#kotlc's blonde problem

[the-way-astray]

while i do think that, objectively, kotlc has too many blonde characters, i also can understand why shannon did that. one of the mysteries surrounding kotlc (or that's supposed to surround kotlc . . . hey shannon did you forget your story is supposed to have an actual plot?) is the question of sophie's biological parents.

through basic reasoning, it makes sense that at least one of sophie's bio parents would have blonde hair. as an audience, we intrinsically know something about any mystery where the answer to the mystery is a person (such as murder mysteries or in this case, the search for a biological parent) that sometimes the characters themselves don't know: that the mystery person is one of the characters we've been introduced to. sophie has no real evidence to suggest that she knows her biological parents or has even heard of them, but as an audience, we intuitively understand that she must've at least seen them a few times. because that's what makes a good mystery. the idea that the person responsible (or in this case the bio parents) was right under our noses.

now realistically, there would only be one, maybe two blonde people in the story aside from sophie. but then it's just too easy to have a guaranteed guess on at least one of sophie's parents. the mystery is gone, too easily solved. but with an unrealistically large cast of blonde characters, we now reach a stage where we can't just eliminate a couple through process of elimination and then can guess with almost absolute certainty who her parents are. the mystery still holds up. and while i don't understand a whole lot of choices that go into kotlc, i do understand this one.

although an easy way to fix this issue altogether is to just make sophie have dark hair but i digress

[thatrandomlemononyourcounter1]

Keepers of the Lost Cities Chapter 1

Here it is folks. The beginning. I really really hope this goes well ;-;.

UPDATE: I'm dropping the link to the fic on google docs so I don't abuse Tumblr :)

UPDATE UPDATE: We're up to chapter 6! Once we get to chapter 10, I might attempt to draw something. Sidenote, I might actually cry if someone made fan art of my oc or any of the 'bonus scenes' I add into the book.

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE: Y'all, we're at chapter 8 now. I might randomly post two chapters in a day, depending on the length of the chapters.

KOTLC BOOK REWRITE!!

Chapter 1

Sophie

“Miss Foster!” Mr. Sweeney’s nasal voice cut through Sophie’s blaring music as he yanked her earbuds out by the cords. “Have you decided that you’re too smart to pay attention to this information?”

Sophie forced her eyes open. She tried not to wince as the bright fluorescents reflected off the unnecessarily vivid blue walls of the museum, amplifying the throbbing headache she was hiding.

“No, Mr. Sweeney,” she mumbled, shrinking under the glares of her now staring classmates. She pulled her shoulder-length blond hair around her face, wishing she could hide behind it. 

This was exactly the kind of attention she went out of her way to avoid. Why she wore dull colors and lurked in the back, blocked by the other kids who were at least a foot taller than her. 

It was the only way to survive as a twelve-year-old high school senior. 

“Then perhaps you can explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?” Mr. Sweeney held up her earbuds like they were evidence in a crime. 

Although to him, they probably were. 

He’d dragged Sophie’s class to the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park, assuming his students would be excited about the all-day field trip. He didn’t seem to realize that unless the giant dinosaur replicas came to life and started eating people, no one cared. 

Sophie tugged out a loose eyelash—a nervous habit—and stared at her feet.

There was no way to make Mr. Sweeney understand why she needed the music to cancel the noise. 

He couldn’t even hear the noise. 

Chatter from dozens of tourists echoed off the fossil-lined walls and splashed around the cavernous room. But their mental voices were the real problem. 

Scattered, disconnected pieces of thoughts broadcast straight into Sophie’s brain—like being in a room with hundreds of TVs blaring different shows at the same time. They sliced into her consciousness, leaving sharp pains in their wake. 

She was a freak. 

It’d been her secret—her burden—since she fell and hit her head when she was five years old. She’d tried blocking the noise. Tried ignoring it. Nothing helped. And she could never tell anyone. They wouldn’t understand. 

“Since you’ve decided you’re above this lecture, why don’t you give it?” Mr. Sweeney asked. He pointed to the enormous orange dinosaur with a duckbill in the center of the room. “Explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we’ve studied.” 

Sophie repressed a sigh as her mind flashed to an image of the information card in front of the display. She’d glanced at it when they entered the museum, and her photographic memory recorded every detail. 

As she recited the facts in a droning tone, Mr. Sweeney’s face twisted into a scowl, and she could hear her classmates’ thoughts grow increasingly sour. They weren’t exactly fans of their resident child prodigy. 

They called her Curvebuster. 

She finished her answer, and Mr. Sweeney grumbled something that sounded like “know-it-all” as he stalked off to the exhibit in the next room over. Sophie didn’t follow. 

The thin walls separating the two rooms didn’t block the noise, but they muffled it. She grabbed what little relief she could. 

“Nice job, superfreak,” Garwin Chang—a boy wearing a T-shirt that said BACK OFF! I’M GONNA FART—sneered as he shoved past her to join their classmates. “Maybe they’ll write another article about you. ‘Child Prodigy Teaches Class About the Lame-o-saurus.’” 

“Hah. You only wish they’d write articles about you Chang.” A short blonde walked up to Sophie’s side, tilting her head towards her. “Don’t worry about him, Soph.” 

Quinn Parker was a presence not easily ignored. She was also Sophie’s only friend.

They were both only twelve, and seniors in high school, navigating the world with strange abilities together. 

Quinn could feel what other people were feeling if she got within close proximity of them, and knowing what others were feeling was, to quote Quinn, ‘Not fun.’ 

Sophie figured that must be almost as bad as having to hear other people’s thoughts. 

She tugged out another eyelash. 

Quinn shook her head and grabbed Sophie’s wrist to stop her from pulling any more. “He’s stupid anyway.” 

“I guess.” Sophie whispered. 

“I’m serious. You’re way smarter than anyone else I know.” Quinn reassured her, not letting go until Sophie begrudgingly nodded. “Okay, well, I know you probably want some relief from your headache, so I’ll leave you be. Don’t do anything dumb.”

Sophie sighed as she saw Quinn approaching Garwin, and had a feeling that she was going to start a problem that really didn’t need to be started.  Even if Garwin really was being a jerk. 

Garwin was still bitter Yale had offered her a full scholarship while his rejection letter had arrived a few weeks before. 

Not that she was allowed to go. 

Her parents said it was too much attention, too much pressure, and she was too young. 

End of discussion. 

So she’d be attending the much closer, much smaller San Diego City College next year—a fact some annoying reporter found newsworthy enough to post in the local paper the day before—CHILD PRODIGY CHOOSES CITY COLLEGE OVER IVY LEAGUE—complete with her senior photo.

 Her parents freaked when they found it. “Freaked” wasn’t even a strong enough word. More than half their rules were to help Sophie “avoid unnecessary attention.” Front-page articles were pretty much their worst nightmare. They’d even called the newspaper to complain. 

The editor had seemed almost as unhappy as they were. 

The story was run in place of an article on the arsonist terrorizing the city—and they were still trying to figure out how the mistake had happened. Bizarre fires with white-hot flames and smoke that smelled like burnt sugar took priority over everything. Especially a story about an unimportant little girl most people went out of their way to ignore. 

Or, they used to at least. 

Across the museum, Sophie caught sight of a tall, dark-haired, sepia-skinned, boy reading yesterday’s newspaper with the embarrassing black-and-white photo of her on the front. Then he looked up and stared straight at her. She’d never seen eyes that particular shade of blue before—teal, like the smooth pieces of sea glass she’d found on the beach—and they were so bright they glittered. 

Something flickered across his expression when he caught her gaze. Disappointment? Before she could decide what to make of it, he shrugged off the display he’d been leaning against and closed the distance between them. The smile he flashed belonged on a movie screen, and Sophie’s heart did a weird fluttery thing. 

“Is this you?” he asked, pointing to the picture. Sophie nodded, feeling tongue-tied. He was probably fifteen, and by far the cutest boy she’d ever seen, so why was he talking to her? 

“I thought so.” He squinted at the picture, then back at her. “I didn’t realize your eyes were brown.” 

“Uh . . . yeah,” she said, not sure what to say. “Why?” 

He shrugged. “No reason.” 

Something felt off about the conversation, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. And she couldn’t place his accent. Kind of British, but different somehow. Crisper? Which bothered her—but she didn’t know why. 

“Are you in this class?” she asked, wishing she could suck the words back as soon as they left her mouth. Of course he wasn’t in her class. She’d never seen him before. She wasn’t used to talking to boys—especially cute boys—and it made her brain a little mushy.  

His perfect smile returned as he told her, “No.” Then he pointed to the hulking greenish figure they were standing in front of. An Albertosaurus, in all its giant, lizardesque glory. “Tell me something. Do you really think that’s what they looked like? It’s a little absurd, isn’t it?” 

“Not really,” Sophie said, trying to see what he saw. It looked like a small T. rex: big mouth, sharp teeth, ridiculously short arms. Seemed fine to her. “Why? What do you think they looked like?” 

He laughed. “Never mind. I’ll let you get back to your class. It was nice to meet you, Sophie.” He turned to leave just as two classes of kindergartners barreled into the fossil exhibit. 

The crushing wave of screaming voices was enough to knock Sophie back a step. But their mental voices were a whole other realm of pain. Kids’ thoughts were stinging, high-pitched needles—and so many at once was like an angry porcupine attacking her brain. 

So much for relief… 

 Sophie closed her eyes as her hands darted to her head, rubbing her temples to ease the stabbings in her skull. Then she remembered she wasn’t alone. 

She glanced around to see if anyone noticed her reaction and locked eyes with the boy. His hands were at his forehead, and his face wore the same pained expression she imagined she’d had only a few seconds before. 

“Did you just . . . hear that?” he asked, his voice hushed. 

She physically felt the blood drain from her face. 

He couldn’t mean . . . It had to be the screaming kids. They created plenty of racket on their own. Shrieks and squeals and giggles, plus sixty or so individual voices chattering away. 

Voices. 

She gasped and took another step back as her brain solved her earlier problem. 

She could hear the thoughts of everyone in the room. But she couldn’t hear the boy’s distinct, accented voice unless he was speaking. His mind was totally and completely silent. 

That had only happened with one other person.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

 His eyes widened. “You did—didn’t you?” He moved closer, leaning in to whisper. “Are you a Telepath?” 

She flinched. 

The word made her skin itch. And her reaction gave her away.

 “You are! I can’t believe it,” he whispered. 

Sophie backed toward the exit. She wasn’t about to reveal her secret to a total stranger. It had taken her months- no- years to trust Quinn enough to tell her. 

“It’s okay,” he said, holding out his hands as he moved closer, like she was some sort of wild animal he was trying to calm. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m one too.” 

Sophie froze. 

“My name’s Fitz,” he added, stepping closer still. 

Fitz? What kind of a name was Fitz? 

She studied his face, searching for some sign that this was all part of a joke. 

“I’m not joking,” he said, like he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

Maybe he did.

She wobbled on her feet. She’d spent the past seven years wishing she could find someone else like her —someone who could do what she could. Now that she’d found him, she felt like the world had tilted sideways. 

He grabbed her arms to steady her. “It’s okay, Sophie. I’m here to help you. We’ve been looking for you for twelve years.” 

Twelve years? And what did he mean by “we”? Better question: What did he want with her? 

The walls closed in and the room started to spin. Air. She needed air. She jerked away and bolted through the museum, running straight into Quinn. 

“Soph? You okay? What’s wrong?” 

Great.  

Sophie couldn’t respond. She just ran, ignoring Quinn’s shouting for her to come back. 

Sophie shot out of the museum’s ginormous doors, nearly tripping in the process. She sucked in giant breaths as she ran down the stairs in front of the museum. The smoke from the fires burned her lungs and white bits of ash flew in her face, but she ignored them. She wanted as much space between her and the strange boy as possible. 

“Sophie, come back!” Fitz shouted behind her. 

She picked up her pace as she raced through the courtyard at the base of the steps, past the wide fountain and over the grassy knolls to the sidewalk. No one got in her way—everyone was inside because of the poor air quality. But she could still hear his footsteps gaining on her. 

“Wait,” Fitz called. “You don’t have to be afraid.” 

She ignored him, pouring all her energy into her sprint and fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder to see how far back he was. 

She made it halfway through a crosswalk before she heard Quinn’s terrified voice calling her name.

 The sound of screeching tires reminded her she hadn’t looked both ways. Her head turned and she locked eyes with a terrified driver struggling to stop his car before it plowed right over her. 

She was going to die.

And there ya go folks. Consider yourselves fed. No but fr I accept all criticism (unless you're being a douche) and I love knowing other people's opinions. (Please tell me if it sucks :)) One thing I forgot to mention is that I moved up the timing a bit, mostly so we could have newer music and a Nintendo switch in the fic. (I wanted the gang to play Mario kart don't come for me.) So right now the current timing is September of 2017.

[popsocket-mouth]

Some of my kotlc headcanons cause I have so many. This isn't all of them nor is it all the characters. Just a main 3 for now, the love triangle who I'm turning into a polycule

Sophie:

I like to think the alicorn genetics tempered with her a little bit more. Like the shape of her eyes are just slightly unnatural or that she has joint problems because her body thinks she's supposed to be double jointed. I also think she has natural platinum blonde hair with a silver sheen, and her mom had her dye it constantly in fear of attention. I imagine elves similar to the fey, and while this is more of a keefe thing, I imagine the aura of emotions around her make her look iridescent. She's also a bookworm and she used to stay in the public library, away from the smog, and annotate in a huge journal. (I bet the elven world doesn't believe in fiction and she's highly disappointed) Sophie's unnaturally tall and her hair grows too fast. Stress makes her inflicting more physically viewable. She learned how to play guitar and snuck out to grab one post Canon to play.

