#but there are a few places where I feel like they... dumbed down Blackthorne too much?

[kyliafanfiction]

Blackthorne in the book definitely develops more facility with Japanese than in the show. Partly because the FX show sort of cut out the months long period on Anjiro, at least kinda.

[emmettblack]

He’s home alone when he gets the call. Vida’s out running errands as Emmett waits for her, watching TV with Bart and Gilly resting beside him. He doesn’t answer the first call, the screen showing his uncle's name. It’s probably nothing he thinks to himself until the second call. From his father. Something is wrong and they need him.

He answers but doesn’t get the chance to say anything. His father’s words stopped him from doing so. The phone call lasts for only thirty seconds before his father hangs up, leaving Emmett to just sit there with a tight jaw and expressionless eyes. Even with his two cats meowing and trying to get his attention, he doesn’t hear a single thing. All he can hear is his father’s words.

“We need you, Ji-Hun. It’s time for you to leave.”

tw: death (ish), violence, kashia’s bullshit

Emmett and Vida do live peacefully together! Okay, they do have their ups and downs every once in a while but they’re strong and continue dating. He’s happy, they’re both happy.

Unfortunately Polo dies in December of 2021. Emmett is heartbroken and doesn’t get another fish afterwards. No one can replace his favorite fishboy.

Treats Bart and Gilly as his actual children, probably loves them more than he loves Vida ( which is saying a lot ).

Three years into being a spy and Emmett finds himself no longer loving the job as much. It’s nice and all but it doesn’t… feel right. The only person to know of this is his grandfather who visits alongside Emmett’s grandmother. The two go out for lunch to talk about life and Emmett reveals this to the older man. His grandfather asks him the question “ are you sure this is what you want to do? “ Emmett is unable to answer him, his grandfather doesn’t push him. They move on from the topic and it’s never brought up again.

If you don’t think Emmett is considering proposing to Vida then you’re dead wrong! It’s on his mind but he just doesn’t have the courage to ask her. He’s waiting for the perfect moment to ask her, he just doesn’t know when.

So that phone call? Yeah, he gets it on August 24th, 2027. After that his entire vibe is just off. He doesn’t tell Vida about it, he can’t even though he wants to. Everything within him wants to tell her but he can’t do that.

It takes him a month to get everything ready. He puts in his two weeks notice with MI6 and asks them to keep it a secret. He doesn’t pack any clothes, leaves behind all electronics and cards as he disappears when Vida isn’t home. He has to cover all of his tracks so that no one is able to track him, mainly his girlfriend. His family gives him a new phone with a new number, a plane ticket, and a new identity. Emmett Blackthorne is gone.

BEFORE YOU CONTINUE READING!!!! This part of Emmett’s life will be roleplayed ( idk where aigaojgao ) so it might not be exactly like this rip. But either way, here’s a basic summary of what I want to happen. So please enjoy!!

He moves to South Korea and goes by a new name Yoon Woo-Jin. His parents suggested that he goes by his Korean name and mother’s maiden name, Cho Ji-Hun. However, he goes against it only because he knew that Vida would find him like that. He gets a place to himself and immediately starts working.

His mission? To help an old family friend destroy a new gang from the inside out. While new, the group is stronger than others and growing at a rapid rate. Said gang has been starting problems, doing everything in their power to take control of everyone within their vicinity. Emmett is to not only take down this gang by creating a rapport with them but to put the group into their place. Remind them to stay in their lanes and not to disrespect those older than them.

It’s not too bad, the mission. The worst part is the lack of communication. He’s not allowed to reach out to any of his friends, only his parents, his mother’s family, and those within the gang. He knows Vida’s number better than he knows his own. Almost texts and calls her throughout his entire stay. Drunk him can’t be trusted, he legit almost called her to confess everything. Stops himself every single time.

On Vida’s end, she’s going crazy. Ever since his disappearance, she’s been trying to find him. From asking around at work, reaching out to their friends, and even his family. The Blackthornes say nothing despite knowing where he is. No matter what she does or tries to look for, she can’t find him. For six months, she tries to find him, using every single one of her resources until there’s nothing left. It’s when she comes to a stop still that someone does reach out to her, Sunbin Blackthorne. Emmett’s mother.

During those six months, Emmett has risen in his ranks. He makes himself a useful and valuable asset. He poses as a dedicated member who will do anything for the leader, a man without a family, that’s Yoon Woo-Jin. The complete opposite of the family originated and fun loving Emmett Blackthorne. This new persona is quiet, keeps to himself, and does what he’s told. The leader likes that a lot about him, Woo-Jin is the man for him.

The only problem with him climbing the ranks so quickly is that people grow suspicious of him. They try to look into him, they watch him closely, and follow him wherever he goes. Emmett is forced to be even more careful and cautious of what he does and where he goes. Besides, at this rate, the gang will be destroyed within a few more months. He just has to hold off until then.

But not everything goes like he wants it to when Vida Torres arrives. He gets back to his apartment after a fight with another group where he sees her. Still as beautiful as ever, even as she glares at him with red eyes. He doesn’t give her a chance to talk before he pulls her in for a hug. He cries, she cries, they go inside his apartment. Unknown to the two are the peering eyes that watch the pair walk into the apartment.

Comes to find out that it was his mother who told Vida everything, the older woman giving in because she felt bad. To be left out of the loop about your partner’s whereabouts and mission, it was unfair and she didn’t deserve that. Apologies and a lot of yelling later, he tells her everything. “Just a month or two and I’ll be done. I’ll go back to you, I promise,” is what he tells her as he holds onto her tight. He only needed one more month and he’ll be fine.

Word about him having a girl got out, the other members teasing him about it. He can take petty and dumb teasing but he does not tolerate disgusting comments about the love of his life. One guy tries it, another member at the same ranking as Emmett. He doesn’t appreciate it, he attacks the guy. The two come out of the fight with bruises, a busted lip, and a black eye on the other guy. To the gang, Woo-Jin is always calm and doesn’t bother listening to any of them. Yet here he is, attacking one of them because of something they said about his girl. It’s called he’s in love you fuckers! This doesn’t go well, the other guy is pissed and he’s holding a grudge. Remember him everyone.

As for Emmett and Vida, well, he doesn’t tell her to leave. Honestly, he loves her company. Nor does he tell her to be careful, she’s a spy. If anyone tries to come for her, she’ll take care of them. He takes Vida to meet his mother’s side of the family. The Cho’s own a small restaurant, it’s really cute and homey. They’re a bunch of civilians who aren’t aware of the Blackthorne's true profession but they do know that the family is rich. It’s nice, the two feel normal being with them.

Unknown to the couple, the man that Emmett attacked is known as Lee Sang-Woo is already planning his revenge. He’s not a fan of this newbie climbing the rankings so quickly. Instead of attacking Emmett directly, he tries to find out who he is. By that, he wants to know where he came from and if he’s actually loyal to the group. Ends up finding a trace to the man that Emmett is really working for. Nam Do-Hun, the leader of a well established mafia with ties in the political world in South Korea and minor influences in the entertainment business. The Nam family are a group that had issues with this gang constantly entering their terrority. Using Emmett to destroy them from the inside is just a lot easier and cleaner to do than having them all killed.

But because of this small trace, it gets bad for Emmett and now Vida who’s staying with him. Instead of attacking the two, Sang-Woo and the gang leader set up a plan. The plan is to give Emmett a reason to contact the Nam family and have them meet him somewhere. Probably has him escort or watch over the gang leader. He falls for the bait because he’s been waiting for this moment.

The Nam family arrives but waiting for them is the gang. Big bad, a fight breaks out. Emmett, who is usually a king when fighting, is getting JUMPED by the gang leadr and Sang-Woo. But guess who comes to his rescue? You guessed it, the love of his life Vida <3. They’re literally kicking ass together because they’re SOULMATES.

During the middle of this big ol’ fight, Emmett sees Vida just kicking ass and he just blurts how much he loves her. And asks her to marry him. While people are fighting around them. While gunshots are being fired. She says yes. They kiss, they then go back to fighting.

The mission successfully ends but with casualties. Many were injured, some to the point where they were to be hospitalized. But either way, Emmett’s mission to destroy said gang comes to an end and he’s able to return home with Vida.

They get married :) It’s really cute, they’re both so happy, everyone is happy for them.

Emmett stops being a spy and goes down the route of assassination. Years later he becomes the new Blackthorne head. He loves it here <3

I KNOW THAT DEANNA AND HECATE WANT SATOMI AND TOMMY TO REOPEN BLACKTHORNE AND I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW!!!! EMMETT AGREES AND HELPS WITH REBUILDING THE SCHOOL. I can’t say much about it because I don’t know anything <3 Just know that he’s happy

Him and Vida have a lot kids! Most are children that they adopt, idk how many pls ask strud. The torthorne kids get to decide on if they want to become spies, assassins, or just civilians.

Very happy with his wife and children. Simply refuses to die and leave them behind so he works extra hard during each mission ( sometimes he comes back a mess but who cares <3 He’s alive )

Dies of old age <3

I love my son.

[lord-of-shadows]

it’s been over a year but i finally published another kitty fic! read it on AO3 or under the cut! kit’s POV, takes place during QOAAD. kit couldn’t sleep and neither could ty, so they seek comfort in each other. ~2k words. 

i hope you enjoy! feedback is appreciated :)

Kit was wide awake, staring at the ceiling above him, eyes straining to trace patterns in the utter darkness of his room.

It was one of those nights where his mind battled sleep until waking hours of the day—one of those nights where his memories flickered in his brain, forcing him to relive moments he had desperately tried to bury. The memory of the day he had first stormed into the Institute seemed to take prevalence, as it was the day his father died, the day he discovered his Shadowhunter heritage. Kit remembered how he had opened the Institute doors himself, unveiling the truth of his blood, and out of frustration, disbelief, and grief, he immediately escaped to the farthest room possible, away from the Blackthorns, away from the Shadowhunters his father had ingrained in him to loathe.

