father think of him? His mother? His elder sisters, aunts, and uncles? He longed to find their spirits amongst Yggdrasil’s branches and speak with them.

Hendrik was torn from these thoughts by Jasper, who had finished also with his meal, and began to press affectionately closer to him. He had not seen Hendrik’s agitation, but nonetheless cured him of it by way of distraction; Hendrik smiled and embraced his friend, wrapping around Jasper’s shoulder one arm. That was right— despite his doubts, his insecurities, he did not regret this. Though Hendrik experienced nervousness at being affectionate in the open, where others would surely see and know his intentions— it also excited him. He contemplated a playful move— perhaps a chaste kiss to the edge of Jasper’s cheek, a wanton jab, or a cruel mention of the stubble patch along Jasper’s jaw which he had neglected to prune (that was handsome by Hendrik’s eyes, but Jasper always so adamant about shaving), when—

“Awwwwwhhh!” came a sudden squeal behind them, which caused Hendrik to nearly leap from his own skin, and Jasper to grimace as his body for a brief second wavered transparent.

The pair turned and separated; there Sylvia crouched, peering over them. His nerves still in a frenzy, and head sharply pounding, Hendrik blurted, “Gah— Jester— You—"

“Ay, sorry!” intercepted Sylvia with open hands, “I didn’t mean to disturb you. You were both just so… irresistibly cute! Ahem.” She stood and made nearer to them, then seated herself by Jasper.

Whilst crossing his arms, Jasper said, “Sylvia, yes? I ask that you refrain from doing that again, unless you wish a hex of silence placed upon you.”

“Hee hee hee! Oh, so mean!” Sylvia laughed, but then her eyebrows drew uncertain. “Waaiit, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“You should hope that I am joking. Birdsong nectar is not easy to find.”

Hendrik pressed an elbow to Jasper’s side. “Jasper, please be more courteous.”

“What? I was joking.” Jasper frowned at him.

“Welly well well! So long as I’m not going to catch a curse and lose my beautiful voice…” Enthusiasm danced across Sylvia’s features as she said, “Tell me, Señor Jasper. May I be so bold as to infer— that you have a soft spot for Señor Hendrik here?”

“I suppose one could say it so,” replied Jasper, “For better or for worse, since I was a boy. But you were aware of that already, were you not? There is little in the way of privacy and discretion in this band, after all.” He gave a pointed glance towards the direction of Veronica.

Though Sylvia had not known Jasper’s sense of humour, the mere fact that he japed with her had apparently enchanted her, and she leaned closer to him. “Ah, but seeing it for myself is so so different! I had always taken you for a bit of a, umm… how to put it… a crabby sourpuss? It’s like I’m getting to see the real you for the first time.”

Bewildered still that Sylvia had brushed aside so easily Jasper’s earlier threat, which rather only served to increase her interest in conversing him, Hendrik mumbled beneath his breath, “How you manage to be popular amongst women despite your crudeness is ever the mystery to me…” It was well and good, he supposed, that Sylvia took an interest in befriending Jasper; they had briefly engaged one another in Puerto Valor— a shorter period of time than Hendrik had known her, due to Jasper’s leave for study in Sniflheim.

Hearing him, and taking Jasper’s defence, Sylvia said, “Hendrik, honey, isn’t it obvious? Most ladies love a handsome bad boy!” Her second sentence was accompanied by a hand to her bosom and an accent of some kind in imitation at the end; Hendrik found it to be most familiar, yet could not recall a name, nor a face, for the voice. (Jasper, meanwhile, seemed to recognize instantly, and groaned.)

Sylvia continued conversing with Jasper, “So, how long have you two been romancing? Hendrik hasn’t told me a thing!”

Both made to respond at once:

“Hardly more than—” from Jasper,

“We are not—” from Hendrik.

To facilitate the other’s continuation, both ceased speaking; yet, only after the words left his lips did Hendrik realize he had spoken poorly.

Jasper faced him; from his expression he seemed offended. “Are we not lovers?”

Hendrik tried to mend his statement, “Jasper, you— you know I did not mean it in that way. What I meant is… we have not yet had the opportunity to discuss ourselves. This is…recent.” He grasped Jasper’s hand and pressed a chaste kiss to it, hoping to soothe him.

Jasper sighed through the nose and turned his eyes elsewhere, but allowed Hendrik to retain his hand. “Yes… I know.” He then said to Sylvia in a tone of much dryness, “Our relationship— it is a complicated one.”

“Mm, you can say that again,” said Sylvia with understanding. “But! I can help you sort out some of those feelings, no? I see the smile you add to Hendrik’s eternally grumpy face, and I think— it couldn’t be that hard to set things right between you boys, right?”

“Sylvia,” interjected Hendrik, who sighed due to frustration, “Did you not say to me earlier that you would ‘cut me slack’ for today? Or was that dishonesty?” Though he expressed some outward irritation, said emotion’s true source was his own insecurities and doubts; he had permitted his ire’s escape because her prying open his affairs did chafe him.

“I said I would cut you slack,” Sylvia replied whilst placing her hands upon her hips, and casting at Hendrik a combative stare underneath her long eyelashes, “I never said a thing about cutting Jasper any slack, honey. …But,” she sighed then, “I can sense Heliodor’s twin lovebirds need some alone time.” She rose to foot and dusted her shins.

Before she could take leave, Hendrik, feeling some guilt towards her, said, “Erm… Sylvia. Please do not mistake my curtness for deprecation. It is simply… I have much weighing on my mind at present.”

“No offense taken, darling. Whatever it is you’re thinking about— don’t think too hard, now.” Sylvia waved once, and quitted them.

As Hendrik and Jasper were left to themselves, over the former came a most sombre emotion. Having Jasper’s hand still in his own, he caressed it, and murmured, “We can speak of these things tomorrow, if you would like. Tomorrow when this infernal headache of mine is gone, and I can think clearly once more.”

“Are you feeling well?” Jasper searched his face.

“Yes, I am fine. Only a bit tired.”

The pair became silent following this. In the environment of the forest’s bed they reposed, and intertwined their hands remained. After some minutes, Jasper rested against Hendrik’s shoulder the back of his head, reviving their prior intimacy. However, of their moods the nature was more pensive. Sylvia’s interruption had invited into Hendrik’s thoughts his training in Puerto Valor, and past days gone by under Don Rodrigo’s tutelage. Though Hendrik could not see Sylvia now, for she had exited beyond his view to tend her instrument, he recalled her prying words, and the concern written upon her face whilst he struggled to convey himself to Jasper.

She remembered Hendrik well from Puerto Valor. This included— much to Hendrik’s chagrin— the times which, after Jasper had left to Sniflheim following their rudimental instruction, Hendrik wept (for Jasper’s friendship had been but a frail dam to his loneliness) out of longing to return home. Sylvia, being of the same barrack as he, had witnessed much of the ineptitude contained in Hendrik’s adolescence. What Hendrik understood the least at that time was how persistent she had been in maintaining her concerns, despite Hendrik’s attempts at repelling her, often with meanness, and on occasion insult. It was though he were transparent to her eyes— and she had seen through the desire to conceal weakness how he wanted desperately for another friend.

Then, even under the name of her birth and living amongst the male recruits, her mannerisms were feminine. Hendrik— everyone— saw the manner in which her father would scold and shame her for them. The female warriors (of which there were fewer) had been chastised alike for behaviours not adhering to the Code of Chivalry, that which prescribed the stations of each sex. They were, barring the special occasion, permitted seldom to engage with Sylvia and the men. Hendrik recalled how Sylvia, in her eagerness to mingle amongst the women, pounced at each little opportunity— a contrast to his own timid habit of avoiding them. Where he once thought her a womanizer, and viewed with envy the ease by which she spoke amongst them, he now understood the truth. Yet— Hendrik pondered, as he touched affectionately Jasper’s soft bang— what was the nature of his own truth? Perhaps in the end, he and Sylvia were not so different— only that she had known far sooner than he what either wanted of themselves.

An unusual feeling then fell upon Hendrik. He shut his eyes, and began to clear his mind of all its reflections. His final consideration was such: Seldom had he expected to be reunited under these circumstances with his allies of youth. Hendrik would not dare attempt to understand the workings of fate; therefore, rather than continue musing over these things, his gaze turned to see the Princess, who by this time had moved about and settled nearer to Serena.

Within her hand Princess Jade held the rim of a small round basket. Over it, a white cloth was draped, which concealed from Hendrik’s eyes its contents. He wondered a moment what it could have, never seeing it before amongst her possessions. Then her Highness passed it to Serena and said something Hendrik’s ears could not catch. His questions at once ended when Serena reached inside the basket to remove and munch on a biscuit. It must have come from the hamlet’s bakery, Hendrik determined, and, with satisfaction the women were enjoying themselves, he left this view to observe the stars of atmosphere, which peered down at him from behind the silhouetted treetops.

Against Hendrik’s expectations— for he had only just let his attentions wander elsewhere— Serena approached the resting pair of knights, carrying the basket in both hands. “Umm… Sir Jasper? Is it true that you have a liking for sweets? I, well…” Her speech paused as she then anticipated his answer.

“…Yes, that would be true,” said Jasper, who pried himself from Hendrik’s embrace and bettered his posture to address her decently. “What of it?”

“Well, I was wondering if… you might like to have a dessert with me. There was a lovely bakery at the hamlet, you see, and I couldn’t help myself from buying a basketful of goodies. Jade told me you might enjoy some.” Bending over, she held out to him her basket.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Jasper took it from Serena’s hands and lifted away its cloth lid.

Whilst pointing out each treat correspondingly, Serena spoke, “Here we have some butter pastries. These are made with apple, these are pear, and these are lemon crème. These are tarts made from apricot jam, berries, and pomegranate. Here are cheese cakes...”

Jasper’s eyes wandered to her entranced expression a moment, before returning to her finger’s tour.

“These are cinnamon and ginger biscuits. They’re especially good. Oh, and they were also selling caramel apples, made from their own apple tree.” Finished, she stood back so Jasper may choose of his own accord. “…I had quite the hard time deciding what to buy, so I just bought some of each!”

“Hm.” Jasper selected for himself a pastry of lemon and a ginger biscuit. He swiftly devoured the butter-pastry, then continued their conversation after licking his finger, “I am of the very same habit, you know. When in the mood I often find I must hold myself back from buying a bakery’s stock. The sweet shoppe of Gondolia has the finest in all of Erdrea, I say... Though, these are not so bad, either.” When done speaking, he ate a bite from the ginger biscuit and returned her basket.

“Ooh! Gondolia has my favourites, too! How funny that we like the same thing.”

Hendrik, who had watched their exchange with interest, joined them, “I have always said that his body must find some way to compensate for the bitterness of his character… Thus, his love of sweets.”

To this Jasper rolled his eyes and growled around his mouthful of biscuit. “Pfeh.”

Serena then approached Hendrik and offered out the treats to him, saying, “Would you care for some too, Sir Hendrik?”

“Hm…” Though he seldom indulged in sweets as his friend did, Hendrik’s eyes were drawn to the pair of caramel apples inside, each pierced as a form of grip by thin wooden rods. He had not tasted one since he was a young boy. “I will have one of the caramel apples, if that is acceptable.”

“Of course— anything you’d like,” replied she. Changing the subject, and beginning to peer over him, she said, “I trust your injuries are faring better now? You haven’t felt dizziness of any sort since we were gone, have you?”

Between munches of the sticky sweet apple he answered, “I have not. When my magic returned to me, I was able to heal each of the remaining wounds; …Now all that remains to be cured is my weariness. Certainly, I shall make a full recovery once I have obtained some rest.”

“Very good.” Serena nodded. “We felt a mite guilty leaving you here by yourself… But, you’re never really alone with Sir Jasper by your side now, are you?”

While Hendrik was made to ponder these things over his treat, Jasper seized an opportunity to speak. “Serena. A word, if you will.”

“Yes?” Her countenance sobered at his change in tone from their merry one.

“It is a hunch more than anything, but I think he may have something wrong with him— contrary to his claim that he is fine. He has been complaining to me of a headache, you see.”

Irritation stabbed into Hendrik’s temple— and this time the source was not his ailment. He did not understand— for what reason did Jasper insist on making something from this headache? Gripping the stick of his apple (which he was now less inclined to finish), and mildly insulted, he groused, “Gr. Jasper... Do you doubt my ability to heal myself?”

Jasper’s amber eyes clashed with Hendrik’s pair, and he budged not an inch in his stance. “Yes, I do, in fact,” Jasper replied, as he played dubiously his bang’s end between two fingers. “Perhaps it is nothing, as you so insist. But, just as easily, it could be something born of unseen injury.” In a motion, Jasper folded his arms, and turned to Serena. “He has been acting an absentminded and melancholic fool all evening long— it is unlike him.”

Hendrik wondered, was such a thing true? He had noticed no such changes to his own temperament. There had been his verbal clumsiness earlier, but…

“Hmm. …Lord Robert?” Serena looked to the old Drasilian king, as a fellow healer.

“Aye, I heard it all.” Lord Robert leaned on his cane to help leverage him upwards, and rose onto his feet with a grunt. His expression was stern as he approached Hendrik. “A headache, you say? Yer noggin was banged up something harsh earlier, so we shouldnae overlook that, just to be safe.”

…And thus, Hendrik stewed in displeasure, as his scalp was felt on every side by the careful hands of Serena and Lord Robert. Whilst the pair inquisitively prodded his skull with various healing magics, Hendrik questioned what drove Jasper’s onset of pettiness— was it to repay him for how he had earlier misspoken, calling into doubt unintentionally the nature of their bond? Or, had Jasper’s wound reopened without notice, and made him irritable? Upon viewing his friend, however, Hendrik shook from his mind each of these ideas— remembering on how Jasper had laid against him in an intimate calm, and sought the occupation of Hendrik’s hand for his own. From the manner of Jasper’s present frown, Hendrik could fathom one conclusion only: that on his behalf, his friend was naught but concerned for his safety.

Lord Robert, who had lingered over the same spot behind Hendrik’s left ear for some while, suddenly said in a grim tone, “Serena... Do ye feel this down here?”

Such an ominous statement startled Hendrik from his thoughts. Over him trepidation reared its tarnished head, and seeped throughout his body like a shiver. He lowered the apple he held to his emptied plate and thought, could there truly be something wrong? For a moment he became afraid.

Serena came to examine the location herself while Lord Robert stood aside. The statement also garnered the attentions of Sylvia, as well as Princess Jade. Amongst them could be heard a “What’s wrong with him?”; following was an assertion from Jasper that Hendrik’s status had yet to be found.

Ceasing her search of him, Serena spoke, “Hendrik.”

“Y-yes?”

“Whatever will we do with you…?” she sighed. “Well, how do I say it… Your brain is bleeding.”

“What?” Perhaps due to shock, Hendrik found he could not believe what was being said.

Similarly, Sylvia and Princess Jade developed concern upon their faces, whilst Jasper frowned.

For the sweeping aside of their perturbation, Serena explained, “It’s only a smidge of a bruise, so there’s nothing to worry about, really! But if it had been left to continue for long enough, the outcome could have been a more awful one. Shall I fix it for you, then?”

“Please— and thank you, but— but first, allow me to see...” Over the same area Lord Robert and Serena had lingered, Hendrik nudged his own fingertips around and began focusing his energies inward. He wished, so that he may extinguish any doubts, to discover the bruising himself. And— indeed, within mere moments he felt something amiss there underneath his burdened skull. Upon the further refinement of magic, his inquiry arrived at a swelling (no doubt to blame for the headache that ailed him) and beneath, a small contusion.

As Hendrik observed the wound, Lord Robert felt solemnly his white moustache’s curled tip and spoke, “Aye, it’s no laughing matter. I’ve seen a bleed like that go bad, and bring soldiers as tough ’n young as you to an early retirement. …Couldnae even lift their own swords anymore.”

Hendrik lowered his hands, allowing for Serena’s return to treating the bruise, and heaved a lengthy breath through his nose. “I apologise for the troubles I have caused everyone today,” said he with much shame. “I swear, it seemed no worse to me than a migraine of stress or fatigue.”

“You know what they say: It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry,” came Serena’s reply.

Hendrik gave a sober hum. As Serena cured him, he rested his eyes, and a still blackness enveloped his surroundings. There was vaguely the hushed chattering of his companions, but he abstained from eavesdropping and rather heard nothing. For a moment, he simply wished to be. Then, within a minute’s passing, the pressure that had ailed Hendrik for many hours of the day began to ease.

“Done!” exclaimed Serena. She ceased bending and returned to her full height, giving Hendrik a reassuring tap on the head. “Now, you’re all set to go, but you mustn’t dally in speaking up if another issue arises, all right? Wake one of us if it comes to it.”

Hendrik nodded. In the place of his headache began entering a renewed sense of clarity and calmness— a flow which he eagerly welcomed. “Indeed. Thank you, Serena. And you, Lord Robert. I would rather not fathom what might have become of me if I did not have such skilful healers for allies…” He turned to look then at Jasper, who had stood aside to give the duo of healers more room. “I must thank you as well, Jasper. You were right to suspect something was amiss. …I should not have doubted you.”

“You have apologized quite enough.” Jasper flicked a hand dismissively in good demeanour. “What matters is that you are now safe.”

The pair of generals shared fraternizing expressions.

“I, for one, think Henny-Wenny could apologize more. To me!” Sylvia entered the conversation, her fiery scolding ablaze, “Because I about had a heart attack when Serena said your brain was bleeding, honey!” she then went on to lecture, “I know you’re used to being commander of Heliodor’s forces, but here you’re just you. Don’t forget you’re allowed to ask others for help.”

“That’s right, Henny-Wenny,” followed Princess Jade, whose brow furrowed, and fists pressed against her sides. Such a visage caused Hendrik to frown.

In an opposite manner, Jasper chuckled, and his smirk attained a smugger degree. “Henny-Wenny? Now that is a nickname I have not heard in a long time…”

As he beheld the pleasant sight of his many allies gathered around him, Hendrik was struck with emotion. An immense gratefulness filled him— and it drowned his heart in the knowledge that he was loved. Suddenly, he thought of the Hendrik of the previous world— a version of himself living an existence anathematized, one in which Heliodor had been reduced like Zwaardsrust to ruins, and innumerable souls stolen by Mordegon’s tainted hand. Though Hendrik remembered nothing of his past life, knowing only what the Luminary had proclaimed, or the spare image nigh-indiscernible from dream, the mere fantasy of what this other self had lived through overwhelmed him. How grateful was he to live in this world, spared by Yggdrasil’s chosen of such a sad fate! How lucky was he, to be surrounded by such caring allies— and to have his dear friend Jasper restored to his side.

As Hendrik combatted the encroaching pressure in his eyes which threatened his dignity (he refused to shed tears a second time on the same day, most especially not before her Highness!), Sylvia quirked her brows, carrying a curiosity upon her tongue. “Say, Jade?”

The Princess faced the jester. “Yes?”

“Jasper must’ve had a darling little nickname too, right?”

“Oh, that’s right! He did.” Princess Jade grinned.

Jasper’s composure faltered. “Princess, please—”

“Jaspy-Waspy.”

