#when they were introduced in the first few lines of the prologue

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, the Ladies say their farewells. But--

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,764. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 44: Not Over Yet

The Ladies rose before the sun.

Despite their late night, they were duty-bound to wake early. Lady Samient was to leave before dawn came. They all had to be there to see her off.

They gathered in the courtyard, the first rays of light creeping over the mountains. It would be that light which would guide her retinue—no more than a dozen troops, for small was discreet—to the Free Marches.

“Do you think Vichy will be glad to see me, looking like this?” Samient asked, of the Inquisition armour she wore—identical to that of the soldiers who lingered nearby.

“I think it shan’t matter what you wear,” said Trevelyan, “he will simply be happy to see you.”

“And at least you shall be matching,” Lady Erridge teased.

Samient laughed, the joke causing her to settle somewhat. “That is true.”

Trevelyan had never seen her Ladyship quite so nervous as this. It was a shame she would miss the reunion. She so wished to know what Samient was like in the presence of her lover. What a happy, silly mess she might be!

“Do not worry about your father,” the Baroness reassured her. “Lady Montilyet and I shall deal with all that. You focus upon the journey home.”

“Thank you,” said Samient.

She glanced back to the retinue, all in rows, receiving orders from their Captain. The time was nigh. Lady Samient brought her hair up, and tied it into a bun atop her head. Her ears entirely exposed, she ran a finger over the very tips—pointed and proud.

“Shame they’ll have to go straight back under a helm,” she muttered.

Trevelyan smiled. “Though not for much longer.”

“And never again after that.”

Her ritual of readiness must not have gone unnoticed, for her Dalish liaison—a young Elven man called Loranil—took the opportunity to run up, and report in:

“Your Ladyship, we’re ready to march.”

She thanked him, and away he went. Now was the time to follow. Reluctant, she took a step back.

“Well… I suppose I should make my way, then,” she mumbled. “I, um, well—”

“Oh, come here!” Lady Erridge cried, rushing forward. She threw her arms around Samient—soon followed by both Trevelyan and the Baroness. Tangled together, warmth shared. One last time.

“We love you, you know,” said Lady Erridge.

“I know,” Samient replied, sniffling back tears. “I love you too.”

“Have a safe journey,” Trevelyan wished her.

“And write as soon as you can,” the Baroness added. “Tell us everything of your Clan.”

Samient nodded. “I will. I will.”

Each woman held on tight, unflinching in her devotion. It was the sort of embrace that could anchor a ship in a storm. The sort of embrace that could melt the deepest winter. The sort of embrace that could outshine the very sun, and sear even a dragon’s tongue.

Yet, like all good things, it would have to come to an end. One last squeeze, and they parted. Taking a deep breath, Lady Samient took another step back.

“Farewell. All of you. And be happy. Please.”

Though holding tight onto one another, the Ladies began to wave. And they would not stop until Lady Samient was truly gone.

No, Giles. She wished to be remembered as Giles.

Giles found her place within the regiment. A few words were said between her and the soldiers, which seemed to make her smile. She placed her helm upon her head—at least it concealed the tears—and, with one final look back, marched out of Skyhold.

May Ghila’nain guide her home.

***

No sooner than the remaining Ladies had recovered from this, than it was Lady Erridge’s turn.

Her carriage had arrived. They all had gathered. Her things were packed. Orroat’s horse was hitched. It was time.

Naturally, Lady Erridge was inconsolable. Whimpering, tear-stained, and red, she threw herself into Orroat’s arms, and begged: “Can’t we stay just one week more?”

But Lady Orroat shook her head. “I would agree to your every request, my love, but I am afraid if I say yes, you shall never leave.” She tapped Erridge lovingly upon the nose. “And I do not know how the Bann will continue to survive without you. Your poor mother had to sew a dozen more handkerchiefs for him, last time I visited.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry”—Orroat dabbed her eyes, ineffective as it was—“we managed to see each other as children, so this will be done as well—and we’ll pass through here plenty, I imagine.” She turned to Trevelyan and Touledy. “You are always welcome in Coldon, of course.”

“I would be glad to visit,” said the Baroness.

“As would I,” Trevelyan agreed.

Lady Erridge whirled, and took hold of their hands. “Oh, please do! I do not wish this to be our last meeting!”

Trevelyan feigned shock. “Why, are we uninvited from your wedding!?”

“Oh, no, no! Of course you are invited. What a wonderful day that shall be. No—a week! It shall be an entire week of festivities! I promise you.” She looked to Orroat. “Don’t you think?”

“If you so wish, my love.”

“Thank you, my love.”

Their saccharine nature was the only thing, at that moment, keeping Trevelyan from crying. Although, she had to admit, a tear did well upon her eye.

“I’m afraid the carriage is ready, Tam,” said Orroat, solemnly. “We’ll need to clear the mountain range before sundown, so we’ll have to be gone soon.”

“Oh, dear!” cried Erridge.

She looked to the Ladies, frozen in place. Hesitation held her back, the knowledge that the next moments with them would be her last—at least for now.

Yet those moments were not to be squandered. Lady Erridge surged forward, swaddling both Trevelyan and Touledy within her embrace. The loveliest, warmest, kindest hug yet.

Trevelyan savoured the feeling.

“You know,” murmured Erridge, “were it not for you, I would have never known myself in love with dear Hul. It was only in befriending you that I realised my feelings for her were different.” She snuggled in closer. “Though just as precious.”

“We love you,” whispered Trevelyan.

“We do,” agreed Touledy.

“I love you both,” said Erridge.

It was this sentiment that seemed to provide her the strength to step away, for nothing could be so enduring. But even as her fingers slipped from Trevelyan’s arm, she whispered to her:

“I’ll miss you terribly, Wicky.”

Trevelyan smiled. “And I you.”

But missing her would have to do—the carriage was loaded, the drivers seated. Lady Orroat opened the door.

“Are you ready, my love?”

“I think so,” Erridge replied.

She offered her hand. Lady Orroat took it, and kissed it, and guided Lady Erridge into the carriage—but did not follow. Not yet. Instead, she looked to the Ladies.

“Thank you for caring for my dear Tam so well,” she told them. “I cannot express how much it means, to know she is loved. I hope to make her even half as happy as you have.”

Trevelyan nodded. “Good. For if you break her heart, we shall kill you.”

“Painfully,” the Baroness added.

Lady Orroat smiled. “I would expect no more and deserve no less.”

She clambered into the carriage, setting beside her dear Lady. Trevelyan watched, quite satisfied that their message had been heard, and that Lady Erridge was in good hands.

And those good hands kept her stable, as Erridge fumbled over Orroat’s lap, to poke her head out of the window.

“Farewell!” she called. “We shall meet again! I love you!”

The signal was given, the reins taken up. The carriage began to trundle away.

“We shall meet again!” repeated Erridge, as it slipped into the gatehouse. Her voice echoed off the stone. “Farewell!”

“Farewell!” the Ladies cried. “Safe journey! Farewell!”

And then it was off, the carriage rumbling over the old stone bridge. Trevelyan imagined that, within it, at that very moment, Lady Orroat had taken Lady Erridge’s hand, and held it tight. It was not so hard to believe.

Good. The sooner they were married, the sooner they would all see each other again.

For now, though, sadness remained a most stalwart companion.

Trevelyan pulled her napkin from a pocket—the poor little cloth only just having dried from its use earlier in the morning—and dabbed at her eyes. It was a wonder she had any tears left. The Baroness, similarly, dried her own. She looked to Lady Trevelyan, and, wordlessly, linked their arms together. Just two Ladies left.

“Come,” she said, “my carriage will not be ready for another hour. Let us pass the time. May I see your new quarters, before I go?”

A good distraction. Trevelyan nodded.

Together, they wandered, back towards the keep. Up, into the Great Hall. Calmer now, than yesterday. The normal sort of hubbub and ambience.

They turned not towards the rotunda door and its guest corridor above, but towards the door to Montilyet’s parlour. Tucked within, they knew well enough, was the little landing that preceded her lounge. And off this landing, were two sets of stairs.

They took the ascending route, to an entirely new corridor. Stretching out above the parlour, snaking into the Inquisitor’s tower, this corridor housed the rooms of some of the Inquisition’s innermost circle.

“I couldn’t quite believe it, when she told me where it was,” Trevelyan admitted.

“It is a privilege to be amongst them,” mused Touledy.

They turned into the tower, ascended a little way up… and soon enough, came across a door.

“This is it,” Trevelyan said, turning the key. “Though I warn you—it’s not mightily impressive.”

She opened up, and wandered in. The Baroness followed, and put on a good show of admiration—but Trevelyan knew it was merely politeness.

This room she’d been given was a touch smaller than that of her guest room. Understandable—guests were to be impressed with comfort; residents simply needed somewhere to sleep. The furnishings were more basic, too—but better than the ones she’d had in the Circle, by far.

The bed, though not four-poster, was of a sufficient size. “Though you’ll not test this one,” she teased the Baroness.

“I believe that is someone else’s duty.”

Trevelyan laughed. “And here is my desk!” she quickly continued, proudly showing the little bureau. “I’m truly glad to have this. I’ll be able to work here, should the Undercroft be too busy. Oh, and look!”

She pointed to the window just above it, that allowed the morning’s light into the room. The Baroness peered out, and gasped at what she saw.

“Oh! Are these not the same mountains we saw from your stargazing spot?”

Trevelyan nodded. “Yes! I can sit here, on a night, and look out—without having to get so cold!”

Touledy grinned. “But how then will you secretly rendezvous with the Commander, hm?”

“I believe you’ve already suggested a method!”

They laughed, and Touledy regarded the room once more. There was little else of note—a trunk and drawers, for storage, and a pair of chairs—but she nodded approvingly nevertheless.

“It may not be much, but I think it is lovely.”

Trevelyan smiled. “I know. So do I. And—”

There was a rapid knock at the door. Trevelyan perked. The Baroness’ carriage could not have been ready so soon? She rushed over, and opened up. A scout stood on the other side.

“Morning, your Ladyship. This just arrived for you—urgent.”

They handed over a small piece of vellum. She could tell by the writing it was a bird-message, transcribed.

“Thank you,” she said, letting them hurry on their way. She shut the door, and wandered back toward Touledy.

“Who is it from?” her Ladyship asked.

Trevelyan steeled herself. “I think I know.”

Though her soul screamed not to, her eyes began to scan the words:

Daughter,

If there is no engagment, there is no reason for you to stay. We shall be travelling to Val Royeaux. Meet us there, or we shall have you fetched.

Bann Trevelyan

Trevelyan’s lungs stopped. The paper fell from her hand, spinning to the ground. They couldn’t—she gasped—they couldn’t just come for her? They couldn’t take her away. No, no—

Touledy, leaning hard on her cane, managed to collect the message from the floor, and read it for herself. Her eyes widened.

“Stay calm, Lady Trevelyan. Everything will be all right.”

Trevelyan shook her head. “But they—but they… I didn’t think they would come get me! I thought they would just leave me be. Why won’t they leave me be?”

Shaking, she found the arm of a chair. The Baroness guided her into it.

“Shh, stay calm. It is all right. You are of the Inquisition now. You have protection. They cannot simply pluck you from Skyhold. We should tell Lady Montilyet of this. She still owes you a debt.”

The Baroness rose, and hurried to the door, sticking her head out. Grunting, she rushed back.

“The scout is gone,” she explained, “so I shall find Montilyet myself. You remain here. Stay calm, all right? Breathe. All right? Breathe.”

Trevelyan did as instructed, taking breaths in, and pushing them forcefully back out.

“Good,” cooed Touledy, stroking her arm, “very good. I will be a moment. Just a moment. We will have this sorted, I promise you.”

Trevelyan nodded. Seeing that permission, Touledy gathered herself, and left the room. Her cane tapped away with a heightened rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

But when it vanished, Trevelyan was left with only the sound of her own breathing. She clasped her hands together, till her knuckles turned white, and held them against her chest. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

A knock at the door. Touledy was faster than promised.

“Come in!” she cried.

“Arcanist?” came the reply.

Trevelyan turned. The Commander stood in her door. She lost her breath again.

“Are you all right?” he said, abandoning what he carried upon her dresser, and pulling a chair up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to say it without crying. “My parents…”

No use. She passed him the message, instead. He read it. His face fell. His head shook.

“No,” he breathed. “They cannot take you from Skyhold.”

“They’ll try.”

“Then what if…” He tried to catch her eye. “What if you told them we were engaged? Would that settle them?”

“No!” Trevelyan stood, tears falling anew. “I don’t want to do what they want! I want to do what I want! I wanted to be done with them! I just…” She bowed her head, and wept. “I wanted to be free.”

She felt her body buckle—but no sooner than it had, than it was held upright. The Commander enveloped her in his arms, held her tight against his chest. She clung to him in turn, buried her head within the fur of his mantle. It was all him, keeping her together.

“No one can take you from Skyhold without your consent,” he murmured. “I promised to you. You are safe within these walls. They could send an army. They will not take you from—here.”

Trevelyan nodded. Her breathing slowed. She believed him. She believed him.

Footsteps—hurried, heeled footsteps—neared.

“Lady Trevelyan!” came Montilyet’s voice, as she rounded into the room. “The Baroness has just told me! Are you well?”

Trevelyan shook her head. The Commander, slowly, gently released her into Lady Montilyet’s arms.

“It’s all right, Lady Trevelyan,” she told her. “I will go to Val Royeaux myself if I have to! You are an Arcanist of the Inquisition, and you belong here.”

Trevelyan sighed. “I want to stay.”

“I know. You will.”

Further footsteps. Trevelyan glanced toward the door, and saw the Baroness had arrived as well. But—the Commander was gone.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“He slipped away,” the Baroness revealed. She wandered over to the dresser, and admired the bouquet of flowers that had appeared upon it. “But it seems he left you a gift... I shall find someone who can fetch a vase of water.”

The Baroness withdrew. Lady Montilyet sat Trevelyan down, and brought the flowers to her. Trevelyan accepted the arrangement, gladly. Such a beautiful little bouquet. Poppies, and spinwort, crystal grace and daisies. Put together by one with no knowledge of flowers. Ever more beautiful for it.

“Trust me,” said Lady Montilyet, sitting beside her. “I can deal with the Bann and Lady Trevelyan. Easily.”

But Trevelyan shook her head. “No,” she said. “I want to deal with them. Myself.”

[perpetual-fandom-brainrot]

Temporary Relocation Prologue/Ch. 1

This fic is based on this drabble Basic premise: Reader got an experimental surgery and is being relocated to a military base with more specialized medical supplies to help recovery while on medical leave, and will temporarily help with missions to ensure success after.

It was some kind of new experimental technology. You were one of only a few hundred who had the privilege of getting the opportunity. When they'd called, you'd needed to request for the information to be mailed because there was so much of it. "Instinctual Prosthetics" was what they had decided to name the project. It was supposed to help military combatants, granting an animalistic advantage of some kind on the battlefield. They would synthesize physical attributes of the target animal, you couldn't wrap your head around how, and intertwine the prosthetics and artificial nerves with your body's existing nervous system. Most info beyond that was disclosed to you as "need-to-know," which told you literally nothing you felt you needed to know.

Nonetheless, you were too intrigued- and too attached to the payout you'd get for using yourself as an experiment vessel- to say no. That was how you ended up on a helicopter with a man who'd introduced himself to you as Captain John Price, with your newfound cat ears and tail still extremely sensitive to everything around them. Every time the aircraft jostled, you found yourself flinching, and every time the noise changed you wished you could press your ears to your head to make it stop. If only it wasn't too dangerous to take off those headphones, which had been specially made for you. You didn't even want to think about what the violent whirs of the overhead blades would sound like without the protection they gave.

"Touchdown in five," the pilot called back to the two of you. You barely registered it until you heard Captain Price giving a comment saying the pilot's communication went over. "This team won't be anything like what you're used to, soldier. Much more specialized, much better materials to handle your... unique recovery circumstances." The captain's explanation didn't do much to ease your nerves, but you found yourself nodding as though it did. As though it held any clues of what you'd see on Task Force 141's base. "The rest of the force should be meeting us when we land," he continued. "I expect you'll get acquainted with them over your time here." The words gained another absent nod from you. Until the heli touched down, you found your brain wandering to how this all happened in the first place.

"It's an experimental procedure," the woman over the phone explained. You could hear pages flipping in the background of her mic, "we're only offering it to a few hundred soldiers to see how it takes. There's a wide range of people who chose to go in already." Her explanation only served as further confusion.

"I... I still don't understand," you mumbled before taking a sip of your coffee, "why was I selected?" The line was tense with silence for what you wish was a small beat, before the woman sighed.

"I only know what I'm telling you, and I'm only allowed to tell you what I know." Her gentle tone was meant to be reassuring, but right then it was just pissing you off. You were going to potentially lose critical brain functions if this went wrong, and it was still on a need-to-know? Fucking government. "There is one upside, though," she spoke tentatively now, "since this is a voluntary experiment, they're offering you compensation."

"Compensation?" The word echoed off of your tongue almost as if it was alien. "I'm sorry, I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this."

"I have permission to make exactly one hard copy of this information and mail it to you. Would you like me to file the request for it?"

"Yes, please."

It hadn't felt like too long since that phone call. It probably hadn't been, if you were willing to compare hours to seconds. It had only been a few weeks since you were wheeled out of the surgery room, informed of the expected enhancements with your balance and hearing, and then immediately told about the orders for your relocation. You'd be temporarily occupying the base of a specialized and extremely classified task force, one you were sure your own generals themselves had never heard of. A few weeks since that tail was surgically implanted at the back of your spine and connected to your main nerve pathways, a few weeks since the nurses and doctors taking care of you started looking at you funny when you covered your ears from things they couldn't hear.

The harsh jostle of the helicopter landing, and the ensuing pins and needles from your still sore tail, broke you out of your trance. You took a deep breath as you stood up and removed the headphones, flinching at the more detailed sounds you knew no one else could hear, and looked up to see Captain Price awaiting your company to exit the aircraft.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

Not at all, you think, but give a verbal, "affirmative, Captain." Price doesn't walk off of the helicopter until he sees you next to him, where a small group of men wait, presumably for the two of you, in a semicircle. "So... this is the team?" You ask quietly, awkwardly, before they've noticed you. Price chuckles to himself before calling out to the group.

"Soldiers," his voice carries over the now fading whirs of the helicopter, "meet our new temporary recruit. After the medical recovery period ends, you'll all be working together out on the field. I expect you all to make good use of the remaining leave time." Nobody had to ask to know what Price meant. You'd all be stopping bullets and bombs for each other soon enough, probably too soon. He wanted a team that knew how to work together.

"What's with the cat ears?" A rough British accent calls. Your eyes flick to the source, a tall and muscular man wearing a skull mask. Your peripherals catch everyone else's eyes immediately flying to the top of your head while you make brief eye contact with the man. Your breath catches in your throat when you open your mouth to respond.

"This is the experimental procedure you were briefed about," Price stated. "I expect you all to treat this like any other new recruit. If I hear of any issues, you will be dealing with Shepherd." A collective groan came from the group as Price walked towards a gathering of buildings. Who?

"Aye Ghost, don't want them to make you a kitty cat, eh? Ya might end up too cute to fight that way," another man, a Scotsman with striking blue eyes and a mohawk, commented.

"A word, sergeant MacTavish," the Brit barked before walking into a nearby building. The Scot followed him without asking questions. You just watched the two in a daze, not sure what to make of the scene.

"What was that?" The question came from your mouth carefully.

"Don't mind them," another man, the only one left now, spoke up. He had umber skin that looked smooth, not as big of a build as the Brit but you had no doubt just as strong. "The sergeant's probably getting his fair share for talking to the lieutenant like that." As he talked, you noted he's probably better for agility. He took a step towards you and held out his hand, "I'm Kyle Garrick, Gaz on the field."

"Y/n L/n," you took a step to close the gap and firmly shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Gaz! Who are the other two? The sergeant and you said the lieutenant?"

Gaz laughed a little, the smile staying as he spoke, "the angry one in the mask, the lieutenant, is Ghost, and the Scot you saw messing with him is my fellow sergeant. His name's Soap. Those two are always at each other's throats. Bet you'll get used to it as you stay here," he took a step back after letting go of your hand. Gaz was still smiling, "and I'm assuming you know Price. There's others, but they're out on assignments if they're not stuck in the medical quarters recovering."

"Well, in that case, mind showing me the medical quarters? I'm due for an initial check-up after my briefing on the team. Pretty sure you just gave that to me."

Gaz turned and waved you on from behind, "follow me!" He called. You jogged to catch up, looking around and taking every detail in while gazing at the structures around you. Brief explanations of barracks, small hangars, different quarters and offices, the main canteen building as you passed it, everything you needed to know about getting around the base and what you need. Eventually, a building just as plain as the rest of them save for a red cross came into view. The medical quarters, you regarded it with internal relief. Your ears and spine were starting to ache again.