Now, as he stood up from his bed and quietly turned the doorknob, he regretted his choice.

His feet seemed to travel on their own as he made his way down the winding hallways, having gone down this path numerous times before—it was nearly second nature to him now, living the Shadowhunter life, and he was scared by how quickly he had grown accustomed to it. It was truly not that long ago when he first moved in, and yet, it felt like a lifetime. His footsteps were deathly silent—Kit always knew he was light on his feet, and he credited it to years of thieving and staying hidden, a trademark from Johnny Rook. Now, Kit suspected it had more to do so with his Shadowhunter blood. He could imagine Johnny Rook looking down—or should he say up?—at him now, disappointment on his face and an incessant crease on his forehead. Kit wiped the thought away, not wanting to reflect on his dead father, not wanting to remember the glimpse of white ribs as he saw his dad’s body being torn in half.

He finally reached his destination, leaning against the wall to catch his breath—panic was close to seizing him again with the thoughts of his dad, and the familiar feeling of wanting to escape rose in him. He just wanted to forget, wanted the thoughts to stop.

He lifted his arm, fingers curling into a fist, and his hand hit the door, and right before he could even lift his hand to knock a second time, the door swung open.

There, standing at the doorway, was Ty.

His hair, usually clean and straight, was a tangle of black curls, hiding the icy gray of his eyes that currently rested on Kit’s shoulder. Kit could see the dark circles underneath Ty’s eyes, could see the thin frame underneath his oversized shirt, could glimpse the chaos of the room behind him.

“You’re awake,” Kit said, and then felt dumb after saying it. Of course, Ty was awake. He was being plagued by his own demons at night like Kit was. They both needed to escape, needed to forget, needed everything to stop.

“I am,” Ty stated, removing his headphones and placing them around his neck. “And so are you.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.” Ty paused. Then, “I was actually about to go find you.”

Kit was speechless. Find me? Abruptly, he asked, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Before Kit could feel doubt rising in him, Ty immediately responded, “Yes. Wait—let me grab a jacket.”

He went back inside his room, the door shutting softly behind him, and Kit was suddenly aware of the thin cloth shirt he was wearing, the vast exposure of his arms, and the threatening windiness and cold of the night air waiting outside. Of course, Ty would think ahead and bring a jacket, he always planned ahead and never overlooked any small detail—while Kit just wanted to escape so badly, he left his room without a single idea of where he was going. He silently reprimanded himself.

The door opened, and Kit was met with Ty wearing a black thick jacket, so dark that it stood out, along with the black of his eyelashes that were currently fluttering against his cheekbones. Kit felt the all-too-familiar flip in his chest once again, and he pushed it away, focusing on the boy in front of him, who was currently holding out a lump of gray cloth, his face expectant.

“Here. It’s a little oversized, but it should work.”

To say it was a little oversized was an understatement. It went down to Kit’s thighs, but Kit realized it as the gray wool sweatshirt that Ty wore so often—he felt oddly touched by that—and the fact that it smelled so strongly of Ty, ink and sage and a hint of ocean air, made it all better.

“Thanks,” he said, a little breathless. Ty smiled weakly at him.

“We need to be quiet,” Ty whispered. “Julian will be very mad if he finds out.”

Any mention of Ty’s older brother with the word mad was enough to trigger fear in Kit, and so, as they both made their way downstairs and towards the backdoor, Kit refused to allow himself to exhale until the smooth texture of the sand was beneath his feet.

Kit immediately threw his shoes off, and looking back at Ty, he shouted, “Race you to the shore!”

Kit didn’t even check to see if Ty had heard—he began to sprint, relishing in the bitter cold of the wind hitting his face, the taste of salt clinging to his skin, the crunch of the sand between his toes. He could hear Ty catching up to him, and the shore was still a way’s off, but Kit was still ahead, running faster—

And suddenly, Ty appeared in front of him, running quicker than Kit would have ever thought was humanly possible. Ty reached the shore first, throwing his arms up in celebration, and Kit slowed down, stopping next to him. Ty turned, and Kit stood paralyzed at the grin on his face, the way his entire body seemed to transform, elevated and happy. He looked striking. He looked fascinating. He looked—

The smile vanished. Ty turned away, facing the ocean, eyes tracing the pattern of stars in the clear night sky. Kit released a quivering breath, then turned to join him.

They stood there silently, relishing in the tranquility of the moment. The moon glowed brightly amongst the stars, and the ocean breeze gently caressed their faces. Kit closed his eyes, feeling as if the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks could lull him to sleep, right at this moment.

“Kit, look.” Kit’s eyes snapped open, and he saw Ty a few spaces in front of him, pants rolled up, kneeling down to where the waves brushed against his knees.

Kit quietly moved closer, lowering himself to Ty’s level, peering closely at the water.

“I don’t see anything,” he said.

“Bioluminescence,” Ty marveled. “They’re microscopic, so you wouldn’t see them.” He bent down and cupped the water into his hands, the wind blowing against his hair, his face full of wonder.

Beautiful, Kit thought. He looks beautiful.

Ty lifted his hands towards Kit, and at first, all Kit saw was plain water, until he began to glimpse flickers of blue, glowing brightly in the moonlight.

“That’s so cool,” he said, amazed, and looked up—to find Ty staring right at him.

Kit’s breath caught, a shiver running up his spine. The lightness of Ty’s gray eyes was a stark contrast compared to the darkness around them; to Kit, it felt like he was gazing at the moon, losing himself in the neverending sea of stars, drowning in its vastness. He was so close, able to see the black curls of Ty’s hair standing due to the humidity, to notice the part of his lips as he inhaled. Ty’s hair fell over his eyes, mesmerizing Kit, sending an irresistible urge in him to reach up and push those strands back. It hurt. It hurt to look at him, a tightness inside his chest, as if he was suffocating.

Kit leaned closer, almost unselfconsciously, naturally, a magnet clicking in place. Ty closed his eyes, uncupping his hands back in the water, the tiny specks of blue lights disappearing in the waves.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke. “I saw you kiss Livvy.”

Kit was halted immediately in his tracks, his body seizing. He was speechless.

“By the rocks.” Ty opened his eyes, but his gaze was focused elsewhere. Kit had nearly forgotten—Livvy had asked him to kiss her, but they had both agreed to remain friends. Suddenly, he was hit with the realization that he had been Livvy’s first and last kiss.

The realization must have shown on his face as Ty quickly said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get her back. I promise.”

Kit widened his eyes. “No! It’s not like that at all!”

Ty furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t like her like that! She asked me to kiss her, and we both agreed never to do it again.”

“So you don’t want to get her back?”

“I—” Kit was at a loss for words. He couldn’t lie to Ty, but he couldn’t tell him that he thought resurrecting Livvy was a really, really bad idea. He focused on the sand beneath them, on the movement of the waves receding into the ocean. “I just want you to be okay.”

Ty sucked in a breath. “I can’t be. Not without Livvy.”

Kit recoiled, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to hold Ty, the same way he did on the roof, but he couldn’t. The truth was clear, had always been whispering inside him, he just only recognized its existence: Ty will never be whole again, not until Livvy was brought back.

They fell into silence, Ty's gaze drifting into the unknown depths of the ocean. Kit felt cold all over as if he was drowning again, the truth pressing down on him as he realized that Ty never cared—He never did, never will—

“What if I asked you to kiss me?”

Kit’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

Ty repeated himself, his voice shaking slightly. “Would you kiss me if I asked?”

A fever dream, Kit thought. That’s what this is. “Ty…”

Ty turned, his gaze intense, eyes resting on the bridge of Kit’s nose. “Is it because I’m a boy?”

“What? No!”

Kit could see Ty visibly relax. “Then why?”

He didn’t know what to say. Because it feels wrong to kiss you after your sister just died?

Because of how I feel like I’m choking every time I look at you?

Because it scares me how badly I want to?

He could imagine it: pulling Ty closer, leaning up to meet his lips, letting Ty choose the pace. He would be careful, gentle, allowing Ty to decide if he wanted Kit to touch him. He would savor the moment, however brief it might be.

But he couldn’t. Not when Ty was hurting, not when Ty was so driven on something else.

Kit sighed. “I just can’t, Ty. I can’t do that to you.”

Ty moved away, and Kit could feel something shatter within him. He had screwed up, as he always did, as he always will continue to do. Kit could tell Ty didn’t completely understand his excuse, but there was nothing he could do—the damage was done.

“We should go back,” Ty said as if nothing had happened. “We only have a few more ingredients left for the spell. We need to wake up early if we want to do more research.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kit said. He tore his gaze away from Ty, facing back towards the Institute. He couldn’t look at Ty any longer, or else the burning inside him would intensify, and he would begin to regret what he said.

They made their way back inside the Institute, sneaking in quietly—and to Kit’s utter relief, no Julian was waiting for them by the stairs. By the time they made it back to Ty’s room, Kit began to remove the sweatshirt, but Ty held up a hand.

“Keep it. I have plenty,” he said. Kit gaped at him.

“Are you sure?”

Ty nodded. “Yes.” Suddenly, albeit everything, he smiled softly, and Kit couldn’t help it—he smiled back. “I’ll see you in the morning."

“Right. Goodnight,” Kit responded. Ty closed the door softly in front of him. At last, Kit let out the breath that had seemed to be trapped inside him the entire night.

He stood there for a few moments, willing his heart to calm down. At that point, Kit hardly remembered walking back to his room, the door creaking softly as he opened it. He had half the mind to remove his shoes before collapsing in his bed, the softness and scent of Ty’s sweatshirt clouding his senses and the vision of gray eyes lulling him to sleep.

[packsbeforesnacks]

Tongue Twister || Noah & Winn

TIMING: Saturday, June 20th, 2020, during and after Luke and Layla’s party. LOCATION: The Magic Circle & Creed Park PARTIES: @noah-kalani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Noah and Winn figure some things out over a game of Twister. Things escalate. WARNINGS: Rated M for Mature. At least three (3) boners and some brief heavy petting.

