#its about finding where your broken edges fit with theirs to make something new and beautiful

[bosspigeon]

Did not mean to craft Literally The Perfect Man for Astarion I just made a demisexual dude with a complex relationship with sex and intimacy due to trauma bc it is my God-Given Right to cram my own issues into an oc and then the vampire twink just happened to have issues to match and anyway what was i talking about

[httplilyyy]

𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 || 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: after a gruelling game against real madrid all feelings are put onto the table, does it lead you to being heart broken or someone else’s? - the alternate ending to part three

warnings: angst and fluff

word count: 3.2k

a/n: its pretty much the same as the part three but i've changed a couple of parts to fit the story better. you can either read this version or the other- or both! :)

woso masterlist | alternative end

“The person you are calling is unable to take your call right now, please leave a message after the tone.”

Six times. That's how many times Leah had tried to call you. Yet, you still didn't pick up.

With every time Leah called you she had a little hope in her that you would pick up, but it soon shattered when it went through to voicemail.

“Pick up, please.” Leah whispered, her voice cracking as she sat on the edge of her bed. “Just pick up.”

Fiddling with your ring on her finger Leah decided to call you one last time.

Leg bouncing up and down in anticipation, Leah bit the nail on her thumb waiting, hoping, or anything in between for her to hear your voice.

As the phone rang the likelihood of you picking up got slimmer and slimmer. Leah ultimately decided to end the call, completely unaware that you were contemplating on the other end, finger hovering over the button to accept.

Letting out a long sigh, one full of many emotions, Leah couldn’t stop the feeling of her bottom lip quivering along with the tears pooling up in her eyes.

Finally letting the emotions get the better of her, she soon broke down once again. This time taking longer to compose herself.

With trembling hands, Leah picked up the letter beside her and read it once again.

Leah,

I’ve known you for five years and lived with you for three, each one of those years, minutes and seconds have been the best of my life. But I can't be friends with you. I can't be just friends with you.

I like all the little things about you, I like the way you make me feel, I like your smile, laugh, everything. I like you. Nothing in this world can stop me from liking you.

You might be wondering where all my things have gone and it's because I got sent a transfer, one from Barcelona. I took it. I couldn't turn it down.

Well at first, I didn't really want to take the offer. That was until I saw you and jordan. I just couldn't handle the heartbreak knowing that Jordan was the one who got to hold you, kiss you, be the one to call you theirs.

I was going to tell you, you know. I had it all planned out, it wasn't anything extravagant, just a little something.

I’m sorry I didn't tell you about my feelings and about the transfer. I was going to, it's just that life got in the way. I don’t want it to be real. I don't want to leave, not really. Not without you.

I’m sorry that I couldn't tell you face to face, I just felt like a text would be a shitty way to say goodbye. It’s not really a goodbye, though, more like a see you later.

And even if we did have a chance to be together, maybe it was just not meant to be.

It had been three weeks since you had left London and moved to Barcelona. You managed to fit in with the team really well and you were happy to call this new place your home.

Lucy and Keria were there to help you find your feet and get to know everything going on in the catalonian city.

You had grown close with all the girls and more specifically someone in particular. The two of you were seen almost everywhere together. Neither of you were seen without the other during training or even team bonding.

The team started speculating and eventually the fans did too, but it was always the same answer. No, you're not dating. How could you? Not after Leah.

“Here come the love birds.” Mapi joked as you walked into training with Alexia by your side.

“Very funny.” Alexia deadpanned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to her. “Y/n can only dream.”

“Yeah right.” You chuckled, pushing away from the midfielder slightly.

“Come on you two.” Lucy smiled as she walked in between you and alexia, placing her arms around either of your shoulders and walking the two of you out and onto the pitch for training.

“Leave them alone Maps.” Ingrid said as she walked behind you, Lucy and Alexia.

“But-”

“You can tease them later.”

“Fine.” Mapi reluctantly huffed as she walked to training as well.

Training was fairly easy, a couple simple drills and it went by in a flash. The rest of the girls went back to the locker room to get changed whilst you stayed out to do some shooting drills.

After sinking another ball into the net, you heard someone walk up behind you. They didn't say anything at first, just watching as you pelted balls at the goal.

“You’ll end up making a hole in the net, if you keep kicking that hard.” The voice said from behind you. Alexia’s voice.

“That's a shame.” You said, not really caring.

“Alright, what's up with you?” She asked, coming to step in front of you, stopping you from kicking another ball.

“Nothing.” You muttered, trying to get out of Alexia's intense stare, manoeuvring around her.

“It's obviously not nothing.”

“Just drop it.”

“Does it have something to do with the person who always calls you?”

“I said drop it.” You huffed, kicking another ball.

“I want to help you.”

“Ale, just drop it, please.” You said, your voice sounding so drained.

“Want me to set you up?” Alexia asked softly, getting that you don't want to talk about the topic.

“Yeah,” you replied with a smile, “if you don't mind.”

“Not at all.”

The two of you continued to pass and shoot for a couple of hours, laughing, making jokes and having fun till your heart's content.

Once you both decided to finally stop, you sat by the side of the pitch, waters in hand, trying to cool down.

The two of you continued to converse, not caring how late it was getting or how long you were sitting beside each other.

You were laughing at something Alexia said when a call interrupted the two of you. Pulling your phone from your pocket you saw Leah’s name pop up on your screen.

Sighing, you chucked your phone in between you and Alexia. Bad idea. The woman beside you picked up your phone and answered the call just before it was going to end.

“Y/n?” Leah’s voice questioned on the other end. “Oh my god…”

As Leah asked multiple questions at a million miles an hour, you tried to get your phone off the woman beside you.

Alexia was quick to jump up and avoid your advances, trying to dodge your hand desperately grabbing for your phone.

“... I read your letter and I-”

“This isn’t y/n.” Alexia answered before you could stop her.

“And I- wait what?”

“Look, you’ve gotta stop calling her.”

“Ale, stop.” You pleaded but Alexia shook her head.

“What? Why?” Leah asked.

“If someone doesn’t answer your calls that means they don't want to talk to you.”

“Ale-” You said once again.

“No, y/n-”

Before Alexia could talk any more, you took your phone back out of her hand and walked away from her but not before giving a look that said ‘you're in deep shit’.

“Leah.” You said, placing your phone by your ear.

“Y/n?” Leah replied, her voice sounding so relieved but still unable to believe she was finally able to hear your voice after many weeks.

“Hey.”

“Do they mean it?”

“Mean what?” You asked, looking back at Alexia noticing how she fiddled with her fingers.

“What they said, about you not wanting to talk to me?”

“It's not like that its-”

“I get it, it's fine.”

“No leah-”

“Just tell me, did you mean it? What you wrote in the letter did you mean it?”

“Of course I did.” You said softly.

“Then why did you leave? We could have figured it out, I thought we were a team, I thought- I-” By this point, Leah had let her emotions take over, you could practically hear the tears in her voice.

That's when you broke down. Hearing leah cry made you start, lip quivering, eyes watering, legs trembling, heart rate increasing you finally let it all out.

“Leah, I have to go.” You sniffled.

“No, y/n you just picked up, i’m not letting you go now.”

“Leah, please, I'm sorry.”

“Y/n-” Leah’s desperate plea was the last you heard before you ended the call.

Your head fell down as you looked at the phone in your hand, tears falling down your face as you tried to wipe them away but it was no use.

Alexia cautiously stepped in front of you, hands cradling your face as the pads of her thumbs wiped away your tears.

You were in some sort of trance, your mind focused on how you needed to hear Leah's voice again, to feel her touch again.

“Why did you do that?” You asked quietly, stepping out of Alexia’s hold.

“I thought that-”

“No, you didn’t think.” You said, stepping back every time Alexia tried to get closer to you

“Lo siento.”

“You can’t just do things like that.”

“I didn’t realise.” Alexia said. “I was just trying to be a good friend.”

“I know.” You sighed. “Just please don’t do something like that again.”

“I won't, I promise, I'm sorry.”

“Okay,” you smiled, “crossbar challenge?”

“You're on, y/l/n.”

“You’re going down, Putellas.”

The team had noticed a change in your style of play, you were more ruthless, uncaring, violent but you had a new fire in you, one that was determined and hungry.

You didn't care if you got a yellow, as long as it helped you and the team it didn't matter. Some would say you're playing a dangerous game, but that was a risk you were willing to take.

Within the new found fire, you played more minutes, scored more goals, made more passes, tackles and assists. You were on your way to becoming an all time great but there was one thing setting you back.

More like someone setting you back.

It was finally one of the biggest games of the year, an El Clasico. Barcelona vs Real Madrid. It was just as important as it is in the men's game, each side wanting to take victory over the other.

“You alright?” Lucy asked as she came up beside you, noticing that you were staring at your locker.

“Yeah, you?”

“I feel like you’re not telling me something but I'll drop it for now.”

“Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

“I want you to score today.” Lucy nudged you.

“I’ll try.” You chuckled.

You had played a couple of games for barca but this was the first one where you were in the starting lineup.

You stood behind Mapi as both teams lined up, determination displayed across everyone's faces.

Walking out onto the pitch you looked around the stadium, a sense of pride filled you up.

The seats flooded with barca shirts, each and every one of them giving you that extra confidence boost fueling you up for the game.

When the ref blew her whistle you kicked off the game. Each team put in their maximum effort from the start.

It was around the fourteenth minute when you had a shot on goal. Pina had sent a lovely weighted ball to your feet and you were through on goal.

You heard two defenders gaining on you as well as their keeper coming off their line.

With each player getting closer and closer you decided to try your luck and chip the keeper.

You watched as the ball soared through the air and landed just beneath the bar, a small clinking sound could be heard before the stadium erupted into cheers.

The ball had bounced off the bar and into the net. You felt someone jump onto your back, screaming in your ear. A couple of other girls came and congratulated you before you had to get back into your positions.

You soon found out that Alexia was the one who jumped on your back. Sending her a small smile before Madrid kicked off the game once again.

Half time soon arrived and Barca had managed to keep the one-nil lead. Walking back into the locker room, the girls patted you on your back as they walked past.

Everyone sat down and listened to the half-time talk, seeing where they could improve as well as noting down some of Madrid's tactics.

Each person in the room was determined to hold onto the lead and Barcelona was clearly not going down without a fight.

The second half was much more gruelling, Madrid definitely placed a target or two on your back. You played the ball as if it was a hot potato. Making sure not to hold it for longer than three seconds as you knew a Madrid player would soon be coming for your ankles.

At the eighty-third minute you had managed to find space a little to the right, making a run down the wing. You were inside the box when you found the perfect opportunity to cross the ball in.

Just as the ball left your foot you felt a pair of studs collide with your ankle, sending you tumbling to the ground.

Your hand immediately clutched your foot, and a pained groan ripped from your throat. With one hand on your ankle you hid your head in the other.

You could hear your teammates fighting and shouting around you but your mind was only focused on one person in particular, kneeling beside you.

“Hey, y/n?” Alexia asked softly. “Can you look at me?”

Rolling onto your back, you turned your head to the right and you saw Alexia’s worried face scan over your body.

“Hola.” You smiled.

“Y/n.” Alexia said, her voice sounded stern.

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me you’re not faking an injury.”

“No.” You said dragging out the ‘o’. “Definitely not. Nope.”

“Y/n.”

“Okay, maybe I am but it does actually hurt.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Help me up?” You chuckled once you saw Alexia’s disappointed face. You knew she wasn’t really disappointed, seeing as she tried to hide her smirk.

“You’re lucky we scored.”

“Uh huh, you just have a soft spot for me.”

“Get back into position.” Alexia said, shaking her head trying to hide her smile.

The game soon came to an end and it was a two-nil win for Barcelona. You went around shaking the hands of Madrid players before going to speak to some fans.

You ended up giving your shirt to someone and after mass amounts of pictures and many things being signed you finally walked back towards the locker room.

“Hey, Putellas.” You smiled as you walked up behind her, wrapping your arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, y/l/n, how’s your ankle?” Alexia chuckled.

“It actually hurts, you know?” You said.

“Mhm, not sure if I believe you.”

“Alright, I'll speak to you in a bit. I just need to speak to a medic.”

“For your ankle?”

“I told you I actually hurt it.”

“Don’t die on the way there.” Alexia chuckled as she kissed your cheek before walking off.

“Y/n?” Someone asked from behind you.

You knew that voice.

“Leah?” You questioned as you came face to face with her after so many weeks.

“Hey.” She smiled softly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I read your letter.” Leah sniffled but tried to cover it up with a cough.

“Leah.” You whispered out, stepping closer to her.

“Um, who was that you were with?”

“I think you know who that is.” You chuckled, stepping a little closer so you were standing in front of Leah.

“Are you together?”

“Me and Alexia?” You questioned and Leah nodded her head. “Oh, no, yeah definitely not.”

“But she kissed your cheek?”

“That’s just how everyone acts around here.”

“So you're not together?”

“No.”

“Does that mean I can do this?”

“Do what?”

Leah didn't say anything, just put her hand around the base of your neck and brought your head towards hers so she could place her lips on yours.

The kiss started out slow, almost hesitant, but quickly began to build. Going from tender and languid to heated and fiery in a matter of seconds.

Grinning into the kiss, you placed your hands on Leah’s waist pulling her into you. As the two of you were pressed against each other, Leah moved her hands and wrapped them around your shoulders.

Whilst one hand rested on Leah’s waist the other sneaked up her shirt, touching the bare skin of her stomach. Your cold fingers in contrast to Leah’s warm stomach made her involuntary tense at the sensation.

Your hand moved from her stomach to her lower back, pushing her into you more. The kiss continued and your heart felt as if it was going at a hundred miles an hour.

The two of you slowly pulled away from one another. You looked at the woman still in your arms, lips bruised, hair dishevelled, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“That was- wow.” You chuckled.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?” Leah questioned, her hand still wrapped around your shoulders and playing with your hair.

“You were with Jordan and I didnt want to ruin that or whatever we had.”

“So you thought running was the best option?”

“Now thinking about it, not really.”

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“Mhm, I like you too.”

“You reckon we could make this work?” Leah questioned as she motioned between the two of you.

“Yeah, I thought I lost you once and I won't let that happen again.”

“I wish you didn’t move.”

“Hey, don't think like that.” You said softly, cradling Leah’s face in your hands. “I’m only a flight away.”

“Yeah.” Leah said quietly.

“You might even come play over here.” You suggested, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Absolutely not.” Leah chuckled.

“I thought as much.”

“I don’t leave for a couple of days…”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned with a smirk.

“Yeah, maybe you could show me around?”

“I can show you some other things too.” You joked earning a smack to your chest.

“Y/n!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender.

“I know.”

“Could I have that?” You asked, pointing to the letter you wrote that was still in Leah’s hand.

“Yeah?” Leah said, passing it to you. “Why?”

“I lied.” You shrugged, pointing to the last line. “We are meant to be.”

Leah felt a massive smile take over her features and she brought you into another kiss, it was a lot shorter than the one you had before but it was just as good.

“I guess you want this back too?” Leah questioned, holding up her hand showing your ring that was on her finger.

“You’re wearing it?”

“I haven’t taken it off.” Leah smiled.

“It suits you.”

“Yeah?” Leah asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well I brought it for you, so…” Leah said as she slipped the band off her finger and placed it in your hand. “You should wear it.”

You took the ring from your hand and placed it on your finger, smiling at the woman in front of you.

“I really like you.” You said quietly it almost came out as a whisper.

“I really like you too, so much more than you can imagine.”

“We’re meant to be.” You smiled, crumpling up the letter.

“We’re meant to be.”

[dreaminghour]

Star Wars WLW Week Day 2

Fancy Dress Event! Leia and Amilyn sneak off from a New Republic gala to find a dark corner...

“Are you saying my dress is in bad taste?” Amilyn asked.

“You’re never in bad taste.” Leia laughed.

“Even when I wear our new enemy's colors from head to toe?”

“Toe?” Leia asked, and slipped out of Amilyn’s grasp to peer down at the shoe she peeked out of her gown. “Ah.” Leia leaned into Amilyn a little. “Well, the color looks very nice on you. You look like pale-pink flowers wrapped in red roses or… something.”

“Leia! That was almost romantic!” Amilyn gave her a little squeeze, and even in the dim blue light of the stars, she seemed to blush a little.

“What can I say.” Leia’s voice was like a whisper against her collarbone. “You inspire me.”

1774 words below the cut~

“Oh, thank goodness.”

Vice Admiral Holdo turned at the sound of a familiar voice. The sight of Leia wrapped in white silks was like something from an old family holo — if either of them had any of those left now.

“I knew as soon as I saw the hair match the drapery that it was you, Amilyn.”

“I think it’s ‘hair matches the drapes,’ General,” Amilyn said with a wink.

Leia pretended to swat at her.

“And Han?” Amilyn asked. She knew that Han did not like attending these swanning galas, self-congratulatory he called them, though he used cruder language. Amilyn saw them for what they were, shows of unity, appeals to the elite, fundraising.

These events were not his thing, they both knew that.

“It’s unlikely he’ll ever come to anything like this again,” Leia said, and there was something resigned there.

Amilyn thought she’d heard it before, the other times that Han had left for a while. This sounded different. She suspected she knew, having heard about the last few months with Luke and Ben… she could have asked, Leia would have told her, but this was supposedly a celebratory event and Amilyn had been drinking.

“More for us,” Amilyn said, passing a flute of sparkling wine to Leia.

Their toast was wordless, just the chime of glass against glass, and they both raised their glasses as they turned their back to the bar and surveyed the crowd milling around them.

Amilyn had always had a knack for patterns and seeing something more in the clouds and even the stars. She was a master navigator, but she was also an expert at seeing something beyond the facts. It wasn’t always worth mentioning, but it was usually interesting. And now, it wouldn’t take her expertise to see the way the crowd flowed in eddies which always dipped close to Leia, hopeful that she would pull them into her orbit, before gently moving on like leaves in a stream. Amilyn couldn’t sense the Force, or so she thought, but maybe all beings moved within its currents, regardless of whether they knew it was there.

Leia put her hand in Amilyn’s elbow.

“I hate these things. I’m glad the New Republic is feeling secure but…” Leia hesitated.

“Walk with me?” Amilyn asked, scoping out the nearest exit, curtained in dark blue velvet, hiding a cool, empty corridor beyond.

“Lead the way, dear,” Leia said.

Amilyn ducked her head slightly as she led Leia slowly across the floor, repeating some bit of news about the fleet which they’d already discussed, no serious security matter, but containing the right words so that people who were important, or wanted to feel important, knew they should leave the two women be.

“Bold move,” Leia said, as they passed from glittering ballroom into the fresh air of the arcade which surrounded their host’s mansion.

“What, stealing the belle of the ball?” Amilyn smiled, feeling the twinkle of wine, feeling the warmth of the woman beside her.

“No, the dress.” Leia placed her nearly full glass on one of the little candle-lit tables.

“What, is there something wrong?” Amilyn looked down at herself, spreading her arms, only seeing the narrow tuck of red fabric around her gangly legs, the way the cloth bunched on her hips and hung loose from her chest. She’d figured out as a young woman, over twenty years ago, that close-fitting but flexible was best for her. It was flattering enough, comfortable always, and allowed ease of movement — even at fancy dress events. She liked them better than Leia, but she tolerated them far better as well.

“No, your dress is lovely, you look lovely.” Leia reached up a hand to brush something off Amilyn’s shoulder, and then rested her hand there. “The color just reminded me…”

Amilyn knew immediately what she was talking about. “The upstarts on the edge of the galaxy?”

Leia pursed her lips.

“They’ve become emboldened recently,” Leia said. “I wish I knew why. Found another Force user, I suppose, corrupted him to dark ways…”

Amilyn cupped Leia’s cheek, tilting her face to look Amilyn in the eye. There was pain there, and Amilyn didn’t want someone so sweet to hurt anymore. She wanted her to smile.

“Are you saying my dress is in bad taste?” Amilyn asked.

“You’re never in bad taste.” Leia laughed.

“Even when I wear our new enemy's colors from head to toe?”

“Toe?” Leia asked, and slipped out of Amilyn’s grasp to peer down at the shoe she peeked out of her gown. “Ah.” Leia leaned into Amilyn a little. “Well, the color looks very nice on you. You look like pale-pink flowers wrapped in red roses or… something.”

“Leia! That was almost romantic!” Amilyn gave her a little squeeze, and even in the dim blue light of the stars, she seemed to blush a little.

“What can I say.” Leia’s voice was like a whisper against her collarbone. “You inspire me.”

“Leia…” Amilyn felt a chill steal across her bare shoulders, where Leia had been about to lay her head, or just lean against her, she pulled slightly away.

“Will you kiss me, Amilyn?”

She hesitated, only because the bubbliness that had accompanied her tipsiness had suddenly been snatched away, and she wasn’t entirely certain she had heard correctly. Leia’s hand on her waist tightened somewhat, pulling them closer again.

“I know I don’t have much of a right to ask, but I’d really like to have something nice for even a moment, if you could—”

With a feather touch, Amilyn tipped Leia’s chin up, brushing her thumb just under Leia’s bottom lip.

“Anything you ask that I can give you, my princess,” she said. It was painful, to be sure, to reference something old and broken, but it was honest. Alderaan might have been long gone, but it was theirs, and Leia would always be hers, even as she was Leia’s. She lowered her head slowly, feeling the pull of fabric as Leia tugged on her dress, pushing herself up and closer. She inhaled the smell of spices, cinnamon and nutmeg, an afterthought of vanilla, and tasted something bright as Leia opened her mouth under her lips.

Leia clung to her, because of the two of them, Leia was definitely the stronger. Leia was soft in her arms, and Amilyn couldn’t help but cradle her close, wishing she could pick her up and—

Leia broke off their kiss, her hands on Amilyn’s waist, pushing her a bit. “Why don’t you… sit.”

She led Amilyn to a little bench, shadowed from the party and the starlight, where the scent of the garden and the stream could wash over them, and for a heart-tripping moment, Amilyn thought Leia was going to climb into her lap. But instead Leia sat beside her, and threaded her fingers into the loose curls at the nape of her neck, and pulled her down for another kiss.

Amilyn laughed, gently nipping at Leia’s bottom lip before pulling back slightly, and Leia chased after the taste. Knees knocking against one another, Amilyn’s hand skirted over the smooth fabrics of Leia’s gown to cup the side of her bum, lifting her up in as chaste a manner as she could, and Leia laughed as well.

“Oh, I see,” Leia only sounded reticent, lifting her skirt slightly in order to straddle Amilyn’s legs and sit on her lap. “Always trying to get your way.”

Leia didn’t kiss her again right away, instead brushing her thumbs over Amilyn’s cheeks, making her eyes flutter shut as she drank in the sensations. Leia’s fingers on her neck, their thighs pressed close, Leia’s breath mingling with her own.

“What did I ever do to deserve such kindness?” Leia asked.

Fiercely, and half-instinctively, Amilyn reached for Leia’s wrists before she could pull away.

“You’ve always been good.” She knew her voice sounded darker, but emotions were fighting her for control, and she wanted to make sure Leia heard this. “You do what’s right, and people— I see that.” Amilyn did let one of Leia’s hands slip away from her skin, in order to turn her head and kiss the palm.

Leia made a little moan, sounding almost regretful, and slipped her other hand back into Amilyn’s hair. Amilyn gasped a little as Leia tugged lightly, and then their sounds were smothered in another kiss. Amilyn ran her hands over the curve of her back, pulling her closer, Leia’s breasts pressing against her. Her breath shuddered as she realized how much she’d wanted this, to keep her close, as she wondered if this might be it, at last, when she could have more than she’d previously dreamed.

Leia’s hand pressed lightly against Amilyn’s collabone, just a few inches above her breast, and Amilyn was sure Leia could feel her heart fluttering wildly. She pulled back, both of them breathing heavily, and Leia just looked at her for a moment, eyes so dark, they seemed lost, unable to focus.

“Do I deserve you?” Leia asked.

Amilyn tried to understand what was going on, afraid to break the spell of the moment, where Leia was in her arms, where there was a spark of pleasure, yearning to be more. She searched in dark eyes, knowing that Leia was watching her closely.

“I’m not the one—” Amilyn broke off as the scuff of shoes breaking from the party sounded closer.

“General?”

Leia sighed, already beginning to slip away, and in a pang of desperation, Amilyn scooped her arms around Leia again, pressing her mouth briefly but wildly against Leia’s.

“Everything,” Amilyn said with a sigh. “You deserve everything you want. Anything I can give…”

Leia’s hands floated across Amilyn’s shoulders as she rose to stand.

“General Organa?”

The sound of that voice seemed to slowly move forward, the crisp click of shoes on the polished stone floor chasing away the heat of their embrace.

“Will you accompany me back inside?” Leia asked, suddenly unable to look Amilyn in the eye, busying herself with straightening her dress.

“Always,” Amilyn replied, slipping her hand inside Leia’s. “Anywhere.” She stood as well and leaned down to press a kiss to Leia’s forehead, and let Leia lean against her for one second more before the lights would shine on them again, and chase the last vestiges of intimacy away.

“For as long as you need me,” Amilyn said.

“Thank you.” Leia placed her hand back in the crook of Amilyn’s elbow, and they followed the attaché back into the room filled with light and laughter, and so much less beautiful than their shaded bower under the stars.

[blankdblank]

Ridikulus Pt 38

Ready for the ride later in warm jeans and heeled boots a long maroon sweater was topped with a second short vest you walked down to breakfast with freshly woken Em who the Pears would be watching today. All around the table you found your family that set off small confetti charms and jostled you around in hugs and mild teases on the spur nuptials. Food however picked up the focus of your attention. Regulus and Lindir came down claiming their chairs with Regulus holding the jar in hand of the freshly rinsed Dwarf rings the night prior he dipped in Basilisk venom for you he passed to Hermione saying, “I guess you can give these back to the Durins when you drop by Fili’s today.”