“…” Jasper said nothing, as displeasure and resignation wore sourly upon his countenance in an unexpressed sigh.

“Ooooh~” Sylvia clasped her hands together, feigning wickedness.

Managing by this point in time to control his onset of emotions, Hendrik could not help but smile at Jasper’s condition, and he said, “It is not so funny now when you are at the receiving end of it, hm?”

“No. It is not,” Jasper said. It was not difficult to guess from the twitch in his lips that he had just restrained himself from proclaiming them all to be imbeciles. “…Though, I suppose it does remind me of simpler days.”

With Hendrik’s safe recovery now assured, those who had come to observe his state began dispersing to their previous occupations; and between them, Jasper returned nearby to sit. Though Hendrik yet remained hesitant to express his affections, he could not overcome the delight he felt at his friend’s approach. He placed a hand atop Jasper’s own to gain his attention.

“What?” Jasper looked at him.

Full of sincerity and warmth, Hendrik replied, “You have helped to save my life today. Thank you.”

“Hmph… Compared to them, I hardly did a thing,” said Jasper with a faltering gaze, and the faint scent of wine upon his breath.

Hendrik reiterated, “I truly mean it. Thank you for being here tonight.”

“Oh, get a room, you two!” immediately shouted Veronica from across the fire— an interruption which caused Hendrik to blush and retreat his shy hand.

As the night advanced further, all discourses became subdued by an enclosing blanket of tiredness. It was not long before Lord Robert, citing the hour, excused himself off to bed. After a great yawn and declaring the need to remove her makeup before she slept, Sylvia likewise departed for the tents. Seeing others begin to clean, and gather up the remaining utensils of their supper, Hendrik stood to bring his and Jasper’s plates. He approached Erik, who had been in the process of removing from above the waning flames both kettle-pots; behind the thief were her Highness and Veronica, together collecting a basin of dishes.

“I shall assist you in washing those,” Hendrik said.

“Nuh-uh,” Erik vetoed the proposition. “We wouldn’t dare further interrupt your lovey-dovey time with Jasper. We’ll handle it.”

“But you must let me assist you in some way after—” Erik raised a palm, meaning to quiet Hendrik, yet Hendrik further persisted, “Veronica misunderstood what she saw, we were merely sharing a kiss and our position made it seem—"

“Ahh! I don’t want to hear it.”

“I would at least like to help carry—"

Whilst Hendrik’s attentions were concentrated, Princess Jade seized from Hendrik’s hands the wooden plates, cups, and spoons, adding them to the basin. He frowned.

“Hey, forget about it, okay? Especially with your injuries,” said Erik. “Relax and let them heal for the night. You almost died taking that blow for me.”

Hendrik gazed at the smaller forms of Erik, the Princess, and Veronica. Each of their looks spoke to him, and said that their minds would be more at ease were he to quit them in favour of his tent. The thought of her Highness washing dishes in the moonlit river, when such a task could be delegated to one more suitable for it, Hendrik found difficult to forgive; however, he had learned over the course of his journeys with the Princess— that she enjoyed on occasion menial labour for her nerves, and was in fact quite used to it; a quick remembrance of this quelled his difficulty. Thus, he relented, and left the evening’s chores to them.

“I tried to offer aid, but it would appear my help is not needed,” stated Hendrik once he had returned to where Jasper sat, near the margin of grass.

“I heard,” Jasper replied. He looked upwards at Hendrik, and this exposed his neck to a certain degree; though Hendrik could not peer beyond the scarf there completely, he managed a small glimpse of the wound, and was relieved to see that no blood had yet begun to flow. It seemed the dinner invitation had not inconvenienced Jasper too much.

“I ought to retire for bed then,” Hendrik continued. “Will you come with me? Or, is your neck…”

Jasper considered it briefly. “I suppose I can remain just a while longer tonight, yes.”

Hendrik extended a hand to support Jasper up. At that moment, as Jasper grasped his fingers, the grin upon Jasper’s lips seemed to Hendrik something very special, and his demeanour cherubic.

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

End Notes: All criticisms and comments would really be appreciated, as this is actually my first time writing a legit fanfiction. Most of it I had written a year ago, but college getting in the way made it difficult to finish. Hope it was worth the wait. ^^

P.S. If you liked the fic I would appreciate it if you clicked on the AO3 link and hit the ‘kudos’ button at the bottom. That way I know how many people actually liked reading it.

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [6]

vi. his sister’s keeper

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Language, mentions of vomit, allusions to sexual assault/scummy Shumway deals, Grounder violence.

Summary: A small group of people head staright into Grounder territory in search of Octavia, and you have a surprising moment with someone unexpected.

a/n: are we all sad about the lack of bob morley in the promo? are we all scared? is that just me? if not, pls enjoy the next chapter of my series that’s all about Bellamy (and reader) bc it’s what he desrves! also the taglist is stil OPEN. 

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

(Flashbacks are italicized)

Jake looks over at his wife, screaming out in pain, gripping his hand with a strength he didn’t know she possessed, forehead damp with sweat, and he could only think one thing. 

She has never looked so beautiful. 

He looks around at the room, stuffed with medical equipment, but empty of anyone other than himself, Abby, and Jackson.

And soon, his beautiful daughter. 

Clarke comes into the world the same way she’ll regard the world in the future. Pensive, quiet, evaluating. At first, everyone is worried, because she didn’t make a sound. But after a quick look of her surroundings, she lets out a hearty scream and all Jake can do is smile, tears filling his eyes. Jackson handed him his daughter, wrapped in a blanket, and he looked down into her face. Chubby cheeks, bright blue eyes, little shock of blonde hair; everything about her bright and shining, like a star. And then he turned to his wife, his sun, the center of his universe, and he knew his family was complete.

Until Jackson gave his wife a knowing look, asked, “Are you ready?”

Jake can’t hide the fear and concern in his voice, “Ready for what?”

Abby reaches out and grabs his hand. “I couldn’t tell you before, didn’t know how to say it...There’s one more.”

And before Jake could comprehend what she was saying, implying, you had entered the world. He didn’t want to accept it, accept you. Multiple children were against the law, they’d get floated for it. 

But he took one look at your face, his little la lune, and he knew he’d protect this secret until the day he died. 

-

Cabin searches were a reality on the Ark, but with a chief medical doctor slash current councilwoman for a mother, and a chief engineer highly revered father, they were few and far between. 

Usually, they were done by Jaha himself, and never in a very serious way, because they were friends and it was easy for the Chancellor to pass along the message that the Griffin residence was safe, passed the test. 

Sometimes they were done by actual guard members. High up in the ranks, aware that no real searching needed to be done. 

But no matter who it was, you had to hide in the space in the closet, engineered by your father to keep you quiet and hidden. 

Because it had been decided early on that Clarke would be the twin to venture out into the world. She was quiet, better behaved, calmer. And besides, she was the first born. You were the bonus. The secret. 

-

Your eyes trace the patterns of stars in the sky, naming the constellations as you go. 

The long tail of Draco, over to the zig and zag of Casseopeia, down over the round shape of Auriga, before finally landing on the shape of Orion the Hunter. As you trace over his form in the sky, his belt, over to his raised arm and shield, you hear a familiar voice tearing through the camp. “Octavia!”

You sit up in confusion, looking around, before finally locking eyes with Bellamy, who looks frantic. He jogs over to you, “You’re still up?”

“I have a hard time sleeping these days.” Your eyes scan over him, noting the tension in his body, coiled so tight you’re afraid he’ll pop. “What’s wrong?”

“Octavia. I can’t find her anywhere. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

You stand, thinking, “Not since she ran off yesterday. But she’s bound to be around here somewhere.”

He shakes his head, curls bouncing, “I checked everywhere, and no one’s seen her.”

“I’ll help you look again, just in case. You check the dropship, she tends to spend a lot of time there with Jasper and Monty. I’ll check the tents again, then we’ll meet back in the middle.”

He nods, “Thank you.”

You give him a soft smile before you both walk off, him towards the dropship, and you for the cluster of tents. You poke your head into each one, making sure to scan every face and softly whisper Octavia’s name. When you step around the side of the last tent, you come face to face with your twin, who looks at you in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Octavia’s missing. I’m helping Bellamy look for her.”

She immediately turns and grabs her jacket, “I’ll help.”

“You don’t have to, we’ve got it. Besides, I’m sure you’re tired.”

You watch her expression change and she mutters, “Hard to sleep when I’m thinking about all those people on the Ark.” You offer a single nod, feeling uncomfortable, unsure what to say. She shakes her head, “I just don’t understand why you’d do something like that. Why would you help him throw away our only way to contact the Ark.”

“Clarke, I-” A sigh pushes past your lips, “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but things were very different for us on the Ark. I spent my entire life locked up in our place, then I got caught and locked up in the Skybox. And then, they killed our dad…” You trail off, running your hand through your hair, “I don’t have any attachment to the Ark. Nothing good ever happened to me up there. And I don’t care what happens to mom, or Jaha, or anyone else that got left behind.”

She seems to be weighing your words, forming a response, when Bellamy runs up. “Anything?” You shake your head. “Then we need to gather a search party.”

You and Clarke agree, and the three of you branch off, waking everyone up and gathering them in the center of the camp. Bellamy drops a pile of handmade weapons and tools in the center of the group, as he yells, “Hey, everybody, gather around and grab a weapon. My sister's been out there alone for 12 hours. Arm up. We're not coming back without her.”

You grab a knife with a short curved blade, and slide it through a loop in your pants, before going to find a torch to light the way. As you grab one from the edge of the camp, someone yells out nearby, “Guys, guys. Come here!”

You look up, curious, and jog over to the small group, instinctively stopping by Bellamy. You follow their eyes to the night sky, as hundreds of shooting stars fall to the Earth. But the closer you look at them, the sicker you feel, as you realize what those shooting stars are. 

Raven comes out of the tent, eyes focused on the sky. “They didn't work. They didn't see the flares.”

“A meteor shower tells you that?” You nudge Bellamy and he looks over at you as you shake your head in warning. 

Clarke’s voice is quiet when she corrects him, “It's not a meteor shower, it's a funeral. Hundreds of bodies being returned to the Earth from the Ark. This is what it looks like from the other side.”

You glance at Bellamy and watch his face fall, and you know he’s got the same sick feeling in his stomach. Raven comes marching towards Bellamy, yelling, “This is all because of you!”

Bellamy’s walls raise in defense as he retorts, “I helped you find the radio.”

“Yeah, after you jacked it from my pod and trashed it!” Clarke and Finn each grab a hold of Raven, and one of Bellamy’s girls, Roma, pushes you aside to stand closer to him. His eyes lock with yours over her head, and you think you see sorrow in them, but you also aren’t sure if it’s just wishful thinking. 

“All I know is that my sister is out there and I'm gonna find her.”

Bellamy turns and storms off, Roma hot on his heels, and you’re left standing there, looking between his retreating figure, and your twin. She meets your eyes and turns away from you slightly, effectively closing the conversation from you. You take that as a sign and turn to follow the others from camp. 

As you trudge through the darkness, a small torch your only light, you hear your name being called from near the front. Your brows furrow in confusion and you jog to the front, where Bellamy stands waiting. “You were with me yesterday, so I want you up here, in case you remember anything.”

You hesitate and glance over at Roma, who hovers near Bellamy, glaring at you. He seems to sense this and he turns to the long haired beauty. “Go find Mbege and help him search near the back. You’re better with the details.”

She pauses, weighing her options, but her desire to please Bellamy ultimately wins out. She pulls him in for a passionate kiss that lasts an uncomfortably long time, before dropping near the back of the group and leaving you and Bellamy alone. 

He starts walking again, leading the group, and you both search side by side in uncomfortable silence. The change in your relationship presses in on you, weighing heavily in your mind as you remind yourself over and over that Bellamy Blake is an asshole, and you want nothing to do with him. Right on cue, he seeks to change your mind. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about since we were in that cave with Charlotte.”

Your heart drops at the mention of her name, and you think back to that day in the cave. Only a few days ago, but it feels like lifetimes now. You glance over at Bellamy, “What is it?”

“After I comforted Charlotte, you got mad at me and said I made a joke about assault. What was that about? Because I don’t remember saying anything like that.”

You pull a face and turn your head towards him quickly, instantly annoyed. “But you did.” You turn away and look back out into the woods, “The night we found Jasper, after you took the panther meat away from me. You said ‘guess Shumway was right about you not taking a good deal when you see it’.”

You hear a sharp intake of air, as he processes your words. “I still don’t understand. Shumway just said you wouldn’t take the trade deal he offered you in order to keep your secret. Something about wanting stuff from the Privileged because he could turn a good profit.”

You turn towards Bellamy, shocked, and resist the urge to vomit all over his shoes. “That’s what he told people?” You let out a bitter laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, considering he was always a self serving, opportunistic asshole.” You shake your head, and give Bellamy a serious look. “That’s not what happened. Not even close.”

“Then what did happen?”

You take a deep breath, contemplating whether you want to tell him or not. You glance over at him, still unsure, and you don’t miss the soft concern in his eyes. You let out a sigh, and turn away from him, focusing on the woods, as you begin, “I’ve never told anyone this before, but the day started out usual enough…”

You turn the page of the textbook, scanning it for the answer to the last question of your homework. Your eyes light up when you find it, and write it down quickly, before closing everything with a smile. As you stand and stretch your limbs, you hear the door to the apartment open and close, and you glance over at the clock. 

4:30.

A grin splits your face as you realize it can only be one person. 

Dad.

You run from the room, already talking to him as you cross the threshold, “Dad, perfect timing, I just finished my homework and I’m feeling really good-”

As you round the corner, you come face to face with a man who is not your father. 

You freeze in place, panic rising in your chest, unsure what to do. He’s taller than you, with dark hair and eyes, dressed in what looks like a guard uniform. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, as he takes you in. “You’re not Clarke.”

 You say nothing, do nothing, and just stand frozen. 

He puts down the files in his hands and moves closer to you, and with every step he takes forward, you take one backwards, trying to keep the distance. He backs you into a wall, and you press yourself into it, wishing you could disappear, or run to your hidden compartment. 

He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, and your body shakes in fear. “You look like Clarke, but you have a lot of Jake’s features too.” He lets out a slow breath, as he makes the realization. “Twins.”

Your shaking stops as he says it, leaving you once again frozen, and he takes your reaction as confirmation. His eyes light up with something you don’t recognize, “The secret twin.”

You turn away from him and he grabs your face and turns it towards him, “A secret like this would destroy your whole family. Get your parents killed. Leave your sister alone. What is that secret worth to you?”

Your blood freezes and your eyes lock with his, realizing that his look was one of opportunity. He takes a step back and admires your body slowly, top to bottom, and you feel like you’re going to crawl out of your skin. “I’ve got a deal for you, sweetheart. I’ll come visit you, everyday, and you keep me satisfied. In return, I’ll keep your secret.”

You say nothing, and your brain screams at you to react. Say no, run, spit in his face, anything! But you do none of it, your limbs thick and heavy, like rocks. The man smirks and leans towards you, before pressing his lips to yours. Your brain shifts into overdrive, into panic mode, as he slips his tongue between his lips and into your mouth. That sends you into action, finally, as you bite down, catching part of his tongue and his lips between your teeth. You taste blood in your mouth as he pulls away with a cry of pain, and he immediately retaliates by hitting you across the face. You yelp and clutch your face, as your eye and cheekbone throb in pain. 

He wipes the blood from his mouth and looks at his hands, now stained red, and he points at you. “You’re going to regret that, you little bitch!”

And then he turns and stalks from the apartment, slamming the door behind him and leaving you to collapse to the floor with a wave of emotion. 

You don’t know how long you lie sobbing on the floor before the door opens again, and you don’t even look up, already convinced that it’s the guard, back again. Instead, you hear your name fall from your dad’s lips, softly, confused. 

When you look up at him, he catches sight of the blood near your mouth, and the dark bloom of a bruise already forming near your eye. He runs towards you, instantly worried, tipping your head up to look at the injuries. “What happened?”

You recoil from his touch, and a look of hurt washes over his features as he tries to decipher the meaning. Your voice trembles as you meet his eyes, “Someone saw me.”

You see panic cross his face, as he looks around. “Someone was here? Who?”

“A man. Black hair. He was wearing a guard’s uniform.” 

You let out a choked sob and your father moves closer to you. This time, you let him. “Where is he now?”

“He ran out a few minutes ago.” You start to cry harder, and Jake once again remembers the bruises on your face. “Did he touch you? Did he put his hands on you?”

Before you can answer, the door bursts open, and you and your father turn towards it, both of you frozen in fear. 

As they start to come near you, the guard from before enters the room, blood still smeared across his cheek. You lock eyes with him and turn back to your dad, as one of the guards announces, “You are under arrest for the crime of-”

You reach out for your dad as they close in on you, grabbing him tightly. “Dad don’t let them take me! Please!”

He holds you tightly, wrapping his arms around you and pleading with the guards as they try to pull you away, “She’s just a kid! She didn't do anything wrong!”

More guards file into the room, separating you from your father as you both continue to scream, and your attacker watches with a smug look on his face. They pull you further and further away, and you hear your dad as you are pulled from the room, as he sets his sights on the attacker. “What did you do to her? You son of a bitch! She’s just a kid!”

They continue pulling you down the hall, and you raise hell the entire way, kicking, screaming, hitting any guards you can reach. Other Arkers press themselves into the wall as they drag you by, and you hear your name as they pull you around another corner. A head full of blonde hair pops into view, as your twin screams your name. You scream back, trying to reach her, “Clarke! Help me, Clarke!” 

And as you struggle against the group of men, causing nothing but trouble, you feel a small prick of pain in your shoulder. When you look over, you see a needle sticking from your arm, as the room around you starts to grow hazy. You turn back towards your twin, her face the last thing you see as everything fades to black. 

You shake the memory from your head and look at Bellamy, who seems to realize why you were so upset that night. He stops, and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I should have known Shumway was lying.”

You shrug off his apology, and he meets your eyes with fierce sincerity. “I’m serious. I’m an asshole.”

You match his look, “Still are.” and he seems shocked for a second before you follow your statement with a smile, and he gives you one in return. The moment is quickly broken by Mbege yelling nearby, “Look! Over here!”

You see alarm pass over Bellamy’s face before he takes off towards the sound of his voice, and you follow closely behind. You burst through the treeline, near the edge of a ravine, and Bellamy asks, “What is it?”

“Right there. You see it? Is that Octavia's?”

Bellamy doesn’t take his eyes off the tree, as he demands, “Rope.”

Someone gives Bellamy a rope that he begins to rig up, and Finn steps up, “What are you doing?”

“We need the rope to get back up.” He tosses the rest of the rope down the ravine, before he turns to Mbege. “Flashlight.” 

When he reaches the tree, he turns and yells, “It's hers. I'm going all the way down.”

You turn and hand the closest person your torch, and follow Bellamy down to the bottom, Jasper right behind you. When you run up on Bellamy, he’s kneeling near a rock, his fingers slick with blood. His eyes meet yours, full of fear, and you whisper, “Shit.”

Jasper and Finn join you, and Bellamy’s eyes find a set of footprints in the mud. “Someone else was here.”

