#//hey I’m Noah I’m a minor and use anything other than she/her

[radiosilence-kjrp]

Not much is known about the individuals running the station called “Radio Silence*”. Remain vigilant around these killjoys—violence has not been observed, but is always possible.

*A radio station based in The Zones with broadcasts showcasing bizarre statements and banned music. Unsure of where it is located.

[what-if-i-just-did]

Guilt & Revenge: Collapsed Building

Whumptober, Day 24: Collapsed Building

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist

Not really any whump this time, sorry guys. Instead- Meet Jake!!! Finally!! I'm sure you've seen mentions of the guy, but here he is! Also I love writing Amber's backstory... he's such a blorbo fr. Anyways hope ya'll enjoy and lmk to be added to the taglist!

TWs: underage drinking under supervision of an adult (no alcohol abuse), breaking into an abandoned building, jokingly ageist banter (teenagers calling a 27yo old in good fun), joking threats of physical violence, collapsed wall, and mentions of implied bad childhood, teenager living on their own, death, phone endangerment, customer service, and misgendering (said by a cis girl)

“Are you sure this is safe? There isn’t.. mold or anything, right?” Noah-Elise spoke in an uneasy voice. Understandable, considering she didn’t do things like this a lot.

“Sweetie, this building has been abandoned for over a decade. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t mold.” Jake had a smirk on his face, per usual. “Amber, need a leg up?”

“As if.”, Amber said, easily following Noah-Elise over the fence. “How about you, old man? Will your knees survive?”

Jake followed Amber just as easily. “You know I’m only twenty-seven, right?”

“Still over a decade more than us.” Amber wandered off to go explore, vaguely hearing Noah-Elise’s “hey, be nice-”. They were in a fairly large, mostly open space. There was a lot of random debris lying about, and everything was covered in dust. There were cracks in some places along the bare concrete walls and floor. A bunch of rotting wooden crates were stacked on eachother on the far left end of the space. Pieces of glass and wire and small unidentifiable things littered the floor. All in all, not particularly interesting, but fun enough just by the virtue of it being forbidden. It was quite near midnight, and technically this counted as breaking in.

“Yo, Am. Beer?" 

Amber turned around to see Jake shrugging his backpack off his shoulders and unzipping it.

He signed “sure”, but out loud he said: “You brought beer? Really man?”

Jake handed him one. “I don’t see you complaining. Noah-Elise?”

“Nope. I’m not drinking until I’m twenty-one.” She signed along with her words, and side-eyed the offered can.

“More for us.”, Jake shrugged. He’d signed along with his words too, and Amber chuckled when he realized Jake’d done that subconsciously. He opened the can and took a swig. 

Amber wasn’t good enough at grammar yet to really be able to follow along when they signed and spoke at the same time too much, although they did it sometimes for practice.

The three of them spent a few hours switching between talking and signing, messing around.

Noah-Elise slowly loosened up, although she continued to mother him and Jake a bit, as always.

“You know I could get into real trouble if we get caught? This is breaking and entering, giving a minor alcohol, probably child endangerment or some shit.”

Amber grinned. “And yet you do it anyway.”

��Cuz I love you little fuckers. But if you don’t give me back my phone now, Am, I’m throwing you against that wall.”

Amber looked at the indicated wall, then looked back and raised an eyebrow. “You’re throwing a minor up against a wall? Kinky.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “More like child abuse. Now give me my phone.”

“Same thing. Catch!” Amber threw the phone gently, and was completely prepared for the string of expletives that Jake threw at him in return. 

Jake had caught the phone, of course. Amber would never actually try to break it. 

“I don’t think you’d even be able to throw me against the wall anyways. You’re probably not strong enough.”, he teased.

“Oh yeah? Frickin’ watch me- “ “Boys? Let’s not throw each other against walls? I’m sure you can find something else to throw to prove your point, there’s tons of shit here.”

And thank whomever listens for Noah-Elise, their singular brain cell.

Grumbling, Jake went off to find something to throw at the wall. 

“Thanks, Noah-Elise. I dread to think how any of us would be off without you.”, Amber said.

She took a second to respond, pretending to think it over. “Hmmm. Dead in a ditch, probably.”

“Yeah.” Amber said forlornly. He quickly took another sip of his second beer, hiding his expression. They were having a good time, with enjoyable banter. No need to get negatively nostalgic now. He’d been living on his own for a year, he had people in his life that loved him, he was finally in a good place. 

Jake came back not too much later with a heavy-looking plant pot. It had some form of dead plant in it, but Amber couldn’t quite tell- and honestly really didn’t care. “Here. Look, I can throw - “

The sound of the impact swallowed the rest of Jake’s sentence, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on it, considering that a split second later, the wall collapsed, taking a good chunk of the ceiling with it. 

For a few seconds, Amber was paralyzed with fear, trying to find the source of the danger. When his mind caught up, he called out. “Holy shit, ya’ll okay?”

He did a check check of himself- his clothes were dirty as hell and he had a few scrapes, but he seemed alright. Further examination could wait.