You even forgot to thank Gaz as you hurried in, leaving him to laugh to himself. You were definitely something. The base- the force- was going to enjoy having you.

Read the next chapter here

[prettywon]

. * 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ HEARTBEAT

#00 - PROLOGUE

PAIRING: nonidol!highschool!au, player!Jungwon x gn!reader

IN WHICH ✦ Jungwon was never exactly known for being loyal, but the halls of Decelis are full of whispers as Jungwon walks hand in hand with Yuna, his girlfriend of 4 months. It seems like Jungwon has finally settled down, and he almost likes the attention, but he thinks he likes you more. Too bad you refuse to look in his direction until he sincerely apologizes to every one of his exes, which is no easy feat.

WC: 0.9k

WARNINGS: Jungwon is an asshole, swearing, not proof read

WHEN jungwon walks into the classroom, he doesn't know what love feels like. Yeah it's supposed to be great and your heart beats fast but he gets the same feeling when he runs too much — what's the hype? Love was a fickle thing to him, he got to be all nice and sweet with someone for a few weeks and then it was over. He didn't understand the heartbreak that came with it. Wasn't that all just overdramatized in shows for bigger shock value anyways? He can't remember the amount of significant others he's left crying, then again they were never that significant to him in the first place.

It's all for the sake of filling the spot in his life called "love." It always has been and always will be. Sometimes he likes dragging on the relationship for a few weeks longer than usual — long enough for people to start thinking he's changed. For his partner to start thinking he's changed. Just to watch him rip it apart like he's done every other time. To watch his former lover destroy all the gifts he made for them with his tender "love and care."

His heart beats without remorse while his line of ex lovers get theirs broken.

So Jungwon sits at his desk with his hands in his pockets, ready to scope out the next person to play romance with. He was still in a relationship, technically, but that never stopped him. Although, the relationship was already nearing 4 months. He couldn't believe the drones of people congratulating him for “settling down.” Hell, she even wanted to introduce him to her parents. Honestly, the whole thing was embarrassing in his eyes.

The crowd has always been easy to read. People are never very indirect with their dirty looks. He finds the ones in the hallways that oh-so obviously fantasize about "changing him" and he wraps them up in his arms laced with sweet, intoxicating poison.

Too easy, really.

Jungwon had heard the rain start to drizzle and checked the windows out of curiosity. Instead, he was met with you. This situation happens all the time, he sends a wink their way and the "pursuit" begins. But Jungwon can't bring himself to do so, not wanting to miss an opportunity to engrave every feature your face holds in his mind.

And although Jungwon didn't realize it at the time, he was suddenly on the other side of his one-sided relationships. He was the one that felt his world slow, he was the one that had the ever-so-subtle blush on his face. He didn't even realize you had broken eye contact as he noticed your fractic actions first – trying to cover up the fact that you had been staring at the number one heartbreaker, scolding yourself for doing so.

For the first time since he started toying with love, Jungwon was confused about what to do. It's strange, usually Jungwon would be DM-ing some random girl by now. However his phone remained stationary as he helplessly denied any feelings for you, and before he knew it class was starting.

The bell rang, signifying the start of lunch, and Jungwon was already halfway down the halls. The occurrence from this morning definitely set him off, but it didn't matter. Now, he was going to enter what he called “The Final Phase.” He was going to end his 4 month relationship, and he was going to do it in the slowest way imaginable. He started it almost like it was second nature, ignoring his girlfriend as she waved to him in the hallway.

Alas, all thoughts occupying Jungwons mind left as he bumped into someone. Before he could react, he saw you in the foreground of his peripheral vision. His heart's melody sped up again, he wanted to know your voice, your laugh, your favorite ice cream, everything. And if Jungwon was one thing besides a total heartbreaker, it would be determined.

“Uh Jungwon, no hello? No invite to eat lunch together?” Heeseung asked as Jungwon snapped out of his trance. “Oh, sorry?” The younger boy said, confused at Heeseung’s antics.

It didn't take long to figure out what Jungwon was planning, at least for Heeseung. The older boy looked at Jungwons (soon to be ex) girlfriend walking down the hallway, a face of confusion and hurt plastered on it. He then looked to where Jungwon was previously staring at, seeing you at your locker. He turned to face Jungwon, his face easily readable.

What the fuck.

Heeseung grabbed Jungwon’s arm and practically dragged him to the cafeteria, which was quite the sight for everyone else passing by to see. Once they finally reached their lunch table, Heeseungs grip on Jungwon’s wrist loosened.

“Seriously, what the hell do you think you're doing?” He hissed through gritted teeth, sitting across from Jungwon.

Jungwon wondered the same. Why did he care more about you? What was different about you? Maybe he was evolving, or whatever they called it.

The boy raised an eyebrow, staring at Jungwon with frightening intensity. “Hello?” Heeseung questioned, eating a fry with questionable texture, “Why were you staring at YN? And don't pull any of your usual bullshit.”

“I won't!” Jungwon brushed his hair back, “Have I ever broken our deal? You don't nag me about fucking around with girls and I don't go for your friends, it's simple.” Jungwon would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit annoyed. All he did was stare, what was the deal?

“Are you sure?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, turning Jungwons attention away from you in the background. “I'm serious Jungwon, don't fuck with anyone I'm close to. I see you pulling anything like that again and all bets are off." Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh as he leaned back into his chair. “I don't like Y/N in the first place, I need to find a new bitch and it's not them.” Jungwon insisted, ignoring the red hues in his face.

Heeseung stayed silent. “Whatever."

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[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Spins Around, Around, Around

Prologue =-= Next

Author's note: Alpharius in Husbandry

Warnings: Let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: He muses on the state of things.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Alpharius is in his guise as 'Zariel' the Ultramarine Apothecary. In order to have that guise he has to be a trained Apothecary. Ultramarines could be pedantic, rules-lawyer, Codex-thumping shit heads who could count the smallest of grains into the trillions of they were in a mood to be that excruciatingly exacting if they chose to. And he's seen them do something similar, which could be terribly interesting, until it got very, very boring.

He'd heard about the Primaris Marines, an interesting concept, and he wonders what had pushed the Imperium to design a newer version of the Astartes program that such a thing was needed. Likely nothing good if they needed faster, stronger, supposedly smarter, harder version of the Space Marine.

He's tried to meet the few that are on base, but they seemed like a terribly skittish bunch, and there were only a few of them, merely a handful in this part of Ancient Terra's hemisphere. So new and rare a model of Marine. There was a great fuss when one of the other Primaris came in with the winged blessing of the Ninth Primarch, one that is so rarely granted to a Blood Angel, or one of the successor chapters.

Or so he's learned from his brothers that were in other locations to learn of such things from their stubbornly closed mouthed cousins. The… fervor of some of the Blood Angels to wanting to meet young Jophiel… raised flags to 'Zariel' and some of the brothers that were imbedded with the Blood Angels and their Successor Chapters.

So they did their best to ensure that a meeting, planned or 'planned' wouldn't take place, as best they can with the contrary shits that are their cousins at times. Besides, the youngster preferred not to meet any First Born Blood Angels especially.

Which spoke of a… Concern, also what he's managed to gather, and this has him shaking his head, how foolish and shorted sighted their brothers in the future could be with the Primaris Marines and how they handled and reacted to them was dangerously dumb.

But- there were… opportunities to be had, contacts to make, and plans to coil and loop and pull them deeper into things if they played their cards right. He just doesn't know what he did to make the Primaris so skittish when he hasn't been able to properly introduce himself to them as 'Zariel the Apothecary'.

Which, he was supposed to have the Black Templar Apothecary Scout on the same rotation as him and do some mentoring of the lad, but he'd chosen to work with Hura of all Chaos Apothecary Space Marines over him. Which almost felt insulting, Hura could be… indulgent at times, and is well known for being patient, and slowly lures in his prey with the slow, persistent hunt of one who knows that he will get what he wants in the end, no matter how long he has to wait.

It's impressive, even if its annoying to deal with and makes it so that the Chaos Marine Apothecary accidentally side steps the less subtle ploys and plays of the Alpha Legion. But the Alpha legion are always very fluid and flexible, willing to change and alter their plans accordingly.

They just need to recalculate and got at it a different way, with an different method. No one escapes the Hydra. No one avoids their notice or gaze, it is the Hydra who monitor things and ensures that certain… Issues aren't noticed by the Public at large, be it Astartes, Custodes, and Human, especially the base line humans of Ancient Terra.

They have spies everywhere, including in those ridiculous 'Human First' cults, and all other cults that have popped up with the advent of the Marines landing here, as well as the cults that were here before they'd shown up. There is a wealth of information that they have gathered and continue to gather.

Black Templars- the fools that they are, and how they try to break the bonds, unless it is… Intense, and even those it depends on the individual and what they become and who they are that is some of the deciding factors on if Death is preferrable to being near a human. Honestly, Sons of Dorn could be so dramatic at times, despite how Stoic and Calm they pretend to be.

Melodramatic sword swinging Zealots the lot of them. Ugh. It gives him a headache just thinking about dealing with their Feral Warbands or 'crusades' as they prefer. The jokes on them, they will not be called a Crusade, because they are feral, spiteful gremlins that have the utter audacity to be Unpredictable, in ways that the Alpha legion almost can't handle.

It is Almost, because the Alpha legion are the best Legion, at what they do and how the can manipulate those around them. Further weaving the webs of lies and manipulating the hatreds and the ways other perceive things so that the webs are suited and perfectly fit for their schemes.

By understanding all that they could, was the Alpha Legion able to stay ahead of everyone else and not be caught off guard, or at least not as badly as the other legions could be. Monitoring Custodes was both more and less difficult. They are Damned Big, Shiny and Gold, people notice when they are nearby, they break whatever Warp-veil there is far quicker, more often, and easily than even the most chaos-twisted of the Marines.

Which is… interesting and something that they monitor. Infrequently, because they really don't want to garner the notice of the Custodes that are on Terra, as few as there are because of how much more brutal and lethal they tend to be… especially if their during and post Heresy. High Handed fuckers think that they are so much better than everyone else. And… well, no one smart would argue against that, even if the truth is more complicated than it first appears in the beginning.

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 01

Not a hoax, not a dream, not an imaginary story, and it's not an April Fool's prank! The Neon Genesis Evangelion liveblog begins here!

Man, it feels surreal to actually be doing this. This is one of those bucket-list anime series that I thought I should watch just to understand all the pop culture references. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure was one, Revolutionary Girl Utena was another, but those were a lot easier to track down. Hell, RGU was free on YouTube when I watched it. But Eva was a little tougher to get ahold of. There weren't a lot home video releases, and streaming services weren't carrying it. I think that's changed in the last few years, but I'd heard the Netflix version had some changes to the subtitles, and besides, I was busy with other things.

So a few years back I just said "fuck it" and paid too much money for the old ADV DVDs. I think it's out on Blu-Ray now, but I can't take screenshots from Blu-Rays so this is the play. But that's all prologue. We're finally here, and I'm finally watching this thing, so it's time to see what this thing's all about.

Ah, so it's a historical drama, is it?

I could gush about the theme song, which I've enjoyed for years, even without watching this show, but nah, let's just move on to the show itself. You know the words, and if you don't, go look up "Cruel Angel's Thesis" and prepare to rock out.

There's a little backstory in this episode, but the important stuff is pretty self-evident. There's some giant monster thing that emerged from the water, and a big UN military force is desperate to destroy it before it attacks. Conventional weapons are completely ineffective, and a big chunk of Episode 01 is spent on watching this thing shrug off missiles and shells as it strolls towards... someplace. I'm assuming it's a city or a base.

It's fast, strong, and agile, as seen here when it catches a missile in one hand. The missile explodes in its face and has no effect.

While this is going on, a woman named Misato Katsugari is trying to pick up a kid named Shinji Ikari. The monster attack hits right before she finds him, and he almost gets killed when she pulls up in her car. On their way to the base, she sees that the U.N. is deploying a nuclear weapon? It looks like a nuke, but I missed that line, so maybe it was something else. Anyway, it doesn't work either, but it does blow over Misato's car.

When the dust settles, they push the car back on its wheels and continue. Misato calls for some sort of train to pick them up and take them the rest of the way, and it's like some kind of car-carrier train, I guess. Not important.

Since the nuke didn't work, the UN hands things off to the NERV agency, headed by Shinji's father, Gendo Ikari. Okay, so in brief, they call the monsters "angels", and if I remember right, they said there was an attack fifteen years ago, so this is an ongoing thing. NERV was established to combat these angels, but I guess the UN wanted to see if they could hack it on their own first.

Misato works for NERV, and she introduces Shinji to Ritsuko Akagi. They discuss Shinji as being the "Third Child", so it's becoming clear that Shinji didn't just come here to visit his dad.

I kind of glossed over all this technobabble, but I already know where this is going. There's big robots that can fight the angels, and they must need Shinji to pilot one of them, and he must be uniquely capable of doing so or they wouldn't have bothered sending for him.

The ladies give Shinji a NERV manual to read, but when they show him the robot, they tell him it's not in the manual. So why is there a manual at all? I mean, there's not much else to this operation besides the robots, right? Maybe that's why the manual looks so short.

I guess they were going to slowly introduce Shinji to the job, but the angel is attacking the base, so they kind of cut to the chase. NERV needs Shinji to pilot this specific robot, Evangelion Unit 01, to fight the angel. Shinji is obviously untrained, but his dad insists that he only has to sit in the pilot seat. Shinji still hates this idea, and his dad stone cold doesn't care. Shinji clearly doesn't trust his dad, and his dad stone cold doesn't care about that either.

Misato is the only one here who's even a little sympathetic to Shinji's predicament here, but even she pressures him to get in the robot, because they're all going to die if the angel gets any closer. She says something about how Shinji needs to "confront" his dad and himself, which Shinji seems to understand, like he's known for a while now that this day was coming. He still can't bring himself to go through with it though. So Gendo goes with Plan B.

Plan B is Rei Ayanami, a girl about Shinji's age who piloted another NERV robot, Unit 00. I guess she fought an angel recently, which is why she's so badly hurt in this episode. They have to wheel her in on a gurney. The NERV staff are somewhat incredulous about this, but as Gendo puts it "She's not dead", and if Shinji won't fight, this is all they have left. Despite her condition, Rei agrees to do it, although it's pretty clear to everyone that she's in no condition for this, if she ever was.

While Shinji is still processing the implications of sending Rei in his place, the base is rocked by the angel outside, and it's enough to knock over Rei's gurney and send some stuff crashing onto Shinji... until Unit 01 raises its hand to mimic his own instictive motions. Improbably, Shinji is so in tune with the robot that he can control it from the outside, without even being conscious of it. So this sheds some light on why Gendo wanted him to pilot the thing so badly.

So between this and the pathetic state Rei's in, Shinji agrees to pilot the robot and defend the base. There's a lengthy scene of him getting put inside the robot and sending the robot outside, but I'm not going to do into that.

Gendo's second-in-command asks him if he's sure about this, and he points out that if they don't defeat the angels, then they have no future. As cold and indifferent as he seems, he does have a point. If Rei and Shinji are the only ones who can pilot the robots, what choice do they have? But I'm pretty sure the rest of this series will show that it's not that simple...

And that's the episode. I'm a little surprised they're saving the actual fight for episode 2, but at this point it seems like a foregone conclusion. If Shinji can't win, they all die, and I have a feeling the kaiju battles are kind of secondary to the rest anyway.

The way I understood it, this show started out like a fairly typical Sentai/Kaiju/Whatever-You-Call-It TV series. Kids in colorful suits, they hop in giant robots, which are the only thing that can stop the giant monsters, it's been done a million times. But as the series progresses, it turns into this introspective psychodrama or something. Also, it plays up how messed up it is to send teenagers into a war zone like this, but I think we just saw that happen already, so it looks like the social commentary hit the ground running.

I don't really have much more to say here since we're just getting started. There's not much point in trying to figure out Gendo, even though that's clearly the guy we're supposed to be wondering about. Better to wait for more information and go from there. So I'll see you next time.

[antioxidcnts]

NGA LU FRA'U You are Everything - Tsmukan

Tsmukan - Brother WC: 3.2k FemOmatikaya!Reader Pairings: {Neteyam x Reader - Strangers to Friends to Lovers}, {Lo’ak x Reader, Kiri x Reader, Tuk x Reader, Jake x Reader, Neytiri x Reader – Platonic} {An’oung x Reader, Tsireya x Reader, Ronal x Reader, Tonowari x Reader – Family} 

Oeru txoa livu Sempul - "Please forgive me Father"

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

This version is in Third Person

The first week of the Sullys being here was rough. They were not built to hold their breath as long, swim as fast, and they didn’t know the sign language used underwater. Kirse’s younger brother and sister were the sole teachers of the sully children. She was often too busy to stick around, being the oldest of her father's children, she was trusted with some of the most important tasks. Of course, that didn’t stop her from hanging out from time to time, after finishing her duties early. She would often attend their breathing practice, or lessons on sign. She was sure not to miss the day they were introduced to Ilu’s, knowing that she would get a laugh or two. She arrived on the beach right as Tsireya and An’oung had gathered the Ilu’s “I'm not too late am I?” A smug and gleeful smile on her face. “Right on time actually.” Tsireya smiled, nodding towards the group of Sully children making their way down to the beach. 

An’oung stood before them, a smug smile on his face. “These are Ilu,” He motioned around himself in the water. “If you want to live here. You have to ride.” He dropped his hands into the water. The sully children made their way into the water, each approaching an Ilu. Tsireya moved closer to Lo’ak, gently holding onto the Ilu. “Make the bond gently.” She spoke, looking up towards him. Lo’ak slowly placed his queue against the Ilu’s, watching as they wrapped around each other evenly. “Feel his breath, feel his strength.” She tapped the Ilu, motioning for him to grab on. “Hold here.” She backed away from him, smiling softly to herself. His Ilu moved forward, taking him off in the water. He held on as best he could, water flooding his face and eyes, he eventually let go and disconnected from the Ilu’s queue. He surfaced and coughed, looking at the Ilu in front of him.  

An’oung and his friends laughed at him, and to be honest, Ok’irse and Tsireya did too. They all did, even the other Sully children. It was just funny, different kinds of funny to each of them, but Tsireya thought it was sweet. Neteyam was up next for his trial at an Ilu. Ok’irse was the one who helped him, placing her hand on the Ilu’s head handle. “Hold here, tightly. The water will rush you, so you need to hold on tight.” She placed her hand on his back, pressing firmly against the center of his spine. “Keep your back straight and in line with the Ilu, it will be easier to move the water around you.” Neteyam fixed his posture, connecting his queue with the Ilu. He took a few breaths to steady himself. Ok’irse took a step away and he was off, his Ilu soaring through the water. He was doing pretty well, at first. His Ilu sped up, taking turns left and right in the water. He eventually let go, surfacing as An’oung and his friends laugh hysterically at the sight. Neteyam sighed, glancing over at Ok’irse who also happened to be laughing. His face dropped, swimming back over and standing next to Lo’ak defeated. Ok’irse approached them both. “That was a good start, both of you. I mean it.” She smiled at them both. “You should have seen my attempt at it when I was just 2 years younger than Tuk.” She laughed, reminiscing of her younger memories. This brought a smile to the boys faces, imaging the fierce girl in front of them as a young girl attempting to ride an Ilu for the first time.  

An’oung clearly did not care for the newcomers, even after Ok'irse harshly reminded him that they are just like her. Her sister Tsireya however, well it was more than obvious that she was head over heels for the second Sully son, Lo’ak. The feeling was mutual. Ok’irse enjoyed them though, delighted that the clan took in more members that looked like her. She also had taken quite a liking to the eldest Sully boy, though she would never dare let him know that. She would often find herself glancing his way during her morning duties and thinking about him when she lays awake at night. She prayed to eywa that one day she might not be so busy in order to spend more time with them all. Little did she know she would actually get her wish, or at least part of it.  

Ok’irse spent the time she could with them, constantly running off for her chores or being called by her parents. However things took a turn when one day as she was headed to scouting duty, she overheard arguments coming from the beach. She listened carefully, upon hearing her brothers voice she headed in the direction of the arguing. She wondered what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into now. He was often finding himself in some kind of trouble, Kirse had chalked it up to his bad taste in friends. Except Roxto of course, He was the only sweet one. She walked up to the scene, approaching behind An’oung and his friends. The scene unfolded quickly in front of her, watching as her brother approached the forest boy in front of him. She got there just in time to see her brother fall to the ground.  

