#i just finished the seat of sacrifice earlier today and well i certainly feel like jumping into a lake

[parallelkozak]

the shadowbringers patch notes are kicking my fucking ass!!!

[gone4neow]

The New King ♔ dks

Chapter Six

- kyungsoo x reader, royalty AU, prince!kyungsoo

- warnings : swearing, mature content, arranged marriage, good looking men

- word count : 2,705

chapter five or chapter seven or masterlist

♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔

The princess had went straight to her chambers after her talk with Kyungsoo. She had gotten dressed as if she were going to bed before she had poked her head outside her door and handed her letter to her father to the guards. ‘Deliver this to one of the handmaidens to send off.’ She had shut the door before they could argue that it wasn’t their job to do that. She leaned her ear against the thick wood and tried to listen to their conversation through the door after that. After a few minutes of arguing with one another, the guards agreed to go together to find one of the handmaidens. She smiled in triumph at the sound of their fading footsteps. Anxious to see the prince, she grabbed the box they had discovered yesterday and raced out of the room.

The library was empty just like it had been the first time she had come alone. The princess wasn’t sure what time Kyungsoo would show up, nor was she sure if he would come with good news. Still, she read a book to try and tame her mind as she waited for his arrival. It was an hour and a half later when he bursted through the doors of the library. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her and she smiled assuringly. He had assumed she wouldn’t come. His relief was visible as his shoulders slackened and his jaw loosened.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said quietly as he made his way to where she sat. It was the same chair she had fallen asleep on nights ago. She shut her book, shaking her head as she did so. Before she could stand up from her seat, the prince knelt down in front of her. His hands were placed on the armrests of the chair and his eyes were locked with hers.

“I need to apologize for avoiding you today. I was scared,” he apologized in a voice so soft that the princess almost missed his words. She sat up straighter, with a confused frown on her face.

“Why would you be scared?” She questioned.

“When you walked in with Sehun... the two of you were laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I suppose it was just jealousy but how could I not be jealous when fate has already promised him a marriage to you?” He spoke quicker than she had ever heard him speak before. She understood his fear now. She reach out, hesitantly, and rested the palm of her hand against his soft face. He leaned into her touch and let his eyes close for a moment.

“I thought you regretted yesterday when you wouldn’t look at me,” she confessed in shame. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment at not recognizing his true frustrations right away.

“No, never,” he told her with a small smile. She laughed quietly and he leaned up so that their lips could meet. She melted into him immediately, letting her hands run down the smooth skin of his neck until she was gripping at his shirt-cladded chest. With a few seconds, she was running her tongue across his plump, bottom lip. Prince Kyungsoo tasted like fresh fruit mixed with the sweet taste of chocolate. She could only guess what snack he had prepared earlier. Whatever it was, she couldn’t get enough. The prince was the first to pull away. He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed in small pants. She could feel every breath rake across her lips. It was intoxicating and she had to stop herself from pulling him back against her lips again so soon.

“What is it you want me to do?” She asked lowly as her eyes searched his. He was silent for a moment and then he muttered one word that she wished he hadn’t. ‘Run.’ She released a shaky breath at his request, knowing it was the one thing she couldn’t give him.

“My kingdom is depending on me. Without me, they may all starve,” she reminded him. Her voice trembled as she spoke, as she knew her words would only disappoint him.

“You’re willing to sacrifice your entire life for your kingdom?” He asked in astonishment. She nodded against his head in response. It was the complete truth. Even if Prince Sehun had turned out to be the worst person to ever exist, she would have still went through with the marriage so that the northern kingdom would help with food supplies.

“You’re going to be an incredible queen,” he mumbled, his voice distant but his words genuine.

“Would you sacrifice your happiness for your kingdom?” The princess couldn’t help but ask.

“If they needed me, yes, but my kingdom is thriving already and they do not need me. They have my brother, after all,” he answered, pulling away from the princess so that he could look down at his hands. She hummed as she considered his words. Even though she knew that Kyungsoo was almost invisible compared to his brother, she found herself wishing she had a brother she could depend on to keep her kingdom alive.

“You brought the box,” he commented in surprise when he seen the black container sitting in the floor next to the chair. He reach out and grabbed it quickly, letting his fingers trace over it like he had yesterday. He had thought about it all night long - it seemed too familiar to him and he didn’t like that. The box gave him an uneasy feeling.

“I told you we would open it together,” The princess told him.

“Here?” He looked up at here with raised eyebrows. She nodded and he looked back down at the box with a frown.

There was a large lock in the middle of it. How could he get this thing open? The princess slipped a few pins from her hair and let it completely fall down against her shoulders. She handed Kyungsoo the pins as if he would know what to do with them, but he only looked at them in confusion. She took the box from him a few seconds later and began to work on picking the lock.

“Where did you learn to pick a lock?” He asked in bewilderment. She glanced up and caught his surprised gaze. A small smile formed on her face.

“There was a man in my village back home that was sent to the dungeons for stealing food. It turns out that he was a master lock picker. I would bring him food, paper, and a pen everyday and he would unlock his cell to draw me a picture while he ate. One day, he taught me how to do it myself,” she told him as her fingers struggled to get the pins to work in their favor.

“Did he know you were the princess?” The prince couldn’t help but ask.

“I told him, but he didn’t believe me. He said that a princess wouldn’t bring a prisoner food,” she answered quietly.

“Most wouldn’t,” the prince agreed. The lock clicked just as he finished speaking. She grinned in delight and shook her head.

“It would appear being different has its benefits then, huh?” She asked playfully, but as he caught her eye he knew she had an underlying meaning to her words. He was different and she thought it was a good thing. He smiled shyly at her before he took the box back and placed it into his lap. She watched as he opened the box, frowning when she saw a bunch of old pieces of parchment. They must’ve been a little over twenty years old from the appearance of them. Kyungsoo took them out and let his eyes skim over them slowly. There were several expressions that formed on his face over the course of a few seconds. He went from joy, to curiosity, to sadness, and then he settled on anger. He tossed the first piece of parchment to the side before he dug through the rest of the box. He felt sick to his stomach as he continued to read them. When it became too much for him to handle, he placed the box in the princess’s lap and stood up from his place on the floor.

The princess watched as he held the back of his hand against his mouth, as if he were anticipating for himself to throw up at any second. She looked down at the pieces of parchment with furrowed eyebrows. What could he possibly have read to react in such a way? Her fingers held the paper up so that she could read it’s contents and quickly they began to tremble. In her hands, she held a birth record that belonged to one very special person: Prince Kyungsoo.

“Oh my god,” she whispered frantically as she continued to skim over the contents of the box. Everything in the box revealed a lie that had been obviously been hidden from everyone in the kingdom. How could anyone manage to hide something this big that well? She couldn’t even comprehend how or why anyone would do that. She placed the box on the floor and approached Kyungsoo’s stiff figure from behind. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his back.

“My entire life is a lie,” he whispered bitterly. The princess didn’t know what to say in this situation. What was there to say?

“You know this means you’re the one who’s supposed to inherit the throne?” She asked quietly. Perhaps it wasn’t what she should have said in that moment, but it certainly was enough to fuel the fire that Kyungsoo felt in that moment. He turned around quickly, and looked down at the princess with wide, fiery eyes.

“I’m the one that should be inheriting the throne,” he repeated. She looked up at him, wondering if he had secretly been hungry for power this entire time.

“I’m the one that should be marrying you,” he added soon after. She wasn’t sure how she felt. Relieved? Angry? She was definitely hurt for the prince. How dare his parents keep this from him?

“I’m going to marry you. Mark my damn words,” he mumbled as if talking to himself.

“How?” She asked with wide eyes.

“I have a friend in the village. His name is Xiumin - he works in a printshop. I’ll make him make copies of the records and we’ll get them to spread around the village,” he explained his plan to her in one, rushed breath.

“And then?” She wondered.

“It will reach the kingdom. If the universe feels at least an ounce of sympathy for me, then this should work. I’ll turn this whole kingdom against my liar of a father,” he continued. The princess paused for a moment.

“Kyungsoo, the box must belong to your father. We need to hide it before he finds out that we found it,” she told him quickly.

They parted that night with a long, passionate kiss that had left the princess breathless. Kyungsoo took the box with him with the promise that he would hide it in a safe location. The princess trusted his word. The guards were back in their places when she arrived back at her chambers. Fortunately, she had made it right before the shift change. The tired guards were sitting against the wall with their heads laying on top of each other, snoring softly into the night air. She almost laughed, but her racing heartbeat reminded her of her vulnerable position. She tiptoed back to her room in her nightgown and pushed her way back into the room quietly. She made sure to shut the door softly behind her.

The next morning, the princess found herself walking alongside Prince Sehun towards the stables. The sun had only been awake for a few minutes and her rays were already warm against the princess’s exposed skin. Her fingers chased each other in circles as she thought about how the second trip to the village would go. Sure, most of the people had accepted her her for the most part, but she knew that there were more people like the angry woman she had encountered hiding somewhere in the shadows. She couldn’t be upset about the fact that they were so angry that they’d take it out on her. They must be terrified for both themselves and their families that a new king and queen meant big changes, changes that could be potentially worse than what rules were already in place. It made sense for them to be angry. She could remember the torn outfit the woman had been wearing and wondered what kind of kingdom the northern kingdom truly was to leave someone in such a state without trying to help.

All of her worries about the trip seemed to vanish when she saw Prince Kyungsoo in the distance. He was, of course, already at the stables preparing for the ride to the village. Her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest at the sight of the dark haired man working so hard. He shared a smile with one of the stable workers before he caught sight of the princess and his brother walking towards where he stood. He paused for a moment, basking in the sight of the woman he adored so dearly before he turned and made his way back into the barn.

“Princess! Sehun!” She heard a voice called out for her and the man next to her. She turned her head just slightly to see Baekhyun standing near a horse with his hand in the air waving wildly. A grin was on his face as he waved at them and she thought that he looked truly mad. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. Sehun glanced over at her as he waved at Baekhyun lazily. He noticed the princess seemed a lot more relaxed these days than she did when she had first arrived to the northern kingdom. What had changed? He paled at the thought that maybe she had finally fell for him. She ran towards Baekhyun, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He watched as they shared a handshake that they had wasted time coming up with yesterday at dinner. It was like watching two overgrown children interact as they giggled amongst themselves.

“You’re coming with us to the village?” The princess asked Baekhyun.

“That’s right. You won’t have to miss me all day now,” he answered her with a smug expression. He threw a his arm over her shoulders and squeezed her tightly, making her smile. Prince Kyungsoo walked over to where they stood with a horse saddle in his hands. He worked quietly as he put the saddle on Baekhyun’s horse and the princess tried to pull her eyes away from his working figure, but she couldn’t. Even when she felt the weight of Baekhyun’s arm leave her and heard him greet Prince Sehun, her eyes were glued to him. He glanced over at her when the feeling of her stare didn’t leave him. She seen the corners of his lips rise and fall so quickly that it was like it hadn’t happened at all.

“Princess, you don’t mind if we go to the bakery again do you?” Prince Sehun asked her, finally drawing her attention away from Kyungsoo. She glanced up at the man and shook her head.

“No. I have a bad craving for chocolate this morning,” she replied. This time, Kyungsoo couldn’t keep a smile from forming on his face.

The ride to the village consisted of mostly laughter. Baekhyun and the princess seemed to be a gold mine for comedy when mixed together. Instead of just laughing at his jokes, she went along with them. They would go back and forth until they couldn’t speak anymore from the laughter flowing from their chests. Everyone was getting along for the first time. Kyungsoo even spoke more than he usually did, much to everyone’s surprise. The princess’s only complaint was that she wasn’t on the back of Striker. She sat behind Sehun, who seemed to be in a better mood this morning than he had all week.

[patchworkofstars]

Salted Caramel

Chapter 2: The Fires of Pride and Envy

AO3   Chapter 1

Relationships: Royality, Analogical

Chapter synopsis: Roman discovers something in common with Patton, but his housemate’s emo boyfriend sends his stress levels rocketing.

Word count: 2,364

Warnings: Mentions of food and difficulty eating

Notes: Heartfelt thanks to everyone who left comments on the first chapter 💖 Roman’s reaction here to positive feedback is very much based on my own 💙

Thanks also to @metaphoricalpluto2  @bi-one and @monstercupcake61176  for acting as my random word generator! back on 12th April?? yet I only finished writing this chapter today???

Having briefly returned to give him a glimmer of hope, Roman’s creativity deserted him for the rest of the weekend. By Monday, his desire to escape his desk and writer’s block was so strong it overcame even his fear of looking like a nerd, and for the first time ever he arrived early to the first lecture of the week.

Big mistake, he realised, as he stepped into the lecture theatre only to find Patton already there. He was sitting all alone, reading a book of some sort, and Roman couldn’t help but notice he was wearing the grey cardigan he normally tied around his shoulders. Covering his arms to hide the bruises from the other night, perhaps?

Roman hesitated on the threshold, considering waiting outside until his friends arrived, but before he could make a decision, Patton looked up and saw him. The man’s whole face seemed to light up, and Roman’s heart sank. He couldn’t afford to be seen talking to Patton. Who knew what damage it would do to his reputation if people began to think they might be friends.

Act confident, Roman, he told himself, geeks can smell fear. That’s how they manage to survive.

His limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, but he tried to feign nonchalance as he walked in and took the seat behind Patton, close enough to talk without the danger of them looking too friendly when the other students inevitably arrived.

Patton closed his book, and Roman’s breath caught when he saw the cover. Dragon Witch Chronicles volume 4, The Fires of Pride. He swallowed, nervousness quickening his pulse and making him slightly light headed.

Anything but that series, he thought. It looks well-read, too…

“Are you enjoying your book?” he asked, willing the words to sound casual. “You seemed very engrossed, there.”

Patton laid a hand on the cover and smiled. “It’s my all-time favourite series, he said, affection clear in his voice. “Volume six is coming out next month, so I’m re-reading them all in preparation.”

Roman looked away quickly, avoiding the other man’s eyes. Oh gods, he’s a fan, that means he might have read… He cut off the thought, distracting himself by pulling up his bag to take out his notebook and pen.

But having been given an opening, Patton seized it. “Have you read any of the series?" he asked brightly.

“Uh, yes, as it happens”, Roman admitted, trying to quash his rising panic.

Patton’s eyes shone. “Who’s your favourite character?” he asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Mine’s Prince Namor.” A faint pink blush spread over his cheeks as he looked up through his eyelashes at Roman. “He actually reminds me a lot of you. You’re my hero, you know.”

Roman felt his own face begin to heat up, and swallowed again. “Ah, yes, well, Namor is a fantastic character”, he agreed, a little too loudly. “He’s certainly my favourite of the main cast, but I must confess I’m hoping to see more of Tonapt, the Prince of the Cat People from book five.”

Patton’s smile grew wider. “Yes!” he breathed, clasping his hands together. “I love the Cat People! Their culture is so cool, and-”

He broke off as the sound of chatter from outside heralded the arrival of a group of their coursemates. Roman immediately sat back in his chair, putting as much distance as possible between him and Patton.

Still, he couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of his eye as the smile washed away from Patton’s face like a chalk image in the rain. He scooped the book up and tucked it carefully away in his bag, taking out paper and a pen instead and fixing his eyes on the desk before him.

Roman felt a twist of guilt in his gut and almost, almost leaned forward again to apologise, but then Donny’s voice called “What the hell, Zito? We’ve been looking all over for you!” and suddenly his friends were at his side, dropping their bags and sliding into the seats to his left.

