#//Its all fun and games until a demonic subjects you to nightmares for a week

[dxfiedfxte]

Sleeping Meme (Repost do not reblog)

Type of bed: At his home, he has a king-sized bed because he likes to move around a lot when sleeping alone, to Minato, there's no better feeling than being able to roll around onto the other side of the bed, despite this, he doesn't really move around too much in bed unless he's feeling extra comfy.

Number of blankets: It depends on the season. In spring he uses two thin blankets, the top one being a little bit thicker. For summer, he uses the central AC he installed upon buying the house. Since it is nice and cool in the house, he usually opts for one thick comforter since his central air is very strong. Fall, he likes to keep his bedroom balcony screen door open all night so he can take in the cool fall breeze (Which he is very comfortable doing since his bedroom is on the fifth floor in his seven-story home, so he doesn't need to worry about stalker fan girls sneaking in, also the fence surrounding his home) so in turn, he uses a very thick comforter with a thinner bottom layer blanket. In Winter he turns his heat up and usually goes for a thin blanket. One that's thin enough to keep him cool, but also still keeps him warm.

Number of pillows: Minato has six pillows, four of them stay along the headboard, while the last one foes under the main pillow under his head to elevate him a bit. Because of his height now, he needs to have his head elevated a little just to sleep comfortably.

Type of clothing: Minato isn't too picky with what he wears to bed, but his choice of sleepwear usually consists of: A dark blue tank top and black loose-fitting pajama pants, a midnight blue t-shirt, and black shorts. Some days, if he's feeling too lazy, he'll just throw on a pair of pajama pants and sleep shirtless.

Does it matter where they sleep?: Kind of but not really. For the most part, if he's tired or comfortable enough, he can fall asleep pretty easily. Although the hotels he stays at do play a big part in that as well. While Minato isn't really concerned about staying at flashy and fancy four-star hotels, he at least wants the hotel to be good quality, with top-tier housekeeping and hospitality.

What do they do when they can't fall asleep?: If there is ever a night that Minato for some reason, cannot sleep, he'll kill some time by either:

Play a video game on his Switch or 3DS XL (He's always torn between a horror game or an RPG)

Post a random tweet on t.witter asking which of his fans across the world are up, or just make a random shower thoughts type of post out of amusement and observe how his fans react.

Look over his collection of haunted and supposedly cursed artifacts and items and take count.

Dig through his horror movie collection and struggle to choose between a slasher flick or a paranormal-themed flick for an hour or two

Have some herbal tea to try and invoke sleep, but ends up munching on cookies, thus failing his attempt to become tired by having sugar

Read a horror book in the dark, under a single reading lamp

Hunt for ghosts in his own home until boredom or sleep hits

If all else fails, he'll lie down in the dark playing soft and sleep-inducing music until he eventually crashes out.

Frequent dreams, and/or nightmares: Minato's dreams stem from very weird and bizarrely random(A good example of this: Minato once dreamt of entering a land of gummy bears and proceeded to eat them, they even encouraged him) All the way to serious or fun. Though he's no stranger to bad nights of his own. Sometimes, he does have nightmares about his parent's deaths, but only during the month it happened ( I can't remember if there was a canon month given, but I'll assume September for now) There have also been a few instances where Minato has had reoccurring nightmares of something for a week due to coming in contact with some very malicious entities that curse his dreams for a limited time.

Deep slumber or naps?: Minato can do both, though it all depends on what he's doing at the moment. If he's still tired, his best chances of a nap would be on the train if it's a ride longer than five hours, on his private plane, or if he's being carpooled/escorted. If Minato is driving though, he always makes sure he's well energized since he doesn't want to risk falling asleep at the wheel. In terms of deep sleep, Minato tends to do that on Sundays since those are well renowned for being a lazy day.

When do they sleep?: When he goes to sleep, depends entirely on his work schedule. Almost every day, Minato works until very late at night and into the early morning, the times he sleeps vary between 4 to 6 am on a work day. But if it's a day off, it's usually either 1 or 2 am.

What could wake them up?: Lots of things, the most common being: His alarm clock, or the one on his phone, the bits of sunlight that poke into his room (Which is why he has blackout curtains in his bedroom), and Takashi who has literally dragged him out of bed a few times on a Sunday whenever he's had the odd career related thing to do, be it a guest appearance on a show, podcast or an interview.

Above all though, Minato would like to be woken up by his significant other over everything else, he's used to the normal ways of waking up, so being woken up gently by his lover is what he would prefer, especially compared to Takashi ripping the blanket off of him.

Tagged by: the amazing @more-than-a-princess (Thank you ^_^)

Tagging: @tacitusauxilium @mirrorsoftheotherself (Rei :3) @epitomees (Chie?) @oraclememehacker @chibitantei @hxpelessnurse @memoriamexarca (Minako) @unladielike

[storysofmyown]

Obey me master list

Feel free to send me headcanons or even request if you want as well!! My inbox is always open!

Fics: One shot

Note: Each fic has its own warnings in the post itself.

The passing of time: One by one, the brothers start to notice how Mc changes as time goes by.

A nightmare come true: After being attacked by a demon and trying to hide it away, Mc is faced with a harsh truth…how truly weak they are. 

A devilish trip: The brothers decide to take a trip to the beach. It’s all fun and games until a demon decides to ruin it. 

Happy birthday Levi!: Just a fluffy fic for best otaku Levi!

Another kind of family: Satan thinks of Lucifer as his dad, but does Lucifer think the same?

You shine brighter: A diavolo x asmodeus fic (recommend reading the headcanons for this beforehand)

An Angels Promise: In which Luke starts doubting the Celestial realm, and wondering if perhaps, he should have stayed right beside Simeons side. Wherever that might be. 

Fics: Multiple chapters

Note: In the first chapter you can find links for the other chapters.

Scarred: It’s time for the next step in Diavolo’s plan to unify the realms. But, in order to work, the demons would be subjected to confront their worst fears, and in some cases, who they are Mc. (Status: Completed)

Seven stages of love: Ever since the Celestial War, since they all fell, Asmodeus has  dedicated himself to his sin. Not caring about anything else, but  drowning himself in the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. But not anymore,  now he cant even handle the idea of it. But, what else is there to  want? After so long of having indulged in his sin, what is there than  Asmodeus is looking for, something that will fill him, and that wont  drive him to destruction? Perhaps his brothers can help him with that.(Status: Completed)

Headcanons:

Mc that is into historical costuming

Asmodeus x Diaviolo

Cuddles with Satan: Not really headcanon but more just inner desire lmao

How the demons bros would asks you to marry them: Part one

How the demons bros would asks you to marry them: Part two

General relationship headcanons for Satan and Asmodeus

Single father Lucifer AU: 

