#and i hate when the other siblings are pushed aside or ignored in favor of the Smart One because intelligence is all that matters in life

[br1ghtestlight]

im glad everyone in the belcher family isn't really academically smart (louise definitely COULD BE but she doesn't try or see any real value in it) or particularly knowledgeable but their accomplishments are always celebrated within their family!!! because all of them (except louise which once again isnt really relevant) are terrible at math but that's fine and literally Normal for their family. and when gene gets a B- in science and they make a whole event of it bcuz they're so proud of him!!!! i see a lot of sitcoms where there's one Super Smart genius sibling and then the others kinda get pushed aside or their accomplishments aren't celebrated but bob's burgers celebrates all the achievements in the family no matter how small and theyre always so supportive :)

(it's funny bcuz gene is literally a savant musician but they don't treat him or his sisters any differently bcuz of that. and louise is incredibly intelligent but neither of them are ever made to believe they're BETTER than other people bcuz of that or that their accomplishments are all that they are. which is much healthier imo)

[verycherrymary]

Let me preface this by saying that I know nothing about Resident Evil and I probably won’t play any of the games but I was curious because it’s hard to ignore a tall, elegant, older woman. My curiosity was piqued and I decided to check it out. I watched playthroughs and cutscenes and sort of got the story but I can definitely (and probably) be missing things. I say this so you can take my opinion with a grain of salt. 

That being said, I think that switching the order of appearances between Heisenberg and Dimitrescu would have made the story better. 

SPOILERS BELOW

Now, I do not say this because I wanted Dimitrescu to live longer or anything. I say it based on what Heisenberg and Dimitrescu bring to the table and how, in my opinion, it could have been better utilized by the story. 

Let’s start with Heisenberg. He’s clever, so clever that he has figured Miranda’s plot which is something that the other three lords do not seem to have done. He’s also the newest member of this twisted family and so, he functions a lot like a bratty, youngest sibling who is the black sheep. But he’s also the favorite. Miranda awards him the honor of deciding what happens to Ethan. In her journals, Miranda seems to favor Heisenberg. And even as someone who watched the walkthroughs, Heisenberg is great. He’s funny and he seems the most “normal” out of the four lords (sans the whole killing thing, ya know.) 

He’s also extremely persuasive.

And it’s this persuasion that, in my opinion, was underutilized. By the time Ethan gets to Heisenberg, he has beaten three of the lords. Ethan discovers that Heisenberg pretty much figures out Miranda’s plot and wants to destroy her. He’s the only lord that expresses disdain towards Miranda and, for a moment, he tries to convince Ethan to help him. But obviously, by this point, Ethan has no reason to side with Heisenberg. 

But what if this happened at the beginning of the game? 

What if Heisenberg could have convinced Ethan to help him out? What if Heisenberg told Ethan that he hates the other lords and that he’s been wanting to get out of this family? What if Heisenberg was the one who told him about the four lords (and not the Duke). When I first saw the trailer and saw all the pictures in the background, I actually thought Heisenberg’s role was going to be one of a guide almost. Your first look into the mess that is the village. (Also, I thought the X out picture of Dimitrescu was because of his disdain for her.) And sure, he told Miranda he wanted to kill you, but maybe it was all for show. Maybe Heisenberg came up with the idea of a game to allow Ethan to escape his crazy family. Or maybe Heisenberg was just supremely impressed with Ethan and thought Ethan was the man for the job, to take down Miranda. 

This would have made Heisenberg live up to being “the most dangerous” as the Duke said. Heisenberg doesn’t care about the conventionalities of his little family and so, he has no restraints. He’s on his own mission and he’s going to use Ethan to get it. Until something happens that makes Ethan realize that Heisenberg is going to double cross him or maybe has double crossed him. 

Granted, I have not watched everything and there could be things that I am missing, but while the game kind of touches this idea of Heisenberg being a double crosser, it does so kind of weakly. And in my opinion, a lot of it has to do with the fact that it came so late in the game that it kind of lost its effect. Had Heisenberg been the first villain you encounter in this strange world, maybe it would have changed because he would have been your first source of information. And if you relied on Heisenberg’s tellings of what is happening, then you have an unreliable source and as a result, your information may be unreliable, perhaps to Ethan’s detriment. Again, adding to this “dangerousness.” 

So what about our lovely Lady Dimitrescu? Well, she has the makings of a closer. Lady Dimitrescu is like the character on the stage you can’t take your eyes off. Her design is a large part of it, but it’s also her attitude and personality. She’s a diva, from the way she talks to the way she walks to the way she conducts herself. In her mind, she’s the best and all of her other “siblings” are beneath her. 

And it’s this ego that is underutilized in my opinion. 

Leaving Lady Dimitrescu for the end would allow her ego to grow and ultimately be her downfall. In her mind, she’s the best. She’s the oldest, the most responsible, and the most dedicated to Mother Miranda. So if she saw Heisenberg fail, Beneviento fail, and Moreau fail, well that’s not a big deal because she’s Lady Dimitrescu and she’s too big to fail. Mother Miranda made a mistake in trusting Heisenberg because look what happened so of course, it’s up to big sister Lady Dimitrescu to clean the mess her siblings made. 

And that would be her downfall. 

Because then when Ethan Winters comes and starts killing her daughters, one by one, her ego gets plucked further and further as she becomes more unhinged. This is her house, her daughters but this man is storming through them. Now she’s failing too, just like the rest of her low life siblings. But she’s better than them so how is this possible? We already know from her journals that Lady Dimitrescu has the issue that every oldest sibling seems to have: this need of validation. And she was determined to get that validation by proving to Mother Miranda that she had made a mistake and by getting Ethan Winters. 

But now, she’s alone. Her daughters are killed. Mother Miranda will be so disappointed in her. And she too is failing, just like her siblings. She’s feeling an incredible amount of pain and loss.  It would be enough to send her in a rage, to devote herself completely to destroying Ethan Winters. 

And if this wasn’t an action game, I think that the best takedown for Lady Dimitrescu would be one of her own creation. One where all the tragedy, shame, and humiliation causes her to make a dumb mistake that allows Ethan to bring her down. At the end, she’s not so different from her siblings and she too falls. 

Karl Heisenberg and Lady Dimitrescu are the two ends of the same rope, each tugging at each other and believing they are superior than the other without realizing that they will both be hanged by that rope. They stand out because they have personality but it feels like their personalities were not used to the full potential. For me, that’s the most disappointing part of it. I don’t mind if they died, in fact, it’s to be expected. The issue is always the treatment of a character before they died and I just don’t feel like either character was used to their full potential. 

Like I said, I have no clue talking about and I’m not part of this fandom. I just hate seeing really interesting characters just kind of pushed aside. The other two lords have their own interesting parts, especially Donna. But Heisenberg and Dimitrescu really had the chance to be something more and it didn’t happen. 

But this is just my opinion and it’s uninformed and I don’t want hate, thanks.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Held Back - Harry Hook x Ben’s sibling! Reader - Part 1

Note; before we start, “reader” is non-binary but since I've always imagined Auradon is pretty… old-fashioned and close-minded, they really don’t realize they are NB but know they don’t like being referred to as a “girl” or a “female”. Also, I know “realistically” Adam and Belle wouldn’t neglect their 2nd kid for the first n shit but it’s called a plot point and they are like that for a reason.

Tried to not use “readers” pronouns at all until we get to the good shit where they are like “oh, that’s what that is?”

Also, this will be a 2-part story, the 1st takes place in D2, while the 2nd will take place after D2 and into D3 :3

OH, slight smut in this fic….yeah…it doesn’t get detailed-detailed, but it gets…heated…yeah…if you don’t like even reading this that hint at sex then I’ll put warnings at the beginning and end of those scenes :3 otherwise this is a pretty “safe” fic

Enjoy~

=

Being the daughter, and the 2nd child, to Beast and Belle, wasn’t…what everyone assumed it was. Everyone expected that since you were their 2nd kid, one that wasn't in line for the throne, that you could do anything, get away with anything. That you could just shrug and say ‘oops’ and all would be forgiven. But it wasn’t. It was constant rules and upkeep, never able to run free and scrape your knee when you fell off the tree you had climbed, never able to just scream as you ran along the shoreline, soaking the seawater into your clothes.

Always sit up straight, never cross your legs, never run, never frown, never sneer, don’t talk back, don’t yell, just sit there and -

Be perfect

For the early years of your life, you had loved Ben. Ben your 5-minute older twin brother, Ben who always cared about you, Ben who hid the vase you had broken when you were chasing him through the castle halls when told not to.

Ben; who had refused to let you be pushed aside.

But resentment grew when your parents would always favor him, always praise him; for the bare minimum.

If he got a B in his project? Amazing! Take him out for ice cream.

You? Getting a B+? scolding’s and being told to do better next time, with your dessert taken away for the week.

While you held this resentment for him, you couldn’t hate him, not really, not when he would sneak you his leftover ice cream that was your favorite flavor, one that he hated but your parents didn’t know, not when he would run into your room on stormy nights to make sure you were okay.

Not when he obviously loved you so much.

But you wanted more, you needed more…just something to fill the gap that your parents were leaving. A gap that for some reason they couldn’t see was growing bigger every time they turned their backs on you and turned to Ben.

You were a loner too…most of your “friends” were actually Bens friends, Audrey being one of the few that usually hung out with you outside of Ben and Chad, she was petty as hell sometimes and pretty passive-aggressive to those she didn’t like but she had never seen you as “Bens sister” or “the second child of King beast and Queen Belle”

She just saw you as (y/n), her friend.

When the VKs came, it was almost a relief, finally, the attention was off of you. With Bens coronation and even your parents paying more attention to the new kids instead of picking apart what was wrong with your English essay.

You had tried talking to them, but all four of them were pretty off Standish, and in their own group almost all the time, but after they had chosen good, you and Evie had started talking and had grown a small friendship, one that was nothing compared to what she had with Ben and Mal but you didn't feel as lonely anymore.

Mal had…. acknowledged your existence…yeah, the two of you didn’t really interact much. And you were fine with that.

Especially after Ben told you she tried to memory spell him (you had almost stormed into her dorm guns blazing). Then soon after that, Ben and the other vks were going back to the isle, and you were utterly bored and needed to do something other than sit in your room and disappoint your parents by doing nothing so why don’t go to the isle and disappoint your parents for a good reason!

So now, you stood at the stairway below the core four’s hideout, happy you had taken your denim jacket with you as the isle chill set in.

“so?” Evie asked Ben as he solemnly climbed back down the stairs, his eyes at the ground “where’s Mal?” Ben shook his head, pushing past Evie and Jay and walking down the ally.

“she's not coming back” he muttered before disappearing. You kept your eyes on him in worry, ignoring the other three’s worry over Mal who was safe and sound in her little hideout while your brother, who knew how to hold a sword but sucked at hand to hand, disappeared into the alleys of the isle. 

You moved to go after him but stopped as a much taller, leaner shadow took Bens place in a blink and walked toward you. “hey!” you yelled, the vks stopping in their Mal rant and turning to you “Ben’s gone”

Evie's face melted from worry for Mal to worry for Ben as she stepped next to you and called for Ben as the tall shadow got closer “Ben…Ben!”

It seemed they thought the new shadow was Ben as Evie sighed in relief and looked away, setting her hand on your shoulder “Ben don’t scare us like that!”

“Don’ scare yeh~?” the tall shadow stepped into the light, the teens bright blue eyes sending shocks down your spine as you looked into them “That’s my specialty ~” he purred, his eyes flashing between you and Jay. Evie breathed out his name in annoyance.

Harry…what a nice name...

“what did you do with Ben!” Jay stepped in front of you, not liking the way Harry was eyeing you up. Harry seemed to no understand what Jay was asking before he gasped, turning slightly to point down the ally.

“oh~! We nicked ‘im~!” he nodded as if he was explaining something to a toddler “and if yeh want ta’ see ‘im again~ have Mal come to the chip shop tonight~” his eyes darkened as he gestured to the group with his hook “Alone…Uma wants” his tone lightened again, his eyes looking back at you with curiosity “a little visit~”

He looked at jay again and pursed his lips, looking up and down “aw Jay~” he tilted his head and gave a teasing grin “seems like ye’ lost yer touch~” Jay growled and tried to tackle Harry, but was stopped by Evie. Harry held his hands up and giggled, turning to you and bowing slightly “your highness~” he purred, winking at you and blowing a kiss as he walked away.

The vks mostly ignored his last few actions and Jay hopped up the side of the stairs to get to Mal, while you watched Harry disappear into the ally, your heart going miles a minute.

“wow” you muttered, shaking your head to get rid of the fluffy feeling in your head “get a grip (y/n), he just kidnapped your brother!”

You quickly followed Evie and Carlos as the gate door of the stairway lifted and ascended to the hideout.

-

Leaving you on your own in the hideout was probably the worst choice the vks had made that entire night, as you had nothing to entertain yourself with so you just left and traveled around.

You had somehow walked from the hideout to the docks, and if you remembered correctly, this was the pirate's territory. So, you spun back around to get your ass back to the hideout but stopped as two sets of lust-filled eyes stared back.

But unlike Ben, you smirked as you crouched into a fighting stance, you had taken almost every self-defense class you could. For more than one reason but mainly because even in Auradon there were still nasty people.

The bigger one of the two men rushed at you, but ultimately flopped to the floor as you pivoted on your right foot and swung your left leg around, hitting him directly in the temple and knocking him out.

You grinned at the other man and waved your fingers at him “come get me~” you jeered, laughing to yourself as he yelled and rushed at you.

But before he could take a step closer, a silver hook whacked over his head and knocked the second man out. You pouted and glared at the new person, not caring if it was the teen that had kidnapped your brother an hour ago “hey!”

“hey~!” he mocked back, a teasing smile on his face. He stepped over the two men and curled his hook under your chin, his eyes drifting over your face “now what's a little princess-” you twitched at the nickname “-like yeh traveling alone on the isle~ it's dangerous yeh know?”

You forced down the heat that wanted to cover your face and shrugged, mentally smirking as Harry rose his brow “well…they left me alone in the hideout and I got bored…can't blame me for wanting some excitement eh?”

He squinted at you for a minute, as if he was trying to figure you out…then he finally spoke “yer different than’ I thought yeh would be” he muttered softly, the cool metal of his hook drifting away from your chin and back at his side.

You crossed your arms and cocked your hip, giving the pirate a smirk “what did you think I was going to be like?”

“prissy, stuck up, wouldn’t touch the isle even with a hundred’ foot pole” he shrugged, licking his lips as you rolled your eyes and brew a lock of hair out of your face.

“well as you’ve just experienced, that’s not true” Harry laughed through his nose, looking up towards the barrier and running his free hand through his hair.

“aye…” his shockingly blue eyes drifted back down to meet yours. “so why even come ta the isle? Fer beasty boy? Malsy?”

You looked down at your shoes…you really had no reason to come along did you? Ben and the others could have easily handled getting back Mal without you…so why?

…

“because if my parents are going to disappointed in me it might as well be for a real reason” you muttered, letting your arms drop to your side.

You felt Harry's eyes on you as you stared hard at the ground, willing yourself not to cry. “that sucks” you looked at Harry through your lashes, seeing him staring at you with sad eyes “I thought…I thought all Bora-don parents loved their kids” he laughed uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head.

“well…they are still human…and just because they are hailed as good people, don’t mean they are good parents” you sighed, crossing your arms again and looking away from Harry's eyes.

“wait…Bora-don?” you laughed, turning back to Harry with a grin. He seemed to be relieved of the subject change and a sharp grin grew on his face.

“aye, it's boring, so, Bora-don~” he giggled, rocking on his heels a bit. A few moments passed then he held his hand out to you.

You stared at it, then him for a few moments. “come on, let's give yer dumbass parents a real reason ta be disappointed in yeh” you smiled and took his hand, laughing quietly to yourself as Harry tugged you away from the docks and toward wherever he was taking you.

-

Your legs were in Harry's lap as the two of you cackled into the dead of night, hands stained with paint and rotten food. Harry had taken you for a night of chaos, destroying vendors with paint, pranking the twin sons of Gaston’s with balloons filled with rotting eggs, and just wreaking havoc in the streets of the isle.

Harry's arm went behind your back as you fell to the side slightly, his bicep pushing against your arm. “thank you Harry” you hummed as you finally calmed down, giving him a closed-lipped smile. “this…this really meant a lot to me” he stared at your lips for a moment before a soft, unsure, smile grew on his lips.

“it was no biggie princess,” your lip twitched at the title “I was kinda already planning ta do all those things anyway…thought it was pretty fun ta do it with someone instead of by myself” you laughed a bit, leaning back on your hands and closing your eyes.

“I get that”  it was silent for a few moments, just you and Harry on top of the abandoned building.

“yeh reacted when I called yeh princess” you twitched again “yeh did it again…is something up with the word?”

You sighed, then opened your eyes, staring into Harry for a moment then looking away “I…I don’t like being referred to like that…it’s not the title its…what it refers to… it's hard to explain”

Harry tilted his head, his hand going on your knee to gently push you to continue “is it the royalty thing?”

“no” you dismissed quickly “its…the princess thing…its…well…ugh” you took your legs off Harry's lap and switched to sitting on your knees, looking at Harry with serious eyes “I've never told anybody this and you have to swear you won't tell anybody else after I tell you” Harry blinked wildly for a moment then looked at you confused.

“lass” you twitched again, making Harry pause for a moment “darling, unless it’s something that will help bring down the barrier or take over the world, I won't tell a soul” you snickered for a moment before you took a deep breath, preparing to tell a person you had just meet that day, one that had kidnapped your brother no less, your greatest secret.

It didn’t help that you felt more comfortable with him in five minutes than you had with your parents for the last 16 years. “I…don’t like it when I'm referred to with girl-like titles or…pronouns” you winced, hands going to block anything that might come your way.

“oh, yeh don’t like she-her pronouns where they are used in a way to refer ta yeh?” Harry clarified, you looked at him slightly odd, expecting some sort of relation or comment, but…it was as if you had just told him you didn’t like a vegetable instead of you not being comfortable with your gender pronouns?

“uh…yeah basically?” you rubbed the back of your head, the other hand picking at the loose threads on your pants.

“yeah, it's not that uncommon ‘ere, I think Desiree is non-binary and one of the other crew members is gender-fluid…not that it's not a big deal but…why have yeh never told anybody else about that? Not even yer brother?” your wide-eyes looked away, hands clenching into your shirt “Darling?”

“um…Auradon isn’t really…accepting of most things…I didn’t even know that…non-binary and gender-fluid were a thing…what do they mean?” you looked back at Harry who seemed to be very surprised “what?”

“nothin’ I'm just surprised tha’ the place of happily ever after’s is kinda…shit?” he laughed, rubbing the back of his head “okay lemme remember what Desiree told me um…Okay non-binary is when you don’t…identify as the gender yeh were at birth so say…okay take Desiree as an example, they’ve been told they’ve been a girl since they were born but they’ve always felt like that didn’t fit, but being a boy didn’t feel right either. so that’s what non-binary is. It's that yeh are neither male nor female yeh are…well you, and most of the time, as far as I know, they use they-them pronouns instead of she or he. but I think some of them use she and they, or he and they…just depends on who uses the pronouns n stuff.”

That…that sounded right…you had never liked female pronouns on you, and ages ago, when you tested male pronouns to yourself, that never felt right either…could you be non-binary? “um, what about gender-fluid?” Harry took a deep breath and looked up.

“Okay, I’m not as knowledgeable on that since the one who actually told me about it didn’t tell me everything…anyway, its under the same...umbrella i think its called as non-binary but genderfluid is when you are both genders, not at the same time…I think, but one day yeh can be female, the other a male, sometimes neither, but that’s what gender-fluid is. They don’t have a fixed gender”

While that sounded interesting…it didn’t feel right to you, you never felt like a girl, and you never felt like a boy… “I think I’m non-binary” you breathed, feeling like a weight was lifting off your entire body. You grinned as Harry smiled.

“awesome, welcome to the club darling” you let yourself fall forward into Harry’s chest, who stiffened slightly and slowly wrapped his arms around you.

“thank you” you muttered quietly, rubbing your cheek into his collarbone. His entire body was still as you cuddled into him, before he relaxed and laid his cheek on your head.

“yer welcome darling” he whispered back, one of his hands going up to cup the back of your head, thumb gently rubbing back and forth.

You jumped as a sudden loud noise crashed below you, and you further ducked into Harry, yelping slightly as he tipped back and the two of you ended up in an odd pile on the rooftop.

Harry tightened his arms around you, his entire body tense again as he listened for any threats. He let out a soft sigh as the high-pitched yowl of a cat rang from where the loud noise came and the animal scuttled off. “yer fine” he whispered, letting his head hit the roof as you sat up and looked around “jus’ a cat”

-smut starts here so if you don’t want to read anything that either includes it or hints at it just scroll till you get to another warning, but this does has some plot points in it soo scroll at ur own risk-

You nodded slightly, twisting around to look at the bleak buildings of the isle. you felt something beneath your legs and you glanced down, feeling heat creep into your face as you realized you were straddling Harry's thigh, it seemed he didn’t fully realize you were doing it as well, his leg rubbing against…well your…area.

You squeaked as he pushed his leg up further and tipped forward, your hands reaching out and slamming next to Harry's head to catch yourself.

His eyes flashed open, red building on his cheeks as your faces were suddenly only two inches apart. “um” you looked to the side, biting your lip “s-sorry” Harry glanced down, the blush spreading to his ears as he realized what the pressure against his leg was. He laid his leg flat and let out a short laugh.