Walking into the Magic Circle, Noah unbuttoned the last button on his yellow “Hawaiian” shirt, chest now actually bare against his blue boardshorts. He knew coming as a “surfer” might be a bit of a stretch for this crowd, but having lived in the jockiest of jock outfits for years he didn’t feel the least bit drawn to a hot football jersey. Or any other jersey for that matter. Nodding at the others, Noah headed towards the bar, chatting and drinking with Miles, Nate, Otto, and Luke, happy in the atmosphere of the party.

Winn, contrary to popular opinion, really hated bein’ late to shit. But Ariana’s damn Black Cherry White Claws had been a former frat bro’s living nightmare to find. At least he was here now, before the cake cutting. A light sheen of sweat on his arms and cheeks was the only sign that he’d been runnin’ around. Hiis (mesh) shirt helped with that problem, thankfully. Parties were always hot and Winn refused to sweat his ass off if he didn’t have to. He wasn’t wearin’ much else — rainbow track shorts, sneakers (hockey players didn’t have cleats and he wasn’t going to waste the money), and the looongest White Boy socks he could find. Winn dropped his cooler by the door (he’d find Ari in a sec), and his eyes immediately found Noah. Despite his, ugh, crush, he never could resist a surprise bear hug. He rushed the man, squeezing him from behind in the most heterosexual way. “Boo.”

Turning around to find out who was hugging him, Noah smiled. “Winn, you’re here!” he exclaimed with a bit of giddy excitement. “What do you want to drink? Nate just had a shot. And then there’s Twister and stuff over there.” Noah pointed to the corner where others were already starting to go at it.

Winn squeezed tightly, inhaling Noah’s scent. “Bro, you smell… really good?” He smiled, soft and sappy, before realizing that he was absolutely showing his hand. He let go of Noah as subtly as possible, nodding at— “Oh, shit, Otto? Wild place to meet up? And, hey, Blackthorne! Small world, architect bro!”

Letting Winn do his sniffing thing, Noah just took a long gulp of his beer. “It’s a party, dude, of course I smell great.” He snorted playfully. As Winn talked with his friends, Noah downed his beer, beelining for the Twister mat. He did not come practically shirtless for nothing. The Twister game was easy enough for Noah, as his body contorted into various shapes. What was the hard part was trying not to go down as the others fell around him. He was lucky that while others were also athletic, they didn’t have the ability to hold their position quite like Noah. And just as soon as it started, they were down to just Lucas and Noah. Knowing that the competition was going to be stiff with another athletic bro in the mix, Noah took a risk, deciding to play a little dirty, jiggling his pecs directly into Lucas’s face. And down Lucas went, unable to resist ogling at a few of Noah’s assets. Releasing his pretzeled bodyc Noah listened to the cheers with a grin on his face as Otto claimed him the Twister champion.  

Winn turned away from the counter, away from Otto, Miles, and Nate, just in time to see Luke and Noah duking it out on the magical (?) Twister board. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t. ‘Cause Noah was playin’ dirty on the hapless bisexual man beneath (and on top of?) him. So, Winn saw Noah wiggle his pecs, saw Noah win based on the strength of bein’ fucking gorgeous and charming. His mouth ran dry, drier when Miles joked “You know, might want to ease up on the pec wiggling. Lot of folks wearin’ sweats and trackpants.” Winn needed a drink, but Otto was moving out from behind the counter to declare the winner, and… Was it hot in here? It was hot in here. (He was wearing mesh and the jock equivalent of booty shorts, he knew. But it was, like, definitely just hot.) Pull it together, Winner.

Grabbing his shirt from the side of the mat, Noah couldn’t help but to grin as he threw it back over his shoulders. He honestly had not planned to flex hard enough to make poor Luke fall, but at the same time he was glad his assets had somehow come in handy — especially as Otto declared him the de facto winner. Riding the endorphin high, Noah gave a few back pats and good games before sauntering over to the one person he really wanted to talk to right now. “You saw that, right?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Winn, dimples on display. He wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted Winn’s attention, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to get something out of the usually flirtatious Winner Lycus Woods tonight.

“Um,” Winn said, extremely intelligently. Okay, bro mode. Go bro mode. “I saw you destroy the birthday boy, brah!” He bro-hugged Noah, giving him two slaps on his — wait, shit, shirtless — back, before pulling back and grinning wildly at the other man. “Who knew you were so flexible, yeah?” Wait. Gay. Gay as shit. Backtrack. “I mean, other than all those girls you bag, hahaha!” Laughing too loud again. Why the fuck had Noah come over here, flashed those dimples? Why couldn’t Winn fucking control his stupid ass around a cute boy. A cute, straight boy. Damn it. He was spared further mortification by the cake-cutting being called. He gave Noah another bro-pounding on the back for good measure — his skin was hot and nice — and said, “Cake? I made the fuckin’ thing, I should get the fuckin’ thing, yeah? YEAH!”

Looking at Winn, Noah raised a slight eyebrow, trying not to look too concerned for the man in front of him. This wasn’t like Winn at all. Like yeah, he was still flirty Winn. But the usual finesse seemed to be gone and was replaced by an almost uncomfortable awkwardness. And especially as he started talking about Noah’s body count. “Not that I would ever be one to dismiss my sexual prowess, but I think the thanks goes more toward all the Physical Therapists I’ve seen over the years. You think Twister’s bad, wait till one of those dudes has you on a table.” He chuckled, before the announcement about cake was made. “Oh yeah, I forgot Ari said you made the cake!” Excited about the prospect of stuffing his face (and potentially smashing someone's face in a piece), Noah found his hand resting on Winn’s lower back, cheekily pushing the other in front of him. “Lead the way, stud.”

“Not the way I want dudes to have me on a table, Noh,” Winn said automatically, trying to recover from the goddamn travesty that had taken over his social skills. But then, Noah’s hand was on his back, and Winn wanted to swear aloud. They were friends. Winn shouldn’t be flinching away from his friend’s touch, too scared of liking it. Liking it too much. But flinch he did, darting forward a full foot away from Noah’s hand the moment he heard stud come out of Noah’s mouth. Winn tried to save it, a strained “Race you?” to his friend, but it was flimsy at best. The table was close. He scrolled through better excuses. Bathroom? No, he’d miss the cake-cutting. Lean into the physical affection? No, he’d explode. Literally explode. But, fuck, he needed air, needed away from Noah. The problem was, he didn’t want to be away from Noah. He put some distance between them as they made their way over, hoping it wasn’t… obvious. He’d told Blanche and Ricky, he didn’t want to hurt this friendship. He didn’t. But… Fuck, maybe he needed some space. For a while.

Noah was not known to be one of the most astute of people, but he definitely was not dumb, and Winn was definitely being weird. Like super weird. Like he was even flinching away from his touch weird . What the actual fuck. Grabbing his shoulder Noah gently stopped Winn from moving any further, coming up to face him. “Winn, what’s going on with you?” he asked quietly, hoping his eyes screamed sincerity. Had he done something wrong? Shit. He’d done something wrong hadn’t he.

But no, Winn couldn’t do that to Noah. Not after his stupid misunderstanding. Not after Noah had poured his heart out to Winn. Noah deserved to know, and Winn would have picked a better time for this, but… He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then Noah was in front of him. Winn looked into his friend’s eyes. And he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t find it in him to lie, not looking into those eyes, again. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, he hoped, quietly and evenly. “I’m not breaking my promise,” he tried to assure, but realized that might sound bad. “That’s not even a possibility, Noh.” His throat was scratchy a bit, but he wouldn’t be the world’s worst packmate and make a scene at his friends’ birthday party. The pack had had enough misery, he wouldn’t add his own to the pile. “Let’s… Would you mind stayin’ after the party, for a little bit? We could, um, take a walk. Sober.” As much as Winn wanted liquid courage, he needed to be stronger than this. For himself, and for Noah.

Taking in everything, Noah felt his heart start to beat wildly. “We need to talk” was not exactly the most calming phrase in the history of phrases, especially when it was accompanied by Winn acting weird and bringing up his running incident again. And sober? Why the fuck did he want him sober? Resisting the urge to just flat out refuse to hear Winn out (because fuck fucking Winn and his mood killing vibe), Noah removed the shirt from around his shoulders, and started shoving his arms through, already feeling too vulnerable and bare for this right now. “It's fine. We can definitely talk later.” He nodded, as he resumed walking toward the cake. Looks like he was gonna need like 3 pieces if Winn wanted him to get through this night sober.

“Hey, hey,” Winn said, already knowing the signs of Noah tightening up, heard Noah’s heart slamming in his chest. He grabbed Noah’s hand as he was walking away, pulling the other man back again and giving his hand a firm squeeze. (Gay, his mind screamed.) “Seriously, Noh. Things are good. Really good, I promise. Let’s just act like we’re hangin’ out all chill-like. And you looked great without a shirt, bro.” There. Cool. Easy. Winn smiled, straightening up, and turned back to the cake-side of the room. Okay, change of plans. Don’t leave Noah’s side for long. Winn kept Noah’s hand tight in his, running circles and lines with his thumb, pulling him towards the cake. After the cutting (and where the hell was Layla?), Winn grabbed a piece of the cake (that he definitely couldn’t eat) and resolved to be the smooth, easy Winner everyone was expecting. Noah was always in his sight, and on his mind, the calm gravity of the other man leading him back again and again (he even refilled the man’s cake plate with his own slice). As the night dragged on, Winn loosened up, little by little. “Wanna play some Twister?” he asked, eventually, wiggling his eyebrows.

