#the youngest wanted me to read him a book (twice!!) and held onto my finger as he looked for plastic eggs outside and he just apsgsiagsskshw

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Dang.

Resurrection day and cc!Tommy’s birthday and a good writing day and getting to spend time with baby cousins?? All on the same day???

[fact-fictionx]

Fear - Benedict Bridgerton

A Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader oneshot. 

A/N: This is a new style of writing for me, but I wanted to write this but didn’t want to become too attached and it end up being a multipart fic when I already have one on the go. 

This is loosely based from this ask I sent (x) 

If you would like to send a prompt (doesn’t have you be x reader, can be any pairing, even a OFC), I’ll try my best to get through them. 

Let me know what you think xx

Dear Benedict,

By the time you read this I’ll be out in society, but right now I am quite frightened of that prospect. I knew mama would not allow me to hold back for another year, but somehow I feel too young. You may laugh, at nineteen I am far older than some of the other young ladies I will debut with, but that does not retract from the idea that I am completely frightened.

Yours, Y/N

**

For Benedict when he was in London it was hard to find solace in his own home. His younger siblings lost now that their father was no longer here. The first year without his father, Benedict Bridgerton spent little time in his own house. Where the second Bridgerton truly found solace was in your house. Your family had lived a few doors down from the Bridgertons for longer than your parents could even remember, the family friendship blooming from the similar ages you and your siblings shared with the eldest four Bridgertons.

Your brothers matched Anthony and Benedict in age, whereas you were two years younger than them and your youngest brother coming only a few months prior to the birth of the third Bridgerton, Colin. Your three brothers and the Bridgerton brothers grew close, leaving you to follow in their footsteps as you grew up between them. You played in the mud at your frequent visits to Aubrey Hall, much to your mothers dismay, and giggled innocence when Anthony and Benedict often bullied each other.

As you grew into a young woman, your friendship with the three Bridgerton boys soon grew apart. You were civil, of course, but you were not permitted to spend as much time with them as before. Instead you learnt the piano and began your journey with terrible embroidery.

After the death of Edmun Bridgerton you sat solemnly playing the piano, it was a sad time for everyone to hear the news, but your heart wretched thinking of the Bridgertons and how they would miss their father. The Bridgerton family didn’t frequent so much at your home, and the dinner invitations stopped, which you expected, but it still didn’t mean you didn’t miss their presence.

One day you sat tinkering away on the piano, piecing together notes and scribbling them down on paper. After a while you fell into the zone, your fingertips caressing the keys as the melody chimed from the instrument. You didn’t notice that Benedict Bridgerton had settled himself into the corner of the room, flipped open his sketch book and started to draw.

When you finally took notice of your surroundings your playing suddenly stopped. Benedict looked up and your eyes caught each other, the young Bridgerton snapping his book shut and jumping up. “I am so sorry, Y/N” he straightened his clothes, you noticed that his eyes were heavy, his hair disheveled and his skin sallow. You had seen grief affect people this way, and you knew that if you could give him some sort of respite from it, you would let him sit for as long as you wanted.

“Don’t be Benedict, you can stay,” you smiled politely. With a nod and a look of thanks, Benedict sat back down and opened his book.

From then on you often found yourself alone with Benedict, he pottering away in his sketchbook and you practicing the pianoforte. Your parents did not care, you were both young and friends. You began to share dinners at both households, and you watched Benedict blossom from the grief he was feeling into a fine young man.

After a few months your silence grew into conversations, something odd you had read in the paper, or a piece of gossip you had heard from a maid about another high strung household. Soon, you and Benedict became friends.

When he left to study in Oxford, you felt lost, alone. But you continued to enhance your own studies, practice the piano and continue with your terrible endeavour of embroidery. When Benedict came back for the first summer your heart burst, the Bridgerton’s crooked smile making you feel warm inside, it was then you knew that you were in completely in love with him.

It was at nineteen your mother finally put her foot down on you postponing your coming out another year, and you were well and truly frightened. Penning the letter to Benedict was difficult, you knew there was little he could do. By the time he received it and responded, there could be a chance you would be engaged to marry another man. A life without Benedict was a life you weren’t sure you wanted to live, but Benedict didn’t know the feelings you had for him, to him it was just a friendship.

Your first ball was a complete nightmare. You stepped on the toes of two gentlemen, and accidentally threw a drink down another. Completely mortified you tried your very best to persuade your mother to let you miss the next one, but when Violet Bridgerton insisted that she came to the ball with you, your mother practically dragged you out of the door.

“You see dear,” Violet spoke as you walked around the room with your arm hooked in hers, “People will forget about your first ball, if you fascinate them at another.” You were completely confused by the statement Violet said, how could you fascinate anyone? You were a mumbling wreck when a man approached, completely unaware of what was appropriate to talk about. To be quite perfectly honest, you had expected to feel the same comfort with the man you were to marry as you did with Benedict Bridgerton, but you were not quite sure you could find that.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Anthony Bridgerton spoke as he approached you, he stopped gently in front of you and tipped his hand forward, you stared at his hand for a moment before realising that Anthony Bridgerton was not just a friend anymore, he was a Viscount and you were now a lady, you had to treat him as such. “Lord Bridgerton,” you curtseyed slightly, feeling a rush of embarrassment wind through your body as you placed your gloved hand in his, his lips brushing slightly on your knuckles, a mischievous wink coming from him as he stood back up. You furrowed your eyes at the man who you knew far too much about and wondered what he was doing.

“Care for this dance?” He asked, not letting go of your hand. “Of course…” Your words were drawn in curiosity, unsure why Lord Bridgerton would dance with you after the gossip that had very quickly spread after the last time.

As you stood in Anthony’s hold you relaxed slightly, Anthony Bridgerton had no intentions of making you his wife, you were completely sure of that after watching him sneak back into Bridgerton house at the early hours of the morning, his cravat crooked and his hair a complete and utter mess. Anthony Bridgerton had made it well known that he did not intend to marry just yet. “You are not a bad dancer,” Anthony muttered as they circled the floor, “You flatter me, Lord Bridgerton,” you chuckled in his hold, his hand firmly on your back as he led you, “Why are you doing this?” You asked, your gaze focusing back onto the eldest Bridgerton. “Truth?” he raised his eyebrows, “Nothing but,” you responded, “Mother,” he said dryly, “She wanted me to help you attract some attention,” he added, “Oh and here I thought you had every desire to dance with me,” you gave him a wry smile as your eyebrow cocked. “You do not desire to dance with me?” Anthony asked back, his eyebrow cocked in amusement, “You are the wrong Bridgerton,” you sighed slightly before gasping as you realised the words that tumbled from your mouth. You felt Anthony chuckle in your hold and you met his eyes in desperation for him not to speak a word to anyone else, “Oh dear, Y/N, everyone knows but Benedict, and everyone knows that he is in love with you, but you.” Anthony smirked, “Anthony Bridgerton, do not dare play with my feelings.” You scolded him, not caring about formalities in such a situation. “But I am not, I believe our mothers have a bet on, but I try to not believe ladies with such high esteem bet,” his smirk was a constant on his face as he pulled from the hold and bowed as the music ended.

Sleep failed to dawn on you that evening, you could not stop playing the words Anthony said over and over in your head. Completely aghast at the fact your own mothers had bet on you and Benedict, you feared bringing the subject up with your mother incase Anthony Bridgerton was telling a lie, which you did slightly suspect.

The next morning you sat in the drawing room, your fingers delicately pressing over the piano keys as your mother sat completing her most recent needlework endeavour. Tea had been brought up by the maids, along with an array of sweets and biscuits. You were doubtful that any suitors would call, after your dance with Anthony you only danced twice more. They weren’t as eventful as your first ball, this time you didn’t step on their toes or spill a drink down them, but you were too consumed in your own thoughts to have an even legible conversation with them.

The butler walked into the room announcing himself with a cough, causing both you and your mother to snap your heads to the doorway. “Lord Stanley for Miss Y/L/N,” your heart skipped a beat. You were not sure you had ever conversed with a Lord Stanley, but someone had come to see you and it filled you with giddiness and nerves.

As Lord Stanley walked in you were completely taken aback by his presence. His blonde hair shone in the morning sun that filtered through the window, his jaw was strong and you were sure his ocean blue eyes were piercing you from across the room. He held a bouquet of flowers and your heart fluttered at the first flowers you had received as a gift. Standing up abruptly you curtseyed to Lord Stanley before guiding him to sit down.

Lord Stanley was filled with humour, he made you giggle uncontrollably and as you spoke he looked directly into your eyes, listening intently to what you said. When he left you glided across to the piano with a smile on your face, but as soon as you sat down your thoughts shifted and you couldn’t help but compare him to Benedict. Benedict was funny, his humour nuanced, he didn’t just watch you as you spoke, he actively listened and hung onto every word, asking questions to find more meaning, but he also knew when silence was needed.

After a week, one ball and two occasions of promanading with Lord Stanley the whole of the Ton was abuzz with the idea that you would marry. You could anticipate a proposal of marriage coming soon, Lord Stanely had visited your father a few days ago thinking you hadn’t noticed. Your heart wretched as you thought of Benedict, wondering if waiting for him would be a good idea, or if you should accept Lord Stanley and start a life with him. Marrying Lord Stanley meant that Benedict would no longer be your neighbour, you would move to the north and only visit London on the occasion. The Bridgerton family a distant memory that you would only say hello to when you brushed by them in the ballroom.

As you prepared for the evening's ball you looked through the mirror at your Lady’s Maid, Anna. “Should I marry Lord Stanley?” you asked with a sigh, your eyes connecting with the brunette as she dressed your hair, “I do not think that’s a decision I should make, miss,” Anna responded, you swallowed, trying to think of the answer yourself. Every time you thought of marriage with Lord Stanley your mind switched to Benedict. Your dreams were filled with Benedict the closer you to Lord Stanley.

Lord Stanley was a perfect gentleman, and everything you would have wanted in a man, and you were sure he would be faithful and give you a perfect life. But perfect did not mean happy. You dreamed of a love match, after hearing stories of Edmund and Violet as you grew up you wished to have what they had. Your parents loved each other, of course they did, but when they married it was from necessity and they grew to love each other.

On his return to London all Benedict heard about was the impending marriage between you and Lord Stanley. It ate him up to think about you with someone else, but what more could he expect. He clutched his response to your letter in his hand, it had been sat in his desk for weeks waiting to be sent, but he couldn’t bring himself to send it, to potentially risk everything.

Benedict was dragged from the house soon after he had arrived, thankful that his mother and Anthony had given him enough time to change from his travelling clothes to something much more suited for a ball. The Bridgerton family had arrived early, but people had begun to filter into the room, the musicians playing soft accompanying music that did not really warrant anyone dancing. Standing at the refreshment table Benedict spoke to his brother, sipping at the dire lemonade that had been served.

“So who is this Lord Stanley?” Benedict attempted to be smooth in his question to his brother, but from the look on Anthony’s smirk he was far from smooth, “Him,” Anthony pointed at a tall blonde who waited with a slight eagerness at the bottom of the stairs, “He seems nice,” Anthony shrugged, “Completely enamoured with Y/N, there’s rumours that tonight he will ask her for her hand, word has gone round that he always has her father’s permission,” Benedict’s heart dropped in his chest.

Looking at the entrance to the ballroom Benedict’s heart thumped in his chest, he knew he had been gone the best part of a year, but he hadn’t expected to be completely speechless when he laid his eyes on the most beautiful woman.

As you entered the room by your mothers side, you smiled at the guests as you walked through with apprehension. It was not news to you that Lord Stanley was going to ask you tonight, and you still were not sure how you would answer. Scanning the room your eyes met Lord Stanley’s briefly, giving him a polite smile before continuing to roam the room. Your throat clamped shut and your heart began to thump in your chest as your eyes met with Benedict’s, you had not heard from him since you sent your letter, you had not expected to see him tonight.

Gulping with an overwhelming sense of anxiety, you fell from your mothers hold and shuffled through the crowd, finding an escape in the library of the house. Reaching the safety of the silent library you began gasping for air as the tears pricked at the back of your eyes wishing to escape. Benedict was here, Benedict would know of the engagement soon after it happened, Benedict would be in and out of your life in just mere minutes if you were going to say yes. Benedict, the man you were completely certain you loved for the last few years was here and you were due to be betrothed to another man. Your father had already given him permission, there was no doubt a discussion of you dowry. For all intents and purposes, you had been signed off to Lord Stanely. A lot would have to happen if Lord Stanley and your father were willing to let you say no.

Turning in your panicked state you gasped as you saw Benedict Bridgerton looking at you with what seemed to be a thousand different emotions.

“Benedict.” You whispered, your heart skipping a beat as the Bridgerton bounded across the room to meet you. His arms wrapped around you in an embrace that made all the fear and panic escape from your body, in his arms you felt safe. “Y/N,” he whispered as he pulled from the embrace, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he held you at arm's length. You looked at him with apprehension, your heart pounding against your chest as if it were trying to escape. “Are you going to marry him?” he asked, his eyes filled with sorrow as the words fell from his mouth.

Your lips opened to answer Benedict, but you truly did not know the answer. Your heart belonged to him, but you did not know where his heart lay.

“I responded to your letter,” Benedict broke the silence, “I did not receive it,” you added, confusion riddled in your voice as your mind continued to ruminate on Benedict’s first question. “I-I didn’t send it.” Benedict stuttered slightly, his hand reaching into his waistcoat and pulling out a folded letter. You could see your name scribbled on the front, the letter had been scrunched and crinkled numerous ways, no longer the pristine piece it once was. “Here.” Benedict whispered, handing the letter to you and stepping back.

You stared at the paper in silence, your breathing heavy and your mouth agape as you looked at your name written in Benedict's hand. You had seen this many times over the years, your mind knew his penmanship better than your own, and yet seeing your name written by him at this very moment made your stomach twist. With a deep breath you broke the wax seal and began to read.

Dear Y/N,

I cannot imagine the fear that is running through your mind, but I am sure you will stun many gentlemen on your debut.

I must admit that I am in fact very jealous that I cannot be there to see you, and I cannot fathom the thought of you playing the piano for anyone but I.

I miss the time we would spend in your family library, me sketching and you playing harmonious melodies throughout the afternoon. The laughter we shared and the complete comfort I felt in your presence.

The gentleman in me wants to wish you well, wants you to have numerous gentleman callers and to be whisked off your feet with gifts and poetry, but right now Y/N, I cannot be a gentleman.

To imagine you with another man is abhorrent, I do not want to wish you well. All I want you to do is to wait for me.

Yours, Benedict.

A tear trickled down your cheek as you looked up and met Benedict’s pleading gaze. “Ben,” you whispered, your eyes running over the words once again, his heartfelt plea in his writing, his face filled with hurt as he looked at you, waiting for an answer, wondering if he had been too late, if he should have sent the letter as soon as he wrote it and maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t be in the situation where he would have to see you marry another man.

“I did not know you felt this way,” you wiped the tear from your face and sniffed back any ones that threatened to fall, folding the letter in your hand you looked at Benedict who stepped forward again. As he closed the gap between you two, your attempts to stop your tears failed, a singular tear rolling down your cheek. Benedict caught it with his thumb, his hand lingering on your cheek. “I was unsure of your feelings,” Benedict whispered, his eyes fluttering around your face, trying to find the answer. “I am quite sure I have always loved you, Benedict Bridgerton.” you whispered. You watched how his eyes glistened with happiness as the words fled your mouth.

Before you knew it, Benedict had crushed his lips onto yours, his arms wrapped around your wait to pull your body into his. You moulded into his embrace, feeling his warm lips on yours as you reacted to his touch, your hands grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket to keep yourself steady whilst simultaneously keeping him connected to you. It was all you had ever dreamed of and more, his touch was soft but passionate, it was like years of feelings had burst free and you were no longer hiding.

“I suppose that makes me the winner, mother.” Anthony’s voice carried through the room, disrupting you and Benedict in your embrace. You pulled out sharply, stumbling back as a gasp escaping your lips as you had been caught. Anthony and Violet Bridgerton stood at the entry looking on, Anthony had a smirk on his face whilst Violet wore a shocked expression. “I won't tell your mother what I saw, but you two will not be allowed alone again until you are married,” Violet said sternly, not impressed that her son had just been improper with a lady. “But what about Lord Stanley?” you asked, your lips tingling from Benedict’s touch, your heart racing and your mind a complete haze. “He went to ask your father a few nights ago, in which he said to ask you, which I believe was your mothers doing, she wasn’t going to force you into anything,” Violet smiled before turning away. “Told you the bet was true,” Anthony winked at you, before gesturing for you and Benedict to leave immediately.

[avaria-revallier]

A dragons wish Chapter 6

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The dwarrows hadn’t moved an inch since Bilbo had left the forges running after Ruby. They stood around the cushion-castle the little girl had built, like fierce guards made of stone, staring into space. He stopped, right in front of Balin, frantically trying to catch his breath.

“The… The dragon! It was huge. A gigantic beast! Even larger than I ever dared to imagine,” he huffed.

Instantly he had their attention. The dragon was real, and very much alive. A cold shudder ran down the hobbit’s spine. The whole situation had just drastically changed.

The eyes of the company simultaneously shifted from Bilbo to Thorin. The king hadn’t said a word so far, in fact he hadn’t shown any kind of reaction since the young girl had left them in a hurry.

“Thorin?” Balin tried it again.

He didn’t react, didn’t move. Thorin just stared into the empty hallway where Ruby had vanished not long ago.

Ruby!

“It has Ruby,” Bilbo whispered in horror.

Just now he remembered the clothes the dragon had in his massive claws. Looking up he could read the same horror in the faces of the dwarrows.

~

Yes, he was their king, and yes he had become a good friend for Bilbo over time, but his behavior was just too much!

Ori sat down next to him, taking a break from barricading the large entrance with massive boulders. The young scribe was by far stronger than he looked. When Bilbo had complimented him for it, Ori had only shyly mumbled something about having it inherited from their mother and that Dori was even stronger.

Glancing to the side he could spot a familiar book in the scribe's hands. The book he had received from Ruby. It was bound in leather and rather plain looking. There were no golden ornaments or embedded jewels on the cover.

Thinking back, the hobbit hadn’t seen any fancy jewelry or other valuable things on or near Ruby. The braids in her hair were held together by wooden clips and beads, she hadn’t worn any bracelets, rings or necklaces. Even her clothes looked rather old and had many patches and parts that were repaired.

“What is it about?” the hobbit nodded towards the book, watching the nimble fingers of the scribe caressing the worn pages.

“Stories, it seems, about adventures and magical creatures from faraway places. One is about a young elven woman visiting her grandmother in the dark forest. Sadly the grandmother had been eaten by a warg, which now posed as the grandmother to also eat the young girl. Luckily a ranger comes by, freeing the grandmother as well as the young girl. Which is highly unlikable, but still… I like the happy ending,” clutching the book even harder he stood back up, rejoining his brothers.

Bilbo was the only one who noticed the faint brushing of the young scribe's hands against the rough palm of the warrior as he passed by him.

~

Dwalin sighted. This was not what he had hoped for, not at all. Still, having the little scribe by his side gave him strengths to press on. With a last look on the youngest of the dwarrows he left the front gate to inform his king of the newly arrived visitor.

“Thorin,” upon entering the grand hall of the forges he noticed how the king hastily straightened himself, “we have a guest on our front door.”

Hope sparked up in the blue eyes, but almost instantly died down again as Dwalin lightly shook his head. Thorin’s head dropped, facing the floor. His hand clenched around a silver necklace of some sort, he continued to stare at the floor in front of him.