“uh…” you locked eyes again, and a strong shiver was sent down your spine as you looked into his sparkling ocean blue eyes.

You could feel an ache between your legs begin to grow as you lifted yourself back up and hovered over Harry's hips. Harry slowly sat up, stopping inches away from your face, his eyes drifting to your lips for a moment then looking back up at you. “I-“ you whispered, biting your lip as a devious idea came to mind “I have…an idea”

“oh,” Harry whispered back, leaning a bit closer, his hands sliding forward on the ground and resting on your thighs. “Wha’?”

“you know what would really disappoint my parents?” you grinned, your hands reaching up from your sides and gripping onto Harry's jacket, pulling him toward you a bit.

He grinned back, looking down at your lips again “wha’ would tha’ be?”

You leaned in, lips only an inch from his “sleeping with someone they would hate” you could almost feel the wide grin that spread on his lips.

“sounds an excellent idea~” he purred, hands flashing up to your shoulders as yours curled around his neck and pulled him into a hard kiss, teeth clashing and faces warm.

Harry's leg arched up against your butt and forced you forward again, your lips parted with a gasp as Harry leaned back with you. he wrapped his arms around your torso, pressing your chest into his and leaning down to nip at your neck “Harry” you breathed, pressing your lips together as Harry's hands drifted down to your butt and pushed it against his hips, an odd hardness pressing against the ache between your legs. You let out a low whispering moan as he ground against you, his lips smirking against your neck as you started to meet his hips in tandem.

“that’s it darling” he purred, trailing up your neck and sucking on your jaw “jus’ like tha’” you whimpered, ducking your head down and burning into Harry's neck as Harry's hips started to go harder and faster against you. You let out small gasps as your hips twitched and ground back down into Harry's, who let out small groans against your shoulder.

“hang on hang on” Harry grabbed your hips, stopping you and sitting up. One of his hands reached up to the back of your neck and pulled you back, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. His hips started again, the heat between your legs almost becoming unbearable as you trust against them to get rid of the ache.

Harry nipped at your lip, smirking as you opened at his request and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He sucked at your lip, dragging your tongue into his mouth. You sighed at the feeling, tightening your grip on his jacket as you let him just play with your tongue.

He pulled back, smirking at the trail of saliva that still connected your lips. “shall I take yeh to my apartment yer highness~ yeh should be taken in a place of privacy, not a damned rooftop.” Your hazy mind yelled at you to go with him and you nodded, yelping slightly as Harry grabbed your thighs and stood with ease, your legs locking around his waist. “I’ll take good care of yeh darling~”

-

You let out a breathless gasp as your back hit his bed, the larger teen pouncing on top of you, not waiting for you to stop bouncing, and pressed another bruising kiss to your lips.

You heard him unzip his jacket and throw it across his room, the chain across the back making a loud sound as it hit the wall. He pulled away from you for a moment to rip off his sword sheath and shirt. You felt your face burn as his pecks and abs came into sight, slowly reaching out to trail your fingers against his scars as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You felt him shiver as you brushed your knuckle over his perked nipple and gripped onto his bicep, biting your lip at the look in his eyes as he smirked down at you.

“before we start” he rasped in a low tone, making you press your thighs together to relieve the ache that pulsed “do you really want ta do this?”

“yes” you answered immediately, smiling at his question, good to know that even after you had gone this far, he still asked for consent. He smiled back and leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, noses touching.

“Jus’ tell me ta stop, and I will” you nodded and pulled his lips down into yours, immediately opening your mouth and clashing your tongue with his.

Within seconds your jacket was taken off and Harry pushed your top up above your breasts, unclipping your bra from the back and pushing that over your breasts as well.

You pushed at his chest, Harry immediately pulling away and raising his brow, laughing slightly as you sat up and discarded your top and bra. You pulled him back into the kiss, groaning into his as his hips dipped and pressed into yours again.

He pulled away for a split moment, making you whine in objection and tug on his hair. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, lips brushing against your skin.

“I'll make sure yeh won't be able ta walk properly tomorrow~”

-

Harry started up at the ceiling, his fingers gently trailing up and down your back. Almost every inch of him ached, from the reddening hickeys on his neck, torso, and hips, the scratches on his arms, back, and torso, to the bitemark on his neck.

He looked out his window, noting it was pitch black outside. He sighed and turned his head into you, curling his other arm around you and tugging you tighter into his side, breathing in the scent of your (fav shampoo).

He didn’t know why, but from the moment he had first seen you, your curious eyes peeking from behind Jay's shoulder, he had felt something flutter within him. He wasn’t able to stop thinking about you from then on, even as he taunted Ben in the lost revenge’s brig, unable to get those hypnotic (e/c) eyes out of his head.

He couldn’t ignore the genuine happiness when he saw you again, taking down those goons with ease and confidence. He couldn’t ignore the feeling in his chest when you laughed, the intense fluttering when you smiled at him.

The way heat rushed to his cheeks when you hugged him.

The passion he felt as he looked down at your writing body as he was deep inside you.

-Alright! Yall who don’t like reading smut/stuff that hints at it are good! You may continue reading!-

He shouldn’t feel this way, not for the child of the king that had sent his father to the isle, and dooming hundreds of kids to a floating prison just for being the children of villains. He shouldn’t feel this way about the sibling of the king they had kidnapped and were holding for ransom.

He had only heard of this type of feelings from stories of the heroes of Bora-don, how they had somehow fallen in love within seconds of meeting the other. He had never understood it, calling it stupid that someone would fall in love with someone they just met.

He understood it now, the ache in his chest when he thought of you being hurt when the villains took over the world after Uma got the wand and freed them all. He only had one word to assign it to.

Love.

His grip on your waist tightened, and he buried his face in your hair. He didn’t know if he would ever see you again after today, so he would treasure the moments he had with you now.

You groaned slightly in your sleep, your hand that wasn’t trapped under his pillow reaching up and curling around his neck, pulling yourself further into his neck, your nose pushing into the dip between his shoulder and neck.

He pressed a kiss to your head and closed his eyes, huffing slightly as he realized he felt completely content by your side.

-

You grumbled as beams of light pushed through your closed eyes, you pushed off Harry's chest and glared at the window, reaching to close the curtain that half covered it, huffing as you realized you couldn’t reach it from your spot buried in Harry's side.

You stilled as Harry's arm reached past you and closed the curtain, leaving the room in calmly lit darkness. He put his hand on your head and pushed it back onto his chest, thumb gently caressing the back of your head. “morning” you rasped, tilting your head to rest your chin on Harry's pecs and smiling at the slowly awakening pirate.

“morning darling” he rasped back, his sleepy ocean blue eyes staring back at you. He slowly sat up, shifting you to sit in his lap as he shook his head to force himself to wake up. “wha’ time is it” he grumbled, raising his brow as you reached behind him for your pants, that were hanging off his bed frame, and pulled out your phone.

“8:30” you set your phone on the nightstand and flopped back into Harry's chest, tightly wrapping your arms around him. “what time is the…thing?”

“12” he hummed, pressing his cheek to your head and holding onto you “so…”

“three and a half hours” you did the math for him, pouting as he pulled you back slightly and looked into your eyes.

“Uma wanted me at the ship at nine darling…” you sighed, looking at your lap as you realized your time with the handsome pirate was almost up.

He pressed a kiss to your head and pulled his blankets around you, covering your nakedness and getting out of the bed, aware of your eyes on his butt as he walked over to his dresser.

“Please tell me it wasn’t just me” he paused as he slid his underwear over his hips and looked over at his shoulder at you, eyes widening as he saw a droplet of water appear from behind your hair and fall onto the blanket “please tell me it wasn’t just me that felt something”

He was silent for a few moments, biting his lip as his heart raced with the realization that you felt the same way he did.

He stared at you for a few moments before turning back to his dresser and opening the small box on top and pulling out a necklace.

He turned and walked towards you, giving you a soft smile as he sat in front of you and gently lifted the tread around your neck, trailing his fingers down it and holding the small charm in his fingertips.

You glanced down at it and gasped, the charm was a small metal hook with a small red gem in the middle of the bulb. “this is something I’ve had fer awhile” Harry whispered, looking back up at you and bonking his forehead into yours “Gil made it for meh a long time ago, but it…it didn’t feel right on me…but I kept it cause it felt like it had a purpose…I guess that purpose was ta be on yeh” you sniffed as your vison blurred “what I’m saying is…yes, it wasn’t jus’ you, I felt something too”

He tilted your chin up with his finger, softly smiling at you and leaning in slightly “a feeling I’ve only heard in yer Bora-don tales” you gasped slightly at that, heart going a thousand miles a minute as you realized he had felt the same way you did since you had first seen him last night in the ally “it sounds stupid” he chuckled, looking off for a moment “I never believe those tales of love at first sight or that type of shit but…” he looked back into your eyes, hand trailing from your chin to the back of your neck “I was proved wrong”

He pulled you into a sweet, soft kiss, your eyes closing as he slowly moved his lips against yours, his other hand coming up and taking your hand that wasn’t holding the blanket.

Your mind went hazy as the world around you melted away at the taste of Harry's bruised lips, giving you the softest kiss you had ever gotten from anyone.

He pulled back for a moment, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before sitting back and opening his eyes, smiling as you kept yours closed and swayed slightly “(y/n)” he whispered, realizing he had to go very soon if he wanted to make sure you got back to the core four safely, and make it to the ship on time “ye have ta go now”

You slowly opened your eyes and pouted, tilting forward and hugging Harry tightly “I know, but It's too dangerous for yeh here love, get dressed, and I’ll walk ye back to the hideout” you shook your head against his chest but obeyed after he clicked his tongue and picked one of your legs up and let it drop on the floor.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood, grabbing his clothes that had been tossed around in the night and quickly getting dressed, grumbling about his belts that had somehow disappeared.

“under the bed” you snorted, laughing as Harry paused and dropped to his knees and looked under the bed, muttering some curses to himself as he pulled out the two black-brown belts and attached them to his hips.

You sighed as you ran your fingers over the purple hickeys all over your neck and torso, whistling slightly at the dark bite mark on your ribs. You mentally thanked your past self as you pulled your turtle neck over your head and smoothed it down. “yeh ready darling?” you nodded over to your shoes and picked them up, walking over to Harry's bed to put them on.

You finished lacing them up and jumped slightly as Harry's hand appeared in your vision. You looked up slightly, biting your lip as he was fully geared up, a tricorn hat on his head, and a blue headwrap hiding his fluffy back hair. He had lined his eyes thick making the blue pop. You took his head and stood, the two of you walking out of his apartment and towards the hideout.

-

You stopped just a little less than a block away from the hideout, Harry taking off his hat and holding it in front of your faces as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips “I’ll see yeh later yer highness” he whispered with a smile, he took a step back and bowed low, flipping his hat on his head as he stood.

You shared a sad smile and Harry walked away. You watched him for a moment before you called after him, he turned with a raised brow “stay safe…please” you smiled as he nodded.

“as yeh wish” he turned away and walked toward the wharf, leaving you to return to the hideout alone, the cold metal of the hook charm against your chest reminding you that you might never see him again after today.

-

You never did see him again that day, being forced to stay with the car as the others went to get Ben.

It had been a week since cotillion, and you stared at yourself in the mirror, dark bags under your eyes as the clock read 2 am.

It had been hard…hearing yourself being referred to as “she” or “her” or “the sister of king ben” when you had finally found out who you were.

After you had gotten back you had scoured the internet to look up the terms Harry had told you. Non-binary…’Non-binary people not only do not identify as the gender they were assigned at birth; they do not identify with the male or female gender at all’

You were non-binary, and it was so hard to hear yourself be misgendered after years of feeling uncomfortable being referred to as a ‘girl’ then finally figuring yourself after meeting Harry. you thought of telling the core four, but you were scared that they would ask about how you found out, and then you would have to spill the beans about Harry.

You didn’t know what it meant to be non-binary but…this was your journey right? As long as you felt it was right…it had to be the right path…right? You glanced at the scissors on the counter, then back at yourself in the mirror, frowning at your long hair that your mother had demanded that you never cut dramatically, in fear that you would be seen as a boy.

…well fuck that.

You grabbed your scissors in one hand, your hair in the other, and pulled it to the side. You closed your eyes as you held the scissors over your hair.

*snip!*

You hardly looked as you chopped off your long hair, the locks falling on your feet and bathroom floor as you did.

You took a deep breath as you set down the scissors again and quickly looked at yourself, breath-stopping as you did.

“oh” you breathed, leaning forward towards the mirror and reaching up to touch your choppy short hair “...there you are” the cut was ugly and rough but…it felt right…you smiled, running your hands through your hair.

A thought came to mind, and you ran into your room to grab a baggy button-up shirt you had stolen from Ben months ago and quickly threw it over your tank top and buttoned it up.

You took a deep breath and stepped in front of your mirror, your eyes burning as you felt like you were seeing yourself for the first time “there you are” you whispered again, reaching up and grabbing the hook charm as you closed your eyes.

Your name was (y/n), and you were non-binary.

And if that disappointed your parents? Or anyone else in Auradon? Fuck em.

If you were proud of yourself that was all that mattered.

-end of part 1-

2nd parts gonna be after d2 and into D3 with (y/n) telling Ben and the C4 about them being NB and doing things to help themselves feel more like themselves…yep :D hopefully, I did this fic right and represented those who are non-binary correctly, I used the knowledge I had and did some research to make sure I didn’t type any stupid shit.

Oh also enjoy this little sketch dump I did while writing this, it's not (y/n) exactly, but just how I envisioned the “character” if it wasn’t a blank slate “character” lol, and yes they do got a pirate look going on…that’s the point XD they take inspo for their fashion from Harry/pirates.

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@queer-cosette @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @jatp-rules-my-life 

@rintheemolion @thecaptainsgingersnap

@verboetoperee @imtryingthisout

[battlinghurricanes]

DEIPHOBUS TIME!

I'm honestly not entirely sure how I got such a deeply involved concept for his character and motivations, but I definitely did. I just feel like he fits into an especially interesting place in everything and that there's a lot of great potential with him.

Shout out to @petalveinedwarrior for enabling me and also I'm very sorry for being incredibly long winded. My bad.

Also DISCLAIMER! I am NOT an expert on the Trojan War and all its surrounding mythology lol. This is just for fun, based on my own fairly limited knowledge of the myths (though I think I pretty much cover everything that’s relevant to this). These are just my headcanons woven with some details from various myths. Sorry if anything’s missing or inaccurate!

SO!

-

First and foremost, I headcanon Deiphobus as the oldest of Priam and Hecuba’s children after Hektor.

Hektor calls Deiphobus the dearest of his brothers, and to me, this is why. They are the closest in age and they were the closest growing up, best friends when they were young. They also get the closest to being on equal footing which means a lot to Hektor, who often feels distance between him and his other siblings because of being heir to Troy.

Despite the relatively equal ground and Deiphobus treating Hektor with a very casual familiarity, deep down, he idolizes him. Deiphobus adores and admires Hektor, ever a younger brother in how he looks up to his strength and intelligence and reliability but close enough in age to not feel the same envy as so many of their younger siblings.

Deiphobus is aware that he is next in line to inherit the throne of Troy after Hektor, and the possibility of that is more real to him than to the rest. He doesn’t envy or want the responsibilities Hektor has to bear being the first son and admires him for it rather than resenting him. He never wants the weight of Troy on his shoulders.

Additionally, as close as they are, Hektor confides more openly in Deiphobus than the rest of their siblings. Consequently, he has a more realistic idea of both the burden he bears and also the ways he struggles to manage it like any human would.

Deiphobus holds Hektor in the highest regard- he means the world to him. It is a strange and unique combination of relating to and understanding Hektor exactly as he is and then loving him so dearly for how remarkably he seems to do in all of it, all that Deiphobus adores and strives to be like.

Hektor calls Deiphobus the dearest of his brothers, but Deiphobus would never need to say the same of Hektor, that much has always been obvious.

Deiphobus himself is ferociously loyal, boastful and fiery proud, wild and energetic, and always quick to smile and laugh with a sharp sense of humor. He’ll defend his own with tooth and nail, Hektor first and foremost, and they make a well balanced pair. Hektor’s level headed sense of responsibility softens many of Deiphobus’s rough edges, and Deiphobus’s enthusiasm breaks through many of Hektor’s more anxiously formed reservations.

Deiphobus would do near anything for Hektor, to a concerning degree in the eyes of some, but Hektor, by his nature, isn't overly controlling. He doesn't want Deiphobus to change how he is. Mostly, the only place Hektor truly pushes him is on moral grounds, for better rather than for worse.

Deiphobus hates to spend time overthinking anything, which benefits him in some ways, but also frequently has him following the example of those around him without considering what might lean towards cruelty. Hektor never tolerates hurtful and needless rudeness or otherwise, and their friendship doesn’t spare Deiphobus his reprimands.

Hektor's needling, though, has him step back and reexamine his actions and the second look is generally what he needs to correct his missteps. Admittedly, he’ll sometimes act better in some way solely to please Hektor, but far more often than not, he’ll come to recognize why it’s best with time and continue that way from his own compulsion.

(He grows and his conscience sounds irritatingly like Hektor.)

Deiphobus is actually one of the best of his siblings at not holding a grudge. He might for drama or humor’s sake, but once a squabble is past, he’ll easily set it aside in favor of having fun with whoever he fought with.

Regardless of his flaws, Deiphobus is amiable and of the opinion that it’s never worth passing up a good time over some pettiness. He’s never one to ignore the value of little joys, no matter how fleeting they are.

Before the war, when he is still younger, there is Antheus. He’s the pretty son of Antenor, and both Deiphobus and Paris are quite taken with him. Paris’s involvement rubs him the wrong way, but he elects to ignore it as best he can. It doesn’t sit right to consider policing Antheus’s actions. He can hardly demand he stop seeing Paris while still insisting on his company, after all.

Besides, he can’t really complain. Antheus favors him with his presence often, laughing at his jokes, stealing off his plate when they share meals, tumbling with him when they wrestle. And when Antheus lifts his hand to idly toy with his lower lip as he smiles slyly at him, Paris is the last thing on Deiphobus’s mind.

Hektor teases him sometimes when he turns up ruffled from some exchange turned overzealous, but his flustered frustration pales in comparison to his excitement, so Hektor gets away with it. Oh, he loves Antheus and the feeling is so heady, better than the most potent wine.

Then it all shatters when some men rush into the palace with Antheus’s limp body carried between them. He was in the gymnasium with Paris, they learn. One throw from Paris with a warped discus and Antheus was gone. Deiphobus stares at the blood soaked in his lovely hair.

Deiphobus is ready to rip Paris apart, but when his brother is guided in after, there’s just no room for it. He’s in complete hysterics, shaking all over as he hyperventilates, and screaming would have gotten through to him no more than their family’s vain attempts to calm him down.

Paris is inconsolable afterwards. He retreats in on himself, though without any attempt to defend himself, first to give himself the blame. He makes for a pitiful sight, and at first, Deiphobus can’t stand being in his presence at all, to take his anger and grief out on him or otherwise.

It doesn’t take that long for Deiphobus’s anger to grow more painful than cathartic anyway and, well, it is hard to lash out at someone acting exactly how he feels. He feels the same heartbreak and pain he sees in Paris and he can’t find it in himself to rage against him when he’d rather just sit and cry himself.

Paris does take it upon himself to face Deiphobus after a time and claim responsibility for what happened that day. Deiphobus doesn’t forgive him, doing that feels... off, but he manages to convey that he won’t turn on him for the accident with Antheus. He thinks that might make Paris feel better but he can’t truly tell.

It all still hurts then, even as they try to get things to settle. Nothing but more time can do anything more to heal those wounds.

And time passes and then Paris returns from Sparta with Helen, and, well.

The brewing war doesn’t drive a rift between Deiphobus and Hektor, but it does force a new distance between them. The pressure on Hektor spikes and never eases, and the time he has to spare becomes exceedingly rare.

Much of the time the two would have spent for themselves together now shifts to working together to manage the complications that come with this new conflict; Deiphobus has new responsibilities to shoulder himself. More work, less play, but the mutual affection and respect between them remains just as strong as before.

Deiphobus can’t help but feel a certain bitterness over having the casual companionship of his brother taken away from him, but he does all he can to set it aside. He refuses to let it be another source of stress for Hektor, so often too caring for his own good, and he doesn’t hold it against him anyway.

As always, Deiphobus remains aware that these tasks could easily have been his and, privately, he feels woefully inadequate in the face of that possibility. And truly, it just serves to make Hektor even greater in his eyes, handling it all with grace he can’t imagine. He knows he’s not perfect, yet still, it’s hard to imagine that anything could ever truly bring Hektor down.

And so, Deiphobus helps his brother in the ways he can and loves him as ever, always ready and eager to fight at his side.

Deiphobus leads a contingent himself, and does it well. It comes easier to him to manage a smaller group like that. He does as directed and guides his men through the fighting. One can say what they will about his ability to lead, but his capability as a warrior is undeniable.

Things shift between Deiphobus and Paris as well. Much of Troy turns on Paris, some faster than others. Deiphobus ignores the greater dramatics which, in his opinion, help nothing. Still, it is often tempting to berate him for his flippant disregard of the battles so he does, which is, admittedly, not entirely unwarranted.

However, Deiphobus and Paris share a mutual, unspoken understanding that they simply cannot focus on the war at all times. Sometimes it must be set aside. This is more often true to Paris than to Deiphobus, but that invites Deiphobus to keep Paris’s company when he can no longer bear all the stress.

