#the last time i had a 24 hour-access final i nearly passed on so wish me luck i'll see you all on the other side with more memes and fun

[mikecrewsteacup]

i am finally ALMOST in the last week of my semester, so i can finally get back to all my hobbies that require brainpower in 7-8 business days..... well in that + some recovery time

i have unresponded-to messages and memes and tagged things that i genuinely cannot wait to get back to, but they're all probably going to wait until after i've hit "submit" on my last final bc boy has this past academic year been a rough one

[midnightsnace]

A Thousand Worlds

Summary: Fix it fic of sorts after the trauma that was episode 6 of the Loki series. Loki is in pain after discovering Mobius doesn’t remember him. He’s been living in apocalypses to avoid capture by this new TVA until he formulates a plan to get his Mobius back.

Rating: T for later chapters

Emotional angst.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

“And so that’s where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds.”

The ends of a thousand worlds. The words of his accomplice echoed through the god’s mind as he fiddled with the straps of his worn and tattered holster. The fluorescent above him flickered with every gust of wind that battled against the sides of the building that Loki was crouched down in. He slid his long legs out against the tiled floor in front of him and sat with his head propped against the wall. He sighed. Loki tapped his foot on the door of the space he was hiding in to close it, drowning out the cries of fear from the people outside in their final hours of life. There he sat waiting for the tempad to charge. Alone. Living in another world where every person he met would be dead by the end of the day. Another world where Mobius didn’t exist. His Mobius.

Was this what it was like? For her? To never be able to stay in one place for more than a day? To always see the same faces riddled with fear as they awaited their painful fate? To only know destruction, screaming, fires, earthquakes, the literal gates of hel? To be utterly alone with your only desire to live in the hope that one day your glorious purpose would be fulfilled?

Glorious purpose.

Loki scoffed. The god didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. Taking down the TVA was a complete failure. The chances for fixing the mess they started seemed impossible now as branches grew and new timelines erupted, with endless TVAs to monitor every universe. At least, that’s what Loki assumed. He knew next to nothing about what they had unleashed. It wasn’t the same TVA. Different hunters, different analysts, different ruler. Many he recognized, but they were still different people. They weren’t the same. She wasn’t the real B. He wasn’t his Mobius. And Loki was at a complete loss on how to find them again.

The first tempad he stole only brought him back to the place he snatched it from. The same Time Variance Authority where Mobius didn’t remember him and not a single file existed for Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, God of Outcasts, God of Lies. Even when he dragged the analyst through the timedoor into the roxxcart parking lot to access his memories, nothing existed of him. No laughter over silly metaphors, mischief at pompeii, not even the memory of their first encounter in the elevator. It was like they never met. This led to Loki wasting away their days hopping from one disaster to the next until his brain racked up a solution. The TVA never once did follow him. Why would they? No one remembered his brilliant discovery about the apocalypses. He could run free. But as the days whittled by, the hope Loki had began to fade into nothingness.

For awhile he kept track of the places he went and the time that had passed.

Day 1 - I finally stole a tempad and left that dreadful place. I came here first. Hoping I’d see you. But I guess that’s not how time travel works in apocalypses. No trace we were ever here. The storm reminded me of my brother. I hope to see him again one day. Now that I know we could have been friends. Everything was eventually going to be okay.

Day 24 - I’ve been sitting in a coffee shop awaiting the earthquake of 2098. Met a lovely redhead with the most peculiar of tattoos. But alas! Little does she know this friendship could never blossom in the wake of death!

Day 37 - I miss him. My brother. The pain that solitude brings makes me think of home more often. How ironic that the very place that caused me the most pain I miss. But anything is better than this. So today I visited home right before its destruction. I saw my brother. I saw Thor from afar. Oh how I wish I could have talked to him somehow and tell him i’m sorry for being such an ass.

Being there brought back memories of the silly metaphor he made using Mobius’ lunch. The corners of Loki’s mouth crept into a smile at the thought. But that smile faded away in the next second and was replaced with tears.

Day 56 - I went to Pompeii again. I stood in the shadows. I tried to picture your expressions of skepticism at my insane ideas. I tried to picture how your face lit up with pride and joy when you realized I was right. I wish I could have stayed longer but I never can anywhere I go.

He whistled like a bird before he exited through the time door.

By day 125 he had lost his will to live again. It was their fourth visit to Lamentis-1. Perhaps it was a mistake on his part to journey here once more and feel both the pains of betrayal and heartache at the prospect of never seeing Mobius again. The second time they had visited Lamentis, the god decided to stay until the very last second with the false hope that maybe him facing death would create a nexus event. His mobius would come find him and save him at the last second. But the time door never came. Maybe it was because he knew there was a chance to escape and he could take it. Or maybe it was because there were so many time branches no one would care to fix a world that was about to end.

“You were always meant to be alone.”

And so this time Loki threw the tempad to the ground and waited. He watched as the lethal disaster unfolded before his eyes once more, ready to die. Alone. Alone with no one to assure him everything will be alright in the face of death. Not a single soul would know he was gone. No one would care.

But at the last second they saw something on the tempad that made them change their mind. A glimmer of hope.

Any hope Loki had, a glorious purpose he had left to fulfill, it was in finding Mobius. It was the only desire left that fueled him to keep existing. He was all that mattered. His only friend. The only person left among the universes who trusted him and saw beyond his flaws. The only person left who hadn’t betrayed the fragile levels of trust the god could give. He was his hope that one day, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

And so he found himself walking the streets of New York in the summer of 2197, on the brink of some disaster he knew nothing about. Not a single idea when it would happen, where it would occur, and what he was doomed to witness. He saw something that could potentially lead him to his destination. The tempad had given him an alert for an aura match - two of the same people in one place. An oddity. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist.

They weren’t just any entity either. They were registered hunters in the TVA database. Which meant one had to be from another universe.

And he knew the TVA would be coming for them.

He had to get there first.

Loki speed walked down the sidewalk frantically scanning his surroundings for any clue as to what was happening. He couldn’t read any signs of fear or confusion on the faces of those who passed him. He didn’t know how much time he had.

Upon hearing shouts of anger, Loki broke out into a run across the street towards the source, dodging every dystopian vehicle that nearly collided with him in the process. It was coming from the roof of the parking tower. With a snap of his magic, Loki teleported himself to the top, hiding behind a parked vehicle to assess what he was working with.

There were two agents standing about 10 feet away who looked nearly identical, one waving her arms frantically while the other looked on stoically, possibly from shock, with a pruning stick in hand. Loki locked eyes on the tempad fastened to the belt of the frantic one. Then he glanced at the one in the other hunter’s hand.

Well shit.

Now he had to figure out which agent had jumped from the other timeline. He quickly flashed himself closer to the two, but not before one caught on that someone was there.

“I was given orders by a man to…what was that?” one of the hunters asked.

Loki crouched down farther on the other side of the wall. He reached for a dagger, ready to pounce once their suspicions subsided. They listened intently to the words from the first hunter for the first clue on who to attack.

“He sent me here to grab this,” the hunter pulled up someone on her tempad, “entity and leave. Those were the orders given to me. So if you’ll excuse me.”

The other hunter planted herself in front of her clone. “I can’t let you do that. Not until you’ve told me everything I want to know. How are you me? How is this possible?”

The first hunter was from an alternate timeline. Loki took that as his cue. But before he could sneak behind the hunter, he was shot backwards by a blast of energy from a ring of light.

Out from the ring stepped a peculiar man with graying hair who was wearing blue robes and an assymetrical cloak that sparked the curiosity of the confused hunter. Within a split second, the portal closed behind him. Loki laid very still on the concrete and held his breath in the hopes that the man would believe him to be dead.

“You know I can tell when someone is playing dead.”

Loki grimaced and winced as he heaved himself off the ground. He came face to face with the strange man, his hand lingering in the air where he placed the pocket for his dagger.

“You.” was all the man said.

“Am I supposed to know you?” the god questioned.

“You always manage to show up in New York again at the most in-opportune times.” The man raised his hands and Loki mimicked his movements, summoning his daggers in place.

“I’m gonna assume we’ve met before sir, perhaps in the future? I don’t know! And i’m terribly sorry about New York! Look let me explain…” they lowered their hands in their attempt to make peace with the angry man in front of him.

“Dr. Strange.” He kept his fist in the air, golden sparks flying from whatever spell he had in mind to attack the prince with. “And until you prove otherwise Im going to assume you are here for hostile reasons.”

Loki blinked. Well he’s kind of not wrong, they thought.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t prove anything else.” and with that the god blasted the sorcerer into the nearest column with their magic and teleported across the space.

Loki noticed that one of the hunters had disappeared. He assumed she had returned to the TVA. The other was charging towards him fast. He whipped out his daggers to face his attacker, but suddenly his feet were dragged out from under him and he hit the concrete hard. He was being dragged backwards, body scrapping against the concrete. So fast, that the god could barely think about what was happening to him.

When he came to his senses he cut the magic ropes with his powers and rolled across the ground. So he was dealing with another magic user, this “Dr. Strange.” Loki teleported again before he was up on his feet to where he was standing directly behind the hunter.

“D-11…” Dr. Strange said with a hint of caution in his tone.

So this was the man Hunter D-11 was working for. Before the hunter could turn around to face them, Loki snatched the tempad off her belt and snapped himself to the furthest side of the building. Dr. Strange reacted quickly and stood his ground in front of Loki, prepared to attack again.

“Loki, perhaps we can work out some type of deal. What is it that you want? Maybe I can help you. Maybe we can reach a compromise.”

Offer him a deal? Nah.

“I’m done trusting people I’ve just met. All they ever do is stab me in the back.” he conjured the time door behind him.

Strange titled his head. “You do realize we can follow you right straight back to the TVA?”

Loki turned to face him and D-11. “You’ll never find me. You won’t know the first place to look.” The time door closed with Loki inside of it, before the two even had a chance to reach their hands out to follow the god.

…….

And that’s how Loki had ended up here. At Roxxcart again, waiting for the new tempad to charge up before hopping through timelines again.

He breathed in deeply as he felt the bubble of excitement, relief, and happiness build in his chest for the first time in months at the prospect of achieving his goal. Being reunited with the only one who mattered: Mobius. His Mobius.

But as he released his breath in a sigh, his chest tightened again and worry clouded his mind. What if this didn’t work? What if this was just another dead end? What if this was just another one of the countless TVAs that might exist in the vast multiverse?

At first, all Loki felt was sadness and regret in the days following Sylvie’s betrayal. But now all he felt was anger boiling deep inside him. That same unwelcome feeling he experienced after discovering his father lied to him. The feeling that harbored in the abyss of Thanos’ chambers. The feeling that never left his soul until Mobius looked him in the eyes and assured him that he didn’t have to be the villain in his story.

She had taken everything from him and he was afraid he couldn’t wash away the resentment this time. He wanted desperately to feel anything besides the pain he had known for the past year.

He needed to feel love again.

“He cares about you.”

Loki couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up the tempad and tapped the time door request for the TVA home base. He drew in a shaky breath as he paused in front of the portal.

This was it.

He was either about to be reunited with his greatest source of happiness, or find himself hiding in apocalypses again for months as he searched for another plan.

And he would do it. He would search through a thousand worlds to find him.

[amydancepants-peralta]

10 and 24 for the festive prompts :)

(please excuse me while I hang my head in shame, for this was 1: received last year, and 2: still didn’t manage to appear before Christmas this year.) 🤦🏼‍♀️ Best laid plans really do be elusive, huh?  @ Anon, I'm sorry this is so late, and I hope you’re still around! ♥️ 

Prompts - 10: I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween! and 24: Secret Santa is bullshit. 

(for the sake of this story and b99′s vague timelines, this is set pre-manhunter and post-casecation).  (ao3)

all the lights are shining (so brightly everywhere) 

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la lah, la la lah lahhh …

Amy sighs, tapping her feet - sadly, trapped in a curled up shoe, and does her best to ignore the jingle that comes from its dangling bell.

Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la lah, la la lah lahhh …

Christmas Carols have always been a favourite of hers, forever singing along to the melody despite being told by many that she really shouldn’t.  They were joyful and uplifting and reminders of everything wonderful about the holiday season.  But tonight, she’s been standing post for three hours, listening to Z-List celebrity covers of sacred songs of hope; and as a result has spent 85% of her time hatching a plan to find the source of the music and put an end to everyone’s misery.

Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la, fa la la, fa la lahhh …

Jake’s off-key singing voice filters in through her earpiece, and a tiny smile finds it’s way onto her face.  

“Troll the ancient yule-tide carol, fa la la la laaaa, la la la laaa! … Wait, troll?  That can’t be right!  Hey Ames, do you think trolls celebrate Christmas?”

Knowing that answering would blow her cover, Amy remains quiet; nodding slowly both to the beat and her husband’s question as the track fades away and a new atrocity begins.  

Seriously, she needs to find out where this music is coming from.  

From underneath her undercover position as Head Elf of Candy Cane Lane, Amy shifts uncomfortably, resisting the urge to tug down the tinsel edged skirt that hovered just a little too high for her liking.  She wanted to burn the bra she had chosen to wear tonight (digging into her ribcage like it did), save for the fact that it was very expensive and very beautiful, and very much worn this evening with the sole purpose of seducing her husband.

Work had descended into pure madness in the past fortnight, with both her and Jake’s schedules descending from holding relative similarities to polar opposites.  And maybe it was the surplus of romantic movies on every single TV channel, or the scores of advertisements reminding her that the holiday season was for being together with loved ones (for Jake Peralta was most certainly Amy’s Loved One) - either way, Amy had begun to miss spending nights alone with her husband something fierce.  

Tonight’s plan had been so simple, it had barely required a binder.  Wait until it’s nearly Jake’s finish time, don sexy lingerie, cover up with comfy clothes and go pick up her unsuspecting husband from work.  Let him unlock the door when finally home, then jump his bones right there on the couch - giving Jake just enough time to discover the red lacy set and look at her the way he always manages to do - like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.  Then, sexy timez.  Lots of sexy timez.

And it had all been working so well - until she’d shown up at the precinct unannounced (Jake being too distracted to notice the text she’d sent him), and immediately found herself getting wrapped up in a sting her old squad were devising.  

In a spark of true evil, one of Brooklyn’s most elusive drug runners - Art Akemi - had invented a new way to dodge any of his drug shipments from being discovered; deciding to build candy canes around the narcotics so that to the unaware eye, they would appear completely innocuous.  

Unfortunately, one of his most recent handovers had gotten mixed up with actual candy canes, resulting in several innocent members of the public ending up in hospital with mysterious drug overdoses.  It had taken the 99 and their neighbouring precincts days to piece together Akemi’s plans, and just this afternoon Rosa had been given a lead that suggested a handoff with the kingpin and one of his henchmen would be happening at Santa’s Village that very evening.  

It was brazen, to set up an exchange of illegal narcotics in a public access area - particularly, one frequented by children and families alike - but also completely on brand for someone like Akemi.  The squad needed to work fast, and work smart; running through the finer details of their mission when Amy had arrived.    

And yes, perhaps her FOMOW had reached an all-new peak as she listened to the detectives speak, and perhaps she hadn’t really thought about what she was volunteering herself for - but the next thing Amy knew she was Holly the Christmas Elf, toes squeezed into surprisingly curly shoes as she fielded questions from children and waited for any signs of wrong-doing.   

It has been twenty-five minutes since Santa had disappeared to ‘feed the reindeer’ (aka disappearing to the back docks for a quick drag of a cigarette), and just as Amy was beginning to wonder if a search party needs to be called, she feels a gentle tug on her hand, looking down to find a little boy no older than five gazing up at her with awe.

“D’ya think Santa is busy making da presents?"

His eyes are wide - filled with the kind of awe that every child seems to get when they are lulled by the magic of Christmas - and as Amy crouches to match his diminutive height, she can’t help but notice how the unkempt curls on his head remind her of a photo with a similar aged Jake that Karen had once shown her.

(He had been mid-discovery of a fairy garden, one built by his Nana and immediately claimed as his own, and the sheer joy in his face had made Amy’s heart swell, even years later through the faded colours of an oft-cherished photograph.)

“You know, I bet he is.”  Scanning the crowd for that familiar mixture of red and white but coming up blank, she turns her attention back to the little boy.  “Santa’s magic like that, don’t you think?”

The child’s nod is so enthusiastic the tiny curls on his head begin to bounce, turning quickly as his searching father calls out his name.  “Just a little longer, and you can tell him all of your wishes, okay?”

“Da elf said Santa’d building da presents Daddy!”  The child runs back towards his father’s outstretched hand, and Amy gives the adult an understanding smile as he lifts his son back into his arms.  From his undercover position at a nearby popcorn stand; Jake catches Amy’s eye as she returns to her earlier position, giving him a tiny smile when he throws her a wink.  

The topic of parenthood - of them trying to have a baby, one day - had been mentioned by both more than a few times since their anniversary; and the regular use of the word when rather than if ignited a sense of hope in Amy that made her stomach flutter every single time.  While the enormity of it all still scared Jake - still scared Amy, if she were to be completely honest - what always seemed to remain after each conversation was the understanding that even if it scared them: together they’d figure out how to get through it.  

(Last month’s arrival of Miguel’s baby girl Adamaris, and the sight of Jake cradling her in his careful arms, had definitely not helped, playing on a loop in Amy’s mind for several days after their visit.)

“Nothing beats a bit of Santa magic, hey Santiago?”  Jake’s tone is light and playful, and only serves to remind Amy just how much she’s missed talking to him these last few weeks.  

Rolling her eyes slightly, she tucks her head downward, playing the pretence of adjusting her costume as she speaks into the hidden mic.  “Ha ha, Peralta.  Santa is magic, especially to cute kids like that one.  No way was I going to be the one to burst the Santa bubble.”

With a stuttered gasp, Jake slaps a hand against his chest, and a passing stranger gives him the side eye.  “Wait a minute.  Are you suggesting that Santa is fake?!”  

“Santa is real, Peralta.  As is this very real mission to take down Akemi.  Time to focus up.”  Terry’s firm tone breaks through the earpiece, busting into Jake and Amy’s conversation, and a sheepish grin breaks out on Jake’s face.  

“Right you are, sarge.  This is Super Serious Santa Shutdown Situation.”  Shoving several pieces of popcorn into his mouth, Jake waits a beat before continuing.  “Ames wasn’t wrong, tho.  That kid was a cutie.”

The unspoken addition of but ours will be cuter lingers between them, and Amy feels her skin warm up under Jake’s faraway gaze.  

Maybe this bra was going to come in use after all.  

Rosa’s voice cuts through the unsaid, her tone steady as she moves in closer from her position at a nearby payphone.  “Heads up - Santa’s back.  And it looks like they’ve swapped out their player.”

Immediately switching into detective mode, Jake shields his face from the new Santa’s sight as he passes, already very aware of earlier (unsuccessful) run-in’s with the kingpin.  “That really looks like Akemi.”  

“Santiago, can you get close enough to confirm?”

Handing out Christmas tree shaped cookies to the children milling around her position, Amy glances up just in time to catch the replacement Santa as he walks into the village.  With the cocky swagger of a man who rarely pays any consequences for his actions, this version of Father Christmas looked paler and far more arrogant than the man wearing the costume earlier.  

Pushing past the waiting children with barely any acknowledgment of their tiny hellos, New Santa pauses on his way to his plush red throne; snapping his gum and giving Amy a very jolly (read: creepy) once-over with his eyes.  Glancing quickly in Terry’s direction, she gives a subtle nod.  Akemi’s case file has landed on almost every detective in New York’s desk at one point or another, and she’d recognised that hard gaze anywhere.  

“Well, well, well … don’t you look good enough to sit atop my Christmas tree.”

Acutely aware of their audience, and knowing that the red and white striped stockings covering her legs would definitely be restrictive if she needed to go full ninja on Santa’s ass, Amy quickly chooses to plaster on a bright and shiny grin.  “So glad you’ve made it back from the North Pole, Santa.  We’ve got lots of excited children just bursting to see you!”

“Yeah, whatever.”  Akemi leans in, an unwelcome mixture of tobacco and sweat washing over Amy, and it’s all she can do to not recoil in disgust as he lowers his voice.  “I’m only interested in one thing, lady, and once I got it I’m outta here.  But don’t you worry, there’ll be plenty of room on my sleigh for you.”

“Ok.  I don’t give a damn about any Christmas magic, Ames.  If he tries to make you kiss him under that mistletoe, I swear to god I will punch Santa right in the face.”

“Cool it, Peralta.”  Terry’s clenching jaw is almost audible in his response, and Amy takes a slow and calming breath, safe in the knowledge that her squad most definitely has her back. 

“Right.  Yep.  Cool it.   Cool cool cooling it.”  Each member of the team watches from their position as Santa saunters over to his seat, throwing several finger guns to waiting mothers as he goes; and Jake lets out a snort of disgust.  “So … has everyone gotten their Secret Santa present organised yet?  Rosa, you need some shopping tips?”

“No.  Secret Santa is bullshit.”

“It’s a fun holiday tradition that you are definitely participating in and if you picked my name I’d really love a voucher for that sneaker store on 28th.”

“I don’t have you, Peralta.”

“Yep.  No problemo.  Just saying.  In case you do.”

To her right, Amy notices Terry’s unmissable frame break through the crowd.  “Heads up, guys.  Looks like Santa’s buddy has found his way into the queue.”  With his wooly beanie and scores of shopping bags clutched in his hands, their sergeant blended in relatively easily as just another father doing some last minute panic shopping; but they all knew one flex of his oversized muscles would break that facade fairly easily.  

A silence falls over the comms as they watch Santa breeze through child after child, giving them barely any attention as his target draws closer; and slowly both Jake and Rosa close the gap from the other sides.  

Pulling out a poorly wrapped parcel and handing the gift to Akemi, the unshaven man at the front of the queue feigns surprise when Santa reaches into the sack next to his throne, handing the supposed stranger an oversized bag of ‘candy canes’.  

“There’s the exchange.  Boyle, can you confirm you got the footage?”

“With a beautiful slow zoom that really captures the thrum of festive anticipation hovering amongst the crowd, sarge.”

Cringing slightly, Jake shakes his head at Charles’ description as his eyes follow the bag of candy canes, their new recipient now walking at a steady pace towards the exit.  “We’re going to lose this guy if we don’t move now.”  

“Go, Peralta.  Diaz, you run backup.  Amy and I will take care of Santa.”

With a grin, Jake breaks into a fast walk, already focused in his pursuit.  “Alright, taking down a bad Santa in a public environment.  Now it feels like Christmas!”

“We’re going to wait until Akemi has left the village, Peralta.  You know, try not to break a bunch of children’s hearts?”

“You do you, Terry!”  

*

*

There are still remnants of festive glitter in Amy’s hair as she and Jake walk up the stairs of their apartment building several hours later, both of them slightly weary from the hours of paperwork and debriefing that took place after Santa’s Village.  

“Boy, bet thats the last time you come to the precinct and pick me up on your night off, huh Ames?”  The apology is obvious in Jake’s tone, and Amy glances over her shoulder to give him a reassuring smile.  Even if it hadn’t been in her original plan, she still got to spend the night hanging with her husband (although in a slightly different capacity than originally planned), and she was choosing to count that as a win.  (A small win, but a win all the same.)

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I’m really sorry you got pulled into all of that, babe.  I just didn’t see your message in time, or I would have … hey, Ames?”  The touch of his hand against her forearm is gentle, pulling her in with the quiet strength she knows her husband to possess, and Amy turns towards Jake without hesitation.  His eyes search her face, immediately seeing through her concealed defeat, and he really is the only one for her.  “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.  I just …” she feels a blush rush over her cheeks again, suddenly feeling ridiculous as she thinks of how to divulge her secret plan.  The underwire from the damn bra digs into her skin again as she squirms, and if tonight has taught Amy anything, it’s why lingerie like this is only designed to stay on until your partner rips it off seconds after reveal.  

“Babe?”

“It just feels like forever since we’ve had a night at home, just the two of us.”  Jake’s brows knit, and Amy leans in to rest both hands against her husbands chest.  “And I know that work has been crazy lately, and that it’ll eventually calm down again, I just … I’d sorta planned on tonight going differently once you were home.”

“Oh god, and instead you ended up in a glittery elf costume with a creep leering at you.”  Left hand slapping against his face in shame, Jake shakes his head in obvious frustration. 

“I mean, we can mainly blame my FOMOW for that, babe.  It doesn’t matter, really.  If I hadn’t been there, you might have gotten home even later so when you think about it, it’s way better we - mmfph -” the rest of Amy’s argument stops in it’s tracks as Jake pulls her in for a kiss, the gentle but insistent press of his lips against hers casting any other thoughts far to the side. 

The familiar touch of his hands as they roam against the outline of her butt causes Amy to melt entirely in Jake’s arms, resting her arms against his steady shoulders as her fingers slide into his hair.  This - these tiny moments where the world seemed to fade away and all she could feel was Jake - was what she’d been craving for weeks.  

Jake sighs against her lips, letting her tongue slip into his mouth as he shuffles ever so closer to her, and maybe he’d been missing this just as much as she.  

“So,” Jake whispers as he pulls away from the kiss, leaning in to brush his lips against Amy’s once more.  “Time to get this night back in track.”  Another kiss.  “What kind of plans did you make for us, Santiago?”

“Lets just say … the lingerie I’ve got on under here is going to blow your mind, Peralta.”

“Going to blow your mind, title of our sex tape.”

Amy nods, biting her lower lip as she steps out of Jake’s embrace, gesturing towards their apartment.  “But it’s also really uncomfortable.  C’mon, let's get inside before it ends up in the dumpster.”

Jake’s footsteps echo behind Amy’s, hands landing on her hips as she digs for the keys.  “I’m declaring it now, Ames.  Tomorrow night we’re both leaving early and staying in for movie night at home.  Phones off, popcorn, everything for the full movie experience.  We can watch Die Hard and Love Actually and Nightmare before Christmas …”

Amy’s nose crinkles at the last movie, unlocking their front door and tugging her husband through as it swings open.  “Didn’t we watch that last one for Halloween?”

“I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween!”

“Jake …”  

“Christmas is literally in the title, babe!”

Pulling him closer, Amy takes a leaf out of her husband’s handbook, silencing him with a definitely not PG rated kiss now that the risk of being discovered by a neighbour had slimmed to none.  

Jake’s arms wrap around her middle in response, holding Amy close as her fingers begin to trace the edge of his buttons, and she lets out a sigh of satisfaction that finally her initial plan was coming to fruition.  

Next time, though, she might add a sub-section into the binder about potential diversions, and how to avoid them (not join them) - FOMOW be damned.  This stuff was way more fun.

[escxpedes]

loopholes (cont.)