Keefe:

(I'm realizing most of these are hair related) keefes a natural brunette, his mom just forced him to dye it his dad's color. After the dye starts fading in neverseen and lodestar, it permanently effected the color, making it lighter. His face looks more like his mom than dad. Keefe used to repeatedly hurt himself with elixirs to go to the healing center in alchemy to the point of intervention. The great gulon incident was to get rid of bullies, rebel against his parents and ruin dame alinas office all in one go. And it didn't even go the way he wanted it to. Keefe is obsessed with human music and playwrights and actively reads their poetry. Keefe loves candles. If he was human, he'd be goth. He sort of already is. Keefe has ocd and often used to explain his intrusive thoughts to anyone who would listen, which is when he started to mask. Keefes hair is more curly than wavy, but the hair dye had an effect of changing his curl pattern. Keefes mind is built to handle death and killing easier and some elves have differing resolve against guilt.

Fitz:

Fitz is bad at levitating because the height he can go to with his mental strength scares him. After the venom, Fitz walks with a limp. I imagine him as being half Indian half white. Lots of people hate the vackers, they are not as well respected as some say. Fitz has hetercromia; one eyes is teal like aldens and the other is so dark blue it's almost black. He has very sensitive skin. Out of everyone, he is the most brainwashed by elven society due to how much he trusts his dad. Fitz has a bad back that Elwin can't fix. (Alden thought he could make Fitz an even better Telepath and hurt him in the process, hence why he sent him away so young to ifnore his guilt.) He has dysgraphia and actively used to get made fun of for it, which was another reason why he was so excited to go to the forbidden cities. At first, Fitz didn't like Sophie, he just thought he had to, but he did fall for her later in books. (I'm such sokeefitz queer platonic trash.) Keefe is the reason he knows he's not entirely straight.

There so real to me

[song-tam]

tbh i think the wildest character arc in kotlc is sandor because like imagine being this guy?? you’re this seven foot tall hulking goblin and you’re assigned to protect this tiny blonde quasi-human elf girl and the second you meet her she unleashes traumatizing pain on you and then she finds a sparkly flying horse and keeps ditching you the first chance she gets and you fall off a cliff trying to save her and she runs away to a weird rebel hideout and when you’re back on duty you have to listen to her boy problems and she’s still ditching you and she almost dies like ten thousand times and you almost leave your job but she cries so you stay and now you have a million weird coworkers who may or may not want to kill you oh and your girlfriend makes you dance in sparkly pants

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 32: Stitches and Open Wounds

word count: 7.3k

chapter summary: Sophie's trying to rebuild, but the knowledge she now has weighs at her and she can't keep it secret.

warnings: death (happened prior to the chapter), mentions of a body, grief, breakdowns, splinters (a lot of splinters)

taglist: I’ll reblog with it! let me know if you want to be added or removed!

ao3 link here or read below

Lady Gisela’s body was found discarded amongst the wreckage of the everblaze ruins, almost entirely submerged in the little creek that cut through the dreamy grass. It’d saved her from the worst of the fire; even if everblaze couldn’t be put out with water, water still couldn’t burn.

If she was anywhere else, she wouldn’t have been found nearly as quickly. With the stickiness of the ash, the lingering heat looming in the air, the creek was a welcome and brief reprieve. Dipping your feet in and letting the water splash up on your legs, watching it flow over your fingers as you press them just under the surface, it soothed the ache.

As they’d moved through the area, they found that solace in different parts of the water, again and again traveling further through its flow until--bloated skin, swollen scars, dead eyes.

Dead person.

Peach skin and blonde hair all twisted up and falling over itself, sky blue eyes.

Dead Lady Gisela.

Sophie had flown over that very creek, had hoped that it would stop the blaze scorching across the earth. She’d flown over it again when she’d helped get Marella’s dragon away from the goblins who would kill it, who would tear it piece from piece and shred the remains.

Had her body been lying cold in the water then?

Sophie’s tea sat filmy and untouched after she’d set it on the ground, afraid she was going to drop it and shatter the lovely mug.

What did she even do now?

“How? How did she die?” Biana finally asked, voice rasping through the air like a knife, breaking her from her horrified reverie.

Grady shrugged. “They haven’t told us yet. Maybe they never will. I think they want to pretend it never happened.”

But it had happened. Lady Gisela was dead.

If she ever manages to save herself.

That’s what Fintan had said when Lady Gisela had been brought up. She hadn’t worried about it at the time, hadn’t thought of it more than in that moment; if Lady Gisela wasn't a problem right then, she was something that could be put off towards another time.

The time was now, apparently.

What had she failed to save herself from?

Her parents had gotten paler, lips pressed thin, eyes distant as they looked at something the three of them couldn’t see. She hated it, hated that look, wanted to get rid of it.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said suddenly. “If that’s all you know, we don’t need to keep talking about it.”

How had things turned so somber, so unbelievable, so quickly?

How were they going to tell Keefe? What would he say? What would he do? He hadn’t brought her up in months, doing his best to move on from someone who only ever loved who he could be for her, not who he was.

“Sorry for bringing the mood down so low,” Edaline said, attempting a small smile to get them out of the funk. “How about you continue your story? I’m sure you’ve been through a lot more than we have since you left.”

“Um, yeah, okay, I can do that,” she answered, shaking herself off as she tried to remember where she’d been before she brought up the smoke smell, leftovers of the ash from the everblaze. If they still smelled like smoke, then they must’ve been on the surface recently. Did that mean Lady Gisela’s death was recent, too? How much did that change for the Neverseen? For Phoenix? They hadn’t seem to miss her…

“Well, after we left, we used a pathfinder to leap away--but it had gotten cracked, and we ended up somewhere else. You’ll never believe what we found there,” she started, forcing the rest of the thoughts away as she continued her story.

She left out a few details, like the extent of injuries now healed, to keep from worrying them too much, but she found more and more of the story spilling from her lips.

The gnomish village, how they’d each found a house for themselves, though she had yet to see everyone’s, how they’d later fixed up parts of the place but weren’t done yet. Dex’s poor reaction to something, his medical emergency that’d made her freeze so badly she’d never forgiven herself.

For some reason she left out the part with the monster, the fateful day she’d met Echo, unsure how they’d respond. Her parents hadn’t lived on the surface in months, they hadn’t become more than human. They still feared monsters, were still disgusted by them--all of them.

Then the storm, how the rain had poured down out of nowhere from some unnatural cause, tearing flowers from vines and flooding the dirt on the ground into mud. Dragons, there were dragons in the sky. Not the little green dog-like creatures she’d heard about around Havenfield, but true dragons like from her storybooks, dragons that fought and tore at each other.

She brushed through her trip to the Forbidden Cities with Tam, just mentioning how they’d taken what they’d needed after Marella and Linh had absorbed the brunt of the damage from the dragons.

That brought her to the messages they’d received from the Council, the demands for explanations and to meet. A demand she’d met with her own, leading to…Mysterium. Her parents knew the end to this part of the story.

“Will I ever get my pathfinder back?” Grady asked, trying to lighten the mood the story had brought down--if it could even get lower after the news about Lady Gisela.

“No,” she told him after a moment. “It’s ours now. You can get a new one from the Council or something--where do they even come from? Don’t answer that, it’s not important.”

Edaline was looking off into the distance, hands folded tightly under her arms as though she was restraining herself. But from what? “So the whole time we were begging you to come back home, to come back to us, you were going through all that,” she murmured. “We thought we had done something wrong, that we’d driven you away. I’m sorry for all the ways we made your plight more difficult for you; we didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know,” Linh assured her, voice gentle as she fiddled with a ribbon of water in the air, twisting it around her wrist and letting it climb along her skin, gleaming with that unnatural iridescence in the soft lighting. The normal hues built to imitate the light on the surface were shifting into oranges, the day waning.“We didn’t tell anybody. You can’t take that blame onto yourself; it won’t ease the ache for any of us and will only make you more miserable in the process.”

Edaline gave her a warm smile. “Of course--please, don’t stop on my account. Grady told me what happened in Mysterium, the monsters. And the things we’ve been politely avoiding mentioning.”

She gave a pointed look to the cloaks.

Sophie shifted, digging her nails into her palms to keep from tugging at her eyelashes when she found her hand half-way there already.

“Well you’re not politely avoiding it anymore,” she mumbled, face heating as she averted her eyes. Why was this the part that got to her? She’d had the wings for weeks, had learned to use them, had accepted that they were a part of them she could never hate, not when they did so much for her family.

Yet the thought of openly showing them felt like an act she couldn’t come back from, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it. To show her parents just how different she had become from the daughter they’d learned to love. She had no doubts they would continue to love her, that they’d find a way through this hectic new world hand in hand, but that wouldn’t make the shift any less rocky.

“We won’t force you, Sophie--or you two either,” Grady said, addressing Biana and Linh, who had glanced at each other across the circle.

“Thanks,” she exhaled, then frowned up at the ceiling, shifting side to side. She’d been prepared for the pressure of the earth, the cramped feeling that came with it, but that didn’t stop it from grating.

She picked up her story, skipping over Mysterium and going back to the village, how she and Keefe had used Grady’s pathfinder to visit a meadow with the alicorns--Linh and Biana were very jealous of that--how Elwin had reached out to her so she’d brought him to them, Dex making his own wings, how Marella had flown off and Sophie had followed. Biana got a kick out of explaining how she’d followed Sophie following Marella, but the jokes faded when they got to the facility, when Biana went missing, when Marella had finally been found.

Her voice went quiet as she explained how technically, she’d caused the everblaze fire trying to move the dragon, then gave up trying to explain the being at the end of the hall as she moved forward with her tale. They graciously skipped over the tracker incident, then Linh apologized for going missing, detailing how adorable her baby dragons were.

More and more of the story poured from her mouth as the minutes ticked by, the call from Councillor Alina and saving Marella’s dragon and finding Fintan and the little girl and sharing all that had happened until she got to the day before.

Her unintentional kidnapping.

Her parents’ faces were tight as she went over what’d happened, the story smoother this time around now that she’d had the morning as practice. Edaline wouldn’t stop fretting over her, and Grady had some choice words about Fintan and Murad, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

She was back, and she was okay, and she was sharing her story. Everything had worked out and she was moving forward from it. What else was there to do?

By the time her story finished, the device at the top of the room was turning a darker and darker color with each passing second, night laying its weary head upon the earth with an unforgiving finality.

Biana frowned to her right, taking out her imparter as she, too, took in the shift. It was easy enough to ignore as it happened, but at some point it got to a point where you couldn’t put it aside anymore.

Sophie’s throat grated against itself whenever she swallowed, and no amount of tea would wash the feeling away. She’d been talking and talking all day, telling story after story since Echo had sat upon her face and nearly suffocated her that morning--near suffocation wouldn’t help her throat either, no matter how cute.

“Tam wants to know when we’ll be back,” Linh said quietly, also with her imparter out. “What should I tell him?” She directed her question to the room at large, looking between everyone like she’d find the answer there, utterly willing to go along with whatever everyone else needed. She was better emotional support than Sophie could ever deserve.

Sophie looked to her parents, trying to figure out how to word what she wanted to ask when Edaline cut her off before she could get it out.

“Part of me wants to lock the doors and hold you close to make sure I’ll never go without knowing what’s happening to you for so long ever again,” she said, standing off the couch to take the few steps to reach Sophie.

Wrapping her arms around Sophie’s shoulders, she squeezed tight. “But that’s not what you deserve. I don’t want to trap you down here with us, not if you’re…as okay as you can be up there. If you need to go now, we won’t stop you. Just…don’t shut us out like that again Sophie. We trust you, but we’re your parents. It’s in our nature to panic for your safety when we’re fumbling in the dark. Thank you for today. For letting us know you’re okay. I love you.”

Sophie’s shoulders drooped as she lifted her arms to wrap around Edline, face sinking into her shoulder, tears pricking at her eyes, the room blurring.

“You’re being safe, right? No angering ogre kings or breaking bones?” Grady said, joining the hug, and she could feel Biana and Linh pulled in too. All five of their heartbeats pulsed close, echoing back and forth to each other like they could voice all the words none of them knew how to say.

“Well, this is Sophie we’re talking about,” Linh said in response when Sophie couldn’t figure out how.

“You’re the one who charged into that dragon storm with her!” Biana countered, sparking a laugh from Sophie as she wiped at her eyes, pulling away from the group to better look at them all.

“You three better keep each other safe, alright? You need to look out for each other--every one of you,” Grady told them, pulling them all close for one last tight squeeze before he stepped back, tucking his hands in his pockets like it would hide the shaking, clearing his threat as he blinked hard.

Sophie turned it back around on him, saying “You better keep each other safe, walking around on the surface like you do,” but she added, “We will. We always do,” quietly after a moment.

“I guess we have to let you go now,” Edaline whispered, hand pressed over her chest like she could reach through and silence the raucous commotion of her heart.

“I’m not leaving forever this time,” she reminded her, reminded herself. She wasn’t. This was just a start, a bridge burnt down she refused to let stop her. She’d come prepared with bricks and mortar, with wood and rope, with her hands ready to do the work to cross that ravine between the two of them she’d let crack open.

This was just the beginning.

............................

“You are the smartest idiot I’ve ever known,” Tam drawled from the other side of the room, and Sophie didn’t even bother to turn to look at him as she raised a very specific finger, waving it a little for good measure.

“You had no problems going along with my petty theft plan not too long ago. What, are splinters where you draw the line?”

The hand Sophie hadn’t used to very kindly gesture towards him was held still next to her chest as she examined the little bits of wood sticking out of it--two this time. She refused to give Tam’s comment any serious consideration, but it was impressive that she’d managed to give herself 13 splinters over the last hour alone. If she’d still had her gloves--the ones to help control her enhancing, which was an ability she seriously never put to good use--they would’ve been invaluable right about now.

The pile of wood the ten of them had assembled hadn’t been this mean to anyone else; the rest of her friends’ fingers remained untouched from the damaged surfaces.

Sophie’s fit of fixing up a few bridges and sweeping, which hadn’t been very effective given her messed up shoulder at the time, hadn’t been nearly enough to make a dent in the village. But it had made progress, and it had spread.

Almost everyone had taken on smaller projects to freshen up their areas--Fitz’s stairs and balcony had needed some work, and the window’s at Tam’s place had been completely trashed--but they hadn’t done anything together yet.