Mike slung an arm loosely around his shoulders, grinning. “How come you’re here so early, Rosie?” he teased. “You turning into a swat like loser-boy there?” He nodded towards Patton, and Roman twisted his mouth into an awkward grin.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, he retorted. “I just mixed up the time and didn’t want to hang around in the corridor like a numpty.”

Somewhere at the back of his mind, the curtain between him and Patton fell once more.

*****

Roman ran up the steps to his flat two at a time, and burst through the doorway into the shared living room with a cry of “Logan, I’m hooome~!”

Then he stopped abruptly, his expression contorting from amicable to sullen in an instant.

Logan nodded in greeting from where he sat on their worn but comfortable sofa. He was all straight lines and sharp angles, his measured movements and careful speech a marked contrast to Roman's loud flamboyance. In his customary black polo shirt and blue striped necktie, he looked more like an accountant than an undergrad, but his short sleeves revealed surprisingly muscular arms, and his glasses couldn't hide the high cheekbones that always made Roman want to-

Well, it didn’t matter what Roman wanted, because beside his handsome housemate sat the reason for his current hostility: Logan’s boyfriend, Virgil Price.

In stark contrast to his companion, he wore ripped jeans and a hoodie, with dark patches of eyeshadow painted beneath each eye in classic emo style. While Logan sat straight-backed on the sofa's seat, Virgil sat on the arm, with his feet, clad in striped purple socks, resting on the free cushion. His knees were drawn up, forearms braced against his thighs, and his hands moved rapidly through a series of gestures as they hovered over his knees.

Roman scowled at the interloper, hot anger and frustration surging upwards through his veins. “What’s he doing here?” he demanded, barely managing to keep the growl from his voice.

“Virgil has had a bad day and is currently non-verbal”, Logan informed him, utterly unfazed by his tone. “I would appreciate it if you’d refrain from causing him further stress, for once. We made vegetable soup earlier, and there’s still some keeping warm if you’d like it.”

Virgil glowered and gestured rapidly at his boyfriend.

“I’m aware of that”, Logan told him aloud, “But it would be churlish not to allow him a share when we made so much. Besides which, it’s important to maintain a courteous attitude when cohabiting with someone.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, and Roman didn’t need to know sign language to understand the hand gesture the emo directed his way. Nevertheless, he moved to the kitchen area and served himself some of the soup waiting there. Logan’s cooking was always satisfying and nutritious, and anything beat preparing food for himself with a view of those two being affectionate in the background.

*****

He took the soup and some crackers to eat in his room, hiding himself away not only from Virgil’s glares but also from the pain of seeing his easy companionship with Logan, the way they were so relaxed and open with each other. It always left a hollow ache in Roman’s chest, making him wistfully wonder, despite himself, how it must feel to have someone they could each be so wholly themselves with.

He shook himself from his reverie and put on a soothing Disney medley. There was no point in dwelling on the impossible. Logan and Virgil could be honest with each other because they were both unpopular and had nothing to lose, and Roman would willingly sacrifice that if it meant he could maintain his image.

He steadied his breathing, letting his eyes drift around the room. Each wall was a patchwork of film posters, from Disney to DreamWorks to Studio Ghibli. His complete set of Dragon Witch Chronicles novels were lovingly displayed in pride of place on his bookshelf, while his textbooks sat in a haphazard pile on the floor beneath.

Letting the music wash over him, he pushed away his lingering melancholy and focused instead on thoughts of his writing as he dragged himself through the chore of eating. There was no pleasure in it, these days, having to force himself to chew and then to swallow every mouthful down past the ever-present knot of tension in his throat. Even the soup was like molten tar in his oesophagus, and solid food went down like lumps of lead. Each flavour was a faint tingling on his tongue that never registered fully in his brain. He may as well have been eating cardboard for all the pleasure it gave him.

With what passed for his meal finished, he pulled his laptop over and opened up a text file. He'd been halfway through writing a complex, multi-chapter piece of fanfiction when his writer’s block had surfaced, and the thought of yet another week going by with no new content posted increased the tension in his head to an almost visible metallic grey cloud. He gazed despairingly at the document on the screen before him. It was, to put it mildly, a raging dumpster fire of a story draft.

Well, fine, he would try writing something else instead. He closed the file and double-clicked the appropriate icon on his desktop, mentally thanking Logan for the prompt-generation software he’d created. Even though he’d been almost unbearably smug about it when he’d installed it for Roman.

Opening the Block Unblocker – Logan wasn’t great at names – he clicked the button to randomly generate three nouns and a fanfiction type, the purpose being to write a story in the given genre containing all the words. Immediately, the software gave him a list.

“Cactus, wood, hat – fluff.” What the heck was he supposed to do with that?  He shook his head and clicked the button again.

“France, cucumber, potato - angst.” Something about crying over a meal in a French café, perhaps? But I don’t know anything about France. Forget it, one more try.

“Eggs, jellyfish, toaster - smut.” What the-? No no, not writing that, no way. Not even going to think about that.

Ugh, he couldn’t do it. Yet again, his mind was enveloped in fog, devoid of inspiration. With a resigned sigh, he closed the file and opened his web browser. He might as well see what other people had been writing. Perhaps some light reading would help improve his mood.

He scanned down the list of titles and synopses, a bitter feeling of nausea growing in his stomach. Damn, they all sounded so good. All those writers actually writing, posting, achieving, while he did nothing. He wanted to claw out his heart and tear it to shreds to rid himself of the burning envy that threatened to consume him.

They were such good writers, and he enjoyed their work so much. But every story they gave to the world was a further reminder of his own failure to do the same. He loved them, but he hated the way they made him feel.

I have to do this, I can’t let them defeat me. I can’t let this defeat me.

*****

It was hopeless. His head hurt so much he could barely think, a dull but persistent ache accented every so often by a bolt of agony on the right side of his forehead. The unyielding stiffness of his neck muscles pulling his shoulders towards his chin told him this was a tension headache that painkillers would do nothing to ease. From experience, he knew the only cure would be relaxation, but how could he relax with this pounding in his skull and this bruised feeling in all of his muscles?

Desperation was eating away at his bones, dark dread creeping through his veins. What if he never wrote anything worthwhile ever again? What if he had nothing to post, nothing to offer, and all of his followers left in disgust, realising he wasn’t worthy of their attention after all? That anything he’d written had been a fluke, an accident of luck, and he didn’t deserve their praise?

He almost sobbed, and hit the back of his neck with a fist, trying to force some of the tension from the muscles. But all it did was increase the ache there.

He jumped when his phone pinged, and scrambled to check the notification. An email. An email with a comment about his writing.

It was from a user named CaramelCat, and Roman smiled indulgently. CaramelCat often commented on his work, and their words were always as sweet as their name. Even so, claws of doubt hooked into his heart. What if they were disappointed in the latest chapter? Or complaining about the long delay since he’d updated the story?

His hands were shaking as he opened the message, the adrenalin rushing through him in a wave of excitement and fear. He scanned through it rapidly, hungrily, desperate for it to be positive but terrified it might be negative. Once he had satisfied himself it was safe, he reread it more slowly, relishing each kind word, the positive feedback a balm for his bruised and fragile ego.

He read it over and over, joy bubbling up as giggles, his hands clasping and unclasping, moving up to touch his face every few words. His face was warm – heck, he was warm all over, happiness kickstarting his circulation, making him feel more alive than he had since… since…

Since this morning, chatting with Patton about Dragon Witch Chronicles.

No. Patton was off-limits, and that was all there was to it. They inhabited separate spheres, and Roman wasn't about to sacrifice his popularity for anyone, especially not some overly-bubbly geek.

He took a deep breath, pushed the thought aside, and began rereading the comment yet again. It made him want to sing, to dance, to write. His mind fizzed with the first sparks of a dozen different ideas, all jostling for attention.

Then there was a cry of “Falsehood, Virgil, you are highly endearing” from the next room, and the blaze of envy that rose in Roman burned every spark to ashes.

Tagging my own list plus everyone who reblogged chapter 1

@fandersfic-royality @virgil-is-thriving @wisepuma23 @sevencrashing @angst-patton @evilmuffin @starryfirefliesbloggo @shesavampirequeen @elementalshadowwitch @the-prince-and-the-emo @noodlelatte @sander-sides-and-tea @the-office-cat @ocotopushugs @katesattic @smokeyrutilequartz @karmels-stuff @mariniacipher @intothevoidsunknown @trashypansexual @hissesssss @sher-soc-the-famder @what-a-catch-joe @xxladystarlightxx @pearls-of-patton @suyun-doo @patton-in-name

[little-fandom]

We only see as far as the headlights - Chapter 2: The Deal

Magnus can't take his mind of thinking about that handsome stranger. He wonders if he'll get to see him again…

read on ao3

Magnus gets to work with a smile plastered on his face.

It might be connected with a tall, handsome, dark haired stranger he’s just dropped off at the college’s driveway. When he enters the lab, he lets himself think about Alec a bit more.

He saw him at the hospital a few times earlier. He comes there every Wednesday morning, as being a part of the Idris charity organisation. His friend Luke started the organization a few years ago, after his wife Jocelyn died of cancer. He’s been doing a great job, and Magnus decided to join the project, so he became a volunteer and comes to the hospital every Wednesday before work, to spend some time with the patients, cheer them up, help with something or just be there for them when they don’t have anyone else. Luke’s stepdaughter, Clary is also involved and Magnus became quite good friends with her and her best friend Simon, who she dragged into the volunteering too.

Magnus really enjoys it. It’s a way to help people, and show them that they’re not alone in their suffering. It’s the least he can do to make them feel a bit better.

He knows how it feels not to have anyone. And, to lose someone.

It’s not like he’s alone now. He has great friends, who became his family. The times he gets lonely are rare, but they happen. Sometimes Magnus longs for someone to just be with him, someone, who he can share his day with. His loft just feels empty most of the times, it’s quite depressing…

But it’s not like he’s looking for love. No. Not after what Camille did to him, he still needs time to recover, after finally ending things with her for good.

But also there’s just something about Alexander. Something… intriguing. Magnus can’t really find a right word to describe it. He’s shy, but not that much to actually restrain from any conversation. His rumbling is cute, and he’s just so damn handsome. He might be the most beautiful man Magnus has ever seen.

He gets to the elevator and soon it stops at the seventh floor, so he gets out, heading to the lab. Of course, Dot is already here, since there is never a time when she’s late, or even when Magnus isn’t, she’s just always early.

Of course she notices the soft smile, playing at the corner of his lips.

“Good morning,” She says as she looks up from a microscope, watching some sample. “did something happen today?” She asks with a smile.

Magnus has always been thankful for working with Dot. The atmosphere around her is just so relaxed, there’s no pressure and it’s just amazing to work with a friend. They met back in collage, both studying chemistry and somehow, fate wanted it for them to end up in Alicante Cosmetics together.

Before Magnus gets to answer her question, another voice speaks.

“Good morning, Magnus.” Raphael’s mocks in an annoyed tone. “I see you decided to show up just three minutes late today.”

“I knew you already missed me, Raphael.” Magnus turns, from where he’s seated at his stool and smiles brightly at his friend.

Raphael just replies with an eye roll, and then he’s back to checking some stuff on his tablet.

Even when Raphael comes across as a bit harsh, deep down he has a soft heart. But he does keep up his demeanour of the ruthless boss, so all of the workers know, to just do their job, and not get in his way. But Magnus and Dot can allow themselves to get a bit mocking with him, since they’ve been friends for quite some time now. While Dot and Magnus were studying chemistry, Raphael studied business, and they all met as some reconnaissance party their freshman year. Even Raphael’s scowling glare was not too much to get them acquainted. And with more time, they’ve grown closer to each other.

Mostly, Magnus is really thankful for college. These were actually the best times of his life, since he got to do what he likes and he met amazing friends in a process.

Raphael had always been talking about becoming a CEO, of a big company. Back in university they even joked about how they all should start a cosmetics company. After college, they parted ways with Raphael, since he went to Spain to spend some time with his family, but when he came back he actually started the preparations to set the firm. Both Magnus and Dot were surprised, that he decided on that kind of business, but they did not question it, just happy to be in touch with their friend again, and to get to work with him.

When they asked, why did he choose for it to be a cosmetics company, he just brushed them of and said that he could get cheap workforce, in a form of them.

Magnus is not sure if that was actually a joke. He never is sure with Raphael.

But still, working with the two of them is a total bliss.

After Raphael announces some news about the sale increases and decreases, and then he disappears back into his office. Probably with no intention of showing up today, expecting them to do their job. Which of course they will deliver.

“So,” Dot starts again, when Raphael is out of the room. “What is this smile about?”

“Nothing…” Magnus teases, feeling his grin becoming wider.

“Okay, that means I’m guessing then.” Dot resorts, her own smile getting bigger, and then she scrunches her face in thought. “Hmm, it’s not your ‘I just got laid’ smile, it’s too soft-“

“I do not have that kind of a smile!” Magnus huffs offended, to which Dot only raises her eyebrows at him. Magnus sighs, but admits. “Okay, I do have it, but not today.”

“I know.” Dot agrees and get back to thinking. “You’ve met someone…” Magnus nods slightly confirming her words. “Some attractive stranger…”

“Okay, are you a psychic?” Magnus points an accusing finger at her, to which he only shrugs.

“Some say that I’m a witch.”

They both laugh briefly, but then Dot speaks again.

“Okay, so details, now.”

So he tells her about Alec, how he saw him in a hospital a week earlier, but didn’t really get a chance to talk to him, and about their drive to the university. He leaves some parts out, like how incredibly beautiful his smile is, or how astonishing is the sound of his laugh, or how they palms fitted so well together when they greeted…

But he made Alec certainly attractive during his speech.  

Dot hums appreciatively as he goes on and when, he’s finally finished, his friend smiles at him she asks.

“So, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now'?” Magnus answers with a question, a bit confused.

“Well, you clearly like him. And I’m sure you’d like to see him again…”

“Even if, it’s unlikely.” Magnus resorts a bit sadly. “There’s a slight possibility, that he’ll be at the hospital the same time as me.”

Of course he’d like to see Alec again. No doubt about it. He curses himself for not asking for his phone number, but they’ve known each other for like twenty minutes tops, and he didn’t want to overstep, or scare him off. But somewhere in his mind, or in his heart, he dreams of meeting Alec again.

“I think there’s a big possibility.” Dot smirks lightly, and Magnus eyes her curiously again. “Eh, Magnus!” She grunts and throws he hands in the air.

“What?” He asks, still confused.

“You can’t be more clueless, can you?” Magnus wants to argue with her statement, but he knows that he tends to not notice the obvious, so he lets it go. “Okay, let me explain.” She begins again, as he gives no intention to answer. “You saw him in the hospital last week, right?” He nods. “And you saw him again today, at probably similar hour.” He more states than asks, but Magnus nods anyway. “So, there’s a great possibility that-“

“Oh my God, you’re right!” Magnus exclaims a bit too loud, causing Dot to jump in surprise, as he finally realises what her point is. “He might be seeing Ragnor.”

Dot nods again, leaning into her chair.

“It’s possible.” She resorts. “Or he just visits someone pretty often. But there’s only one way to find out.”

“Ask the man himself.” Magnus asserts. “But Ragnor can’t really talk about that stuff, can he? I mean, there needs to be some rules about confidentiality.”

“True.” Dot agrees. “But I’m sure he’d make an exception for his good old friend.”

The smirk comes back to her face, and Magnus can’t help his own, slowly making its way to his face.

 After their conversation they get back to work. They’ve been occupied with making some new shades of eye shadows for Alicante’s new palate, and they’re still in process of developing a functional skin care.