She shifted the jar in her hand saying, “Well I’m actually only seeing Dis and Niro today, but they would be glad for them. Might not be glad to pass on there’s a new Elf Kingdom to add to the mix of allies.”

That had you chuckle, “Seemed to be empty aside from animals but it’s more just a move of the returned Elves to more space for them to spread out. If he really wants to balance it out they could always bring some Hobbits and challenge their populations.” That had her giggle as you added, “Bring in some adorable young Hobbit Smials full of some pretty Hobbits, set up a nice match making center and get some more Dwarf babies in the mix.”

Hermione smiled saying, “Thorin has mentioned it. They always had some great customers out in the Shire, especially for their tilling tools and such. Though he also mentioned having to bring the topic to the table with you since technically we are sharing lands and it might take off some territory from our lands.”

“Oh sure, I guess. I’m taking the Pegasus on their flight later after school over Greenwood, if he’s free we could talk there at supper if he likes, or even a lunch today or another day when it fits his schedule.”

She nodded, “I’ll let them know.”

.

Classes were a welcome thing to shift your focus from the morning barrage of the Pears who exploded with the news of the elopement that shifted the view of the big celebration for your birthday coming up in their eyes for a suitably grand welcome to the new world. A double wedding was proving hard to plan for your relatives or even to imagine so this was an approvable alternative for everyone. And naturally as Tuesday you and next to Minerva you sat drinking your tea sharing news of the week and decompressing in the traditional time with your godmother now looking closer to her 40’s and younger by the day.

A knock on the door had the cup in Minerva’s hand lowering for her to say, “Come in.”

The door eased open and through it came Dumbledore who shut the door and turned to come and join you both approaching the carpet the table was resting on he stopped at the edge of. “Sorry to disturb Minerva, however I wished to speak to the both of you.” His eyes shifted to you as your eyes rose from the Elder wand in his fingers that kept smoothing over the strips between the knots. “Jaqiearae,” he sighed softly saying, “For years now there has been a tension of sorts between us, on our differing paths to the same goal. Mainly for my own reluctance on sharing my own beliefs and opinions. I never truly thanked you, for all you have endured to see to Voldemort’s death and the downfall of R and the Augreys. How truly humbling it is to know how much pain you had to endure to get to that point. I cannot fathom all the struggles involved and how I had compounded that weight upon you. I saw your pain, I saw the exhaustion, and I did nothing. That is something I cannot erase, I broke your trust and was unwilling to trust completely myself.”

He paused a moment for a new breath and then added, “My reason for coming today is that I have been contacted by the current Headmaster of Durmstrang, the position has been shaky since Igor has died. I have accepted the position and upon the beginning of the fall term I will be there to see if I might to instill some much needed stability to their school. I truly do cherish every moment I have spent on these grounds and there is no one, Minerva, else who I would entrust with charge of these grounds and the minds to shape inside of them.”

“Oh wow,” you muttered.

He gave you a kind grin, “I am so inexplicably proud to have had you among the pupils we taught here and will be keeping up with the path of the Kenmare Kestrals and rooting you on. Perhaps some space might be best for us all and allow some time to heal and reflect.”

Minerva said, “You are certain of this?”

Dumbledore nodded, “Yes, most of my time for the remaining weeks will be contacting choices to instruct as most of theirs have been taking to flying off in the middle of the night. Much worse than the hexed position all over again. The full school is bent on wreaking havoc, so for a few days at least I am traveling out there to assess the damage and to see where I might improve upon things. I shall return however in time for your birthday celebration, I did wish to leave this to you.” He said offering you the Elder Wand that you timidly accepted. “Since our arrival here it seems to have broken its trust with me as well. Refusing to cast barely anything,” his smile eased out, “Took me quite some time to find my former wand, and ooh, did it nip at me for the decades of neglect.” His eyes shifted to Minerva again while you eyed the wand you felt pulsing in your fingertips, “I will always treasure our friendship and I will never find a friendship as golden and pure as ours no matter how kind the Professors try to be to me to gain my favor. Fawkes will certainly enjoy the flights for our correspondence.”

By the time you looked up again he was on his way through the door he closed behind himself, to her your eyes shifted and you asked, “Did he just quit?”

Minerva, “Gave notice, however, I never assumed to inherit this school without his death.”

“I don’t know how to feel about this.”

She flashed you a calming grin, “Well, we will carry on and endure. Perhaps Durmstrang truly is in trouble to have contacted him.”

“Or he just wanted the furthest spot from me next term.”

At that she chuckled and shook her head, “Not true, if anything he is not looking forward to finding a replacement for Professor Sprout.”

“She’s retiring?”

“Not quite, but possibly soon. Carrying the students and all of their work since her aid was killed is rather rough on her.”

“If she needs an aid you can write to Neville, they’re outsourcing his role in May now that Remus is settling all the Aurors into positions permanently.”

Minerva, “Neville would be perfect for the position. I’ll write him in my exam time in my next class. I am certain he will respond quickly.”

That had you giggle, “He’ll answer within the hour would be my bet.” She echoed with a chuckle of her own.

 *

Fully opened for the day Weasley Wizard Wheezes was filling with the chatter and sounds echoing of the enchanted toys floating around above Dudley in his final check up on the displays while Ginny locked the register and pulled out the order sheet for the items and potions not in stock to be made and prepped later. It didn’t take long until the first customers entered and the pair assisted each of them while the blonde upstairs finished restocking another display while keeping an eye on the customers ensuring the others wouldn’t get overwhelmed while they did the menial tasks.

A few hours in however a timid pair of Dwarves found their way inside. The ginger haired thickly bearded shorter one led his chestnut haired husband through the shop. Their green eyes shining hopefully while they looked over the displays only for them to turn back towards the door when they saw no sign of the one they wanted. Halfway however Dudley stopped in their path asking, “Can I help you find something?”

Wetting his lips the chestnut haired one peered up at the teen asking, “We were just browsing.”

Dudley nodded as they stuttered a step then he asked, “It wouldn’t happen to be about that gender potion? Would it?” Their lips parted and Dudley said, “Jaqi’s not here, but she said to take down the information of any coming to ask about it and she’d set an appointment to collect what’s needed.” The couple glanced at one another and Dudley stated, “We have one of our friends coming up with a Dwarvish sign. Should be in later today.” He drew a journal out of his back pocket along with a pen he uncapped, and gave them a soft grin handing the pair to the couple who wrote down their names and address for their home in Erebor then passed them back.

Dudley grinned again and said, “I’ll make sure she gets this by lunch, she’s due to drop in today, and she will contact you for a consultation.”

The pair bowed their heads thanking Dudley then hurried back out again making him chuckle and head back to Ginny who asked, “First gender potion request?”

Dudley nodded and chuckled, “We might want to hurry up with a sign. They nearly left.”

Ginny nodded, “Well, shouldn’t take too long now till we get more filing in to give their names.”

Dudley, “Just hope they don’t all start bustling in at once. I doubt they could handle more than two at a time.”

Ginny chuckled, “Well it’s a big step, I doubt they would come out in droves.”

 *

“Ada, I heard you wished to speak to me?” Legolas stated upon entering the study of his apartment finding a set of notes from the celebration he wanted to triple check the progress of.

Turned around the King smiled and said, “Yes, how were your patrols?”

“Very well, still clear of spiders and pests. Although there are some mountain goat herds trampling upon badger territories in our upper rings. Nothing too terribly troubling for us to send aid, and we uncovered a hidden troll hoard with more spoils we brought back to inspect and redistribute.”

“That is impressive.” The trip within the mirror was described in the move to the seating area and in each hand movement the rings came to his focus spreading is father’s smile until he could say, “And the largest news is we are married.”

Legolas said, “Was the plan not to propose marriage? I am pleased, so very pleased, merely confused.”

Thranduil inhaled and eased a bit closer to his son on the chair across from his, “That was the initial plan to honor her customs, however it was her offer to honor our culture to claim us as her husbands and could merely inform others we had eloped and to hold a celebratory dinner. In fact made these rings for us, the larger for an engagement ring of our own and for our wedding bands.” He showed his rings to Legolas who smiled wider sharing, “Each of these opals are for our children between us, yours in the center, they grow as our little ones do. For the future a ceremony may come or it may just remain a dinner, however for now we are married and discovering where we are traveling together in our lives.”

“I did not expect to be included in demonstrations of your union.”

Thranduil gave him a comforting grin, “I understand that. You are fully grown so naturally it would not be expected for her to have claimed you as one of our children, however you are my son and she in no way would exclude you as part of our family. Even Naneth is gaining a friendship with Jaqi. I do believe the intention was honorable for her to have decided on her own without discussing with us first.”

“Are there intentions of a shift of my rank now heirs are a possibility?”

“Absolutely not, no. Our relationship does not alter our status. This union is not for the intention of altering anyone’s rank. That we have discussed, for the time being Jaqi has requested to assist me when possible in our settling. Yet when it comes to the weight of full rule as Queen she is requiring time. There are still great wounds requiring time to heal, this is how we are going to help her. We have so much to learn about one another and no, there are no intentions of any shift of power. For now we welcome her on her birthday to her rule and allow things to settle as they do.”

Legolas asked, “How may I help?”

“For now, we will keep focus on the celebration and later today Jaqi has requested permission to escort a herd of flying horses over our forest as a means of their first flight. For which I fully anticipate Thengel to arrive.” Making his son smirk and get back to his apartment to bathe, change and pick up on finishing off your gift he was making you.

 *

Times of council alone was something that had drawn Lord Elrond to the Black Family Home. Back to speak with a fellow emotionally wounded father with whom he had grown to become frond of a friendship and personal talks together. And here he sat across from Sirius Black with his adopted son in hand once he had been changed. The child in question being a good doorway to aid in airing some more weight lifting details for his friend. “Was his father a good man?”

“Harry was, tried to be. Not much of a chance to be. Better father than his had been as it should be. Little Fin is going to be a great man one day.”

Elrond asked, “If I may, what did his grandfather do to earn that image in your eyes? I was under the understanding the pair of you were close having married sisters who both mothered your children.”

“Yes. We did. And James and me went back farther than that. Back since first year when he caught on I didn’t want to go home. My parents took it terribly that I wasn’t in Slytherin like Reg ended up. Drove a wedge between us for the apparent slight on the family name. But eventually I needed a place to go and the Potters took me in. Normally my parents would have tracked me down and drug me back by my hair but they were one of the Sacred 28 and socially accepted as one of our old relations. They had James late in life and he was their golden child who could do no wrong. That went to his head.

Jewels, Lily and Sev were three peas in a pod even when they were sorted apart. James saw Lily and I saw Jewels so we had a common target to wedge ourselves between for their company. Didn’t work only pissed the girls off. But by the time we were in our fifth year the pranks and rivalry grew to something more for James.

One day Sev was under a tree and Lily had turned him down again so he was already and after Sev got top marks in our class yet again over James’ pitiful Troll mark he saw red. Went over and I thought it was just a bit of ribbing, some verbal jabs to blow off but he strung him up. Then I saw him undo Sev’s belt and I could see Jewels on her way over ready to murder James, so I blasted James first.

Jewels already had two strikes after having snuck out to the Centaur herds a couple times and irritating the patience out of the latest batch of creatures for Magical Creatures class till they flew off to hide in the Herbology greenhouses. She loved Sev, since they were kids, even though he loved Lily, and she was settling into that and saw that no matter how much she made herself look like Lily he’d never pick her. But she’d never let James cross lines before and that look in her eye I knew would be the end. I bound him up and drug him to McGonagall’s knowing she’d lay into him unlike Dumbledore who’d try to always say boys will be boys. And that Sev always gave as good as he got.”

Elrond stated in his pause, “That was very brave of you.”

Sirius chuckled breathlessly to himself, “No. it was selfish, he got a year’s detention and kicked off the Quidditch team. Never forgave me for that. Gave Reg a firing chance at the Cup that year. Never heard the end of that either.” His face went serious and he continued, “James didn’t let me back in the dorm the rest of the year after I asked him if he’d attack Reg too if he had the chance. Used to keep bringing up that Reg was slotted to join the Death Eaters like Sev wanted to. Back then there was only one choice full or half blood, join or die. And even though Sev was a half-blood they needed bodies.”

Elrond asked, “Did he let you back that summer, you shared before you lived with his family.”

“No. Or well, didn’t give him a chance to turn me down. He could be so exhausting at times to be around when he felt empowered. Wasn’t the first time we’d had a spat and he’d kicked me out. But this time my cousin Andromeda and her at the time boyfriend Teddy, they were lined up for a Muggle duplex near to where Jewels lived and so I said I’d chip in for the spare room and Reg ended up with us in the other apartment with Sev who needed an out of his own from his dad. He had an in with a record shop that hired kids during the summer and we all lived pretty rough that summer, but Jewels always came round.

Finally strong enough to look like herself and not Lily’s twin, and was she beautiful first time she let me see the real her. Just like I’d seen the moon the first time. And that was when she decided to find out who her birth family was when her and Petunia and Lily had a row of their own. Something about their dad being sick set them all off. And then about half the year when we got back to Hogwarts I spent most of the year sneaking to Reg’s dorm. Christmas break Reg went round for the first time to Riddle’s hideout and was told to tidy up. Found a hidden hatch in his library. Liked to keep journals and scrapbooks. Bits and pieces that Reg snuck a Muggle camera in the next time to page by page capture what was on it or Riddle’d caught on that someone made a copy. James could never keep his nose out of things for his own good and sniffed out we were up to mischief and by next term again he was back round when he saw we’d drawn Remus in to try and figure out what the clippings meant.

We never told him about the horcruxes, just said it had something to do with Riddle’s plans. Drove him wild and by his last year he’d gotten Lily and Jewels and I were going strong in the break Sev had to take from their friendship when his dad died as he had to help his Mum at home through that. And Dumbledore even though he’s not been a Prefect made James Head Boy since he seemed to turn a new leaf and still required some busy work and heavy tasks to distract that he’d not be on the team again his final year. Did all he could to keep that mark off his file but McGonagall insisted and it transferred to his Ministry file, he got his Auror’s badge but they labeled him a loose canon and never let him out unsupervised.”

Elrond, “How does the pregnancy with Jaqi fit into the drama? I know she bears a weight from it as well.”

“Ah, well, we found out Jewels was pregnant at school first term and over Holiday break final year we spoke to her parents, we needed their permission to wed. And of course I sucked up my pride and went home. Mum almost threw us off the stoop till she caught Jewel’s eyes, Slytherin’s eyes. We shared her bloodline we’d uncovered from the Gaunts and she agreed right away. Signed the license and even set me up with a hefty allowance and changed her will. My cousins Narcissa and Bellatrix had already gotten engaged to wealthy suitors so they no longer required inheritance and Andromeda chose a Muggle. So Mum spoke to our aunt and uncle and they all set up Jaqi’s inheritance as the youngest female descendant, Mum of course wrote me a sum and the properties as the eldest with a larger sum for Reg as long as I swore to always grant him a roof. Which was not a hard deal already said as much to him when we were little.

And of course when we got back Jewels got on an accelerated course which I got pushed into as well to be there when she gave birth. McGonagall was always so supportive so we chose her as Godmother and she took time off too to help us when April came round. Sev showed up when school got out to our house and came with us to visits with my Mum, who loved having another girl for the Black clan, especially one with Slytherin’s eyes. Jewels got a spot with a theater troupe and we had a nice little life, I didn’t mind the lesser rank in the Ministry after their distrust gave me more time with my girls.”

“Distrust?”

“I turned James in. My best friend who took me in. Broke an old boy’s code. Part of how Fudge thought I was guilty of already turned on James once before and stunted his career.” Sirius shook his head, “But I got distracted and forgot to look out for Peter, and, he turned on us all. Harry got James’ brash decisions and assured headstrong nature. Fin’ll be better, safer. I’d give so much to have given Pumpkin a safe and happy childhood, and I will always wear that weight for not having done more. But now I have to keep this boy safe and loved, and hope for better than we could achieve.”

Elrond spoke smoothly, “I have no doubts Jaqi has many fond memories in her childhood, and you are alive. In that she is safe, she has you and her daughter will be her motivation as Phineas is yours to protect the future from errors of the past. I have known war and mutilated cultures, and have raised three safe protected children, who yes, know pain, but also endurance and hope for a brighter tomorrow. Which will be all the brighter thanks to you and you family.”

Sirius chuckled, “I didn’t do much beyond annoy you and the other Lords until Pumpkin showed up by prolonging the wait to find that ring. And she did it with a flick of her wrist. Every bit the same explosive resilience her Mum gave her with those same haunted eyes. I used to flinch sharing my name, now, because of her we are truly the Noble House of Black, Jaqiearae’s line. Sometimes I have no clue where she gets it from.”

Elrond chuckled and replied, “All the mirrors in your home are broken I would presume,” that had the father’s smirk at one another, “It is truth and nothing more. Somewhere in there you had a hand in her steadfast strength.”

Sirius chuckled again, “More like Minerva imbued part of her own fire in my girl, every bit influenced by that brilliant Scot. Couldn’t have chosen a better Godmother. Woman can be downright terrifying with a single tick of her brow and angle of her chin.” After a hushed chuckle he asked with a smirk to his friend, “Now, my turn for a question.” Elrond nodded to that. “What type of husbands has my Pumpkin chosen? And I don’t mean rank. Thranduil has his son and Glorfindel has shared he’s raised kids before, but there’s five babies now, including my granddaughter and I won’t have my Pumpkin or her Jelly Bean suffering from some hidden clause they didn’t know about.”

Elrond’s smile split across his face and he relaxed into this path of sharing more towards the fathering techniques and patterns the both of your husbands had to ease these understandable doubts and questions. While himself in a bout of self soothing as well while from time to time flashes of those memories of your suffering had him wishing more than anything to aid in a smooth transition for the three of you upon tackling the process of learning one another even more and to master the topic of parenting your five children.

 *

“Ready Buckbeak?” You said and the Hippogriff squawked happily behind you with the glare he was giving to the teen winged horses around you to keep them from nipping at you in the circle of appointed adult winged horses from various breeds to guard their own foals that were ready to get flying. Turned around the neck behind you it was easy to hop up onto Buckbeak’s back to signal his turn and trot to take off into the air. Right behind him hooves thundered with at a great distance the students caught the fifty foals and twelve fully grown winged horses that took into the air off towards the Greater Greenwood. Off to the side you soared to let the lead stallions guide the group across the Black Lake and field beyond that. A river came next past a green hilly pasture the herd excitedly eyed and fanned out into their own groups on the stretch for the seemingly endless forest ahead.

Winds thankfully were less harsh beyond the river with a few spotty clouds in between the younger foals were shown which to fly over and which to fly through. Content on the flight Buckbeak soared with feathers rippling to the whip off your curls in a braided ponytail out behind you to the shivers of your sweater secured by your vest. All ignored while you kept your eyes open for any dangers with wand at the ready on your thigh and the other hand on the tolerated scarf around Buckbeak’s neck he preferred to a rope when being ridden. Halfway over Amon Lanc under the shorter trees between the larger trees around the rebuilt keep Elves down below peered up at the stunning creatures that bounced on a new wind current that had shifted and settled again for their formations to relax back into their flight when the group was over the trees again.

Zig zags and long curved path changes you swung around widely helped to cover a vast stretch of the forest from the golden sky long past the moment when the stars surrounded you that hindered clear views of the herds they could hear far above them. Though dipping down between a ring of trees at the clear signs of growing tired into the inner ring of the Palace Buckbeak led the way for a clear spring near the portals that the foals could use to get back to the Forbidden Forest easily once they had rested. Into the open pathways crowds darted and behind the guards with heads turning on their own. Halfway across the field Buckbeak stopped at the trio of boys excitedly jumping beside Thranduil and Glorfindel with Legolas darting out of the Palace himself while Thengel stood open mouthed gawking at the creatures passing him. Loud and clear the snarl from a foal was cut off by Buckbeak’s squawk and kick his way blocking the children with his body, through which you swung your leg over and slid off his back to walk to the trio.

“Hey boys. Come meet Buckbeak.” Excitedly they hurried over to the Hippogriff that you explained and guided them on strokes of his head and the ends of his wings he stretched for them.

Thengel came over, “These are your steeds?”

When you met his eye you smiled and said, “Not mainly. Hippogriffs rarely allow people to ride them, but Buckbeak was born and raised at Hogwarts around us, wild ones don’t hardly let people around them and Pegasus even less so. These, well the golden breeds,” you said pointing over the foals fanned out at the stream to drink while the Stallions took turns drinking and keeping watch with a pure white stallion that lingered near Buckbeak. “They were raised on Hogwarts grounds, most of the others except for Nimbus here were wild ones we rescued from the war. They normally live on cliff sides and tend to attack people who come close. Even Nimbus won’t let people ride him but,” you said waving your wand over your palm summoning a tray of fruit that lured it closer with wings fidgeting excitedly. “He can be bribed to tolerate people at a distance. Oddly enough the fanged breeds are the ones who can be brought around people, the fangless breeds remain in their nests on the cliffs. Should have their homes ready for them soon enough to be released to. For now these little guys needed their first flight.”

Thengel watched you walk over and hover a slice up for him to eat and their mouths dropped open again at the fangs revealed. The snacks however lured a couple grey freckled foals closer you offered fruit to turning more heads from the foals that refused to come closer but still tolerated the treats for each of them. Nimbus however was off with a haughty tail flick to get his own drink as the boys came closer as Legolas asked, “Does Buckbeak not eat fruit?”

“He eats dead ferrets actually.” You said with a smirk in his move closer to circle Thengel to get a look at his daughter behind his boots. “Probably not as fun for little kids to watch.”

Glorfindel said in a step closer to your side, “I recall you mentioning Unicorns as well. What do they eat?”

Estel with an apple sliced up from his snack inside he’d brought out to the sight of the herd timidly watched Buckbeak curious if he should offer him the apple he’d moved away from earlier in their pets. Thengel looked from the Hippogriff’s back to you, “Unicorns?” then back to his daughter he picked up granting her courage to touch Buckbeak’s head.

With a smile you giggled and popped off to the Forbidden Forest puzzling the golden haired King while Thranduil and Legolas took a creeping step to inspect the oddly pink group of foals mingled with a mint green pair.

Suddenly your doorway appeared and through it gasps were earned at the sight of a shimmering Unicorn that timidly followed you through it into the clearing near the wide eyed boys. Onto the tray peaches appeared and once sliced they were lowered to the boys it lowered its head to peer at analytically. Thengel just about shrieked in excitement yet held it back to a squeak in Buckbeak’s path to your side at your summoning some ferrets for him to eat off to the side near the stream the herd left to walk to the doorway to head home again. With a grin you turned to offer a slice of the peaches to the Unicorn peering over your shoulder, “And Unicorns, rarely come out at all, but Tibby here was found as a filly and raised by a friend of mine at Hogwarts. Still shy but for small bursts she’ll let the students inspect her for lessons.”

Inched closer to your offered palm the boys lifted the slices that she crept closer to your hushed whisper for confidence in that she was safe. Her moonlit shimmering coat had the Elves in awe watching her timidly take each slice offered. At the end of the Pegasus herd leaving a curious golden filly crept closer to the doorway and to her mother’s side came an even more stunning golden filly crept to the excited boys, “And this is Libby, Tibby’s youngest, and possibly bravest.” You giggled out at Tibby’s move to hide her head behind you in Thengel’s move closer.

Thengel asked, “Why are they afraid?”

You turned to say, “Because they’ve been hunted nearly to extinction before. Most only approach women they come across,” you said at Tibby’s head lowering to the boys’ pats on her legs that she answered with letting them pat her snout. Libby drew the closest to Thengel in his lowering his daughter who accepted a slice from you to feed her earning giggles from the girl. “Now we have strict laws protecting their herds and territory they live in that the Centaurs defend mercilessly. After all it’s unforgivable to harm a creature so pure, in fact those who do live a half life, a cursed life. We do use the hairs from their tails for wands but only shed hairs the Centaurs trade with us annually.” Down Tibby’s neck your hand smoothed at her warning snicker that she was ready to head back home in Buckbeak’s trot to the doorway to inspect an odd birdcall.

Thengel’s eyes however caught on one of the Centaur’s that came into view on his rounds that kept on seeing that you were there to guard the pair close to only you and the children. “I cannot fathom anyone harming these beautiful creatures.”

That had you grin in the mare’s eager turn with a final snatch of the last peach slice on the tray with her tail brushing against your arm answered with a pat on her back hip. Up to your side Libby trotted and reared up making you giggle in her hooves pressing to your hips allowing you to press a kiss to the side of her snout while your hand stroked the other side. Down she went in a turn trotting after her mother through the doorway that vanished behind her. Excitedly the boys chuckled as you lowered and gave you tight hugs chattering about the creatures on the way to bring you to supper.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Disappearance 2: The Sighting {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Thank you all so much for your support with this story so far, I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Disappearance Masterlist

He dreamt of Chiasa often.

On bad nights his mind created terrible scenarios about who she was with and where she was and what was happening to her. Other better nights let him fantasize about finding her and bringing her back to his agency with a smug grin as he reunited with the love of his life.

Most nights, though, his dreams were memories. Soft around the edges and sometimes fuzzy in detail, but as real as he could remember.

That night he had a dream about finding their first apartment for just themselves. It was going to be a far cry from sharing a townhome with Kaminari and Jiro, mostly because it wasn’t going to be as cluttered and full of ridiculous pranks but also because it would finally be theirs.

He could vividly remember coming home from one of the early meetings with the Hero Public Safety Commission about starting his own agency and seeing her in the sitting room practically vibrating with excitement. She’d pulled him down beside her and all but shoved her tablet into his face to look at what she’d found, declaring that their search was over.

And it had been. The building had twenty-four security and desk staff, keycard resident entry, and was in a safer neighborhood with a low crime rate. He could see it was a short walk to the nearest train station and if he got the approval for his agency and secured the building he wanted, it wouldn’t be a long commute at all. Two bedrooms was well within their budget and would allow her to have a dedicated office space for her work from home position instead of her current setup at the foot of their bed.