Noah-Elise coughed a few times, and signed “I think I’m okay”. 

Jake quickly did the sign for “same”/”me too”, then looked over at Amber. “You?”

Amber copied the sign absentmindedly. He started laughing. “Damn. Holy shit. Okay. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan..” Noah-Elise said.

They left quickly, all a bit shaken up, but overall alright.

“Fuck, now I need a shower.” Amber muttered. Jake somehow picked up on it and laughed.

“Hey, do me a favor, both of you? Promise me you’ll never tell Dave about this?”

“Deal”

Amber and Noah-Elise said it at the same time. It caused another round of infectious laughter to spread among them as they walked. Despite the fright, the night still ended well. 

Or, well. Amber groaned as he realized he had work in the morning.

“Nobody should have to deal with a customer service job after getting -”, he checked his phone, “less than four hours of sleep. It’s torture. Actually, I take that back, nobody should have to deal with a customer service job, period. Customer service is torture. Oh, sure, laugh at my pain.” Amber huffed.

“I’m only laughing cause I know the struggle, man. It’s just funny hearing it from someone who I’ve known since he was like thirteen. You’re making me feel old, dude.”

“If that makes you feel old, you should realize we were born in 2005.”, Noah-Elise piped up.

Jake stopped dead in his tracks. 

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, we were.” Amber couldn’t contain his amusement.

“That’s unfair, man. That’s low.”

Noah-Elise dramatically gasped. “You’re misgendering me?”

“Since when do you care if I call you man or bro or shit like that?”, Jake countered.

“Since never.”

“Exactly.”

“Uh huh.” Noah-Elise responded.

“What?”, Jake said, in a tone like he’d been silently accused of something.

“Nothing.”, came out among giggles.

“No, what?”

Amber and Noah-Elise were laughing. “Nothing!!”, she insisted.

Jake stared at them for a second. 

“Fucking teenagers.”, he said as he walked off.

[shhlima]

Congratulations EVA, you have been accepted into the University of Lima as JANE HAYWARD !! To keep your spot at UoL, make sure that you send us your account within 24 HOURS and complete the CHECKLIST. But beware, Shady Lima is just waiting to expose your secret!

OOC INFO

NAME/ALIAS: eva PRONOUNS: she/her AGE: 33 TIMEZONE: cst ACTIVITY LEVEL: 8/10 PREVIOUS RP BLOG: [redacted] TRIGGER(S): none ANYTHING ELSE?: nope!

INTRODUCTION

Hey, Lima, I’m JANE HAYWARD but everyone calls me JANE, I identify as a CIS WOMAN and use SHE/HER pronouns. I was born on JULY 16TH making me TWENTY years old and a CANCER. Most people call me the ACTIVIST, maybe that’s because I am PASSIONATE but also JUDGMENTAL. If I had to describe my vibe, I would say it revolves around SPIRITED DEBATES, DESIGNER PANTSUITS, & 80S HORROR FILMS. Of course there is one thing I hope no one ever finds out, and that's MY PARENTS ARE PAYING PUCK OFF TO CONCEAL THE FACT THAT I’M HIS BABY MAMA. Anyway, on a more fun note, people always say I look like ZARIA SIMONE .

FAMILY INFORMATION

HOMETOWN: westerville, ohio FAMILY: hayward TYPE OF SIBLING: full BIRTH ORDER: middle PARENTS STATUS: yes POSSIBLE SIBLINGS: full or adopted

SCHOOL DATA

YEAR IN SCHOOL: sophomore MAJOR/MINOR: political science EXTRACURRICULARS: glee, GSA LIVING QUARTERS: 2 br apartment with bree OCCUPATION: what is a job when your family is wealthy?

HEADCANONS

Growing up, the Haywards expected perfection from their children, and Jane was always one to comply with whatever was asked of her. After all, they were wealthy and given all sorts of advantages as children, such as music and dance lessons, creative summer camps, vacations that were both luxurious and educational. It only felt right to soak up the vast opportunities being presented to them, so by high school, Jane had never gotten any grade lowered than an A, could play multiple instruments, had been in show choir for years, had a dance background, and had developed a knack for fighting for what was right.

Call her a feminist, a social justice warrior, an activist — it's all true. After her parents had to sue the all boys' academy that her father and uncle attended for high school just to get her enrolled, Jane grew passionate about fighting for women's rights, as well as the rights for any and every one that was ever discriminated against or unjustly mistreated by the law. She's constantly attending protests, she started a Ride Home program as a teen that allows sober teenage girls to drive drunk girls home from parties to keep them safe, and she's regularly forcing her parents' friends to donate to important organizations and to even help the wrongly accused in Ohio hire good lawyers instead of public defenders. For her parents, this is practice for the political journey they plan to see her go through on her road to becoming the first female president, which is their goal for her whether Jane truly wants it or not.