That’s what this morning was for.

Fitz had woken her up that morning by barging into her house, saying something about how they couldn’t waste the daylight and how much work there was to do, that they needed to get something done to feel better about themselves before taking on the giant tasks their list had outlined for their future--it had apparently stopped being Sophie’s list and was now everybody’s list, which she was fine with. She’d never planned to do anything without them, not when she saw how much it hurt them all.

Except getting kidnapped. She’d definitely try and make sure that that kind of damage was restricted to everyone else as little as possible; they wouldn’t like that, but she didn’t want anyone hurt on her account if she could help it.

And regardless of her convictions or the comfort of her bed--this time suffocation free--Fitz was insistent.

That’s how she found herself next to Tam, turning an abandoned house into an organized place to shove various things. They’d moved all the furniture to a small room on the side and were using the now-empty main room, open to the sun, to stack planks of damaged wood. All the bridges and houses destroyed from the first monster attacks that’d killed this place combined with the dragon storm really wrecked the structures, leaving bridges dangling, warped and unusable, houses collapsed.

The others were going around taking apart the bridges, the vines and ropes holding everything together by a thread, gathering the detached wood from walls, then carting the supplies back to the two of them where they’d sort and organize.

They’d created a system together, the two of them, separating piles based on amount of damage, “slightly warped but still usable depending on the circumstances” all the way down to “how did it even get this funky.” The latter was full of odd shapes and splintered planks, things that could be used for kindling if they ever wanted a real fire--one that wasn’t sustained by Marella, that is.

“Splinters are where I draw the line when you keep doing things the hard way and then complaining about the consequences,” Tam said, answering her question even though she’d asked it just to poke fun at him.

“I’m not even complaining this time! I’m just dealing with it like a rational, controlled adult,” she protested, carefully using her nails to grip at the first splinter. They didn’t have tweezers, so she was going to have to do things the much less effective way, as she’d been doing for the previous dozen splinters.

“You can believe whatever you want to,” Tam told her, throwing up his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips, little fangs pressing into the chewed skin.

He pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, stepping around her to pick up where she’d left off, finishing storing the last of this batch of wood.

Sophie managed to pull the first splinter out just as Tam let out a small yelp, dropping the final plank with a clatter as he swore, shaking out his hand.

“You okay?” she asked, momentarily distracted enough to fully look up.

Tam stood, face all wrinkled in a grimace, flushed pink as he raised his hand up to his face and squinted.

Walking up behind him to peer over his shoulder, she could see what’d been nearly invisible from further away.

A splinter, poked into the skin of his ring finger, looking secure enough to be an absolute pain to remove--especially with Tam’s habit of biting his nails down, leaving them useless for tasks such as this.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed, snatching his hand out of her line of sight.

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything!” she told him, which was a lie. She’d been fully intending to turn the narrative back around and tease him about falling prey to her affliction of tiny pieces of wood under her skin.

“Say anything about what?” Fitz asked, pushing the door open, wing entering before the rest of his body did. She’d hadn’t seen him for more than a few minutes in a while, him peeking through the window to wave hello when he dropped off more wood and rope for them to sort.

Marella pushed in behind him, mumbling something about boys with too many feathers as she inched around the space he took up, flapping her own leathery wings as she leaned against the wall.

“Nothing,” Tam quickly said, dropping his hand back to his side as he turned, light reflecting from his eyes as he did so.

Sophie just smiled quietly to herself, sticking her tongue between her teeth to keep herself from talking. She still had another splinter in her finger, and it was being incredibly stubborn; she began to pick at the skin around it to try and wiggle it out as Fitz continued his questions. “You’re doing that secretive smug smile, what’s going on here?” he accused, indicating the face Sophie was trying to school into submission as she struggled.

Tam still held his hand awkwardly at his side and sighed. “Just a couple of splinters.”

“Splinters? Have you been picking up the wood with your hands?” Fitz was confused enough to drop all his suspicions, instead looking between Sophie and Tam, incredulous.

“What do you mean ‘have we been picking up the wood with our hands?’ What are we supposed to use, our feet?” Sophie shot back, making a face at him like she couldn’t even believe he was asking.

Fitz put both his hands over his mouth, taking a breath before continuing. “You do know we’re elves, right?”

He raised a hand towards the door, pushing it open…with his mind. His fingers curled a little and a plank from his and Marella’s newest drop off started floating off the ground, effortlessly gliding through the door and onto the pile in the corner--which was not where it was supposed to go, as that was a possibly usable plank and he’d put it in the kindling pile.

Sophie and Tam said nothing, only glancing at each other as the wood settled atop the others.

Silently, Sophie peered down at her injury and squinted, drawing that energy up from her core as she lasered in her focus on that tiny sliver of wood still stuck in her finger that’d refused to cooperate with all previous attempts.

The splinter slid from her skin, much quicker and less painful than all her other splinters that’d she’d pulled out with brute force and her fingernails. “Huh. I guess we are elves,” was all she could think to say.

“Maybe you are,” Tam grumbled under his breath, shooting a glare at Marella, who was trying to suppress laughter in the corner, wings scraping against the walls as they shook alongside her, but there was no real weight behind it.

“No wonder you two are always bickering when we stop by,” Marella finally said, a smug little grin painted across her lips.

“You know what, just for that, I’m going to keep doing it the human way out of spite,” Sophie decided, crossing her arms. Maybe she was an elf--or at least partly, given that wings weren’t very elven--but she didn’t have to behave like one. Elves didn’t run off into danger, or love monsters, or teleport, or do any of the things Sophie had been doing for the past few years, so why should she start behaving like one now?

“How are we going to take down a whole double rebel organization if you can’t even do things the easy way when you know they exist!” Fitz exclaimed, running a finger through his hair as his wings flared a little, stirring up the dust and wood fragments and the pollen stuck to Sophie’s skin.

Tam sneezed.

“Sorry,” Sophie said to Tam, then to Fitz, “I’ll be smarter about everything when dealing with the facility and getting Phoenix out. I don’t have a plan--yet--but I’m not risking her. I wish I could’ve taken her when I got out.” The last part slipped out before she could stop it.

“If you hadn’t gotten yourself out, you wouldn’t be able to go back for her at all,” Marella said, coming up behind her. “Maybe it isn’t ideal, but this is a situation you can work with--that we can work with. We may only know her through what you’ve told us, but we trust you; we don’t want her with them as much as you do. Fintan and this Murad…that’s not a good place for a kid.”

Sophie shivered; Marella had never told her about the time she’d spent training with Fintan, and Linh wouldn’t tell her even if she’d asked out of respect for Marella’s privacy, but she couldn’t help but wonder what’d happened in those sessions, what he’d said that’d given her so much control over such a chilling ability.

Which reminded her of something, a day of fire and terror, of little girls held close to the chest, of word play and stalemates.

She turned to Marella, “That thing Fintan said to you, when we saw him at Havenfield…what did that mean?”

Marella frowned, chewing on the end of one of her braids. “Which thing? I don’t have your memory.”

“He said something about remembering the stars and the dreamers.” She hadn’t thought about it much, more concerned with repairing their friendship, but it’d always lingered.

Marella stopped chewing on her braid, letting it drop back into place as her heart rate spiked, nails picking at her cuticles as she exhaled. “Right. That one. It’s…nothing. Just another one of his lessons I ignored. That was the hardest part about training under him, knowing that he was…the kind of person he was. That it influenced everything he taught me, and then having to figure out which parts of what he told me were things I could trust and use, and which parts would indoctrinate me if I just accepted them.”

“And the stars and the dreamers were one you had to ignore?” Fitz clarified.

“Yeah. You’ll never stop wondering about it if I don’t explain so…it was about overcoming limits, testing what you could do. Because it was the pyrokinetics who dreamed of the stars who discovered everblaze, it was the ones who were willing to test the limits and reach higher who discovered this whole new craving that changed pyrokinesis forever. And he wanted me to be like that. To be someone to keep looking further and further and dream higher, reaching for the stars like he did--but to be more successful.

”When I first heard that I was so drawn to that specific story that he kept telling it. I thought it was one of his lessons that I could really use, that would actually work for me. But then the more I pushed myself, looking to the stars…the more I realized that it was that exact story that killed all those pyrokinetics and got the ability banned. Because they kept reaching for more and more, giving into the craving and giving themself over--that was always Fintan’s mistake. He was willing to give too much--to his ability, to his cause--and it ruined him. Pyrokinesis relies on balance between you and the flame, and I want my power to come from that balance and control, not some craving for something more that hurts the people around me. But that doesn’t stop him from bringing it up, trying to ‘push me to be something more.’”

The room went quiet, the three of them looking between each other and Marella looked away, scowling at the nearest pile of wood as her face started going red, sparks dripping from her fingers, crackling against her shirt as she crossed her arms.

“You don’t have to be anything more than you,” Tam told her, voice not gentle, but not unkind. “Anyone who doesn’t accept you as you are isn’t worth your time or your thoughts.”

“I know,” Marella breathed, quiet, like she was trying to remind herself of the fact. “I don’t care what Fintan thinks of me. I don’t,” she emphasized, reasserting herself as she shook her head, clearing her mind. “I’m a better pyrokinetic. I may not win against him one on one or have as much experience, but I have the balance he doesn’t and that’s what matters to me. Does that answer your question?” she said suddenly, switching the attention back to Sophie, who’d honestly forgotten she’d even asked a question with how engrossed she’d become in Marella’s story. It seemed so rare she learned something about her, all the secrets held close as she watched from afar to learn everything about everyone else.

“Yeah, I think it does.”

A clatter sounded outside, and they all jumped, Sophie’s wings buzzing as she nearly lifted off the ground from the force of her racing heart.

“Calm down, it’s just us,” Dex called, more wood clacking against each other--that was the noise that had started them.

But Sophie did not calm down, because she knew exactly who was accompanying Dex, who Fitz had paired him off with that morning.

Sure enough, when the door pushed open, she was met with blond hair and icy blue eyes, light grey wings shuffling behind him as he maneuvered through a door not meant for them.

Keefe.

She hadn’t talked to him, hadn’t told him yet. It was too late last night when they’d gotten back and everyone wanted a chance to think over the revelations of the day. Keefe had helped Fitz hail Alden and Della and whatever had happened there left the two of them exhausted; telling him then would’ve made it even harder for everyone.

And then this morning when Fitz had burst into her house--he probably would’ve thrown open the curtains too, if she’d had any--they’d all gotten right to work, though everyone else was more awake than her. That was the consequence of her years and years of insomnia, now even when she could fall asleep she’d end up sleeping for strange amounts of time as her body tried to find a rhythm amongst the chaos that was her life, leaving her tired despite resting.

She and Keefe had ended up in different pairings--Sophie and Tam, Keefe and Dex. They’d been stationed on different sides of the village, only occasionally crossing paths, and every time her heart rate had spiked.

Waiting for a chance to tell him, to pull him aside and explain what she’d learned…Biana and Linh had left that to her. She knew Keefe better when it came to information about his mom, and they trusted her judgment.

“She has no idea what we’re saying, does she,” Dex’s voice deadpanned. Accompanied with a flick to her arm from Marella, Sophie flinched back into her body, blinking, wings buzzing from the start.

“Ow,” she mumbled, absentmindedly rubbing at the hurt, but that just disturbed the bits of pollen stuck to her skin--seriously, she’d never be rid of it.

“What’s the deal with you, Foster?” Keefe asked, frowning at her. “You’ve been a nervous wreck all day, I swear I can’t escape the feeling.” He squinted at her to emphasize the point, fanning the air as his wings drifted a shade darker before he shook himself out of it.

Sophie opened her mouth, but closed it again when no words came out, shrugging slightly helpless.

She had to tell him, she had to.

They didn’t keep these kinds of secrets from each other--and he’d understand why she hadn’t told him yet, right? It wasn’t fair of her to hold onto this knowledge, but just how could she tell him?

How do you tell one of your best friends that his mother, his cruel and abusive and evil mother he’s spent months and months getting over, is dead?

“Sophie, I was just teasing you, what’s with all the dread?” Keefe asked suddenly into the quiet, the quiet sparked by Sophie’s quiet.

Her friends could sense it, were looking between the two of them with apprehension, with confusion, with curiosity. But they didn’t dare break the spell.

Sophie shifted, trying not to look at his face but unable to keep from glancing at it as she spoke.

“We…need to talk. It’s about your mom.”

............................

“Dead.”

He’d repeated the words back to her again and again, face blank in a truly frightening way.

When they’d had a conversation so similar to this he’d broken down, crying while furious at himself for feeling any sort of remorse or concern for someone so awful. But Lady Gisela was his mother, and he did love her, at least in part.

He’d wanted her to love him.

He hated her, despised her for what she’d done to him, what she’d put him through. But that didn’t mean he wanted her--

“Dead.”

“Please tell me what I can do for you right now,” she nearly begged, trying to keep her eyes off the dark dark darkness that’d spread behind him.

She’d never seen his wings so dark before.

Ink dipped void painted in delicate strokes across a page, blurring and smearing into each other, one feather indistinguishable from the next. They crawled over his shoulders, shadowed his skin, haunted him. No trace of light, no bolt of hope through the storm emerging from his shoulder blades, only something to be weathered, to be worn, to endure.

“I don’t--I don’t…” he started and trailed off a few times, sinking down to the floor to bury his head in his hands, fingers grasping at pale blond hair. She could hear his heartbeat spike as she lowered down next to him, tempted to reach out but not wanting to overwhelm him with her own emotions.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.

Keefe’s eyes were trying to bore a hole through the wooden floor, mouth fallen open. He wasn’t moving. When should she be concerned that he wasn’t moving? How long were you allowed to not move when your evil mother died of unknown causes?

Whatever length of time it was, she lost track when a knock sounded at the door.

Keefe didn’t say anything so Sophie called out, “Yeah?”

The door pushed open softly, the faint rustle of fragile wings stirring the air as Wylie stepped into the room.