In turn, when Deiphobus approaches him like that, Paris can trust not to be reprimanded as he so often is, as that gets ignored along with the rest of it. So there are times during the war where the two can be found together affably, chatting about nothing important. Their personalities can still mesh in such moments.

And, well, it’s shocking how steady things can stay over nine years of war, but they do. Death and loss become far too familiar companions, but they can do nothing but keep fighting through that, and things proceed much as they have been.

Until, of course, Achilles.

With all the cruelty of fate, it of course follows after they get the closest to driving away the Achaeans as they ever have. Such a brief, amazing hope. In his unmatched fury, Achilles slaughters their soldiers, butchers many of his brothers, escapes Scamander’s rage through the grace of the gods, and drives the army behind Troy’s wall with his advance, except for-

Then-

Hektor is dead.

Deiphobus tastes blood in his throat screaming at the sight behind the chariot.

In a way, it’s a blessing that it takes twelve days to get Hektor’s body and another twelve to bury it. With his death, command of Troy and her allies has passed to Deiphobus, and he could barely lead his own horse after losing Hektor, much less an army.

Deiphobus falls to pieces. He can barely process it, losing the one he held in the highest regard, held every confidence in, believed in to his core. Hektor was the best of all of them and now he’s dead, leaving him shattered. Deiphobus is hysterical, wildly heartbroken.

In this time is when Priam first turns on his remaining sons. He lashes out at them as he prepares to ransom Hektor’s corpse, degrading them as the most worthless of his sons. Still half blind with tears of grief he can’t hold back, he thinks that it’s true in the same moment he thinks of how he will now have to take Hektor’s place, worthless ruin though he is.

Most often, Priam refrains from speaking of his remaining sons after that, and in rare, fleeting heartbeats he almost seems contrite over cursing them. Neither is enough though to keep him from savagely reproaching them in unpredictable instances as Troy continues to spiral towards its doom. Deiphobus shakily chokes down his father’s abuse without a word.

Of course, he returns to the battlefield once Hektor is buried, coming to truly learn the crushing weight of his new role. How did his brother bear this? Every day feels like one failure after another; he’s not strong enough, not smart enough to do this. He tries anyway, each day more taxing than the last.

Deiphobus can hardly bear Paris after Hektor’s death. A large part of him hates him for it, desperate to pin the blame on someone despite knowing deep down that he’s not responsible. Though, even then, part of him is drawn to Paris, broken same as him, shaped by a sort of desperation to grieve for their brother with him. Misery loves company.

His anger burns hotter, but now he can’t bring himself to berate him even in the way he did sometimes before all this. He never confronts him with his hatred, such that it is. He simply avoids Paris entirely, knowing that if he indulges in the impulse to curse him for what happened to Hektor, he would fall apart at the seams.

Even now he can’t face the truth of what happened and keep going. It is all he can do to try never to think about it.

And then, with the aid of Lord Apollo, Paris kills Achilles.

The undecided limbo of Deiphobus’s feelings towards Paris topples into something like affection the moment he hears of it, connecting them once more. Paris has destroyed Hektor’s murderer, avenging him, and that matters to Deiphobus more than anything else.

That night, the two of them drink together until it half kills them, close enough to keep knocking shoulders as they revile Achilles with the worst profanities they know. It’s the only celebration they can muster after everything, but they’re both laughing for the first time since they lost him.

(When the night grows damnably late, Deiphobus’s attempt to laugh turns into retching and Paris collapses to the ground when he tries to get up to help. They suffer the agonizing morning together.)

They make a strange pair from then on. Friendship would be a generous word given the still unavoidable tension between them, but they somehow manage to maneuver around that and share a certain closeness. They maintain it despite differences that grind against each other. Sad as it is, it’s one of the only things either of them have left.

Paris and Deiphobus also weather Priam’s spontaneous tirades together. Usually wordlessly, but there is something to be said for the company of someone enduring the same pain you are. It is a quiet solidarity, but a significant one.

They talk of the war far more often now. Every day it devours more and more of their lives, always harder and harder to ignore or set aside. On rare occasions, they do still manage it. Those conversations make for a breath of fresh air, though that does little to stave off the feeling of drowning.

And then Paris takes a poisoned arrow and dies.

Deiphobus doesn’t wail and sob in the same way he did for Hektor. He’s too numb for it now. It hurts in an unnatural, distant sort of way. All he can muster is a ugly, stilted feeling of shame for letting himself come to care for him in the first place. Of course he would die like the rest, he should know this by now. He crumbles further.

After Paris’s loss, there's only two reasonable options for what to do with Helen. Either they need to return her to Menelaus or arrange a new marriage and keep her in Troy.

Helen pleads to be returned to her first husband but Deiphobus competes with Helenus to be the one who weds her. Troy does not stop them. There is a quiet but tangible tension to the city and he doesn’t think their people would tolerate Helen departing. He competes with everything he has left and he wins. And they marry.

That first night, Helen stares at his back while sitting in her new place on his bed. She expected to be treated like a piece of meat, a feeling she's grown well used to through living her life under the eyes of men, but he's barely even looking at her. He fought for her hand with an undeniable, feral sort of desperation. What was it for if he doesn't even want her?

"Why?" she asks him. "Why bother going through every effort to marry me only to be so cold now? What do you want?" Her voice would cut razor sharp if only she wasn't so tired.

He turns to face her with bloodshot eyes narrowed in a glare, riddled with barely restrained anger and grief. "I'm not letting you leave," he forces out and Helen pushes down the urge to scoff because that much is obvious.

"It has to be worth something," he continues. "There has to be something we fought for. If we just let you go back, then it won't have been worth jack shit." He paces, not looking at her again. "I won't allow that. Don't think you can avoid all this so easily now that Paris is gone. There has to be a point. My brother is dead because of this shit! If you're gone, then what would be the fucking point?!"

His brother. He means Hektor. He means Paris. He means every last one of them, so many dead. He means Hektor.

Helen doesn't reply. There is nothing she can say to that. For all that it doesn't make a difference, what he's laid before her is something she knows well. She's spent so long now berating herself and blaming herself for all that's come to pass and she understands. She hates this, all she wants is to go home, but she understands him.

She knows that they both hate each other and themselves all in equal measure. What a wretched pair they make, Helen thinks.

Not that they make much of a pair at all. They're rarely ever together. Deiphobus camps outside whenever he can, and when he can’t, he goes out of his way to avoid her. Helen accepts it as the best she can expect from the truly miserable situation this has become. The war drags on, but the truth hangs in the air that Troy is losing.

Then the horse.

The people, starving so desperately for peace, bring it inside the walls. Deiphobus tries to be cautious. He tries to think of what Hektor would have done. He commands Helen to walk around the horse, calling out in the voices of the Achaeans' wives. If there's some wretched spy or invader, let them show themselves. He'll kill them.

No one answers. Deep down just as desperate for peace as them all, he breathes a sigh of relief and leaves the damn horse.

He hopes the Achaeans filled their mouths with blood, biting their tongues as hard as they must have.

Troy is burning. The Achaeans fill the streets with slaughter; they are everywhere. Reunited with her husband after so, so long, Helen tells Menelaus where Deiphobus is. And so, Deiphobus dies alongside Troy.

(Deiphobus and Hektor meet again in the Underworld and Deiphobus tries to apologize for his failure to keep Troy safe. Hektor will hear none of it, refusing any of the anger he has every right to put on him. Still, a long time passes where Deiphobus silently and anxiously wonders if that was a lie, if Hektor truly does hate him for what happened.

Hektor keeps throwing him tense, unsettled glances sometimes when he thinks he’s not looking, even though he never says a thing. Each one worms further and further underneath his skin and he starts to squirm under the conviction that he’s done something wrong. Something Hektor holds against him.

When it finally grows so unbearable that Deiphobus confronts him about it at last, Hektor flinches and doesn’t disguise his fear and upset. Deiphobus braces himself. But then, mangled in with confusing, ashamed apologies, Hektor recounts for the first time how he died.

Athena luring him to his death in Deiphobus’s shape, speaking in his voice. How he turned to face Achilles believing he had support. When he called for a spear from his brother, he was alone.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I think of it at all, I’m so sorry I let you believe I was angry with you because of it. I’m not, it had nothing to do with you, you shouldn’t have to know of it at all. I just- remember it sometimes. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Deiphobus feels nauseous. Hektor looks even more so.

“If I had actually been there-”

“No! Don’t do this. Achilles would have just killed you too.”

“We wouldn’t have died alone, then.”

They clutch at each other, these battered remnants of their souls, carrying with them the wounds of their lives.)

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part one: falling flowers

A friendly date with Calum’s best friend’s sister was not supposed to tailspin into a night of blurry secrets and uncertain feelings. And yet, there was no telling of the fleeting taste of sugar and the warmth of being with each other. There was no denying all that lingered between them. And consequently, there was no escaping all of the repercussions and mixed emotions the night created.

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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The party was verging on completion when Calum finally worked his way over to her; he had spotted her almost immediately after entering the yard. He almost didn’t recognize her after years of change and distance. She sat alone on the grass, back to the house with a bottle leaning against her leg. Music was becoming a background noise as the glitzy house party began to wither away. Calum approached her slowly and kneeled down, his own drink settling on the grass. Her head was tilted back, gazing up at the stars in a silent introspection. Calum knew she was aware of his presence; the slight shift in her position offering him a spot by her side. He took it without a word and pressed his back to the siding of the house just like her; let his eyes wander up as he cleared his throat.

“Hey, short stuff,” he began with; the old nickname coming off his lips in a teasing manner as it always had.

“You know I hate being called that,” she answered as she always used to. “Ever since we were kids.”

Calum nodded though she couldn’t see it, her gaze still captured by constellations. He let out a breath as his hand hovered over his drink and his eyes skirted down to hers. It was nearly empty and he couldn’t help but wonder how many she’d already had. His hand abandoned his cup in favor of settling on his lap.

“And I’ll have you know I hit my growth spurt since I last saw you,” she defended as she finally turned to catch eyes with him.

Dark hazel eyes were unblinking and unfazed. She had changed over the years, but her unflinching ability to hold eye contact stayed the same. Calum remembered her in hazy moments. Michael’s sister was sifted into the background of many memories. Now she was a thought at the forefront as Calum arched an eyebrow and took up the bait of banter.

“Yeah, how much did you grow? An inch?” He asked as she sighed with pouted lips and eyes that told him he was a fool.

“Two, actually,” she corrected in such a matter of fact voice Calum couldn’t argue; or continue to use his nickname against her.

“Alright. Arden it is then,” he conceded and though the name was foreign on his tongue after years of not using it the slight smirk on her face made him want to continue the practice. “How has Arden been lately?”

She gave him a pointed look and a smirk but shrugged, a forced nonchalance taking over. She picked at an imaginary loose thread on her striped pants as her feet wiggled and she figured out how she had been doing. Calum gave her time to think it over, craving an honest answer.

“I’d say I’ve been doing okay in some aspects,” she replied and shrugged again. “Maybe not as okay in others. I’m no famous rock star, that’s for sure.”

Calum bit back a sarcastic laugh at her last comment but let the reality of her words before wrap around him. Okay and not as okay. She was a conundrum, a kaleidoscope point of view; this and that all at once. Calum suddenly wanted to see from her eyes, see the shifting lenses and the light and reflections of how okay and how not okay she was.

“Last I knew you were off in Italy somewhere, what brought you all the way out here?” He asked, hoping that maybe Italy and her reasons for visiting were a part of the okay aspects.

Arden shifted, turning so her weight was on one leg and knees were bent and she could face Calum fully. She reached for the bottle she was nursing and took the last small sip from it before putting it aside and pursing her lips in thought.

“Michael didn’t tell you?”

Calum shook his head; confusion clear in the motion. He couldn’t remember Michael mentioning why his sister was here; just that she would be around for a while. He could jump to conclusions and assumptions. A visit finally due after years of evading the city. Needing a favor. Missing her brother. None seemed plausible enough to bring the ever unattainable woman to a standstill in a city she seemingly hated and avoided at all costs. She had travelled the world; studied abroad and backpacked through countries Calum had only ever flew over or saw through airport windows. Yet she steered clear of the place Michael had made a home. And evidentially, that meant she steered clear of Calum.

“A wedding. It’s actually in Vegas but I knew I’d catch hell if I came all this way and didn’t pay him a visit,” she explained and Calum could sense tension in her words.

He’d settle for that explanation; for now. It was thin and terse and he could tell there was much more to it than that. But he was never one for pushing. Time would do the telling much easier than she would. Or Michael, possibly, if Calum asked in the right way. The mood was darkening in a way he didn’t want; a frown cutting across her face as they sat in silence for a moment.

“You didn’t tell me you’re getting married,” Calum joked, hoping his words would lighten the conversation.

He was rewarded when she laughed, but it was all taken back when she sobered and an unknown sadness captured her eyes. It was fleeting; there and gone in an instant. Shying away from the not okay as she reeled herself back in from scattered patterns of shadows.

“Not my wedding,” she said with a slight eye roll and smile; an attempt to follow his lead of lighting up the mood. “It’s pathetic enough I’m showing up to this wedding by myself. Be even worse if I was alone at my wedding. It’s too bad I don’t even have a friend to go with me.”

Calum let out a sarcastic huff and tried to ignore the speculative gaze she now looked at him with. When she didn’t look away and he could see the gears turning—already knowing the thoughts playing in her mind from just one look—he began to shake his head.

“No,” he said before she could say anything else. “No, I’m not gonna be your date.”

The words felt heavy. Heavy enough to sink to the bottom of his stomach and churn. Heavy enough to make him look away from her pleading gaze.

“Oh come on,” she said, voice verging on cracking. “I never ask you for anything.”

“I never ask you for anything either. It’s worked so far. Let’s keep it that way,” he said, words quick to defend his no though his mind wasn’t so sure about it.

When she went silent Calum felt a pull to turn back, heart heavier and faster in its rhythmic beats. Her eyes were now downcast, hands in the grass as fingers tugged on blades and slow breaths escaped her. He was almost certain she was calming herself, as if the situation was enough to make her cry. To make her not okay. Calum felt himself regretting his no as she looked up at him with shining eyes. He stole himself and licked his lips.

“Why don’t you ask Ashton? He likes Vegas.”

“He’s busy,” Arden mumbled and Calum gave her an incredulous look.

“So I’m just your back up then?” He feigned outrage but dropped the act when she seemingly didn’t want to play along.

“I figured you’d say no. I was stupid to even mention it,” she said, trying to wave away the situation as she leaned back against the house, finding the stars once more. “It’d just be nice to have someone I’m comfortable with there. A little moral support.”

“It’s just a wedding, Arden, you’ll be fine,” Calum murmured though he wasn’t sure of his own words.

He’d never seen her like this before. Admittedly, he didn’t spend much time with her alone, ever, but of the memories he was bringing back in none held such weighted words and somber tones. Arden shook her head and emptied her hands of the grass she had pulled up. They drifted off in a sudden breeze and Calum pulled his jacket a bit tighter around him. The night air was cool and he wondered how Arden was fairing in a tank top.

“It’s just a wedding, you’ll be fine,” she repeated and grabbed for her bottle but dropped it when she remembered it was empty. “You try saying that when the ones getting married are your best friend and your ex.”

Calum’s heart sank and stomach twisted; the revelation hitting him hard. He couldn’t imagine that, couldn’t fathom what she must be feeling. She turned back to him and bit her lip.

“Don’t go,” Calum suggested but he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

“That’d be worse than showing up alone.”

“Bring Michael,” he said and even he couldn’t hold back laughter.

“You really just want to embarrass me, huh?” She asked with blazing cheeks and a disapproving shake of the head. “The only thing worse than showing up alone or not showing up at all is showing up with a sibling. I’ll just go by myself.”

They lapsed into silence and Calum took a moment to think, to feel, to see things from her perspective. She went motionless; no wiggle of her feet, no picking at threads or plucking at blades of grass. Her gaze left him and focused on the fence separating property lines in front of them. His heart was pounding hard and fast, eyes burning at just the thought of her situation. Of Arden having to face all of that alone. Of being the one to let her down. His mind was already made up when she spoke again.

“You know, the reception has an open bar. And it’s Vegas. We can ditch as soon as possible; go gamble or drink our woes away.”

“You had me at the open bar,” Calum said though that was a lie. She had him with her glossy eyes and a truth that must have been painful to admit. “As long as Michael’s okay with it.”

Arden smiled, the woes already washing away and being replaced by shining stars twinkling in her eyes. She leaned in closer, barely a breath away.

“Thank you,” her lips nearly brushed his cheek as her whisper carried to him.

Calum warmed at the almost kiss and watched as she slowly stood, eyes searching the remnants of the party. In their conversation more people had fled, the music had been low to begin with but was nonexistent by the time Calum was pulled back.

“I’ll go tell Michael now,” she decided and began to take off in search of him, but turned back to Calum with a smirk. “We leave tomorrow. At five.”

Calum let out a breath and watched her go. He’d be ready. Waiting. Curious and taken by his best friend’s sister’s sudden reappearance and the mysteries that followed her. She’d been evasive for years, as soon as the band took off so did she. Keeping her distance and the answers to mysteries with her.

***

“I don’t know how you suckered me into not only going, but into driving,” Calum mumbled as he switched lanes.

They’d been in the car a while already but the situation was still perplexing to Calum. The road to Vegas wasn’t long in retrospect; for all the time he spent in tour busses and on planes a four hour drive was minimal. But, he was still dumbfounded at the fact he was behind the wheel. Arden’s art of persuasion had grown in the years they were apart.

“I don’t know my way out of California,” she offered and Calum could see from the corner of his eye the way she stretched out in her seat, legs wiggling in her attempt to get comfortable. ”Besides, we’re in Michael’s Tesla, it’s not like you really have to drive if you don’t want to.”

“I still have to be alert and in control. I don’t trust self driving cars,” Calum rebutted and then thought for a moment, a new question suddenly striking him. “If it wasn’t enough you got me to drive, how the hell did you get Michael to let us take his car?”

Calum spared a complete glance her way for just a second, just to see the smile on her face and the way her nose scrunched up.

“Laid the sweetness on thick. Begged, even. Said I’d tell mum on him,” she answered with a giggle.

“You did not.” Calum bellowed out a laugh, suddenly transported to a time where that threat was very real.

If Michael wouldn’t let her play video games with them. If they teased her just a little too much. Got caught spying or reading her journal. A threat of telling always followed. Sometimes tears, but always a threat.

“No. He was nice enough to say yes after a little bit of a puppy dog pout and about thirty minutes of begging.”

Calum straightened and tapped his fingers on the console. “You know I have a car we could’ve taken.”

“Sure,” she said quickly and clipped. “But it’s not as cool as a Tesla.”

“My car is cool,” Calum defended with a staunch expression.

Arden reached over and patted his hand lightly, as if comfortingly, the contact a bit odd; hardly ever having been so casual in those encounters. Not since an almost brush of her lips against his cheek as a thank you last night. And rarely before that.

“Whatever you say.”

The rest of the drive was quiet between them even though Calum had hundreds of questions filtering through his thoughts. He didn’t want to ask when his focus was on the road. He wanted to be able to fully gauge her reactions to them, note if her eyes averted his gaze or her words were tight and said between her teeth. He wanted to know the truths. So instead they listened to music. Her playlist was moody; darker themes carrying the lyrics and heavy instrumentation creating the songs. He felt that maybe there was something to understand there. He often found that music spoke louder than words.

By the time they got to the hotel exhaustion from the drive was winning over. Calum was able to secure his own room last minute; coincidentally and perhaps luckily, across the hall from Arden. With another odd form of contact—an unsure hug that lasted mere seconds—they bid each other good night. Calum stumbled into his room, peeled off his pants and shirt and fell into bed; half dreading the next day and half anticipating his time with Arden. It took him a while to fall asleep, usually he knocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. But there were too many thoughts and memories swirling through his mind.

Morning came in a rush. It took Calum no time at all to get ready for the wedding; merely showering and throwing on a suit. He wandered across the hall when he was done, wondering if Arden could use some company while she got ready, wondering if she might answer his questions in the meantime. The door swung open after the first knock. Arden stood before him in a bathrobe, hair in a towel and face clean of makeup.

“You’re not even close to being ready, are you?” Calum asked as she moved aside to let him in.

“Ten minutes,” she declared and shut the door before stalking off to the attached bathroom.

Calum was fully prepared for ten minutes to be twenty or thirty or even an hour. He couldn’t ask questions between the walls of the hotel and the obnoxious noise of an old hair dryer blasting on what he assumed was high. He was settled into a chair shoved in the corner, the muted curtains dominating the wall were pulled open just enough for some natural light to spill through and play against the patterns on the carpet. Before Calum could pull his phone out to kill time the hair dryer was shut off and Arden came stalking through the room, headed for her bag on the bed. She was quick in grabbing what she needed; a pair of shoes and something else Calum couldn’t quite make out. Her hair was dry and fell softly down her back; chestnut brown lightening from the sun. Arden looked over at Calum, a bite of a smirk on her lips as she backed away from her bag.

“Five minutes,” she updated with a promise and now Calum was apt to believe her.

When five minutes blew by and all was silent Calum stood from his chair; curious if five was turning to ten. He approached the bathroom door slowly; it was wide open and Arden stood dressed and ready. A red silk dress was heavenly against her skin and Calum wondered if maybe it was too much for a wedding; surely upstaging the bride—but then, for a moment, he considered that no matter what she wore no one else would compare. The dress was short but the Vegas heat provided reason for that. Her hair was now up but loose tendrils framed her face. Painted red lips were quivering and her face had gone flush; hands gripped the lip of the counter so tight her knuckles were visibly whitening. She looked up and caught Calum’s eye in the mirror; detached herself from the counter and moved to him with stiff motions.