One summer, Jane met one Noah Puckerman at a party, and him taking her virginity turned into her getting pregnant. The Haywards were not about to allow their gifted daughter be a teen mom, so they told everyone that she'd signed up for a study abroad program, while she was really staying with relatives on Martha's Vineyard and being homeschooled to conceal her pregnancy. Her family wanted her to either abort the baby or give it up for adoption, but Jane asked Puck what he wanted and Puck chose to keep their baby, a daughter they named Maya.

Thus the other part of the secret was born: in exchange for keeping Maya and raising her without their side of the family being involved, the Haywards pay Puck to keep the identity of Maya's mother a secret. Jane doesn't like it per se, but she also knows better than to go against her parents, so she's kept her word to stay out of her daughter's life and let Puck raise her alone. To do that, she didn't come home after she had Maya or after she got her diploma, enrolling in the University of Massachusetts at Amherst to keep distance between her family.

Unluckily for Jane, she spent her first year of college partying and drinking to get rid of her mom guilt, and for the first time in her life, she'd even failed a few classes. Her parents were pissed, as one would expect, so they made her take a year off afterwards to get her shit together. Now, she's getting back to her old self, and her parents thought it was time she come back to Lima so they could keep her on track.

[spexialvixtimxunit]

200 Follower Special 🤪🎉

Second Thoughts? [2/2]

Pairing: Olivia Ben son x Black!Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight mentions of the word ‘homophobic’, age gap (Olivia is slightly older than you), descriptive smut, slight Angst to smut, and Oral sex.

Length: Semi long

Word Count: 2K

Masterlist

READ PART ONE BEFORE READING

S/n - sibling name

Here is part 2 of Second thoughts because I felt like I left y'all on a cliffhanger lolz. I forgot to mention that around season 15-17 Olivia is in her late 40s and the reader is in their early 30s and Noah is still an infant(ish).

***THERE ARE SPELLING ERRORS, I FORGET TO PROOFREAD***

-

You smiled at Olivia and she smiled back. The nurse knocked on the door and you opened it being next to it.

"Hello. Because your injury is minor, we are going to let you go back home and send some pain medication with you. Don't lift anything heavy and get some rest. Your doctor should be here in a couple of minutes to give you your release papers." The nurse announced.

"Okay, thank you." Your mother replied on behalf of your grandmother. "I guess it's time for us to go home." You said while letting out a yawn. "Well you already know where I live and I turned your bedroom into a guest bedroom. Here is a spare key to the house so that you can take the baby to bed."

"Hey R/n, do you want me to take Noah? I'm sure you and Olivia are exhausted from waking up early and driving a long way here." Your sibling asked You look over to Olivia and she nodded in approval.

You handed Noah to Olivia and she softly placed him in his car seat. You collected the spare key from your Mother and muttered a thank you. You grabbed all of your stuff and headed out to your car so that you could go to your mother's house.

"Olivia, I'll drive." You muttered while putting the rest of the stuff in the trunk of your car. S/n was parked next to you and took Noah's bag and put it in their car. Olivia buckled Noah’s car seat in their car and closed the door and Olivia sat in the passenger side."When is the next time Noah eats?" S/n asked. "The next time he eats is at-" You paused to check the time.

"It's 9 am now so around 11-ish. If he starts to get fussy before his feeding time he has some soft teething puffs to snack on. His toys are in there and he has extra clothes and diapers just in case if he has an accident or anything. Other than that he's good, Call us if you have any questions."

You opened Noah's door and kissed him. "All right Noah, you're going with S/n now. Be a good boy for Mommy and Mama okay? I love you so much, my little angel." Noah smiled as you gave him one last kiss. "Mama loves you." You waved goodbye and closed the door.

"We're probably going to go to the park by the house then go shopping for the little one" S/n said through their car window. "Okay, that's fine with me. Call me if you need anything." You waved with a smile at S/n and watched them drive off. You hopped in the front seat of your car and started to drive off.

The ride was silent until you broke it with a question. “So, what did my mother talk to you about? I hope it wasn’t something too crazy because my whole family is crazy.” Olivia chuckled.

“She just asked how we met and that’s it. I’m a detective so I can sense when someone is trying to read me or intimidate me. Surprisingly, she didn’t ask much but I told her that she should be happy for you and that your sexuality was none of her concern."

"I guess that makes sense," you hummed out your response. "I'm sorry in advanced if she says anything offensive because they are very conservative and homophobic." you said quietly.

Olivia sighed, "It's fine my love. You don't have to worry about anyone hurting my feelings because I have tough skin. Homophobic words won't hurt me. I've been called much worst and I've dealt with the homophobic parents when their gay son or daughter came out to them. No words will change the way that I feel about you, my love. I will always love you no matter what."

Your eyes swelled with tears. She was always so good to you and it was slightly overwhelming because you had your fair share of failed relationships. Some that you just knew wouldn't last forever, but this one would.

In all your other relationships you didn’t even think you could get married. Olivia was so enticing and it made you think that maybe she was the one. She was the one who asked you out first and it had been a while since you’ve been in a relationship.