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Mammons birthday bonus

First drabble

Mc turns into an animal a week after the paws and claws event

Lucifer, Beel and Belphies reaction to an Mc that plays with their pen

The boys with an Mc who cant seem to fall asleep

The boys in quarantine

The brothers when you tell them want to be in a poly relationship with them

The brothers when they find out you also like Simeon and Solomon

Asmo with an Mc that doesn't particularly care about self care

Poly scenarios with Mammon, Levi, Satan, Beel, Belphie, Simeon and Solomon

Meet my Mcs:

Amaria

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch6

Cause...

~~~Previous Chapter~~~

Word count - 3,214

A quick note - I have gotten a few requests for permission to create fan art of this fic. This goes out to all of you - Go nuts. I'm honored that anyone gets inspired by my work and I will never have a problem with someone being creative. I'd love to see anything you guys make, but if you aren't comfortable I still want you to do it. Have fun :)

__________

You sighed as the last patient left the room, alone at last. Thoughts raced through your mind, whizzing like Mentos in a bottle of Coke. Too much happened today, you needed the chance to process and assess.

First of all, you outright lied to your boss. You risked your career, your reputation and integrity, and for what? Why did you do such an idiotic thing? It made no sense, but it was quickly becoming a pattern. First the hidden sketch, then the incomplete notes regarding your sessions, and now this. What was wrong with you?

Second, walking in on V’s…

You pursed your lips as blood rushed to your face. Even thinking about it made you feel like an idiot.

Third, the artist’s behavior with the other patients. You’d imagined a variety of possibilities for the session, but not once had you pictured him teaching, showing patience and compassion. The man seemed limitless in his ability to surprise you.

However, you struggled to believe the moment was genuine after the wink. Was he only putting on an act for your benefit? If so, why?

If his goal was to convince you of his stability the wink was a stupid choice, and V was anything but stupid. Had he simply meant it as a playful gesture, a manifestation of your strange relationship? Unlikely, but possible. His version of an inside joke, perhaps.

Or he may have only wanted to throw you off. He loved playing mind games, after all. It would fit what you knew of him so far, but something still felt off about the exchange. None of the scenarios brought you any comfort or reassurance.

Fourth on your list of weird things that happened today; his painting. Since several others already saw it, there was no chance you could keep it from his file. All you could do was cross your fingers and hope Malphas didn’t read into it too much.

You glanced at it every few seconds as you gathered the used brushes and rinsed away the paint, scrubbing at the palettes until they returned to their pristine white. He truly was gifted, there was no denying that. Even with your limited understanding of art, his skill was obvious.

But that wasn’t why you couldn’t stop looking at it.

No, that was due to the subject of his work. You took another look as you set the supplies aside to dry, searching for insights into his thoughts. Any detail might prove crucial to his treatment, regardless of what the image made you feel.

It wasn’t your job to feel; only to treat.

He’d created a sunset over a grey building, windows dripping with what could only be blood. Barren trees and wilted grass framed a narrow stone path, a pair of bats in mid-flight between their desolate branches. Every stroke led the eye to the two figures traversing the scene, their likenesses too familiar to ignore.

Kotomi’s form featured energetic shades of scarlet, evocative of rage and hatred. A sickly green hue replaced the normal chocolate shade of her almond eyes and a cruel grin twisted her lips. She resembled a demon or a monster from an old myth. Devoid of her usual radiance and beauty, leaving only spite and fury behind.

Beside her stood a figure that could only be yours. Even with her face turned away, it was clear from the hairstyle and clothing. Unlike with Kotomi, V used vivid purples and blues to create your image. He’d taken the time to use a finer brush, adding details ignored in all other areas. The gentleness of his strokes stunned you, but not as much as the tiny orb of black resting right where your heart lied.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Yet the most disturbing aspect of the image was the tightly clenched fist in the foreground, ebony lines running from knuckle to wrist. V’s hand, without a doubt. There, his technique shifted to an almost surreal level of intentional distortion. No other word suited the twisted lines or the overly bony fingers.

Is this from the night he had that episode? Did he see me and Kotomi leaving? How? He should’ve been restrained still!

You pursed your lips and unhooked the canvas, laying it on the counter to dry. There was no doubt it was you, the pattern of the shirt matched what you wore that day.

Is it possible that’s what triggered his episode? But why? Why would that make him angry?

You told yourself he envied your freedom, but the thought rang with falseness. The truth was there, plain for all to see in his work if they only knew what to look for. Why else would he paint you and Kotomi so differently?

Yet you refused to allow the words to form in your head.

Denial had its uses.

Over the next few days, you tried to keep from thinking about the painting. It was in the system and out of your control, only time would tell what consequences waited for you, if any. There was nothing to gain from thinking on it further.

Despite your best efforts, it snuck its way into your mind more than once. how could it not? It was stunning work.

In your daily private sessions, the artist created new pieces to add to his growing file. Scenes of carnage and mayhem, death and disaster. Each featured himself or Griffon, but never any others. No new details. Relief at not finding yourself his subject again mixed with disappointment at the lack of new information with every scanned image.

Today was no exception.

The page in your hands displayed the man himself swimming in red with an angelic smile. You sighed as the door to your office clicked shut as Kevin took V back to his quarters yet again. If the man just talked, this would be so much easier, but he refused to answer any questions about his past.

Maybe he’s not as interesting as I thought…

You pursed your lips. It was too early to jump to conclusions. He needed more time to develop trust, that’s all. You just had to be patient.

A harsh ping broke your reverie as an email notification lit your screen. The sender marked it as top priority and you clicked on the tab; maybe this could keep you busy for a while. A new patient? Changes to protocol?

Oh, no… it’s from Malphas.

He knows! Shit!

It was foolish to imagine he wouldn’t notice. What were you thinking, allowing it to get this far? Honestly, the man wasn’t even that interesting. He certainly wasn’t worth your career, not after so many years in medical school. Plus, you still owed thousands of dollars in student loans. You couldn’t afford to be set back, too much was at stake.

Calm down! Think it through, come on!

Your heartbeat raced as you read the message again, just to be sure. It wouldn’t do to overreact.

Do I need to be concerned about the nature of your relationship with your patient?

It was phrased as a question. All Malphas had was the painting, he probably didn’t have a clue about the rest. You’d been careful, nobody except you and V knew about the other sketches or the incident before the first group session. By the time Kevin entered the room, the artist was fully covered and the orderly was the least observant person you’d ever known.

It wasn’t too late.

Your fingers flew across the keyboard, typing a suitable response in moments. Everything rode on how well you covered your ass today; a single wrong word and you were done for.