So, the day passes by fast, and then Magnus finds himself leaving the company’s building. He quickly heads to his car. It’s a chilly day, and Magnus is not wearing a right coat for that, but sacrifices needed to be made in the name of fashion.

He wastes no time, hurriedly getting into the car, starting it, and turning the heat on. As he backs off from the parking lot, he throws a glance at the passenger seat, reminded of how Alec occupied that place, just a few hours ago. He can’t help another smile, as it paints his face. He’ll talk to Ragnor, but there’s no rush. It’s not like he’s desperate.

Not yet, at least.

Entering his loft he sheds of his coat and makes his way to the drink cart, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He slumps down on the couch, enjoying the late afternoon.

Every day is the say. In the morning, he gets to work, besides Wednesdays, when he head to the hospital first, it’s the only day he starts work at 9am, so he can allow himself an hour there. He knows he wouldn’t be able to do the volunteering after work, since mostly he’s just too tired to be helpful and cheerful around people.

So he gets to work, leaves at 4, or 5pm, sometimes if there’s a lot to do he stays a bit later. Then he comes back home, has a drink, cooks or orders some food and often falls asleep on the couch during his marathon of Project Runway.

It’s incredibly boring, and he needs it to change. But at the same point, routine is good. Something to hold on to, just everyday life. Something steady. Something he was lacking so much during his years back in college…

He’s life has been hectic. All into parties, always the one present everywhere. One nights stands were a common use. He couldn’t really keep a relationship, not after Camille, but he can’t say that their relationship had actually been stable.

It’s been good, ending things with her. Refreshing, even. He was excited to start a new chapter in his life. Without being manipulated and used. No matter how boring it is now, he would never want to get back to how it was before he got settled.

The only thing that sometimes breaks his routine, are his friends. They go out quite often. Just to catch up on each other’s lives, or they go clubbing. But in a week, mostly they’re all busy. And Magnus gets it, they all do work quite hard. But sometimes, it just get lonely.

He should get a cat, or something.

As he feels his eyelid begin to fall, he decides to get to the bedroom and catch some good night’s sleep.

There’s another not so exciting day waiting for him tomorrow.

 And just as his every single day, the rest of the week was dull as well. He did meet with Catarina on Friday. They got drinks, and then Raphael and Dot had joined them. He bumped into Luke on his way to go shopping on Saturday and they ended up getting coffee, Luke updated him on some new stuff in Idris, while Magnus had a few stories from the lab to share. It was all nice, he loves to listen to Luke sharing the experiences form his organization with him. It always warms his heart.

Wednesday comes before he even knows it, and then he’s back at the hospital again. The hour that he spends there always passes by too fast on chatting and some helping. He sees various people here, older, younger. Some are just kids, and it hurts Magnus to see them suffering so much. So if he’s able to make them feel a bit better, after he lets them win in their favourite video game, Magnus will gladly accept the failure.

As he makes his way out, as always, he stops at the nurses’ duty office, to catch up with Catarina. She’s been working there for what seems like forever and Magnus even remembers her from when she was doing her internship here, during college. The only thing was, that Magnus wasn’t a volunteer back then, only a visitor…

He shakes of the thoughts that he definitely doesn’t want to recall now, and focuses as Cat rumbles about some patient. But still, he can’t give her his full attention, since he finds himself scanning the hallway, looking for a tall, dark haired man. And of course Catarina notices.

“What is up with you?” She asks, eyeing him curiously.

“What do you mean?” Magnus replies without thinking, not even turning, eyes still back on the hallway.

Catarina spats him on the arm, harder than he deserves, to which he actually switches his gaze back at her.

“Hey!” He pants offended. “What was that for?”

“You’re completely somewhere else today.” She states. “Ragnor has a session now, so if you want to wait just sit and wait.” She sighs.

“Thank you, my dear. But I’m not actually looking for Ragnor.” He answers simply and focuses on every person passing through the hallway. 

“Who then?” Cat asks, and Magnus just throws her an unimpressed glare. They talked about Alec on Friday, and Catarina is not the one to forget things. She’s just busy, and has a lot on her mind, but she never forgets and always listens very carefully. So he waits, and soon a look of realisation covers her face. “Oh, that handsome stranger of yours!” She exclaims. “Alec, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, and keep quiet.” Magnus scowls her. “He can be here.”

“So?” Catarnia prompts.

“So…” Magnus thinks a little and shrugs. “I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate strangers calling out his name. He’s shy.”

“Magnus, you’ve known him for twenty minutes. I’m sorry, but you can’t be sure about what he is.” Catarina states with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m planning to change that.” Magnus resorts and Cat raises her brows at him. “What?”

“Nothing, I just thought it’s still too soon for you, after Camille… You’ve always claimed that it is. For like more than a year now, almost two…”

“A year?” Magnus questions. It can’t be a year. Or can it?

Catarina just nods, slightly pouting her lips.

“But I think it would be good for you-“

“I’m not saying I’m going to date him.” Magnus interrupts. “Like you said, I don’t know him-“

“Yeah, so you’ll get to know him-“

“And we’ll see how it goes then. Let’s not jinx it.”  He knows there’s something about Alec, that something’s just there, but still, he may just appear nice on the outside and be completely different on the inside. Somehow Magnus is willing to take a chance to get to know him. If nothing else develops, then he’ll just leave it. It’s not like they’d need to avoid each other. They barely see themselves, they probably wouldn’t even met in the hospital if they didn’t try to. And maybe Magnus will just gain himself another friend, if it doesn’t work out in any other way? “If there’s nothing there, then maybe we’ll just become friends.”

Catarina snorts to that, and Magnus throws her another glare.

“I’m sorry, Magnus, but with the way you talk about him, there’s no way you’d want to be just friends with him.” She shakes her head, amused.

“And in what way do I talk about him?” Magnus mocks.

“Like you’re falling in love.”

It’s Magnus’ turn to snort.

“I’ve known him for like twenty minutes, I can’t be falling in love.” He resorts with a laugh.

“I know, Magnus.” Cat starts. “That’s how you always find new ways to surprise me.”

He tries to glare at her, annoyed, but can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. He really tends to be a hopeless romantic.

At that, Magnus spots Ragnor leaving his office, and decides it’s time for some catching up with his old friend. Of course, not only for the reason of Alec.

Just mostly.

He and Ragonr have been best friends, for as long as he can remember. When Magnus was sixteen, and moved to New York from Indonesia with his mother, he had quite a hard time adjusting. But then, in high school he met Ragnor, and they immediately became friends. Their situation was similar. Ragnor moved here a year before, from London. To be honest, they’re completely different, and that’s probably why they get on so well. Ragnor did help him through his rough times, always been a great listener and adviser he is. Deep down, Magnus always knew, that Ragnor would make a perfect psychologist, even when he’s friend wasn’t so sure of that at the beginning.

Catarina just rolls her eyes, but a smile is still present on her face, when Magnus backs off, and makes his ways towards Ragnor’s office.

“Hello, my friend.” He announces and as Ragnor turns, a smile is beginning to pain his face.

“Hello, indeed.” He greets. “How is it going?”

“All well, thank you.” Magnus admits, and fires back a question. “And you?”

“Well, besides dealing with all this,” he gestures at the stack of files in his hands. “everything is great.”

Magnus just nods in answer and Ragnor eyes his curiously.

“Do you need anything?” He asks carefully then.

“Why would I need anything?” Magnus chuckles nervously. He doesn’t really know how to bring it up to Ragnor. For sure, he can’t just speak about his patients. They’ve actually been through this a few times, when Magnus’ curiosity took the best of him. Sometimes he just can’t see to shut up. “I just wanted to talk to my best friend.”

“Are you sure? You’re unusually quiet, for someone who wanted to talk…” Ragnor states, and a smirk is tugging up at the corners of his lips.

“Okay,” Magnus gives in. Trying to hide anything from Ragnor is pointless, he sees through everything. “I do need something. Some info…”

“On what?” Ragnor questions, truly enjoying the way Magnus can’t find his way with words. It’s surprisingly hard to talk to him about Alec. Maybe because in the back of his mind Magnus knows, that if Alec has been seeing Ragnor, then his friend knows a lot about him. But it might actually help. If Alec is an ass, then Ragnor would tell him, and he wouldn’t get any of his hopes up.

“I was just wondering,” Magnus starts. “About a patient of yours-“

“No, Magnus we’re not doing that.” Ragnor states firmly and starts walking down the hallway. Magnus briefly catches Cat’s amused smile from the nurses’ office as he begins to follow his friend.

“I’m not even sure if he’s your patient actually, but if he is then-“

“If you don’t know, that why don’t you ask him yourself?” Ragnor fires back, as he stops and turns to face Magnus.

“I…” Magnus’ lips form into a straight line as he thinks. “I don’t really know him.”

“So, what is this all about?” Ragnor asks, with a confused expression.

“Look, I just wanted to know, if he’s your regular, and if he comes here every week, so then I might get a chance to see him again-“

“Oh lord,” Ragnor interrupts. “are you having a crash or something?”

Magnus’ mouth hangs open for a few seconds, before he actually gets to speak.

“What?” His voice comes out higher than usual. “No, of course not. I’m way too old to have a crush.”

Ragnor raises his brow in questions at him. God, he’s really getting sick of that expression. Why is everyone looking at him like that?

“Are you?” His friend questions in an accusing tone. “Are you really?”

Magnus just shrugs, and stand there, in the middle of the hallway, thinking of a good come back for him, but his mind is empty.

“So what if I have one?” He sighs. “Are you jealous?”

Ragnor snorts.

“Jealous? Of your unknown even by you crush? No, I don’t think so.” He shakes his head.

God, why is he even doing that? He should never listen to Dot. Ragnor is right. Of course he’s saying these all beyond the lines, but Magnus knows the moral: if you want to know him, then get to know him. But to be honest, he’s scared. Scared of getting hurt again. But he can’t keep thinking, that everyone will turn out to be Camille. If he continues to do so, he won’t ever find anyone.

“Magnus, you know I can’t do this.” Ragnor resorts in his reassuring tone. “Even if I wanted too. It would be breaking the confidentiality rules. And I quite like this job.” He adds with a smile. “But if that man of yours was here at least once, that there is a possibility he’ll show up. And you’re here every Wednesday, so I’d say the odds are good.”

Magnus lets out a long exhale but nods. Ragnor mirrors the gesture and pats him on the shoulder.

“I have to go now.” His friend states then. “I have another patient coming up. I’ll see you soon, Magnus.”

He quickly waves as a goodbye, Magnus does too, and then he’s left in the middle of the hallway, letting out another sigh. He’s just about to make his way back to Catarina, but something catches his eye.

Or more, someone.

He only sees a flash of black hair, but the man is tall, and well-built, as he leaves a hospital room where Magnus knows kids are settled. But he doesn’t think about it now, as he quickly catches up to that man.

“Alec!” He calls out, and when the man turns, Magnus can’t help but smile.

He looks incredibly beautiful, same as the last time. Gorgeous hazel eyes staring right back at Magnus, with a  bit of surprise in them, but that good kind. And when he smiles, Magnus feels like he could just melt. His outfit today is simple, but somehow so well fitting. Black jeans, paired with a dark green shirt and the same leather jacket as the last time. It’s a bit too cold for a leather jacket now, but Alec doesn’t look like he is making a fashion sacrifice. The jacket suits him, and maybe he just runs a little hot. Magnus would like to find out himself.

God, Magnus focus. He scowls himself in his mind, as he realises that they’ve been just standing there and staring at each other for quite some time, but he notices, that Alec’s gaze lingers on him too, as if taking him in.

Alec blushes slightly, as if he’s been caught.

“Hey,” he starts, but his voice comes out hoarse, so he clears his throat and speaks again, softly. “Hi.”

“Hi, how have you been?” Magnus asks, with a soft smile.

“Great.” Alec nods and sighs. “Kinda busy, but fine. What about you?”

“Same, everything is good.” Magnus states and gets another nods from Alec in answer.

There are a few seconds of silence, when Magnus desperately tries to come up with some topic, ‘cause he’s afraid Alec might just consider the conversation done, and he really doesn’t want it to end yet. Not when the thought of meeting Alec again was what has been his driving force through the last week.

“How was the exam?” He prompts then, and Alec looks truly surprised that he might remember this from their conversation last week.

“It went okay, I passed.” Alec admits and smiles again. “And how is work going?”

“Oh, just the usual.” Magnus waves his hand dismissively.

It’s so weird. He longed for Alec’s company for so long, and now that he finally has it, it’s hard to just talk. He constantly finds himself just staring at Alec, and he knows that’s inappropriate, but he just can’t help it. He’s too damn attractive. But fortunately, Alec doesn’t seem to notice.

“Are you heading to the university again?” Magnus asks then.

“Yeah, I have classes a bit later today, but I guess I still have to.” He admits to which they both chuckle briefly.

“Need a ride?” Magnus blurts out before he actually gets to think. But it’s a good idea. If they get away from the prying eyes of the hospital patients and visitors, maybe Alec will feel more relaxed.

“Thanks, Magnus but I actually have time today, so I can just take a bus-“ Alec stats, but Magnus just shakes his head, as he interrupts.

“Nonsense, Alexander.” He resorts. “It’s too cold and this jacket,” he sooths his fingers down the material “is not a great choice. But I get it, sacrifices need to be made for fashion.”

Alec laughs and Magnus can’t help but join him.

“And,” he picks back up a bit later. “if you catch a cold, because you’ll need to get to school by that hideous bus, you’ll regret not agreeing to my offer. We’re not strangers anymore, so you can’t use that excuse.”

Alec smiles a bit wider as he chuckles and rolls his eyes, but still he hesitates, so Magnus adds.

“I assure you, it’s not a trouble. It’s the same direction, don’t worry.”

Alec bits his lower lip, which is way more attractive than it should be, and then he asks.

“You sure?”

“Of course.” Magnus replies with no hesitation.

“Okay.” Alec answers finally and Magnus feels his grin widening.

“Okay.” Is his only reply as they begin to walk towards the exit.

 As they get seated in the car and Magnus turns the key in the ignition, Alec rubs his palms in an attempt to make them warm. Magnus observes him and then he forces himself to focus back on the road, switching the heating on, to which Alec smiles at him.

“You were right.” He says then. “It’s freezing.”

“Yeah, the weather hasn’t been treating us nicely lately.” Magnus agrees.

They both laugh again, and Magnus is grateful that the atmosphere for their first meeting his already back.

“So your brother took the car again?” Magnus asks, after the laughter dies down.

“I mean, he takes it all the time he wants.” Alec resorts. “I guess he claimed Wednesday as his own too now. But it’s fine. It’s a longer way to his work than to the university or the hospital.”

Magnus nods, eyes fixated back on the road. They sit in silence for a little while, but it’s a comfortable one. But Magnus’ thoughts wander back to when he spotted Alec leaving one of the hospital rooms. He wonders who does he visit there. The room was definitely the children’s one, Magnus knows that, because he comes there regularly, to play with the kids. He desperately tries to remember if any of the patients there may resembling Alec at some point. What if he has a child? Or maybe he is just visiting his family, a younger brother or sister…

There’s too many possibilities, but it would probably be inappropriate to ask about such things now.

“It’s weird, don’t you think?” Alec’s voice brings him back to reality as he speaks. Magnus dares a glance at him, but Alec’s eyes are focused on the road ahead of them. Before Magnus gets to question what he means, the younger man elaborates. “I mean, how exactly a week later we meet again.”

And as he says it, Magnus feels like he too is trying to seek a reason of Magnus’ often visits to the hospital.

Maybe if he starts, Alec will also tell him his own?