-*flashback*-

You were working at your job at a library, stacking books on shelves on a ladder because the library had the nerve to have the bookshelves extremely high due to the high rise ceiling.

“Excuse me” you heard a soft voice calling to your attention. You looked down to see an older woman with a police badge. “One second.” You said while placing the rest of the book back on the chart.

You climbed down the ladder. The older woman hovered her hands over your waist, not wanting you to fall. You so happened to wear a comfortable low flow dress that was somewhat long and it would be embarrassing if you tripped.

“Thank you.” You said while straightening your skirt. You then had your undivided attention on the older woman. "How can I help you..." "Sergeant, Sergeant Benson, I working the sex crimes unit." The older woman stated. "How can I help you, Sergeant Benson?" You questioned.

"Hi, we are looking for this person during our investigation. We were wondering if you've seen them." Sergeant Denson said while showing an investigation photo of a young adult.

"Yeah, I've seen them once or twice in here. I remember them specifically because I checked out a book for them and it was some sort of Biology book. I could check the sign-in sheet if you like." You requested.

"Yes, that would be great. Thanks." Sergeant Benson replied with a soft smile. You smiled back then went to search for the sign-in sheet. "Here it is. Would you like for me to copy this for you?" You questioned. "Yes, that would be great." Sergeant Benson grinned. You nodded and copied the sheet of paper.

It was quiet around you except for the copy machine. "I'm not sure if this is professional or not but I think you look beautiful in that dress." Sergeant Benson whispered. "T-Thank you." you slightly stuttered. That completely caught you off guard.

You haven't got complimented in a while so this one caught you off guard since it was out of the blue. The copy machine finished and you handed the paper to Sergeant Benson. "Thank you." She said and smiled at you.

"Here's my card just in case the person shows up again or if you have any questions." Sergeant handed you her business card and walked out of the building. "Who was that?" Your friend that works with you asked.

"No one." You said with a smile on your face. "That wasn't no one by the way you're smiling. I saw them flirting with you." Your friend smirked while nudging your arm.

"Okay fine. It was the Sergeant from the 16th precinct and they were asking questions for investigation purposes." You stated while putting the business card in your pocket. Two weeks later Sergeant Benson asked you out and the rest is history.

-*end of flashback*-

"Why are you crying, my love?" Olivia chuckled while wiping her tears. "God you're so good to me and I'm so glad that we met because I have no idea where I would be without you. I hate crying but everything about you makes me so happy to be in your presence. It just so happened that we met at the right time and I needed that because I haven't felt the same love you give me in a long time and now I'm rambling-" Your voice came out with a shaky tone while you desperately tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

Olvia let out a soft laugh. "You're cute when you ramble." "I'm sorry. It's just a bit overwhelming at the moment and a lot to worry about." You apologized. "No no. It's fine. You don't have to apologize to me I completely understand." Olivia responded while softly stroking your thigh.

"When we get to your mother's house we can lay down and just relax. We do have the house to ourselves so..." Olivia smirked. "Olivia! We are not doing what you are thinking in my mother's house!" You said shocked. "I wasn't implying anything~"

She said while still stroking your leg. "I don't care. Keep those lewd thoughts to yourself." You said while swatting her hand away. Olivia just responded with a laugh.

-

You arrived at your mother's house exhausted. "Well, this is it." You said while looking at Olivia. "It's a beautiful house" You sighed "It may look beautiful but it was hell growing up here." You got out of the car and walked up to the front door to unlock it.

Once you stepped in you showed Olivia around the house. After that, you showed her your old bedroom which is now a guest bedroom. "Here is my old room." It was a somewhat spacious room for one person. You threw your bag on the floor, took off your shoes and laid down on the bed.

You huffed and closed your eyes. So much has happened within a couple of hours and your body could not handle this much work. You cracked your eyes open as you felt a dip in the bed from Olivia setting down next to you.

"How do you feel?" She asked while holding your hand. You left out another huff. "Overwhelmed. I need a hot shower and a long nap." Olivia laughed at your comment. You suddenly got up and kissed Olivia.

Olivia was taken back but she complied and kissed you back, pulled you closer towards her body. Olivia grabbed your legs and placed your body up to straddle her waist. You wrapped your arms around her neck, melting into her.

Olivia let out a groan as she gripped your waist closer towards hers, wanting to feel your touch. Olivia pulled away, letting out a huff, “Can your shower wait?” She asked slightly aroused.

“I have to get naked anyways. I don’t see why not.” You smirked at the reaction on her face. Her eyes widened at your sudden behavior. “What happened to me keeping my lewd thoughts to myself?” She snickered as she could tell that you were aroused as well.

“Well, maybe I changed my mind.” You gave her a peck on the lips with a smile. “Is that a yes?” Olivia asked politely. “Absolutely.” You responded with a grin. Olivia bit down on her lip, feeling the excitement heightened.

You stripped off your bottoms and so did she. “We have to be quick, I don't know how long we'll have the house to ourselves so you can't be too loud.” You told Olivia quietly as you laid down on the bed.