I literally can’t even begin to tell you how much everyone’s support meant to me on the last chapter. All your comments and tags were so sweet, it was seriously the highlight of my day. I’m sorry for the delay, I meant to get this out a couple of days ago, but I’ve come down with a bad cold. This part, while fun, was so hard to get right. Angus Macgyver is a genius, his mind goes a mile a minute, and I wanted to do my best to replicate that. This part is a little slow in getting to the Macriley stuff, but I wanted to show how much he really thinks about things. He’s such a complex character, that if I didn’t do him justice, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Also, there’s dialogue in this one! Sadly, Jack isn’t mentioned in this chapter, but he’s there in spirit. Clearly, we all love and miss him. I hope you guys enjoy, the last part will be out soon! x

~

loop·hole

noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system

~

Riley finally moves into her new apartment, but struggles to adjust after the events of Codex and the realization of her feelings for Mac. When Mac finds her passed out over her keyboard after a late night of coding at Phoenix, he decides a talk is long overdue. Just some slightly angsty soft!macriley to help you cope with this season 5 hiatus.

~

of lips that i am yet to kiss (and eyes not met my own.)

It's highly unlikely that you'll find Mac walking down the halls of the Phoenix Foundation so late at night. Without the bustling energy of his coworkers fetching important documents or discussing the best way to break down one of the many mysteries the foundation deals with, the darkened hallways and quiet atmosphere can be unnerving.

Sure, he spends nearly every waking hour employed there, but he'd rather be outside the office in different countries, doing hands-on work and saving lives. When you work in his profession, It can be difficult to separate business and pleasure, but that only makes it more important—if only to conserve what mental health he has left. 

However, in the haste of putting together last-minute preparations for yet another meeting with the Department of Justice and trying to make it back to his house in time for something Desi whipped up, he managed to forget his cellphone.

It's funny, mainly because of how little the small device truly matters to Mac.

It only goes to show how insignificant material objects, or even human beings in general, are. The idea that something so meaningless can affect someone's life so much when, if they just looked past that obsession and considered its part in the profound scope of the universe, another perspective would take shape.

It's fascinating stuff, really.

There's a concept essential to understanding Japanese aesthetics, otherwise known as an ancient set of ideals important to Japanese society, called Yūgen. When applied in the right context, Yūgen underlines this deep awareness of the universe and the experiences we have within it. It's often the feeling interpreted when you gaze at the stars late at night or watch the sunset dip behind a hill.

Mac wouldn't think twice before breaking his phone, or rather, breaking the phone of his nearest friend, open for an obscure part that might make one of his many homemade devices come together. However, when he's the only person able to communicate the scientific specifications of an unheard-of-until-recently base plan for saving the planet, he's practically on call 24/7.

He remembers having it in the labs earlier that day when he stopped by before his meeting to remind Bozer to come by his house on Friday for the team's new weekly attempt in group-bonding.

After the betrayals that surfaced during the climax of taking down Codex, the team collectively decided to spend more time as a group in hopes of eliminating any lingering doubts. 

They used to hang out all the time before the government dismantled the Phoenix Foundation.

Mac still can't believe that, after everything they had been through, he allowed his friendships to dissipate over the year they had been separate.

Bozer is his childhood best friend, and Riley had become a solid foundation in his life. He didn't have anyone outside his team at Phoenix, and while he deeply cared for Desi, their first relationship was proof that too much time—and too little communication—with each other can do severe damage to one's sanity.

If Russ hadn't brought them back together, would they have tried to reconnect at some point?

Mac wants to say they would have but wouldn't blame them if they didn't; they all lost something they cared about, and each served as a constant reminder of it.

It would've been hard, but part of him feels like living without them is a lot harder.

When he manages to access the lab, flipping his shiny new I.D. card over his fingers and into its place in his wallet, his eyes scan the room. It's empty, which isn't unusual at this time, but years of military training have rewired his brain to notify him of threats, even if there aren't any.

Just like he thought it would be, the device sits untouched a few tables behind Bozer's workspace where Mac had been sitting.

Quickly, because he left the house in a hurry and forgot to leave a note, he scoops up his phone and makes his way towards the exit. There's a couple of missed calls, but it doesn't seem like he missed anything too important.

Not that they would let him. 

At any rate, they would probably show up on his doorstep if they couldn't get a hold of him. With days off so few and far between, that's the kind of interaction he's hoping to avoid. Hence, why he came to pick up his phone when he realized it was missing instead of waiting until the next day.

He's nearly made it to the end of the hall when a light flashes in his peripheral vision, coming from the I.T. department.

His body is tense with apprehension; his mind races with several different kinds of possibilities and outcomes. He slows his pace, his movements fluid, silent, and controlled from years of stealth practice.

The light is soft, he notices, as if only one or two monitors are in use.

When he gets to the doorway and nudges open the door, hands at the ready, his entire body sags in relief to see the dark wavy hair he's come to associate with one of his closest friends.

"Riles?"

The nickname falls from his mouth before he can stop it, and even though the light from the monitor creates a halo above her head, shadowing her features, it's unmistakably her.

She doesn't move. 

It becomes abundantly clear why as Mac moves towards her and notices the monitor's screen filling up with a sequence of letters that look nothing like coding despite his lack of knowledge in programming languages.

Her elbow balances precariously on the edge of the table, her arms creating a makeshift pillow for her head. The weight of her forearm bears down on the keyboard, causing the side of her hand to press down multiple keys at once.

He shakes his head a little, amused by the situation unfolding. 

Her cheek rests comfortably on her hand, a serene expression masking the signs of exhaustion that showed on her face.

Mac's lips curved into a soft smile, seeing Riley in any state that wasn't cloaked in layers of worry or anxious determination always washed away any doubts he might have about working in such a stressful field.

The scars that covered his body, the secrets he has to keep, and the pain he has to endure are so unbelievably worth it as long as she out of harm's way and able to sleep peacefully.

Of course, he couldn't imagine anyone else by his side on a mission, knowing they share the same love and passion for kicking ass and saving lives.

However, he also knows that more lies underneath the surface.

He wouldn't wish the hardships of this job on anyone. Seeing it affect someone he cares about, watching it break them down slowly pulls at his heartstrings and fills him with a knowing sadness. 

When a piece of hair falls into her face, his fingers don't hesitate to gently brush it behind her ear, lightly tracing her cheekbone and caressing her cheek.

Kneeling, his hand drops to her shoulder in an attempt to gently wake her.

After a couple of shakes, the expressive brown eyes he's come to look forward to seeing begin to flutter open and nearly render him speechless.

She blinks a couple of times, inhaling slowly, "Macgyver."

Her voice is full of sleep and breaks from misuse, but the way she says his name—like there's nobody else she'd expect to see when she wakes up —has him grinning from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Rising from her position on the table, she scans the room before meeting his eyes and scoffing, "It's hardly the morning."

He laughs softly, holding back the urge to mention that technically it is morning considering its past twelve. Instead, he focuses on the matter at hand, or more likely, the question at hand.

"What are you doing here so late?"

She's more alert now, sitting back in her chair and lifting her arms to stretch out the muscles that stiffened while she slept, glancing at her work on the monitor.

Her face drops into a grimace when she notices her mistake, "Matty and I were talking about updating the foundation's firewall and spyware," she yawns, "I must have been more tired than I realized."

Mac's eyebrows scrunch in thought, remembering something Bozer said earlier about Riley spending quite a few nights this week working late.

Between going over his mother's scientific data, trying to patch up whatever relationship he had left with Desi, and making sure he didn't go off the rails with grief, his effort to check in on everyone decreased significantly.

"Yeah, you've been doing that a lot lately," his hand returned to her shoulder to emphasize his point, "Everything okay?"

She waves him off, "There's too much work that needs to be done around here before we can get things running the way they used to."

Riley doesn't lie to him—if you overlook the whole situation with her ex, Aubrey, that is, but the movements she's making indicate otherwise.

Her eyes refuse to meet his, flickering down and to the right. When she talks, her head shakes lightly, and she purses her lips in an attempt to give off a careless impression. Maybe someone who doesn't know her or didn't train to pick up on it would believe her, but he knew better.

She was definitely hiding something from him.

Part of him understands that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. However, his instincts urge him to press harder, locate the problem, and bring back her contagious smile that always seems to fill him with warmth.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, you can't patch some things together by sheer will and sellotape, so instead, he stands up and drops his hand from her shoulder.

"Let's get you home."

[whiskynottea]

An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27,  Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35,  Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44,  Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51 Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54

AO3

Beta-d, as always, by @theministerskat! Thank you, love!

And thank you all for sticking with me and for the love you’ve shown to these two kids!! ❤️

                                     -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Chapter 55. Paris

I always loved traveling. Every time Lamb announced we were moving to another country, he made it seem like an adventure. And all I could see was another world waiting for us to explore -- new tastes, new smells, new people. And always an archaeological site with new findings to visit. That was living with Lamb. My trip to Zambia was the same. An adventure, yes, but always with an underlying purpose behind it. I had never traveled for the sake of it, for fun. Never, until Jamie took me to Paris.

Jenny knew. Of course she did. And she hadn't said a word, looking at me with disappointment instead, when I told her Jamie wanted to stay at home once he returned. Lamb had known as well, and he funded the trip together with Brian. A gift, they had said, because we both deserved it.

Jamie began teasing me about my plans for a road trip through Scotland the moment he freed his lips from mine. “Maybe you’d rather cancel Paris, Sassenach?” he asked with a mischievous grin. “Go to this road trip to the North Coast instead?”

“It was a great idea, you know.” I narrowed my eyes, daring him to utter one more word. “But Paris is…”

“Paris,” he finished for me, and pulled me into his arms again.

I claimed the seat by the window when we boarded, ignored how the armrest between us squeezed into me just below my waist and leaned into him. Jamie rested his head on top of mine and we watched Edinburgh get smaller and smaller, until puffy cotton clouds danced around us. He slept soon after, his excitement finally superseded by fatigue and jet-lag.

I found it impossible to settle down. Paris. We were going to Paris and my boyfriend was the best conniving liar I could ever ask for. I snuggled closer to him and let his warmth pulse through my body. Just having him beside me, feeling my unruly curls dance with each of his breaths, was enough. He tightened his arms around me in his sleep, and as we soared away from Scotland, I knew I was home.

--

The first thing we learned about Paris was what a maze the Métro de Paris was. Lines -- blue, yellow, red, purple -- crisscrossed the map on the wall opposite the ticket office, challenging us to find which of the 16 lines would take us to the station closest to our hotel.

Jamie was murmuring names of metro stops, showing off his nearly perfect French accent, while I scanned the region around our hotel on my phone, throwing names at him while he tried to find them on the map. We were getting nowhere, when a man came up to us, free maps in his hands, speaking English with a beautiful French accent. He introduced himself and asked if we needed any help. I could have kissed him.

“Yes!” My immediate reply came together with Jamie’s decline of the offer. “What?” I looked at him over my shoulder. “We’ve been staring at this map for five minutes!”

“I need one more minute…” he murmured, his eyes still scanning the innumerable stops on the map. I tried hard not to roll my eyes -- and failed.

One more minute my arse.

I showed Adrian the location of our hotel on Google Maps and five minutes later we jumped on train, panting from running down the stairs, Jamie still not talking at me. There were no empty seats, so we squeezed behind two huge blonde men with backpacks, while trying to move our luggage out of the way.

“Jamie,” I tilted my head towards him after we pulled away from the second stop, hoping that his indignation had subsided. I kept my eyes on him, waiting for a reply, wanting him to look at me. It didn’t work. He kept looking out the window, as if whole landscapes were unfurled in front of him. I would not allow him any time for egotistical male pride while we were in Paris of all places, and seeing that he left me no other options, I pinched his side.  

“Sassenach,” he hissed, but he finally looked at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, although I knew very well what he was brooding about.

“Nothing.”

“Jamie…” My tone wasn’t sweet this time. His name had become a warning. If his behavior lasted five more minutes, I would be the one not talking to him.

“I would have found it, ye ken. Wasna that difficult.”

“I know you would have!” He pursed his lips but didn’t respond. “It was hot in there, and crowded, and I just wanted to get done with it and go to the hotel! And Adrian offered.”

“Of course he did.”

“It’s his job, you know. You saw the vest he was wearing, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Asking people for help isn’t bad.”

“Mmhmm.” But the frown had left his brow, and his lips twitched at the side, as they always did when he refused to admit he was wrong.

“You’re insufferable,” I said at last, and leaned over my suitcase to kiss his cheek.

He smiled at me, his slanted eyes somewhat remorseful. “Come here?” he asked, kicking the luggage from between us so I could walk right to him.

--

The lady at the reception was polite, her eyes bored behind her rimless glasses. She certainly didn’t share our twin smiles or our excitement about being in Paris. She gave us two card keys, gestured at the tiny elevator while instructing us not to go up together because we had our luggage, and wished us a nice stay. Jamie went first and waited for me right outside the elevator door. We walked down the long corridor together and found our room at the end of it. It was simple, white with a royal blue carpet and paintings on the walls. I didn’t have time to comment on it or inspect it better, because the moment the door closed behind us, Jamie was all over me. One hand in my curls, tilting my head up to have better access to my mouth, the other roaming over my body, grabbing and teasing.

At last, I smiled against his mouth. “I need a shower,” I said, feeling the sweat coating my body. I made to sniff at him, ready to claim that he needed one too, but his perfume hit me, together with his musky scent accentuated from our travel and all thought left my mind, apart from one. I hadn’t smelled him for so long, it felt painful and comforting at the same time.

Jamie didn’t reply. He nibbled my neck and kept kissing me, slowly walking us to the bathroom while clothes were shed on the floor.

We remained under the water torrent a considerably longer time than a person needs to shower. Not that either of us expected anything different the moment we crammed into the small space together, laughing.

The water wasn’t as hot as I liked, but it was a compromise we both made after the first time we showered together. The temperature of the water though, was a trifling detail. What mattered was that Jamie’s hands slid over my body, his teeth locked onto the sensitive skin of my neck, his groans reverberating in the small room.

And my moans, if I wanted to be fair.

It was a dance, the way our bodies responded to each other. Jammed between the glass doors of the small shower with almost no space to move, my back on the wall, my legs locked on his waist, Jamie’s body was the only reason I stayed upright while his mouth made me melt. And when I felt him inside me, panting in my ear how much he missed me and that he loved me, a sensation took over me, freeing and tethering; I was connected to him with a solid, unfaltering thread, but I was still myself, and that was the most powerful feeling I had ever felt. I was his, but I was mine as well. Because Jamie knew all that I was and loved me for it. No matter how much time had passed since we felt each other last. He casted no molds to make me fit in, to make me change into something else. And for that reason I had trusted myself to him, knowing he’d keep me safe and cherish me like a gift. Even if I wasn’t perfect. We had chosen each other and that made us strong. It made us different.

We lay in bed for a long time after our shower, feeling each other, comparing the skin underneath our fingers with the one held by our memories. Refining the details we had forgotten.

The curve where his deltoid met his biceps was smoother than I remembered. His chest felt wider, his hip bones more prominent. I didn’t know if my memory had betrayed me or he had changed these past few months. The changes were small, almost imperceptible.

But the trail of auburn hair beneath his navel is the same, I thought with a smile.

When I glanced up to look at Jamie, he was studying my hair.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored looking at the colours of yer hair, Sassenach. They are light and dark, soft and strong. Like you.”

I laughed and shook my head, the curls slipping out of his fingers. “They are just brown, you know.”

He huffed. “Ye say the same for yer eyes.”

“Because they are brown, too,” I laughed, raising both eyebrows.

“No they’re not. They’re like whisky.”

“Amber?” I frowned, doubting him.

“Yes. Amber and whisky and gold,” he added, and before I had time to reply that I was not a wolf, he moved on top of me. A wicked grin was all I could see before he made his intentions clear and dove for my mouth.

It was two hours later, when I felt guilty enough to drag Jamie out of bed. “Come on, we didn’t come here to stay in a hotel room! We have to see Paris!”

“I have to see you,” he said in response with a lopsided smile, bringing a hand around my waist, his fingers trailing patterns on my ribs.

I tried to ignore how my heart thrummed in my chest.

How can he still do that?

“I’m here! You saw me,” I retorted and laughed. “And I will be right next to you, Jamie Fraser, even when we leave this room. Now get your arse off the bed and get dressed!”

When we finally left the room it was almost night. But it didn’t matter. The Parisian lights were everything I had imagined and more.

--

Our week in Paris held some of the most beautiful moments of my life. I had Jamie by my side, and the City of Lights to explore.

The first morning, during breakfast, after realizing that Jamie’s plans ended with our arrival and accommodations in Paris, I made up and wrote out our itinerary. Based on the map I got from the hotel reception and the “must-visit” posts I found online, I split the city in quarters and organized our trip based on which places we’d visit each day. Jamie kept silent while I babbled about our schedule, and ate his sandwich looking at the Parisians passing by our cafe. His eyes became wide when I finished my search and showed him the list of places we absolutely had to visit. Then he looked at my foolish grin, chuckled, licked the mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth and gave me a kiss that tasted of butter and cheese.

We walked along the Seine every day. We crossed the river through Pont des Arts to visit the Eiffel Tower and the Luxembourg Gardens, which felt strangely familiar after having read Les Misérables, and we waited for an eternity in the line to enter Notre Dame. We stopped to listen to local street bands, their music painting the city with colour, and kept the rhythm in our hearts for hours later.

No matter what the itinerary was for the day, the list always included eating fruit tarts, quiches, and baguettes with the most decadently delicious cheeses. It felt like paradise.

“Coach is going to kill me if I go back ten pounds heavier,” Jamie murmured, his mouth still full with the pain au chocolat he bought from the boulangerie we’d stopped at for a break.

“At least I’m eating healthy.” My blueberry tart had, at least, some fruit in it.

“Keep telling yerself that, babe. Ye’re lucky I like your arse plump.”

“My arse isn’t plump!”

“Oh, aye, ‘tis. I studied it verra well last night, aye? I should know.”

I pursed my lips, shooting at him my most intimidating glance.

“I’m in trouble now?” he asked a moment later, licking chocolate from his fingers.

“You certainly are, Jamie Fraser,” I answered, grabbed the chocolate pastry from his hand and bolted across the park from where we were sitting. I had eaten his pastry before he caught up with me, but didn’t manage to defend my tart before he took a huge bite in retribution.

After that, it was easy to convince him to join a free walking tour, following Marie as she showed us known and hidden gems in the city, and we listened to the stories behind statues and buildings, stories of the people who left their names woven into the history of this city.

Paris was magical. But I knew that feeling of complete happiness wasn’t only because of the city. It was because Jamie was so close to me again. I could reach out and touch his smile, I could rise on my tiptoes and taste it. He was here. We were together. For all the beats our hearts had missed these past months, they were still beating to the same rhythm. Six months apart and nothing had changed.

As we walked through Les Marais, staring at the art displayed in the various galleries, Jamie turned to look at me and the happiness in his eyes rendered me speechless. All my fears and insecurities melted, fading away. The light in his eyes, that loving gaze, was a promise of future days and belonging.

I had felt the future looming over us when we were apart. I had feared it, even. Feared the unknown that it brought with it. But looking at Jamie, feeling his strong arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into him, I knew.

Yes, I would go to Oxford and we'd be apart again. But I would wait for him. I would wait as long as I needed to, until the time would come and I'd wake up next to him every morning, nuzzle his neck and then try to convince him to get out of bed and make some coffee. I wanted to tell him that, tell him that we'd make it, that I believed in us. But I kept myself in check, as if saying the words aloud would break some kind of spell. I felt guilty and foolish for thinking that way, as I felt guilty for doubting that we would make it, but I still didn’t voice it, not wanting to dare fate to play with us.

Not that I believed in fate. I believed in our love and trust. But saying those things out loud would start a conversation about doubts and uncertainty, even though I would only claim the opposite. So I didn’t talk.

I didn’t talk about Oxford, or Michigan, about swimming, school, or the distance between us. I wanted to live each day with him now that he was close, savouring the sun’s warmth on our faces, the Paris around us and the feeling of holding each other’s hand, safe and solid on our side. So I rose on my tiptoes instead, brought his face down to mine, and kissed all my conviction into him. It was enough.

--

It was our last day and we were sitting on a bench by the Seine, looking out at the sun glittering on the water’s surface like stars that couldn’t withstand the summer’s heat and went in for a dive, when Jamie gave a long sigh.

“I think I know what I want to do with my life,” he said, eyes fixed on the water.

“Mmm?” I opened my mouth to tease him about being the best swimmer in the world, but clamped it shut again. Last year had been hard on Jamie, between his own dreams and his father’s, between swimming and the family business at Lallybroch. Michigan was ideal because it combined both prospects for Jamie’s future without forcing him to choose. Not yet.

It was a while before he spoke again. “Do you think that Ian and Jenny will be happy at Lallybroch?” he asked, his hand fidgeting with my fingers on his thigh. “If they kept the business, I mean.”

The business that his father wanted for him. I took a moment before I replied. “Yes, I think so. They are so excited about Lallider. Considering that Ian will go to business school, he will be able to run it. And Jenny…” Jenny would go to College of Arts, but that had nothing to do with Jamie’s question. It was my turn to sigh. “Lallybroch is a part of her as much as Ian is, I think. I hadn’t realized that, before staying with them after I came back from Zambia. Jenny belongs there. And even if they keep the business, she will always be able to paint.” I didn’t ask him what he was thinking, or why he would ask such questions.

Jamie didn’t look at me, his fingers now tracing circles on my open palm. “And my Da? How was he, with Lallider, with Jenny and Ian’s work?”

“Happy,” I said, and smiled. “And proud.”

Jamie’s face brightened up at that. “Maybe I can still convince him to change his plans, then. Jenny and Ian couldn’t stop talking about Lallider and their part in the whisky making every time they called.”

“Jamie?” I didn’t continue, willing him to look at me. When he did, his mouth was tight, but his eyes held hope. “What do you want to do with your life?”

A wistful smile. “I want…” He huffed a chuckle. “It might sound stupid.”

“Go on.”

“I can’t be a professional swimmer forever, ye ken. And our family business is great, and I want the best for it but it doesn’t… speak to my heart.”

“I know,” I said in a low voice, wanting to encourage him.

“So, I was thinking of teaching swimming to children with disabilities. Maybe having my own pool, at some point. I would like to help people and give them an escape, make them feel how wonderful it is to be in the water. There is no place for aquatic therapy in the Highlands, I think. Not close to Lallybroch, at least.”

My heart swelled and I smiled as I interlaced his fingers with mine. “I think that is wonderful, Jamie.”

“You do? It doesna seem like a silly dream to ye?”

I shook my head. “Silly dreams are all we have to guide us in this life. Dreams that seem impossible. But they’re not, Jamie. And I promise you that we will be together when you give your first swimming lesson. I will be there, just to remind you of what you have accomplished.”

He kissed me. It wasn’t passionate, or consuming. It was slow, reverent.

“I love you,” he said, his sapphire eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“I love you, too.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon making plans, trying to estimate how many years Jamie would give swimming classes in the same pool he’d trained as a kid while working at Lallybroch before he had enough money set aside to get a loan and start his own business. How I could apply for a position in a hospital in Inverness, or start my own private medical practice close to Lallybroch. We talked until the sun set and the lights of the city danced on the water like fireflies, keeping the smiles on our faces as we built the machination that would make our silly dreams come true.

Chapter 56

[porthavenhq]

Welcome to Porthaven, Kae! We can’t wait to meet Jack Frost!

Please look over the acceptance checklist and submit your blog within the next 24 hours. If there is a problem or a prior obligation and you need more time than provided, just message the main and we will gladly extend!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　OUT OF CHARACTER　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Name: Kae Pronouns: she/her Age: 26 Timezone: EST Activity Level: Maybe a five? I have time but I’m lazy. Triggers: self harm, suicide, child death, eating disorders Anything Else: Nothing else, I just love and appreciate you!! Feel free to leave this in, actually, xoxoxo.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　CHARACTER INFORMATION　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Name: Jack Frost Age: 353 (appears 24); 21 December 1667. Gender: Genderfluid (he/him) FC: Cara Delevigne

Character Biography

ice crawls up his skin like a shiver, a chill that simply refuses to go away. cold, water, frozen, can’t breathe, and then? then he is jack frost. then he is jack frost, and the memory washes away from him like a breath of warm air against his skin. the cold doesn’t bother him any more- in fact, he’s not sure that it ever did. how could something so wonderful, something so familiar, something so calming, feel bad? how could it ever have chilled him to the bone?

jack frost doesn’t know where he came from, and he’s afraid that he never will. the past is a murky river, the present an indiscernible blur, the future a vague and fuzzy concept. and a part of him is sure that is simply the way it is when you’ve lived for over three hundred years. but there is a part of him that will always hold on tight to the truth: that he remembers his rebirth, he remembers becoming jack frost. and he remembers the overwhelming knowledge that jack frost was not the first thing he ever was, and even now that information lurks just beneath the surface. who was he? and why can’t he remember?

three hundred years pass by much like one would expect. at first they drag by him, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. they drag by like a lazy afternoon, like a party that lasts the whole night through, like the best year of your life. the best century of your life, in jack’s case. he learns about his abilities, wraps them around himself like a warm cloak, learns to love his invisibility for the anonymity and freedom that it gives him. learns to love his powers for the potential situations that he can get himself caught up in. and he does, get himself caught up in things. anything and everything, trouble or otherwise, and always, always, gets away with it.

but fun and games can’t ever seem to last nearly as long as one might wish for them to.

the years started to fly by, and maybe that should have felt like a blessing. but how can the years feel like anything but a curse when one is made to spend them alone? he continued to wander from place to place, watching the world change around him as a sense of desperation became to cling to his body like a bad smell that just won’t wash out. the industrial revolution, enchanting. world wars, interesting. the rise of technology, exciting. but not a single moment of these events raised any sort of emotion in jack, no matter how hard he tried to feel something, anything. he felt himself start to disappear, and reveled in the feeling. it was the first thing that he’d truly felt in years, and that was somehow both incredible and horribly depressing. just like most of the rest of his life- if one could call his haphazard, tremulous existence that. a life.

the trembling lack of reliability regarding his powers of invisibility might very well have been his saving grace. he finds his way to porthaven because it is somewhere to go. he finds his way to porthaven because he has nowhere else to go. he finds his way to porthaven because he is looking for answers. and he finds his way to porthaven because that is where he might be able to find them. call it a dream. call it a hunch. call it a wish. jack frost has called his path them all, but levity will not make him turn his back on this new route to knowledge, to happiness, to something different.

maybe he can finally learn the truth.