“Who is it?” Thorin managed to ask after a moment of silence.

The warrior tried to gloss over the amusement in his voice with a khoff. This was really not the time to laugh at the childish reaction of his friend. Still, seeing Thorin, king under the mountain, his brother in arms and on the battlefield sitting in the middle of a cushion castle, surrounded by fluffy blankets, soft cushions and pressing a vibrant pink, flower-shaped cushion against his chest, was rather unsettling and strange.

“Bard the bowman from Lake Town is asking for an audience with you,” the warrior simply answered.

Thorin didn’t react. He hadn’t really moved since Ruby had left and had holed himself up in the forges as soon as the devastating news Bilbo had brought them had gotten through to him fully. Even now he was only staring into the empty hallway, while his fingers fumbled with the strange silver necklace.

Dwalin sighted again. If he hadn’t saized command shortly after Bilbo had returned, who knows what would have happened. Sure, they all were shocked and devastated at the horrible news of the dragon returning and taking the wee lass with him, still, Thorin was their king, their leader. The warrior hadn’t seen his friend like this since Frerin had gone missing. Enough was enough! There was a pile of work left and Dwalin was rather sick of it.

“Thorin, you are my king and friend. I respect that you are…” not sure how to describe the sight he saw before him Dwalin coughed again and continued on, “You will come with me and if I have to drag you there myself. You ought to be king and welcome our kin not long from now, so behave like one!”

~

Bombur nearly choked on the bite he had just taken from the large sandwich Bifur had brought them all. Hastily he took a large swig of the water he held in his other hand. Blinking twice the cook realized that this was no daydream or illusion at all. There was Dwalin, which was nothing out of the ordinary, striding down the hallway and dragging something behind him.

Only after looking a second time he identified the thing as a person, huddelt into a fluffy blanket and clutching a bright pink and flower-shaped cushion as their king. The glare thorin gave him was not to be misunderstood. Still, how was anyone able to take their leader seriously after seeing him like this ?!

Shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth he poked Bifur in the back. The old warrior spun around and the axe in his head gleamed in the low light. Letting loose a wave of rapid Khuzdul he picked up a pebble and threw it across the hallway at Gloin, who was currently talking to Balin.

Gloin reacted as expected. Angrily he turned around to look for the person who was responsible for interrupting his chat with the king’s advisor. Before he could utter a curse his eyes locked onto the scene right in front of him. Dwalin, dragging what looked like a pink-reddish lump of clothes behind him towards the main gate. The pebble surely couldn’t have hit him that hard!

Balin on the other side only buried his face in his hands. He was used to seeing his brother doing impulsive and sometimes rather stupid things, as he had always been there to help him out in the end an straighten things out. But this was a first in case of stupidity and impulsiveness. Dwalin had to see how to get out of this mess afterwards all on his own.

~

Bilbo stopped abruptly in his movement. He had rushed to the front gate as soon as the raven had delivered the message that the rest of the company and two other people were making their way towards the mountain. He didn’t want to wait any longer to finally see Bofur again. Surely he would get an ear full, cause he had left his dwarf behind and didn’t wake him in time. But at that time Bilbo was rather fond of the idea to at least assure Bofur to survive the wrath of the dragon.

Bofur, still holding the hobbits hand, was forced to stop as well. Questioning he followed the line of sight of his beloved. With the utmost of his will and control he was able to disguise his laughter as mere coughing. Bilbo’s elbow in his ribs made him turn towards the hobbit again, he also couldn’t contain his wide grin. For the dignified leader of the company to be dragged through his own mountain at that!

Bilbo’s amusement vanished and was replaced with worry and sorrow. For a moment there he had forgotten the reason for the king’s odd behavior. Bofur frowned, there seemed to be more to this situation than they all had let on.

“* Kidhuzel , what is the matter?” concerned he lightly squeezed the hand holding his.

“I’ll tell you the story behind that in a bit,” Bilbo promised him, before moving on.

(*gold of gold)

~

Oin had stayed with Bard and Tauriel to chat some more about medicinal herbs after reassuring himself that the two princes and especially Kili were alright to go on on their own. The elven woman had fussed some more over the dark haired prince, but respected the decision that she would have to wait outside.

Kili still leaned on his older brother even though he tried his best to walk on his own. Facing down he made sure not to trip over anything and to burden Fili any further. Strangely enough the floor was sparkly clean aside from the trail of mud the others must have left behind.

To his own surprise the front gate was almost unscratched and not missing as he had assumed from his uncle's stories. Even more, it was warm inside and the hallways were lit! There was no foul smell of dragon or whatever he might have left behind. It felt almost homely and welcoming. The others had accomplished so much in such a short amount of time! He could do nothing else but be astonished by their capability.

Fili stopped abruptly and nearly let his brother slide from his shoulder. Luckily Kili was quick enough and steadied himself before kissing the floor.

“By the beard of-” looking up, Kili had wanted to lecture his older brother on how to properly handle hurt and ill dwarrows, but stopped himself.

There must be some poison left inside his system, which made him hallucinate once more. No other explanation was reasonable or possible. With his free, left hand he rubbed his eyes. Still there.

Pinching Fili’s arm he tried to wake himself. The immediate response, a light jab in his stomach assured him that this was real.

Not being able to take his eyes off of the unreal scene in front of him he wasn’t able to see the unbelieving look in Filis eyes and how the blond prince's jaw seemed to drop even further.

“Uncle… is that really you?!” Kili was not entirely sure if he was seeing things or if this was reality, but either way, it was hilarious.

He couldn’t wait to write to his mother about it! This would provide them with amusement and embassesment from the king till forever! Fili also seemed to have overcome the shock. Leaning onto his older brother Kili could feel the faint shaking, which got stronger by the second, signing that Fili was trying his best to hold in his laughter.

A sly grin appeared on Kili’s lips. He would certainly have to help his older brother, no? With a hearty jab of his elbow he forced the first prince to break into laughter. Not able to hold in his own amusement he joined in and filled the halls with their voices. Even the deathly glare Thorin was rather known and feared for couldn’t stop them. The pink cushion and the blanket he was wrapped into made him look rather ridiculous than intimidating.

~

“I brought the king.”

Tauriel’s face turned to stone, expressionless as only elves were capable of, while Bard tried his best to keep his mouth shut, the face strangely red as if he had forgotten how to breathe. Confused Oin turned around, the rather worn trumpet in his hand. What was going on?

@jumpingmanatee @tschrist1 @savvy-the-human @ayamenimthiriel @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @animestuff123 @blankethalfling @all-seeing-storm @nightmarewalker @lunasnow20 @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @chocolateintolerant @givashel @shrimpsthings @grunid @swagbearfishturkey @angelic-kisses13 @nickangle13

[a-blue-secret]

CHAPTER XVI

BACK TO THE MASTERLIST

Chapter XV | Chapter XVI | Chapter XVII

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: swearing, slight suggestive content (it’s like 3 words)

WORD COUNT: 4.8k+

AN: This is kinda like a filler chapter, but not really a filler chapter because it explains Taehyun's ability and also gives an insight into Hueningkai's and Yeonjun's jobs so.. yeah. Enjoy!

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

“Oh, that’s right,” Hueningkai said, getting out of his chair to sit next to Taehyun. “I said I’d help you with your ability, right?”

Taehyun sat up. “Oh yeah! Yeah, I remember.”

“Tell me, what was your ability again?”

“Foreign exchange,” Taehyun said. “I’m from the Jeo clan, and their ability is foreign exchange.”

“Hmm… foreign exchange…” Hueningkai pressed his fingers into his temples, and scrunched up his forehead, tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth. Taehyun blinked at him.

“That’s his thinking face,” Yeonjun explained. “Kai here has the most incredible memorisation skills. Anything he memorises gets stored in his brain. Forever.”

“Queen Erajin always made me memorise all the books in the palace for this exact reason,” Hueningkai said, face still scrunched in concentration.

“ All the books?” Taehyun repeated, surprised. “Surely there must be thousands and thousands of books, if it’s a palace?”

Hueningkai hummed in confirmation, pressing his fingers further against the sides of his head. Taehyun let out a disbelieving gasp, sitting back.

“But it’s okay. It only took around five years.”

“Five years?” Taehyun said. “Wow, I guess you guys really did want to become spies.”

Hueningkai opened his eyes, and gave a smile. “It was our only option,” he said softly. He clapped his hands together. “But anyway! I think I’ve read something about the Jeo clan before, but I can’t remember exactly. That’s odd.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It must be a pure Gojongja clan, because we don’t have many records of them in Aruyeo.” He nodded resolutely. “Yeah, that must be it. Otherwise I would have known about them. Taehyun, you guys have records of all the clans that ever existed, right?”

Taehyun nodded. “Yeah. In our Archive. Why?”

“I think if I saw the document about the Jeo clan, it would jog my memory,” Hueningkai said.

“Oh, would you like me to get it for you?” Taehyun asked.

“No, I’ll need to come with you,” Hueningkai said, rising from the bed. Yeonjun started in alarm, and grabbed Hueningkai’s wrist.

“Kai, that’s not safe! Are you sure?” Yeonjun said urgently.

“I’m a spy,” Hueningkai reminded Yeonjun. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll be more cumbersome for Taehyun to carry a large, old document back to our room. Trust me, it’ll be okay.”

Yeonjun pursed his lips, and held tighter onto Hueningkai. “I’ll come with you, then.” When Hueningkai tried to protest, Yeonjun held up a hand. “If anything happens, I’ll put all the blame on me. I don't want you getting hurt.”

Hueningkai looked like he wanted to argue, but sighed, giving a small smile.He patted Yeonjun’s hand, which was still wrapped around his wrist. “Fine, if you insist.” He turned to Taehyun, giving a fake sigh of exasperation. “Older brothers, so overprotective,” he said.

Yeonjun flicked his forehead annoyedly. “Shush. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“See what I mean? Ow! Okay, okay– I’ll stop! Come on Taehyun, lead the way.”

“How are you going to get around without being seen?” Taehyun asked curiously.

“I’m not,” Hueningkai said. “I’ll be walking around, plain as day, but I’ll blend in so invisibly you won’t be able to see me.”

Taehyun blinked, confused, but shrugged. “Okay.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

“Here, the Archive,” Taehyun announced, stopping in front of a metal door protected by five guards. “With a titanium door 11 inches thick and multiple invisible lasers inside, it’s one of the most protected places in our palace.” He glanced at the guards. “Not to mention its excess of guards.”

“How do we get in, then? If it’s that guarded?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun gave a grin. “You forget. I’m the Grand Vizier. I’m allowed practically everywhere.” He nodded at one of the guards, and the guard produced a small key. “Thank you.” Taehyun walked up to the door and inserted the key into an almost invisible keyhole in the metal.

“Hang on, hang on,” Yeonjun said, as the door swung open. Taehyun turned to look at him. “You have all these guards and security, but it can be opened with a single key?”

Taehyun turned back to the door, and pushed the key more forcefully into the lock. The small key seemed to bend, and melted into the metal of the door. There was a green flickering from inside the room: an indication the lasers had been turned off.

“Every time a key is used, it is immediately replaced with a different one,” Taehyun said. “It has a different look, different lock combination, everything. So if someone tries to steal the key, it won’t work on the door because the lock will have already changed.”

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow. That’s… wow. Really?”

Taehyun turned to the guard who had given him the key. The guard showed him a new key, this time rusted and red in colour.

“I don’t know how it works, but it just does,” Taehyun said, shrugging. “Anyway, come on. We don’t have all day.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

“These cabinets on this wall are all full of the records of clans,” Taehyun said, opening one of the many cabinets inside the Archive.

“J will be in the middle,” Hueningkai said. “Come on.”

Taehyun flinched heavily, almost dropping the document he was holding. “Holy– where did you come from?”

Hueningkai quirked a grin. “I was with you the whole time. Did you forget?”

Taehyun clutched his chest, trying to slow his heartbeat. “No, I– I knew you were here, definitely–”

“I told you I could move invisibly,” Hueningkai said, still smiling at Taehyun’s shocked expression. “I didn’t even need to do anything, but I was still invisible. Cool, right?” He walked along the rows of cabinets, and opened one. “Ah, J! So the Jeo clan should be here somewhere…” Rustling of paper filled the room, but when Hueningkai’s head emerged from the drawer he just looked confused.

“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun asked, going over to where Hueningkai was.

“That’s odd,” Hueningkai said, stepping back to let Yeonjun search. “There’s no Jeo clan.”

“Really?” Taehyun said, confused. “I did my own research, and a Jeo clan definitely did exist.”

“The records suggest otherwise,” Yeonjun said, looking through the papers. He looked up. “Is there anywhere else that Gojongja may keep records of clans?”

“All I can think of is the Palace Library, but I know that library inside out–” Taehyun paused, remembering something Scholar Min had told him.

Back when Taehyun had first tried to find out about the explosive, Yoongi had told him that information about them wouldn’t be in a place he’d been to.

"You were looking in the wrong place. Spheres like these-" He rolled the marble in his palm- "aren't something you can access information on easily. They're in the section of the library I doubt you've been to."

"Which part? I assure you, I have been to every section of that library at least twice. I'm sure I know."

Yoongi chuckled. "Well, I assure you , that you have most certainly never been to the place which would hold information about these."

“Wait, Yoongi said something to me before,” Taehyun said. “Do you guys know how to access secret rooms you’ve never been into before?”

Hueningkai patted Yeonjun’s shoulder. “That’s this guy’s speciality.”

“Good. Yeonjun, I think there might be a secret room in the library which holds information about things people don’t look for. Do you think you could find it?”

Yeonjun raised his eyebrow. “Oh really?” He stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles. “I suppose I could give it a try. Let’s get going to the Palace Library.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Yeonjun carefully ran his fingers along the bookshelves, pausing every now and then to peer into the cracks of the wall. Taehyun and Hueningkai followed behind.

“Uh…” Taehyun looked behind him, and almost bumped into Hueningkai. “Does it always take him this long?”

“Shut up,” Yeonjun said. “It’s been a while, okay? Plus, this library is huge.” He straightened up, brushing the dust from his fingertips. “Okay, this isn’t going to work. It’ll take me five years if I do it like this. Though I may have the entire floor plan of Gojongja Palace memorised, I certainly cannot remember all the details of the library. Do you have the blueprints?”

A few short minutes later, Taehyun and Hueningkai were peering over Yeonjun’s shoulder as he eyed the map carefully.

“So? See anything useful?”

“Shh, I need to focus.” Yeonjun brought a finger to his lips, stopping Taehyun from pestering him anymore. “Plus, this is a library. We need to be quiet.”

Suddenly, Yeonjun slammed the map down on the table, yelling triumphantly. “Aha! Here!”

He was quickly shushed by Taehyun. “We’re in a library, we need to be quiet.”

Yeonjun glared at the smirking vizier, taking Taehyun’s hand away from his mouth. “Oh ha ha, very funny. Anyway, how did you not know there was a basement?”

“Huh?” Taehyun looked at the map, scrunching his eyebrows. “Basement?”

Yeonjun traced his finger along the lines, and circled a small indentation in one of the wall drawings. “See here? That means there must be a door. And, since it doesn’t lead to any hallways, there must be a lower layer of the library.”

“I did not know about that,” Taehyun said. “Come on, then! Lead the way!”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Yeonjun rolled his shoulder uncomfortably, massaging his arm. “That door… it was so stiff. Ugh, I’m going to have arm pains now.”

Hueningkai gave a small laugh. “That’s what you get for shoving open the door. I’m pretty sure Taehyun would have had some key to open it.”

“Oh right. Why didn’t you say anything Taehyun?” Yeonjun complained, walking down. “Watch your step, guys. The last stair is really far from the ground.”

After reaching the door, the three of them descended down the stairs into the library basement. Yeonjun turned around in circles.

“Huh. There’s no light. Where are you guys?”

“Pfft– ow, what are you doing?” Taehyun held Yeonjun’s grabby hands away from him to prevent the Aruyeonan from manhandling his face again. “And duh, there’s no light. We’re underground, and we closed the door.”

Suddenly, there was a bright orange glow, and a ball of fire rolled into the center of the room, illuminating their faces. Yeonjun yelped, clinging onto Taehyun.

“Don’t worry, the fire is in the marble,” Hueningkai said. “This is a slow burner. It won’t last forever, but it’ll last long enough for us to find the document.” He pulled some more out of his pockets, and handed them to Taehyun and Yeonjun. “Let’s hurry.”

“These aren’t marbles, they’re footballs,” Taehyun murmured, struggling to hold the glass ball in one hand. “But yeah, let’s get going.”

The three of them separated, looking through the large underground library on their own. While searching for any important documents, Taehyun tutted.

“All I’ve found are erotic novels! What about you guys?” he called.

“Oh good, I’m not the only one! Hueningkai, have you found anything useful?” Yeonjun’s voice sounded to his left.

There was a yelp and the sound of paper dropping. Hueningkai didn’t answer. Taehyun waited, but there was silence. He cursed and hurried toward where the sound had come from.

Coming up to the bright light of Hueningkai’s fire, he saw Yeonjun already there, holding onto a shaken Hueningkai.

“Hyuka, are you okay? Answer me! Hueningkai!” Yeonjun shook Hueningkai, trying to get a response out of him.

“He- I saw him,” Hueningkai whispered, eyes wild. “Him. The lavender blue eyes… It was him Yeonjun, it was him!”

“Who? Who is it?” Taehyun asked.

“Hueningkai, listen, listen to me,” Yeonjun said urgently. “Listen. There’s no way he’s here, he’s just a myth, it’s okay. Why would he be here? It’s okay, it’s okay. See? He’s not here anymore.  It’s just you, me and Taehyun. It’s okay. Breathe with me. Come on, Hueningkai. Breathe.”

Hueningkai was still breathing heavily, face pale. But eventually, accompanied by Yeonjun’s patient breathing exercises, he calmed down, and the colour returned to his face. He spotted Taehyun standing there awkwardly, and gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Taehyun, for having a panic attack and scaring you there.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Taehyun assured him. “As long as you’re okay.” He paused. “By the way, who is ‘he’?”

“No one,” Yeonjun responded quickly. “Just… a spy myth. That’s all.” He hesitated, still looking concernedly down at Hueningkai. “Taehyun? Why don’t you continue searching for the papers?”

Taehyun frowned. He wanted to stay with Hueningkai and make sure he was okay, but one look at Yeonjun’s pleading face and he reluctantly nodded his head. “Alright.”

As he walked away, he heard Yeonjun whisper urgently to Hueningkai.

“Please tell me you were hallucinating, Kai. Because about a week ago, I also thought I saw him in the palace halls…”

Their voices faded away, and Taehyun tilted his head in confusion. Though he and the spies were now more than just acquaintances, it still seemed there were a lot of things he was yet to understand about their spy world.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

“Hey, I found them,” Taehyun called. “I found the documents. But… it’s embarrassingly just a single piece of parchment.”

“Oh, let’s see.” Yeonjun walked over and looked at it. He frowned. “Oh, you’re right. It’s literally just one sheet.” He looked up at Hueningkai. “How will this help you?”