Olivia laughed "Are you sure you should be the one to tell me to be quiet when in reality, it's you who screams my name?" Olivia inched forward towards your hooded area, her face nearly centimeters away from devouring you.

Her face plunged into your heat, swallowing greedily as satisfaction flooded upon your body. Her mouth was something you treasured during her intimate moment with you. Your physique was something she adored and your sounds were something like no other.

No one else could easily fulfill the passion that her body went through as she was with you. Your body would always be satisfied with her. Her body would always be satisfied with you. Your body always grew hot from her touch, pushing the passion of lust farther to its limit.

“Olivia....” You whispered out, feeling yourself come undone from the assault her mouth was performing on your heated area. Your hands gripped a hand full of her hair, feeling the rush run you over like a mack truck.

She pulled away and lathered you in kisses, making you taste yourself as she positioned herself onto you. Olivia thrusted her hips back and forth, causing both of you moans to mix. The time was cut short as the pleasure flowed through both of you, causing you both to cum.

Heavy breaths filled the small room as Olivia laid her body down next to yours. Your heartbeat sounded loud as your body tried to calm itself from the recent climax. Olivia planted a kiss on your forehead.

Your high slowly subsided as you felt calm again. "I love you." Olivia said while giving you more kisses. You smiled "I love you too. I could never imagine where I would be without you."

Olivia smiled back and gave you one last kiss. "Let's go shower, I'm pretty sure you're very dirty now." She smirked.

_______

Thank you so much for 200 followers! I’m so glad to have so many supporters on the blog and it makes me happy to know that people are reading my post and rebloging it! Thank you so much for everything Thank you so much @sweptmajor38 for being my 200th follower!

If you enjoyed this it, give it a heart and reblog!

Sincerely Yours,

Spexialvixtimxunit 🥰

[alexwritesfiction]

-> About Me (navigation)

Call me Alex. Born 2006, i’m a native indian student in high school. i like to write excessively in freelance times and make oddly specific playlists. 5SOS, One Direction enthusiast. It’s all about the aesthetic <3. I really love cats so please flood me with them. I love using emoticons :)

-> About My Writing

I mostly write contemporary fiction with diverse character representation. Number one enemies to lovers trope stan even though found family comes a close second. I also write fantasy (i love worldbuilding) and different genres to refresh. requests for drabble and fics are open! but it might take time since i get flooded sometimes.

-> About My WIPs (masterlist)

One Shots and Drabbles in Masterlist

Let Me Know To Be Added To The Taglists

Hey Micah (ongoing)

In which ayla has been in love with her best friend for as long as she has known life but his fate has other plans for him and alyssa.

“and i know in the depths of my heart that whatever happens to the three of us, we’ll always make it though. back to each other. home”

best friends to lovers | teen fiction | diverse | coming of age | forbidden love | feel good | found family | second chance love

tw // major character death

Oblivion Of Everything (camp nano)

In which ten nights and a whole lot of coffee changes the connections between an insomniac and a sleepyhead, who just want to know what life is.

“whatever you do, don’t fall asleep” “well that’s ironic”

enemies to lovers | new adult | diverse | feel good | late nights | rivalmance | philosophy

tw // insomnia

Noah And Peyton

in which two 15 year old best friends agree to date each other if they can’t find love till 19, and Noah is determined to not let Peyton’s relationships last.

“we made a pact, pey, and i’m just following it. break my heart, but don’t break the pact. or it’s gonna break us,”

best friends to lovers | diverse | coming of age | teen fiction

tw // eating disorder // assault

Xavier

in which a gang leader’s daughter is arranged to marry the world’s biggest mafia leader. Xavier Blackheart has been putting up a shield all his life, only to be ripped apart by Catherine’s diamond dagger, and she’s the queen he never asked for.

“i’m a spitfire, and he’s ice cold. i wait for the day he’s gonna melt and i’ll finally be able to see the boy beneath him. because as much as i hate to admit it, i know he’s there, trying to hold on to life while the world crumbles around him,”

enemies to lovers | arranged marriage | mafia romance | rich broken bad boy | found family | diverse

tw // violence and gore // assault

She’s The Man

in which a neurodivergent girl dresses up as a boy to attend the most elite prep school to study and change the world, and she does. with the help of two twins, no less.

“I’d never really wondered how i’d look in a boys uniform. Until today, of course,”

“I might be able to live without one, because life goes on whether we want it to or not, but i certainly don’t want to. Live without you, that is. My world has two suns and i’m just as grateful to be their whole universe.”

bold female | twins | polyamorous | not that cliche | elite academy | diverse | neurodivergent

Ashton Garcia and the Teenage Side of Things

in which a non binary pansexual Ashton Garcia tries to discover themselves while still struggling through the hell that is high school. coming out? therapy? fake friends? what has their life come to? they try to find all the answers by themselves, and realise along the way that sometimes, it’s okay to be different and it’s okay to accept help. they’re not alone, not if Tyler Jones has anything to do with it.