Feeling the tug of a hand intertwining with his, Noah allowed himself to be forcibly turned back, fully expecting to have a goddamn meltdown, lovers quarrel, whatever the fuck this was, right in the middle of the fucking birthday party. But when he looked at Winn, and listened to him qualify a bit more that this was going to be a good talk Noah could feel his anxiety and anger dissipate slightly. Winn wasn’t trying to hurt him, or make him upset, Winn was... reassuring him? Woah. Noah stared straight at Winn, mouth opening and then closing, any sort of rebuttal dying on his tongue at this sudden realization. Nodding, Noah just turned back toward the cake, hand in hand with Winn, figuring he could try to be chill (even though holding hands with Winn in the middle of a large crowded room made him decidedly not chill) After his prerequisite 3 pieces of cake, and a lot of laughter, Noah could feel his good mood comeback, the sugar in his veins making him giddy. “Only if you wanna get your ass handed to you.” He smirked at Winn “I am the reigning champ after all.”

“Bro, I’m going to smoke you like a joint,” Winn said, a soft chuckle. “I’m flexible as hell.” He looked down at his mesh crop-top, a small frown. But, well, Noah had been shirtless during his last game? So, it'd be… fine. Pulling the shirt over his head, and using it to dab at the light sweat on his face and chest, Winn winked at Noah. He could hashtag-flirt his way into being totally comfortable with this, right? Winn tossed it over behind the bar when Otto wasn’t looking, and got up in Noah’s face a bit, cocky smirk plastered across his mouth. Jocks did this, right? Jocks. “Wanna make a bet?” he said, suddenly bold. “Let’s make it interesting.”

“Yea well flexibility is only half the battle” Noah replied trying not to watch to closely as Winn divested himself of his own shirt. He’d avoided looking at them in the beginning, but the barebells in Winn’s nipple now caught his full attention. Fuck. That was…. Biting his lip Noah busied himself with looking annnnnnnywhere else. One day he’d ask Winn about them, but for now he was gonna pick his horny ass jaw up off the floor and play some twister. But then Winn got in his face and the wolf in him started to bleed through. “Depends. What are we betting?” Noah drew himself to full height, recognizing the alpha male energy Winn was trying to exude and matching it with equal and unflinching force. Two could play that game after all. “My first born is already promised to another.”

Aw, fuck. Noah was trying to alpha dog his way through this conversation. Winn had some regrets about wearing [compression] shorts and little else, ‘cause Noah made a convincing wolf even in his half-self. Regrets. But he could keep himself — and his head — in the game. “Well,” he said, word dripping out in his honeyed accent, “Can’t be nothing money can buy. Too easy for me to get out of. We’re not sitcom characters, so I ain’t gonna make you my errand boy for a week either. Hmm…” He put his finger to chin, making a big show of thinking. “What do you have,” Winn said, voice going from sweet to gravelly as he leaned in to talk into Noah’s ear, hot breath close, “to bargain with, Kalani?” Was anyone staring? Someone had to be seeing this.

Standing still, Noah cocked his head, smirk still splayed across his lips. This was starting to get heated, and it was safe to say that his wolf liked it, the whole confrontation with a heaping helping of sexual tension was something that Noah usually ate up when he was out with women. But then Winn was whispering in his ear, hot breath tingling against his neck, practically making his brain short circuit. And normally, he would have pulled away by now, the thought of all of these strangers eyes and thoughts too much to bear. But there was something about having three pieces of cake coursing through his blood stream, and the rainbow of lights, and the way Winn was pleading, no begging for him to just give up that had Noah digging his heels in. If Winn wanted a challenge, we was gonna get a fucking challenge “Well I usually bargain with my body, but…” He trailed off slowly, devilish dimples out in full bloom. Pulling away Noah winked before he turned and headed toward the Twister mat. Your move, Winner.

Noah looked… fucking amazing under the shine of the lights — the happy flush to his brown skin, those damn dimples. Winn could almost put them in another time, another place. A club in DC, the attic of the frat house. But one of the things about Noah that Winn wanted to drink in was his fight, the confidence in his challenges to Winn’s questions, Winn’s flirtation. And sure, maybe it was all actin’, but Winn was a selfish man. He’d take this. He could almost feel the steam rolling off their bodies when Noah mentioned betting his body, something in Winn clicking into place. It wasn’t a true bet, but the wolf was prowling now, sensing a dare. And though the human in Winn wanted to stamp down the hope-tinged-with-horny, the wolf in him knew it was fuckin’ on. “One-on-one!” Winn called out to Noah, standing across from him on the mat. “Winner takes all.” He grinned, staring pointedly at his friend.

Shrugging out of his button down, Noah draped it over the back of the nearest chair, his whole body tingling with anticipation. He loved flirting, he loved fighting, and if he was being honest with himself, he’d say that he also loved looking across the mat and seeing Winn, in all his glory. Happy. Grinning. Sarcastic. Flirty. Winn. “Sure” Noah responded, throwing a cheeky arm over his chest to stretch a little bit and he toed off his shoes. One on One would generally be harder than regular Twister but he was willing to accommodate the request “Though I think you mean Noah takes all, buddy boy” Switching arms, Noah grinned straight back at Winn.

Winn was glad they weren’t attracting too much of a crowd. It made him feel like Noah and he could just relax and lean into whatever their energy was. The first spins of the dial were easy, Noah and Winn dancing around one side of the board. “Swing your partner round and round,” Winn sing-songed, shoulders shimmying as he moved into the newest variation on “feet spread a normal amount apart.” But that quickly changed, as Winn felt them stretch from one side of the mat to the other with their hands, and then a leg. And, oh, alright. Okay. Ass. That was definitely Noah’s ass. Right in his face. Winn was near-touching it, his breath easy on the dip of Noah’s back. “Bro, have you been working your glutes? Lookin’ tight,” he quipped just loud enough for Noah to hear, trying to distract himself. Fortunately for him, the next spin allowed him to try and reposition himself. Try.

Stepping onto the mat Noah put on his game face, competitive spirit already coursing through him. He didn’t exactly know what he was gonna win but goddamn if he wasn’t going all out to do so. Snorting slightly at the other man’s sing song as they repositioned their feet, Noah was focused on finding the best moves which meant that for the most part he couldn’t see Winn. But maybe that made things better, and especially when he ended up pretzled across the Twister board full blown ass in the air. Normally he wouldn’t care, but at the same time…. This was definitely newer territory for both he and Winn, as made obvious by the older man’s obvious deflections. “Keep talking about my tight ass and I’ll be sure to fart on you” Noah joked with a chuckle as he angled even closer to Winn. Exploiting a weakness was how he won the last game and Winn would be mistaken if Noah wasn’t going to use his body to his full advantage.

“Not my kink,” Winn mumbled, as he was taken away from Noah’s ass and… being stretched back, fully, palms down in green, feet fully in red. Noah had an easier time of it, given he was facing downward. Hard yoga, but still doable. Winn was super glad he stayed in shape, ‘cause this stretch was rough. But… Well, if Noah was going to play dirty (if gross), Winn could mess with him. That damnable hope was back, and Winn wondered if… if Noah was flustered, or confused, maybe? César had been, and it would be on-brand for Winn to be (romantically) attracted to hapless bisexual disasters and hapless bisexual disasters exclusively. And while Twister wasn’t talkin’, it had its perks. The color moved Winn’s left hand from green to yellow, and back again -- but Noah had decided to fuck with him today, apparently. His hands ended up crossed behind him, and, given he was still bent backwards, it had to look… awkward, from the outside looking in. “Noh,” Winn whispered, jerking his head forward in a tiny nod to his hips, where they bucked as subtly as he could manage. “If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask.” God, I hope the pack didn’t hear that.

“I’d be alarmed if it was,” Noah shot back with a laugh as they kept up their dance, Noah muscles starting to burn a little from having to keep his weight off the floor in his twisted position. Apparently, he needed to put some more stretching into his workouts, but that was a problem for another day, especially as he saw his opening. Diving forward, Noah took the offensive and claimed the green spot that would be more convenient for Winn, forcing the other man to cross his arms. Glancing backwards at the sad pretzel of a man — who may or may not have just thrust his hips at him? naughty, naughty — Noah just snorted again. “True, but this is definitely more fun.” Yup, definitely more fun, and less… sexy? No, actually, Twister might be making everything more sexy… But that was a crisis for another day. Hopefully.

Winn breathed a sigh of relief as he was given a temporary reprieve from testing the limits of his flexibility. “Don’t think you’ve ever tied anyone up before then, bro.” He laughed weakly. A thin sheen of sweat was obvious on his chest, and arms, and face. Christ, Noah had been smart to stretch a little before starting; Winn had been too, uh, cocky. And, fuck. If he had to stretch like that again, he’d lose. And… well, neither of them knew what they had bet, Winn was sure, but Winn wasn’t about to lose it, lose to Noah. It felt like this was playin’ for more than braggin’ rights and Winn wasn’t sure whether that was real or imagined. But he was a winner. Literally. He was right-side up now, Noah’s back still to him. As the color changed once once, his crossed arms stretched — just barely — to red and yellow. But, because God had a sense of humor or really did hate the gays, now Winn was all up in Noah’s ass again. And then, the hand that had just moved to yellow was told to go to green. Shit. Winn stretched out, trying as hard as possible to reach over without pullin’ his arm out of its socket. ‘Course, then it all went shit-side. “Fuck.”

“Not seriously. Last time I tried, I was the one being tied. Being restrained isn’t really my cup of tea, to be honest,” Noah mused through gritted teeth as they fumbled through another grueling hand position. He didn’t exactly know why he told Winn that, but the smalltalk was better than them silently thrusting parts of their body parts at each other with zero remorse. Or at least zero remorse on Noah’s end, one of his best assets once again in Winn’s face. Grinning to himself, Noah urged his arms to hold his weight as he stretched for what seemed like an impossible color. But of course it was then, as both boys moved that the world decided they were pushing too far, and in a series of unfortunate events, Noah lost his balance and fell. Onto Winn. His lap, specifically. “Shiiittttt,” Noah breathed out as both men crashed to the floor.