“The prints are deeper going that way. He was carrying her.”

Bellamy pales a little, and Jasper notices and tries to offer some comfort. “If they took her, she's alive. Like when they took me.”

Bellamy immediately stands and starts to follow the tracks, and you all follow him. The journey is quiet, the only sound around you consisting of boots squishing in wet mud, and the sounds of the forest at night. As you all break through the trees and into another clearing, you come to the entrance of a path, and freeze in place. All around the path are skeletons impaled on posts, guarding the way. You can feel the fear of the group begin to build, as Finn whispers, “I don't speak grounder...but I'm pretty sure this means keep out.”

Behind you, various delinquents mutter their dissent, and desire to turn around. Bellamy never takes his eyes off the warnings. “Go back if you want. My sister, my responsibility.”

He steps into the path and heads in, but even you take a second and hesitate. Bellamy turns and looks at you, still standing there, and you can sense his disappointment. You take a deep breath and jog behind him to catch up, ignoring every warning in your head telling you that this is a bad idea. 

-

The group that follows Bellamy into Grounder territory is small, only a handful of those originally on the search team. With some annoyance you note the continued presence of Roma, who now lingers even closer to Bellamy than before. You scold yourself for the line of thinking, reminding yourself that this is about Octavia, and there is safety in numbers. 

The group is even quieter than before, as they follow Bellamy and Finn, who follow the forgotten trail. You all walk for a long time, and night turns into dawn, marked by the sun beginning to filter through the trees. Around you, the others cut off their flashlights and snuff out their torches, tucking them away for later. 

As mid morning approaches, you hear Finn whispering to Bellamy, “I got nothing. We lost the trail.”

“Keep looking.”

Finn shakes his head, “Wandering around aimlessly isn't the way to find your sister. We should backtrack…”

“I'm not going back.” They come to a stop and the group follows suit, pausing and looking around. 

Behind you, Roma sounds worried, “Hey, where's John?”

“I just saw him a second ago.”

You feel a pit of anxiety growing in your stomach and you pull out your knife, as Bellamy says, “Spread out. He couldn't have gotten that far.”

As the words leave his mouth, a loud thud comes from behind you, and you all turn to see what it is. As you do, your eyes fall on Mbege, now on the ground, throat slashed. You all run closer, and kneel down, pressing your fingers to his neck to be sure. You meet Bellamy’s eyes and shake your head once, and his face falls. 

Finn looks around, worried, before lifting his head to the sky. “They use the trees.”

You all look around, scanning every tree in sight for signs of movement. Signs of Grounders. 

“We shouldn't have crossed the boundary.”

Jasper’s voice reaches you next, as he points to your right. “There. Right there.”

Your eyes follow his and you see a Grounder, standing perfectly still and watching you. Diggs points behind you, his voice shaking. “Another one.”

Finn whispers, “We should run.”

And that’s all it takes to put you all into gear. Bellamy reaches down and hauls you to your feet and takes off running, half pulling you as he goes, reminding you of the day in the cave with the poisonous fog. You tear through the trees, leaping over logs and dodging low hanging branches, keeping your eyes straight ahead, afraid to see how many Grounders are nearby. Bellamy changes direction every few minutes, as another Grounder jumps into your path and cuts you off. 

You hear Jasper gasping for air behind you, “I can't run much longer!”

Bellamy stops, pulling you to a stop with him, and the others pause with you. Diggs keeps on running, right past the group. “I'm not stopping for him!”

Bellamy looks around at the approaching grounders, “I'm sick of running anyway.They know where she is.”

Roma spins in a circle, frantically searching. “Diggs, where are you?”

From somewhere nearby, his voice calls her name, and Roma takes off towards it. You all follow, before skidding to a stop, right in front of Diggs’ impaled body. Roma keeps running, and you all search the trees, full of adrenaline and fear. “They were leading us here. It's the only direction we could run in.”

You whisper, “Where'd they go?”

Realization dawns on Bellamy, “After Roma.”

He takes off running again, and you follow until you reach him, and he slows to a jog. You move through the woods quietly, on guard, ears perked and waiting for the smallest of sounds. Monroe spots her first, near a tree, and whispers her name. When she doesn’t move, Bellamy runs to her, and you jog behind him, coming around the tree and face to face with Roma, a spear through her chest. 

Bellamy reaches up and closes her eyes, and whispers to you quietly, “She only came because of me.”

You feel regret over your earlier annoyance of her, because this is not something you wanted. She didn’t deserve to die, impaled to a tree. 

Jasper starts to panic, and starts yelling at the grounders, taunting them, “Come on! We know you're out there! You want to kill us!”

Bellamy and Finn descend on him in seconds, trying to shut him up as grounders run at you from all angles. Monroe yells, “They’re coming!”

You all turn back to back, trying to protect each other and cover all sides, weapons raised as they near closer and closer. You start to regret everything you ever said and did, all the pain you caused, the fight with Clarke, the anger towards your mother. And just as they reach you, the sound of a horn moves through the trees, stopping the Grounders dead in their tracks, before they turn to run the other way. 

Bellamy’s voice is full of disbelief, “They're leaving.”

“That horn. What does it mean?”

You look around, “Acid Fog.”

Finn starts to pull a parachute from his pack, spreading out wide enough so everyone can get inside. You all scramble into the tent, tucking the sides in and holding it down, hoping that it’s strong enough to protect you from the fog. As you lay there in the parachute, panicked breathing the only sound inside, you start to become acutely aware of the fact that you are next to Bellamy. And not just next to him, practically on top of him, as you are all pressed so close. Your sides are pressed together, his hands holding the chute closed beside yours, skin touching. You turn to look at him, and he follows the gesture, your breath mingling as you say nothing.

Jasper is the first to break the silence. “How long are we supposed to wait?”

After a beat, Bellamy breaks your gaze and pulls back the parachute. “There's no fog.” As he stands, he spots a Grounder running through the trees, “They're coming back.”

“I think he's alone.”

Bellamy watches him closely, “He doesn't see us. I'm going after him.”

Finn holds out a hand, “And what? Kill him?”

“No. Catch him. Make him tell me where Octavia is, Then kill him.”

Bellamy starts running again, this time after the Grounder, quietly moving through the trees. You all trail behind, hesitant to follow a Grounder after the three dead delinquents you just saw, but determined to find Octavia, despite the odds. You watch as the Grounder ducks into a tunnel, and you creep in behind him, unsure what lays around every corner. Finally, the tunnel opens up into a cave, and there you find Octavia, chained to a wall, with the Grounder at her feet. 

Bellamy runs towards her and frees her from the wall, and they pull each other into a hug. You watch with a smile as they hold each other tight, finding comfort in each other. When they release each other, she pulls you into a hug next, and you smile again, realizing it’s been a while since your last hug. When you let each other go, Octavia moves to the door. “We should go. Now. Before he wakes up.”

Bellamy picks up a large piece of wood and moves closer to the Grounder, “He's not gonna wake up.”

Octavia grabs him and pulls him back, “Bellamy, stop. He didn't hurt me. Let's just go!”

“They started this.” Bellamy looks down at Finn, who is kneeling beside the man. “Finn. Move.”

Finn grabs something attached to the Grounder’s waist, and you see it as he shifts to the side. “A foghorn.”

And before anything else can be said, the Grounder jumps up and spins around, plunging a knife into Finn’s chest. Finn falls backwards as the Grounder knocks Bellamy to his back, and you pull your knife out and run towards him, plunging it into his shoulder. He turns from his advance on Bellamy and pulls the knife out, before spinning and slashing you across the stomach with it. Bellamy runs at him from behind, jumping on his back, and the Grounder tries to swing him off. You use the opportunity to advance on him, but the Grounder kicks out and lands a solid blow to your chest, sending you backwards. 

He falls on his back, slamming Bellamy into the ground, knocking the wind out of him. The Grounder scrambles up and over to the weapon Bellamy was going to use on him, turning the wood around to the pointed end and aiming for Bellamy’s throat. Bellamy grips the point, using every ounce of strength to keep the spear from entering his neck, and Octavia cries out from beside Finn. “Stop! That's my brother!”

You try to pull yourself up to help Bellamy, groaning in pain as you do. Just as you get near them, Jasper runs from the corner holding a different piece of wood, and swings at the Grounder, knocking him out cold. You collapse next to Bellamy, both of you panting for breath. 

Octavia’s voice echoes around the small cave, “Guys, he’s losing consciousness! Finn, wake up!”

Bellamy is the first to stand and move over to Finn, and seconds later he calls your name, voice laced with concern. His tone is what makes you move quickly, reminding you of the day you found Atom. When you reach Finn’s side, you instantly realize the danger he’s in. “Shit.”

Jasper whispers, “Should we take the knife out?”

“No!” You look up and meet his eyes. “That knife is dangerously close to his heart. If you pull it out, he’ll bleed out before we can even help.”

You turn your gaze to Bellamy. “We have to get him to Clarke, I don’t know enough to save him.”

You put your hand on Finn’s cheek and whisper, “You hang in there, Finn. Clarke will kill me if you don’t make it.”

And then Bellamy scoops him up, careful of his wound, and exits the cave. You all move as quickly as you can given the amount of injured people in the group, and Bellamy makes Monroe help you along, as Jasper helps Octavia. As you near camp, you send Monroe back to Octavia. “Tell Jasper to run ahead and get Clarke, and you help Octavia into camp.”

She nods and runs ahead, and you watch as she relays the message, and Jasper takes off running towards camp, screaming your twin’s name. “Clarke! Where's Clarke? Get Clarke now.”

He disappears inside the walls, Octavia and Monroe close behind, and you and Bellamy move faster. You squeeze Finn’s shoulder, “You’re almost there, Clarke is waiting for you.”

You step back and let Bellamy enter the camp first, and a group of guys runs over to help lift Finn from Bellamy’s arms. You hear the panic in your twin’s voice as she checks his pulse, “Finn. Finn? Oh, my god.”

She lets out a little sigh of relief before immediately taking charge, “He's alive. Get him in the dropship now. Go!” 

The boys run off with Finn, and Raven moves towards Clarke, crying. “Clarke, can you save him?”

“No. Not me. I need my mother. I need to talk to her.”

Raven’s voice cracks, “There's still no radio.”

“Raven, fix it! Go!”

She runs a hand through her hair, turning to look at you and Bellamy, pausing when her eyes land on you and your blood stained shirt. She runs towards you, full of sisterly concern, forgetting your harsh words from the day before. She reaches out for you, already searching for the wound. “Are you okay?”

You wave her off, “I’m fine. Go take care of Finn. I can patch myself up.” She hesitates, and you squeeze her hand in reassurance. “I’m fine. Go!”

She runs off, checking on Octavia on the way, who is coming back your way, to the entrance of the camp. You step back a little already sensing the beginning of an argument. Bellamy runs her down, “Why were you defending him?”

“Because he saved my life. That spear that hit Roma was actually meant…”

He cuts her off, “No, you're wrong. I saved your life. For all you know, he was keeping you alive to use you as bait for one of their traps.”

“No. I don't think so.”

His voice rises, growing more exasperated. “You don't think, O! That's the problem. They killed 3 of our people today. And if you would've let me kill him when I had the chance, Finn wouldn't be in there dying right now.”

Octavia’s exasperation grows to meet his, and she blows up, “Stop blaming me for your mistakes! What happened to Finn is not my fault. I wanted to leave, so if Finn dies in there, that's on you!” She punctuates her words by pointing to his chest. “Everything that's gone wrong is because of you. You got me locked up on the Ark. You wanted me to go to that stupid dance! You got mom killed!”

You watch as Bellamy’s face sinks, and then he starts to build the wall, brick by brick, jaw now clenching with anger instead. You try to stop them, before the fight grows worse, and creates a rift. A rift like the one you and Clarke have. You touch his arm and whisper, “Bellamy.”

He shrugs you off and barrels on, “Mom was floated for having you. She's dead because you're alive. That was her choice. I didn't have a choice. My life ended the day you were born.”

Octavia’s face crumples as the last sentence, and she tries to storm off out of the camp, but Bellamy grabs her arm and pulls her back, “Where do you think you're going?”

“You can't keep me locked up in here forever.”

You feel yourself start to grow faint and you put a hand to your wound, panicking when you realize your shirt is sticky with new blood. You mutter his name again, “Bellamy.”

He turns towards the gate of the camp, and yells at a kid outside the walls, “Get inside. Go!”

He scrambles past you as Bellamy pulls the door closed with a slam, and as he turns to you, you look up at him, holding up your hand covered in fresh blood. Worry etches across his face and he runs towards you, just as your legs start to give out. He catches you easily, “Woah, easy there.” He starts to lead you to the dropship, “Let’s get you to Clarke.”

“No!” He looks down at you in confusion. “She’s got enough to worry about with Finn.”

He hesitates, and then offers, “I have some supplies in my tent, if that’s okay.”

“Yes.”

He leads you back to his tent, and helps you sit down, before he starts to gather supplies to bandage you up. As your adrenaline wears off and the pain receptors on your stomach start firing, you’re able to ignore any potential awkwardness as you try to focus on not passing out. Bellamy comes back over to you, supplies in hand, and kneels beside you, looking up at you in permission. You pull your tank top up and secure it around your chest, keeping yourself covered while also giving him a good view of the cut. 

He dips a rag into some water and starts to clean the blood away, dabbing carefully over the wound. You wince anyway, and Bellamy looks up at you, apologetic, before attempting to distract you. “I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but Shumway was the one who came to me with the deal.” You look down at him, and he clarifies, “To get on the dropship.”

“After Octavia’s arrest, and our mom’s death, I got kicked off the guard and stuck on janitorial duty. The day they planned to launch the dropships, Shumway came to me with a deal. He said if I killed Jaha, he’d get me on a dropship and send me to the ground with Octavia, so I could protect her.” He gets another clean rag and continues to wash away the blood, “I knew I was going to do it as soon as he offered. I didn’t even hesitate when faced with the decision of taking someone’s life to save my sister…”

He trails off, lost in thought, and you wonder what about. Before you can ask, he shakes his head and continues, “Anyways, that’s where I was coming from when I came across you and Shumway in the hall.”

“Explains why you were so jumpy.”

“Yeah, well…”

You smile a little, “I’m glad you showed up. I’m not sure what would have happened if you didn’t.” You shudder at the thought, as Bellamy starts to bandage your cut, wrapping the cloth around your middle. “I told you he was opportunistic though. Deals were always his thing.”

Bellamy secures the bandage and leans back, inspecting his work. He smiles, satisfied, and starts to clean up, motioning towards the bed. “You should get some rest.”

You start, surprised, and he starts to backtrack, “I mean, you don’t have to or anything. And it’s not like I’d be in here, so you don’t have to worry about that. Just thought you might want something a little comfier to sleep on besides a tree branch.”

You look up in surprise, meeting his eyes, and he laughs at the look of shock on your face. “How long have you known?”

“Since the beginning. You’re not as invisible as you think you are.”

You feel a change in the air, something akin to affection, and you rub your palms on your pants, uncomfortable. “Well, I guess I’ll get some rest then.”

Bellamy stands, and steps back, “Yeah, of course. I’ll put someone on guard outside the tent, in case you need anything.”

Your eyes soften, and you smile at him. “Thanks, Bellamy.”

He smiles and ducks his head to hide it, before raking a hand through his hair. “Yeah, of course.” He starts to back away, towards the entrance of the tent, “Like I said, just yell if you need anything.”

He gives you one last look before ducking out, leaving you alone inside a large tent and a bed meant for...three. Your stomach sinks as you think of Roma, and you settle back into the bed, whispering to yourself, “In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground.” Your eyes close and you sink deeper into the makeshift bed, drifting into sleep as you finish, “May we meet again.”

-

next chapter

[chaoswillfallrpg]

SEVERUS SNAPE is TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD and a POTIONEER in KNOCKTURN ALLEY at MR MULPEPPER’S APOTHECARY. He looks remarkably like VIVEIK KALRA and considers himself aligned with THE DEATH EATERS. He is currently TAKEN. 

→ OVERVIEW:

Bitter and arrogant, Severus Snape always thought of himself as the smartest person in the room. The only child born to Muggle, TOBIAS SNAPE and Witch, EILEEN PRINCE, he grew up in Spinner's End which was located at the poor end of Cokeworth. A curious boy, his thirst for information could not be quenched by the neighbouring children, but instead by the books piled high in every crevice of his small terraced house. Severus grew up alone, not because he was an only child but because that was the way he liked it. Thankful that he didn't have an annoying sibling following him around, he thrived by himself in his room. His mother pestered him constantly to go out and play with the children outside, but to her dismay he stayed put with his abnormally large nose in a book. Eventually she left him to it, much easier to allow the boy to stay in his room than to be under the feet of his father. Tobias Snape was a cold man, not one fit for fatherhood. What little time he spent at Spinner’s End was wasted in his armchair by the fire, taking no notice of his son and only acknowledging his wife when she did something worthy of a scolding. Severus grew to hate his father but was never bold enough to say it out loud. He kept it to himself, identifying further and further with the Prince side of his family rather than the Muggle side he grew to loathe year upon year. 

His father forced him to develop a growing disdain for Muggles and what he thought they represented. If they could be this cold and cruel towards their own kin, then what must they be like towards others? Severus enjoyed his sheltered life, not even realising what he was missing. Happy in his home-made solitude he spent his days in his room drinking in as much information as he could. To Severus, knowledge was power and he who yielded it correctly could do just about anything. His solitude ended however on the day he met LILY EVANS. Walking down the street on one unusually hot September afternoon, he spotted her walking home from the Muggle school just round the corner. Meeting Lily opened up his life to an entire world he had been missing, and he opened hers in turn. A Muggle-Born witch, Lily had no understanding of the Wizarding World, and Severus was more than happy to tell her all about it. Usually one to shy away from others, not having a high attention span for other people's lack of intelligence, Severus found Lily strangely enticing. Teaching her about the magical world and all it contained was the happiest he could be, as she sat in awe. Ever since that September afternoon the pair were inseparable, Severus would spend his days no longer in his room, but reading by the lake near Lily’s house while she was at school. They discussed magical creatures, wizarding politics and most of all Hogwarts. September 1st came around quickly and Severus boarded the train with his second-hand trunk filled with his second-hand books. 

Sorted into Slytherin, he watched from his table as Lily made her way towards her new house, Gryffindor. He sulked as he saw her make new friends who would become his biggest enemies in the years to follow. Dreams of the pair spending their Hogwarts years together quickly dwindling, Severus made friends or rather acquaintances with some fellow snakes he was to be sharing a dorm with. JASPER AVERY and LARKIN MULCIBER were friends from before Hogwarts, but were happy to welcome him into the fold if he matched their Pure-Blood ideals that had been handed down to them from their fathers. Taking this new chapter in his stride, he became close to the pair and got involved in their more light-hearted jesting of the other students. Only able to take them in small doses however he often found himself alone. He got a reprieve from the loneliness the following year when REGULUS BLACK joined Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin alongside him. A quiet and sullen boy much like himself, the pair got on exceptionally well, often reading in silence and discussing more intellectual subjects than Avery and Mulciber were seemingly capable of. What little time Severus wasn't spending with his nose in a book he would spend staring across to the Gryffindor table. He watched throughout the years as Lily made friends with the Marauders. JAMES POTTER, SIRIUS BLACK, REMUS LUPIN and PETER PETTIGREW slowly became famous at Hogwarts, shining in the foreground of Lily’s life while Severus felt himself slowly fade away from her life. 