Headcanons

jack frost is a very lonely boy, even now. he doesn’t really know how to talk to people anymore, and that gives him a degree of anxiety that he has never experienced before. it’s new, different, and not at all something that he is familiar with- both talking to people and feeling some sort of anxiety. due to this, he makes a lot of bad jokes and leaves a lot of long silences. it’s not cute, not funny, but it’ll be a long time before he’s worked out exactly what he’s doing wrong. humor is one hundred percent a coping mechanism, and maybe not the best one when it comes to his current situation.

he doesn’t know if he is capable of love. and that is only kind of in a deep, emotional kind of love. it’s just that in his memory, the parts of himself that jack has access to, he’s never felt any sort of love for anyone. not even a friendship type of love, because he’s never had anyone in his life that he could consider a friend. it does make him sad sometimes. it does help to convince him that he’ll be alone forever, invisible or not. but it’s also invigorating. there’s nowhere to go but up, right? at least that’s what he keeps telling himself as soon as any sort of sadness comes creeping in.

jack has done a lot of crazy things while invisible. stupid crazy kind of things. things that never should have been attempted by anyone, much less a boy lost and alone in the world with no one who could even see him, much less anyone who could help if he got into trouble. but he never got into trouble, never got hurt, never hurt anyone else. and maybe that’s why he kept right on going through it all. a part of jack truly thinks that he is invincible, and maybe that part of him is right. after all, who else could say that they’ve jumped from the highest building they can find and landed safely upon their feet? that can’t be luck.

Inspiration

pinterest board mock blog

[motherofadamsfamily]

Nepal 2020 Kathmandu

Day 1 Kathmandu 07-08 Mar

Stupas, thought-provoking religion, monkeys, relics, delicious food and beautiful faces...what a day! 

The first three words that come to mind are mayhem, mayhem and mayhem.....

Three words came to mind when I first saw Kathmandu – mayhem, mayhem and mayhem!!

The traffic is chaotic, the roadworks are never-ending in streets that are too narrow to take two cars passing at times, and hordes of people meander through this craziness with never a thought for their livelihood – I love it!

It took us nearly 24 hours of travelling to get here, leaving home at 5 am, and a 4 hour transit in Singapore. By the time we were collected by our guide Mark (Markenday) and the driver Dip (Dipendra), we were stuffed. I was put in my place gently by Mark when I tried to greet him with a handshake. He advised that not only do Buddhists prefer the respectful greeting of ‘Namaste’ with hands held prayer-like in front of you, but that given the concerns with this current Covid-19 global health scare, it was also the safer option. Oops – should have thought of that!

We didn’t take too much notice of our hotel arrival, other than our room was cold and tiny. BUT – the water was steaming hot for my much-wanted shower, and the bed was comfortable for when I passed out.

The morning brought an adjustment of thought. The air-conditioner had warmed the room wonderfully, and the room is cozy in its’ simplicity. See what a good nights’ sleep can do?

Mark collected us for a full day of sightseeing – Kathmandu houses 4 UNESCO World Heritage sites. Our first stop was the Swoyambhunath stupa, which is located at the top of a hilltop, overlooking the Kathmandu valley.

 The crowd was immense, with the local vendors blending with those that came to pay their respects, and people just living their everyday lives. The view was a little sad – the population of Nepal is 30 million, and Kathmandu is apparently 22nd in the world for air pollution. A thick haze hung over the city, marring the view somewhat. But the mountains beyond the valley are quite beautiful.

Mark began explaining the intricacies of the Buddhist faith. He is very knowledgeable – I’m a little overwhelmed by the massive load of information he provided. Here are some facts I can remember –

·         There 3 types of religious centres – 1. Pagodas, the most popular, followed by 2. Shikaras, which look a little phallic in their shape, and 3. Stupas, large, bell-shaped constructions

·         “The Face” – otherwise known as “Buddha Eyes”, is a common sight throughout Nepal, and has spiritual connotation – The Third Eye (dot on the forehead) indicates the Buddhist wish and aim for enlightenment and wisdom

- The Compassionate Eyes, suggesting one should look upon all with compassion and empathy

- The nose (looks like a number ‘1’) points to the ground, advising you should remain grounded and true, while striving for this enlightenment

- There are no ears (meaning to not to listen to evil/negative comments from others), nor a mouth (do not speak negative/evil words)

·         There are 5 depictions of Buddha, placed facing the 4 point of the compass, plus a 5th – the “White Buddha” which is generally invisible, as it faces skywards, and represents discussion and devotion

- Blue- faces East, with the left hand on knee, and right hand pointing to the ground – “stay grounded within your belief”

- Yellow – faces South, hand down, palm out – “show charity to others”

- Green – faces West, palm up in greeting – “give blessings to all”

Red – faces North – palms in lap, meditative – “maintain meditation to to remain centred”

The snakes over Buddha’s head, contrary to popular belief, symbolize protection, not danger

Our second stop was Patan Durbar Square, site of the ancient royal palace where the Mallar Kings of the Lalitpur region lived. It is a centre of both Hindu (81% of population) and Buddhist (9%)  temples – the main two faiths of Nepal. Of the three main Pagodas, two were destroyed in the earthquake of 2015, and have since been rebuilt.

We wandered through the throng, admiring the dexterity and attention to detail in the architecture, some of which date back thousands of years.

During our travel, we came across a family of women and girls, all dressed in fabulous finery. They were embarking on a sort of ‘coming out’ ceremony for the little ones – sort of like our debutantes. They were absolutely adorable, and only too happy to pose for ‘happy snaps’ with us.

The traffic to the Boudhnath Stupa was absolute bedlam, and we remained at a standstill for ages – apparently that’s just the norm at this time of day, according to Mark.

We finally arrived at the Stupa – the second largest in the world (the largest being Borobudur Temple in Jogjakarta). The unusual thing though, is that there isn’t an entrance. So, you have this massive structure, but no access inside to worship! Odd to me, but the Buddhist masses were happy to stroll clockwise, spinning the multitude of prayer wheels and chanting mantras as they walked

We had lunch at a rooftop restaurant, which afforded us a great view of the distant snow-capped mountain range, as well as the enormous Stupa before us. Mark said we were lucky, as they are usually shrouded in clouds. Lunch was delish – we shared Momos (the Nepali version of dumplings) and a ‘Dhal Bhat’, or mixed platter of Nepali delicacies. Yes, we’ve finally absorbed the fact we are in Nepal!

After lunch, we visited an art centre, watching the artists as the painted mandalas – intrinsic in the Buddhist practice of meditation. The various levels of the mandala were explained to us – absolutely fascinating. Apparently only the ‘Masters’ can draw the mandalas, and the students can only paint them, until they become more experienced in the ways of Buddhism. One mandala had figures so intricate and tiny – we discovered that the ‘Master’ who painted this one used a single-hair paint brush! It can take them up to three months to complete a Mandala, depending on the complexity of the figures.

We also learned during our stroll that agriculture is the main form of employment here, and the most popular crops are – rice, wheat, corn, millet, vegetables and mustard. The greatest exports are ginger, tea and coffee.

Our last stop for the day was a Hindu cremation ghat (river-landing stairs) at the Pashupatinath Temple, on the banks of the sacred Bagmati River. Hindus apparently come here to reside for the last few weeks of their life, and are cremated upon passing, on the riverbank. Their remains are then washed in to the river, which flows to meet the sacred river Ganges. It’s believed that if you die here, you will be reborn as a human, regardless of the karma you left behind.

It’s quite calming, to see the faith of these people, as they lovingly prepare their family member for ‘the final journey’. To them, death is simply the natural progression of life. As Buddha said, “life is just the space between birth and death” – it helps move the fear of, and stigma surrounding talking about, death.

We were exhausted by the end of this strenuous day of sightseeing. We didn’t realise exactly HOW much we had walked during our touring, but once we stopped – oh, my!! We stayed in the hotel for a light dinner, as we couldn’t be bothered walking any further. We hit the sack pretty early, as we’re up before dawn tomorrow, for our flight over Everest. Get keen, people!

[clexaisheretostay]

Frozen Flowers

Post season 4 reveal with Lena and Kara finding themselves far apart. Lena left long ago but Kara didn't even know and the day she found out was the day she really started hurting. She should have realized, should have known that there was no way that she couldn't just randomly bump into Lena even in a city as big as National City for a year if she was still living here. Kara just wished she had been given a chance to explain everything, she should have explained everything before it came to this.

Regret pooled in Kara and an aching pain bloomed in her chest and she knew for sure that she wouldn’t live to see forgiveness. There was no way she was going to seek Lena out without her express permission to do so. She should have just told Lena long before this happened. Her soul cracked and scarred, Kara knew she loved Lena even if Lena hated her now.

The rest of this story is actually already posted up on my account at Ko-Fi.com/himemiyahikaru for anyone willing to help support me and keep a roof over my head since I’m a little short on rent money right now because of various life circumstances.

姫宮光る

Chapter 1

There’s No Point Anymore

Never had anything hurt more than the parting words Lena threw in Kara’s face before exiting from Kara’s life permanently, at least it was permanent for a while.

“I hate you, Kara. You are dead to me.  I never want to see you again,” Lena spat with such anger in her eyes, disdain in her voice.  Kara had never heard Lena so hateful, not even when she spoke of or to her own mother.  It felt like someone had shot her in the gut with a Kryptonite laced bullet that went straight through her.  Never had she felt such anguish like this in all her life because though the destruction of her planet had been devastating, it had been an almost abstract concept since she had fallen into the phantom zone for 24 years before crash landing right into the Danvers’ lives.  Actually, Kara would have preferred a Kryptonite bullet through the brain right about now.  That might have hurt less than this unbearable wound bleeding out of her heart, searing into her brain, and seeping underneath her skin, burrowing deeply like a parasite.  No, it would definitely have been much less painful if she was shot through the brain with a Kryptonite bullet right now.  Perhaps she deserved it if a bullet shot her right now because of the angry, wounded look on Lena’s face.

“Lena, I would apologize a hundred times if I thought that would help make you feel less hurt. I’m apologizing now, however little that means to you right now after … after everything, after lying for so long. There are no words that can express how deeply, sincerely sorry I am that I didn’t tell you sooner, that I didn’t say something when I first realized how much I trust you, how much I care for you and believe in you, Lena.”  Kara, paused, taking a deep breath to steel herself to continue talking. “However, I obviously didn’t and now … now it’s probably too late for me to apologize, but I am truly sorry, Lena.”

“Are you done, Supergirl?” Lena asked coldly, a sneer on her face, something Kara had never seen directed at her.  It hurt, but it probably didn’t hurt as much as Kara’s massive breach of trust did and Kara couldn’t imagine how much agony Lena was in right now.

Kara’s face fell, tears welling in her eyes that she tried to blink away as she looked at an unmoved Lena, still gazing at her stoically.  “I just … want to tell you how sorry I am one more time.  Lena, I have never been more remorseful for anything in my life than not telling you the truth the moment I trusted you to keep my secret, the moment I trusted in our friendship.”

“If you’re done, then leave, get the hell out of my office.  We’re done talking now.”  Lena’s face had smoothed out to show absolutely no emotion, but Kara could smell the saline of her tears in the air as well as hear how her heart pounded with ache.  It was difficult to know that she was the reason for all of it, for the way Lena was suffering right now was because she kept listening to everyone else instead of listening to her own heart and telling Lena, NDA forms be damned.

“Okay, Lena … I’ll leave but know that if you … if ever there is a day you might be able to forgive me,” Lena scoffed but didn’t interrupt Kara, “you have my number and know where to find me.  Until then … I’ll leave you be Lena.  I promise.” Lena didn’t even acknowledge Kara’s words, just gestured for her to fly out of her office through the balcony door before turning around and sitting down in her desk chair.  That was the last time Kara would see Lena for nearly two years and not under the best circumstances either.

X

One year.  It had been just over a year since Kara had last seen Lena, last spoken to the love of her life, though she didn’t dare tell Lena that.  She might have been a masochist for listening for Lena’s heartbeat any time she was anywhere within her super hearing distance of Lena to listen to that soothing heartbeat … she stopped looking for it after a few months because it wasn’t right for her to do that.  Lena wanted space and this was a violation, even if she would never know that Kara had been actively seeking her out in a way only she would be aware of, and she forced herself to stop after two and a half months of listening to that heartbeat with longing.

Today was an exception. Kara hadn’t been the one to think to come over to the LCorp building.  In fact, Kara had attempted to talk Snapper out of forcing this particular assignment on her.  Nobody had spoken to Lena for an interview in more than half a year and he wanted answers as to why she hadn’t had a public appearance in so long.  LCorp was still running even if no one had seen her coming and going from the office, rich people could use private parking in a secure parking garage that required ID to access it after all.  Being a CEO also meant being rich enough not to have to worry about not getting a meal delivered or having someone else working get it for you without having to lift a finger to get it yourself, of course.  And Kara knew all of those things, so she didn’t have any high hopes of meeting with Lena whatsoever when she went to the top floor in order to meet with Lena.

Upon exiting the elevator, she was greeted by Jess sitting at her usual desk.  Before Kara could even open her mouth, Jess was speaking, “Miss Luthor is not in her office at the moment.”

“Okay, but I was supposed to meet with her today in order to interview her for CatCo Magazine,” Kara spoke as if Jess didn’t already know she was a reporter there, but Jess didn’t comment on that and instead gave her a calculating look.  “I emailed her directly about this and someone else from LCorp emailed me back to come at this time today.”

Jess sighed, “I emailed you back in Miss Luthor’s place, Miss Danvers.  The reason for that is you won’t be able to meet with Miss Luthor to interview her ever again and I wanted to tell you in person so you wouldn’t come in everyday looking for her.  Of course, this is off the record because this isn’t an interview.”  Kara felt like the earth had suddenly crumbled beneath her feet and nothing was holding her down to the ground.  A terrible ache in her chest made itself known as tears sprang to her eyes and heartache bloomed and started throbbing throughout her chest like a plant blooming within the confines of her ribs.  “Miss Luthor left more than six months ago.  I cannot tell you where she went, only that she made sure no one would be able to find her without her express permission.  She is still running LCorp from where she is, which is why no one suspects that she is no longer CEO at the moment.”

Kara felt numb as she nodded blankly, feeling worse than how she had felt when she last spoke to Lena about her betrayal over a year ago, worse than how hollow she had been the following months without contact with her best friend, with the love of her life out of her life for such a long time.  “Why are you telling me this?”

Again, Jess looked at her in a calculating way before responding, “I’m only telling you this because I saw, firsthand, how terribly your falling out affected Miss Luthor, how agonizing it was for her to experience such a large breach of trust in someone she trusted more than anyone else in her entire life.  Though I don’t know what it was that caused such a rift between the two of you … I know that I watched her become a shell of who she once was. She hardly ever ate or left her office. I’d never seen her more devastated in all of the years I’ve worked for her and I was the one who suggested she leave for her own sake.  Miss Luthor didn’t want to leave when I first made a comment about how starting fresh somewhere might help her heal, but she finally agreed with me and now she is somewhere far, far away from where her pain resides.”  Jess gave Kara a knowing look.  The comment wasn’t meant to hurt her, just point out that living here had been destroying Lena little by little.

“Right then.  I’ll just … I’ll be on my way then, Jess. Thank you … thank you for telling me this in person when you didn’t have to … or need to let me know anything at all.” Jess responded by nodding her head and giving her a wave goodbye before getting back to her work, after all an assistant’s job is never done no matter how far away they were from their boss.

The rest of the day Kara was practically useless to Snapper so he sent her home, and it almost seemed like he was moderately concerned with her nearly catatonic state. All he got out of Kara was that Lena hadn’t been in her office.  By the time Kara came home she realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast nearly twelve hours ago but she didn’t feel hungry, not in the slightest. She went to sit down on her couch and curled up into a ball, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, and her head resting on her arms, staring blankly ahead, lost in thought. Kara wasn’t sure how much time had passed while she was lost in thoughts of how wrong her life seemed without the possibility of ever having Lena in her life again when the door to her apartment opened and Alex came through with several boxes of pizza stacked high in her arms.  If Kara hadn’t been so dazed, she would have marveled in her sister’s talent in being able to carry everything and still unlock the door as someone without superhuman capabilities.

“Hey, Kara, I brought the pizza as promised for sister … night?  What’s wrong, Kara?”  Alex came over to set the pizza boxes down on the coffee table and immediately wrapped Kara up in her arms, knowing how tactile Kara was when she wanted, or needed in this case, comfort when she was hurting over something.  For a long time, Kara was silent, just taking comfort in being in Alex’s arms and warm hug.  Kara hadn’t cried yet, nothing had really sunk in yet.  The fact that Lena was somewhere she didn’t know and couldn’t possibly hope to find her hadn’t become real yet as she sat in her dark apartment, staring at a picture frame of Lena holding her from behind, exuding happiness in her subtle smile.  Alex waited patiently for Kara to find the right words to tell her what was wrong. She knew that Kara sometimes wasn’t sure what she wanted to say yet, how to say what she wanted to say, and so she needed the time to find what she wanted to say to her.  “Take your time, sweetie.”  Alex kissed her forehead tenderly for a long moment before leaning back, looking Kara in the eye when she made a noise.

“She’s gone, Alex, and I’ll probably never see her again.”  Alex furrowed her brows but remembered why she had come over to Kara’s apartment in the first place: Lena Luthor.  Kara had excitedly told her that Lena had accepted an interview with her for earlier today and Alex insisted that she should come over after she was done at work so that she could bring celebratory pizza over or consolation pizza if things didn’t go as planned with the interview.  “Jess, her assistant,” as if Alex didn’t know who she was from the various times she had gone to Lena’s office over the years, “was actually the one who emailed me in Lena’s place to accept the meeting to … to tell me in person that Lena left the country a long time ago.  Maybe she felt bad for me or just knew that I would keep coming if Lena never answered.  I’m not sure, but she said that the reason she asked me to come in person was so that I wouldn’t come by the office everyday looking for her because she’s not in the same state, let alone same country anymore, from how she said it anyways since she never specified if Lena was still in the country or not.  Just said that she was … far, far away from here … from me.”

“Oh, Kara.  Come here.”  Alex felt Kara bury her face into her neck, finally shedding tears at the finality of the whole situation, of the realization that Lena never wanted to see her face again and she truly meant it.  There was no way to fix this, no way to make things better without Lena coming back and telling Kara that she had forgiven her, that they could be friends again, or at the very least that she would be in the same city as her even if she never spoke to her again in an unofficial capacity.  Being acquaintances would be better than not being anything to each other at all.  Kara’s thoughts just spiraled from there.  Nothing was going to make any of this okay again.  After that Kara didn’t speak another word for the rest of the night, hardly even touched the pizza, much to Alex’s dismay and concern.

X

It had been months since Kara had discovered that Lena had moved out of the city to someplace Kara would never know.  Days all blended together, weeks sped by while she felt like she wasn’t moving at all, and before Kara even knew it, it had been four months since she found out that Lena made sure Kara would never see her by accident on the street, while shopping for groceries, just doing something in public where they could bump into each other by pure luck.  Kara hardly ate, barely slept, and stopped going out with her friends.  Why eat when everything was tasteless, why sleep when she was haunted by her dreams, though being awake was like living a nightmare she couldn’t escape, and why try to enjoy life when life was meaningless?  It was unanimously decided that game night wasn’t game night without Kara after the sixth time Kara failed to show up or participate with any sense of enthusiasm if she showed up.  Just looking at her compared to how effervescent she was before was more than just disheartening, it was downright depressing. Things just hadn’t been the same since Kara found out that Lena moved away to get away from her, to take any and all chances of them reconciling away and disappearing out of Kara’s life permanently.

Ever since Kara discovered Lena had left she had been taking more and more risks, in fact everything she did was without the slightest hint of caution or sense in order to stop natural disasters, crime, or unknown alien threats.  Kara went into every fight recklessly, was hungover or drunk on rare occasions when something happened while she was at home drinking her weight in her favorite alien liquors and drowning in her misery.  Alex had had enough of watching her sister destroy herself and finally exploded after one time too many.  “Why are you doing this to yourself Kara?”

Kara smiled hollowly, “because there’s no point anymore.”  Alex had wanted to question what she meant but she was pretty sure the answer was something she wouldn’t be able to stomach if she questioned Kara about her comment.  Alex resolved to find Lena by any means necessary and would do it with or without the DEOs permission and resources if she had to for Kara’s sake.  Nothing was going to stop her from finding that damn Luthor, nothing.

X

Kara hadn’t been the same since she found out Lena had left National City.  Every time she left for a mission, Alex couldn’t help but worry it would be the last time she saw her sister alive and well, physically at least. There was no doubt that Kara was mentally, emotionally broken inside, psychologically scarred in a way Alex couldn’t hope to heal her.  And though Alex couldn’t blame Lena for leaving, she could blame Lena for not coming back, for not telling Kara in person that she was leaving and never coming back, something at least that wouldn’t have broken Kara so much at the loss of her deepest friendship and, though Kara hadn’t told her, the love of her life.  Though Kara had broken her trust, Kara shouldn’t have to die in order to be forgiven, should she?  Should anyone?  No, there was no way Lena could be so cruel.  She had to find Lena no matter what.  It had already been two months of this destructive behavior and Alex couldn’t watch her sister kill herself any longer.  Alex was going to find Lena even if it took weeks, months, or years to find her wherever she was hiding out.

Alex recruited Winn to find Lena’s trail because there was no way for her to hide all technological traces, even if she was a genius multi-billionaire with nearly limitless resources.  Winn was her best shot (no pun intended) at finding Lena before it was too late, before Kara succeeded in killing herself and justifying it as a heroic death instead of what it truly was: suicide.  It was frustrating the first two months having no progress because Lena was damn good at hiding her transactions from all of those months ago when she left. Being that it had been nearly a year since she left it was even harder than if the trail had been fresh.  Almost everything Alex and Winn looked into turned into a dead end with false dummy interactions and set ups to lead anyone trying to find her astray into multiple promising looking clues that turned out to be nothing.  It was almost as if Lena had disappeared entirely off the face of the earth and Alex was starting to wonder if Lena had somehow gone to a different earth parallel to theirs with some kind of invention when Winn finally found a lead two months after they first started looking without Kara even being that curious about what they were doing.  Just a curious inquiry about what they were constantly talking about these days and an acceptance when the answers weren’t very forthcoming.  Alex nearly cried in frustration and pain at her sister’s lackluster response and general despondence becoming so common.  She shouldn’t be this way, shouldn’t be so indifferent to everything going on around her like she was merely a spectator to her own life and those in her life.  One glance at Winn told her that Winn agreed wholeheartedly.

They started working even harder to figure out where the hell Lena had gone to stump everyone out of finding her location.  It had been a grueling two months to find something promising that wasn’t a complete waste of time being a dummy account or transaction to fend off potential enemies looking for Lena for them to have something that gave them both a spark of hope that they would find her yet for Kara’s sake.  Kara didn’t look like herself anymore, blonde hair no longer shining like it used to because of how much sun she would take in, her skin looked pale, she looked tired, and thin, so utterly thin and small compared to how larger than life she had been prior to her finding out about Lena.  Even when Kara had initially had her falling out with Lena it hadn’t been this bad.  Sure, Kara had lost her appetite for about two weeks before realizing that it wasn’t how she should look at things if she wanted to fix her mistake.  Kara had taken to giving Lena space and hoping that after some time they could start talking and build their friendship back up from scratch, start over again.  The thought of a fresh start gave Kara treacherous hope before Lena snatched that away effectively by ensuring they would never see each other again by disappearing out of Kara’s life, permanently.

What started off as a little clue that didn’t turn out to be nothing became something more, something that felt like the beginning of salvation, a way to save Alex’s sister, to save Winn’s best friend.  It was another two months before they found something even more solid, something better than a slight trace that might lead to Lena eventually, considering how long it had taken them to find a mere bread crumb of a clue.  Losing hope was the only way they wouldn’t find Lena, so after more than four months, Alex and Winn were becoming more and more sure of the fact that Lena was somewhere in Asia that was extremely remote.  Being half a world away was the farthest she could have possibly gone in order to avoid Kara after all.  It took another two weeks to narrow it down to an isolated part of China that was mostly countryside but not too far from the city.  Alex gave Winn a hug when he figured out what it was Lena had done, how she had been able to avoid detection so well that it took them four and a half months just figure out that Lena hadn’t, in fact, just moved away from the city.  She had in fact used someone else to camouflage her movement and hidden herself somewhere in the middle of nowhere that wasn’t too far from civilization. It was certain that Lena wasn’t living with whomever her camouflage friend was, based on the camera footage he could find of her only occasionally appearing at said person’s residence, she just used the address for important pieces of mail that was forwarded to the address somehow by Jess to the person who was most likely a relative of hers. The whole thing was ingenious and Alex would have admired such a sneaky tactic if it hadn’t been used as a way to escape Kara and avoid their problems without giving Kara a say about whether she would ever be forgiven for lying to Lena for just over two years of friendship.

Either way, Alex had finally managed to track Lena down with Winn’s help and she wasn’t going to waste another second in the DEO without planning a way to make it to China within the next week to save Kara from herself.  Getting a few days off from J’onn wasn’t difficult since he knew what she was doing when she asked him to clear her work schedule for a few days in order to do what she needed to do.

X

Alex had never thought about how long flying to a country half the world away would take but, damn, she had been on the airplane for twelve hours to get to South Korea with a layover of only two hours, which wasn’t terrible, and then had to fly another four hours to the airport closest to Lena’s assistant’s sister’s apartment. Thinking that always gave Alex a bit of a headache because there were so many possessives all in one thought. Alex was just so happy to finally be off of the airplane and moving towards her goal to finding Lena. Reaching out to Jess’ sister would have alerted Lena in advance so, Alex decided to just drop in as soon as possible after settling into her hotel and finding some mode of transportation that would be inexpensive for her but also convenient.  She was a little nervous now that she was here, that she was this close to fixing Kara, to the person who held the key to making Kara feel better. Every minute since she left the airport after getting a taxi was a bit nerve wracking, in a good way.  After she settled into her hotel room, she paced around the limited space within the room, coming up with a game plan.  She had made sure to calculate every step of the way from the how long the flights and layovers were down to how long it would take from with a taxi to the hotel she was staying at.  Everything was calculated and now she needed to think of a way to approach Isla, Jess’ sister, without alarming her.  Perhaps the truth might help, but it had a chance of hindering her chances instead if Isla knew all of the circumstances that lead to Lena hiding away.

Then again, if Alex was dishonest then she would lose all chances of even seeing Lena for a single moment.  No, she would be brutally honest and appeal to Isla’s love for her own sister to get her to see that Alex only wanted to save Kara from herself and give Lena a chance to come back and clear the air with Kara hopefully.  That’s all she wanted.  Yes, that would be her best bet at getting Isla to allow Alex to talk to Lena about coming back.