Absolutely not. The patient is developing an attachment to me, but I assure you I remain nothing but professional. I will not allow the patient’s stance to interfere with treatment.

A sour taste filled your mouth. The lies kept getting worse, but what else could you do? Besides, he was making progress. It was worth it to restore him, right?

It had to be.

You waited a few minutes to hit send; it might be suspicious if you replied more quickly than usual. What a mess, to even need to consider such a ridiculous deception.

Well, at least I’m not bored.

A snort split your pursed lips and you leaned back in your chair. The first pulses of a tension headache brought your hands to your temples, rubbing away the pain. The last one was years ago, back in med school.

In a way, you enjoyed it. The pain and panic shattered the torturous disinterest you normally felt. Not the most pleasant shift, but a shift nonetheless. You’d take what you could get.

Another ding signaled a response. Your eyes fluttered open to read.

I thought so, but I had to ask. It’s protocol, after all. If it becomes an issue I can assign the patient to a different doctor, but until then keep up the good work!

The pain vanished and the void of disinterest returned, the danger now resolved. You released a deep grown of frustration and tried to reignite the embers of strife, but it was too late.

---V---

The artist swallowed the now familiar capsule with a grimace. What a joke, to think a mere few milligrams could transform him into a mindless sheep. There was no caging the wolf within, not now.

Not ever again.

All he needed to do was escape, then his masterpiece could finally be completed. The thought flooded his senses with delight, joy so profound a bark of laughter spilled from his lips.

Soon…

By his count, a full week had passed since his first group session. Any minute now, Kevin would collect him for round two and he’d finally get to test his theory. If all went smoothly, he might be free by the end of the day.

Only if the circumstances align. Don’t let your impatience ruin everything.

“Yes, Vergil. Any mistakes and all is lost.”

Do not fail me.

He swallowed at the threatening tone in the man’s voice. The consequences of falling short were dire, he knew that. The restraints would return and he’d likely be barred from future group sessions. He may never leave his small quarters again. Never be allowed to touch a paintbrush again.

Unacceptable.

So, he needed to be cautious. Meticulous in his planning. Flawless in execution and creative when something inevitably went wrong. Even the finest plans fell apart at first contact with the enemy, after all. Haste would spell his doom.

Familiar shuffling steps heralded Kevin’s arrival and V smirked, stepping to the door to meet him with arms held at the ready for the ever-present cuffs.

“Hello, Kevin. How’s your family?”

Over the last several days, he made it a point to gain the orderlies trust. It wasn’t hard, considering how straightforward he was. A question here, a comment there…

“Doing good! Sarah starts kindergarten next week, we��re taking her out to celebrate this weekend.”

The metal clicked into place and the artist followed the other man to the security gate. “Wonderful! I imagine she’s excited.”

Kevin chuckled as the guard buzzed them past, barely paying attention to his surroundings. Throughout the elevator ride and the short walk to the group room, V chatted about meaningless drivel as if nothing else mattered. He was grateful the journey didn’t take long, otherwise he might’ve lost his patience and choked the fool.

And then there you were, smiling as you spotted him.

His progress with you was much slower. It needed to be, considering how much he planned to ask of you. If he rushed the process, you wouldn’t survive. After all his careful conditioning this far, the idea alone set his teeth on edge.

“Hi, V. Kevin. Come on in,” you said.

“Hello, Dr. Waras. Are we the first again?” he replied.

You nodded and gestured at the trio of easels, as if he needed encouragement. Enough pleasantries.

The itch returned to his fingers as Kevin brought over an assortment of supplies. Plain white canvas begged for his touch, the surface naked without his work. Lightness spread through his chest and his breath hitched, mind already racing with ideas.

Ken and Kelly arrived moments later, taking the same spots as last week. The round woman looked as bleak as ever, unwashed and lethargic. Her eyes didn’t meet his once as she sat and waited for her supplies. Truly, a waste of space if ever he saw one. He turned to Ken instead.

“Hello, Ken.”

He met the man’s eyes with a slight smile, forcing his face to display honesty and welcome. Even with only an hour of experience around him, V knew Ken didn’t trust easily. Subtlety was his only hope of success.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get started. Today I want you to paint the first thing you think of when I say the word ‘flight’.”

Quite a different prompt from last week.

No kidding. She’s playin’ it safe, Van Gogh.

He ignored them, still focused on Ken. The man stared at him like an alien, struggling to respond. After an uncomfortably long pause, he ever so slowly nodded in greeting. It would do, for now.

V turned back to his canvas. Flight.

Vergil and Griffon were right, loathe as he was to admit it. The word ‘flight’ brought several ideas to mind, most of which were beneath him to bother with. Yet each idea lacked risk or daring, despite man’s natural position on the ground. Last week’s painting must have left a lasting impression, indeed.

In that case, he needed to be conservative. Too much at once and he’d lose you.  No matter how strong the temptation, his resistance now meant greater pleasures in the future.

The first stroke of pale sapphire purged every thought from his mind. The second, and a shiver of delight raced up his spine. With the third came goosebumps, and the fourth stole the air from his lungs. He marveled at the myriad of sensations, reveling in how no matter how many times he painted, it always brought the same euphoria.

“Kelly, do you need help?” you asked after ten minutes.

V huffed in frustration at the rude destruction of his trance-like state. If the woman was so hopeless as to need help, she shouldn’t be there. Even a child could paint a bird. How you sounded so understanding, he didn’t know. He listened with half his attention as he continued his work, switching brushes to begin outlining the details.

“I can’t think of anything…”

A soft hum and the rustle of fabric. “Well, let’s start with things that fly. Planes, insects, maybe birds?”

“I don’t like birds.”

The artist tuned out the conversation. There was nothing to gain from listening further, besides annoyance at the woman’s stupidity. He already had plenty of that. Perhaps it was a good time to work on Ken? The three orderlies looked like they weren’t paying a speck of attention, this was as unsupervised as he was likely to get.

He leaned a few inches closer and licked his lips. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Ken blinked like an owl, his hand frozen in midair several inches from the waiting canvas. “What?”

“I’ll tell you why I’m stuck here if you’ll do the same.”

A pause. V hummed and added several feathers to the wings, dabbing globs of yellow between to represent the melting glue. Ah, Icarus. The first child lost to naive dreams and foolishness.

Well, probably not the first.

“You go first,” Ken replied at last.

V knew his options. Lying would get him nowhere, the man could ask anyone on staff and no doubt they’d tell his story. Any trust between them would be irrevocably damaged. All he could do was frame the truth in a favorable light, or at least try.

“I murdered three people.”

A startled squeak slipped from Ken’s tightened lips. His eyes were comically wide, nostrils flaring. “Why?”

V glanced again at the orderlies, finding them a few feet back with drooping lids. Nothing to be concerned about. “To awaken humanity to the truth. None are safe from the folly of innocence.”