Hueningkai just shrugged, holding his hand out for the document. “It’ll jog my memory, I’m hoping.” He scanned the document up and down, and his eyes lit up. “Ah, that’s right. Foreign exchange, right?” He waved the paper in front of Taehyun’s face excitedly. “I remember! The reason the Jeo clan died out was because they were systematically killed one by one since their ability was so powerful! Wow, it’s all coming back to me now! The Jeo clan ability was a closely hidden secret in the beginning, so not many people came and took the surname Jeo, because they thought it was weak. That’s the reason why there aren’t any clan branches now. Anyway, the Jeos kept their ability so secret that people thought they had no ability. And that was so, so deadly for the people. Because the Jeos would come out of nowhere and suddenly start dominating and taking over things.

“Foreign exchange is a broad term. And yes, while a name doesn’t necessarily determine an ability, there really is not a more fitting description for the Jeo clan ability. If we were to speak technically, though, it’d be intercommunication between all things. They can speak using anything. Ah, it’s hard to explain, but they can speak any language, be it that of humans, animals, trees… heck, even charms. They could manipulate their voices to speak charms. It’s really quite fascinating, if you think about it.

“Soon, the Jeos spread like wildfire, killing and charming and taking over places. That is, until they grew too strong and the other clans of that era had to unite and ‘exterminate’ the Jeos. I remember, I read about this one famous incident that happened in the First Era, regarding the Yeosan Song clan and the Jeo clan. It was one man against the whole of the Yeosan Songs, and–”

“Okay, that’s enough with the info dump,” Yeonjun interrupted, holding up a hand to stop Hueningkai from rambling on any longer. “I think we get the idea.”

“Right, right.” Hueningkai rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Wow, I see why knowledge on clans is useful to Queen Erajin,” Yeonjun said, staring at Hueningkai. “You’re like an information bank. If we give you any sort of reference, you start spewing out all the information you know which is even remotely related to the subject. How do you remember all this stuff?”

“I absorb information like a sponge. That’s what all my tutors told me.”

“Wait, why does Queen Erajin want information about our clans though?” Taehyun interjected. “That’s part of the alliance, isn’t it? She wants our knowledge on clans, and also our forests. Do you know why?”

“Nope,” Yeonjun said, popping the ‘p’. “She just told me to say that it was something confidential within our court. I don’t actually know what it is. She does weird stuff, I tell you. One of the missions I went on for her was to go steal some flowers from this Lord, and burn the rest of the flowers so they couldn’t grow again.” He shrugged. “I never questioned it. It was never my place to question it. But it was always clear that these missions would be of the utmost benefit to Aruyeo. So I just went along with it.”

Taehyun tutted disapprovingly. “You’re like an obedient dog, aren’t you?”

Yeonjun glared, drawing himself up to his full height. “Shush. I’m more of a wild fox, you squirrel.”

Taehyun gasped. “Squirrel? How dare you!”

“Both of you, shut it,” Hueningkai called. He ruffled Yeonjun’s hair affectionately. “As for you, tiny big bro, don���t make fun of anyone’s height while I’m around. It doesn’t look good.”

Yeonjun pushed Hueningkai’s hand away, glaring at him with little menace. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise I’d have smashed all the bones in your hand.”

Hueningkai gave a grin. “I would have broken your fingers before you’d be able to do it.”

“Okay so anyway,” Taehyun interjected. “What about the ability, then? Foreign exchange? How do I like… activate it?”

“Ah. That.” Hueningkai scratched his neck. “I’m not actually too sure. It’s not exactly heard of for someone not to be able to use their ability.” At Taehyun’s frowny face, he reached out and patted the vizier’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sure there will be some logic to figuring it out though. But first, shall we get out of here?”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

“So why do you want to figure it out anyway? You already have the Jinju Kang ability, right? You’re literally famous for how well you can use it. Why do you need to know about the Jeo clan ability?” Hueningkai asked.

The three of them were sitting on the bed inside Yeonjun’s room, in a mini circle. Hueningkai had his hands clasped together, with a frown on his face.

“Well, it’s because it’s my true ability I suppose,” Taehyun responded. “I want to know what I can actually do myself.”

Hueningkai nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. But what doesn’t is the fact you don’t know how to use this ability.”

He placed his hands down on the mattress, waving them around for emphasis as he talked. “It should be an ability ingrained into you from birth,” he said. “I’m not sure how Gojongja works, but in Aruyeo they held tuition classes to help the kids learn how to control their abilities. Do you have something like that here?”

“All learning on abilities is done independently, I think,” Taehyun responded. “Like you said, knowledge on how to use your ability is ingrained into you from birth, so all the learning we needed to do was just to make it stronger.”

“How do you mean?” Yeonjun asked.

“Like, when I was five, I could only make the grass move. I couldn’t make anything grow. But as I grew older, and my ability grew stronger, I’d practice and practice to get to the stage I am right now.” He held up his hand and conjured a small daisy to prove his point. Letting it bloom for a moment, he folded his hand and crushed the flower. “Like that.”

Yeonjun nodded thoughtfully. “Seeing as Hueningkai couldn’t remember much about the Jeo clan in the beginning, it must be a pure Gojongja clan, meaning the ability works the same way most Gojongja abilities do.”

“Right, right,” Hueningkai agreed. “So that means, since you haven’t used it before, it’s weak.”

“Like that of a newborn baby’s,” Taehyun said.

Hueningkai nodded. “Exactly. But even babies have knowledge of how to use their ability, so I’m just thinking…” He reached out for Taehyun’s hand, the hand in which the vizier had conjured a flower. “Is your Jinju Kang ability interfering with your capability to perform the Jeo ability?” Gently, he traced the lines along Taehyun’s palm, leaving a glowing path where his fingers had been.

“What are you doing?” Taehyun asked, trying to take his hand out of Hueningkai’s grip.

“No, stay there,” Yeonjun said, holding Taehyun’s arm in place. “Matter manipulation, remember? He’s trying to see something.”

“Okay but it’s kind of stressing me,” Taehyun said, watching as more of his palm started to glow.

“It’s okay. Trust me, and relax,” Hueningkai said, not looking up from Taehyun’s hand. “You won’t feel a thing.”

Taehyun hummed, still a little sceptical, but kept his arm steady to allow Hueningkai to do whatever he needed to do. The young Aruyeonan continued to stare at Taehyun’s palm, tracing more glowing patterns across the skin. After a few minutes, Taehyun spoke again.

“Are you trying to see through my skin into my bones?”

“No,” Hueningkai responded. “I’m trying to see through your bones into your ability.” At Taehyun’s confused silence, he began to explain. “There’s no scientific way to explain this as such, but there are other types of matter. Other than the ones we all know about: solids, liquids, and gases, there seem to be others. I don’t know, maybe it’s just because of my ability that I can see them. They’ve never been found out before, so I’m not sure if they’re truly accessible. But anyway, I’m trying to make your skin transparent, and turn the rest of you into another type of matter, which is linked to the magic of our abilities.”

Yeonjun frowned. “So there’s this type of matter which takes the form of abilities?”

“Technically, yeah,” Hueningkai said. “So I’m trying to turn the solid and liquid of your hand into that state of matter.”

“How will that help?” Taehyun asked.

“I’ll be able to see your ability, and identify how you can use the Jeo ability.”

Taehyun gave a soft gasp as his hand unexpectedly turned warm, as if put above the steam of a pot of boiling water. His skin turned translucent, showing all his flesh and bones, before it melted into a strange, sparkly substance. He stared curiously at the substance which appeared to be within his own hand.

“Wow,” was all he was able to say. “That’s pretty.”

Hueningkai gave an amused chuckle, watching the sparkly stuff swirl lazily in Taehyun’s hand. “We are but beings carved from moonshine and stardust,” he said. “That’s what Sir Yoongi always said.” He looked up at Taehyun, and the vizier’s hand stopped glowing, gradually turning back to normal. “He was probably just joking, though.”

“So did you find out what’s wrong with Taehyun’s ability?” Yeonjun asked. “I mean, why he couldn’t use it?”

“Yeah, I have,” Hueningkai said, chuckling slightly. “Ah, I’m so dumb! It’s obvious! It’s because Taehyun’s never attempted to speak in a foreign language before!”

Taehyun blinked, before smiling. “Oh, you’re right. I’ve never had to, so I guess that’s why.”

“They never made you learn a foreign language?” Yeonjun asked curiously.

“They didn’t need to,” Hueningkai said. “They didn’t need to, since Taehyun is already a master at all languages, right? It’s any form of communication, as well! You could probably go talk to a dog now, and it’d understand you.”

“Does that mean I’ll be able to understand dogs too?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, but it’ll probably take practice. Remember, your ability is weak, so you need to gradually build it up. Though actually, that might not be the case,” Hueningkai said musingly. “You said your ability grows with your age, right?”

Taehyun nodded. “But it’ll still be weak, because it hasn’t been used before.”

“Ah right, okay.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Hueningkai messily scrambled under the bed. Yeonjun chuckled, and stood up to see who was at the door.

“Um, hello? I heard that Sir Taehyun was meant to be here.” A nervous-looking young boy stood at the door, clutching lots of loose pieces of parchment.

“Yes, I am,” Taehyun said, getting up and walking over to the door. “Ah, these must be information about the Lords, correct?”

“Y– yes, sir. They are.”

“Thank you. I’ll take these, then.”

The boy handed the papers to Taehyun and bowed several times, before shooting off down the hallway. Yeonjun watched him scurry away, chuckling, before closing the door.

“The nervous ones are the most adorable. They act as if you’re going to bite their head off with one wrong move.” He peered over Taehyun’s shoulder as the vizier leafed through the papers. “You’re doing work already? Taehyun, you’ve only just recovered from being sick! Kai, tell him! Since you were literally practically technically almost poisoned , there really is no need for you to go back to work so soon, Taehyun. See here, concentrating for so long will hurt your head, and you might fall over like you did last time! And we don’t know if you’re fully recovered yet, ‘cause you might have relapses or something, which will definitely not be good for you–”

“These papers are long overdue,” Taehyun said, ignoring Yeonjun’s scoldings. “I asked for them about a week ago. Oh well. Better late than never, I suppose.”

“–and it’s not good for your eyes looking at that tiny writing! Hey, Taehyun. Are you listening to me?”

Taehyun walked past Yeonjun, sitting down cross-legged on the carpeted floor. “Hueningkai, you can get up now. The runner boy has gone now.” Hueningkai poked his head out from under the bed, and crawled out to sit next to Taehyun.

“Ooh. Why are you looking at the background info of various Lords?” he asked.

“I’m replacing council members,” Taehyun replied. “These are all potential candidates.”

“Wait, let me see,” Yeonjun said, reaching for a paper. “I might know some of them.”

“Me too,” Hueningkai added, taking another parchment from Taehyun’s pile. “I may not get out of Aruyeo much, but people do come to our court.”

The three of them silently looked through the papers, the two spies occasionally speaking up to let Taehyun know anything additional they knew about certain people.

“This guy was in our military for six years,” Hueningkai said. “I remember him! He’s so handsome as well.”

“Don’t date a soldier,” Yeonjun reprimanded. “They make bad boyfriends.”

“Like spies are any better,” Hueningkai said. “Anyway, I’m just saying. He used to be in the military, so he’s probably good.”

“Speaking of the military, how is everything going with the riot? How has employing the military fared?” Yeonjun asked.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Taehyun smiled, putting down the parchment he’d been looking at. “It was successful! The soldiers retreated the day Beomgyu left, and no one was hurt.”

“That’s good.” A thought struck Hueningkai. “But if it would be that easy, why would they have rebelled?”

“Right? I didn’t understand that. But apparently loads of the soldiers overheard the citizens talking, and it sounded like they had been under a spell,” Taehyun said. He shrugged. “I dunno. There aren't any Lords who are spell-casters, at least according to my knowledge, so I’m not sure. They could have been threatened, but even that is unlikely.”

Yeonjun frowned. "When did you have time to hear that? You were still bedridden the day Beomgyu left!”

“It must have been when you went to your chambers to change clothes,” Hueningkai said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “That’s why you took three hours!”

Taehyun held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. You caught me! But I can’t stay away from work for too long. So starting tomorrow, I’ll be resuming my duties as a vizier again. Full-time.”

Yeonjun sighed. “So that means tonight is your last night sleeping here, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

Hueningkai gasped, clapping his hands excitedly. “Then why don’t we all sleep in the bed?”

“What, together?” Taehyun said. “I don’t think–”

“Yes! Hueningkai, you’re a genius!” Yeonjun cheered. When Taehyun tried to protest, he picked up the vizier by the legs and flung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, before plopping him onto the bed, promptly diving onto the mattress next to him. “Come on, Kai!”

“Hey!” Taehyun flailed around for a pillow, and began hitting Yeonjun fervently. In retaliation, Yeonjun also picked up a cushion, hitting Taehyun with equal vigor. Suddenly, a huge bolster pillow hit both of their heads, almost knocking them over. They both paused, turning to slowly look at the offender. Hueningkai blinked, giggling nervously. Within a matter of seconds, Hueningkai was getting beaten up by two pillows, feathers flying everywhere.

The three of them ended up passed out on the bed, surrounded by destroyed pillows and piles of feathers, a tangled mess of limbs. In the morning, they’d have to deal with the white, fluffy mess they’d made, but for now, they were calm and content, far away in dreamland.

[notquitecanon]

Hi there! I absolutly love you writing! I was wondering if you could pretty please write a very fluffy piece with Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Keep up the AMAZING work and may the force be with you!

FUN FACTS || Spencer Reid. 

It had become a thing between the two of you. You thought that the way his mind worked was amazing, he just liked seeing you smile.

“Hey, Spence, tell me something interesting.” You requested, head in his lap as you watched the movie that was on TV. The genius didn’t stop reading his book, mentally skimming through some of the more obscure facts he remembered. Finally, he glanced down to you only to find you giddily smiling. 

“Between 1912 and 1948, competitive art was an Olympic Game. They awarded medals in sculptures, music, painting, and architecture. If they still counted them, John Copley would be the oldest medalist in Olympic History at 73.” He recited, absentmindedly lowering his book as he continued while you played with one of his hands (another habit of yours that Spencer pretended to just not to mind, but actually loved), “According to the Smithsonian, he placed silver for his 1948 engraving Polo Players in the last Olympic games that had the competition.” 

You sighed contentedly, thinking about the new knowledge as you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. He smiled down at you, taking his hand from you as he began toying with your hair, booked held to the side with one hand. 

____________________

Other times, you did it to take his mind of something. 

You watched as the doctor chewed on his lip, flipping through a Russian translation of War and Peace like his life depended on it. You knew he was worried about Hotch, who was still taking his time after Hayley’s death. 

You came from behind, gently dragging a hand through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp to rouse his from his stupor, “Tell me something odd, Dr. Reid.” 

The troubled agent sighed, but indulged you anyways, “Uhhhh, did you know that the hottest temperature ever recorded on Earth was Two billion degrees Kelvin- about 3599999540.33 degrees Fahrenheit. For reference to interior of our sun is only 15 million.”

“Oh, only 15?” You asked playfully, gently scratching the back of his neck. He leaned forward, relaxing at the touch. 

“Scientists at Sandia National Laboratories produced it using a superheated gas.” He went on explaining as you draped yourself over him in a hug, kissing his cheek. He chatted animatedly about the physics behind that but paused after a bit. 

“Hey, (Y/N)?” He asked, bringing your attention back to him- while you enjoyed his fun facts, thermonuclear physics was a bit above your paygrade. 

“Hmmm.” You hummed, tucking a light brown curl behind his ear. 

“Thank you.”

_____________

And other times, you did it to take your own mind of things. 

Anxiety, amongst other negative emotions, bubbled in your stomach. Spencer could tell something was wrong, but you didn’t seem to want to talk about it. You had been switching between fiddling with nails and anxiously scrolling through your twitter feed for the past half hour.  

Spencer didn’t want to press you to talk about it if you didn’t want to but hated seeing you so worked up. He had turned on your favorite show and was playing with your hair, even throwing out the offer to try to cook something. 

“Hey, Spence?” Your voice was quiet as your head fell to his shoulder, knees drawing up as you curled into him. Adjusting himself to make you more comfortable, he wrapped his other arm around you. 

“Yes?” He answered quietly, cheek resting against your hair.

“Tell me something, anything.” You requested, closing your eyes and moving so your head was on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. 

“The moons gravitational pull is slowly making Earth’s rotation slower. Every 100 years it adds 1.4 milliseconds to our day. With some basic calculations, you could deduce that when dinosaurs roamed the planet, days were twenty-THREE hours long.” He informed you, thumb rubbing comforting circles on your arm.  

Though your voice was muffled by the tweed coat that he’d worn to work that day, he still heard your quiet, tired gratitude, “Thank you.”

_______________

Spencer had just taken your wine glass back to Rossi’s table to refill it after telling you another crazy fact about the moon. You smiled as he went, soft eyes following him as he left the room.

The rest of the BAU watched the two of you, happy for the youngest member of the team. Unaware that Spencer could still hear her, JJ nudged your knee with a kind smile, “Why do you always ask him to tell you facts?”

You stopped to think about it, it had become such second nature. Grinning at the blonde, you answered, “It’s like dating an encyclopedia. The way his brain works is amazing, and he knows so much that there’s no telling what he’s going to tell me. Did you know, he’s never told me the same fact twice?”

“It’s like they were made for each other.” Prentiss laughed, causing you to blush as the rest of the team agreed as Spencer walked back in holding a full glass of wine. 

Derek teased him about being whipped and Penelope called dibs on maid of honor. Prentiss and JJ were clinking their glasses together while Rossi was complaining that the team was drinking him out of house and home. Distracting you from Hotch moving to the corner of the room, pulling out his phone. 

“Hey, (Y/N), can I tell you something?” Spencer called your attention away from his teammates as he laced his hand in yours. With a smile, you nodded, waiting for him to tell you another insane tidbit of knowledge. 

“Did you know that the Greeks are the reason we wear engagement rings on our left ring finger. They believed there was a vein called the vena amoris that ran straight to your heart. It doesn’t actually exist, but that’s where the tradition comes from.” He paused his rambling, and you had an inkling where this was going as his grip on your hand tightened- his hand was sweating and he was speaking fast, indicating that he was nervous, “In a similar vein, in 1477 Archduke Maximillian of Austria commissioned the very first diamond engagement ring on record for his betrothed, Mary of Burgundy.”

Your eyebrow quirked upwards as butterflies filled your stomach, but he wasn’t done, “Also, technically, American marriages weren’t required by law to have witnesses until 1957.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Will you marry me?” 

Your heart stopped as he slipped down onto one knee and produced a ring out of his pocket, hands flying to your mouth as the team around you gasped and clapped. You struggled for words wildly nodding as you choked out a frantic, “yes, yes, oh my god, yes!”

The rest of the team cheered as you launched yourself at the curly-haired doctor, who happily laughed as the two of you toppled over onto the rug. Helping you up, he slipped the ring onto your hand with a smile. Struggling to control your breath, you glanced from the ring to your boyfriend  fiance. 

(Ignoring Emily as she turned to Rossi with a brilliant smile, “Well, Rossi, time to break out the Champagne.”

“Hey, Spence, can I tell you something?” You asked, giggling as he looked confused. You caught his lips, enjoying the moment before breaking away, “I love you.”

____________

Sorry this took so long, but I hope this fills the need for fluffy! :) 

[writtenfan]

Ah, The Joys of Parenthood, They’re your Whole Underworld ya know?

DisneyHades x Reader

Taking care of the little fire-crackers can be a lot, Hades sure feels that way...

Oh geez, s-settle down, kiddos… No, no. No! No!! I take a call for two seconds! -” he holds up two fingers and waves them in the air looking down at his kids, fussing and running around the room. 