“Actually, I go there every Wednesday. I’ve been for about a year now.” He admits, and catches in the corner of his eyes, as Alec’s gaze returns to him. But before he asks, something, Magnus picks back up. “I’m a volunteer at my friend’s charity organisation, and as part of that, I come to the hospital to spend some time with the patients. You know, just help them if they need it, or do something fun. Wednesdays are the only ones I have work at nine, so I decided it’s a good day.”

“This is so kind of you.” Alec resorts, with an honest awe in his voice. “Really, taking your own time to make someone’s day a bit better. I’m sure you get busy with all the work, but still, you’re doing that. That’s just amazing.”

Magnus feels himself blush at the prise from Alec’s mouth. He heard it lots of times, when he admitted to being a part of the organisation. But it is truly an amazing work and always admired the volunteers.

“I figured, that if I have some time, I can use it somehow. Not only for my personal benefit.” He shrugs.

“Don’t be so modest.” Alec asserts. “The world needs more people like you.”

Magnus chuckles briefly, but Alec’s next words come out in a firmer tone.

“Really. It’s great to know that there are actually some good people left, that are not blinded by money and fame.”

Magnus nods in agreement. He’s always been sick of how this world is corrupted. He hates how he was one of those people who only care for themselves, but he’s changed. Maybe it was too late, and he learned the hard way how it feels to lost something, before actually getting to appreciate it, but he’s better now. Or at least he hopes so.

“So, maybe…” Alec clears his throat awkwardly and stats again. “Maybe you know my brother? Since you come there every week. His name is Max…”

Magnus quickly scans his brain, in search of that name, and he does remember.

“Yeah, I think I do know him.” Magnus nods, more to himself, but Alec mirrors the gesture anyway. “We often play video games.”

“He loves those.” Alec says and smiles.

“’Mario Kart’, right?” Magnus recalls playing that one with that boy. He actually was quite good at that.

“Yes, he’s kind of obsessed with it now.” Alec chuckles.

“I also remember an impressive collection of books.” Magnus adds with a grin. “He mentioned something about his brother feeding it regularly…”

And if Magnus looks deeper into that, there really is something similar about them. Maybe a bit of facial features, or the eyes. Max often speaks about his brother. Always highly.

“Yeah, it’s sort of our thing.” Alec says, with this kind of private smile, probably only reserved for his baby brother.

At the back of Magnus’ mind, there’s a voice that says, thank God, he doesn’t have a child. It wouldn’t be actually bad if he did. Just complicated. Alec looks like a reasonable man, he’s twenty three tops, and seems like he’s more focused on college than anything else.

“So yeah,” Alec continues after a moment. “I visit him quite often, and my classes start later on Wednesday, so I have some time to drop by.”

“That’s nice of you. I’m sure he appreciates it.” Magnus flashes him a quick smile.

He doesn’t want to ask anything more. He knows Max has leukaemia, and he’s not doing quite well recently. He’s pretty surprised Alec has just admitted the reason of his visits, considering how much Magnus knows about the patients there. Maybe he hoped Magnus didn’t recognize his brother? Either way, he’s quite happy to know. It does decrease some part of his curiosity, but makes him realise that it must be hard for Alexander, dealing with his brother’s illness. Magnus finds himself wanting to help, to just be there for him.

“You said you also have a sister?” Magnus recalls, trying to change the subject, showing Alec that they don’t need to speak about it anymore. “And there’s also your unreliable brother…”

Alec chuckles lightly, and he does seems quite more relaxed at the change of topic.

“Yeah, we all live together.” Alec states. “It’s both fun and terrifying at the same time.”

They laugh again, and soon, way too soon find themselves at the driveway of the college again.

Magnus wants to linger the moment. Share a few more minutes with Alexander, and as the younger man turns to probably thank for the ride again, Magnus catches his forearm. And he swears he can feel the shiver running down Alec’s skin.

“Look,” Magnus starts as an idea is forming in his brain. It’s nuts, and Alec probably will not agree, but still, you never know if you don’t try. “What if I offered you a deal?”

Alec just looks back at him, his expression turning more and more confused.

“What do you mean?” He asks with a hint of laugh in his voice.

“I mean,” Magnus begins to explain. “that we both are at the hospital on Wednesdays, basically the same hour. So, what if I kept driving you to the university?”

Alec’s eyes widen, and Magnus knows that it isn’t a usual proposition you wouldn’t get every day, from a man you met a week ago. But still, Magnus tries.

“It’s beneficial for everyone. You get to go to school by this amazing, contented car, instead of a bus, which by the way can often be late, and I get the feeling you don’t like being late.” Alec lets out some sound between a snort and a chuckle at that. “And, your brother would just take the car on Wednesdays, without your disapproval.” Magnus sums up and shrugs.

“Okay, these are valid points.” Alec agrees. “But what would you get from that?”

Magnus chuckles lightly at his words, because with that deal, he would get exactly what he wants, which is simply Alec’s company.

There’s no point in hiding it.

“I would get to spend twenty minutes of my week with you.” He resorts humbly and the blush that covers Alec’s face is a beautiful shade of red.

“Why would you want to spend time with me?” He only asks, with an unsure smile.

“Because I think you’re a truly interesting person, Alexander.”

Alec’s eyes widen again, and he ducks his head to hide even more blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“I’m not interesting.” He shakes his head lightly.

“I’d like to find that out myself.” Magnus resorts and Alec looks back at him then, and they share one of the softest smiles.

“If I agree,” Alec starts, and Magnus’ heart actually starts to beat a bit faster. “I’d give you some money for the petrol or something-“

“Alexander,” Magnus swiftly interrupts. “I’m only dropping you off, not driving around the city. It’s on the way to my work. I told you, it takes two seconds.”

“You said the same thing the last time.” Alec begins. “And again, we’re ending up sitting here like five more minutes at least.”

“Are you complaining?” Magnus asks with a smirk, which to his surprise Alec reciprocates.

“No.” He states softly. “Of course not. I actually enjoy your company too.”

Magnus’ heart might burst now any second as Alec throws another smile at him.

“I know we’ve basically just met, but…” Alec lets the sentence trail of, but Magnus nods.

“I get it.”

The few next moments pass by in silence, until Magnus finally breaks it.

“So do you agree?”

Alec lets out a long exhale and closes his eyes briefly as if trying to compose himself.

“Yeah, let’s do this.” He settles and Magnus smiles wider at him, trying to hide his excitement, but he knows it’s somehow showing.

“Great, so maybe…” Magnus begins. “we could exchange phone numbers? Just so you know, I’ll text you if something happens and I won’t be able to drive you, or you’ll let me know if you’re not coming. Just for emergencies.”

“Yeah, sure.” Alec already pulls his phone of out his pocket. “It’s a great idea.”

They exchange the numbers and now, as it’s time for Alec to leave, Magnus doesn’t feel the longing that much, knowing he’ll see him just next week.

“So thanks again, and I guess, I’ll see you next Wednesday?” Alec asks, as he gets ready to get out of the car.

“Yeah, you will.” Magnus resorts with a smile and Alec reciprocates. Then he’s out of the car, throwing a little wave in Magnus’ side.

He’s never been looking forward to Wednesday as much as he does now.

[afjakwritesarchive]

NWC #10

Started this on Friday, just finished it today. This is definitely one of the better ones I’ve written for this challenge, although I can’t say I’ve totally mastered it yet.

Pairing: USUK + France & UK friendship :) Words: 2,716 Rating: T AU: Human/Cardverse kinda Genre: Romance Summary: The Prince of Spades is engaged to be married, but not to the man he loves. A/N: Lmao, I’m always writing fics where Arthur is in love with Alfred first!! I need to write one where they fall in love at the same time hahaha.

It was raining in Spades kingdom. Arthur gazed wistfully out the window, wishing for sunshine. Although he usually loved the rain, he'd made plans earlier in the week to take an outing to the market, accompanied by his fiancée. Since it was an outdoor market and the rain showed no signs of letting up, he and Francis had resolved to stay inside for the day and finalize plans for their wedding.

"A pianist or a harpist?" Arthur asked the man, shifting through the profiles the wedding planner had given them which gave a small summary of any relevant information for each of their music options.

"Pianist." Francis said. "We've been at this for hours. Can we do something else?" He asked.

Arthur nodded, relieved by the man's suggestion. "Thank God you said something; I'm starting to get a headache from all of these tedious plans. What do you want to do instead?"

"Well, we could go to the window and watch Alfred while he works," Francis suggested with a cheeky grin, resting his chin in palm as he gazed across the table at Arthur.

Arthur felt heat rise to his face and attempted to cover it up with anger. "Oh, shut it, frog! What reason would I have to stare at a garden hand?" He huffed, feigning ignorance to Francis' implications.

"Perhaps the fact that you're foolishly in love with him might have something to do with it," said Francis in return, blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

Arthur glared down the table at Francis, abnormally thick brows furrowed and thin lips downturned in attempt to silence his fiancée. The man merely laughed, flipped his long, wavy hair over his shoulder, and leaned back in his chair.

It was common knowledge within the palace that the Arthur and his fiancée weren't in love each other. They certainly loved each other, yes; they'd been best friends since their infancy (though neither would admit any degree of affection for the other under the pain of death). Soon after Arthur was born, his parents had selected his fiancée for him. As the Prince of Spades, he'd needed someone high-ranking, with wealth and good manners. Francis, the son of a Duke, had been an easy selection to make. The pair had grown up together, always aware of their engagement, but they'd never fallen in love.

Francis had fallen in love with a similarly-ranking official in the Clubs kingdom ages ago, and the pair had been in a secret relationship for years. Arthur was well-aware of their relationship, and while it wasn't much of a scandal for Francis to he with someone else until he and Arthur were actually married, they'd both thought it best to keep it well-hidden.

Arthur, for his part, had remained impervious to love for the better portion of his twenty years of life. Unlike Francis, who had been in many relationships over the years, Arthur had never formed any long-lasting romantic inclinations toward anyone. He considered himself more of a solitary individual, needing only the occasional 'company' of a second person to sate him.

That is, until his father had hired a new gardener.

Alfred Jones was barely sixteen when he started working for the castle. Arthur, one year his senior, had been taken instantly by the incredible beauty the man possessed. He became a habitual wanderer of the extensive castle grounds in hopes of seeing Alfred, and his goal was reached more often than not. The pair became fast friends, often swapping sarcastic insults back and forth and debating whatever topic had been presented.

A year with Alfred passed faster than any other year of Arthur's life, a feat which the Brit couldn't help but to attribute to the newfound happiness he'd gained upon Alfred's arrival. Soon, a year had become two, and two became three. Although Arthur knew them to be the happiest years of his life, they had also been filled with incredible torment, for Arthur had fallen madly in love with Alfred.

To love Alfred doomed Arthur. The American, while possessing many charms, was of no rank or wealth. Even if Arthur had been able to break his engagement to Francis, he would never be permitted to be with Alfred, nor did Arthur know if Alfred even wanted to be with him. While Arthur had grown closer to Alfred than anyone else he knew, he was clueless to the American's feelings for him in return. Alfred had told Arthur of several hook-ups during their friendship, and though none of them were recent, he hadn't given the Brit any reason to believe he felt anything more than a platonic affection for him.

A knock at the door interrupted Arthur and Francis' silent stare-down. Arthur rose from his seat and opened the door, flushing at the sight of the man in the doorway.

Alfred was standing standing outside the door, soaking wet from head to toe and running a hand through his waterlogged hair. Dirt covered his clothes and arms, along with a smudge on his cheek. He dropped his hands at the sight of Arthur, bowing respectfully before he looked up and grinned at the Brit.

"Hi, your highness," Alfred greeted.

"H-Hello, Alfred." Arthur greeted in reply, trying his hardest not to think about the soaking wet shirt that currently was clinging to Alfred's perfectly toned torso.

"I'm supposed to ask what kind of flowers you want for the wedding. We're gonna start planting them around the garden."

"Today? Isn't it a bit early for that?" Arthur questioned, frowning.

Alfred shrugged. "Not necessarily, but if you don't know yet, you still have some time before you have to know. Do you want me to come back another time?"

"Er, no, we've picked the flowers." Arthur turned on his heel and retreated into the room, motioning for Alfred to follow him in.

" Hi, Duke Bonnefoy." Alfred greeted with a respectful bow to the man in the room.

Francis smiled knowingly and waggled his fingers in the way of a wave. Then, standing suddenly, he turned to Arthur.

"You know, I think I'd like to go try on some of the clothes I bought yesterday." Francis said.

"What?" Arthur asked, surprised. "But—" when Francis shot him a pointed look and jerked his head toward Alfred (who was preoccupied by the various documents strewn about the table), Arthur paused and abruptly shut his mouth. Then, "yes. Alright."

"Oh, and Alfred?"

The American's head jerked up and he turned toward Francis. "Yes, sir?" He asked.

"Would you please do me the favor of bringing Arthur dinner tonight? He'll eat in his room at seven. Usually I would, but I'm afraid I have a meeting tonight and will be otherwise occupied." Francis explained, a sweet smile plastered onto his handsome face.

"Wha—Francis!" Arthur sputtered, gaping.

Alfred nodded. "Of course, sir, as you wish. I would be happy to." He said.

"Thank you, Alfred. You are divine." Francis purred, shooting a cheeky smile in Arthur's direction before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

"So," Alfred said, turning back toward Arthur. "What were the flowers you wanted?" He asked.

"Erm, I think we've settled on white orchids." Arthur answered, somewhat flushed in the face. "Francis prefers them."

Alfred raised a brow. "You don't like them?"

"No, they're lovely, really. I'm partial to the rose, though." Arthur answered, shrugging. "Ah, well. Sometimes sacrifices must be made in order to get married."

Alfred frowned. "What kind of sacrifices? I thought getting married was supposed to be something amazing, y'know? I mean, especially if you're in love, right?" He said naively.

Arthur sighed heavily, meeting Alfred's eyes for a moment. Incredible sadness swam in them, and Alfred seemed aware of it. He took a step forward. Alfred reached for the Prince's face only to stop short, instead dropping his hand to the elder's shoulder.

"Arthur...?" Began Alfred gently, concern etched into his handsome face.

"I suppose therein lies the problem," said Arthur sadly. "For Francis and I may be getting married, but we don't love each other. Not the way two people are supposed to when getting married. It's an arrangement I've been aware of since I was barely four years old, and I had held out hope that one day he and I might grow to fall in love with each other, but..."

"But?" Alfred questioned, eyes searching his friend's face.

Arthur raised his head and summoned all of his courage. God, Alfred had to know. Couldn't he see how much the Prince adored him? How much he wanted to be with him? How could the American even begin to think Arthur loved Francis when he was so clearly mad for him?

"Because I love you, Alfred." Arthur stated plainly, his eyes gazing steadily into the American's.

Alfred paused, seeming frozen. His calloused hand slipped from Arthur's shoulder and the plush lips Arthur longed to kiss fell open into an 'o' of surprise, simply gaping in awe at the Prince. Then, finally, "...What?"

"I love you, Alfred. I've loved you since the day I saw you. You're the only one I want—the only one I've ever wanted so much. I've never been in love before but I know I love you because my heart aches so much I lay awake at night thinking of you and I can't stand the thought that I'll be married before the year is out because I know you're far too respectable to ever try and be with me when I'm married. God, Alfred, I'm so mad for you I can't think when you're around, I'm absolutely hypnotized by you." Arthur rambled, pouring his emotions out before the American with the beginnings of tears in his eyes. The emotions he'd long concealed were spilling from him and he couldn't seem to restrain himself.

Alfred was still staring at him. "But I'm just your servant. F-Francis is your fiancee!" Alfred insisted, wide-eyed.