A moment passed in silence, the quiet sound of horsehair on canvas the only soundtrack to the scene. V glanced at Ken every so often, timing his next words with the moment his face began to relax from his instinctual terror.

“Why are you here? What nonsense do they tell you is wrong with you?”

“They… they say I’m delusional,” he began, adding a few shaky dollops of color. “But I swear it’s all true.”

The artist smirked. “Hmm. A familiar tune. Any who are blind to the truth refuse to even admit its possible existence.”

When he next looked toward Ken, the man was gaping at him. Fear still flickered in his shining eyes, but a hint of relief teased at the edges. Perhaps no one believed him before, how perfect. A better opening, he couldn’t imagine.

“Care to share?” he asked with an intrigued expression.

He listened in stoic and attentive silence as Ken spouted off theory after theory, gathering steam as he continued. The man seemed capable of believing anything, from potential coups to life on Mars and everything in between. He may be far more useful than he’d initially imagined. If he were to take advantage, all he needed to do was suggest a conspiracy. Child’s play.

V checked the others in the room. You were still locked in a discussion with Kelly. The woman had yet to even open a container of paint. The orderlies stood at least six feet back, only still vertical because they locked their knees. Fools.

When Ken at last fell silent, V gestured towards you and Kelly with a dismissive flick of his brush. “Look at how she fawns, it’s absurd.”

The man glanced his way and shrugged, his hand still adding blue to form a skyline. Why wait? Might as well get started now.

“Considering the state Kelly's in, the assignment seems like torture. Do you think she might be trying to provoke further depths of pain from the poor woman?”

Another distracted glance, but the first hints of concern appeared. “Who, Dr. Waras?”

“Yes, she seems manipulative, don’t you think?”

Ken’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His brows furrowed in thought and a frown twisted his lips. Perfect, it was working. Now, to drive it home.

“I’d hate to be the target of her scheming. Who knows what she has planned?”

The man closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, his unsteady hand leaving a jagged line on his simplistic work.

“Perhaps this place is meant to destroy us. They say they’re trying to heal us, but have you gotten any better? I haven’t.”

Ken whimpered and V struggled to keep the smirk at bay.

“If only there was a way to escape…”

The artist lowered his eyes, his shoulders dipping as if in resignation as he turned back to his own canvas. He heard every harsh breath the man took, every squirm as he battled at his suggestions. In time, he would succumb. He lacked the will power to do anything else.

[theyearoftheking]

Book 2: ‘Salem’s Lot

Success is my only motherfuckin' option, failure’s not Mom, I love you, but this trail has got to go, I cannot grow old in Salem's lot So here I go is my shot Feet fail me not 'cause maybe the only opportunity that I got

-Eminem, Lose Yourself

The mere mention of ‘Salem’s Lot has had my brain playing this song on repeat for weeks. And after reading ‘Salem’s Lot, I’d like to point out to Eminem that it’s actually quite difficult to grow old in ‘Salem’s Lot. You’re more likely to be turned into a creepy vampire than grow old and die of natural causes in The Lot. But I feel like if I were to ever address this with one Marshall Mathers, he’d punch me in the face. So I guess I’ll just rest comfortably with my superior Stephen King knowledge. 

This was my first reading of ‘Salem’s Lot, and while I enjoyed Carrie; I feel this was the book that made the Stephen King “style” a thing fans are all familiar with. I’m not going to dive into the entire plot and every character, but the format of the book, and the relationships the characters form will be familiar to all King fans. Let me explain.

Part One: The Introduction 

The book is divided into three parts. In Part One: Marsten House, we learn about the lovely little town of Jerusalem’s Lot, and start feeling a creeping sense of dread every time the Marsten House is mentioned. We don’t know why we feel creepy dread quite yet, but the feeling is lurking in our stomach like a slimy gas station burrito. We also experience a meet cute between Ben Mears and Susan Norton. Ben is a writer, hanging out at the park, trying to forget all the negativity and bad juju he experienced the first time he lived in ‘Salem’s Lot. But now he’s back, living at Eva Miller’s boarding house, working on his next novel. Susan sees him in the park, and just so happens to be reading one of his books. She asks for an autograph, and he inscribes it, “For Susan Norton, the prettiest girl in the park...” The rest is history. Well, vampire, bloodshed history. But romantic history none the less. 

Later on, Ben Mears references The Haunting of Hill House, which was an inspiration for this novel. He tells Susan the subject of his newest novel is,          ”...it’s about the recurrent power of evil...” Art imitating life, ammiright, Steve??? 

Part one also gives us our first (of three!) Wisconsin references. Ben decides to hit up the local watering hole, Dell’s, where he runs into fellow boarding house resident, Weasel Craig. To hear Ben describe it, “...his breath alone could have made Milwaukee famous.” I mean... we do love and brew a lot of beer in this city. But you can imagine my disappointment when in the next paragraph, Weasel orders a pitcher of Budweiser. Gross, Weasel, You deserve to be taken out by those vampires. 

Part one continues to give us plenty of local color, and describes the residents of the town (spoiler: don’t get too attached to any of them). Part one ends with some creepy goings-on at the cemetery, and some children disappearing, and later re-appearing in slightly alarming form. Oh, and a lot of bodies at the morgue start disappearing. Never a good sign. 

Part Two: The Dread Explained, and the Start of Shit Going Sideways 

Part Two: The Emperor of Ice Cream is when the beat drops. But before all of that, we have our final two Wisconsin references. King twice mentions a Packers Patriots game everyone in town is anxious to watch. Ok. I have questions. So many questions. How did Steve decide on this particular football match-up? We’re not division rivals, we don’t even play in the same division. The Packers and Patriots play each other once in a blue moon. Wouldn’t the Bills or the Jets have been a more sensible selection? Maybe the Dolphins? Maybe they were good back in 1975? I don’t know. I do know I personally love Packers/Patriots games because I love seeing Tom Brady pout like a little bitch on the sidelines when our inconsistent defense shows up and decides to tackle him. Repeatedly. It’s a miracle Brady doesn’t trip over that lower lip more.

But I digress. Part two is where shit really starts to go wrong, and we understand the problems plaguing ‘Salem’s Lot are the result of a powerful vampire, Mr. Barlow and his keeper, Mr Straker, moving into Marsten House. That’s right... it’s a vampire book, kids. These two keep a low profile by buying a creepy old murder house, and running an antique store full of old junk in town. As you do. 

King holds true to a lot of the traditional vampire stereotypes: they only come out at night, they are burned by sunshine, they sleep in coffins or boxes, they need to be invited in, and they can be repelled by a crucifix or some holy water. No glittery, pretty vamps here. Sorry, Twilight fans. This probs isn’t the book for you.

Part two of the book is filled with creepy passages full of suspense. You know, those parts when you find yourself cringing and chanting, “No! No! Don’t crawl into the creepy old murder house during the day! I don’t care if you think the vampires are sleeping! This isn’t going to end well!” I know most people have those moments when watching movies... but this book (and King in general) usually brings out all the creepy, cringy feels for me.