Mind made up, Alex went downstairs to ask about the bus system here, since it was much cheaper than taking the bullet train instead, and went on her way to Isla’s apartment. The whole ride there she planned out what she wanted to say to her.  It wasn’t hard to think of the words, to reach inside and honestly think about how hard it was to see her sister suffering from heartache.  Before Alex knew it, she had reached the stop closest to Isla’s apartment and started walking to the apartment, a fifteen-minute walk according to her GPS.

Before Alex was entirely ready she was standing before a very well built and beautiful condominium that was definitely paid for by an extremely wealthy person.  It just reeked of money, more money than even those with higher end jobs could afford to pay.  The outside looked simple enough, like a regular condominium for someone with an extremely well paying job, but there were little things that Alex knew to look for that it made it obvious it was worth several million dollars such as the gated entryway, the higher end security unit used to gain access, the somewhat hidden security cameras, and a few other things that made it worth more than it looked without noticing such details upon first glance.  Alex hesitated, unsure of how to approach in order to gain access until she noticed something that looked like an intercom to buzz into the apartments.  Upon seeing that, Alex took a deep breath to steel herself before walking the few steps over to the intercom and pressing the one to indicate she wanted to talk to Huang, Isla and even the first buzz caused nerves to eat away at Alex as she waited.  Finally, after four rings, someone answered, hopefully it was Isla and not someone else who might possibly run away if she was there right now and realized Alex was here too early.

“Hello?” a voice asked.

“Um, hi, is this Isla by any chance?” Alex inquired in response, just to be sure.

“Yes, this is she. Whom am I speaking to?” she replied back.

“My name is Alex Danvers and I was hoping you could help me with something important.  I’d rather not say over the intercom what it is, but it is regarding someone you know about someone important to me.”  There was silence for several seconds and every second Alex held her breath until she heard the intercom come back to life.

“I have a feeling I know what this is about, but come on in.”  With that she heard the unusually pleasant-sounding ring that allowed her entrance, something that was paid for by the rich people who reside here no doubt. Walking in, she walked to the appropriate condominium unit and knocked tentatively.  After just a moment the door opened to reveal someone who looked relatively similar to Jess.  Isla motioned for Alex to come in and said, “shoes off please,” as she walked further into the condominium towards a spacious living room area that looked homey. There were several picture frames on a mantle area near the couch showing Isla with various family members, one of just Isla and Jess smiling together on a beach, and one even had a picture of Lena with the sisters.  The one with Lena and the sisters looked like it had been taken at an event they had all attended because of how well dressed they all were.  Alex was broken out of her musings by Isla’s voice.  “So, you wanted to talk, right?”  Her voice was hesitant though not entirely unkind.

“Right, yes.  My name is Alex, as I stated, and I wanted to talk to you about my sister, Kara.”  Isla seemed unsurprised by that fact, but nodded for Alex to go on, seemingly willing to listen to her plead her case.  “Okay, so I’m not sure if you know, though I highly doubt that you wouldn’t know about this, that my sister had a falling out with Lena nearly two years ago now.  They haven’t spoken in all of that time, nor seen each other.  Kara tried to give Lena space to heal and didn’t try to see her in person for over a year before your sister told her what Lena had done, that Lena had left National City entirely.  That was kind of her to do that instead of leaving Kara coming back everyday and hoping Lena will eventually meet her without knowing that Lena hasn’t been in National City since long before her first attempt to see her in person.” Isla nodded along, listening to Alex intently and that gave Alex a spark of hope that things might actually turn out better than she had thought it would.  Optimism had never been her strong suit, everyone knew Kara was the ray of hope and as positive as sunshine after all.  “So, ever since she found out that Lena left without a word she has become … a danger to herself in every way possible.  Before this she had only ever gotten drunk a few times in her life but now she has shown up to work either hungover still or drunk once when there was a work emergency just enough times for it to be disconcerting though not entirely out of line.  And not only that, but she is now extremely careless and has been putting herself in tremendous danger.  She has not gone a week without being seen for various injuries for more than three days in the last eight months.  Ever since she found out Lena left she hasn’t really smiled much, she never seems like she’s there when she shows up to hang out with friends, but most of all … I think she’s trying to kill herself whether it is intentional or not, whether she realizes that that is what she’s doing or not.  I’m scared that one day I’m going to get a call that my sister didn’t make it, that she died saving someone else’s life.  Suicide dressed up as a heroic act instead.  I don’t know for sure, but that’s the scariest part. The way she’s been acting, I can’t help but fear that she is in fact suicidal and it hurts knowing that nothing I’ve said or done has helped.”

Isla swallowed hard and gave Alex a few moments to compose herself, tears having gathered in her eyes before she couldn’t hold them back anymore, too distraught over the thought of her sister succeeding one day.  After Alex calmed down a bit, Isla finally spoke up.  “What is it that you want from me exactly, Alex?”

“All I want is to tell Lena that she might not have a chance to talk to Kara and fix their friendship if that’s what she wants to do before Kara manages to kill herself in some act of heroism.  If she doesn’t want to live with that regret then she better let me talk to her and let her know where things stand right now.”  Alex’s voice was strong this time, despite the sorrow still coating her heavy eyes.

“How about I make you a cup of tea and we can sit at the table while we wait for Lena then?”  Alex couldn’t believe her ears and she was sure her jaw was hanging from the shock of hearing those words.

“Of course.  Thank you.”  Isla simply smiled and hoped she was doing the right thing by everyone involved.

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Sex Contract  - Part 14

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 - FINAL

Chapter 14 – Kaia’s POV.

 Two days passed by quickly. Kaia had never truly had access to Changmin’s entire schedule before and although she did nothing but take notes and a few photos here and there, she was exhausted with trying to keep up. She constantly felt like she needed more caffeine in her system, whilst Yunho and Changmin seemed to power on effortlessly. They had an uncanny way to make the most of every minute of the day in Japan, working from dawn to dusk, and last night they had even continued through to nearly five am. It literally felt like Kaia had only closed her eyes for ten minutes before she was violently shaken awake.

“Kai, wake up, we have to get to the studio for our interview this morning.”

“Sleeping,” she mumbled and rolled over, only to feel Changmin’s weight now over her body, his hands prying her away from the blankets. “No Minnie, I need sleep. I’m not a robot like you, I’m human. I can’t sleep on ten minutes.”

“You’ve had four hours, now come on get up.”

“Lies, I just closed my eyes.” Kaia relented and squinted through her tired eyes to find the alarm clock on the bedside table saying it was 9AM. She was sure it was tricking her but the sun shining through the blinds that Changmin had opened proved that she was wrong. Kaia let out a loud groan.

“Now would you get up and shower so I can?” he urged impatiently, hoisting her out of the spare room’s bed and carrying her into the bathroom. He dumped Kaia on the cold tile floors and she gasped at the sensation, glaring up at him. He pointed at the shower cubicle. “Shower. Now.”

“Mr Grumpy pants, why don’t you just shower instead first?” she told him from the floor and he gave her a look.

“Your hair is ridiculously out of control.”

“So?”

“So you’re meeting Kaori Kimura today. Aren’t you going to put any effort in for me?”

Kaia shook her sleepy head. “Why? It’s you dating her not me.”

“What rubbish backup you’re turning out to be,” he grunted and yanked down his pyjama pants, turning on the shower and hopping in. Kaia finally was awake enough to move and got up, glancing into the slowly steaming up mirror and gasped.

“My hair!”

“I told you it was like a bush,” he said matter-of-factly from within the shower cubicle. “And I gave you the opportunity to shower but now I’m just going to enjoy my time.”

“Ugh!” Kaia exclaimed, whipping off her own bedclothes and yanking back on the shower door. Changmin gaped at her, but Kaia didn’t care, pushing her way into the water too. “Share with me.”

“Uh, no I like hot water too much.”

“You also like sex too much and you won’t get any if you don’t share,” she bartered, the taller man groaning at her fact. He complied, stepping an inch to the left.

“Now my side is getting cold!” he complained, shoving her aside instantly and letting the hot water warm him back up. Glaring at his rudeness, Kaia moved in closer to Changmin and reached around to reposition the nozzle head.

“Better?”

He shot daggers at her. “Would be so much nicer if you weren’t in here, but yes I suppose it will do.”

“Sharing showers in movies always seems so easy.”

“Sharing showers with people only works if you’re about to do something in it. You’re not worrying about being out of the water droplets then.”

“Ahhh,” Kaia murmured with a nod, stepping closer to Changmin again. He eyed her appreciatively and she stretched up to his face. “Something like this?”

Kaia kissed his lips and he instantly responded, grabbing her body and pressing it against his. Taking advantage of his weakness, Kaia continued to kiss him and spun them around, pulling away from his lips to smile in triumph. He stared at her for a moment and then realised what she had done. By then, Kaia was happily rinsing the shampoo she had previously put into her hair.

“Goddammit woman,” he cursed and then grabbed for the soap, the pair of them fighting over the water until they were both done.

Kaia could tell that Changmin was on edge as he completed his morning and afternoon schedules. As the time ticked forward, he grew quieter and brooding. She didn’t like this side to him much, whenever he closed her out there was nothing she could do to help him. And since Kaia was there as a press member for SME and Korea Star, she was hardly allowed to overstep boundaries in front of all the professionals surrounding them. All the same, at every opportunity she tried to get his mind off his task ahead. It was fruitless on her behalf; Changmin had been trained too well to keep his mind on his job, even the dirty work.

“You reckon he will crack tonight?” Kaia asked Yunho worriedly as they stopped for a quick dinner and the older Korean shook his head. “But he seems so-”

“He’s psyching himself up to put on the best acting you’ll ever see live. Don’t worry, he’ll do us proud.”

“Right. What will he be like afterwards?” she wondered and Yunho gave her a weird look before smiling.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“W-what?!” Kaia cried and then shoved him playfully. “He’s your friend too, and he’s not happy, why wouldn’t you be concerned?”

“Changmin’s a big boy. He’s survived bigger deals than pretending to date some woman. But you however, how will you cope?”

Kaia frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t have a part in this.”

“Don’t you?” he asked, and leant down to her ear. “What about the agreement?”

“How does that have any implication here Yunho?” she asked weakly, feeling her heart beat slower. It was an awkward topic to be discussing, even though Kaia knew he was aware of it all.

“Emotions are tied into everything we do, Kaia.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m not really following.”

“You will in time.”

Although Kaia wasn’t allowed into the event being held that night, she got to see Kaori Kimura several times that evening. Kaia had been lucky enough to be a part of the staff admitted into the building though, the boys’ manager taking a bit of a shining to her with every cup of coffee she bought him without being asked to. Because of this, he seemed to like having Kaia wherever he was, and thus she was able to watch the monitor in the dressing room of what was happening at the event.

Her first encounter with the woman was on that screen, watching as she brightly smiled at the audience, her thin and elegant face making Kaia let out a sigh in awe. She was truly a classical beauty and for a moment Kaia wondered what exactly made Changmin despise the idea of being with the woman. She was truly envious of her carriage, and could understand why she was so many girls’ inspiration looks wise back in Korea. With this new judgement, Kaia was determined to tell Changmin he was being silly as soon as she saw him. She knew he was stubborn, but from what Kaia had seen, Kaori seemed so lovely.

This view soon changed when Kaia went to the bathroom and managed to see Kaori and an entourage of staff around her in person. She threw her fur shawl at a small Japanese woman beside her, whilst prattling off in the language. Although Kaia couldn’t understand much, the body language and vicious sounds that accompanied her words were enough for her to get the gist of the model’s true nature. Kaia stepped towards the door of the ladies room just as Kaori approached it and she gave Kaia a hard look, her dark eyes travelling up from her legs to her face, and finally settled with a smirk adorning her pouty lips. Kaia dove into the bathroom quickly then, feeling like Kaori’s eyes had attacked her. Taking a deep breath, she shakily went over to a cubicle and then washed her hands, looking into the mirror. A poster of Kaori Kimura was conveniently reflecting from the wall behind her and Kaia sighed, feeling a little inadequate still. She could now understand why Changmin found her so vulgar. She reminded Kaia of UEE’s character in the Korean drama You’re Beautiful with the many faces that she shared with the people around her. Making her way out of the room, Kaia hurried back to the TVXQ dressing room and waited for the pair to return.

The only way Kaia saw them for the following hour was on the monitor and she was unable to take much more of the acting between Changmin and Kaori. Yunho was right; his younger friend was very good at playing his part when requested. To the average viewer, they would be able to see some kind of romance was about to blossom between the pair. Kaia almost started to believe it herself as she watched the show, and the stylist whom Kaia had enjoyed the company of soon clasping her hands together.

“Aren’t they a dream worthy match?” Nayoung sighed happily and Kaia merely nodded in response. “Do you reckon Changmin will like her as much as she seems to like him?”

“Hard-” Kaia stopped her first thought and cleared her throat. “I’m not sure, but I wish them luck if they do end up together.”

“Fans will go crazy over it though.” She seemed to get serious over the matter. “Do you reckon they’d accept it? I mean Changmin is deemed a god in Cassiopeia’s eyes. And she’s truly a goddess. So perhaps fans will be happy that two people in the same league are together?”

“I’m not sure,” Kaia repeated though she felt sad at Nayoung’s statement. It made sense and that was probably what SME was counting on. Even though fans wished to be with Changmin, the likelihood of any idol dating a non-celebrity was as small a chance as winning the lottery twice in your lifetime. Kaia had been incredibly lucky to get as far as she had with Changmin, and they weren’t even dating.

Looking back at the screen, Kaia watched as the glamorous couple danced around under the romantic lighting and nodded to herself. It was a good thing she was not trying to date Shim Changmin after all.

_________________

Part 15

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Oh, Blessed Child of Our Gods

Monsta X

Shin Hoseok [Wonho] /Reader

Genre: Demon AU, Violence, Romance, Smut

Words: 13k 

When Demons came to Earth, they had opened up a realm of impossibilities. The worlds were out of balance, with Demons running a muck from Hell and Earth, so the Heaven’s were sent to correct the issue, not sending Angels though.  Which each infant born, few are marked by the Gods.  The Gods created a temple, one that only Blessed Children may go through at any time of their life.  There are a total of 6 blessed children currently known, the strongest of them blessed by 8 gods.  However, what if a child walked through every gate of that temple, blessed by the entire Heavens.  And what if choose a Demon instead the life of a Blessed Child? 

-----------------------------

The Temple of The Blessed.  It was a Temple with 20 gates, all leading up into the center where it’s rumored to be the gateway to the Heavens.  One’s been able to prove this though, as there has not yet been a single child who has made it that far.  The farthest a child has come to the center is gate 14, blessed by 8 Gods.  For every two gates passed, that’s one blessing from a single god, as 10 Gods had helped build this temple before disappearing back among the sky.  

Blessed Children are those who are touched by the gods when they are born, the sound of their cries attracting the gods; the highest on the social pyramid of the Earth.  Yet, these children are exceedingly rare to happen upon.  Once a Blessed Child is born and has passed through their gates, they can then have the option of marking one single person.  By marking a person, they are claiming protective rights as well as a sense of status over their name.  They would be by the Child’s side until the mark is lifted; they are known as the Marked Ones.  Each Blessed Child has a Marked One by their side.

It’s said that when that when one truly, Blessed Child comes into the world and passes through all 20 gates, they will banish the Demon’s back into Hell and seal off Heaven’s gates and destroy the temple for good.  Resorting Earth back to it’s original human populous.  But, even the oldest of prophesy's can be rewritten. 

You had been walking around the city, trying your best to ignore the ignorant shouting and preaching of the public Priests, trying to ‘peacefully protest’ against the populous of Demons. Trying to rid them away by shouting and praising their oh so mighty Gods in Heaven who will one day bless them with a Child to fix their unruly, tainted, ugly Earth.  

It was total garbage.  They could shove aluminum cans into their mouths and it’d make more sense as to why they were eating something like that than the stupid biblical words they keep yapping on and on again.  

You were human, not Demon by far, but you refused the ways of the Gods.  Demons had been among the human race for nearly 5 decades. it was 2031 for Christ sake! 50 years with them and only 6 Blessed Children with no leader among them didn’t seem like good odds for getting them back into Hell.  Not like you had anything against Demon’s to begin with.  If anything, you hated Humans.  

You hated that you were like other humans in ways.  Unable to breath underwater, being burned by fire, glass cutting your finger and bleeding until you covered it with a bandage.  Demons had impeccable healing abilities, could stand harsh conditions and had other means of survival than food.  Many Demons had adapted into a human-like life style, and you wondered how anyone could stomach that.  

So, it wasn’t unusual to you that your small group of friends were also Demons. Not a human among them. This of course made your life difficult.  Your parent’s shunning you, your classmates and scholars all shaming you, bulling you for siding with the ‘Evil’, but they were just naive.  

You were pulled from your annoyance that is your reeling about the sins of the world when the earpiece lodged into your ear began relentlessly beeping.  Wincing, you quickly flipped a small switch on it to open up a communication.  

X-43B, that was the model number printed on the side of yours. It was modeled after what the older generates of decades ago called a Bluetooth, but it was much more flamboyant.  Receiving calls, accessing the internet through a small projection that would be shown through a small private screen when activated, even video calls seemed more extravagant.  They can even be hooked up to game consoles or other peoples communicators for impossibly wide possibilities of entertainment. 

“Is there a reason why one of you little Demons changed my ringtone to a horrible sound that will surely make me go deaf?!”  You screamed into the line before even mustering a hello.  There was multiple laughter coming through the other end as you hissed. 

“Girl, if only you put that lock on it like I keep telling you, you’d learn your lesson.”  You rolled your eyes as you switched the setting to the call to stream a video feed.  A transparent image of your best friend popped up, a grin on his face as you saw 3 other figures behind him, still giggling away.  “You finally out of your stupid human classes?” 

“Listen Wonho,” it wasn’t his real name, but he had preferred this name over his birth name.  “College is important for me okay, I have to keep my academic grade up if I even want to think about a career nowadays.” 

“Why?  All they do is bully you. And I thought it wasn’t that hard to grab a job as a human?  Just sign out an application thing and boom, employment.”  You shook your head.  Your demon friends all went to school, but after too much stress, pressure and segregation from being Demon’s they all dropped out.  They weren’t taught the old and new ways of the human life style.  

“That was back in like the 20s, Wonho.  Now, you have to have sufficient academic studies, go through medical exams, a series of tests to prove that you’re not actually a Demon, a lot of stuff.”  

“That’s completely stupid,” he huffed.  “You should just forget that and come live with us!  We can keep you fed and housed and you won’t even been bullied anymore!” 

“As much as living in your giant, Demon infested dorm sounds just grand,” your voice dripped in sarcasm, “I know for a fact that I couldn’t handle living with all 7 of you at once at this point in time. I’d physically rip my hair out.” 

“But Y/N~!”  He whined.  He always did this when it came to you saying no.  But, you were well passed the point of waving his stupid pout off.  Or so you kept telling yourself.  You’d never admit that you had a soft spot for it, or him for that matter.  Besides, it’s unheard of for a human to fall for a Demon.  Never once has it happened, and you won’t let your stupid human emotions ruin anything else for you.  

“I’m heading over there now, and unless you don’t want me to stop and get you guys food, you’ll stop whining.”  You threatened as you hung your finger over the switch of your X-43B and flipped it, ending the call.  The transparent image of the handsome man was gone and you sighed.  You had your bag on your back, filled with heavy books and unfinished papers with your pen that you snatched from your desk neighbor.  

You wish that humanities technology had come further than it has.  But reading in text books and writing on electric circuited pads wasn’t much different than now.  All your professors gave you the same answer though.  Technology can be advanced, but they refuse to do it, afraid the demons would sink their claws into it and take over the humans.  Humans are so petty, weak, frightened.  A species that claims to be the top of the food chain sure is all bark and no bite.  Reason number a billion why you hated being associated with the main, planet born population. 

🌙🌙🌙 

It wasn’t too much time later that you were unlocking a door to a house just outside the city.  Big enough for a family of 10, but just your 7 friends living in it.  Honestly, you don’t even know if they paid for anything, but they’ve lived here for as long as you’ve known them.  

A brown, paper bag in your left hand full of bottles of various beverages and bags of random, salty and sweet snacks you took your key from the doorknob and shut it behind you with your right hand.  Stuffing your keys into your pocket, you heel off your shoes, and walk into the kitchen.  It was quiet, something that surely wouldn’t last long.  

You set the brown back bag, as well as dropping your school bag, on the counter, not ever bothering to unload everything from inside, you trotted into the living room and flopped yourself down on the couch.  Your back hit the plush cushions and your legs hung off the arm rest, as you shut your eyes.  Resting and laying down sure felt nice. It was probably 20 seconds of solace before you heard rushed foot steps from the second floor and soon bounding down the carpeted staircase. 

“Y/N!”  Before you lift yourself off the couch, your were tackled back onto it.  A large body crashing into you, well- larger than yours anyways.  His fuzzy, have dry hair tickling your chin as he tucked his head into your chest, laying on top of you.  You tapped on his back, feeling him groan at the silent plea for him to get off you. 

“You’re hair isn’t dry, your half naked and your heavy.  Please get off me Minhyuk.” The boy pouted and once again you found yourself really questioning if this boy was really a demon or not.  He had clearly bolted right out of the bathroom from getting dressed from his shower.  He normally had someone dry his hair for him though, liking the attention, so his caretaker didn’t do their job of keeping him in the room for very long.  

“You literally saw me yesterday.”

“A whole 24 hours passed since then!”

“Oh my,” you groaned.  Minhyuk reminded you, and most people he was familiar with, of a dog who would cry at the door if their master was going to their bathroom.  Not much of a Demon vibe came from him, but not a human one either.  He was a cheery presence, but acceptable, likable, comfortable. Minhyuk sniffed you as you slapped at his head. 

“You smell different.”  You rolled your eyes.  

“Is it the food I brought?”  He shook his head.  “The coffees, my laundry detergent, my-”

“Your shampoo!  You changed it! You smell like rain now!” True.  You use to always use this honeysuckle scent shampoo that you could pick up for cheap at the closet store, but recently they had an even cheaper shampoo take to the shelves and that’s more money in your pocket than handed over a counter.  It’s not like it smelled bad anyways. 

“Okay, so I smell like rain.  That a problem?”  He shook his head again, laughing. 

“Nope! I think it’s actu-AH!”  He was cut off by his shout of shock when he was pushed off you.  You heaved your chest, the heavy man now off you and looked at Wonho, leaning over the back of the couch and staring at Minhyuk, whom now lay on the floor after the older graciously shoved him off you.  He gaze then shifted to your form, still laying on the couch. 

“Feel better?” He asked as he leaned over the cushion and grabbed your bicep pressed against the back of the couch and pulled you to sit up.  You nodded as you rolled your neck and then looked back at Wonho.  He was staring at you. 

“What?  You going to say I smell different too?” He narrowed his eyes, just slightly, as he nodded. 

“You do. I just know it’s not your shampoo that’s making the difference.”  You rose your brow at him as he just huffed.  He walked around the couch to stand in front of your hanging legs that were over the arm of the plush seating choice and then seized your waist, lifting you up and hoisting you over his shoulder.  You put your hands on the small of his back to brace yourself, and make it so that your face didn’t smash into his shoulder blades.  

“What the hell was that for?!  Put me down!”  He laughed as he shook his head and started running upstairs, you protesting the entire time.  The third person, who still lay on the floor, remained on the floor until Jooheon came and took him back upstairs to finish getting dried up and dressed before he caught a chill.  

Wonho had finally set you back down on your feet, but quickly turned his back on you to shut and locked his door.  It wasn’t an unfamiliar room, it was his room.  You’d sit up in here and read, or throw his stuffed rabbits at his head while he fiddled with his computer most days.  

You were straightening out your shirt when he came back to you and he put his hand on your shoulder.  You looked at it, then up to him.  

“Let me see.”  You sighed.  Of course this is why he dragged you up here.  

“It’s really not that bad.”  

“I don’t care.  Let me see it.” You huffed once again as you let your arms drop from fixing your clothes and relaxed as he pulled slightly on the neck of your shirt.  He revealed your shoulder, collarbone, along with the long, risen, red cut that practically glowed against your skin.  He ran his thumb over the cut as he used his fingers to keep your shirt away from it. “What was it this time?” 

“A really well made plastic knife actually.” The fact that you preferred Demons to humans wasn’t welcomed, as it’s already known, so that would result in many fights. None of which you picked, they were always thrown at you.  You wouldn’t let someone beat you down, you had to defend yourself.  

“You should really stop getting into fights all the time.”  You rolled your eyes. How many times has he told you this, and how many more time is he going to have to tell you.  Nothing will change, even 5 years from now, nothing will ever change. “I know it’s partially our fault you fight, but honestly, can’t you just avoid it?” 

“It’s not your fault.  Just because I like you guys more than some snobby human girl named “Patricia”, doesn’t mean it’s any of your fault. Besides, you know I can’t avoid it, I’ve tried.” Wonho remembered the first day you got into a fight.  It was the first and only day you didn’t fight back.  You came back to this house, came back to him, with bruises, cuts and blood covering you.  He was furious that night.  

“I know, I just-” He sighed.  “I wish they wouldn’t hate you so much. I mean, how can someone possibly hate you of all people?” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s a human thing.  You wouldn’t understand.”  

“So it seems. Hold still.”  

“Wait, no it’s fine.”  You started to get jittery.  You knew that with each Demon, someone, somewhere has some sort of power.  It can be anywhere from teleportation to instantly have your nails painted.  Useful, or useless.  Wonho’s was something that was pretty useful to those around him, but not to himself.  His body was swimming with healing cells: Mitigation.  He could take away the pain and heal- to an extent- someone’s injuries.  Either be it by his blood or-

“It’s all red and risen.  It’s fine, just stand still a second.”  He gripped your arms and lowered his face to your shoulder.  Slipping his tongue out of his mouth, he ran the muscle up the entirety of the cut.  You shivered.  

-by saliva.  You hated when he did this. Hated?  Well, perhaps not hated.  It was a feeling that was pleasant, but you wished it not to be.  It was when he did this that you had to remind yourself that you, a human, shouldn’t fall for him, a demon. He had a heart of gold for someone who was suppose to be so dark, this being something he was so naive about.  

The psychical attention he gave you was far higher than he thought it was.  Demon’s don’t think about attention in physical or mental aspects the same way humans do.  We can get a small flutter in our chests when holding hands, yet for them if they want to feel anything it takes much more effort.  Shownu once described it as, ‘if they think they might feel something of attachment towards another, the easiest way to prove it is through thorough physical touch.’  