“I’m ready,” she whispered with tight words and now shaking hands.

Calum wasn’t sure what led him to placing his hands on her shoulders—another form of touch they had never been comfortable enough to do—or why it was starting to feel so natural. He didn’t understand the way she responded, letting out a breath as if her worries were easing. Only when she locked gazes with him did he speak up and realize how hard this truly was for her.

“You know, we don’t have to go if you aren’t okay,” Calum offered; his sincerity on his sleeve and in his gaze.

Arden shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. Just a little nervous; I didn’t drag you all the way out here for nothing.”

“Well, it is Vegas. We could just go gamble or drink,” Calum repeated her words back near verbatim and it earned him a smile.

“After,” she said with a decisive head nod and moved away from Calum’s touch and to the door.

He watched her turn her confidence on as they walked to the chapel and then saw it crash and plummet upon entering and having to decide between the bride or groom’s side. Posing as her date left the opportunity to hold her hand open; to give her some comfort while being authentic and playing the part. Her palm was warm and her fingers gave him an appreciative squeeze, and while Calum didn’t notice during that particular moment he responded by running his thumb along the back of her hand soothingly. As if by instinct.

“Guess we’ll go to Viv’s side, at least she didn’t dump me,” Arden mumbled and Calum felt shock tingle up his spine as she led the way to a pair of seats.

The mysteries of Arden’s past were presenting themselves in small offhanded sentences. In queried answers that were tight and hard to swallow. It was almost as if the more Calum found out the less he wanted to know. Yet he needed to; he needed to figure out the okays and not so okays.

Through the ceremony Calum’s gaze kept wandering over to Arden; noting the way she shifted uncomfortably, letting her whisper in his ear as the bridal court walked down the aisle. Her whisper of at least she didn’t ask me to be a bridesmaid, those dresses are hideous making him smirk as he knew she was attempting to cover her pain with humor. He kept his hand in hers and although they’d never done something such as that—possibly the closest being a high five as kids—it felt almost normal as time passed. And in the midst of the vows; generic words that made Calum roll his eyes, he realized there was more to Arden’s world than he realized. He couldn’t picture her ever dating the man at the altar. Simply put, and only ever said in Calum’s mind, he looked like a douche. Like his name was Chad or Justin or something of the sort. The ceremony became a blur to Calum by the time they were at the reception; the promise of an open bar looming past the dance floor.

If Calum hadn’t been holding Arden’s hand he would have lost her in the crowd. She moved with graceful steps past people in their way. The venue was dark but lit with flashing lights. It felt more like a house party than a wedding reception to Calum but the loud drone of music drowned out the chatter of people he didn’t know. The dark provided an escape for Arden as she managed to wrangle them through the crowd and into the shadows. They stopped just short of the bar, tucked into a corner where eyes couldn’t find them and she could catch her breath. Calum could sense it was becoming harder for her, that the ceremony had done her in and the first dance was more than enough to keep her there.

“Want to dance?” Calum asked before he even knew the words were in his mind. His hand was held out to her and in the moment he rationalized it would be a good distraction. Arden bit her lip as she contemplated.

“I didn’t think you were one for dancing,” she said but took his hand nonetheless.

“Guess you don’t really know me.”

“Not anymore,” Arden said and Calum felt the weight of those words.

As he pulled her closer and onto the dance floor the distance they’d had between them for years became more apparent. They were never particularly close growing up, but they’d been in each other’s orbits long enough to know one another. He realized in a mournful way the Calum she knew was still a shy teenager with dreams bigger than his mind could allow at the time. She knew someone who was uncertain and still trying to find a path to follow. A boy with a choice and no right or wrong answers. And he knew her to keep eye contact with volition but blush at the drop of a dime. Teeming with wanderlust but having nowhere to go.  A girl with too many contradictions. Time had changed them and any fragment of what they once knew had blown away in years worth of winds.

The music had shifted to something slower, the lights easing with the song to glows scattered across the floor. Calum’s hands settled around her waist; with a light touch and questioning look to ask if it was okay. She communicated that it was by settling her hands on his shoulders. They found a rhythmic sway to the music even though their bodies were a bit stiff at another new form of contact. It took a few moments to warm up and relax. Calum explored her eyes, how dark they were against the glare of white lights. He had questions and now—while they were so close—seemed the best time to start asking.

“When did you even meet them?” He asked, referring to Viv and Chad or Justin or whatever his name was.

A timid and sorrowful smile captured Arden’s lips. He hoped the question wasn’t too much, wanting to avoid another glossy eyed or white knuckled incident. She sighed and Calum felt her hold on his shoulders shift slightly but stay present. He expected her to drop her hold, to fall into silence or turn and walk away. Arden was full of surprises.

“When I was studying abroad. Viv was my roommate and at the time my best friend. I dated Brett until my second year,” she explained.

Brett Calum mused, somehow, that was even worse than being a Chad or a Justin. He realized she kept the details to a minimum but held eye contact; Calum knowing it was the truth. A small bit of the truth that left more questions circling his mind but he was patient; willing to wait for her, knowing there was more than meets the eye.

Arden’s lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed as she thought back to a time he really didn’t understand. Her eyes were contemplative and Calum found himself diving back into them. Her gaze flickered and the lighting played against deep hazel and made it nearly golden for just a moment. He noted the way she squinted when lost in thought and was floored at the sudden panic that captured her now frantic stare. Her line of sight was past his shoulder.  It had him turning, catching the bride and groom passing by. It must have been shocking for her; speaking of them in small and painful fragmented words in a world where their lives were intertwined. And now she was an outcast; seeing her old best friend in white with her ex at her side—looking as happy as a couple could be. Without thinking, without inhibitions, he pulled her closer and without hesitation she reciprocated; tucked her head against his chest and let her arms slide down and wrap around him. He felt her body ease against his, could almost hear the breath escaping her over the boom of the music.

Calum’s heart was racing, body buzzing and electrified but the world was in slow motion. The sound of the music faded and all he could hear was the thump of his heartbeat; wondered if she could hear it too. Surely, with her head to his heart she could hear and feel it as well. He chalked it up to the moment. Everything was just a little bit too much. The song was too slow and the lights were too dim and they were too close. The moment was too intimate and it left his reactions skewed. He was susceptible to the influence of everything around them. That’s what he told himself when his hands found the small of her back and his head dipped down, an intoxicating and now familiar scent of honey and peaches finding its way to him.

Arden pulled back and looked up. The heels she wore put them nearly at eye level. And once again Calum found himself moving without thinking, pushing a strand of fallen hair behind her ear and letting his fingers linger and trace down her jawline. She was quiet but Calum swore she moved into his touch. The thought of who they were and who they are entered his mind but it was fleeting. Titles such as best friend’s sister became meaningless in a darkened moment with minimal space between them. This time, with nothing but thoughts accompanying his movements Calum leaned forward; painstakingly slowly with minute movements, giving Arden time to think as well. Maybe his thoughts weren’t all together and rational and maybe he was under the influence of their surroundings and maybe she was too close for any other thought to break through. There were a lot of maybes that made up the moment she closed the distance and red lip stain graced Calum’s lips. It was demure and brief but somehow Calum felt audacious and that time itself had stopped to allow it. His mind was spinning with senses of Arden he’d never known before. She tasted of sugar and left him in an airy free fall.

All too soon it was over. Calum cleared his throat and Arden blinked rapidly. They both came back to reality and a silent understanding of it never happened and it doesn’t count—both separately convinced of the influence of the atmosphere—settled between them. Arden went back to resting her head against his chest and Calum’s hold drifted back down. The music had picked up in tempo but another understanding of we’re fine the way we are slowed the music and the world and with eyes closed the flashing lights didn’t matter. Calum still felt like he was falling; completely winded and not sure he’d ever land or what would be waiting for him if he did. He found himself lost in the moment and sifting through memories; moments in which Michael had mentioned Arden in the years he hadn’t seen her. He was trying to piece her together and hold them together, another sorrowful feeling tugging at his chest as he realized all of the circumstances. That little title in his mind ringing alarm bells he found jolting. He drowned them out in favor of pulling her just a bit closer.

The music cut out and the world made room for a bridal tradition that had Arden on edge. Her grip on Calum tightened at the announcement and a nervous bounce had her shifting weight from leg to leg. In a matter of moments the bouquet would go flying and land in the hands of the person to be married next. A crowd formed around the bride and Arden looked away.

“How about… we go get a drink,” Calum suggested, wanting to take her away from the scene unfolding before them. Wanting to mend whatever pain and heartache she may be feeling.

She nodded.

“How about two? And then we leave.”

Calum followed her lead, quick steps carrying them away from the situation. He heard the drop. Turned to see a bouquet of flowers landed where their feet had been moments ago; Arden luckily oblivious to the unlikely affair. He turned and picked up their pace, wanting to avoid the rush of people trying to find the tradition. Wanting to put plenty of distance between them and falling flowers.

<< >>

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[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Heya if its ok could you do headcanons for slyvain, felix and Calude with an s/o that's constantly getting compared to there older siblings by they parents and they feel like there not good enough. Also I really like your work

{Hi! Sorry this took so long. It’s been a wild few weeks. thanks for the compliment and here ya go!}

Sylvain:

  I think Sylvain would be at a loss and that his reaction would heavily rely on how he’d learn of your insecurities. This is because sibling rivalry is not something uncommon among nobility 

 It tears families apart, literally. Just look at how things turned out between him and Miklan. Status and competition ripped his family to shreds 

He wants to be angry for you, but a part of him refuses. He basically feels as if he’s lost the right. It’s sad considering that his childhood wasn’t the greatest, but Sylvain feels that compared to the treatment Miklan received he got the better end of the bargain. He hates his crest, and how it pitted him against his brother. Yet he knows deep down that while Miklan was a jerk to him, the entire family treated his brother like garbage.

  Sylvain also knows that what happened with Miklan wasn’t his fault, and that nothing excuses how his elder brother treated him while they grew up. Yet...he doesn’t know what being on the short end of sibling comparison feels like. All his life he’s always been the one with the crest, the one to inherit the title, the one viewed as worthy, and while he hates the ‘crest privilege,’ Sylvain knows that life could have been different. Worse. 

He can’t have a heart-to-heart with his brother to talk it over either. Sylvain is aware he will never truly understand what Miklan was feeling. 

He doesn’t want that for you. Sylvain doesn’t want your fate to match his brother’s and depending on your relationship with them he might encourage you to reach out to your sibling. He is involved and actively trying to find a peaceful solution that will get you away from the negativity.

He’s there for you and sets aside his personal feelings on the topic to be a support pillar. This knowledge won’t avidly change how you two interact, but he does make it clear that you can always come to him when you’re feeling inadequate. You may feel many emotions, ones that he might not fully understand. Yet you will never be alone.

Felix:

 Your personal matters are not something Felix involves himself in often. He’s a firm believer of ‘privacy,’ and never pokes around in other peoples’ affairs. It’s unnecessary drama.

In other words: he views your relationship as two interlocked rings, sort of like a Venn diagram. You have your life, he has his, and whatever falls in the middle is what you two share.  

Except for serious issues. If you are ever in danger, suffering, frightened, anxious, ill, etc. he bypasses the rule of personal segregation and forces his way in. He has a protective streak that clouds his sense of judgement from time to time, so be prepared. His personal feelings might come across strong.

If it were a simple sibling squabble Felix would tell you to get over it, but if you confide in him whole heartedly the situation will escalate. He does not like seeing you broken. Not over something that could be avoided.

 You see, like Sylvain, this is a sore spot for Felix. His entire childhood he fought to break free from Glenn’s shadow and keep up with his friends. It left him emotionally tattooed with a failure complex, and his father’s behavior after Glenn’s death did not help. The difference is that it was himself doing the comparison, not his family. While Felix won’t openly say so, Rodrigue treated him with as much care as his brother. He was pushed to the best of his capabilities and the only one setting the expectations was himself.

He can’t comprehend why a parent would compare their children. To be so naive and insulting; he thinks they don’t deserve to have kids at all. Said thought filters into his solution to the problem.

He’s very direct with his involvement. If your family wants to behave like irresponsible twats then he will encourage you to separate from them. He’ll point out that family goes beyond blood, and that you don’t need negativity squandering your true potential. He’s certain that his father wouldn’t mind taking you in considering your relationship.

 (No, he’s not proposing. We all know that Rodrigue would bend over backwards if Felix actually reached out for a favor. And while it kills Felix on the inside to ask, you’re worth it)

I know, it’s irrational and not something one would expect from Felix. He’s not the type to go out of his way to help like this. If anything, people would assume that he’d push you to go make a life of your own or ignore your family and move on.

He does this because you’re the one in trouble, not anyone else. He wants you to focus on being your best self and knows bland words of encouragement won’t have anything beyond a temporary effect. Removing the source of the issue is the best solution and reaching out to his Father is a small price to pay for it.

Claude:

Claude handles the situation more from an observational standpoint in the beginning. He most likely can tell something is off with your home life long before you mention it. With the amount of time you both spend together he picked up on subtle hints easily. Shortly after your meeting he had also gathered information on your family, which sealed the deal.

Now he couldn’t just sit idly and watch you self-destruct. No, he needed to act somehow. Claude could never leave someone in such an unhealthy environment, let alone that person being his s/o. It’s just that family matters are a delicate situation that require as much tactical planning as the battlefield.

 He also is aware that information brokers can only tell him so much. Claude needs to hear the full story from you yourself, and to get that is much harder than it looks.

So, he waits. Eventually you’ll mention something that he can inquire further about. His pressing may upset you, possibly start an argument, but Claude knows it’s necessary. He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s manipulating your every move, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Your mental health is no joke.

Claude will listen to you with full attention. No jokes, snide comments, interjections, etc. He just lets you pour everything out and absorbs it.

Then comes the contradictions. Anything negative you have to say about yourself will be shut down immediately. He knows that emotional scars like these cannot be healed with flattery, but that’s not what his goal is. His aim is temporary relief to stimulate critical questioning

He wants you to choose what to do next. Amidst the compliments he’ll ask questions like “‘why do you agree with them?” and “What do you want to do?”. Suddenly multiple resources are at your disposal and you have a smooth-talking golden boi ready to fly you off into the sunset. It’s all up to you. He just assures that no matter what your family says or does, you have the choice to move on and a herd of deer backing you up

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Just Want You More... - Todoroki Shouto

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​  Pairing: Shouto Todoroki/F!reader Rating: 16+ Warnings: Profanity, angst, sadness Words: 1,809 Prompt:   “it's 2 am, i know that, but i need you..."  "I’m sorry, but i can't go to you anymore, you know that."  Take this as you will! write it how you see it. incorporate the quote somehow, even just a piece of it! NO HAPPY ENDINGS! >:D  AN: This is a part of the bnharem server collab for April! Make sure you check out everyone else’s contributions! Masterlist for this collab is HERE.  Buy me a KoFi?

--- You eyed the empty wine bottle and the red plastic solo cup sitting on your bedside table with a pang of regret. You hadn’t meant to get this drunk, but here you were.  Your head and tongue felt heavy as you sighed, rolling back over, your gaze falling on the too cold side of the bed that had once been occupied by him. Your own personal space heater and ice pack all rolled into one.

It had been months since he’d last slept beside you, your face pressed against the hard planes of his chest, his fingers tracing patterns along your back, his steady even breathing lulling you to sleep. You thought about his heterochromatic eyes and his soft smile, the cute look of confusion that crossed his face whenever he took something literally, the low timbre of his voice when he told you he loved you. These were the things that kept you up at night, and the reason you had drowned your sorrows in a cheap-ass bottle of wine on a Tuesday. 

Your chest ached when you thought about him. You missed him. You’d spent so much time trying to figure out what had caused this thing between the two of you to end.

Things were good, so good. You were happy and you thought he was too. But he started working longer hours and coming home less, making excuses and canceling plans. Your perfect relationship was unraveling at the seams, and you were scrambling to figure out where it had all gone wrong.

Everything finally came crashing down around you when you’d stayed up late to confront him. Months of being pushed onto the back burner had begun to take its toll on you. You’d tried to talk to him about it several times, wanting to quell the sinking feeling in your chest that he had fallen out of love with you, but your requests to speak with him were met with half-hearted apologies and broken promises. 

You waited for him in your moonlit bedroom, the telltale click of the lock on the front door letting you know he’d come home. It was 2 am, your breath catching when you heard his soft footsteps coming down the hall.

He seemed surprised to see you awake, his mouth open slightly in shock as you sat upright against the headboard, your arms folded across your chest.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake.” He said quietly, pausing in the doorframe.

“Where have you been, Shouto?” You said coolly, your heart hammering in your chest.

He sighed, walking into the bedroom and busying himself with emptying his pockets onto the dresser, his back to you as he began to get dressed for bed. “Working.”

“You always seem to be working lately. Sometimes I wonder if you forget I’m even here.”

“I’m a hero, Y/N. People need me around the clock, I don’t get to take off whenever I feel like it.” His voice was clipped, annoyance creeping into his tone. “I can't just drop everything-“

“I’m not asking you to. All I’m asking for is for you to make some time for me.” You blinked back the tears gathering in your eyes. “It’s almost like you’d rather be anywhere else but here.”

His shoulders tensed, and you watched as he changed into a pair of sweatpants, your eyes drifting over his muscled back and he pulled his shirt over his head. He didn’t reply, but you felt the heat of his glare when he turned to face you briefly before walking off towards the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed, sliding under the covers and laying down, your hands coming up to rub your eyes tiredly. You assumed your conversation with him was done with since he’d walked out in the middle of it. You turned on your side so you didn’t have to see him when he came to bed and closed your eyes. Your heart was broken, and you tried not to think about it, unable to stop the tears from falling down your face. You sniffled quietly, willing yourself to calm down before he saw how upset you were.

You listened to the water running and the sound of Shouto brushing his teeth. A few minutes later the door opened and the bathroom light clicked off. The mattress dipped as he got into bed, his breath huffing as he got comfortable on his side. The space between your bodies felt miles wide, and it made you cry harder. You shoved your fist in your mouth to keep yourself from making a sound.

“Why are you crying?” He asked from behind you, but he made no move to turn and comfort you.

“I’m not.” You managed, swallowing thickly and trying to calm yourself down.

He sighed. “You’re lying. Go to sleep, Y/N.”

Your sadness turned to anger again. Sitting up abruptly, you glared at the back of his head. “You don’t even care, Shouto. You don’t care that you’ve shut me out of your life, that you’re pushing me away. I’m so tired of trying and getting nowhere with you. What the hell happened to us?”

“Nothing happened.” He rolled on his back and gazed at you. “You’re overreacting.” He wore a bored expression, one that you’d seen on his face a million times when you’d argued with him before. He wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions or saying how he was feeling, and it made your blood boil.

“I’m overreacting? At least I’m telling you how I feel instead of bottling it up. You make me feel like I’m insane sometimes.” You swiped at your eyes with your fingers to wipe away the tears that were pouring out of them. “I can't live like this anymore.”

He stared at you, emotionless as usual. “That’s fine. You won’t have to. I’ll leave tomorrow.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly shut it when he rolled over again away from you. You didn’t really mean it, you just wanted him to talk to you, to tell you what he was thinking. He wasn’t being serious, was he?

When you woke in the morning to get ready for work, he’d already left. And when you came home that afternoon, his things were gone.

You called him over and over, leaving him voicemails, texting him. He never replied. 

When your shaky hands picked up your phone and clicked on his contact name, you didn’t expect him to answer. 

“Hello?”

You drew in a breath, your eyes closing as you held back tears. “Shouto?”

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You wanted to laugh. “No.”

“Are you hurt? What’s going on?” The panic in his voice was foreign to you. After all these months of your desperate attempts to reach him, why did he pick up now? 

“It’s 2 am, I know that, but…” You closed your eyes. “I need you.”

You heard him huff an annoyed breath. “Have you been drinking?”

You ignored him. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“Y/N…” 

“I loved you. I still love you. I never stopped. I just missed you, and it was like you were getting further and further away from me and I…” You trailed off, trying to gather your thoughts. “I just wanted to feel like you needed me as much as I needed you.”

He sighed. “This was all my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong I just…” He paused like he was trying to find the words. “I pushed you away. This is all on me, okay? I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

“Come over…”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”  He breathed out and sniffled. “It’s not good for you. You need to move on, Y/N.”

“I don’t-“

“I’m never going to be able to be what you need. I need to work on some things...I just didn’t want to drag you down with me.” You heard the sound of shuffling on his end, the sheets on a bed that you’d never shared and probably never would. “If I come over there now it will only make things worse.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“I’m doing you a favor.” You were both quiet, listening to each other breathing. 

“It doesn’t feel like a favor.” 

He took a deep breath. “You know I’m not very good at...talking about this stuff.”

You knew he was emotionally stunted. It wasn’t a secret that his home life growing up was less than stellar. He seemed to have had made peace with what happened to him, and was cordial with his father even though he didn’t deserve it. He always strived to be better than him, he had promised you he would show you all the love and care his father had never shown him or his siblings or his mother, that he refused to become what he hated.

But the fact that he grew up without a good example of a healthy, loving relationship was apparent in the way he treated yours.

You hiccuped, your words slurring slightly. “What were you so afraid of? Why did you push me away?”

“You’re drunk, I’m not talking to you about this-”

“Shouto Todoroki, you’re a coward! You were so afraid to open up to me and let me fucking love you-” You swallowed, closing your eyes again as the room started spinning. “Fuck you.”