He didn’t realize he’d been grinning until she poked his cheek and asked an impatient, “Well?”

“Let’s apply.”

She let out a happy squeal as she threw her arms around his shoulders, kissing his face repeatedly as he tried to keep a hold on her tablet. Her grip only seemed to grow tighter the more he weakly fought her embrace.

“Katsuki, this is going to be amazing!” she laughed, kissing his temple one final time as she pulled back slightly to cuddle against him. This time he didn’t fight the embrace, instead wrapping an arm around her to keep her close.

He’d scoffed. “’Course it’ll be amazing. It’s you and me.”

“You and me,” she agreed with a smile.

He could hear her saying those words as clear as day in his memories. It had started as a joke about the first time they’d gone out alone without friends; he’d asked her if she wanted to go to a new mochi shop and she immediately went to text the rest of their friends before he stopped her, grunting, “You and me.”

After some time it just became theirs. Three words with just as much weight as I love you. It was a simple way to say more important things—“I’m here for you” and “We’re in this together” and “The two of us cannot be broken.”

It was a part of how their bond became as strong as it did, and he missed hearing it in person.

Cool, early September air was left behind as the door to his agency closed behind him. He wasn’t thrilled with the weather beginning to take a turn towards lower temperatures, knowing his quirk took longer to build up its power. As much as he hated being called a “slow starter” in the winter it wasn’t entirely untrue.

Hikari greeted him with a curt good morning as he passed her desk and slid a few papers his way without looking up. He grabbed them and in their place set down a travel mug of peppermint tea and a small blue bento, his own low mornin’ barely audible.

Making his way to his office he looked over the patrol routes for the day and the notations about the current goings-on of the areas. It was fairly run-of-the-mill with little suspected villain activity, a perfect time to allow some of the newer sidekicks and interns to tag along with his people for the day.

Surprisingly this was one of the things he enjoyed about running his own agency. Planning and strategizing were some of his strong suits despite how much he did enjoy blasting headfirst into battle when he could. But as the man in charge he liked being control of where his people were posted a lot too.

He had already decided who would be taking which patrol by the time everyone was gathered in the large conference room in their hero costumes, some more bleary-eyed than others. Mugs of coffee and tea billowed steam above the table and Kirishima’s branded shaker bottle stood taller than all of them.

Kaminari yawned lazily and Sero elbowed him in the ribs at the stern glare of their boss.

“Three sectors, little activity save for the corner tea shop on route 2B,” he started as everyone turned their eyes towards him. “Cellophane and Pinky, you two are taking the sidekicks to sector 1. Route A to Cellophane, B to Pinky. Choose your sidekicks and report it before you leave.”

The two heroes fist bumped and shot grins and thumbs up towards the sidekicks across the table from them. They were the best to get collaboration on the brain when it came to the newer recruits.

“Sector 2 goes to Red Riot and Chargebolt. Red, you’re on route A with the two interns and Chargebolt you’re taking route B so make sure that shitty shop isn’t getting worse.”

He knew that Kirishima was the perfect option for guiding the wide-eyed interns through some of their first tastes of the hero life. Plus, he was the best defense if trouble arose and backup would take time.

“I’m taking sector 3 myself. Questions?” When no one responded, he concluded, “Alright, get out there.”

Kaminari shot a smile to everyone he came across on his patrol. Chargebolt was a well-liked figure and regarded very highly as a personable hero when spotted in public. He was proud to have cultivated that good will with the people and was oftentimes the one who handled the media for the Dynamight agency alongside Kirishima, Red Riot’s popularity one of the only heroes higher than himself.

Quieter times to stop and chat with his fans were always his favorite but days like this that required more vigilance he did what he could with smiles and waves to those he saw. Even if there was only suspected villain activity at the tiny tea shop across from the mall he had to keep a close eye on it.

He tried to spend as much time as he could with the shop in view while still patrolling the rest of the route. Nothing of note caught his attention all morning and well into the afternoon.

Then the afterschool crowd and post workday crowds filled the area. He began to see a few suspicious characters that he reported back to the agency when he had a chance, but none of them gave any other indication of wrongdoing. He preferred to be thorough, though, just like Bakugo liked.

Half a dozen notes later, as the sun was low in the sky, he started to plan his evening once he got home. Jiro had the day off which meant she would spend most of it in the studio and bring home their favorite takeout. She was always in a great mood after a day in the studio too, and he loved seeing her so happy.

The tinkling bell of the tea shop’s door opening brought him from his thoughts and his gaze fell on a scraggly-haired brunette stepping into the evening air. From where he was down the street, he could see her pull the hand of a small boy to come stand by her on the sidewalk. Dark, matted hair sat atop his head and he scratched at the arm the woman held.

The closer he got the more he noticed about them—the woman’s ill-fitting dress and oversized sweater in much warmer contrast to the boy’s too short jeans and short sleeved tshirt. The boy shook from the cold and he quickened his pace, everything in him ready to shrug off his jacket and wrap the child in it while giving a few choice words to the mother.

As he approached he saw the woman’s eyes darting furiously as she hurriedly crossed towards one of the mall’s department store entrances, the boy shuffling along beside her as he went from scratching his arm to scratching his neck. Her grip on his arm looked tighter than it should be, and she walked quickly with no regard for if he could keep up with her longer strides.

Kaminari took in as many details as possibly as he began crossing too before stopping dead in his tracks in the crosswalk when the woman turned and said something to the boy. Her profile fit all of his observations in place and he tried to make himself move forward to confirm what he thought he was seeing.

By the time his body started to cooperate the duo had disappeared into the crowded department store and he was left at the door with only startled suspicions and half-formed what if scenarios in his mind. He had to tell someone, someone other than Bakugo who would surely fly off the handle on him for losing sight of the woman.

As he went to radio Kirishima, his comm came on with an incoming message from the redhead instead—“Charge, rendezvous in twenty at our starting point to head back to the agency?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed breathlessly. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

Kirishima nudged him in the side, concerned for his usually loud blonde friend who had barely said a word on their journey back to the agency. “Are you okay, man? You’re never this quiet.”

Kaminari chewed the inside of his cheek as he pulled on his street clothes. With a sigh he ruffled his hair with his hand before rubbing his face.

“I saw something weird on my route at the tea shop.”

“Oh damn, what happened? Did you let Bakugo know yet? You know he needs those villain updates as soon as possible.”

He waved his hands to stop the questions. “No, I didn’t tell him yet but it wasn’t… I don’t know if it was villains.”

The redhead’s eyebrows knitted together. “Then what was so weird?”

“Right before you radioed me near the end of patrol I was finishing notes on some shady people around the shop when this lady and kid stepped out. They both looked, I don’t know, greasy? And she was dressed warm while the little boy she was with was shivering in just a tshirt.”

“That’s not exactly our kind of suspicious, dude, but we can—"

“But the fact that she looked like Chiasa is suspicious!”

Kirishima froze, whispering, “What?”

He nodded. “She looked like Chiasa with longer hair.”

“With… with a kid?”

“Yeah, little dark-haired kid that kept scratching at his arms and neck. I felt so bad for the little guy, he looked so cold—”

“Kaminari, focus!” Kirishima said harshly, cutting off his rambling. “We need to tell Bakugo. Even if it’s not her, he needs this lead. He has to see it through. On the off chance it is actually her… I don’t even know how he could react.”

“Plus she has a lot of explaining to do about where she’s been,” Kaminari sighed. “It’s been so long.”

Kirishima nodded sadly. “It has, but we need to let Bakugo lead on this. Whether or not it was really her and will get him closer to finding her, I don’t know. But he needs to do this. It’s the only way for him to move forward.”

Closing their lockers, they gathered their bags and made their way to their small shared office. The day being fairly quiet aside from the two brunettes being sighted allowed them to finish their patrol reports quickly and send them to Bakugo for his review.

They knew he waited until all reports were received to begin looking them over and they had never been more grateful for Mina’s inability to focus, knowing for a fact that she was always the last person to submit her reports. Passing her still in costume talking animatedly to the sidekicks about their day let them know that this time wasn’t going to be any different. It allowed them to speak with Bakugo before he had to read the information and hopefully let them do damage control too.

Hikari was just leaving his office as they came to the doorway, a tired smile on her lips as she shuffled the papers in her hands.

Kaminari knocked on the doorframe as she passed them to head back to her desk and without looking up was called in by their friend and boss.

“What?” he grunted, continuing to loosen his gauntlets to set them aside. Unlike the rest of them he preferred to write his reports before changing completely.

Kaminari cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling Kirishima’s hand on his shoulder for support. As long as he’d known Bakugo and been on the receiving end of his temper and explosions, this had to be one of the most nerve-wracking conversations he was going to start.

“I’ve got some news from my patrol today.”

Red eyes snapped up to meet his. “Villains at the tea shop? What happened? Was it in your report? You never called for backup and I know we didn’t have anyone detained in any of our sectors.”

He spoke quickly, his shoulders tensing with each word as he prepared himself to don his gauntlets once again to find whoever was stirring up trouble in his agency’s territory.

“No, no, it was just an observation but I wanted to tell you about it in person—”

“Then spit it out!”

“I think… I think it’s possible that I saw Chiasa come out of the tea shop with a little dark-haired boy. I’m not one-hundred percent sure if it was her but it sure as hell looked like her.”

Bakugo stood rigid behind his desk. Over four years of not a single clue as to where she was or if she was safe and now she reappeared right in his agency’s backyard. If it was her.

He would pull all the surveillance he could find in the area based on Kaminari’s report and go through it with a fine-toothed comb. He would know if it were her. There was no one he knew better.

If he decided it was her then their patrol routes were about to get a shakeup and he was about to get answers years in the making. But that was for him to know, at least for now.

“I’ll review your report. Send Hikari back on your way out and I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said evenly.

The two other heroes exchanged surprised looks, expecting a much bigger reaction than a few long moments of silence. They watched him sit down and start his computer, his body language tense but not to the level they had anticipated.

“You don’t want to—”

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” he repeated, eyes flicking up to see their stunned faces. He watched them blankly until they seemed to take the hint ad turned to leave.

He sat alone typing his report after making his request to Hikari to go through the proper channels for the surveillance footage he wanted and warning her that he would likely need more after reviewing Kaminari’s report. She didn’t seem to mind, letting him know that she would tell him as soon as the requested film came in.

So until then he sat in his office allowing himself to grasp onto this small straw of hope, holding tight to the first real evidence he’d had in years that he might be able to use to bring her home.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated!

Disappearance Masterlist

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [10/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their  living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn  found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

“How do you keep people from turning into new addictions?”

Eren never liked group.

Being soaked to the bone and listening to every single drip of water adding to the puddle under his chair while he tried to towel himself off without making a scene didn’t do anything to make the feeling go away. His sneakers were soggy masses of sponge glued to his socks. His jacket was in a useless, sodden heap under the cookie table.

Historia wasn’t doing much better. Worse, maybe, since she’d taken one of Petra’s towels with distracted obedience before bringing her real focus to powering her way through as much therapy as she could in as little time as possible. Her towel was slung over her shoulders like a limp ferret.

Petra had a collection by the door for rainy days. Just in case. No one else had taken one.

Eren should have grabbed more, but he was in his squeaky plastic chair, and habit said he wasn’t allowed to leave the squeaky plastic chair until he’d sat still in it long enough to wonder if the car crash had killed him and this was what he was stuck with for the rest of ever.

He didn’t like group.

He liked Petra, and her calm, steady tone when her pen clacked against her clipboard and she asked if anyone wanted to start them out. He liked the few seconds he wasn’t thinking about the water dripping down his neck and under his shirt. Then the work started, and he had to figure out words for wanting to break his body into pieces until he came back right.

All the jagged edges chafed and reminded. Petra wasn’t the one who would take that away.

But she made it easier to push the pieces back into place. And to figure out where that place even was.

So when Historia asked her question, watching Petra with the feverish concentration that said it was the first and only thing she ever should have asked when she found out she wanted better, and Petra’s eyes shot to Eren, he sat up straight and listened. His shoes squelched on the floor. His eyes were probably just as hungry.

“It is very easy to displace addictive tendencies,” Petra started. “I won’t count the number of you who take smoke breaks after this, but I think we can all agree that when something has consumed so much of our life, walking away and leaving that hole is almost impossible. Maybe we’ve kept from filling it up with the same poisons, but it’s there, and we’ve come to depend on it. We’ve rewired ourselves to want the pattern to keep going, even when it ruins everything.”

Hundreds of unanswered texts buzzed in Eren’s pocket. Dozens of dents pounded into his fists.

The fucking orange bottles.

He breathed through his nose. He answered his texts now. It was fine. If it wasn’t yet, he’d make it.

“A lot of the time, we don’t even notice. We’re so used to going through our life that way, and working so hard to keep away from our vices, that we completely miss that we’ve found a new one. Depressive episodes turn into somewhere that’s safe to stay as long as we aren’t on drugs.” Petra eyed Eren again. “Anger is a natural emotion, so there’s nothing strange about always feeling it. Finding a new place to put it becomes as much of a habit as anything else.”

Eren’s hands clamped compulsively on his towel. The threads caught in his fingernails the way dust on the baseball diamond got stuck under them after a long practice.

“Adding people into it makes a complicated thing even harder. Especially the people we’ve kept, who want us to be doing well. Someone like that turns into a beacon, not a person, so our relationships become strained.”

Historia interrupted and Eren was almost glad for it. She leaned forward in her chair while scattered raindrops fell from her head. “How do you stop that?” she asked.

Petra didn’t miss a beat. “Boundaries.”

Historia waited. The chair’s weight fell on its front legs. “What if it’s someone you don’t want boundaries with?”

Or someone who had a weird concept of what they were. Like a girl who showed up to make breakfast in someone else’s home, or a guy who had dinner regularly with his step-mother but not his brother.

The two people who understood the rules had never stepped out of the box Eren made for them, and it had made him crazy to need it.

“Then they’re even more important,” Petra said. She repositioned her clipboard on her lap, letting her pen roll to the edge and zoning in on Historia. “We all have people we want to be close to. Sometimes we want to share everything with them. We want them to be part of us so strongly that we lose track of who we are without them. Who we are stops mattering without them.”

She didn’t look at Eren again. All of her attention went to Historia, who had lost any color she had left in her skin. Eren didn’t think she’d blinked the whole conversation. He wasn’t sure he had, either.

“No one can make it through the world alone, but we’re still individuals. Who you are,” Petra said, turning to the whole circle, “matters beyond who you are connected to. Healthy relationships have everyone involved remembering that. For people who are just now rediscovering who they are, the obvious danger is losing yourself in the high of something new and wonderful.

“So you find your boundaries. Yours and theirs. Focus on where you begin and where you end, and learn where to find them. Then, you work together to discover how you fit.” Petra settled back, smiling her easy, gentle smile that promised help. “Addiction drives us to lose ourselves in whatever will take us. Moving forward is always about reclaiming, or gaining more of yourself. You want to build relationships that make that easier, not harder. If the relationship itself is hindering that, you know there’s a problem, and, well.”

Comfort. It shone straight out of her. That was what made Petra worth listening to even when she said the stupid thing that stupid people had been telling Eren even before he downed his first pill. She believed it. She believed deep down that all the broken people she talked to would be okay. “There is a saying about that being the first step to recovery.”

----

By the time Petra recruited Eren to dump the soaked towels back in the car, it was no longer raining, and he could hold his jacket near him without feeling like he was holding Benjamin.

They hadn’t gotten off the relationship kick. Daz had managed to adopt the cat that lived in his drug dealer’s alley. Samuel, who didn’t have a leg to be broken, was wondering about when the right time was to bring up why he wasn’t barhopping with his new coworkers.

Eren had only mentioned Zeke once. When that was too many, he forced through how he only had Mikasa and Armin at all because they’d been better than anyone had the right to expect. He’d earned the circle a reminder of how they didn’t get to choose how the world around perceived them. Historia’s whole body had flinched, but by that point the embarrassment and past guilt was more choking than any present guilt.

More to work on.

“Do either of you drive?” Petra asked, opening her trunk. “You didn’t have to walk here in the rain.”

“We don’t have a car,” Eren said.

She shoved several beds of blankets and a sandbag to the side to make room for the pile Eren and Historia had created after helping out with drying the floor they’d soaked. “Uber works, too.”

“It isn’t a long walk.”

Petra never made sudden stops. She flowed into her movements, even stillness. Annie and Mikasa moved the same way. Years of training in something. Petra smoothed out her shirt and considered him. “Can you drive?” she asked.

Wet tires rolled across the parking lot, smearing puddles and keeping the damp silence from sticking to anything.

“Yeah,” Eren said. “I can drive. I’m the one driving half of Zeke’s team to parties after games.”

“Even though you don’t own a car?”

“It’s Zeke’s car,” Eren said.

Petra took the towels from his stiff arms and tossed them easily into her car. She watched him throughout the movement, and Eren wanted to hate, the way he hated himself and Zeke and anyone who tried to give a damn about him, but the hook about patterns and anger was too fresh to pick at and he could hear his heart in his ears with the steady thump that didn’t belong to thrown tennis balls against a wall they belonged to a body hitting a mat or a windshield.

The cold didn’t feel so cold. The outside of his skin matched.

“He lets you drive,” Petra said, with Frieda’s gentleness.

Eren nodded.

Petra knew the thin details.

“He’s your brother on your father’s side, isn’t he?”

“Right.”

Petra knew more about everything else in Eren’s life, because she was too good and too responsible to zone out during group and forget who the people she was helping even were. She was the one who had Eren thinking to count how many times he brought up his brother. She didn’t barrel in without consideration. She asked, “Have you ever talked to him about what happened?”

Eren froze up. Working his jaw felt like bending steel. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Petra carefully patted the disorganized clump of towels into a corner and smiled back at him. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” She stood up straight and squeezed his shoulder. Eren, in a way he hadn’t felt for weeks, had trouble meeting her eyes.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she said. “You just seem to be looking for something more from him, and…” She paused, and Eren was back in his chair for the first time. “No one likes being vulnerable, but having someone to share it with can be very rewarding. That’s all. You still get to pick if you want that or not.”

“I don’t,” Eren said. Like they were the only words available. He sounded like the small kid Zeke would actually try with for a painful second.

“That’s fine,” Petra said. In another place, if he were a different person, her step forward probably would have made for an okay hug. She kept smiling at him, and he couldn’t make the corners of his mouth do anything. “But being able to go somewhere without the weather getting in your way would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Droplets of water were still spilling out of his bangs, and all of his shrugs dampened his chin. Out of everything she’d said, that was the easiest thing of the day to nod to.

----

Somewhere, Eren had stopped slamming doors. Not when Mikasa came to stay with them. Not when his dad asked him, speaking in the tolerant tone that said Eren was misbehaving and it was expected, to be kinder to his home. Maybe when the therapist told him he should find less destructive outlets and some words had slipped in through the drugs and screaming at her. Maybe when he shared a room with Reiner, who jumped at every unexpected noise.

Somewhere. Close to when he moved back with his mom and put one last step of trying in before giving up and whaling on the walls.

Somewhere, he’d put a lid on himself, and steaming mad, he could walk through a door and close it like what Armin called a civilized member of society.

He could leave a family dinner without exploding. He could tromp the cleats he’d never asked for back through his front door without giving anyone a reason to think there was something wrong.

Everyone in his apartment, being Ymir and Historia, was too asleep to look up and see the reasons written all over his face. They probably appreciated his self-control. Eren would have appreciated Historia being awake. Not at the cost of Ymir being awake. But the heat in his chest wanted to be screamed if it couldn’t be thrown out into pieces of the building, and he was starting to need someone to listen when the rage hit.

Other good habits. Always needing someone else. He couldn’t just fix himself and keep everyone out of it. Not that he ever could.

The bitterness was hard to keep, with Historia and Ymir on the couch, trying to fuse themselves permanently together in their sleep. An empty pizza box was strewn on the floor by their feet.

Eren slouched over to Benjamin’s tank and sunk to the floor. Unreasonably jealous and stupid. Dinner with them would have been a better kind of weird. A kind of weird that belonged.

Better than walking out into the deep night air and having his mom squish him into a hug that took away all the cold rage that had spent an hour and years building. “Eren,” she’d said, voice alive with good humor, “you do have to tell him at some point that you want things to change. Or of course they won’t.”

She’d let go, and taken all of the comfort with her. Leaving him with him.

“Eren?”

Eren’s head whipped to the couch. Drowsy blue eyes peered at him from over Ymir’s shirt.

“Yeah. Hey.”

Historia shifted, carefully tucking her head under Ymir’s chin without disrupting her snuffled snores. “How was dinner?” she asked blearily.

She should have stayed asleep. The frustration and Zeke had expanded into his throat and waited through every mouthful to pop, held off by his mom and the enforced calm of trying not to do this to everyone who put up with him ever week, still buzzing under his skin and making sitting still hurt, even with Benjamin’s soothing tank noises so close, and—

Zeke had nodded his customary goodbye, and Eren had nodded back, not saying anything.

The balloon of anger deflated. “The way it always is,” Eren said.

Historia watched him, far away from his problems in the safety of Ymir’s arms bruising her ribs.

“She can’t always be right!” Eren remembered shouting. Four, and five, and eight, and ten, and the injustice of his mom knowing more about the world than he did being flung into the ears of anyone who would listen.

Armin and Mikasa. Mostly.

His dad used to listen. He would listen, and his glasses would glint in the lamplight—the way Zeke’s still did—and he would say, too calmly to possibly understand, “You accuse Armin of that sin often enough.”

Their dad hadn’t known what to do with Zeke either. It was always his mom making things work. Never Zeke. Never his dad. Never Eren.

Watching Historia, whose forehead was starting to fold together with a concern Ymir usually kept her too calm to feel, the question slipped out without a thought.

“What’s having a sister like?”

Concern popped into confusion. “Probably like having a brother?”

The perplexed blankness on Historia’s face didn’t do much for the leftover bristles in Eren’s shoulders. He shrugged without following up with anything helpful. Wondering if he should have even bothered asking. Historia and Frieda were their own complicated. Normal siblings didn’t bring over ice cream to hide that they were watching their baby sister sleep because they were afraid of her dying.

“If you texted her more often, she’d probably back off on that. Or if you talked to her at all.”

He was used to Historia getting it. He was used to Historia being like him. Even if it wasn’t the same at all. He was used to watching his brother keep his hands off everything Eren did unless he had an explicit invitation, and Historia was used to letting her sister believe that her most extreme fussing was a secret. Loving Frieda enough to stay alive for her hadn’t made them closer. It was just one more thing Historia didn’t talk to her about.

Frieda showed up to fill the silence anyway.

“…Do you mean,” Historia asked, “what it’s supposed to be like?”

Eren nodded stiffly.

Historia was quiet so long Eren wondered if that was the end of it. Or if Ymir would wake up and throw her dysfunction into the mix.

She snored away, relaxed enough to make Eren feel like he was intruding in his own living room, and Historia spoke. Slowly. Not looking at him, and not seeing the floor her gaze had stopped at.

“It’s like they’re safe,” she said. His ears strained to catch the words. “They don’t know all of you, and you don’t know all of them, but they decide you belong, because they have a piece of you inside of them. No matter what happens, you’re part of them, so whoever you are is allowed.”

Historia refocused on him. Uncertain, but present. Awake and nudging herself back into the crook of Ymir’s neck, prompting a sleepy, muffled squeak that Ymir would hate Eren hearing. Historia kept going, and he kept listening.

“When she found out what I did…” Historia stopped. Her eyes shut. “Ymir said that it only made sense to cut out family who called themselves that without really being it.” Her eyes opened, and inexplicably, she smiled. “It was the worst thing anyone had ever said to me about him.”

“She was right,” Eren said flatly.

“Yeah.” Historia, nestled comfortably in Ymir’s death grip, added, like she was reading something off their grocery list, “I think that’s when I started falling in love with her.”

Historia was the only person he knew who made things like that sound real. Like Armin when he was tripping through tanbark with a new library book, talking about things neither of them had ever seen. Without the sparkle. Just a weird truth that was never going to be anything else.

Eren swallowed down the limp, rubbery balloon of bristling rage, and let the ground come back to him.

“My mom says I have to tell him I want things to be different for them to be,” he said. He didn’t point out that no one ever had to tell Zeke anything about scheduling games, or filling team rosters, or booking rooms in pizza parlors for parties he didn’t even like.

He’d done that in group, with water dripping down from his ears loudly enough to disguise the grate of the whining.

“You could invite him to lunch,” Historia said, void of inflection.

“Dinner’s weird enough.”

They fed the silence together for a bit. The same waiting cluelessness they’d shared before he cared she was a person. A little less quietly than everything else, Historia said, “I still can’t talk to Frieda.”

“She’d like hearing what you said before,” Eren said. “You could just say that once in a while.”

Historia pressed her head into Ymir’s chest. “I think every time we talk I remind her of everything that went wrong.” The frown lines in her forehead shaded in. “She wants me to forget even though she can’t. I can’t think of anything to say that would stop that.”

Eren fiddled with his shoelaces, scuffed with baseball dust. Frieda’s face—too much like Historia’s, too much like his mom’s, too much like Ymir’s—carried all those memories with her every time she walked through the door. The haze of hot chocolate brought it out even when she wouldn’t.

“Mom said,” Eren said, prodding the knot his cleats wouldn’t let go of, “the reason things were never okay with Dad and Zeke was because Dad couldn’t think of a way to fix things.” He ripped the knot free. “So he just went forward without trying. Zeke never got over it. There wasn’t ever a real reason for him to.”

A million and one scenes could play out from their childhoods, over and over, of Eren and Zeke, big brother and little brother, mother and step-mom ruffling their heads, and Dad wouldn’t ever fit right.

He was only the missing piece to the smaller version.

“They look alike,” he said suddenly. “I don’t look anything like him, but Zeke looks like my—our dad. A lot. More when he still had a beard. He started shaving after rehab.” Eren kicked off his cleats, rolling them towards the front door. “I don’t know why he never did that before. He hated it whenever someone said something about them looking alike. Any time someone brought Dad up around him, that was all they ever talked about. He hated it. He hated him.”