Or in laymen’s terms, through sex. 

So, the fact that this man, this demon is here licking your neck and not acting like anything else is bothering him, is both reassuring and stomach churning.  The logical and mortality parts of your stupid human brain were constantly at war with the idea of him. 

“There, see.  It’s already better.” He stepped away from, you but only just enough to watch your cut close and practically blend it with the rest of your skin.  You swatted his hand away and pulled your shirt back up your shoulder.  He knew you didn’t like it when he did that, but he didn’t know why.  He couldn’t comprehend why you could rather live with any pain when it was so much easier when he could just fix you. 

“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to drag me all the way up here just to lick me, you pervert.”  You remarked at him.  He faked a gasped, slapping a hand on his chest and posing a dramatic facial expression, as this was practically routine. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him as you stepped around him and left the room after unlocking the door, hearing the hustle and bustle that is your friends downstairs. He watched your back with a specific, hidden look and followed after you. 

He’d never tell you out loud that he only took you to his room to do that because he’d actually keel over in embarrassment if the others saw him lick you. Especially with all the information they know and keep held over his head.   

The afternoon progressed as it normally did.  It was a rinse and repeat life style, but you could live with it. You’d go to school, more than likely get into a fight, stop by some sort of coffee place for drinks and snacks and then you’d go to their home until it was late and you were forced back into your own.  That time had finally hit that night.  

11 PM.  You had sighed as you lifted yourself off the couch and stretched, all the boys shifting their eyes to look at you, watching your arms extend and lock above your head before dropping them with a huff.  

“Well, I’m off,” the same line as every night. It was almost all the same as every other night, but now you watched as Shownu gave a quick glance to Wonho who then stood up next to you, jabbing at your sides making you squeal and swat at him.  

“I’ll take you home.”  

“What? Why?” 

“Because I can, now move it or I’ll lock the front door so you’re stuck here for the night.”  You watched as he brushed past you to get to the door around the corner, slipping on his shoes. This was new.  He’d normally just whine about you going home, and make you call him on the way there until you got inside safe and sound.  He’d never personally taken you himself though, as you were afraid if someone were to see him out so late, they’d judge him just because he wasn’t human.  

You quickly trotted after him, tattered shoes bouncing off the ground as you followed him out the door.  He stuck his hands in his hoodie pouch and made sure you too keep you a slight step in front of him so he can keep an eye on you, or for anyone that you may regretfully know.  If you saw anyone, there was a chance of a fight and he was going to make sure that didn’t happen.  

Part of him wanted to see you fight. Wanted to see how it all starts, how it ends and everything in between.  He wanted to know why they always targeted you.  It wasn’t fair, someone living in such pacifist way shouldn’t be ganged up on for her beliefs and opinions.  So what if you didn’t like how tainted humans are?  Wonho couldn’t understand, even if he tried, he was a Demon after all.  

The walk was silent.  Only the sound of the shuffled footsteps of you both mixing in the night air.  It was chilly, but not uncomfortable. Wonho stood in front of your door of your apartment as you grabbed your key you keep around your neck, tucked under your shirt and unlocked it, opening the door just to crack it and took your key back out.  

“Thank you for walking me, I guess.”  He shrugged as he smiled down at you.  You stepped inside and turned around to see him off.  He waved a goodnight as he turned and before he was out of sight, you called to him.  “Why did you walk me home?” He stopped, and turned over his shoulder, shrugging once again. 

“I already told you.  Because I can.”  And then he jogged off, texting you 20 minutes later that he made it back without any trouble.  It was odd, having the roles reversed when he was the one texting you about his safety.  Yet, it made that flare in your chest rise again, the same flare you know you need to snuff out.  But, just once, you allowed yourself to feel pleased and smiled down at your phone screen as you two had your normal night time conversation. 

🌙🌙🌙

It continued in this new routine for the next week.  It would be normal and at the end of the day, Wonho would be there to walk you home late at night and then be the one to text you when he got back.  You never really worried too much, as he was a demon and more than capable of defending himself.  He’s stated many times that he has no problems with fucking up a human if they started something with him.  

It was the start of the second week after Wonho started do this that you got up and, as per usual, got dressed and ready to head off for another grueling day of classes.  

All day, Wonho was growing restless.  You hadn’t contacted him all day and it was already close to 1 in the afternoon now.  Normally, this shouldn’t be something to be concerned about, but for some reason it had the hairs on the back of his neck standing.  It was like there was so much static in the air, if someone clicked their fingers, a fire would start.  He was tense, and he didn’t know why.  The fact that you hadn’t sent him any replies to his numerous calls wasn’t helping. 

It was 3 when he finally was getting a call from you. He rushed in picking it up, immediately asking why you hadn’t contacted him all day.  Instead, you told him to meet you somewhere.  You had sent coordinates and a map with a location, but it was secluded.  

“What?  Where are you? Are you lost or something?” 

“No-no I just, I’m-”  Your breathing was rushed, and jagged.  Almost like you were scared, or had just finished running a marathon.  “Please, can you just get here? I don’t know what to do.  They keep looking for me, Wonho.”  He moved from laying in his bed to sitting up at your words.  

“Who? Who’s looking for you?” 

“Please, just hurry.” He was out of bed and slipping on his shoes in seconds as he rushed down the stairs.  

“Y/N, you need to tell me what’s going-” he stopped short when he was passing the TV screen that Shownu had put on, mainly for background noise as he worked on something in a book.  Scribbling down this and that.  The city was looking for a Wanted individual.  They were looking to arrest them for charges of violence towards humans and treason against their race.  The news anchor described the person before their picture popped up on the screen. 

It was you.  

You were Wanted by the police and the whole city was out for blood, our for you.  They were just going to arrest you, just like that?  No evidence, nothing?  You were only violent in self defense, the charges are entirely false! He was snapped out of his daze when he heard you curse under your breath and the call dropped.  

“Y/N? Y/N!” He pulled up a screen that showed your in-time location you sent and the blue dot that moved across the virtual map was you, and it was on the move.  You were taking back ally ways and moving in spastic directions.  “Send message to Y/N,” he spoke into his voice commands as he ran out of the house, Shownu calling after him, wanting to know what all of this was about.  “Go to the Temple.  Hide around there until I can come.”  

You received his message as you made your way to the Temple as best as you could.  Taking every back ally or hidden passage way you knew or found, you eventually managed to come to the front of the Temple.  A blessed place, and surprisingly not very populated.  You did as Wonho told you, hiding yourself between crates and covering them with a torn, fabric that was close to the Temple walls.  

You were never one to back down from a fight, but this was too much.  You had no chance if you were to go against the masses.  Person upon person, trained fighters, middle aged men and women equipped for combat.  You had no chance.  You had to hide. As much as it bruised your ego, running kept you alive for the time being. kept you free and safe.  

You soon heard shuffling of feet not too far from you.  Peeking out of one of the tattered holes in the fabric draped over you and the crates, you saw Wonho, looking around, out of breath.  You tore the fabric off and ran to him, the noise you made catching his attention.  

He ran to you, meeting you half way as you ran into his chest.  He held your head to him and sighed.  They hadn’t found you yet.  He wasn’t too late.  He looked up to the Temple as he held you and felt you shake.  Fear wasn’t a thing that was easy to coax out of you, but here you were, literally trembling in his arms.  He sneered up at the Temple, up at the Heavens. 

What kinds of Gods decide to bless such a tainted race. You didn’t deserve anything you were feeling.  Not the fear, the anger, the hate.  Nothing.  He loathed the heavens for deciding to fill your life with nothing but hardships. He cursed the Gods to the very core of his Demon heart.  

“Y/N, you need to come back with me.  We need to get back home so we can figure out how to keep you safe.” You shook you head. 

“No, no way.  I’m not gonna drag you all into this.  I shouldn’t have called you, but I just- I panicked and now-” He hushed you as he tightened his grip on you and turned his body, taking steps backwards.  “Wonho?” You looked up at his face, he was sneering.  Glare harsh and teeth bared, it was like he was threatening someone.  And threatening he was.  

Humans started gathering at the Temple, most likely to pray for the wicked soul of the treacherous human.  First one person, then three, then ten, the numbers stacking up relentlessly until a mob was at the Temple gates, watching as the face of the human girl on TV was in front of them, being held by a Demon.  Probably not the most insightful position they could’ve found you, a deemed traitor, in. 

“She’s there!” 

“Standing before the Gods with a Demon!” 

“Treacherous monster!  You’re no better than a Demon in the end!”

Wonho growled as he pulled you from his chest, only for you to stand behind him.  Wonho faced off with the crowd of people, backing up as much as he could.  It made him nauseous, being this close to the Temple.  He knew he couldn’t enter it, and the area was wide and open.  If he wanted an escape plan, he’d have to think fast.  

You stood behind him, watching as he glared at your race that were seeing you as enemy #1.  You watched his jaw move up and down, and his shoulders tense, he was clearly shouting at them, screaming at them, but you couldn’t hear him.  Your heartbeat thrumming to intensely into your ears. But, you did hear something.  

Someone was calling you.  It seemed to distract you, and it was calling you from behind your back.  The voice had made you forget where you were, why you were here in the first place.  All you heard was that pleading voice of your name, calling and calling for you.  And so, you did the most human thing and decided to chase the voice.  

Running straight into the Temple. 

Wonho had been so busy trying to keep the humans away from you that he didn’t feel the absence of your presence until some random man pointed out that you were gone.  Wonho whipped himself around, and indeed, you were gone.  Where had you gone?  You couldn’t have run around him and you obviously didn’t charge into the mob of threatening savages.  

“Did she...” his voice was a whisper as the Temple began to change.  Blinding, white bars closed off the entrance to the Temple, permitting no one’s entrance.  He had only seen this happen when there are Blessed Children inside, as it’s a rule that only one pure body be allowed trespass inside at a time.  

You had ran inside the Temple, and you were someone, some random human blessed by some random God.  You who loathed them, were blessed by them.  You who loved a Demon, would only come back out of that Temple as a child of a God.  

🌙🌙🌙

You ran blindly.  Chasing that voice that seemed so familiar to you, yet you hadn’t heard a day in your life.  It made you curious and it wasn’t until you felt a sudden wave of heavy fatigue fall on your shoulders that you stopped and nearly buckled to your knees.  

Your chest felt unbelievably heavy and it was like you were swallowing tar instead of air.  Your throat closed up and your eyes watered.  It felt like you hadn’t drank water in days. Your body shook and you felt sweat gather at the base of your neck.  

You kept hearing that voice though.  Calling and calling and calling.  You had to keep moving.  You had to find the owner of that voice.  You had to.  You ran once again for a bit longer before your knees actually buckled this time and you fell.  Knees hitting the marbled floor as you slid to a stop, skin raw from the impact and more than likely ready to bruise in an hour or so.  

Maybe it’s a good thing you fell, because with some sense knocked into you, you finally realized that you were in a building of some type.  You looked around, eyes hazy and blurred. Murals painted on the highest points of the ceilings, pillars of spec less satin white, marble floors that one could see their reflection in.  You thought you heard the sound of a fountain around you, but didn’t see one.  

Just where in the world had you mindlessly ran off to?  You tried to pick yourself off the floor, but it felt like your ankles had iron balls strapped onto them.  Heavy, you felt so heavy.  You pulled yourself on the floor, reaching a pillar to pry yourself up with and support your body before you pushed off it.  You crushed your eyes together as you bit your cheek and ran as far as you could before you ran into something. 

Bouncing off the hard object you fell onto your back as you groaned.  There was no way you were going to be able to get yourself up a third time.  You felt like the weight of an elephant was stepping on you as your thoughts grew foggy and a headache grew around your head, pounding into your temples. 

You turned onto your stomach and pried open your eyes only to jumped back at the sight of a single, bright pillar. It blazed brightly, almost like it was on fire, a pure white fire. It reached into a single point in the domed ceiling and flared around like it was alive.  You were once against startled when you felt something around you neck.  

Looking down, a chain began to form around your neck, and a pendant formed at the end of it before it solidified and rested against your chest.  You flipped onto your side, one arm supporting you up and the other tugging on the chain.  Where did this come from, and why is it on you? Why can’t you take it off? 

“Who would you like to see?”  The sudden voice of an older man scared you, making you jump and roll onto your back, both arms behind you to lift you up and look at him.  He was older, wearing clothing that didn’t seem right, almost like he was auditioning for a role in a play and he wanted to play the part of a God.  

...God.

“Who would you like to see?” He questioned again, voice calm.  He was the voice.  He was calling you in here the entire time. 

“Wh-what?” Your voice squeaked, the feeling of your closed throat making it feel parched.  

“Our 20 Gate Child has finally appeared.  Who would you like to see?”  

“Anyone?” 

“Anyone.”  

“Then....” You wanted to see him.  He was the first person to pop into your head, but that would be a lie.  Saying he was the first person you thought of implies you aren’t always thinking about him, and you always, always were.  Your hazy state makes you stupidly accept and realize all the things you’ve pushed down over and over again just because he was a Demon.  

But now, what happens.  You love him.  But now you’re someone he hates, something he hates.  You can’t possibly call for him, can you?  What right do you have to do so, but regardless of your mind, your mouth makes your decision. 

“Hoseok. I want to see.. Hoseok.” The weight of the world felt like it crashed into your skull as your eyes rolled back and you fell onto your back, your arms collapsing.  The old man simply sighed as he looked at the light of the pillar.  

The shouts and screams of the outside were silenced the moment that old man appeared outside the Temple gates out of nowhere, gates that were still very much closed and locked.  He looked around the masses before he looked to the Demon boy.  

“Hoseok, I pressume?”  Wonho stiffened.  Not everyone knew he real name. 

“Who’s asking?” 

“The young lady inside wanted to see you.”  He straightened out at the mention of you. 

“Y/N.  Is she alright?  Where is she, how many gates did she pass?” 

“The young lady made it to the center of the Temple.” He gasps lightly as he took a small step back.  The center?  You were.. “She requested for you.  It will be the first time a Demon is allowed passage into the Temple.  I can’t say I agree with her, but it is her wish, so it is my job to obey.” Wonho only nodded.  He wanted to get to you, get you out, make sure you’re okay.  

The man walked towards Wonho and touched his wrist, latching onto it and before he knew it, he was standing inside a domed over area with a blinding pillar of fiery light.  Then, he saw you, unconscious and exhausted on the floor in front of that pillar.  He scrambled to get to you, lifting your head and making sure you had no injuries he had to tend to.  You were fine, other than the red, raw skin of your knees.  

He lay your head back down and moved to examine your knees.  They weren’t horrible, and with two small pecs of his lips to your skin, they healed up in no time.  The old man watched the skin heal itself as Wonho moved back to cradle you, lifting you up to his chest to where if you were awake, you could clearly here his increased, panicked heartbeat. 

“So, you can heal others. Quite a unique trait for a Demon to possess.”  

“What did you do to her?”  He sneered. 

“I’ve done nothing, simply passing her gates proved to be rather exhausting for her.” Wonho noticed the necklace around your neck and examined the pendant. Not a moment after he touched it, he felt a warmth on his chest. It felt strange, like he had made a connection with something, someone.  He couldn’t put the sensation into words. 

He pulled at the few top buttons of his shirt as he looked to see what had happened, if anything happened, to his chest and something did.  A tattoo appeared on his chest, but it wasn’t painful and the shape of it resembled an identical copy of your necklace.  

“The first Demon to ever enter this sacred palace, and now our Prophet has chosen to Mark a demon as well.” Wonho looked at the old man, then to your unconscious face, scrunched up in unfamiliarity.  You didn’t seem like you were resting pleasantly.  

You marked him?  Why him? He had heard once that the possessor of a Blessing of the Gods can choose any one person as their Marked One, but it must be someone of close relation and strong bond.  Wonho was indeed your best friend, and he cared about you more than you probably realized, but is this really what you wanted? Or was it an unconscious action out of pure desperation and fear?

“She Marked me?” 

“You were the first person she called out for when she felt like she was on the verge of collapse.  It’s quite safe to say that the young ladies decision was not on a whim, but out of admiration. Fondness.” Wonho pushed your hair out of your face as he rubbed at the back of you neck, wanting that unconformable look on your face to go away.  

“I want to take her back home.”  He looked at the old man.  “The humans, will they try and take her from me if I take her out of the Temple?” The old man shook his head.  

“I will see to it that you may take her to rest in peace.” Wonho didn’t have grounds to believe his words, but that’s all he had in this moment.  With you needing desperate relocation for proper rest and all the questions he has in his head he wanted to talk to you about, he needed to get back home.  He moved and lifted you up, tucking you around his chest as he stood.  

At least your body was still warm. 

“Simply walk out,” the old man pointed in a direction.  “The gates will open and the humans will pay you no mind.” Wonho nodded. 

“Thank you.”  Then he started out.  As the old man said, the gates practically vanished as he approached them and the humans didn’t even seem to notice he was there.  A white sheet of mist clouded around the two of you, and he supposed it acted as a shield of sort, masking your presence as he took you back home.    

To his home, with him where you’ll be safe. 

🌙🌙🌙 

It was strange, passing out in a temple and then waking up here, in the room you’ve been in so many times before.  The room where you’d be dragged off and scolded for fighting.  Waking up in Wonho’s room, for the first time since you’ve known him, was strange.  You couldn’t remember too much right after opening your eyes.  Your head pounded with the world’s worst headache, but you did recognize the foreign feeling of something around your neck.  A necklace, a cold, gold chained necklace with a pendant of a symbol of an ancient star that rested just between your clavicles.  

You got this necklace when you saw that pillar of light and when that man spoke to you.  You remember feeling weak, exhausted and tired.  He asked you who you wanted to see, who you wanted to get you out of there.  The first person on your mind was Wonho, but you had no idea why he was asking you who you wanted to see.  The moment you answered him though, fatigue took every ounce of your strength and you fell to the ground.  Then, the next moment, you felt warmth before everything was cold and lost.  

Now, you were here, laying in Wonho’s bed.  Where was he?  Did he bring you back here? Who took you out of the Temple? And why, why did you have a necklace on that felt so warm and so heavy, yet at the same time, was cold and as light as a feather.  The chain had no clasp to remove it, and it was far too small to slip over your head.  You tried yanking on it, pulling so that it may snap, but it was solid.  The necklace was practically bound to you now.  You knew that one who entered the temple was suppose to be deemed a Blessed Child, but you?  

You who hated mankind, you who despised the segregation between humans and demons, you who were bullied and beaten for preferring the latter over your own birth race.  You.  Someone who fell in love with a Demon and who would prefer to give her humanity and life up to keep him safe was Blessed?  You’ve never heard a bigger joke, and you constantly thought it was a joke.  Someone must’ve planned this, right?

You were brought out of your thoughts when someone knocked at the door, and within a few seconds later without a response from you, someone came in.  You let out a breath when you saw Wonho’s black hair peek in the room.  You didn’t know why you were on edge, but for some reason, you thought someone else would come inside. You thought you were going to have to see that stupid old man from the temple again and he was gonna drag you away, or tell you you were part of some elaborate plan to degrade you even more than humanity has. 

It was unusual for Wonho to knock thinking about it.  I mean, it was his room.  Why would he have to knock, and his timing was spot on, coming in and looking at you like he knew you were awake.

“You’ve been sleeping for a while.”  He came and dragged his desk chair over to the side of the bed, opting to sit next to you like that.  

“How’d you know I was awake?”  

“I heard you chain rattling,” he pointed to your necklace with your pendant on it.  You touched it lightly, and Wonho could read the look in your eyes.  Your confusion was painted all over your face.  “You don’t remember anything that happened at the Temple, do you?” You shook your head.  

“It’s all spotty.  I can’t really rely on my memories right now, especially with this thing.”  You flicked the pendant.  “What is it anyways?”

“You were Blessed, you should remember that much. You entered the Temple, that should be proof enough, wouldn’t you think?”

“Oh, no no no.  I’m no Blessed Child.  I can’t stand my own race, how then can I be Blessed by any God.” You scoffed at yourself.  Wonho wouldn’t lie to you, but you didn’t want to believe it.  You would be forced to leave if you were Blessed.  Leave your friends, your home.  Leave him.  

“Y/N-”

“No.  I’m not Blessed.  I’m not, okay?”

“Y/N. You went through all 20 gates.  You made it to the fucking center.  You literally can’t deny it.”

“I’m not Blessed!  I’m not, because if I was then some stupid government goons will march in here, take me to some stupid rich kid territory and I’d never see any of you again!” He knew you weren’t handling this well, and he expected as much, but he needs to get a clear explanation across to you.  He needs to tell you what you are, and the power you have over the people.  And the power you now hold over him.

“If that were the case, you’d be gone already! They wouldn’t have let me take you back here, back to my home, if they wanted to drag you anywhere else.”  That was true.  They would’ve pried you out of his hands if they wanted to relocate you.  But, how did he even get you here? He couldn’t get to you in the Temple.  Did that old man carry you out, because that seemed unlikely.

“How did.. just how did you get me here?”

“I carried you out of the Temple.”

“Okay, now I know your lying.  Demon’s can’t enter the Temple, you know that.  The holiness of the place physically makes you sick.  You can’t even stand being near it!” You stopped to catch your heavy breath before you kept going, more ideas and concerns coming into your head.  “Besides, suppose you did carry me out like you said, there’s no way they would listen to you!  They’d just refuse anything you had to say and wave you off because you’re not human!”  

“They had no choice. They didn’t know I was there to begin with.”  

“What does that even mean-” Wonho cut you off by starting to unbutton the top buttons of his black shirt.  Why the hell was this asshole starting to strip when you were in a constant state of confusion and peril?!  You were about to chew him out, yell at him for being inconsiderate when he pulled open his shirt just enough to show you a mark on the left side of his chest.  A tattoo, no larger than your palm, all in black.  And it looked exactly like your pendant that hung around your neck.

“Do you remember calling me? Y/N, you Marked me. Since your word as the Blessed Child who passed through all the gates of that stupid Temple is absolute without question, so is mine.”  You.. you Marked him? That doesn’t make sense. No, you couldn’t have.  He’s a Demon.  Surely a Demon with a mark of a Blessed being would die, or at least be in some sort of pain. Was he okay, was he in pain from that Mark? Oh God, did you… were you really?

“I,” you just looked at his marking.  It was really there. “I really am.. Blessed?” He nodded.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know how you got Marked, I guess it’s because I said your name.”  He looked at you.  He didn’t know how this  completely happened either.  That old man barely explained anything.  “When I first got to the pillar, I was tired.  Someone, an old man, asked me who the person I wanted to see the most was.  And I just said your name and then-”  You couldn’t remember after that.  

You realize he must be angry with you.  Sure, he’s talking to you, but his approach was off.  He was rigid, almost like he was being forced into something and he sat in a chair next to you, not plopped on the bed with you like he normally would be.  He was distancing himself.  He must be angry, frustrated that he was next to a child of God, on top of which being Mark but that child.  There must be a way to change it.  If you could take your Mark away from him and maybe put it on someone else, someone willing to be a Marked One of you, maybe he’d go back to the way he was before.  

“I’m sorry, I’ll remove it.”  Wonho looked at your lowered gaze, still staring at his chest.  

“Remove what?”

“The Mark.  I’m sure there’s a way to remove it and change it from you to someone else.  If I'm as powerful as they say, then I should have that power, right?”  He quickly started to cover the Mark up from you as soon as you reached forward to touch it, hoping that maybe it would smear right off him if you wished hard enough.  “What are you doing?  Let me see it.”

“No. I want to keep it there.”  You were flabbergasted.  What is he going on about?

“What?  No you don’t.  You hate Blessed Children, just like I do, or did I guess? Wonho, if you don’t let me take that off, you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of my life.  Until I rot away and keel over, you’ll be dragged around wherever I go.  I’m not gonna keep you on a leash just because I want you.” His breath hitched at your words as well as your tone of solid voice.  It was the tone when you meant something, and were 100% truthful.  “Now, let me see it.”  He shook his head again as you tried to pull his shirt and look at the mark.

“Stop it!”  He grabbed your wrist and held it away from him.  “I don’t want you to get rid of it!  Leave it there!” He felt you still fighting against him, pushing against his grip, still trying to grab a hold of his shirt.  Still trying to fight him.  Still trying to erase that mark you unconsciously made on him.  He acted without thinking and before he or you could process it, he had both of your wrists in his grasp and was suddenly hovering over you, pinning you into the mattress.  

His palms held your wrists on either side of your head, one of his knees braced on the edge of the mattress while his other leg was still straightened out, foot on the ground.  Your knees had risen up, feet flat against the mattress as they slightly leaned against his hovering waist.  This was strange of him, he never acted on impulse like this before.  He had always, always held himself back.  Always making himself think rationally and putting your well being in the forefront of his mind, pushing his selfish actions aside.  

But now, with your hair fanned out under you, your stress heavy eyes, the guilt that swirled in them and the confusion. All of the cloudy, heavy confusion that blocked the vivid color of your bright eyes changed something in him.  The mark you put on his chest made him feel something.  Feel you.  He could feel your suffering, your pain, your past and if he really concentrated he was sure he could feel your future.  It was all running in his veins; you were running in his veins.  So rampant, so wild, so unstoppable.

“Wonho, what are you doing.  Get off me.”  Your voice was stern.  He watched as your eyes shook, dilating back and forth in pure, thick emotion.  He looked at your wrists trapped in his steel like grip, and he focused every ounce of energy to feel how your pulse quickened under him.  He could hear you try and steady your breath and he could practically hear your heartbeat with each unsteady breath that left your lips.  

Lips.  Your lips were dry, chapped from the lack of moisture you would supply them.  You were sleeping so long, so heavily and so exhausted that your body couldn’t swipe your tongue over them to keep them shining and wet.  He’d never taken the time to notice without being discreet, but now he could stare at them all he wanted.  And he wanted nothing more than to kiss them right now.

You watched him, trying to analyse him and what he was doing.  He never acted rash with you, never said anything too bluntly and always tried to find some filter with you.  He’d only touch you when you would deem it okay and it’d always be playful.  Something like this wasn’t something you’d see him do, let alone to you.  It sent you into overdrive, making you hyper aware of everything around you.  Maybe it was the stupid blessing kicking into your brain, maybe it was the ‘Will of the Gods’ making you see things you’d normally overlook.  

His eyes scanning your face, then bounced over your body.  From wrists, to neck to lips and then back to the eyes.  You would feel him loosen his grip on you ever so slightly, just to tighten up again, almost like he was fighting with himself over something.  You felt the bed dip more when he put more pressure onto his braced knee beside you.  You’d watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat each time he closed his mouth to swallow air, just to reopen it.  Just what was running through his head?