“Y/N-”

“No, you don’t get to talk anymore!” You cut him off again, feeling your heart clenching painfully in your chest. “I wish I didn’t love you. I wish I was over this.” You were quiet for a moment, your breathing ragged. “You broke my heart, you know.”

He didn’t say anything, but you could hear him breathing on the line.

“I shouldn’t have called you, but I miss the way it used to be before you got all in your head thinking you weren’t enough for me, or whatever dumbass excuse you’re going to feed me. I don’t want to hear it.” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said finally, his voice low and defeated.

Tired of his repeated apologies that were getting you nowhere, you sighed. “Me too.”

You hung up, throwing the phone aside and turning your face into the pillows. You tried to breathe deeply, to hold back the tears that had been streaming down your face steadily since you heard his voice again after so long.

It felt like closure though, finally knowing that you weren’t to blame. He was fucked up. There was nothing you could do to fix that, not anymore. It was out of your hands the moment he left.

But a part of you still clung to the hope that someday when you called him like this in the middle of the night and asked him to come over, he would say yes.

[megs-readstoomuch]

Newest installment in my “Shadowhunters: Parenthood Edition” stories. The rest can be found on AO3 HERE!!!

Happy Birthday Reesa!

Jace woke up earlier than usual. He stretched and immediately turned his head to check on Clary, as he always did when he awakened. She was still asleep, red hair fanned out on her pillow and the quietest of snores coming from her mouth. Jace grinned. She never believed him when he said she snored, but honestly, he found it adorable, so he didn’t complain that much. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment to breathe her in. He smiled and gave her one more quick, light kiss.

Jace slid quietly from the bed and went about his morning routine of shaving and dressing. As he sat to put his socks and boots on, he heard her. She was humming the lullaby Jace had played her last night before bed, as he did every night. The song his Mom had sang to him and his siblings when they were young. With a smile, Jace went into the nursery and found his daughter standing in her crib, the morning sun slowly turning the room a warm gold. Reesa’s strawberry blond curls were wild from her night’s sleep and stood out like a cloud around her head. She had a thumb in her mouth and was still humming their song, but broke into a smile when she saw Jace.

“Hi Dada!” She waved her hand excitedly as if they were seeing each other again after a long journey. Jace lifted her from the crib, kissing each cheek. She laughed and patted his face.

“How is my girl?” Jace said as he proceeded to change her sleeper. He picked out one of the bright, colorful rompers Magnus and Clary kept her closet filled with and started dressing her. She wiggled as she waited on him to finish the snaps and buttons. “Guess what Reesa?”

The little girl blinked at him in response, as he tried to tame her curls a little with the tiny hair clips Clary bought. “Today is your first birthday. It is a big day. You’ve been here with Mama and Daddy a whole year. You are one.” He surveyed his work. Dang, he was getting good at this hair thing.

“I’m one.” Reesa said, watching as he proceeded to put her shoes on. He let her fasten the Velcro tabs herself. “All done!” She held her hands out.

“Excellent work.” Jace complimented her, lifting her down off the changing table and stood her on the floor.

“Where Mama?” Reesa asked as Jace careful put her favorite old stele of his in the pocket of her romper.

“Mama is sleeping. It’s just you and me this morning.” Jace answered her. “Shall we have breakfast?” He held out his hand. She slipped a tiny soft hand into his callused, scarred one and Jace felt his heart swell again with joy over having this little girl in his life.

“Mama sleeping.” Reesa said. “Ssssh.” She twisted her face into a comical shush and pressed a finger to her lips. Jace grinned at her.

“Exactly.”

———

There were only a handful of people in the dining hall this early, as it was barely 5 o’clock. Jace liked it this way though. Mostly those present were coming in late off of patrol, bleary eyed and exhausted. But despite that, each one perked up a little at the sight of the toddler in her bright pink romper, with the butterfly clips in her hair. She always waved at everyone as she and Jace moved through to find a table to sit at.

Reesa refused a high chair on the grounds she was “nota baby”, instead kneeling in the chair next to Jace, happily eating her bacon. Jace nursed his cup of coffee and just watched her. He couldn’t believe it had been a year since she arrived. He still remembered it, he had never been so scared and happy. And now look at her. One year old.

He pushed away the ever present worry about her “Angel gifts” as the family called them. She was just one, but she functioned more like a 2yo. She was quick and smart, speaking in small sentences already. She could jump and run faster than your average child, quick with all her reflexes and motor skills too. She was also taller than average. Aside from all this and a predilection for being found constantly leaping off of the top of Jace’s baby grand and landing perfectly every time, she had yet to exhibit any other manifestations of her pure Angel blood inheritance. Jace still wondered if she would have any of Clary’s gifts. Tessa often hinted that there would be more to Reesa than she had shown them so far.

“More please.” A tiny voice cut into Jace’s thoughts. Reesa had finished her bacon and eggs and was looking expectantly at Jace. “More bacon.”

“Alright, but just two more, ok?” Jace answered her, raising up from his chair.

“Okey doke,” she said, picking her orange juice up with both hands. He chuckled.

———

Clary found them in the office after she had woken and had her own breakfast. Jace at his desk and Reesa on his lap, as usual. He was flicking through night patrol reports on his tablet and Reesa was concentrating on drawing runes on a notepad, her tiny tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Hi Mama!” Reesa cried, wiggling off of Jace’s knee to run around the desk and into Clary’s arms.

“Hi, my baby,” Clary kissed her on the cheek and then blew a raspberry against the soft skin. Reesa giggled. “Happy Birthday!”

“I’m one!” Reesa held up one finger proudly.

“Yes, you are! And we are going to have a party for you,” Clary kissed the outstretched index finger.

“A party?” Reesa crinkled her forehead in confusion.

“A party?” Jace made the same face.

Clary smiled at the resemblance. “Uncle Magnus is planning a party for your birthday. With cake!”

The one year old’s eye lit up. “CAKE!” She yelled, wiggling to be put down so she could run around her mother in a happy gallop while continuing to yell about cake.

“It will be at 5 this evening,” Clary told Jace over Reesa’s yells. “I already asked Underhill to cover your patrol so the whole family can be there.” Jace frowned a little. He hated to ask favors of the other Shadowhunters, even if he was the Co-Head of the Institute. Clary walked around the desk and sat on the arm of his chair. “It’s for Reesa’s birthday. Underhill was happy to do it. And you can cover his next patrol to make up for it, he said.”

Jace’s brow smoothed out. “Well, that does seems more fair.” Clary kissed his cheek and then leaned against him as they watched their daughter dance happily around the room.

———

“I think Magnus made the apartment bigger to fit everyone,” Alec whispered to Jace as they walked into the living room from the kitchen.

“You think? Because I don’t remember there being two bathrooms in the hallway,” Jace pointed out. “Or that hatrack. Tell me that’s not anyone we know, by the way.”

“Dang it, you’re right,” Alec agreed, ignoring the query about the hatrack and sipping from his plastic cup. He made a face. “What is this?”

“Something called punch,” Jace eyed his own pink drink warily. He didn’t like pink drinks in general . “Jocelyn insisted it is what mundanes drink at birthday parties.”

“By the Angel, why?” Alec muttered, quickly dumping the rest of the drink in the ficus behind him (that he was pretty sure hadn’t been there this morning).

“No idea,” Jace said, tossing back the last dredges in his cup and swallowing.

“You still drank it?”

Jace raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever known me to reject food or drink?”

“Fair enough,” Alec said.

Clary came over with two bottles in hand. “Here. Have some water. That punch is as gosh-awful as it was when I was kid.” The two men gratefully accepted the drinks.

A crash came from the kids’ room. The parents all turned, waiting for any cries of distress.

“Everything’s fine!”shouted Rafe. Alec raised an eyebrow.

“I think I’ll check anyway,” he shook his head and went down the now extra long hall to his sons’ room where Rafe and Max were “fighting demins”, according to Max.

Clary slid her arms around Jace’s waist and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. They looked around the room.

Jocelyn, Kadir, and Maryse were chatting in the corner, the every present dried paint visible on the back of Jocelyn’s hand and around her nails as she made a gesture in the air. Maryse nodded to whatever was being said and politely sipped from her cup, making no face but Jace knew his mother enough to see in her eyes what she thought of “punch”. He bit his lip to keep from smiling. Kadir was very focused on Jocelyn’s story, his own hands suspiciously empty.

Luke and Simon bookended the sofa, a 4-month pregnant Isabelle with the start of a baby bump sitting between them. All three were discussing a new weapon the Iron Sisters had sent to the Institute this week. Simon was particularly excited, waving his hands about. Isabelle rubbed her bump and watched him in amusement.

Tess and Jem were sitting on the loveseat, Reesa sitting on Tessa’s lap and talking with them. She was making some of the same gestures with her hands that Jocelyn was making and Tessa nodded encouragingly at her. Mina was sitting in the floor, leaning against her father’s legs with a surprisingly content Chairman Meow on her lap, bedazzling his fur with sparks of magic from her fingers.

Magnus was busily waltzing around the dining room, flashes of magic visible as he finished placing copious amounts of purple, pink, and blue streamers and balloons around a banner that said, “Happy Birthday Baby Biscuit”. Alec had gently pointed out no one else called Reesa that but Magnus had merely kissed him firmly and said, “I make the party rules.” Alec had said nothing more and left him to his decorating.

“You know,” Jace mused. “I never had family around for birthdays until I my 11th. And that wasn’t even my birthday, as we now know. And really by the time you get your first rune, it’s downplayed. Shadowhunters don’t do parties much. Just a cake if everyone is around. But the Institute was always empty. And of course I didn’t have anyone else...before. I got a gift or a wish as you know, but it wasn’t the same as this. I like this. Except maybe the punch.”

“I do too. I like birthdays. I had my first kiss on my 16th birthday, you know,” Clary gave him a saucy grin. Jace shot her a look that made her stomach flip. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You better stop, Mrs. Herondale. I’m not a well-behaved man.” Clary giggled.

“Alright you two, stop it,” Alec rolled his eyes at them, coming down the hall with his son’s following behind him like baby ducks, each carrying a fake weapon of some sort, the two boys in their miniature gear jackets that they played in. Both their cheeks were red from their “battle” but they looked pleased with themselves.

“And the crash?” Clary asked.

“Bookshelf. Magnus will have to sort it,” Alec shook his head. Rafe and Max looked properly contrite, although Clary knew them enough to know they weren’t really. She winked at them.

“Time for cake!” Magnus announced and everyone gathered in the dining room. Reesa was given the seat of honor and a rounding chorus of “Happy Birthday” was sang. She sang along, much to everyone’s amusement.

She carefully blew out her candle, and Max relit it so he could blow it out too. Reesa found this hilarious, so Max and Mina kept relighting it until everyone had blown out the candle and Magnus finally had to remove the stub from the cake before a second round of candle blowing was started.

The cake was, of course, delicious. Magnus hinted strongly that it had came from France.

“I left money in the till,” He hastened to add before anyone said anything. “But our babies have to have the best cake.”

Clary watched as Reesa picked up her plate and licked the frosting off. “I think you chose well,” she said. Jocelyn shook her head in amusement and cleaned the chocolate off of Reesa’s nose and eyebrows.

“Bapak! Present time! Present time!” Max was bouncing in excitement as Rafe carried in the gift.

Magnus placed the brightly wrapped present in front of a wide-eyes Reesa who looked at him expectantly. “Magic?” She asked.

With a smile, Magnus snapped his fingers and the paper and ribbon unfurled to reveal a tiny gear jacket of her own. Reesa squealed. “On! Now!” She demanded.

Clary complied, slipping it over her bright pink romper and zipping it up. Reesa rubbed her hands over the jacket in amazement. Jace squatted next to her chair and adjusted the collar.

“Can you say thank you to everyone?” He prompted her gently.

“Thank you Unca Alec and Unca Magnus,” she whispered, still in awe. “And Nana and Papa and Gran’ma and Kad and Unca Simon and Ant Izzy and Max and Rafe and Jem and Nonna Tessa and Mina.” The adult all smiled as the little girl listed her whole family.

Alec smiled and knelt next to Jace. “Look,” he showed the little girl the pocket for her stele, tucking it in for her.

“You’re ready to fight now, Baby Biscuit,” Magnus said.

Max and Rafe bounced around her. “Yeah, we are all ready now!”

“Me too,” Mina cried, sending golden sparks through the air as she jumped down to dance with the boys.

“Well then, how about you all go train outside,” Magnus directed, snapping his fingers to cover every surface of the spacious balcony with large soft training mats, a low balance beam, and wooden swords. Reesa gave a suspiciously high jump off her chair and landed next to Rafe. He grabbed her hand and the four children ran outside.

———

The grownups sat down to enjoy decent, less sugary food (courtesy of Simon’s sister Rebecca’s restaurant, which Magnus used as often as he could) and watch the kids through the large windows. The punch had mysteriously disappeared (Jace wasn’t going to point fingers, but he suspected his mother had instigated a punch-removal directive to Kadir), so Magnus produced “adult drinks”.

Jace stood next to the window, watching the children play. Reesa was observing Rafe, who was showing Mina how to balance on the balance beam while holding her hand. When they were done, Reesa tried too, but refused assistance. She managed to walk it as easily as if she were on the ground and even did a large jump at the end.

“She’s good.” Jem had come up beside him, his eyes on his daughter who was comparing magic colors with Max. They were shooting little sparks in the air, and Reesa was laughing as they landed on her hair and arms.

“She is,” Jace said, a mix of pride and worry in his voice.

“Having a child with a gift you can’t exactly understand, it’s not easy,” Jem admitted. Jace looked at him, realizing Jem was a former Shadowhunter, with a half shadowhunter-half warlock wife and a child with an odd mix of warlock and shadowhunter blood.

“I don’t care about her gifts so much anymore, I just want her to be happy,” Jace said quietly. “I wasn’t, as a child. I want her to be more than just her gifts.”

“I remember you,” Jem mused. “You were the quietest, most composed, well-trained, and polite 10 year old I had ever met.”

“The ship. The attack by the werewolves on that ship the night I came to live with the Lightwoods.” Jace looked surprised. “I had forgotten, that was the first time we met, wasn’t it? I used your staff. The one with WH carved on it.”

“Yes. Your gifts were very visible that day, I just didn’t see them clearly. I’m sorry you weren’t happy, though.”

“I was later. I found part of my happiness with the Lightwoods. And the rest,” Jace’s eyes searched out Clary, laughing with Tessa and her mother near the fireplace. “The rest with Clary. And now with Reesa.”

“I understand,” Jem replied. And he did. He knew the fulfillment of happiness that came with love. With Will, with Tessa, with Mina and Kit. He saw that same completion in Jace now, what had been missing all those years ago when he had been the solemn and determined child with those golden eyes and that Herondale recklessness that had reminded Jem of Will even then.

The two men watched as Mina and Reesa joined hands to run away from Max and for a moment, it seemed like Reesa’s eyes glimmered and Mina’s fingers sparked a brighter gold and they seemed to be moving faster than they should have been. He blinked and it was gone. Jace’s brow was slightly furrowed , as if he had seen something as well.

“I think...those two may be trouble together,” Jem said.

“A Herondale and a Carstairs? Definitely. I’ve heard the stories from Tessa.” Jace laughed and Jem joined him.

“Oh yes. Will and I.” Jem smiled at the memories. “Will and Tessa’s daughter Lucie, her parabatai was also a Carstairs. Their son’s was a Fairchild.”

“Herondales, Carstairs, Lightwoods, and Fairchilds. Chaos and mayhem since the beginning, is what you’re saying?” Jace queried.

“Yes,” Jem confirmed. The two men stood in silence for a moment, watching the children play.

“Mundanes have gifted children too, you know.” Jem murmured. “But I think it means they are better at things like math and reading.” Jace looked bemused at this. Reesa turned and saw him watching her. She waved. He waved back.

“I can’t wait to see what they do,” Jace said softly. Jem nodded in agreement.

“I think,” Jem paused as Reesa and Mina joined hands again, their black and golden-red heads bent together to listen to Rafe and Max. “I think they’ll change the world.”

[mediaevalmusereads]

Wicked and the Wallflower. By Sarah MacLean. New York: Avon, 2018.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Bareknuckle Bastards #1

Summary: When a mysterious stranger finds his way into her bedchamber and offers his help in landing a duke, Lady Felicity Faircloth agrees—on one condition. She's seen enough of the world to believe in passion, and won't accept a marriage without it. Bastard son of a duke and king of London's dark streets, Devil has spent a lifetime wielding power and seizing opportunity, and the spinster wallflower is everything he needs to exact a revenge years in the making. All he must do is turn the plain little mouse into an irresistible temptress, set his trap, and destroy his enemy. But there's nothing plain about Felicity Faircloth, who quickly decides she'd rather have Devil than another. Soon, Devil's carefully laid plans are in chaos, and he must choose between everything he's ever wanted...and the only thing he's ever desired.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, blood, violence, threat of sexual assault, references to child abuse and disfiguring

Overview: I wasn’t a fan of MacLean’s A Rogue By Any Other Name, but I figured I’d give the author another shot and read something a little more recent. While I didn’t enjoy everything about this book, I did like it much better, and most of my complaints are probably personal preferences (rather than anything MacLean did wrong). I’m primarily giving this book 4 stars because I think MacLean did a good job making the romance more substantive and the plot more high-stakes, but I refrain from awarding it 5 stars because the hero was a bit too edge lord for my tastes.

Writing: MacLean’s prose is quick and to-the-point, which I think many romance readers will appreciate. It is easy to get through and sets the scene pretty well, and there weren’t really any moments where I felt like I needed more context or more support to understand what was going on.

Despite not having a clever structure like the use of epistles to break up the narrative, I have to give MacLean credit for using her themes well. At one point, the hero tells the heroine the story of Janus and a lover named Cardea, and I felt like the themes of past, present, and future were paralleled really well in the way the romance ended up going down. I also really liked the way Felicity’s lockpicks acted as a metaphor for a lot of social phenomena, and the way darkness and light enhanced the implications of some of the action.

I think the only complaints I have concern the prologue and the pace of the first 100 pages or so, and even these are minor. First, the prologue: the prologue sets the stage for the entirety of the Bareknuckle Bastards series, which is fine, in itself. After describing the birth of 3 bastard male offspring and 1 legitimate female offspring to a powerful duke desperate for an heir, MacLean focuses on the daughter’s power from infancy to womanhood for about a paragraph before she turns away from her and says “hers is a story for another time. This story begins with the boys.” I thought it was strange to set up the novel as “there’s this really powerful woman... but we’re ignoring her for now to focus on the boys.” It felt odd, and felt like a privileging of male stories over female ones.

Second, the pace. It took a little while for the plot proper to get going, in mu opinion, because the first 100 pages or so were filled with a lot of conversations. Granted, some of these conversations establish character relationships, which is fine, but there were points where I felt like the pace could have been sped up. The heroine’s first lengthy conversation with her mother and brother, for example, felt drawn out, and some of the initial conversations between Devil and Felicity could have been condensed. But that’s just my opinion - I’m sure others will disagree.

Plot: Aside from the romance, most of the plot of this book involves a number of complex schemes. The summary, in my opinion, doesn’t quite paint an accurate picture. Felicity, an aging, plain-looking, semi-outcast spinster, struggles to find a husband after being caught up in a number of minor scandals. As a result of these scandals, her “friends” have deserted her and distanced themselves from her by calling her names and belittling her (often to her face). In a fit of anger and frustration, Felicity tells them she is engaged to the Duke of Marwick - a man she has never met, but is the ton’s most eligible bachelor at the moment. Gossip quickly spreads, and Felicity realizes she has risked permanent ruination if the duke publicly denies their engagement.

Marwick, however, happens to be one of the 3 male bastard offspring of the previous duke, but no one (not even Felicity) knows that. He’s in the market for a wife so he can produce heirs and solidify his hold on his title. Devil, Marwick’s bastard brother, wants to get revenge on him, not just because Marwick took the title and did nothing to help his siblings, but because of a number of things from their past (which I won’t spoil). Upon finding Felicity by chance, Devil strikes a bargain with her: Devil will convince Marwick to marry her in exchange for a favor, which he will cash in at some point in the future. Felicity agrees, but Devil never intends for Felicity and Marwick to marry; his plan is to instead use Felicity to humiliate his brother, primarily by seducing and ruining her before the wedding. Doing so will send the message that Devil will always be the one with the power to undercut his brother’s happiness. It’s a little petty, but there it is.

All that being said, Devil doesn’t so much teach Felicity to be a temptress as he does engage in a power struggle using Felicity as a pawn. While it’s true that Felicity demands that her union with Marwick be not just a marriage of convenience, but one where Marwick burns with passion for her, Devil is less of an instructor and more of a person who pulls strings behind the scenes. Unbeknownst to Felicity, Marwick has already agreed to marry her without Devil’s influence, in part because he doesn’t care for the women of the ton; he’s only after a marriage of convenience. When he learns that Devil intends to meddle in his affairs, he becomes set on marrying Felicity for no other reason than to show his brother who is more powerful. Devil, on the other hand, falls for Felicity and has to choose between his personal happiness and ruining his brother.

It feels complicated and petty, and it kind of is, but I honestly felt there was enough conflict there to avoid thinking that the only barrier to the main couple’s union was personal reservations. Felicity had enough social pressure on her (from society and from her family) to try to make an advantageous match, and Devil was questionable enough in character where a union with him would put Felicity and her family’s reputation (further) at risk. Devil also had enough of a conflict between his own wishes and his vendettas for the angst to be interesting.