[Maybe break it into Part 2 here?]

The world was spinning, and it was silent. Once again, Winn felt like he and Noah were the only two in the world. Even the couple of folks that had been watching their nonsense seemed shocked into silence at this particular turn of events. Winn, breathing hard, let his head fall forward onto Noah’s shoulder. It probably should have been gross, both of them covered in sweat, but Winn didn’t really fuckin’ care. He started laughing, high and delighted and clear, before wrapping his arms around Noah in a tight hug. Through the sweat, Noah smelled good, warm, safe, happy. But, ‘course, it couldn’t last, Winn suddenly hyper aware of Noah’s body against his. Miles’ joking caution was becoming a very real problem, Winn nudging his hips up against Noah as he shifted and mentally cursed the theme of his party with all the venom in his arsenal. “Uh,” he whispered into the other man’s ear, “I don’t have the Full Moon as an excuse this time, but I have a problem. And I’m so, so sorry. Can we, um, chill like this for a sec? Get up together or somethin’? Don’t want to flash the room.”

If Noah was going to fall, he guessed the best way to fall was with Winn. Sitting there, laughing and giggly, on the ground, neither could say they won, but at the same time Noah was so gone right now he didn't really care. Because he was safe here in the sweaty arms of Winn. Even if those arms were attached to a really responsive body. “Wait, are you sporting, again?” Noah huffed, trying to roll over so he was face to face with Winn instead of, well, not. Realizing, though, that that was just going to make everything much, much worse, Noah calmed and stopped squirming, resigning himself to just, well, have a semi hard part of Winn pressed into the lower section of his back. Which if Noah was thinking about it wasn’t actually like totally… weird or, like, completely unwanted now that he was thinking about it... But again. Crisis for another time. Looking up at the ceiling, Noah tried to focus on not making their predicament worse, the only way he knew how. With offensive humor.  “Well, since we’re here for a bit, serious question for you, bub.” He poked the offending arm around his middle, making sure Winn was listening. “Are you, like, a nymphomaniac or something?” Noah turned his head and grinned up at the other man, hoping he could see this was all fun and games. “Cuz it seems like everytime we get close together you get hard.”

This was the nightmare scenario, but Winn couldn’t be assed to give a shit. Noah squirming against his lap felt good, and Winn had to muffle a groan into the skin of Noah’s back. Fortunately, he seemed to understand and stopped. ‘Course, Noah was always a joker, and, as he asked an extremely joking question, Winn felt his entire body flush, stammering out, “I— Uh, I mean.” Noah was joking, Winner. Joking. Calm the fuck down. “Shut up,” he finished, lamely. The embarrassment, at least, was killing his boner. He wasn’t used to feelin’… vulnerable, like this. And though Winn had a pretty thick skin, he knew Noah could ruin him with a word, a look. Realizing that he hadn’t technically answered Noah’s question, and knowing that Noah deserved an answer because this was almost exactly how they’d first spent time together and it couldn’t be written off as base horniness anymore, he sighed against Noah’s ear. “Let’s get out of here, Noh. Meet me outside in five.” He hoisted both of them up, boner subsided enough to not be obvious in the dim lights of the bar. No winner had been declared, but he really didn’t care right now. Noah could have the victory, could have all of him. Fuck. He was really gone, huh? Winn circled the room, picking up his shirt and giving goodbyes, and walked out the door to wait for Noah on the street.

It was safe to say that Noah expected a lot of things from this exchange, but what he really did not expect is for Winn to start stuttering. Looking back at the other man Noah took in the flush splattered across his cheek bones, the way he dodged his artfully dodged his question. If Winn had been a girl Noah would have said he had a crush on him somehow. But Winn wasn’t a girl. Winn was… Wait. Oh Shit. The sudden realization hit Noah like a pile of bricks, flatlining any type of response that he could have had. Because it was obvious wasn’t it? Grabbing his own shirt off the chair he’d placed it on, Noah ran on autopilot, barely remembering the hugs and the goodbyes, his head filled with Winn and Winn only. Slipping out of the door, Noah walked until he found the other man standing under a streetlight, the soft glow making his features stand out even more. This wasn’t the first time Noah had looked at Winn like this, as something more than what they both knew they were, but it was the first time Noah looked at Winn like this. “Soooo, what’s up?” Noah asked gently, sincere brown eyes looking at Winn for the answers.

“Let’s walk,” Winn said back, just as quiet as Noah. His palms were sweaty, like a teenager with their very first crush. If this were casual, Winn would have propositioned Noah, been turned down, and moved on. But he just had to catch feelings. Creed Park was nearby, and Winn plopped down on the ground next to a tree at the edge of the park, the fading light and early summer breeze blowing against them. He patted the spot next to him, looking up at Noah. “C’mon, sit with me.” Winn smiled gently. The Twister game had given him some hope, and he was half-sure that Noah had guessed already, but he had to push forward. “Noah, I think you’re my best friend,” he started, completely ignoring the actual issue. “So, I want you to know. You’re important to me. More important than I really thought would happen when we me— Actually. No. That’s not true.” He laughed, his head thunking against the bark of the tree. “I met you, and I knew. I didn’t know what, but something told me… You were important. Are important.”

Walking along with Winn, Noah could start to feel his heart start to beat rapidly in his chest again. He shouldn’t be nervous, but with all this build up and tension, and that fucking sudden realization that Winn actually liked him, had his head spinning. Because Luke was right, they’d been dancing around each other unable to admit what was truly going on. “Winn,” Noah started taking a deep calming breath, “if you’re gonna say what I think you’re gonna say, just—” He stopped for a moment glancing over at Winn, brown eyes meeting brown “Just say it, please.” It came out softly, part of Noah pleading for Winn just to do it, and another part scared of what it would mean when the giant ass elephant was finally out in the room.

Oh. He does know. Winn’s heart was heavy-light — fluttering and hopeful, but slack and stony. But there was something about Noah’s eyes, the way that the setting sun was shining soft light on both of their bodies. It made Winn bold, giddy, nervous. He was going to die. Or maybe… “Noah,” Winn said, like a revelation. Well, why the fuck not? The werewolf closed the distance between him and his best friend, the person he’d falle— Oh, but, the kiss. Noah’s lips were so, so soft, the slightest hint of chocolate on the man’s breath. When he didn’t get punched or pushed away, Winn brought his hand up to Noah’s face, his other arm tentatively resting at Noah’s side. He wasn’t going to move further, not without Noah’s permission, without Noah kissing back, but he wanted to stay in this moment of pure, crystalline happiness. Winn felt himself smiling into the kiss.

For Noah, everything happened in slow motion, Winn’s face coming forward, their lips meeting in the middle. Kissing Winn was not like any woman he’d ever kissed. Where there usually was softness, Winn was full of edges, sometimes sharp, and sometimes dull. It was scary how much Noah liked it. How much he could now see just how fucking gone he was for this man. There was no doubt about it. Noah wasn’t straight. Noah wasn’t straight, and there was a part of him, however small, that loved Winn. And now that that door was open, there was no closing it. Sitting there trying to hold himself together, with his own arousal and all these other complex feelings overwhelming him Noah just took a deep breath. Neither had moved since this started, but Noah knew they couldn’t just continue without talking about what happened. Winn wasn’t just some quick fuck, and this wasn’t something Noah could bury. “I’ve never kissed a man before, Winn.” Noah trailed off shaking his head slightly. “I mean, judging from this I don’t think I’d be opposed but, I don’t….Fuck…. This is not a good answer is it?” Noah looked down. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Winn by not being able to reciprocate in the way he knew he should. But this was all so difficult and honestly frightening.

If Winn was being honest, the kiss had left him in a bit of a daze. When Noah had kissed back, however briefly the moment had lasted, Winn realized, damnably, that he could kiss Noah for the rest of his fuckin’ life. The gigawatt smile hadn’t left his face, even as Noah started talking about being scared. Winn had been here, before. Not in the same way, no, but he could stow his attraction for a moment, focus on his friend in front of him, nervous and confused, and offer him what he had been given: Support. “That’s alright, Noah,” he started, hand coming to Noah’s shoulder, rubbing the tension out as best he could. “You don’t need a perfect answer. We all have to… figure out shit out, y’know?” He wanted to hug the other man, but knew he should hold off, if only for the moment. “It’s alright to be… however, you’re feeling, right now.” He understood, really, he did. This was far from the worst case scenario he’d run through in his head, far from the worst case probable scenario, too. “I don’t need you to be anything more than you already are, Noh. Because… I really like the person you are. Forgot to say that, ‘cause I figured… actions, y’know?” He laughed, a quiet and private thing, only for Noah’s ears. Winn ran his fingers through the grass at his hips, picking at the blades with his fingers. “I— There’s no one else I’d rather be next to, right now. No matter how you feel about me.” He paused, looking back up and into Noah’s eyes, before saying with a soft smile, “Or… don’t feel.”

“But you deserve a perfect answer” The phrase was out of Noah’s mouth before he could stop himself, before he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Winn was right afterall, he didn't need to have it all figured out today, or tomorrow. He just needed to be himself. “Sorry I’m just-” He started not really knowing what he wanted to say but knowing something needed to be said “I’m used to holding everything together so well, and ever since i met you..” Noah trailed off leaning back against the tree with a sigh. Winn apparently had a whirlwind effect on his life. Watching him be vulnerable though, and supportive, brought Winn into a new light for Noah. One where he could see them, working through all of these  issues together. But first Noah had to be real with himself, and real with Winn, even if it was in his own way. “Well considering I’m having a complete sexual crisis over your dumbass,” Noah huffed playfully “ think it’s safe to say I feel some type of way Winn.” Because yea, how could Winn even begin to fathom that Noah didn’t like him back? Looking over at the other man, Noah stilled his hand with his own, his curiosity making him feel brave “What do you like about me?” He asked gently.