“TWO. Itty bitty SECONDS!, and all of you go Lord of the Flies on me.”

You watch Hades breathing heavily, trying his very very best to keep himself calm tempered but his flames give away how angry he is by their frantic bursts of red between the blue. His internal de-fuming was interrupted by a loud-

 BAM! 

As one of the three kids, tripped over their father’s smoke and onto the rug which made him snap his head to them, grab them by their shoulders with the same smoke they tripped over and pulled them towards him.

They look up at him will a giddy smile and he scrunches up his nose and gives them a closed smile back, which looked absolutely phony.

“Cool it, you little pest, or DADDY’S going to, lose it. Capiche? You don’t like it when daddy goes Koo-Koo! Koo-Koo! Right?!” he hisses through his teeth and your child shakes their head with a worried frown and slowly walks off towards a bunch of books laying on the floor.

“Oy Vey, KIDS! Alright, ok, Calm down Hades. In and out, remember what Hera told you? Oh ho ho, ho…feeling dumb now aren’t ya? How you shoulda thought twice before-” he stops himself and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in an exhaling hot smoke as he opens his eyes lazily.

His voice turning eerily sweeter, “Ahem. Daddy can only handle sooo MUCH~! Before he decides to take the late abortion, option...

... AND THROWS YOU IN THE STYX!!!”

Well. He Failed at Being Calm.

His fire sparks a dazzling red which causes all of your kids to halt and say their apologies to their father, significantly slowing down in the process, all except one kid. Who seemed to be completely running on adrenaline and just wouldn’t sit still.

“Thank you. You little brats… Geez, and watch your sibling eh? Oy, I shouldn’t have given them those cookies…but they kept bugging me and bugging me. Works for the dog, I give them a treat and badabing! They’re off my back for an hour or two. But this little smutch right here?! Sheesh!” He mocks a buzzer sound. “Wrong answer. Never again, you hear me?!” he points to your child who gives their father a sharp toothed grin.

You lean against the stone door frame and some of the stone crumbles off the wall and his attention shifts to you and the smirk on your face. He sizzles down automatically. 

The blue flames flicker once again on the top of his head. His face turns to this sentimental big-eyed and blushing grin. 

“y/n! sweetheart, the exquisite object of my affection…” he glides his way towards you, and you meet him in the middle of the room. 

Your kids turn their head and smile at you, with a few hi (mommy/daddy’s) but once again become preoccupied with the one child that just wouldn’t stop putting pieces of books into the fire. You tell them to stay away from the breakables with a laugh as you watch the youngest drop the books and run towards a statue while the middle child is just trying to pull the younger one way from it. 

This den had turned into the colosseum pits of Rome more than once and It didn’t help that it was filled with old irreplaceable books and rickety bookshelves crawling with Underworld bugs. (Which Hades uses as a light reading snack ugh). Along with a cluster of breakable glass containers and cylinders holding whatever the hell they held, littering the floor.

This place was a disaster zone. The few screaming statues that stood around the room sure didn’t make it peaceful either and right on cue you watched your oldest accidentally fall into one after tugging with the youngest and you leaped forward as you saw the statue jolt but were greeted with, “Aye aye, I got it, it got iiiit…” As a burst of smoke pushed against the other side of the statue stopping it from falling while picking back up the oldest on their feet and grabbing your youngest by the back of their collar and hovering them over the fireplace, (which had absolutely nothing to prevent a child from falling inside) plopping them down on the huge intricately woven rug made by The Fates. 

Unexpectedly Hades pulls you into him by the waist and spins you around in a circle. “Angel face, Baby. heh, do you think you could? Uh, handle them, for me? For a little bit, of course.”

  You give him a look.

“ Ay heheh...I just have to go to another business meeting, haha yeah. He rests his hands on your waist and isn’t afraid to hold them firmly, oh he knew how to make you soft.  

“You know Echidna right?! Right. Husband Typhon… the mountain guy… you know. 6 weeks ago at the pool party, best Feta Me Meli you ever had? Well. They’ve been impatient recently and I rather not get on her bad side…or have them on mine. So, watch little Cerberus Jr. for me until my meet up is over, cool? Cool.” He gestures to your three kids who have now restrained the youngest who was flickering little bursts of red around their hair. (He collectively calls them Cerberus Jr. Quite often.) Sweat is rolling down Hades’s forehead and sizzling off in steam just as it formed, his face still in complete pleading mode, lips pouted, eyes all big...

“Please?!” he clears his throat.

 “I mean, ha-ha-heh please dearest? I mean, I deserve it! I bet your liking this top-notch parenting your witnessing eh?” He blows hot air on his knuckles and rubs them on his chest as if shining it. “Well, I hope this turns you on… But I’m kinda running a bit low on steam, or should I say, smoke.” he grumbles. 

Your eldest yells from across the room as they're putting all the books on high shelves to stop the youngest from continuing to shred them into the fire. They then say something about how “Dad” gave the youngest some oatmeal cookies that had him bouncing off the walls. 

“You little snitch,” Hades mumbled under his mouth giving his child the eye which made them shudder and look away. You turn to Hades with an eyebrow raised, and he places a hand on your back and turns you around from the kids gilding you towards the door.

“But even though I’m ha top, repeating what you said last night, DILF. Of the Underworld and all-” He chuckled proudly and you laugh and turn your head to the kids, and you catch one rolling their eyes and you give them an ashamed little chortle “-I got to get some work done, that isn’t…this work.”

He grins sheepishly and you roll your eyes and smile. But remind him that you’re not going to be the typical stay at home (mom/dad) that he may want you to be. As you caught him slipping earlier with such an expectation from you. Which made you make him spend time with the kids in the first place.

“Oh YES! GODS. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” 

He clasps both his hands around yours and shakes them frantically and you start laughing which makes him grin. “I promise boss, I won’t let you down. Overtime even and ill clock in early (ma’am/sir) I'll even stay in late…and help you, liquidate the debt …if you know what I mean…” he wiggles his eyebrows and you are bombarded with little kisses all over your face as he says “Muah” for each one, you try pushing him off you but he turns you around as you do so that his back is now towards the door. He pulls away from you laugh as he gives you a salute, but before slipping through the door he points to the kids.

“If you make your (mother/father) mad or sad or anything but glad! I’ll give you all a worthy punishment for your demi-dis“ass”ter’s got it?” He points to himself and then back at them and they reply in obvious dread and you wave him off but he just gives you few air kisses, “I’ll take ya on a little trip to doom-and-gloomingdales and get you something swanky, we’ll have Pain and Panic watch the kids.” He gives you a wink and clicks his tongue as he leaves and you walk over to your kids. 

Scooping up the youngest who was on a sugar high and watch their little flames of anger die down as you held them from their middle with ease and you smiled as they started laughing as you hoisted them up on your shoulders.

“How’re (mommas/daddy’s) favorite kids doing huh. Driving him mad eh?” you chuckle as you walk over to your other two scamps.

“We’re you only kids…”

“I’m the favorite!!”

“BOW DOWN TINY MORTALS FOR I AM HADES!!”

You smirk up at the one on your shoulders.

“Oh, please don’t copy your father there’s enough of him already.”

[yeontanismypresident]

BTS Reaction: They Meet Their Newborn

a/n: I apologize for Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s being so short. I was having trouble coming up with the right words and scenes, but hopefully you still enjoy it hsdj. 

Seokjin

“Yah! You imbeciles get back here!” Jin yelled as he chased the maknae line around the dorm living room. While he had gone to the bathroom, the three youngest put random spices in his food.

Jimin cackled, hiding behind the couch, “You’ll never catch us!” He squealed as Jin rounded the furniture, rushing to grab a hold of him. Just as Jin’s fingers were about to grasp his shirt, Jimin ran down the hall and hid in a random room.

“Come and get us hyung~” Taehyung and Jungkook chanted in sync before they escaped into the hallway as well. Jin huffed, mumbling to himself and going after them.

Your voice held confusion when you spoke, “Uhh, Jimin? What the hell are you doing?” Jimin turned quickly, taking in the scene that was in front of him. Seeing you on Jin’s bed, he froze, realizing he was in his hyung’s bedroom.

“Uhh, hiding from Jin?” he said unsure. When all you did was raise an eyebrow at him, he stated more confidently, “We put all kinds of spices in his food, so he’s trying to capture us now.” All you did was hum, and then went back to the book you were reading.

Feeling his gaze still on you, you sighed, not taking your eyes off the page, “Yes, you can stay in here Jiminie.” He said a quiet thank you, then sat down next to you, pulling out his phone. He could hear the screams and laughter of Taehyung and Jungkook as they continued to run from Jin.

“So what are you reading?” Jimin questioned you, getting bored of switching through the same apps. If Jin wasn’t chasing them anymore he would have left, but he could still hear the wild footsteps outside the room.

Right as you were going to answer, a wave of pain washed over you. Jimin looked up from his phone when he heard you gasp for air. When he saw you holding your lower abdomen, he freaked out.

“Oh my god! Y/n are you okay? What hurts?” he frantically asked you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You gritted your teeth, taking in a deep breath and got out, “Just a contraction. God, it hurts like a bitch.” He observed as your hands clenched the bed sheets, face turning red.

“Y/n, how far apart are they?” Jimin asked you, knowing if they were frequent he should tell his hyung.

As soon as the contraction ended, you stated, “Every six minutes...” His eyes widened, shocked with your words.

“Y/n-ah! You need to tell Jin hyung!” he exclaimed, standing from the bed.

You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from leaving, “No. He doesn’t need to know. It’s fine, really. I don’t need to go yet.” Your voice was shaking, nerves coursing through your veins.

“What do you mean? You need to leave when they’re five minutes apart!” he got out of your grasp, heading out of the room to find Jin. Walking into the living room, he saw Taehyung and Jungkook pouting on the couch. Jimin tilted his head, wondering where the eldest was.

Right as he was about to ask, Jin came up behind him and grabbed him in a headlock, “Ha! Got you! You little pabo!” Jimin tried to escape his member’s arms, but had no luck. Jin started to drag him over to the other two youngest men.

“Jin hyung! Stop, let me go!” Jimin continued to fail in leaving the older’s grip. Jin just laughed, throwing him beside his friends.

When Jimin attempted to stand, Jin held him down, “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. You three are going to clean the dorm, while I watch and make sure you do it. That’s your punishment for ruining my precious food.”

“Hyu-” Jimin tried once more to warn him the problem, but Jin wasn’t having it.

Jin pouted playfully, “No, I mean it Jimin-ah. How could you guys do that to me?” The other two makneas watched in curiosity as Jimin rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Hyung! Y/n’s contractions are six minutes apart!” Jimin finally huffed out before falling onto the couch.

Jin’s eyes widened, before he paled, “What? Why didn’t you tell me that!” As Jin rushed to his bedroom, Jimin yelled out a ‘that’s what I was trying to do! Jeez..’

Slamming the door open, he saw you sitting with your eyes screwed shut. He hurried over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He helped you up from the bed, walking towards the door.

“Where are you taking me Jin?” you wondered, allowing him to lead you to the living room. The rest of the BTS members were already there, coming when they had heard Jimin’s yelling.

He grabbed your hospital bag, telling you, “I’m taking you to the hospital.” When you heard him say those words, you broke from his grasp. He turned to look at you, confused on your actions.

“No. I’m not going,” you fiercely said, backing away from him. You whimpered as another contraction came.

Jin held you up, his voice frantic as he tried to get you to listen to him, “Yah, c’mon Y/n, we have to go. Your contractions aren’t far apart. We don’t have time to waste.” Once it passed, you, once again, escaped his embrace

“I-I can’t Jin, I can’t go. I’m s-scared. I’m not ready to be a mom,” you whispered, your fear showing through your voice.

His eyes softened and he reassured you, “Hey, baby, you’re going to be the best mom ever. I’ll be there with you through it all, I promise. Okay?” Seeing you hesitantly nod your head, he smiled at you, “Now, let’s go bring our little girl into the world, hmm?”

Ten hours later, you did just that. You were laying on the hospital bed, completely exhausted, but smiling at the little bundle in your arms. Jin was leaning over you, landing a gentle kiss on your lips, before softly kissing your daughter’s head.

Yoongi

Yoongi kept checking his phone to see if you had messaged him yet, wanting to make sure you were alright. He was currently on tour in Japan while you were stuck in Seoul by yourself. Sure, you had his mom with you, but he was still beating himself up for not being able to be there as well. You were 38 weeks pregnant and ready to pop any minute. He had talked to management to see if he could take a break from this tour, but they gave him a hard no. Telling him how he couldn’t let army down, but if he was being honest, he would rather let them down than to make you, his wife, go through labor alone.

Hoseok’s voice tore him from his worries, “Yoongi hyung, it’s your turn to get makeup done.” Yoongi just hummed, glancing back down to his phone, eyebrows creasing when there was still no message from you.

“Yoongi-ah, she’ll text you if something happens, but right now we need to get ready,” Jin placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it one gentle squeeze. He sighed, before standing up from his place on the couch. He walked over to the stylist, sitting down and looking back to his phone.

Everyone around him watched just stare at his messages between you, his knee bouncing up and down. No one blamed him for being so anxious, anyone would be if they were in his place. They all knew he felt incredibly terrible, scared he would miss the birth of his son. Yet, every person in that room knew that wouldn’t be the case. If anything did happen, he would be on the next plane to Seoul, taking the two hour flight home no matter what.

Once the BTS members all had their makeup done and outfits on, they got ready to go on stage. The screams and fan chants could be heard from backstage, and the sounds somewhat calmed Yoongi’s nerves. It always made a smile appear on his face, and today was no different. Just as they were about to head on stage, one of the stylists came running towards them. They were all confused when she stopped next to Yoongi, only realizing what was happening when she spoke.

“Yoongi-ssi! Your mom called, Y/n is heading to the hospital,” the stylist’s voice cracked a few times from how breathless she was from running. Yoongi just stared at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to do.

Thankfully, Namjoon knew exactly what to do, “Hyung, go. We’ll explain to management what happened later. But right, Y/n needs you, so go.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, for he ran to the room where their stuff was. After he had all of his belongings, he took a taxi to the airport. Getting a ticket, he got on the plane, texting you that he was on his way, before putting his phone on airplane mode. For the whole plane ride, he couldn’t sit still, thoughts on how you were doing plaguing his mind.

Arriving at the airport, he got into a taxi and rushed to the hospital where you were. When he got there, he ran to the front desk, panting out your name. The nurse told him what room, and he quickly made his way there. Turning a corner, he saw his mom outside the room.

“Mom!” he said out of breathe,  finally reaching her. His mom just gave him a smile, before ushering him inside. Walking in, he saw you on the hospital bed, giving him a tense smile. He scrambled over to you, grasping your hand in his tightly.

He looked at you with soft eyes, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with you baby.” You tilted your head, taking in his appearance. He was still dressed in his concert attire, sweat coating his forehead, puffs of air escaping his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. It was obvious he had left straight away and that warmed your heart.

“It’s okay Yoongs, you’re here now and that’s all that matters,” you spoke through clenched teeth as another contraction, stronger than the ones before, pulsed through you. He bit his lip as you squeezed his hand painfully, slowly numbing it.

Eight hours later, and you were finally done giving birth. Yoongi got on the small bed, cuddling you into his chest as the two of you waited for the nurse to bring in your son. His mom strolled in and sat on the chair on your left, just as the nurse arrived. She walked over, handing you your son, Seo-joon, before leaving to give you all space.

Yoongi’s voice was trembling when he stated, “He’s so beautiful..” You glanced up at him to see water glistening in his eyes, a teary smile on his face. Smiling back him, you leaned your head on his, looking back at Seo-joon.

“He looks like you,” you mumbled out, taking in how his nose was boopable just like his fathers.

Your husband chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Yeah, yeah he does.”

Hoseok

Humming to yourself, you danced around the kitchen to the music playing. You were cooking a celebratory dinner for the boys. They had just won an award and were doing a vlive at the BigHit building. Hoseok had asked if you wanted to join them, but you told him you’d rather stay at the dorm. Though, you did tell him him not to eat anything, informing him you were cooking for them.

That was an hour ago, the food now done, and you just needed to set the table. Once you had the table cloth on, you started arranging the plates and silverware. Grabbing the pot from the stove, you placed the food in the middle of the table. Stepping back, you wiped the sweat from your forehead. Usually cooking and setting the table wouldn’t wear you out. Yet, seeing as you’re 35 weeks pregnant, it took a lot out of you.

A sharp pain from your lower abdomen had you grunting, leaning on the chair next to you. Taking deep breaths in and out, you calmed yourself down. It was probably just something you ate. Nothing to worry about. Once it ceased, you straightened up, walking into Hoseok and Jimin’s room where your dress was. You picked up the boysenberry purple dress and went to the bathroom. Putting it on, you checked yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the material. You were slightly shocked to see it actually looked good. Your insecurities had been more frequent, but Hoseok had always been there to reassure you. If anything, he thought you looked even more beautiful pregnant. But can you blame him? It was his child growing in you.

Hearing your phone ring, you rushed to get it before it stopped. Seeing your boyfriend’s caller ID and picture, you smiled and answered the call.

“Hello?” you greeted him, hearing the rest of the members in the background, yelling and laughing.

“Hi baby, we’re about to leave is there anything you need us to bring?”

You went through everything in your head, before deciding you had everything, “No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I have everything.”

“Then we’ll see you in about, umm, 15 minutes?” he asked you more than told you.

You giggled, “Yeah, bye baby.” Just as you two were about to hang up, you gasped.

“Jagi? What is it?”

You stared, surprised at what you saw surrounding your feet, “Umm, Hoseokie, there is actually something you can do.”

“What? What is it? Y/n baby you’re scaring me,” Hoseok’s voice was frantic as he heard the tremble in yours.

You took a shaky breath and grabbed your hospital bag, “My water just broke. I’m going to have the neighbor drive me to the hospital. I need you to meet me there.” You tried to stay calm, knowing he would freak out even more if you were freaking out.

“What?!?! Fuck, you’re not even due for another five weeks! What the fuck, ok, I’ll meet you there baby. I love you.”

You smiled, knocking on the boys’ neighbor’s door, before saying goodbye to your boyfriend. The door opened, and there stood a smiling Myung, who’s eyes grew in size when he took in your appearance.

You nervously spoke to him, “Hi Myung-ssi, um, you see. Uhh, my water broke, and Hoseok isn’t here and I need a ride to the hospital. I mean, only if you want to! I don’t want to bother you. I could always drive myse-”

“Y/n-ssi, it’s okay. Let me just grab my keys and wallet. Is Hoseok-ssi meeting you there?” Myung cut off your rant, reassuring you. You nodded and he helped you down to the lobby and his car.

When Hoseok arrived at your hospital room, you had already been there for twenty minutes. He rushed in, tears racing down his cheeks and sniffling. He stumbled his way over to you, tightly gripping your hand, “Jagi, is everything okay? Is the baby okay?”

“I’m so scared Hobi, the doctor said she’s coming out today. T-they said I have to have a C-Section. But it’s too early, I’m only 35 weeks. S-she’s gonna be premature. What if she doesn’t make it?” you said, scared out of your mind, looking up at him with fear swirling in your gaze.

Too many thoughts were running through his head, but one thing you said stuck out to him, “W-wait...you said she?” The thought of having a little princess with you caused his tears to fall even faster.

“Yeah,” you gave him a watery smile, squeezing his hand.

The doctor walked inside and cleared his throat, “Are you ready Ms. L/n and Mr. Jung?” You took a deep breath and nodded, ready to meet your daughter.