Characters: Felicity, our heroine, is a witty, stubborn woman who displays exceptional lockpicking skills. At first, I wasn’t sure I would like her, but I think MacLean does a good job ensuring that Felicity is constantly pushing Devil and constantly insisting on her own agency, instead of just buckling at the first hint of arousal. I also felt that the lockpicking would be some kind of empty quirk at first, like an empty gesture to female agency, but I actually though MacLean ended up using it well, having it be a commentary on female societal constraints as well as the saving grace in the final showdown.

Devil, our hero, was complex enough to be interesting, but a little too edgy for my personal taste. While I liked that he had a past that informed his actions in the present, and he was ruthless without being cruel, he did have some moments that turned me off. His jealousy, for one, was mostly fine because he never acted on it, but I still disliked that his first thought was violence whenever another man so much as looked at Felicity. I also think he was a bit too self-hating, as he constantly brought up the fact that he was “raised in darkness” or whatever, and while fine sometimes, it got old and repetitive. And finally, there were moments where he tried to control Felicity’s actions, and while I understand that some of them were born out of concern for her safety, I still hated how constantly he would yell about her not being where she should be. I will praise MacLean, though, for making Devil a character who put Felicity’s emotions and desires ahead of his own (to a point). One of the big problems I had with Bourne in A Rogue By Any Other Name was his selfishness, and I feel like Devil was a good mixture of selfish (by way of his desire for revenge) and selfless (by way of his love for Felicity).

I also really liked that we got to see Devil at work in his smuggling business. Too often, I feel like I’m told that a character is bad or a criminal, and I don’t really get to see them hard at work or their business playing an important role in their lives. Unlike Bourne, who seemed ashamed of his business to some extent, Devil is really invested, and I liked that Felicity was able to find good things about the smuggling operation, such as loyalty between the workers and the money it brought to poor neighborhoods.

Side characters also felt way more interesting and complex. Felicity’s family, for example, were flawed without being evil, and I liked the arc where her family had to come to terms with all the pressure they put on her. Devil’s siblings were also fairly well-developed, with thoughts and opinions on the romance that enriched the story rather than distracted from it. I also liked that Marwick was “evil” without being a caricature, and I almost felt like I understood and could possibly forgive his actions up until the final showdown. All in all, I think most characters worked, and nothing felt too empty or shallow.

Romance: When all’s said and done, I feel like Devil and Felicity had good chemistry, and MacLean handled their romance very well. In part, I think I took to this romance so well because MacLean emphasized emotion over sexual attraction. I generally dislike it when romances treat sexual attraction as the main driver of the romance, so they lay it on thick in a way that feels ridiculous. Though there was some sexual attraction in this book, MacLean put more weight behind the emotional connection by showing a lot of banter. Felicity’s and Devil’s banter not only showed off their personalities, but showed how Felicity was able to hold her own and keep surprising Devil. While I did feel that Devil could be a little controlling at times, I ultimately think MacLean did enough work to show Felicity rejecting his influence and consistently pushing boundaries (in a way that wasn’t problematic), thereby establishing them as equals.

I also really liked that both characters enriched the other’s emotional lives, and their arcs mirrored one another. Felicity is extremely insecure about her plainness, and Devil is fairly insecure about his criminality and lack of good social standing. Together, they help one another realize that they are worth something and are good enough, just the way they are. I really love it when romances do this because it shows that the romance is based on something other than physical attraction or the fact that a hero was nice once.

And as a side note, I also loved that Devil insisted on Felicity’s consent whenever they engaged in sexual activity. I never got the feeling that either partner was pushing the other to do things that they weren’t 100% into. The only thing that came relatively close was the scene when Felicity asked Devil to have penetrative sex with her, and he initially refuses because he doesn’t want to ruin her. She does push the issue a little, but I read that more as her making the decision for herself about whether or not to be “ruined,” not as her making Devil do something he was reluctant on doing for personal reasons.

TL;DR: Despite featuring a fairly edgy hero, Wicked and the Wallflower is an emotionally-satisfying romance with a clever use of thematic elements, such as past/present/future, light/dark, and locked doors/lockpicking.

[being-multishiper-be-like]

1) Midam week- Firsts

Word count: 1,8k

Tags: angst, apologizing, arguing, declaration of love, hurt/comfort, 

@midam-week

At first, there was loneliness, it was just him and his father in the universe. Some could think, that it was perfect for developing at least a decent father-son relationship, but his dad was never there. Not really. Then suddenly he had had a lot of younger siblings, so he unwillingly had to put himself aside, his siblings came first. Then the Fall happened. He’s lost two of his dearest brothers. Dealing with it took a lot of time and unfortunately also a lot of his personality. To numb the pain he had to lock it up, including the parts of himself that were linked to it. Since then he’s been acting particularly cold. For a long time loving something meant getting hurt for him. It actually still does...

And then Lucifer broke free. When he found out, he immediately did the only sane thing he could, he picked up the only vessel from the Winchester bloodline, that was willing to say yes to him- Adam Milligan, John Winchester’s youngest son. Although he did everything he could, he knew, more trouble is about to come. But ending up in the Cage himself was beyond his definition of trouble. If he was allowed to do so he would say it all fucked up. But he couldn’t. He was always the good son and saying such a bad word would mean he’s lost his faith, it would mean he’s as much traitor as Lucifer is. So he couldn’t do it, because his faith was the only thing that was keeping him at least partly sane.

Before all of this mess, Adam lived in a small town in Minnesota. He had a normal life, or at least as normal as a child who sees his dad once every few years can have. He didn’t even consider him his dad, it was just a stranger who would show up every now and then and talking shit that didn’t make sense. So although they couldn’t be more different, they somehow had a lot in common even before Adam was born.

And then Adam died and got into heaven. It was an awesome and peaceful few months. It all changed, when he said yes. That’s how he became Michael’s vessel and ended up in the Cage.

***

“How could I be so stupid? How could I thought you’d be enough?! This is all your fault!” Once again was Michael screaming at Adam for things that weren’t his fault. He started to get used to it. At least he thought so after every Michael’s lashing out. But when a new one came, he always stood there petrified. He, deep down, knew the archangel wasn’t actually angry at him, he was angry at Lucifer but mainly at himself. It wasn’t because of Adam. It was because he wanted revenge.

Adam never responded. What should he even say, when the oldest archangel was blaming him for his utter incompetence to fight in a war, that wasn’t meant for humans. He even sometimes thought of how he wanted to switch places with Sam. Because the pain he got, what he didn’t understand was Michael. He was confused (read: terrified) of him.

But that also wasn’t the worst. The worst came after Michael was done yelling at him. He would draw him closer, wrap his wings around him, and with a face buried in his hair whisper how everything will be okay, how they’ll get out. In those moments Adam desperately wanted out of his reach, but the only alternative was the Devil himself. He felt he’d sooner or later snap. It mortified him because he could imagine the consequences it would have. But the centuries of emotional abuse started to show. So he wasn’t even surprised when it happened.

***

“I hate you! If it wasn’t for you I could be in heaven and not in this prison! I could-”

“Enough! You know, I too would be in heaven right now if it wasn’t for you and your inability to sort your family stuff! Look, all family has something! But it doesn’t give you the right to push your problems onto other people!” Michael was as petrified as Adam before the roles switched. He had no idea what to say. And when, after what felt like a couple of millennia, he rediscovered his voice, he said just one sentence.

“You have no idea what are you talking about...” It barely found its way through his trembling lips.

“Oh, enlighten me then. My mother was just a fling for John. When he found out he got her pregnant he didn’t even bother to show up in person, just sent a stupid message of how he’ll take care of us. I first saw him when I was twelve, though. And after two days he disappeared for another two years. He may have been my father, but he was never my dad. He gives a shit about me!” After that there was silence. Both of them processed what the other one said and what it meant for them. Suddenly Michael’s mental walls begun to give up. Those feelings he locked up all those years ago flooded on the surface and showed the real him.

“You think you’re the only one?! Although I’m the firstborn, the rightful heir of the throne, I was never my dad’s favorite. Lucifer was. Even after the Fall! Anything I did was never good enough! When I fought for his attention, he started ignoring me and the more he ignored me the more I tried until he punished me. And when I ignored him, I was ungrateful. Either way, the only thing he saw was me trying to destroy Heaven. Although all of it I never misbehaved, never betrayed him. Because I’m a good son. And this is what I got?! He left us! He left me! And I tried to rule the kingdom of Heaven instead of my father, but I didn’t know how, because he never told me how. Everyday things have gotten worse. And then there’s you, a weak pathetic human being who only knows how to whine and complain! If you haven’t noticed I have my own problems and I don’t have time for disrespectful kids! Now-”

“I. Said. Enough! You think the Sun shines outta your ass?! Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it doesn’t. I know you’re angry and you hate me but-”

“I don’t hate you,” whispered Michael almost inaudibly, but it still was able to make Adam go silent for a moment. It didn’t take him long to recover, though.

“I beg your pardon? If you do this to a person you don’t hate, I don’t want to know how you act with people you love. Sometimes I just wish you’d kill me, so I don’t have to spend another millennium fearing you, sometimes I think you’re even better torturer than Lucifer could ever be. And now you dare to tell me you don’t fucking hate me?! Honestly if you’d kill me, you’d do us both a favor...” Adam turned around so Michael wouldn’t see his tears. He promised himself Michael won’t make him cry again approximately two centuries ago and now he’s breaking his promise, which led to even more tears. Before he knew it he was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe.

“It wasn’t meant like this, I’m so sorry Adam, please, I’m sorry. I never realize how much was I hurting you. But I can make things better, please let me make everything right.” He gave Adam time to calm himself, not stepping closer, afraid, he could make it even worse.

“Don’t you see it? There’s no making it better, it’s too late. At first, I thought we could get along, but then you started treating me like a rag doll.” said Adam, still with his back turned to the archangel. Suddenly he felt soft touch creep around his arms and torso. Before he could understand what’s happening, Michael was hugging him from behind. “I made a lot of mistakes, and now it seems I can’t bear the consequences,” whispered Michael to his right ear. Adam shivered and tried to get himself out of his grip, but there was no point in it. Michael was too strong.

“C- can you explain one thing?” Asked Adam and continued without waiting for a response. “Why did you act every time so differently? It was like being here with two Michaels. The first one was gentle and caring, and the second one scared the crap outta me. Why Michael?” The archangel stiffened, but it seemed as if he was actually thinking of a reply.

“Why, you ask. Because I’m a coward.” They fell into silence for a moment. Adam was grateful for it because it gave him a little time to at least try to send that one word to his brain to comprehend. Coward. He didn’t think an archangel can be so self-conscious. “I was so afraid of getting close to another living being, that I tried to scare you away, but the more I did, the more I, well, craved. I sometimes tried to do everything to make this place at least slightly better for you. And that I got angry for allowing myself such a weakness, so I started screaming at you. You did nothing bad I just didn’t know how to handle my feelings.” Michael's speech, or more like a confession, made Adam turn in his arms and look straightly into his eyes.

“Wait for a second, You were acting like a dick for centuries just because you couldn’t handle your own feelings?! Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?! And now you don’t even have the audacity to say you love me. Well, that’s awesome, fucking awesome. And now you expect what? That I’m gonna tell you that I love you too, that I forgive you, that you’re the one? It doesn’t work like this. Sorry. Now let me go, would you?” Michael let go of him as if his words burned him. Well, maybe they did. He looks sheepish as if he didn’t know whether to go or defend himself. He almost turned around, when- “And if I’d say I love you, would that make it any different? If yes, then, Adam Milligan, I love you very much and I apologize for how I treated you. Now I think it would be better for both of us if I let you some space.” Then he turned around for the second time, and, just like the first time, he never finished the movement because Adam caught his hand and spun him to his arms. He didn’t even need to say something, the gesture was more than enough...

[robbiekaysfavoritelostgirl]

The Hybrid

Pairing: Jacob Black x hybridCullen 

               Edward Cullen x hybridCullen 

               Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Plot: You are the last witch of your kind, you were turned after you vampire father decided to get back at your mother. In a effort to throurt him your grandmother transferred the magic of the entire coven over to you, so that when you woke a vampire you would have access to your magic but had the speed, heightened senses and immortality . After a century you meet Carlisle and agree to join his family. Everyone thought that you and Edward were going to end up married until he met Bella. You were left heartbroken until you meet a certain wolf. 

Fandom: Twilight

A/n: So this is what inspired my story “The Hybrid” so I had to do it. Also the pairing only refers to the certain part. The pairings crossed out are the ones that will come in another part. This is only part one. 

        “Does this town ever change?” I moaned, my head falling against the cool window as I continued to stare blankly at the never ending sea of green that lay outside. 

   “Of course it does, there wasn’t a high school last time we were here.” Edward laughed, reaching over for my hand, lifting it so he could press a kiss against my knuckles. I sighed, rolling my eyes softly as I leaned over to press my lip against his own.  

    “Hey now! Don’t distract him, I don’t want to die because you two feel like having a makeout session while driving.” Emmett laughed, grinning widely at me as I turned to face him. 

   “Aww don’t worry Em, if were to crash I would make sure to save Rose and Edward.” 

   “Oh well that’s wonderful and all but what about me?” Emmett demanded. 

  “Oh sweet Emmett I am only but a witch, I can not save you all.”I giggled, ducking as he aimed a playful punch my way. The moment he did Edward let out a snarl, despite knowing fully well that Emmett would never actually apply enough force to harm me. He was full aware that as part human, I was much more vulnerable than the rest of our siblings. 

   “Easy Edward, I’m not going to harm her. Do you really think I want to spend the next century listening to you, Esme, Carlisle, Alice and Nik yelling at me?” Emmett sighed. “Not that I would the chance. If she gets out of this car in less than perfect condition her twin will eat me for dinner.”

    “I can defend myself you know.” I laughed, smiling wickedly as I snapped my fingers, causing a flame to appear in my hand. I turned it over, watching as the flame wrapped itself harmlessly over my skin. 

   “Will you stop that!” All three of them hissed, Edward reaching over to pull my hand, which I had unconsciously lifted up towards the window, back down. At once I let the flame die out and glanced at the three others in the car. 

   “Sorry, I forgot people may actually be able to see us.” I muttered, biting my lip as I glanced shyly at them. Rose was the first to sigh, shaking her head softly and giving me a small warm smile in return. 

    “It’s not that, no one is around us to see and if anyone did you could easily deal with that.” Rose said quickly, leaning forward so she was between Edward and I. “It’s us. Seeing you in flames, even ones that we know you can control, scare us.” 

   “I keep forgetting that. I have never seen a vampire be destroyed, so it’s so easy for me to forget. My coven never knew how to destroy us.” I sighed, kicking myself mentally forgetting that fire was a sure fire way to keep us dead. 

   “We know and we will work very hard to insure that it’s something you never have to witness.” Edward vowed, reaching over to squeeze my hand gently. 

  “Just do us all a favor and forget that spell exists.” Emmett sighed. “If it wasn’t already stopped, you would have given me a heart attack.” 

   “Right, fire spell is no longer a thing.” I promised, earning a relieved smile from all three of my vampires. 

 ~~~ 

     “You know, I have to admit. I miss this view.” I sighed, curling myself into Edward’s side. He chuckled, running his finger tips over my exposed flesh, the feeling causing me to shiver with delight. There really was nothing better than his touch. 

    “Hmm it’s a nice view. I mean nothing compared to the one I currently have, but nice enough.” He answered, smiling at me as I lifted my head from his shoulder. He was staring at me, laying naked against his side, my knee positioned over his hips, his free hand making a trail from my hip to my knee. 

   “Maybe I have the better view.” I mumbled, moving forward just enough so I that I was able to press a kiss to his lips. As he pushed me onto my back, his body sliding so he was hovering over me, I couldn’t picture how this would ever stop. How Edward and I would ever not be like this. Surely we felt like this, because we were meant for one another. 

   “I think.” I muttered sometime later. “That the reason we were both turned is so we could be together. I think this was always how it was supposed to be.” 

    “I couldn’t agree more. This, all of it, was so we could spend forever in each others arms.”

~~~~ Two Years Later~~~~

    “I’m not Edward’s mate?” I whispered, my voice barely loud enough for me hear, yet Alice was able to hear it perfectly. 

   “I am so sorry Y/n, we all truly thought that you were. I mean we have never seen anything like you and Edward, the love you have for one another.” 

   “Had.” I sighed, my voice breaking as I struggled to hold back the tears. “The love we had together. I’m nothing to him now.”

   “You know that’s not true.” Rose cried, moving so she could pull me against her. “Look at how hard he fought it, fought against the pull she has on him. He wouldn’t have done that if you meant nothing to him.”

   “It doesn’t matter now. It can’t.” I mumbled, shaking my head as I brushed the unshed tears from under my eyes. “I need to talk to Esme and Carlisle. I can’t stay here. I’ll go stay with Tanya and her family. I just, I can’t...” I shook my head, jumping up from my spot beside Rose and darting from the room. I could hear Edward down below, arguing with Jasper and Emmett, demanding that he at least gets to talk to me. I ignored it, pushing aside the part of me that wanted to run to him, to make the pain in his voice vanish and instead turned to Esme’s room. She was waiting for me, Carlisle standing silently beside her. 

   “I’m sorry.” I whispered, letting out a sob as I fell into her outstretched arms. “It’s to painful. Watching him with her.”

   “Don’t worry honey, we understand. Come home when you can.” Esme whispered, pulling me back to kiss my cheek. “And call us, you won’t have to talk to Edward but please promise you will talk to the rest of us.”

   “Of course I will mom.” I promised, leaning into kiss her cheek before stepping towards Carlisle and hugging him tightly. “I promise to call both of you every night.”

  “Good. I’ll call Tanya and tell her you and Nik are coming to stay.” Carlisle sighed. “Take care of each other. You two are the ones I worry for the most.” 

   “We will dad, we always do. I love you.” 

   “Not nearly as much as we love you.” Esme sighed, brushing a stand of my hair behind my ear. “Rose and Alice are waiting for their goodbyes and I imagine the boys will be up for theirs as well. We won’t keep you.” She kissed my forehead one last time before brushing past me, not wanting me to see just how badly my leaving hurt. Carlisle smiled softly and gave me one last kiss on the cheek before following her. I knew they were going to take Emmett and Jasper’s place so they could say goodbye. 

   “You had better call me every single day too.” Rose demanded as she pulled me into a hug. She didn’t me go until I promised and then she gave me a swift kiss on both cheeks before going to assist Esme and Carlisle with a now furious Edward. 

   “Try to forgive him, he can’t help any of this.” Alice sighed as she pulled me in for a hug. “If he had any say in this it would be you.” 

   “I’ll try.” I muttered, trying my best to mean it, after all she was right. This wasn’t something he could control. 

   “I could make it easier you know, you don’t have to go.” Jasper sighed, a small hopeful smile on his face. 

   “I do. The only way I could stay is if you were by my side every minute of the day. Eventually Alice would grow to hate me.” 

   “If meant you staying than I would live with it.” She vowed and while I knew she meant it I still couldn’t bring myself to leave. 

   “How will I know I have truly moved on if you are always there making me feel like I have? It’s for the best Jasper, I promise I will see you again though.” I hugged him tightly then, not wanting to ever let go. 

  “You had better.” He whispered, kissing my temple as I pulled away. 

  “If you decide to come back let me know, I’ll send him away myself.” Emmett whispered as I hugged him, his grip on me tightening as I let out a small sob. Leaving Emmett and Rose would be the hardest, well second hardest. The three of us have a bond like no other and the idea of leaving them both killed me, though not nearly as much as staying. 

   “Come on. Edward is getting to the point he may just throw Rose through a wall. It’s best we get going.” Niklaus sighed, smiling softly at me as he came out of the room that had once been mine and Edward’s. He had a suitcase in each hand, a pink one containing my things and a black one that held all of his. 

   “You don’t have to come with Nik. I know how much you love it here.” 

  “I promised mom, dad and nana that I would never leave your side. I am not about to risk getting murdered by pissed off spirits because you didn’t want me to leave Forks. Besides it won’t be the same without you here.” I nodded, knowing that it was useless at this point. 

   “Y/n wait! Please!” Edward cried, his voice so full of pain that it tore me apart. I let out a small cry and turned to the nearest window, jumping out onto the roof before stepping off onto the driveway. Someone, most likely Alice, had the car started already. I had just slipped into the passenger seat when Nik landed by the hood, quickly throwing the bags in the trunk before getting in the drivers seat beside me. 

   “To Denali.” He said with a grin, turning the radio on full blast in a desperate attempt to drown out Edward’s cry of my name.

     “It’s funny how one human can cause all this pain.” I sighed, letting my head fall against the glass. 

[edelgardlesbians]

Heyyo! So I don't use tumblr much and I'm not sure if this is the right place for this, but nothing ventured nothing gained or something, right? Saw the fanfic prompts post and I immediately thought of the comics/fanart/whatever a given person wants to call it that I don't have time to make (thanks college, for taking up all my free time) of Edeleth (best girls btw) inspired by pretty much every Aviators song, but especially "Follow you Down", "Red Water Dreams" and "Streets of Gold"

bro i cannot express to you how quickly i dropped everything to start writing edeleth streets of gold. all of these songs are SO good for them and are just. destroying me emotionally! anyways. this was going to be shorter but then it ended up being long, whoops! the ao3 link is here!

full fic is under the cut:

Edelgard is fundamentally a very lonely person. Everyone who once might have mitigated such a feeling is dead, and Hubert, for all his good intentions, will never be able to see her as his friend before his emperor. It isn’t a bad thing necessarily: she is not sure she will ever be able to see him as her friend over her accomplice, but it makes for a rather lonely existence.