Arthur's throat constricted painfully, now well aware that Alfred didn't return his feelings in the slightest. "I know, I know. But I'm not in love with him. I've simply been arranged to marry him. It was never my choice, nor was it my choice to fall in love with you. I just did." He explained.

And then Alfred was taking Arthur by the arms and walking him backwards until the Prince's back hit the wall. Alfred pressed himself against him and they were kissing and Arthur was melting, his knees going weak and his body completely in Alfred's hands, hot and panting and kissing the man feverishly. Alfred had his hands on Arthur's hips and Arthur was pushing himself against Alfred, tugging at the silky golden hair he'd always longed to run his hands through.

Alfred broke away and Arthur whined. "Alfred—!" He whined, hooking his arms around the American's neck.

"This is wrong," Alfred said, carefully pulling Arthur's arms away from him. "I'm here to serve you and Duke Francis. I can't divide you two like this! You're set to take the throne soon with him at your side, I-I can't do this to you two!"

"Wait, please, Alfred! Please, I-I love you!" Arthur cried, taking the younger's arm when he tried to walk away.

Alfred's face fell. "I love you too," he whispered, incredible pain in his eyes. "You're my best friend, Arthur. I can't stand that you're about to marry him. I can't stand that someone else gets to have you. But I don't deserve you, and it's obvious nothing can be done about this."

Arthur shook his head rapidly. "N-No! No, something can be done! There has to be something! God, Alfred if I had known I'd have been fighting this engagement so long ago! Please, don't leave me when I've only just gotten a taste of you. Please." Arthur begged.

Tears were swimming in Alfred's eyes now. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm so sorry." He said.

With a quick parting kiss to the Brit's lips, he was gone.

Arthur was pacing across his bedroom with his hands clasped behind his back when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!" He called.

The door opened and Alfred appeared with a tray balanced on his palm. "Dinner, your highness." He mumbled, keeping his head down so as not to meet Arthur's eyes.

The Prince rushed forward, snatching the tray out of Alfred's hand. The American looked up, astonished, as the Prince half-tossed the tray down onto his writing desk and then took him by the arms, tugging him closer. "I talked to my parents," he said.

Alfred blinked rapidly. "What?"

"I spoke to my parents about you!" Arthur answered, hands trembling as they gripped the American.

Alfred floundered. "I-I don't understand."

"I was going absolutely mad thinking of you and I couldn't let myself sit by and do nothing as my future was decided for me. I love you, Alfred. I have to be with you. I'd rather live the rest of my life alone than be bound to anyone else. I'd fight forever just to have you kiss me again."

Alfred still seemed perplexed. "B-But what about Francis?" He asked, seeming concerned.

"Francis is madly in love with a member of the King's Court in Clubs! He's been trying to help you and I get together since the day he realized I loved you, and I've been fighting it and resigning myself to this horrid fate because the possibility of someone as angelic as you ever loving me back was so slim, and I didn't want to destroy everything my parents had worked so hard for. But you do love me, and therefore I cannot ever allow myself to marry Francis. I won't take my place as king without you by my side." Arthur said quickly, nervous once more.

Alfred was completely astounded, and made his feelings known. "B-But—Arthur, I'm your servant! Your parents would never allow it! What if you're tearing everything apart for nothing? What if they disown you or something? I couldn't give you the life you deserve. I can't do this to you," he argued.

Arthur cupped Alfred's face in his hands, staring up at him with adoration. "My love, while I admire your selflessness, there is no need for it. I told my parents I refused to take the throne if you could not have a place beside me, and they agreed. They couldn't sacrifice their only son. Besides, they love me; they want me to be happy. While I can't say it will be easy on you, I will defend you no matter what. You are the one I want, and nothing on Earth can change that."

"S-So you're not marrying Duke Francis?"

"Lord, no! I'll be marrying you! That is, if you still want me after our year is up."

"I'll always want you," Alfred murmured, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Arthur's. "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I," Arthur said, a blissful smile set upon his face.

"You're seriously all mine?" Alfred asked again, as if to be sure he wasn't simply imagining it.

Arthur's smile grew into an all-out grin. "Yes, I'm all yours. Completely wrapped around your finger."

"Damn. I get to date the Crown Prince of Spades. I'm a lucky guy, huh?"

Arthur smiled. "No; I am. I get to date the best gardener in all of Spades."

Alfred's head fell back, laughing. Arthur gazed upon the American's laughing face with adoration. That smile would make all well in his world.

[ladyninjaa]

Melodies

Imagine: Being the younger sister of Daenerys and impressing Jon Snow. (Not apart of the Warmth series.)

With the destruction of the Greyjoy ships and the loss of alliance from Dorne…your older sister wasn’t happy. You did your part by teaming up with Tyrion and trying to plan for future attacks or tragedies’. A few days ago Jon Snow the proclaimed King of the North had arrived with a small group of Northern men and that meeting only served to dampen your sister’s already foul mood.

She had been clearly instructed by her sister to keep her distance because she didn’t quite trust these men yet. You were her treasure, just like her dragons, and she would fight to protect you at any costs.

You were bore though—while these Northern men were allowed to roam the castle while you were stuck in certain rooms deep within the castle. “I want to be out in the fields with the dragons,” You complained to your sister in the strategy room, “Why are you so intent on keeping me in the dark?” Your sister was staring down hard at the wooden table silent as she thought. Tyrion was nearby drinking some wine and watching your sister with curious eyes.

“I don’t trust them completely.” She replied in a quiet voice.

“I’m not some caged bird, you know.” You easily accused.

“You’re a dragon.” She corrects with some hard to hear sarcasm.

You’re eyebrow twitches with irritation. Your sister had some shit timing with her humor. “Are we really going to have this argument?” You coolly demanded with a serious face.

She sighs and finally looks up at you, “Not today.”

You huff and cross your arms over your chest, “I am not some caged beast, Dany. You always say that a dragon is not a slave well, I certainly feel like one. We’re on our home island, the dragons are constantly flying ahead, and we have a rather large army willing to die for the both of us here.”

Dany looks like she will not budge but you know your sister very well. “We are safe here. No one is brave or dumb enough to even come near the island especially with Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal in the air.” You urge her knowing it would be the final push for her to grant you your freedom.

She pursues her lips, deep in thought, and answered back, “Fine, I will grant you your freedom and in return you have to play the piano for me.” She smirks slowly and you try not to groan. You hated playing that bloody thing but Dany loved it. You only did it for her because you liked seeing the peaceful expression on her face whenever you played. Dany always told you that Mother played as well and would always play for her and Viserys.

Viserys had forced you to learn since, well, you looked the most like mother. Dany was a combination of father and mother but you were the spitting image of Rhaella Targaryen. Perhaps that was the reason why Viserys was always gentler to you and preferred you over Dany…so much to the point where Viserys had told Dany that you were meant to marry him to keep the Targaryen blood line alive.

You loved your brother but the idea of marrying him was disgusting.

You often did miss him though.

“Ah, will I finally hear you play?” Tyrion brightened up—the last few weeks had been rough for the Lannister.

He always pestered you to play just a little something for him.

You sigh knowing it was a small sacrifice to pay for your freedom, “Fine.”

Dany smiled and nodded, “Go on and break your fast with Tyrion. I will call you to the throne room after.” She instructed looking very eager to hear you play. It had been a very long time since you last played and you almost felt guilty for not playing earlier to bring some comfort to your sister.

Tyrion was at your side as they both of you made way to the dining room to eat. “Why are you so eager anyway?” Tyrion questioned once the both of you were a safe distance from Daenerys.

“I want to go to the beach and collect sea-shells.” You admit brightly.

Tyrion let out a loud laugh, “Is that what all your fussing is for? You want sea-shells?” He looks greatly amused and even surprised by such an innocent motive. It has been a very long time since he’s seen such innocence and it reminded him a lot of Myrcella.

You nod not feeling offended by his amusement, “I had planned on sewing a new gown for my sister and I wanted to add sea-shells.” You explained vaguely.

Tyrion chuckled shaking his head, Ah, Y/N, you are a rather odd Targaryen.”

You giggled and took that as a compliment.

**

Breaking fast with Tyrion was always enjoyable. It wasn’t long until you were making way towards the throne room. Tyrion matching your step looking extremely eager to hear you play the piano. Even Tyrion knew that a piano was extremely rare and for a woman to play was rarer. Viserys managed to convince some rich lord into giving you piano lessons. It wasn’t long until the lord had been so impressed with your skill that he offered the instrument to you with no strings attached.

“It would only sit here collecting dust and being sad,” You remember him saying with even some woe, “When you play it, it comes alive.”

You always wondered what became of him. He was perhaps dead by now. It had been such a long time since that happened. Dany was sitting on her throne speaking with Varys and the piano that your mother used to play sat elegantly in the middle. Your father had given your mother this as a wedding gift.

Despite the mutual dislike your parents had…Rhaella loved this instrument. You were glad that King Stannis had enough sense not to mess with such a rare instrument. It looked well cared for despite the years it had been since Rhaella last played it.

“I have an audience.” You take note of Missandei walking in hurriedly with a smile of excitement.

“It is not everyday we hear you play.” The former slave smiled gently at you.

You chuckle softly as Tyrion joins Varys and Missandei. You take your seat in front of the piano. You have seen only two pianos before but this one was…the fairest of them all. It was made of white wood with the Targaryen sigil on the top and the keys were of some sort of black and red porcelain.

A lot of gold went into this lovely instrument and it showed.

Your mother sat here…stroke these keys. You weren’t sure what you were feeling…grief? Was it excitement? Or was it some feeling of somberness? “Mother played while she was pregnant with you.” Dany murmured—her voice bouncing off the stone walls.

You nodded though you barely heard her—you were too focused on staring at the black and red keys. It was such a dark contrast against the white wood. You straighten your back and you hover your delicate fingers over the dark keys. You breathed in and out before letting your fingers stroke the keys expertly and with care.

The large room is filled with soft, delicate sounds.

You play Viserys favored melody. Daenerys’s face softened at the sound because she knew. Your brother died in a horrible way but his greed blinded him and bound him to his fate. You remember that night vividly; that night, so long ago, was meant to celebrate that Dany was with child—the future of the tribe and your precious niece or nephew.

You and Dany had thrived with the Dothraki but Viserys didn’t and it showed.

You remember him barging in, Jorah attempting to subdue him, and Viserys pulling his sword. You were terrified because you had never seen him so…crazed and lustful towards something so mundane. You attempted to calm him as he wielded the blade towards your sister and her unborn child but he cut your cheek and threw you to the side yelling that you should learn your place.

“Your place, you whore, is beside me your future husband!”

Your eyes flashed with sorrow as he threatened to take Dany from Drogo and even threaten the unborn child inside of her. You were so disgusted towards him…more then ever. You hated him at that point. How low could he scope to threaten his own flesh and blood?

You remember the fury brewing behind Drogo’s calm façade. You remember one of his blood-riders gently grabbing you and placing you far away from your deranged brother. One of the women had pressed a wet cloth to your cheek and even asked if you were alright.

Even now, you could feel the sting from his blade.

Drogo spoke and his words were directed towards your sister and you—asking for permission for something…you dreaded. Daenerys was staring at your brother and gave her answer to him—that he would get his crown and men would tremble before it.

His face…you mentally shook your head. His face washed with relief and joy. A crown was all he ever wanted. It was then that the great Khal rose to his feet as Viserys lowered his weapon and backed away with a smile.

Drogo and Dany exchanged glances before your sister looked to you.

You had tears in your eyes but inside you just knew it had to be done. You couldn’t risk him having another deranged episode and actually killing the unborn child inside of her. She looked back up at the Khal and it was done.

You would never forget his screams.

Your fingers paused and the melody was broken.

“Do you regret killing Viserys?”

It was Dany who asked. She knew you too well.

You shook your head, “No, it was either him or your child.”

She was quiet because she, too, was haunted by the screams of Viserys dying. You straighten your back and resume the melody that your sister loved. It was a whimsical and gentle melody that always left your sister with a gentle smile on her face—a rare sight.

“She’s a natural.” Tyrion praised letting the angelic melody flood his ears.

“And yet she hates to play.” Dany mused.

“Well, she was forced by your brother to learn.” Varys commented.

When you were finished, you smiled up at your sister. She smiled back at you because she knew you hated to play but only did so for her. It was then that the great room was echoing with the sound of hands clapping. All attention was turned to the entrance of the throne room where Ser Davos stood with his King.

Your eyes landed on this King of the North and you felt your heart stutter at his rugged beauty. He looked so odd to the men you grew up around. You were used to darker, tanned skin not this pale flesh you saw on this man.

His eyes were a dark color—you could not see his pupils or the white in his eyes. He had a scar over his right eye and his hair was pulled up but a few of his curly locks fell around his head. He was the most exquisite man you had ever seen.

He was the one who was clapping.

“Jon.” Your sister’s voice was sharp and you could tell she was tensed. Your existence was always a top priority for your sister. Not many knew of the existence of a younger Targaryen—not even Robert Baratheon or Tywin Lannister.

“Forgive me,” Jon says thickly with an almost awed look on his brooding face, “I know I wasn’t meant to intrude but I just had to see what was making such beautiful noise.”

His words were enough to make you blush.

“My aunt had one,” His eyes jerked to the piano, “Given it was uglier.”

You couldn’t help but to smile and his eyes seem to light up when he saw that radiant smile on your face, “I thought I was hearing angel choir.” His eyes solely on you—he was entranced.

“Thank you, my lord.” You continue to smile and bow your head slightly.

“If I might ask—“ Jon was cut off by your sister.

“Can I trust you, Jon?” Her voice was the calm before the storm and there was no nonsense in her tone.

Jon knew this and looked up at your sister. His eyes rested on hers as he pondered his answer. It didn’t take him long to answer, “Of everything we’ve heard about the Targaryen’s…we never heard of a younger on being born after you. It is easy to see that you’ve done a good job in hiding her existence and very wise.” Jon speaks with a nod of approval, “Yes, you can trust me.”

It wasn’t about the war or about him bending the knee, no; it was about keeping your existence a secret. Daenerys stared at Jon Snow intently, “This is my baby sister, Y/N.” She finally relents.

Jon looks at you—still seated at the piano looking nothing sort of a fallen angel. “Y/N.” He repeats gently.

Your heart almost melted.

Perhaps you would play the piano more often now.  

This was a request made by a anon. There will be no other parts. 

Also, if you are curious to hear the melody that I pictured in my head that the reader was playing for Dany (Dany’s favored melody) listen to BTS Butterfly (Piano cover) by lilyloo it is such an amazing and beautiful cover!

For Viserys favored song…I imagined Abandoned by Lucas King. Listen to both because they are lovely. 

[the-real-coronium]

Love, Love, Love pt 4

Jaune awoke the next day earlier than he had planned to, but that's wasn't anything too out of the ordinary. He got up, bathed, and changed into a casual set of clothes. He even chose to don his old hoodie, which was something he was rarely able to nowadays. Still, he wasn't expecting the next group of Hunters and Huntresses for the next few days so he had plenty of room to relax. He started on breakfast soon after, knowing the rest of his team and his angel would be up at any minute. He wasn't a match for Ren when it came to pancakes, but a father always needed to have at least a few tricks up his sleeve. After setting a few pans to heat up, he shredded a few potatoes and placed them in a bowl.  He cracked open a few eggs, whisked them, and set them down. RE took one quick look in the fridge to realize that he had everything he needed. The last thought he had before he got to work was "I'm going to need two spatulas for this"

 He heard the kitchen door open a short while later and looked over his shoulder to see Nora sticking her head it.