“…Did you?” Historia asked.

“No.” Not once. “I had a good dad.”

One Zeke had never wanted and wouldn’t ever know.

Eren could feel it. The thing, way beyond the broken leg and hate. The thing that said there weren’t enough pills in the bottle his mom picked up for him. The bottomless loss that people kept thinking Zeke could understand when he never would. Pain.

He dug his palms into his eyes and willed the tears away before they could force him into the kind of sobs that Ymir wouldn’t be able to sleep through. His hands felt like sandpaper over his cheeks.

The couch creaked, and through the spots and blur, Eren could see Historia switching her perch from Ymir to the edge. She kept one of Ymir’s hands, holding it to her neck like she was expecting a noose around her throat.

“Frieda had a good father too,” she said softly. “He’s not what made us family. She is. He’s just why we met.”

Eren’s fingers threaded through his hair. Like his mom had earlier, when she pulled at his ear and told him growing out his hair wouldn’t grow him out of making his life harder than it had to be. Or like Zeke did the first time he helped him put on a helmet. “When did Frieda decide on you?”

Historia toyed with Ymir’s hand, and hesitated just enough for Eren to catch the crack in her voice. “When she found out about me.”

Fresh tears sprouted, and Eren coughed in choked surprise. “Yeah,” he said, “that sounds like her.”

“Yeah.”

Maybe Eren should have headed to the kitchen and started the hot chocolate before sitting down under Benjamin. The impulse to get up and do that now instead of letting the suffocating emotion in any deeper ran as thick as the embarrassing thought that Frieda herself would have been even more of a comfort.

Ymir snorted, making both of them jump. Somehow that pulled Historia even deeper into her arms. Eren didn’t think either of them minded, even if Historia did squeak at the proximity change. Or maybe Ymir whispering her name after was what did it.

They were a million times worse than Hannah and Franz ever were. It should have been disgusting. Ymir being so happy was still weird. Then Historia being happy at all was a relief, and something in all of it evened out.

“So when are you gonna tell Ymir you’ve decided on her?” he asked her.

“When I establish my personal boundaries,” Historia mumbled into Ymir.

They hadn’t bothered leaving many lights on for their nap on the couch together, but that Ymir glow never needed much help. Eren could feel a smile on his face twitching to match the shine in hers.

“She’d probably say yes if you asked her out.”

“Mm.”

“Holding off this long starts to make you look scared.”

Ruffled, the parts of Historia not completely buried in Ymir leveled an unimpressed scowl at Eren that mostly said he was right. “I’m working on it,” she said frostily. “Like you’re working on talking to your brother.”

Eren clapped his mouth shut and returned the scowl through the superior glint in Historia’s eyes.

Somehow, it felt like one of his lighter ones.

----

“See? Right there?”

Movies used to be a weekly thing for them. New ones. In theaters. They’d sneak in their own candy, find the thing no one else was watching, and jump into the front row. They’d done it so many times the staff at five different theaters knew them by name.

“I… no?”

There were things about it Eren had forgotten.

“You—what?” Armin blinked several times, looking between his phone and Eren. He enlarged the blur. “What about now?”

He was vibrating, flush with indignation and exclamation points in his eyes.

He was an Armin Eren hadn’t seen in over a year, and Eren would have gotten thrown out of a hundred more movies to find him again.

That didn’t do anything to clear up what it was Armin thought was worth getting thrown out of this first one. Eren leaned in closer to the phone to humor him. The black on black blur, helped by Armin’s fingers one more time, leaned in back, turning into a clump of pixels.

“It’s… a backpack?”

“Yes!”

Eren sat back in their bench, basking in the warmth of Armin’s enthusiasm, and strangling the lingering guilt trying to creep up when it felt too much like home. “Is the backpack important?”

“No, it’s what’s in the backpack—look, there!”

The blur stayed a blur.

Armin stayed vibrating, bright as a star.

“I don’t see it,” Eren said.

Armin’s finger poked the center of the blur. “It’s a power cord,” he said.

Eren tilted his head to the side. A small sliver of shadow, just barely caught in the picture, was directly under Armin’s fingernail. Enough to maybe be something, and Armin, who’d noticed enough to pull out his phone and snap off a dozen pictures, said it was something. There wasn’t much room for argument.

“They were running around the house for an hour,” Armin said. “The room they barricaded themselves in had five outlets. The jump into the lake messed up most of their phones, but he didn’t swim. His just ran out of battery, but they didn’t edit out his power cord from his backpack! You can see it.”

Armin furiously unzoomed from the image, bringing back the full, grainy shot of the giant screen they’d been sitting six feet away from. “They didn’t even try to hide it. And it wasn’t on purpose! This is right after they dumped all their bags out on the table to see what they had, and the power cord wasn’t there. Look—” Armin flicked away from the photo and on to a video of the main character swinging his backpack on.

Eren, obediently, looked.

The black backpack swung by the light, the camera angle switched, switched back, and—

A power cord.

“That’s pretty bad,” Eren said, looking at the tiny set of pixels no one but Armin was going to notice before a home release.

“It’s ridiculous,” Armin said. He settled back in the bench, frowning furiously at the small video that had yanked them out of their seats.

Eren didn’t know how he’d forgotten this part. He remembered him, and Armin, and usually Mikasa, and the candy, and the sticky floors, and the way Armin’s eyes would light up when the previews started. He remembered excited plans to see whatever was on the posters in the hallways, and him and Mikasa standing back and letting Armin teach them everything there was to know about the thing they were about to watch.

He remembered it all being so normal he never even thought about remembering it.

Then Armin’s phone was going off in the front row, and he was buzzing more than it could, and a million hushed arguments with ushers played back in Eren’s head.

“Oh.”

Eren shook himself back, where Armin had stopped buzzing, and was looking at him. The voice inside that called that dangerous took a second for him to stamp out. Armin was great practice. Sometimes too great. “Oh?”

Armin, with the same uncertainty Eren could hear when he asked about seeing a movie, smiled, and pocketed his phone. “I don’t want you to feel strange about it,” he started, “but… you’re smiling again.”

In a move that made Eren glad Mikasa couldn’t make it, his hand went up to his mouth and checked. Instead of the deep etches the mirror usually caught, there were smooth, relaxed lines that perked up at the corners.

“Oh,” Eren repeated.

The bench dug into his jeans. Armin’s gentle, smiling hope was impossible to look at, and Eren’s ears were bleeding from the strain of that beam shining right on him.

“Sorry we didn’t get to see the end of the movie.”

“It’s fine.” Eren took a breath and told the truth. “I’d rather hang out with you anyway.”

Awkward. Unless Eren burned everything to the ground one more time, they’d have things fixed and perfect before he ever got used to it. Armin wasn’t awkward. Armin was what made all the fog in Eren’s head clear out.

Right now, they were both fog, and Armin’s arms wrapped around each other like snakes under his red face. “We—uh. Maybe it’s a bad time,” Armin said, “but since we’re talking about movies, I still have your DVD player.”

Oh.

Armin rushed through the next words. “You—I was borrowing it when—so it’s in my room. I know you and Historia don’t have a TV, so it’s probably not easy to watch things. I could bring it over, if you want? Or maybe, if you wanted, since there’s time now—”

“No.”

He could hear his heart beating louder than the word. Armin still shut up like he’d screamed it.

He wasn’t smiling anymore. It felt like a personal failure. Everything from his mouth down was made of boiling sludge that was more useless for explaining why, for saying sorry, for all the yelling he wouldn’t do, and Armin was sitting there doing nothing wrong.

Eren took a breath. Somehow.

“Some other time,” he said. Like a person.

“Sure,” Armin said. Like the bullet he dodged was inside him anyway.

Awkward had been better.

Eren didn’t want to be ‘like’ anything. He wanted to make it all the way back.

“What do you want to see next?”

Armin’s head jerked up from boring a hole in his knees. “Huh?”

“We didn’t get to finish the movie, and I don’t think they’ll let us back in,” Eren said, keeping his voice light and steady. “If this one’s a bust, what do you want to go see instead? We’ve still got an afternoon to kill.”

He didn’t have anyone to blame but himself for the cautious way Armin looked at him. Rabid animals bit. No one in their right mind wanted to stick their hand through the bars, and Armin was Armin. He had every kind of sense and several more besides.

Just not the one that kept him away from Eren. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Armin popped off the bench. “If we hurry, downtown is screening Rear Window this week?”

It took a second. Eren’s footing felt as slow as his brain, fragments of speech catching up to him like scooped shells out of a tide pool. He could taste the salt before any kind of response skittered out of his mouth. “Again?” he asked, the tease hollow but close enough to count. So he counted it. “How many times have you seen that?”

The sun came out on Armin’s face, too open to hide the relief backing his smile. “It’s a classic, Eren.”

“It’s why Mom took our telescope away.” Easier. Less hollow.

More like how things were meant to be. In that moment, watching Armin’s eyes glitter and his pace pick up until he was practically skipping, it was like they’d never been anything else at all.

The goal wasn’t supposed to be to run back to exactly how things were. Eren wasn’t an idiot. He knew that wouldn’t happen. Even when Historia figured her stuff out and didn’t want him interrupting couch time anymore, things weren’t going to bounce back to him and Armin lying upside down on their cramped balcony while they argued over which movies got to stay on their list.

But running down the sidewalk at Armin’s heels, chasing down the rest of their afternoon, Eren felt like some limb he’d been missing had snapped back into place.

[next]

[oneandahalfwolf]

a very happy birthday to the mun behind @bloodsorceress​. i hope you enjoy this little drabble and have a fab day.  

“So, what do you guys think the new student is going to be like?”

Iley raised her head briefly to look at Mika’s grinning face before going back to her stretches with a slightly exasperated, though begrudgingly fond, shake of her head. She loved her friends, she really did, but sometimes they were so typically vapid it made her miss the snooty students at her old French High School. She never thought the ‘California Valley Girl’ stereotype she had seen in so many American movies could be true. Even if only one of the trio of girls was actually from that area.

“I heard he’s some street dancer kid from England or something,” Evie, the one Californian in the group, responded. Mika’s grin only grew, swinging one leg over the other from where she sat perched on an amp, leaning back as if posing for a swimsuit photo shoot.

“Well...” the blonde drawled in her, surprisingly natural, posh Oxford English accent, “maybe that will give us something in common.”

“Pump the brakes blondie,” Paige, the group’s native New Yorker, interjected. “You’ve not even met this guy yet. You have no idea if he’s even going to be into you.”

“Who could resist me?”

“You want the whole list?” Iley said with a raised brow, her French lilt peeking through her generic American accent. Mika immediately pouted while the other two girls quickly broke into giggles. Eventually the blonde rolled her eyes and leaned forward, blue eyes fixed on the short brunette.

“Well what do you think then ‘Ley?” Iley gave a half shrug, shifting her body to help Paige with a partnered stretch.

“I don’t have any thoughts. I’m waiting until whoever they are arrives and we actually meet them before making any assumptions.” Evie scoffed.

“God you are no fun shortstack.”

“Well,” Paige said, grunting slightly as the stretch pulled at her muscles, “whoever it is, I heard he was fast tracked all the way into second year. Didn’t even have to audition or anything. Got plucked straight out of whatever school or street corner the Headteacher saw him at.”

“As long as we don’t get a fucking Step Up situation,” Evie sneered, picking at some fluff on her leggings. “I am so not up for that whole fusion bullshit.”

“Open your mind Evie,” Iley said, finally getting up from the wooden floor. “Maybe you’ll actually learn something.”

The other brunette scowled and opened her mouth to argue, but was cut off by their teacher entering the room, clapping her hands to get their attention.

“Alright class, alright class, please get in formation.” The woman waited until her students had lined up before carrying on. “As you’re all probably aware, we shall be having a new student joining us today. They will be arriving shortly after the Headteacher finishes their induction. In the meantime I don’t want us lazing about waiting for them, so everybody get into pairs and begin basic warm ups.”

Iley immediately partnered up with Paige, not in the mood for anymore of Evie and Mika’s gossiping, and followed the rest of the classes lead in starting their exercises. Fifteen minutes later they were on a water break when the door to the studio opened, their teacher greeting the Head immediately. The brunette had her back to the door, busy taking a long drink from her water bottle, but heard every word that was spoken.

“Good morning class.” There were a few echoes of ‘Good Morning Mx Kader’ before the Head continued. “This is Benkai’l Brandr and they will be the new student joining your class today.”

Iley’s head snapped up, not taking in any of the rest of Mx Kader’s welcome speech. That name. It couldn’t be. Her eyes went to the full length war mirror and focused on the new figure standing beside the headteacher. She gasped, her bottle of water slipping from her grasp and falling to the ground almost in slow motion.

They were older. Taller. So much taller. But the eyes were the same. Grey like a stormy afternoon. Skin was still as pale as snow and smattered with freckles. Freckles she used to play connect the dots with when they were four.

Her water bottle hit the wood floor with a loud clatter making everyone look her way, but she didn’t care. She simply turned sharply and openly stared, mouth agape as she tried to form words.

“Noc?”

The new student, who had been staring at the fallen water bottle, looked up at the name. Eyes widened, brows raising towards black hair.

“‘Mira?” came the mumbled reply.

A sob escaped her throat as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. The room was silent, everyone confused at the turn of events - with some even starting whisper.

It was broken as Iley sprinted forward towards the other teen, crossing the floor as fast as she could. The new student dropped the duffel bag from their shoulder and easily caught the brunette as she leapt at them. Her arms wrapped around their neck as her legs went around their waist, the two seemingly not strangers fitting together almost like a puzzle piece. Like they had been made to be two halves of one whole. The whole class could only stare as they pair spun around, the movement so fluid it looked like a step from a contemporary dance number.  

Iley started to sob into the much taller teen’s neck. They smelt exactly the same. Like fresh paper, burnt wood, and lilacs. One of her hands reached up and cradled the back of their head, fingers fisting the red beanie that was between her palm and their hair, pulling it off slightly. Not that her old childhood friend cared. They were just over the moon that she was here, in the flesh. Tears silently streamed down their own cheeks, feeling completely overwhelmed. But why wouldn’t they - their wildest dream was coming true right now after all.

Eventually Iley finally, though reluctantly, eased herself down off of the taller teen. However one hand remained clutching at their hoodie, fist pressed against their lower back. She swiped at her tears with her free hand, unable to take her eyes off their face. When someone finally broke the silence she had to look away.

“Um… Iley?”

Brown eyes landed on Paige and took in that the whole class was staring at the pair. The brunette cleared her throat, free hand going up to fix her dishevelled hair.

“Sorry. Sorry. This is… We were...” It was difficult to get the words out without crying all over again. “This is my best friend. We used to dance together as kids until I had to move away. We haven’t seen each other in ten years.”

A chorus of understanding and awed noises came from the surrounding class. The Headteacher cleared their throat, a strange smile on their face - almost like they had known and a plan had come to fruition, the twinkle in their eyes adding even more mischief to the expression.

“Well that is a wonderful happenstance. I suppose I shall leave you now however. I hope you can catch up soon, but remember; class first students.”

They nodded to the other teacher before taking their leave. The dance teacher gave the Head a wave before turning to the still pair still locked in what could be seen as an awkward embrace, but the two teens simply looked at ease more than anything.

“So um… Benkai’l wasn’t it? Why don’t you introduce yourself properly?”

“Uh...” The taller teen pulled the beanie Iley had loosened from its perch on their head before they rubbed nervously at the area. “Yeah, I’m Ben. I have danced lots of different genres over the years. Jazz. Tap. Contemporary. Ballroom. Currently though I’m mostly Street and Commercial. I’m majoring in dance here on a scholarship, whilst minoring in backstage and technical theatre. I’m originally from Scotland before we moved to Poland, and now I’ve come here for school.”

Iley grinned. She knew the Polish lilt they had under their Scottish broag had seemed stronger. Much like how her own French one had become more distinct since she moved to that country, theirs had done the same. And now she knew where the hell they’d ended up. Though she was sure there was more to the story. Something she couldn’t wait to find out.

“Well it's lovely to have you in our class Ben. I’m sure Iley can keep you right on how we work.” Iley gave a fervent nod, unable to stop herself from grinning. The teacher smiled before giving a clap and turning to the rest of the class. “Okay then, now we have all been introduced, let’s get back to work. I want you all to be on your best behaviour and perform your heart out for our new family member.”

Iley immediately dragged Ben over to the class side, ignoring the stares from her friends and other classmates, still unable to believe her eyes or let go of them in some capacity until she absolutely had to. Her childhood friend couldn’t help but laugh quietly even as they struggled to remove their hoodie. It was too cute. Besides they were more than happy to keep the girl close. Iley’s three girl friends could only continue to gawk. They had never seen the other girl like this. So.. happy.  

Class had to continue but all parties couldn’t wait until lunch to hopefully get some answers to their burning questions.

***

“What happened?”

Ben rubbed their hands free of salt and grease, swallowing the last of their mouthful of fries before clearing their throat and leaning forward, resting their forearms on the edge of the table.

“There was a fire. Three years after you left. Arson. Everyone’s fine though. Mostly property damage and a few minor injuries. But we had to go into Witness Protection. Change names and move away. Everything happened so fast we either lost your address or it was burned in the fire. I was… I was so heartbroken. I think I cried every night for a month. Mama tried to comfort me, and Tata tried to find you online, but we came up blank.”

“Three years after I moved?” Iley asked, moving back from where she had been leaning her chin on the lid of her drink. Ben nodded, frowning slightly. The brunette laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this. Three years after I moved to England there was some bullshit with my grandparents. We had to go back to France to sort it all out. I wrote to you with the change of address, but obviously it never got to you. You wouldn’t have been able to find us cause we’d left the country.”

“Holy shit.” Ben shook their own head, chuckling in disbelief. “I can’t believe we were so unlucky.” Iley reached over and took one of Ben’s pale hands in her own, running a thumb over their knuckles.

“Hey,” she said softly, waiting until the taller teen met her gaze. “We might have been unlucky then, but we are fucking lucky as hell right now.” Ben chuckled, squeezing Iley’s hand.

“That’s an understatement Princess.” Iley grinned before letting go and grabbing a few of her fries from the table.

"So how are your parents?"

"Good," Ben replied, reaching for their burger. "They all adjusted quickly to the change. I mean Matka and Tata grew up there so they helped when we were confused, plus we'd already been learning Polish since I was wee. Mama and Matka opened a cake shop. Matka does most of the business side while Mama bakes. Papa got a job as a mechanic, while Tata went to work as a tour guide. He loves it cause he gets to wax lyrical about all his favourite places." They swallowed their mouthful and shook their head again. "They aren't going to believe I found you. I can't wait to tell them."

"Same with mine," Iley responded. "When I wasn't getting any letters back from you I got so worried, even more so when some started coming back. To be honest at one point I thought you hated me cause I moved further away, but Maman reminded me that that was likely impossible. Said 'Noc would be more likely to forget a step in your best routine than hate you.'"

"She's right." Ben leant forward, elbows resting on their table and fingers interlaced as they looked at her with a critical gaze, though there was a light twinkle in their eye. "Okay so, we know why I changed my name, but why did you change yours."

"Oh, right. Sorry," Iley replied with a wince, realising she had slipped up. Ben waved it off, that lopsided smile she had missed so much still on their face. "Well for me… Short version is, the crap with my grandparents put a sour taste in my mouth and I didn't want anything to do with them, name included. I brought it up with Maman and she agreed to let me change it, as did Papa and Dad. She was sad but she understood. They've all been really good with using this new one."

“I still can’t believe you picked that name.”

“You’re one to talk,” Iley said with a laugh, leaning over and gently punching them in the shoulder. “I guess… It just fit. It was our favourite book as kids. I mean we used to play pretend all the time, acting like we were the fabled Wolf Prince and Water Princess. Hell we based our best routine on that story.” She gave a shy shrug. “I dunno, I guess I thought if I picked that one then I’d be a bit closer to you in some way.”

“To be honest,” Ben said quietly, “those were my thoughts exactly when I picked mine.”

Iley reached across the table and wrapped her left pinky around Ben’s right. The taller teen smiled and completed the link. Brown and grey eyes just stared at each other for a long while, looking much like a happy romantic couple - even though that was far from the truth. The sound of the door to the fast food joint opening broke the moment.

“I told you she’d be here!”

Iley looked up to see her three girl friends followed by the two boys of their small group - Nate and Jackson. She groaned and collapsed back into her seat. Ben’s brows furrowed and they started to turn in order to look round, but were interrupted by Nate hopping over the back of the booth to sit next to them. Their nose wrinkled as he stole some of their fries. Paige slid in next to Iley while Mika took a seat at the end of the table.

“So this is the new kid?” Jackson asked as he and Evie moved into an adjacent booth. “I hear you and Shorty here are an item? Or were at least very cosy in class.”

“Shut the fuck up Jax,” Iley yelled, trying to drown him out and earning a few glares from some of the other customers. Jackson simply smiled and ignored her, attention still on Benkai’l.

“Well? Are you hitting our little dancer?”

“EW!”

“NO!”

The two answers came simultaneously with almost identical looks of disgust. The other teens couldn’t help but laugh.

“She’s my best friend and my sister,” Ben said, squirming a little at the awful thought still in their head. “I love her, but not like that.”  

“So that means you’re available then?” Mika said with a salacious smile. Ben shuddered slightly.

“Sorry but I’m not interested.” The blonde flipped her hair and shifted in an attempt to show her cleavage to the other teen, smirking whilst she lowered her voice.

“Are you sure?” She batted her eyes. “If you give me a chance, I’m sure I can make you interested.” Iley couldn’t help but snort a laugh at the look on Ben’s face.

“First off I’m asexual so I’m not just not interested in you, its everyone. And second, no offence, even if I was interested...” They paused, face scrunching up as they tried to think of a nice way to put the next part of their sentence but came up blank. “Sorry but you look like one of my mothers.”

Mika’s jaw dropped as a roar of laughter went around the table. The blonde’s face turned a deep shade of red as she sank back down in her seat. Nate was the first to find a new question.

“Wait, mothers as in plural.”

“Yes,” Ben said slowly, brows furrowed.

“Nice.” Paige reached across the booth and smacked him across the side of the head.

“It's not like that. They’re with my Dads too.”

“Oooh, four parents. They have you beat Iley.”

Another round of laughter filled the table, one Ben managed to join in on. Iley was happy to see her newest friends accepting her oldest one. Though to be fair if they hadn’t, she would have dropped them easily for Ben.

“Can’t believe you guys came here.”

“You were the one who skipped out our usual lunch when there was new gossip to be had.” Iley rolled her eyes at Evie

“I dunno, maybe because I wanted to privately catch up with my childhood best friend who I haven’t seen in ten years or spoke to in seven.”

The bickering around the table continued until they had to return to class, and continued still on the walk there. It was too early for Ben to get fully involved but they felt like they had at least been accepted into the group. They were happy to just watch them all interact. Most of all they were happy to watch Iley being so animated and joyful. They were glad she had found that without them. But now they were more than ready to make up for lost time. Starting with some dancing.

[theholycovenantrpg]

In the beginning was ARIANNE ALTIER, a GIFTED loyal to the cause of the MORTALS. She is said to be TWENTY-FIVE and uses SHE/HER pronouns. In this New Testament she serves as a MEMBER of the ROUND TABLE. Blessed be her name.

THE INDELIBLE MARK.

 It came as no surprise, her ability to stop the beat of a person’s heart - to paralyze the entirety of their body so that they were at her complete and utter mercy. It is with a wrench of her gut and twist of her fingers that she renders her victims completely and utterly still. She is able to isolate the muscles and organs, paralyzing them as she sees fit. However, these powers are capable of being developed further and come with dire drawbacks if she overextends herself, that being a great weakening and slowing of her own heart. It makes this gift a great disadvantage when engaging, unprepared, in combat. As all who have suffered and survived the Blood Plague, Arianne’s scars are obvious and unsettling: she looks as though she has been struck by lightning, her veins branching out, colored in different hues, changing in the light.

THE HISTORY.

Few know what it is to be loved and adored - and even fewer know how to wield such emotions like a blade. It was not a difficult skill for her to learn, doted on and besotted as she was by her mother and father. They did not love one another, but it was easy for them to lavish their affection upon their youngest daughter, swaddling her in the finest silks, spending upon her money that they did not have; to her they gave the love that they could not give one another. She was not theirs, not by blood, but she was their favored daughter all the more - giving to them what they could not have themselves, an heir to be proud of - lavishing their affection upon her came as naturally as it had to their first-born. It was difficult not to when her eyes were so large and beseeching, cheeks painted with an ever-present blush, voice so melodic that the larks of the trees had to silence themselves so that they might catch the notes of her words. Although, as she grew she realized that it was because they had given their hearts to another before they had laid eyes on each other: her mother to the man she had known as her best friend, her father to the man that he had once hunted with before fate took him too quickly and too soon. Though they were proud of their eldest daughter, there was no denying who was the apple of their eye and who held their hearts captive - and as she grew older, she began to see the advantages of collecting the hearts of those around her like lightning bugs within a jar. How she adored seeing the way that they glowed when she cast her gaze upon them, eyes widening in adoration, lips curling into enigmatic smiles. Why would one want for anything other than her unabated happiness? For her unparalleled and ever-wanting joy?

Imagine her confusion, then, when the girls’ father decided to hide the jewel known as Arianne from the world. In the shadows of trees of the forest she found herself buried, hidden away like a magpie hides their shiny little trinkets - with jealousy and covetousness. He called himself a hunter, but Arianne saw him for what he was -- paranoid to the point of insanity, demanding that the girls prepare for a war that might never come.  Each day at twilight he would have them hunt for the creatures that he considered abominations, those tainted by divinity; the scourges upon the earth that should have never tainted its soil. He would not allow food to fill their bellies until they had awarded him with a prize, and it is in this manner that the Altier girls found themselves formed and it was during these years of isolation that they learned the value of wit and cleverness. One was the bait and the other was the snatcher, the two of them becoming so attuned to one another’s glances that they no longer needed to ask who would play what role that day. Yet he did not find satisfaction in this, could not bring himself to give his daughters the commendation they deserved -- instead it seemed to drive him deeper into his paranoia. He could see the horrors that lurked around every corner, but he was blind to Arianne’s ceaseless contempt for him. 