So, Ben, Susan, and their ragtag band of friends begin to understand the vampire problem, and realize they need to address it before everyone in town either flees, or becomes part of Barlow’s vampire army. One member of their merry band of vampire killers is a little boy by the name of Mark Petrie. Mark lost two of his best friends in the initial round of vampire attacks, and feels guilt about this. If they weren’t on their way to his house to play with his models, maybe they wouldn’t have ended up as part of the un-dead. As a result of this guilt, Mark wants to help the grownups fight the vampires. He’s a bad ass kid. I hope my kid would behave the same way if we were fighting a vampire onslaught in Milwaukee. 

King best sums up their crew of vampire killers as, “An old teacher half-cracked with books, a writer obsessed with his childhood nightmares, a little boy who has taken a post-graduate course in vampire lore from the films and the modern prenny-dreadfuls...” 

Accurate af. 

Part Two ends with a passage I have to share... “The ordinary fellow isn’t half so leery of the superatural as the fiction writers like to make out. Most writers who deal in that particular subject, as a matter of fact, are more hardheaded about spirits and demons and boogies than your ordinary man in the street...” 

Part Three: The Real Action, All the Deaths & the Conclusion

Part Three: The Deserted Village wraps everything up. Almost all the residents of ‘Salem’s Lot are turned into vampires, including almost all of the vampire hunters with the exception of Ben and Mark. They ‘nope’ right on out of ‘Salem’s Lot and head for Mexico. Because they’ve seen some shit, and they need to live in perpetual sunshine where they never have to fight vampires again. Only, Ben can’t stop reading the Portland Press-Herald and realizes shit is getting real in Maine again, and they eventually need to go back. Poor Mark; it’s bad enough he lost his friends, had to stake both his parents, and killed the vampire’s keeper. But now he needs to go back? Ugh. 

Part three also gives us two coveted Dark Tower references (because, The Beam). 

“Ann Norton drew the .38 from the pockets of her wrapper like some creaky gunslinger from beyond time...” 

Oh snap. It’s coming. Da da chick, da da chum! 

I’ve also failed to mention much about Father Callahan. He was the Catholic priest of ‘Salem’s Lot who suffered a vampire bite despite his crucifix and holy water bath, and was last seen on a bus getting out of town, drinking cheap truck stop liquor. But we’ll see him again. ‘Tis ka. 

All and all, a very satisfying book, and I’m very glad I’ve finally gotten around to reading it.

In summation:

Total King Wisconsin Mentions: 4

Dark Tower References: 2

Book Grade: B+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books:

Salem’s Lot

Carrie

Next up is The Shining; which is perfect since Wisconsin is expecting its first major snowfall this weekend. Fun times. 

Until next time- long days and pleasant night, readers!

Rebecca

[storywool]

Chalk it Up

Request:  The 100 Bellamy Blake imagine but about his twin sister? So there is Bell, the reader and Octavia.

A/N: this one is SUPER LONG because i had so much fun writing it! I’m definitely not done with the Blake Twins yet. lemme know what you’d like to see from them in any future parts :)) 

Word count: 5,360

“We know the rules: one child per family.” Marcus Kane said as he furrowed his brow in concentration. He eyed the members of the table. Abby Griffin was staring at the table, avoiding eye contact with Kane. He knew how she felt on the subject, but still sought her validation for some reason. Chancellor Jaha was stroking his chin, deep in concentration. The other council members stared at Kane blankly, for no one knew what to say in this situation.

“But what do we do when the family has twins?” Jaha asked.

Aurora Blake, a seamstress on the Ark, had become pregnant by a guard. The doctors in her sector had said she was having one child, but as she went into labor, she ended up having twins: a boy named Bellamy and a girl named Y/n. The Ark had reached an impasse. On one hand, Aurora had no way of controlling having twins, but on the other hand, those were the Ark’s rules. And the rules said one child per family.

“She didn’t choose to have twins. The fact that this is our first case of twins is a miracle,” Abby replied, “We can’t float the mother and kill one of the babies because of something they can’t control.”

Jaha was obviously thinking about the situation. Abby was right; how the Ark still didn’t have any protocols for dealing with twins was a mystery. He sat right up in his seat, as if the wheels turning in his head came to a halt.

“The mother and father aren’t together, correct?” Jaha asked.

Kane’s eyebrows furrowed even more as he shuffled through some papers laid out on the table. “Um, no. She’s a seamstress in sector five and the father- uh, Jonathan- is a guard in sector one.”

“So how’d they me-” One of the council members began, but Jaha cut him off.

“What if we give one of the babies to Aurora, and the other to Jonathan?” Abby sat forward in her seat, intrigued by the idea. Kane cleared his throat. He was unconvinced by this plan. Jaha sensed his uncertainty.

“The parents aren’t together. They live in different sectors. Neither of them had kids previously. We can change Jonathan’s schedule so he never sees Aurora and the other child.”

“You want to separate the twins?” Kane questioned.

“Better than killing one of them.” Abby responded. Jaha eyed the members of the council for reassurance.

“All in favor, raise your hand.”

The vote to separate the twins was almost unanimous, with Kane being the only one to vote against it. With a random drawing, it was decided that the girl, Y/n, would go to her father, and Bellamy would go to his mother. They would live their lives without knowing each other. Aurora and Jonathan were sworn to secrecy about the twins. They would grow up to be completely different people, living completely different lives. The Ark then put rules in place for any other cases of twins- both where the parents are together and where they are separated.

Y/n sat on the couch, watching a taped hockey game from the good old days of Earth. She was working on homework for her chemical engineering class when the front door opened with a bang. Y/n jumped up from her seat with a start to watch her dad stumble into the living room. Y/n didn’t even have to look him in the eye to know he was drunk.

Y/n’s dad, for lack of a better word, was a piece of shit. He was a guard on the Ark that abused his position to help himself. He used it to cheat the system and break the rules that he was supposed to uphold. He was drunk the majority of the time, and when he wasn’t drunk, he was yelling at Y/n for stuff she had no control over- like her mother’s death.

Y/n heard the story so many times that she could recite it in her sleep. Her mom, a seamstress, was a wonderful and kind woman who loved Jonathan. They weren’t married, but she got pregnant with Y/n. They were so excited to have a child, but her mom unfortunately died during childbirth. Since that day, all the love Y/n’s father felt for her mother was replaced by resentment toward Y/n.

“Oh look, it’s my good-for-nothing daughter.” Her dad slurred as he nearly tripped over the dining table.

“Oh look, it’s my piece of shit father. What’d you do today? Ruin some more lives?” She sat back down on the couch and picked up her homework.

“No, but I can ruin yours.”

She rolled her eyes. He really needed better comebacks. “You already have.” She mumbled under her breath. The only thing keeping her sane was the promise of moving when she passed her engineering test. She would move to the science station with her best friend, Raven Reyes. Her dad didn’t have clearance in the science station, and so she’d be truly free of him. All she had to do was pass that test, but she had Raven to help her study.

“What was that?” He said, the tone taking an almost demonic turn.

She shook her head. “Nothing, Dad. Go to bed.”