 "You've still got a bit of time," she reassured him. "Pyrrha's up helping Aven get ready, and me and Ren can always find a way to entertain ourselves. You need a hand in here?"

 "OOohhh no, I'm not falling for that again. You stay out. I'm not having a repeat of last week."

 "Look, I said I was sorry. Besides, they still got to eat lunch, didn't they?"

 Jaune laughed, but nodded. "I suppose so. Still, you're not getting a hold of this one. Out out out."

 He pushed her out the door and back into the dining hall. A few minutes later, it was Ren who entered.

 "I don't suppose you'd like any of MY help? No Nora. Promise," he said as he held up his hands.

 Jaune smiled at his friend, "Well I can live with that. Everything's pretty much done, I just need to serve. If you don't mind, do you think you can help me with the drinks? There's fresh juice in the fridge, along with some milk if anyone's interested."

 "Of course. Just let me know if ou need anything else."

 Working together in unison as smoothly as any mission, Jaune and Ren had the table set and served by the time Aven and Pyrrha came down from the bath. Jaune rushed over and picked up his beautiful girl, smothering her in kisses as she laughed. He placed her in a chair, and took his own right next to her. It was a great way to start a morning. Aven looked up at him, and when he saw the beautiful amber eyes curtained by those blond locks of hair, he was reminded of the day he had first seen her. On that day in the hospital, he had known that he would do anything in his power to make sure that she never so much as frowned. Her smile was enough to brighten his day no matter how often he saw it. Returning her smile with one of his own, he patted her hand twice.

 "So, what would you like to do today, Aven? We can go back out and explore the forest, we can go into town and explore a bit. We can do anything today, just let me know."

 Aven seemed to think long and hard about what she wanted to do as they continued to eat their breakfast. It was a few minutes before she looked back up at him and gave him her answer.

 "Papa, I want to stay here and read with you."

 Jaune was a little taken aback at the simple request. He had honestly been expecting something outrageous.

 "Are you sure? You wouldn't rather go out or do something else?"

 "I'm sure. We never finished."

 He remembered those long nights spent in front of the window. The days she could stay up late because she had no school the next day. He remembered how Velvet used to bring the something to drink and ask how her two bookworms were doing. The warmth that radiated those moments even in the dead of winter. Before this cold empty fortress had become his home. Before he had decided that he knew best. Squeezing her hand, he assured her that they could. Delighted, he watched her run off, her little feet taking her up the stairs and back to her room. Jaune watched her go with a smile, happy that she could still be pleased by just spending time with him. He stood up and turned his attention to picking up the plates but a hand on his made him pause. It was Pyrrha.

 "It's fine we can get it."

 "A-are you sure? I mean, there's a lot of dishes in there. I kind of got overzealous..."

 "Jaune, unless an Ursa pops out of one of the pots, I'm sure we can handle it," she answered with a laugh.

 "Thank you guys. You've been a huge help these past couple of days."

 "Jaune, if you're going to get all mushy on us, I'm gonna change my mind," Nora said with a smile as she crossed her arms.

 "Ah, right. Sorry. I'll pay you guys back somehow, though."

 "You can pay us back by getting out of here."

 With a smile, Jaune went to go find his daughter. She was waiting for him in the living room, in the largest, comfiest looking seat in the house. Before he sat down, Jaune tended to the fireplace, making sure that it would keep them warm for at least a while before he had to see to it again. Then, he sat down and placed Aven on his lap. She held up the book they had been reading before he left. "The Princess and the Squire." Smiling, Jaune opened the book to where they left off and began.

 He read with a new found energy, animating each page, painting an image in her mind of exactly what was going on. She tried her best to follow along, her brow furrowing on the larger words. They reached the climax of the book, where the the brave young squire had saved the princess from the clutches of the terrible beast and brought her home. He had been made a full fledged knight, but it didn't matter to him, because he couldn't see the princess anymore.

 "And so, the king told him that he could no longer see the princess. He was a knight, and she was a princess. 'But I'm a knight now,!' Sky said. But the king only shook his head. 'There are many things a knight must face. But the hardest thing in a knight's life isn't fighting a thousand dragons to save his princess. It's accepting that, whatever sacrifices he makes, she will never be his. If you really love her, the best thing you can do now is to leave her alone. Time will help you.' And then the king sent Sky away."

 "That's not fair, Papa! Why can't Sky go see the princess? Does Sky go see her anyway?"

 "I don't know sweetie. Let's find out together, okay?"

 But before they could turn the page to continue the story, there was a knock on the door. Knowing that his friends were probably still cleaning up that disaster of a kitchen, Jaune picked up Aven and said "Let's go see who that is, shall we?"

 He carried her with him all the way to the door and opened it, making sure that Aven was covered from the cold. He wasn't sure who he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the person standing before him.

 "Mama!"

 Aven nearly jumped out of her arms to her mother. Velvet smiled and caught her, laughing. She pulled Aven close and they rubbed their noses together. Their ears moved and wiggled in a similar gesture, the tops gently rubbing against each other.

 "Is everything alright?" Jaune asked.

 HIs happiness at seeing her was evident on his face, but so was the worry. For Velvet to come back early wasn't really a good sign. She wasn't the type of person who would go back on her words and try to pick up Aven early. Not unless there was a reason.

 Velvet looked at him, almost apologetically. "The reports are coming in. The storm we thought was going to pass us by changed direction. If we don't leave today, we'll be stuck here for a few days at least by the snow. Since we can't exactly rent a bulwark, we'd be trapped by the snow. I'm sorry Jaune, but we need to go."

 "What?! Mama, no, I don't want to go yet! You promised I could stay for three whole days!"

 "I know, Aven, and I'm sorry. But I'll bring you back soon. We need to go. You still have school."

 "I don't want to go! I want to stay here with Papa! You promised!"

 Velvet looked down at their daughter with an almost helpless expression until Jaune stepped in.

 "But sweetie, don't you want to see your friends? They'll be waiting for you, you know. And so will your teachers. School is important. You can come back and visit again soon."

 "No! You and Mama promised. I don't care about school!"

 Jaune wasn't sure how this could end without Aven crying all the way back to Vale, but an idea came to his mind.

 "Tell you what, why don't you two stay for lunch? It's about time I get started cooking. We can talk about it while we eat, okay?"

 He saw Aven finally calm down a little. Lunch wasn't so bad, after all. It bought them all more time. Smiling, Jaune looked up at Velvet next.

 "What do you say, Mama? Does that sound alright?"

 "Well, I suppose that would be fine," she answered without meeting his gaze.

 "Well then, that settles it. I'll get started right away, now come one, it's freezing outside."

 Jaune headed into the kitchen as Aven lead Velvet into the living room to show her the bookshelves. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to make, but he wanted to take his time. The last thing he wanted to see was them leaving... His ears perked up as he heard the door behind him open gently.

 "It's alright, Nora. I've got it. You can relax."

 "Actually, the team's with Aven. They sent me in here to help. If you need any, that is."

 Surprised, Jaune turned around to see Velvet standing in the doorway.

 "O-of course, you're always more than welcome to help," he said with a nervous laugh.

 "In fact, I could really use it. I have to start cooking the pasta. Do you think you could start grating the cheese?" he asked gesturing towards the block he had pulled out.

 "Well, if you think it will help," she answered before putting on one of the aprons hanging on the rack and getting to work.

 They worked together in silence, neither knowing what to say. He sliced, she diced, and they both came together to combine the ingredients. They worked well together, even after the separation. It was a familiar feeling, and it felt so... natural to him, that Jaune barely noticed that they were almost done. He realized that he still needed one more thing done, and reached out to touch Velvet on the shoulder. She flinched at his touch, pulling away slightly. It hurt, but Jaune couldn't blame her. He probably would have reacted the same way, were he put in her shoes.

 "Sorry," was the only response to he could muster.

 "I... I think I'll wait with the others."

 Lunch was served shortly after. Aven sat on one end of the table. Jaune sat on her right, Velvet sat on her left, and Ren , Nora, and Pyrrha took seats beside them. Because of the arrangements, every time Jaune looked up, he found himself staring into the same amber eyes that he had fallen in love with. But still, she was trying not to hold his gaze. Eventually, he started focusing on his own meal, trying to make things easier on her. Aven looked around, a bit confused. This was the only meal at her Papa's house that had ever been silent.

 As their meal came to a close, The rest of the team said they would deal with the dishes, once again helping him out. Jaune took the extra time to turn to his family.

 "Aven, sweetie, I know you don't want to leave yet, but you need to go with your mama," he said, taking her hand.

 "What? But Papa, I don't want to! I don't want to go! I want to stay here! You promised we could do whatever I wanted to today, and I want to stay here!"

 Jaune felt his heart start to split as the tears well up in her eyes and started rolling down her cheeks.

 "I know you do, and you know I like to keep my promises, but you need to think of your Mama too. I'm sure she's going to miss you a whooooole lot if you don't go with her. You'll come back, real soon, I promise but for now, it's important that you go with Mama, okay?"

 Aven was still crying, but she wasn't offering any arguments.

 "Tell you what, Why don't you and I go read a little more while Momma goes and collects your things, okay?"

 "....Okay."

 Jaune gave Velvet directions to the room and led Aven back to the living room. He read slowly, trying to make each page last, as if that might buy them more time.  Each turn of the page seemed to bring a tear to Aven's eyes, but she said nothing. It seemed like all too soon when Velvet came down, carrying Aven's bags.

 "Alright, sweetie, it's time to go."

 As Jaune carried Aven to the car outside, along with one of her bags. He placed the bag in the trunk and he helped buckle in his angel.

 "You be good for Mama, okay? You'll be back before you know it. And we'll finish that book, okay?"

 "Okay, Papa."

 "I love you very much, Aven."

 " I love you too, Papa."

 As Jaune closed the door, he looked over at Velvet, and could tell that they were both remembering the way things had gone. The hurt, the anger. He had tried to make their decision for both of them. He hadn't even asked what they had wanted when he left. He was protecting them. He hadn't wanted to take them away from their friends, their city, their lives, just because of him. So he had left, trying to keep them from having to make a painful choice.

 Still, the more he looked at her, the more his chest ached. That feeling that he had been trying to ignore all weekend was finally threatening to overwhelm him. He hated it. He couldn't do that to them, not after they were finally.... and then he looked inside the car. Aven wasn't looking at him, or at Velvet. She wasn't even looking forward. She hung her head, trying to hide the tears. The feeling broke down the last of his defenses, and finally shouted its name into his ears. Regret.

 He had forced his family apart in the name of protecting them. He had caused them to suffer because of his pride. Because he thought that he knew best. He looked at Aven's bobbing shoulders, and then to Velvet's saddened eyes. He hadn't protected a damn thing. ALl of this had been for nothing. He had been so focused on his duty that he had neglected everything important to him. But no... no more. He wouldn't do this to them for the rest of his life. NO MORE.

 "I'm sorry."

 "What?" Velvet asked looking confused.

 "I'm sorry. I've hurt you both, so much. I tried to do what was best, but I didn't even think of what that might do to you. I've been stupid, and I've been prideful. I've done nothing but hurt you and I'm so very, very sorry."

 He took a few steps, bringing himself closer.

 "I tried to protect everyone in the most selfish way possible, and I'm sorry. But I'm also sorry that I'm about to be even more selfish."

 He finally made it up to her and took her hand. Her eyes were as wet as his own, but she didn't flinch out of his grasp.

 "Stay. Please, the both of you stay. I don't want to live another day separated from you or Aven ever again. I'm so sorry about everything that I've done up until now, but all I want is for you to give me one more chance. I promise, things will get better. They may not be perfect, but I'm willing to give it everything I've got. I want to reach that other shore, but I can't do it without you. Please... just stay."

 Velvet stared at him for a few seconds, the tears finally starting to spill over onto her cheeks.

 "..... We need to go."

 She slowly took her hand out of his and walked away. She climbed into the driver's seat, and Jaune stood rooted to the ground, watching as their car became a speck on the horizon. He watched long after that speck had disappeared hoping that he might see them coming back. He continued to watch as the sun began to start its descent. He might have stayed there all night had he not felt a pair of hands on his shoulder.

 "C'mon, Jaune. Let's go inside."

 They led him back up the steps and in the door, though he stopped to look back outside one more time.

 "Time will help....."

 The door closed.

[infinitaenoctis]

@technochocobro

Lucis and Niflheim had been at war for years— if one would actually call this war. Until this day, there had hardly been any fights, mainly due to the wall that the King of Lucis upheld and as much as everyone tried to ignore it, he was getting weaker with every day. Everyone in the Citadel knew, his son knew, and the Empire might do so as well; it was only a matter of time until either Lucis or Niflheim had to give in but for a long time both nations remained stubborn.

But when the king received a message from Niflheim asking for ending this war peacefully with a treaty, the whole Citadel seemed to breathe a sigh of relief despite fearing that Niflheim might try to play a trick on them. There was no other option though, they couldn't defend themselves for much longer and actually fighting against Niflheim's troops was... not a very smart thing to do. It was impossible to know about the full capacity of their troops and Regis wasn't going to sacrifice his men.

The only option they had was to accept, and so they did. Noctis, certainly not keen on his father inviting the Emperor to Insomnia, was supposed to be present too when Regis and Iedolas would speak about the claims. As the future king, it concerned him too, since no one could tell how long it would take until he'd have to ascend his father— not that he wanted to. All those duties seemed to be too much for someone like Noctis, someone who would rather stay away from people altogether, and this wouldn't be the first time he was close to panicking before an event like this.

As far as Noctis was concerned, he kept himself out of anything public unless he was forced to, but public events always got his anxiety level up like nothing else. And now this? He really wasn't made for stuff like this but luckily, Gladio and Ignis were there with him when they gathered in the throne room where Regis would welcome the Nifs and discuss whatever claims both parties wanted to make.

Noctis was awkwardly shifting in his seat until Ignis had to put a hand on his shoulder to keep him still, which the prince was silently thanking him for. However, their attention was soon driven to the opening doors.

The Emperor strode in with a bunch of Nifs that Noct wouldn't even recognize if he would've listened to Ignis' lectures. A guy with weird looking clothes and purple-ish hair that looked way too pleased with himself in Noctis' opinion, some people that weren't interesting enough to give a second glance and then a blond guy his age who looked like... well, like he didn't want to be here, just like him.

"Didn't know the Nifs had a prince," Gladio mumbled, which definitely got Noct's attention. "You think it's their prince?" he whispered back but only got a shrug in response before he turned his head back to the group that now stood in front of his father. Noct even craned his neck a little to get a look at their supposed prince, but despite the blond hair and the uncomfortable look on his face, there wasn't much that he could make out from where he sat.

But right now he should really be listening to what was being said— he had missed the formal greetings already. Not that he deemed them important anyway.

"It is about time that we end this war, for the sake of both our nations," Regis started and even though he had his emotions under control, he was clearly relieved to have a chance to put an end to this and finally rest. "I assume that you already have a solution in mind since you were the one to reach out to us."

There was silence for a while – the Emperor didn't seem to like Regis' choice of words – before he finally got some kind of answer. "I have a feeling that, after so many years, a powerful connection is needed to put an end to this war," the older man started and Noctis absolutely didn't like the sound of that. It sounded like there was something on his mind, something that would give him an advantage... and they all knew that Regis couldn't actually say no to any demands. "As you can see, I brought my son with me today. And I believe that the best way to end a war is a wedding."

At that, Regis could only raise an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "As much as I'd... like to connect our nations with a marriage, I doubt this will be possible. I don't have a daughter, and I think that—"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence when Iedolas cut him off. "You do have a son, don't you? And this is for the sake of both of our nations, as you said earlier. Our sons are to be wed in Insomnia, and then we will both sign our peace treaty. The war would be over, Niflheim and Lucis would be a powerful alliance."