Winn felt himself flush again, and he leaned his head into Noah’s shoulder, groaning. “C’mon, bro. You can’t just say shit like that, and expect me not to feel like this.” To fall in love with you, he didn’t say. Not yet. “I haven’t… felt this way about someone in a really long time, Noh,” he said gently, knowing the other man could hear him. There was something about this, leaned into Noah’s shoulder, that made it easier to say all of this aloud. Noah’s hand on his was warm, and Winn turned his up to grab the man’s hand with his own, rubbing circles once again, tracing nonsense lines to hide his nervousness. For someone who spent half his life dealin’ with others’ emotions, he’d never been amazin’ with his own. “What wouldn’t I like about you?” he said, perhaps a little too honestly. And then, clearer, “You’re not afraid to call me on my shit, but you never stop… caring, when you do. You love animals, and are such a bleedin’ heart that I worry I might have t’patch you up sometimes. You’re smart and a smartass. I laugh when I’m around you more. I feel good, and safe, and… happy.” He took his hand off the man’s shoulder, looking at him again, head cocked. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to do bad things to you, Kalani, but I want to, y’know, do good things to you too. For you.” It wasn’t quite an asking out, but it was as close to a confession as he’d said, so far. Winn squeezed Noah’s hand tight, leaning back against the tree to look at the horizon. “A crisis, huh?” His tone was light, but he wouldn’t dare make fun of Noah for this.

Resting his head against Winn’s own, Noah chuckled at the other man’s discomfort, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He didn't know how they got to this point, but he was glad they had. Feelling his cheeks burn scarlet with the force of Winn’s description, Noah was glad the other man couldn’t see him right now. He’d never had anyone describe their infatuation with him quite like that, and it made him feel, well, seen. He was more than just a nice-looking body to Winn. That felt good. It was then that Winn brought him back to the real problem at hand, the one Noah was still scared to admit out loud. “Yeah,” he whispered, wishing this was easier, wishing he was less confused. Lifting his head from Winn’s, Noah had a sudden realization. “Winn. Can I... uh, do something?” Noah asked a gleam of mischievous energy in his eyes. He was mostly sure by this point, but there was still a part of him that wanted to know concretely, to prove that it wasn’t a fluke somehow. “Promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Winn had Noah blushing at his (genuine, heart-felt) smooth-talking, and he couldn’t help the return of his goofy, open, maybe-a-little-bit-in-love smile. They would be okay, no matter what happened. He knew that. And Winn got an answer — though not all of one — the next time Noah opened his mouth. The whispered ‘Yeah.’ Winn inhaled, sharp and interested. Fuck. That was… a lot to take in. Or would have been, if Winn’s brain hadn’t been immediately guided to the gutter. Do something? He really liked the sound of that. “Oh yeah?” he said, countering the look in Noah’s eyes with a toothy grin, reflecting back the ask, the challenge. Winn leaned back, into Noah’s side, Winn’s body spread out beneath the white ash for any of Noah’s somethings. “Promises, promises,” Winn said with a wink, looking up at the other man. This time, truly, nobody was around. It was just them, and all the time in the world to find answers. Winn leaned up, close to Noah’s ear. “Baby,” he said, a whisper in the wind, Winn tryin’ out the word in his mouth, “I’d enjoy just about anything you did to me. So…” He chuckled, rough, trying to communicate how much he wanted. “Make your move, Kalani.”

If there was a time for Noah to be brave, that time would definitely be now, especially as Winn gave him full permission to explore. Turning his body, Noah gently angled Winn’s face with his hand, looking into his eyes for a brief second before pressing their lips together again. He didn’t know what he wanted, and he didn't know if this was going to answer all the questions swirling in his head, but at the moment Noah didn’t care. Because right now he was kissing Winn, slowly and sensually, using his tongue to explore and open Winn up in ways he hadn’t even thought about till now. He didn’t usually kiss his partners like this. No, Noah was usually more of a fast and hard kind of lover. But with Winn. Goddamn it was just so different with Winn, and while that was scary to realize, it was also something Noah knew he wanted. He wanted a lot as evidenced by the rising tent in his board shorts. Yeah. He was definitely into kissing dudes. Tugging softly on Winn’s lip, Noah opened his eyes and pulled away, lungs suddenly filling with the air he’d forgotten he needed to breath. “Mmm, not your baby,” Noah whispered with a cheeky grin before turning and settling against the tree.

Winn’s eyes crinkled at the edges with his smile as Noah kissed him. Mm. Strike maybe. Winn really could kiss Noah forever. The other man’s mouth moved against his with simultaneous experience and hesitation, something that Winn could lean into easily. Especially when Noah slipped him tongue. Winn kissed back eagerly, trying to balance his need (and fuck, these shorts were going to strain) against wanting this moment to stretch and stretch. As Noah pulled away, gently biting into Winn’s lip, Winn chased him, nipping back playfully. Winn almost wanted to tell Noah it was a wolf thing, that biting was heavily encouraged. But he didn’t want to break the moment, not yet. Instead, he gazed down to where Noah’s interest was making itself known. Huh. Well, one to four wasn’t an awful record. Be plenty of time to even the score. “Hmm.” Feeling bold, Winn grabbed Noah, squeezing once through the shorts before letting go again. “Don’t think bein’ called baby is really goin’ to be a problem, baby,” he teased, savoring Noah’s reaction, drinking in the other man’s presence. He leaned back, side pressed into Noah’s, eyes closed in happiness. “Answer any questions for you, Noh? Or do you need further testin’?”

Snorting, Noah rolled his eyes. Winn’s hand had sent a shockwave straight through his system, blood already pooling in his groin. “Bruh, that’s not helping the predicament,” Noah chided with a snort, not brushing Winn’s hand away but stilling it yet again with his own. Because, yeah. Dick touching was next on the agenda, but he might need a few moments to adjust to that. “I think I’m good, for now,” he started, hoping Winn would get the hint, not that he thought he wouldn’t, it was just. It was different. For once in his life, Noah didn’t want to go zero to sixty and hop in bed with the first person who showed interest. He wanted to savor every interaction, build memories that would last, and all that jazz.  

“Didn’t want to help, bro,” Winn said, a low rumble as he squeezed Noah’s hand in his own, resting both of them on Noah’s thigh. Far away, and so, so close. “I like to make things harder for you.” He mentally high-fived himself for his pun, before smiling at Noah. “I get that,” he said thoughtfully. Winn, again, ran his thumb across the back of Noah’s hand, hoping to communicate so much with that gentle, almost tentative, action. I want this. I want you. I’ll give you whatever you need. Time. Or all of me. The thoughts were big, heavy, and warm in his heart. He wouldn’t dare admit it yet, but he knew how he felt about Noah, how much he felt about Noah. It was his turn to be scared — scared of fucking it up, scared of somehow ruinin’ Noah for other men. If there were other men. (Winn hoped there weren’t other men.) But his fear didn’t last long, as he turned and pressed one more gentle kiss to the corner of Noah’s mouth, all he could think about was how lucky he was, that all this shit had been leadin’ to somethin’, leadin’ to this. He rested his head on Noah’s shoulder, back scratching through the mesh against the bark of the tree, and, softly but with all the sincerity he could muster, Winn said, “Noah…” A soft chuckle, content and affectionate. “This is the part where I ask you to go out with me. Pretty please, sweetheart?” And the nickname tasted like chocolate on his tongue.

[blckthvrns]

Have you seen ATHENA BLACKTHORN? THEA is in SOPHOMORE year. The ACTING MAJOR is/are 20 years old & is a ARIES. People say SHE is/are OUTGOING, TENACIOUS, QUICK TEMPERED and CALCULATING. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE CONVINCED HER HISTORY PROFESSOR TO LEAVE HIS WIFE FOR HER, AND THEN LEFT HIM.

(repost for the new acct, she hasn’t changed she’s still awful)

❣ . STATISTICS

name : Athena Rosaline Blackthorn

nicknames: Thea, T, Thena

age : twenty

school year : sophomore

major : acting / film studies

date of birth : 2nd april

zodiac sign : aries

sexuality : pansexual

+ traits : outgoing, tenacious

- traits : quick tempered, calculating

❣. PERSONALITY :

Thea is outgoing to a fault, the first to raise her hand in a lecture and one of the last lingering at the end of class, chatting to her classmates.

thrives being in calloway, loves the elitism of it all, the romanticism of secret letters and iron clad gates of society secrets.

a mix between cher horowitz, blair waldorf, veronica sawyer & a hint of eve polastri

likes who she likes and hates who she doesn’t, always one to veer sharply one way or the other. Indifference isn’t something she often feels towards people, though it’s usually due to the fact that to her, it means they’re just plain forgettable.

can be incredibly easy to get along with when she wants to be, insufferable the next.

probably considered more often than not a drama queen by most, one of those out there acting majors who craves a spotlight and a table to dance on.

❣. BACKGROUND :

Athena is one of quite a few blackthorn children, all born to leander and apollonia blackthorn. She and her brother were born together on a cloudy night in early April, Thea born first, desperate to make her way into the world with a wail of strong lungs and tenacity.

the blackthorns themselves have a bit of a tumultuous history, scarcely heard of before their rise into the ranks of the wealthy in 1921. Very Kennedy-esque, prominence now runs in their blood. But power and wealth always come at a cost.

Some call their family cursed, whether it be the will of a scorned witch or karmic justice balancing the world once more, living and loving as a blackthorn was never intended to be easy.

& while Thea doesn’t want to believe in the curse, it’s hard to ignore. Blackthorns die, or their loved ones die, it’s all one big circle of death and heartbreak and she can’t exactly deny it. If anything she points it out when it’s convenient to her, an excuse, a reason, a justification for behaviors she indulges in.

In her own mind, her version of the curse upon them is unforgivable. Is it a worse curse to lose the ones you love, or to never feel that grip of love to begin with? To never truly be lovable keeps her alive and well sure, but that chasm in her chest remains unfilled.