“Wonho?”  Stern obviously wasn’t working, but maybe questioning him would do something.  His gaze snapped up to you, the tone of your voice doing the complete opposite effect you planned.  You wanted to gain his attention, that you did, but you wanted to calm him.  Get answers.  Instead, he was becoming more and more irrational.  Then, with the worried look in your eyes and the slight crease in your brows, something in him broke.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.  You expected him to heave himself off you, but he didn’t.  He got lower to you, closer. You pushed yourself back into the mattress by instinct as his nose brushed yours.  Speechless is what you were.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated as he took one more look into your eyes before he kissed you.  It left you shocked and frozen before he pulled away from you. He didn’t move far, just enough to detach his lips from yours.  

You felt his breath hit your face as he stared into your eyes, just like earlier.  They were glazed over, darkened with a spec of light that seemed to be diminishing by the second.  He wasted no time in lowering himself to kiss you a second time before you could open your mouth.  He was scared, scared you’d push him away, reject him if his mouth wasn’t covering yours.  But, fear wasn’t the only thing driving him.  He was desperate.  His desperation to be with you, to stay with you and to make sure you don’t wipe him away kept him here, hovered over you.

You were the long awaited savior of the humans.  The new Messiah.  Their Blessed Child of the Gods who was suppose to banish all Demons, fix the humans and rebuild the world.  He knew you, he knew you didn’t want to, but what if you did anyways? What if you pushed him away?  What if you decided to lock him and his race back down into the cold world beneath the Earth that is Hell?  What would he do then?  He’d sooner rip out his stomach, then see you turn him away just because of some stupid prophet’s words decades ago.

No God will keep him from you.  Not even you yourself.  Not anymore.  

He pulled away from you once again, but didn’t hover above your face like last time and instead traveled down your neck.  Brushing his nose against your jaw and dragging his lips over your skin, drying them out only for him to swipe his tongue over them.  He felt your body unconsciously arch towards him, felt your hands ball into fists as your wrists tensed in his grip.  He listened to your breath hitch and heard your small whines you tried to bite back.  

Perhaps this was wrong, doing what he was doing.  No, he knew this was wrong.  He hadn’t said anything to you, and this was surely shocking to you, maybe even beyond so, but he couldn’t stop.  You were an addiction, one he didn’t want to stop.  He wanted to hear you whine, and moan and he wanted to feel even more of you.

“Tell me to stop,” he bit at your neck, making you wince.  He spoke to you, but he didn’t stop anything as he did so.  “Tell me to stop, push me away, scream at me, I don’t care.  Unless you do something, anything, I won’t stop.”  He looked at the red teeth markings on your neck, swiped his tongue over it and watched as his healing effect lifted and made them disappear, only for him to bite down again.  “I won’t stop, Y/N.” He looked up to you, meeting your gaze one final time.  “Please… please don’t make me stop.”

“How-how long have you-?” That was all you could whisper out.  He was acting like he’d dreamt of doing this.  Having you pinned under him as he licked at your skin, and not to just heal your wounds from fighting.  

“So long. You have no idea.  Please.”  He pushed his forehead against your chest and bit at his lip before looking back at you.  It was torture keeping eye contact with you, let alone like this.  He needed an answer, something to tie him down.  Then you opened your mouth and gave him one after what seemed to be a time span of years.

“I won’t stop you,” your voice barely a whisper. He wanted to make sure you meant it, make sure you truly weren’t going to push him away and run, but the only thing his mouth could do is latch back onto your skin. He let go of your wrists to pull his shirt off his shoulders, trusting you enough to not bring your hands back to his chest.  He meant it every time he said that he hated the humans, hated the Blessed Children and their followers, but it wasn’t because as a demon he was pushed away.  It was because you, a human among other humans, was hurt because of your choice.  He hated them for their actions towards you, not towards him.

But, now you were suddenly forced into a position you didn’t want, and had no choice in the matter, he wanted to be with you.  He was scared when you entered the temple.  He thought he’d never see you again, just like you thought you wouldn’t see him.  You both thought you’d be dragged off in uncross-able paths, but instead you called for him.  Out of everyone, anyone, you called for him- wanted him.  And he wanted you too.  

Once his shirt slid off his shoulders, he quickly placed his large hands on you waist, slithering them under your shirt to rub circles into your skin with his thumbs.  You sighed at the pleasant pressure as he slid his hands up your torso to removed your shirt entirely, tossing it away from you onto the floor.  With more skin being revealed to him, he could see small scars from your particularly nasty fights in the past.  He growled at the sight of them.

The only thing good he could think of right now about your sudden possession of power is that now should anyone dare to raise a hand to you, they’d have to answer to the masses, most notably to him.  He buried his face in your chest, biting at you, making your back arch just enough to where he could slip your shorts down past your hips.

He chuckled as he listened to the rapid beat your heart produced in your chest.  He only dreamt of being this close to you.  He almost didn’t believe it was happening.  He reached behind you to hook his arms under your back and sit you up.  He lifted you to where you sat, straddling his waist in nothing but your undergarments.

He chuckled again at your flushed cheeks and darting gaze, a gaze that was unfocused and not sure where to keep their sights.  You’d seen Wonho shirtless countless times before, he was comfortable with his body after all.  But, the situation at hand made it seem like the first true time you’ve ever seen him bareback.  He massaged your hips, rolling you against himself as he tucked his lower lips between his teeth.

He felt your hands fumbled with his jeans button and zip before you were trying to remove them. He licked at your neck and moved his hands behind your upper back to unhook your bra, making it fall to his lap between the two of you.  

“You are beautiful,” he all but whispered as he ran his lips from your throat to your chest, kissing your breasts with as much ease as he could, making you mewl. You pushed your covered center against his, making his teeth trap a stiff nipple and roll his tongue over it, making your arch further into him.  Just a little more an it’ll be all he’s ever wanted for as long as he can remember. 

One of his hands slid down between both of your bodies and began pushing a pleasant amount of pressure against your sex.  He watched you bite your lip and whine as he pushed aside your panties and teased your wet folds.  He thought your lip would bleed between your teeth and part of him wished it would, just so he could lick your lips and make the injury disappear.

“You’re teasing…” You sighed as he smirked.

“I want to take my time.”

“That’s a first,” he smiled to you as you joked with him.  Even in this intimate moment you were still comfortable with him.

“Don’t stop yourself,” he said.  Before you could ask him what he meant, you were gasping, reeling and clutching at his shoulders as you braced yourself, for he had pushed a finger into your slick cunt.  You pushed your hips down against him, his palm cupping around your clit almost too perfectly.  Wonho kept his gaze down, watching his finger disappear ever so slowly in and out of you.  You curled your own hand around his wrist and he panicked, thinking you wanted him to stop.

“More.” The tension in his shoulders slackened as he obeyed.  Perhaps he should save all the teasing for another day.  The grinding of your hips faltered as a second one of his fingers joined the first to abuse you.  Sighs, whines and low moans let him know that you wouldn’t last much longer with his fingers.  He quickly pulled them from you, hearing you whine and watched as your body slacked at the lack of anything filling you.

“Are you going to make a woman wait all night?” You questioned, breathless, as you tugged on his unbuttons jeans.  He chuckled at your impatience and kissed you, lifted you off his lap to lay you on your back against the mattress in front of him.  

“I would never.”  He shimmied your panties off you, leaving you completely bare and shameless for his lust blown eyes.  He ran his hand over your sides, chest, neck, stomach and thighs, taking in how soft you were. How warm. In the dim room lighting, Wonho could see the glisten of your arousal between your thighs.

He snickered when you tried pushing his loose pants off his waist with your feet. He aided your sad excuse of trying to strip him, and along with the removal of his jeans, his boxers disappeared also.  Tossing them aside, he took no time in crawling over your body.  He kissed at your forehead, nose and cheeks before he captured your lips again.  

“Ready?” He asked as you sighed from feeling him slick his cock with your fluids that had already leaked out of your core.  You nodded, desperate at this point.  Part of him was suddenly nervous because he knew you’ve never done anything like this before.  It was really no surprised you were a virgin.  What if he hurt you too much?

“Hoseok,” his attention was immediately yours at the use of his real name coming from you.  “I’ll be fine, I promise.” That was all the confirmation he needed before he began to ease himself inch by inch into you.  

It hurt.

That was a dead giveaway.  Once he was pushed in, he held his heavy breath.  He kissed at your face, wanting your pain to stop so you can experience the same pleasure he was.  You were so warm, so tight, he thought he was losing his mind just sitting rock hard, inside you.

He didn’t know how much time passed with him buried and motionless inside you, but the feeling of you rolling your hips up against his gave him the green light to move.  Slowly, he left the deep warmth of you, just to roll right back in.  He had half a mind to fuck you into the mattress, but he had to control himself.  That last thing he wanted was for you to be in pain, he wanted to make a good impression for your first time, not act like an animal.

It wasn’t long before you were urging him to move faster.  Your hands tangling in his hair as he braced his arms on either side of your head.  Hips snapping against your as your mouth hung open, sounds from groans, to moans and whines pouring out of them like a broke water faucet that was running non-stop. 

The unfamiliar feeling of something twisting and building up more and more with pressure in your gut grew stronger with each strengthening thrust of Wonho’s cock.  He could feel when the strings in your lower body were ready to snap and he only urged you towards complete destruction.  His thrusts were ruthless as you were whip-lashed over the edge of your orgasm, body shaking and it wasn’t long before Wonho was pulling out of you, onlyto  jerk himself to the point he came to his high, painting your stomach white.  

He was quick to hop up and grab a towel that he had thrown in his hamper to clean off your stomach, still slightly damp from the last time he showered and dried his hair, making it easier to clean you. You lay completely still as he cleaned you and soon he was sliding one of his shirts over your exhausted body as he slipped on sweats and tucked you both under his covers.  Though you had just woken up, you had a pretty vigorous work-out, so it wasn’t a surprise you were tired all over again.

It was when you were finally able to catch your breath that you saw the mark on his chest again.  You had completely overlooked it until now.  Wonho noticed you looking at it and narrowed his eyes, ready to fight back against you again if you still wanted to take it off him.  He didn’t want you to, he wouldn’t let you.  No matter what, he was going to keep that mark on him.

“Keep me.”  His sudden declaration took you by surprise.  Keep him?

“What?”

“Keep me as your Marked One.  Please.  I don’t want to leave you.”  He looped his finger around the chain that was going to be around your neck for the rest of your life and untucked the pendant from under the shirt you wore.  He moved the metal in his palm before he moved to kiss the pendant and rest his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around your stomach.  “I love you, okay? So, just keep me.”

Your fingers carded through his messy hair as you nodded.  

“Alright.  I’ll let you stay.  But, don’t you go thinking you’re on a leash.  If ever the day comes you want to leave me, you tell me and I’ll let you go without fuss.”  He lifted his head and quickly placed a kiss on your lips, wanting you to stop talking about him leaving you one day.  What utter nonsense.  Him leaving? That was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“I’m never going to leave.  So, you’ll never have to let me go.”  You smiled at him as he placed his head back on your chest.  He wanted to listen to your heartbeat. He felt you kiss the top of his head, smiling as you rubbed the back of his neck, played with his hair and rubbed his back.  This was all he wanted.  This intimacy with you, and no one else but you.  For so long, he waited and waited and finally he got it.  

“I love you too,” you whispered against his scalp as you kissed it once again.  He smiled, you could feel his cheeks pushing upwards against your chest as you both started to drift off.  For the first time, Wonho was finally able to fall asleep with the sound of your heartbeat under his ear as his lullaby.

🌙🌙🌙 

After that day, everything was so much different. 

The morning you woke up with Wonho on your chest was the same day that officials of the government came to take you back, finally tracking you down.  You had refused to separate from Wonho, or any of the other boys for that matter.  You had explained everything to the others, about you, about Wonho, and about the Temple.  

With enough argument, it was decided that you finally wanted better for your friends, for your lover and for yourself.  You had agreed to move wherever the government decided best for you, but with the exception that all 7 of the boys come with you.  You would not let them go, not when they’ve been with you for as long as you could remember. 

After a week of moving, adjustment of power and finally not being enemy #1, it was getting easier.  You had made a public announcement arranged by the largest viewed broadcasting station.  You explained that you had passed all the gates of the Temple and had your necklace as proof.  Further, you explained that you did have a Marked One chosen, and unless you decided against it, his word would be absolute.  You were the only other person capable of overruling his decisions. 

Furthermore, you had explained that the so called Prophecy of the Gods would be rewritten by you.  You wouldn’t cast away with the Demons, but offer them a choice.  You would close the gates of Hell, just as it said, but you would offer every Demon a chance to stay on Earth until they die.  They could stay and life as a Demon on Earth until the Demons all went extinct, or they could travel back to Hell before you shut it’s doors for good.  As for the Temple, you decided to keep it up.  

You planned to opening the Temple to the public, rearranging it’s foretold components and making it a sacred place of prayer of those who seek help.  It was a lot of work, but you were tired of seeing so much hate and profanities painted on the walls of the Earth.  

Wonho had chosen whole heartily to stay by your side, living as a Demon until his life snuffs out, as did the other 7 boys.  More Demons came to you wishing to stay on Earth, more than you expected with the harsh rulings over them for decades.  You created ‘safe places’ for Demons to traverse among Humans without worry of fear of an attack or a brawl breaking out.  

Many months passed, and you had been finally settled into a larger home on the outskirts of the city.  It was woodland area, quiet and open.  Just what you wanted for you and the boys.  They had practically clung to your arms and legs to let them life with you, you couldn’t exactly say no to them.  You were sitting on the bay window of your attic, staring outside and watching at the rain fell in the mid-afternoon. 

With all your plans in action, being a working progress, and the gates of Hell officially sealed and the Temple allowing more than just Blessed Children inside, you had time to think.  

Once all the Demons died on Earth, then it would be a completely human populous again, so maybe some future generations would learn not to meddle in thing they don’t understand, or not to attack each other.  But, then what?  

You hear the creaking of the trap door in the floor slid open as Wonho popped his head into the attic, seeing you in your bay window.  You had a habit of coming up here to think.  He pulled himself into the attic as he slid the trap door shut again and walked to your side, leaned down to kiss your cheek and rubbed at your shoulders, standing beside you. 

“What are you thinking about today, love?” You sighed as you leaned your head back against his chest.  He looped his hand from your shoulder to your chest to fiddle with your necklace, a habit he’s developed from somewhere recently. 

“Do you know what happens to Demons that die?” Wonho sighed in thought as he looked outside, watching the sky’s tears hit the glass and dribble down to the wooden window pane outside. 

“Many say they are reincarnated as the species they die among.” 

“So, when all the Demons on Earth die?” 

“I suppose they’d reincarnate as humans somewhere along the line.”  You sighed as you leaned further into him.  

“Do you believe you’ll be reincarnated?”  He shrugged.  Who knew. 

“If I am, I hope I can find you again.” 

“Who said I will be?” 

“The soul never truly dies, it just get’s recycled and tossed around as it shifts from body to body over time.  I’m sure that a soul of the Gods isn’t one they’ll let go of so easily.  You’ll be back, even if you die.” 

You chuckled.  He made a point, the Gods wouldn’t put the Blessed Children here on the ground just to life a short life and then dissipate into the galaxy.  But, that raised so many more questions.  Would you remember your past, would you always be pulled towards the same love over and over again like a genetic magnet in your DNA? Nothing was made clear. 

Wonho chuckled as he pinched as your neck, making you yelp and slap his arm.  He lifted you up as he moved to sit on the bay window, you on his lap as he held you and watched the rain.  

“Don’t worry about the future.  We’ll find each other again, it’s a soul thing.”  You chuckled and finally let the conversation die until another time. 

🌙🌙🌙

The year 2067 was the year you died, your body growing frail with sickness and landing you a very early death.  Another 5 years later, Wonho followed you, finally succumbing to his heartache of your cold absence.  Years passed by and soon the Demons all died off one by one, and by the year 2084, humans ruled the Earth as one unit again.  

2084 seemed like such a bright future, but honestly it was very ordinary.  technology had advanced, yes, but the people as a whole had remained the same as all those years ago. They had learned that if they wanted change to occur, it should never be immediate and needs to be monitored and a collective progress of the people. 

2084 was the year that Earth once again was prosperous.  Travel was still busy as ever and many people had more opportunities to go wherever they wished. Many came to your city in hopes of seeing and praying at the sacred Temple you created for the people. 

2084 was the year a young, 25 year old man from Korea had decided to take a trip to anywhere, but home.  He had a goal, a goal of finding an older styled tattoo shop and getting a tattoo of a symbol he mindlessly doodled on a piece of paper, kept in his wallet.  

He had heard of a tattoo shop that was a small little hole in the wall, but was still in business thanks to it’s older style of the 2020s.  Not decked out in TVs, or radios, or machines.  Just a walk in shop with a bell on the door.  He had found it fairly easily with the help of his phone and soon he was stepping inside. 

The little bell signaled a walk in, and an older man greeted the younger one at the desk. The shop was covered in sketches hanging from the walls, and a divider was set up between the waiting area and the bench for the actual work to start. Even the air inside the place felt rustic and clean, as opposed to heavy and loitered in ink. 

“What can I do for you today?” The old man spoke over the counter to the young man.  He pulled out his wallet, and then the small scrap of folded paper before he slid it onto the desk top.

“I wanted to get this done today, if I could.”  The old man took it, and smiled at it fondly, almost like he had seen the completely random doodle the younger had drawn before. He nodded though. 

“Of course.  My granddaughter is in the back, I’ll have her make you a stencil and she’ll ink you.” He took the small scrap of paper and moved to a small door behind the desk.  “Make a stencil for the young man outside, you have something to do today.”  

20 minutes later, the old man was ushering the man behind the divider and into a chair.  He had pulled off his shirt, wanting the tattoo on his chest and sat, waiting for his granddaughter.  And soon, she showed up around the divider.  

“Hey!  I’m your artist for the day!”  The girl sat down in her own chair across front he young man as she then got up and jabbed at his chest.  “So a chest tat, huh?” He nodded. 

“Just felt like it shouldn’t go anywhere else, you know?” She nodded.  She had tattoos on her arms and he even saw one peeking out from under her shirt collar to her neck.  Her hair was pulled back out of her face, and she looked fairly comfortable, and happy.  It was a small shop, so maybe business was slow most of the time. 

“I hear yah, some times they just need to go in one place, or else it’s all wrong.  What’s your name by the way?” She started marking his chest with where it was going to do, transferring the stencil to his skin before the actual process. 

“Wonho, or that’s what I want to be called.”  She nodded.  Interesting name, interesting design, he must be a very interesting man. He looked at her sewn in name on her shirt. 

Y/N.  That was your name.  

“Well, Wonho, got any other tats you wanna share with the class?” He spoke to you the entire time you worked on his chest.  Inking, wiping, re-inking and wiping again.  He told you about the tattoos on his foot, thigh and even the risque one on his rear.  You explained some of yours, and how you wanted to be a tattoo artist ever since you watched your grandfather do it as a child. 

By the time the process was done, and he was admiring your finished work. He had sheepishly asked if he could get your number, not feeling like it would be right to leave without keeping in contact with you.  With a successful number swap and even a possible date with you, the pretty tattoos artist, Wonho walked out of the shop with a feeling in his chest that made him feel like he’s been reunited with someone he lost long ago, someone he use to know. That, and a new tattoo on his chest.

A tattoo of an ancient star.

[weliveourdream]

Hola everyone.

You’re not going to believe it, but the day has come. Today I’m finally telling you all about my week at the Nova Rock festival. And I know, it literally took me ages to write this, but now it’s here and I’m more than excited for you to read this. Let’s go.

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So, first of all, I have to say it was freaking awesome and I loved every single second of it and I want to go back. Like, right now. Please? Can we please go now? I need it in my life. It was so so so cool to work at a festival and not just attend it. Can you imagine being handed one of those “all access”-passes that casually has your name written on it. I nearly fainted. I mean, I literally took a step into the world I want to spend the rest of my life in. And even though the music wasn’t really my type all the time as it was a rock festival with quite some metal bands being part of the linup, I still had a grin on my face 24/7. I just felt so alive. Like the first time when you eat Nutella. It just changes everything. What you feel, what you think, what you want. Everything. And that’s exactly what this week did to me. I now know my path in life and I can’t wait to wander along it.

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But let’s go a bit deeper, shall we? So, as I already mentioned, I got to work at the festival for a whole week, from Monday to the next Monday. The actual festival went from Thursday to Sunday, so needless to say that those were the most fun days. The first few days I basically just helped with the organizing and the set up, walked around the area and worked with some TV crews, by which I mean that I gave them a little tour of the whole area. And from the first day on everyone was just so freaking nice and welcoming to me. The TV crews joked around with me, the team and I always went to lunch together, we chatted and laughed and I felt so happy and comfortable and just overall like the luckiest girl ever.

.

During Wednesday night the first bands started arriving  and then on Thursday I literally had the best day ever. In the morning I again did a little tour with a TV crew and could even stay with them during their interview with a band. Guys, there was a moment when I was seriously sitting in a freaking tour bus. An official tour bus, with the band, their manager and the crew in it. And me. How crazy is that? But that’s not everything. When I got out of the bus and walked around the corner 2/5 of the band Kraftklub, one of my favorite bands, walked past me. I couldn’t believe it. I was literally starstruck and couldn’t believe my luck. But little did I know that they would walk past me again just an hour later, but this time completed with a little pause and direct eye contact with them. I must have looked like such a damn freak, with my eyes wide open and that crazy, admiring look I always have when I look at one of my faves. Oh well. I guess I need to work on my coolness when it comes to meeting bands. For future references, you know. After that moment the day was officially the best one and couldn’t be topped, because I started to grin and that smile never left my face.

.

Later that day I met up with my friend who was attending the festival too. Guys, owning that kind of pass is like the coolest thing ever. I felt so damn cool. I even got to watch a few bands from the stage. And I really mean from the stage, because I was literally standing right around the corner on the stage, with the crew and everything. So unbelievable. And then I even had the chance to attend the Kraftklub concert which was so freaking amazing. They’re such a fantastic band and seriously never fail to amaze me.

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The remaining days I basically walked around the festival, watched some bands, met up with my friends and helped my team and the other coworkers.  I even got to take some pictures for the official Instagram page. And guys, the whole week was literally so much fun. Seriously. I felt so grateful for the chance to work there and still am flabbergasted that that seriously happened. Because for the first time I was truly a part of the community I’ve always dreamed about and want to spend the rest of my life in. And that just meant and still means so freaking much to me. It was like the last little nudge I needed to fully know that this is where I’m meant to be. This is where I belong. Surrounded by music and people who all share the same passion for it. And I couldn’t be happier about that.

.

.

So yeah guys, there you go. That’s my week at Nova and basically one of the coolest weeks ever. I hope you enjoy reading all about it. Oh and I hope you’re all doing great and that so far your weeks has been just as good. I’m actually in the best mood ever as I’m currently sat in my garden at home, with Martijn playing in the background and the fact in mind that I’m going to see this cutie again in just a few hours. I seriously can’t wait to jump around again to these songs. God, I’m so excited. I’ll of course tell you all about it. So yeah, that’s my upcoming weekend. As always I also wish you an amazing weekend. And, of course, thanks for reading. x

Hey everybody. Today I get the chance to share something very special with you - my week at the Nova Rock festival. I have to say it was one of the coolest weeks ever and really showed me that this is where I belong and am meant to be. And I couldn't be any more thankful for that and happier. As always I hope you enjoy this post and wish you all a great weekend. And, of course, thanks for reading. x Hola everyone. You're not going to believe it, but the day has come. Today I'm finally telling you all about my week at the Nova Rock festival.

[dipulb3]

Fitbit Charge 4 review: Built-in GPS and better sleep tracking, plus it's pretty

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/fitbit-charge-4-review-built-in-gps-and-better-sleep-tracking-plus-its-pretty/

Fitbit Charge 4 review: Built-in GPS and better sleep tracking, plus it's pretty

The Fitbit Charge 4 ($150 at Best Buy) has everything you need in a fitness tracker for under $200. It finally includes built-in GPS to track outdoor workouts independently, it has better training tools for athletes, and it fits most of the same smartwatch features into a slimmer package than the more expensive Fitbit Versa ($185 at Amazon). It’s my favorite Fitbit yet. If you’re looking for a fitness tracker than behaves a lot like a smartwatch without the extra bulk, the Fitbit Charge 4 might be the perfect fit. 

Like

Sleek, minimalistic design

Heart rate zone notifications

Compatibility with iOS and Android

Sleep tracking and analysis

Don’t Like

Low visibility in direct sunlight

No quick reply for messages on iPhone

Shorter battery life than the Fitbit Charge 3

Added features without the added bulk 

There are plenty of great wearables for athletes, like the Garmin Forerunner 945 and Suunto 3, that have way more fitness chops than the Charge 4, but they’re not the most fashionable. The $150 Charge 4 (£130, AU$230) is a tracker I will happily wear 24/7 thanks to its sleek, understated design. If you’re familiar with the Charge 3 ($116 at Amazon), the new version doesn’t look much different — it’s just the tiniest bit bulkier on your wrist. 

The screen can only display in black and white, but I like that it’s nearly half the size of a traditional smartwatch, such as the Apple Watch ($399 at Apple), and it also does away with physical buttons. Instead, you control the Charge 4 with a combination of the touchscreen and by pressing the left side of the tracker to navigate settings. The touchscreen isn’t as responsive and it takes a few seconds to light up when you raise your arm to wake the screen, but I eventually got where I wanted to go. The only time the lag really bothered me was while I was running and wanted to quickly glance at my stats without taking my eyes off the road. Like the Charge 3, it’s also hard to see the screen in direct sunlight. 

The regular Charge 4 comes in three different colors with silicone sports bands, but the Special Edition, or SE, version that I tested out also comes with a woven band option for $20 more. Straps are easy to swap out (unlike the Versa 2 ($200 at Best Buy), which has tricky toggles) and if you’re upgrading from the Charge 3 you’ll be able to use those bands on the newer tracker. There are also a bunch of third-party strap options available to customize your look. 

The Charge 4 is comfortable to wear throughout the day and doesn’t dig into my skin when I tighten it up during a run. You can also wear it to bed. Like other Fitbits, it also tracks your sleep. I won’t go as far as to say that it’s comfortable to wear in bed, but at least I didn’t want to rip it off in the middle of the night like other trackers. 

The Charge 4 pushed me to run faster

As a basic fitness tracker, the previous Charge models already checked most of the boxes: measuring steps, calories, floors climbed, heart rate and distance (using your phone’s GPS). But that wasn’t enough for more serious runners like me. I’m by no means an elite athlete, but I do run on a regular basis, so having a built-in GPS is high on my wish list. The GPS allows the Charge 4 to map your route during an outdoor walk, run, bike ride or hike without having to rely on your phone. 