Seventeen minutes later and you heard a crying fill the room. Gasping, you watched as the nurses made sure she was breathing and had a healthy heartbeat. Once everything was cleared, a nurse wrapped her up and handed her to you. Hoseok cried as he took in the view of you holding your daughter, his daughter.

Namjoon

“Namjoon hyung come say hi to ARMY!” Jungkook yelled from where he was sitting down on the floor. All of the boys were sitting in a circle in the middle of their dance studio. They were doing a vlive, wanting to thank them for all their love and support.

Namjoon walked over and sat down next to Jin, leaning on his hands behind him. They all joked around and read the comments from their fans. Namjoon read one of them out loud, “Namjoon oppa, are you excited to meet your daughter?” A bright smile came onto his face, dimples appearing, “Ah, I am. It’s been a long journey and I know Y/n’s definitely ready for it to be over.” He joked at the end, causing the boys around him to laugh. They all knew that was definitely true.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Jimin red another comment, looking expectantly at his hyung.

Namjoon looked into the camera, “We’re having a boy. I just hope he isn’t as clumsy as I am!” Everyone laughed, secretly hoping the same. Lord knows how you would feel having to take care of two clumsy children.

This carried on for several more minutes, before Hoseok’s ringtone broke the joking. He pulled it from his pocket, eyebrows furrowing when he saw your caller ID. He answered the phone, putting it on speaker, “Y/n?”

“Yeah, hi Hoseok, where the fuck is Namjoon?” your voice came through the phone. Hearing the cuss word, the questioned man choked on his spit.

“I’m right here Jagi, we’re doing a vlive. What did you need?” Namjoon attempted to warn you not to say anything worse, but you honestly didn’t give a shit.

The boys heard you scoff on the other end, “Do you really think I give a motherfucking bitch ass shit about if you’re live when I’m about to push out your child?” Everyone froze as soon as the words met their ears.

“Wait, what?! You’re in labor?!” Namjoon squeaked out in shock. Why hadn’t you called him?

You rolled your eyes, even though they couldn’t see, “Yes, you piece of shit. And you would know this if you had answered your phone.” Oh, so you had tried to reach him. Guilt overcame him, making him feel miserable. How stupid could he be? Your voice was still stern as you spoke once again, “It’s your fault I’m pregnant, so you better get your ass here now.” And before anyone could get another word out, you hung up on them.

The BTS members all sat in silence, before Namjoon grabbed the selfie stick and ran out of the room, “ARMY, let’s go have a baby!!” He talked to all the viewers on the taxi ride over, only turning it off when he was about to go into your hospital room.

“Hi jagiya, I’m here!” Namjoon cheered, walking over to where you lay, kissing your forehead with bright eyes. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, knowing he would be getting an earful when you were not in pain.

Jimin

The screaming fans that were there for soundcheck could be heard from where the boys sat in their dressing room. They were holding a concert, here in Seoul, to kick off their small tour. Taehyung and Jungkook were messing with Jin, the rapline were discussing the tour, while Jimin was on facetime with you.

“Jagiya~ I miss you~” Jimin said in a sing-song voice. He should feel embarrassed, since he’s only been away from for an hour, but he couldn’t care less. Ever since the two of you found out you were pregnant, he’d been even more clingy and protective. You couldn’t lie, you loved when he was clingy.

You giggled, shaking your head with a cheesy smile on your face, “I miss you too Jiminie~” He sighed dreamily, loving when you missed him as well.

“What have you been up to since I’ve been gone baby?” he asked you, tugging on a lose string on his shirt.

You hummed, pretending to think it over, “I’ve been watching Netflix, that one drama I told you about.” He nodded, letting you know he knew which show you were talking about.

“Jimin-ah, it’s time to go on for soundcheck,” Yoongi said before Jimin could say anything. He sighed, pouting as he heard you laughing at him.

You bit your lip, wishing you could star into his eyes without a screen in between you two. You gazed at him for a little longer before stating, “I’ll see you when you get home baby. I love you.”

“Okay princess, I love you too,” he replied, blowing you a kiss. He hung up, your cute giggles echoing in his ears.

He got up from his seat, huffing out a breath, and then headed over to where the rest of his band mates were waiting for him. They all walked out on stage, interacting with the fans who got early access. After talking to them and joking around, they started going through their set list, making sure everything was in order and ready to hold the actual concert. Two hours later, they were getting ready for their first song. Time flew by and before Jimin knew it, the concert ended and they were saying their goodbyes to their loving and loyal fans.

Tiredly following behind his friends, he made his way over to where his phone was. Clicking the home button, his lock-screen lit up up the screen. He gazed at it happily, it was a picture of you and him cuddling on the couch fast asleep. His smile fell into a confused frown when he saw a random number had called and left a voicemail. Unlocking his phone, he listened to the voicemail, feeling his heart stop and drop in his chest.

“Hello Mr. Park, this is Dr. Kim. I’m calling to let you know your girlfriend has gone in to labor and to get to Severance Hospital as quick as you can.”

As soon as the line went silent, he dropped to his knees. His hearing was going in and out, gasping for oxygen, vision blurring. He could faintly hear someone yelling his name, trying to calm him down from the panic attack he was having.

Finally coming to his senses, he stumbled to his feet, weakly repeating, “I n-need to get to the hospital. I need to get to the hospital. I need...” Namjoon grabbed his shoulders.

“Jimin, Jimin! Why do you need to go hospital?” Namjoon’s voice was stern, attempting to get through to him.

Jimin looked at his hyung with tears in his eyes,”Y/n, s-she went into labor five hours ago. I need to get to her, I can’t miss this. I can’t hyung.” Namjoon nodded, and helped him gather his things, then proceeding with him to the car waiting for him.

Getting into the vehicle, Namjoon held Jimin as he cried. His heart broke for the younger man that was like his brother. He knew Jimin would hate himself if he wasn’t there to help you bring your son into the world. He knew Jimin didn’t want you to go through all the pain alone. Suddenly the car slowed to a stop, and the eldest of the two moved the curtain to see if they were there. He was shocked to see they were stuck in traffic, still three hours away from the hospital.

“Namjoon-ah, why are we stopped?” Jimin asked him, completely afraid to hear the answer, that he forgot to use honorifics. Though, Namjoon didn’t care at that moment.

The driver’s voice answered Jimin’s question before Namjoon could, “There seems to be an accident up ahead. Which explains all this traffic. We should get there in the next four to five hours.”

“Four to five hours?! No! I have to be there now, I can’t, I can’t miss any more. Is there any way we could get there faster?” Jimin started to hyperventilate, eyes darting around.

Namjoon placed his hands on Jimin’s, voice calm and even, “Jimin-ah, it’ll be okay, I promise.” Though, his words did nothing to reassure the dancer.

True to the driver’s words, they arrived four hours later. Jimin didn’t even wait for the car to come to a stop before he was out of the vehicle and dashing inside. As soon as he got your room number, he ran to you. Bursting through the door, he was graced with the sight of you smiling down at your son. You looked up when he walked over. He expected you to be frowning or yelling at him, full of anger. Yet, you were anything but that. Instead, you gave him an exhausted smile, before handing over your baby to him. Jimin lovingly gazed at him, his thumb softly grazing the infant’s cheek.

Taehyung

“5, 6, 5, 6, 7, 8,” Hoseok’s voice rang throughout the room for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. In reality, they had only been practicing for an hour and a half, but it had already been a long day. Starting from eleven in the morning, they had two interviews, a photo shoot, and now rehearsal. Taehyung had asked you if you wanted to join them, which he was hoping you would agree, but you had told him you would be fine at your shared apartment. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. You were 39 weeks pregnant and ready to give birth any minute now, so could you really blame him for wanting you to be with him at all times?

Coming back to the task at hand, Taehyung started dancing to Baepsae alongside the rest of the members. Hoseok finally let them all have a small break after going through different songs for half an hour. Greedily gulping in breaths of oxygen, Taehyung slumped against the wall, pulling out his phone from his bag. Turning it on, he waited for everything to load. Once it did, he saw he had more than fifty messages, all from you. His breath hitched when he read through them.

You: Hey Taehyungie, don’t freak out, but my water broke and Minseo is bringing me to the hospital

You: Okay, the doctor just left and said I’m only 5 centimeters dilated so you still have time to get here

You: Update, I’m now 7 centimeters

You: Taehyung, where the fuck are you? I’m 8 centimeters. I start pushing at 10.

You: I swear to god, if you’re not here soon we’re gonna have a problem.

You: It’s Minseo, Y/n can’t text because she’s currently pushing, but she wants me to tell you “If you’re not here in the next 20 minutes, I’m gonna divorce your ass you fucking dick.”

Checking the time, he saw the last message was sent not even five minutes ago. Hopping up from the floor, he ran out of the room without any indication on where he was going. The other boys yelled after him, but he was already long gone. Taehyung threw the company doors open and ran all the way to the hospital. When he arrived, he only had five minutes to get to you. He wasn’t going to lie, he was scared you actually would divorce him. He panted as the door banged against your hospital room’s wall.

“I’m here! Please don’t be mad and divorce me!” he yelled out, hands on his knees as he heaved. The doctors and nurses all chuckled, but you were glaring at him with heated eyes.

You put your hand out towards him, growling, “Get your ass over here and hold my hand. Now.” He tripped on his way over, letting you have a death grip on his hand. He felt your hand shaking and looked up to observe your face. You were biting your lip, eyes wide and scared. He grasped your chin, softly turning your face towards his. Staring into your eyes, he gave you a soothing smile, kissing your lips.

Many hours had passed, it was well into the night, when your daughter was born. The two of you teared up when you heard her beautiful cries. She was placed in your arms and was currently sleeping. Taehyung barely ran a finger down the side of her face. She was absolutely beautiful and looked like the both of you.

Jungkook

Jungkook and you were chilling in his bed, watching some movie that you forgot the name of. He was completely entranced by it, while you were bored out of your mind. You were also starving for some greasy food. Grunting, you untangled your limbs from his and got up.

“Where ya goin?” Jungkook mumbled, not entirely focused on you. You just walked out without telling him. If he wasn’t going to give you his whole attention you weren’t going to give him any. Sure, you were being petty, but you were pregnant so it was a good enough excuse.

Trudging into the dorm kitchen, you opened the fridge, and looked at all your options. The thing that caught your eye was Jungkook’s left over lamb skewers. Smiling, you heated them up and then headed back to the comfy bed. You waddled over and sat back down next to your boyfriend. Said man looked over when a delicious smell entered his nose. It was silent, the only sound being the movie still playing. Well, before Jungkook rudely interrupted it.

“Are those my lamb skewers?!” he exclaimed, mouth dropped in shock.

You smiled and happily ate them, “Yup!” Your voice was cheerful and light, causing Jungkook to get his signature ‘Jungshook’ face. If you weren’t carrying his child, he would have fought you for taking his food. Seeing as you were, and he really didn’t want to see you cry or have to sleep on the couch again, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he just turned back to face the TV in his room.

An hour later, and you gasped, your hand flying through the air and smacking him in the face. He let out a startled noise, jumping away from you. His palm touched his reddening check, staring at you in disbelief.

“Why the fuck did you just hit me? I let you have my last skewers!” he yelled out, glaring at you.

You looked at him in excitement, “Kookie! I just had a contraction!” His eyes grew in size, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Why were you excited when he was scared?

“W-what? What does that mean?” he innocently questioned you, not having a clue of what you meant.

You danced in your spot, “It means we’re gonna have a baby with us soon!” He froze, absolute fear coursing through him.

“No.” he said one word, and that word not only broke you, but it angered you as well.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a scowl on your face, “Excuse me? What do you mean no?” Whatever game he was playing at was not funny.

“No. I-I don’t want the baby anymore!” he blurted out, even though he knew that wasn’t true. He was the one that was the most excited about having a child with you. He was just scared he wasn’t going to be a good enough dad. What if he dropped it? Or what if he forgot he even had a baby when he was playing a game?

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Well it’s a little too late for that don’t you think Jungkook?” Your words were ice cold, and it made him shrink in on himself. He didn’t want to make you mad at him.

“I do want the baby!” he frantically said, not wanting you to leave him.

Uncrossing you arms, you looked at him bewildered, “Which one is it Jungkook? Do you want the baby or not?” You were getting tired of this small fight, and of the small cramps that were from the contractions. You noted in your head that they were seven minutes apart and you’d need to leave for the hospital soon.

“I’m just...I’m scared I won’t be a good father, and that you’ll leave me when you realize this..” his voice was quiet, trailing off towards the end.

You brought him into a loving embrace, “Hey, hey, Kookie. You’re gonna be the best dad ever. Don’t worry.” He took a shaky inhale and nodded, helping you up so you could get ready to go.

Around 8:41PM, you were pushing and pushing, exhausted from all the work. Jungkook was standing next your bed, face white as a ghost as he stared at your pain filled face. God, he felt like he was going to throw and pass out. When the doctor announced that your babies, one girl and one boy, did he actually pass out, leaving you to sigh and hold your children. 

uhhh idk how I made this tiny font, I hit a random button while holding down ctrl, but it’s so cute. if anyone knows how I did this please let me know! 

[dont-doubt-dopple]

The Story

A/N: Two Things. One, in this story Swagger is referred to as Eric. Three, there are some more disturbing elements in here. Read at your own caution. Other than that, enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And they were never to be seen again.” Brian spoke, wiggling his fingers to put emphasis on his spooky tone. Brock was on the edge of his seat as he listened, the two Canadians were half listening and half zoned out, and David was practically falling asleep in his chair. “Until their bodies washed up on a river about a week later, but that’s not important.

“What?!” Smitty exclaimed. “You can’t just ... fucking end it like that!”

“That just ruins the whole mystery to it.” Brock pointed out. “Bodies means cops, Cops means investigation, and investigation means a possible capture of the monster.”

“Hey.” Evan whispered to David as the others started to argue. “We’re shitting on Brian. Wake up.”

“FOK OFF BRIAN!!” David yelled before falling back onto the ground. Everyone stopped and stared at him. “What? I heard we were shitting on Brian.”

“Yeah, for telling a terrible story.” Smitty jabbed.

“Like you could do better!” The Irishman challenged, and Smitty nodded. He rose and cracked his fingers, shaking them out like he was warming up.

“Alright boys. Get ready to be scared. Once, there were five idiots.”

“Hey!” Evan exclaimed.

“Five different idiots.” He clarified. “Besides, I don’t see Brock as an idiot or Nogla as a full person.” Brock beamed as David flipped the bird at Smitty. The youngest chuckled before continuing. “Anyways, the first reason these five were idiots was because they were walking through the woods during a full moon on Friday the 13th.”

“Who the fuck thought this was a good idea?” Cam asked his friends behind him. When Mason raised his hand shyly, he really only sighed. Of course one of two people usually high on some sort of drugs thought this was a good idea.

“Dude, I thought this would be quicker home. I think ... Eric showed me this trail.”

“No, don’t say that. Wasn’t me.” Eric refuted. “I wouldn’t touch this place with a ten foot pole. Maybe it was Jay.”

“Nooooo.” Jay whined. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was you.” Mason continued. “We were either high on weed or LSD and you pointed this place out.”

“I know what I’m like when I’m high, and I would not fucking come here high. Not even LSD would make ...”

“Alright, guys, can we cut out the fighting? It’s getting us nowhere.” Toby interrupted. “Let’s focus on the more pressing issue that we’re lost.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure these are THE woods. You know ... the ones with all the legends and stuff.” Mason said, running his hand across one of the trees. “Like the devil with one eye who kills you with his tail. Or the Jason ripoff who slices your head off if you touch his teddy. Or the half man half pi...” A hand from Jay over his mouth stopped him.

“You’re not helping.” He said. “I’m scared. We’re lost, and I don’t need to hear about the various ways I’ll DIE!”

“Let’s just calm down and focus on the decision ahead of us.” Cam suggested. “Which way: Left or Right?”

“Let’s go ... Left.” Eric said.

“Alright, we go Right.”

“I said left.”

“No offense, Cunt.” Mason butted in. “But you’re wrong about a lot of things. If Cam says Right, we go right. He’s gotten us this far.” Eric shook his head and began to follow the others. All except Toby, who stayed in the back. Toby, who froze when a particularly soft voice spoke in his ear.

“Your other friend was right.” The voice belonged to a man with platinum blond and rings scattered across his fingers. “Left is ri-correct. That’s a better word.”

“How do you know that? And who even are you?”

“Who I am is not important.” The stranger circled Toby. “Just know that I happen to know my way around these woods. And if you and group will allow it then I’ll happy to show you out.”

“Well ... thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“I just need your permission to come in.”

“Course you can come in.” The mystery man smiled. His eyes blinked black.

“Perfect.” He became dark and translucent, stepping into Toby’s body as he tried to scramble away. Toby’s eyes flashed black very briefly as the two became one entity before turning to their normal shade, albeit slightly darker. He then proceeded along, following the rest of his group in relative silence.

“So wait ...” David interjected, causing four pairs of eyes to stare at him. “The stranger was a ghost or a demon or what?”

“He’s a demon, Nogla.” Brian clarified. “Now c’mon, and shut the fuck up. This is getting interesting.”

“Continue Smit.” Brock said, and the younger Canadian nodded.

“So as I was saying ... the four idiots and one possessed idiot continued through the supposedly haunted woods ...”

“We’re going in fucking circles!” Eric cried, clearly frustrated with the lack of progress. “God I want to punch something so bad right now.”

“Dude, we’ll figure a way out of this.” Jay assured him. “Uhh ... maybe we could leave a trail of where we’ve been so we can retrace our steps?”

“With what?” Eric asked. “We don’t have bread or any shit that could help, all our phones are dead and even if they weren’t there’s no service, and it’s so dark that we can’t see a goddamn thing anyways.

“Guys, this is not the time to be fighting.” Cam asserted, stepping between the two.

“Well, do you have a better idea?!” Jay screamed, ignoring Cam’s protests. ‘Toby’ hung back from the drama. Cam sighed, and muttered to himself that this wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Maybe I do!”

Off to the side, Mason had found something else to steal his attention. It was a young kid, with messy black hair and seemingly different colored eyes. He was out of breath, with ripped clothes and choppy breaths. He quickly turned his head toward Mason, who staggered back in surprise.

“There’s ... there’s something in those woods.” The stranger breathed. “It ... It was chasing me so I ran and now I’m lost and ... and I don’t know what I should be doing.” He sneezed once, twice, three times.

“God bless you.” Mason said, not sure what else he should say.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The mysterious man grinned.

“The words I needed to hear right now.” He began to run at Mason, who raised his arms as the stranger tackled toward him. But instead of going down to the ground, he went through his body. Mason fell to the ground; his eyes lighting up two separate colors. He giggled again.

“You okay?” ‘Mason’ looked up to see ‘Toby’ offering him a hand. “Little weird to see you trip over nothing.”

“Shut up, Gay Man.”

“Whatever Dude.” ‘Toby’ winked as he helped ‘Mason’ up. They both nodded to each other.

“Uh ... guys?” Cam called out from a nearby clearing. Eric and Jay quickly joined on either side to see a pentagram inscribed into the ground. Candles protruding from skulls—real human skulls—littered the surrounding area. An alter rested in the back, with an ancient looking book resting atop it. The smell of herbs filled the air, but not that we’re easily recognizable.

“What ...”

“... the ...”

“ ... Fuck?”