What started as small glances here and there became an obsession with the boys who occupied Lily’s day and bitterly disliked him as he took up whatever little time she had left. James, the ringleader of the group despised Severus and encouraged his little minions to join him in the torment. James’ dislike for Severus however was nothing in comparison to the Slytherins' dislike of James; his arrogant egocentric personality made him an easy target for Severus’ disdain. Severus truly despised the boy due to his total and complete ability to capture the attention of Lily, who whenever he would glance over to the Gryffindor table almost seemed to be softening towards the scruffy-haired boys clear attention-seeking antics. His friendship with Lily had become strained over the years, both tried to keep it alive and thriving but the influences of their different friendship groups led to tension between the pair. Severus spent most of his free time investigating the group of misfit Gryffindors that were stealing his friend away, adamant they were hiding something, their cruel taunts, ‘Snivellus’ jokes and their closeness to a certain redhead only adding fuel to his fire. It all came to a head when a prank gone wrong masterminded by Sirius ended up with Severus owing a life debt to the one he despised the most, James Potter. He had followed the group one evening with a personal invite to do so by Black to find Lupin turning into a werewolf in front of his very eyes, a stag jumped between the pair and led the beast away. 

Severus later found out in PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE’s office that the stag was none other than James in his animagus form when the headmaster was swearing him to secrecy about the matter. After the incident Severus tried to keep away from the Marauders and Lily consequently. The time he used to spend watching them he would now spend in a foggy potions room working on elixirs that were far beyond the capabilities of a normal Hogwarts student. He thrived in the subject, along with DADA and when it came to revising he would seek out Reg rather than Lily more and more. The last thread keeping their friendship alive was cut the day James Potter decided to use one of his own spells against him. Severus had a knack for inventing new spells, and the Levicorpus spell had taken Hogwarts by storm, not knowing he was the creator of the charm, James used it to humiliate Severus in front of Lily and his friends. On this occasion, like so many others, Lily defended the boy, still under the illusion he was her best friend even though they hardly spoke these days. Severus was not a boy who wanted to appear weak, he didn't like the idea of people thinking he couldn't defend himself, and so he took his annoyance out on the only person he truly cared for and before he could think the words ‘filthy mudblood’ were out of his mouth. The next thing he knew he was hanging upside down by his ankles from a tree and watched as Lily walked away from him and their friendship. After that Severus fell further into the crowd of Slytherins, following the path his housemates pathed for him, he and his friends would use the word ‘mudblood’ with much more frequency, so much so that it drew the attention of Larkin’s older brother who had a proposition for the trio. 

The three boys were introduced to THE DARK LORD, a man who had ideas about blood purity and what to do with mudbloods, fueled by his annoyance of the Marauders and Lily, and the fact it would seem Regulus was already part of the fold, Severus signed himself up to the cause. Severus finished Hogwarts with exceptional grades, the best potioneer PROFESSOR SLUGHORN had seen in all his years of teaching and fell in to working at Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary as a potioneer. When not working at the shop, Severus is usually at The Death Eater headquaters meeting with his mentor of sorts LUCIUS MALFOY, a man he had heard of but never met before, Lucius guides and informs him of the needs of their leader. Through his job Severus was also reintroduced to a woman he knew from school, several years his senior, PATRICIA RAKEPICK was a curse breaker for Gringotts and had a specific interest in the subtle art of potions and so would frequent the shop several times a week. He had found the girl annoying and gaudy at school but had found his feelings about her confused since. His love/hate feelings for her intrigued him greatly and with each visit she made to the shop he became more aware of the spark between them. Scared that his interest had everything to do with the girls flaming red hair and fiery personality Severus was at a loss for how to proceed, especially in a world where he has to worry about his supposed unwavering loyalty to a cause and a man he does not quite know if he supports.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Half-Blood

Pronouns → He/Him

Identification → Cis Male 

Sexuality  → Greysexual

Relationship Status → Single

Previous Education →  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin)

Family → N/A

Connections  → Lily Evans (object of affection), Patricia Rakepick (potential love interest), Regulus Black (close friend), Jasper Avery (close friend), Larkin Mulciber (close friend), Lucius Malfoy (mentor), Clarence Mullpepper (boss), James Potter (adversary), Sirius Black (adversary), Remus Lupin (adversary), Peter Pettigrew (adversary)

Future Information → Traitor to The Death Eaters, Eventual Member of The Order of the Phoenix

SEVERUS SNAPE IS A LEVEL 7 WIZARD.

[wonderlusttwilight]

♡ Alice, Jasper x Reader ♡ 18+

{ Includes: dirty talk, blowjobs, petnames (only like.... two) and eating out. Will probably get more graphic if I write a part two. Lmao. } *~* Jasper has been watching Alice for some time now. Which, yeah, it was a given due to the fact they've been together for centuries. However, the typical loving and affectionate look she would always give him was no longer there. And that was not only concerning but worrisome for Jasper. Had he done something wrong? Usually, Jasper never acted like this. He was better behaved than that. He never acted as if he was an anxious, teenage girl, worrying about what was going on in the relationship. Expect, that's totally how he was behaving. And he hated every second of it too. One day, he finally gathered enough courage up and put all those concerned and anxious feelings to the side as he goes to ask Alice about it. "Darlin'?" He gives a gentle tap on the frame of the door as he waited for an answer. He hears muffled whispers, a faint giggle and then some shuffling coming from inside. Finally, the door is being pulled open and Alice is standing there, giving a sheepish yet... almost shy smile. "Hi, baby." She cooed, leaning up on the balls of her feet as she plants a gentle yet adoring kiss on Jasper's cheek. "You know, I've been expecting you." She said as her feet came back to touch the floor. Alice reaches over, taking Jasper's hand into her much smaller one as she goes over to their queen sized mattress. There, on the bed was another female, looking at Alice and Jasper both with the same expression Alice had given him not only a second ago. "Jasper, you remember (Y/N) correct?" Alice asks, dropping his hand as she makes herself comfortable on the bed besides the girl. (Y/N) (L/N) They've only met a few times. Five, if not the most. They saw each other at a party they held not too long ago, bumped into her while taking a stroll into town once and of course, they all went to high school and shared classes together. He wouldn't deny the obvious fact - (Y/N) was as beautiful as Alice. And a girl that gorgeous was hard to forget, truly. Though, he would never admit that. Even though Alice, really, wasn't the jealous type. Jasper preferred to keep that thought to himself. Jasper couldn't help but feel concerned and somewhat frustrated then. (Y/N) was a human. Why was she here? Among us, blood drinking and undeadly creatures? Jasper wondered. She, so easily, could expose our secret too! He thought. And right as that thought popped into his head, Alice gave a nervous giggle and shook her head from side to side. "I'm no mind reader like Edward is but I know what you're thinking, Jas. Come, sit down with us. We've got to talk." And as confused as he may be, - especially with what she just said in front of a human - Jasper obliges and sits in the middle of them both, the mattress sinking beneath his weight. "What's going on?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed and lips parted to the side as a mixture of emotions paint itself across his face. All of which were negative but that was a given and quite obvious. Alice takes a deep breath in and he can't help but take notice that (Y/N) had reached over and squeezed Alice's hand. Why - he didn't know. But he was soon going to find out. "Jasper, as you already know, I haven't been myself lately." Jasper nodded and gave a chuckle. "I'm very well aware of that, doll." He replied. "And... well, I don't know how to tell you this but... (Y/N) is the reason." Jasper blinked. Once, twice. He didn't understand. Alice and (Y/N) both looked at each other once they took notice of his expression and they erupted into a storm of giggles. Almost as soon as it started, however, they stopped and their expressions changed back to serious. "I've been having visions. Of this exquisite, gorgeous and oh, so wonderful girl." (Y/N)'s cheeks gave away a hint of crimson and this time, it was Alice that squeezed her hand in return. And Jasper knew in that moment Alice was talking about (Y/N). "And... well, some of us just don't have one love. We have two. Maybe even more. But in this situation, it's you two." She explained. "And I know you feel the same way about her aswell. Don't even try to lie or deny it. I've been seeing the visuals everywhere. The feelings for her are the same you have for me. You gained them at the party we had a few months back." And Jasper sat there, feeling dumbfounded and yet totally foolish too. Of course, he couldn't get away with his thoughts or actions. Alice could see everything. Even before it happened. "That's why I've been distancing myself." Alice continued. "I didn't mean to, my love. It has nothing to do with you, either. You're as perfect as you were when I first met you. So, do not fret and think you have done something wrong because you haven't. However, I had to have you come to me before I could tell you what was going on and why I was acting the way I was. Or... well, come to us, anyhow. So, we could show you how this all would work. Us, three, together." Alice's tongue darted out of her mouth as she wets her lips. "Besides, isn't it every man's fantasy to have two, beautiful women beside him?" "Or, perhaps underneath him?" And that was the first thing (Y/N) had said during this entire conversation. And quite frankly, both women's words went straight to his cock and he could feel it twitch in his pants. "Come on, Jasper. Admit it. Don't lie to yourself. You've been wanting her for some time, yes? Wanting - no, craving for this for awhile. Now, is your chance. Today and every day, you can have us." Alice purred, leaning down as her tongue comes within contact of Jasper's neck as she sets soft yet wet and seductive kisses over the smooth, cold surface. Jasper grunts in reply, eyes fluttering shut as he gives a weak, timid nod. "Hm," He mumbles. "Today and everyday?" He asked, a smirk finding its way on his lips. "I can live with that, darlin'." "Heyyy." (Y/N) mewled, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout. "If she's darlin', what's going to be my petname?" She asks, the pout only growing bigger yet both Alice and Jasper knew she wasn't truly upset by it. "Considering you just mewled like a kitten, that's what you will be. Now, kitten, why don't you and darlin' both come here and show me a good time, hm? After all, I have been wanting this for some time." Alice tssked, slapping Jasper's chest playfully. (Y/N) watched with fond in her eyes and love written across her face. How, on earth, did she get so lucky to be involved in this relationship? She'd never know. She's quick to snap out of her thoughts and she goes to stand up, eyes never leaving her now boyfriend and girlfriend's. She, as she strips down to nothing but her panties and bra, watches Alice and Jasper lazily yet hungrily kissing each other. Jasper's hands were on Alice's waist while Alice's hand was dangled inbetween his golden curls, tugging it here and there as the session grew hotter and the two grew more sexually frustrated with each other. Even though neither three had done anything sexual yet, the room was beginning to gain the scent of it. Jasper and Alice are quick to pull back and this time, while Alice is getting rid of the clothes she wore, Jasper gestured (Y/N) over with his fingers. "C'mere, kitten. Think you can undo my belt and unzip these jeans for me?" Asks Jasper, his eyes dilating as they gaze down, taking in her perfectly rounded body. Noticing every small detail there was to her. The small freckles on the outside skirt of her stomach, the moles on her thighs and hips and fuck - the sweet scent of her wetness dripping down into the fabric of her underwear, getting the layer of her panties smothered with her own juices. Fuck. "Actually, on second thought, strip out of those pretty little panties, kitten. Then, come and sit on my face." Jasper's eyes flicker over to Alice who now was fully nude and looking at them both with lust and hunger. "As for you, darlin', undo my belt and zipper and suck my cock like a good girl." Alice smirks in reply as she goes and focuses on the lower half of her boyfriend while (Y/N) goes to the top part. With her breath hitching in her throat and her heart pounding loudly against her ears, (Y/N) squats down and pushes her warm, wet pussy onto Jasper's face. Moaning in response, Jasper is quick to devor her tasty cunt. This causes (Y/N) to shriek out in pure ecstasy and bliss, already quick to rock her hips back and forth against the man's tongue. His tongue was going in and out of her pussy while doing figure 8's on her clit too here and there and Christ - this is what Heaven was. (Y/N) was in it, for sure. Meanwhile, Alice had Jasper's eight inched, thick and full cock in her mouth and she was bopping her head up and down, hollowing in her cheeks as she tries to take him all in. Jasper, because of this, fucks (Y/N) with his tongue faster, even adding his finger into her warm, massively soaked walls. "Ohh... fuck!" She squeals, feeling Jasper's cold yet thick and long finger inside her vagina. (Y/N) could feel the end of his lips turning up into a smile against her skin as he continued his actions. He then added another finger and by this time, (Y/N)'s body is trembling, her head is thrown back and eyes are nearly back in her head. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-" She chants, feeling the familiar heat pooling at her stomach and before she knows it, an orgasm is ripping through her and she's making an even bigger mess on Jasper's face, coating his skin with her juices. It doesn't take long until Jasper is fucking himself into Alice's mouth and in five thrusts, he's cumming with a cry of both of their names. (Y/N) tumbles over and flops onto the bed, her chest heaving up and down as she tries and catches her breath. Alice is humming in pure delight and satisfaction as she wipes her mouth off, seductively licking her fingers with bits of Jasper's sperm on them. "Always taste so good." She smirked, leaning over as she kisses her boyfriend, moaning softly at the delightfully sweet taste of (Y/N) on his tongue. They kiss for awhile before pulling back and looking at (Y/N) who now had her hands down inbetween her thighs, a sheepish smile on her face. "What? That's not all we're going to be doing, is it?" And both Jasper and Alice smirk in unison before shaking their heads 'no'. "Okay, good. Now, I want both of you to fuck me. Right here and right now." And well.. Jasper, really, didn't expect his night to go like this at all nor the conversation with Alice to end up like this. But... really, he isn't complaining. 》 My first smut which I am full aware isn't the best. But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it. I'm actually thinking about making this into a small, 3 or 4 mini series. Not sure yet. I know the next part will have more sexual explicit shit 😂 Actual fucking rather than just a blowjob and eating out. Anyways. I hope you enjoyed :) 《

[volturialice]

Spork Haven chapter 23: salt fucking peter

welcome to spork haven, where I spork the EL James fic you’ve never heard of

previous chapter | next chapter | contents

previously on Spork Haven:

actor!Edward got an outlandish fucking award and became Best Actor!Edward! hotel maid murder witness cello prodigy orphaned ““cajun”” heiress!Bella was his date to the awards show! Ed looked into Emmett’s dark burning eyes and had a Moment! Bella felt dizzy and then went missing! will the Volturi mafia succeed in murdering her? let’s hope so stick around and find out!

warning: this chapter is incredibly long. please check the tags for content warnings—there are a lot! it’s eventful, though, so we’ll give it a pass. but settle in and make yourself comfortable. maybe go get a drink or something. I know I needed a drink after I read this garbage.

chapter 23 opens with Edward attempting to process the fact that Bella has disappeared. he does this in what I have to admit is a pretty seamless fusion of el james’s and stephenie meyer’s trademark styles (negative space here preserved for authenticity):

wow. eat your heart out, New Moon.

once we’ve experienced that bit of totally original typesetting magic, Edward leaps into action! 

just kidding. he’s “totally fucking immobilized.” paralyzed with fear, he “stifles a sob” and toys with whether to “wail, scream, and tear his hair out with impotence”

luckily, he’s very good at giving himself pep talks:

this bracing self-administered kick in the pants unfreezes him, allowing him to summon the mental faculties to go get Emmett.

Emmett clears the ladies’ room and calls for backup. He and Edward search the restroom and are joined by a rando Local security guard as they discover—gasp!—a secret second exit to the bathroom (shoutout to the phoenix airport womens’ room, amirite?) leading into a service tunnel.

the Local security guard informs them that the tunnel leads to an alley, but the alley’s only exit is onto Hollywood Boulevard. you know, the street currently clogged with limos, paparazzi, cameras, and fans. idk about y’all but I’m starting to think this kidnap attempt may have been just a tad poorly conceived. why kidnap her at all? they had ample time to kill her, dump her body in the service tunnel, and make their escape unencumbered.

as Ed, Emmett, and Local race down the service tunnel, Emmett radios for Jasper to go around and cut the Bad Guys off in the alley. Edward is the slowest of the bunch

so he quickly falls behind the other two.

he’s trying to catch up when—wait! what’s that on the ground? something...sparkly?

that’s right: he pauses in chasing after Bella and her kidnapper in order to notice “six thousand dollars’ worth of earring” lying on the ground.

then he stops and picks it up.

now, I know what you’re thinking, guys—is he seriously stopping to pick up a lost earring when Bella’s life is in danger?—but keep in mind, these earrings were twelve thousand dollars. also, Edward loves earrings! they make him horny! what else is he supposed to suck on at Bella’s funeral?

I mean, yeah, if your worst fear was that Bella might lose an earring.

what indeed, Edward. what indeed. 

imagine for a second that you’re Emmett in this fic. you’re a law enforcement professional racing to protect your charge’s life, bellowing into your walkie for backup, preparing to apprehend an armed and dangerous suspect in an area full of innocent civilians...when suddenly, from somewhere far behind you in the dingy gloom of the service tunnel, you hear the sniveling, British-accented voice of the bitchass manchild celebrity who’s tagging along:

“I’vE fOuNd hEr eArRiNg!”

jesus.

still ahead of Eddie boy, Emmett and Local burst out into the alley, guns drawn. Edward hears gunfire and is terrified for Bella as he finally catches up and arrives at the scene.

this is about where erika’s writing gets...incredibly confusing. and not in a POV, “we’re in the character’s head experiencing the chaos with him in real time” way. more like in a “several dozen drunk blind amputees playing Twister” way. this is my cute way of saying “it’s bad” and “I had to read it four times before it began to make sense.”

in the alley, all is chaos. a gun has just gone off

I’m sorry. salt...peter? saltpeter? did someone shoot off a Ye Olde Civil War Musket? I know fuckall about firearms and even I know they phased that shit out in the fucking 1880s.

and while we’re here, fun trivia fact about saltpeter: in Olden Times, people would ingest saltpeter in order to nuke their sex drives. silly Olden Times! if it’s a bonerkiller you’re after, all you have to do is read this fic!

ok, back to the alley. security are cordoning it off, keeping the “fucking jackal” paparazzi at bay (already?)

the LAPD are arriving (already??) 

but perhaps most interestingly,

real quick before we get into whose body it is, why we’re sexually objectifying it, and what it’s oozing, I just wanna draw your attention to the construction of that sentence. the artistry, if you will. below, I have replaced some of the nouns so that we may all appreciate the sheer poetry of the syntax:

“there’s a fucking meatball lying prone on the floor, all covered with cheese, a dark cloud oozing under the meatball.”

sitting a few feet away from the Skirt & Heels Body™ is Jasper, cradling the unconscious Bella. you could be forgiven for thinking that first body (you know, the oozing one) was Bella’s, because that’s what the narration wants you to think. the effect is somehow both enhanced and ruined by the fact that Bella’s actual body is mentioned in the next sentence. erika really tried to have her suspense cake and eat it too, with the result that by the time I finished reading this paragraph, I had absolutely no idea how many bodies there were or who they belonged to, which ones had on a skirt and heels, which ones were oozing, and where.

another excerpt I should probably share is the paragraph where we describe Edward reacting to this tragic pietà.

here’s our text, raw and unedited:

I can’t even begin to list all the ways this paragraph makes me uncomfortable, so I won’t attempt to.

anyway. remember how in the last chapter, there was an incredibly gay bit where Edward looked into Emmett’s dark, burning eyes? fasten your seatbelts because we’re about to blow that bit out of the water.