On her eighteenth birthday, her and her sister stood over the final corpse that they would drop upon the well-worn doorstep. Bloodied and broken was the corpse of their father. It had happened in the midst of their fever - the Blood Plague had swept over them, silent and sudden. Arianne had wept when the symptoms first became clear, scarlet stains on her cheek while Romilda hushed her and frantically tried to stave off the inevitable: the moment that their father realized how cursed the daughter that he had once adored truly was. He had barreled through the door, his hands painted a rich and vivid scarlet from the hunt of the day. Fevered as she was, Arianne saw him awash in red - the blood painting his brow, his neck, his face. She saw the ghost of her mother behind him, screaming out in horror - calling for her, for Romilda, to run on winged feet. In a haze, in a dream, Arianne saw his hand wrap around her sister’s throat and in the next moment, her father was skewered upon the fireplace poker, her pale hand wrapped around its hilt. She watched as Romilda finished the gory task. Arianne blinked as she looked about the room, stumbling back to her cot in her stained nightgown, a curve hidden at the corner of her mouth. What a family the Altiers made, awash in strokes and flecks of red. She had entered this world beloved and bloodied - how poetic it seemed to be that her birthday should be marked in much the same way. 

They travelled from one town to another, leaving whispers in their wake, all fawning over the enigmatic beauty that was Arianne Altiers. There were those who thought she might have the blood of celestials running through her veins, soft and winsome as she was, the slightest glance of her eyes felling all, so that they might kiss the ground upon her feet. They were all too happy to, aiding the Altiers in their climb in society until the Holy Land knew of their names before they had stepped foot upon its cobblestone streets. It was then that she realized the power that she held at her fingertips, and how it had long been smothered and stowed away due to disuse. But now, though, Arianne was all too aware of how pivotal such persuasion could be. If she so willed it, the Mortals that had long been quieted - just as she had been - could very well take the city for their own. If she so willed it, the demons could run amok in the streets, the angels could rule with an iron fist...if she so willed it. Arianne learned how to wield the affections of the people even more adeptly than she had ever learned to wield a blade. Cut yourself then, she whispers, cut yourself on the blade of your own adoration and paint the world scarlet for me. 

THE CONNECTIONS.

ROMILDA ALTIER & REVNA VOLK: The Trinity. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb - and they are bound by the blood that stains their hands and the water that they shared as they grew older. They spilled the blood of their father, embraced their sisterhood as though they were two parts of the same soul, and embarked upon the journey of their Fate together. It came as no surprise that when they realized the gifts bestowed upon them by the Blood Plague reflected their counterpart nature. Where Romilda blisters like the sun, Arianne stirs the soul like a full moon, where the elder Altier edges her words as bluntly as her blades, the younger sweetens hers like honeyed cakes. And when Revna entered their lives, it was as if the stars of the skies began to populate their world, adding to it a wealth of novelty and color. Revna and Arianne have taken to one another like kindred spirits, revolving around each other with a gravitational pull only witnessed in the celestial bodies of the sky. Together, the two of them fostered and cultivated the growth of one another’s gifts -- exercising the extent of their power and, in turn, seeing within one another the weaknesses that would have made others turn away. With Romilda’s determination, Arianne’s magnetism, and Revna’s ruthlessness, it is a wonder that the entirety of the universe has not fallen under their thrall already.

JASPER RICHE: Looking Glass. There is a kinship between them -- not something that ties them together, but a bond that sits between them like something primordial, twisting them together regardless of how they might pull or tear away. They see one another for what they are, recognize within each other the parts that others glance away from for fear of repulsion. Arianne does not bother to turn away, but is instead far more interested in studying the weaknesses in him that she might find in herself -- so as to rectify it. And it isn’t difficult to see that Jasper is assessing her, gaze sliding over her so as to probe at what lesser people might deem as “flaws”. It is in their sameness that they find comfort, and it is within their sameness that they find the singular threat to their ambition. When they regard one another, it is with the same disposition that a lion might regard a wolf. What an ever-present temptation it is, to rip one another apart.

NERISSA: Flint. They are the flint that Arianne will use to set the world aflame. There is something volatile about Nerissa that Arianne wishes to cultivate, to utilize and make her own. There is something in Arianne that Nerissa seeks to refine, to hone until one need only to glance at her and realize that they are bleeding through and through. Whenever they encounter one another, there is a careful dance that occurs between them, each of them learning new ways to move about the other. Whether they like it or not, Nerissa has found herself taking Arianne into her tutelage -- they debate and they spar, they challenge one another in nuanced ways that surprise Nerissa each and every time. Though, in part, they might admit that the majority of their interest lay in seeing how far they can push Arianne before the little Gifted girl balks. And, if Arianne were to be honest with herself -- she is curious to know what horrors she might be shown before she balks as well.

ASMODEUS: Entrapment. He had seen within her the ceaseless potential and wished to carve it, to make something of it. Where she walks, he finds his eye perpetually following -- drawn to her like a sinner is drawn to blasphemy. She was a sparkling, beauteous piece of marble and he sought to shape it into a vision so breathtakingly stirring that all might fall to their knees before it in awe. Arianne couldn’t blame him - she knew how skilled she was and how much further she had to go; she would not let hubris be her downfall, as it had been for so many others. Which is why she had not let her blindness keep her from seeing the truth of the matter: Asmodeus was under her thrall far more than she was under his. Though he had sculpted her, she had stepped off the pedestal upon which she was placed, and lorded over him the singular beguiling enchantment that a muse has over their artist. He has done all, but fall to his knees before her -- there is no doubt, though, that he will soon do that too.

Arianne is portrayed by Yuko Araki and was written by ROSEY. She is currently TAKEN by MINNIE.

[therovingstar]

Like Flowers Aflame

Summary: “I took your kill.” He almost starts when she calls to him, turns her head, and meets his gaze across the distance between them, still poised as he is on the wide steps. He questions which strikes him first: her dark eyes, ringed by a fire all their own, or the mild smile playing about her lips. She shrugs a shoulder. “Sorry.” 

Hien x WoL (pre-relationship), <2700 words, fluff and feels, mild descriptions of blood.

@ffxiv-writers

AO3 Link

It is pandemonium, still, throughout the city and beyond its walls. Soldiers, leaders, resistance volunteers; dozens cross his path without him once being able to put a name to a mien. ‘Tis little surprise; he and his are the foreigners here, and there is no one who would recognize his face anymore than he would theirs. There are exceptions, of course, in a precious few, but they are justifiably occupied with the small matter of their nation’s new freedom.

He knows the feeling well. He should be with his own, miles away across the seas. And yet…

Lyse was a beacon in red, waving them down in the crowd. “I saw her earlier,”she said, “helping the other healers. Then I heard she went up top.” The young woman pointed above her head, and he followed her finger to the top levels of the Ala Mhigan palace, gleaming white and smoky gray against the blue, early evening sky.  

“For what reason?” Yugiri asked. Lyse shrugged.

“Something about sussing out the aether in the atmosphere? Making sure that primal doesn’t show back up, presumably. We’ve already removed Zenos’ body. Guess it’s a precaution.”

That was all he needed to hear.

“My lord, where are you going?” Yugiri called to his back. Hien looked back over his shoulder, offering a bracing grin.

“To retrieve our hero, of course.” And before anyone could respond, he rallied himself and disappeared back into the bedlam.

He should be with his people now, or at least crossing those great waters to return to them. And he will be, come the definitive end to this day of revolution. But first…

The Gyr Abanian sun begins its descent in earnest as he traverses the residents’ quarters and approaches the palace. It paints everything in shades of orange and gold, from the stone buildings to the cargo wagons to the dented armor of Garlean machina and the torn uniforms of Alliance soldiers. For a moment, one can almost ignore the carnage of the day, so effective the dusk is at casting it all in gilded hues. It makes him yearn for the sight of the Ruby Sea at such a time, when the waters are burnished with a fire to rival Hell’s Lid.

How surprised he is, then, when he enters the palace under cover of chaos, climbs the staircase, and steps foot onto the shore of another kind of sea entirely.

There is a garden aflame. Hundreds, thousands of them, pink and red and white blossoms swaying as if from the tips of candle wicks under a breeze that teases his cheeks and the white fur lining his collar. Water gleams in golden pools bordered by white marble and teeming with green leaves and lotus.

It is beautiful, a landscape painting turned reality, and made a portrait by the lone Raen woman standing at its center, still as a sculpture.

But first, I wish to find her. See her, speak with her. Just for a moment.

What a ruler he is.

“I took your kill.” He almost starts when she calls to him, turns her head, and meets his gaze across the distance between them, still poised as he is on the wide steps. He questions which strikes him first: her dark eyes, ringed by a pink fire all their own, or the mild smile playing about her lips. Odzaya shrugs a shoulder. “Sorry.”

Hien blinks once, perhaps twice, before he bursts with a laugh.

“Aye! I suppose you did!” He approaches, his steps light, and stops several fulms away from where she stands bracketed by blossoms. “‘Tis fitting, I think.”

She looks surprised. “Truly?” Skepticism coats her gaze and tone as she turns in his direction.

“Truly,” Hien confirms, and crosses his arms, considering. “Zenos yae Galvus took much from me, certainly, but I am hardly the only one. Every Doman, every Ala Mhigan, every person who lost a home or a loved one or a livelihood to the Empire’s greed and his supposed ennui…they all deserved a chance at his head.” His gaze finds the place where the man in question’s body fell; his spattered blood still shines unnaturally jewel-like under the evening sun on the marble, as well as the petals of nearby flowers. Beautiful in the most morbid of ways. He grins suddenly, and looks at her. “My heart warms knowing that you thought of me, however.”

“A brief thought as he attempted to eat me, yes,” she admits, half sarcastic. Hien chuckles.

“Conqueror of Bardam’s Mettle and proud samurai I may be, but I know well that my skills paled in comparison to the man who felled my father, renowned swordsman that he was.” His grin widens. “I could not have hoped to defeat Zenos with my blade any more than a farmer with her hoe or a merchant with his silver tongue.”

“Give yourself a touch more credit, ‘Fire Walker’,” Odzaya replies, a thick purple brow lifting as she smirks. “You would at least do better than the merchant.” Hien guffaws, and her expression turns curious. “Speaking of silver tongues, whose was it that convinced you to come all the way up here?”

“I looking for you,” he answers easily, “of my own volition. Lyse mentioned something about your doing aether surveillance.”

Odzaya shakes her head. “Nothing so pedantic; I’ve not the tools on hand, nor the patience to use them. I was merely satisfying my own paranoia, more than anything.” She shifts back to her previous position of facing the far end of the gardens, and Hien follows without thinking, unwilling to resist his own curiosity. Soon, they both stand on the site of the Garleans’ last stand, where Zenos’ primal – Shinryu, he overheard it called – was previously bound. “Here is where it is most concentrated,” she tells him. “Feel it?”

He does, slightly. Sees it, as well. A strange thickness to the golden air as it enters his nostrils, barely visible undulations of sickly green at the edges of his periphery. A taste on the back of his tongue, just this side of bitter. He cannot hone in on any of it, distant sensations that they are and try as he might, but it makes his skin itch, his lungs reluctant to expand for what they may suck in. He looks beside him to find Odzaya’s eyes closed, her nose lightly wrinkled. Little doubt she senses more, for better or worse. “I will say,” he begins, crossing his arms, “I am glad we have not to compete with such creatures in Yanxia.”

“Mm,” Odzaya hums in agreement. “Be glad they’ve taken so much to these lands, instead.”

Hien thinks, then grins. “Ah, but then we have no Warrior of Light, either. Perhaps it would be a fair trade to deal with the occasional evil being knocking down our doors, to have one such as yourself in our regular company.”

She snorts once, and her smile, having disappeared beneath her concentration, returns. “Selfish.”

“At times,” he replies, and grins wider at her profile. “As we all are.”

They share silence, then, but for the wind through the blossoms and the gentle trickle of water. If he strains, he can hear the din down below, but up here, they seem separated from it all. It reminds him of the Azim Steppe’s plains, where malms of grasses stretch into infinity. Where one could seemingly chase the horizon forever and never encounter a soul.

He misses it. Here, however, with her, it feels as if a small fragment of the feeling has returned to him, even on this foreign soil located on the other side of the world. A power she gained as khagun, her connection to the land allowing her to carry its essence with her? Or merely a power she has all her own and over him, to conjure fond recollections of those days that were as fraught as they were halcyon?

“On the Steppe,” Odzaya begins suddenly. Hien mildly startles, thinking for one impossible moment that she read his mind. Then she continues. “There is a belief, that to interrupt a hunt is to interrupt fate. It is a sacred bond, that of two souls opposed. Predator and prey, seeker and sought. A matter to be left to the gods and the gods alone.” She opens her eyes and shrugs lightly. “A silly thing to consider perhaps, given what soil we are on and my extensive record of solving others’ problems. But…”

“But?” he encourages.

“But unlike those others, who gave me their blessing to act in their stead,” she says, and looks up at him, her sun-red gaze keen beneath the clean cut of her braided bangs, “you did not. And I recognized the desire in your eyes when we fought together in the Naadam and in Doma. To meet blades with those to stole so much from you. Regardless of your chance at victory.”

I see. So that is her quandary, then, and why she has brought it back to the fore, despite his assurances. Hien sighs, thoughtful, and absently rests a hand on the hilt of his katana. “You are not wrong,” he answers honestly. “A large part of me longed to meet the man on the battlefield. Partly for my father, as well as my countrymen. But also for the sake of my own pride.” He huffs once in amusement at his own foolery, and his thumb plays with the catch, teasing a release of the blade. “Would I be able to hold my own against the warrior no other has? T’was a question I could not help but ask myself, however ridiculous.”

“I took away your opportunity to find out,” Odzaya says, her gaze somewhat regretful. Hien laughs aloud.

“Fret not, my friend! Regardless of our blades never meeting, I received my answer well from the ‘hunt’ I witnessed between the two of you.” He takes his gaze to the palace’s tower and surrounding spires, a broken beacon still smoking in the aftermath of their duel. “I could scarce imagine besting the man, let alone a beast of the magnitude he became.” He sobers, and his smile gentles. “No, I am content to have had you there in my stead, and the stead of all those who suffered from his deeds.” He faces her fully, then, and makes a show of bowing low. “Just as it was my honor to have you at my side during my country’s liberation, so it is my honor to have had my personal hopes met by your hand.” When he straightens, only to be met with her widened gaze, he grins broadly once more. “I daresay you are performing your role well. ‘Tis a khagun’s duty to fulfill the wishes of her people, no? And from what I’ve gathered since arriving here, you have many outside of the Steppe.”

To his surprise, the woman scoffs lightly. “As if they would know the title.”

“I am here, yes? And Lyse, as well as a contingent of the Xaela who chose to take the journey here in your name.” He thumps a fist to his armored chest in a warrior’s gesture. “We will inform them.”

Odzaya shakes her head emphatically. “Keep the knowledge to yourselves, if you please. The last thing I need is more unnecessary ceremony. They already make too large a matter of me on this side of the world.”

“Can you blame them?”

“Yes,” she replies bluntly. “And you and Lyse for making it worse if you talk.” When he merely shrugs in answer, she narrows her eyes and angles herself toward him once more, her mouth pursed. He notes the medic’s uniform she wears, identical to the one worn by others he saw about the field but for the extra padding about her torso and arms, her armored boots, and the white and red cloak clasped at her neck. An attempt to make her abilities known, perhaps, while still blending in. Frankly, it fails. She still stands out like a lone lantern in the dark, not just for her scales or the vibrancy of her hair, but for the understated grace and power with which she carries herself. Like the blooms around them, he reckons, his eyes absently finding them; far hardier than they look, for all the epic battle that just took place here put them through. Even the ones that bore the brunt of Zenos’ bloody collapse have sprung back up in a way the warlord definitely did not, bruised but otherwise unscathed, and no less beautiful.

His gaze returns to her, and his smile, for a moment, turns inward. “Fitting,” he says again, this time as a murmur to himself.

“You said that,” Odzaya replies. He forgets about those keen horns sometimes; even Yugiri still blindsides him with all she manages to hear. “Still thinking about it?” she inquires.

“Just wondering what it is like to face a dragon in combat,” he says, in effort to cover his momentary daydreaming. To his surprise, she answers immediately.

“Hot and messy,” she states with all confidence, as if it is a knowledge she is intimately acquainted with. “And terrible-tasting. The blood gets everywhere.” She absently licks at the thick width of her bottom lip, and Hien splutters before he can control himself.

For every substantial thing he learns about her, like her gift for healing or her war-torn past or her casually rubbing shoulders with some of the most prominent figures on either continent, it is the smaller things – the fact that she sharpens the decorative edges of her staves and adores children and has apparently tasted dragon’s blood – that set his heart racing for reasons he is not quite yet willing to ponder.

“I suppose we’re done here. You did come to retrieve me, yes?” Odzaya makes the first move for the rooftop’s exit, her cloak billowing briefly outward with the abrupt spin of her heels. Hien comes back to himself with a small shake of the head, and she lifts a brow. “Are you alright?”

“Aye,” he says, pasting an easygoing smile on his lips. “Perhaps it is the aether, along with the hectic events of the day. My attentions seem to be scattering themselves.”

“You did come a long way,” she replies, and pauses, turning to face him once more. When next she speaks, her voice is softer. “Thank you, for the record. For doing that. Coming.” Hien’s smile widens.

“I said I would come,” he says with gentle conviction. “T’was a promise, yes?” Odzaya shrugs.

“Crossing an ocean is a long way for a promise, especially for a king with a country.”

“I could not well leave my khagun to do battle alone,” he half-jests. “A small difference we ultimately made, but it was a difference, still. And it was the least I could do for what you did for me and mine. And what you have done now.”

It is practically nothing, for all that she has done for him. A hundred years he could spend in attempt to repay her, and he fears he would still fall short. It says something, he thinks, that he still wishes to try.

“Well, you have my gratitude,” Odzaya says, and lifts herself briefly onto her toes, her head lowered just enough for her locced bangs to cover her eyes. A gesture of shyness, he inexplicably recognizes, having seen it last on the Steppe, when her family made such a fuss over her return to their midst. The realization brings that earlier inward smile to his face in full, blatant force before he can stop it.

“As you have mine,” he returns. Their gazes find one another again, and when she returns his smile, it is warmer than the sun on his face.

He dares to think he would cross another ten oceans, just to bask in its heat as he is now.

A hundred years. Ten oceans.

Small prices to pay for her eyes upon him.

[minddofbecka]

(long) gc fic rec

All The Days Of My Life by rilla - 41k

It's 2016. At the end of the band's last tour, Zayn and Harry get married in Vegas. It's not the worst thing that's ever happened to them, but it certainly comes close. Half fix-it fic, half woke up married.

Trust Me by alnima - 78k

Zayn has trouble trusting Harry to catch him when he falls, but Harry is determined to be there no matter what it takes. Part 1.

Stay With Me by alnima - 173k

Zayn and Harry could never get it quite right. And now isn't any different. Except it is. Part 2.

and you and i were fire, fire, fireworks by trishapocalypse - 21k

espresso yourself yeah?? I stopped by there today

YOU WERE? what time??? maybe I saw you???

oh it was like half-eight? had an early class and all

oh ): i was hoping maybe you were there when i was… woulda been like fate, huh??

(Or: the one where Zayn is drunk and lonely and Harry is a number graffiti'd on a loo stall door that Zayn texts. A lot.)

like a sledgehammer by colourexplosion - 5k

Harry’s a good flatmate otherwise. He doesn’t ask questions when Zayn leaves without telling him for a few days and comes back looking refreshed and a bit younger than before. He doesn’t burst into Zayn’s room unannounced and he respects the fact that Zayn doesn’t go out during the day unless it’s absolutely necessary.

And if he’s figured out Zayn’s a vampire, he’s never brought it up.

Or, Zayn's a vampire and Harry's his human roommate.

let me be the one who calls you baby by alnima - 8k

“You look lovely, you hunk of man meat,” Harry declares, winking at Zayn.

Zayn blinks at Harry, his movements stilling for just a second before he continues to crawl into bed. He settles back against the pillows, wets his lips, and says, “What did you just call me?”

“Hunk of man meat,” Harry repeats, and it sounds kind of silly the second time that he says it.

“Right, I thought so."

Dancing On My Own by rilla - 59k

A Four Weddings and a Funeral au. Zayn and Harry keep meeting at weddings over the years, and slowly fall in love.

baby i’ll never leave if you keep holding me this way by estrella30 - 10k

“Does he have your mark?” his mum asks. Zayn shakes his head. He’d looked at Harry’s wrist explicitly for the edgings of Zayn’s family crest but couldn’t find anything. Not that that means Harry’s not the one; it might need a touch or connection to come to the surface. Zayn’s not sure he wants to find out though. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to know for certain.

“Ah, well. It could be coming,” she adds, and Zayn shrugs. She’s silent for another moment, before quietly adding, “You could pick him, you know.” She sounds thoughtful, distant even. Zayn wonders what she’s thinking about, what she’s remembering. “If you want to that is. I know you’ve not been looking for your mate Zayn, but maybe this was what you needed. Maybe you needed your mate to find you.”

or - Zayn is an immortal modern times non evil sexual incubus who is reluctant to find his mate. And then he meets Harry.

all that is gone and all that’s to come by greenandgolden - 10k

Once upon a time, Zayn’s Instagram had been littered with photos of Harry. Some of them together, some of him alone. One of Harry sleeping in Zayn’s bed, his face a bit puffy and his hair a wild mess sprawled across Zayn’s pillowcase. Pictures of them with each other’s families from holidays and birthdays, everyone with smiles on their faces and their arms wrapped around each other. Most of those photos are saved on Harry’s phone, hidden away because he couldn’t bear to delete them but at the same time he can’t stomach looking at how happy they were together versus how miserable he is now that he’s alone.

a post break up au

i fall in love whenever we meet by leighbot - 5k

“You had on operation on your back, babe. D’you not remember?” the man says as he reaches a hand out to rub gently at Harry’s chest.

Harry turns back again, feeling queasy with all of the movements. “No. I’m sorry… are you my doctor, too?”

“No, I’m not your doctor. My name is Zayn, H. Do you remember me?”

“Zayn,” Harry repeats, enjoying the way the word buzzes at the tip of his tongue.

Or, the one where Harry has temporary amnesia after surgery; he doesn't need his memories to know he loves Zayn.

He Feels Like Home by moonstarwrites - 21k

Under the impression that he would never meet his soulmate because others in his family faced the same circumstance, Zayn married Perrie and built a life with her. While that life wasn't anything out of the ordinary, it would do. Then, Zayn met his soulmate, Harry.

Love Is Blind (and darling, right now, I can’t see you) by purpledaisy - 35k

Harry had squeezed his eyes shut pretending it was real for the moment, that Zayn was actually his. Still, it doesn’t matter if the lights flashing behind his eyelids were the brightest they’d ever been because Zayn must have had his eyes wide open just waiting for it to be over. - Written for the prompt: pretend boyfriends

Boy with a Coin by Archangel_Blood - 29k

A piece of paper falls out of the bundle, and Louis snatches it and starts reading before Zayn can prise it off him.

“He’ll have eyes as green as frogs.” Louis arches an eyebrow at his brother. “Very romantic, Zayn. He’ll wear sparkly boots and he’ll be marvellously kind. He can juggle, and he—four nipples?” Louis barks out a laugh. “Zayn, such person doesn’t exist!”

“Exactly!”

Slide

by thisonegoes - 87k

Zayn's dad explained it to him in a small speech, the day she was born."No one prepares you for it. There aren't any manuals. Sometimes being a good parent means simply keeping your kid alive. Keep them breathing, make sure they're safe, love them until you could burst with it. On days when everything feels especially hard, just remember that your kid is Number One. Everything else becomes secondary. Less than. Minuscule by default. And believe me when I tell you this: when she eventually paints you a picture, sings you a song, does a cartwheel... always be sure to clap. If you're proud, make sure to say so."An AU about being a father, having faith, and growing up.

What If This Storm Ends by Archangel_Blood - 18k

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Harry does actually know how to take a hint; sometimes he just chooses not to. It’s not that he particularly enjoys disappointment, but he can deal with it. What ifs, on the other hand, those are the paper cuts and grazed knees that seem like nothing much, yet they take forever to heal, itching and stinging and driving you mad.

Give It All Away To You by disarm_d - 10k

“Zayn’s got love at first sight,” Louis says. “Again.”

University AU in which Zayn and Harry figure out how to give each other what they want.

we can take the darkness by leighbot - 72k

“I’ve met the guy and he’s always making eyes at you when you’re not looking.”

“No, he isn’t,” Zayn dismisses, finishing off his second glass of water. “I would have noticed if Harry ‘made eyes’ at me,” he says, using the air quotes. “We’ve been best mates for over three years.”

“That’s why I said: when you’re not looking,” Griff repeats. “It’s like you’ve never seen a Sandra Bullock movie.”

Zayn rolls his eyes and stands up. “Harry Styles and I are best friends,” he says, loudly and clearly. “Nothing more.”

Entangled Arms (or a vacant space) by vinoharry - 43k

When Harry first approached him at the bar, hips swinging and walking dick first, Zayn thought it was going to a night of perfunctory small talk before they fell into bed together. But Zayn got so much more than he bargained for.

new clothes, bloody nose by dutty (vodka) - 22k

The one where Zayn is an escort and Harry happens.

a sky full of stars by weddingbells - 20k 

In which Harry Styles is a librarian and Zayn Malik reads lots of books, and Harry pines and Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan tries to help him to get the boy who might be the boy of his dreams, and Harry just wants to know everything about the tattooed angel he can't stop thinking about. Basically.