“It’s called a punch bitch!” Lo’ak screamed at him. She could tell An’oung was furious, his chest heaving up and down as he looked around at his friends. He saw his sister standing there, still shocked in the moment. She glared at him, warning him with her eyes not to do anything. But it was too late. His idiot friend chimed in and started to punch, kick, pull tails and ears, honestly whatever they could do to each other they did. They broke out into a fight and soon Neteyam jumped in to help his little brothe. For a moment it was entertaining, watching this group of boys fight each other. Ok’irse was going to allow them to fight it out until their parents arrived but something came over her when she saw how upset the Sully boys were. She glanced over at kiri, who had been sitting not far away. Her eyes seemed sad, but she also seemed slightly entertained. She thought about joining the fight, but the idea of fighting her brother was not an ideal one, especially with that situation the way it is. The idea of her fighting his idiot friend though, now that idea had been in her head for a while.  

However Ok’irse was not that stupid. She grabbed An’oung and his friend by the ear, yanking them away from the two boys and throwing them to the sand. “ENOUGH!” She hissed. “All of you.” She growled towards Neteyam and Lo’ak, her demeanor had changed. She turned to An’oung, “What is the meaning of all this?” She spoke, anger seething out of her. “Why must you always disobey father’s direct rules? Are you dense? Do you forget that your actions reflect on him? On us?” An’oung went to speak but was cut off by his older sister. “Do not dare speak.” He closed his mouth, he had grown up with her and only seen her get angry a few times. The Sully children however, had never seen her this way, they only saw the little bits and pieces of her bubbly and sarcastic personality that she hinted to them. They all hung their heads, ears turning down.  

“They called Kiri a freak-“ Lo’ak started but Neteyam shushed him, not wanting to make Ok’irse angrier. Her face dropped, her heart in her stomach. A freak? Her eyes danced over to Lo’ak and Neteyam, eyes scanning them over before seeing Kiri behind them. It broke her heart to see a pained expression on the young girls face. That only seemed to fuel her rage, balling her hands into a fist as her chest heaved up and down. Her vision blurred, feeling her whole body shake underneath her. She turned to An’oung. “A freak?” She hissed, this time lower and more guttural. “You dare call our guests freaks? Our guests who look like your eldest sister?” She scowled, her face and ears burning. “You dare disrespect their people? You dare disrespect your sister!” She felt hot tears roll down her cheek.  

An’oung looked defeated. His demeanor no longer angry but sad. He hated to make her upset. Growing up he had always looked out for her, telling her that it didn’t matter that she was different, that he loved her all the same. That made his words sting far worse. 

Both their families arrived to the scene right on time, almost on que. Ok’irse didn’t even look at them. She rushed away, brushing past Tonowari and Ronal, her hands covering her face to hide the tears. She ran away. Running had always been her strong suit. She ran as far as she could, as fast as she could. She ran deep into the forest, not looking or worrying about where she was going. She just ran. She couldn’t stay there and face them. She couldn’t face her own family. Not after her heart had been broken like this. She had always felt out of place but never once in her own family. Not until she heard those words fall from Lo’aks mouth. He called Kiri a freak. He must of thought the same of her then, how could he not? They were the same.  

When she finally stopped running she looked around,  realizing she had no idea where she was or where she came from. She had gotten lost in a forest she had explored for years. She sat down against the nearest tree and sobbed, her emotions flowing out of her. Her body shook with every tear that fell from her eyes. How could he say those things? How could he have made her feel so special for years only to break all that trust with one word? Ok’irse was heartbroken to be betrayed like that, especially from her own brother. She may have been slightly older but she still felt as if he had protected her. She laid her head between her knees, making her way to the forest floor. She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her legs and crying. The tears eventually stopped as she fell asleep on the floor. Her shaking body relaxing as the night slips on.  

The Olo’eyktan’s family was worried, angry, distraught. Ronal had never seem their daughter so bothered. She was usually a force to be reckoned with, stubborn and strong willed. She worried for their daughter, knowing that the words their son had spoken would scar her heart forever. They were unsure if Kirse would come back, nothing like this had happened before, and she had never not come home before the night had taken over. She had never skipped out on her duties before, this worried her father. He worried for his daughter, but more so he worried for his son and what was to come of him. Tonowari dragged his son back to their marui, eyes full of worry, sadness and fear. He had never screamed at anyone the way he screamed at An’oung that night. The sound of his fathers voice echoed in his ears, “How could you do this to your family? Do you have any idea how this reflects on us? Your sister is missing and you seem to not care at all! Were you even thinking? How do you expect to have a chance at being Olo’eyktan if you cannot embrace diversity and lead by example?”  The entire village could hear him being reprimanded for the things he said to not only the Sully’s, but to his own sister.  

Fortunately for the family, a young boy came after their daughter. He had chased after her before his parents could talk him out of it. He knew she didn’t need to be alone, and he was right. He followed the general direction that she had gone in, hoping to stumble upon her as he had kept his distance. He saw a few scuffle marks and broken branches near a bush, hoping to find Ok’irse he pulled a branch back and peaked his head through to see what was going on. He scanned the area, then looked down. He saw her curled up, tear-stained cheeks, pale and shaking. He sighed heavily, knowing his friend was in distress. He sat down next to her and gently caressed her hair. Deciding to wait a while to head back, he sat and watched over her while she slept. He knew she was exhausted from her duties all the time. She didn’t really get to be a kid, at least not from what she has told him.  

After about an hour of sitting with her, he gently scooped her up. He hooked his arm underneath her knees and placed the other on her back, holding her against his chest. He walked slowly back towards the village, careful not to wake her. She woke up to arms around her, carrying her bridal style back to the village. She thought it might be Neteyam, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. She was slightly surprised to hear Lo’ak speak instead. “You’re finally awake?” She lifted her head to look at him, a pleading look in her eyes.  “I don’t want to go back yet, please.” She hung her head down, laying it on his chest. “Your family is worried for you.” She huffed, not wanting to hear it. “I do not care Lo’ak, I do not wish to see them.” The relationship she had with Lo’ak was not complicated in the slightest. They gave each other a lot of shit, but it was very apparent that they had an unspoken bond. They cared for each other, he looked out for her, and she looked out for him. It was apparent that first day they met when they were walking back from her special spot in the forest. He set her down, sighing as he looked at her. “If you don’t come back with me they will send Neteyam, and you know he will not leave without you.” She rolled her eyes, knowing he was speaking the truth.  

“Fine.”  

She eventually gave in, climbing down from his arms and walking back to the village with Lo’ak by her side. She knew that not only would they send Neteyam, they would berate Lo’ak for being unable to find her. He wouldn’t of let them know that he had indeed found her, just taken the blame instead. They said their goodbyes, she thanked him for taking her home safely, and they parted ways. Ok’irse was nervous, unaware of what to expect when she reached her family marui. She walked slowly towards the marui, hearing the faint voices inside made her heart crumble. She felt the knots forming in her stomach as her chest and face began to grow hot. She entered her home, coming face to face with her entire family, all staring at the door. They were awaiting her return. All of them looked towards her, except An’oung, who kept his head hung looking at the floor.  

“Oeru txoa livu Sempul I should not of run off, I should have returned sooner.” Her voice was small, all confidence she had in her now gone. Her eyes avoided her family. The only one she could stand to look at right now was Tsireya. Her body felt like an empty shell. She felt as if all the things that made her who she was disappeared. She felt like nothing.  She didn’t dare look towards An’oung, though she could tell from the corner of her eyes that his eye was bruised from the punch Lo’ak had thrown. “Ok’irse.” She was broken from her trance, looking up to meet the eyes of her mother. “An’oung has something he wishes to say to you. In private. You shall go on a short walk and come back, understood?” All she could do was nod. She did not want to speak to him, nor hear what he had to say but she had to. It was her mother’s request, and she would not disobey her mother.  

He stood up, following her out of the marui and making their way over to the beach. They walked alongside each other for a while, neither one of them managing the courage to say anything to the other. An’oung finally spoke up.  “I am sorry Ok’ay.” He started speaking and stopped moving. Ok’irse stopped and turned to him, they had always been close growing up because of their closeness in age and interests. She had taught him many things growing up, she would try it once and then he would go next. They had been two peas in a pod until the news of Olo’eyktan. 

“I know that is not a true apology, or at least one you will accept.” His words burned her skin and she fell silent as she listened to him. “I know that excuses do not make up for my mistakes, I have been having a hard time accepting all of this.” Tears brimmed at his eyes as he winced, holding his bruised cheek. “I should not of spoken to them that way, about them that way.” He hesitated. “About you that way.” He hung his head in shame. “You are my sister, the future Olo’eyktan of our clan and one of my best friends. I never meant to hurt you in such a way. I-“ Kirse held her hand up to silence him. “Apologize to the Sullys, I will forgive you after you have made a sincere apology to the Sully’s for what you have said.” Her word’s obviously disappointed him, as he did not want to apologize to the Sully’s.  

“Please do not speak of me as the future Olo’eyktan. As we know that both our names are up for the title.” She hissed, giving him a disapproving look. Her gaze softened as she saw him shudder in tears. She hated when he cried. He could try all he wanted to be all big and tough, but Ok’irse knew under the act was a pile of mush. She pulled him close by his arm, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his hair. “It’s alright An’oung, do not worry. I will make you some cream for your face before bed tonight.” She rested her arm over his shoulder and headed back to their family marui. She entered, holding the flap open for her brother. He trailed in, walking over to the corner where Kirse would usually patch him up when he was injured. The family looked pleased to see them together with peaceful expressions upon their faces. Kirse began to mush some ingredients together, creating a thick paste. She scooped some with her finger and applied it to An’oung’s face. He hissed at the sting, swatting at her hand. “Hey stop it that burns!” He groaned and she smiled, rubbing more of the paste on his face deliberately. “Hey!” Their mother looked ecstatic to see her still taking care of her brother in such a nurturing, but sisterly way. Of course she would. He’s her little brother, no matter how stupid.  

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience! I spent much longer with my family than I had originally anticipated but I still wanted to post this tonight even though it's technically tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed this part! I am really enjoying refining the work and adding finishing touches. The next part that I am going to post I actually have not written yet, I decided when proofreading that I wanted to add another part so I am going to write it tomorrow and post it either tomorrow night or on Saturday. Thank you so much for reading and I would love some feedback! If you have any critiques for my writing I'm open to them as long as they are constructive and not rude. Thank you again for all the support, I am extremely appreciative.

TAGLIST + @kachowness @eywas-heir @sunjayist @neenieweenie @yeosxxx @fanboyluvr @junnniiieee07 @projectdaydreamer @mashiromochi @thexplosivegirll @itszzmoon

[3tabbiesandalab]

Old Cowboy Sayings (Part 1)

*Updated with reader warnings (sorry forgot to add them before)

Here’s the part 1 of Rhett Abbott x Reader

Prologue Part 2  Part 3  Epilogue

Rhett is a fucking mess but he’s been made to feel mediocre his whole life so he just believes it. Reader comes along to hopefully make him see his worth.

Contains mentions of SMUT

Enjoy!

……

Rhett was hungover as hell. His three rides at the local rodeo last night were frustrating to say the least. Introduced not by name but as the son of the ‘great bull riding champ Royal Abbott’ hadn’t helped his mood as he was bucked all three times before the 8. Rhett had drowned his failure in the bottom of a bottle of whisky and his cock down the throat of some nameless girl wanting to hook up with a rider, losing or not. He wasn’t proud of it, but it had numbed his disappointment and that of his family. Rhett felt like shit, stinking of booze and sweat in last night’s clothes, but was helping Cecelia finish up cleaning the dusty small loft above the barn. Perry as usual of late, was nowhere to be seen but Rhett could forgive the man this once. The loft, an open space big enough for a bed and dresser with a small bathroom attached, was once used by Rebecca. It had remained untouched since her disappearance but was about to be occupied again by the daughter of one of Cecelia’s church friends. With little interest Rhett had overheard some of the story as Cecelia told Royal of her plans. Her friend had left to marry a rancher a few states over long ago, but they stayed in touch over the years. The friend and her husband, who reading between the lines was not a good man, had both died recently and their only kid had sold the ranch to escape ‘bad memories’, as Cecelia had put it. And Rhett knew something about that so he couldn’t fault them for wanting to leave the place that caused it. Royal was a hard, inflexible man and most of the time Cecelia was quiet, passive and went along with his choices. But Rhett knew his mother was a not meek woman and could be steadfast and assert herself when it mattered to her. It used to upset him that she didn’t choose to use it to stand up for him, but he was used to it by now. 

Rhett supposed he was a little like her, following along with whatever his family had decided for him and only speaking when he had something to say, not that anyone listened. The only time he really asserted himself was while drunk in a bar fight and it was usually over some throw away comment, not anything really important. Cecelia said it was her Christian duty to help this girl who had no one and she would be living and working on the ranch for food and board, so he knew her word was final and even a prickly Royal had no say in the matter. Rhett had imagined she was going to be some young, timid church mouse type and that really wasn’t his thing. So while they finished cleaning the loft and Cecelia said he wasn’t to touch her, Rhett chuckled a little and replied “Yes ma’am.” How wrong he was. YFN as she was called, pulled up in her old truck a little later and Cecelia had the whole Abbott family lined up to greet her. She was an attractive, petite woman of a similar age to Rhett. He couldn’t help but run his appreciative eyes over her curvy hips, shapely thighs, and round ass in her worn jeans as she leant into the bed of her truck to get her duffle. As YFN walked towards them, he noticed the swing of those hips and the stretch of her shirt over her ample tits as he scanned up her body towards her lovely face. Fuck. She wasn’t a young girl at all and by the way she swayed her hips, she didn’t look to be an innocent either. She was a pretty little thing, and the no touching rule was going to be much harder than he first thought. YFN greeted Cecelia with a bunch of flowers and a long hug, his mother whispered to her and whatever was said was met with YFN’s sad smile. Cecelia introduced her to his father and brother, and she shook Royal then Perry’s hand with a small nod, Perry openly staring at her. Rhett frowned slightly at that, he’d seen that look on him before and didn’t like it at all. YFN very quickly moved on from him and smiled warmly at Amy and already had his niece wrapped around her little finger by handing her a gift that appeared to be coloured pencils and a notebook. “This is our youngest boy Rhett.” his mother spoke, “Don’t mind the state of him.”

Rhett studied her pretty eyes, pink plump lips and the smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Damn she was a looker. “Hi.” YFN smiled and her eyes met his, “I’m okay with a mess.” she said, voice like honey and she extended her hand to him. Rhett didn’t know if she was talking about his appearance or if she already had him pegged as the family disappointment. He wiped the dirt off his hand on last night’s jeans. Shit he wished he’d cleaned up when he got home early this morning. He took her outstretched hand in his and was surprised to find it calloused and rough much like his own. A slow warmth from Rhett’s palm spread throughout his body. He had lost count of how many women he’d screwed to feel anything, but a simple handshake from her stirred something in Rhett. YFN raised an eyebrow at him. Rhett released the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and quietly uttered “Ma’am.” She smiled sweetly and dropped his hand before turning back to address Royal “Thank you for lettin’ me stay. I’ll work hard and do what’s asked of me.” “Best you do.” Royal grunted, “You ride girl?” “All my life sir. My horse was sold in the settlement though.” YFN replied unphased by Royal’s coolness. “Go on and get yourself squared away then.” he pointed to the barn and then at Rhett. “The boy will get you acquainted with a horse and then you can help him. His no-good drunk ass surely needs it.” Royal said resentfully. 

His father and Perry walked off in the opposite direction of the barn and without a word, Cecelia took Amy inside, leaving Rhett and YFN standing together. 

He wasn’t surprised at Royal’s comment or his family’s hasty departure because of it, but Rhett’s head and shoulders dropped. “Rhett.” YFN said gently. He was surprised she hadn’t walked off too. Rhett looked at her expecting to see pity or judgement, but he just saw understanding in her eyes. “I had a daddy like that too.” she revealed softly, voice laced with a little resentment, “I ain’t gonna listen to yours either when he says crap like that.”

Rhett was surprised by both her candour and that she had chosen not to believe his father’s words, but he said nothing.

“You know, my mamma had an old cowboy saying, ‘Don’t judge anyone by their relatives’.” YFN said simply. Rhett took a moment and searched her eyes for an indication she wasn’t being genuine, but he found none. 

“You always listen to your mamma?” he asked, voice hoarse from his hangover. A wry smile graced her lips “She was a religious woman so not always…” The corner of Rhett’s mouth turned up ever so slightly, “That so?” “Mm-hmm.” YFN hummed, “I mean it. I ain’t gonna settle on who you are based off them.” Rhett nodded at that, he was grateful but it was only a matter of time until she realised for herself that he was just as they said. YFN laughed lightly to herself, and Rhett thought it was the sweetest sound. 

“You do smell like shit though.” she said amused. Rhett smiled at that. A real smile, one that was usually reserved for Amy or a good bull ride. This girl was something special. A pretty face and curves, and kind with a witty mouth on her. She didn’t need a man like him screwing with her so Rhett knew he would look but do as Cecelia asked and try his best not to touch. “I know. Lemme find you a horse and show you the ropes then.” he said still smiling as he picked up YFN’s duffle and walked with her to the barn. …… A few months passed on the Abbott Ranch, one day rolling into the next as it always did but for Rhett, it felt different. He was still a goddamn mess, but he just didn’t feel so lonely or detached as he once did.  Rhett still drank almost every night, got into fights, and had a few quick fucks when he was irritated at his riding, but it wasn’t all he had anymore. YFN had fit in like she’d always been there. The work was the same, but Rhett was no longer tasked with the bulk of it alone. His father had put YFN with Rhett to learn, but if it was meant as another chore for him, it had backfired. She was anything but a burden to him or to the ranch. And it was almost as if YFN breathed life back into it, and breathed life back into him. She was kind, funny and helpful and Rhett thought her to be very intelligent but in two different ways. Firstly because she’d figured out early on to avoid a hard, dismissive Royal and an unstable, leering Perry as much as possible. And secondly, she was smart enough to give Amy a hand with her homework and helped Cecelia in figuring out to the ranch’s messy financial situation, albeit without Royal’s knowledge. Rhett thought he should be jealous of YFN, as Amy and Cecelia were both obviously fond of her, and his mother trusted had her to help, something that hadn’t ever been afforded to him. But he wasn’t in the slightest, Rhett was pleased YFN was helping the women in his life. From growing up on a ranch, YFN had the skill and the strength to manage the routine and tasks of one. She was hard working and capable and true to her word she did everything that was asked of her to earn her place at the ranch. YFN and Rhett had quickly found a daily rhythm and worked well together, each balancing out the strengths and weaknesses of the other. She wasn’t as lazy or as careless as Perry and didn’t chastise him or judge him in silence like Royal. YFN seemed content just let him work the way he wanted, offering suggestions occasionally but never criticising and she was open when he did the same. From the get-go Rhett had just one problem living and working with YFN. 

It was hard to keep his mind off her. In the beginning, YFN was focused on finding her place and learning the routine, so she didn’t talk a lot save a bit of a chat here or a joke there. And Rhett wasn’t one for talking much anyway so he no issue with the comfortable silence. But fuck did his cock have other ideas.

Rhett was very attracted to YFN, and he couldn’t help but fix on the way her jeans hugged her ass as she bent over, the bounce of her full tits as she rode her horse or her the way her tongue ran over her chapped lips after a day working in the sun. Rhett often hid the growing bulge in his jeans during the day and fisted himself in the shower at night, as he imagined those lips wrapped around his dick or her his face buried in her ample chest as she rode him. Rhett was good at picking up on physical cues of women and was pretty sure YFN was attracted to him too. She flirted with him, but didn’t tease and Rhett noticed her appraising him, biting her lip, and subtly rubbing her thighs together quite often. They had never really touched. Just the occasional contact of fingers when she handed something to him or when they brushed past each other in a small space. But even the smallest contact was enough to make Rhett hard. He knew she was no church mouse, but she didn’t act like a slut either. YFN never made a move so neither did Rhett. They just continued to dance around each other for months on end. Any other woman and he would of her bent over something by now and fucked her. But YFN was special so he let her be. He’d curb the need she set off inside of him by screwing a random ‘buckle bunny’ here and there, all while thinking of YFN. Rhett was a mongrel for doing it, but he wasn’t worthy of her and needed to release his tension with those girls who were willing. And he didn’t want to ruin anything between them because he couldn’t keep his cock under control around her. Rhett had found a way to handle the sexual attraction. But he very quickly found himself catching feelings for her. He hadn’t cared about anyone since Maria and he was pretty naive to it all back then, so Rhett didn’t know how to handle feelings. Rhett was quiet by nature, except if he was drunk then he became a little loose lipped especially when he was fucking. But he had also been led to believe most of his life that what he said was of little value or interest, so he just kept his mouth shut.  But then YFN came along and started asking him about himself like she really wanted to know him. Simple things at first, like his favourite colour or what music he liked. The short lines of questioning eventually morphed into deeper things like why bull riding was important to him, where he felt the most peaceful and they even touched on the shit with his family. Rhett wanted to know her too and YFN was open and honest with him, two things most people weren’t in his experience. She was full of witty one-liners and dirty jokes, and Rhett had laughed more in months, than he had his whole life.