ｌｕｍｉｎｏｕｓ ｈａｚｅｌ ｅｙｅｓ

filled with

𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒

the next sentence tries to take us back into heterosexual territory with

are we meant to understand that Jasper’s luminous hazel eyes are saying “don’t you just wish it was you getting to cradle Bella’s unconscious, injured body?” yes, that is exactly what we’re meant to understand. this attitude continues as Bella is loaded into an ambulance. at first, Jasper tries to stop Edward from coming, then the paramedic says they can both come but only if they sit on opposite sides of the ambulance like kindergarteners in Time Out.

l o n g i n g l y

the paramedics also checked the other body (you know, the oozing skirt and heels body) and Edward made a startling observation:

though oozing, the mystery person is still alive, and a second ambulance hauls off

and here I was thinking all this story needed to make it complete was some veiled transphobia! what a fun new direction for erika.

once at the hospital, Ed is banished to the waiting room with Emmett, Jasper, and Taylor. the doctors won’t let him see Bella, even when he tells them he’s her fiancé.

hmm. is it just me or is there a movie about this exact scenario?

yep, there are at least two movies about this exact scenario.

after the “fiancé” thing, Edward picks up on some bad vibes from Jasper

interesting. can you feel MY animosity hit you like a brick fucking wall? I guess it’s more of a brick fucking skyscraper at this point.

things we learn at the hospital:

Bella was roofied! so if you voted “poisoned” in the poll, I’m gonna give you this one. congrats on your victory.

Bella is fine now

Jasper shot the mysterious kidnapper in the chest. 

that’s right, Jasper is the cause of all the oozing. well done, Jasper. good luminous hazel eye.

finally, Bella wakes up and asks to see Edward. He goes back to see her 

and

she

dumps his ass.

not for any Sane People reasons, of course. having decided she’s “too dangerous to be around,” she breaks up with him in a scene straight out of New Moon, complete with “eyes full of tortured pain” and dialogue like

“You are too precious to me. Please. Go.”

Edward spends the whole scene in panicked denial, to the point where he’s practically gaslighting Bella, telling her she’s just been through a traumatic ordeal and she can’t possibly mean what she’s saying. 

then he interrupts her mid-breakup 

to fucking propose.

🤣🤣🤣 READ THE ROOM, BUDDY. Bella is resolute for the first time in her doormat life, turns down the proposal, and firmly breaks things off with Edward. he returns her earring (you remember, the six thousand dollar earring we paused in the middle of the climactic chase scene to pick up), “inhales her fragrant hair for the last time,” and leaves.

and with that, the chapter is FINALLY over.

possibility.mp3

best “fucks”

“level fucking head”

“a fucking microsecond”

“fucking sirens”

“loud fucking noises”

“enough fucking damage”

“a soothing fucking balm”

“fucking Hale”

“fucking purgatory” (the hospital waiting room)

“pale as fuck” (bella)

“fucking lifeless” (bella)

“non-believing fucking arse” (edward)

“like a fucking idiot” (edward)

best “shits”

next chapter: fucking blinds and curtains

[bellamygateoldblog]

best and worst relationships?

There’s a lot of varables to consider here, and I’m feeling sick and bored out of my mind, so i’m going the long way round. This is a nightmare to read on mobile, im so sorry.

‘Best’ and ‘Worst’ labels depend on a number of things:

— Story of the pairing

— General intrigue and how enjoyable their dynamic is to watch

— Chemistry of the two (or more) characters

— Presence (or lack of) valuable relationship qualities (is this relationship healthy according to the world it exists in?)

and the importance of each of those differs from person-to-person.

Note: Sticking to popular relationships. I’ve blocked names, but I’m also throwing it under a Read More because it’s long and negative. It’s largely anticlarke because she’s a terrifying character and her mere existence derails most of her dynamics. Ship and like whatever you like, I hate fandom gatekeeping. But you asked so let’s go.

There’s also no order to this. Welcome to chaos land.

Best ‘Best’ List: objectively good relationships

— Linctavia

— Marper 

— Spacekru

— David and Nate Miller

— Raven and Sinclair

Unconditional love, mutual respect and support, found family, would die (and live) for the other. I can’t find fault in them.

Memori

I had a bit more to say about this one because there’s something so highly romantic in two people abandoned by their clan, cast out, finding each other in a literal desert wasteland. Like they’re each other’s oasis. In meeting Emori, Murphy finally found acceptance after spending far too long alone, and being told he was worthless by people who’s approval meant something. And Emori having someone prepared to do whatever it takes to protect her and make her happy is everything I could’ve wanted for her. They’re so deeply in love.

Best List

Becho (pre-season six)

Your local enemies-to-lovers. partnership over co-dependency. Compromise. Affection and emotional support from both sides. Willing to throw themselves right into line-of-fire for the other. A cut ‘i love her’ scene which i’ve personally decided wasn’t cut. I LOVE THEM.

Arguments against:

- ‘killed’ Gina (moreso she aided her death) while acting on orders from her superiors

- ‘killed’ Octavia while acting on orders from her superiors

- killed Ilian/ attempted to help Roan win conclave over Octavia

- almost killed Clarke (season five)

- happened offscreen

Arguments to discredit previous arguments because I’m sick and tired of seeing them in the pro tags:

- Echo was Bellamy’s enemy through those first three listed events. Bellamy had no reason to expect loyalty or respect, or anything else from her. She was always looking out for her people just as Bellamy was his own. That was quite clear.

- In fact she actually tried to help Gina because she was important to Bellamy, apologised that she couldn’t and did save Bellamy’s life despite their enemy status.

- ‘killing’ Octavia was not in cold blood. It was actually an accident.

- This one is nonsense. She wanted to kill Clarke during season five “even though she’s important to Bellamy”…after she just left him to brutally die and held Echo and her family at gunpoint and threatened to kill them. Context matters.

- not a fan of the time jump either, but if you’re able to accept the Madi-Clarke relationship which also developed offscreen, you can deal with this one.

Hard to talk about this one without defending it. Echo deserves better than season six Bellamy, who would abandon her in order to chase a woman he knew for 6-ish months 6 years ago. I say it’s his loss.

Jonty

It was a beautiful relationship and then a beautiful breakdown of one. I really enjoyed their dynamic. About to get controversial and suggest Monty could’ve taken a different approach with Jasper. I’ve never committed genocide and had to learn to live with it while watching my best friend suffer from the decision, but I do have clinical depression and somewhat relate to Jasper. There was this scene, where in the background you see Jasper go to hug Monty goodbye and he avoids it. It was such a small but sad detail. I felt Monty wanted Jasper to deal with his grief in a certain way and got frustrated when he didn’t. Sometimes he could be insensitive and blaming, and i think had there been more communication their friendship could’ve been very healing for the both of them. I think we learn at one point Jasper actually thought Monty was “fine” and didn’t even realise or understand that Monty hurt too. Jasper had this tendancy to only consider his own feelings, and this put a rift between them. Tough love doesn’t work for everyone, and I think Monty’s sometimes cold approach held that rift in place. The simple fact that both sides are so easy to understand and empathise with, and that this gradual undoing of what was once an incredibly strong bond was inevitable, made watching it all wonderfully bittersweet.

Zaven

This was good, but it was so rushed it made me bitter towards them. While it was Raven being thrown with yet another random guy, this did strike me as much more meaningful than her fling with Wick and I think it would’ve been a lovely relationship had it been able to continue. I think this was that love Raven deserved. It’s a damn shame it was used as just another level of torture for her. I think if they had let it develop more naturally and not been so full-on so soon, and of course if the actor hadn’t opted to leave the show, this would’ve been up on my best ‘best’ list.

Dropping this here: being intelligent isn’t actually important when pairing Raven up. Fandom acts like she needs someone “on her level” or “at her speed” (shudders), someone to challenge her, which has always come across as very demeaning of characters with less intellectual capacity, as if they’re less than Raven because of this when they are absolutely not. This mentality also denies Raven of partners that can value her and treat her well just because they aren’t Stephan Hawking. A romance isn’t a competition or a class project. Shaw was good for her, not because of what his brain could do, but because of who he was.

Bellamy and Octavia

This bitch toxic, YEET. I adore it. I really do. It’s such an intriuging and complex dynamic. The poisonous nature of their relationship is neither of their own faults, they’re both a victim of their own circumstances and, in Octavia’s case, a lack of socialisation and, by extension, non-understanding of grey area is also intrinsicaly linked to it. They truely love one another, but aren’t learned in how to show this in healthy ways. Makes that back-and-forth an entertaining watch.

Main grievance:

Beating your brother bloody while he’s chained down and unable to defend himself against you is disturbing and inexcusable in any context, and whether or not you’re grieving is irrelevant.

Neutral List

C//exa

Placing this one here just because i don’t care about this relationship, but did like bits and pieces. I think this one ended before it even started. For me most of it’s appeal is in the gradual moulding of the dynamic and the many phases it went through. I did find intrigue in that journey. However the fact the show reminds me at least a few times a season that Lexa was the one has me digging my heels in. I hate being told what to think.

I don’t really remember it all that well so I don’t necessarily have strong opinions. I know some people do. At this point in the show I was growing more and more annoyed with Clarke, and eventually i went from liking Lexa to being indifferent to her, so a dynamic consisting of them both was the least interesting thing in the world to me by the time it started heating up.

I will say this is probably one of the only significant relationships Clarke has where she doesn’t ultimately have more power than the other half. There isn’t a mechanism there that allows one to use to do harm to the other to advantage themselves; Lexa is the commander, but Clarke is constantly pushing back and Lexa respects and listens to what she has to say. There is literally a shot of Clarke backing the most powerful person on the ground into a table. I think Clarke was a positive influence on Lexa, but during this time Clarke was slipping into worse and worse versions of herself.

Some thoughts:

I found it was innappropriate for Clarke, as a leader of her people who’s primary concern is supposed to be what’s best for them, to have become romantically involved with the commander of the people they hadn’t a stable relationship with, and who ultimately has the power to strip them of all freedoms. It’s so easy for those romantically and sexually charged feelings to cloud and confuse what are extremely important considerations to be made about the people back home. It wasn’t a very responsible relationship.

On the flipside of that, from this relationship Lexa was convinced to grow into peace. Which is quite obviously a positive affect. Though I found it was odd that Clarke, just a random teenage girl from space, would be (successfully) telling the commander how to manage her people when she herself was not at home overseeing the climate of her own. It just has some very weird implications.

Lexa’s betrayal at mount weather, actually a very silly and counter-productive decision, was what forced Clarke to lose her humanity in what was the most traumatic event of her entire life. The fact it was forgiven so easily was hard for me to get over.

M//rphamy

Season five was good for them. It seemed as if they’d grown, were much closer, more respectful, and more affectionate. Then season six happened, and Bellamy was back to treating Murphy like he was beneath everyone. He started again to talk about how therapeutic it would be to hurt him, as he has, physically, many times in the past. Just tearing open old wounds at this point. In season five he reminded Murphy he wasn’t worthless, that he did belong with the group, but in season six he went back on all that, and put Clarke ahead of him at every turn, and prioritied her feelings over his very real pain. They’ve had a complicated history of violence, usually coming from Bellamy’s more hot-headed side.

I put this here because it’s an immensely compelling dynamic. These characters work well together, there’s heaps of chemistry and allure in each of their interactions. It’s just an entertaining time whenever they share scenes. But despite that, I don’t know where I stand with them and I don’t know where they stand with each other as of season six.

Worst List

Be//arke

There is a mess of negative thoughts inspired by this relationship about proportionate to the amount it’s shoved in my face. Clarke is just no good for Bellamy. Is the concise way of putting it.

Here’s a list of some of them which I usually like to bury deep inside my head for sanity purposes:

Ignoring whether or not actions were for the people/the only option and focusing solely on how the relationship is affected by them regardless

- Clarke has a tendancy to view the most important person (pre-season five) in Bellamy’s life as necessary collateral damage. She has brought/almost brought harm to Octavia on multiple occasions, the two most notable being TonDC and the conclave. Both while being on the same side as Bellamy from a political standpoint, and both while his friend who he had reason to expect affirmation, consideration, and loyalty from. Clarke betrays those key values. This happens again in season five when Clarke’s Plan-A solution is to “take her out.”

( this is also what sets her apart from Echo, who was never in the position to make her own choices. Clarke has that agency and control that Echo’s superiors had, but never Echo. )

- and saying that, I think it’s incredibly hard for Clarke to maintain any meaningful relationships being in the position she’s in. How do you have friends when you have to always put them second?

- speaking of the conclave, Clarke held Bellamy at gunpoint in order to prevent him saving his sister’s life. She said she “didn’t pull the trigger” and that was that. All is forgiven. However she did pull the trigger in what was an attempt to scare him into submission so I really don’t even know what to say here. The writers kinda forgot?

- they aren’t equal. They haven’t been co-leaders since season one. He was demoted almost immediately to second-in-command beneath Clarke. Clarke is the leader, the literal head. She makes the choices while Bellamy gets her out of the trouble she usually gets herself into, risking himself and others in the process. It’s a racist trope. It’s the ‘white princess and her brown knight.’ She has agency and power and he’s her loyal soldier, subordinate. Inequality isn’t inherently a bad thing but this power imbalance between them is utilised in harmful ways.

- speaking of “the good knight by his queen’s side,” this comes across as codependency. Clarke relies on Bellamy’s support, validation and loyalty, while ‘the heart needs the head to tell it to beat.’ That’s paraphrased from season six, that’s an actual line in the show. Bellamy needs her to guide him, to “keep [him] centred,” that’s another line from the show. That’s still not enough? He literally tells us in season six that he needs her, and has needed her in the past if his psychosis episode is anything to go by. He has impeccably low self esteem and views himself less than. I mean if you need further convincing of they’re inequality, just look to their places on the ark which are quickly reinstated once it reaches the ground. Clarke is upper class, she’s later the daughter of the chancellor, she comes from a loving family, from one of (if not, the) more well-off stations, she’s educated and she has passions, but Bellamy? From the poorest ark station, raised by an emotionally abusive mother, a janitor, his whole motivation his entire life has been to love and protect Octavia. I think a lot of this devotion he has for her comes from a place of idolisation, of seeing something in her he wants for himself.

- now this ugly trope could also come from an absense of Octavia. The moment they get to the ground Octavia is on a journey of self-discovery. And eventually, she becomes her own protector, and she finds a home in Lincoln. So naturally Bellamy looks for the closest relationship he can find that resembles that old one. It’s Bellamy and Clarke. Now, instead of Octavia, he’s driven by and found purpose in protecting Clarke. In fact, the Clarke-Bellamy dynamic has so many similarities to the Octavia-Bellamy one I can absolutely see the sibling like quality to Be//arke.

- Clarke abandons Bellamy after mount weather. She leaves because she can’t bare the reminder of “what [she] did to get them here.” So she leaves and instead Bellamy is the one forced to see the faces of the 48 every day, reminding him of what he did to get them there. Clarke comes across as completely oblivious in this entire situation. Bellamy and Monty are both written using the word “we” to refer to the mount weather genocide, but Clarke? It’s “I” and “me” every time. It’s as if she truely believes she’s the only one suffering from it, she’s bearing it so they don’t have to, except that isn’t true at all and that fact is so painfully clear. Later she tells him she knew she could leave because the people had him, but who did Bellamy have? He dealt with that weight and that grief alone because the only other person who could possibly understand, the one who pulled the lever with him, ran away. After she had convinced him not to in season one. She then comes back informing him she’d been acting on behalf of her people in Polis, without the people’s own knowledge or consent, but i digress, and he’d just ruined everything. So much for co-leaders. And he blows up at her, and we see how badly this action hurt him.

- In season five she leaves him to die out of spite and took her daughter to the people he saved her from at the beginning of the season. It could’ve been avoided, but she decided to punish him. That’s all it was. Don’t give me none of that “I had to!!!” she screams in season six to mindspace!Octavia. Bellamy was forced into role of father at just 6 years old and has proved time and time again he was prepared to risk it all in order to protect his child, there was nobody more equipped to handle Madi than him and her yelling in his face that he couldn’t understand was perhaps the biggest betrayal of them all.

- In season five she tortured and almost murdered his entire family. After switching sides again at the end of the season, all this pain inflicted was meaningless. You can talk all you want at me about Clarke’s *reasons* but all she did was take the path of most destruction towards the same end-point. It was just unnecessary violence caused because she had this desperation to take the wheel.

- all of this works because the writing is always in Clarke’s favour. The show is framed in a way that makes Clarke sympathetic, emphasises how much causing others pain hurts her, and that means that she’s never held to any of these actions, she might get a stern talking to but she’s forgiven insanely easily and allowed to go on with no actual change.

Pr//ncess M//chanic

Unfortunately, from what i’ve gathered, there’s a lot of racism in this one just as there is in Be//arke. I mean the entire nature of the relationship relies on the elevation of Clarke and the narrative power to demote Raven to ‘second best’ and prop over and over again. Raven, a girl who works her ass off to make most of the victories in the show possible, actually spoke the words “she saved us again” after launching a pod from an exploding planet into space and fixing the ark while space walking. It’s mindblowing. Raven’s (and others’) successes are handed to Clarke on a silver platter and we’re just meant to eat that up and blindly accept that Clarke is our one true saviour. I’m not going into this because it makes me feel sick and Raven deserved better.

Unrelated thoughts:

I don’t see their relationship as friendly at all post-season two. I got the impression Raven actually didn’t like Clarke, but it was all very complicated.

I also think it’s terribly convinient Raven never found out the true nature of Clarke’s relationship with Lexa because I don’t believe she would’ve ever been okay about Clarke again if she had (if the writers were going for realistic).

Madi/Clarke/Abby

Clarke strapped a torture device around her daughter’s neck for means of control and activated it under the guise of protection and that isn’t okay in any world or any context. Madi is a little girl who is dependant on Clarke and Clarke betrayed that trust. Those shock collars were used on her early in the season, she experienced the torture herself and still used it on her child. A lot of Clarke’s more unfavourable and/or unhealthy behaviours and characteristic are also present in Abby, which leads me to believe those are a product of her upbringing. Like mother like daughter, Abby also electrocuted Raven. Abby and Clarke have this strange rival-like relationship and I find it particularly cold, maybe because they’re so similar.

Abby and Raven

Abby has physically harmed Raven more than once. Out of anger and spite, or out of desperation. People hurting each other on this show is pretty standard and while this isn’t as overwhelming a mistreatment compared to others, her hitting Raven while she was acting chancellor was a pretty gross abuse of power. Its a visual display, with Abby’s imposing figure looming over a sitting and emotionally vulnerable Raven. We’re supposed to view this, i think, as mother-daughter. Abby says very early season one that Raven reminds her of Clarke, but she’s never shown treating Clarke in the way she does Raven. I liked the relationship during season one. From then and with Abby’s slow descent into villainy, not so much.