I’ve gone on a few runs and the Charge 4 has given consistent distance readings on the same route with and without my phone. You can also see a heat map of your route on the Fitbit app, which also indicates the intensity at which you were running based on your heart rate. 

The only other Fitbit device that offers built-in GPS feature is the Ionic ($199 at Amazon) watch, but it’s now over two years old and I found it too big and bulky to wear on a regular basis.

Vanessa Hand Orellana/CNET

The Charge 4 tracks over 20 different activities, from cycling to yoga. It’s also water resistant up to 50 meters like the Charge 3, so you can use it for swimming. You can program up to six exercise shortcuts on the Charge 4, but you do have to choose them and sync from the phone app. You can also set it to track your runs automatically, and set goals for things like pace, distance or calories burned before you start each activity. 

GPS is not the only tool for athletes. The Charge 4 has added a new metric called Active Zone Minutes, which uses your heart rate zones to determine the intensity of your workout. The goal is to have 150 active minutes logged by the end of each week, but you can increase or decrease the target based on your fitness level. 

A few years ago, Fitbit started breaking out heart rate data into training zones for each activity, based on age and weight. After a workout you can log into the mobile app and see how long you were in fat burn, cardio or peak. The Charge 4 adds real-time heart rate zone notifications so you can take action during your workout. 

I had to push myself much harder than usual to get my peak heart rate alert to pop up on the screen (you also get a buzz on your wrist when you reach each zone). I realized I’d been overestimating my effort and it was helpful to have the Charge nudging me to get out of my comfort zone. I can see this being a good training tool if you’re looking to break your personal record in a race.

Battery life takes a hit

The only downside about having GPS on the Charge is that it’ll gobble up your battery a lot faster than on the Charge 3. Fitbit says the Charge 4 can last up to seven days on a charge, but I barely made it to day four before having to plug it in.

I didn’t mind having to recharge after four days, but if you’re looking to get the most out of your battery life (and are planning to use it at night) I would recommend turning off the GPS when it’s not in use. You’ll just have to remember to do this after your workout. You can do this from the exercise shortcuts on the Charge. Just swipe up from an activity that uses GPS, like running or cycling, and toggle it off. 

Sleep tracking has some serious benefits 

I’ve never gotten much out of tracking my sleep in the past. With a 6-month-old baby and a toddler waking me up at odd hours of the night I was scared to even see my stats the next morning, let alone get graded on my sleep. Each morning, the Fitbit app gives you a Sleep Score based on everything from sleep duration to sleep stages, heart rate and variations in blood oxygen levels, aka SPO2. 

After a few nights of testing, it’s actually provided some useful data about my sleep habits. For starters, I’ve gotten a passing grade (above a 60) every single night, despite waking up to nurse my little one. The app told me it’s normal to spend up to 45 minutes awake each night, which was comforting. It also gives you advice on how to improve your score, like keeping your bedtime consistent, regardless of how late (or early) it is. 

Vanessa Hand Orellana/CNET

Everyone can see basic information in the app, like how much sleep you get and its quality, but Fitbit Premium subscribers get access to heart rate and blood oxygen data. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in my chart, but I can see this feature being extremely helpful for people who suspect they might have a more serious sleep-related condition like sleep apnea. In that case it might be worth the extra $9.99 (£8.99, AU$15.49) a month for a premium account. 

There is one foreseeable downside: With all this sleep data I worry that I might become dependent on the Sleep Score to feel energized during the day. That is, a low Sleep Score may subconsciously make me feel tired, even though I felt like I got a good night’s rest. 

More than just a fitness tracker

The Charge 4 goes beyond health and fitness tracking with a few smart features up its sleeve. It mirrors every notification you can get on your phone whether you have an iPhone ($699 at Apple) or an Android phone, but only Android users will be able to reply to messages with preprogrammed quick replies. 

You still can’t store music onboard to take with you on a run, but if you’re a Spotify Premium subscriber, you will be able to use the Charge 4 as a basic wrist remote to pause and skip tracks. There’s no volume control though. 

It now also includes a new agenda app along with the existing timer, alarm and weather apps. 

You’ll be able to set up Fitbit Pay on your wrist and use the Charge 4 on any tap-to-pay payment terminal as the tracker now comes with built-in NFC (previously, you had to buy the special edition Charge to get Fitbit Pay). Sadly it still doesn’t have as many bank partners as Google or Apple Pay and was not compatible with my primary bank (US Bank), so I couldn’t test it out. I’m also quarantined at home, so most of my payments are made online anyways, not at brick-and-mortar stores. 

Everything you need in a tiny package

The Charge 4 does a lot considering it’s essentially a fitness tracker. But you don’t end up saving that much compared to a smartwatch like Fitbit’s own Versa 2 (the regular Charge 4 is $50 less than the Versa 2, which only has connected GPS).

So the price alone is not reason enough to choose the Charge 4. For me, it’s about getting everything Fitbit offers, including GPS, in a slimmer package than the Versa 2. The Charge 4 is my favorite Fitbit to date.  

First published on May 18.

[octannibal-blake]

Hi, love your fics! "kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap" for bellarke. (If you let me be specific....I'd like this in canon. I love Bellamy's scruff but I wouldn't be mad if there's a scene where clarke's sitting in his lap, shaving his beard off, and there's sexual tension)

gah thank you so much!! um, again, canon bellarke is my SHIT and writing this was truly an ethereal experience because like…bellamy blake and a beard has truly changed me. tbh i love it and think he looks amazing. but anyways, i hope this is everything you wanted and more, nonny! 

P.S: I was listening to the song Dearly Departed by DeVotchka while writing this. the title came from it. You can listen to it here. 

how i missed your heart (beating next to mine)

(ao3)

There is a strange sense of deja vu being back on Earth. You would think the second nuclear apocalypse would make everything different, but it stills seems eerily familiar. Perhaps it’s because six years later, Bellamy is standing in the same place he had been thousands of days ago. He’s standing on the balcony of the lab watching his friends drink and laugh together like nothing had changed. Like they didn’t carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Maybe it’s because they didn’t. Maybe he carried it all. Maybe he still does.

“You think it’s time we finally have that drink?” a familiar voice pulls him from his reverie. He turns to find her, still unsure if everything that’s happening is real. Clarke. She’s alive. She survived.

Their reunion hadn’t been glorious. In fact, it was a simple lock of the eyes and a half-smile before they had to disappear into the woods to escape their newest enemy. Of course. They always have fucking enemies. But now he gets to look at her, really look at her for the first time in 2,205 days. She looks healthy, her curves softer than they’ve ever been and her skin glows in the bright light. She’s cut her hair into a shorter bob and somehow managed to add color to it. She smiles like she hadn’t been left behind to die. Left behind to die by him. It makes his heart feel like it’s going to shatter into a million pieces – he knows because he’s felt it before. He felt it the day they left.

“I’m not much of a drinker anymore,” he says as lightly as he can despite thinking of the months he spent drinking away pain and loathing on the Ark. He’s not proud of himself, after all, they had chosen him to lead them. He did. He was a leader during the day, but at night he would numb himself to the responsibility. He would numb his heart so he could better listen to his head.

He feels warmth seep into his sleeve and freezes, his body unraveling at the smallest touch. She’s real. She’s real. She’s here.

“Bellamy,” she whispers his name and it’s a godsend. He always loved the way it fell from her lips and he spent so long believing he’d never hear it again. When he looks at her, whatever she had been about to say dies on her lips. They stare at each other, all their unspoken words hanging in the air. I’m sorry. I forgive you. I’m happy you’re here. I missed you. So much.

“Clarke!” Raven’s voice interrupts the moment, “Get your ass down here and drink with us!”

She steps back from him with a sad smile, like she wishes more than anything they could just have one fucking moment to themselves. But it’s just like old times. Just when they have a second to breathe together, someone always takes it away. He can’t really blame them this time. After all, they too are trying to comprehend the fact that their friend is alive.

He follows her over to the group, if only because he’s not quite ready to be away from her again even if it’s only for a moment. Not to mention he’s done six years of brooding on his own, he can’t take much more. His cup remains filled with water as they all laugh and tell stories of their years apart. They’ve lost so much but in this moment it feels like they’ve gained so much more. It’s late into the night before people begin to drift off, one by one. Eventually, he and Clarke are the only two left awake.

“I didn’t even know you could grow a beard,” she muses and he can’t help the chuckle that slips from his throat.

“Me either,” he admits, “It just kind of happened.”

And it did. Shaving became a tedious task by the end of their stay on the Ark. He was spending long days working on the rocket and using the rest of the time to sleep. Shaving wasn’t exactly a priority.  

“No razors on the ring?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Didn’t really care to do it, honestly.”

She hums in response before standing and holding a hand out to him. He raises his eyebrow in question and she grins (fuck, when did her smile start lighting entire rooms?), “Let’s go take care of it.”

He feels that sense of  deja vu again. Clarke Griffin is standing in front of him, hating on his beard, and acting like no time had ever passed between them. She’s forgiven him, he realizes. Of course she would. Only she would brush off being left to die and chalk it up to, ‘you did what you had to do.’

“You don’t like my beard, Princess?” it comes out before he can really think about it and she looks just as surprised as he feels but she plays it off.

“Eh.” and with that, he finds himself following her up the stairs and into the bedroom. She pushes him on the bed and demands that he sit and he’s trying not to let his mind go there but it all feels extremely intimate.

He hears her fumbling around in the attached bathroom and she emerges a few moments later with a bottle and old scalpel. He eyes the tool warily and she laughs softly.

“Trust me, it works a lot better than a knife,” she tells him. She places the items on the table and puts a hand on his cheek to examine the patches of hair that have grown along his chin and neck. His heart slams against his chest at the contact and suddenly the air feels thick.

Seemingly unaffected by the closeness, she grabs the bottle from the table and pours some into her palm before rubbing into the overgrown areas, “It’s conditioner. Surprisingly hard to make. “

He grunts, unable to form coherent words in this exact moment. 48 hours ago, they had been preparing to come back to Earth and have to start from scratch. As far as any of them knew, Clarke had been dead for six years. 24 hours ago, she had found them in a flurry of blonde, complete with an adopted child (which nearly makes him laugh, because of course she would find someone to take care of in their absence). Now, she’s in front of him helping him shave. It’s all so fucking surreal.

“Turn your head,” she murmurs and he does as she says, closing his eyes while her fingers massage into his cheek. Her hands are steady as they sweep the hair from his cheek, his chin. He can feel her breath brushing each newly bare area and it sends goosebumps up his arms. She’s here. She’s so close. He has to close his eyes for a moment to keep himself grounded. It can’t be happening. It shouldn’t be happening. But it is.

“Clarke,” it’s the first time he says her name and her movements still. When he opens his eyes, she is staring right back at him, her blue irises piercing into his soul. He swallows the small lump beginning to form in his throat.

“Tilt your head back,” she directs quietly and threads her empty hand through his curls, gently tugging him back. He has to close his eyes again because, fuck, the close proximity, the way she’s touching and caressing his skin. He feels like he’s on fire.

She makes quick work of his cheeks and chin, but getting the patches on his neck seem to providing a lot more trouble for her. She pauses for a moment before setting the the scalpel on the bed.

She clears her throat, “I’m having trouble with this part…do you…can I?”

Her nervousness is full frontal now, wringing her hands in front of him and looking anywhere but into his eyes. He isn’t sure what she’s trying to ask, but he knows he doesn’t want her to stop.

“Go ahead,” he tells her. She lets out a small breath before she pushes his shoulder to help him lean back. He does, leaning back onto his forearms so she has full access to his neck. He’s fine. He’s under control. Until she climbs onto his lap, with her legs on either side of him. In all the time they’ve known each other, even in their most intimate moments, it’s the closest contact they’ve ever had. His breath hitches in his throat and she looks like she may change her mind, so he grabs her wrist and nods for her to continue. He wants her to keep going.

He tilts his head back and she leans in, her breath hot on his neck as she concentrates on the more sensitive parts of his throat. She works the blade slowly and gently, rubbing her thumb over the newly smooth skin. Before he’s ready, she scrapes the last of the hair and wipes at him gently with the cloth she had slung over her shoulder. She brushes it along his neck, his cheeks, his lips. His hands of begun to idly slide up her thighs, gripping her through her pants and rubbing circles into the flesh.

It’s funny how he could only know her for such a short amount of time, most of which they spent at odds, and yet still feel an unmistakable pull to her. Everything about her intrigues him, challenges him, moves him. His hands are on her waist now, digging into her hip bones and her eyes close at the touch. It’s too much, he thinks, it’s too soon to feel this way again. But she’s consuming him just like she always had and now that he has her back, now that she’s really here, he can’t find it in himself to pull away.

He leans up, bringing them closer together and leans his forehead against hers and they’re breathing each other in. They should talk, but talking almost seems inadequate. Her hands fall to his shoulders, they trace each plane of his arm like she’s trying to retrace every piece of him she could have forgotten in their time apart. As her hands fall, his rise, moving across her waist, her back, tangle in her hair. IT’s then he realizes he’s smiling, truly and genuinely smiling, and she’s smiling too. When her eyes open they’re full and he brushes a thumb along her cheek to wipe away the stray tear having fallen.

“You’re alive,” he whispers and it feels like the reunion they deserve. Uninterrupted. Personal. Intense.

“So are you,” she responds and suddenly the tension is too much. They aren’t close enough. She has to understand what it all means. What she means to him.

He brushes his lips against hers and it’s quick and soft. She stills and suddenly he thinks he may have misread her, may have gotten it all wrong. But then she chokes out a sob, one full of overwhelming joy and before he can react, she crushes her lips against his and her hands immediately tangle into his hair again holding him to her.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t ever dreamt about this moment. He had a million times, a million lifetimes ago. And he thought it would always remain a dream, that it would always be something he’d regret not doing before their time was up. But time has been forgiving. IT’s been a blessing. It’s been given back to them and he decides, right then as they pour everything into each other’s lips, that he won’t ever take it for granted.

[courteternal-rp]

→ general details

name ; twila apollon

age ; appears 24 || actually 508

gender & sexuality ; female, bisexual

race ; high fae

do they hold a position or title? ; lady of the day court, princess of phaoryze

loyalty ; the day court

face claim ; hailee steinfeld

→ in depth

→ aesthetics

the rosy glow of a soft sunset. gold jewelry against tanned skin. a sprawl of half-read ancient texts. barefeet and fine bejeweled gowns. heart of gold, eyes of gold. the adrenaline of free-falling. dark, brown curls that bounce with each giggle. untapped potential. i read that somewhere, but i don’t remember where. seeing the moon when it’s still daylight. a moment lost in the shadows.

→ headcanons

books ; while twila loves to read and uses books to sate her ever-eager curiosity, she often finds herself reading several different books at one time. her room, more often than not, is littered with ancient books that are each opened to a different page. there is no rhyme nor reason to which books she reads at what point and how long it takes to finish one.

parents ; twila never knew her parents very well. in fact, she only met them a couple of times in her life before they passed away. she loves to hear stories about them, but there is some animosity in her heart that they chose to be away from her for the entirety of her childhood and then never came home. twila always wanted to be like them and feels a bit like a disappointment to be so little like either.

sweet & sour ; twila has a deep love of anything sweet or sour. she can be found in the kitchens sneaking sweet snacks or fruit any time of day. her favorite thing to eat is lemon cake, and she will eat an entire one by herself if left to her own devices.

→ powers

Twila is very capable of basic magic such as glamouring, summoning, and healing. Her bursts of magic often comes as a second nature to her, and due to the minor nature of this magic it is rare that she ever deplete her stores. She does have the ability to winnow in a flash of sunlight. It has been noted that as many members of the High Lord’s family, Twila possesses the ability to glow like the sun. However, instead of the bright and overbearing light that her cousin possesses, Twila glows the soft rosey color of a sunset. Some have noticed that the princess can often work around very powerful wards and spells with seemingly little effort. Twila does not think much of it, as it is nothing she ever attempts to do, but there is the promise of a cursebreaking ability that she has not discovered in five hundred years.

→ personality

ebullient ; despite the tragedy that she’s seen in her life, twila has always been happy and fun-loving. she tries to never let things bring her down for too long. although it has become more difficult in the more recent years, twila has become better at hiding any negative feelings behind her bright smile.

loquacious ; it goes hand in hand with her pleasant nature. twila does not often know when to stop talking. unlike many in her position, she had never been very good at games of politics and manipulation. she says whatever comes into her mind without much filtering.

intrepid ; fearless and curious, twila is happy to jump feet first into any situation. she never had much use for caution or fear and never learned the need for them, either. 

guileless ; some believe twila’s innocence to be a farce or a strategy to throw them off of her trail. however, they soon realize that it is genuine in nature. she has no desire to trick people, but it often leads her to forget that not everyone has the same outlook on life.

amiable ; twila has always been friendly and warm in nature. there is little that could sway her from being that way. it gives her a strange sort of charm even though she often leaves people at arm’s length.

impetuous ; being fearless goes hand in hand with being impulsive. twila rarely thinks her actions through to their entirety. instead, she relies heavily on her own instincts.

→ biography

Endymion Apollon was the youngest brother of the High Lord of the Day Court. He was well known in all of Prythian for his magnificent ability to weave spells. There were few who could manage to craft them so impervious to breaking as he. At a young age, it came to light that he would be engaged to the daughter of a High Fae from the Dawn Court named Maricela in order to strengthen the alliance between the two courts. The marriage eventually grew into one of great love and admiration. While Endymion spent most of his days perfecting his particular skill set, Maricela proved herself as a general for the armies of the Day Court. They were each absolutely indispensable assets to the High Lord.

The news that they would soon give birth to a child made the couple overjoyed. Twila was born midsummer. She was the light of her parents' life. The babe wanted for nothing. She was doted upon and fiercely loved every single day, not only by her parents but by anyone who knew her. However, this all changed with the War began. The Day Court had been one of the most staunch supporters of human liberation which meant that the seven years the war raged on had  Endymion and Maricela called to the front lines with their High Lord. There were few times in those years that Twila’s parents had the opportunity to return home and see their child. They could not risk losing any moves. The majority of Twila’s time was spent with her aunt and cousin, who happily raised her while her parents were away. 

During the last year of the war, The Day Court made a stand against the King of Hybern. The battle lasted for two weeks. On the final day, Endymion was struck down first, and then Maricela on her way to her husband’s side. The High Lord did everything in his power to fight his own way to both of them, but was tragically too late to save either. He personally left the front lines of the war, which was nearing its end, to tell Twila what happened himself. He swore to her that she would always be taken care of, and that her place was with her family. The High Lord adopted her as if she were his own daughter and raised her as such. 

Twila had been a child filled with kindness and compassion from a very young age. From the first days that she could speak and walk, she used her time to help others. The little princess would find her way down to the kitchen and help to pour drinks or sift flour. She would always follow around after the maids with a rag of her own despite their constant objections. As she grew older, she gave into her curiosity and loved to explore the far reaches of the surrounding cities. If there were ever a face to look at her in need, the girl did not hesitate to even pull the jewelry from her neck to give away. Why should any go without when she had so much? Her aunt always claimed that she got this trait from her father who was much the same. All that being said, Twila was an equally wild child. Twila would convince her cousin to run through the halls to play tag or hide and seek with her on any given day. She was often found climbing the trellises and statues about the palace. A healer needed to be called in on multiple occasions because she would fearlesses jump from any heights just to see if she could land. Oftentimes she would discover that she could not. 

Twila was truly treated like a daughter to the High Lord. Never once did anyone question her place in the family. However, she always felt as though she did not quite belong. Although no one would verbalize it, Twila could always tell that it was expected that she would one day either grow into her mother’s natural ability to strategize and lead or she would mature into her father’s ability to spellweave. However, Twila was always a strong pacifist. She had no desire to lead people into war when it had done nothing but take her parents from her and leave those she loved scarred from it. When she matured, there was no sign of that spellweaving ability either. In fact, it appeared that she only inherited the traditional magical abilities of those in the family of the High Lord of the Day Court in very small doses. Twila only felt more discouraged by this. She wanted to find a way that she could be of use to the family that had raised her so lovingly. She did not wish to be a burden to them.

That’s how Twila came to the decision to begin studying the ancient tomes housed in the Day Court libraries. The Day Court was well known for having the greatest collection of books in the known world, and Twila was denied access to nothing. She would wake up with the rising sun and spend hours reading through book after book. She would even read well into the night occasionally. Against the rules, Twila would frequently sneak the books away from the libraries to read out in the sunshine, too. This is how things went along for more than a century. Until she was caught by one of the librarians. 

The librarian was a young male by the name of Cato. He’d only recently come into his position and was still in training when he caught the princess sneaking in one of the books that had been previously borrowed and preparing to winnow away another. Cato had been incensed. He could not believe that anyone would be so incredibly short-sighted. He lectured her for nearly an hour afterwards and insisted that she never be left alone with the books again. No one listened to him. Yet, he could always be certain to watch her while she was in the library to ensure that she did not break the rules again.

Before long, the two became friends. Twila admired how strongly he stayed to his convictions and laughed frequently at his sense of humor. Cato realized that Twila was merely passionate and invested in doing for others. They spent nearly every single day together as Twila continually came back to his library. Eventually, they found ways to seek one another out when they were in the company of books. Twila invited him to parties and nights out dancing. Cato invited her out to picnics and to shop in the market. Throughout the following decades, their friendship grew into a deep fondness and then into a blossoming love. Cato asked the High Lord for permission to marry her and was granted it with no hesitation. Twila was overjoyed to have him as a husband. While no mating bond ever slipped into place, Twila was unconcerned with that fact. Her parents had not been mates, either, but they’d been very much in love. 

Before they were wed, an attack happened on the library during the dead of night. Twila awoke to learn that not only had several important spellbooks been raided, but that her fiancé had been killed in an effort to protect the books. It was a shock that cast Twila into a rather deep depression. She no longer had the energy to spend her days running free or helping others. She no longer felt comfortable in the libraries that had been as a second home to her for centuries. Twila, left to her own devices, would lay in her bed for days on end. It was her cousin that pulled her from her self-pity. When the Book of Breathings was nearly stolen, he insisted that Twila become involved. Afterall, who knew books better than she did? She knew the spell to track it off the top of her head. When her cousin was depowered, Twila knew that she could no longer feel sorry for herself. Instead, she pulled her energy into assisting her cousin and researching what the King of Hybern could have done. If there was an answer as to how to reverse the curse in one of the Day Court’s books, Twila would be certain that she found it. No one in all of Prythian had spent more time with books of history, magic, or spells than she had, and that would be a very useful trait when the time came for it.

[goingknowherewastaken]

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Two

Title: Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again 

Fandom: Star Trek with a small dash of Pete’s Dragon

Relationship: McKirk || Jim x Bones

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Here’s Part Two! And we are finally introducing Jim! This and the next few parts will focus on Jim. I debated on combining them all together, but it would have gotten a little to long for posting on here :p

This is apart of a series! You can read the previous parts here: Part One |

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Two

WELCOME TO MILLHAVEN POPULATION 770

“770 people,” the weary blond read as he rolled into the tiny forest town.

Good enough.

He stopped at the first, and seemingly only, stoplight in the town and squinted down the street. He could see the signs for several small businesses on the main drag, but the one with the most appeal was the one declaring 'Millhaven Motel'.

He slowly drove further along and pulled into the small parking lot, joining the five other vehicles already there. The Millhaven Motel fit the motel stereotype to a 'T'. It was a small, low, 'U' shaped building encompassing it's parking lot. On it's exterior, ten numbered doors were inset equally around the walls while an eleventh one – placed at the very end on his left – was marked with the sign 'Reception Office'.

The tan building was no Ritz or Hyatt, but it would work.

Grabbing his overstuffed, leather duffel bag and – thankfully – dead phone from where he threw it into the back seat, he shuffled down to the Reception Office. The chiller evening air bit through his white t-shirt and jeans and he made a mental note to purchase a jacket while he was here. A strand of bells jingled as he swung the door opened and entered the cramped room. A handful of chairs were lined against the wall to his left and a long desk sat in front of the wall on his left. Another door opposite the entryway displayed an 'Employee's Only' sign.

All-in-all, the whole place could be described as '50 Shades of Beige'.

He reached out and tapped the silver bell sitting on the desk and dropped his bag on the ground. He didn't have to wait long for the back door to open and reveal a short, blonde woman -

- platinum blonde hair, as soft as silk between his fingers -

He blinked and took in a short breath at the intruding memory, before rubbing at his eyes and pushing the thoughts away.

She gave him a soft smile as she went around the desk, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Evening!” she greeted. “I'm Janice, I help run the motel.” She took a seat and pulled over a guest book. “I'm guessing you're interested in a room?”

“Uh, yes ma'am. Just for a few days.”

She raised an elegant eyebrow at him. “Alright, we have six vacancies at the moment. Each room comes with a queen sized bed, a kitchenette, small bathroom, and Wi-Fi. Although, our location may cause your Internet access to be slow. We charge $100 a night.”

“Okay, sounds good.” She could have said the room was $5,000 a night and he still would have accepted it. Anything to sleep and get a rest from the hell his mind was keeping at bay.

Janice passed over a clipboard and pen. “Excellent! You have a few papers to sign, Mr...,” she trailed off waiting for him to introduce himself.

He scratched at his short beard. Maybe he should grow it out more? “Oh, ah, James K-- Tiberius. James Tiberius.” She didn't seem to have noticed his near slip-up as she copied down his name and for that he was grateful.

The next few minutes passed quickly as Jim signed the forms and handed over three hundreds. He accepted the key and bid her 'good-night' before heading down to Room 5.

The room certainly looked clean, but, at the moment, Jim didn't care. Once he locked the door behind him and tossed his bag on the floor, he walked over and collapsed onto the bed – forgoing the decision to change.

After driving for nearly 24 hours, taking back road after back road with only a handful of pit stops, all he wanted to do was sleep.

He could worry about everything else in the morning.

☼

Morning came all too soon for the exhausted blond and Jim squinted angrily at the overly bright sunlight streaming in though the open blinds and curtains.

He sort of regretted not closing those before falling asleep.

The clock on the nightstand read 8:20 A.M. as he drug himself off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, his ten minute shower doing wonders for his alertness. After drying off and dressing in a green, cashmere sweater and dark-wash jeans, he looked over his current accommodations.

The room was small – the bed taking up most of the space – and the attached bathroom wasn't any better. He had two nightstands and lamps, a low dresser with a decent sized TV sat opposite the bed, and a table and two chairs sat in front of the wide window. None of which seemed to be bolted down so Jim considered that a plus; not that he planned on stealing anything.