The terms barely escaped the three mouths before Jay and Eric screamed, falling to their knees with knifes in their backs. Cam turned around in a panic to see Toby and Mason, both with pitch black eyes pulling out the weapons with no remorse. Cam took a step back with each step Toby took toward him until he could feel himself pressed up against Mason. The other held him in placed as his former best friend drove a knife through his stomach. He stabbed repeated, until Cam could no longer hold his eyes open. Toby and Mason stood in the middle of the circle and, with a single nod, slit their throats. The two demons floated out without a scratch while their mortal counterparts collapsed as they choked on their own blood. They look down, proud of their work.

“Another sacrifice.” The first one said.

“Another century.” The other confirmed.

“The bodies were never found.” Smitty concluded. “And it’s still rumored that the demons that killed them still inhabit the woods, coming out every full moon of October to lengthen their lives with more blood and bodies.”

“Wow.” Brock breathed. “That was ... wow.”

“I’m still not convinced that it was better than mine.” Brian said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“What?! Mine was totally better.” Smitty exclaimed.

“Give me one reason it was better.”

“Well,” Smitty said, his eyes turning darker until they were pitch black. “I never said it was a FICTIONAL story.” Four pairs of eyes widened in newfound fear as the realization of the situation dawned on them. Evan tried to turn around, to escape this fate, but was stopped as the shadow of John stepped into view. He held a knife in his hand, already dropped with blood.

“Now, who wants to die first?”

[authoressskr]

Twice Marked

Pairing: Reader x Dean OR Sam (Future)

Characters: Reader (Y/N Washington), Myka Washington (Reader’s Twin/OFC), John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Tami Washington (Reader's Mother/OFC), Mentions of Pastor Jim, Bobby Singer and Mary Winchester

Soulmate AU (Part One)

The reader has both soulmate marks - good luck finding which Winchester is yours.

Note: Do NOT repost, copy and paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION. -+- REBLOGGING is fine! -+-

Myka Washington was born October 28th, 1989 on a moonless, rainy night.  As she let out her first cries, the nurse dutifully cleaned the newborn as her mother worked to bring her twin into the world. And three minutes later, Y/N came crying as the nurse frowned down at Myka. She had no soulmate mark. She pursed her full lips, checking the newborn over again. The training nurse, filling out the paperwork beside her, looks from the baby to Nurse Dale.

“What is it, Dale?”

“This baby has no soulmate marking.” You could have heard a pin drop as another nurse, Kelsie, set the second born down beside her sister. The twins press right against each other as all the adults share a look.

“Check her again.” The doctor insists, joining the nurses to look at the twins.

“I think I found it,” Kelsie announced, her voice soft but strained. She moved the younger twin’s left arm, revealing a soulmate mark then pulled the tiny diaper down to reveal yet another on her hip.

“What is it?” Their mother called out breathlessly, concern and worry apparent in her chocolate brown eyes.

“It appears, uh, that your youngest daughter has both her and her sister’s soulmate markings.”

The silence returned, a thickness that swallowed the adults and passed unnoticed by the two babies, pressed tight against each other.

---

They were six when they met John, Dean and Sam Winchester. Dean was sixteen, Sam just twelve. Their mother offered to watch the boys in repayment for John fixing things around her house that she couldn’t and for fixing the timing belt on her little Hyundai. Dean hovered near Sam like a shadow for nearly an hour before relaxing a little as a movie was put on, Sam watched as the twins hummed along with the first song. He had homework he had been working on, Dean finishing his own in record time before making small talk with the girl’s mother, Tami. Sam’s shaggy head had tilted to the right ever so slightly, watching one color, the other holding tightly to her blue crayon as she stood in front of the television and watched Pocahontas paddle down the river. Her little voice held such conviction as she sang, even Dean leaned closer to watch the little girl.

“She loves Pocahontas. Although Belle is her favorite. Asked if I could find her a teacher so she could learn Indian.” Their mother chuckled before setting down a plate of fried chicken between Sam and Dean. “The girls already ate. Help yourselves.” The boys ate in silence, watching the two little girls before Sam returned to his homework.

Dean watched as the one with the crayon sniffled, rubbing her left hand over and under her nose as Pocahontas left John Smith as a prisoner.

“How do you tell them apart?” Dean asked, collecting his and Sam’s plates before Tami took them from his hand, jerking her head to let him resume his seat.

“Right now? Their eyes. Myka’s are a darker blue, but Y/N are lightening up.”

“Ever get them mixed up?”

“There is zero chance of that,” Tami answered sadly and Dean knew not to press.

“How? They’re identical. I’d be afraid of mixing them up.” Sam pressed, not looking at Dean’s slight head movement.

“Their soulmate marks are different.”

“Oh,” Sam answered lamely, bending his head to finish his science homework and to hide the blush that rose up on his cheeks.

“It’s alright, Sam. I’ve been asked tons of questions about them since they were born.” She was about to continue when the one that had been holding the blue crayon wandered into the small dining area, gently tugging at her little purple shirt, staring at the ground. “Yes, Y/N?” Her little eyes flitted over to Sam and Dean, blushed and tugged at her mother’s shirt. She bent down, letting her whisper what she wanted before quickly scurrying from the room. Tami tried to keep a straight face but once Sam looked at her, she couldn’t help it. A bubble of laughter rushed out of her as she finally set the plates in the sink. “Y/N wanted to know if you two were princes.”

“Why’d she ask that?” Dean asked, bewildered, forehead wrinkling slightly.

"Because you two are so pretty." Tami managed to get out before another short bout of laughter.

"Mommy." Sam and Dean's head snapped to the little girl, holding a coloring page up for her mother to view. Tami dried her hands quickly, taking the paper.

"Very lovely. You stayed in the lines so well!" The little girl walked calmly back over to the coffee table and returned, sliding the page onto the table where Sam and Dean sat - Sam closing his science book before peering down at the page.

"That's very nice." Sam complimented, pushing it closer to Dean.

"Uh, yeah, nice." Dean agreed, handing the paper back to the child.

"No. It's for you two." She points to the green triceratops. "This one is Sam." She points to a red one. "This is your daddy." And this one," Her tiny finger points to the last triceratops, done in blue, "Is you, Dean." Dean looked from the paper to the other little girl who was now holding tightly to a brown bear with a little red bowtie as she worked to put a different VHS into the VCR.

"Thank you, Y/N." He called out to her, smiling. Y/N dropped the VHS and then her gaze. He half turned around when he heard a soft "You're welcome" called out. "And thank you Myka for delivering this to us."

"You're welcome." Myka beamed at the brothers before retreating to the living room and her twin.

It's nearly two hours later, all of them gathered in the living room, Sam watching National Geographic as Dean flips through a car magazine when Y/N turns in the seat beside her mother before raising up on her knees and whispering. Myka peeks around her sister, curious.

"Can the girls listen to some music before bed?" Sam snapped the tv off immediately.

"Of course." Sam and Dean answer in tandem.

"You boys like Def Leppard?" Tami asked with a knowing smile as Y/N scrambled down and easily located the cassette, handing it eagerly to her mother before her sister leaned over and made a face.

"Y/N, not that one." She tried to tug the cassette from her sister's hand.

"Now, Myka, your sister asked. This is what she wants." Dean is struck suddenly by the fact this six-year-old little girl wants to listen to Def Leppard. But Myka doesn't relent, still tugging at the cassette. Dean stands up, peering down at the pair and the box Y/N clung to.

"I like that one too." Her little head tilts back to look at him, showing him a wide smile with lots of little pearly teeth showing.

"I don't!" Myka snaps before shoving her little sister. Dean snatched Y/N before her little butt touched the floor, cradling her against his chest, out of reach of her sister. Tami swatted Myka's hand sharply and pointed to the bedroom.

"You go to bed early." Myka shot both Dean and her sister a look before she trudged down the hall and into her bedroom. Y/N had tears spilling out of her eyes and Tami was about to reach for her daughter when Dean gently took the cassette from her and held it out.

"Let's listen to some Def Leppard, huh?" He sat back down, settled Y/N besides him on the loveseat with Sam sitting on the floor just in front of her. "What's your favorite?" Dean asks as the first song, Rock! Rock! (Til You Drop), began.

"The I want rock and roll one. And the picture one." Sam rolled his eyes. Of course, they'd find a kid who liked Def Leppard.

"I like those ones too." Tami resumed her seat, happy her daughter finally spoke to Dean.

"Myka wanted to listen to the Beatles." Y/N said softly, playing with her fingers.

"You don't like the Beatles?"

"She just wants to listen to Pepper."

"That's a good song."

"Lucy is better. Help is better. My favorite is All You Need is Love. And Jude!"

"Hey, Jude is my favorite Beatles song," Dean answered honestly, watching those blue eyes light up at his reply. Sam looked at his brother, watching the exchange. Dean was never that honest with strangers, especially with people whom they'd only met a week ago. But Dean was a great big brother.

"Will you walk us to school tomorrow? You walk Sam."

"Oh honey, I'll walk you. No need to bother Dean." Dean watched Y/N's face fall slightly before she smiled at her mother.

"Okay." Dean knew that face. He'd worn that mask more than a few times himself, and he knew that Sam wore it often now.

"It's no trouble, Miss Washington," Dean assured as Y/N looked cautiously hopeful toward her mother. "I'm already walking Sam."

Sam moved to flip the cassette in the radio to Side B. Tami made a face at Dean.

"You don't have to."

"Naw, now that she's talking to me I need to find out what else my girl listens to." Dean does that dazzling smile that every girl in his class is already head over heels for. "I promise to look after her just like I do Sammy." He swore and at his serious expression, Tami relented.

"Alright. If you and Myka don't listen to everything Dean says, this'll never happen again, understand?" Y/N nodded enthusiastically before she shot off the loveseat, grabbed two books and settled back beside Dean.

"Can I read to you, Dean?" Dean nodded - watched as her little fingers turned the first few pages before she began. Not even halfway through she nodded off, her little head resting against Dean's ribs.

"She never takes to people this quick. Let alone men." Tami moved to pick up Y/N, but a knock came at the door. She changed directions and opened the front door to reveal John Winchester.

"Boys behave?" He asked softly, watched as Dean picked up one of the twins and disappeared down the hall. Sam gathered their backpacks and waited at the door beside his father.

"Of course. They are very courteous and the girls really took a shine to them."

"Good. Good." Dean reappeared, holding his hand out to shake Tami's as he halted at the door.

"I'll be here at 7:45 to walk the girls to school, ma'am."

"Come at 7:30 and have breakfast." John nodded at her words, giving a soft smile.

"Glad the boys weren't trouble and are looking after your girls. We'll see you tomorrow then."

"Goodnight Winchesters."

---

The next week had followed in a different routine than neither Dean or Sam had ever been used to. They left the motel at 7:15, walked to Tami's then they'd have breakfast with them, Myka bouncy and eager while Y/N was quiet, observing the goings on. They'd leave the house at 7:45, Y/N latching onto Dean's hand with her right and Sam's with her left, while Myka had her hand in Sam's, but would hold onto his jacket or backpack if she got distracted.

That morning, however, Y/N was acting off. She had just picked at her breakfast, asking for her long hair to be put into a ponytail and had bitten off several of her little fingernails waiting for them to leave.

"You okay, Y/N?" Her little grip is tighter than usual.

"She didn't sleep good. She had bad dreams. Said men with pointy teeth were coming to hurt you and Sam." Dean froze at Myka's words, shot a look to Sam before he dropped to one knee in front of Y/N. He gave her the same reassuring smile he'd always delivered to Sam over the years.

"Hey." She made no move to look at him. "Hey." He tipped her chin up with his forefinger, watched as those light blue eyes met his. "You know I'm not gonna let some guys with pointy teeth keep me away from my girl, right?"

"They hurt you. Then they hurt Sam. Then they came and hurt Mommy and Myka and me."

"I'll never let -"

"Dean!" A feminine voice rang out, caused everyone to look at the girl who crossed the street. A girl Sam recognized as Melissa Main, Dean's current squeeze. Dean rose as Melissa came to a bouncing halt. "Aww, I didn't know you had little sisters!"

"They aren't our sisters," Sam answered, watched as Y/N hid behind Dean, John's old leather jacket shielded her mostly from Melissa.

"You are just walking these little girls to school? Just because you can? Dean, that is beyond sweet. And so noble and protective."  Her voice had dropped with the last line and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Come on Myka, Y/N, we're gonna be late." Sam tugged gently at Y/N's hand, trying to get her to move and after another tug she relented. "Dean will catch up in a minute." He soothed, flashing Y/N a dimpled smile. She gave a long glance to Dean and Melissa before she fell in step with Sam.

They normally would walk in silence unless Myka or Sam were talking, but once they were out of earshot, Y/N looked at Sam, furrowed her little forehead a few times as her mouth opened and closed.

Then she managed to get it out.

"If Dean likes that girl, can I be your girl Sam?" She asked so softly Sam nearly missed it. Myka peered around Sam to look at her little sister's hopeful expression.

"Of course, Y/N. You can be my girl."  Myka frowned at Sam's words.

"Why you want to be Dean and Sam's girl? Boys are gross and mean."

"Sam and Dean aren't!"

"Okay, girls. One more block. No fighting." He slowed as they came to the crosswalk. Still no Dean. While the crossing guard on the other side waited, Sam glanced down at Myka then Y/N. "Myka's right though Y/N." She peered up at him. "Boys are mostly gross." He grinned down at her as she wrinkled her little button nose. The crossing guard walked to the middle of the crosswalk, waved them through and the three continued down the sidewalk. Sam made sure to walk the girls to the gate, Myka rushed through with Y/N about to do the same when Sam called her name. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" Her high ponytail bobbed as she nodded up at him. "Why do you wanna be our girl? Mine or Dean's?"

"You're both nice. You don't have to be nice." She kicked at the grass before meeting his gaze again. "The boys at school aren't, they are always trying to kiss Myka and me. They pull our hair and hit us with Transformers and Power Rangers. But you and Dean let me read to you, you tell me stuff 'bout the stuff you watch on tv - like the ocean and how its real, real deep in the Pacific Ocean. You ask me about my dinosaurs and Dean watches Casper with me when I finish my homework. You both help with our homework and you guys smell good. You share snacks, let us play with your hair since it's longer than Dean's, and tell good stories. You and Dean are like princes in a story, pretty and nice and you watch out for me and Myka." Everything she listed was said so matter-of-factly that it had taken Sam by surprise. Dean jogged up behind as Sam, who'd crouched down to be eye-level with Y/N, stood.

"Sorry, princess." Dean apologized as Y/N tugged on her backpack's straps.

"It's okay." But she didn't look at Dean and he frowned.

"Someth-"

"Head in, we'll see you when school is over." She nodded at Sam, her eyes flitted to Dean before she bounded into the interior yard towards the kindergarten building on the back side of the campus.

"What was that about?" Dean asked as they started to the junior high and high school combo another block and a half away.

"Y/N said you liked Melissa, so she wanted to be my girl," Dean smirked at his little brother before his jaw clenched. "And I asked her why at the gate, she told me it's cause we are nice, share snacks, play with them and help them with homework or explain tv shows to them. And that the boys in kindergarten try to kiss her and Myka or they pull their hair or hit them with toys. So, she'd rather be ours." He paused, tried to gage Dean's mood. "Myka just said boys are mean and gross. Didn't seem too impressed with her sister."

"Don't get attached, Sammy. Dad should be done with the hunt in a few days." Sam turned, jerking his brother's arm as he faced him at Dean's blank tone.

"I get that, Dean. But maybe you shouldn't have volunteered to walk them to school. Maybe we shouldn't have played with them. But we did. It happened. You like them just as much as I do. Don't do that thing."

"What thing?"

"Where you pretend this doesn't bother you. Their mom is nice. Myka and Y/N are nice. When we leave in a few days, it's gonna crush them...especially Y/N."

"She's young enough she'll get over it, Sam." The bell rang loudly, less than a half dozen yards away. "Get to class, bitch." Sam didn't respond, just headed toward his class, leaving Dean to huff out an irritated breath before heading to his own homeroom.

---

Tami's Hyundai was waiting when the girls got out a little after one, Myka tugged at her sister's hand, lead her to where Tami stood at the gate. Tami kissed each of her daughters' heads, taking one of each of their hands in her own.

"Still not feeling great baby?" Tami asked as she led the girls to her car, paused to peer down at her youngest.

"Y/N is upset 'cause Ty kissed her and then she hit him," Myka revealed as she climbed into her seat.

"Y/N!" Tami chided, buckling in Myka as Y/N sat patiently beside her.

"He kissed me, Momma. Said I was his girlfriend now. But I'm not! I'm Sam's girl." Tami pursed her lips, looked from one daughter to another.

"Did you say no? Did you tell the teacher?" She closed the back door then climbed into the driver's seat. "And you don't hit."

"Mommy, you said if we start a fight, finish it." Myka butted in.

"No, that is not what I said! I said if you get into a fight, you finish it. Not start one and finish it. You should be able to defend yourselves. But not to be a bully."

"I wasn't being a bully! He tried at first recess and I told Miss Linda. Myka told teacher too! But then he kissed me after lunch and I didn't want him to kiss me."

"Cause you're Sam's girl?" Tami asked as they pulled from the parking lot, making a mental note to talk to their teacher tomorrow. "When did that start?"

"This mornin'. She was Dean's girl until Dean stayed behind to talk to his girlfriend." Myka's voice was taunting as she said the word "girlfriend".

"Well, honey, Dean is a big boy, and he's gonna like bigger girls. Sam's a big boy too. Both are going to be good looking boys when they get done growing. And you're only six, sweetie. You have a long time before your grown, Y/N. You too Myka." Tami caught her twins make identical faces; wrinkled up little noses and blue eyes rolled.

"I'm Sam's girl." Y/N muttered before sticking her fingers in her mouth again to bite her tiny nails as Myka makes a disgusted noise.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Y/N promptly removes her fingers and shakes her head, shifting her gaze to look out the window.

"Nothing." Both girls answer in tandem, and the rest of the drive home is filled only with the sounds of the local country station.

---

That evening, when the boys arrive, neither twin is anywhere to be seen.

"They're playing in their room." Tami filled them in. "I made you guys a snack, it's on the table. Start on your homework, please. And Dean? Don't forget to do your algebra homework, your father mentioned that this morning." Dean grumbled but obediently pulled out his algebra homework.

Ten minutes later, Dean is biting the end of his pencil, staring at his last algebra problem when he felt little eyes on him.

Peering from the hallway was Y/N, Myka just behind her smoothing a hand over her sister's locks. She looked from where he sat to the front door before little tears fell from her eyes. Y/N quickly wiped them away and entered the room timidly.

"Hello, Sam. Hello, Dean." Dean tried unsuccessfully to hide the frown that appeared. She always told him hello first. He forced a smile onto his lips, calling out his own hello as she climbed into the seat next to Sam. He shouldn't be so bothered by this switching of affection, but it tugged at something deep inside his chest. Twisted it tight in his gut as those little blue eyes looked up at Sam instead of himself. That's when the thought first pricked at the back of his mind. What if she's my soulmate? Or, God he hated himself for this thought, worse - Sam's?

There was a loud thump somewhere outside the front windows, making both girls jump as Sam and Dean rose in tandem, giving each other a slight nod before easing closer to the darkening autumn light of the front picture windows. Tami walked carefully to the front door, opening it a sliver.

"Can I help you?"

"He sent me to pick up his sons. Send them out." His voice was gruff, and not one either boy recognized. John would only leave them in Bobby or Pastor Jim's care. He would never send someone they didn't know - wouldn't entrust Mary's sons' safety to a stranger.