Ontari and Murphy

*She raped him. Next.

Cl//phy

Clarke is a cause/reason, whether direct or indirect, of a huge chunk of Murphy’s suffering, all of which she’s never been held accountable for due to Murphy’s position as undesirable. I, along with Murphy, had to be told she cares about him in season six because her otherwise complete disregard for his life has been pretty apparent.

Notable mention:

Chaining up him and Emori like dogs and promising to sacrifice the woman he loves, against her will, for the greater good after he saved her life. He has to beg her, plead with her and her almighty god complex, and it’s all quite uncomfortable and eery. (She later draws a picture of this event in her sketchbook which is…kinda weird.) And, in true Clarke fashion, she refuses to accept responsibility for this action and hides behind the same old trend of gaslighting and screaming “i had to!!!” I can’t root for a friendship between these two no matter how fun their back-and-forth can be. Especially since I can’t recall a single time they’ve shared a nice moment. Oh, and here’s a post about why Clarke and Murphy will never bond over isolation and survival.

*The clashing of Ontari and Murphy’s personalities was hilarious and I enjoyed watching them on screen together.

[neshabeingchildish]

Share the Details

Shout out to @adorkable-blackgirl for helping me brainstorm with this a little. Even used one of her lines. My @chenoahchantel has had so much going on and I really needed backup, so I had some and I’m thankful for that and all the support and readers that I get. CW for sexual themes in this chapter.

Share-A-Lair 14

Max was honestly stressed out for nothing. He spent all of this time trying to talk his way up to the news, and whenever he actually finally spit it out, Charlotte was relieved and surely didn’t seem any of the things he’d been afraid about. She laughed a little and said, “I honestly thought that you were about to break up with me moments after your mother posted me dancing and tagged me to it on her page.”

“I’d never break up with you,” he said, then, “Wait, what?” He checked his mother’s birthday album for the twins and sure enough, there was a post of Max dancing around Charlotte, who was way more reserved, but so dang cute! Max loved it and almost went through to read all of the comments, but Charlotte cut into that mission.

“It’s just that sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re as deep into this as I am. You just have so many important things to do. By comparison, I’m kind of relegated to something fun on the side,” she said.

He put his phone into his pocket and sat down next to her, “That’s never been the case for me. Mostly, I haven’t wanted to scare you off, because my feelings for you are SO intense that I have to rationalize and reign myself in, like, “Max, this is NOT the way to handle this. But, I don’t have a huge frame of reference, because I haven’t had many serious relationships and this is only the second time that I’ve been in love…” As soon as he said it, they both gasped. But, while this apprehensive expression poured over his face, hers lit up at the same speed and they looked at each other, both became confused and expressions switched to match the other one’s, then again they both realized that they were inadvertently making statements with their faces and they both started laughing at this. They leaned towards each other, laughing and Charlotte reached out to collect him into her arms and moved him to lay back on her chest. 

“I’m in love, too.” She said it very softly and stroked his hair with even more gentleness.

“I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me, just being able to admit that out loud, and hearing you say it too, is like… The perfect birthday present.” She kissed the top of his head and hooked her arms under his. He rested his hands on hers and whispered, “Can I spend the night with you?”

“Of course,” she said and rubbed his chest, one of her legs now comfortably wrapping around him, as well. He sat up and she was momentarily missing his body. 

But, he turned to face her, hands sliding up her party dress as he stared into her eyes, “No… I meant… I want to spend the night with you, Charlotte…” She shifted to allow him better access beneath her dress and nodded her head, unable to break eye contact with him, as intense as it was. Had that been all that he had been waiting for? To be able to say he loved her? To have her say it, as well? She wasn’t sure. But, that didn’t matter. It was go time! He leaned forward and she leaned back. 

“My bed is pretty small,” she whispered. But Max simply extended his hand, and within moments, the spare bed had been slid across the floor, right next to this bed. She smiled. “That was hot.” He just smiled. He loved when she said things like that to him, and he was ready to prove himself to her.

.

Whenever Charlotte came into the “Danger Column,” she was humming joyfully and carrying a ton of stuff with her. “Hey Char, what’s all that stuff?” Jasper wondered.

“Just some things that I got from home over the weekend,” she said. “Sort of officially moving in with Max.” She continued on her way and Jasper squinted his eyes as she set her things on the rolling cart, “I know that they’ll be gone soon, but what we might wind up doing is me living here for however long they’re here, then when it’s time to relocate, I’ll be looking for a place for us outside of Share-A-Lair.” 

Jasper nodded his head, then wondered, “Who’ll be gone soon?”

She laughed a little then looked at his genuinely curious face. “Umm.,, the guys, from this site. Or at least Max, will be. Maybe not Henry, if he hasn’t said anything. He’d certainly tell you before he would anybody else, I’m sure.”

“No. He’d probably tell YOU before anybody else. What do you know, Charlotte?” 

She fumbled her hands around packing the cart and tried to find something that MIGHT distract Jasper from the suggestion that Henry might be leaving and hadn’t said anything to him. It probably was a misunderstanding on her part, so she definitely didn’t want to add to that fuel, But, there were very few things that could distract Jasper from the subject of Henry, and if her moving in with Max wasn’t enough (hell, that only caused more questions), then she was probably about to open her mouth and insert and poorly constructed lie foot. “I know what it feels like to have thunder coursing through my body.”

“Don’t change the subject. Thunder can’t course throughOHMYGODYOUANDMAXFINALLYDID???” And just like that, she had deterred him away from the Henry subject and she texted Hen a warning about it as Jasper had to know everything, “How’s it shaped? Is it as perfect as we imagined through the gray sweatpants? Can you draw me a sketch of it? Better yet… Did you get pix?”

“I… had already seen it before. Calm down there, Bud…”

“Did you sing Happy Birthday to him like Marilyn Monroe? That’s what I would’ve done.”

“I didn’t. Honestly, it was just really slow and sweet and steamy,” she said, nodding.

“Awwww. You went easy on him. You must really be in love!” Jasper gushed.

She smiled hard enough to hurt her face, “I did!... And, I am. It’s really cool. I haven’t been this close to anybody in a while, and even then, it was you know, just… not like this is.  I’ve never had to take things slowly, and I’ve never had to learn to trust or have someone learn to trust me after the emotional connection. I’ve never had to be patient for a guy to be ready for me and I certainly have never had to go easy on somebody. It’s equal parts centering and exciting!”

“Did you at least warn him that you were a raging ball of aggression in the bedroom?” Jasper asked.

“I am NOT!” She said, then giggled a little, “I mean, I haven’t had any complaints!” She gasped, “You think that I’ll frighten him if he gets Take Charge Char?”

“I think Take Charge Char is far more hot than she is scary, but the scary is a good scary. That “roller coaster ride scary,” not “a bear in the woods while you’re camping” scary. But, more about the di-”

“Naw. I gotta get this stuff to my new place!” She said and began rolling the cart out of the tower, with a huge smile on her face.

.

Henry looked at Max approaching and wondered, “Are you late, or am I uncharacteristically early?” 

Max looked at his watch and said, “I’m late…. Wait, why did I look at my watch? OF COURSE, I’m late. Like you’d ever be early.” Henry laughed and rolled his eyes, then heard his phone and checked Charlotte’s text. “Uh uh. Phone away. It’s training time,” Max said, setting his things down. 

“You’re one to talk. You were late today!” Henry said, then groaned at the text message, “Your delightful girlfriend just told Jasper that I might be leaving soon. Why would she do that?” Henry had taken to sarcastically using positive words for Char whenever he was irritated by her, to avoid interference from Max, that he was certain could result in either his own derision or demise. Better safe and sarcastic than sorry.

“Have you not talked to Jasper about possibly leaving here?” Max wondered, stretching.

Henry put his phone into his bag and said, “I’ve brought it up a few times that I was probably gonna go on some far off missions with you, but I think that he’s not hearing that I might be leaving soon.”

“Are you SAYING that you might be leaving soon to him?” Max asked.

“Did you SAY it before you told Char over the weekend?” Henry asked right back. 

“Are you and Jasper in the same situation and Char and I?” Max wondered.

“No, but… you can’t be pot kettling or whatever.”

“Different situations, Dude,” Max said. “I wanna marry Charlotte someday, but as it stands, she’s technically not my best friend. I mean… That’s a goal, definitely, but it isn’t our reality. You and Jasper have been together your entire lives and he follows you everywhere. Not telling him that somewhere may be another country is a little different from me having anxiety about admitting to a short term girlfriend the same thing… He is gonna come with you, right?”

Henry shrugged his shoulders, “I kinda want him to figure out his own thing. I’ve been doing some soul searching and I realize that while I’ve been putting everybody else first and working on saving other people, Jasper’s been doing the same thing, but for me.”

They continued stretching and Max commented, “Maybe that’s what he wants to do.”

“Maybe. But, I’ll feel better if he has some time to look inside and really determine that, you know? Would you want Charlotte to just pack up and leave and come along with us to Russia?”

“Yes. But, yet again - not the same situation.” 

Henry sighed, annoyed and commented, “I am so ready to swing punches at your face now.”

“I am ready to watch you fail to land them.”

.

“Okay. I am ready to do THAT for the rest of my life,” Max said. Charlotte simply laughed. It was nice, but she was certainly sore. She hadn’t had to work her thigh muscles like that before, or at least in a while. She forgot about all of the “additional” that came along with this. It didn’t matter, though. Max was here with her, and he wanted her, and he wanted this. She had no complaints.

He laid in Charlotte’s arms, ready to forsake Russia, the T Force, the Hero League, anything else that dared to come between him and this feeling that he had right now, in this very moment, wrapped up in her, bodies connected, spirits aligned. 

“Whether it’s 3 months or 6, I want to be with you, okay?” She whispered. 

He nodded. Of course. He wanted to throw a ring on her and pop a baby in her, but that was a bit much for right now, so he just said, “You could move into the lair, if you want. That might give us a little more time together before the changes happen.”

“Wouldn’t you have to run that by Share-A-Lair?” She wondered.

“Running it by them for me includes sending them a message that it’s happening.”

“Oh, so you got it like that, huh?”

“I’m the man.” He kissed her fingertips and asked, “Do you not want to?”

She smiled, “I think that’d be cool. I mean, it’s only for a few months, then you’re off to Russia, so it isn’t like there’s a danger of us growing sick of each other. Besides, I practically live there now and gas to and from for when I’ve gotta come back here is pretty pricey.”

“You think that we’ll grow sick of each other when we’re around each other more?” he wondered. “I can’t imagine ever being sick of you. I imagine you being the main thing that makes me feel well in a very sick world where I have to battle sick people.” She just smiled. He was strumming her skin lovingly with his fingertips and seemed like he had a lot going through his mind.

“Will we be able to visit each other at all? When you’re in Russia?” She asked.

“It’s not final that I’ll be in Russia… but, I will have a lair, hidden beneath the property of my secret identity. If you want, you can certainly visit me, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave during the tour.”

“Cool. I’ve never really thought about Russia, but I’m going to look into it. Add it as a place for me to be able to visit a time or two in the next few years… You are only gonna be gone for a few years, right?”

“Three,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ve done this long distance thing for longer before. We’ve got this.” 

He looked at her and gave her a kiss. “Can we…”

“Again?”

“If it isn’t asking too much…”

“It’s not!” She smiled. “Come here…”

.

Each day, Charlotte came in a little less chipper and a little more sore looking. Jasper smirked every time, until one day, maybe about a week later, he straight up asked, “You can’t handle the D, can you?”

She let out a relieved sigh and a chain of word vomit, “Dude, I can’t even get to the point where I’m at my usual performance level with Max, because whenever we get down to it, his physical superiority and stamina outrun my experience and prowess. What does it matter if you can do fun little tricks, if after a few minutes, you’re ready to pass out, just as he’s getting warmed up? He is a leading world  superhero, with nearly perfect health, and impeccable bodily preoccupation! He can do some GLORIOUS shit with body. I mean, leave you speechless tier. And... I can handle about 10 minutes of him, then I’m just there because if I move, I might collapse. I have GOT to add cardio to my daily schedule!” 

Jasper nodded his head, cordially the entire time she was speaking, but as soon as she stopped, he simply asked, “Okay, but how big is it?” She stared at him for a moment before walking away. “Bigger than Henry’s? Surely.” He gasped, “Is it bigger than mine? Are there other personality traits to it? Like a curve or a slightly fatter top? OH! He’s... cut, isn’t he? You know what, you should see if he’ll let you take a photo of it, so we can research.”

“Jasper!” She finally shrieked. “Shut. Up.”

“Right. You’re having a crisis. Here’s a solution! You let him take control until you get your own physicality up. Those are essentially pleasure filled workouts. He’ll like being in charge all the time, at least for a while, then whenever it seems like it’s boring and dull, POW! You’ll hit him with your modulation. He’ll be like... WHAT? There was a higher pleasure setting? Huh?? And you can stay on that level until you gain more endurance, and then, guess what? POW! Another modulation on him.” Jasper shook his head, “But, that’s probably not gonna work.”

“No, no... That’s... I can work with that. My legs haven’t burned this much since I started marathon training in junior high!”

“I forgot that you used to do that!” Jasper said.

“So did my thighs.” 

He laughed and said, “RIP Charlotte’s hamstrings.”

“Rude!” she snapped. They looked at each other, “But, accurate.” He laughed again and she tried not to, because it wasn’t funny and she didn’t want to encourage him. But, in spite of herself, she had to laugh a little. 

She definitely regretted it when a moment later, Jasper slid a pencil and a piece of paper to her and said, “What if you just sketch it for me? As true to life as possible, please?” 

She gave him a small, tight smile, picked up the pencil and said, “Imagine for a moment that this was one...” Then, she snapped it in half with her thumb and threw it down on the table. Jasper gasped as she got up and walked over to her work area in the lab.

“He... He has a pencil one?” He wondered, in horror. She just left it alone. Maybe if he thought that, he’d give it a rest! “I’ve been sweatfished!” He whined. That sounds disgusting.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Young Wolf, pt. 8 (Twilight AU)

Summary: Knowing the danger they’ll face, Shawn and Y/N prepare for the Volturi to arrive...just not how Shawn imagined they would.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst, fluff

Word count: ~ 2.1k

Young Wolf - Series Masterlist (Twilight AU)

Y/N couldn’t tell if the room turned so quiet or had her senses been numbed with the news Eleazar gave her. If she were human, her poor heart would be running an arrhythmia as her mind raced toward an electrical storm of anxiety induced panic attacks. But she isn’t human, which is exactly why she’s in this position.

Just as her emotions grow to be overwhelming, a soothing wave of calmness washes over her and pulls her back from the very dangerous ledge she found herself hanging from. When a human loses control, they drink themselves to oblivious or hook up with random strangers, even start a fight. When a vampire loses control, they slaughter entire cities before they’re stopped.

That’s why Y/N sent a thankful smile in Jasper’s direction, one he received with a curt nod. Jasper has certainly been helpful with her transformation and although she’d usually complain about his influence on her mood and hunger, today she appreciated it.

“But I can’t even do anything.” She frowns deeply, thinking her forehead must be creased with horizontal waves that showed just how worried she is, but when she tilts her head up to meet Shawn’s eyes, seeing her own reflection in them, she’s almost disappointed her forehead is perfectly smooth, unaffected.

Shawn leans in, brushing his lips against the cool surface of her forehead, turning his cheek to rest there for comfort just as his arms around her tighten and push her so close to him that it’s hard to tell where he ends and Y/N begins.

“That will change, little vampire.” Eleazar assures her, the amazement in his eyes never quite dissolving. If possible, Y/N could have sworn it grew.

“To have the ability to talk and manipulate any animal, bending them to your will…The potential your power holds is infinite. You could rule the world and I don’t mean the supernatural aspect of the world we live in, but THE world. All you need is proper motivation.” Eleazar draws out the last bit, enthralled with his own vision of what Y/N’s future could be and that’s when it dawn on Shawn just what he meant when he said the Volturi would be dangerous to his imprint’s well being.

They could influence her to leave the Cullens and him in return for their protection, but work with them to achieve this ungodly plan Eleazar concocted. She could be killed for her power instantly, so they would be certain she can’t overthrow them once she’s in control of herself.

Neither option benefited them.

“That’s enough Eleazar.” Carlisle interrupts, seeing Shawn and Y/N huddled up in fear and agony of what’s to come. In his mind, Y/N is his child, his family and he’d die before something happens to her. In fact, he just might in a day’s time.

“Don’t worry, young wolf. Your fate is tied to the girl in your arms. Should she die, you will too. Should she become Queen, you’ll be her King. Either way, you won’t be apart for long.” Eleazar smirks, stepping back by his mate’s side. He didn’t hide his curious gaze, but the distance between them helped Shawn breathe again.

“So what now?” Rosalie stands, her lips pressed together and her eyes burning with rage. She’s angry, Y/N can tell. But she’s no longer angry at her for sleeping with Shawn and accepting him as a soulmate, rather with the world and the silence in the room. Everyone seems to be lost in their own worrisome thoughts, no one daring to speak a sound.

“Well?!” Rosalie raises her voice enough to get everyone’s attention, but no one can truly say they have a plan. Y/N hides her face in Shawn’s chest, listening to his very frantic heartbeat as her emotions begin to rise and push against Jasper’s effect.

“If she runs, they’ll assume she wants to do just what Eleazar said.” Carlisle points out, sighing in resignation.

“If she stays, they might want her to join them. They might see her as a threat.” Jacob adds, looking to his pack member and brother with compassion and a silent promise to be his imprint’s defender. If anyone, Jacob knows what it means to have your imprint threatened by Volturi leadership. He’d fight for Shawn to never feel the agony he almost felt.

“And kill her for it.” Jasper finishes.

Y/N places her hands on Shawn’s chest, gently pushing herself away from him. She didn’t want to leave his embrace, much less see the hurt flash in his eyes as she did so, but she had to. Standing on her own, stepping away from her warm moonlight lover, Y/N approached Alice who sat beside Jasper with her hands folded in her lap.

“What do you see Alice?” Y/N asked her quietly, afraid of what the answer may be. She shivered, bending down as Alice refused or couldn’t meet her eyes. At face level, her hands resting on Alice’s knees, Y/N spoke.

“Please.”

Alice blinked, her lips parting ever so slightly. Her amber eyes flickered to Shawn and back to Y/N, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I can’t see anything. It’s like the future doesn’t exist.”

Y/N stands abruptly, shaking her head.

“How is that possible?” Bella questions, asking what everyone’s thinking. After her last brush with the Volturi, Bella didn’t look forward to seeing them again.

“It just is. No visions, nothing…Just dark.” Alice spoke as if in shock, her eyes fixating somewhere in the distance, looking through everyone.

“So…we all die?” Shawn’s tone is higher than usual, showcasing his worry for all to see. He didn’t mean to let his emotions show, but when it’s about Y/N, he can’t help it.

Selfishly, he wants more time. He finally found his soulmate and he wasn’t ready to accept the fact he had no time to be with her. He envisioned his entire life with her, a small infinity of their own to explore the world and love one another until there was nothing left. Until civilizations rise and fall, until the Sun is no more. That was his plan. He can’t just let it go.