Growing up in a family where competition was as common as breathing made her stronger, if not smarter. Named after the goddess of war, to her it was a blood right. She learned to outwit to get what she wanted, what she lacked in stature or strength she had tenfold in wit and charm. Innocent eyes and a conniving little need to have her way. Her brother, while her other half, was all the heart, where she remained the head. It worked for her, in most ways.

went to a boarding school in europe for most of her early education, spending winter breaks and summers back in romania when she could.

Thea thrived on attention, and tried out a few hobbies and extracurriculars before acting became her passion. It was fun to her, to become other people with emotions and dreams so different from her own. It was fun seeing what those characters brought out in other people. If she didn’t like what she was given, she could shift, change, become someone better. Maybe just maybe, you never knew her at all. try again, look at the surface once more.

convinced her parents to allow her to attend of all things, a public school in manhattan. LaGuardia School of Music & Art to be exact, too many gossip girl fantasies interwoven with the knowledge of the stars its campus produced, she begged and pleaded and argued until she got her way. truly her biggest con to date.

Thea spent those years diving into becoming unending versions of herself. Took in the world around her, a city that never slept full of millions of souls to bare. She went out, partied, discovered, lived the life free of chains of her own making for once

The fact that she HERSELF was never discovered and whisked away to stardom she chalks up to another result of her curse. To be adored, but never truly loved. To be wanted, but never feel that love within herself for someone else. Was she unlovable, or just incapable of feeling it? She could scratch up every emotion under the moon in a second for performance. Anger, grief, passion. But love? Thea wasn’t sure she’d ever feel it.

She dated of course, various boys and girls at school or those whirlwind affairs on her summers home. But nothing ever lingered, ever stuck. She was always meant to be a little too much, yet never quite enough to hold on to. But the rush of feeling like someone’s entire universe was quickly an addiction.

Lust, was something else entirely. Lust was primal, immediate, and something she could cling to. She slept around and had her fun, but never let it linger, never stayed after to see whatever would soon cloud her partner’s gaze,

Coming to Yates was in part for the theatre department, but mostly for the whispers of the existence of the societies mentioned by her brothers. Call it a terrible fantasy, but visions of dark academia aesthetics and elite college life pulled her in. In her eyes her big break is still on the horizon, just a little further than anticipated.

Which brings us to last fall, her first year on campus. Met her history professor, noticed the way he couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was a new kind of thrill, having a weird sort of power over a grown man. He called her his ‘little goddess’ a term she found a bit condescending but whatever, the attention was devoted, almost reverent. It was easy to see how far she could stretch it, gifts he would give her, sweet nothings of their could be future if he just did something about it.

& After a while of doing nothing more than exchanging messages, having secret coffee dates out of town, he mentioned leaving his wife so they could start over, be the love story he envisioned them as.

That was when Thea realized what it would entail, how the rest of the little fairy tale would play out once the fun little scandal of it all faded. Doting housewife to a history professor, step mom to two teens who sounded already annoyingly perfect on paper. All mapped out. Gross, in summary. So he made his plans, and she made hers. Her plans left him in the dust, even as his divorce papers were signed sealed, delivered.

So she’s newly single-adjacent, though not sure where it’ll take her next. Her focus is back where it belongs on her and her alone, where she hopes it stays.

❣. HEADCANONS :

she loves being loved. It is a part of the reason she’s so quick to fall into another ‘role’ for others, tweak her words, expressions, make herself the most lovable version in their eyes. There has never been a moment where she’s felt it in return but to receive

Moments of adoration and appreciation fuel her like nothing else. She’s an actress, she needs applause and validation to live.

While her relationships with her siblings have always been incredibly complex in her eyes, her relationship with her twin brother is the one that’s faced the most hardship. Connected at the hip for their early years, incredibly distant in locations the rest, she wonders if he truly loves the person she’s turned into. If any of them are capable of loving who she is now.

she’s smart, genuinely very bright and just uses that fact for her own devices. Playing dumb might get her where she needs to be in some occasions, but she plays the long game. being named after a god of war is something that sticks with you after all.

watching terrible reality tv is her comfort, often spends half the show critiquing the wardrobe and the other half exclaiming how much better an option she’d be if it were her in their place.

loves to party, loves to drink, though drugs scare her. Something about the possibility of a complete loss of senses or control is something she’s never been able to repeat after a really bad trip back in new york.

drink of choice is fucking cosmo bc, carrie bradshaw.

❣. POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS :

a best friend! whether they met in new york or when she got to yates, someone who’s her ride or die friend who sees all of her shit and loves her despite it.

someone who is very much just not that into her. girl can bat her eyes and smile that smile and still?? nothing. probably drives her insane.

one night stands, ex hookups, current hookups. sometimes she gets around, we been knew. maybe even an ex bf or gf? maybe once things got serious, she killed the relationship before they inevitably realized they didn’t want her.

a fwb solely for when they just need a little fun? Can be very little feeling involved beyond thinking the other is attractive. Probably don’t even see the light of day in each other’s presence.

straight up enemies, hate each other on sight, probably drag each other to pieces

a verbal sparring partner?? girl is full of opinions whether it be in classes or life in general. someone to knock her down a peg or three and enjoy it. Could also be weird intellectual foreplay?? who’s to say.

literally anything else! come at me, let’s do some shit.

[ti-bae-rius]

Pre-QoAaD release fic (Kitty) Part 2 of 2

(TW: The Cohort being assholes, mention of grief/death.) Obviously, LoS spoilers. This was kind of meant to be a fun little fic before QoAaD releases. Yes, I did leave this very late.

You can read part 1 here!

As soon as the portal guard checked their portal pass and marked it void with a stamp, handing it back to Ty, the two set off through the halls of the Gard. The moment they turned a corner, out o view and earshot, Ty stopped.  “Okay, the meeting is in the basement. I scoped the room and I found a place we can listen in from. Come on.” The two of them hurried down some stone spiral stairs and when they reached a corridor at the bottom, Kit looked along the walls that were lined to the floor with tapestries showing important events in shadowhunter history. Halfway down the hall, Ty reached out and drew aside a tapestry emblazoned with a depiction of Jonathan Shadowhunter and his sister Abigail. He saw Ty’s eyes linger wistfully on the art before he beckoned Kit. Ty pulled a hairpin from his bag and shoved it into the lock of a door behind the arras. “Don’t you have a rune for this?” Kit hissed as Ty jiggled the hairpin in the door. “My track record with open runes isn’t great,” Ty shot back. Kit nudged him out of the way impatiently and took the pin from Ty’s hand. In the fifteen years living with his father, Kit had learnt to pick a lock. The mechanism gave and the door popped open, the boys dashing in and shutting themselves into the dark room as Zara’s familiar voice came on the other side, along with dozens of footsteps. “That was close,” Kit breathed. A ray of light tore through the dark room. Ty had a small torch in his mouth, held between his teeth. He motioned to a ladder attached to the wall and indicated for Kit to climb. When Kit was a few rungs up, Ty started climbing himself. Pulling himself onto the platform at the top, Ty removed the torch from his mouth and put a finger to his lips. Kit took the hint. “Where are we?” he whispered, shuffling nervously closer to Ty.  “We’re in one of the box balconies. And down there,” Ty said, twitching aside the flag that hung over the balcony’s exposed side, keeping the boys hidden. Kit peeked through the makeshift curtain and saw the huge room below, a large circle of chairs dominating the space. A huge set of double doors creaked open and Ty readjusted the flag carefully. “Down there is the Cohort meeting,” Ty finished in a whisper, switching the torch off and casting the two of them into darkness, the space lit only by the half-light of the room below which was slowly filling with Cohort members. As Kit’s eyes adjusted, he could make out the vague shape of Ty beside him on the small balcony. Ty held his arm out and pointed to the rune he’d just drawn on his forearm by the minimal light of the main room below. He looked visibly uncomfortable and Kit understood why when Ty mouthed something: heightened hearing. Kit put his arm out and let Ty mark him with his second rune. It was strange, Kit thought, that all the runes he had were applied by Ty. No wonder Ty was uncomfortable; he was already way more sensitive to noise than Kit without runes. The burn of the stele as it touched his skin made Kit hiss in a breath and dig his nails into the meat of his palms. When the pain eased a little, the two of them focused their attention to the conversations of the meeting beginning below.