You Might Just Be What I Need by PornyZiallFeels - 47k

Saw Zayn again today

Figured you would that’s the thing with dot n his daughter being mates

Runnin into him might become a regular thing now

Fuck me

your love is a waiting game by alnima - 26k

It’s been four days without Harry and Zayn’s feeling brave. He loves him, but he’s not waiting for him, not anymore. If Harry can’t love him – won’t love him – then he’ll find someone else.

When All I Want Is You by estrella30 - 9k

The flat is small. It’s tiny and cramped and nearly everything that’s inside is either broken or on its way to needing to be fixed. They’re never going to fit all of their things here, and will be in each other's faces every second of their lives.

Zayn absolutely cannot wait. It’s tiny but it’s theirs. It’s going to be theirs.

When Harry moves out a year later and Zayn’s left alone, the flat’s never seemed so big.

or - Zayn and Harry move in together and don't have a lot of money and everything falls apart (and then gets put back together)

where did the party go by shuttermutt - 34k

"…insofar as the two parties who want to wed should decide to do so before they have both reached the age of eighteen (section 1.ii) they will have a period of one year henceforth to decide if the marriage is fruitful and if not, they shall be allowed to part as if having not been married in the first place…" Section 2 of the 'Romeo and Juliet law', passed into law in Britain and its territories, 1803

They duck into a tattoo parlour that’s halfway between the city centre and Harry’s mum’s and Zayn gets two black lines carefully inked onto his left ring finger. He smiles up at Harry while it’s being done.

"It’ll last forever," he says. "Just like us."

Conspire Against the Odds by whatwasthatharry - 38k

“Louis?” he asks, eyebrows knitted together as he tries to process what just happened.

“Yeah, Z?”

He sounds tired, and Zayn finds himself wondering if it's because it's clear something is weighing on Harry..

“Is everything okay with Harry?”

(A story in which Zayn meets Harry during their senior year of college and immediately becomes infatuated with him. But Harry disappears most nights, and it's clear he's hiding something. Zayn wants desperately to know what's going on, but no one seems to want to tell him anything.)

In A Flash by hmarie - 24k

Zayn found Harry slouched in the corner of the destroyed nursery. His hands covering his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. The white crib Zayn had spent five hours making sure was put together 100% correctly, flipped over and smashed to pieces. Zayn had to step over the crumpled blue bedding in order to even get to Harry.

“I can’t do it anymore, Z.” Harry’s sobs tore their way from his chest.

Zayn’s fingers trailed across Harry’s cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears. He cradled Harry’s face between his palms as a few more tears slid from his own eyes. He slowly nodded. “Regroup, we can do that.” Zayn let his forehead rest against Harry’s as he gently leaned forward to capture Harry’s lips. “Let’s get out of this room.” He quickly stood and pulled Harry with him.

Or- Harry and Zayn give up on their dream but Gemma won't let them.

you can drive all night by liquidmeasure - 25k

"Harry needs someone to guide him, to tell him where to put each part of himself. It feels right somehow, and lately maybe something more than right, because sometimes he catches himself contemplating intentional accidents, just to see if Zayn will come running, where he’ll touch Harry. An elbow, a shoulder, the curve of his waist."

Harry doesn't know where to put his parts. Zayn helps him figure it out. Louis yells a lot.

Million Dollar Man by soyane - 50k

Harry is a student, who'd much rather focus on writing articles and participating in conferences than working to pay for his bills.

Zayn might have a proposition for him.

What If This Storm Ends by Archangel_Blood - 18k

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Harry does actually know how to take a hint; sometimes he just chooses not to. It’s not that he particularly enjoys disappointment, but he can deal with it. What ifs, on the other hand, those are the paper cuts and grazed knees that seem like nothing much, yet they take forever to heal, itching and stinging and driving you mad.

Once upon a different life by withbatedbreath (heart_eyes) - 45k

Zarry version of The Vow

When it comes to love you're an easy fight by orphan_account - 11k

AU. Harry never really could say no to people.

Hands All Over by blainedarling - 8k

“Point is,” Louis leans over the back of the sofa. “Point is, that Harry Styles has got a very good bum. And I feel very confident in saying that having seen it up close and in person now, too.”

The room goes very still, and quiet. Even Niall stops eating.

“What was that?” Zayn asks, as calmly as he can manage. This is Harry Styles they’re talking about. It’s not like he’s got a crush or anything, but— He might have gotten off to that photo of him on holiday in the tiniest of tiny yellow shorts more times than he would care to admit.

“Harry Styles,” Louis replies coolly, his eyes twinkling. “Was signing off on his pre-exercise questionnaire upstairs when I was on my way down.”

—or, the one where Zayn tries and fails to massage his celebrity crush without getting massively turned on.

Tight Lips and Cold Feet by mmaree - 17k

He remembers an intensity of feelings but not a lot of words.  He recalls drunken laughter with mates, sunny days and shy smiles, shit weed and tattoo parlours, cold sheets and burning touches.  Harry recalls a fantasy where real life took a backseat, where all that mattered was that they were young and alive.

At some point, Harry got scared.  He needed something he could hold on to, something he could be sure of.  But the more he dug for reassurance, the more Zayn clammed up.

And the more they f*cked.

Maybe Zayn saved his words for his books when he should have spoken them aloud.  Maybe Harry should have ended it better instead of running away like a coward.

Then again, maybe he should just stop dwelling on the past.

Or the one where Harry gets cold feet.  Three years later, Harry’s an editor and Zayn is the new writer he’s been assigned to work with.  

They have a lot more than just a book to work out.

Readiness is Near by greenandgolden - 13k

“Morning everybody, sorry I’m late.”

Harry looks up from his tablet, his heart dropping when he sees Zayn walking into the room. He’s heading for the desk in the front and no, this is not happening. Harry did not just douse his professor in coffee. He did not just give his professor his shirt and his phone number.

A teacher!zayn, (adult) student!harry kidfic.

hey moon (please forget to fall down) by leighbot - 7k

He spots a tape on the nightstand on his side, next to a glass of water and two small paracetamols. Zayn, watch me is written on a sticky note and Zayn smiles, confused, as he scoots closer to the edge.

Or, a 50 First Dates AU.

on the line by alnima - 32k

Zayn nods and watches him, feeling like he should feel relieved. Mostly he’s worried. It’s a silly thought, but sometimes Zayn wonders if Harry has some boyfriend across town that he goes to see on nights like this, nights where the air feels different between them. And because even after six years, it’s never made sense to Zayn why Harry, a salesman, needs to spend so much time at the office at night. But who is he to have suspicions when he’s about to head out and deal with some drug trafficker across town?

Or, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the Zarry version

[quiltipcanines]

Witch’s Ladder

There is a hill, somewhere dark and grey, sheltered by an immovable blanket of thunderheads. In the shade of the world, only three trees grew. A towering rowan with orange berries like snake’s eyes, an apple bent low with fruit still young and sour, and the third was long dead, with bark scraped clean and salt soaked deep in the wood. The roots of the trees were old, inseparable from the hill itself, and they were all covered in blood. A young coyote had been too cock sure when he stole into the chicken coop and he had left with a bullet in the breast instead of food in his belly. 

As the coyote lay on his side cradled in tree roots struggling to breathe, an audience was filling the auditorium of branches. The murder of crows had come first. They were alerted by the sound of the gunshot and if anything was needed when that bullet hit its mark, it was family. From the great grand matron, to a chick just old enough to fly, there were sixteen crows and they took up in the rowan tree. Shortly after a stellars jay arrived with the glint of the stars in its eye and the dew of dawn still glittering on its blue crest. It had seen the shot happen, and would not leave a dying creature in its last moments. It flew down to the lowest branch of the leaning apple tree and perched with one foot on a burgeoning fruit and the other on a branch still tipped in the last flowers so it straddled the point where there was no turning back. 

Blood had begun to spread in a halo around the coyote by the time the third and final bird arrived. It was a flicker, with black feathers spread upon its breast like the blood spattering the poor creature it perched above. It landed with a hollow thud in the tree that was long dead and the echo spread down through its roots and deep into the ground. The bright chirps of the flicker hid the last tolls of the coyote. 

Together they were eighteen, and they listened to heed the final words of their cousin. 

Before they could begin, a scrabble interrupted their silence. Heavy footfalls unearthing clods of dirt on that lonely hill preceded the arrival of the last mourner. It was a child, shot through beyond flesh and blood to the soul underneath. All they were was tatters and it was a miracle that they had held together for this long. They managed one shakey step at the top of the hill, then another, before collapsing next to the coyote. The last gleam in the coyotes eyes sparked as he met the child’s glassey gaze. 

“We are dying.” Said the child. In the moments before the child arrived the crows would have agreed, all from the oldest to the youngest. The jay would have agreed, for it had seen it, and the flicker would have agreed, for it felt it in its breast deeper than any other sorrow. The coyote, with the taste of defeat the only thing left on his lips, would have agreed too, but not now. 

“Which of our wounds is more permanent? Which is the most final?” the coyote said through long, bloody teeth. Blood bubbled up from his chest as it spoke, but the question was worth the cost. 

The child was empty, and so, so full. Nearly suffocated under the pressure of its confinement in its false body. The truth of themselves had become broken and twisted beyond what it had originally been. It had been so long since the child remembered the form they took, they way their body felt, that the truth of who they were was nearly as dead as they were. 

“I am lost. My family has forgotten me, and I have forgotten myself. I do not know the teeth in my skull or the way the wind would run along my body. All that’s left is the shadow of myself, a negative space where I used to be. What point is there in life for something like that?” the child spoke with a voice that was more akin to the third echo than the first speaking. 

“We remember.” said the crows. 

“As do I.” Said the jay. 

“The trees have seen you and we live among them. How could we not?” said the flicker. 

The coyote laughed, ignoring the way blood gurgled in its throat. “The trees remember you. They drink my blood now, and tell me all about your grand forgetting. “ The coyote could feel deaths’ arms swing wide, ready to catch it in its fall. With the molten spite and rage still pumping in its heart, the coyote reached out. “I refuse to die in failure, to die in loss. I will offer you a bargain, child. There is no stopping my descent into the grave, but if you have forgotten your teeth, take mine. Bite for me, tear into the flesh and blood of your enemies and give them no quarter. Bury me and eat for me. Taste richness I could never imagine and chew your food thoroughly.” 

With a low growl echoing in its throat, bubbling up through the blood filling its lungs, the coyote opened wide to display it pearly, jagged teeth. The child spared only a moment to look into the coyote’s eyes and see the grim determination and utter conviction of its offer. With a confident hand, they reached forward and pulled the teeth from the coyote’s mouth. The sharpness of the cainines sliced across their palm but they did not falter as they pried the teeth out one by one, and more of their blood began to mingle. The child’s palms were red as the petals of poppies by the time they began to slide the treasured teeth into their own mouth. For a moment it seemed like they would not all fit, that they would be too large and grand to fit their own purpose, but with each tooth added it became clear that they would have fit all along. 

“You have forgotten your wings, child. I can see the scars of where your feathers were plucked. They broke your hands to keep you from flying.” said the oldest crow if a hoarse croak. She peered down at the child, weak as they were like a new-born chick. 

“We shall be their wings then. I shall give you the deepest black of my feathers and so will my siblings until your shadow is cowed by their darkness and obeys. Nothing shall keep you from the skies ever again, and you will be as eminent and unstoppable as the night. For this favor you must always remember your family. Keep us fed and we shall keep you in kind.” In a great flurry of wings, the crows descended from the rowan tree and landed on the child’s arms and back. They began to pluck the feathers from their wings and lace them into their arms. Though the crows gave up their feathers, their own wings did not seem to diminish. They were spared in their sacrifice as spirits as free and generous as theirs would never be grounded. By the time they were done the child’s arms were transformed into broad, black wings that were deep as the void that swallows the horizon between land and sky. When the child spread them for the first time, they felt lighter than they knew possible. 

The child looked over their wings and held them close before looking up at the birds one more time. Muscles that had not been there previously were sore from disuse and ached to spring into action “My bones remember these, I can tell, but how am I to fly if I can’t see where I’m going? It has been so long I do not know how to recognize the landscape of my home.” 

“I will teach you to see, I can do that much.” said the Jay. It glided down before the child and brought its head back. There was a sharp burst of pain in the child’s forehead as the Jay pecked at it, and a trickle of blood traveled down the child’s brow. It fell into their eyes, casting their vision in red. As they tried to blink it away dark shapes began to form and the truth came with them. The cut widened as the Jay pecked on and on. Each drop of blood that fell into the child’s eyes brought the truth into focus. Finally the eye that had been grown over was free and its lids tore free of each other to blink ragged ends. “That eye was stuck, only looking on the inside- you know? How good were you at seeing the layers of yourself? With that eye open you can see all the layers of the world, but it takes time to find the edges. Sometimes things that should line up don’t, but that does not make it less worthy.” said the Jay though a crooked beak. 

The flicker was a timid friend of the child, but not so timid as to never look them in the eye. It watched what the child did for others and each act of kindness brought it closer. Now, sympathy bled black from its breast. “You have lost so much, your form, your sight, your knowledge, but you still have one thing now that you had then; yourself. You still bear the wellspring from which all parts of you spring. With enough strength of spirit and will no matter how many times you cut the branches from the tree they will grow again twice over. Grow your will into ironwood. Walk with the knowledge of Persephone that anything lost can be grown again.” The flicker flew down from the salt worn tree and the child caught the bird before pulling it to their chest. The sound of their heartbeats grew louder until it swallowed them both. “You have a primordial sea inside you. Each beat of your heart is the volcanic thrum of magma clashing with cold, nutritious water. This duality of your soul makes earth with all the riches of Hades. Even outside your original container, your seeds grow true. But you must be vigilant to weed out the smothering human lies that break you down into worm food. Tear them out, and if you can’t, embrace the fire as it washes you clean and their ashes feed you. Live with every inhale, and die with every exhale. Any imposter or false idea of you thrust upon you will wither under your harsh extremes. Show them the child your parents raised.” 

One last moment of silence clung to the flickers words before it brought its head back and struck its long beak against the child’s chest. Blood began to flow down the birds beak like sap from a tapped tree. With each strike the child’s heartbeat became a call and response thunder and waves crashing upon volcanic rock. Their veins turned green beneath their skin and blossomed where it split. As though they had been dipped in ink, the child’s hands began to change. The right became a shadow black, velvety soft like a stain of smoke wrapping around their arm, while the left became marble white with immaculate grace of bone china. The ink that stained their skin dripped from their fingers to form long, precise claws that glinted. The coyote could feel a sense of pride in them, for they were a tool of a predator of skill.  

It was odd for a funeral, but a rebirth could only truly come from a fresh death. The child was heavy with the gifts they had been granted and their sinews ached to sit up. Together, these gifts promised hope that the power of the past, or a power of the future, was within reach and that was the heaviest of all. Gently, they reached out and pulled the coyote onto their lap. Their claws did not cut, for this was to be a gentle goodbye. “I will not thank you with words. I’m not leaving you behind here either. I know you now like, well, like the teeth in my mouth. I will thank you every time I bite and tear and chew the gristle of prey and enemy alike. I can promise you that we will eat much nicer things than gristle. Every time I bite and snarl and howl at the moon you will too, right there with me. Part of you may die tonight, but a part of you has many steps to tread still and I will take them for you.” 

A heavy, sputtering huff escaped the coyote as his chest shuddered. All that had taken to bring him to this point was a moment of bad luck in an effort for survival, but the coyote knew a second chance. “It is a promise then. A promise from all of us. You have given your blood and body, and will give your time to satisfy us. As you tear yourself from this human body feed it to us and you shall be free. Feed your family, guard them, and walk them home. See the divinity within yourself and the more you recognize your own power the more it shall grow. Child, be voracious for yourself.” Blood leaked from the coyotes jaws as he gave his final proclamation. 

The child bent and softly wrapped their arms around the corpse. They could feel that the coyote was still with them. From above, the birds watched the embrace. “Pluck the bullet from its chest so its body can be pure.” The flicker said. 

“It has become a seed of transformation, a culmination of the magic here. Use it to guide you and enact your power.” The jay said. 

The child did not hesitate to follow the instruction of their elders. With steady fingers they reached into the wound that felled the beast. Their new claws slipped in with hardly any resistance. It only took a moment of maneuvering before they tapped against something hard and slick. Carefully, the child plucked it out of the wound. The bullet had indeed changed. The metal had turned into a smooth crystal, grey as a stormcloud. As the child shifted it in their claws, the crystal finally caught the light and it exploded a thunderstrike of color. 

“Now then, you have one last job to do. Take him home, child. Practice so you might better know the way. It is time for him to rest.” The matron crow called. 

Again without hesitation the child nodded and gathered the coyote in their arms.  Out of all they had forgotten, these were the only steps they knew. As long as they had that to hold on to, the child would keep walking that path, hopeful that it would lead them home too.

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Rebuilding a Broken Mind, an Orphan Sanders fic

Word Count: 6484

TW: swearing, only a little bit, death mention, murder mention, doctors? patton is a veterinarian, idk if doctors is a trigger but you know better safe than sorry, i wrote thomas as bi and married to a chick but hes dead so like? also patton is pan and likes a chick. patton gets overwhelmed and cries a lot.

Notes: This is my orphan au and i cherish it they’re all such goods.

Pairings: uh none really, thomas and valerie, patton is crushing on my OC.

Summary: “Oh! Um, hi! My name is Patton Sanders, nice to meet you! Um, I’m 20, a veterinarian, and well, I’m an orphan.” Patton lost his parents when he was 15 and had to raise himself and his three younger brothers on his own. hes 20 now, and hes got a job and hes starting to get his life together. Of course with reminders of his parents constantly surrounding him, it makes it hard to really move on.

Oh! Um, hi! My name is Patton Sanders, nice to meet you! Um, I’m 20, a veterinarian, and well, I’m an orphan. I have three little brothers named Virgil, Logan, and Roman! They are so super awesome! Virgil is the sporty guy at his high school, he’s 17 and the captain of like, all of the schools’ sport teams! Logan is my little genius! He’s only 14, but he’s a whole two years ahead and in high school with Virge! Roman is my theatre kiddo, he’s in every arts program at his school and knows how to play just about every instrument at only 9!!! Now, as for me, I’m nothing special, I just try really really hard, so my brothers are safe. I triple timed high school and college so that by the time I turned 18 I had my degree in veterinary medicine. Logan claims I pulled an Aaron Burr by doing this, which I don’t fully understand, but I assume it’s a cool thing. I only did what I had to though, we were already orphaned by the time I started high school, which meant we had no money for college. My high school said that it would pay all my college expenses if I followed the guidelines set, and so I super dashed through school. I managed to ace just about all my classes with some help from my friends and siblings. But that isn’t what this is about. I’m not the focus in this story, I’m just the narrator and eyes. This is a story about 4 kids forced to grow up far too fast. This is a story of the children of the most amazing people. Because when it comes down to it, we’re broken minds, struggling to put ourselves back together.

               Now, to start, we have to explain what happened first. Our parents, Thomas and Val Sanders were out at a college play that a friend of theirs was a part of. Unfortunately, they never made it out alive. One of the people attending the play started a shoot-out with about 5 others helping him. Nearly the whole auditorium was killed. Including them.

We had no living next of kin, so a family friend took us in for a short while before dropping us all off at the orphanage. I will never forget that day. I remember them letting us grab our important things from our old house. I remember crying while holding all my siblings close. I remember having to be dragged out of my home. I remember the looks of pure pity from the orphanage staff. I remember them trying to separate me from my brothers. I remember almost punching them. I remember the name of the staff member who was the only one to understand and let us stay together, his name was Terrance. I remember hugging him before we were ushered off. I remember the confusion from Roman when we told him we weren’t going home. I remember Virgil carrying him around telling him that this was home now, with faux excitement and a plastic smile. I remember Roman thinking mom and dad were still coming back, and none of us having the heart to tell him otherwise. I remember Logan not speaking at all for the next month. But most of all, I remember the broken parts that got littered everywhere we went.

I was 15. Roman was only 4. We were broken beyond repair. At least, I thought we were. I thought for sure that we were going to go straight from the orphanage to the homeless shelter. But I did it. I managed to do something, and it changed our lives forever.

The day before I turned 18, I went through with my plan. I have friends named Joan and Talyn who already had a house due to Talyn’s parents having money to spare. They let us stay with them for as long as we needed. We brought all of our things over and we explained the rules of this new situation. My bros were quick to follow instruction. The next day we officially moved out of the horrible child prison we were owned by. I was already well into my job as a vet tech and was able to fully become a veterinarian the next month due to my boss seeing that I was at least twice as competent as the resident vets. And so, it began.

It was bittersweet when we got our own place, as Joan and Talyn had grown to adore my little brothers in the short year we lived there. But I had finally earned enough money to rent a house, plus the orphanage contacted me, telling me about a very large inheritance we apparently had, which was somehow enough to buy said house. We ended up moving in and used the money I earned for beds and a couch.

Over the next year we bought more furniture and accessories as we saw fit. At the present moment, my room is bright blue with animal posters and pop culture references sprawled about randomly. Logan and Roman’s room is split in half. One side is meticulous with dark blue and black walls and a few nerdy posters, mostly of doctor who and Sherlock Holmes. The other however, was messy as all get out, had musical posters everywhere and usually had the mess all the way up to the metaphorical line. Logan never complained unless Roman’s things crossed it. Now Virgil confused me. I was planning on him sharing a room with me, but he refused, claiming that I needed privacy and rest since I was working full time and he wasn’t. All he wanted was a couch, some bedding, music, and some makeup. Because I’m a stubborn mule, whenever he lets me buy him things, I buy him the most bestest makeup and all his favorite albums, as well as some of the best headphones sold. He gets mad at me, but he deserves the world and more.

Okay, now we’re in the present! So, I might as well start the actual story now. Ok well then. Its Friday morning, today the big game at the high school is happening, which means Virgil has to leave early for practice. By early, I mean about the time that I leave for work which is 6 am.

I get up and make food like I normally do, only doubled because Lo and Virge usually sleep for another half an hour. Ro always gets up with me because I’m his ride to school. Virgil has a motorcycle that he drives himself and Logan to school on. I start up some friendly conversation as we eat, Virgil still groggy from sleep.

“are you ready for the game today? Isn’t it against the school rivals? I hope you guys beat them again, but I’m sure you will with such a good captain!!!” I wink at him as he chuckles.

“yeah, we’ve got this, if anything, I’ve got this, and that’s really the point. Yeah, it’s our rivals, the panthers, today. Not that they’ve ever been a challenge. We’ve swept the floor with them for countless years. And thanks for the poorly concealed compliment. Do we have anymore coffee?” he rambles off answers to my questions.

“yeah, but I don’t get paid til tomorrow and there’s only a cup worth left. Proceed at your own risk.” As soon as I say it, Logan zooms to the coffee and brews it for himself, cackling maniacally (giggling cutely).

“HAHAH!!! You will never get a drop of the saccharine nectar!!! Tis mine, forever and always!” he brushes his hair back with his hand and smiles at us. Roman beams and stands up in a fighting stance.

“thou shalt not loot this poor pauper of his deserved libation!!! Come at me thy villainous fiend!” and quickly the two start playing mock sword fighting. Me and Virgil laugh as Logan gets vanquished and the cup of coffee gets given to V. Logan ends up stealing some still, to my amusement.

We end up splitting up as the kiddos go to school and I head to work. I walk in, put on my coat, and then the place blows up. There is a half dead dog on my table and another 2 that are at least stable waiting. I’m apparently the only actual vet that showed up today. Great. Today’s gonna be fun.

 I’m not gonna go into what happened at work, because honestly, not much happened. It was an average day at work, but now is time for the interesting part!!! So, the big game at the high school is happening today right? Well, let me talk about it!

So, I go and pick up Roman from school and head over to the high school while asking Ro about his day. He learned a healthy amount of animal and plant biology, so I talk about some of the things he didn’t understand and made a few biology puns which were received quite well luckily! When we get to the school, I call Logan to figure out where he had stationed himself. We meet up and find a nice spot on the bleachers. Not long after, the teams came out and started playing. Virgil is easy to spot, not to mention the announcers are constantly shouting about him as he keeps running the ball the furthest of either team. The game is pretty average for the most part, up until the very end. Virge takes the win but not a second after, he gets tackled full force to the ground. I stand up and look over the crowd as I see him up again, shoving the other guy away. The guy gets up close to his face and I think Virgil is going to punch him-oh god please don’t punch him. The guy gets dragged away by the referee and Virgil has a bunch of teammates coming to check on him and I feel much less on edge. I shouldn’t though. As soon as I think it’s done the announcers go quiet and the stands go crazy as Virgil uppercuts the guy and then knees him in the stomach.

“what just happened there?! Kyle, why did Sanders just risk his high school career like that?!”

“Fitton insulted sanders’ younger brother.” Oh. Oh no. Oh HELL NO! Logan stands up and looks in the direction of the guy and visibly shudders. Oh, he’s lucky that V got to him first. Oh, I might be going to jail guys! The rest of this story might be told from prison!

“Logan, do you know that guy?” I ask calmly. He looks at me before turning away.

“um, yeah. He uh, he’s an ex of mine…” I tense up. He’s never told me about him having been in a relationship! He tells me everything! Ugh, that’s not important right now…

“is he a freshman? I haven’t seen him on the team before.” Lo nods.

“yeah, we met at the local library. I didn’t tell you cuz I didn’t think you’d want me to date someone and um, never mind… Anyways, we broke up cuz he was trying to pressure me into doing um, bad things.” I twitch. Oh, I might kill him. I shake my head and take Roman’s hand and start walking down towards the team to pick up Virgil. We get down there and I check up on Virgil, checking for medical issues; he very well could have gotten another concussion. I get distracted when Virgil hisses at something behind me.

“oh, calm down parselhead. I wasn’t even coming over here for you” I hear in a low drawl behind me. “how’s it hanging bookie?”