With the money problems at the ranch, YFN encouraged Rhett with his ideas to help turn things around. His family had never involved him, Rhett was labour and nothing more, but she praised him for his thoughts and possible solutions and promised to support him if he presented them to his family. They hadn’t got to spend any time alone outside of working, but she often joined in when he and Amy did something, all of them laughing and being silly together.  Rhett had never dared to dream of a family but as he watched her with Amy, it gave him the smallest sliver hope and set off something off primal inside of him. So Rhett wanted to fuck YFN, in every goddamn way he knew how. But he wanted to love her. Ride bulls, work honestly, breed babies into her and share a life together. Rhett remembered an old cowboy saying his grandfather used to use, ‘You think everything in the universe revolves around the sun, but once you love a cowgirl you know that everything revolves around her’. Rhett used to believe it was stupid, but he felt that way about YFN. He knew YFN was attracted to him and genuinely wanted to know him, but he doubted she wanted these all things with him, no one ever had. So he resigned himself to be content with the ways she was already making his mediocre and messy life better by just being in it.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azris Week Day 1

Prologues & Prequels - First Encounter: At a very young age, Azriel and Eris meet for the first time in the Hewn City and don't really know what this first encounter means for them. for @azrisweek; thank you @iftheshoef1tz @darkphilosphies and @ofduskanddreams for hosting this week💛

The big marble doors open, and in walk Beron and his Autumn Court entourage. But there is a new member, someone the bat boys have never seen before, nor have the other Night Court inhabitants. It is a young, slender boy with auburn hair. He is skinny, his lips pressed in a thin line, his eyes wide open, trained on what is ahead of him, his freckles a stark contrast to his pale skin. 

“High Lord of the Autumn,” Theon, High Lord of the Night Court, greets in a loud voice that is filled with nothing but power and strength and bounces of the dark walls, hollowing through the room. He stands and bows a little at the waist. Beron returns the gesture and though it all seems serious and polite, one could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Night and Autumn aren’t friends, they are mere inter-courtal partners. But for some things you just have to meet and discuss them in person and not via letters, some things can’t be avoided and so Beron Vanserra and some chosen members of his court were invited for a diplomatic meeting in the Hewn City. 

“High Lord of the Night Court,” Beron greets when he stops right in front of the lifted dais. He lets his gaze move over Rhysand, to Cassian, to Azriel. To Morrigan, her yet unaware of the marriage that is planned for her in a few years. Lastly Beron’s gaze moves Keir and he slowly he inclines his head, some silent conversation passing between them. Mor is only allowed to be here for that one reason — marrying Eris in the future. Otherwise, she would not be here, would be with Rhysand’s mother and sister.

“I brought my eldest son along for the meeting. He should learn about politics and diplomacy from early on,” Beron explained as he reached backwards to grab his son by the neck. It could look like a nice fatherly gesture, but instead it gave Eris the chills, made his knees wobble and his breath catch in his throat. His father wouldn’t hit him here, but he has no idea what would await him at home if he put one toe out of place during this meeting. 

“Go on, introduce yourself!” Beron urges his son and shoves him forward. The prince’s shoes seem too loud on the black marble floor and echo through his mind — just don’t do anything wrong.

Eris, affected by the hardship of his upbringing, stutters a little and barely manages to bring out the words he has practiced so diligently and for such a long time. It is Cassian who chuckles a little at the pitiful state the prince of the Autumn Court is in and it only makes Eris more nervous — he is like a sitting duck to them. 

Eris slowly lifts his gaze, nothing of the strong and cocky Eris Vanserra he one day would be, in sight back then. He intertwines his trembling fingers and finally lifts his gaze to Theon. 

“Pleasure to meet you, High Lord of the Night Court. I am Eris Vanserra, first born son of Beron Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court.” He rattles through the well-learned phrases, his heart hammering in his throat, and when finished, releases a loud breath.

“Pleasure.” It is Theon’s only answer, his voice just on the edge of disdainful. He can’t care less about the Vanserra son, but still he tilts his head at Rhys, wanting him to prove the same manners. His son steps forward with both his brothers in tow — Cassian walking proudly, Azriel scuffing forward. 

“Rhysand,” the High Lord’s son introduces himself and also bows at the waist. Theon grunts a little, hoping Rhysand would get the memo to continue and say something smart like Eris did. Young Rhys clears his throat. “Son of Theon, High Lord of the Night Court.”

Eris inclines his head, his lips pursed and his fingers still tightly entangled. He looks like a fool, Rhysand thinks to himself and a cocky smile appears on his lips. He reaches his hand forward for Eris to shake. The Autumn Court heir’s hand trembles as he does so. 

“That is Cassian,” Rhysand introduces and makes room for his two best friends. 

“Eris Vanserra,” the prince of the Autumn Court repeats, bows again and also shakes Cassian’s hand. The Illyrian’s firm handshake nearly makes the prince wince, but he forces a small smile onto his lips. Last in line is a boy who is surrounded by shadows that somehow mesmerize the heir to the Autumn Court. His lips part a little, eyes going wide. How did he get them? he thinks to himself, following one of them that dances towards him. Eris hopes it reaches him so he can touch it, wondering if you could even feel it. But unfortunately, it quickly snatches back to his owner when the shadowy boy mumbles something under his breath. His face is unreadable, emotionless…shadowy.

“Eris Vanserra.” The prince bows at his waist and then reaches his hand forward. The shadowy boy, bites down on his lip, takes another hesitant step forward and finally lifts his gaze. Azriel is a little taller than Eris, not much, but he is already much stronger built — definitely due to his Illyrian heritage. Azriel does not reach his hand forward immediately only when Theon grunts again does he move his hand towards Eris’ already extended one. Their eyes meet when their palms touch for the first time. It feels like…like lightning zips between their hands and both quickly move their hands back, thinking they might have gotten a little electric shock. Only later do they discover what this little sparkle meant back then. They have no time to talk, don’t even want to, too astonished and irritated over the touch of their hands and what it did to them. Beron clasps Eris’ shoulder tightly and pulls him backwards. “Now, let’s move on to business, shall we?”

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

tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop

[morvantmortuary]

morvant mortuary x the boy au - prologue

don’t mind me, just posting a snippet here to give me motivation to finish my damn diss chapter and get it sent off tomorrow so I can go back to working on this thing I’ve been fiddling with all summer

Even the realtor had seemed hesitant to show you the old funeral home on the edge of town, despite both the fact that it had been for sale for years now, and that she, like you, was just starting out in her line of work. In fact, just as you were looking to start your own business, it appeared you were slated to be her first real potential buyer.

Beverly was a bubbly blonde in all pink, grasping your extended hand with both of her perfectly manicured ones like you were long-estranged family when you’d introduced yourself to her that morning.

“Oh, call me Bev, everyone does,” she’d said brightly, with only a hint of how often she must’ve practiced this studied casualness in the mirror every day.

Despite the fact that there couldn’t have been more than five years between the two of you, something about her in her small town Main Street office felt… older. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that she was wearing a vintage suit set of a matching blazer and skirt (a clever reproduction or a cherished hand-me-down, you weren’t sure), or the way her hair was stiff with mousse in a way that reminded you of your teachers in mortuary school. Standing in front of her, you got the vaguest impression that her concept of becoming a working professional was either heavily inspired by her mother’s standards, or 9 to 5. (Which you admitted was a masterpiece, but still.)

…And yet, as badly as she must have needed this, it was as though whatever money she stood to make from the sale, or the triumph over a seemingly unsellable listing, didn’t make her any more eager for the drive out -- much less walking inside.

But if you were ever going to be able to afford opening your own funeral home, you had to save your money where you could — even if it meant gutting a building and refinishing everything yourself. Even if it meant living in and servicing a town like Greymoon, that hardly anyone had ever heard of unless they were born there.

But hey, this was the cheapest place you’d seen yet, and if the facilities were at all usable, it was that much less work for you in the long run.

Maybe you’d be able to afford that cherry red Frigid embalming machine after all… although you were trying not to get your hopes up yet.

You were determined to make this work, even when Bev had hemmed and hawed as soon as you said you wanted to see the property.

Or when, like a nervous lap dog, you couldn't get her to walk through the front door.

As you stared through into the foyer (still dark at high noon, you couldn’t help but note), she lingered hesitantly on the weathered porch out front (the wood surprisingly still solid, despite the number of years this place was supposed to be abandoned). When you stood waiting for her in the doorway, she clutched her binders like an antsy school girl, her perfectly coiffed hair and pink retro suit set suddenly looking like she’d filched her mother's clothes for a dress-up game.

"You go on and take your time, hon," Bev said at last, her smile as wide as she could make it. "I... just need to make a phone call. Holler if you have any questions, okay? I’ll be right out here.”

That maybe should have been a sign.

“Um.” You were trying very hard not to seem too thrown off by this. You’d researched this whole house-hunting thing thoroughly — read everything you could on the few web forums that hadn’t collapsed under mismanagement, asked what adult relatives you had that had actually bought property before how this was supposed to go. You had come here with a list in the back of your head, feeling on your guard and prepared for every eventually… except this one. “I was under the impression,” you demurred, choosing your words. “That a showing at a property this old would be a little less self-guided.”

“Oh, well,” Bev demurred back, waving her free hand. “It only looks that big from the outside, I promise. Once you’re in there it’s really quite cozy.” She laughed, a light little giggle that sounded like nothing. “I’d just get in your way, honestly. You’re really gonna want to see it for yourself.”

You looked over your shoulder at the foyer behind you, trying to seem nonchalant as you surveyed how the sunlight didn’t seem to reach all the way in. “Hasn’t this place been abandoned for, like… twenty years?”

“Oh, honey, not that long!” Bev faux-laughed again. “It’s been uninhabited for nineteen, true, but we had crews in to take care of cleaning and upkeep when the listing passed into our hands. It’s not fallin’ - ing apart or anything. You’ll be just fine, I promise. In fact — here.” She opened her binder, rustling through a stack of papers that she seemed to be carefully angling away from your view before she snapped it shut again, holding out a scan of the house blueprints. “See, everything’s right there in black and white!”

You stared at the page in your hands, feeling disoriented for a moment as you tried to make sense of the smeary printer ink lines in front of you. Once you got your bearings, however, one thing was clear. “…This is the wrong house,” you said at last.

Bev blinked, her smile not moving an inch. “Beg your pardon?”

“These are for a house with a basement.” You looked back up at her, holding the page half-heartedly back out so she could correct herself. This was not… going like you’d hoped. If she couldn’t be expected to show up with the right information — this didn’t bode well for your working relationship.

“This house does have a basement,” she said, nodding while her expression still never budged. You were beginning to wonder if it was practice or preventative botox.

The page drooped in your hand as you stared at her. “This house has a basement,” you repeated slowly. “In Louisiana? This close to the bayou?” Your eyes flicked over her shoulder to your car parked in the drive, wondering if you should just leave right now.

“I know!” She giggled, like it was just a kooky fun fact between pals. “It’s the damn- darnedest thing, isn’t it? But it was a functioning funeral home for - oh, it must’ve been decades, before the family… left. Longer than a lot of us can remember. We had professors from the local junior college in to look at it and everything — none of them could explain it, but they said it was sound as a rock! I told you,” she nodded like a bobblehead. “You really need to see it for yourself.” She gestured back to the scan again, hopeful. She couldn’t disguise the nervousness in the set of her teeth, and it gave you pause…

But still. When were you going to find another chance like this? In your price range (barely), and in this market? At your age?

“…Okay.” You turned slowly, plans in your hand, back to the waiting maw of the door. “I guess I’ll give it a look, then.”

“I’ll just be right here,” Bev repeated, the relief in her voice tangible. “You take all the time you need. Ask me anything when you get out. We’ll make it work!”

“…Sure,” you said without hearing yourself. It took you a long moment - for what, you weren’t sure - but continued your journey into the shadowy guts of the house.

Though you couldn’t see it, Bev, with the smile finally gone from her face, had the decency to watch your retreating form as the front door slowly swung shut behind you — without a touch from either of your hands.

Her eyes, as much as she didn’t want them to, swung upwards to the second story window.

For a minute, she was a freshman in college again, listening to the whispers of what had come to haunt this place. What had happened to everyone inside.

…When a shape seemed to move away from the yellowing linen curtains, just visible through the moth-eaten fabric, she jammed her hand into her purse, desperately digging for her cigarettes.

In the yard, the cicadas’ insistent whirring climaxed to a low roar: an echo of a long-dead gathered crowd, cheering as the House selected anew.

(with love as always to @fairyysoup and the sluts, who joked about this and then I took it seriously :’D)

[oliverreedmasterass]

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Interlude | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Second Interlude | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Epilogue

Chapter Summary: Rae's first day at her new school ends up being worse than she could have ever imagined.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: language, mentions of missing people, leukemia

Notes: Thank you to @infinisonicosm for the fic idea!!

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

Rae didn’t text Jake. Instead she remained trapped in the confines of her new home, doing anything she could to keep her mind off Jake and whatever his deal was. Whenever her mind wandered to him and Sam and Josh and Sam’s friend, she put a new record on her turntable and cranked the volume all the way up to drown out her thoughts. Occasionally she’d peer out her window, worried she would see Jake standing down on the sidewalk, but he was never there. Maybe he understood that he had crossed a line. 

Monday rolled around a lot faster than Rae liked. That morning she woke up with anxiety churning in her stomach, her brain already thinking of viable excuses to get out of walking through the front doors of the high school. She didn’t want Jake to confront her about not contacting him, she didn’t want Josh to talk to her in his icy voice, and she didn’t want to be the new kid in school. She yearned to be back in Folsom, surrounded by her long-time friends, going to a school that was big enough that it was impossible to stand out. Rae liked staying tucked in the background for the most part, but it seemed like that was going to be a challenge in this small town. 

Despite wanting to stay in bed for the rest of her life, Rae forced herself downstairs to the kitchen where she could fix herself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Morgan was already there, shoving the pack of tampons that Rae had given him into the front pouch of his brand new backpack. 

“You ready for your first day?” Rae could do nothing to make herself sound enthusiastic. 

“Much more than you are,” Morgan chirped back. He dropped his backpack by his feet and redirected his attention back to a bowl of yogurt and fruit that he had fixed for himself. “I’m ready for a new start.” 

Rae shrugged. “That’s a nice way to think about it.”

“I’m gonna tell people my uncle is Vin Diesel.” 

“Thanks for letting me know so I can back you up on that one.” 

Rae and Morgan’s father drove them to Frankenmuth High even though it was only a fifteen minute walk away. Rae knew it was because he didn’t want Morgan to over-exert himself, but she also appreciated that it lowered the chances of her running into Jake. What she hadn’t expected, though, was for Jake and Sam to be standing at the front steps of Frankenmuth High, scanning around for her. 

Jake perked up at the sight of Rae as she slid out of the backseat with her head down, and rushed to her side. 

“I was worried something happened to you,” he greeted her, looking relieved. 

Behind him, Sam shook Morgan’s hand and introduced himself. 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Rae told Jake under her breath. Jake backed away from her in shock. 

“Huh? What did I do?” He didn’t sound angry, just baffled. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Rae was short. She was having a lot of trouble looking him in the eyes. “Just, leave me alone.” 

“Rae, wait,” Jake said, but Rae was already hurrying through the front doors. Morgan had been in the middle of chatting with Sam about Michigan sports teams, but he rushed to catch up to Rae when he saw her speed away. Once they entered the crowded hallway, he reached out and put a soft hand on her shoulder to slow her down. 

“You good?” 

“I hope.” 

Rae was a bit disappointed that she didn’t have someone to show her around the campus so she wasn’t aimlessly wandering around, but she was also relieved to be away from Jake. Her morning was relatively mellow: she liked her teachers well enough and met a few classmates who seemed kind. Things were starting to feel like they could maybe be normal, which was a relief. 

Rae strolled out of her US history class and searched around to find a place where she could relax during their ten minute break. She settled for a bench that overlooked some outdoor basketball courts and slid her backpack off to retrieve a snack. While she fished around her messy bag, she hoped that Morgan was doing well and making friends. She hadn’t seen him since they went their separate ways for their first period classes, but she felt a knot form in her stomach at the thought that Morgan was hanging around Sam. She unwrapped a breakfast bar and took a large bite as she considered the best way to tell Morgan he should stay away from that kid. A familiar voice spoke behind her. 

“Jake ditch you?” Rae’s arms broke out in goosebumps. She slowly turned back and was face to face with Josh, who was smirking at her. She sealed her lips shut and shook her head in the hopes that was enough to get him to go away. It was not. Josh joined her on the bench, notably making an effort to give her some space as he sat at the far end. “I feel like we started off on the wrong foot.” 

“You could say that,” Rae retorted, immediately regretting that she had engaged with him in conversation. He was going to stick around now. 

“I don’t know what Jake told you, but I’m really not a bad guy,” Josh’s tone was warmer, the chill gone. “If anything, you should probably steer clear of him.” 

“Trust me, I am.” 

Josh looked intrigued. “He must have really screwed things up.” 

Rae knew that she shouldn’t say anything but, at the same time, she was curious if Josh had any insights about Jake to help her understand what she was dealing with. 

“He’s just, I don’t know, kinda weird?” Rae started. 

Josh gave a merry laugh. “That’s one way to describe him.” 

“He was really nice to me, don’t get me wrong but, I don’t know, I think it would be best if I kept my distance.” 

“What did he do?” 

“He, uh, showed up at my house. I never told him where I live.” 

Josh’s face was scrunched in a mixture of confusion and disturbance. 

“Fuckin weirdo,” he murmured. 

“Okay, good, I’m glad I’m not overreacting,” Rae breathed out a sigh of relief. Morgan hadn’t been nearly as troubled as she felt after Jake left the other night. He reasoned that Jake must have known the area well, and was aware that their house had recently been bought. Rae attempted to convince him to think otherwise, but she found that it was challenging for her to find the right words to describe why she was suddenly so nervous about Jake. Explaining that it was another “gut feeling” wasn’t enough to get Morgan on board. 

He just kept repeating, “He seems like a nice guy.” 

“No, he’s got to respect your territory,” Josh spoke, starting to look fired up. Rae regretted saying anything to him. “He should know that, of all people.” 

“What does that mean?” Rae was desperate for answers. “Does this have something to do with your beef?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Could you say more? Because I’m getting really tired of the cryptic talk. I just want to know what the hell is going on with you guys and this freaky town.” 

Josh shot her an apologetic smile and shook his head. “That’s a can of worms you don’t want to open, sorry.” 

Rae wanted to protest that that was actually exactly what she wanted to do, but the warning bell rang, indicating that they had to make their way to their third period class. 

“Where are you headed?” Josh asked. Rae was thrown off by how kind he was being to her. She wondered if he had any ulterior motives. 

“Biology,” she answered with caution. 

“With Mr. Dalton?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Cool, I’ll walk you there.” 

Rae didn’t protest as Josh popped to his feet and waited for her to gather her things. They set off for the far end of the school, where the labs were tucked away, and Josh attempted to make some friendly small talk. 

“Where are you from, new girl?” 

“California.” 

Josh let out a long whistle. “Frankenmuth is one hell of a downgrade.” 

Rae attempted to break the news to Josh as quickly as possible, like ripping off a bandaid. “We moved so my younger brother could start chemo; he’s got leukemia.”

A look of sadness washed over Josh’s face. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” 

“It is what it is.” 

“But still, it’s shitty.” Josh stopped, and looked to be thinking hard. He sounded out his next words like he wasn’t sure if he should be speaking them aloud. “I know a thing or two about leukemia, I might be able to offer some help.”  

Rae raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about leukemia?” 

“My, uh, mom is in the medical field. She specializes in that kind of stuff. You know, blood.” 

“That’s cool,” Rae trailed off. She wasn’t quite sure what Josh was offering her, but she figured to leave it at that for the time being. She knew Morgan wouldn’t be happy that she was telling classmates about his illness; he had made it pretty clear that he wanted to have as normal of a high school experience as he could. But, then again, it seemed like a good chance to get a second opinion on how to make sure Morgan bounced back. “I mean, if it’s not out of you or your mom’s way, that would be nice.” 

“For sure,” Josh nodded. He reached into his back pocket and retrieved an older iPhone that made Rae do a double take. She hadn’t seen that generation iPhone in well over 5 years. Josh unlocked it quickly with a 6 digit passcode and went into his contacts. “Give me your number and I’ll hit you up.” 

Rae looked down at the phone, blew out a “eh, what the hell?” sigh, and grabbed it from him so she could put in her number. So maybe two weird guys who had some strange conflict between each other having her phone number wasn’t great, but what was the worst that could happen?

As she tapped her fingers over his phone screen, she saw Jake approaching them out of the corner of her eye and immediately tensed. He seemed to slow down at the sight of Rae and Josh, but then he put his head down and powered away. Rae could feel her shoulders drop in relief that Jake had chosen not to make a scene, though she still felt on edge. 