There had been a time back at the academy when she had thought… but no, it does not do to dwell on such things at a time like this. She has a war to think about. Edelgard takes a deep breath and centers herself, pushing thoughts of the professor out of her mind. She has a war council meeting to run. Her personal feelings do not matter, not in the face of her ambitions. All that matters is that they are achieved. She will make all this death around her be worth something. None of it can be in vain.

The war council meeting is unproductive, although she is not sure what she expected. The Black Eagle Strike Force - her generals, her friends - care too much for them to agree on anything. It would be sweet, if it wasn’t incredibly frustrating. The war effort is not going badly by any means, but morale sinks lower every day. Edelgard can rally her people and make them fight their hardest, but absolute devotion is not something you can inspire with words alone. They need a gesture, a sweeping victory that moves the war in their favor and causes them all to believe in her without question.

If only it were so easy to make that happen.

“Your majesty?” Hubert says, his voice breaking through her thoughts. 

Edelgard looks up, smoothing her skirts with her hands. “Yes?”

Hubert bows, the motion comforting in its familiarity, “I have that report you requested.”

“Of course,” she says, “Thank you, Hubert.”

Hubert sets the file down on her desk, then stans, hands clasped behind his back. He’s clearly holding something back: he knows her well enough that he would not wait for her to dismiss him. “There is another matter I wished to discuss with you, if you have the time.”

The question is a formality, nothing more. Hubert knows her schedule better than she does, and is fully aware that she has a fifteen minute gap before her next meeting. She gestures towards him to sit in the empty chair across from her, but he ignores her in favor of continuing to stand.

“You have seemed distracted recently,” he says. “I do not doubt your resolve or determination, but you must cast off whatever it is that is causing such turmoil.”

“Ah,” Edelgard says, laying her hands flat on her desk. “I see. You are right, I have been a bit lost in thought lately.” Hubert nods, his posture still ramrod straight. She is glad that he told her: this is not something he would have felt comfortable discussing so straightforwardly in years prior. “Thoughts of the millenium festival have plagued me, as of late. I will set such things aside.”

“She is dead,” Hubert responds. “A promise will not change that, no matter how much she intended to follow through with it.”

Edelgard looks down at her hands, “Yes. Of course. I know.”

“Be glad that all our former classmates are still alive,” Hubert advises. “They will not allow you to bear this burden alone, and neither will I.”

A shadow of a smile crosses Edelgard’s face. “Thank you Hubert.”

Hubert bows again, then turns and leaves her alone with her thoughts.

-

On nights like these, it is easier if Edelgard accepts that she is not going to get any more sleep than she already has. She sighs and pulls herself out of bed, dressing in silence and then setting out for a walk around the monastery grounds. The pale light of the sun is just cresting over the hills beyond the monastery. She hadn’t expected to, but she loves the monastery in a fierce, selfish kind of way. It seems unthinkable: the entire time she was there, she had known that all this temporary peace would fall apart in mere months. But regardless, it seems like part of her is always going to be that girl at the academy, relishing in the small happiness it had afforded her.

The sound of footsteps remind her of where she is, and she freezes, “Halt! Who’s there!”

“Edelgard?”

That voice… it can’t be. Edelgard turns, half expecting to see a ghost (although if this is who haunts her, over all of her siblings, that seems unfair), but instead, the professor stands there. There’s a smudge of dirt on her face, and her hair is unkempt and tangled, but it is her, absolutely her.

“Professor?” Edelgard says, hardly able to hear herself speak over the blood rushing in her ears. The goddess is a lie and there is no such thing as fate, but this is a blessing nonetheless. “It is really you? But I searched everywhere and never found a trace. Where have you been?”

Byleth’s face clouds, and her eyes dart downwards, her head bending slightly. “I was dead,” she says, her voice free of any indication that she is anything less than gravely serious.

“You can’t be joking!” Edelgard cries, hating how young she sounds in this instant. “It’s been five years since you disappeared! Do you have any idea how guilty I felt? How broken my heart was?”

Byleth steps closer, resting a hand gently on her arm, “I am sorry you were alone.”

Edelgard shakes her head, “I knew you were alive. I led everyone as best I could and fought with all my heart. It’s been a difficult path to walk alone.”

Byleth doesn’t hesitate, just brings her other hand up to squeeze Edelgard’s shoulder gently, “You are not alone.”

Edelgard closes her eyes for just a moment, then steps forward and wraps her arms around her professor, burying her face in the crook of Byleth’s neck. Her professor is right: she is not alone, and she will walk through this with Byleth at her side.

[pinballwitxh]

THE SHADOW - CHAPTER TWO

summary: spencer is faced with the painful decision to send his mother to a sanitarium, leaving his younger sister in his care until she is 18.

warnings: cursing, siblings being pretty mean to each other, anger issues

a/n: more inspiration for this story came to me! hope y’all are enjoying and let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

CHAPTER 2 - SPENCER

When their father left, it really didn’t surprise Spencer all that much. He had been expecting it, really. It didn’t mean he liked it and in fact he hated it. He hated it because he knew that his mother was never going to recover from that kind of loss and betrayal.

And when Christine cried, so did Spencer.

She sat at the living room window, peering out the curtains and waiting for him to come home. All day she cried and sat at the window, even though he had told her he wasn’t coming back.

Diana locked herself away in her room to sleep for God-knew how long.

His father had tried to be interested in the things he was, but Christine held a place in their father’s life that Spencer knew he would never.

He hated sports. He hated being in the sun too long. He hated sweating.

To young Spencer his father favored Christine, and he hated it. He sometimes even caught himself hating her for it.

Punishments were usually tougher on him than his younger sister, who practically got away with everything. He attributed this to him being the only son, and some favoritism. While his father was proud of him they just never could connect, unlike him and Diana.

And for a long time he was okay with that, and their family was okay. It was a dynamic that worked for all of them until things began to fall apart.

- - -

The living room was quiet, but the silence was deafening. The tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

Eighteen-year old Spencer sat with his elbows propped on the coffee table, his knee bouncing. Fourteen-year old Christine sat next to him with her head in her hands.

He cleared his throat, “So do you agree with me?”

She nodded.

“Are you okay?”

Her hazel eyes met his own, “I don’t know, she’s getting better. Maybe we should just keep her with us.”

“Well they need an answer by this afternoon,”

“You can stay here and help, we can both take care of her. I promise I’d help,” she said quietly.

Spencer glanced back down at the documents with a sigh, running his finger over the signature lines. They were empty, waiting for his adult-approval.

He hardly felt like a legal adult, age was just a number.

When he signed the papers behind his sister’s back he knew there would be hell to come. But in order for his mother to get better she needed to go.

- - -

The doorbell rang and Christine beat Spencer to the door, frowning upon the visitors on the other side.

“Can I help you?”

The man held a clipboard to his chest, “Yes, u-um we’re here to pick up Diana Reid. Is this the right address?”

“Pick up, where-“

“Let them in, Christy.”

The two men took that as their cue to enter, pushing past the confused teenager. She watched her brother usher them into the kitchen and with the look on his face she knew what was happening.

And she hated him for it.

“Spencer, what are they doing here?”

“Just stay in the living room, okay?”

“You can’t hide these things from me, I promised you I’d help take care of her!” She yelled, fists clenched.

He ignored her and lead the men into the kitchen. A few minutes later she could hear her mother begging Spencer to let her stay. Despite how downright awful Diana could be, her heart broke at the sound of her mother’s pleas.

She ran into the kitchen, gasping as she watched one of the men stick her mother with a needle. Diana went limp in her seat at the kitchen table, falling into the arms of the medical personnel. Before she could even attempt to run to her mother’s side, Spencer gripped her arm and pulled her to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you signed the papers, jackass?” She snarled at him, trying to rip her arm out of his grip.

“I had to make the decision that was best for mom, and for us,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that we can’t live like this,” he said as they lifted their drowsy, sobbing mother into a wheelchair.

They wheeled her out of the kitchen, Christine struggling against her taller brother’s hold on her. Once they reached the sidewalk outside was when she broke free and ran out the door.

She cried out for Diana and ran to her side, gripping her hand as they continued to push her to the bus.

“It’s okay, I’m right here, mom,” she said with tears, “We’re gonna come visit you every week and talk to you whenever we can.”

Diana smiled deliriously at her, “Oh that’s good, kiddo, where am I going?”

Christine didn’t answer but instead walked with her all the way to the vehicle. Once they finally shut the door was when Spencer joined them outside, taking some final documents from them.

“Everything is ready for her at the facility, you don’t need to come in today.” One of the men said.

Spencer smiled, “Thank you,” he whispered.

Christine stood next to him, head down and eyes set on the ground. She didn’t even see the van pull away.

“How could you do that?” She seethed, rounding on her brother.

He glared at her, “Keep your voice down, the neighbors are already outside watching us.”

“You signed the papers without even telling me, we hadn’t even decided yet!” She threw her hands in the air, “Guess you really don’t care what I think, right?”

He stepped closer to her, “I did what was best for both of us, she’s getting worse and it wouldn’t help her staying here.” He whispered harshly.

Christine’s face was starting to heat up and her limbs were shaking. She couldn’t even think straight, she was just so incredibly angry.

She shoved Spencer, hard. He stumbled back a few steps, blinking in confusion.

“Fuck. You.” She said shakily, shoving her finger into his chest.

He rolled his eyes, “Think what you want but I did this for you,”

“Oh so now you care about me and my life?” She laughed, “I was fine on my own when everyone just left me alone. I didn’t need you to come in and take her away.”

“You were the one that called her crazy!” He shouted, hands gripping his hair in frustration, “You hated taking care of her.”

“But I did it anyway, for four years I did it by myself and it was fine! Mom and I just did our own thing and when she needed me, I was there,”

“You did the bare minimum, Christine,” he growled.

She could see red and suddenly she was lunging for him. Her palm connected with his cheek, leaving a sting on both of their skins. Spencer held a hand to his cheek, mouth agape in shock.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough,” she began to cry, “And when I gave you my input on this whole situation you just pushed it aside! Not that I’m surprised,”

He took her arm in his grip and she winced as he pulled her close, his grip tightening, “Not everything is about you!”

“Let go of me, asshole!”

He pushed her away and sent her tumbling to the ground. In an instant she was back up and she jumped for him. Spencer attempted to push her off of him but she was moving so fast he couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

She was throwing punches at him, strings of curse words mixing with her sobs. The neighbors were definitely watching, now.

Spencer finally gained some solid ground and pushed himself up. He grabbed her arms and pushed her away from him, standing up to brush the dirt off his pants.

“Don’t say anything,” he repeated to himself as he walked away.

He could hear her feet pounding towards him on the pavement and before she could jump on his back, he turned and reached for her hand.

With much fighting he dragged her inside the house without another word.

When the door was shut behind him she lunged for him again and he pushed her away, “Back off, Christine.” He growled.

“Or what?”

The quick slap of his palm echoed throughout the house. It had been much harder than Christine ever thought he could hit. She let out a shuddering breath and looked away with a hand covering her eye.

Spencer shoved past her and went up the stairs, slamming his door shut behind him. He didn’t care what she thought of him anymore, he knew that his decision was the best for both of them.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt him, too.

Christine stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands folded under her chin and elbows on her knees. A blackened bruise was slowly forming over her puffy eye and all she could think about was the uncertainty of her future.

CHAPTER 3 COMING SOON

THE MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @ultrarebelheart @literallyreid

[cloudbattrolls]

The Woods, Interrupted

Running from Rhyssa hadn’t lasted long.

Rather, it had apparently lasted a week or so after fleeing from her the first time, during which they’d apparently they’d suppressed the memory of the encounter. Unhelpful in practice, though at least for once their brain had tried to do them a favor. 

Sadly it had all come rushing back in a jolt of pure adrenaline as they had attempted to book it from her swarms of wasps, tearing through branches and becoming riddled with splinters for their trouble.

They looked up at her now from a pile of leaves they’d collapsed on, too weary to run more. God, they could drain a whole person dry right now and have room for several pints of another. Their head rested on their knees as they huddled over.

“What do you want.” the worm drinker groaned.

She looked at them (or did she look? She still wore that bandanna over her eyes, and a hat on her head that would’ve shaded her view, yet clearly she could see somehow) and knelt down next to them.

Every part of them ached, worms protesting from hunger and disappointment that the woman next to them was anything but prey. Their clothes were damp and dirty from nights in the forest and they wanted to go home.

Home. There was no home, not anymore.

Their cavern would never be theirs again, and they wandered for a reason: after leaving OLSC, staying in one place too long was just asking for the empire to snatch them up a third time.

“I just wanna talk, honey. Ain’t you even a little curious about what we got in common?”

Tuuya looked away from her, ears down and twitching in irritation.

“No. Bugger off. Just because we’re both made of bloodsucking parasites doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends.”

Or siblings.

The freshly remembered word cut through their head like a rusty knife, slow pain mixed with disbelief. It couldn’t be true; they’d never seen Rhyssa before in their life. Their worm was artificial anyway, a product of their ancestor’s science; if her wasps were (god forbid) natural, there was no way they could be related.

She clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Well dang, you treat everyone who wants to get to know you this way? Doesn’t seem like much of a way to make pals.”

“I don’t associate with other undead.” They snapped, plucking off a leaf stuck one of their horn tines and crunching it up in their hands with rather more malice than it deserved. “You make for terrible company.”

They thought of Tiijah and brushed the thought aside. They hadn’t spoken with her in ages, nor Shiver, or Matcha. They’d probably never see that ridiculous mediculler boy again either. None of them counted.

Besides, did the fool think they’d somehow forgotten about her town? Perhaps she’d been doing it so long she’d forgotten it was messed up to make people your willing blood bags, but Tuuya was all too aware. Their dozen cavern trolls had been bad enough, let alone a couple hundred people who were clearly only the latest of what had probably been thousands over the sweeps.

Rhyssa laughed, and if they’d had any more energy than it took to keep their face out of the dirt, they’d have hurled another smoke bomb at her out of spite.

“Well, who in tarnation do you shoot the shit with? Living trolls are fine for a wheeze and all, but you turn around and they’re dead or ascended or too old to have fun with anymore.”

The worm monster scowled as they looked back at her, hoping they were staring directly into her eyes. Arrogant prick.

“Here’s a thought: why don’t you leave me alone, and I leave you alone, and we both forget this ever happened.”

Hardly. But figuring out how to kill her and deal with her brainwashed horde would take time.

She sat properly and bit her lip as if considering it, then shook her head.

“Back in my town, did you think you were protecting my folks? You thought I was gonna drain them dry?”

They snorted.

“I didn’t know what you were going to do, I just knew I didn’t like it. We have nothing more to discuss, because if you haven’t noticed, I hate you. Have a terrible night.”

“Why?” She said, blunt and frustrated, hands spread out in what was probably meant to be a placating gesture. “Look - sorry for ripping at ya before, I didn’t realize you were my kind. Thought you were one of the little wriggler drinkers, trying to swipe blood. I woulda never done that if I’d known.”

They closed their eyes, giving a hard sigh in irritation.

“Thanks. That changes nothing. Goodbye.”

It was difficult to tell what she was thinking, but the woman shifted, hands crunching leaves in her fists as the weak moonlight filtering through the treetops.

“You don’t even care about who you are?”

“I find my life much improved by behaving like I’m a person instead of a disgusting hell swarm. Weird take, I know, but that’s why you and I have zero common ground and never will.”

She parted her lips and wasps flew out. The worm monster flinched back, and Rhyssa smiled and put a finger to her mouth.

The insects flew around before settling on Tuuya’s arms, faceted eyes gleaming as their antennae twitched. The younger drinker went rigid, expecting pain.

“Well? If you’re going to attack me, get it over with.” They half-snapped, a quaver to their voice as their bright jade pupils flitted back and forth between the white creatures and Rhyssa’s face.

“Hush up a moment and listen.”

They felt the buzz more than heard it. It spread through them like a wave of electricity, not painful, instead oddly invigorating. Every part of their body vibrated from the wasps’ noise, their worms yearning to come out, to...communicate, somehow.

Instinctually, they cut the back of their hand and released the pale invertebrates. The creatures wriggled up their arms, their shoulders - and the wasps didn’t hurt them.

They fluttered around the worms delicately, lightly brushing them with their wings...almost as if with affection. The worms docilely waved in the air as if to track the insects’ progress, even though they had no eyes.

Tuuya looked up to see Rhyssa grinning even wider.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” 

Her voice was all innocence.

“Smiling. It’s annoying.”

“Nah, you ain’t gonna ruin this. I knew it. I knew you were the real worm. I always hoped you’d survived somehow...I was right.”

The jade rolled their eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and care less. Their reactions don’t speak for me. I have a troll thinkpan, even if the rest of me is them.”

Yet despite their dry words, the drinker felt a sense of recognition. It was nothing they could explain. Alternian Standard didn’t have the language for it, for a sensation that went beyond the five senses, a flickering of belonging that was alien and yet terrifyingly familiar.

Why? Why did they feel that way?

“That doesn’t make a lick of sense, sweetie. They are you. Can’t you feel it? Even if you don’t remember - ”

They snapped to attention, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t remember what?”

Rhyssa waved a hand in a gesture that tried to be casually dismissive but failed as her wrist trembled a little.

“Nothin’, sugar cube, don’t fret about that right now.”

They retracted their worms back into their body and folded their arms.

“Does this have anything to do with whatever you called me when you first saw me? That was a name, wasn’t it?”

Hlayos, or so it had sounded like. It had been kind of hard to hear precisely when they’d been trying to put themself back together from those godawful stingers.

The woman sighed and blew air out of her dead lungs, running her fingers through the grass.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into all that just yet, okay? I still need to figure out what I’m gonna do. This is great, but...”

The wavy-haired undead leaned back as Rhyssa trailed off wistfully, apparently staring into space. Their mouth pulled into displeased slash and their ears angled likewise.

“Can I go, then? Without you sending your horrid beasts after me?”

She sniffed in a way that indicated Tuuya had been rude, which honestly was the funniest thing they’d heard all night.

“Whatcha in such a hurry for anyway?”

“Oh, I’ve got a meeting with the empress and her personal tea server.” They remarked, snide. “If I’m late I have to dance the macarena and wear mittens on my horns.”

Claire’s forest wasn’t too far from this one, now that they remembered where they were. Selfish as it was, all they wanted right now was a hot cup of her own hivemade tea and to hear Irisma and Moelle play, or Talula shriek in delight as she stacked blocks. Maybe they could listen to Elziah and Aduya practice their music, ask Wueyah to show them her art, or - not that they’d ever admit it - toss Herbie some snacks.

Then they realize what they want even more: to sit with Uunive lying in their lap like she did when she was small and her horns hadn’t reached their full growth, when she still wanted to play Sailor Moon and they ran dungeons and dragons every week.

God, they missed her. How was she doing with her cavern duties? Did she have a matesprit now, that girl she talked about before? Had she made more bread? Above all, was she still safe?

Useless thoughts, every one of them, highly ridiculous and inappropriate. They hadn’t been made to be sentimental.

They had been meant to be like Rhyssa.

“Now why don’t you wanna tell me?” The wasp monster mused.

They barked a laugh, managing to push themself up after a long enough rest.

“Could it be because I don’t trust you? I don’t know how many barbs I have to throw before one sinks in, but here’s a flat fact: I would rather be literally anywhere else right now.”

Bizarrely, her mouth turned down in an injured pout.

“What’s so great about where you’re goin’ anyway? You don’t seem the party type, so it ain’t that. Pfft, no, wait - you got a living quad, I bet. Shoot, you would, you seem so young and goofy.”

They got up, ignoring her, ignoring their hunger, and pointedly walked away silently (well, more like with periodic sullen leaf crunches, but they did their best).

“Is it that little cluster in the woods over yonder?”

Tuuya kept walking despite the pit of dread that had opened up inside them. If they didn’t react, she had nothing to go on. She could just be taking shots in the dark.

“Is it that maroon who walks round with that dragon-lookin’ thing?”

Keep walking. Keep walking. Don’t show her anything.

“Gosh, guess I could pay them a visit myself. See what makes their company so preferable. Course, question is, should I let them live at the end? Maroons die in a blink anyway. I’d be doin’ you a favor.”

The buzzing sounded again and they couldn’t help it, they whirled around to see Rhyssa’s swarm buzzing around her.

The wasps weren’t fluttering gently now.

Their throat went dry, drier even than it was, and their eyes widened in fear they can’t conceal.

“No.” They whispered. Even with Claire’s powers to reckon with, the wasps were fast and deadly enough to seriously injure or kill the others before she could help them.

“Please, no. Don’t do it.”

“Why?” She said again, this time almost indifferent in her tone, her relaxed shoulders, hands on her hips. She was annoyed at most; there was no hate in her voice, not even any arrogance. These trolls were just an obstacle to her. The receiving end of her petty spite.

Spite they were helpless to stop.

“Because...they don’t deserve to die. They’re decent people, decent as anyone can be on Alternia. They don’t deserve to die just for knowing me.” Tuuya croaked, hands shaking.

“Aaaaaah.” Rhyssa breathed, satisfaction and ire in her voice. “Thought I smelled you in those trees. That’s what took me so long, thinking you were there instead of here...now I get it. But that’s an awful weak argument, sugar. Put some fire into it! Same stuff you showed me when you were defending my folk, and you barely knew them. What makes these little snacks so important that they’re worth keeping alive, hm?”

The tailor’s mouth opened and closed, then they found their voice.