“Hey,” he said, voice soothingly quiet as his eyes found Keefe, who still hadn’t moved from his numb position on the floor. “I…I heard what happened. Tam and Marella and the others were…concerned, when you pulled him aside. They started asking questions, so Biana and Linh told us, that way you didn’t have to deal with it on your own,” Wylie explained.

He pushed the door closed behind him, leaning against it and blinking slowly, a ripple of light passing beneath his skin as he sighed.

“I wanted to let you know, Keefe,” he said slowly, observing the same slightly-there yet slightly-not mindset Sophie was starting to get very worried over. “That if you need to, you can talk to me. My mother…she wasn’t like yours, but I lost her, too. There’s a lot of conflict you’re feeling that I didn’t have but…grief is grief.

“I don’t--I don’t even know why it matters,” Keefe mumbled, voice breaking over the words. “It’s not like…” he trailed off for a moment and they just waited, listening, as Keefe’s eyes remained fixed on that point she couldn’t see. “She wasn’t even there for me. I don’t even know the last time I saw her. Nothing’s changed. So why does it feel…like this.”

Wylie hesitantly stepped closer, lowering himself to the floor next to the two of them. “Something has changed. You’re allowed to feel however you’re feeling about that. Even if she wasn’t there for you, there was still the potential. For her to change, for her to care, for something to happen. That’s what really sucks,” he said so quietly she almost missed it. “All the opportunities you miss because this is final.”

“Final,” Keefe repeated back to him in a whisper, and that’s when the first tear fell from his suddenly glistening eyes, tracing its way down his cheek and curving under his chin, leaving an impression in its wake.

A second followed, and then a third, and then his lips were trembling as he took a shaky breath, fingers tightening in their hold on his hair, then his knees hitting the ground as he fell forward, hands splaying before him to catch himself as his wings spread from his back, draping over his body, lifeless as streaks of ice blue flashed through the spilled ink like lightning.

The wretched noise he made as Sophie’s hand tenderly came to rest on his shoulder nearly broke her as she felt her own traitorous eyes blur, watching him fall apart.

“I’m so sorry, Keefe,” she whispered again, unsure what else to say. Would a hug be too overwhelming? Could she say anything more? Was there anything she could do?

Why was she so useless, so helpless to do anything?

“It’s okay to cry over her, no matter how horrible she was,” Wylie said, hand coming to rest on Keefe’s other shoulder, the three of them forming some cursed triangle as the words broke through whatever modicum of restraint Keefe had been straining to hold onto like a log in a hurricane.

Keefe lowered himself to the ground, forehead pressing into the wood as he covered his head with his arms, fingers digging into his skin as the sobs broke loose, his body shuddering as he struggled to get enough breath into his lungs to scream his anguish into being.

And all they could do was be there with him.

All that could escape his mouth were garbled, pained sounds, the force of his confounded pain building and building and building with not enough outlets, strong enough that Sophie nearly fell back in shock, free hand grabbing at her temple as a wave of what she could only describe as raw, furious grief washed through the mindbubble, tearing along those delicate webs tying them all together and exploding like a bomb through her senses.

It rippled outward, pain upon pain upon pain, and she could feel the sparks of recognition from everyone else, the light that went off in their mind as their attention turned inwards. She got swept up in the wave, shoved out of her own consciousness and into the delicate yet sturdy balance maintained between them all. Like tightropes tied between them all, knots holding them together. Sure, they could be separated, but it’d take something sharp.

Keefe--

--ucks--and in the middle of all--

What do we even--

--how do--help?

Everyone’s thoughts poured over her, rushing through her mind like a torrent from a newly fallen dam. All nonsensical and insurmountable, she couldn’t find a way to orient herself, only aware of the grief grief grief washing over everything and trying to drown her to death with a gentle scream of a lullaby.

It’s bad, isn’t it, Fitz voice sounded suddenly, a moment of calm, something clear among the washed out white-noise of Keefe Keefe Keefe filling her head.

Very, she whispered back. I don’t know what to do. I’m…I don’t know what to do.

Me either, Fitz admitted. I want…I want to be there, but I don’t know if he wants me there. He’s always been so distant when it comes to his family, especially with me. I don’t know if I’m the right person…

This sucks so bad. I don’t know what to do for him--I don’t want him to think he’s alone.

They lapsed into silence after a moment and she could feel Fitz debating with himself in his head; give Keefe space so he could work through his emotions without any pressure to pretend to be okay for someone else and risk that he’d do something stupid, or find him to offer support upfront and risk overwhelming him because everyone else would have the same reaction.

Memories flashed through his head of broken things, a broken room, a broken mirror. Mr. Snuggles stuffed under his bed until that nightmare that’d gotten bad enough he’d needed him. Screaming and yelling and his mother’s broken sobs echoing through the halls, her desperation in the kitchen and all the photos she’d thought would bring him back. Biana, clothes plain and wrinkled as days-old tears sat against her skin, hair unwashed and pulled out of the way. Pulled out of the way so you could see her blank expression, like there was nothing and everything going on in her head and all she could do was sit there, stone still, not even twitching.

He’d nearly lost a parent, too.

Fitz and Biana almost lost Alden for good, Linh and Tam had been abandoned by both their parents, Wylie had lost his mom to the grave and his father to a broken mind, and Sophie had left behind an entire family before she could find this new one.

And now Keefe’s mom was just as gone.

The ache in her chest made her want to seek out her own parents once again, to hold them close and make them promise nothing would ever happen to them, as impossible a promise as that would be.

Before she could say anything to Fitz, a tapping against her skin drew her attention away, reached out to her through the deluge and into the little bubble of safety between the two of them, and started dragging her away with a start.

A shuddering breath fell from her lips as she all at once became aware of the wet floral scent of the air, the midday light crawling through the windows, the grains of wood pressing against her skin, the buzz of her wings agitated at her back, the salt in the air from red eyes and swollen sobs, the grief permeating the air.

“You okay?” Wylie asked, retracting his hand from where it had been tapping at her knee.

“I’m--wha--yeah? I’m…good,” she said, glancing around, reorienting herself. “How long was I in there?” she asked, rubbing her fingers across her eyes like she could reach through her eye sockets to her brain and smack some sense into it.

“Fifteen…twenty minutes?” he surmised, though he wasn’t paying much attention to her.

His focus was on Keefe, who had his forehead pressed to Wylie’s collarbone, as though he’d collapsed into his embrace and hadn’t figured out how to get back up.

Wylie’s hand was rubbing soothing circles onto Keefe’s back, who had gone quiet--at least for the moment. Sophie had always had a tendency to push things down enough to be quiet only to be assaulted by the thoughts of everything haunting her later, dragging her down just when she’d thought she’d worked through it. Maybe Keefe was the same.

His wings still burned deep black, absorbing all the light shining across them from the open window, feathers bumping against each other and overlapping, mussed in a way that must’ve been painful, but he didn’t do anything about it.

The lightning strikes of blue had stayed, though. Delicate threads of ice snaking their way through and around the feathers like a marbled pattern, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

“Sorry,” Keefe’s voice croaked out, barely audible against Wylie’s chest.

“You haven’t done anything,” she assured him, gentle. They’d need to be extra gentle with him, she just didn’t know what would happen because of it.

Keefe made a humming noise that said he didn’t agree with her, but wasn’t going to argue. Even though she didn’t want to argue either, she didn’t like the thought that he’d internalize her brief lost wandering in the shared mental space as some grave mistake of his own. Seriously, all it had taken was a tap on the knee to bring her back, and the experience itself hadn’t been stressful.

But Keefe was stubborn.

“Is there anything that we--that I can do for you right now? If you need space or time, or to talk…please don’t push us away, okay? We’re all here. Everyone. Even Tam.” She hadn’t specifically talked to Tam about it, but she still knew it was true without a doubt. Their friendly feud was easily set aside when it really mattered.

Keefe didn’t respond for a long moment, long enough Sophie nearly abandoned her commitment to keep her distance, regardless of the emotions she’d surely barrage him with if she hugged him in his already vulnerable state, but then he lifted his head.

“I need a distraction. Can you…can you bring me to the facility? The one with my…with the being. And bring that riddle while you’re at it.”

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Stellarlune was such a fucking let down.

I've come to serveral conclusions:

First, Sophie is just Shannon's self insert and it took me way too fucking long to realize this

Second, I am sick and tired of the stupid love triangle. Make her bi! Let her kiss Marella or Biana!! Or Lihn! Or enemies to lovers with Stina!! Like for real I'm SO tired of this blue eyed blonde hair love triangle she's got going with Fitz and Keefe.

Also that's another thing, why the fuck am I rooting for them to keep the Council in power when they refuse to actually fucking fix their problems?

Like I'm not going to root for the elf Nazis but come ON there's GOT to be a better option here other than the neverseen or the status quo (which IS what the black swan is at this point fucking FIGHT me)

Also quit forgetting about Jensi! My boy deserves better.

Also that cliffhanger reveal was stupid as fuck sorry not sorry

Also #LetSophieFuckingLoose and #LetHerKillSomone because frankly she needs it even if she doesn't realize it

Also also why the hell are the teenagers the ones taking care of this bs when elves live forever and by all rights they should be treated like newborns still

AERRRRRRRG this series had SO much potential and none of it is being used

I'm forgetting things but point being is: KoTLC would be such a phenomenal series if we weren't on book nine with ZERO end in sight. Seriously, tf this is, the rainbow faries or warrior cats? Or fucking fablehaven?

[tubatoad]

I posted 143 times in 2022

That's 143 more posts than 2021!

46 posts created (32%)

97 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sunnythebunny2

@cashthecomposer

@dying-weeds

@beyoncescock

@thirtysixfrogsinatrenchcoat

I tagged 71 of my posts in 2022

Only 50% of my posts had no tags

#musicals - 10 posts

#love - 8 posts

#kotlc - 7 posts

#newsies - 6 posts

#shitpost - 6 posts

#lol - 5 posts

#music - 5 posts

#tumblr - 4 posts

#livesies - 4 posts

#legally blonde the musical - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 71 characters

#i hope no one’s done this before and i actually had an original thought

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Newsies live if you look closely

During the fight between the police and the newsies Jack shoves Les in the trash can and tells him to stay down but he pops up like a frigging whack a mole

14 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

#4

my english teacher thinks i just have a good vocabulary but really i’m just a fansie with a problem

15 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

#3

Jupiter: Welcome to Applebees! Would you like the apples or the bees?

Morrigan: Bees?

Jupiter: She has chosen the BEEEEESSSSS!!!!!

*Jupiter, Hawthorne, Jack, and a reluctant Cadence appear, and release thousands of dog sized bees into the air*

19 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#2

“Peggy!”

“So’s the Bronx!”

“And I’m Javert!”

same vibes

110 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

✨that note✨ in musicals

please add your own!

Beetlejuice:mama i’m going HOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMEEEEEE

Mamma Mia: The winner takes it ALLLL

Legally Blonde: i pretend like i’m in IREEELLLLLAAAANNNNNDDDDD

Newsies: the poor guys head is SSSSPPPPPIIIIINNNNNIIIIINNNNGGGGG

little shop of horrors: I got garden style, major moves. I got the stuff and I think that proves. You better move it out, nature calls. You got the point, i’m gonna bust your ballls

Hamilton: and when my time is up, have i done enough?

In the heights: It won’t be long noooooowwwwwwww

Into the woods: It’s the laaasssst MIDNIGHT

Dear Evan Hansen: But every sun doesn’t rise, and no one tells you where you went wrong

Hairspray: Maybelles segment in you can’t stop the beat

Wicked: FIYYYYYEEEEERRRRROOOOOO

West Side Story: AND SUDDENLY I FOUND HOW WONDERFUL A SOUND CAN BE MARRRRIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAA

Tick Tick Boom: Sounds like we’re in for a twister, I DONT SEE A RAINBOW DO YOU

Les Mis:RED THE BLOOD OF ANGRY MEN

Hadestown: ALLL IVE EVER KNOWN IS HOW TO HOLD MY OWN BUT NOW i wanna hold you too

Bandstand: CREAM RIIIIISSSSSEEEEESSSS

Anastasia:Once upon a DECEMBEERRRRRRR

230 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

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[linhsong]

feel like we as a fandom do not discuss enough the stereotypical design tropes for the non-white keeper characters. why do linh, tam, and maruca—the few main poc—have dyed hair when no one else does?

sure it looks cool and unique, but the dyed-streak trend is a common enough trope in character designs for poc. there are so many shows and books with only one or two asian characters that almost always seem to have dyed hair/streaks. usually the intent behind this is to make them seem unique, often in place of giving them actual personality/character development. it’s also a way to make their appearances “less boring.” why can’t we have characters with just black/brown hair and dark eyes and have that be interesting enough, when it’s interesting enough for characters with blonde hair and blue eyes? if you feel like your dark-haired, dark-eyed, non-white character isn’t interesting enough, then their appearance is not the problem, it’s your writing.

in the case of the kotlc world, i understand that eye color is a special case—but giving linh, tam, and maruca blue eyes PLUS dyed hair streaks (while none of the other characters have dyed hair) is a form of tokenization and lazy character design/development. although linh and tam’s hair is relevant to their backstory or whatever, if they were written without the silver streaks, the books would be 100% unchanged. it’s not a good enough reason and falls into the trap of being yet another lazy stereotype in the way shannon writes non-white characters.

again, there’s NOTHING WRONG with non-white characters having dyed hair. my problem is that linh, tam, and maruca are racial minorities among the main kotlc cast and share the trend of having dyed hair and (practically) non-existent character development.

[an-absolute-travesty]

Royal Screw-Ups

Blah blah blah you can find the rest of the story at my wattpad @ohwowhatethis and under the tags “kotlc fic” and “keefex” on my blog

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed for this story or just in general): @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percybetn @holesinmyfalseconfidence @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch

Chapter 4:

Word count: 736

Warnings: Arranged marriage talk and talk of homophobia

“Oh, Fitzy boy I think I’m in love.”

Keefe dramatically flopped down on his canopied bed, making Fitz jump out of the way as to not be landed on. 