“the words on the billboard blurred as my clothes became wet in the rain and i couldn’t believe that, standing there, someone accepted me more than i accepted myself. and what do you know, it was a mind boggling feeling on its own,”

non binary | pansexual | diverse | found family | high school au | trans mc |

tw // minor transphobia and homophobia

Breathe - letter side project

a project that will contain letters for aesthetic topics and just normal every day things observed through the eyes of a visionary, with all of the freshness of new ideas and optimism and deep things. a salvation of sorts. words that are too different to merge into works but too important to not share with the world.

“it was a cluster of lost droplets falling onto the ground with ferocity, as if they'd lost their way home and had surrounded us with melancholy. seems that someone unravelled the bright cloud and poked it enough for it to break, to turn dark and broken and finally let go of the weight it was holding. only if the sun had been shining now, the sadness could have been converted into a beautiful spectrum of colours, a companion to the endless tears of the cloud, a smile in the darkest depths of the broken world.”

aesthetic | letters | philosophy | visionary | deep

We’ll Never Die (5SOS fanfic) (30k)

in which michael clifford and his fan meet on an airplane and the walls he’s built fall for her.

fanfiction | rock star x fan | hurt/comfort | found family | coming of age | can be read as standalone

-> Do Not Interact

TERFs / queerphobic / racists / ableists / nsfw

-> Tag Lists

1. everything

@neptune-falls @metanoiamorii @thescatteredscribbles @little-boats-on-a-lake @talesofsorrowandofruin @w-l-ink @baguettethebooklover @euphoniouspandemonium @wannabeauthorzofija @lady-of-himring @the-writing-avocado @ink-fireplace-coffee @your-local-bi-disaster @a-completely-normal-writer @felonyfairy @cool-but-confused @47crayons

2. Hey Micah

@mel-writes-with-her-dragons @zoya-writes

3. BREATHE

@zoya-writes @unbalancedscale @just-colorful-regret

[beautiful-songbird]

The Strings of My Heart [16] - New Beginnings

← Chapter 15 | Chapter 17 →

Pairing: Zoro x Jupiter

Genre: fluff, angst, f2l

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: minor character death, abandonment, pregnancy, alcohol consumption

Summary: Zoro’s moved to sunny California for college to escape from the life of fame for a little while. But when he loses his violin case in the second week of school, he’s sure his college experience has just gone up in flames. What will he do when, despite all odds, his case is returned to him?

—————

It was odd. Neither Jupiter nor her siblings expressed any major grief after the news. Jupiter left Zoro at the house to babysit while she headed to the hospital to support her mom. All eight of the kids were seated on the floor in the living room, picking at the snacks Zoro had brought. They were all silent besides Comet, who was too young to understand what was going on. He sat on Zoro’s lap, happily munching on some crackers.

“Are we going to have to sell the house?” Stella asked, breaking the silence. Tears flooded her eyes. “It’s all we have. We can’t lose this place. Where will we live?”

Zoro rubbed her shoulder. “I don’t think so. We shouldn’t stress about the changes yet, ok?”

She was the first to break, tears slipping down her cheeks as she sobbed in despair. Aurora scooted closer to her, offering her a cookie.

“Snacks will make it all better. Daddy go bye-bye. But is ok.”

Stella took the cookie from her younger sister, smiling faintly. “I hope it will be ok.”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Hey,” Penny nudged Luna on the shoulder. “Aren’t you gonna order a cocktail?”

“Huh?” Luna asked. “Oh, no, I’m not drinking alcohol right now.”

Penny raised an eyebrow. “…why not?”

“She’s pregnant, obviously,” Ocean replied before taking a sip of her drink.

Luna looked over at her. “How did you know?”

“Are you kidding? You haven’t drunk alcohol for months, you skipped our sushi date last week, and…well, your clothes aren’t fitting the same.”

“Wait, is it Kohen’s?” Penny asked, shocked.

“Yeah…” Luna muttered.

“I’m going to fight him the next time I see him on the street.”

“Don’t do that. I don’t need another reason for him to hate me.”

“Hate you? Why would he hate you?” Ocean asked.

“Well, I broke up with him because he didn’t want kids, so I’m sure he doesn’t like me.”

“Well, if he’s got a problem with that then you shouldn’t be together anyways,” Penny shook her head. “That sucks that you’re having his kid and he doesn’t even want it.”

“I thought he wanted to meet Noah, though?” Ocean looked dumbfounded.

“He did. They were going to meet in May when my aunt and uncle came,” Luna sighed.

“What did he say, exactly? The night you broke up with him?”

“He said he never really wanted kids.”

“Well…that doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t want them now. Did you even ask him why?”

“No. I was so hurt that I just left right then and there. I want kids. I have two. I can’t be with him if that’s not something he wants.”

“Well, you’re not raising one of them. And the other one isn’t born yet,” Penny commented.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t change anything. We don’t share the same life goals. We can’t share a life.”

“I dunno. I think you should talk to him,” Ocean murmured as she took another sip of her drink.

“And say what? ‘Hey, I’m pregnant with your kid and was wondering if this would change your mind about having kids’?”