He stomped over to her and stood in front of the TV. “No, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m the parent, you’re the child.” Y/n looked up from her homework and into her dad’s red face. It was starting to turn redder as his rage progressed.

From there, hell seemed to unleash in their tiny apartment. So much happened at once that Y/n wasn’t completely sure how it all happened. She remembered her father’s fist colliding with her face, she remembered falling to the ground, and she remembered grabbing a knife off the coffee table. She didn’t, though, remember driving the knife into his leg, and her dad falling on top of her, hitting her over and over until she lost consciousness.

She woke up from her dream with a start. Sweat rolled down her forehead and she felt cold chills ravish through her body. She eyed the cell round her. She was safe. She was in her cell in the prison station. She had to remind herself that her dad was dead and that she was safe.

After the attack happened, Y/n woke up in the medical station, attached to an IV and her hands cuffed to the bed. Dr. Abby Griffin informed her that her dad was floated for child abuse and for stealing all of the supplies they found in the Y/L/n residency. After her bruises recovered, Y/n was thrown into Prison Station for keeping her dad’s theft and abuse of power a secret. She frequently had nightmares about her dad and that night. She had never seen something so hellish inside of a person before. She hated to admit it, but she was glad her dad was dead. She hated that all of her dreams of becoming an engineer were shattered, but at least that monster couldn’t torment her anymore.

Bellamy watched as they dragged his little sister away. They were on their way to throw her into Prison Station, and there was nothing he could do but watch. His mother cried at his side. The guards were very cruel in that they made Aurora watch as they dragged Octavia away before they took Aurora to the floating chambers.

“Bellamy, there’s something I need to tell you before I go.” His mother started. Her voice cracked as she spoke and tears continued to fall from her eyes. Bellamy felt himself tear up as well. She hesitated as she looked at her only son. Her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him and Octavia behind. She took his hands in hers and thumbed the rough skin gently.

“Bell- you have another sister.” She began, but the guards in the room heard her. She had broken her oath to Chancellor Jaha. They grabbed her by the waist and started to drag her out. “She’s your twin, Bell. Her name is Y/n. Find her and take care of her please. Please, Bell, do that for me!”

Bellamy could barely comprehend what his mother was saying. His mind was going at a million miles per minute. His sister was in jail, her mom was about to be floated, and he has a twin. He didn’t know what to do or say, so all he did was pull his mother into one last hug before she was carted away to her death.

From that day forward, he was determined to figure out who this Y/n was and what had happened to her. If his mom was telling the truth, why were they separated? Why did he not know?

The door to the Sky Box opened as the harrowing faces of the delinquents were brought in and strapped into seats that lined the walls. Y/n eyed all the people around her suspiciously. To her right was a kid with sunken cheeks and youthful eyes. Y/n had only ever talked to him once, but his name was Jasper, and he was nice. To her left sat Finn Collins, her best friend’s boyfriend.

“I wonder what’s going on.” He whispered.

“They’re sending us to the ground.” Y/n responded emotionlessly. She fidgeted with her hands.

Finn stared at her, his eyes wide. “Why would you say that?”

She shrugged, “Why else would they chip all of us and strap us into seats with these seatbelts?”

The door opened again and a girl with long brown hair, a beautiful face, and oddly familiar eyes entered the room. She was thrown into a seat roughly as a hush fell over the room. Every pair of eyes landed on her, but she paid particular attention to Y/n. They shared the same expression; they looked so much alike it was almost uncanny.

“That’s the floorboard girl.” Y/n heard Jasper say to his friend Monty. “Floorboard girl?” Y/n continued to stare.

“Yeah, her mom already had a kid. His name’s Bellamy, I think. Anyways, her mom hid her under the floorboards so no one would find out she existed.”

Y/n didn’t know why she had never heard about ‘floorboard girl’ before. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, for Chancellor Jaha’s smug face appeared on every screen in the vicinity, informing them that Y/n was right. They were going to the ground.

A few weeks had passed, and the ground was beginning to lose its appeal. They had no food, no water, little shelter, and no leadership. Everything was a mess, but they weren’t going to let that stop them from having a good time. In those two days, everyone was partying and having a good time, as if they weren’t on the ground. As if they weren’t susceptible to death every waking second. But Y/n knew they needed to get supplies from Mount Weather, or they were all going to die soon.

During those weeks, Y/n mostly stuck with Finn, who had completely seemed to forget his life on the Ark. He flirted heavily with Clarke Griffin, Dr. Griffin’s daughter, despite having a girlfriend back on the Ark. She had become friends with Jasper and Monty too, but they liked to hang out with Clarke a lot too. Y/n didn’t mind Clarke, but she wanted to get to know Octavia more. Octavia was so popular and liked that she never seemed to be alone, though. She was always with someone that Y/n didn’t quite know. She knew his name was Bellamy and that every girl had a crush on him, but she had never seen him. Y/n watched them interact as she tried to fix the radio back to the Ark.

Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew Octavia and Bellamy, despite never having met them before. They both looked the same (obviously), but they also weirdly had similar features to Y/n. They both had the same eyes as her. Aside from physical similarities, especially between Y/n and Bellamy, she felt a strange and invisible connection tying them together. It was almost like that connection one has to their siblings; it’s invisible and intangible, but real.

Bellamy could feel Y/n’s eyes watching them. “Who’s that girl over there?”

“The one who keeps staring?” Octavia sarcastically said, not looking up from her work, “I don’t know much about her. Her name’s Y/n though.”

Bellamy’s blood ran cold. His mind immediately flooded back to the memories of the day his mom was floated. “Wait, Y/n?”

Octavia shrugged and rolled her eyes, “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Octavia looked up at her brother, who had gone rigid. Bellamy felt his stomach turn and his throat close. Was this the girl his mom as talking about?

“Bell, what’s wrong?” Octavia asked. She reached out for her brother’s arm and squeezed. His eyes shone with unshed tears at the memory of that day. The ghost of his mom’s screams filled his ears, and the words she spoke felt etched on his skin. ‘She’s your twin’.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw as he spoke, “O…after you were taking to Prison Station and before Mom got floated, she told me something.” He glanced over at Y/n, who was now focused on the radio in front of her. “I have a twin.”

Octavia dropped the materials in her hands and stared at her brother with her mouth agape. “Wait, what? Are you shitting me?”

“The Ark’s rules say one child per family. I think they gave me to Mom, and Y/n, if that’s her,” He motioned to her, “went with my dad.”

Octavia bit the end of her thumb nervously as she thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Octavia whispered. “She told me after you were imprisoned. When we came to the ground, I never thought I’d have a chance of potentially seeing her…if that is her, so it never occurred to me to tell you. I mean, I’ve never heard of anyone named Y/n, and you have to admit she looks a lot like us.”