“first off, I’ve told you what that actually means and that that nickname bothers me, please cease this instant, and second, I’m doing fine how are you Loki?” I hear Logan say calmly.  I tense slightly and turn around with an angry look on my face.

“Logan you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I know for certain I wouldn’t if I were you.” Logan looks at me but shakes his head.

“I can converse with an ex and still be civil about it Pat. It’s no problem.” he smiles softly at me, but I can’t help the anger that swells in my chest seeing the huge smirk that this guy is wearing.

“yeah Patton we can be civil here, no need for this hostility. Anyways, I’m doing fantastic Logan! Thank you for asking! I even have a new boyfriend, one who doesn’t try to keep me a secret.” His voice is contradictory to his words.

“it was two years ago, and I was twelve and still in an orphanage, I didn’t need my older brother worrying about me anymore than he already did. Plus, I barely understood my emotions, how do you think I would deal with my brothers’?” Logan crosses his arms and looks up at him accusingly.

“I dunno, I sorta thought you were enjoying the relationship, but you just ended it for no reason, citing your brother as too intimidating to cross, and neither of them look that scary to me.” He says and I look over to Logan in confusion. He walks closer to him and starts talking again, harsher than before.

“you and I both know that wasn’t what happened. You got pissed off that I didn’t want to go smoke and bang you arrogant prick. Also, I’d watch what you say about my brothers if I were you.” He just smirks while he backs away.

“okay then, I see I’m no longer wanted here. See you round bookie.” He walks away, and Logan shakes his head and face palms.

“every fricking time… I try to be civil but he always… ugh never mind it doesn’t matter. V are you okay? I don’t know what Loki said, but I can almost guarantee it was a lie. Also, he has a ridiculously hard skull, don’t ask how I know that, are you bleeding? Concussed?” Logan looks up at Virgil with a worried smile.

“yeah, I’m sure it was a lie, didn’t make it any less enraging. And no, I’m not bleeding or concussed. You dated him? How?! He’s such a prick!!!” Logan laughs.

“I don’t know, he was interesting. He told good stories and listened to me when I needed to vent. He’s also an incredibly good pillow. Really, he was just, the person I needed at the time, I guess.” He shrugs. Virgil is still watching him leave with an angry glare fixed on his face. I decide to change the topic.

“hey guys, you want pizza for dinner tonight? Food for champions!” the other three smile and cheer. V changes out and we head home, and I hand make three pizzas from scratch the way that we usually like it. Dad loved pizza and he said my pizza was the best, so I usually make it for celebrations or as a pick-me-up. It seems like its serving as both tonight. While its baking I make a couple of announcements.

“okay, so I’m going shopping tomorrow morning, but when I’m done with that, I thought we’d go visit Joan and Talyn? They have some presents for you all.” All three of them look up from what they were doing with wide eyes and smiles.

“YEEEEESSS!!! JOAN AND TALYN ARE SUPER AWESOMAZINGSAUCE YAAAAAAYYY!!!” Roman screams. I giggle as Roman jumps around and hugs me. Logan laughs along with me as he pulls Roman away.

“calm down Ro, Pat is cooking, you can’t be that close to the hot oven. I’m excited too, yes Ro.” Virgil looks at me questioningly.

“why do they always get us gifts? It seems like every time we see them, they have stacks of presents for us.” I shrug.

“well, I sort of introduced my lifelong friends to my 7, 12, and 15-year-old brothers who were sort of helpless at the time. They like me, but they adore you guys. Some kind of cool grandparent syndrome I guess.” Virgil laughs loudly at this as the pizzas beep. I pull them out to cool and tell some more puns to pass the time. The evening goes on without a hitch, we play a round of word association games as we eat our pizza. I pack up the leftovers in lunch bags for the 4 of us and then clean up the kitchen. As I finish with that, Roman shouts for me to tell him a story.

I tell a story of a brave prince who has to protect his kingdom from a fierce dragon witch. The dragon witch had stolen away the princes soon to be bride. The prince fought through many trials to save his fiancé, however he was beaten to it by another beautiful princess who had won the maidens heart instead. The prince was of course fair, as the princess had fairly bested him, and so he went on a mission to love himself before he went around looking for a fitting bride-or groom, again. Roman sleepily cheers and snuggles into a black cat plush V gave him.

The most difficult to get to sleep is Logan, who just wants to read all night. He changes to a different book just as I walk over to his desk. “Lo, you need to go to bed. You want to be well rested for tomorrow kiddo. You can read your book tomorrow, I promise the ending won’t change, and it won’t leave without you.” He yawns, he has had a long day.

“if I go to sleep will you sing for me? Please?” he looks at me with puppy dog eyes.

“of course, Lo. Bookmark your page and go get ready for bed and I’ll sing for you.” He smiles and rushes off to get ready. He’s back in a few minutes.

“can you sing dads old lullaby? If not its ok but-” I cut him off.

“of course, I can Lo.”

“somewhere there’s someone who wants you to be

How they want you to be, their opinion

They’ll paint you the colors that they wanna see

And to them, its Monet,

But to you, it’s a gray, silhouette

So, pick up a pencil, a stencil, a crayon,

The picture is not finished yet

You can let someone else tell you your story,

You can let someone else tell you what’s true

Or you can set yourself free,

Climb the tallest highest tree,

Or maybe sit back and take in the view,

You can let yourself, let yourself do

Anything.”

By the time I finish the chorus, Logan is sound asleep, snoring softly and cuddling an owl plush. I get up, tuck him in, turn off the lights, then head into the living room. Virgil is laying on the couch with his headphones on full blast. I grab his sleep meds and a cup of water and hand them over to him.

“hey, you shouldn’t listen to your music that loud, it could damage your hearing. You don’t have to listen to me, but I just wanted to let you know. I worry about you guys, you know?” he smiles and takes the meds. He turns down the volume on his headphones and nods.

“sorry Pat, I didn’t realize they were that loud. And, we worry about you too. You do way more for us than you have to. Anyways, thanks for the meds and sleep well okay? Don’t stay up all night again.” I giggle and nod before giving him a quick hug and going to my room.

I do a few pieces of paperwork that I wasn’t able to do before the end of my shift and send a quick text to my vet tech Elenora, checking in on her, as she’s been off on vacation and she’s supposed to be getting back tomorrow, and she has some things she needs to pick up at the office. She’s also absolutely amazing and sweet and beautiful and I love talking to her so so much. But that’s beside the point. After I get all of that done, I check the time, realizing that its now 11:45 and I should have been in bed an hour ago. I quickly fall asleep soon after luckily.

The next day is super-duper hectic so like, hold onto your horses, this is gonna be a wild ride! Okay okay, so I get up at 8 and go shopping, blah blah, tons of coffee because my boys and I have a problem. I unload everything by 10 which is when the kiddos are waking up. Virgil apologizes for not waking up to help but I wave him off as I start to make a small lunch because three meals a day, but Joan and Talyn are probably going to take us out for lunch knowing them, so I don’t want us to lose our appetite, that’d be rude! Anyways I set out the 4 plates and eat mine before going to take a quick shower. By the time I shower and change, all three of them are conversing around the table. I smile fondly because, hey, I helped raise these fantastic kiddos! LOOK AT MY BROTHERS!!! Okay, I’m good now. I walk up to the table and they all smile happily at me before going back to their debate.

“listen, if you have straight caffeine you die, therefore this stuff is totally deadly and like, we’re slowly killing ourselves by drinking it.” Virgil says, being devil’s advocate per usual.

“well yes but that’s like chlorine and sodium!!! They are both deadly elements on their own, but together give us salt! Not to mention that even too much water can kill a human! And! Another point, coffee is a natural occurrence just like water!!! In reasonable quantities, coffee is perfectly safe!!!” Logan rants passionately making me glad that I invested some money into speech and debate for him. Roman grins.

“but if water, coffee, and salt could kill us, does that mean that the world is trying to kill all life on it?!? are we living on a death rock?!? LOGAN IS THE WORLD GONNA KILL US?!?!” his grin slowly gets sadder and more scared as he continues. Logan flinches slightly.

“I mean, technically humans have been killing the earth for years so I wouldn’t put it out of the question that that is the reason that everything on earth is potentially deadly to humans. That would make sense… gosh darn it why do you always send me into steadily collapsing bouts of existentialism?” Logan shakes his head likely jumping into one of his existential crises.

“do I want to know the opening remarks?” I ask and they all shake their heads no. I grab a mug and make myself some creamer with a hint of coffee. Heheh!!! Caramel coffee is very good, but caramel mint coffee is even better! Roman runs off to get changed right as Logan goes to take a quick shower. V asks to change in my room which I am totally ok with because of course!!!

Oh! I should say what we’re wearing shouldn’t I? okay okay, so I wear my favorite pair of khakis, which are quite worn from wear. I wear a pun-ny shirt about dogs, and a tan cardigan with black white and purple plaid shirt underneath. I also have some nice black boots. When Roman comes out, he’s dressed in a red theatre shirt, white jeans, and a white fluffy coat, with his favorite white fluff boots. Logan comes out with his talk nerdy to me tee, black ripped skinny jeans, a black fluffy jacket, black boots, and a snap back. Virgil ends up wearing his nirvana shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, leather jacket, and black converse.

Logan sneaks up behind Roman and puts one of his Disney caps on him. Roman gasps because Lo never shares his hats. He tries to give it back but Lo tells him not to. “I got that one just for you Ro, keep it.” I think RoRo almost cries as he dashes into a cute embrace with Lo. Logan giggles as he sees his baby brother smile. It really is the best feeling ever when you can be the cause of a smile.

Soon after the scene of pure wholesomeness, we head on our way to Joan and Talyn’s house. We are greeted by happy faces and a stack of gifts. This is normal I guess, like V mentioned, they always have piles of gifts for us.

“hiya!!! Glad you could make it! We decided to make a big meal instead of going out, I hope you guys don’t mind?” Talyn grins sheepishly. “and we also invited a couple more people. Sorry we didn’t tell you it was a surprise!”

“a surprise? Who’s here?” I ask, looking around them both to see. There are more gifts than usual. And they’re gift wrapped. Oh gosh what did I forget? Wait… what month is it? oops. I might’ve said that out loud.

“its January Pat.” Joan states simply with a growing grin. Oh god, it’s my birthday soon isn’t it.

“happy early birthday Patton-cake!” Talyn yells happily. Yup. Oh, I’m an idiot. I facepalm.

“I’m glad Joan called me on Monday, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten your presents from us and brought them over!” V smirks as we walk in. of course they were all plotting against me, I should have known! As I walk in, I see Leo, Jamahl, Dominic, Dahlia, Kenny, Derionna, Rafaela, calypso, and oh god, how did they get Elenora?!? I don’t think I’ve ever even talked about her to them!!! Not to mention that she must be horribly jetlagged!

“oh my god no way!!! I love you guys so much aaaa!!! How do you even know Elie?!?” I say as I go around giving hugs to my friends from back in high school that I’ve missed so much.

“dude, Els is in a bunch of my classes. She never shuts up about work, so it was easy to find out that you guys knew each other. Not to mention her constant fawning over ‘doctor sanders’” Elie punches Joan in the arm.

“listen here bean boozled, are you gonna keep outing me or are we gonna start this party? I estimate the time between now and when I fall unconscious from exhaustion and jetlag is t minus 4 hours.” She states matter of factly. God, I love her, I’m so far gone.

Joan and Talyn attack me with a hat while I’m fantasizing, and they laugh mischievously as they drag me over to the table.  Joan’s saying something in one ear and Talyn’s saying something else in my other and I’m confused as heck, but all my friends surround me as well as my baby brothers and start singing at me. I don’t even comprehend what they’re saying because my brain can’t remember the last time I had a surprise party, and its actively making me remember my 14th when my dad and mom threw me a giant birthday bash and it was all day long and we fell asleep in a pile on the couch and before I can stop it all the voices start freaking out and I touch my face and I finally notice that I’m crying, and gosh I just ruined it of course gosh darn it they all went out of their way to make this and now I’m just sad and crying. I feel a thud and finally pay enough attention to see Roman hugging me tightly and apologizing. I pat his head and smile at him before kneeling down and reassuring him.

“Ro Hun, it’s not your fault I’m crying, I just remember mom and dad that’s all. I was caught up in my head but I’m fine. I promise ro. Do you wanna help me blow out the candles?” Roman smiles widely and nods. I pick him up and we blow out the candles together. The others all smile and cheer. Joan stands next to me with a smirk. Oh gosh they’re going to have me do something dangerous and I’m gonna agree because its going to be fun and d a n g e r o u s.

“you realize we are stealing you tomorrow to go barhopping right? Els even offered to dd for us! I mean of course, she’s sorta still underage for a few more months, but yeah, you, me, Talyn, and els are going to have birthday bash part two and its going to sick as Fu-” I cover their mouth before they can finish their swear.

“my baby brothers are here!!! No swearing!!! It’ll hurt their poor innocent ears!!!” I see Virgil and Logan give me a skeptical look before I gesture at Roman and I see their eyes widen in realization, before they nod furiously in agreement. Roman obliviously drags Logan off to play with the bubbles that Joan had gotten to keep the little ones occupied. I uncover their mouth and shoot them a look before giving it up for a smile as I hug them.

“thank you for this Joan, it’s kind of you. You didn’t have to really, haven’t even seen you guys in a few months!”

“that’s exactly why we did it. We don’t need a reason to give the littles gifts, and if we have a reason to give you gifts you won’t turn them down. You never have been one for spontaneous presents, but you know what, I love ya man, and you deserve to get shit on your birthday you oaf. I always felt bad that you wouldn’t let me help you and the kids when we were still in high school. God its been so long now, we’re old pat! You know my mom always tells me that they’d be so proud of you whenever I tell her what you’ve been doing. She actually wanted me to give you something, its wrapped in the pile of gifts.” They winked and nodded over to the living room where far too many gifts in my opinion, were sitting. The rest of my friends were there too, keeping themselves entertained one way or another, and I saw that Logan and Roman were running around outside chasing bubbles.

I go over to the stack and feel immediately intimidated. I hear the door open and Roman and Logan come inside. They sit behind me and I grab the first present that I can reach. The wrapping is purple plaid and Virgil’s name is scrawled on the tag. I open it up and look at my brother with a mocking look as I pull out a pale blue lab coat with dog face emojis.

“oh my gosh you dork I love it!!!” I pull it on quickly, seeing how it fits and beam at him.

“I’m glad. You’ve got another one somewhere from me” ugh of course that’s how there’s so many gifts.

I grab the next one with the same wrapping and rip it open only to see a new surgical kit, which I had been desperately needing to get but had been avoiding. They’re ridiculously expensive and I haven’t had the money to spare. I don’t know how vee could have managed to get that much money, and I don’t understand why he would spend it on me. I feel tears welling up in my eyes for the second time today, and launch myself at Virgil, picking him up and twirling him around. I see Elenora look at the tools out of the corner of my eyes.

“holy crap how did you afford these? This set is worth almost a thousand!” Virgil gives a feeble look as I set him down.

“I’ve been saving up for a few months, no big, you had mentioned you needed a new set a while ago, and I know you wouldn’t let anyone give you one. You can’t give this one back otherwise it’d be wasted so ha I win.” He ends with a smirk, and I punch him in the arm for calling me out on my OCD about work.

I grab my next gift which is a deep red with a matching bow. I peel off the paper and see a Pooh bear onesie and I smile down at it before laying back to smile at Roman who is giggling loudly.

“Lo helped me find it!!! I know you love Pooh, so I thought you’d like it!!!”

“he had tried to get you a size that fit him at first it was really quite adorable. We got him a Tigger one to match but we told him he had to keep it hidden until you got yours.”

I reached out for a hug and instead Roman kissed my nose then pushed me back into a sitting position. I huffed dramatically before grabbing my next gift, from Logan. I rip open the striped paper and see a book called animal madness, about animal mental health, and I feel my smile widen. There’s another book, by Jackson galaxy called total cat mojo and I might have squealed a little bit?

“LOGAN, I LOVE THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOSH OH GEEZ THESE WILL BE SOOOOO HELPFUL!!!!!!” Logan smiles and chuckles softly.

“I had imagined so, you have said that a couple of your patients have had mental issues more than physical and you’ve seen them more often due to their owners not knowing how to treat them, I hope the books hold deeper insight than google.”

I give him a big hug, and then grab the next presents, opening one after another all very sweet but also rather irrelevant gifts including coffee, cooking ware, and fandom stuff. I eventually get to Elenora’s gift though, which I was slightly scared about opening if I’m being honest? It could be anything, what would she get me? I open the rose gold box that holds a few different items. The first I notice is a necklace with a four pawprints on them, each a different color, red, navy, cyan, and purple, and each with me and my brothers’ names. I smile softly at it as I put it on. The next thing in the box is a new stethoscope that matched my light blue theme at work. After that is a build a bear Alolan Vulpix plush with an absolutely adorable cloak and a spare outfit. I squeeze it and it sounds so cute??? I’m so glad I share my obsession with Pokémon with her it makes work that much more enjoyable. The next thing I pull out is a dual sapphire and ruby pop head set and I let out a laugh at it, she knows me so well, I had mentioned I loved their characters and that they reminded me of my mom and dad once offhandedly, and yet she’s gotten me ruby and sapphire things three times now. I pull out a gift card to pizza shop I adore, and the last item in the box is a card that says read later, so I throw a glance her way as I put the card in the pile.

I thank her, and give her a hug, before turning my attention to the last present remaining, the present from Joan’s mom, who was basically my second mom growing up. I pull apart the wrapping hesitantly, and I almost let out a choked sob at what is in the package. It’s a letter from my parents. I cover my mouth as I grab the letter and read it.

“dear Patton, we hope this letter reaches you in good health, and that we are still in contact when you reach 21.” I make some odd strangled noise and my eyes start filling with tears. “no matter how our relationship is, we have a present for you. Patton cake, we know you’re only a year old now, but when you get this, we want you to know that no matter what we love you so so much and we want you to be happy no matter what. So, if you’ll forgive us if we’ve hurt you, we want you to have this glass and drink. Your mom made that glass right after you were born. She believes that the essential gift for a 21-year-old was a wine glass and a nice red wine. This wine is the same one I had on my 21st with my father and I saw it fitting to share it with you. I love you so so much son, and I hope you know that you’re in my heart wherever I am. The same goes for your mother. You know me and how paranoid I am, so this will probably be given to you by my best friend who I don’t doubt will grow close to you. In case anything happens, not that it will.” I don’t think I can breathe anymore oh my god this is from my dad- “but anyways ill stop rambling” no dad please keep talking don’t go please! “happy birthday Patton, you make me and your mom so proud. I love you so much” I wheeze and double over, I can’t breathe my dad, it was almost like he was there again, my dad was there and I-

I open the wrap on the glass, the crystal glass has an imprint that has the words “you’re capable of anything” and me and my parents’ names inscribed in it. Etched in, not just printed, its won’t fade, it will always be there. I look up at the roof to stop my tears, and to hopefully tell my mom and dad I love them if there is an afterlife. I wish I could see them one more time and be able to say goodbye. I can’t, but god it hurts so bad, I miss them so much its not fair they should have been able to come home they should be here they should have been here to see Roman and Logan and Virgil grow up it’s not FAIR GOD DAMN IT!!! I need to calm down, its in the past its over I can’t change it I can just keep going. I take a few deep breaths and wipe my eyes. I set down the glass and look at Joan.

“Joan, I need you to thank your mom for me, I-I owe her so much for this I can’t even properly explain just how much this means to me. If she ever needs anything let me know, I will do anything to help.” Joan nods and smiles at me softly.

I breathe a few more deep breaths before standing up.

“now, that’s enough of that. There’s cake and games!!!”

[kirawritesaboutevanstan]

The anchor in their lives - Prologue

Summary: When two super soldiers lives get turned upside down, they move into an apartment in Brooklyn, trying to deal with their past and figure out their futures. So what happens when the apartment next door gets a new resident, one who has the potential to change their lives in ways they could never imagine. The question is; Will they let her?

(I suck at summaries, I'm sorry)

Pairings: Stucky x Original Character Annie (eventually)

Disclaimer:  This story may contain strong language, polygamy sex, mental health talks( anxiety, depression, PTSD and so on. If you're not comfortable with any of those topics, you might not want to even begin reading this series. 

Word count: Around 900

Interested in reading more of my stories? Well you can find them right here

Warnings: This one there has none, it's more of a backstory...

A/N: First of all, Thanks to the wonderfully sweet @holland-stan-posts for all your help with piecing this story together, and of course your neverending support. You’re a babe x

Second of all, this is my first series and I'm very excited about this! I have no idea how many chapters this will be. I'm just going with the flow of the story. 

This will be a story filled with fluff, angst and just anything else I feel like fits.

There will be smut in this, but its no the focus point. No, I really like to focus on four points; 1. The undeniable love between the two soldiers 2. Their struggles with this century and their pasts 3. Annie’s patience and ability to make them feel more comfortable in this world and helping them find their old selves again. 4. The relationship that they each form with Annie and how she helps them shape theirs.

This also follows the majority of the background story of both soldiers, but I refuse to acknowledge Infinity war so it's my own little universe and I will change it however it makes sense for the actual story.

This is a slow burn, so hang in there - I don't want to rush anything.

The first chapter will be posted shortly, let me know if you want to be tagged x

Btw, if anyone wants to make a mood board or something like that, then you are more than welcome. Message me and we will figure out something x

okay, I'm done yapping on now! ENJOY!

Prologue:

Steve’s and Bucky's lives had been turned upside down so many times, both separately and together, that they found it hard to figure out what was up or what was down.

And this time it was no exception.

After the whole situation with the accords (Civil War), everything changed. The team split up into two groups and the Avengers Disassembled. The members scattered around the globe.

Steve didn't know much about what happened to his old team members.

All he knew was that Vision and Wanda left America to start a life together somewhere far away. Sam found a girl and got married. Clint went back to his farm and actually retired this time. Ant-man went back to doing whatever it was that he did.

The other side of the team, the ones to sign the accords, started working for the government. Steve had no contact with them. Especially not Tony, you know after the whole Bucky killed Tony's parent's thing; he hadn't exactly been welcoming towards them.

It was all a big mess, one that had James Buchanan Barnes in the middle of it all, a fact he wasn't pleased about. There was so much heat surrounding him, which only seemed to agitate the super soldier.

So Steve did what he thought was best; he left with Bucky.

They moved back to Brooklyn; Steve was determined to help Bucky heal and get acquainted with the 21 century. And also to get his old friend back, not this scarred and broken piece of a man he had in front of him, no the actual Buck, his old pal that he once knew.

Steve made a deal with the government. For their crimes to be pardoned, he had to promise that they would live a normal life, no crime fighting, and no more Captain America. And Steve agreed to those terms, although it pained him. But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for the possibility of getting his old pal back.

They moved into an apartment on the top floor. It was a nice place, it wasn't very big, but it was airy with huge windows. A fact that helped Bucky not feel so trapped all the time. They also had a kind of roof balcony, which Bucky loved being out on. Especially at night.

Because of the way the building was made they had the top floor almost to themselves. The elevator only went up to the 7th floor, and then they had to take a staircase the rest of the way. There was only one more living on that floor. The rest was underneath them.

Their neighboring apartment had a constant flow of residents moving in and out rather quickly, probably because of Bucky screaming throughout the night. And eventually people stopped moved in, and it just stayed empty.

Steve did his best to decorate their home with a mix of things from the forties and more modern elements. Like a smart tv, that he barely knew how worked. But then also a vinyl player for their music. He did his best and Bucky appreciated his efforts. A mixture of furniture that they knew from their lives and more modern ones.

They were living a comfortable life just the two of them.

Steve had gotten a job as an accountant, it wasn't his dream job, but the pay was good. And he was good at it, being a very organized person in general helped. Steve had gotten a lot of snarky comments at first when he applied for the job, but eventually, they died down. 

Steve was doing good, at least that's what he kept telling himself. Refusing to acknowledge the pain inside of the loss of his team members.

Bucky, however, was barely holding on, so the long hours where Steve was at work was a hard time for him. A time where he was left with his own mind, and he hated every second of it.

Steve felt awful leaving him like that, but he also knew that he needed the money or else they couldn't afford their apartment.

Bucky was struggling to deal with his new found freedom and the 21 century in general. Everything was confusing, and he always feared it was all a dream and one day he would wake up and be back in that horrid place. Back in the grasp of Hydra. He was constantly on edge and profoundly confused by technology.

He also hated how much Steve had sacrificed for him, believing he wasn't worth all that. Because he could see how hard it was for him to give it up, but he did it for him. He never understood why Steve had done all of that for him, but selfishly he was also so grateful that he had. He needed Steve more than he would ever like to admit and that terrified him more than anything else.

So here they are living in an apartment in Brooklyn, trying to deal with their past and figure out their futures.

So what happens when the apartment next door gets a new resident, one who has the potential to change their lives in ways they could never imagine. The question is; Will they let her?

Fin x

Next chapter...

(I know I used the last bits in the summary as well but I thought it was a nice summary and I suck at them so yeah..)

Hope you liked it! I'm very excited about this series and I hope it will turn out well.

Don’t be shy to provide me with any sort of feedback, I would love to hear your thoughts. xx

Taglist IS OPEN, just send me an ask or message specifying what you want to be tagged in. Or if you want to be removed, message me as well.

Permanent Taglist: @holland-stan-posts @bibegone

[twitchesandstitches]

There are several main AUs I do on this blog, and they are very broad in scope, encompassing a wide variety of potential settings and scenario set ups. They can encompass my OCs, redesigns, fandom stuff, and all that in a single package, and that includes ��non-canon’ one shots that have no connection to the AU besides setting.

While it’s incredibly unlikely that, at this point, any of my followers didn’t already follow me on my previous writing blog, there is nonetheless a possibility that I might get some new people here eventually. And then, they’re likely gonna be real confused when  I start talking about my AUs without context. And even if you do know all my ramblings about my AUs pretty well, it’s useful to have refreshers in case you forget stuff or want some info now and then. So real quick, I’m writing up some refreshers on my main AUs.