He missed their home – HIS home he thought bitterly. One he couldn't go back to. A wave of anger surged through him and it took several deep breaths to shove it back down.

He focused instead on checking the floor under the bed and a looking under the mattress, after which he had to admit that Nyota would have approved.

Shit! Nyota.

Jim groaned and rummaged through his bag for his charger. He plugged in his phone and set it back down on the nightstand. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, but after several days of silence on his end – his stomach soured again at the memories – he supposed he should call her at some point today. Not right now, though.

Now he needed to get food and figure out what the hell he was doing.

There were several business cards and takeout menus for local Millhaven restaurants and his decision was made pretty fast seeing as only one of them was open this early.

☼

Located in a brick building just down from the motel, Yorktown was probably the most modern business in town. On the interior, at least. The quaint restaurant reminded Jim of the ones he ate at in the big cities; with shiny black tables and matching chairs, black and white photos of NYC architecture, and dozens of plants growing everywhere.

Hipsters would kill to eat at a place like this.

Pulling off his sunglasses, Jim heeded the 'Seat Yourself' sign and picked out a table towards the back of the dinning space. Not that it mattered, the only other diners were three elderly couples who appeared to be having their regular Tuesday breakfast meet-up. Quickly spotting the most private – and most open – seats in a restaurant had become second nature to him over the years.

Jim ran a hand over his jaw, still unnerved at the feeling of rough hair there. He couldn't recall a time where his jaw was covered in anything more than a five o'clock. Leaving it grow would definitely benefit him now, but – even if he had been clean shaven – he highly doubted these people would have recognized him. On the other hand, there was no telling if they had been keeping an eye on the media lately.

“Good morning! Welcome to Yorktown!”

Jim's attention snapped back into focus as a young kid laid down a plastic menu in front of him and pulled out a notepad. With a kind face and curly blond hair, Jim guessed he was in his twenties, if not a little younger.  “Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu?” His words revealed a Russian accent.

“Uh, coffee, please. Black. Regular.”

The guy nodded left to grab a pot of coffee and a cup. Once it was poured, the guy stepped back and gave Jim an assessing once-over. “You're new to this area.”

“Yeah, I just got in last night.” Dread started to pool in his stomach. Not now.

“Sorry, it's just that, I know we haven't met before, but you look really familiar?” His head tilted in thought, a few curls shifting over his eyes.

Shit.

Jim shrugged and tried to play it off. “Eh, it's not the first time someone's told me that. Seems I have one of those faces, ya know?” He ended with small laugh. “But, you're right. I'm not from around here. I live in the city and I needed to get away. Thinking about trying the small town life. James Tiberius, but most people call me Jim.” At the realization of what he said, Jim blinked.

He planned on getting away from L.A.; since when was he considering not going back?

The kid laughed, cutting through his revelation, and the knot that was forming inside of him started to dissipate. “Yeah, that happens. Oh, I'm Pavel Chekov, by the way. Wish I lived in the city. Don't get me wrong, it's nice here, but it gets boring. Hopefully I won't be here too much longer.”

“Oh?”

He gave an enthusiastic nod, his curls bouncing with the movement. It seems that Jim found a good topic. “Da! I hope to be an actor someday; theater, big screen, I don't care. I'm trying to save up enough money to move down to L.A.”

Christ Almighty! If he got through this...

He picked up his coffee and took a sip before saying, “Acting? Wow! That's a tough business to break out in.”

Pavel shrugged, sloshing the coffee around in the pot, but Jim felt that nothing could dull this kid's cheery disposition. “True, but I think it will be worth it in the end. Well, Jim, I'll give you a few moments to figure out what you want,” he said with another smile before heading over to check on the other patrons.”

The hour that Jim spent at Yorktown turned out to be time well spent in the end. He got the best breakfast platter of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast, and Pavel told him all about the area.

From the time of it's founding to the modern day, Millhaven was a logging town. So much so that every resident has either worked for Enterprise – the local logging and milling company – or has a family member who has. They used to go all over, felling trees and causing a stir in the local wildlife conservation community. That all changed five years ago when the old owners got ousted – due to skimming money and dumping waste – and gained new owners who wished to be more eco friendly. These days they worked in tandem with the DNR and local park services.

“My family moved here from Russia when I was a baby. They wanted a new start and felt the small town was the perfect place for it,” Pavel admitted as Jim worked his way through the stack of syrup soaked pancakes. “When I got older, I joined my Papa at the mill, but it just wasn't for me.”

Instead he had gotten a job here, at a newly opened Yorktown. The owner, a Miriam Paris, was a local who had moved to New York when she got married, but returned after the death of her husband. The restaurant was started in his memory, a dream of theirs that always got shoved to the side.

“Her husband would be pleased,” was Jim's response.

It was proof, all proof, that the small town was thriving. The logging, the restaurant, the new greenhouse, and all the people gravitating to the town was proof that there was something here to be found. In L.A., there was something as well, but it was all a jumbled mess. It was smothering; everything and everyone piled on top of each other in the heavy city air and harsh memories.

Here, Jim felt like he was breathing for the first time. Originally, he had planned to just stay a few days; plot out his next move and become a modern day nomad for a while. The more Pavel talked about Millhaven, the more Jim's intrigue grew. Maybe his subconscious was onto something.

“There's new apartment buildings?” Jim pushed his plate to the side and leaned forward onto the table.

“Da,” Pavel chirped. “Just west of here on the edge of town. They aren't big buildings; they only house four apartments each, but there are two buildings done and third is nearing completion. Of course there's also two old brick buildings in town that have been converted into apartment buildings. I believe there are still a few openings.”

An idea began to form in his head. “I think I might look into those. Do you know who I should contact?”

“Da!” He dashed over to the counter and scribbled something down on a piece of paper before darting back and handing over the page. “Here! He does the real estate for the county, but his office is just around the corner. The apartments in town belong to the building owners.” He pointed to the names.

He read over the numbers and slipped it in his pocket. “I'll definitely look into those. Thanks,” he said with an easy smile.

The kid glanced down and shrugged. “Don't mention it. You need the help and I was happy to give it.”

Jim asked about a few other places in town before handing over cash to pay for his meal. When Pavel went to attend to some new customers, Jim left a ten on the table for him before waving good-bye to the kid.

☼

The only thought running through his mind was 'nap', but Jim's day was far from done as he wrestled his bags of goodies through his room door. He decided to forgo seeing the realtor today – although he did call and make an appointment for tomorrow, but snack and warm clothes shopping was a necessity.

As was finally calling Nyota.

He dumped the bags on the floor and unplugged his phone. Flopping down on the bed, he ignored the 30 missed messages and tapped on his agent's name.

She answered on the first ring.

“JAMES TIBERIUS KIRK WHAT THE HELL!!!!”

Wincing, he ripped the phone away from his ear.

“First of all: ow! You don't have to yell!”

“I don't have to yell??? I DON'T HAVE TO YELL???? JIM, NO ONE'S HEARD FROM YOU IN DAYS!! PEOPLE ARE THINKING YOU'RE DEAD!! I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO YELL RIGHT NOW!”

“Well, you're talking to me now so can we cut the yelling??”

“...Will you promise to not go radio silent on us again,” she snipped.

Jim sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

“Good. I'm holding you to that. Now, what the hell, Jim?”

He threw an arm over his eyes and squeezed them shut as tight as he could, the dance of colors a good block from memories. “You saw the news, the photos. You know what happened.” He paused for a few moments, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do they really think I died?”

Her sigh sounded through the phone. “I did. And that's the media, Jim. You know how they are.”

“Yeah.” He knew better than most.

“Which is why I want to hear your story.”

And this was what he was trying to avoid.

“I know...”

“...And??”

“I've – uh – been trying not to think about it.”

“...Do Spock and I need to come over and help you process it?”

He squirmed on the bed.

“Umm, about that...”

“Jim...” Her voice took on a dangerous edge. “What did you do?”

“I'm...ya know...sort of...not in L.A.”

“Where 'not in L.A.' are you?”

“If I tell you are you going to track me down and drag me back to that shitty city with it's shitty people?”

“Jim...”

“Then, no, I'm not going to tell you.”

“Jiiim!”

“Nyyyy!”

“Jim, be serious.”

“I am serious, Ny!” He pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I...I need some time and I can't get that there.” The 'where they are' was left out, but they both new it was implied.

“So you just ran?”

He sat up on the bed. Is she serious right now? “No! I didn't just run! I spent FOUR DAYS in hell after I had that SHIT dumped on me! Four days, Nyota! And do you know the real kicker?”

Oh, the flood gates had opened.

And there was no dam for the tidal wave.

“I found out from a fucking pap who cornered me outside a Trader Joes!”

She gasped. “No!”

“Oooooh, yes!” He clenched his fist to stop the shaking. The photos re-burning themselves into his eyelids. “And then it was everywhere no matter where the fuck I was.”

“Shit, Jim. I'm sorry.”

He flopped back and pressed his fist into his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah. So, I left. I packed a bag, rented a car, and drove until I got to this tiny-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“Has it helped?”

“I don't know; I haven't given myself a chance to really think about it.” At least, not willingly.

Nyota was silent for a moment. “Do you think it will help?”

He let his arm drop back to the bed and stared up at the white ceiling. “I don't know.”

She gave another sigh. “Do you promise not to let this drag on?”

“I won't let that happen.” Maybe. Delaying it sounds very nice.

“Good. Then just keep us updated.”

In that case..

“...Then I guess I should tell you that I'm gonna get a place here.”

“JIM!”

...to be continued

Part Three

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Permanent Tags: @wonders-of-the-enterprise @feelmyroarrrr @igiveupicantthinkofausername @trustno1inapt221b

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[wierdogal]

Lingering Pain (Final Chapter)

Summary: Takes place between Intervention Pt. 3 and Aftermath (2x1 and 2x2). Dr. Nicholas Rush was fine. Sure he was tortured for who knows how long by the Lucian Alliance. But he had important things that occupied his mind with Destiny and the people on it in danger. But now that things have calmed down…the pain lingered.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6,  Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9 [FFN]  [AO3]

Chapter 10

"What do you mean I asked you to?" asked Rush and suddenly they were in some sort of- Rush's eyes widened. "This is-"

"The bridge," finished Gloria. "The bridge on board Destiny."

Rush looked around in disbelief...or rather he was trying to look at anything else besides the image of his deceased wife standing right in front of him. This has happened before...when he first say on the chair and he had relived the moment of her death. It had destroyed him during the first time, nearly made him insane the second...he couldn't stand a third instance of saying goodbye…

"You've been trying to figure out how to access most of Destiny's systems...here you can do that," explained the image of his wife as she motioned with her hand to the bridge. "As for the earlier encounter…well I wanted to learn from what you have experienced."

"Learn what exactly?" asked Rush his voice barely above his whisper. He just couldn't look at her...it was too much.

"How to help," replied Gloria and her tone made Rush look up and he as swallowed in her gaze, feeling his heart warm a little because this was Gloria looking at him with concern. Gloria, his wife, who had always worn that look whenever he skipped meals or forgot where his bed was and was found unconscious in his study floor. "Let me help you, Nicholas."

"No, please," began Rush, finding the will to turn his back to her. "Use anyone else, hell I'll take Kiva just please don't-"

"But this is the person you've been seeking," she replied and Rush had to fight with everything he could to stop the tears from falling. "She is the key in curing you of the device's effects."

"She is dead," said Rush, no longer being able to hold back the tears. He turned to look at her, at Gloria and he swallowed. "You are dead and I have no one...I have nothing left, Gloria." He paused and took a breathe. "A part of me died with you...and I don't know if I can-"

"The past is a reminder of things that have happened," she began and Rush looked at her puzzled. "Things that have made us stronger, mistakes we are now wary not to repeat, and experiences that have made us who we are."

She paused and walked over to him, a hand on his cheek, brushing away the tears. "Those were your words earlier, Nicholas. Why can't you follow your own advice?"

"Because you were always my strength, Gloria," confessed Rush, leaning towards her touch, or what he fooled himself to be her touch. "Without you, I'm nothing.."

"Then let her be your strength once again," she replied. "The memory of her, the love you shared...those memories, those experiences are far stronger than anything that the Lucian Alliance device could have planted in your brain-"

"The hurt?" countered Rush. "I'd rather suffer that torture than remember how my heart shattered when you died, Gloria...I'd rather relive Kiva and her taunts than remember that you are no longer here...that I failed you." The last part was barely said as Rush cried out as he remembered that day...the worst day of his life.

He meant it...he'd rather be stuck reliving Kiva's torture than remembering Gloria...because it didn't just bring back the feeling of loss. Remembering Gloria was also remembering how he had failed her, the guilt of not being able to help her, the knowledge that she had deserved better...that she should be the one alive and not him.

"Do you really wish to forget?" she asked, and Rush found himself looking at her, drowning in her eyes like she was really and truly there, helping him in a way that he never could for her. "Is that really what you want?"

"What I want…" began Rush, his voice shaking. "Is for you to be here...for Gloria to be alive."

When the consoles started coming back to life, Brody and Eli sprang into action.

"We're regaining access to the systems we've had before," declared Eli, working quickly on his console.

"Try getting energy back to the FTL drive and living areas," ordered Young.

"Already on it," said Eli. "Energy for the living area and atmosphere is back to normal levels."

"Try getting energy levels for the shield and FTL drive to normal levels," raised Brody. "Try with the reserves. I'll try getting from the chair."

"But if you interrupt the energy from the Chair wouldn't that put Rush in danger?" asked TJ who was looking over the scientists' vitals.

"Unless I shut it down, no," explained Brody. "The chair uses energy when someone is sitting on it, and even when that happens, it doesn't use that much."

"What?" asked TJ and Young in disbelief.

"Then why shift the power there to begin with?" asked TJ.

"To entice us...or mainly to entice Rush," offered Brody with a shrug.

"Are you telling me that the ship shifted power to the chair because it knew we would have Rush sit on it to get access to the ship's power?" asked Young, giving both Eli and Brody a hard look.

"It's an Ancient old ship with predetermined programming that predates any of us...hell might even pre-date our own planet," said Eli. "I wouldn't put that pass the ship."

"Why?" asked Young, looking back to the man sitting on the chair. "Why force Rush to sit in the chair?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Colonel," replied Brody. "Especially since the information transfer is still one sided...meaning Destiny is learning from Rush."

They were seated in the gardens just like Rush and Gloria had done countless times, just watching everything go by...leaning into one another's presence.

Rush didn't know how long they've been sitting there but he could tell it was for a long time now...what was happening to the outside world of the simulation? Was everyone still alive? Did they manage to redirect power to the ship's systems?

"It's not because they used it often," came her voice, startling Rush out of his thoughts.

"I beg your pardon," said Rush, looking at her.

"You don't have to be formal with me, Nicholas," she replied with a smile and Rush couldn't force himself to return the gesture. She still wore Gloria's face and it was still too much for him to bear. When he didn't reply, she continued. "What's happening to you...it's not because Kiva had used the Pulser on you more often than others."

"How do you know?" asked Rush, at least their topic of conversation was slightly a safe area, a topic he could discuss.

"I've been studying the workings of your mind since you sat on the chair," she replied. "Based on your neural pathways, the effect of the Pulser on you is different not because it was used on you too often and you didn't take the time to rest."

"Why then?" asked Rush.

"It's because the Pulser's signal of pain latched onto something...a lingering pain already present," she explained and he didn't like where the conversation was heading. "A lingering pain from a broken heart."

Rush turned away and he heard her sigh...he wasn't even sure if she was breathing or not but maybe the ship was trying to act like a human to get a response from him.

"Please don't-"

"You're not helping yourself, Nicholas," she began. "You know how the solution to this."

"It's hard…" Rush admitted, still not looking at her. Why did it have to take the form of Gloria? Why couldn't be Franklin or anyone else? Why did it have to be her?

"Her memory isn't defined by that last moment, Nicholas" she reasoned. "Or is that the only thing you see? Your time together was nothing more than hurt and-"

"No!" exclaimed Rush, turning to look at her, taking her hands into his. "Don't even think that, Gloria!"

"Then why?" she asked and Rush couldn't believe he had more tears to shed.

"Because like I said," he began. "I died that day as well...I don't know how to live without you Gloria...I'm lost without you."

"But you're not without me," said Gloria, putting one of her hands over his chest. "I'm always with you, Nicholas. I've always been with you." She paused and Rush let himself fall into her arms, swallowing him in a hug as he sobbed. "Let me be your strength once again. Let me save you from this pain."

Rush hugged her tighter as his sobs continued. The pain from his time with the Lucian Alliance...the pay he was reliving for the past few days...they were nothing compared to the pain he had felt when she died...when he would remind himself how he had failed her, how he had lost her…

"I love you, Gloria," whispered Rush between sobs. "I'm so sorry I failed you…"

The lights in the chair room brightened and both Eli and Brody's eyes widened as they studied their separate consoles.

"It's back," whispered Eli in relief. "Everything we've been doing with the ship, all the systems, the protocols...everything's back!"

TJ and Young both sighed in relief. "David, we've got control of the ship once again."

"Copy that," replied Telford. "I'll be sending everyone back to their rooms."

Let's be cautious first," added Young. "Camille, maybe just let everyone rest after the day we've had...any other activities, use of power or whatever else people do on this ship be put on hold until we've had 24 hours of peace."

"Understood," replied Camille. "I'll meet you there."

Young didn't clarify, he knew what she meant. Young turned to TJ who nodded. "Greer, Scott, report to my location."

"Copy that," came both Scott's voice.

Young turned to the members of the Science Team. "Any chance of just pulling him out?"

"Not if you want him in one piece," replied Brody. "The flow of information shifted to equal distribution a few minutes earlier...Rush learning from the ship and the ship learning from him…"

"And how long until he comes out of it?" asked Young. "The last time was a few hours...is it safe to say it'll be the same this time around?"

"Your guess is as good as ours," said Eli.

"There has to be a way to know what's going on," said Young.

"Other than the physical signs...there's nothing else...well except maybe if the ship suddenly stops and loses power again," said Eli and he regretted his words as everyone glared at him. "Sorry, not the best choice of words."

"Look, Colonel," began Brody. "You're just going to have to trust Rush."

"I trust Rush with keeping the ship running," said Young. "I don't trust him to look after himself. The man would rather work than sleep...he doesn't give a damn about his wellbeing."

He paused and eyed everyone else in the room. "The ship is back and running...do you honestly think he'd work hard to make sure he came out in one piece?" He turned to Brody. "You were there when he got out of bed just after having surgery...just so he could go back to work and fix the ship."

"Colonel," began TJ and this got Young to stop. "This just has us back to what was asked earlier...do you trust Rush?"

Young sighed and turned to the man still sitting on the chair.

"I do," replied Young. "I really do...it's just-"

"We're all worried," said TJ so that he wouldn't have to. "But this is Rush we're talking about." Turning to catch the eye of everyone else in the room. "I don't think, as you've said Colonel, that he'll let a chair of all things kill him."

They were back on the bridge.

Rush sat on what he concluded was the command chair of the ship and just watched the stars go by as Destiny shifted to FTL.

"I always thought that studying the Ancients was they key," he began, watching the universe go by. "That they were advanced enough to have found a cure for any disease…"

"In the end that was a useless endeavor," he stood and walked over to one of the front consoles, leaning on a pillar. He turned to see the image of his wife sitting in the chair he had just vacated. "Why did you give me the location of the Bridge?"

"You've earned it," she replied. "After everything you've been through..." She paused and eyed him intensely. "But with your new found knowledge of Destiny...that won't be enough to cancel the effects of the Pulser...it needs a far stronger counter. Multitudes of information will always be a grain of salt compared to a powerful memory."

"I know," replied Rush, looking back at the view.

"I think it's time for you to join your crew, Nicholas," she said. "You have your answers...the riddle of the master code and your solution to your pain." She paused and Rush turned to find himself alone. "What you do with that knowledge is up to you."

Rush sighed and just watched the stars going brighter and let himself go…

Eli wanted to bet that if the ship wasn't made by Ancients, the colonel would have already paced a hole straight through the floor.

So far everything was ok ship wise, power was back, no more sudden cold spots and sudden vented atmosphere. Everything was actually going back to normal...except for the fact that their main expert was still connected to the ship and was maybe still having living nightmares of his torture with the Lucian Alliance.

But, Eli guess, that could be what normal life was living in an Ancient ship travelling the depths of the expanding universe. Each day was an adventure...and frankly that was the norm.

Camille had arrived after making sure everyone else was either sleeping or not causing any trouble. Telford had been with her but had retired when he saw that he couldn't do much and frankly Telford never really cared about Rush and Eli didn't see the purpose of his presence.

Scott and Greer were outside, waiting to help in case Rush needed to be rushed to the infirmary...which was why TJ was stood by the scientist's side ready for anything, because any moment he could either come out of the chair unscathed or worse.

Eli turned to Brody who was focused on the console displaying the transfer of information from Rush and the ship. He'd been still for so long that Eli wanted to ask if he was ok. But before he got any words out, Brody's eyes widened and he was suddenly typing away at his console.

"Brody?" asked Camille, noticing the scientist.

"The transfer stopped," announced Brody. "I don't-"

He was cut off by a sound of a machine winding and they all turned in time to see the chair's temple electrodes disengaged from Rush and scientist slowly blinked his eyes open.

Young was immediately kneeling in front of him. "Rush?"

Rush tried to blink away the disorientation he was feeling and he turned to look at everyone in the room as awareness returned to him. "The ship?"

Young sighed and found himself smiling as he placed a hand on the scientist's shoulder. "Back to normal."

"Or as normal was we can get," added Camille with a relieved smile. "You did it."

"What about the other problem?" asked TJ and Rush turned to her.

"That I don't know...yet," confessed Rush, the strength returning to his voice.

"Well then you'll have no arguments if I keep you in the infirmary for observation," sad TJ, using her best medic voice and glare which did not earn her any objection from the man.

"I'll go along without any arguments," began Rush as he slowly got to his feet. He wobbled and Young had to steady him to prevent the man from collapsing to the floor. He shot Young a grateful look before turning to everyone, even to Scott and Greer who were peering from the door. "I just have to show you something first."

Young couldn't believe his eyes as soon as the door lifted. The man had done it. He actually did it.

"Don't sound too surprised, Colonel," raised Rush with a cheeky grin and Young glared at him, more annoyed at voicing his thoughts than at the man himself.

"This is so cool," said Eli as he all but jumped into the room, looking over the many consoles and finally settling on the view much like the one seen in the Observation Deck. "You don't suppose we can actually say 'Beam me up' and actually have a working Transporter here."

"I'm not like him," said Greer, motioning to Eli. "But I have to admit, that'll be cool."

Young and Rush watched the others fill in and explore the bridge as they leaned on the railings of the upper floor of the bridge.

"This is like a dimly lit sci-fi set," commented Young and he heard Rush chuckle beside him. "Not that I'm glad you shared this to us…"

"Because I wouldn't have under any circumstances," finished Rush for him. "You're right by the way…"

"Then why did you?" asked Young, finally turning to the scientist.

"Look around Colonel," said Rush, not taking his eyes away from the bridge itself. "What do you see?"

"The way to final take control of the ship," answered Young.

"What else?"

"The universe?" tried Young again and Rush snorted.

"And here I thought you actually had a decent brain-"

"Rush," exasperated Young. "Point?"

"The bridge, like any other bridge of a spaceship depiction in our modern media, is depicted to be manned by not just one person," explained Rush, finally turning to look at him.

"It was designed to be manned by a crew," finished Young with a small smile as he shook his head. "Took you a near death experience with the chair to finally get that?"

"Don't push it, Colonel," said Rush, his usual glare in place and Young had to laugh. If that wasn't a sign that things were finally settling down, he didn't know what will.

"And here I thought we were starting to make progress with each other," said Young, making Rush's glare intensify.

"Just because I'm in a sharing mood doesn't mean-"

"That you'll suddenly be a team player and not be a lot of work?" offered Young. "Wouldn't have you any other way Rush." He paused as he studied the scientist. "Besides, if you suddenly become like that, I would suspect you were replaced with an alien."

"My heart swells with your confidence in knowing me versus an alien" replied Rush sarcastically, earning another laugh from Young.

They lapsed into silence as the others discussed the workings of the bridge...that was until Young turned to him once again. "You ever going to share what you saw in there?"

Rush sighed and kept his gaze forward. "Maybe...one day…"

"One day…" echoed Young. He patted the man on the shoulder. "Get some rest, Rush. You've earned it."

"And then what, colonel?" asked Rush. "Ride into the sunset?"

"Well stars technically," offered Young. "You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at."

Rush snorted. "And here I thought we were in trouble."

Rush was sitting up on the infirmary bed as TJ took one last look at him before retiring herself.

"You seem better," said TJ as she finished checking his pulse.

"Getting there," replied as he suddenly became distant. "I doubt I'll eventually get there but it's a process."

TJ nodded and bid him good night but just as she was about to disappear, Rush called back to her.

"Lieutenant," began Rush. "You can ask."

TJ had to smile as she returned by his bedside, leaning on the opposite bed from his. "What was the cure?"

"Thinking of something else more powerful," replied Rush. "We were wrong about the device...it didn't persist because of how often it was used on me...it's because it latched onto a pain already present."

"You've been experiencing lingering pain already?" asked TJ in concern. "Why didn't you mention-"

"It wasn't physical in a sense...I think you'd understand that better than anyone…"

It was said softly that TJ barely heard the words...but as soon as she did, realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that…" began Rush with a sigh, not meeting her gaze. "We tend to try and forget the pain of losing someone we love, only for it to eat us whole...distracting ourselves with work won't help us forget the pain…"

"You only realize that now?" asked TJ with a smile and Rush surprised her by smiling back.

"I know it hurts, Lieutenant," began Rush. "But even if she's dead...she'll always be with you." He paused and finally met her eyes. "She'll always be in your heart."

TJ didn't know if he was referring to her daughter or to his wife or to both of them...his words still rang through and TJ found her hand being held by his as she finally let the tears fall.

The pain will always be there...but the thing was, the people they love and lost will always be there as well. Helping them cope...helping them live.

Author’s Note: And we have come to the end of this fic. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with it until the end. My first plan was to have two different endings, one complying with canon and the other (as obvious from above) not. Instead if you wish it to be canon compliant, just delete the scene before the end with TJ and Rush and it will follow canon. Just imagine Rush heading to the bridge all by himself like in the episode "Aftermath".

I'l be pursuing the Gloria Rush is alive story in a few months, after getting more episodes done. I hope you all stay tuned for that. :) Again, thank you to everyone who has stayed until the end. I'm glad you liked this little fic.