Noctis could feel a cold shiver run down his spine— they weren't serious about that, were they? His father wouldn't marry him off to the Prince of Niflheim, he wouldn't... there was no way he'd do that to Noctis. But apparently, he was wrong about that.

"Is this your only condition?" Regis asked, sounding even more bitter than before.

It felt like someone just put their hands around Noct's neck and squeezed the air out of his lungs. That wasn't... happening right now. He wasn't ready for being involved in something like this (technically, he should be lucky that he wasn't already married), in something that was important enough to destroy whole Lucis. How was he supposed to do this!? And this wasn't even about marrying a guy, this was about marrying his enemy, or marrying in general.

He was about to get up and protest, but Ignis quickly grabbed his arm to pull him down again. "Noct, you do not want this to get out of hand, do you? You can talk to His Majesty later, not now."

As much as Noctis didn't like this... there was nothing he could do as of now. All he could do was to wait for their conversation to be over— soon, hopefully.

[ecotone99]

[MS] Mary-Lou of the Dell

It had been six hours since Mary-Lou decided she wouldn’t sleep tonight. Soon, the sun would rise, and the roosters’ calls would bring forth a new day. A special day. For today was The Celebration of Wishes, a ceremony to bring in the new year for all the members of the village. Elder Orylyn would be calling upon the benevolent spirits of the dell to grant wishes for a select few of the villagers. An old woman, the townsfolk knew this could be her final Celebration, and envy would surely spread through those not chosen, much like a fire through grass in the midst of a dry spell. This fire would be promptly quenched with an assortment of alcohol and dances in the village center, an event which all able bodies would attend.

Mary-Lou had kept the same wish locked away inside her heart for the past five years, since she’d become old enough for her parents to begin negotiations to find her a husband. She wanted a new life, a new adventure, and the man of her dreams to accompany her. She didn’t know what part of her this wish had grown from, but she had her guesses. The desire to leave the monotonous life of a farmer’s daughter surely originated from the day to day experience of being a farmer’s daughter, she thought.

Mary-Lou got out of her bed and dressed for the day. Her dress was becoming worn through, but the holes near the center were easy enough to cover with an apron. She finished tying her shoes (which were also adorned with holes) and set off for the town center.

Although the sun’s rays were barely visible over the grassy hills to the east, Mary-Lou was not the first to arrive. It seemed that a few villagers had a similar mindset to Mary-Lou: if there’s but the slightest possibility that Orylyn rewards punctuality and sacrifice, it would be worth the lost hours of sleep. A handful of others stood around in conversation, and Mary-Lou could immediately identify why they were so keen to be selected. One older man seemed to shred his lungs coughing when incited to laugh, the sound sickened Mary-Lou. Paxton Farnsworth stood proudly despite missing his left arm, the result of an unfortunate accident which the family had thus refused to disclose. The rest of the villagers gathered were either on death’s door or very young, all of them holding the same sorts of youthful wishes within them.

Mary Lou approached Paxton, who had a stalk of wheat pressed between his lips on the right side of his mouth.

“Hello Paxton. I see you couldn’t find any sleep either?”

Paxton smiled. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can guess my wish. I’ll even give you three guesses,” he said.

“Hmm. Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re asking for a bountiful harvest.”

“Wrong. Two guesses left.”

“A healthy new calf?”

“Incorrect. Final guess.”

Mary-Lou furrowed her brow in mock concentration. “Could it be… oh of course! How could I fail to see this earlier? It must be to fix your crooked nose.”

Paxton attempted to keep his serious expression, but he shortly failed in this effort. They shared a friendly embrace.

“So, how have you been, Pax?”

“Oh, you know, milking one utter at a time, trying to find a creative way of shearing the sheep,” Paxton said. “And you?”

Mary-Lou sighed. “I’ve been bored, Pax. I’ve been really bored.”

She considered telling Paxton all about her wish, about the feelings she’d harbored for years, but decided against it. While she was certainly close enough with this young man she’d been schooled with, to talk about marriage would be a sore spot, as she was certain he’d become a far less desirable match upon losing the arm.

They caught up for a while, speaking of different incidents on their families’ farms only to learn that the occurrences sparking their stories probably weren’t as special as they’d once thought. As they spoke, more townsfolk filtered into the center. Her family would soon arrive, she was sure of it. She didn’t feel like speaking with them today, she was too tired, and she didn’t want to hear their demands that she wish for her father’s back to heal. Her wish was non-negotiable.

Paxton was called away by a voice in the crowd, and Mary Lou was left to wander the center, ultimately finding solace in the alleyway between the Elders’ living space and the general store. She leaned against a wall, then sank down to the grass. She examined the scene in the center. Over a hundred villagers had gathered now, some she hadn’t seen since last year’s Celebration due to age or infirmity. A light veil of dust had risen from all the feet on the dirt clearing. She watched it settle, only to be kicked up again. She was captivated by this cycle for some time. Mary-Lou’s concentration was broken by a gruff mail voice behind her. She turned her head, and was greeted by the sight of Mr. Matterson, the city manager.

Mr. Matterson was a kind man within the few conversations the two had shared, but everyone in town knew his penchant for order and practicality, properties which landed him his position in the first place. His beard was neatly trimmed, something few men of the village could say.

“Not wanting to enjoy the festivities, I see?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Matterson, I’m just a little nervous, that’s all,” she said.

“I understand, Mary-Lou. Believe it or not, I remember being nervous about my future when I was your age,” Matterson said. “But I’ll let you in on a secret: I think this whole thing is a sham. For some people, I think their wishes are granted by coincidence, and others grant their own wishes just by believing they’ll be granted in the first place.”

Mary-Lou’s gaze shifted downward. Mr. Matterson took the hint.

“Ah, that’s it, is it? Well, seeing as I’m responsible for your well being, young woman, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was her desire to finally speak her mind to someone, but Mary-Lou readily responded.

“Oh Mr. Matterson, I just can’t take this life anymore. I love to read all about adventures, and I’m sure I’ll never get to live my own if I stay on this path.”

Mr. Matterson was about to cut in, but Mary-Lou continued.

“My parents talk to me every day about finding me a husband. But I’m not so sure I want to marry a farmer. I don’t want to live the same life as my mother, and her mother before her. I’ve read all about the towns, no, the cities from far away, and I’m just so amazed. You wouldn’t believe the things they have over there. Did you know-”

“Alright, Mary-Lou,” Mr. Matterson interrupted. “Maybe a farm isn’t in your future. I understand that. You know, the O’Brien’s son is only a few years younger than you, and he’s to inherit his parent’s general store. In fact, it’s this store right here,” Mr. Matterson said as he patted a log making up part of the wall to his right. “And what’s more, as part of the business he goes into a big town up north once a month. I’m sure he’d take you with him to see it.”

Mary-Lou sighed. “I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Matterson. I really do. But I… I just don’t think my future is in this village, that’s all it is.”

Mr. Matterson’s expression changed, a stern expression overtook his face.

“I’m sorry to tell you that’s just not the case. This town functions properly for a reason, and that reason is because everyone is committed to expanding and improving it. We can’t do that if healthy young men and women like you want to up and leave. You’ve never left this place, have you?”

Mary-Lou shook her head.

“Well,” Mr. Matterson continued, “I have, many times as a matter of fact, and you wouldn’t believe what’s out there. Terrible people, people who will rob you blind and never look back. Creatures that’ll tear out your throat if you give them the chance. Bands of marauders armed to the teeth with whatever firepower they can purchase with their blood money. You don’t want any part of that.”

But maybe she did, Mary-Lou thought. Maybe she did.

After exchanging pleasantries, Mr. Matterson walked to the town center to start the proceedings. Mary-Lou remained seated for a moment, then walked toward the now large crowd. She kept her distance, she knew her chances of being chosen were slim at best.

Mr. Matterson began the proceedings. Mary-Lou couldn’t hear his words, but keenly watched the crowd’s reaction. They were still and silent in anticipation. He held up a small wooden box, and removed a scrap of paper. He shouted a name, and the crowd went silent. A figure was being pushed to the front. It was Paxton. Mary-Lou’s heart dropped for a moment, but she knew that Paxton deserved it more than anyone. Paxton entered the Elders’ lodgings, and Mr. Matterson read the next name. The crowd seemed to murmur, disappointment spreading. No one came forward to receive their prize. Mary-Lou’s heart fluttered for a moment. Her mind entertained all her hopes, dreams, and fantasies at once. A boy ran away from the crowd toward the southern section of town, right at Mary-Lou. He passed her without saying a word. He turned to shout back to the crowd.

“I’ll go tell him! I’ll see if he can come down here!”

Mary-Lou’s heart dropped, but this time to her stomach. She knew she wouldn’t be picked. It happened this way every year. She felt like an idiot. The same every time, and yet she still allowed herself to get excited enough to be dismayed when the inevitable passed. Yet still, she started rehearsing her wish in her head.

I wish for a gallant adventurer to take me away from this place, she thought repeatedly.

Mr. Matterson was reaching for the third name. He read it. Groans filled the crowd, and an old woman hobbled up to the front. Everyone in the crowd shared Mary-Lou’s opinion that such wishes would be wasted on the elderly.

Mary-Lou felt a sob bubbling up. She fought it as best as she could, but soon it won the battle, and tears were streaming down her face. She ran away from the town center, running between some of the homes and shops stationed nearby. She’d let no one see her cry. She was too old to be getting her hopes up, after all. She dropped to her knees and cried for some time. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a half hour. She was stopped by Paxton’s voice.

“Mary-Lou? What’s wrong?”

She attempted to speak through her erratic breathing.

“Oh Paxton, I… I just thought this would be the time for me, you know?”

She gave up her sense of shame and looked up at Paxton, half-expecting to see a newly formed second arm. But the space where his arm used to be was still empty.

“W-what happened with the Elder? What did she tell you?”

“Oh, she did her whole song and dance to the gods, but I’ll tell you, I’m certain it’s all fake now. You should have heard what she told me. She said that the gods were listening to someone else while she was trying to summon them. She told me they might not hear me, and apologized. She said it had never happened before, and she asked me not to tell anyone else. Well damn it to hell, that’s what I say to that.”

Paxton finished his monologue by lightly stamping the ground. Some of the produced dust fell onto Mary-Lou’s face, but she was too focused on what Paxton had just said to notice.

“Could they, could they have heard me?” Mary-Lou’s eyes were locked on Paxton’s.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean,” Paxton said, confused. “But hey, your parents are looking for you, they said if I found you I should send you to the festival. They want to introduce you to someone. I’m headed there myself if you’d like to join me.”

Mary-Lou’s mind was snapped back to reality. Of course, her parents. While the gods of the dell were probably fake, her parents and their wishes were perfectly real, and would soon be enacted upon her. She suddenly hated everyone and everything, including her parents for asking Paxton of all people to deliver the message.

She ran away, running until the pain inside her dulled. She didn’t know how long she’d run, but now she was by the lumberer’s homes on the outskirts of town. She looked back to where she’d run from and saw a pillar of smoke. The bonfire was as big as ever this year, and she could hear music emanating even though she was so far away. Mary-Lou wanted nothing to do with that festival.

She turned back to the homes and noticed an unfamiliar covered wagon being pulled by two horses. She knew it was foreign as the horses were too large and battle-worn for this town, sporting a collection of scars. The emptiness within her was filled with curiosity. She investigated the cabin across from the wagon. She snuck around the side of the home, and peeked through a window. She dropped away from the window, back to the wall. She’d seen a man inside. A man with flowing brown hair, a gun on his hip, and a shaped leather bag in his right hand. She tried to sneak away, fear engulfing her. She’d only seen a gun held by friends and townsfolk. It was significantly scarier on a stranger, she decided.

She crept back to the front of the house, and saw the man leave the logger’s home. He lifted the canvas on the back of his wagon and disappeared into it. Mary-Lou guessed he was storing whatever he’d put in that bag. She stayed crouched and ducked back behind the corner of the cabin. She held her eyes closed as tightly as she could, and shortly became aware of the fact that her heart was trying to escape her body.

What felt like an eternity passed.

“Excuse me, miss, what might you be doing in a place like this?”

Mary-Lou opened her eyes to the sight of the stranger. He seemed to loom before her, although there was nothing threatening about his stance. He reached a hand forward slowly.

“Could I help you up?”

Mary-Lou tried to nod her head slowly and calmly, but when she reached her hand out, she found that it was shaking fervently. The man stepped back after helping her up.

“Now, miss,” he said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I’d really like it if you answered me honestly, alright? I have a knack for knowing when someone’s lying to me. I don’t mean you any harm, I promise, but I need you to answer me.”

Mary-Lou was about to cry once again. She wasn’t sure she had any tears left, but the sobs were coming back. This time from fear rather than heartbreak.

“I’d like you to tell me if you saw me in that cabin. And I’d like you to tell me what you saw.”

Mary-Lou audibly gulped. She told the truth, never considering any other option. She told the stranger that she’d seen him in the home, then had ducked away from the window.

“And that’s all you saw?”

“Yes sir.”

The man seemed to ponder something, but Mary-Lou’s mind was racing as fast as it ever had. Unbeknownst to the stranger, emotions were bubbling within the woman in front of him. She was thinking about the wish she’d made. She was thinking about the fact that she’d never seen a stranger in town before, and she was thinking that this one seemed awfully dangerous. She asked a question.

“Are you… are you planning to leave this place?”

The question snapped him out of his train of thought.

“Yes, I may have some more business to conduct but I’ll be leaving.”

Now that she’d gathered the courage to look the man in his eyes, Mary-Lou was becoming entranced by them. They seemed to sparkle, and filled her with a strange melancholic sensation.

“Could you take me with you?” Mary-Lou asked. She didn’t know where the question had come from, but didn’t dispute its authenticity. She’d meant it.

“And why might you want to come with me?”

For the second time that day, Mary-Lou revealed her soul to another. She told the man about her dream to leave this place, she told him about how terrible her future would be if she didn’t leave this place, she told him that she didn’t think she could do it alone. She hesitated, then told the stranger that if she didn’t leave this place today, she’d kill her dream. She’d suppress it and punish such thoughts until she could accept the life of a woman in the village. She didn’t know how the man would react to this, but she didn’t much care.

The man raised a hand to the stubble on his face, rubbing his jawline from ear to chin. He thought for a time, then responded.

“You haven’t even told me your name, but you’ve told me your deepest wish. I think you’re a strange girl, you know that?”

Mary-Lou nodded.

“You know,” he continued, “I know just how you feel. I felt that way myself for a while. That’s why I steal. That’s why I take from communities with too many resources. The communities who make people like you unhappy. Are you alright with that? The way I make my living? Could you truly come to accept it?”

“I…” Mary-Lou trailed off. “I think I could. I think I’m accepting the idea more and more, even now. So what do you say? Can I come with you, wherever you’re going?”

“I didn’t think I’d be the type to be swayed by someone like you, but dammit, I can’t tell you to stay in a place like this. You can come with me.”

Mary-Lou’s lips stretched upwards in excitement.

“So when do we leave? I’m ready to go now, you know,” Mary-Lou said.

“I have to finish my business here, that business being a good old fashioned robbery. Why don’t you come help me, and when we’re done, I can promise you we’ll be racing out of here.”

“Like Zeus’s chariot?”

The man crumpled his nose. “I can’t say I know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll explain it on the way out,” she said.

And thus, their unlikely partnership was formed. The stranger had Mary-Lou keep watch outside the homes while he went in to rob them, but no one ever came. He told Mary-Lou that he’d scouted this location for the last three years. He knew that everyone went in to town to celebrate this time every year. It was a thief’s dream.