"Don't let him in." Dean countered as he moved beside Tami, looking at the man who was not much taller than Tami, maybe hitting 5'7". Dean's keen eye picked up on the blood by the left edge of his collar. The man chuckled, shoving Tami and Dean backward as he stepped over the devil's trap John had drawn into the underside of the Washington's welcome mat. "Sam!" Dean yelled, scrambling to his feet and shoving Tami behind him as he withdrew a short silver knife from his boot. Sam had gathered the twins, pushing them towards their bedroom only for the vampire to leap over the coffee table towards them.

"Tasty little morsels. Came for the Winchester boys, but look at what I've stumbled upon!" He groans, flashing those second-row pointed teeth before being rushed by Dean. He promptly tossed Dean into the wall above the couch as Tami brought a heavy metal bat across his back before he swatted her across the room where she hit with a heavy thud.

With Dean and Tami out, Sam clutched the silver pie server that he'd thought to grab from Tami's china cabinet, both girls huddled behind him under the breakfast bar between the stools. The vampire crept closer, eyeballing the youngest Winchester with a smirk.

"Think of how your daddy is gonna feel - coming in here to see all these little bodies. All these people he couldn't save..." He clicked his tongue against his teeth, easing closer still. Sam waited until he was close, letting the vampire make the first move before thrusting the pie server as hard as he could into the vampire’s side. The vampire let out a loud roar, swinging his arm wide and tossing Sam across the room near his brother.

As the vampire turned his attention back to the twins, he wrinkled his forehead, finding them gone from their poor hiding spot.

He turned to find one of them clutching the silver knife, her light blue eyes hard as she stood in front of the adults, her twin attempting to wake their mother. The vampire moved forward confidently, only to have the little girl hurl the bloody pie server at his head, the knife still clutched in her tiny hand. He chuckled at the brazenness of the child. Perhaps he'd keep her...

Dean raised his head, seeing Sam just arm’s length away, shaking his head to clear it. What he didn’t expect to see was Y/N standing with her little back to him, clutching his knife as she stood bravely between them and the vamp.

The vampire rushed forward, only to be knocked sideways suddenly by John. And when the vamp regained his footing, his headless body slumped forward as Dean hurriedly checked over Sam with a quick nod. John watched as Dean knelt carefully in front of Y/N, taking the knife from her grip and talking to her softly as her twin threw her little body at Sam - asking if her mother was going to be okay in sobbed whispers.

“Hey, Y/N. That’s my girl.” His son’s large hand sweeps over the little girl’s hair, smiling kindly at her. “You were very brave, thank you for protecting us.” She was staring off just over Dean’s broadening shoulders and John felt a sharp tug in his gut. He’d been the cause of all this. The vampire had followed his scent back here and sent this little girl into shock. “Y/N.” Dean pushes a little, cupping her little face as she finally looks at him. John moves to pick up Tami, ordering Sam and Dean to grab the girls so they could go back to the motel.

“Dean.” Y/N whispers as Dean picks her up, propping her on his hip while Sam took Myka’s hand and followed behind John, Dean picking up the rear.

“Yeah?” He tucked himself into the passenger seat, Y/N unwilling to let him go as he buckled her in.

“I’ll miss you.” John shot a look at Dean over her head before meeting his youngest son’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He knew Dean didn’t have the heart to lie to her or to feed her a line. His sons were already both too attached.

“I’ll miss you too.”

---

When Tami awoke an hour or so later, John sat her on the edge of the worn motel mattress and told her about everything that goes bump in the night while her daughters watched an old western, Myka speaking softly to Sam as Y/N sat quietly pressed against Dean. He explained he’d already gotten rid of the vampire’s body and to keep the welcome mat to keep out demons.

“I lost my wife to the supernatural. My boys have adjusted. So, will your girls. Y/N is a little spitfire.”

“Y/N?” Tami questions, looking over to the quieter half of her twins.

“She stood in front of you, Dean and Sam with Dean’s knife. That’s what I saw when I came in to handle the vamp.” John casts a fond look at the little girls with his sons. “Got a pair of fine girls, Tami.” He pats her knee before rising from his kneeling position. “I’ve made a list of things to always keep in your house,” He hands her a folded paper before rolling his shoulders. “You three will stay here tonight. We’ll be leaving in the morning, Tami.” Tami nods numbly before moving across the room and gathering her daughters to sleep. John jerked his head to the other bed, letting Sam and Dean have it while he slept on the small couch, his chest tight. He’d been unable to spare those two innocent little girls from this glimpse of terror - and in the morning, he’d have to pull his sons away from those little girls, probably never to be seen again.

Tagging: @chelsea072498 @lucis-unicorn @sakurablossom4 @clockworkmorningglory

[mercurygray]

Emmry, cardinal?

[send me a ship and a word from the list and I’ll write a fic!]

“Make me a bird, Auntie Emma!”

Emma looked up from her seat near the Christmas tree, lost in the smell of balsam and Emerson’s thoughts on Self-reliance before a flock of children, ranging in age from twelve to seven pounced upon her skirts and put flight to any headway she might have been making against the book of essays, which she’d been saving for a quiet moment.

This was their second (or was it third now?) Christmas together, and it was now their tradition to go to his sister Becca’s house to celebrate the season. There was always a tree, and plenty of gifts, and good food, and the company of Becca’s four children, all of whom were now arrayed before her in various panting states of excitement.

“Mama wants them out of the kitchen,” Jemma announced in her most patient-but-put-upon-older sister voice from the back of the group. “I know Uncle Henry said…”

“Uncle Henry may keep what he likes about not disturbing me,” Emma announced, marking her place in the book and rising, carefully, from the chair, her dress falling in ungaining folds around her swelling belly. “Shall I make you a bird, Ishabel?” she asked, crossing the room to the bookshelf and reaching for a volume at the very top.

“A bird, a bird!” Ishabel, the youngest, cried, still, at seven, given to transports of antic imagination. Emma smiled at her enthusiasm and went to sit on the sofa, the large, heavy volume in her hands.

“Now sit where everyone can see - not on my lap, Ishabel, please, there’s a good girl, and Dan can stand at the back, and Harry - Harry, please don’t hit your sister, there’s plenty of room here for everyone.” Emma looked up at her neice. “Does Jemma need a bird, too?” she asked, looking at Becca’s oldest child, now, at fourteen, old enough to be helping her mother in the kitchen.

Jemma stood wistfully for a moment and then shook her head. “Pick one without me,” she said, smiling at her aunt and turning back to the kitchen. Well, but there was no shame in that - Emma was sure she’d relish the time spent alone with her mother just as much as thier time with the book.

“Now, is everyone settled? Henry Edward, are your hands clean?” Harry submitted his fingers for inspection - mostly clean but at least not sticky. “Very good. We don’t want to get dirty fingerprints all over Mr. Audabon’s lovely pictures. You remember the rules - you can’t be the same bird twice.” And, settled, Emma opened the first volume of the Ornothological Biography to the first plate and began reading.

“THE WILD TURKEY. Meleagris Gallopavo. The great size and beauty of the Wild Turkey, its value as a delicate and highly prized article of food…”

They had begun the game on one of Emma’s first visits to the house when she and Henry were first married. She had taken down the book intent on looking up a bird she’d seen on her walk and Daniel, always interested in the forbidden preserve of the higher shelves, had wedged his way onto the sofa next to her to look at the pictures, and after several very insistent questions about the pictures had announced that he wanted to be the Great-footed Hawk. She’d shaken her head and turned back to the picture of the Baltimore Oriole, and described their intricate little nests and likened them to the ropes of grass Dan was fond of weaving in the summertime, and that was that - at dinner Daniel had announced that Aunt Emma had made him a bird, and proceeded to regale them all with all the things he’d learned that afternoon while reading with his aunt. After dinner Jemma and Harry and Ishabel had all demanded (and were given) birds - Jemma the Vireo, slim and singing, Harry the Carolina Parrot because he giggled at it, Ishabel the House Wren.

It was a great treat, seeing Mr. Audabon’s colored plates and reading the descriptions aloud, and every year the children changed, liking one description or another.  Now Jemma and Dan were tall enough to pull the book down themselves, but there was something sacred, it seemed, in the exercise of sitting down with Aunt Emma and having her read aloud.

They were still picking birds when Henry and Becca’s husband John came home, Jemma and Becca busy as ever in the kitchen, the lights in the parlor growing dim. Daniel and Harry ran to the door as their father and uncle came inside, shaking snow from off their boots, intent on seeing what their papa had brought home. “Spending time with Mr. Audabon again, I see,” Henry observed. “Which bird are you this year, Ishabel?”

“A chipping sparrow!” she announced proudly, showing him the picture. “For my hair-ribbon!” She held out the red ribbon and indicated the flash of red on the crown of the bird’s head.

Becca called for Ishabel to set the table, and Henry was left on the sofa with his wife for a few precious moments alone. “And what bird am I this year, Mrs. Hopkins?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“A cardinal,” she said, without a pause. Henry raised an eyebrow and glanced down at his waistcoat - which, obviously, had not suddenly turned to scarlet. She laughed at him. “There’s a pair that nest in the apple tree in the yard; they return to the same trees every year, and they mate for life. They make me think of home, and when I see you, I think of home, too.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head, his arm tightening around her shoulder. He smelled of soap and the cold outside, the parlor still filled with fir and balsam and, slowly, the roast turkey Becca was bringing out of the oven. In the dining room the children were loudly laying the table. “Birds in their little nests agree.”

—

The book Emma reads is not John James Audabon’s massive and well-known Birds of America, but rather his Ornithological Biography, which was published in a much smaller, easy to print version with text for the average consumer. You can appreciate the same pictures Jemma, Daniel, Harry and Ishabel do online at Wikicommons.

[jaskiersbard]

The Beginning of an Uncertain Future (Part 1) - a Newt/Tina fic

This was prompted by an anon who asked, “I want angst. Please. Maybe Tina leaving her family because of the war.”

This is going to be multi-chaptered to fit into more readable instalments 😊

So I kinda started to feel some inspiration for writing something to do with the war after I watched “Dunkirk” with my little sister, and I’ve been thinking about both Tina’s feelings if she’s sent off and the entire family’s too.

It was impossible to really fit it in exactly with any of my other Scamander-Children stories, but I did want to use the children I’d already created – for that reason, we’re saying that the story is sort of an AU/alternate pathway to what happened after “Lay Your Body Down”… This means that only Phoenix, Linnet and Leo are born. It could have happened in the following fics/in the place of “A Glimpse of Sunlight” but it didn’t…I don’t know if that makes sense. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Phoenix – 22nd June 1931 – 8-9 Linnet – 13th January 1933 - 7 Leo – 3rd March 1935 - 5

Set in 1940.

The letter arrived at breakfast on the Monday; the children were blissfully unaware of what it meant, of course, but their parents knew better upon seeing the official Ministry seal on the back of the envelope.

Newt watched silently as Tina opened the letter, her fingers trembling just the smallest amount, and he felt his heart sink into his stomach. He knew already what the letter would contain: Theseus had received one just a month beforehand, as had many others on the Investigative Team – knowing what was to come still didn’t make it any easier.

He continued to study her face as she read the letter, not saying a word; just a minute later, she raised her eyes to meet his across the table – and he knew. There was nothing to say – nothing that really could be said – and they were both all too aware of that.

It was Phoenix who was the first to look up and tilt his head, seemingly confused by the sudden silence. “Mum? Dad? Everything alright?”

“We’re fine,” Tina said quietly, folding the letter and tucking it into the pocket of her jacket. “Everything is absolutely fine, Phoenix – go back to breakfast.”

Their eldest son looked unconvinced as he reluctantly cast his eyes back down to his food; Linnet frowned and chewed her cereal thoughtfully as she looked between their mother and father, whilst Leo merely continued to attempt to make shapes with the leftover crusts of his toast. The children would need to be informed, of course, but not now – not at breakfast with the entire day ahead.

Newt held back a sigh and reached for his tea; the day was coming, he had known, he’d been expecting it…but it still didn’t hurt any less.

News of another bombing in central London reached Dorset by the time Tina arrived home; Leo, being the youngest, was none the wiser regarding the war – but his older siblings had caught on by now, even if their understanding of wars were childish and uninformed.

“The paper said it was Germans,” Phoenix said softly before dinner; Linnet pretended she was interested in her book, trying to block it out. “They’ve been bombing the Muggles… Do you think they’ll bomb us?”

“No,” Newt disagreed quickly, not wanting any of the children to feel frightened. “I shouldn’t think so; London is a big city, Phoenix, with a great many people – we live in the middle of the country. I don’t think they’ll bother bombing the country.”

“What about the other people?” Linnet asked, curiosity getting the better of her now. “Grindywall? Will he try to bomb us?”

Their father swallowed. “Grindelwald. No, I don’t think he’ll try to bomb us.”

Dinner was a rather sombre affair, though none of the children knew why; they were intelligent enough to pick up on the fact that their parents were sharing oddly furtive and morose looks, but it was unclear as to what those looks meant. Even Leo seemed to realize that things were frostier than usual, and he soon took to pushing mashed up bits of potato around his plate so that he could avoid looking at the rest of the family.

After dinner had been eaten and the washing up done, it was time for the usual ritual of helping to get the creatures settled for the night; it was only once the children had raced out of the shed to eagerly attend to some of the various creatures that Newt gently slipped his hand into Tina’s and cleared his throat.

“We need to talk about the letter.”

“Yeah…I guess we do.”

He took a deep breath before speaking again. “When are you to be…to be…”

“This Friday morning,” Tina told him softly.

“But that’s so…so soon.”

“I’m needed, Newt,” She stated, avoiding looking him in the eye; instead, she found herself gazing out over the numerous enclosures and habitats, at the children giggling in the distance as they petted some mooncalves. “They need people to fight and win the war.”

Her husband hesitated beside her, clearly uncertain as to whether he should voice his thoughts to her. “Tina, love, it’s not that I don’t think you should be fighting, it’s just that…the children.”

“If the Ministry needs me to fight-”

“Our children need their mother,” Newt stated, sounding pained. “I know that it’s your job and your duty, and I don’t begrudge you of that – but the children need you, Tina.”

Tina gnawed on her bottom lip, seemingly considering this proclamation. “I know the children need me. I don’t want to leave them,” She admitted. “You know that I don’t want to leave them, but…but I can’t stand by while other people – innocent people – are dying.”

He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes as her words sank in. “No, I know. I didn’t expect anything less of you, really.”

“I’ll be fine, Newt,” She tried to assure him half-heartedly. “I’m not about to break.”

“No,” He agreed, and he forced himself to smile weakly at her. “I know. You’re the strongest person I’ve met, you know, even if you don’t see it… I can’t help but worry though-”

“Worrying means you suffer twice,” Tina quipped before squeezing his hand and becoming serious once more. “Newt…while I’m gone, the kids are going to need you to be here for them; they’re going to catch on about the wars sooner rather than later, and they’ll need you to help them. And…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “If something happens to me, then I need you to protect them.”

Newt couldn’t help but stare at her, wide-eyed by this sentiment. “Tina, don’t talk like that…”

“It’s true,” She countered. “There’s a chance it will, Newt, and we need to talk about it just in case it does. What I’m asking is that if something does happen to me and I don’t come home…promise me that you’ll take care of the children.”

His heart ached at the thought, at the very possibility that she would not return home – that she would be lost while fighting, never to return to the children, never to return to him. “Tina…”

“Promise me, Newt,” Tina repeated, voice harsh but also close to breaking – it was clear that she was only barely holding herself together.

“Of course,” He agreed, though it sounded hollow to his own ears. “I promise.”

She exhaled and closed her eyes, leaning in to lay her head on his shoulder; her hand was still holding onto his, and it was obvious that neither of them particularly wanted to let go. “Thank you,” He heard her whisper, clearly relieved.

The children continued to play in the distance with loud giggles as they ran about; for now they were blissfully unaware of what was to come, and that was how it should have been.

The night before Tina was due to leave was a rather miserable and unhappy one in the Scamander household; all of the children refused to sleep, and both Linnet and Leo especially shed more than a few tears at the prospect of waking up to find their mother gone.

“I d-d-don’t want you to go, Mummy!” Linnet sobbed, clinging to her mother’s arm desperately. “Please don’t g-go!”

Leo, meanwhile, had started to pull at Tina’s trousers as he wailed. “D-Don’t want M-Mummy to g-go!”

“I’ll be back soon,” Tina attempted to soothe them, managing to extract her arm from her daughter’s grip. “I promise, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Phoenix s-said…” Linnet sniffled and gave a small hiccup. “He said people d-die in war!”

Leo’s bottom lip wobbled again. “No! No, Mummy, no!”

“It’s going to be fine,” Tina assured them hurriedly, and she knelt before them so that she could look them in the eye. “I’m not going until tomorrow morning – I’ll still be here when you go to sleep – and I promise that I’ll come in and say goodbye to you in the morning.”

“A-And…” Her daughter rubbed at her eyes with her pyjama sleeve. “You’ll write to us, Mummy?”

She nodded and forced herself to smile. “Of course, I will.”

“Every day?”

“Well…not every day,” Tina mused, tucking some hair behind Linnet’s ear affectionately. “But I promise I’ll write as often as I can.”

Leo threw his arms around her and buried his face into the crook of her neck. “Gonna miss you, Mummy.”

“I know you will,” She admitted, and her smile faded away as she wrapped an arm around each of them. “I’ll miss you all too.”

She made sure that Linnet and Leo were both settled into their beds, pressing kisses to their foreheads and tucking them underneath their duvets, before deciding to attempt to speak to Phoenix; the oldest child had vanished after dinner, remaining remarkably silent, and she knew that it would be best to have a talk with him. She took a moment to listen as she stood on the landing, and then made her way to Phoenix’s room down the hall; she could hear voices inside, and she had a strong feeling that Newt was in there with him.

True to her suspicions, her husband was sat on the bed with their eldest son and looking somewhat at a loss; both of them looked up at her as she entered the room, and it alarmed her just a bit to see that Phoenix’s eyes were rimmed red.

“I think perhaps you two should have a chat,” Newt decided suddenly, standing up from the bed. “I’m going to settle everyone in the case for the night.”

“Alright,” Phoenix mumbled, looking down at his bed sheets miserably.

The door shut behind the Magizoologist as he left, and Tina found herself staring at her son as she wondered over what to say – over what she could say. “Phoenix…”

“I don’t want you to fight,” He choked out suddenly, and his eyes were filling with tears. “I know that’s stupid and I’m…I’m being a baby, but I don’t want you to go to war.”

“It’s not stupid,” Tina murmured, sitting down next to him and shaking her head. “Being honest, I don’t really want to go either.”

“Then why are you going?” Phoenix retorted, furiously scrubbing at his face to get rid of the tears. “Just tell the Ministry you don’t want to go!”

She started to gnaw on her lip, heart sinking down into the bottom pit of her stomach. “It’s not as simple as that, Phoenix, it’s… I���m going because I know it’s hopefully going to protect you: your father and I don’t want you – any of you – growing up in a world where it’s not safe. Do you understand?”

He sniffled. “Yeah, I do. It’s just…” His face crumpled suddenly, tears streaming down his cheeks without warning. “I’m scared.”

Her eldest son had never been one for crying: even as a baby, he had usually slept through the night and not woken his parents. His sister and brother were more open to expressing their emotions like this, but Phoenix didn’t – perhaps because he knew, as the oldest, it was his responsibility to look after his younger siblings and set an example. To see him in this way – so upset and clearly distraught – was more than enough to prompt Tina to move closer and wrap her arms around him.