She handed Josh his phone back, and he scanned over her number to make sure that it looked legit. The minute warning bell sounded above them and Josh held up the hand that was carrying his phone in a wave to Rae. 

“I better go,” Josh excused himself, nodding back in the direction they had come from, completely oblivious to Jake’s recent presence. “I don’t want to be tardy for English on the first day. You know, I gotta make a good first impression.” 

“You could learn a thing or two about getting better at that,” Rae found the words escaping from her mouth before she could stop them. That made Josh stop but, instead of frowning, he let out a jovial laugh. 

“You’re not wrong,” he agreed, and then was on his way. Rae shook her head, still struggling to believe the strange triangle she had found herself trapped in, and stepped foot in her biology class. 

School let out at 3:45 and, even though Rae’s dad was parked out front to pick her and Morgan up, Rae opted to walk home instead. She needed some space to reflect on her day before her parents started to hound her, demanding to know how her first day went, and how many new friends she had made. Rae had to find the right way to tell them that the people she met were nice, but she had eaten lunch alone. A part of her had expected Jake to come back around to talk to her during their break, but he was nowhere to be seen. She wondered where he had been hiding. 

Rae waved goodbye to her dad and Morgan, sending them off so she could be on her own, and then trudged in the direction of their house. The humid air made her feel sluggish in her steps, and the searing sun overhead left sweat dripping down the sides of her face. Rae wiped the perspiration away with the back of her hand and made a small grunt of disapproval. She was going to enjoy a tall glass of lemonade when she got home. 

She hurried her pace at the thought of the refreshing treat, and pondered who she could befriend to distance herself from Jake and Josh. There was a girl who sat behind her in orchestra class that seemed shy, but nice. Rae made a mental note to formally introduce herself the next day and ask if they could eat together. She hoped the girl didn’t speak in codes like Jake and Josh seemed to. 

Rae was nearly to the edge of the campus and the students around her started thinning out, moving in all different directions to get to their respective homes. Rae only saw the long stretch of sidewalk ahead of her and focused on trying to pinpoint where it ended. There was no end in sight. 

“What the fuck?” she heard a voice bark to her right, which made her slow down. She hated how nosy she could be sometimes. 

Lo and behold, maybe about thirty feet away in front of the chain link fence that wrapped around the exterior of the school’s baseball diamond, Jake and Josh were standing in close confrontation. It looked like Josh had been the one to instigate things because he was hovering over Jake, his hands balled into tight fists ready to strike at any moment. In comparison, Jake’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape route. Rae was entirely stopped, gaping at the scene in front of her, but neither Jake nor Josh seemed to notice her. 

“You just showed up at her house?” Josh’s voice raised. “What were you thinking?” 

Shit, Rae thought as her stomach dropped. They’re talking about me. 

So, like any rational person would do, Rae crept closer to the two boys and ducked behind a tall oak tree to keep out of sight while listening in. 

“I wasn’t thinking, okay?” Jake pleaded, trying to get Josh to calm down. “I admit that was stupid. But she’s not talking to me anymore, so you should be happy.” 

“I don’t think you understand the magnitude of the situation,” Josh’s voice quieted, speaking through grit teeth. Rae had to lean closer to make out what was said next. “She’s speculating about us. She’s gonna find out.” 

Rae’s heart thundered in her chest. 

“She won’t,” Jake’s confidence was obviously wavering as his words raised into more of a question than a firm statement. Josh immediately picked up on this. 

“Look, I fucking hate you, and you hate me. But this is something we’ve got to work together on. The normies can’t know, that’s the agreement. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Don’t you dare bring that up,” Jake hissed. 

“I don’t know how you haven’t been thrown out of town,” Josh was off and running. “If your dad wasn’t so popular, you’d be dumped in the woods by your own kind, left to fend for yourself.”

“I know you wish that’s where I was,” Jake’s voice quaked with rage. 

Josh let out a taunting laugh. “It’s where you belong.” 

Rae peeked around the tree and saw Jake swinging his fist back, ready to make contact with Josh, who was glaring back at Jake with discontent. Jake would have slammed his fist into Josh’s nose if Sam hadn’t run up behind him and pinned his arms behind his back. Jake called out in shock at his brother’s sudden appearance and wiggled around to try and break free. Josh took a few steps back to steer clear of Jake’s flailing, and watched the two siblings wrestle with each other. 

“Sam!” Jake was out of breath. “Get off me!” 

Although he looked like a twig, Sam somehow managed to hold onto his brother tight, keeping him from tearing out of his grasp to tackle Josh. 

“Listen to me!” Sam’s voice cracked. Jake continued yelling at Sam to let him go. 

“I think I’m gonna dip,” Josh cut in, having a hard time hiding how tickled he was by the sight of Jake being held back by his kid brother. 

Sam looked over Jake’s head and pointed at Josh. “No! This concerns you too.” 

Sam’s words rocketed from his lips and shocked Josh in place. He gaped at Sam, his body stiffened into a frozen pose. Jake had grown limp in Sam’s arms, so Sam released him from his grasp and pushed him off so Jake and Josh were standing side by side, facing the young boy. 

“Someone stole Danny’s backpack from me.” 

“Fuck!” Jake exclaimed, still riled up from everything.  

“I have no clue who did it,” Sam looked between Jake and Josh. “It was in my locker, they must have taken it after lunch. But word got to the higher ups and the mayor is pinning the blame on us. He’s saying we broke the agreement.” 

“What do we have to do with it?” Josh found his voice again and jabbed a thumb into his chest. 

“Don’t you see?” Sam sounded exasperated, “They see us all as a threat. It doesn’t matter that Danny is my best friend, it doesn’t matter that the one before Danny was one of us, none of that matters. They need a scapegoat, and they’ve decided it’s us.” 

“But it’s not you guys?” Josh checked with Sam. 

“The smells in that backpack, Josh, that’s not a vampire or a werewolf.”

Rae’s head was spinning. They were all crazy, every single one of them. Nothing made any sense, and she suddenly felt a tug in her stomach that she needed to get away, and fast. 

“We have to get out of here,” Jake echoed her sentiment as his head twisted around, trying to make sure that no one unwanted was close by. He sniffed a few times, and then raised an eyebrow. 

“Rae,” his voice hardened. “Get out from there.” 

Rae’s eyes darted around in a blind panic. How the fuck?  

“Rae,” Jake repeated himself with more force. Rae slowly stepped out from behind the tree, her breath hitched in her throat. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” Jake asked, his voice still firm. Rae nodded her head, and noted that Josh was gazing on at her with sadness. “We have to go. Now,” Jake repeated himself. Rae didn’t like that he was suddenly pointing at her. “And that includes you too.” 

“No way,” Rae shook her head hard. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Josh murmured to Jake. 

“She’s a part of this now,” Jake turned to look at Josh. 

Josh shrugged like there wasn’t much to argue, and Sam looked at Jake in panic. 

“What are we gonna do?” 

“Dad’s bar,” Jake decided. “We need to hide, and I need a quiet place to sort all this shit out.”

***

Taglist: @lvnterninthenight, @writingcold, @myownparadise96, @i-choose-the-road, @psychedelicsprinkles, @mama-likes72

[anxious-witch]

Inertia 2

Summary: Newton's first law expresses the principle of inertia: the natural behavior of a body is to move in a straight line at constant speed. In the absence of outside influences, a body's motion preserves the status quo.

Jan choose a direction of his life the moment he walked out of his parents house and cut all contact with them. He didn't want anything to do with them, or God anymore. Even his soulmark he wished he could leave behind. But when Nace Jordan joins the band, with a mark matching his own, can Jan keep going the same way he did? Or will the force make him change a direction?

Pairings: Jan Peteh/Nace Jordan

Warnings: mentions of previous religious trauma, slight description of blood(a string cuts into a finger), some negarive self talk I guess?

Notes:

AO3 link

So, you guys know how there was a whole prologue chapter describing what Jan went through? Yeah, he will definitely act like an asshole in the next few chapters so be aware. As always, chapter specific warnings are in the end notes

If I missed anything, feel free to correct me!

You're a heap of flesh and guts and blood in a wax museum. The only thing real. Sickeningly real. Crimson and warm where the others are pale and cold. Revoltingly red, nauseatingly alive. You're a child in a graveyard.

-Layana Clouet, 'A Love Letter to a Dead Thing'

Once again, Jan found himself running late. Now under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have been any different from any other time he arrived at their rehearsal space late, except this time, it was actually important that he was there on time. It was the day Martin was supposed to introduce them to the bassist he recommended as his replacement.

He had to admit to himself that perhaps, on some level, he really didn't want to meet a new bassist. He didn't want Martin to leave. Replacing Matić was adjustment enough, even if Jure fit in with the band perfectly. But Martin was different, and Jan could not think of anyone who could replace the tall, lanky bassist. Martin, who could calm Bojan whenever his anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, who could help Kris with all the planning and relieve some of the pressure the younger man placed upon himself. Whom Jan considered part of his found family. And okay, Jan knew he was weird about people he considered family. He wanted to keep them close and to protect them. It was hard protecting someone and looking after them from another country.

Yet, how could he ever be mad at Martin for going after what he truly wanted and putting his education first? It was the sensible choice, one that even crossed Jan's mind several times.

He supposed that sometimes change was inevitable, whether he was ready for it or not.

Of course, there was a downpour on his way to their rehearsal space, soaking him thoroughly as he ran the short distance between the parking space and the building. In moments like these, he almost regretted having long hair. It plastered itself against his face and neck uncomfortably. It was also during times like these when he remembered his younger self crying as he was taken to the hairdresser to get his hair cut in an unfashionably “decent” style and once again, he was thankful for his long hair.

He arrived dripping wet, his boots leaving a wet trail.

"Sorry I'm late! I hope the new bassist didn't leave al-Oh."

Jan had to do a double take. On the couch sat Martin and another guy who, while he looked similar to him on the first glance, was decidedly not Martin.

The first thing Jan noticed about the stranger was his intricately tattooed arm. His short-sleeved shirt showed off his biceps. Their eyes met and the bassist smiled, and all Jan could think of for a split second was "Fuck, he’s really attractive".

He stood up and Jan noted they were about the same height, perhaps the new guy was slightly taller He extended his hand and Jan shook it, noting that it was warm and strong, with the telltale calluses on his fingers that a bassist would have. Another thing was that Nace seemed to be somewhat tense and tentative, as if he somehow felt like he didn’t quite fit in. Jan agreed with his assesment, although he couldn’t quite figure out why yet. There was just something slightly off.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Nace."

He had a thick Gorenjska accent, which Jan found oddly endearing. Before he could utter his own name, or levy any further judgment towards the man, Jan's eyes shifted towards his arms. The right one drew his attention first, due to its intricate floral tattoo sleeve. He then looked over at the left arm, noticing a few more tattoos as his eyes traveled downwards, until they reached his wrist. At this, Jan froze momentarily.

On that very same arm, on the wrist to be precise, there was a small, black guitar that looked exactly like the one Jan played. More importantly, the older man’s mark matched Jan’s soulmark in style perfectly. Like only a matching mark would.

He snapped his eyes back to meet Nace's immediately.

"Jan," he said, his voice coming off much frostier than he intended.

He saw Nace's smile fall. Jan tried not to wince as the man withdrew his hand quickly, and immediately rubbed his neck nervously. It seemed almost ridiculous that someone so big could shrink into himself in the blink of an eye and seem so…small.

"Jan! You are not going entering our space with those shoes on! And you’re dripping water all over the fucking floor!"

Kris failed to notice the tense atmosphere as he began lecturing him and Jan was glad for the reprieve. He briefly caught Martin's sharp gaze and immediately looked away.

One thing Jan missed about believing in God was being able to blame the fucker for everything. In moments such as this, all he wanted to do was to scream at the sky asking, “Why is this happening?! What did I do to deserve this?!"

He wished he believed that penance consisting of a few prayers while kneeling on a pew would absolve him of all the mistakes he had made.

And yet, those days of believing lies were long gone. All he was left with now was cold, harsh reality, and taking responsibility for his own shitty choices. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as the former, especially when his self-awareness did not always come with the ability to stop himself from doing the dumbest, most impulsive things.

Neither did he want to go back to believing lies, however.

He did want one last chance to show two middle fingers to the fucker and tell him what exactly he thought of his Gift.

Stupid tattooed bassist.

"Do you guys keep any towels here, somewhere? I can bring some for Jan."

Jan rolled his eyes. Oh, he’s trying to appear kind, too? How predictable, he thought.

"Where are Jure and Bojan?" Jan asked, ignoring Nace completely as he unlaced his boots.

Martin pulled Nace aside and pointed him towards the bathroom where they kept the towels, before squeezing his shoulder and lightly pushing him in said direction.

"Jure is driving Bojan here, but they had some bad luck on the road - a flat tire - so they'll be late. Now tell me…what on earth is your problem with Nace?”

Martin was not known to get angry often, so Jan was briefly caught by a surprise. He peered behind him to make sure that Nace had gone to the bathroom, before crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

"I don't like him, okay?"

Martin pursed his lips.

"You barely said anything to him…you didn't even hear him play! I won't let you be an asshole towards him over whatever the fuck you don't like about him based on thirty seconds of checking him out!"

Jan felt his cheeks warm.

"I wasn't-"

Bojan and Jure chose that precise moment to appear in the main doorway, saving him from further confrontation. Kris shrieked again as Bojan and Jure tried to walk into the room with shoes equally wet from the rain as Jan's.

Jan almost felt bad for Nace, who came with towels and looked slightly overwhelmed with all the chaos. He took one from the top of the pile and attempted to dry his hair. Then, he stepped out of his boots and walked over to one of the couches and sat down. Perhaps luck would find him and Nace would simply give up after seeing how messy they all were.

As if Jan was ever that lucky.

"Wait, didn't we meet before?" Bojan said, peering up at Nace.

"Um, yeah, technically..."

Jure flopped onto his lap and managed to elbow him in the face. Jan hissed in response. Then, Jure curled to his side and Jan wrapped his arm around his waist so he wouldn't fall off the couch.

"Could you at least do that without injuring me every time?"

"No," Jure said simply, before laying his head on Jan's shoulder.

Jan muttered a few choice words about an oversized orange cat under his breath, but did not push Jure off. In the meantime, Bojan seemed to be engaged in deep conversation with Nace, practically jumping up and down as he talked and Nace seemed more relaxed as well. Jan let his eyes roam as they talked, taking in the familiar space.

It was more than bit messy, as always. Cables and wires everywhere, random belongings strewn here and there. Some of Bojan’s fancy hair products were lying around, along with Jure’s body spray and some of Jan’s hair ties (which he seemed to keep losing, no matter how many he bought), while Kris’ notebooks and schedules were put away neatly to the side.

Then, it hit him. He realized why Nace looked so off. Jan eyed him again. He wore a simple beige sweater, with black trousers, a long brown raincoat draped over his arm. All nondescript styles and muted colors. The space they were in was full of color and they all had tendency to wear a lot of colors or distinctive, eye-catching styles. Even Kris, for all his rules, loved to wear interesting sweaters in various lively colors.

But not Nace.

"So, you know some of our songs?" Bojan asked, gesticulating widely. Kris shook his head, but Jan noticed a small, fond smile on his face. Jan wondered if he would ever get over his feelings for Bojan.

A small, nagging voice that sounded a lot like his father’s whispered that this was the destiny of one who was without a soul. Forever to be in love with someone else who already had a soulmate. That soulmate would always come first, even if Bojan still didn't know his.

Jan pushed the voice away. No. Kris simply had the bad luck of crushing on a straight guy, that was all. He would get over it, sooner or later.

"I do know how to play a few, yeah. After Martin told me about this, I also squeezed in a little practice of my own."

Perhaps today was Jan’s lucky day. Nace sounded nervous, and a lack of confidence would clearly come across in one’s playing. It was not that Jan thought anyone could ever perfectly replace Martin, but perhaps there was a way to not have Nace join the band, without Jan coming across as an asshole. Then, he could live the rest of his life as planned, with no soulmate to worry about.

"Perhaps we could play one. See how you'd fit in."

Everyone turned towards him upon hearing the suggestion. Bojan and Jure only mildly curious, as they had not witnessed the previous argument. Martin, unsurprisingly, looked suspicious and Kris was very confused.

It was Nace's nervous, but slightly hopeful look that caught him off guard. The brunet man gave a shy, hesitant smile that was very much at odds with his handsome features. He had no idea Jan was trying to get rid of him, and thought that Jan was actually giving him a chance.

It made Jan feel bad. Almost bad enough to apologize. Almost.

"That’s what I brought him here for. I just thought he could…you know…get to know everyone first," Martin said carefully.

Jan shrugged, trying to casually play it off.

"I mean, yeah. But we can always get to know him after if we are a good fit, no? There is no point wasting his and our time if it won't work, is there?"

Almost immediately after he uttered those words, he felt the atmosphere around them change, as if the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Even Jure went awfully still next to him. Bojan quieted down in a manner that he only did when he found himself in a very uncomfortable situation.

As for Nace on the other hand, for the first time since Jan saw him, the older man looked angry. He clenched his jaw subtly and narrowed his eyes. He looked straight at Jan. For one long second, nobody dared to say a single word. Jan stared back, refusing to break eye contact and yield.

"You’re right. I wouldn't want to waste anyone's time. How about we play…Plastika?"

Well, someone wanted very badly to show off, that was for sure. Jan did his best not to smirk, schooling his face into a neutral expression.

"Be my guest. If everyone else agrees, that is."

Only then did he break eye contact and looked at his other band members. Bojan nervously chewed on his bottom lip, while Kris’ and Martin’s expressions darkened considerably. Jure cleared his throat and spoke up first, startling him a bit.

"I mean, I'm all for it. If Martin recommended you, I think you'll do great."

Nace looked at Jure and...did he just blush at that? Jan felt the urge to roll his eyes until they reached the back of his head, all the more determined to prove them wrong. He tapped his fingers against his thigh and remembered how his finger had a cut since yesterday. One he didn’t bother to wrap up. Shit.

He could play one song without it reopening. Probably.

Jure's words seemed to have shaken the rest out of their respective states, because they all agreed almost immediately, all while shooting him angry (Kris and Martin) and confused (Bojan) stares.

With that settled, they tuned their instruments and checked whether everything worked as it should, before they opened the song.

"Nisi si všeč če si za modifikacijo

Trenutek je popoln za operacijo

Filter mi ne dela, ko se gledam v ogledalu

Koža ni več sveža in sivijo mi lasje

Pa triindvajset jih mam šele."

Fuck. Nace was good. No, not just good – he was amazing. Jan could not help but sneak glances at him while he played. He was petty enough to not want to admit that Nace was as good as, or even better than Martin. The way he worked those strings was almost unearthly.

Nace caught his stare and for a moment, the world closed in around two of them. Usually, whenever Jan played, everything but him and the music faded. But this time, he was no longer alone with the music - Nace was with him, somehow. In a space that was meant to be only his.

Jan's finger caught on a string, right where the tiny cut was. Of course, the wound promptly ripped open and began bleeding once more.

"Fuck!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Goddamn it. He immediately put the finger in his mouth to stop the bleeding and put the guitar down.

"Jan-" Kris began, but Jan cut him off.

"I'm fine, I'll just get a band-aid. Not like I’m fatally bleeding."

He set his guitar down and then stormed towards the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and allowed cold water to pour over the cut. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't get distracted like that.

And fine - Nace might be very attractive, but Jan met plenty of attractive men. Never in his life had he fucked up like this because of any of them, however. When the bleeding finally slowed, he reached for the box of band-aids and tried to pry one open without bleeding all over it. His fingers kept slipping.

"Do you need any help with that?"

Jan stood straight up at the sudden interruption, then looked over his shoulder. Nace was leaning against the doorway, his gaze no longer shy nor tentative this time. If anything, he seemed to be attempting to take a peek into the depths of Jan's very soul.

"No."

His attention returned to the band-aid, as he attempted to unwrap it once more. His fingers slipped yet again, and he swore when the bleeding from his cut resumed.

"Jesus, Jan just-…turn down the asshole level for thirty damn seconds and let me help you!"

He snatched the band-aid from Jan and carefully unwrapped it. Jan tried and failed not to stare at his hands while he did so. Sturdy hands, with thick, strong fingers.

Nace wrapped the band-aid over the cut surprisingly lightly and gently. His soft touch did not match how sturdy his hands looked for sure. Jan tried not to glare.

"Thanks or whatever."

Nace sighed.

"Look, I really don't know what’s your beef with me, but either you tell me, or act like the adult you are and keep it to yourself."

A chuckle escaped Jan’s lips before he could press them together. Nace's lips twisted in a slight smile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We can go back now."

Then he pushed past him and stalked back to the studio, with Nace right behind him. He heard the last bit of a conversation Bojan was presumably having with the others, right before he fully stepped in.

"-someone needs to tell him to chill."