“Keefe, I hope for your sake and mine that it’s the wife you haven’t even met yet.”

“Unfortunately, no.” 

“Okay, then who exactly is this mystery person?”

“You wouldn’t know him.” Normally Keefe would panic at the slip of the tongue, a man with a man was wrong by their society’s views. Keefe knew his secret would be safe with Fitz, after all Fitz had plenty of them himself. 

“So, how’d you meet him?”

“Why should I tell you?” Keefe said, sitting up. He may not be judged for his attraction to guys, but he’d definitely be judged for claiming he loved someone he’s only met twice. 

“Because, you’ve listened to me ramble on about Tam more times than I can count. I might as well return the favor.”

Oh yes, Keefe knew their story backward and forward. Tam came to the castle for some kind of guard training exchange with Atlantis. Tam and Fitz met, and the rest was history. Now with Tam back at Atlantis, they sent letters to each other often. They were all so sickeningly sweet that Keefe didn’t even try to intrude and read them anymore. It wasn’t fun when it only embarrassed you, not the person receiving the letters. 

Keefe sighed. “Okay, fine, I’ll spill”

And so he did, from their meeting with the dirt all the way to just last night when Dex held his hand. 

Keefe could practically feel the judgement radiating off Fitz. Then he sighed.

“So, you really like this guy?”

Keefe nodded.

“Well then, ok I guess. I mean, it’s better than a girl you’ve never even met before. But, we both see the problem here, right?”

Keefe sighed, of course he did. 

He couldn’t legally marry a man. And due to royal tradition, he had to get married before he was 18. 16 was ideal, and based on the fact that he was meeting his wife in less than 2 weeks, that seemed like the road he was destined to go down. 

“Ugggggggh…” Keefe groaned as he buried his face in a nearby pillow. 

A light rapping came at the door and Fitz walked over to open it. 

“Prince Keefe, your father says there’s someone here to see you.” 

~*~

Keefe reluctantly followed the servant out the door and into the throne room. There he saw a blonde girl and a couple he assumed to be her parents. Unfortunately, his father was also there. 

“Keefe, this is Lord and Lady Ruewen and their daughter Sophie.” Cassius wore his fake smile. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” Keefe did the common courtesy bow. “My apologies, but I was of the belief that you would not be visiting for nearly another week and a half?” Ugh. Keefe hated having to be overly polite. It was exhausting. 

“Yes.” Spoke the blonde man. “That was the original plan, but unfortunately things came up.”

His father’s false smile wavered. “More important things than your daughter meeting her future husband?” 

The girl, Sophie, seemed to recoil at the word. Keefe could feel her disgust from across the room. His father seemed to be able to as well. Emotions that strong were...unusual, to say the least. 

“Well you see,” The redheaded woman started, “We’re getting a new griffin very soon. It’s vital that we stay with it for the next few weeks until it is properly integrated into the shelter.”

Cassius seemed disgruntled that an animal could be more important than his little arranged marriage. Keefe was liking this family more by the minute. 

His dad sighed. “Well, how about the children go to the lawn and talk while the adults discuss the marriage?” he restored his fake smile. 

“Yes, let’s do” 

Cassius waved Keefe and Sophie out of the room and a servant closed the door behind them.

“So…”

“Please don’t talk to me,” Sadness radiated off of the girl as she quickly walked to the outer doors. 

“Wait!” Keefe said as he ran after her. Once they got outside, he positioned himself in front of her so she wouldn’t run away. Only then he realized her strange brown eyes. 

“Look, Sophie right?” 

She nodded.

“I don’t want to do this either. Can we just...talk? For a little bit?”

She hesitated.

“I’m listening.”

[stars-that-do-not-give-a-damn]

KOTLC squad as marvel characters

Sophie: carol danvers. blonde, tired, always standing up for what she thinks is right, woke up one day with superpowers, memory problems, more powerful than anyone else on the planet, "I have nothing to prove to you"

Linh: wanda maximoff. bc she's a precious bean with a lot of power that she has to learn to control, misjudged and treated badly by people who dont understand her, also she's literally a twin, like what else could you possible want??

Biana: pepper potts, kicks ass while looking flawless, literally the only competent person on the team (don't @ me you know its true)

Marella: tony stark. snarky little shit, doesn't care what other people think of her, has power thrust upon her she didn't want but uses it for the greater good, also idk I feel like they would really vibe?

Keefe: loki. little shit, likes to play pranks on people, crap dad, has a complicated family lineage/background and a legacy he doesn't want to uphold, has switched sides in the past but is ultimately trying to help his friends

Tam: bucky barnes. emo, dead inside, likes to style with silver accessories, bangs and eyeliner, has to make sure that his best friends don't get themselves killed doing something stupid, misjudged for his background and circumstances he didn't have control over, but always remains strong

Fitz: thor. born into privilege and power, has a long family legacy he's meant to live up to, actually just a nerd who loves his friends and wants them to be safe. also very stylish and attractive lol.

Dex: bruce banner, super cool science/tech guy!!!! too pure for this world, has some trauma he's had to work through but still continues to help people. completely underrated and overlooked, but 100% the best person ever

sandor: happy hogan. team mum, has to drive places, tired of everyone's shit, not paid enough to deal with this.

fork man: nick fury, literally how did he get all of these children??? he regrets all of his life choices. also idk, a leader dude, runs a secret organisation.

if anyone wants to add on feel free ♥️

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 20: The Altered

word count: 7.7k

chapter summary: Sophie has been running on adrenaline for too long, but now she had to confront the problems she'd allowed to fester and remind herself who her enemies are.

warnings: some mild fighting between friends, unspoken fears, mild panic, skin picking (to the point of pain), swearing, intentional misuse of grammar, and that's really it! Very mild chapter

taglist: I’ll reblog with it. let me know if you want to be added or removed!

that last cliffhanger was a little evil so I don't want to hold you up!

ao3 link here or read below

Sophie Foster haunted herself. Everywhere she went, there she was. Her ideas, her influence, even her face reflected in everything around her. She couldn’t escape her thoughts, couldn’t escape her body, couldn’t get away from herself.

It’d been that way for so long, shadowed by dreams where all she could think of was herself, though her reflection didn’t exist. It’d been that way for so long she’d nearly forgotten that other faces used to follow her, to appear in the shadows, the leaves, the edges of her vision.

Like this one. Sky blue eyes blazing like the sun, blond hair framing his face, but those ears. The points adorning them, that’s what made him stand out.

At least, it had been before.

She had only a moment to take it all in, nearly stumbling back in shock as the knot beneath her ribs ached, empty; she’d used herself up to save that dragon.

Warped and bruised, the skin on his arms appeared brittle and dry, discolored and inhuman, cracks traveling up his arms and disappearing into his shirt--loose but pristine--before reappearing on his chest. Patchy areas of skin shimmered, glistening like scar tissue, divided by those ravines all over his body, a person broken into pieces and reassembled.

Turning, he looked at her. Looked at the two of them, raising a glittering hand in greeting as sparks shot between his fingers.

“Shi--” Sophie managed, but Marella had started moving, marching confidently towards the two of them, a possessive aggression in her gait that nearly stopped Sophie from following after her.

The little girl’s soft gasp could be heard across the space between them, several dozen feet away. Eyes wide as she retracted her hand from the sleeping beast, she nearly tripped on her dress as she stepped back.

“Come along, darling. We’ve done what we needed to,” Fintan murmured to her, crouching down and holding out a disfigured hand, the other reaching for a pocket.

A pathfinder. He pulled out a pathfinder, and as that little girl hesitantly took his hand, something in her snapped. The girl’s heartbeat raced, pulse pounding in her ears as Sophie started forward.

“What are you doing here?” she called out, catching up to Marella to stop her from getting too close. He’d mentored her, but that didn’t keep her safe from anything he could do. If he wanted to hurt her, he would.

They couldn’t fight, but maybe they could talk. Get anything from him, and then get away. She didn’t even know where the question had come from, but she realized it was exactly what she wanted to know. What business did Fintan Pyren have at an abandoned animal preserve housing an injured dragon--with a kid no less?

A feverish grin spliced his face, teeth uncharacteristically sharp as he picked up the girl. “What are you doing with her,” she added, indicating the girl.

The Neverseen had been so resistant to sharing information when caught, but some members had loved to brag, loved to show off. Maybe she could take advantage of that, given that she definitely wasn’t in control of this situation.

But Fintan made no move towards them, no threat of violence in his posture.

His grin soured at the question, lip curling, but that light in his eyes never faded and never would. He was burning alive inside and he loved it.

“Lovely to see you again, Sophie,” he said instead, twisting the pathfinder crystal in his hand. “Marella…” he trailed off, looking her up and down as she studiously ignored him, eyes fixed on that dragon in its slumber, though she didn’t try to break out of Sophie’s grasp. “Interesting. Remember what I told you, the stars and the dreamers. You may not have enjoyed studying under me, but that doesn’t make my teachings less valuable.”

A surge of adrenaline poured through her, letting Marella go to stand fully in front of her as she turned to face Fintan fully, an echo of power building in her chest as she prepared to take the two of them out of there.

“What did you do to yourself,” Sophie couldn’t help but say, stopping short now that all her attention turned to him. It wasn’t what she meant to say, but it slipped out.

The damage was worse up close--by a significant amount. He didn’t even look like himself, but she’d never forget the look on his face when he’d set Oblivimyre alight. It was him, but he didn’t look like a person anymore.

Cracks and scratches marred dry skin, bloodied and bruised and blue and purple and mottled and monstrous in their overtaking of what he used to be.

His eyes. She was close enough to make eye contact and she wished she wasn’t, but Maruca wasn’t here to shield them and she’d rather die than let anything happen to Marella behind her.

A stand off between the two of them, waiting there in that field, but Sophie had the disadvantage. She didn’t know why he was here or what he’d done or what he could do; the sparks shooting out from his fingers, the flames boiling beneath that destroyed skin…

And the girl.

Sophie’d ignored her for the most part, but she couldn’t help but steal a few glances as she retreated into Fintan’s arms, the tulle of her dress all bunched up and falling over itself. She looked too big in his arms, but the blank expression on her face as she turned to him, observing their interaction, glancing back at the dragon, that look existed beyond her years.

Then her eyes turned to Sophie, and she didn’t need to be an empath to see the curiosity that sparked there, the slight movement of her hand reaching out, as though she wanted to get closer. Then she stamped it out, turning back towards Fintan as her hand retreated back within the folds of tulle in the skirt of her dress--blue, soft and light and embroidered with flowers.

“You left, didn’t you,” he said instead, not answering her questions. “Finally got sick of it all. No, that couldn’t be it…” he trailed off, voice a rasp as he lowered it and thought to himself.

“What are you talking about? Sick of what?” Sophie’s nerves refused to loosen and her muscles would ache later, but she couldn’t relax. She’d never had such a calm conversation with a murderer.

He smiled at her, head tilting to the side in a way that definitely wasn’t human. “But do they even know?”

Sophie clenched her teeth, her breath hissing out. “Know what?” If he didn’t start giving her answers she might just break into his head, regardless of the risk. No, she wouldn’t put Marella at risk, she scolded herself.

“Where you are--that gnomish place. Slipped out of their grasp--good. They’ve always been holding you back, haven’t they?” That sick smile remained plastered to his lips, an ease, a confidence riddled with amusement she couldn’t understand radiating from his smug face.

“What do you know about the gnomes?” she demanded, heart thundered in her chest. If he knew where they were--

He waved his hand idly, sparks dripping from his fingers. The little girl’s eyes widened as she watched him and she mouthed the word gnomes to herself. “Oh don’t fool yourself, Moonlark. Everyone’s heard the rumors--but that’s all anyone will believe them to be. I’ve always wanted to find the place, see what happened. Perhaps you’ll finally give me the opportunity,” he laughed, voice cracking, eyes blown out and darting side to side.

So he didn’t know where it was. Relief washed through her for a moment before she threw her guard back up.

“Everyone died. That’s what happened. When you and whoever you teamed up with messed around with the creatures and set them loose on the world,” she spat the words at him, watched something flicker in his face, something pained. “You did all this.”

His smile faded. “Always so quick to jump to the accusations. That hasn’t changed at all.” The last part was mumbled, saying it to himself, almost like he was taking note of it.

“Am I wrong?” She challenged him, wings buzzing behind her as she raised a brow at him. They’d found the Neverseen symbol on the creature’s tags before. She knew he was associated.

He didn’t answer her, and the little girl in his arms was clutching onto his shirt, glancing between the two of them, the increasing tension. She still hadn’t said a word.

Something clicked behind his eyes, a mask falling over his face, that delighted mischief burning there again. Like he’d let her see a glimpse more, but put up the facade once again.

“We’re not so different, you and I,” he told her suddenly, backing a few steps away as he raised the pathfinder. “I’ve only embraced the change. I can’t wait to see what we do with you. Let’s make history again, Sophie Foster,” he grinned, making her physically step back.

Fintan Pyren and the little girl disappeared, his faint bubbling laughter ringing in her ears.

Too much, she decided. Her life was too much and she’d like to switch it out with someone else's for a few days, please and thanks.

“What was he talking about?” Sophie asked, frozen in place, staring at where he’d been only moments before. She’d known, she’d known, that he’d have a part to play in all of this. “About the stars and the dreamers?”

Marella didn’t respond for a moment, so Sophie finally turned to look at her, to observe as she hovered over that slumbering dragon, fingers ghosting over its scales, eyes scanning scanning scanning. For injury? For signs of life? She wouldn’t know.

“I spent a lot of time with him during those lessons,” she said, though her attention didn’t shift as she withdrew a hair tie and began wrapping all her hair and those tiny braids atop her head, messing with the bangs still sticking out. “He said a lot of different things.”

“But he--”

“It’s not important...I probably don’t even remember which lesson he was referencing; there were so many all the time, like he wanted me to know exactly what the reasoning was behind everything, how it would help me.” Sophie would’ve believed her had she not studiously avoided her gaze.

Marella loved to gossip, but her pyrokinetic tricks and talents was the one area she never shared anything about. Entire to herself, that’s how she liked to keep it.