“They - they are very talented, artistically, and I assist them with clothing and such, and - ”

The situation would’ve been ridiculous if it hadn’t been so terrifying. Firebird had been a menace, dangerously delusional, nothing but a misguided fool in the end, but she had never threatened their...their circle.

The wasps rose higher in the air, primed to attack.

No. They all had so much to live for. They deserved so much better -

They began to fly.

The worm monster flung an arm out as they yelled, voice weak and cracking as they trembled in fear, ears flat against their head.

“Don’t hurt them, because I...I love them.”

Tuuya slapped a hand to their mouth. Idiot. What a stupid thing to say. As if they had the right. 

If Claire ever found out...never mind, absolutely no energy to worry about that right now, save it for later.

The wasps spiraled down and back into Rhyssa, who chuckled gently as the other drinker went weak in relief.

“Aw, that’s cute. Dumb, but cute. Well...if ya really do like ‘em so much, I guess I wanna meet ‘em!”

They stared at her blankly.

“What.”

“I mean I could drink ‘em instead, but your call - ”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll take you.”

Not as if they had a choice. 

But damned if they’d ever let her touch them. Damned if Claire and her family would ever suffer because of Tuuya and the trouble they’d accidentally brought with them.

As Rhyssa walked ahead, their bright yellow and jade eyes narrowed.

They’d kill her somehow. For the sake of their circle. For the sake of her captive town. 

And most of all, because she was bloody irritating. 

END

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Hello!! If it floats your boat, could you write some angst (I love angst) where papa iii's s/o breaks up with him bc he flirts with others too much? (I would be gucci if there was a happy ending :,,,) )

You got it! 

(Unbeta’d ficlet!)

—

Papa was besides himself with giddiness on the way home from the party. That much you could tell. It was obvious by the way he hummed animatedly to himself, patting his gloved hands in beat on his thighs. Parties had always been his bread and butter, and left him satisfied for the rest of the night- even when festivities had ended.

But for you, it was difficult to even look at him. What was worse(or better, depending on who you asked) was he didn’t even seem to notice your cloudy mood. You sat away from him, arms and legs crossed and staring into the corner. It was all you could do to keep from crying or screaming at him. The idiot couldn’t even tell you were upset with him! 

Wait, not upset- you were absolutely pissed and heart broken. Papa, as you knew, was a natural flirt. He always had been, and probably always would be. You knew that, even when you both agreed to be exclusive. You wanted to kick yourself thinking on it. How could you be so stupid? You shuddered in fury as you remembered the “agreement”. But now? Now you realized how absolutely delusion you were.  

How could you have believed you could keep Papa Emeritus the Fucking Third faithful in any remote sense?? 

The man was walking sex, and you went in knowing it. Papa was always charming and flirtatious, even when you were an item. Being a couple didn’t stop him from kissing hands, or mutter sweet nothings to other siblings of sin. Nor did it stop how he carried himself like Asmodeus himself. Showing off for any drooling person who wanted him. 

 The party was no exception, and just the final straw for you. You had practically thrown your champagne glass seeing him work the room. But it broke you when you saw him chatting up a particularly voluptuous blonde Sister- even going so far as to push hair behind her ear. The tears had you choking and sobbing in the bathroom for half an hour. When you returned to the floor, Papa hadn’t even noticed you were gone. You lied and said your red eyes were from getting something in them. He had accepted it and went back to chatting. 

You thanked the Olde One when the car finally stopped- tears threatening to spill once more. You shocked the ghoul that was trying to open your door by flinging it open yourself. Everyone jumped when you slammed it and practically sprinted to the Cathedral. You left all the confused shouts and questions behind the giant doors. 

Your over night bag was half way packed when Papa finally made it to your shared chambers. You didn’t bother to look up at him, but you could practically hear the surprise and confusion in his voice. It sent a stab of guilt through you, momentarily- one you pushed aside in anger and hurt. 

“Cara mia, what’s wrong?”

Papa got closer as you ignored him in favor of shoving your toiletries into the bag. You felt his gloved hand on your shoulder, and violently shook it off. When you mustered the courage to look at him, his brow was creased. Papa looked so hurt and confused. Tears started to fall again.

“My dear, please- I’m just trying to figure out what’s the matter! You are never this-”

“Oh cut the crap! Don’t act like you finally care! You practically ignored me all fucking night!” 

Papa paused, not very happy with your tone. But you were obviously hurting, and of course the bastard picked up on it. You hated how his voice became more gentle, trying to comfort you. 

“Please, just tell me what’s wr-”

“I’m so fucking sick of this- sick of you! What the fuck did I ask when we got together? That you just stop doing that shit all the time!” 

He watched, the heart break on his face as you lost your sight to crying. 

“I- I know that’s your ‘thing’, but… fuck can you just for ONE night not eye-bang the first pretty sister you see?” 

There was a long and deafening silence. The zipper of your bag closing was the only thing to break it after your sniffles. Once more you felt gloved hands on your shoulders as he turned you to face him. 

“Cara mia-”

“No! That;s not going to work! Don’t Cara Mia me! Don’t fucking talk to me again!“

He couldn’t stop you as you shoved past and disappeared out of the chambers.

—-

Part two? >>

[mxlti-vxrse]

Number Eight

Spoilers for Umbrella Academy Season 1! This is my rendition of what happened and in no way has any connection to season 2 as it hasn't come out yet!

January, 2016 Steve sat in the compound of the tower, lounging on the couch in the corner of the room. A few of the other Avengers were around but he ignored them in favor of the book in his hand. During his search for some popular forms of entertainment in the 21st century, he had come across a box of comic books.

"What are you reading, Steve?" Natasha asked, sitting down across from him with a bowl of snacks. He held up the cover of the comic book and Natasha laughed slightly.

"The Umbrella Academy. Been awhile since I heard about them." She confessed with a chuckle.

Steve tilted his head in confusion. "Is it true that they are a real group of people?" He questioned. Natasha was silent before looking up at him.

"On October 1st, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth simultaneously, despite none of them showing signs of pregnancy until labor began. An eccentric billionaire named Reginald Hargreeves adopted eight of those children. He then turned them into a superhero team called The Umbrella Academy. As children they fought together, but no one has heard from the Umbrella Academy in years. Though, I know Nick Fury has had his eyes on them for awhile."

Steve shook his head in shock. "I can't believe it. How has SHIELD not taken them yet?"

Tony decided to join the conversation, "They tried, but that Hargreeves guy is a tight ass. And after they all turned eighteen and one of the kids died most of them went off grid. Allison is some movie star, I know that. One of them is an addict, another is on the moon-"

"One is a vigilante, one's missing, then there's the violinist." Clint cut in, sitting on top of the couch.

"That's only seven, including the one that died. What about Number Eight?" Steve asked them and the three all looked at each other.

"As far as we know she went underground a few years ago. A few blips on the radar here and there but then she's gone again. Not even her siblings know." Clint told him. Steve looked down at the comic book page and saw a drawing of Number Eight turning invisible and intangible.

"No wonder no one found her."

May, 2019 "Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves has died of natural causes in the home of The Umbrella Academy. We have yet to hear from his adoptive children on the matter." The Avengers all watched the news with looks of shock.

"Wow. Can't believe that asshole is dead." Tony remarked.

"Tony." Natasha scolded.

"No, he's right. He was kind of a dick. I can't believe they haven't heard from any of the children." Bucky spoke up from the counter.

"That's not entirely true." Nick Fury walked into the room. They all turned to face him and he stared back seriously. "Most of the children have returned to The Umbrella Academy."

"Most?" Steve asked.

"Number Eight remains underground and unaccounted for along with Number Five, though where's the surprise there?" Nick announced.

"Why are you here, Fury?" Tony asked.

"Because now that the Umbrella Academy is back, nothing good can come from it. I want you all to stay alert and if anything strange happens, follow it." He ordered.

"Understood."

Umbrella Academy The rooms of the Academy were quiet, all of the children avoiding a fight with the other. It stayed that way until there was a knock at the door.

Pogo quickly made his way into the main room and opened the door, leaving the others behind. "Y/N!" He exclaimed, staring at her in shock as she smiled down at him.

"It's good to see you, Pogo. Are the rest here? I'd like to get this reunion over with." She admitted quietly. Pogo let her in and she set aside her motorcycle helmet and slipped off her leather jacket.

"Yes, they should all be in the living room." He led her into the room and her siblings all stared at her in shock.

"Hey, guys. It's been awhile." She smiled tightly at them. Klaus was the first to hug her, squeezing her tightly and muttering about how she was all grown up and murdering people, now.

Diego followed close behind, then Vanya and Allison, and finally Luther. Y/N didn't hold any grudge against her siblings for what they had done. She knew better than anyone else that people made mistakes.

"Where have you been?" Diego asked her quietly once they had all settled down.

"Around. I never stayed in one place to long. People have been after me- SHIELD, Hydra, random assholes like dad." She explained.

"We didn't think you would show. You hated dad more than any of us." Klaus admitted. Y/N looked down at the ground, frowning slightly.

"I wasn't going to, but it was an excuse to see you all and I needed a break."

November, 1996 A young Y/N stood in front of her father with a blank expression. "You are nothing but a weapon, Number Eight. You were made to kill and nothing more. Isn't that right?" The man asked her.

"Yes, father. I am nothing more than a weapon. I was made to kill and nothing more." She spoke flatly.

"Good. Now disappear." In a split second she was gone right before his eyes. "Reappear." He ordered. She re-materialized before him in the exact position she was in before.

"Intangible." He threw a ball at her and without flinching, the ball moved right through her. "Good job, Number Eight." After a few more hours of him testing her in the living room, she was finally done.

"Repeat what I said, Number Eight."

"I am nothing more than a weapon. I was made to kill and nothing more."

"Again!"

"I am nothing more than a weapon. I was made to kill and nothing more."

"Again!"

As he continued to push her into her shell, he didn't notice the tears that fell onto the carpet as she repeated the dull words over and over again. Klaus peeked his head around the corner and watched his sister fall apart right in front of his eyes without him being able to do anything about it.

Present When Five showed up in a portal she was pleasantly surprised. "So you time traveled?" She finished their conversation and he nodded in confirmation.

"Fucking dope." She chuckled.

The group of seven all stood outside as Luther gave the speech at their fathers "funeral". Y/N couldn't help but agree with what Diego said about their father being a horrible person. After all, he made her into what she was today.

After her visit to the house Y/N snuck out the back door and out to her bike before driving it back to her motel where she was staying for the night. As soon as she collapsed onto the shitty bed there was a crack and Five was standing in the middle of her motel room.

"Ah! What the fuck, Five?" She exclaimed.

"I don't have a lot of time, but you're the only one I trust with this information." He peeked through the blinds and double checked the locks on the door and windows.

"What are you talking about?" She sighed, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"In one week, there's going to be an apocalypse that will wipe out the entire earth." He told her sternly and she shot up from the bed.

"You're just telling me now?" She asked him, grabbing her helmet and jacket.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I'm taking you to someone who can help with this mess. We both know we can't do this on our own and we need all the help we can get. So grab a helmet and let's go."

Five was about to interrupt but she stopped him. "I'm serious, Five. If you trust me then you'll come with me." She told him. "Do you trust me?"

"I do," he sighed.

Avengers Compound Steve and Bucky were standing in the elevator with their weapons ready. Two people had shown up in the lobby claiming it was an emergency and they needed to see the Avengers immediately. Steve and Bucky took Fury's warning to heart and went down to meet the two.

As soon as the door opened Y/N and Five were turned around facing the two. Steve hesitated and looked at Bucky who was frozen. "A kid and a biker. Buck, you okay?"

"I was sent to kill her. A few years ago they told me to kill a mysterious assassin, that's her. She's Number Eight." He muttered as they started to walk closer to the two siblings.

"Hello, Mr Rogers, Mr Barnes. My brother here has an emergency and we could really use the help. The world is at stake." She warned.

Steve and Bucky glanced at each other and nodded back at the elevator, motioning for the two to follow them up.

The ride was silent and slightly awkward with Bucky eyeing Number Eight curiously. Five was seemingly happy with the circumstances and was looking around while quietly humming. Steve was silent behind Bucky and Number Eight was keeping an eye on Five.

As soon as the doors opened Five was out and walking down the hall into the compound. Steve rushed after him and Bucky shook his head. "Is he always like that?"

Y/N shrugged, "I'm not sure." She followed Steve and Bucky ran after them. Five was already sitting at the counter and waiting for them. "Five. Come on." She muttered and he shrugged.

"Why are you guys here?" Steve asked.

Five looked at Y/N, "Who are these guys again?"

"The Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes or something." She whispered and Steve shot her a look.

"We protect earth from outside threats. Aliens, Gods, that sort of thing."

"Interesting. Well, in a week there's going to be an apocalypse that will wipe out all life on planet earth. I know because seventeen years ago I went back in time and saw the world in crumbles. The only lead I have is this prosthetic eye I found." He explained.

Bucky blanched, "the world is going to end in a week."

"I trust Five with my life. If he says there's going to be an apocalypse than there will be. The moon is still in the sky and we are still alive so we have time, but not much." Y/N argued.

"What do we have to do?"

"Really? An apocalypse? That's a little much even for you, Cap." Tony snorted. They had called the rest of the team into the compound in order to brief them and get them on board with their plan.

"It's true. We have a week to figure out who this eye belongs to and how we can stop them." Five told the man while holding the prosthetic up for everyone to see.

"And why is there a toddler in my kitchen?" Tony added.

"I'm actually 58 years old, tiny." Five snapped and Sam's eyes widened.

"What the fuck is going on?" He exclaimed, looking at the two heroes and his teammates.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Are we going to get to work or not? Cause I don't really want to die in the next seven days." All of the Avengers looked between the Hargreeves and their fellow superheroes.

"What do we need to do first?"

A few days later Y/N stormed into the base with files in her hand and her sister following behind her. "We've figured it out! The person who causes the apocalypse." There were papers spread out throughout the entire room where they had been trying to figure out the owner of the eye.

"How?!" Tony exclaimed.

"We snuck into our sisters boyfriends house and found pictures of us with our eyes gouged out. Turns out his name isn't really Leonard Peabody, it's Harold Jenkins. But the thing is, Vanya killed him when she found out about him sneaking around behind her back and manipulating her. So technically the apocalypse is over- it's been stopped." Y/N explained with a grin.

"I'm sorry, that was a lot of information in a small paragraph. But the apocalypse is over? We're done?" Clint asked.

"As far as we know. So, we should be safe." Suddenly, the entire building shook. They all grabbed something to hold onto and Y/N looked at Allison in shock.

"Vanya." Allison mouthed, not being able to speak.

Y/N nodded and ran towards the window. She could see Vanya making her way towards the tower.

"She knows we're here, I have to stop her. Contact Five and he'll come help." Allison went to protest but she shot her sister a glare. "You're injured."

Y/N went to run out of the window and curled herself into a ball, phasing through the window and onto the street below. Vanya was only a couple of feet away.

"Vanya, I know it hurts. You were treated so badly by our entire family. We can't go back and fix it, but we can make the future better. I need you to trust me that we'll be okay. But you have to stop this." She called. Vanya's eyes flickered and she tilted her head.

"Please, Vanya. I don't want them to hurt you. You have to stop." She continued. The light from her was starting to fade and Vanya was gaining her senses back.

"That's it. I can help you. We can help you." Y/N insisted. Vanya suddenly gasped and fell to the ground. The debris stopped flying and fell to the ground. Y/N nearly cried in relief and quickly slid to meet her sister on the ground.

"Hey, hey, look at me. Look at me, sis." She cooed, cradling Vanya's head in her shoulder as her sister started to sob loudly. The tower doors opened and Allison ran out with the others in tow.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." Vanya cried.

"It's okay, it's okay." Bucky watched the two with a frown, watching Number Eight look back at them with tear stained cheeks and nod.

Five appeared behind the two with a frantic look on his usually put together face. The sound of an ice cream truck pulling in made the Avengers attention divert to the truck driving over the rubble. The brakes were pushed with a loud squeak and three men piled out of it.

One had one leather head-to-toe, another was double the size of a regular man, and the last was wearing leather pants and a hideous tie dye shirt. They rushed towards the two girls on the ground but Five stopped them, shaking his head at their rushing.

Y/N pulled away with a sniffle."You're okay. You're okay." Vanya shook her head, still not opening her eyes. She gripped Y/N's jacket tightly in her fists, pulling her closer so she could cry into her shoulder and still constantly mumble her apologies.

"It's not your fault, it's fathers. All of this, is his fault." She reassured her. Klaus sighed and looked at Diego.

"Father of the year award, ladies and gentleman." He muttered and Diego shoved him lightly. A few minutes later and Vanya had passed out. Y/N moved her up to the medical wing after getting permission from Tony. The six siblings all crowded in the compound with the Avengers surrounding them.

"I feel like we should offer you a spot on the team but that feels too soon." Tony remarked.

"With all due respect, we work alone." Luther insisted.

"Now, now... speak for yourself, Number One. I for one, am seriously considering this deal." Klaus leaned forward in his seat, his palm holding his head up and his eyes wide. "It sounds very intriguing."

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother. "Klaus, don't sound to eager."

"I'm with Luther for once, I work alone." Diego shrugged.

Allison scribbled something in her notebook. "Klaus."

Five shrugged. "Why not. I was alone for years, a team might be a refreshing change."

Bucky turned to Y/N, anticipating her answer. She was looking between her siblings nervously.

"Number Eight?"

"Y/N?" Klaus and Luther asked at the same time. Klaus shot his brother a look and he shrugged.

Y/N looked at Klaus and smiled slightly at him, thankful. "I'll stay and look after Vanya. After that I leave." She reasoned.

"Whatever you say." Tony nodded, face disappearing behind his glass.

Hospital Wing Y/N sat down next to Vanya's bed, her hand gripping her sister's tightly in her own. "Why is this so important to you? I thought that you left your family years ago?" Bucky asked from behind.

Y/N sighed. "As soon as we turned eighteen, most of us left. Me, sooner than most. They didn't say so in the comics, but Reginald Hargreeves was an abusive bastard. He told me every single day that I was nothing but a weapon, that I was made to kill." She shook her head as tears formed in her eyes. "So that's what I did. I left, and I killed. Wish I would have had the guts to kill him but we live and learn."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry that he was such an asshole. But you can stay here, with us. With me." He added , grinning down at her despite the circumstances.

Y/N grinned down at her lap. "You're cute..." It was silent for a few minutes between them. "I know it was you, a few years ago. It was 2010, I was twenty and you showed up outside of my shitty motel and tried to kill me."

Bucky froze. "It wasn't me, Hydra they- they-"

"I know. I could tell. I'd heard about the Winter Soldier before, but I never thought he'd come for me." She cut him off.

"Hydra wanted as many of those 43 children that they could find. You were one of them."

"How many did they get?"

"None. All of them were unable to be tracked down, died, or were already taken." Bucky explained.

"Without fathers guidance their powers would have gotten out of control. Most of the remaining 35 children probably died." Y/N explained sadly.

Vanya stirred and she shot out of her seat. Bucky left to get the doctor while Y/N made sure she was stable. "Hey Vanya. What do you remember?" She whispered.

As Vanya sat up and got ready to answer, the only sound was the humming of machines and shuffling of bed sheets.

"I lost control. I destroyed the Academy and tried to destroy the tower, but you stopped me. I was so angry I- I've never felt that before." Vanya stuttered out.

"Your emotions were just too much, sis, it's okay. We're all okay. Doctor Banner and Tony are going to run some tests to figure out your powers but only if you're okay with it. It's up to you."

"I think I need some time to figure stuff out. Just please don't leave me alone here." She whispered.

"I promise."

October, 2019 Y/N stood on the roof of the Avengers compound at sunrise. Her comfortable clothes hung loosely off of her body and swayed with the wind. A duffel bag was gripped loosely in her hand and the rising sun made her eyes squint.

"They'll arrive soon." Bucky spoke from the stairwell.

"I know." She replied without looking back. His footsteps were heard behind her and she closed her eyes.

"You have a bag." He whispered.

"I do. Now that Vanya is better and in control, I think it's time I... dropped off."

"The grid? No, you can't just leave, not after everything." He snapped, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him, but he was shocked to find tears falling down her face.

"Don't you see, James. This is my thing. The disappearing act, isn't it? I can't plant roots anywhere."

"Not after everything!" He exclaimed.

"After what?" She sighed.

"The time I've spent with you."

She avoided eye contact with him as the quinjet landed. "Maybe your brothers and sister can convince you." He mumbled and she rolled her eyes.

The door opened and Klaus, Five, and Allison piled out all laughing. Allison's throat had healed so she could 'rumor' people. Klaus had been sober for months, and Five was just glad to be around real people.

Klaus stumbled down and grinned at the two. "Dear sister! And James, what a lovely surprise." He chuckled, patting him on the shoulder as they got closer.

"Yes, well. Your sister is planning on leaving, please talk sense into her." Allison turned on her sister.

"Leaving? But we just got comfortable here!" She exclaimed, resting a hand on her sisters arm.

"You always knew I would end up leaving, why are you so shocked?" Y/N chuckled, stepping away from them. "I always run. Disappearing is kind of my thing."

"We won't let you. Roots are a good thing, and these people care about us." Five argued. Y/N still looked reluctant.

"Y/N I saw you that day in the living room. I saw your entire facade crumble because of Reginald. He made you think you were worthless, and you aren't. You deserve happiness and a stable life. We can have that here." Klaus insisted. "I've learned that lesson, so should you."

Y/N looked at James and could tell by his face that he knew what her answer would be. "Alright, I'll stay. But one more word out of you and I walk." She poked James' chest and they laughed.