“I don’t know.” Alice breaths out, her eyebrows furrowing once more as her lips press together in a thin line of frustration. It’s the first time she didn’t have an answer to any questions asked.

“Shawn.” Y/N only speaks his name before moving outside and away from all the tension. Shawn doesn’t hesitate to follow after her, like gravity itself is calling on his feet to move. He could feel she wanted to be alone, but his heart couldn’t stop the flutter that came with the realization that she wanted to be alone WITH HIM.

The moment he steps outside, he finds her already gone. Smiling to himself, Shawn quickly shifts and follows her scent to wherever she goes. He doesn’t mind her taking control, especially now when she’s in a situation where she can’t obtain any control over what happens. If that helps her even in the slightest bit, Shawn would let go of the reigns and relinquish any power he has.

All for her.

Always for her.

Shawn’s seeing in tunnel vision, only looking at the trail that leads to her. He fails to notice the beauty in nature as his paws pick up space, not admiring the newly discovered colors as all he cares is catching up and seeing her once more. Even a minute without her is time wasted, especially if all you have left is time measured in minutes.

He’s surprised to find her at a cliff, one overlooking waterfalls and a chasm he’d die if he fell to it. While she’s almost indestructible, he’s anything but and yet the collateral beauty in their difference is why their love holds so much worth in comparison to what he envision for himself in the past. He doesn’t have to worry about her being injured or dying in a freak accident as he’d be if she were human, but his worries have surpassed the trivial and landed in a category of its own. Ancient vampire society…not something he thought would be his main concern for the future. Alas, we don’t always get what we want.

Shifting back to his human form, Shawn looks around for a familiar tree with a stash of clothes to wear. Only to realize there isn’t one. This is so far into the Cullen’s territory, far pass anything he’d seen by now. Bare as the day he came into the world, he sits on a large rock, happy it’s a flat surface and hopes his downstairs area will be unaffected. He’d stand beside her, but he didn’t want her to think he’s a weirdo for being naked while she’s fully dressed. He didn’t want her to think he’s pressuring her for something in a situations they’ve been pushed into. He didn’t want her to have any reason to question him at all.

Turning on her heel, Y/N cocked an eyebrow as her eyes slowly traveled down his body, taking him in entirely. She looked at every inch of skin like it’s the silkiest, most beautiful fabric she had ever seen. Her gaze stilled on every round muscle, every hair that decorated his toned body. Her lips parted at the scar in his lower, right abdomen, one that signified he could get hurt and his skin can be easily scarred. It reminded her he could be taken from her at any given moment, bringing forth an aching pain in her chest.

Shawn cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting so his privates are concealed from view out of respect, mostly because he was sure she’d notice he was already throbbing for her. His animalistic side would love to have his way with her, probably going for round two by now, but his human side knew she deserved respect and a choice, most of all a moment to collect herself.

“Still shy after last night, huh?” Y/N teases. Corners of her lips curl upwards, tugging her lips until the spread into a smile, one genuine and loving, disarming for Shawn.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Shawn plants his palms behind him, leaning into them as his legs spread casually, giving Y/N a pretty big view to take in. She casually glances at him, only to shake her head and giggle.

“I was talking about your blushing cheeks, not your dick, but I’m not complaining.” Shawn’s eyes widen as his confidence crumbles, but she’s by his side in a blink of an eye. Tips of her fingers trail delicately along his thigh, making Shawn close his eyes and his head fall back.

“Easy there wolfy. Not going there just yet.” She breaks the moment he hoped would lead to pleasurable ecstasy she gave him the night before, but he fails to let her know. Instead, he smiles at her, sitting properly once more, his hand enveloping hers.

“I won’t let anything happen to you tomorrow, you know that. Don’t you?” Unlike his usually cocky persona, the Shawn sitting in front of her is shaky and scared, but for all the wrong reasons in her head. She knew he was scared for her, instead of taking care of himself. He’s the fragile one in their relationship and it unnerved her how casual he is about his own safety. She couldn’t understand why he believed that she’d be able to continue her life without him by his side if he sacrificed himself for her. She needed him just as much as he needed her and for that reason alone, she decided to channel whatever power she holds within and use it if it becomes necessary.

One night to find that flicker of hope inside her and help it turn into flames that will devour the Volturi. If they try to attack and destroy what she holds dear, she’ll make sure they go down with them.

She always had a stubborn defiance most considered a fatal flaw, but it had become her greatest virtue. Closing her eyes, Y/N concentrated with all her might on a call she knew might not work. She focused on the task, ignoring Shawn’s attempt to talk and his touched and tugs, knowing she had to try. If she didn’t, all she’d get in return is dead bodies of people she loves. Shawn’s body on the pile as well.

And it’s when she hears a growl and Shawn muttering ‘fuck’ under his breath. Opening her eyes, she sees the majestic cougar she had envisioned, circling menacingly. Instead of being afraid, Y/N smiles, bending down to face level with Shawn. Her right hand grabs the back of his neck and her other rests on his face.

“I am not going to let anything happen to YOU.” She uses his own promise, watching the cougar leave them be.

“How about we take advantage of your current look?” Y/N kinks her eyebrow, indicating her desire for him as she licks her lips and without any further explanation connects her lips with his.

In her mind, she had the proper motivation Eleazar spoke of.

She had her Young Wolf.

Tags: @accalialionheart @ourlittleshawnie @esoltis280 @ashwarren32 @justanothershawngirl  @dragonqveendany  @harleyscheekheart  @mendes-vuitton  @ilovejackavery  @keithseabrook27 @hermit-with-friendz @iamburdened  @heyits-claire @selenesybill

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if Bella and Renata changed places in the story? What would change?

... You sure you want me to answer that?

This, my friend, is the path to the heart of darkness.

First, for my sanity’s sake, when you say switch places I’m assuming that things like genetics/gifts are staying intact.

This is a meta to be written, but at least on some level, while gifts are informed by genetics they also are informed by what you need. Jane and Alec point to this as well as surviving vampires whose gifts were curiously helpful. Of course, there’s something to be said that perhaps this is survivor bias. The ones with helpful gifts survive because Afton was murdered. And there’s something to be said for that, and I do think that comes into play, but in a different meta.

RIGHT

What Happens to Bella

Bella is molested if not raped by her Uncle Luca.

Bella is groomed from... some point that’s worryingly early in her life, to be turned into a vampire when she’s an adult. Given Renata’s story and her gift, given Makenna’s centuries later, it’s highly likely that Uncle Luca rather than making a fellow “protector” of the family is taking tithes in the form of daughters to become his brides for a time.

And when I say highly likely I mean I can think of no other explanation where everything in the backstory lines up so neatly.

Renata’s saved from rape and molestation thanks to her gift. Bella’s gift is extremely powerful and versatile as well, however, while it does change to suit her needs it seems to rely heavily on precognition and mental protection. In canon, having Renata’s abilities would have made Bella untouchable by James, Victoria, and Laurent. Instead, she gets warnings through Hallucination Edward and precognitive dreams or else is able to shield herself entirely mentally.

As a result, I imagine Bella would have terrifying prophetic dreams growing up, in which Uncle Luca, the patron saint of the family that no one has ever seen, turns out to be a flesh eating demon who rapes her. She might even have a Hallucination Edward equivalent who tells her to GET THE FUCK OUT.

Bella is reassured by her entire family that everything is fine, Luca’s the family protector and certainly not a demon, and that Bella joining him when she turns 20 will be a wonderful thing.

As a result, Bella probably grows up a neurotic mess, probably just as isolated if not more so than she was in canon.

And then it’s too late.

As Luca’s pulling the same stunt he did in canon, I imagine the Volturi eventually show up. Bella is offered the same out she was in canon and, like Renata, I imagine she takes it desperately.

Only, given everything, she likely doesn’t have the same attachment to the family that Renata did. I imagine as a survivor of sexual assault who was sold off by her family, however unwillingly they did so or however much they were hoodwinked, that she wouldn’t know what to think of them. Not for a very long time, anyway. So, I imagine in this universe, Uncle Luca and all the humans who knew of him die. 

Renata not existing, Bella is taken on as a bodyguard, and is a pretty good deal. She’s not Renata, who is the best bodyguard anyone could wish for, but she shields well from mental attacks and they can have someone like Felix be the muscle where appropriate. In this world, Aro probably actually would have some eventual use for Alice, as she could support Bella in predicting any direct attacks on at least the Volturi coven (Aro, Caius, Marcus, and the wives).

Bella is a mess for a very very very long time. While I like to think eventually she’ll recover, I can’t tell you what this would be. I think Bella would be extremely hesitant to ever take a lover or get married, and would instead devote herself to Aro’s protection with at least Renata’s zeal if not more so.

What Happens to Renata

For the sake of my sanity, to truly put Renata in Bella’s place, I’m imagining she’s Edward’s singer. You’re not living the Bella experience if you don’t have to deal with Edward.

Renata, in 2005 for reasons unknown, moves to Forks to live with her estranged father Charlie. 

Renata attends Biology that first day of school where she’s very nearly eaten by Edward. Only, instead of Edward not being able to read her mind, he finds himself unable to get close to her. He can’t sit at her table, her gift sends him wandering in a drunken daze across the room and into the wall.

Edward is very confused, utterly humiliated, but he has no idea what’s happened. Part of Renata’s gift is that you don’t realize you’ve been deflected. You just suddenly find yourself not having approached Renata like you expected.

Edward probably tries to return to his seat, holding his breath, and thinking of Carlisle’s beautiful face (he seriously does this in canon). However, he’s unable to that time either, and this time Renata probably pushes him out of the room entirely.

Edward congratulates himself for unconsciously resisting temptation in the classroom (which would have been very bad and required his brutal murder of all the witnesses).

He’ll eat her after school.

Much like canon, Edward upon leaving school is probably able to clear his head enough to realize he does not have to eat Renata Swan. So he flees the state, lives with the Denali for the two days it takes to get sick of them, and comes back.

And here’s where things get... bad.

Presumably, Renata does not struggle with depression the way Bella does. Terrible things happened to her in canon, and it’s true we know very little about her, but for all she shadows Aro she doesn’t seem to give off those same depressed vibes Bella does.

Renata also, presumably, does not have the weird genetic quirk Bella does where she finds vampires a) not terrifying at all b) omg hawt.

Most people in canon, when they look at a vampire, see something that’s hauntingly beautiful but also wrong. Vampires are fucking scary looking. Even at their gentlest, they do not look right. Bella’s just... into that.

So, unlike canon, the second Biology class Renata looks at Edward in complete terror and Edward can read every thought through Renata’s mind that he tried to eat her. Edward has a complete existential crisis over this as Renata was witness to his most demonic side that he loathes.

Edward will never be with Renata the way he was with Bella because of this. Part of what appeals to him about Bella is that he can a) project a persona of his choosing onto her while thinking he knows her well b) she’s this angelic creature who sees the best in demons. Renata sees demons and sees demons.

Biology is awkward and terrible, Renata probably desperately thinks about switching seats, but doesn’t want anyone to sit next to Edward the demon. 

Then the truck happens.

Much like Bella, Edward saves Renata’s life (and I headcanon that Renata’s gift actually allows for this due to the imminent danger coming from a truck rather than a person). Only, this time, there’s no excuse that he was secretly doing it for love, he’s doing it for that sweet sweet blood.

Renata is taken to the hospital, she’s seen everything, and Edward can see every thought in her head where she absolutely knows Edward Cullen is not a human being.

The family has their vote, only this time, it goes differently.

Renata would never let Alice play Barbie Bella, and thus, Alice does not see Renata as her future best friend forever. Nor does she see Renata becoming Edward’s future lover and mate.

However, Alice still votes no, because it’s not going to work. None of them are going to be able to murder Renata.

Edward is conflicted and votes no, but doesn’t have the reassurance that it’s because he’s in love, it’s secretly because he wants to eat her. He’s not admitting that to himself yet.

As in canon, Carlisle tries to think well of his ridiculous family, and tells Rosalie, “No, Rosalie, killing a teenage girl because you don’t want to move high schools is bad.”

Jasper thinks carefully about this, and tries to devise different schemes to kill Renata and gauge Alice’s opinion. Unlike in canon, he’s not given the two certain futures: Edward will eat Bella or Edward will turn Bella.

Jasper eventually decides to lace Renata’s house with explosives and, when she’s home (preferably if she’s alone but he’s alright with Charlie Swan as collateral damage) blow the place up from a distance.

Alice saw this succeeding, unfortunately, Edward and Emmett make a few decisions.

Jasper is blowing up a motherfucking house. The police chief’s house no less. This is the coolest thing the family has ever done. That Rosalie approves, while not saying as much out loud due to her abiding by Carlisle’s decision, makes this even better. Emmett wants involved, desperately, Jasper gives him some small task that he fucks up.

The wiring is done incorrectly, the bomb will never detonate.

Edward is now in full protector of the women and children (and blood bags) mode and plans to counter Jasper’s attack and confronts him and Emmett. They have the all out brawl that Alice saw in canon.

Renata wakes up in the middle of the night to find the family of demons fist fighting each other outside her house, having wired her house to explode. They have now gone past the point of no return, in a sense, where in canon Bella had had a car accident and would in time remember this as a very strange incident in her life, now the vampires have tried to blow up her house.

I imagine things continue to escalate as the witness now really has to be murdered. They fail every time, Renata lives in a paranoid hell where she can’t tell anyone that every night demons come to murder her in her bedroom.

Carlisle is appalled by everyone and eventually tells Renata the truth and offers her immortality.

[sadbean18]

Your Wolf (Part 4)

Sam Uley x reader

Part One     Part Two     Part Three

Summary: Well Sam imprinted on one of Leah’s friends and then he finds out that she is going on a date with Emmett. This is the date. Kinda a filler but it isn’t too terrible. 

Hey If you guys like this story please send me a message or comment. I am feeling lack of motivation to do anything. 

Chapter 4

(Y/N)’s POV

I arrived at my house a little faster than usual. My mind had been racing and honestly I didn’t really know what to do. Sam had seemed so… genuine? Upset? I don’t know. It was clear he doesn’t want me to go on a date. But honestly, since when has Sam freaking Uley cared about what I did. God. It makes my stomach drop at the thought of him pleading with me. But I can't focus on that. I have a date, with a single, sweet guy, who likes me.

I pulled up to my house to see Emmett sitting on my porch steps. He looked great...better than great actually. He was wearing black slacks, a white button up with a black jacket. It fit im wonderfully. His pale skin sticking out against the dark colors. I could have drooled with house nice he looks. He looked up at me and smiled. I stepped out of the car and his smile grew impossibly larger.

“You look absolutely stunning” he said as he grabbed my hand in his. His hand was freezing, but I couldn’t focus on that when his eyes were devouring me.

“You don’t look to bad yourself” I replied with a laugh, trying to distract him from burning a hole through my with his gaze. It seemed to do the trick, since he walked me to his car and opened my door allowing me to get in before he shut it and got in himself.

We chatted in the car a little before I figured I should explain my tardiness.

‘Sorry for being late, it was totally by accident” I explained, “I went over to Seth’s and ran into Sam Uley.. do you know him? Well he was acting like I was going out to personally piss him off. I figure Leah is giving him an earful about his behavior.I sure as hell would have had I not been running late already”

He glanced at me with a strange look. He was either worried or confused, maybe both. He didn’t answer though, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. Thankfully, the awkward silence didn’t last too long as he pulled into a rather fancy looking restaurant. Like before, he got out and opened my door for me. What a damn gentleman I thought.

We walked in, and as we were being seated, people would not stop staring. I was sure the look were meant for him, but he placed his had on my hip and flexed his fingers occasionally. It was very possessive. It was hot as hell and my mouth went dry. It made my heart beat a little faster. It had been a while since anyone had their hands on me, sexual or not.

Dinner had gone great. We were both slightly awkward at first. We talked about school and homework, but then we started talking about our hobbies and interests. Emmett is a lot smarter then he lets people believe. He is well versed in literature and culture. However, his intelligence did not stop him from making such corny jokes all night.

“Why can’t ghosts have babies?” hed asked with this goofy grin on his face.

“I don't know Emmett, why can’t ghosts have babies?”

“They have hollow-weenies.” I was a little ashamed at how funny I found it. I laughed so hard that my drink came out of my nose while laughing.

Most of the time until our food came was him teasing me about it. Then our food came and I noticed he had only taken a few small bites.

“Sorry love, I just prefer to eat leftovers. It's no big deal, eat as much as you’d like.” he’d said when I asked if he wasn't hungry. It was making me a little nervous to be the only one eating. But he just kept talking like it was so common.

He’d paid the bill and asked if I would like to go on a walk. I was having a great time, so why not I thought. He asked if I was able to walk in my heels. I laughed and told him id manage. We walked about the park, still hand in hand and it was turning out to be a great date.

-

However, our date didn’t end on a great note. He drove me home and walked me to the porch no problem.

“I had a great time Em, even if soda came out of my nose” I said and he laughed this hearty laugh.

“I also had a wonderful time,.” he said as he slid a strand of hair behind my ear. He grabbed my chin, lifting it towards him with one hand and the other was placed on my hip to draw me closer. I could hear my pulse in my ears and I hoped he couldn’t hear it too. I watched as his lips got closer to mine and my eyes shut lightly.

His lips were soft but they felt wrong against my own. It's not that the kiss was bad, it was wonderful actually, sweet and thorough, but it was like I wasn’t meant to kiss him. Things were just a little off. There was no heat or physical connection. But I didn’t get the chance to explore the kiss because one second we are kissing, and the next Sam fucking Uley was pulling him off of me and punching Emmett in the face.

NOTE: Thank you guys for reading. I will try to update more often. I am just trying to get a job and dealing with college drama and life drama. I might post a reader jasper fic soon. Let me know if you would be interested in that. Thank you my lovelies

[mysamcedesmadness]

So, Are We Gonna Discuss This, Or…?

Charlotte and her pros and cons! She wished that she could be more impulsive, but that never hurt her before… Well… maybe. She was quite frigid in many ways and it meant a lot to her that her closest friends didn't care. But she and Henry were getting pretty close and serious. They were going into their last year of high school. They might not see much of each other beyond that and the girls around him were getting bolder and fresher all the time. Charlotte estimated that it was probably time for "the talk."

And how does one, Charlotte Page, go about having the talk? Well, she certainly wasn't going to just say "We need to talk about this." She could have and maybe should have, but that seemed to her to leave too much room for confusion. How could she possibly talk about something that she was only vaguely familiar with?

Charlotte prepared a Lincoln Douglas Debate to decide), researched STDs & STIs, sexual health risks vs benefits of sex, and high school relationship sustainability and success before and after sex before she even breached the subject with Henry. By the time she finished, she knew what she wanted to do. She was ready, but Henry had to be ready to. She had to be confident that he knew what she knew and they had to talk about it.

Breaching the subject sounded a lot like nervous energy in human form. "I've prepared a debate for you to feast your eyes upon.." she said, then awkwardly thought about how that was the nerdiest presentation she had ever made.