Jan cleared his throat, making Bojan jump with surprise. He looked away guiltily, which was confirmation enough that they were talking about him.

"I think we heard enough from Nace. He’s phenomenal, and I’m very much for him joining," Kris eyed Jan carefully, "at least for the time being, I don't see why there should be any issues. We can all get to know him in due time."

He didn't like the way Kris looked at him. Did he know?

"I agree," Bojan said quickly.

"Me too," Jure added, bobbing his head.

Martin shrugged.

"I recommended him. Of course, I agree."

This was a trap, wasn't it? They all turned to look at him. It was true they made all of their decisions together, but they also were not above telling someone when they crossed the line. In this case, Jan heard it were loud and clear.

He lost.

"Yeah, fine. Alright."

Everyone seemed to exhale a sigh of relief. Bojan grinned brightly at Nace, and spread his arms out.

"Welcome to the band!"

In that moment, Jan really should have already realized he was done for.

—-------------------------------------

"So, what you’re saying is that you want me to drive you home, and then you want me to stay so you can give me a long-ass lecture on manners."

Kris rolled his turquoise eyes.

"I’m inviting you over so we can talk. Who said anything about lecturing?"

Jan glared at Kris, but the younger man seemed unbothered. He leaned on Jan’s car, crossing his long legs as he casually waited for Jan to agree. The dark-haired man sighed and twiddled with his nose ring a couple of times before he unlocked the car and eased himself into the driver’s seat, while Kris rode shotgun and made himself comfortable, laying his head back against the seat. Jan often wondered how Kris, with all his long limbs, managed to even fit let alone get comfortable in the car.

He started the car and began driving. After a few minutes passed, Kris began to tap his fingers against his seat. Now, Kris would usually shuffle through the radio stations by this time, but today, he seemed to be content letting the silence stretch out.

Goddamn Kris to hell, he knew how much he hated small talk. But talking about the elephant in the room sounded even worse.

"So. How come you didn't drive today?"

Kris played with a strand of his hair – he was finally letting it grow out a little more, almost long enough to touch the base of his neck. Jan hoped that meant he was slowly gaining his confidence back.

"My therapist said I could try some...exposure therapy with environments that are somewhat out of my control. Like public transport for instance."

Jan winced. He did not want to imagine how stressful that must have been for his friend. He made an affirmative hum. Pressing Kris about it further could upset him or stress him out more.

After another few moments of awkward silence, Kris finally spoke up.

"Nace is your soulmate, isn't he?"

Jan hit the brakes just a bit too hard as they approached a red light. Kris didn’t comment, but Jan saw the way he pursed his lips, and he knew that Kris was not impressed, both by his non-answer and by his disregard for road safety.

"Maybe you should just talk to him."

Jan glared at him before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Absolutely not."

Kris sighed as he sunk deeper into his seat.

"I’m just saying. I know you’ve said time and time again that you don't want a soulmate, but...you could at least give it a shot. Some of us will never get that chance."

Jan felt his stomach drop to his feet. Fuck. He forgot how personal this could get for Kris, who did not have a soulmate…how he might view it as Jan throwing away something he was dying to have.

He supposed that being honest to Kris was the least he could do.

"You know it's not like that. I just...I can't, okay? I feel sick just thinking about anything related to soulmates."

It was true. Simply thinking about the possibility of telling Nace that their marks matched made him nauseous.

"I’m not saying you have to ride off with him in the sunset or fall into his arms or whatever. But…talk to him, at least. It’s basic decency. I mean, Jure's soulmate is his best friend. He said he couldn't imagine dating her, but she’s still very special to him."

Jan grimaced. Jure’s case was uncommon, and one that was certainly fascinating, but that did not mean Jan would feel safe taking his chances. The second he involved the other person to keep their end of the deal, problems would inevitably follow.

"I don't want him to be special. You guys are special to me. You’re my family now, and have been for years. Why does he deserve to be special just because we share some stupid mark on our skin?"

"Jan..."

Kris voice wavered the way it always did when he wanted to comfort him. Jan parked the car before turning to face him again.

"Don't make me tell him. I don't-I can't do it."

Kris swept him into a tight hug, as awkward as it was in their current positions. He comfortingly rubbed Jan's back. Jan wondered why he even used to believe angels were real, when Kris Guštin was real and right there.

"Okay, okay, I won't. Just...try to at least be civil towards him, please? He is an amazing bass player and he seems really nice."

Jan sighed. He didn't answer for a few moments, simply letting Kris's sweater-clad hug steady him.

"Alright. I’ll try my best. But don't expect me to become his best friend or anything."

Kris chuckled as he ruffled Jan’s hair.

"I would never."

They stayed like that for about a minute longer before Kris drew back. Jan took a deep breath, his heart feeling lighter than it was a while ago.

"Want to come in? I have coffee. And tea. And hot chocolate."

Jan snorted.

"As if anyone but you and Bojan drinks hot chocolate."

"Rude."

Jan grinned cheekily at him before exiting the car. A rare grin, that he saved for the ones he held close and trusted. He took a deep breath of the chilly, crisp autumn air. He could get through the whole soulmate drama, as long as he had his friends – his family - with him.

Nace could be his fated soulmate for all he liked, but Jan never liked to follow the rules or do as he was told anyway.

He followed after Kris into the apartment and as Kris prepared their drinks, checked his Instagram. There was an unread message request from someone he didn't follow.

When he read the username, he froze. It was his father. His thumb hovered over the unread message and knots of fear began to form in his stomach, accompanied by a slowly growing, burning anger.

He swiftly deleted the message without reading it and locked his phone, tossing it aside. His heart was still beating several hundred times a minute when Kris returned, carrying two steaming mugs. Jan did his best to smile as he wrapped his hands around the hot mug that was offered to him. As his anger dissipated, he suddenly felt very, very cold.

It was a common saying that bad things always came in threes, but if these were the first two...Jan certainly did not want to know what the third one would be.

He took a long sip of the tea and tried to push it all away.

Lies, deceit, his father, the concept of a soulmate...he left all those things behind years ago, and he refused to let them ruin the family he found in his time of need.

And he would do anything to hold on to them, no matter the cost. Not even a so-called soulmate would stand in his way.

[crimsonredfeathers]

Leaving

~*~ Chapter 2 ~*~

Hawks x fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: This is an ongoing series for now that will probably include fluff, angst, and smut at a later point. Reader is a few years older than Hawks.

Prologue * Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5 * Chapter 6 * Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10

🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤

🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤

You had a few days left before your employment at the agency started and did your best to settle into your new home. The TV blared in the background while you put your clothes away, a breaking news report stopping you in your tracks. "And here we see some CCTV footage of our newcomer Hawks taking down the bank robber," you heard the male newsreporter say. You took a few steps back, so you could peek through the open door that led to your living room, the screen of your TV appearing in your line of view. You watched the somewhat grainy video of a random security camera that had caught Hawks' movements. Fast and precise, he took the robber down, his face stoic in concentration for a moment, before his features softened again once he had that guy pinned down to the ground with a few of his feathers. He had just gracefully landed next to the criminal when the police officers that had been on standby close to the scene came running to make the arrest. The hero's feathers retracted and reconnected with his wings. It was intriguing to see him work, to say the least.

~*~

You woke up an hour early with a feeling of excitement deep inside of you. Today would be the first day at the agency, and you really couldn't wait to meet everybody and get to know them. You just hoped that you'd all get along and you'd be able to support the young pro hero and his sidekicks to the best of your abilities. For them to be able to do their jobs properly would be your responsibility to an extent from here on out.

You completed your chores, took a shower, got dressed and ready, drank a cup of coffee while checking the news, and finally packed your lunch. Closing and locking the door of your apartment behind you, you took a moment to rest your arms on the railing of the outdoor hallway and appreciated the sight in front of you. It was such a nice day, the sky was clear and the sun was shining. You looked down to watch the city come to life as people were getting ready to commute to work and school, entering the train station. An older man across the street left the doors of his shop open to let some fresh air in while preparing everything for the day. A smile tugged on your lips as you thought about the hard-working heroes that protected all of what was in front of you.

~*~

Only 15 minutes later, you arrived at the building the agency was located in. You wished the lady at the front desk a good morning and got into the elevator, traveling up to the top floor once again. The doors opened to reveal your boss and colleagues who were happily chatting away. "Good morning, everyone!" You shot the guys a polite smile.

"Good morning, early bird," Hawks greeted before the others even had a chance to say anything. "Slept well? Ready for your first day?" A smile was plastered on his face, as he introduced you to his sidekicks, so you could memorize their names and quirks. He took it upon himself to show you around the agency. Hawks concluded the albeit short tour by leading you to your desk. You groaned internally as you saw the stacks of papers everyone seemed to have collected just for the day you finally started working at the agency. He pointed over to a door along the hallway that was closest to your little office area. "And this is my office," he stated, right as the phone on your desk went off. "Looks like you have your first call coming in." He waved goodbye to you as he opened the door to his office and left you to your work.

Your previous experiences in the field helped you greatly throughout the day. Once you'd ended the call with the reporter that was eager to score an exclusive interview with the newly debuted hero, you started your work with your daily routine, that included checking letters and emails for urgent matters. You answered a few more phone calls, making sure that emergencies got handled by Hawks and the others right away. Lunch time rolled around much faster than you'd anticipated. Eating the contents of your bento box, you were happy about not being completely alone in the agency. At least one of the sidekicks was back from his duties, and over lunch, you got to know him a little better.

The rest of the day was mostly spent by organizing the mess of papers on your desk. You tried to classify whatever got your way and realized pretty soon that this office had neither binders nor enough paper clips available. You made a list of all the things that you'd need for your work in the upcoming days.

~*~

You should have been headed home nearly an hour ago, but paperwork had kept you busy when a flapping noise coming from Hawks' office distracted you. The door flung open, and your boss came into view. "I just hope they didn't drink all the coffee, I really -" The young hero looked at you, a little confused. "Weren't you supposed to leave like an hour ago?"

You laughed, biting down a comment on how he and everyone else had been collecting paperwork for weeks without even looking at the letters and emails that had been coming in. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes. Could you please check this list I made? I need your approval on the things I purchase and -"

"You're welcome to buy whatever you need to do your job. I might be the pro hero here, but you're my pro secretary. I trust your decisions." And with that, he went over to the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and adding an amount of sugar that made you feel nauseous from the sheer sight. Shaking your head, you shut down the PC and grabbed your purse. "Thanks, Hawks, I'll see you tomorrow," you went over to the elevator. "Good night, y/n," he smiled between two sips of coffee.

~*~

It took you much longer than you'd anticipated, but eventually, all the paperwork was organized into different binders. Incomplete reports were finished and sent out to the police and HPSC. The agency's emails were taken care of, and you'd placed several stackable desk organizers on a sideboard so everyone could grab their letters and notes conveniently. For a while, you simply did your job, got to know the different people inside and outside of the agency that you worked with on a regular basis, and - no matter how cheeky or what a tease he was - actually really enjoyed working for the charming young hero.

🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤

Taglist: @claratakami @chrisrue15

[rkivesbby]

Fire with Fire [01]

elite alpha bts kim line x elite omega named reader

The Han Clan's power and distinction has long been deteriorating after decades of being unable to produce a true rare-breed omega. This changes as Han So, rare as you are, presents as a true omega. However, your fate has already been predestined— to infiltrate and destroy the domineering Kim Clan and their true rare-breed alphas.

Will you be able to fulfill your purpose?

Will you be able to keep up with your lies, deceit, and trickery, or will your walls start breaking down?

(angst / smut)

AN: this was not proofread 🥲 will do soon tho hope you enjoy! THIS HAS A PROLOGUE, please read that first 💟

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Chapter 1

You enter the room with elegance and grace that expected of an omega— with lightness in your steps, a welcoming aura, and a hint of a smile plastered across your face. You didn't miss the turning of heads as soon as you stepped into the room, even before your name was called out to be presented before the Kim Clan's leaders.

"Miss Han So of the Han Clan!" declared loudly by the escort. You can feel more heads turning towards you and a deafening silence with a mix of whispers settled into the room. You bowed in front of the podium and smirked as your head was down, relishing the attention.

"Miss Han, you came!" bellowed Kim Yul as she hurried towards you with arms wide open. She seemed genuinely happy of your arrival, you noted. "What a surprise Miss Han. I'm glad you accepted our invitation, we were really looking forward to finally formally introducing the true omega to the true alphas of our clan", said Kim Hwan with pride.

"Of course, everyone here knows how the Kim alphas and Han omegas have long been matched together. Of course including those of our omegas forcefully claimed by your men in the past", you said with fake lightness. Fuck, this early and you were already throwing snide remarks. Well, it's probably good to make them remember what they did and show that you are a different omega as early as now. You maintain your posture and laugh to stand your ground in the midst of their apparent discomfort.

"Yes, a thing of the past decades if you may. What's important is that we have here countless alphas of your liking, and of course our true alphas, our three sons." As expected, this man would never apologize. Well, you're not here for apology, but revenge. Doesn't really matter.

You smiled as you took Kim Hwan's arm as he guides you through the ball. "As much as I am delighted to be meeting your sons Mr. Kim, you do not need to worry and guide me through it all. I'd like to take my time meeting them through my own efforts. For now, let me explore your party and estate first. Thank you again for your invitation", you said sternly with a smile never leaving your face. They seemed very eager to marry you off one of their sons as soon as possible, as if they didn't abandon your clan when there were no true omegas being produced.

"Well then, we'll leave you to it. Enjoy the rest of the party, Miss Han. You're truly something else." said Miss Kim Yul as she hugged me for the second time. "My parents are coming in a while, too. It's best if you check up on them next." You reply to both of the older Kims.

Though you are well aware of the purpose of your arrival to this ball, you weren't sure if you should work too hard or get to it immediately. There's a part of you that wants to slightly rebel against your parents wishes and get away from the clan feud for a few moments, which is why you decide to postpone meeting the Kim alphas. Instead, you go straight to the bar and fill yourself with alcohol, the recent subject of your oral fixation.

You downed a number of tequila shots in a short period of time, causing you to feel woozy and hot. You only felt the effects as soon as you stood up, losing your sense of balance. 'What a freaking shit show of a party', you thought, as no one at all tried to flirt with you the whole time you were at the bar. It didn't even feel like you were the only omega at a party full of alphas.

You made your way to the dance floor spotting the oldest Kim alpha whispering something on a woman's ear behind her back, holding her waist. 'This asshole, didn't he know I was coming to this stupid party? Why the fuck is he flirting with this woman I can't even smell any pheromones on?', you thought to yourself, scoffing.

Kim Seokjin is one of the three true alphas you were most acquainted to, more than you'd like. Before you presented as an omega, he and you could have even been labeled as best friends, attached to the hip at school, though he was a few years your senior. He would often bring you to his home and boast about your friendship to his brothers, playing with you across the Kim estate. His family did not think much of the friendship, while you had to keep it a secret from your parents. You regarded the friendship as something precious to you, not to be tainted by your parents' hate towards the Kims.

However, things took a turn as soon as you presented as an omega. Your parents started seeing your value, becoming much more visible and valuable to the clan. You weren't sure if this was a good thing or not— formerly invisible but with freedom, now recognized but restricted. As you expected, your friendship with Seokjin took the biggest blow, almost immediately. You were sure you were not to continue the friendship while plotting his clan's downfall. He found you slowly becoming out of his reach, while still being able to see you change before his eyes. The good and innocent Han So was slowly becoming provocative and coy. You couldn't forget the words he uttered to you one night out of frustration.

"What the fuck, So? What the fuck is all of this? You disappear from my life 'cause you'd rather fuck all these low-leveled petty alphas?" He says with gritted teeth, his large veiny hands seizing your frail hands violently with no hint of remorse. "Get the fuck away from me, Jin", you say, freeing your hands away from him. "Just tell me if you want me to fuck you next." You add, scoffing. "Fuck me next? Are you fucking kidding me? I should have trusted my brothers, you're nothing different from all those slutty Han omegas." This he says with a resigned but certain tone. These words, no matter how much you try to dismiss them, shake you to the core. Not because you were hurt by the implication, but because you realize your parents were right. Kim alphas will remain imperious and egotistic, seeing omegas as nothing but objects to give them pleasure. Even Kim Seokjin, your best friend. 'Not anymore', you thought.

You try to come back to your senses as you try to see clearly just who Seokjin is fondling right in front of you. You squint your eyes to get a better view of your ex best friend being the one thing he disgustingly told you you were. 'You're just a slut like me, Kim Seokjin. Being an alpha doesn't make you any different.' You thought to yourself, pressing your lips together, displeased at the sight.

However, you decide to play the role of the cunning and slutty omega he claims you are. You grab a glass of champagne from the waiter and spill all of it all over yourself, stumbling in your steps to make it look like an accident. Now his attention was most likely on you, even if you purposely weren't checking to see. You then grab the nearest man you could get ahold of and place both of your arms on his shoulders, intertwining the fingers of your hands on the back of his neck.

"Hi there, alpha. Can you help me with my tiny little accident? I'm all wet." You say sensuously, but just loud enough for the people near you to hear, fluttering your eyes. The man was taken aback but quickly smirked, realizing he can take advantage of this. Giving all his attention to you, he held your waist and inhaled your scent in. 'This motherfucker's lucky, thank heavens he happens to be fucking hot too.' You think as he looks away to find some tissue of some sort. "No, alpha. Just clean me up with your hands. Touch me." You say, while going through the tangles at the back of his hair using your fingers. You hiked up the slit of your dress, showing even more of your thighs, reaching a very dangerous part of your body. He relished and smirked at the and says "My pleasure, omega." As he too roams his hands all over your body.

With this, you finally looked up to check Seokjin's eyes on you. 'Bingo', you thought as his full attention was yours, his eyes roaming around your body, following wherever the hands of the man in front of you touches. You reached for his left hand, places it closer to your face and licks it. "We should never waste this lovely champagne, shouldn't we?" You say, eyes still locked not with the man you're tasting, but with Seokjin's. You feel him lick the side of your neck and you shudder at the sensation. 'Man, this man's good.' you think closing your eyes, but quickly opening them again to look at the beautiful stranger in front of you. "Let's take this somewhere else, I'd like to clean you up a little more thoroughly", says the impatient man, eager but with poise. You smirk as you follow him wherever he might lead you to.

'This dickhead', you thought, as you were alone with a stranger in the Kims' one of many bathrooms. 'Why isn't he coming? Is who he's with his girlfriend or something?' you thought as the stranger's hands were all over you. You realize he has a distinct scent from the others now that you two were alone. He smells of wood sage, fresh rain, and sea salt. You melt into his scent as he carries your legs and sits you on the sink. "Strip." You command while smiling, as you spread your legs wide open. You lick your fingers, put your thong to side and touch yourself. His eyes turned dangerous with your actions and removes his coat and unbuttons his pants. He then proceeded to touch himself as he relishes at the sight of you. "You're such a fucking tease, Miss Han So. Just how I like it." He says, with a voice so honey deep you want to hear it scream your name and compel you to submission. You then stop touching yourself and proceed to kissing him on the mouth with roughness and a sense of urgency. You can feel his lips turn to a smirk as he mutters under his breath, "You're one feisty omega, you might just be made for me."

He returns your sense of urgency and climbs up to the sink to climb on top of you. As he attacks your mouth leaving you breathless, he grinds his cock to your pussy. You wince at this teasing, wanting it immediately inside of you. "Alpha, please. Fuck me now, put it inside me", you beg as he continues grinding. He smiles and looks at your face as you beg, taking in the moment. "Of course I will, my needy omega", he says as he touches his cock and rubs the tip onto your clit. You wince at the teasing again. "But not so fast, as much as I'd like to put my cum all over your face, I get off on you begging for my cock just as much." He says, continuing his actions. You almost cry at the sensation and arch your back and push your hips forward. You need some sense of friction and you're going to get it. "Fuck, alpha. I need your big cock please. It's the only thing I need, please put it inside. I'll be a good omega." You plead again, throwing all decency and pride out the window. His face lights up again at this, "I thought you were supposed to be a different omega, Miss Han? Doesn't look like it now, huh? You think you can tease me in front of my clan without you begging in the end?" He says, you not registering the words completely as you keep moaning. You slip off the strap of your dress to reveal your breasts and grab his right hand to guide them to your breasts. He knew what to do from that point on and massaged them while still grinding on you. You then reached for his cock and massaged it as you see the look of pleasure in his face.

Before you can put his cock and all its glory inside you, the door suddenly busted open signaling an intruder. Both of you, however, didn't mind and went about your business, not wanting the moment to end. However a very loud and firm voice vibrated in the room. You looked at the source of the voice and saw a very angry-looking Seokjin. 'Gotcha', you thought again. But now, you weren't so sure if you liked having him look for you and claim you or hated him for stopping this one hell of a good time with your stranger.

"I said stop this, Kim Taehyung." Seokjin says again, as he pulls the man on top of you and throws his coat over your exposed body.