Firstly, Crossthicc AU. It is a massive crossover in the vein on Kingdom Hearts, or to be more specific, it is a kink-centric reworking of a more SFW fanfic I’m planning on doing eventually, with elements of this being reused in that. It takes place in a sprawling space opera type of sci fi with fantasy elements, and an epic adventure tone; mighty wars are decided by duels between champions, cities construct massive structures to harness the forces of magic or the psychic energy of living beings as a power source, giant mech suits and power armor exoskeletons are ubiquitous, and so forth.

BAsically, imagine a combination of Warhammer 40k, Eclipse Phase and a sci fi-themed version of Exalted, set against a multiverse cosmology based on Dungeons and Dragon’s Planescape. The technology levels, the general aesthetics and the overall feel flow from that, and then you Paragon the SHIT OUT OF IT. And that’s before the thicc-ness stuff comes in!

Taking place a great deal of time after a multiversal catastrophe that nearly spelled the end of existence itself and caused smaller reflections of such disaster across all the realms of existence, the AU proper focuses on a fleet of characters drawn from all across the fandoms I am personally familiar with or at least find interesting. This is an extremely small fleet, numbering from several hundred to a little under a thousand people depending on where in the timeline it takes place; their number of ships are undefined, but probably not very many, and are a mixture of the Quarian Migrant Fleet from Mass Effect and the Scum sub-culture of Eclipse Phase - which is likely also a thing in-universe. Their ships are mainly refurbished cargo barges, space buses and the occasional colony ship, mostly automated and run by summoned spirit friends to make up for their lack of numbers. This ships are all living machine-beings, vast AIs or networks of thinking machines, and can choose to transform into gigantic hyper curvy robot ladies in times of great need, but rarely do so.

The fleet came together from the survivors of many broken or damaged worlds, banding together for survival and growing closer, eventually stabilizing into a sort of weird family. Fiercely loyal to one another, coming to appreciate adventure and enjoying the relative stability, they have been journeying as cosmic nomads for several years now, having had many children together and growing in power, and over time they have noticed some things… off about the cosmos. There have been hints, in ruins and half-destroyed records dating back thousands of years, and they have come to the conclusion that the cataclysms that wrecked the multiverse was not random events but an active scheme.

And they are coming to the attention of whatever caused that disaster in the first place; they refer to this mysterious force as the conspiracy, but know little of who this conspiracy, their purpose or anything beside the horrors they have committed.

Over time, the fleet has become a strongly paragon-themed organization of heroes, champions of righteousness, seeking to be perfect heroes all the time… all while being extremely eccentric and quirky weirdos, as prone to flying off on rants about peanut butter when they were supposed to give a moving speech on heroism. In any conflict they will usually side towards which resolution does the least harm, and fighting tyrants is something of a hobby of theirs. That, and collecting incredibly pissed off conspiracies presumably unrelated to the Big One they are learning about.

The fleet - or specifically, their number one champion - is in possession of a powerful relic called the Eupeptic Gestat. It’s loosely based on the Keyblade, but is essentially a vore/hyper pregnancy themed artifact with powers based on Fullmetal Alchemist’s take on alchemy, with the ability to absorb almost anything and gain new powers based on what it absorbs, and allows the fleet to craft new powers from those, distilling them mostly into adorable Pokemon-like creatures that members of the crew can fuse with to gain their powers. By mixing and matching their abilities, the members of the crew can gain an enormous number of powers, as well as gain mutations to sculpt their bodies into whatever they please, though often with some unexpected frailties.

Note that this powers always involve some variety of physical mutation; get fire powers, your arms erupt into volcanic flame and your skin is living fire, your eyes burning like stars. These mutations are not subtle, they’re not pretty, and they’re usually pretty weird. Combining powers will get some very odd results, and likely induce additional frailties or limitations in exchange for greater potential.

The crew itself is highly diverse, with humans forming a distinct minority in it. Name a species from a fandom somewhere, they are probably present. Orcs of all kinds, elves and more. Dragons shapeshifting into more mundane forms, robots of every single conceivable function and form happy to be part of a group that welcomes them as family. Transformers - mostly Autobots - are giant guardians to their smaller kin. Gems of many castes, and plenty of them permanent fusions with one another. Asari, krogan and Geth from Mass Effect form a major contingent, as do a wide variety of monster girls and boys.

Whatever they are, though, the women of this crew - and the men, to a lesser degree - will get bigger.

As they grow more powerful and benefit from the powers granted to them, the women of the crew invariably grow more hyper curvaceous. Their breasts swell to enormous sizes and absurd milkiness (and this milk often has its own properties, based on the heroine’s other abilities or personality traits), they tend to become rather more fit, their hips expand to couch-destroying sizes with butts to match. This curve growth never really stops, though the precise extremes are an entirely personal decision; the biggest girls are generally the most powerful as well. They tend to grow much, much larger over time, inevitably becoming giantesses dozens of feet tall when they power up, and this too has no real limit.

Additionally, they gain a number of abilities related to pregnancy and other traits should they allow the Gestat to imbue them with its powers. It’s devouring-based abilities grant almost anyone the ability to consume other things, metaphorically or otherwise. THis can be absorbing energy or specific forms of matter and empowering yourself with them, or very literal; the power to swallow things whole and digest virtually anything. This is universal among most of the crew. But it expands their fertility, allowing them to do things such as give birth by materializing them in a spirit bubble, summoning powerful entities by gestating them within their bodies, absorbing allies and healing those allies within their own fertile wombs and possibly imbuing them with their own powers.

Additionally, they have no limitations on how many children they can have at once, gestating dozens at once without issue, and eventually even spontaneously generating them by just being around other people; no sex required or needed. They also act as living crucibles or cauldrons, distilling powers imbued into them within their bodies and refining them into a more complete form that can be used for other purposes, with the mother’s own quirks in it. And with every child they give birth to or other application of their powers, they become more powerful, so that the crew is largely dominated by absolutely massive, impossibly curvaceous, motherly heroines.

Becoming a MILFy, ravenous giantess is thus part of the package. Men can and do benefit from these abilities as well, often as support to their much more powerful counterparts; dad bods and buff bara types, as well as extreme femboys, are VERY common.

Finally, the crew constantly experiments with self-modification, using blends of magical ability, scientific procedures, cybernetic augmentation and biological trickery to create a variety of what they call ‘mods’, which can alter their bodies in specific ways. Using traits harnessed from the many species of the galaxy, along with specific aspects of the powers they have built, members of the crew can have almost any appearance or alteration that pleases them; exoskeletons, enhanced muscle fibers, horns, claws, gills, fangs, completely new morphologies and robot-ization are all examples of this.

Monster girl/boy/non-binary transformations are included in this, of any sort. By combining traits from many different species, you can get all kinds of monstrous forms even without using additional powers. Usually this is done for an edge in combat, but some just like being monstery.

They can also do mods that give other people hyper fertility, all manner of biological transformations or otherwise enable kink transformations of any kind, often tied to a power of some sort. One way they fund themselves is by selling these mods at worlds they visit.

(This means, yup, there are dispensing machines that sell mega-buff energy drinks, chocolate milk that makes you a curvaceous MILF who LITERALLY lactates liquid chocolate, and sodas that turn you into a liquid monster person.)

It should be noted these mods are permanent, and there is no resetting to a default state; in order to change back, you have to undertake procedures to transform you into something like your original state.

Now that the fun transformation stuff is clarified, what does the fleet actually do? Mostly they bounce around from world to world, racing through the tides of the spirit world and relying on their magically powerful navigators to guide them to new galaxies in this faster than light travel, searching for a new world to call home or a means to create their own homeworld. They get involved in archaeological mysteries, wind up in the middle of fight with warlords and empires, and if they don’t have at least one epic space battle a week, it's been a really slow week.

Among other things, they have a rival in a crew of space pirates, and it's a mostly friendly rivalry, a blackrom on an organizational scale, and they compete for resources, treasure, ancient lore and the secrets to great wealth or fame. This pirate crew likely outnumbers them, though the crew’s abilities are a potent force multiplier.

Less friendly is a resurgent military from the distant past, led by a fearsome general of a long-defunct empire, who has reclaimed a powerful gauntlet and seen the situation the universe is in, and intends to bring it to endless war and conflict to force it to become stronger and break the cycles of stagnancy. To this end, he has gathered together a vast legion of like-minded warriors, bloodthirsty warmongers, soldiers enamored with war as a solution, and others of that nature. The fleet and this legion constantly but heads, and while they do sometimes work together, their goals are completely opposite. Eventually, tensions will come to a head.

The conspiracy, as stated above, is likely their biggest threat but none of them know much about this force besides that it does exist and is responsible, directly or otherwise, for the cataclysms that nearly ended reality as they know it. They have some apparent connection to the fiends of the realms of pure evil, a wide variety of strange and loathsome entities, and appear to be bankrolling a vast majority of destructive agencies across the multiverse. Why they are doing this is unknown, but they are a persistent thorn in the fleet’s side, presently too large to even notice the fleet as yet.

There are also a very wide variety of monsters and beasts the crew faces on an almost daily level. They range from kaiju-sized monsters that savagely attack everything in sight and seem to warp reality as a matter of just being there, to ethereal horrors that devour everything and constantly grow bigger until they can eat stars and swell up into spaceship-sized monsters that sail across space and devour planets, to destructive fiends that colease out of hatred and negative emotion to just make things worse on everyone. Most of these are the ‘take them out, guilt free’ kind of brutes just there for good action scenes, or acting as the minions of some other greater force.

[thepelagoislands]

New Island: Temet Nosce

This island was written by Soseki-mun!

@postmanwayne | @thedensedoctor | @apiescatch | @gourmaid

When the island appears in the distance, it looks to be nothing more than a hunk of oddly shaped rock. As the boat draws closer, the details of the island become more apparent. White buildings come into focus, several of them dotting the island from tip to tip, but most are gathered near the center. Clustered in the middle of them is a clocktower, a clock face situated on each side and looking out. Along the coast, a pier stretches out over the water with ample space for a boat to dock safely and for the passengers to disembark with ease.

> I hate islands.

> What’s the worst that can happen?

Once on the pier, the only path stretching off leads into the town proper. However, if anyone was expecting to find people living here, that assumption is quickly proven wrong. No matter where the voyagers venture in the town, there is no one there. Every building is empty and has seemingly been abandoned that very day judging by the untouched dinners, the clothes hanging out to dry, and the open market stalls.

The voyagers can take their time exploring the area if they wish. Each home and place of business will look as if everyone had been doing something only hours before only to leave immediately. However, there is no trace of where they might have gone. Market stalls and businesses have their merchandise still on display. Every home is unlocked and free to enter. Besides the oddity of no one being around despite its appearance, voyagers may catch glimpses of people in ball gowns and ornate masks, but they’re visible for only a split second before disappearing as if they were never there at all. Other times they may swear the air is filled with the scent of perfume and sweets only for it be replaced by a fresh breeze a moment later.

Whatever the voyagers may find — food, accessories, clothes, weapons — they are free to take.

In the center of the town is a large fountain with golden coins scattered across the bottom, their surfaces reflective in the water. A close inspection reveals that each coin’s surface has a word engraved on it. They all seem to relate to faults: bigot, blunt, arrogant, gullible, nosey, reckless, the list of words goes on. If anyone attempts to gather them, they find that they cannot. The coins keep slipping through their fingers. However, if anyone took the time and concentrated effort to count them, they would find that there are 347 coins.

Besides the businesses and homes, the only other noteworthy place to visit is the clocktower. Its entrance is a few feet away from the fountain. Entering, the voyagers find nothing of note on the ground floor but a sturdy staircase wraps around the wall and goes up into the air. At the top, the voyagers enter a square room, each wall hosting a large circular glass that looks out with the face of a clock.

It’s only a few minutes of being in the clock tower room that a sudden and powerful sleepiness overcomes each voyager. One by one, they pass out.

When they awaken, it is not to the pristine interior of the clocktower, but to a ballroom. Each voyager is sitting in an ornate chair when they awake, all of them separate from the other, and dressed to fit the occasion. A suit, a ball gown, masks: whatever would be their hearts desire to wear at a masquerade. They will also find that any items they may have picked up in town are still with them or near them in some fashion.

The initial feeling they have is that they belong here. They are honored guests of this party and well expected. Some of the other guests may seem familiar — perhaps the voyagers have seen them in brief glimpses before? — but it is hard to pinpoint where exactly, especially with everyone in masks of their own. Regardless, the other guests are nothing but extravagant and polite.

Very soon, each voyager will find themselves approached by another dancer. This person will take the form they find most appealing in both looks and attire. When they speak, their voice and words sweet as honey, the voyager will forget about any loved ones they may have. They will find themselves further pulled into a complacent state of mind. Eventually, the dancer will offer them a coin, a party favor they will call it, and request that they keep it close. Only the strongest willed of the voyagers will be able to refuse such a request and the others will be very compelled to do as asked.

> Accept the coin

From now on, the voyager does not know it yet but their life is on a timer. The coin, the words ‘Find freedom in the acceptance of your mortal faults’ engraved along the edge, is designed to slowly drain the life from their body, which they will start to feel the effects of as time goes on. If they come across a mirror at the masquerade, on the edge of the ballroom or a pocket mirror carried by another guest, they will not see their reflection but instead they will see their sleeping bodies back in the clocktower.

Their bodies, however, are not just sleeping. Due to the coin’s powers, they are actively dying at an increased pace. Their hair graying, their skin wrinkling, their body wasting away. At advance stages, their skin and muscle will start to decay right down to the bone. The entire process will take a different amount of time depend on how old they are. Those in their twenties and younger will have up to six hours while someone older may only have two to three hours.

If they happen to glimpse other masquerade goers in a mirror, they will see bones and skulls instead of skin. This is true for everyone save other voyagers.

The voyagers have until their sleeping figures are skeletons to figure out how to escape. Their only clues are the coins they possess. Additionally, they will feel compelled by their dancer companion to enjoy the festivities, their worries easing from their mind like magic when they speak. However, seeing a horrifying sight or being approached by another voyager might knock them out of the spell.

As per the coin’s engraving, each voyager must verbally, and with their whole heart, accept and proclaim one of their faults. This cannot be a minor fault of theirs, not something they would easily admit to another, but rather something they are struggling with. Once they do, they awaken back in the clock tower. All of their life energy will be returned to them and any changes made to their bodies reversed. If any other voyages are still asleep, they will see their bodies slowly decaying, but revive in the same manner when they awaken. Any items they picked up before are now nothing but piles of dust.

> Reject the coin

If a voyager is able to reject the coin from their dancer companion, however, an entirely different fate awaits them. The dancer will continue to insist but if their offer is ultimately rejected, a feat accomplished by those with great magical talent or incredibly strong will, then the ballroom will instantly fade away.

While at first seems that they have awakened back in the clocktower, none of the other voyagers are present. The inside of the clocktower is also extremely different, now instead worn and old with busted boards and broken windows. They will also still be in their ballroom attire but, like the clocktower, it is now dirty and torn. A rustling, scratching, growling noise will come from the lower area of the clocktower and make its way up. Inexplicably, the staircase now continues up where before it did not.

The voyager can choose to run or to face the physical manifestation of their faults, which will take the shape of the voyager they are pursuing, right down to their voyaging clothes, and will claim to be them, saying things the voyager would never say to someone and would not admit to themselves, but only think and feel in their weakest moments. If they run up the stairs, they will find that each room above is identical to the clock tower, as is each room below, and the staircase itself is never ending.

The apparition will whisper their faults to them. The only way to escape and not be consumed by their faults is in acceptance of the apparition’s words and that what it says is true. The more they struggle against the truth, the more powerful their apparition grows and the more likely they are to be devoured.

Once they accept their faults, the apparition will disappear, seemingly happy for their true feelings to be accepted. The voyager will pass out once more.

However they make it back to the real world, the first noticeable difference is the utter state of decay the town is now in. The clock tower is still standing, though the glass of each clock face is now broken in jagged strips. The afternoon sun filters through the openings to paint itself haphazardly across the floorboards, suggesting that the voyagers have spent only a few hours sleeping. However, if a voyager takes longer they might be greeted with moonlight instead of sunlight. The floorboards of the clocktower are busted in and the staircase leading back down is rickety with each step prone to creaking or possibly giving away entirely under the weight of a voyager.

Outside, the atmosphere is generally gloomy, complete with crumbling buildings and ruined homes. The fountain from before is now dry and the golden coins have been replaced with a multitude of skulls, the only remnants of the villagers now forever trapped in their dance. And a chilling reminder to the voyagers that their own skull could have joined the pile. The pier is now rickety and unstable, but if they voyagers are careful they should be able to make it back to their ship without too much trouble. If any of the voyagers chance a glance back at the clocktower, they may see the dance still continuing in and out of the broken windows.

When arriving back to the Pelago Islands, the voyagers will find themselves unable to talk about what happened to them, either verbally, written, or with any other kind of communication. This effectively leaves the magical residents of the island to continue with their glamour and ensnare more hapless voyagers.

[wildfcress]

"never have i been a calm sea // i am a storm” storm - fleetwood mac

“fire in her bones // honey in her soul // she is sweet when she has to be // and fierce when she needs to be” - unknown

Background

Full name: 

Lily Josephine Evans

Lily (English): Lily flower. Pure. The symbolism of a lily is innocence, purity, and beauty.

Josephine [Jo-SUH-Feen] (French): May Jehovah add. Named after her grandmother on her mother’s side, Josephine Campbell.

Evans (Welsh): Son of Evan; Gracious gift of Jehovah

Age: 

16

Birthday: 

January 30th, born and raised in Cokeland 

Cokeland is located in the Midlands in England, so I think that in a real geographic perspective she grew up in what would be our Copeland, England.

Blood Status 

Muggleborn

Zodiac Sign: 

Aquarius

If it’s new, radical and rebellious, Aquarians are all over it. The fact that these folks can think so creatively and inventively is one of their greatest assets. Water Bearers are all about progress and technology — they love the latest gadgets, gewgaws, computers, and next-generation technologies. Thanks to a genius that borders on insanity (!), those born under this sign have the unique ability to present ideas that will revolutionize the world. Their approach in doing so may be unpredictable, impersonal and at times cold.

Generally, that means ample space, since Aquarius traits tend to be freedom-loving and individualistic, these folks need to roam (and yes, they do enjoy travel). While Aquarians are generally sympathetic and compassionate, they like it when things go their own quirky way. Some might call their behavior eccentric (and they would be right), but when you consider that the Aquarian’s heart is truly in the right place, a few oddities should be overlooked. In their own way, Aquarians treasure their many friends and acquaintances and want to give back as much as they can.

At play, those born under an Aquarius sun sign like to surround themselves with lots of people, preferably family and friends. When it comes to love, this star sign will also be playful, even flirtatious. While they play for keeps, it won’t necessarily feel that way, since these folks are the opposite of jealous. The great strengths of the Aquarius-born are their vision, intellect and humanity. They are determined to make the world a better place and to help everyone they can along the way. They are truly the trailblazers of the zodiac.

(+) Affectionate,  Progressive, Humanitarian

(-) Temperamental, Aloof, Uncompromising

What’s their family life like?:

Her mother Aisla (Elle-sa) Evans (nee Campbell) works as a seamstress and her father Christopher Evans owns a convenience store. Her older sister Petunia Evans is currently going to Imperial College London for Communications and Public Affairs. 

She’s always been really close with her mother, but her and her father have never quite seen eye to eye. Her and Petunia used to be attached by the hip until Lily started to display magic. Losing her sister was like losing part of herself; being as close as the two were, she struggled to find herself again after that loss. To this day she refuses to lose hope that they’ll reconnect one day.

When did magic first begin to manifest itself?:

She was nine and she was playing in her grandma’s garden and accidentally crushed her lavender plant. When she picked it up it rebloomed in her hand.

School

Wand Characteristics:

10 1/4 inches, Willow, Dragon Heartstring, Swishy

Willow; those with willow wands are known to have unwanted insecurity and great potential. Lily hates how insecure she could get. She tries to hide it, mainly through studying and making sure everything is as perfect as possible. They perform strong non-verbal spells and often goes to those who feel they have a lot to learn. A proverb in the Ollivander family says “he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.”

Dragon Heartstring: The only thing on the face of the earth as temperamental as Lily. When she first got it it would not. Stop. Blowing up in her face. Literally and metaphorically. So she started working even harder to make sure that a stupid piece of wood wasn’t beating her, and she eventually learned how to get it under control. Wands with a dragon heartstring core are known to produce the strongest magic. They can also change allegiance when won in a battle, and it bonds fiercely to its owner. Whenever someone in her dorm tried to use it...well, the walls were pink for weeks.

How long did it take the wand to choose them?:

She found it on the seventh wand. She thought that was normal, but then the person after her found theirs in one shot so she was like....a LIL OFFENDED TBH.

House:

Gryffindor 

How long did it take the sorting hat to sort them?:

Five minutes. It had a hard time deciding whether to sort her into Gryffindor or Slytherin, because of her strong leadership, bravery, and ambition. But ultimately it decided on Gryffindor because of her brashness beat out everything else.

How do they feel about their common room/dorm?:

Loves them! The colors and overall atmosphere of the common room are so fucking comfy to her, being in it always puts her in a good mood. She practically lives in front of the fireplace. As for her dorm, she’s decorated her space with tons of posters, letters, polaroids she’s taken through the years, and fairy lights around her bed, so it’s pretty much a safe haven.

Year: 

6th

If they could go to another school, where would they go?:

Beauxbatons! She’s a hopeless romantic, so she’d love to actually live in france and go to school there!! Like, wow!! Two birds with one stone!! Their uniforms are much cuter, and she’s heard nothing but amazing things about their academics. Or Ilvermorny, because she’s interested in the fact that it was originally just a homeschool, which turned into a small group before eventually evolving into the school it is today. 

Best classes:

Charms, Potions

Worst Classes:

Transfiguration, Divination

Patronus: 

Doe. Like a doe, Lily is observant, protective of those close to her, nurturing, gentle, and determined.

Memory they’d use to conjure it:

Her seventh birthday. Her favorite aunt, Marabell, surprised her at her grandmother’s house with the astronaut Barbie doll she wanted. There was snow covering the ground and they explored the forest by her grandmother’s house until it started getting dark. When they went inside they had dinner (chicken franchise - her favorite) and after they were done cleaning up she helped her grandmother made lemon cake.

What does Amortentia smell like to them?:

Lemons, a woodsy smell, and a third scent she really can’t recognize

Are they in any clubs?:

Slug Club & Dueling Club

Did they bring a pet? If yes, what?:

She brought a white cat named Priscilla (Petunia named her, she wanted to name it Snowball)

How often do they get packages from home?:

All. The. Time. Her parents always send her newspapers, magazines, and candy from home.

Do they earn detentions often?:

If she got caught doing half the shit she does, she’d be in detention a lot more. BUT she’s good at hiding it. Some rules are meant to be broken, and being a prefect sure as hell has its perks. 

Are they the type to gain or lose house points:

Gain.

Would they go to the Yule Ball? Who would they ask?:

You bet your ass she would. And she’d probably definitely go with Mary. Their actual dates can come too.

Do they play quidditch? If so, what position?:

Not currently, but she’s thinking about trying out for chaser next year if there’s a spot open.

Favorite color:

Pink 

Describe their aesthetic in 3 words:

Black flower Doc Martens. Messy hair. Overly sized sweaters.

Theme song:

Believer by Imagine Dragons

Top 5 songs in their playlist:

Dog Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine

Edge of Seventeen - Fleetwood Mac

Long Live - Taylor Swift

Now I Can Talk - Two Door Cinema Club

Nights - Frank Ocean

Vine that fits them: 

x x x x

3+ wanted connections: 

frenemy: someone that just grates her nerves. there’s no obvious reason as to why she doesn’t like them, but something about them makes her want to drive her head and theirs through a wall.

old flame: based off this song, something beautifully unofficial. lily has a huge heart and falls easily, so maybe something that was supposed to be nothing ended up being a lot more? possibly one sided? who knows. 

drinking buddies: can be multiple people! when shit gets real someone she could just drown her problems away with.

sass masters: this friendship is a lot of banter, light hearted insults, and teasing. they’re just having fun tbh.

quidditch: she wants to try out for quidditch next year, so someone to help her train and actually figure out what the fuck she’s doing

tutor: someone she tutors. simple as thAT

child: lily has taken this person under her wing and will do absolutely anything to protect them. she’s going all mama hen

unlikely friendship: lily can befriend a wALL. okay. so this is a friendship that you absolutely wouldn’t expect but it’s here 

fight club: she ALWAYS argues with this person. like every word out of their mouth just pisses her off immensely. even their presence makes her want 2 cry

internet: hogwarts is a big school, so i think it’d be fun to play with her befriending someone online and like just not knowing who they are in real life. they know each others name and houses and whatever but they’ve never actually met.

enemies: very self explanatory

more tba probably

Miscellaneous (Anything else you want to add): 

headcanon time!!

during school breaks she gets jobs around her town. not only does it give her muggle experiences that she wanted to have when she was younger, but she also feels guilty asking her parents for money every couple of months.

 she has two sets of school notes. one is the chickenscratch she takes during class, the second is a neater version of it that’s highlighted and bulleted and annotated. 

she’s HUGE into bullet journals

or just journaling for that matter. she thinks it’s fun

professional stealer of clothes. ur shirt missing? lily has it. ur pants? also lily’s. you probably won’t get it back.

her favorite candy is sugar quills (the white ones cause she’s basic)

the better her mood, the more sugar she puts in her coffee/tea

prefers coffee over tea

she knows every word to every one direction song

would much rather not wear shoes 

always has muggle pens and papers on her because you never know

she can NEVER have her nails done. she can for like a night but she’ll always end up picking it off

super cuddly. will more than likely fall asleep on you

is pretty much a cat

if she’s close with you, you have no faults. she will ignore everything wrong with them until she’s absolutely forced to face it. but once that trust is gone, it’s gone for good