"No thanks," Henry said and handed the paper printout with various sticky notes and edits back to her. She flipped it to the front page, which was a bright yellow cover with bold black letters that read “SEX”, and much smaller subprint, “So, Are We Gonna Discuss This, Or…?” But, Henry only saw the largest word on the paper, and he snatched it from her and shoved it into his shirt. "What're you doing? Someone could've seen that!" He looked around the man cave for their friends, but Ray and Schwoz were in the middle of something and Jasper was down in the store.

“Someone needs to see it. You.” She handed him green sticky notes and finished with, “Any notes or questions you have, use these. I don’t want the version in our shared documents to get cluttered and you miss out on information, like you’ve been known to do.”

He scoffed a few times as he placed the notes in his pocket and she went to the control panel. Where on Earth would he keep this thing, in the meantime? He rolled it up, put it in his back pocket, and checked on it with extreme paranoia the entire time he was there. Later on, whenever he was at home, the first thing that he did was make the time to read it. He lit some candles scented to help with concentration, made sure the lighting in the room was efficient, washed up, got into comfortable clothes and made himself comfortable - suggestions that Charlotte had given him for when he had to read a lot (because he honestly hated reading, most of the time) - and he settled with the document, the sticky notes and his pencil.

There were a lot of facts in this thing and there was a lot of science. There were risks that he didn’t consider. There was social pressure that he had not thought about (regarding her). There was… A lot to stop and think about. By the time he finished, he knew what he wanted to do. He was not ready. They had to wait. There was going to be some deep thoughts about all of this fresh information.

He was no longer as sure as his body usually was when they were alone together. Reading her research, eloquently presented as an argument for and against it, he just wasn’t sure if he measured up enough to put her in that position and to take on that type of responsibility.

Charlotte was sad to hear that, but respected his wishes and was relieved that these weren’t issues that he thought about after making that decision. They could wait. It wasn’t like she was frothing or anything. But honestly, if not Henry, what kind of person might she wind up with? Her research came across some horror stories of people who went to college, relationships fell apart and they wound up losing their virginity in some regrettable act of deviance and independence. She wanted it to be safe and comfortable with somebody that she loved and trusted. And she was Charlotte Page for crying out loud. Let’s be real… It could take another lifetime for “somebody that she loved and trusted” to come along. Maybe, he just needed a little bit of time… to realize that she was most likely the greatest good that he was gonna get.  She chuckled to herself as she had this thought.

The three of them had a sleepover at Henry’s the weekend of Jasper’s birthday. Jasper noticed that they were behaving oddly. For one thing, Henry wasn’t uncontrollably and reflexively touching Charlotte every single chance that he got and hardly whispering inside jokes into her ear. Charlotte… Well, she seemed the same as always. So, Jasper had to presume that whatever the issue was, it was something with Henry. When it was semi-late, Charlotte announced, “I’m going to go to sleep.” She got up, gathered her sleeping bag and headed upstairs.

“Goodnight, Charlotte!” Jasper said. She nodded her head and pointed at him, then glanced sadly at Henry and went upstairs. “Soooo… Did you two break up?”

“What? No. We just… Haven’t really been intimate lately.”

“Why not? I thought you two were really serious. What happened?”

Henry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We talked about… You know… Doing the dance…"

"Which one? Like an Internet challenge?"

Henry groaned and whispered it into Jasper's ear. "YOU DID???"

"We only talked about it!" Henry shrugged his shoulders and had to admit, "I didn't know the first thing about doing, well, any of it. I ran over all the information she gave me, and I guess I just felt inadequate. I feel like not only do I not know enough, but if something were to happen… I would mess it all up. I never really thought about it before. I only knew that I wanted it and wanted her. But, if I'm just gonna be unskilled and unknowledgeable, what's the point? She'll judge me, and we both know it."

"How can she judge you when she only knows stuff about it in theory, herself?" Henry shrugged his shoulders. "What did she say to you?"

"That I'm her best friend, she loves me and whatever the emotional risks are, she's brave enough to face, because it's a journey with me."

"That sounds like somebody who wouldn't judge you."

"I don't want her to have to face emotional risks. Like what happens when she's away at college and I'm Kid Danger full time? Or when we've been together for so long that we never realized that we were never meant to be this, it was just convenient?"

"So… You're scared of the emotional risks."

"No! I'm not scared…" he bit his lip and sighed, "I'm terrified. What if I love her more and she gets me out of her system? I mean… I have to believe that a huge portion of her interest is physical attraction and curiosity."

"I don't feel like you're giving Charlotte much credit and that's not fair. She said herself that she loves you. As just her friend you should believe her. And the fact that Charlotte doesn't talk like that, you really should feel honored. Besides, if you don't do it, someone else will as soon as they get permission. So, you'll regret it forever if you don't take the opportunity. When she's gone off to college and comes back with some kinda sexy scientist, you'll kick yourself, and you'll probably try to kick him too. But, she's giving you first dibs and you turn her down? I don't understand that at all."

"I don't want first dibs I want only dibs."

"For now, you've got "only dibs," but I can't imagine she'd wait forever for you."

So, Henry had more to think about. At some point, in the middle of the night, he left Jasper alone on the couch to go cuddle up with Charlotte again. He'd been avoiding too much contact with her since their discussion and now he not only missed her like crazy, but Jasper's advice frightened him into thinking he might lose her if he didn't get it together and grow up.

Charlotte was fast asleep, in her sleeping bag, near the window. Probably thought Henry would want his bed to himself… "Hey, Char?"

"Hmmm?"

"Hey, let's get in bed, okay, Babe?"

She sat up and looked at him, slightly angry for waking her up, but he picked her up and laid her in the bed. She rolled over, muttering but was back to sleep before he could even wrap himself around her body.

.

Jasper's basement birthday party was very much so an upgrade from the last time he'd done it. Full of soon to be seniors and a few graduates that he knew, plus Ray and Schwoz. Ray couldn't believe that he had willingly come here, but he heard that there would be fiesta sized churros and he felt like he deserved that.

Several minutes into his fourth chunk o' churro, he looked over at "the kids," because he heard Charlotte laugh kinda loud, and…

Well, she was sitting on top of a bench, Henry was leaning against it, but he was rested right in between her legs… facing her.

Ray was going to comment on it but, Henry turn to face Jasper and talk so he let it go. But, Henry was right there, for most of the day. Eventually, he moved to go to the bathroom. Charlotte got up for ice cream and churro. Whenever he returned, she sat in his lap, with his arms around her as she finished dessert, then when she was done, she was seated between his legs. They were just carrying on a conversation like that!! He had to find Schwoz!

"Charlotte is publicly allowing Henry to be rested between her legs and vice versa!" Schwoz looked like he had no idea what that was supposed to mean. "Intimate Cuddling IN FRONT OF ONLOOKERS??? Charlotte, Schwoz. This is Charlotte!"

Schwoz rolled his eyes and walked away saying, "Call me when you've got something juicy."

Ray realized that they must have done the deed and tried to get a confession out of Henry. Henry was annoyed by all of the questions such as, "Are you and Charlotte closer than ever before? Might one day that the two of you have become one?" This went on for a while before Charlotte announced that she had to go and Henry, as though that was some kind of dog whistle, cut off Ray mid sentence to rush to her so that they could leave together.

"Before you go, I'll need you to take another oath."

"What, here? At this party?"

"You need to immediately promise me that Kid Danger comes first, no matter what's in your mind, your eyesight, and…" he whispered, "your pants."

"Alright, I'm not saying any of that. See you later. Gotta go. Char's parents are gone and we're gonna have a Flick & Chill night."

"You'd better be chilling fully clothed!"

Henry's face told that was not in his plans, but he gave Ray a thumbs up anyway. "At least be safe," Ray said quietly.

"Dude..  I'm with Charlotte. I'm the safest man in Swellview."

Even though he knew that Henry meant because Charlotte was always efficient and thorough, Ray wanted to crack a joke about it being because nobody else in Swellview had ever, or ever would, get that close to Charlotte; but as the two of them took off up the stairs, hand in hand, he had nothing. Henry probably would be livid if he had said anything like that. The Kid was clearly all in with her now, no pun intended.

[mmmmalo]

Jade & Bec

[This is an experimental post, exploring the threads between Jade & Bec, which will be updated regularly unto some semblance of completion.]

Are you familiar with the concept of trolls as manifestations? Cool, awesome, here’s a strange edge-case:

Tavros informs Jade that he prevented her death by commanding Bec to redirect a bullet into a villain’s heart. Jade informs Tavros that the “villain” was in fact her Grandpa, and Tavros attempts to defend his misguided heroics with the dignity of a wounded puppy dog. The strangeness: if Tavros is manifesting for Jade, why is he explaining Bec’s motivations for killing Grandpa? After all, Tavros directed Bec to do something Bec was already going to do – both of them are concerned with Jade’s safety. One might conclude that Bec (like Tavros) misjudged (not really) the danger presented by Grandpa (Harley). However, the manifestation of Tavros implies that these motivations also apply to Jade, despite her vocal insistence that Tavros is wrong.

What gives? Here’s a possibility broached in the second half of the conversation:

What if Bec is Jade’s imaginary friend? Tavros’s inexplicable manifestation for two parties would then be explained as voicing the thoughts of a mind divided. This would mean Jade shot Grandpa, albeit with several psychic buffers.

I realize that this would contradict the birth of Bec seen in Jade’s dreams, and that’s certainly not something to be ignored -- but then the trolls acting as psychological manifestations would likewise seem to contradict their existence as alien entities. The uncanny dissonance comes with the territory of dream logic, maybe.

Another reason to think Bec may have always already been a part of Jade: in the same way that cherubs seek to rekindle a primordial union, the kids in Homestuck universally aspire to a reunion. When John seeks to reunite with Dad, their separation analogous to the scratch on Dave’s record, an emblem of his fractured sense of self. John’s distance from (his image of) Dad is met with anxiety, and the urge to unite with that image drives much of his behavior throughout the story. Critically, a consequence of conceiving of this union as a re-union is that John fancies himself as having spawned directly from Dad’s image. (x)(x)(x)

As her riveting anthro treatise indicates, Jade similarly wishes to unite with Bec. The creation of Jadesprite corroborates this, as does the eventual realization of dogtier!Jade. But what could it mean for Jade to think of this as a RE-union? There’s certainly the sense in which Jade romanticizes shedding the trappings of civilization and embracing animal instinct, which can be conceived as having preceded humanity as we know it. In that sense, Jade could be said to be “returning” to a state from which humanity ostensibly divorced itself.

Put in familial terms, you might say humans are descended from beasts. Thus phrased, Jade being raised by a dog seems like a very apt metaphor.

Bec being Jade’s creation would admittedly invert this sense of who is parent and who is child, but there’s precedent for that sort of thing. The metaphor rich soils of Alternia has an upper class defined by the lower class trappings of Juggalo culture, after all. At this point I only want to establish a starting point for considering what it would mean for Bec to have already been Jade.

Main topics for future additions:

Why would Jade want to shoot Grandpa?

What are we to make of Bec’s powers if he is an extension of Jade?

(and of course, further justification for either of these questions being asked)

[5/3/2019] Topic: Jade & Lightning

First, a comment:

zenosanalytic

the parent stuff seems pretty easy, considering that it's de riguer in Homestuck for kids to be the parents of their parents

so like: Bec would both be a creation of Jade, and her primary parental figure. The different would be that, whereas with the B1s&2s it's a literal genetic link, with Jade and Bec it'd be more role-based.

...'difference' rather -__-

Thanks -- that’s further reason to regard that twist as a non-issue, except insofar as it may evince confusion on Jade’s part.

To get into the subject of why Jade would want to shoot Grandpa, it would be worth it to review and reevaluate stuff leading up to this. Namely, Jade’s fear of lightning.

When John entered the Medium, he had several near-falls: slipping on a staircase, launching into the air with his new Pogo-Hammer. Each encounter with the possibility of mortal descent was followed by the appearance of large ogres, who begin their assault after John looks down into the abyss. The ogres are physical manifestations of John’s abstract fear of heights, a fear which began with his fall from the slime pogo, and which Sburb stoked by placing his home on top of a huge spire. (Or perhaps it would be better to say that heights are the aspiration, and falling is the fear)

Subsequent encounters between kids and the monsters on their planets can be similarly understood as reactions to fears exemplified in some early trauma. Rose slams an ogre face-first into the oceans of LOLAR, which reminds her of the drowning of Jaspers. Dave gets his neck slit by an agent, which is an echo of the decapitated apartment building suspended over a bloodpool of lava, itself an echo of the fracturing of Dave’s identity from fraternal emasculation. In each case, the challenges posed by the game are directly sourced from some psychological fixation.

In Jade’s case, the appearance of her first imp is triggered by an aurora that bears a striking resemblance to lightning, giving a fairly direct indication of Jade’s fear. What’s more, the form of this manifestation is a callback to Bec’s first appearance! Naturally, this could be explained as simple callback reminding us the imp has inherited Bec’s powers via prototyping. But insofar as the imp is a manifestation induced by the image of a thunderbolt, the sequence suggests that Jade’s fear of lightning is closely associated with Bec.

There are precedents for this connection: one is rooted in the idea that the sylladex is itself a medium for the abstract expression of thought. When Jade attempts to draw her Eclectic Bass back into her Pictionary Modus, she instead captures the ghost image of Johnny 5, a sentient robot. This error is not a random occurrence, but rather a short circuit of mental association. Eclectic is two letters apart from electric, and Johnny 5 emerged as a consciousness due to a lightning strike, like a metallic Frankenstein monster. Immediately following this error, Bec appears and zaps Jade back to her room. – the dog is somehow both the interruption of this line of thought and its culmination.

The invocation of Frankenstein allows us to make some sense of the earliest iteration of this pattern: a pumpkin carved with the visage of Bec nearly awakens Jade when the reader tries to drop it on her head. 4 points:

John covered his walls with clowns and rude epithets; Rose scrawled frantic permutations of MEOW; and Dave drew SBAHJ. Each instance involves the kids expressing some kind of subconscious fixation or fear: John and his social anxiety, Rose and the echoes Jaspers’s swan song, Dave and the fever dreams within his art. There are no comparable drawings on the wall of Jade’s home, nor in her room on Prospit, but rather than concluding that Jade is an outlier to the trend, I would contend that Jade carved the face of Bec onto the pumpkin in her sleep instead. This again indicates a dread for Bec buried in Jade’s mind -- or rather, that Bec is an expression of some unspoken dread?

The pumpkin drop is echoed in drunk!Rose’s account of Newton’s mythic realization of the law of gravity. Rose says the proverbial strike of apple-to-noggin is symbolic of inspiration, the sudden intrusion of an idea. The same can be said of the pumpkin as a symbol: recall that the gift that inspired Jade to begin gardening in the first place was pumpkin seeds. So that which threatens to awaken Jade is the idea of Bec, again situating the scene

That the “reader” executes the drop is not arbitrary. It is crucial to the structure of the scene that the impetus for this attempted inspiration comes from beyond the fourth wall, for reasons I will elaborate upon in due time.

The inhabitants of dream bubbles are at times referred to as the dreaming dead, invoking the age old metaphor of death as a long sleep. The corollary is that awakening is akin to coming alive. As the allusion to Frankenstein via Johnny 5 might suggest, the flash of Bec-associated inspiration from beyond bears the possibility of no only awakening Jade, but of bringing her to life.

More lightning talk tomorrow.

[5/6/2019] Topic: Grandpa Harley

Let's skip to the end (and sort out the messy filler afterward): Jade's fear of lightning seems to be linked to a sexual assault at the hands of her grandfather.

An early hint comes by way of another reference to Johnny 5. Having alchemized the thunderstruck robot, Jade finds herself swarmed with notifications from the manifest Eridan. The Prince impresses upon her Ahab's Crosshairs, a weapon which had been previously established as a phallic lightning bolt (x). Knowing that the weapon will somehow make it to her grandson* Jake, Jade muses on the question of who she might have kids with. Eridan in turn balks at the thought of "pink wwigglers comin out a your owwn personal torso" -- a turn of phrase that obviously alienates us from childbirth, but also presents us with the image of worms or maggots wriggling in Jade's body. Rot blends with an image of fecundity, like the scarabs in the Mummy. We don't have the tools to make sense of this overlay of death and birth quite yet, but we will return to it. For now, consider this scene as a collage whose elements we cannot yet organize.

The more overt indication comes via Clubs Deuce. Recall when dream!Jade beat the snot out of CD for stealing the queen's ring, only to reveal that back in reality, Jade's dreambot was beating the stuffing out of dead!Grandpa? The juxtaposition suggests that Jade's violence towards CD in her dream is a displacement of some latent aggression towards Grandpa. Much later, just before Cascade, there is a payoff of sorts for this linkage: another lightning aurora hovers in the distance as Jade prepares for the scratch, and it triggers the return of CD. He drops in from the sky and kills Jade with an explosion of foam, knocking the Genesis Frog into the Forge in the process. The foam is ejaculatory, and the depositing the frog where it may gestate prior to its final descent/ascent to Skaia is an insemination. We infer that CD is playing the role of Grandpa in this display.

In response, Jack kills the shit out of CD, just as Bec killed Grandpa. The retaliation has echoes elsewhere. Recall the gag in which Hussie riffs on the end of the Neverending Story: he rides a white dog-dragon and avenges himself upon some bullies with a blast of stupid green dog barf. (Aside: it is out of the current scope, but worth noting that Hussie and Falkor respectively bear emblems of influence by Vriska and Lord English) The sequence is a silly mirror of Becsprite's annihilation of Jade's imminent meteor (the seed) with an immense blast of green fire. Entry sequences tend to involve some esoteric depiction of a character's trauma, and in this case, the meteor directly represents the "bully", Grandpa. (And perhaps to a lesser extent, bullies like Karkat, who in their own way posed a violent, intrusive threat to her (emotional) well being)

The entry meteor's threatened impact with the earth is but one example of the colliding celestial spheres that seem to haunt Jade. In Descend, Jade's reverie in the golden city is cut short as Jack severs the umbilical chain connecting the moon and planet (child and parent), sending the moon careening into the Battlefield below, crushing Jade. As with the meteors that swarm Skaia like sperm upon an egg, the child-status of the moon renders its crash akin to a seeding. A subsequent collision is more direct: Jake's Hope field versus Jade's green fireball. The entire grimbark scenario was triggered by Jade catching a glimpse of Jake's banana hammock (though of course, on a plot level the transformation was triggered by HIC's mind control). To drive the point home, Jade bemoans her inability to detach her focus from Jake's undies as they duel. As Jade is overpowered, the collision of Hope and Space comes to resemble the visage of Doc Scratch -- this unsettles due both to Scratch's pedophilia, and the way that the mind/body blocking of the scene reinforces the sense of domination from Jake to Jade. Adding insult to injury, the defeated Jade is crushed to death by a long white tower.

All this would seem to have been foreshadowed by Dave's comment on the earth being under assault by planet fucking Jupiter; the invocation of Zeus connects his comically absurd doomsday scenario to Jade's fear of lightning.

Next topic -- motifs connected to imbuing inert matter with the breath of life, and how they relate to Jade's sense of agency.