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[gatefleet]

What's Past is not Prologue.

Crossing Lines: Sebastian Berger, Carlton Hickman

WordCount: 1906

T(W): Past Trauma, Alcohol, Toxins (Any missed let me know)

Request: No

A/N: Potentially a long-shot. The German puppy does not get enough love, and the American disaster needs something positive. Taglist open.

Part 2

When you looked up, the last person you were expecting to see was the elder man, Detective Carlton Hickman, he hovered in front of you and gestured towards the empty chair across from you. You nodded and looked to him, turning so you were fully facing him and placed your elbows on the table. “Didn’t expect to see you again. Did you get him?” You could barely look Hickman in the eyes and turned your attention to the drink you had been nursing. Hickman gestured to the bartender for a drink for himself and offered you a refill which you declined.

“Not yet, kid, but I’m close” Hickman gave you his full attention after ensuring the bartender had the order. You bit your lip and looked down nodding numbly. “I promise you kid, I’m not giving up on this.” You looked up as Hickman’s drink arrived.

“How’s the hand?” You asked as you pointed toward the gloved hand while putting your glass to your lips, “and why are you here if it isn’t to have me as a court witness?” Hickman took a sip of his drink, thinking hard about how to phrase his next query carefully.

“Good and bad days, off the morphine now,” he laughed slightly at that to try and ease the tension. You gave him a smile. “No, no court cases for you to translate or be witness to today, but I may have a job offer. If you’re interested, that is.” You looked at him curiously.

“What’s the offer?”

You walked into the basement of the Hague’s International Criminal Court (ICC) behind Hickman, a rucksack on your back, headphones in, Hickman pointed to an empty chair in front of a computer, and you began to put your bag down. The brunette short haired male had watched you enter from the elevator and had grabbed the attention of the redhead he was in the kitchen with. Hickman tapped your shoulder and led you toward an office in the back, you followed removing your headphones as you went. You were introduced to Major Louis Daniel and the brunette and redhead in the kitchen had been joined by another 2 people.

The Major shook your hand and asked you to take a seat. You and Hickman both sat down, and Major Daniel explained why he had sent Hickman to recruit you to the team, your ability to speak multiple languages was viewed as an asset to the team. You listened to both Hickman and Louis before reaching a decision. You were then introduced to the man that had gotten the team together in the first place, Inspector Michel Dorn. You spoke with Dorn for a few minutes, and he asked if you would accept the position, when you said that you were willing to accept on a trial basis (you were never one for staying with one agency too long) he smiled at you and handed you a badge.

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

When you left the office to join the main room you stopped in your tracks when you were faced by a gang of 4 individuals staring at you from different points in the room. “Something I can help y’all with? A picture, perhaps?” You took the seat Hickman had gestured for you to take when you first entered and sat back in the chair in a way that everyone was within sight, even your peripherals. The brunette was the first to speak.

“And, just who are you supposed to be?” His Irish accent strong as he crossed his arms and stared you down, you mimicked his actions and opened your mouth to respond when Hickman’s voice interrupted, “ah, good, you guys have met, Team meet, Detective Y/L/N – liaison with FBI’s Red Cell Behavioural Analysis Unit. Detective, meet the team, the huffy looking one is Detective Tommy McConnel – Northern Irish Police, the one next to him is Sergeant Eva Vittoria – Italian sector of Europol, Detective Sebastian Berger is from Berlin Police and finally Detective Anne-Marie San from the French National Police.” Hickman had pointed at the last two, you nodded and looked to each.

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

You and Sebastian had ended up sticking to the computer lab, it felt bigger, brighter and more comforting for you than the dullness of the main area. You tended to try to keep up with current events in the news and try to refine the search algorithms for patterns in European criminal databases that may be of interest to your team. Sebastian was obsessing over his Scan-Gen files, particularly trying to extend the reach of the scanners capabilities.

You had all been called out for a poisoning of a socialite. You were about to breach an abandoned building that you had discovered your unsubs were using to hold until their next job. The team caught two perps and had them separated, one with a gunshot wound in his leg. Neither were particularly talkative. Hickman had taken a call from Louis and you followed stopping halfway between where Hickman stopped and where Tommy was still with the perp. You overheard something about a Russian and used that to return to Tommy. When Hickman mentioned ‘The Russian’, you decided to use your talents and put on a very convincing Russian accent, “Tell us comrade, who do you think sent us?” Tommy recovered quickly and hinted that the female they were working with was out of control. The guy you had mentioned a gala.

“You know? I really hate dresses.” You fidgeted awkwardly with the bottom of your dress, ensuring you were adequately covered. Eva looked comfortable and was adjusting her com, you vaguely caught Sebastian giving you a passing compliment in hopes of easing your concern over the dress and you awkwardly exited the van while Eva appeared to do it flawlessly. You both wandered the venue as caterers, keeping your eyes on the host and those who interacted with her, as well as keeping an ear out for the plutonium detector going off. You both had negative results and your feet were starting to ache in the ridiculous heels you were to wear for this op. Eva asked the guys to turn off her comms to allow her to go to the loo. You kept watch on the party and fidgeted with the bottom of your dress again. You heard Eva’s counter go off and manoeuvred to cover the loo exit while kicking off your heels to make walking easier. It wasn’t long before the lads had entered, and you all had the suspect surrounded. You were all in shock when she ingested the toxin herself and then fell in Eva’s arms. You were all being seen by hazmat and poison control officers, you and Eva had blankets wrapped around your shoulders due to the lack of clothing and Sebastian surrendered his jacket to you. You cautiously accepted while Tommy offered his to Eva.

You had all returned to the office, you still had Sebastians jacket on and were carrying your heels in one hand. Once you had gotten back you went to the loo to change back into some warmer clothes. When you came out most of the team had left already, Sebastian had retreated to the computer lab and Eva was writing up her report. You checked in to see if Eva needed anything from you before you headed out, opting to do paperwork in the morning, she declined and smiled at you, wishing you a good night. You dropped into Sebastian next to see if he needed anything before you headed out, he smiled at you and you faltered, “well, I would like to see my jacket back before you leave.” You blushed and apologised heading back to your desk to grab his jacket and returning with it a minute later. Sebastian just laughed and mentioned that he was glad it helped fight the cold for you. You thanked him again and left his jacket on the table in the centre of the room, after confirming that there was nothing else you could do for him, you bid him goodnight and left.

It wasn’t until you had returned home that you realised your phone was missing. You spent over an hour hunting for it in your apartment and your bag from work. You sighed defeated and accepting that you had lost the thing, you set an alarm on the digital clock you had and told yourself that you would try and source a new one in the morning.

When you awoke the next day to the sound of your alarm you instinctively looked for your phone, then remembered that you had misplaced it the previous day. You went through your usual morning routine and went to the spot you and Eva had arranged to meet for a carpool to work. When Eva arrived, you got in the front seat, and she began to ask you about why you hadn’t responded to her messages that morning. Once you explained she agreed to help you search the office in case you had left your phone there.

Once you arrived in the office, you asked the desk if the cleaners had found your phone and handed it in, they said that no one had found your phone. You and Eva shrugged and headed down to the office to do another search. You were both surprised to find Sebastian already there and in his computer lab. Eva began to sweep the main office while you checked the computer room. You found Sebastian leaning over his laptop working on something, you began to look over the desks and inside drawers. It took Sebastian a couple of minutes to realise you were there and when he looked up and saw you searching the room. He watched you amused for a minute or two before clearing his throat. You jumped slightly at the sudden noise and placed your hair out of your face. He smiled at you and held up his hand, it took you a couple of seconds to realise he was holding a black square in it. “Looking for this, Detective?” You could see the amusement in the German’s eyes as he spoke and waved the hand back and forth. You breathed a sigh of relief, “Sebastian, I could kiss you right now! Where did you find it? I’ve been looking everywhere for that.” You moved towards him hand outreached for your phone when he moved it slightly out of reach, a glint of mischief building in his eyes. You stopped moving towards him, your arm faltering, and put your weight on your back foot. This seemed to make Sebastian falter from his plan, and he placed your phone on the table for you to pick up, “I found it in my jacket pocket as I was leaving last night.” He turned his attention back to his laptop, but his curiosity about you was fully piqued now, you could hear him typing on his laptop as you walked out of the room.

You walked back into the main office space waving your phone for Eva to see, she smiled at you, “Ah good, you found it. Where was it?” She walked toward you. You gestured toward the computer lab, “apparently I left it in Sebastian’s jacket after the case yesterday,” you shrugged and sat at your computer plugging your phone in to charge, and began writing up your case notes for your report.

(GIF Credit to the owner)

[gamergirlshelby]

Alright I just finished Chapter 1 of Rejuvenation 13.5 and I have many thoughts I want to ramble about.

I want to note that I have done 100% playthrough of version 13.0 a few months after it had initially released, so although my memory is a bit rusty, I will be talking a bit about some of the changes between the versions (i want to note that they're all positive imo)

Also should note that be wary of spoilers for new content for 13.5 as well as spoilers for story stuff since I want to talk about how good the writing in this game is. I've taken a lot of screenshots and will be adding them when i think they fit in my little rambles and stuff.

Without further ado my ramblings are under the read more!

To start things off I wanna just gloss over the beginning scene with Maria and the prologue on the SS Oceana. From what I can remember nothing really changed between those two sections but honestly I think they are as close to perfect if not as perfect as they can be. They give just the right amount of information to set up some of the first main mysteries and plot threads, and I think they do amazingly at setting the tone for the game.

Next I want to talk about how East Gearen has changed, having made some small adjustments to the city to help make traveling through it all the more easier. I'm happy that the changes were minimal enough that walking through the city I still knew where everything was, so everything felt familiar but it had been different enough where seeing everything game me the same sort of wonder and comfort that it had in my first playthroughs.

I think the biggest changes being to the designs for the Gearen lab and the Gearen Help Center (I haven't made it to Sheridan yet so I'm not sure if all of the help centers have been changed to be the same sort of layout, or if they all have a unique sort of look to them). The only change I'm not the biggest fan of is the starters all being lined up in rows as shown above. It definitely makes choosing the starter easier since they're all in one space, but having them all in their own little enclosures had this quaint sort of feeling to it. Still I do think that it was a good change overall, it just doesn't pander to me specifically.

Next change that I want to point out is the ability to take on quests right when you see the npc and not needing to go to the help center. Overall I think everything about quests has been changed to be much easier and more streamlined. The little quest notification does a lot in making finding the details for quests and even just finding quests a lot easier. Overall I'm a big fan.

I also adore the additions of finding some relevant story npcs out in the world outside of big story events and areas. It just adds so much to the world and helps make the world feel more alive, like its really worth saving. Whether its just small dialogue that doesn't impact anything, a conversation that can build up on your relationships with characters, or even having a quick battle, I love these small changes.

Next on the list is the completely new content, with the most notable being Mr. Luck's tent. I'm gonna be honest I am a big fan of him, I love this character archetype of just these mischievous tricksters (probably a more common term for this trope but. y'know the sort of characters I'm probably thinking of) Honestly the whole quest introducing Prism Pokemon was very fun! Melia also explains them later on during the Goldenwood Forest section with the fight with the Prism Nidorino, but I think being able to learn about it early through the quest is fun. Also I am just a huge fan of the contracts and items you can trade in. I'm gonna save a bit though for some of the more expensive items though, at least for now. If I can find a way to grind for the Black Prisms easily I'll probably grind for that ??? contract, but I have no idea what it could be (also 999 is a lot,,,).

Next up I want to talk about the update to Venam's gym! It definitely feels a lot more her than the last one, but I do think there was a bit of charm to the idea that she didn't really get a say in what her gym was like, to the point she made a gym grave yard to help preserve those old gyms. The factory is still there and I'm gonna be honest I kinda just walked there first when it was time to challenge Venam and I was very confused-- Not complaining just a silly thing I thought I'd mention.

Next I want to talk about the Zygarde quest. I think introducing it during the main story instead of pushing it to the side in the help center was a smart move, but I did not realize who Ayuda was at first when I saw him in Venam's gym. I'm gonna be honest though, I don't see myself going out of my way to work on completing the Zygarde quest this playthrough, mostly just cause I'm not the biggest Zygarde fan, but also its just very tedious to look for all of them.

Next I wanna talk about the Goldenwood Forest Section and I just. Wow I think how it was reworked was phenomenal. First I absolutely ADORE how instead of having it be a cutscene you can help out everyone in Goldenwood made the trip feel a lot more impactful. I adored that original cutscene but honestly I think having a few quick quests to help everyone in the area made what was once gonna be one of the best days ever into the worst day ever feel a lot more... real if that makes sense, telling a story through gameplay and not just cutscenes, something Rejuvenation never had a problem with, but I'm glad they made the change here.

Also the fishing quest. Oh my goodness the fishing quest. The mechanical Lairon encounter hinting towards the future mechanical Pokemon you have to fight later on even more intense cause like. This rusty old one can give you trouble if you're not prepared for it, and and the fully functional mechanical Pokemon found later on in the game can be pretty rough, especially since there are so many of them in some sections like in the pearl route of chapter 15. That said there was something really funny to me about the idea of this fisherman having the hardest time trying to get a Magikarp haha.

Next I love the information Melia gives about the mural, how she talks about how the squares couldn't be buildings, since the Garufans hadn't been very technologically advanced. Honestly there being so many differing interpretations for the Garufans and how they handled things is so cool to me, cause I feel like its just like how people who research ancient civilizations are in real life, especially when there isn't a lot of information available. This might be partly because I have this stuff on my mind because I am taking a World Civilizations class rn for my college classes. Karen talking about in the Missing Starly quest that the Garufa were a nomadic tribe that harvested the powers from Pokemon's souls to be able to cast magic. Then in the Hidden Library quest we learn that they hated Pokemon, seeing them as vile pests. Even the idea that their technology was undeveloped is something that gets disproved later on in the story. I just find it fascinating that nobody can seem to agree on what the Garufa were like. I may be pulling at straws here though I just think its cool.

Next is the whole redesign for the Silent Grove. First I think the name itself is new but tbh I may just be forgetting and I don't feel like looking up an old playthrough to check (tbh thats just me being lazy tho). I personally was a big fan of the grove being a small secluded area, but I think the big castle builds on the lore that was first established in the Goomy Kingdom quest, that being what the world was like all the way back before the calamity decades ago, and showing that there where even more castles. Also it just makes more sense that this would lead to the secret Garufa settlement that we explore in the Pearl Route for Chapter 15. Also I love the new statue design being based on the Ranger sprite for Arceus.

Lastly I just wanted to say I think the battle with Zetta being changed to take place in a crater instead of the lake front just makes sense. It didn't make sense to me that the park had been closed off for so long after the Rift Gyrados was dealt with. I know it's because the Gyrados wasn't completely gotten rid of, but before it was just overgrown, but still manageable. This level of damage I could see needing to have a full quest line repairing.

Anyways that's it for my thoughts on Chapter 1 and the Prologue for version 13.5 of Rejuvenation. Hope you enjoyed my rambles and thank you again for reading all of them :D

[ezlebe]

i would love to see your take on a soulmate au

Disclaimer: this is a prologue/part one to a fic that will be on Ao3 in like a week or so, and I do have like four soulmate AUs, but this is the oldest WIP; I've been writing it since Dec 21 according to the timestamp, so I have to get it done first. I'm forcing myself.

“Is that your mark?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tom says, flushing some and peeking down at the veritable smudge on his arm. It’s not exactly his best feature – other people have little charming stripes or an animal, lines from a poem, and he’s got… none of that. Hell, Shiv herself has that cute blade at her ankle.

Shiv stares for longer than is strictly comfortable.

“It’s not really any sort of shape,” Tom laughs, a little awkward, thinking she might be trying to figure it out. “It’s a Rorschach, I guess. Or, well, that’s what one doctor said.”

Shiv raises a brow and touches just lightly around it. “Like the ink blots?”

“Yeah, just like,” Tom says, then he turns his arm a little to look at the inside of his bicep, tapping at the mark in some urge to cover it up – to make her stop looking at it. “I guess whoever my soulmate is, they’re a little different depending on who’s looking at them.”

Shiv hums lowly, then finally looks up from it, as a sharp grin slips across her mouth. “And you, too, huh?”

“Sure, honey,” Tom laughs, then spreads his arms across the cushions of Shiv Roy’s big sofa. “What do you think?”

~

“I didn’t know you had a cousin,” Tom says, looking at Cousin Greg-not-Craig across the field. He waves with a curl of his fingers when Greg looks over, getting a wave back, and there’s something at the back of his head insisting he walk over there right now, but he manages to stay planted beside Shiv and sips his coffee. “He’s kind of… freakishly tall, honey.”

Shiv exhales a snort, tipping her head, and noticeably doesn’t look over in his direction.

“What’s his story?”

“…Why?” Shiv says, markedly stiff and chewing at the inside of her cheek.

“He’s your cousin?” Tom suggests, then smiles and nudges a bit sideways in an attempt to gentle rib, not actually making contact with his elbow, still clutched around the watch box, but keeping the sentiment of it. “I don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“He doesn’t matter,” Shiv says, taking a drink of her coffee. The response isn’t exactly a shock, since she’d said the same about Kendall and Roman, but Tom had thought they were past that point with her family. “He’s the black lamb of the black sheep of the family. He’s probably here for a job.”

“Oh,” Tom intones, finding his interest inexplicably piqued, as he looks over again in time to watch Greg fumble a test throw. He feels a smile briefly flickering across his face, before he can control it, and looks back to Shiv with a raised brow. “What’s his degree in?”

“I don’t think he has one,” Shiv says, peeking in the same direction of Greg, then shaking her head in a pair of jerks. “You should really just forget him, Tom.”

“There’s not enough people here to forget him,” Tom says, pretending to count all the heads with his coffee cup, then pausing on Greg with a tip of it forward and a shuffling step. “I’m going to introduce myself better.”

Shiv exhales a harsh, irked breath. “Tom.”

Tom looks back with a start, something tightening at the base of his throat at her unhappy tone. “Shiv?”

Shiv is quiet for a few tense seconds, then lifts her coffee to down the rest in one surely scalding gulp. “I think… my dad wanted to talk to me – you should give him that. If you have to talk to Greg, do it after the game.”

“Oh, alright,” Tom says, falling back on his heel and making to follow Shiv, trying not to look nervous when she leads him straight to her father.

~10~

 “What do you think would happen if you –” Shiv clears her throat, tucking a stray lock of her hair over her ear. “Ever met your soulmate?”

“Huh?” Tom looks up, thinking he must have heard wrong, as he pockets his phone and decides just to concentrate on the day – his first day onboarding at Brightstar Adventure, a softball – rather than any that might come after it.

“Your soulmate?” Shiv repeats, walking a little quick through the lobby, as they make their way to the scan queue to get up the building. “What would you do? If you met – ” She hesitates, oddly, eyes darting to the side. “Her?”

“I don’t know, honey,” Tom answers, holding out his badge when it’s his turn at the stile. “I can’t imagine loving anyone more than you. I guess they’d be out of luck.”

“Tom!” A voice calls from behind him, vaguely familiar, and he turns around to see Greg at the guest entrance. He’s wearing that awful coat again, but there’s a peek of a suit under the zipper, so at least he’s halfway to respectable.

“Hey!” Tom waves back, then gestures toward the elevators, watching Greg flail, and almost laughs as he turns back to Shiv. “Why do you ask?”

“Curious, I guess,” Shiv says, pressing a bit hard on the up arrow for the elevator. She glances back out toward the lobby, then up at the descending numbers, lifting a shoulder in a tight shrug. “I read an article.”

Tom hums a high pitch, legitimately surprised, even a bit shocked; he thought Shiv couldn’t care less about that sort of thing. “Oh, was it very interesting?”

“Uh,” Shiv intones, making a sideways sort of smile. “Sort of? I just… It seems so fake, you know, like shit just for movies. But people do meet.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, as he nods, stepping into the elevator behind her at the ding. “My aunt and uncle are soulmates.”

“Are they?” Shiv says, plainly surprised, peeking up at him through her pale lashes with a narrow look.

The reaction isn’t entirely unwarranted – hardly anyone meets a soulmate, unless they’ve uploaded to a match site, and Tom’s aunt and uncle are too old for that’s sort of thing. Tom debated the idea of it himself, once or twice or many times in low moments, but in the end he found them too terribly unromantic and not worth the background check. He’s met Shiv, anyway – they just work and he’s happier with her than he could be with anyone else.

“Their marks are Canis Major,” Tom says, then laughs, thinking about the last time he saw them, only to feel his mood dip a bit when he realizes it’s been years since he even last checked up. “Kind of a downer, though – they’re cosmically perfect for each other, but my aunt’s left my uncle about three times, because he won’t stop cheating on her with ol’ Mary Jane.”

“Why does she keep going back?”

Tom tilts his head with a pointed raise his brow. “Uh, well, she loves him, honey. And most of what he does when he’s high isn’t all that bad – except burning down a gazebo.”