Sophie ran her hands down her face. “So what? We’re just supposed to continue on like Fintan wasn’t right here? With the dragon? That’s the first we’ve seen of him in months! It didn’t even look like him!”

“Then figure something out, Moonlark. I didn’t come here for that. Go home and do that thing you do where you take control and try to find all the answers on your own. But you’re not on your own, you know. There’s a lot of us, and just because you don’t notice everything everyone has to offer doesn’t mean we sit back and let you do everything.

“I have my imparter. I’ll let you know when I need you to come get me or if something happens, but I’m fine on my own.” Marella really hadn’t forgiven her, Sophie realized. She’d taken her at her word, but some foolish part of her thought they’d still be okay, function the same until they both adjusted to her lapse in judgment.

She had to be okay with this.

“Okay,” she whispered, numb as she watched Marella crouch before that dragon’s head, looking over the scratches on its eyes and standing abruptly, starting off towards that shed that’d used to house some of the medications her parents would give the injured they took in.

But she didn’t get to see her reach it; Sophie had already teleported away.

“She asked you to leave her there? And you did?”

Sophie pulled the little bee closer to her chest, bringing her knees up and setting it atop them as she ran her fingers down the bumps of stitching, the chunky yarn composing its body. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Tam had flopped over in the beanbag chair across from him, though it was missing a good amount of filling and he’d sunk much deeper into it than she’d expected.

“Maybe not that,” he suggested, pressing a palm to his forehead like he couldn’t believe her.

“I trust her. I should’ve trusted her from the beginning. She’ll let me know what she needs,” Sophie said again, more to reassure herself than anything. A lot of assumptions. Marella wasn’t very open, and it took an eternity to get past just the first layer of defense to learn the most basic things about her. For someone who talked so much, she expertly avoided bringing herself into the conversation.

“And Fintan?” Tam prompted, looking at her. She’d told him the whole story already, just needing to sort through everything before she brought it before the entire group; she knew she’d need a good bit of loving ridicule and insult.

Who could make fun of her better than Tam?

Scrunching up her nose, she sighed, letting her head fall atop the bee on her knees, though she regretted it when the crystal inside poked into her skin. “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t really thinking through any of my actions though. I mean how could I!” She threw her arms back, splaying out in the chair and looking towards the ceiling.

“By using that brain of yours. You know, the one in your head? That’s what it's for: thinking.” Voice completely dry, he smiled to himself as her face heated, but she didn’t mind the teasing. If she could, she’d find a way to make it so she could never blush again; it always caused her trouble.

“Thinking, huh. Why didn’t I think of that? That would solve all my problems.”

“You didn’t think of it because you weren’t thinking, dumbass,” he retorted, and Sophie groaned. She’d walked right into that one.

They both went quiet, content in the silence of each other’s company. Shadows swirled around the room, condensing and dispersing in a ballroom dance in the corners, beneath the shelves, moving in time to the twiddling of Tam’s blackened fingers.

Thinking. She’d never been too good at that. Mind constantly full, sorting through everything and creating a solid approach often eluded her. The one time she’d really been able to it hadn’t even been her own efforts; everyone had come together to create that plan to destroy the final facility. Where to sneak in and how, what to bring and what it would be made of, the groups and where they’d each go.

So coordinated. It’d been going so smoothly, everything falling into place. They’d finish the mission and get out and go home.

They were supposed to be done after that.

But something had decided to go wrong. Had they truly gotten the room wrong? Was that why it took Dex so long to get it open? No, it couldn’t be.

Could all ten of them really not notice such an integral detail?

Sophie didn’t think they’d ever get back to the people they’d been when they entered that facility, and it wasn’t the wings that’d changed.

They’d fallen apart as a group.

They hadn’t wanted to; they’d all been committed to wherever this new turn would bring them; she had felt the resolve in their minds, the dedication to each other. But it wasn’t enough.

Hardly together as a whole, everyone had kept to themselves. Secrets coalesced in their chests, pulling them further and further apart as their own minds scared them away from each other.

Or maybe that was just her. Maybe she was the weak link.

“Sophie, when I told you to start thinking more, I didn’t mean like that.” Tam’s voice cracked through the haze over her mind, bringing her back to that room, the warped wood of the floors, the torn rugs, the perfume of the air, the rustle of some animal trying to sneak through the leaves.

“Like what?”

He gestured to her. “I can see it on your face. You found one thought and just followed it down down down. I told you to be smarter and learn from your mistakes, not to wallow in them.”

“Is nothing sacred?” she lamented, throwing an arm over her eyes as though the movement would hide the racing of her heart.

“Wrong species to ask,” he said, shrugging, though the movement turned funky halfway through because he was laying down. Cursing to himself, he pushed up, untangling his wings from where they’d gotten caught beneath him. At least, that’s what it sounded like he was doing; she couldn’t see with an arm over her eyes.

Lowering it, she noticed her imparter flash with a message. She’d set it face up on the side table next to her, that way the moment a notification came through she could see it. Every few minutes her eyes went to it despite both of them knowing the foolishness of her actions.

She trusted Marella, she really did. But that wouldn’t ease the panic, the uncertainty, the need to be there for her even if she didn’t want her there.

Sophie Foster put herself in everyone’s lives trying to save them. But they could all save themselves without her.

Pulling it closer, she tucked the bee into her lap, freeing up both hands as she read the message.

But it wasn’t from Marella, asking to come back. It wasn’t her parents trying to find her again, who probably knew she’d found the tracker by now. Nor was it the council or Kesler with an update on the everblaze.

Maruca had sent her a simple four word text:

They’re looking for you.

Of course. Sophie Foster couldn’t seem to catch a single break, couldn’t take one day to herself without something else butting in, causing problems. At this point she should’ve been used to it, expected it--maybe that’s why she’d been so wound up as she joked alongside Tam, waiting waiting waiting for the little trigger that would set the day ablaze.

Sophie didn’t get to relax, hadn’t earned it.

So now she was speed-walking through the village, taking flight only long enough to cross a broken bridge and there were oh so many of those.

How hard was it to get information these days? When it had been…before--she didn’t know how else to describe it--it was as if they couldn't contain themselves, the moment one person knew something it spread like a spark in the desert, everyone in the know by the end of the day. It was even easier for everyone to be in contact with the mindbubble, and she could still feel the faint tugs of everyone else's presence in her mind, the ties she and Fitz had worked to establish, even if they didn’t use it as much anymore.

The adults had truly hated that part of their friendship, the way they functioned independently; it was as if they were in charge and the adults just tagged along. She missed that.

But now wasn’t the time to reminisce. Now, it was as though she had to pry the information out of her friends with teeth and nails.

They’re looking for you. Who? So many people could be looking for her, so why hadn’t she shared anything more? Could she have been more cryptic? Did she mean that her friends needed some input on something--but then why didn’t those friends contact her? Had she missed a tracker and her parents were hot on her tail, ready to bring her back into their loving arms if she would stay still long enough for them to hold her?

Unrelenting, possibilities bombarded her in a torrent as her steps made no noise, heading in a general direction as she latched onto Maruca’s voice in her mind. She hadn’t seen where she was staying, letting her presence in the mindbubble guide her.

Nerves wound near breaking and defeat warring in her mind, she spotted Maruca up ahead, sitting on the edge of an uncharacteristically flat roof, hands clenched in her lap around a clementine and her imparter at her side as she gazed into the forest, as though looking for something, someone.

Clutching Bee closer to her chest, Sophie took off, a brief flight until she set herself down at Maruca’s side, curling her knees up to her chest as she sat, silence weighing on her body like chains determined to make her sink.

She didn’t say anything, letting those chains thicken and drag her down more with each passing second, instead watching Maruca, who watched the forest. Maruca didn’t blink, eyes scanning up and down, side to side, body adjusting minutely as her head shifted. There wasn’t an inch of forest she hadn’t scoured with her gaze.

“I confused you, didn’t I,” she said, startling Sophie, who’d been dreading the silence would stretch into eternity.

Nodding once, she began to fidget with the bee. “Well, it was a very ominous message,” she began, “and you didn’t explain anything else. Hard not to be confused.”

Maruca winced, finally dragging her gaze from the forest to look over at Sophie, exhaling as she relaxed the death grip she had on the unopened clementine.

“Sorry about that,” she said, shaking herself off, eyes still slightly unfocused, but clearer. Like she was trying to break out of a trance. “I was in the middle of something and only had long enough to send that one message, and by the time I was free you were already on your way here so it didn’t make sense to send another.” Her explanation made sense…but what had she been doing that took so much of her concentration, her energy? As far as Sophie knew, everyone was home, casually doing what they needed to--with the exception of Biana, but they couldn’t do anything about that. And Marella, who she was trying not to stress over.

Either way, she shook it off, offering Maruca a small smile. “It’s okay, I understand. But what did you mean? Who’s looking for me?”

“The Council.” She said it with a shrug, so nonchalant that Sophie’s mind stopped working for a moment. But then again…what did that change?

She’d been wanted for so long, how did this confirmation really affect anything? She’d known they weren’t happy with her, wanted her back, and some part of her wondered if they’d been looking for her. If they were it’d be practically impossible to find her, so long as they were careful. With an entire world to scour, how would they find this one village no one had been sure even existed? She didn’t even know where they were on the globe--and the Council couldn’t come on the surface like them to look.

Dex had taken care of the electronics, doing whatever they needed to do to stay hidden and still be able to use them. She hadn’t bothered to ask him about it, but she knew he’d done something.

“And they’re working with your parents to do it,” Maruca added on, and that’s when Sophie’s mind truly short circuited. Oh.

The Council and her parents working side by side to find her, now there was an image that didn’t make sense in her brain.

They must’ve…given up on her. Again and again, they’d tried to reach out to her on their own, maybe even promising the Council they could handle her, that they didn’t need to interfere. And she’d avoided them at every chance, running running running away from who she used to be.

She…liked it up here, with her friends as family, dysfunctional as they’d let themselves become. Oh how she wished her parents could be a part of it all, but it was better like this. They weren’t fighters, and Sophie’s conviction was too strong, the need to protect them overwhelming. They’d try and stop her, she was sure of it.

So they’d given up on trying to reason with her, and now they’d contacted the Council to pool resources, doing what they could from underground to find her.

“I think the Black Swan might be part of it, too.”

“Oh, there’s more,” Sophie mumbled faintly. “I was worried we might’ve had a problem.” Frowning to herself, she took a moment, thinking it all over. Maruca had fed her the information in pieces, and now she tried to put it all together into a big puzzle, except she seemed to be missing a few thousand pieces and also didn’t know what the puzzle looked like.

Circulating the words around in her mind, the world out to look for her--her, not her friends, because she was the one calling the shots and missing the target--she saw Maruca watching her out of the corner of her eye.

Something struck her in that instant, a question. “Wait. How do you know all this?”

Maruca winced again, averting her eyes as her muscles tensed, squishing that clementine, but she quickly released them. She tilted her head to the side, as though considering the best way to say it, sharp talons cutting through the skin of the fruit in her hand, peeling it.

“Well…Stina told me.” She nodded towards the imparter at her side.

Sophie picked her head up off her knees, dropping her legs over the side of the roof like Maruca, clasping her hands together, struggling to keep a poker face. She didn’t know Maruca as well as she should’ve so she didn’t want to leave a bad impression.

“Care to elaborate?” she breathed, mind already spinning a million different directions. “She doesn’t know where we are, does she?” The last part blurted out against her will, the question demanding. If Stina knew and the Council found out--

“Okay, calm down,” Maruca said, holding out her hands placatingly. “She doesn’t know.” Sophie deflated, heart trying to calm itself. “Let me explain--it’s not bad.”

“Sorry,” Sophie laughed, face flushing as she averted her gaze. Maybe she was more strung out than she’d realized, teetering dangerously close to the edge, Marella’s absence grating on her more than she’d realized what with Fintan’s surprise reappearance.

For a brief moment, she wondered if he was trying to find her too--he’d said he wanted to see the village, and he knew that she was here, just didn’t know where here was. She pushed the thought away.

Maruca gave an apologetic smile. “It’s understandable. We all are…struggling to be open right now, I think. So I hid this and then it just grew into this big secret and I didn’t know how to tell you. I was worried about how you’d react, but it’s going better than I expected.” She frowned to herself, picking up the clementine again.

“When did you get so mature,” Sophie asked under her breath, but she straightened. “Okay. So you have a secret and shared part of it with me and I’m doing just fine. Sorry you caught me off guard, but I’m okay. I won’t overreact.” She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile, determined to hear the rest of what Maruca had to say.

“Well…” she began, seeming to have found the right words now. “You know how I kept in contact with Stina in the Underground?” Sophie nodded. The elven world had been split into pieces, multiple underground cities carved into the earth, so naturally friends had been wrenched from each other. Stina had wanted to be with their group, to continue helping, but her parents had insisted otherwise. The Hekses lived in a different Underground, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t stay in touch.

“I kept in contact with Stina even after we left, you know, because she’s my friend,” Maruca continued. “And when she found out what we’d done…well, first she wanted to come join us. But we both knew that was a terrible idea. So she’s been trying to help from where she is, which is finally paying off.” Maruca smiled to herself, a look of satisfaction gracing her features. There were deep shadows under her eyes, but Sophie didn’t know what she’d been losing sleep over. She was tempted to ask.

“What do you mean?” she asked instead, because she truly was curious.

“Do you know which Underground Stina lives in?” Maruca asked back, as though trying to lead Sophie to the answer to her own question.

Sophie leaned back on the roof, mindlessly securing Bee to her lap with one hand, thinking back on those first days, when everything had shifted. There’d been a reason Stina hadn’t come with them, something her parents wanted. Distance from her? For their daughter to be away from her influence? But that also separated her from Team Valiant, the prestigious group they loved her place in.

After a moment, she shrugged. There were several Undergrounds, but she didn’t know Stina’s parents enough to know the intricacies of their decision. And she hadn’t kept up with Stina as much as Maruca evidently had. She stopped trying to figure it out, instead letting Maruca tell her.