They sat in silence for a second. Octavia knew Bellamy was trying to absorb what was going on, and Octavia’s mind was ruminating over this new information. She did look a lot like both of them. Octavia remembered the first time she saw Y/n, and how her first thought was how the resemblance was uncanny. Better yet, if this was her, that meant Bellamy had a twin, and she had a sister.

“Well go talk to her.” Octavia prodded.

“What no! What would I even say? Hey, I’m your twin brother. We didn’t know about each other because the Ark made our parents split up and never talk about us.”

“Yes Bellamy, go up to her and say exactly that.” Octavia rolled her eyes, “No, go up to her and talk to her like she’s a normal human being.”

Bellamy ran his hands through his hair. He fidgeted with the sleeves on his jacket before taking a deep breath and moving toward Y/n. He walked up to her and she stared up at him. He felt like he was looking in a mirror. Her eyes were the same hardened brown, her skin olive, and her hair fell past her shoulders in chocolate curls. She was petite (like Octavia, Bellamy thought) and muscular. If he didn’t think she was his sister, he’d even say she was attractive. He was staring down at her when he realized he had no idea what to say to her.

Y/n could sense his hesitation. She was feeling the same nervousness as he was, and they both could feel it. She cleared her throat, “Uh, can I help you?”

Bellamy coughed into his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He avoided eye contact with her. “Um, I uh…we were uh-,” He stammered. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he form sentences?

“You’re Bellamy, right?” Y/n asked, helping this poor guy out. He was so nervous for some reason, Y/n noticed. She thought it was kind of sweet; the big bad leader couldn’t even talk to her.

He nodded, and she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took it and grasped it in a tight grip. Something about the touch felt electric; it was shocking, but Y/n and Bellamy couldn’t seem to pull away.

“Can I ask you something kind of crazy?” She started. Bellamy chuckled and nodded, “I’m sorry, I know this is really weird, but I feel like I know you from somewhere.” She shook her head as she spoke. As the words escaped her lips, she realized how dumb they sounded.

“Actually, I was just thinking the same thing.” Bellamy replied. He didn’t want to come right out and say that they might be related, because what if he had the wrong person? He couldn’t have the wrong person though; she looked just like him. She smiled like he did, her eyes shone like his did, and she even scratched the back of her neck nervously like he did.

“What sector are- were- you from?” She asked.

“Five, what about you?”

“One.”

“Oh, you’re a high born.” He joked. He always had a problem with people from sector one. After all, guards from sector one were the reason his mom got floated.

“My dad was a guard who got floated for child abuse and for stealing stuff from people from other sectors. So ‘high born’ is a bit of a stretch.” Y/n responded coyly. Bellamy raised an eyebrow and his heart sank. She just admitted that her dad, (their dad?), abused her. “But that doesn’t explain why I would know you. Different sectors…hmm… what was your profession?”

“I was a guard in training until my sister got captured and my mom floated...then I was a janitor.” He responded, staring at his hands. Y/n smiled sheepishly. They both came from messed up backgrounds. But that still didn’t explain why she felt like she knew him.

“I was an engineer, so unless you trained in sector one, we would have never met.”

“At least we’re meeting now.” Bellamy chuckled. Y/n smiled and nodded in agreement. Despite the obvious nervous air, they both talked to each other so casually- like Y/n would if she were talking to Finn or Raven.

But then Bellamy began to panic. Every part of his body wanted to come right out and say that they were twins that were separated at birth, but a very miniscule part of him wanted him to keep his mouth shut. He took the seat next to her.

“Maybe it’s because we look a lot alike?” Bellamy prompted after a moment of comfortable silence. Y/n examined him more. They did look so much a like it was uncanny. Y/n remembered reading somewhere about doppelgangers, but this felt different. This wasn’t just coincidentally similar characteristics; it ran deeper than that, but Y/n couldn’t explain it.  

“I’m really glad you think that too. I was gonna say that but didn’t want to sound weird.”

They sat in silence for a second as they both thought of what to say next. Y/n wanted to ask him a million questions at once, and Bellamy was trying to come up with a good way of telling her the truth.

“Okay, I’m gonna say something that’s going to sound absolutely ridiculous, but I need you to trust me.” He started. Y/n felt her anxiety increase exponentially as Bellamy began to act more serious. Bellamy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He used his hands as he talked. “When my mom was floated for having a second child,” he motioned over to Octavia, “she told me something. Something that she was never supposed to tell me, but she was about to die, so she told me anyways.”

“Bellamy, why-” Y/n started, but Bellamy continued over her.

“She told me I have a twin sister…named Y/n.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. “Bellamy, that’s ridiculous. You out of all people know the Ark’s rules. One child.”

“Yeah, but what happens when it’s one pregnancy and two kids?” Bellamy insisted. Y/n had to admit, she had never heard of the Ark’s rules in relationship to twins. That still didn’t mean what Bellamy said was true.

“My mom always told me that my dad was a guard from sector one that had a family of his own. That’s why he left.”

What his mom had told him, if they were twins, wouldn’t have been a complete lie. Her dad was a guard who had his own family, technically. She thought back to the story her dad would tell her: her mom was a seamstress who died during childbirth. “What did your mom do for a living?” Y/n asked.

“She was a seamstress.”

Y/n’s never felt her entire world stop spinning before, but she imagined that it felt a lot like this moment. What he was saying sounded ridiculous, but Y/n knew he wouldn’t be saying it unless he was being serious, and too much of his story was adding up for it to all be happenstance. She stared at him, her mouth agape. Her insides ran cold.

“My dad always said my mom was a seamstress who died during childbirth. He blamed me for her death.”

Bellamy’s heart was starting to race. “This can’t all be coincidence Y/n,” Bellamy whispered, “The Ark didn’t have that many seamstresses from sector five that had a child with a guard from sector one.”

Y/n was becoming frustrated. Not at Bellamy, but because she was confused. If what Bellamy was saying was true, why did she get stuck with her dad? Why weren’t they allowed to meet? Who decided their fates for them?

Y/n sat up straight and moved to pull her left sleeve up to expose her wrist. “I read in my biology class that twins have shared characteristics that only they share, like birthmarks or freckle patterns.” She held her wrist out for Bellamy; on the inside was a crescent shaped birthmark. “My dad used to call me ‘moon child’ because of how unique this birthmark was.”

Bellamy’s breath hitched in his throat. He pulled up the sleeve on his right arm to show the practically identical birthmark on his right wrist. They stared at each other in amazement.

“Still think this is all a crazy coincidence?” Bellamy asked.

Y/n stared into his eyes. She didn’t know what to say or do next. She wanted to believe Bellamy, but she couldn’t chalk all of this up to the way things appeared to be. She needed proof, genetic proof. That was something they couldn’t get on the ground. Y/n stood up and began to pace back and forth.

“What are you thinking?” Bellamy questioned, hoping to get her to stop pacing. Without responding to him, Y/n moved to take off in the opposite direction, toward the drop ship. Bellamy jumped up from his spot and went to follow her. He passed by Octavia, who began to ask him what was going on, but he just shrugged and continued walking.