“My father being in charge is the best thing that’s happened to the shadow world for centuries,” Zara declared and a group mutter of assent rumbled through the echo chamber of a meeting. “Since Father has bigger issues to handle, I’ll be leading the meeting. Did you see he took the banner of that Downworld-lover, Alec Lightwood and put a photo of me up instead?” “It’s for the best. It’s not good for the shadowhunter children to see someone like that celebrated as a hero,” Samantha Larkspear said. Her twin, Dane, barked a laugh. “We could make a whole list of problems with that...I don’t even want to call him a shadowhunter.” “Well, he isn’t one. He’s with that Downworld whore, Bane, and one of his kids is a half-demon too,” Samantha said. “Gotta feel bad for the other kid though, the shadowhunter. He needs a real, shadowhunter family, with a mom and a dad. He needs saving from them.” Ty was boiling with rage. Magnus and Alec, and their sons, had come to look after them in London when Emma and Julian were in Cornwall, and they were the kind of family Ty had always kind of wanted. They were loving and affectionate and, regardless of the Cohort’s disagreement on Magnus and Alec’s child-rearing ability, Rafael and Max had two, doting and devoted parents, which is more than Ty had had in years. And the idea Alec didn’t deserve to be deemed a modern day Nephilim hero was so absurd Ty could hardly believe these people thought what they did. “We don’t have time to dwell on that mess of a family,” Zara said, though her voice seemed to communicate the fact she’d like to. “They’ve run off back to New York anyway. What I’m more concerned about is the fact that the Blackthorns have their tainted slut sister back.” She spat the words and they felt jarring and sharp, like venom flying from her lips. Ty wondered how many minds had already changed from that toxin, how many people had been poisoned.  “I can’t believe Jia Penhallow is Consul. How can she possibly be in government and let her daughter marry that?” Jessica Beausejours spat, the French lilt identifying her to Ty even though he couldn’t see her. He could feel himself shaking with rage, felt Kit’s eyes on him. Helen - his beautiful, caring, empathetic, understanding sister - was not a ‘that’. He forced his breath to even out, even as Jessica went on. “The funeral was...something.” “Yeah, something great,” Dane added. These four or so voices seemed to be dominating the space, though Ty knew there were at least another dozen people there. “I’ll give the Blackthorns this: they put on a show.” “I still can’t believe that Ty kid climbed onto the pyre,” Samantha grinned. “I can’t believe he didn’t stay there,” a new voice replied. Ty’s head jerked up in recognition. “If the freak burnt, it’s not like we’d be losing a shadowhunter.” Paige Ashdown, only 15, was part of the Cohort. And she knew too much. Ty knew there was a reason Julian had kept them separate from the rest of the shadow world, knew he was different. He wasn’t stupid; he knew his siblings weren’t the same as him. But Paige knew him. Paige could tell everyone what she knew, could ruin everything.  Kit looked across at Ty, who’d frozen. He was no longer shaking, just blanched and wide-eyed. Without a word, Kit shuffled closer to Ty and put a hand over Ty’s where it rested, braced on the ground, clammy and shaking. “Ty...” he began in a whisper. “Shh, I’m trying to listen,” Ty replied under his breath. He was moonlight pale but his jaw was set determinedly. If he was hurt - and Kit knew he was - he didn’t say anything, just focussed harder on the task at hand as the Cohort’s laughter died down and Zara spoke up. “We need to push for the Registry to pass. With my father being Inquisitor, we have the voice and clout in the Council we always should have. Families like the Blackthorns and now the Lightwoods prove that registering downworlders is necessary for maintaining pure, shadowhunter bloodlines. Honourable lines are being corrupted by tainted blood. As true, full-blood Nephilim, we can’t stand for it. It’s just simple facts; shadowhunters are superior warriors, so the purer the Nephilim blood, the better the warrior. It’s why I’m going to be the next Jace Herondale. I have pure blood. Father and I-” “Take a shot every time she says ‘father’,” Kit muttered and heard Ty huff a quiet laugh beside him that filled Kit with a strange sense of pride. When the two of them tuned back in, Zara was still talking. Shocker, Kit thought, rolling his eyes.  “Why should we dumb ourselves down to fight alongside-” “Say, ‘mudbloods’,” Kit said, under his breath. “Please say ‘mudbloods’.” “-shadowhunters who don’t have the same Angel-given talent because somewhere in their line, one of their family screwed around with downworlders and brought shame on the whole shadow world? It’s ridiculous!” The others muttered their agreement and Zara turned to Dane Larkspear. “Dane, what have you found out about the so-called honourable shadowhunter families?” “Well, we know the Lightwoods are corrupt now, but did you know that not only was Isabelle’s fiancé a vampire before he was a shadowhunter, but their ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, died of demon pox.” “No wonder the Lightwoods are so messed up,” Zara said. “It’s in their genes to be downworlders’ bitches.” “The Herondale line too-” Dane continued before Jessica interrupted.  “That’s not news, Dane. We all know that Tessa Gray bitch ruined their line. How Jace is still so amazing, I don’t know.” “I would totally kill that Clary for a chance with Jace Herondale,” Samantha giggled. Ty wondered how serious that death threat was. It was sinister paired with the playful laugh of teenage girls with crushes.  “You wouldn’t struggle. She’s like 5-foot-nothing and basically a Mundie,” Zara commented. “She really doesn’t deserve Jace.” “Anyway,” Dane said, clearly impatient with the girls’ gossipy chatter about Jace. “I’m not talking about that. That Kit kid is hanging around with the Blackthorns, he’s the lost Herondale from that traitor Tobias’s line.” He seemed satisfied with the wave of noise that went through the room at this. The mention of his name had made Kit’s palm sweaty where it rested on Ty’s hand. “Not only that, he’s descended from the First Heir, Auraline.” He paused for effect before he said the words that made Kit’s hand spasm. “A faerie.” However, this revelation was nothing compared to what Dane followed up with, voice alive with glee. “The Lost Herondale line have a nasty little habit of ending up dead in suspicious circumstances. It turns out, a little group called the Riders of Mannan tend to be behind it and they’ve already tracked Kit down and almost got him but Bane interfered. But, what that means is that the Unseelie King’s bloodhounds, the most deadly assassins in the shadow world, have their sights on one untrained fifteen year old with blood weakened by Faerie interference.” Dane almost growled the last words. “Kit Herondale doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Shit!” Ty looked across, about to shush Kit, but he stopped. Kit was rigid with fear, shaking like a leaf. From down below, a voice rung out. “Did you hear something?” “Kit, we need to go,” Ty said firmly, and flung his backpack onto his shoulders, turning the flashlight on and holding it between his teeth as he began to climb down the ladder. Kit didn’t move. “Kit,” Ty said awkwardly around the torch. Kit looked down and his fight or flight kicked in. He scrabbled to follow Ty and the two took off as a voice in the meeting hall confirmed knowledge of their eavesdropping. “I think we have a spy.” The two of them burst through the huge double doors of the Gard and out onto the crest of the hill, overlooking Idris in all its spacious greenery. Ty was mentally calculating. Kit was already breathing hard and Ty wasn’t sure the boy’s shaking limbs would hold out long enough for them to make it home before the Cohort reached them - they had horses after all. Diana’s weapons store was closer, but it wasn’t worth risking her not being in. Plus, seeking refuge there would mean having to explain what they’d been doing. Absolutely not. He could hear footsteps nearby. They were running out of time. If Livvy was here, she’d know what to do. Livvy. “Come on,” Ty said, and grabbed Kit’s hand, pulling him around the side of the Gard and into the private graveyard around the back.  Most shadowhunters went to the Bone City when they died. That’s where Livvy was, Ty knew, part of the monument of shadowhunters who’d died serving the Angel. But some families buried their loved ones in the cemetery behind the Gard. Kit walked dazedly over to a grave marked ‘Celine Herondale’. He faltered, a hand atop the tombstone. It felt cold and almost wet to the touch, like it had held centuries of rainwater and family’s tears in the stone. “I know she wasn’t from my line, but it feels weird seeing my last name on a gravestone,” he admitted. His voice sounded shaky and uncertain, like he wasn’t sure of the words before they were hanging in the tense air. The low temperature seemed to freeze what he said in place between them. “So, what now? That’s just it? Fifteen years of pleasant ignorance and now I have a target on my back.” He gave a laugh that sounded harsh and insincere. “This shadowhunter stuff sucks, y’know?” “You’re safe in Alicante,” Ty pointed out, lingering back a little. “The Unseelie can’t walk on Idris ground.” “So I just hide here forever?” Kit questioned, exasperated. “I just...hang out here with the Cohort until I die of old age or stress, whichever comes sooner?” “I’d hazard a guess at stress,” Ty commented. “God, I feel like I could cry,” Kit said, rubbing a hand across his face with a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Then you should cry. I won’t let them hurt you.” Ty sat down on the bench behind them. “I let them kill Livvy. I won’t let them kill you.” “You didn’t let them kill her,” Kit said, sitting down beside Ty. The stone bench held the same cold, almost damp feeling. “It wasn’t something you could’ve stopped from happening. One moment everything was okay and then...” “Then it wasn’t,” Ty finished. “Then it wasn’t,” Kit agreed. Ty looked out at the graves and sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “Is it bad I kind of wish Livvy had a grave?” “I don’t think that’s bad. Why do you wish that?” “I wish I could come and sit with her,” Ty said. “I could come and tell her about what I’m doing, about missions, about you and the others.” Kit glanced across and felt horror grip his chest when he saw Ty’s eyes were glassy. There was nothing he could say that would make this better. “I miss her,” he said softly, voice splintering like wood. It was the first time Kit had seen him close to tears since Livvy had died. It felt so much worse than the recklessness, but Kit knew it was definitely healthier than bottling everything up. Uncertainly, Kit edged closer until their elbows touched. “I know,” Kit said. He was casting furtive glances across at Ty and rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans before he put an arm around Ty’s shoulder. He felt Ty tense briefly, felt his own toes curl, then Ty relaxed and Kit felt the anxious knot in his stomach loosen a little.  “I know you do,” Ty said simply, looking out over the crest of the hill, above the headstones and turned dirt and yellowing grass. “That’s why I told you. I knew you wouldn’t think it sounded weird. Your dad died too.” “He was all I had.” “But now you have us.” Kit smiled down at his feet despite himself, “Yeah.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t care what the Cohort thinks of you, there’s a life out there for you, Ty. Maybe it’s a different one than it would have been if Livvy was here, but there is a life for you. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but your life can go on. She’d want your life to go on, Ty.” “Will you come too?” Ty asked. “Wherever ‘out there’ is?” Kit nodded and squeezed Ty’s shoulder. “Of course I will.” He knew those four words were a promise bigger than he could fully comprehend, a solemn vow. He knew that and meant it anyway. Perhaps his life wasn’t as secure as it had been a year ago, a fortnight ago, an hour ago. But it was still a life, and without it he wouldn’t have felt Ty’s head loll against his shoulder, wouldn’t have heard Ty’s breathing slow as his cheek brushed the material of Kit’s jacket. It was still a life worth living, for as long as he could get away with living it. 

And that’s it! I hope everyone enjoys QoAaD. Once it’s released, I won’t be using tumblr too much but I’ll try and queue lots of posts (if I can remember how to queue after all this time!). I’ll still be online for a few more days, but I hope you enjoyed this fic. TDA means the world to me, and I’m so grateful to have journeyed through it with all of you. Here’s to TEC, TWP, and TLH. x