“Oh, Phoenix… I know,” She murmured to him; he put up no fights, instead leaning readily into her embrace. “I’m scared too.”

“But you’re an Auror,” He stated miserably. “Aurors don’t get scared… Do they?”

“Of course they do,” Tina answered, smoothing down the dark hair on his forehead and trying to remember not to lose her composure in front of him – it wouldn’t help matters at all. “Aurors get more scared than you know…and I’m scared right now.”

There was a lot she was terrified of: she knew that she would see horrific things while on active duty, that she would most likely see her comrades and friends die in front of her. She was frightened of Grindelwald – everyone was, there was no denying it – and of what a Muggle-madman was doing to millions of people across Europe, people like her and the children who were Jewish or otherwise ‘undesirable’; there was the fear of dying, of being killed in combat if she took one wrong step, and the fear of being captured and tortured by Grindelwald’s followers.

Most of all, though, she was scared that she would never see her husband and their children again – and, really, nothing terrified her more than that thought.

She had saved her tears for the bathroom, allowing herself to take a moment to cry in the privacy of the hot water. It would probably be the last shower she took for a while, come to think of it, and she should have been attempting to enjoy it for as long as she was able – but she couldn’t help it because it was all too much.

Fighting was the right thing to do, Tina reminded herself, for it would help to save so many innocent lives and contribute to putting an end to this war – but that didn’t mean she was happy to leave the children or Newt, by any means. She loved her family with all her heart, of course, and she didn’t want to leave them – but the longer this war wore on, the more danger they would all be in. The children deserved better than to grow up in a world governed by hatred and violence, and she was willing to fight to make sure that such a thing never happened.

It didn’t ease the pain at all, though: there was no telling how long she would be gone – or, even, if she would return.

By the time she had gathered her thoughts, the water had started to run cold; she turned it off before stepping out and wrapping a towel around herself. As she dressed, she tried not to think about how distressed the children had looked that evening at the prospect of never seeing her again, and she tried to rid it from her mind – thinking that way would not help at all.

It's going to be fine, Tina forced herself to think as she eyed herself in the mirror over the sink, and she splashed some cold water on her face to hide the fact that she had been crying just moments before. Of course I’ll see them again – I’m not about to go down easy, for one.

No, she decided, because she would fight – not only for what was right but also because she wanted to come home and see her family again. She would come home for the children, she’d come home for Newt, and she’d make sure of it.

Her husband was still awake when she entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her, clearly waiting for her to join him. She slipped underneath the covers wordlessly before wrapping herself around him in the dark; almost immediately he did the same, his arms strong and firm as they pulled her towards him.

“Do you remember the day that we first met?” Newt asked quietly, almost to himself as he held her. “It was outside of a bank; that Second Salem woman was preaching on the steps, and I bumped straight into you…you were eating a hot-dog, and you looked rather annoyed with me.” A brief ghost of a smile flitted across his face, only present a mere second before fading again. “The Niffler got loose and I chased after him: he caused more than enough trouble, of course, and you arrested me.”

“Well,” Tina said, the corners of her mouth twitching. “You did break the law.”

He gave a small, hollow chuckle at this. “Yes, I did. Things escalated rather quickly, didn’t they? One minute you were pushing me against a wall, and then the next we were trying to find several of my creatures…”

“And then you were leaving,” She murmured, resting her head on his shoulder and laying a hand over his chest.

“Yes, but I came back,” He reminded her softly. “I promised I would come back and I did…I even brought you my book, just like you asked.”

Tina smiled fondly, though there was obvious pain behind it. “Yeah, you did.”

Newt paused, clearly thinking and reminiscing to himself before speaking again. “I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you again, Tina; I saw you waiting on the docks for me and…and I know this sounds rather silly, but I thought that you looked so beautiful, more so than I remembered – I wanted nothing more than to just kiss you. It would have been highly improper, of course, and I wasn’t sure if you would feel the same way…you could have had your pick of any man, really.”

“I can assure you I couldn’t have,” She told him sincerely. “To be honest, you were the first one who showed any interest in me and not Queenie… And I wouldn’t have wanted ‘any’ man – it’s only ever been you.” When he didn’t reply to this, she continued firmly. “I love you because you’re you, Newt, and I mean that.”

He was silent for a moment, digesting her words carefully and dwelling on them. “On our wedding night, I…I felt like the luckiest man alive to be with you, to be married to you. I know that you felt rather self-conscious that night, but to me you were – are – perfect; a part of me felt that I didn’t deserve you, really, that you could do so much better but…but I will forever be glad that you chose me.”

Tina had to swallow the lump in her throat at his words, forcing herself not to cry in front of him – she had to remain strong, she reminded herself, and crying would not help matters at all. “Newt…”

“That first time we made love,” He continued, lost in another memory of a much simpler time. “I wanted to make sure you knew how much I love you: I wanted to cherish you, not just for that night but for all of our nights together. I know that it sounds terribly trite, but it’s the truth…you’ve always been the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world to me, and that won’t ever change.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes; his hold on her tightened ever so slightly, bringing her closer to him. “You’re everything to me, Tina, quite literally: you’re my wife, the one person who I’m content to spend the rest of my life with…and you’ve given me children too. Three absolutely wonderful children who mean the world to me, just as much as you do. For that I’m so thankful.”

She had grown quiet and still beside him, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the hand she had pressed against his chest. “You’re everything to me too,” He heard her murmur. “You’re the first thing I see when I wake up every morning – you’re the only person I’d want to wake up beside every morning…it’s going to be hard, not to wake up like that anymore.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued on, voice trembling slightly. “I’m going to miss waking up next to you…I’m going to miss this, curling up at night together, miss how warm and safe you make me feel. I’ll miss being down in the case, being with our creatures and watching you look after them…and the children.” Her voice nearly broke at this. “I’m going to miss them so much it hurts, Newt…but I know that you’ll look after them while I’m gone. I know that if anything happens to me then they’ll have you, and…and that makes it somewhat easier.”

For a moment neither of them said anything else, merely cuddled together underneath the covers – and then Tina felt her husband’s body shaking against her own, heard him sniff. Before she knew it, he was crying beside her, unable to restrain it any longer; alarmed, she sat up slightly and took his face into her hands. “Newt…”

“I’m so sorry,” He choked out, and for a second she thought that he might try to pull away – but then he was pressing closely into her, holding her tightly as if she might disappear before his eyes. “I’ve been trying to remain strong for you, Tina, I have…but I don’t think I can anymore.”

“It’s okay,” She soothed weakly, though the lump in her throat had returned. “You don’t need to pretend around me – I’m here.”

His breath hitched. “I know. It’s just that I’m…I’m terrified, Tina; even though I’ve tried to tell myself that you’ll come home, I can’t help but think about what will happen if you don’t. I know that there’s no use in thinking like that at all, it won’t change anything, but I can’t help it – it’s constantly on my mind. I...I’m so scared that you won’t go back to us, that our children won’t have their mother; I can’t imagine doing it without you, Tina, I can’t…a-and I can’t imagine myself growing old without you either. Whenever I’ve imagined myself growing old, it’s always been with you and only you.”

“Oh, Newt…” Without warning, Tina could feel her own tears slowly start to fall too. “I know; I worry about that too, every day… I worry that I won’t get to see them go to school,” She admitted. “That I won’t…won’t see them grow up. I keep thinking about it, Newt: what if they have to grow up without a mother – without me? I know that you’re more than capable of raising our children – more so than I am sometimes – but I want to be here…I want to see them grow up.”

The thought of their children – three bright, beautiful children who she had helped bring into this world and raise – being without her made something in her chest twist painfully. If she were to be killed in action, then there was no doubt that they would be devastated and heartbroken – she was their mother, after all, and they needed her just as much as they needed Newt.

With this painfully present on her mind, she found herself burying her face into her husband’s side and allowing herself to cry; Newt’s shoulders shook under her arms as he failed to contain his sobs, hands reaching out for her. They sat together in the darkness, holding each other tightly – the last night that they would for an undermined length of time, and quite possibly the last time they might ever be able to.

For a few minutes, they merely wept together in the dark, the weight of what had been both spoken and unspoken hanging around them. The knowledge of their separation coupled with their shared fears seemed to unite them in this moment, for what would perhaps be their last moment, and neither of them wanted to let go – for letting go would mean moving on to uncertainty, to a future that neither of them could be sure of.

It was Tina who composed herself first, drying her eyes on her pyjama sleeve but not letting go of her husband even so; she could feel that Newt was no longer crying against her, though his quiet sniffles seemed to echo in the room. The very idea of leaving him – especially after so long spent together in every way it were possible to be together – seemed wrong and unthinkable to her. Of course, the idea of sitting by and not doing anything during the war whilst so many innocent lives were lost was also unthinkable – she had to do the right thing, even if it meant leaving her family.

“I have to do this,” She found herself murmuring, half to herself as she reached for his hand. “I have to.”

He inhaled deeply, allowing her fingers to thread with his own. “I know you do. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She could feel his warm breath ghosting her face as he shifted, leaning his head inwards so that their foreheads were touching. “I just…I love you. I love you so much…”

“I love you too,” Tina sighed, closing her eyes; his body was so solid and alive next to her, a familiar comfort that she would have to leave behind, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to feel it for as long as she was able. “Newt… Will you make love to me? Please.”

Beside her, Newt’s breath hitched and his hand tightened around her own. “Oh… Yes,” He agreed quietly. “Of course.”

Her free hand slowly reached to cup his face as she opened her eyes, looking at him tearfully in the dark; her thumb gently brushed against his lower lip, and it was obvious that she was steeling herself, forcing herself to remain strong. After a brief few seconds wherein they merely held each other’s gazes, Tina leaned in and tenderly pressed her lips to Newt’s. Beside her, his body seemed to relax a tad and she felt his mouth tenderly reciprocating; she could taste the salt from his tears on his lips, could feel his misery as though it were her own, and she wanted to forget – they both wanted to forget.

Their love-making was gentle and slow that night, neither of them in a rush of any kind – neither of them wanted it to end, for the end of it meant the beginning of an uncertain future. Newt was sure to press soft kisses to her body tenderly, taking his time to worship every scar and every blemish on her skin – everything that made her his Tina; there were many things he couldn’t bring himself to say, for saying them made the entire situation far too real. He was certain that there were things she was thinking but refraining from saying for the same reasons, and he didn’t push her to tell him – actions spoke louder than words really.

They finished together, in each other’s arms, and for a few minutes neither of them could bring themselves to move – separating would mean getting ready to sleep, and waking up would mean her leaving shortly after. Tina could feel his tears against her shoulder again, unable to hold them in, and she merely held him closer to herself – as though holding on would help.

When they finally separated, redressing in their bedclothes and settling underneath the sheets for what could very well be the last time, she pressed herself against his side and reached to take his hand in hers. Newt’s hand squeezed around her own, and he had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I’ll come back,” He heard her promise quietly, voice wavering only slightly. “I’ll come back to you, and to our children.”

There was no certainty behind this, but he knew what she meant – that she would try, that she would fight her hardest to return to them – and that was enough. His voice was hoarse as he responded. “I know you will. Don’t forget, Tina, please.”

“I won’t.”

They fell asleep slowly, pressed together and whispering reaffirmations of love as the uncertainty of what was to come loomed in the dark silence of the room ominously.

I was originally going to write full-blown smut for this chapter, but I’ve been super busy lately so I decided to leave it implied for this fic – I will write up a smutty-outtake story for anyone who wants it, of course!

The children will definitely be more prominent and focused on in the next chapter, not to worry!

There’s a second part, so hopefully I can get that done soon – comments and reviews feed my muse, just so you know :D

[renae-writes]

Time Travel (Part 4)

Summary: Y/N is stuck in 1801 and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to be going anywhere soon.

Pairing: Philip x reader (finally)

Warnings: language, unedited, especially shitty writing (like worse than usual), making your parents sound like horrible people

Word Count: 1,677 words

A/N: I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO BAD BUT I HAD NO OTHER IDEAS like I stared at a blank document for so long I think I went crazy. I hate this chapter, but I had to write it, so... Also, should I include smut at all in this series? I’ve never written it before so it might be shit, I don’t know.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Philip led you to the dining room, where a large table was set up with ten place settings, gold-rimmed china shining in the candlelight of the chandelier above. At the head of the table sat none other than Alexander Hamilton, his dark hair slicked back and his hands covered in ink stains. His nails were short, most likely chewed down to the stub, but somehow ink still ended up underneath of them. His tired brown eyes looked you up and down before he stood from his chair. He made his way over to you.

“[Y/N], this is my father, Alexander,” Philip introduced you. Alexander offered you his hand.

“Miss [Y/L/N], I’m pleased to meet you.” He firmly shook your hand when you placed it in his.

“Mister Hamilton, the pleasure is all mine.” You were honestly trying not to faint.

“And this is my wife, Eliza,” Alexander introduced you to a woman with dark hair and a gentle smile. You offered her your hand, but she ignored it, pulling you into a hug instead. One thing was for certain, Eliza Hamilton gave the best mom hugs. When she released you, she kept one of your hands in her pale ones, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Darling, I heard from Philip that you ran away. Is that true?” she said quietly, so no one else would hear her.

“Yes,” you whispered and she squeezed your hand.

“Anything you need, just ask,” was all she said before she turned and sat down at her place at the table. You could only stand there, gaping. The Hamiltons’ kindness never seemed to end.

“Come on, you’ll be sitting next to me,” Philip said, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you toward the head of the table. He pulled out a chair for you next to Alexander, helping you push in your chair before taking his seat to your right.

The food was served and dinner went by without much excitement. At one point, little Eliza Hamilton, or Liz, as Philip called her, threw her plate at John, who was sitting across from her. For being two years old, she had quite an arm. William Hamilton was much more well behaved, the four-year-old boy sitting quietly, mostly pushing his food around his plate and looking like he would rather go and run around.

“So, [Y/N],” Alexander said once the plates had been cleared and the youngest of the children dismissed, “would you like to enlighten me as to your situation?” He sat back in his chair with his hands folded on his lap, dark eyes evaluating you. You shifted uncomfortably and looked down at your lap, your hands nervously gripping the fabric of your dress.

“Well, I don’t know where to start…” you breathed, trying to calm yourself. You didn’t want to have an anxiety attack at the dinner table. “My mother left when I was sixteen. See, she always wanted me to be exactly like her. She used to make me sit and learn to play the violin because that’s what she did. I was no good at it, and she’d still make me play. For hours, sometimes until my fingers bled.” You didn’t know why you were telling the truth, but you were. You couldn’t stop yourself. You could feel your hands start shaking under the table, but you tried to ignore it. “Whenever I was sad or afraid, she never comforted me. She’d only slap me and tell me to suck it up. The world was a terrible place, so I should get used to it.”

Eliza gasped from across the table, tears forming in her eyes and Alexander only nodded solemnly before encouraging you to continue. You felt the familiar burning sensation in your nose and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks. You gripped your hands together tightly, digging the nails of your right hand into your left palm in an attempt to stop yourself. Philip must have seen, because he reached over under the table and gripped your hand in his. You calmed down slightly, the weight of his hand anchoring you. You continued.

“My father wasn’t around for most of my life. He was too busy. He only came around after my mother left and I had no one else.” Then, you started slipping into lies. “He must have felt bad, because then he started teaching me things like reading and writing. I learned about math and politics. He treated me like he actually liked me. And for a while, I believed it. Then, he started making me do chores like scrubbing the floors and washing clothes. He owned slaves, and although I hated the thought of it, I was always kind to them. I didn’t really understand what was happening until one of them, Solomon, said to me, ‘don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s treating you like one of us. He’s making you into a slave.’

Then I started to refuse to do the chores he asked me to. At first, he would only send a slave in to take over for me, but after a while, he started to hit me. He called me things that I can’t repeat in front of you, and that’s when I decided I had to leave.” Philip squeezed your hand and you couldn’t help but feel like you’re the worst person in the world, accepting their kindness and hospitality and deceiving them in return. “I stole some of his clothes from the wash and hid them. I waited until he was asleep one night and climbed out my window. I tried to get Solomon and a couple other slaves to come with me, but they were too afraid. Solomon stayed back to cover for me, buy me some more time to get away. Knowing my father’s temper, I fear the worst for him.

I ran all the way from northern Virginia to Maryland, where I snuck onto a boat that was set to arrive in Massachusetts, but something went wrong and it stopped at New York harbor. I had to get off before anyone realized there was an extra passenger.”

“And you ended up breaking into our house?” Alexander asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“I wouldn’t call it breaking in, I’d call it more sneaking in. The door was unlocked.” The Federalist barked out a laugh, Philip joining him, and Eliza glared at the both of them.

Besides, you thought, it’s not like the place wasn’t protected, Philip held a gun to my head for fuck’s sake.

“[Y/N],” Eliza said her kind eyes meeting yours, “we would be honored if you would stay with us.”

You had been staying with the Hamiltons for two weeks and still you were no closer to getting back to your time. It wasn’t like there were any books written in the 1800s about time travel. Sighing, you propped your elbows on your dark oak desk and dropped your head in your hands. You gripped your hair, hoping that the pain you got from pulling it would bring you back into reality.

You had just woken up from a nightmare.

You couldn’t remember what it was about, but it terrified you so much that your heart was still racing half an hour after you woke up. Unshed tears were in your eyes and you knew you wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. Regardless, you stood from your desk and made your way back to your bed, pulling the thick woolen blanket back up around you. You closed your eyes and desperately wished to be able to go back to sleep.

An hour later and you were still awake. You were still scared for some reason, and your skin was crawling.

Two minutes later, you found yourself outside Philip’s door, shivering in your thin lilac nightdress. Before you can change your mind, you raise your hand and knock twice on the door. Not ten seconds later, the door opens to reveal a half asleep Philip, his dark curls falling everywhere and his toned chest visible through his thin white sleep shirt. At the sight of you standing there, clearly shaken up, Philip seems to wake up.

“[Y/N], are you alright?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

“Yeah,” you say nonchalantly, “I just had a bad dream and can’t seem to fall back asleep. Sorry for waking you up, I’ll just go back to-”

“No!” Philip interrupted you. “It’s fine. Come in,” he opened his door farther for you, leading you over and sitting you on his bed, where the spot he was sleeping was still warm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No. I can’t remember it, but I’m just a little shaken up.” Philip sat next to you.

“Do you want to sleep here with me tonight?”

You looked at him, the green of his eyes barely visible in the darkness. He was sitting a lot closer to you than he normally did and now your heart was racing for an entirely different reason.

“Isn’t that improper?”

“I really don’t care.”

And with that his lips were on yours, warm and soft and oh so perfect. Your hands flew to his neck while his cupped your face. You closed your eyes and all you could feel was Philip. His lips on yours, his distinct smell of books and ink flooding your senses, his soft skin underneath your hands. His slight stubble rubbed against your skin, but you found yourself loving it.

Philip then opened his mouth and licked your bottom lip before nipping at it. You sighed and opened your mouth, letting the kiss become more passionate. Your hands traveled up to tangle in Philip’s hair as he moved his hands, one on your neck making sure you weren’t going anywhere and the other pulling you closer to him.

“Wow,” was all you had to say once you pulled apart. Philip chuckled and you could feel the vibrations from his chest.

“Yeah. Wow.”

Tags: @pearltheartist @insane-hamilton-imagines @justfangirlingaround @letusunalivethem