Inside the drop ship, Bellamy saw Y/n run up the ladder that led to the second floor. He quickly trailed her up the ladder. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

“Monty, have you gotten communication back with the Ark?” She practically yelled to her friend. He nervously nodded yes. “Good because they’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Without further questions, Monty moved from his spot to the video camera that he had rigged. He tapped a few buttons, moved a few things around, and began making the call to the Ark. “Do you want me to stay?” He asked. While he had a thousand things running through his head, he wanted to make sure she was okay more than anything.

“No that’s okay,” She stared into his concerned eyes, “I’ll explain later.”

Monty rose from his seat and exited the drop ship. Bellamy closed the latch behind him. Whatever Y/n was doing, he knew she needed to do it in private. “Will you explain to me what you’re doing now?”

“I need real proof. The only way we’re gonna get that is through Jaha.”

Jaha’s stoic, annoyingly optimistic face appeared on the big screen. Y/n felt Bellamy go rigid next to her, but she didn’t know why. She shook it off, though. Behind Jaha were Abby Griffin and Marcus Kane, who both looked anxiously into the screen. Y/n knew they were hoping to see Clarke, not the daughter of a child abuser and son of a woman who hid a child under her floorboard.

“Y/n Y/L/n, Bellamy Blake,” Jaha greeted, “Not the faces we were expecting to see.”

“I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me to be here,” Y/n replied.

“How are things going on the ground?” Abby asked.

Y/n explained in as little detail as possible all the things that had been happening on the ground from the Grounders to their failed attempt to find Mount Weather. Y/n started to bounce her leg anxiously. “But that’s not why I’m- we’re- calling.”

“Oh?” Jaha said, sitting up in his seat a little straighter.

“What are the Ark’s rules about twins?” Y/n asked bluntly. She had no time to waste on pleasantries and small talk anymore. The three council members traded an uneasy glance. “After we’re finished here, I’ll answer whatever questions you have about the ground in depth. But first, I need you all to answer my questions.”

Jaha felt a shock swim through his body. He realized why her face was so familiar, and he hated that he had honestly forgot about Y/n and Bellamy, the twins separated at birth. He had also completely forgotten that they were on the ground together. Jaha sat forward and crossed his hands on the table in front of him. “Y/n,” He began.

“What are the Ark’s rules about twins?” She restated. She wasn’t messing around, and it honestly made Bellamy feel proud. If this was his sister, at least she was a total badass.

“In the event that the parents are together, at a random draw, one of the children would be put up for adoption.”

“What about when the parents aren’t together?”

“In the event-” Jaha started.

“Jaha, she doesn’t want to know about the Ark’s rules.” Kane said, cutting the chancellor off.

Y/n reached up to wipe a rogue tear off her face. She tried to do it fast enough so Bellamy wouldn’t see it. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder as she spoke, “Kane, you’re right. I don’t want to know about the Ark rules. I want to know the truth about my family.”

Jaha sent Abby to get Y/n and Bellamy’s birth records. He sent Kane to handle something that Y/n didn’t quite catch, but it appeared that Jaha just didn’t want him in the room. When the coast was clear, Jaha began to open up about everything. “When Aurora Blake became pregnant, the doctor said she was only having one child, but fifteen minutes after Bellamy was born, Y/n was born too. We didn’t know what to do. We couldn’t kill the mother and one of the children for a biological mishap…” Bellamy sat on the chair next to Y/n, his heart heavy at the news. They both only partially listened to Jaha explain how Y/n was picked to stay with the father and how the council members made the parents keep their existences a secret from one another.

“I know what we did to you both seems unfair, but it was the only solution we could think of that kept both of you alive.” Jaha concluded. Y/n felt a rage boiling inside her that she hadn’t felt since the night her dad nearly beat her to death. She wanted to scream, cry, punch, anything to make Jaha feel the pain she was feeling right now.

“Jaha, what you did to us is more than just unfair. I don’t think you know what it’s like to not know where you come from, to not know who your mother is, to feel like a part of you is missing your entire life only to find out it’s because you have a twin that you didn’t know about.” Y/n’s voice began to crack as she held back tears, “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to imagine the feeling of finding out that the only reason you lived with an abuser was because you got the short stick. You didn’t just keep Bellamy and I away from each other, you rewrote our fates. You forced us into our situations.” Y/n was fuming, and Bellamy couldn’t blame her. He felt a rage within him that he had never felt before. But he also felt a sense of relief; that the part of him that was missing this whole time now had the capability to be fulfilled. They couldn’t change the past, but at least they had each other now.

“I don’t understand your pain, and I never will,” Jaha said. Y/n noticed a tear roll down his cheek. She had almost completely forgotten about his son Wells, who died just a few weeks after being on the ground. All this talk of children was probably bringing all of those memories back. “I cannot fix what the council decided that day. All I can do is hope that since you both have found each other, you can find some peace within your past.”

With that, Jaha told Y/n to call back tomorrow so Jaha could ask her all of their questions, but he wanted to give Y/n and Bellamy some time to process what had happened. Jaha signed off, leaving Y/n and Bellamy to the silence of the drop ship. Bellamy stood up from his seat and began pacing. Y/n sat frozen in her spot. She looked up at Bellamy, at her brother and began to cry. It wasn’t violent, but it was emotional and raw. Every emotion she suppressed because of her father came back to the surface, and it hurt.

The latch of the drop ship opened as Finn poked his head through. “Hey Y/n-”

“Not now Finn!” Bellamy and Y/n yelled at the same time. They traded each other a fierce glance. Was this their life now? Doing the stereotypical things twins do? Finn held his hands up in surrender and disappeared almost as fast as he appeared.

After Finn left, the only sound was of Y/n’s muffled cries and Bellamy’s stifled tears. He didn’t want to cry, but his emotions were overwhelming. He didn’t know if he wanted to hug Y/n, run away, or just continue to sit in the, what was becoming unbearable, silence. He moved over to Y/n’s side, took a seat, and took her shaking hand in his hands. He stroked the back of her palm gently.

“How are you not freaking out about this?” Y/n whispered to Bellamy, who had yet to shed a visible tear. She used her other hand to wipe some tears from her eyes.

“Trust me, I am. I’m just not as good at showing it.”

She let one more tear roll down her face before she forced herself to stop crying. “What do we do now, twin?” Bellamy hummed like he was thinking. “What’s your favorite movie?”

Y/n laughed and shook her head, “Um, well, I’m a sucker for the Harry Potter movies.”

Bellamy chuckled and smiled widely. “Don’t tell anyone, but me too.”

They sat like that for what felt like hours; they talked about anything and everything from their favorite foods to what their opinions were on Clarke as a leader. They knew that they would have to eventually face the real world and tell the others the news, especially Octavia, but they wanted to live in this moment. They wanted to experience this by themselves, since it was robbed from them as children.

“Oh god…” Y/n murmured.

“What?”

“We’re gonna have to tell Finn. He’s gonna lose his shit…”