“I think he deserves to know, Luna. He wanted to meet Noah. I think that counts for something. And I think at the very least he should still get to meet him. You need to reach out to him.”

Luna shook her head.

“Ocean is right. Noah deserves to meet him if nothing else. He knows you. He deserves to know his dad, too.”

“We’re not his parents. Uncle Tae and Aunt Zelda are. He doesn’t need to get to know either of us. He deserves better than two parents who were stupid teenagers. He knows me as his cousin, and that’s how it’s going to stay right now.”

Ocean and Penny shared a glance before silencing their thoughts with some more alcohol. They knew Luna wasn’t going to listen to them at this rate.

◇◆◇◆◇

“You’re not going back to California,” Jupiter’s mother informed her nearly the second Jupiter walked into the hospital.

“Of course, I’m not,” Jupiter snapped. “Is that all you care about right now? We just lost dad and all you’re thinking about is my school?”

Her mother glared at her. “I need someone to watch your siblings. I need a break.”

“Mom! Are you kidding me? They’re all sitting at home crying because one of their parents is gone, and now you’re going to leave them too?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Jupiter.”

“I’m not watching them. I’m taking over Dad’s company.”

“You are not!”

“Yes! I am. And we’re hiring someone to watch all my siblings. Stella needs a break, and I’m not putting that pressure onto Venus. What are you going to do when you have the next baby? Abandon Comet? He’s barely two! If you need a break, then fine, leave. But I’m not going to let you destroy all my brothers and sisters’ lives just because you’re too selfish to stop having kids so you can pay attention to them.”

Jupiter marched off. She couldn’t believe her mother. The world was falling apart and still she didn’t care about any of her kids.

◇◆◇◆◇

The next couple weeks disappeared in the blink of an eye. They’d had her father’s funeral. Jupiter had dropped her college classes and talked to her father’s old secretary and management team. She couldn’t assume her position as CEO immediately, but the company was surprisingly willing to take her on as the head of the company.

True to her word, Jupiter’s mother had left town. No one was entirely sure where she’d gone, but she had certainly given up on mothering. Zoro had offered to help at home until he had to return to California, so Jupiter had a few weeks to work out finding a nanny for the younger three kids.

“Is your mom seriously not coming back for a while?” Zoro asked one evening as Jupiter walked through the door.

She sighed. “Apparently not. Not like it would make much of a difference if she were here.”

He nodded. “You want dinner?”

“Sure,” Jupiter seated herself at the table. “Where is everyone?”

“Venus and the twins are downstairs playing cards. Sirius, Bella, Aurora, and Comet are in bed, and Stella is in her room.”

“Wow. You got them all in bed?”

“Bedtime stories work like a charm,” he grinned.

She sighed. “Thank you for staying and helping. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t know what I’ll do when you go home.”

“Well,” he set a plate of pasta in front of her, “you won’t miss me for long. I’m dropping out once the semester is over.”

“What?” Jupiter asked, choking on her pasta. “What do you mean you’re dropping out?”

“I’m moving here as soon as the semester is over.”

“Why?” she asked, tears flooding her eyes. “But, Zoro, your family is there. And you’re doing what you love, and-”

He rested his hand on top of hers. “Jupiter, you’re the only reason I stayed in the United States. I would’ve left last December if I hadn’t met you,” he admitted.

She set her fork down. “But…what will you do? I’m not letting you sacrifice your life to take care of my siblings.”

He laughed. “No, I’d go nuts if I had to do this every day. I’m going to find a job and get an apartment. I was thinking about seeing if there’s any locally playing orchestras that would accept me.”

“Well, I’m sure they’d kill for the publicity. I can see it now, ‘Zoro Kim, the son of Taehyung Kim, is our head violinist. Come hear us play.’”

Zoro cringed. “When you put it that way, maybe I don’t want to do that.”

She laughed. “The life of fame really isn’t for you, huh?”

He shook his head. “It’s for Hyeon, but definitely not for me.”

She smiled at him. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. You’re so good with the kids. They love you.”

“Well, Stella is certainly happy to not have the weight of the world on her shoulders anymore. And I think quite a few of them enjoy cooking. Venus and Mars were thrilled to help me with dinner tonight.

“Really?” Jupiter asked. “I never knew.”

“Well, they were a bit younger when you left. Maybe they weren’t interested then.”

“Maybe,” she nodded. “Dinner is good. Thank you for making it.”

“Well, we’ve ordered enough takeout. Besides, your mom has a few cookbooks in the cabinet that I wanted to go through. They looked mostly untouched.”

“Ah. Yeah. We used those when I was little, but we had to switch cookbooks when Stella started eating with us since she has a gluten allergy.”

Zoro nodded. “She’s been asking for specific foods at the store. Said something like she wanted it to be easier to make dinner.”

“Ah. I wondered why we had pasta even in the house.”

He laughed. “Yeah. She pulled out the books and started finding easy recipes for us to make. I’ve been trying to alternate so she can eat with us. She ate some of her snacks tonight for dinner and some of the vegetables.”