Shiv is quiet a beat, then huffs, a smile glancing across her mouth. “Ah. That Mary Jane.”

~9~

“You were out with Greg?” Shiv asks, after Greg has bundled out of the apartment with a warm, dryer-fresh blazer in his hands. She’s holding on to her elbows, pacing, and it’s nice for her to ask after his night, despite being clearly more distracted with Kendall. “All night?”

“Yeah,” Tom says, clearing off the table with a glance backward, then hastily sneaking a last lick of peanut butter. “I had the reservations already and he deserves something, you know. After the thing.”

“Did you – ?” Shiv pauses, then makes a noise similar to the one she made finding out Kendall sunk his ship. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, actually,” Tom says, looking up and feeling a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “I made him eat ortolan.”

“Oh jeez,” Shiv says, then laughs, but it sounds oddly forced.

“Yeah, you should’ve heard him,” Tom says, feeling his smirk spread to a full smile, a fond pressure building behind his sternum. It’s been a while since he really clicked with a friend. “Um, Tom, uh – do I like have to? He’s so susceptible to peer pressure, honey. He’s like an extra in a DARE campaign.”

Shiv stares for a pair of beats, then raises her brows with an unreadable look across her face. “So I guess you’re not going to fire him?”

“No, no,” Tom says, halfway rushing the words, a little unsure where she’s gotten that from – he hasn’t suggested it. “He’s great. I told you, he’s my guy – my R2. Or, well. Tarkin? Unless, I’m the emperor, then he’s Vader… but your father is probably the Emperor. I think I called Ken Vader? Although, I guess… now he’s Luke?”

“Whatever.” Shiv scoffs under her breath, expression souring while a pinch rapidly forms at the corner of her mouth. “Are you sure we’re still talking about Cousin Greg, though?”

Tom feels off balance at the sudden scorn on her face and the honest insult in her tone. “…Is he not great?”

Shiv rolls her eyes, “No, Tom. He’s not. Like, come on, he – He can… barely talk.”

Tom feels his own expression gradually drop to a frown, strangely feeling sharply offended. “He can talk just fine, Shiv. He just gets nervous.”

~8~

Tom squeezes his eyes shut, then winds his hands into fists and drops them to his knees. He has to get it together – he can’t… It’s his wedding day.

“Good run, honey?” Shiv asks, slipping into the room with her hair a mess of pins. She stares at Tom for a beat, then her voice drops, “Or not?”

“I’m not supposed to see you,” Tom says, trying to keep his voice light and managing to give her a smile.

“Oh, I’m not in a dress, yet,” Shiv says, dismissive, reaching into the closet and sweeping hangers back and forth, clearly unable to find something inside it. “Seriously, though – who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“I got in a… bit of a tiff with Greg,” Tom admits, taking a deep breath, then reluctantly starting to pull at the sleeves of his workout jacket. He’s a little glad Shiv is here, even if he doesn’t want to really look at her – it makes him feel a little more real, like what he did wasn’t just an overreaction; like what he did was justified.

Shiv glances over her shoulder, hands going still inside the closet. “Oh?”

“He tried to tell me something,” Tom says, throwing the jacket onto the bed next to him with a hard shake of his head. “I didn’t want to hear it. You know?”

“Oh, yeah?” Shiv says, suddenly beaming, in a way that he almost isn’t sure he’s ever seen; it’s beautiful, if a little off-putting so sudden, and he can’t help but smile back when she approaches him to actually grab at his shoulders. He can’t remember the last time she got so handsy. “You shouldn’t be thinking about anyone but me today, anyway.”

Tom laughs, tightly, then nods with a short drop of his head. “Sure.”

“Just don’t think about it,” Shiv says, letting go after another squeeze, then throwing her hands up and going back to the closet.  “Apologize after the ceremony, if you have to.” She scoffs, “Or don’t, maybe. I don’t even know why you put up with his crap.”

Tom furrows his brow, as he looks up to watch her pull a little box from the closet. “Why do you hate him so much, anyway?”

“I don’t hate him,” Shiv says, not particularly convincing in her tight voice, opening the box to reveal a set of earrings from within it. “He’d have to matter for that, Tom. I just don’t think he’s worth anyone’s time.”

~7~

“She knows who your soulmate is,” Nate says, voice tight and vindictive, as he pours his wine back in the bottle. “So this? Isn’t going to last. You shouldn’t expect it to last.”

“Wh-What?” Tom sputters, watching Nate fumbling the bottle, almost snatching it back out of his snickering fuckhead hands. “Why would you even say something like that?”

“Because it’s true,” Nate says, looking up at Tom and setting his empty glass on a table with a heavy thunk. “She knows who it is.”

“No, she – ” Tom rolls his eyes, affecting a harsher sneer. “Sure. Who, then, BJ Ballsack?”

Nate has the gall to laugh, clearly aware he’s gotten through to Tom. “I don’t know, man. She didn’t tell me. But it sounds to me like she’s known a long time. The whole time.”

Tom shakes his head. “She wouldn’t –”

“She did let slip it was a guy,” Nate adds, wetting his lips with a pointed raise of his brows, a not-so slick glance up and down Tom from his oxfords to his open collar.

Tom feels his words die and swallows hard.

Nate barks a mean laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

~6~

“Wait, what the hell is that?” Shiv asks, glancing over her shoulder with a wide turn of her head down the hall, where a simple man is making some fool of himself shoving a desk into different corners of a very small space with the glee of a child on Christmas morning. “Why is Greg getting a real office?”

“Oh, just a – a reward as part of some restructuring, honey,” Tom says, scratching just under his tie while refusing to glance in the same direction. “He’s figured out a way to lay off a lot of dead weight. Did you know ATN isn’t completely digital?”

Shiv is quiet for a few beats, rolling her lips together. “Sure. And what does – ? Cousin Greg figured a way out of that?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Tom says, giving in and looking over his shoulder, incidentally catching Greg when he pokes out of his office with an overly eager grin and a… slinky? He shakes his head hard, throwing out a dismissive wave, as he turns Shiv in the other direction. “So you know… new office, new title, make him feel a little special, so he doesn’t jump ship.”

“You don’t need to make him feel anything, honey,” Shiv says,reaching up and oddly clutching at Tom’s upper arm, then all but tugs him into the door of his own office. “He’s got nowhere else – if he jumped ship, he’d drown.”

“He could be headhunted,” Tom says, swallowing hard while glancing down at her grip across his arm, too purposefully digging into the patched soulmark under his shirt. He looks around, wondering who she might’ve seen – not that he cares about, or believes, what Nate Sofrelli said in some obvious moment of jealousy, but… it sticks in his craw a bit, the way she’s been asking around and showing up on the floor since he’s started at ATN. It’s great to see her, but it almost feels like she’s waiting to catch him at something here. “Lucky we didn’t bring him to the Pierce country asylum, huh? He would’ve integrated with those poindexters in a half second.”

“You know…” Shiv releases her grip with a bland smirk. “Dad once spread a pretty nasty rumor that Nan was Marianne’s real mom.”

Tom barks out a laugh, trying to imagine how that might even work. “Really? That is funny.”

~5~

Shiv’s eyes linger over the railing, with a crooked edge growing at the corner of her mouth. “But Nia Bayton, huh? I never would’ve took her for your type.”

“I – I really wasn’t going to close the deal, honey,” Tom says, a little wary that she might be trying to find some similarity in a woman that he was mostly just schmoozing to pass time, or… worse, wondering why he wasn’t chatting up someone leaning more masculine. What he’s really been doing, though, is just waiting while Greg wanders around doing Greg things, like eavesdropping, typically, before settling down into a booth to hear the resulting dispatch. “Light flirting.”

“Uh-huh,” Shiv says, as the crook switches to the opposite side of her mouth, then her eyes focus directly at Tom while a brow goes up her forehead. “I heard you came here with Greg, anyway?”

Tom blinks and stares for a beat, then glances down the floor to see if Greg might be down there, but he’s… not, so it seems, and he’s difficult to hide. “I did, but I think he went to get a drink? You don’t need to talk – ?”

“No,” Shiv interrupts, a bit forcefully and smiling through flat lips. “Just wondering… You know, you don’t have to hang out with him outside work. If he’s dragging you down.”

“Dragging? He doesn’t have the stomach for that kind of direct action,” Tom says, laughing a bit too loud, maybe, and thinking of Greg’s recent foray into blackmail. He probably should feel less eager to share his company, but… it’s just Greg. “Roman’s around somewhere, you know; I’d be more concerned with him throwing off the groove.”

“Sure, okay, but maybe what I’m really saying – ” Shiv smirks and leans into his side with a playful jab of her elbow against his side. “Is I’m here, right, so you don’t need to worry about anyone else tonight. Huh?”

Tom offers a laugh, then a nod, feeling the night slip through his fingers. He had been almost looking forward to hanging out with Greg later tonight; the actual day was a bit shitty, but it had felt like they’d been in sync, too, bracing each other against the hordes of Arc’teryx and Berghaus.

He peeks sidelong and incidentally catches the man himself across from them on the other platform, only a few feet from Nia’s table. He watches as Greg glances at Shiv, then winces, somewhat theatrically, and Tom ultimately bobs his own chin to the side in a subtle dismissal slash goodbye.

Greg offers a drop of his head, answering with a wan smile and a sendoff in the lift of his hand.

“Tom.”

“Yeah, honey?” Tom looks back to Shiv with a smile, but it fades when he sees a brief flicker of upset. “You okay?”

Shiv presses her lips flat, then tilts her head with an affected beat of confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

~4~

Tom stares out across the water; glittering and glimmering and beautiful on the surface, cold and deep and dangerous just underneath. He listens to Shiv turn a page on her book, smack her lips, and is unsure if she’s actually reading or just pretending to, but she had also dragged him out here on a nice little jaunt after volunteering him for prison, so what does he know. She maybe could just go back to a book after he tells her that he’s feeling pretty damned awful about their relationship. She even could be, probably is, hiding his soulmate from him, too, which might be some kind of messed up romantic, if she even cares about him that much; he really… He just can’t tell, anymore. The whole five year plan has gone to shit.

“Have you really never even thought about it?” Shiv asks, her voice tight, and a wrenching, evident stuffiness to her tone. “Not even with…” Another page turns, so pretending to, turns out. “I don’t know, Tom, maybe just someone at work?”

Tom feels his jaw clench until he could swear he hears a creak, squeezing his eyes shut against the glaring sun. Okay, fuck. “What? Who – who are you trying to… I don’t even know, foist upon me now?” He asks, turning to look, as he flicks his hand back and forth in a brief, tired gesture. “Or is it some other – no, Shiv. Did you really not… listen at all?”

Shiv shakes her head, palm against her forehead while she scratches further into her scalp. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then who?” Tom asks, voice pitching and wondering if she knows what he’s asking her; does she know that he knows, too? “Who do you mean?”

Shiv drops her hand down her shoulder, until it’s clutching at the back of her ankle curled up to her chest. “No one, Tom.”

Tom digs hard into the sand under his fingers, annoyed at an intrusive thought that she might mean Greg, somehow, as the only other person that Tom ever sees to entertain in any given free time. He’d even sulked yesterday evening away on weak mimosas beside Greg, despite their lingering Senate tension, who gambled on the life of his Nintendo and his tiny pixel farm from the hot tub. He also got mild heat stroke and swooned like a princess, so… maybe, it’s better that Tom was there to rescue all three of them.

Fate, and everything cliché, hah; too bad Greg always, always wears a patch, like a married man.

~3~

Shiv peeks into Tom’s office after a brief glance backward, leaning into the jamb. “Thanks again for handling that minion wrangling,” she says, a smile flashing, in a way that could only really be described as polite, across her mouth. “I guess Dad tried some talk earlier that just ended in Greg pulling a Greg with him.”

Tom rolls his lips against each other for a brief few seconds, then nods with a drop of his head. “He did imply that when I was down there, yes.”

“I knew you could do it,” Shiv says, brows raising sharply up in some facial version of a double thumbs-up. “You and him, you… you know. Speak the same language or whatever.”

Tom idly moves his mouse across the browser on-screen, as he swallows hard; he wonders if that makes him more or less part of the family. “Right. If you say so.”

“You didn’t promise him anything, right?” Shiv asks, voice dropping, as she shoulders her way a little further in the door, though she still doesn’t actually enter it. “It’s fine if you did, honey, but I kind of need to know what it was.”

Tom looks up and… realizes he didn’t, actually, he didn’t offer Greg a thing, which makes it even worse. It was purely pity. “No. Nope, your private jets are safe. We just had a talk about… where we were going, you could say.”

Shiv goes immediately, oddly cool at that, mouth pinching as she lifts her chin. “What do you mean – as in, together?”

Tom turns his hands across the desk with a croaking laugh, gesturing at the binders, the business cards, and the general disgusting miasma of his current existence. He thinks nonsensically about the mark on his arm and wonders despairingly if his soulmate on the floor, or upstairs, or whoever he is, also calls him terminal. “Me. Prison, Shiv.”

“Oh.” Shiv clicks her tongue, canting backward on a foot. She seems to think for a beat, then her eyebrows go straight up, refocusing on Tom with a tight smile. “No, honey. That’ll work out.”

~2~

Tom squints down at the city while riding out a throb between his temples, as the fuzzier details of last night filter through in achy bits and pieces. “Do I remember your brothers – all your brothers – getting into it a bit last night?”

“That was just – just typical Rome. No biggie.” Shiv says, flipping her hair across her shoulder. She briefly peeks up while peeling a yogurt, fingers fiddling with a spoon. “…How about you? Saw you slip into Kendall’s fucked up version of a – a tunnel of love with Greg. What was that about?”

“Yeah, hah. He… dragged me in there to brag that he’s got himself a real live woman to agree to date,” Tom says, uneasily remembering the… compliment tunnel, whatever the fuck Kendall thought that was except a scream for help, in woozy swoops of blue and green. He recalls most of all his head feeling thirty feet off his shoulders, unmoored and unreal, except when Greg’s big hands would intermittently tug him back to the floor. “…With a ponytail, I think. She works for Kendall.”

Shiv doesn’t respond for a few beats. “Oh,” she says, in a tonal hum markedly punched out around her spoon. “Huh. Good for him.”

Tom furrows his brow at the window, then briefly glances over his shoulder just to make sure it’s Shiv sitting behind him. “…You think so?”

“Yeah, Tom,” Shiv says, digging at the yogurt with a harsh scrape of the spoon against the glass cup. “He needs to talk to people outside you.”

“Sure, but,” Tom says, looking back out across the balcony with a few blinks, ignoring the twisty, queasy feeling in his gut. “He does, though, honey?”

“…And Kendall, I guess,” Shiv says, as the yogurt lands down onto the table with a series of clinks of spoon and cup. “Hey, maybe now you should try to get some breathing room without the whole legal fuckshow hanging over your head.”

Tom drops his eyes to the brazier that he failed to destroy all the papers in that night. He swallows hard, then glances again over his shoulder. “You think that’s a good direction?”

“Yeah,” Shiv says, shrugging with a smirk and a light furrow of her brow. “Why not?”

~1~

“Hey, yours is a little arrow? That’s cute,” Roman says, angled into the back of the lounge sofa. “I’ve got a cat nose or something.”

“I’ve seen, Roman,” Gerri hums, which is disturbing news on all fronts, since Roman’s is notoriously in a particularly private area.

“Not juicy enough?” Roman whines, exhaling a sing-songy breath. “Oh, hey, guess who has one of those ink stains for crazy people?”

Tom freezes in the archway, not all at once, but more a cold washing over him slow and painful. He glances across the hedges to Shiv badly hiding a sneer at her mother, sourness settling at the back of his throat.

“Cousin Greg,” Roman says, stage-whispering now with a lean over in front of Gerri, blocking her view of her table. “On his arm. You know how he always keeps it covered, even though he’s not married? It’s ‘cause it’s a total eyesore.”

Tom finds himself gawking in askance, bodily slanting into the arch, and feels something like horror, but more like epiphany, bait his breath. He glances toward the other side of the gardens, where Greg is awkwardly nodding at the nameless Contessa. No… No, what? That can’t be –

“Then how do you know?” Gerri asks, snide and unworried, peeking over her shoulder to settle a dubious look on Roman.

“When we were kids, we sort of almost drowned him,” Roman says, wry, but with a badly hidden note of what might actually be guilt at the back end of his trailing laugh. “Connor heimliched him.”

Gerri tuts lowly, annoyingly unworriedby this confession of near murder. “Roman.”

“We were like eleven!” Roman says, shaking his hands out in half-hearted defense. “Shiv was who saw it, first, after Connor pulled him out. Told him he’d never find his soulmate because it was just a big ugly mess like him.”

“Hardly anyone does, to be fair,” Gerri says, humming, then tilts her head to show Roman something on her screen that makes him shrug. “Though I’m sure that’s hard to understand for a child.”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Roman says, leaning into the arm to perch while swiping at the screen. “He almost died, then Shiv told him he was unloveable, so… yeah. Shitty day for Greg the Egg.”

~0~

“Why?” Tom repeats, exhaling a weak, creaking laugh and spreading his hands at his sides. “Why, you ask? Because you’ve spent the last four years of my life fucking jerking me around, Shiv.”

“Years?” Shiv repeats, incredulous, and it’s almost more painful that it seems like the timeline of the accusation is more she has an issue with, not the act.

“Cousin Greg has an ink stain,” Tom mocks, pitching his voice up high to match Roman’s nasal.

Shiv’s jaw drops slightly while her eyes go wide, markedly darting toward Tom’s arm, then back to his face with a lift of her chin. She looks like she might say something, for a beat, then presses her lips in a blanched line.

“Yeah,” Tom says, halfway choking, furrowing his brow tight over his eyes and refusing to let his burning eyes go further than discomfort. “Guess who has a big mouth.”

“So? This is it?” Shiv demands, arms wrapping tight at her middle and offering a jerking nod to the space between them. “My whole life crumbles in a fucking hour?”

“An hour, Shiv, you –? You know, I…” Tom says, weakly, feeling something awful tighten and shatter behind his ribs at how easily she is going to let this happen between them; he thinks about the lawyer he called months ago for a fucking timeline, and wonders if she’d be so shocked by it. “I could’ve lived with it, if you actually loved me, or never mentioned you don’t love me, or maybe even if you just… stuck to our original plan? But… what was it – just a big power trip, stringing me along an-and watching me ruin what I might have had with my soulmate?”

Shiv offers a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it instant of guilt through her pinched expression. “No, Tom – ”

“I hit him when he told me you were cheating, you know,” Tom interrupts, wetting his lips and forcing himself to look her in the eye, as he continues, though he doesn’t expect much more visible sympathy, or really any at all. “I had him incriminate himself for your father’s company; I threw him to the fucking government wolves; I – I made a fool of myself to him a number of times at your behest, quite recently. I sometimes think he hates me, Siobhan. I can tell when he looks at me sometimes that he wants me anywhere else on the planet.”

Shiv rolls her lips together, reaching up and rubbing at her brow with a harsh, shaky inhale.

“But I… I do love him. Almost since I met him,” Tom laughs, wetly, looking down at his hands and catching on the glitter of a largely meaningless symbol. “What is it about him, you know? What was it – I couldn’t fucking figure it out.

“And not an hour ago, I had to bribe him to stay with me on this,” he says, yanking the ring off, swallowing hard, then slamming it out onto the table between them. “With Waystar. Because otherwise, he would leave me, after everything that’s happened between us. Everything that wouldn’t have happened, if you had just… told me who he was. He was all but there when I fucking proposed to you, Shiv!”

“Why’d you do it, then?” Shiv asks, taking a horrible, loud sniff and attempting to disguise it with turn of her nose. “Propose to me; stay with me; try to have some kid, if you –”

“Because I got attracted to other people, too,” Tom says, throwing his hands out while shaking his head in a rapid movement. “But we’re not the same, Shiv! I hate what happened to our relationship – that I wonder if we… Were we ever even on the same wavelength? Because I thought we were, for a long while there, and I know you know that – everything we talked about… or did you just think it was alright because you weren’t my soulmate?”

Shiv takes a sharp breath, glancing away from Tom in a rapid blink. “Does he know?” She asks, tightly not answering him. “Did you tell him?”

“No,” Tom says, aching, looking down at the ring, then away toward the shadowed window. “You can, if you want.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’d even believe it.”

Shiv is quiet a few beats too long, then tightens the arms she has around her middle. “It’s not my business.”

“It used to mean a lot to me,” Tom says, voice hoarse and chest so tight that it feels like his heart must be bursting against ribs. He looks at Shiv, wrapped up around in herself, and he looks down at the ring, thinking about when he wouldn’t hesitate to reach for her, but… “Since I didn’t get it until later? I know that’s bullshit.” He drags his teeth hard across his lower lip. “Now I just get to wait until Kendall offers him a fucking Maserati and he hangs me.”