Maruca smiled. “Stina’s parents wanted to live in the same Underground as the councillors, Sophie. She’s where they are. She can find things out from the inside.”

Oh. Oh. “She’s spying on them,” she realized, mumbling the words to herself as her mind struggled to accommodate this into her understanding of the world. What did this mean for them? How did she get the information she did, relay it to Maruca how she had. What did she have access to?

Maruca had said it was finally paying off, so she’d been trying for a while. How much information could one person gather? All these questions tumbling around in her mind, trying to put together that puzzle, but now a crucial piece had offered itself up.

“I don’t know exactly how she does it--she won’t tell me in case they find our messages to each other. But she heard them talking to your parents, talking about you. And it seems like your parents were talking about the Black Swan. Everyone wants a piece of you, Soph,” she laughed. “But now we know, at least. That gives us something.”

That gave them something, indeed. That gave them everything.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me,” she said. She needed to spend more time with Maruca--with everyone. How much had she been missing as she let herself spiral away?

It didn’t matter. She would fix it, reach out and extend an olive branch one by one if she had to, anything to patch their group back together.

“Of course. We’re family now. Clementine?” Maruca asked, grinning as she held out the fruit.

Sophie took a slice and grinned back.

“Do you ever think about birds? I don’t understand them,” Keefe said, casually waving his hands towards the air. Flat on his back--well, flat as he could be--he stared up into the sky, having moved not a single inch from the spot Sophie had found him in.

Sitting next to his head, she propped her chin up on her palm and looked down at him.

“Why do you need to understand birds?” she asked instead of answering the question. She’d never admit it, but she had thought about birds before. She didn’t know why she was treating it like a taboo subject, like she couldn’t divulge to anyone that the animal graced her thoughts from time to time.

He scrunched his nose up, thinking--about birds, probably--before he sighed. “Because my friends keep turning into birds, Foster.”

“They what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Have you seen the Fitzter? Every time I see him he’s more and more like a bird, and it doesn’t make any sense. Why would he want to be a bird? And he’s not the only one--Dex is also a bird. What’s the appeal?”

Sophie blinked for a moment, trying to follow his logic. “They’re not--you do realize they’re not actually birds, though, right?” She said, stumbling over the words. “Their wings are like birds but they’re still people. I haven’t turned into a bumblebee. Like those are still…that’s still Fitz and Dex, not two birds.”

Keefe put his hand to his chin in thought, looking her over as though trying to determine whether or not she had turned into a bumblebee. But the twitching of his lips as he tried to fight a smile gave him away, the laugh bubbling through as he turned back towards the sky.

“I dunno, maybe they’re tricking us. Maybe they really are birds and they’ve fooled us all into thinking they’re people. Either way, I don’t understand why anyone would want to be a bird.” He made a face, eliciting a sharp laugh from Sophie, who leaned back.

“Sorry,” she said as he looked to her, betrayed. “You just surprised me. Why…why are you worried about your friends being birds? Is this an issue I should bring to everyone’s attention? Do we need to call a family meeting?”

Keefe frowned, then abruptly, sat up, moving fast enough had she still been leaning close they would’ve bonked heads. Murky and undefined, light greys soured darker, wings spreading slightly behind him.

Opening his mouth a few times, his face flushed, for once someone other than her blushing. Patient, Sophie waited for him to find his words, a sense of building pressure raising the hairs on her arms.

She’d sought out Keefe after bidding Maruca farewell, the clementine’s slightly sour tang still haunting her tongue. But she didn’t want to be alone, and there was someone who would talk to her about anything and make it easy.

Well, she hadn’t intended to find him, but instead stumbled into him on one of the many platforms crawling around the trees--literally, he’d been laying on the ground and she’d walked right into him.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, brow furrowed as he stared somewhere over her head. “The…calling them birds, talking about it like that, it’s easier. To talk about serious things with funny words, because then I don’t have to think about it. I can pretend this isn’t real.”

Sophie watched his face for a moment, to see if he’d say anything else before opening her own mouth. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a lot easier to complain about birds than to worry if your friends are still themselves…if you’re still yourself,” she added at the end, trailing off as she looked away. She hadn’t meant to say that.

Shaking herself off, she tapped her fingers along Bee, who was sitting next to her. She’d grown strangely attached to the little thing in the short time since she’d discovered it.

Keefe saw the diversion and jumped at the chance, reaching out to grab Bee from beneath her, tossing it back and forth between his hands, the ghost of a smile haunting his lips.

“Hey,” Sophie complained, though there was no venom behind the word, just faint loving annoyance.

Turning to face her, he looked down at Bee. “So what’s the deal with this thing? Ella wasn’t cutting it anymore?”

“Something like that.” She watched him toss it back and forth for another moment before adding, “I found it here, actually. In a little thing beside my bed. And seeing as it’s a bee, it seemed perfect, you know? Even the colors,” she nodded her head towards it, indicating the black and blue stripes.

Keefe held it up in front of him, comparing the person before him with the bee he held, both of them silent as he made his assessments.

Neither of them spoke for an uncomfortable length of time once he set it down, each looking around the area, searching their minds for something--anything--to say. They didn’t want this moment to end, but both of them knew why they’d found each other.

They didn’t want to face the world.

As long as the two of them sat here, joking, they didn’t have to do anything else. Sophie didn’t have to think about the riddle two councillors had left burning in her phone, or the blaze she’d sparked, what Fintan was doing and who that little girl was, what Phoenix was, or even how her injuries ached, so close to healing but not quite there. And whatever secrets Keefe was avoiding, as long as he was joking alongside her he didn’t need to think of them, which he’d surely been doing before she tripped over him.

Find something, she urged herself, keep talking. That way she could stop thinking.

Neither of them had the chance to say anything more, however, as her imparter lit up in her pocket, casting a glow across her chest as she slid it out.

Maruca hadn’t sent her another cryptic message and for that small mercy she was relieved. Looking to Keefe apologetically, she waved the imparter in his direction like it was some sort of explanation.

“Marella,” she said. “Gotta go.”

Keefe nodded, giving a flourish with his hand to indicate she should proceed with whatever she needed to do, a joking dismissal; they both knew she didn’t need his permission

After a moment of hesitation, she decided to leave Bee in his care, settling it gently in his lap before darting to the edge of the wrapped platform, not bothering to look to the ground as she hopped over the railings, plummeting into the void, the echoes of the words Keefe had rushed past ringing in her ears.

I can pretend this isn’t real.

Once upon a time, homework had been the most inconvenient thing Sophie had to deal with. Papers and assignments piled on her desk, never ending folders and over the top organization as if enough color coding would make the world make sense.

Nothing made sense anymore and she was tired of it. The moment she’d left Keefe’s side her thoughts had come back, violent and unending and tearing her to pieces. No amount of rest would undo the damage she’d done to herself, to her family. And every day she kept living it, kept breathing and hurting and working. Another paper, another color, another day. She was running out of words, out of worlds.

Feeling rebellious but only in the smallest of ways, she’d perched atop her desk, ignoring the chair. It didn’t really do anything, just made her feel like she was breaking the rules, almost comical aside all the rules--laws--she dismissed and flaunted in everyone’s faces.

But doing something silly like that distracted her from remembering the troubled expression on Marella’s face as she’d picked her up, the half-hearted conversation because she was too lost in thought.

That image, the puckered brow and chewed lips, the scratches on her hands and the hair falling from its updo, that was one she’d never forget.

She needed something to do or she’d drive herself up the walls, and as much as she hated it, it needed to be safe. Elwin wouldn’t be very happy with her if she interrupted the healing process again.

So something here, then. No more running out into the night on her own, at least for now. She’d be good, star patient, and stay home until she was okay. And then Elwin wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore, could focus his energy on Biana…though it didn’t sound like there was anything he could truly do for her.

Surveying her nails, starting to pick at her cuticles, her mind wandered. Dangerous, but it filled the time. There had to have been something about that day that she remembered, something she wasn’t thinking of right now. Biana had disappeared and reappeared unconscious. She’d been there and then she wasn’t. But that wasn’t unusual; Biana vanished all the time.

So was that it? She’d vanished and Sophie had lost track of her? It couldn’t be that simple, could it? No, that didn’t explain how she’d gone missing for so long, why she wouldn’t wake up.

She’d already gone over the incident with Elwin, the last time she’d seen Biana, but was there something else? Something she hadn’t gone through.

Playing through the night again, she watched Biana through her memories, the feeling of her hand against her palm, the sound of her silence, the rustle of her delicate wings, how her arm had held Sophie back as she stepped out of the facility and into the cave, the coughing and then--gone. She’d hadn’t seen her until Marella had brought her back alongside the little echo.

That’s all there was. That’s what she’d told Elwin.

But something nagged at her, pushed her. This couldn’t be it. What was she missing?

For some reason beyond her understanding, she continued with the playthrough, watching herself crash to the ground, seeing that dragon and Marella burning alive before it, the echo lighting up the room, and then--

A single moment caught in her mind, like a broken record, playing over the same beat over and over and over again, never moving, every part of her focused on that one instance.

Something screamed.

From way off in the distance.

Wretched and wet and echoing.

She hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t given it any thought except that there was something waiting there, setting off any others like a switch, Marella had stared at her burning alive and all she could do was react in defense, the threat in front of her.

But she wasn’t in danger right now, so she could think it over, ignore the panic of her racing heart in that cave, listen to that scream over and over and over again.

Biana.

But was that her screaming? Or had she awoken something much, much worse.

Again and again Sophie warned herself not to think, not to dwell on the past, the world that had been torn from her and the one she’d left behind. And yet the more she stopped thinking, the more she did, the more reckless and dangerous she became.

It had seemed ill advised to walk into the forest following a strange cat-like creature, but it was a single instance that sent her questioning everything she knew. That monster…she tried not to think about it, about the doubts it gave her, the cracks in the foundation of her new world.

But that monster had been one instance when she could slip through the attention of her peers. Now, it was a regular occurrence to disregard what she should do, to purposefully reach for the adrenaline and not even stop to think of a second plan. Whatever the first idea she thought, that’s what she did.

Was that why she hadn’t looked for Biana? Her first thought after losing her had been Marella, so she’d gone to her instead. Did she really have to choose? Going back through her memories, she’d found a scream, information she didn’t know was there because she didn’t think it existed. But her mind was wrong with increasing frequency, the thought sending mind-numbing terror down her spine.

She couldn’t afford to keep being wrong.

A pain in her hand shocked her out of her spiral, just enough to catch her attention, but she dragged herself back into awareness, her backside numb from sitting so still on her desk for so long.

Red. Her cuticles were raw and red from picking at them as she’d thought, until finally an area had become sensitive enough it brought her back to life when she’d poked it.

Disoriented, she blinked around the room--how long had she been there? It couldn’t have been too long, but the discomfort of her legs alongside that numbness indicated she hadn’t moved in a while.

Wincing as she stretched, her mind raced, trying to organize itself into something she could work with. She’d been walking through the day as if in a daze, going from place to place and friend to friend, going through the motions without really being there, pulled under by her own despair, her confusion.

But something had screamed, and Sophie Foster was finally awake.

Exhaling with purpose she lowered herself onto the floor, her brief moment of rebellion by sitting atop it gone with the wind as she made for the door. Night greeted her, cool darkness against the warmth of her skin, twinkling stars mumbling their greetings.

The door swinging softly to a close behind her, she started out into the village. Once again traveling it by night, the flowers coating the roofs, the trees, the moss a color so vivid they belonged in an animated movie, soft lines and colors too pure, too good to be true.

She’d been sitting stationary for too long, not just physically, but mentally. Rushing into thing after thing, forgetting that progress came from patience, from resilience, repetition. And now that she’d realized her mistake, she couldn’t move fast enough.

Bare feet scuffing against the damaged wood of her home, the foliage rushed by, petals stirred up by the breeze of her passing.

A plan, she realized, she hadn’t thought of one. Sophie didn’t know what she’d do when she got there, just that she’d figured something out and she couldn’t sit still.

Someone had screamed and it might’ve been Biana, and Elwin needed to know.

There. She could see the building, it’s unique shape wrapped around a tree, blossoms spilling off the roof and the windows slightly ajar--

and spilling speckled light into the night.

Why? Why would Elwin have any lights on still, dark as it had become outside, enough to make the building faintly glow. If he was working into the night, whatever it was he did, he was his own light source, something he could move from place to place, control the intensity of. Whenever she’d caught him working in the dark before, he’d never had more than two balls of light to guide him, hovering just over his shoulders.

Sophie came to an abrupt stop, a bridge away from the building, all of her questions answered in a single glimpse.

She could see through the window from here, the room within glowing--but not with Elwin’s light, no. This was a thousand little flickers, ember-like in their intensity, floating all around the room, a gentle snowstorm of light, reminiscent of fireflies.

And within the center, sitting with perfect posture on the bed, wings spread and flickering in the soft light, was a figure.

Biana was awake.

[song-tam]

So I Wrote You A Song - Tam x Keefe

A/N: So this is finally done? I’m freaking out because this idea has been circling in my head for a while and I am so glad it is finally done! This is basically a high school!band!AU and I did headcanons about the four keeper boys being in a band here, which was kind of the inspiration to do a oneshot. Plus, I’m absolute Kam trash as well... and yes I did write an actual fucking song purely for the sake of the oneshot I’m just that extra don’t judge me and enjoy! (also let’s pretend Elwin adopted Keefe shall we, cassius sencen who?)