After the fourth house, Mary-Lou asked the man what he was stealing, and if it would harm the townsfolk. He told her that this town produced a specific resource very efficiently, and it wouldn’t hurt anyone to take from a community with too much. He said he’d heard that the way the town produced it was even causing some townsfolk some harm. Mary-Lou tried asking exactly what he was stealing, but the man said she’d have to wait and see. They continued robbing home after home, each time the man leaving with his shaped leather bag, depositing the contents into the wagon, then continuing on.

After fifteen or twenty some homes, the man said they’d be leaving soon. They’d been lucky, most of the homes had what he was looking for. Mary-Lou asked him about the money involved, and he told her they’d have enough to travel the world wherever they pleased, enough to find plenty of new adventures. Mary-Lou really liked the sound of that.

Eventually, the man exited the wagon with a smile on his face.

“Mary-Lou, it’s time for us to get out of here. I hope your time as a robber’s been plenty exciting, because we’re putting this life behind us.

Happiness coming over her, Mary Lou ran to the stranger and embraced him, planting her head in his shoulder. The man returned the gesture, and they stayed that way for some time before releasing each other. The stranger told her to hop onto the wagon, and they were off. After a few minutes of riding, the man asked her if she was hungry. Considering she hadn’t eaten since the night before, Mary-Lou told him she was.

They pulled over with the town still in sight, and the man found some smoked jerky, a few apples, and some milk in his wagon. They ate their meal and subsequently passed out, the warmth of the sun over the veil of leaves above them was too pleasant to resist.

Mary-Lou woke up to an unfamiliar voice. Groggily, she wiped her eyes, and once they finally focused she saw an older man pointing a revolver at the stranger. Her new friend was on his knees with his hands held high, the gun just inches away from his nose. The man was yelling about something, pointing to the wagon excitedly, his face red with rage. Mary-Lou vaguely recognized him from the town, but didn’t know his name.

Mary-Lou yelled toward the older man, begging him to stop. It was just like a man from her town to threaten an outsider. He would never understand why they’d stolen, he’d never understand that the man on the other side of the barrel of the gun had hopes and dreams just like her. That town was where dreams died, and this was simply an expression of it.

The older man looked towards Mary-Lou and shouted something, and that was all the time the stranger needed to act. He gracefully sprung to his feet, grabbed the gun, and kicked the other man hard in the knee. The older man fell to the ground, releasing the revolver in pain. The stranger looked toward the girl.

“Mary-Lou, look away now.”

In a state of shock, Mary-Lou did exactly what she was told. She heard the gunshot ring through the air, then felt the pull of the stranger’s hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, we need to move, now. They’re trying to destroy what we’re building, it’s now or never,” he said.

Mary-Lou obliged. She climbed up to the front of the wagon, and the man ran around to the driver’s seat. He handed Mary-Lou a pistol he produced from under his seat.

“If anyone tries to hurt you, don’t hesitate. You just point and squeeze the trigger, alright darling?”

Mary-Lou nodded. She vaguely heard some commotion behind her. She looked behind the wagon and saw a group of townsfolk chasing after them on foot, likely thirty seconds away. Their shouts were of anguish. Were they trying to rescue her, or did they just want to maintain order? This confused Mary-Lou. She heard a strange noise come from the back of the wagon, but it soon stopped. Before she could ask the stranger about it, they were off. The wagon was building speed.

“They’ll never catch us,” the man said, “they don’t have a chance in hell.”

They rode like this for a few minutes, and once they’d put some distance between them and the mob behind them, Mary-Lou felt like she was finally able to breathe.

The stranger placed his hand to the sun.

“Seems like we’re about six or seven hours to sundown,” he said. “We took a bit of a detour from where we’re trying to go, I didn’t want them to follow us. Damn, it might wear off soon.”

Mary-Lou wasn’t sure if the man was talking to her or himself. He seemed distant to her, his eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular. Suddenly, he snapped out of it, and looked at Mary-Lou.

“Hey, you remember why we’re doing this, right?”

Mary-Lou nodded.

“And you know if we do this, we go live the life we’ve both dreamed of,” he said. It wasn’t a question as much as a statement for which he sought affirmation.

“Yes, I know that,” Mary-Lou said.

“Well, alright then. We may be able to make it by nightfall. We trade this wagon for a sack of cash and fresh horses, and we leave this place,” the stranger said.

He was about to continue when Mary-Lou heard another noise coming from the wagon. She wasn’t sure what it was, it sounded almost alien to her. She started to wonder exactly what her town was hiding. And yet, there was a familiar quality to it, she just couldn’t place it. The sound stopped once again.

Mary-Lou turned to the stranger. She’d just realized she hadn’t even asked him his name yet. Just as she opened her mouth, he cursed under his breath. Mary-Lou looked back at the road. Riding toward them were two men, both sporting gleaming silver stars. Mary-Lou didn’t understand the stranger’s dismay.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Those men…” he started, “Just let me do the talking here, alright? Please, don’t speak unless you must. I’ll get us out of this, but it might not be easy.”

He looked at Mary-Lou and cast a reassuring smile toward her, then shifted his gaze downward and noticed she was still holding the gun. Startled, he took it from her and hid it back under his seat. The men on the horses were upon them now. The stranger and the rider on the left exchanged smiles.

Mary-Lou hadn’t noticed when he’d done it, but the stranger was gripping her hand with his own. As the men on the horses passed, the grip tightened, then released once they’d cleared the wagon. Another noise sounded from the wagon, and Mary-Lou heard the horses behind them stop moving. The riders turned around and rode back even with the stranger, one on each side of the wagon. The rider near the stranger cleared his throat.

“Excuse me sir, would you mind pulling over for a moment?”

The stranger’s grip on Mary-Lou’s hand was painful now.

“Well,” he said, “I would, but my wagon is holding sensitive cargo. My boss told me to let no one see it under any circumstances.”

The rider was unphased. “Sir, I’ll ask you again to pull over. I’m not too keen on asking a third time. I’m asking you with the power given to me as a deputy of this county. Do you understand that?”

“I-I-” the stranger stammered. His palm started sweating. “I’m afraid I can’t do that sir, I work for a powerful man, you see?”

He released Mary-Lou’s hand, and began to slowly reach under his seat. He glanced at the rider on the other side as he did so.

“I have the paperwork, if you’re worried about that. I can show you the manifesto if it gets you gentleman on your way.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a start. Let’s see it then,” the deputy said.

The deputy reached out toward the wagon, and the stranger continued to rummage

around under his seat. He turned to Mary-Lou, and spoke so softly she thought it could have been the wind speaking to her.

“When I lift my hand from under the wagon, you need to duck.”

The stranger searched for another couple seconds, then found what he was looking for.

“Sirs, I think you’ll find this satisfactory,” the stranger said as he raised the pistol from under his seat with his right arm, and unholstered the revolver in his left. Before the deputies had a chance to react, he’d planted a bullet in the head of the rider on the left. Then, flipping his head, he shot the other man just as Mary-Lou ducked under the barrel of the gun. Mary-Lou didn’t see the bullet connect, but she heard a now familiar sound of metal embedding itself in flesh, then heard a body hit the dirt path.

Mary-Lou was shell shocked. She couldn’t find the courage to lift her head, much less to speak. She expected a comforting gesture from the stranger, but he now had hold of the reigns, increasing the speed of the wagon. They raced down the road for a few minutes, then he relaxed his speed. The two didn’t speak again for the rest of their ride.

As the sun was setting, the stranger veered off the main path, taking the wagon through some tall trees and into a grassy clearing. A man with a similar covered wagon was waiting there. He was older, his hair readily receding and his teeth all but rotted. A few saddled horses grazed in the field, Mary-Lou assumed they were what the stranger had mentioned earlier. The setting sun cast shadows which seemed to loom throughout the clearing, the sky seemed to burn a shade of orange above them.

“Hey, Mary-Lou? Why don’t you let me do the talking again, got it? Don’t worry, this is the man who’s giving us the money and horses, just like I told you. We’ll be living our new life soon enough, I promise.”

The stranger planted a kiss on Mary-Lou’s forehead, then stepped down from the wagon to approach the other man. They conversed for a moment, but Mary-Lou couldn’t quite make out what she was hearing. She thought she heard the phrases “more than I thought” and “don’t worry about her.” She became nervous, but she calmed down once she saw the two share a friendly handshake. The stranger waved Mary-Lou over from the wagon, and the older man went over to inspect its contents.

“My darling, today marks the first day of our new lives. Our man here came through just like I thought he would,” the stranger said. He pointed to the horses. “See those fine horses over there? Their saddles are full of gold, gold that we can exchange for as much cash as we can carry once we get into town. Then, I don’t know, we get a boat anywhere we want!”

Mary-Lou didn’t know what to say. She thought that even if she knew what she was feeling right now, she wouldn’t be able to express it through language. The only word that came to mind was unsettled. Was this really what I wanted? More questions swirled through her mind, and she was more than willing to let the stranger lead her by the hand while she sorted them out.

They mounted their horses, and like the stranger had said, the saddle bags held bars of solid gold. The stranger reached his hand toward her, and she took it, their horses cantering aside one another.

The sun fell below the mountains to the west, Mary-Lou noticed as they passed the wagon one last time. The noise came once again, but louder than ever. No, she thought, it must be more than one noise. She wouldn’t even try to figure out this mystery, she was content to leave this place and never look back. But as they rode through the trees, realization flooded through Mary-Lou, and she became pale in the waning sunlight.

The sound she’d heard hadn’t been from wild animals. It hadn’t been alien. It hadn’t been the clink of disarrayed coins, nor had it been the sizzling of a strange reaction. Mary-Lou thought she might fall off her horse. The sounds which had emanated from that wagon were surely the muffled cries of babies. The sorts of cries which would only be resolved by the gentle touch of the mothers they’d never again see. Into the sunset they rode.

submitted by /u/ToTheTableGaming [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3e2z9hv

[calorieworkouts]

Winning the race

Rick as well as Prick Hoyt's story of love and also perseverance illustrates the electrical power of a never-give-up attitude.

A life full of challenges for Prick and Rick Hoyt has actually transformed right into a message of commitment as well as determination built on a dads love for his son.

Long before the inspiring photo of his father, Penis, pressing him via a roadway race in his mobility device became recognized to millions worldwide, Rick Hoyt's life started with a struggle.

On that January day in 1962, Ricks umbilical cord wrapped around his neck at birth, denying his mind of oxygen. Doctors diagnosed him as a paralytic with spastic paralysis who would locate it impossible to ever live a regular life. 'The tests returned and also they were really unfavorable,' Dick states. 'They stated neglect Rick, placed him away in an organization. He's visiting be only a veggie for the remainder of his life.' Currently 51 years later on, Penis can only chuckle at that diagnosis. Life had far more available for Rick.

While acceptance of the handicapped was a lot less usual during that time, the Hoyt's agreed that every effort would be made to elevate Rick like other kid in their North Reading, Mass., neighborhood. Although he couldn't speak or walk, Ricks eyes shone as they followed his moms and dads everywhere. Day-to-day tasks like sledding, swimming, discovering numbers and the alphabet were made a part of his routine, but obtaining him into institution proved to be a severe challenge. 'That was quite challenging due to the fact that everybody claimed 'no, he doesn't recognize, he wont be able to find out," Cock spokens. 'We could possibly inform by looking in his eyes that he understood everything we were saying.'

With no means for Rick to communicate, a conference in 1972 with a cynical group of technicians at Tufts University outside Boston brought proof of his intelligence after a random joke made him fracture up laughing. They concurred to build him an interaction device for $5,000 an interactive computer that allowed Rick to select highlighted letters with a faucet of his head. His initial words after returning house were 'Go Bruins!' in assistance of the Boston hockey team that was making a run at the Stanley Mug. A love of sports as well as competitors would quickly come to be an indelible component of the Hoyt's lives.

Finally accepted into public college in 1975 at the age of 13, Rick revealed to his papa two years later that he wished to take part in a five-mile go to profit a lacrosse player that had been paralyzed in an accident. After that a leader airborne National Guard, Dick had no running background past armed forces boot camp. Exactly what he did have was an innate desire to do things by hand, found out while cutting wood with his nine siblings as a kid in order to help warmth a household home that at one point had no running water or indoor restroom. Conquering his very own doubts and also a lack of comprehending from the racing area, Penis pressed Ricks clumsy mobility device via the whole race, finishing next to last. His pains and discomforts dissolved when Rick typed out the message, 'Dad, when I'm running, it seems like I'm not burdened.' Dad and boy were connected Team Hoyt had actually become a reality.

Next came their very first official road race, a 10K where they likewise debuted a tailor-made mobility device crafted with light-weight tubes, a molded seat as well as customized tires. Team Hoyt completed in advance of half the 300 entrants that day, and from then on, the feeling of sacrifice produced by the intense bond in between both increased with each weekend of racing. Doubters were likewise able to see Ricks real character surface. 'He just enjoyed to be in the center of the runners - always had a huge smile on his confront with his hands up in the air,' Dick says.

Despite their expanding success as well as prestige, Dicks intentions were still questioned by many, yet the internal motivation that he really felt from Rick never ever fluctuated. 'When we initially started, I made use of to obtain a great deal of letters and phone telephone calls from various other family members with disabled individuals, and they were distressed at me,' he recalls. 'They said, 'Exactly what are you doing dragging your disabled kid through all these races? Youre simply looking for glory on your own.' Exactly what they really did not understand was that Rick was the one dragging me to these races.'

Team Hoyt's focus decided on the Boston Marathon in 1981, yet after being compelled to race unofficially for 2 years, an amazing qualifying time of 2:45.23 at the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C., obtained them confessed to the 1983 race. They have since come to be the face of the Boston Marathon. A life-size bronze statuary of Group Hoyt was introduced prior to this years race, merely backyards from the starting line. Considering that those early battles for approval, Group Hoyt has actually finished more compared to 1,000 distance races and also triathlons that include six Ironman competitions. They additionally biked and encountered America in 1992, covering 3,735 miles from L.a to Boston in 45 consecutive days.

During that time, Rick accomplished an additional astonishing milestone, finishing from Boston College in 1993 after standing firm for nine years to earn his degree in special education and learning. Dick offered his country for 37 years before retiring in 1995 as a Lt. Colonel from the Air National Guard. His 5 day- a-week exercise schedule did even more than prepare him for every weekends grueling races: Complying with a 2003 cardiac arrest brought on by substantial artery clog, Dicks medical professional notified him that he would have passed away 15 years earlier without the regimen that has actually kept him in race-worthy condition. Extremely, Cock as well as Rick have actually had the ability to provide each various other brand-new life.

Today, Dick speaks proudly of Team Hoyt's stories of inspiration throughout the years, from the girl who called looking for hope prior to running transformed her life around, to the tales of compound abuse from people who were affected to tidy up their lives by the Hoyt's motivating tasks. The Hoyt Foundation was also developed in 1989 with the goal of aiding Americas impaired young people incorporate into society as well as take up endurance events, equally as Rick had the ability to with the aid of his family members, it now has 20 chapters around the world.

So whats next? Even as the Hoyt's age, they have no collection plans to retire from racing, other than preparing their last Boston Marathon in 2014 as a tribute to this years bomb sufferers. And with millions still being influenced by their feats, why would certainly they? Team Hoyt still has individuals entrusted to touch. 'When we first started, no person truly desired anything to do with us,' Prick claims. 'Our message became 'Yes You Can!' That has actually always been our adage with Rick. There isn't really anything you can't do as long as you comprise your mind to do it.'