Warnings: I think there’s like a minor curse word in there but other than that pure kam fluff

Word Count: 1.4K

Taglist: @stardustanddaffodils @dreaminq-out-loud @sunset-telepath @summer-waves9764 @falling-drops-of-rain @jenniecrushed @jaxtheshade @beautifuldaysahead​ @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @the-genius-behind-the-mask​ @real-smooth @scribblesnsketches05 @the-sky-isnt-blueee @spreadyourwingsandfly @cadence-talle @linhamon2 ​ @xonar-verse​ @an-absolute-travesty​ @hershis-kotlc​ @turquoise-skyyyy​ @blxckh0les42​ @completekeefitztrash​ @gay-paladin-of-etheria​ @the-robins-chronicles @the-angel-of-all-storms

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“Okay, I don’t care what any of you say, but you sounded awesome!” Biana shrieked as the boys finished playing their latest song. “Best you’ve ever played, in fact.” The brunette had quickly become their biggest fan after they’d started playing for an audience, constantly stopping by rehearsals, screaming about them to everyone she met, and nominating herself Crystal Gambit’s manager--and she actually did a pretty good job; half the gigs they’d landed wouldn’t have happened without her.

“You say that every rehearsal,” Fitz grinned. “The sentiment is appreciated, though.”

“Oh, you were kind of awful,” Biana replied, “but the rest of you rocked it.”

Fitz scowled, and the others laughed, but in truth, Fitz was probably the best musician out of all four of them. Or the best singer, at least--his voice was amazing.

“But, Tam,” Biana continued, spinning around to face him, “you killed on the drums. I have no words.”

Tam gave her a small smile. If he was being honest, he never really knew what to do when Biana--or anyone really--complimented him. “Thanks, Bi.”

“And the new song you wrote,” Biana pressed, “what are you calling it again? You kept talking about it and now I’m excited so--”

“Wait,” Keefe interrupted, holding a hand out to stop Biana from rambling. “New song? What new song?”

Fitz looked just as confused as Keefe, but Dex knew exactly what Biana was talking about, and at least the periwinkle-eyed boy had the sense to save Tam from confessing. “Biana’s talking about that song Tam showed us earlier,” Dex lied. “Y’know, the work in progress. It’s a rough draft, Bi, and Tam’s only written the chorus.”

Biana caught on quickly and her eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “Oh. Oh. Yeah, for some reason I thought it was finished… um, but the chorus was great! I’m looking forward to the rest of it. Anyway, uh,” she grabbed her backpack and her brother’s arm, “Fitz and I should probably get going. Mom wants us home a little earlier today.”

“Thanks for the save,” Tam whispered to Dex as Fitz and Biana left.

Dex winked. “No problem. I know you aren’t ready to sing him the song yet.”

“Well, actually… I’m planning on confessing soon. Just not in front of an audience.”

“Well, good luck. Not that you’ll need it.”

“I’m going to need all the luck I can get, Dex.”

Dex snorted. “Come on. Everyone can see the way you two look at each other. Honestly, it’s surprising you two aren’t dating already.”

Before Tam could stammer out a response, Keefe slung his arms around both him and Dex. “Guys, don’t leave me out of this secret,” the blond pouted. “I’m lonely.”

Tam rolled his eyes, but really he was trying not to blush at how incredibly close the two of them were standing together. He was not going to think about how Keefe’s arm was around his shoulder, how Keefe smelled like vanilla, and--

Shut up, brain, Tam commanded himself.

“Shit,” Dex muttered, looking down at his watch. “You guys are gonna have to leave… Mom’s insisting that we go out for dinner, sorry...” But one look in his direction and Tam knew that Dex wasn’t the least bit sorry, that he didn’t have to go anywhere, and that this was all an act to get Keefe and Tam to be alone.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keefe said cluelessly. “Bangs Boy and I have some things to discuss.”

“Do we?” Tam cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Keefe said stubbornly, dropping his arm from Tam’s shoulder and grabbing his hand instead, dragging him out of the garage and outside. “Come on, come to my house--Elwin’s making dinner, he won’t mind if there’s another person.” Keefe smiled and Tam’s heart started doing cartwheels.

Honestly, Keefe, Tam thought as he stared at their intertwined hands. I’m already in love with you, so stop making me fall even harder, goddammit.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tam pulled out of Keefe’s grip and studied his reaction. Keefe seemed fairly indifferent to it, though his brows seemed to furrow a bit… but maybe Tam was just imagining things. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.

But… every passing touch, every soft smile. It always felt like there was something more between every glance they shared, every word they said. There was more to the two of them, more to their relationship than they were admitting.

“Since when do you have an acoustic guitar?” Tam asked as they entered Keefe’s messy bedroom.

“Well, you started learning,” Keefe said with a one-shouldered shrug. “I couldn’t let you one-up me, now could I?”

Tam rolled his eyes. “Always a rivalry with you.”

“Only with you, Bangs Boy, you’re special that way.” Keefe winked. “Anyway, what’s that song Biana was talking about? The one you haven’t shown to me and Fitzy?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tam fibbed.

Keefe looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You’re really gonna try and hide it? Come on, dude, I know you--and I know whatever you’ve written will be even better.”

“It isn’t a song for the band, it’s… it was just something I wrote.”

“So there is a song! But even if it isn’t for an audience, or even for rhe four of us to play, I want to hear you. So,” Keefe gestured to his guitar, “can I hear it?”

Tam hesitated for a second. Was he really ready to do this? Ready to confess. Yes, he thought. I’m tired of him not knowing how I feel. I’m tired of not knowing if he feels the same.

He summoned courage, strummed the opening chords on the guitar, and started to sing.

There’s something that I’ve been meaning to say A truth I’ve been hiding for who knows how long My heart holds a secret, it’s been kept locked away And you might think it isn’t real, that I’ve got it wrong

But I think I kind of love you When I’m lost in the dark, you’re my light I know how cliche it sounds but it’s true I promise, it’s true that I love you

I know after this you might hate me And I won’t blame you if you don’t feel the same But I had to tell you, had to set these words free Because I think you like me too, so can we stop playing this game?

I think I kind of love you When I’m lost in the dark, you’re my light I know how cliche it sounds but it’s true I promise, it’s true that I love you

Why do we keep dancing around our feelings? Why do we keep pretending that this isn’t real? Because it is I know it is, and I know you know too So can we maybe just try this Try this and see where it goes?

I think I kind of love you When I’m lost in the dark, you’re my light I know how cliche it sounds but it’s true I promise, it’s true that I love you

Tam opened his eyes, watching Keefe’s expression, worried of what he might say. This is it, it’s over, a voice inside told himself, but another part said, You did it.

“Was,” Keefe said softly as he connected the dots, “was that about me?”

Tam nodded slowly, still studying Keefe’s face. “Um. Yeah, yeah it was. And… it was all true.”

Keefe shook his head dazedly, not saying anything, just staring at the floor.

“Keefe? Say something, please.”

The blond looked up to meet Tam’s eyes, and Tam gulped, wondering if this was it, when he was rejected, when his heart was broken, when--

Suddenly Keefe’s lips were on his and they were kissing and oh.

The kiss was everything. It was soft, and sweet, and filled with yearning and love and dreams and felt like fireworks. He tastes like vanilla, Tam noted.

Keefe pulled away for breath, and Tam felt a teensy bit disappointed, but that feeling was lost in the thought that Oh my God, I just kissed Keefe Sencen.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Keefe whispered softly, “I love you too.”

Tam felt euphoric at his words, it was all he’d been wanting to hear for he couldn’t remember how long. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

“Enjoyed that kiss, huh?”

“Just shut up and kiss me again, will you?”

[song-tam]

The Prince and the Thief - Chapter One: That Fateful Bag of Gold - Tam x Keefe

A/N: Yes it is back, I am back with the series, I’m finally publishing the first official chapter and not just the prologue. I’m way too excited for this and I can’t believe I actually finished the chapter, it dragged on forever. Oh, and yes, the girl in the glasses is Sophie, even though they don’t know it yet, and she will come into play later on in the series, so be prepared for that. 

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: minor curse words, being disinherited, mentions of and attempts at stealing, Tam’s a little bit angsty, being pinned down, mentions of being tied up, mentions of Cassius Sencen—I think I got them all, but tell me if there are any other warnings I should add!

Prologue | Series Masterlist

“Did you hear about King Cassius disinheriting the young prince? His own son!”

Crown Prince Keefe Sencen—or just regular Keefe now, he supposed—stiffened at the gossip from the passerby. He didn’t particularly enjoy being reminded that he’d been stripped of his royal title, his crown, everything he’d ever known. He’d never liked his father, sure, Keefe was glad to be away from him, but life in the palace… that was all he knew. He didn’t know how the outside world worked. He didn’t know how to survive on the streets. He didn’t know any skills that might actually be useful. And yet here he was—no protection, having only the clothes on his back and a small bag of gold. 

Here, without a crown, Keefe was about as wanted and important as a dead rat.

Keefe sighed and started making his way down the street, anxious to get away from it all, figuring he’d find a tavern to stay the night and figure it out from there. He had enough gold for that, right? Problem was, Keefe had no idea where the hell he would find a tavern, or really where anything was in the kingdom.

Keefe groaned softly, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m doomed.”

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Tam Song had found a new target--and boy, was this one going to be easy.

The boy could have barely been older than Tam, maybe sixteen, seventeen at most. He was tall, blond, and completely out of place out on the streets. From the crisp white tunic and and clueless expression on his face, Tam could easily tell that he was a highborn. Maybe a count’s son, or even a duke’s.

What a member of high society would be doing in one of the worst parts of Erisdell, Tam had no idea, but so long as he got his money, he didn’t give a shit.

The boy had a bag--probably filled with some silver, if Tam was lucky, gold--strapped to his belt. He wasn’t bothering to protect it or even put up his guard. Typical.

“Highborns like you are just asking to get robbed in the slums,” Tam muttered as he started maneuvering through a crowd, flexing his fingers, ready to grab the loot and sneak away before the boy even noticed it was missing.

Tam reached for the bag, wrapping his hand around it, and--

“Oof!” A girl with blond hair suddenly bumped into Tam, who went flying into the boy and all three of them were sprawled into a pile on the ground.

“Watch it,” Tam hissed at the blonde, who nodded clumsily and started feeling around for her glasses, which had flown off her face when they’d all collided.

“I am so, so sorry,” the girl squeaked out as she scrambled to her feet, and promptly ran away.

Muttering to himself, Tam started dusting his pants and getting ready to make a narrow escape. The girl had complicated things, but he could still steal the money and get out of there. He’d be one step closer to getting Linh back.

A hand grabbed his wrist and Tam jumped, sure it was one of the kingdom patrols in charge of wrangling up Erisdell’s thieves. Tam was good at what he did and he knew how not to get caught, but he’d still had a few encounters with patrols and he wasn’t looking for one now.

But it was only the boy, still on the ground, but glaring at Tam and glancing at the bag in his hand. “That’s mine,” he said gruffly. “You’re a thief.”

Tam rolled his eyes. This was getting more complicated than Tam wanted, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. If he timed it right, he could still get out of here--and worst case, he probably could take this highborn, though throwing hands would draw more attention than wanted. “Obviously, I’m a thief.”

The boy seemed taken aback that Tam had admitted to it, but nodded curtly. “Well, now that I’ve caught you, you can’t steal my gold anymore. So give me my bag and go pickpocket someone else.”

Oh my God, if he stays here in the slums, he’ll be dead within the week.

Tam didn’t care, though. Whether this boy lived or died didn’t matter to him. It may have been a coldhearted mindset, but it kept him alive. He couldn’t afford to worry about anyone but himself--he was just trying to survive, and maybe if just kept going, he’d find someplace better than this. He’d get out of the slums, if he was lucky out of Erisdell, and he’d make a new life for himself. Leave his past behind and get a better future than the present he was living in.

He’d find Linh again.

But for all of that to happen, he’d need money. And that bag was one step closer to everything he wanted.

Besides, a highborn like this boy didn’t know how to appreciate money. Tam stealing his gold might reflect badly on him, but at the end of the day, what did he care? Daddy probably had a vault full of gold somewhere in a fancy manor. This was barely a dent in his fortune.

“You’ve got plenty of money,” Tam muttered, trying to worm out of the boy’s grasp. “I need this more than you.”

“This is all I have left,” the boy replied, his eyes narrowing.

“You expect me to believe that? This time next year, you’ll probably be inheriting a fortune, a dukedom. This bag of gold is worthless--”

“It’s not worthless to me. I need it. It’s all I have left,” The boy wrenched the bag of gold from Tam’s grip, getting to his feet and glowering even harder.

Tam blinked--it had been a while since someone had gotten the better of him--but quickly regained his senses and dodged for the bag. The boy moved out of the way, and they kept at this dance for a minute or so, Tam trying to steal and the boy trying to avoid being stolen from.

Is this really worth it? A voice inside Tam’s head whispered. There are other pockets to pick. This’ll attract unwanted attention.

Yes. Tam gritted his teeth. Nobles like the boy, they didn’t show up in the slums often. Money like this, in this part of Erisdell… it was scarce. But if Tam had a chance to get his hands on some gold, no matter how small the amount, he sure as hell was going to take it.

Whatever it took.

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Keefe wondered why this guy was so adamant about stealing from him.

He understood the dude was a thief, but surely there were easier targets?

Then again, after living in the palace and being coddled for so long with no survival skills, he was easy a target as any.

Could he make a run for it? Or the patrols! There were many patrols that had been placed in the slum sectors of Erisdell, specifically to catch thieves and keep everything in order as much as possible. Problem was, there didn’t seem to be any patrols around.

“I--” Keefe started to say, but he was suddenly pinned to the ground. He thought it might’ve somehow been the boy, but Keefe turned his head to the side and noticed the boy was also on the ground, scowling.

“Who the hell are you?” the boy snapped.

Keefe heard someone cluck their tongue behind him, though he couldn’t see their face. “Now, that is no way to talk to your former boss, is it, Tam?”

All color drained from the boy’s--Tam’s--face. “You,” he hissed. “I told you I was done stealing for you, and I won’t do it again, not after--”

“Calm down,” the voice said relaxedly. “I wouldn’t take you back anyway. I’m just going to give you a warning--my targets are mine and mine alone. You can still scavenge like the street dog you were before I made you something, but those big targets… you don’t get to go anywhere near them.”

“Tie them up,” the voice commanded to whoever was holding Keefe and Tam down. “Leave them in an alley. If they’re lucky, someone will find them.”

“And if they aren’t, well… problem solved.”

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