Jupiter smiled.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You just…sound like a dad.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want kids?”

He smiled. “I do.”

“How many?”

“Well, certainly not this many.”

She laughed. “I want three.”

“Three sounds good.”

“Not right now, though. My siblings need to grow up first.” Jupiter sighed. “I hope my mom stops having kids after this one. I don’t need more kids to babysit. Now that my dad is gone, it looks like I’m truly in charge of our lives.”

“I can’t believe she just left. Has she always been like this?”

Jupiter shrugged. “She’s never really cared. Venus failed three classes last semester and she did nothing about it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it going at work?”

“Pretty good. Thankfully, stock prices haven’t fallen much. The CFO thinks we can just resume business how it’s been.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. They weren’t really prepared to transfer the company to someone else, so it’s going to be a while until I take over. But that’s ok. I’m co-running the office with the head chairman at the moment. I’m listed as the heir of the company in his will, so I can legally take over. We’re working on the legal stuff right now.”

“How do they feel about a nineteen-year-old CEO?” he laughed.

“Well, most of them know me. I was at the office about half of the time while I was growing up, so I know how everything runs. It’ll be hard, but hopefully it won’t be too much of a mess. There doesn’t really seem to be anyone else to challenge me in the running.”

“That’s good.”

She nodded. “So, how was your day?”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Luna announced as she walked into the kitchen.

“What is it?” her dad asked. “Is it the grill? I know you hate it, but it’s the best grill in this country.”

Luna cracked a smile. “No, Dad, it’s not the grill. I never use that, anyways.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s too bad.”

She seated herself at the island next to her mom. “So…how would you two feel about having another kid in the house?”

“A kid?” Luna’s mother raised her eyebrows.

Luna nodded, watching her parents share a glance.

“What do you mean, exactly?” her dad asked.

“I’m pregnant again.”

“…oh? But you and Kohen broke up in April?” her mother questioned.

Luna nodded. “I’m four months along.”

“Oh. So, we’ll have a baby for Christmas, then?”

Luna laughed. “That’s right.”

“Does Kohen know?”

“Kohen doesn’t want kids.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” her dad murmured.

“I’m keeping the baby this time.”

Her mom nodded. “That’s good. Ollie will love having a baby around.”

“So…you’re ok with this?”

“Of course!”

Luna let out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. “I need to get a sonogram. I’m far enough along that we can find out the baby’s gender.”

“I suppose we need to schedule that appointment then!”

—————

Chapter 17 →

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

Series M.list

A/N: well that happened 🧐 guess we’ll see where this goes

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie

[teamhappyme]

to care for you

rafael barba x female!reader

referenced cases from S17E04 and S17E16

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my first fic that I’m letting the world see and I’m... terrified. i hope whoever reads this gets some joy out of it. shoutout to @qvid-pro-qvo and @hurricanejjareau , y’all got me roped into loving the SVU boys, and this would not have been created if I hadn’t found your blogs. big inspiration over here. alright, here we go friends.

****

“Well you’re going, right?” 

“I haven’t decided.” “Haven’t decided? It’s Liv and Noah, Barba. A christening for the cutest little boy and the most deserving mother. They’ve been through hell this year, they deserve our support. Besides, you’re a devout Catholic, you should be all in for this.”

“First of all, he’s getting christened in a Unitarian church. Second, I wouldn’t exactly use the term devout. The last time I went to church was with you and Carisi after that trafficking case last year.” He said while grabbing another slice of pizza. In your three years since joining the SVU this was the first time you saw Rafael Barba eat a slice of pizza. 

“Careful. You might get some grease on that thousand dollar suit, Counselor.” He glared at you before taking a bite. “If you’re worried about the priest smelling your absence out, Carisi and I have enough devotion to pass on to you.”

“I don’t want any of Carisi’s Catholic guilt.” “You need me to take your confession?” You asked with a smirk. 

There weren’t many people that could get away with pushing Barba’s buttons without getting chewed out by the ADA in his next breath. And when you first started out with the squad, there were many occasions where you and Barba had some heated arguments.

Getting transferred to SVU was an overwhelming experience. You were thrown into the understaffed department right along with Carisi, so the two of you had to step up pretty quick for the unit. There was no adjustment period, trust wasn’t built, it was forced upon the squad. It took about two months for you to really trust the other detectives, but once you did, the unit got into a groove. Cases were being solved left and right and you started to understand the routine of the SVU. 

Until you had to testify. It was six months in, and it was your first testimony with the unit. It was also the first rape case you worked with minor victims. There were four fifteen year old girls accusing their history teacher of rape, two of which disclosed to you. 

You prepped with Barba for an hour the night before, making sure you knew the case inside and out. You felt confident in your answers, and were ready to take the stand. Until the following morning. On your walk down to the courtroom with him, you rushed into the ladies room to vomit up your coffee and your anxiety. Public speaking was never one of your strong suits, and Barba had cautioned you to be prepared for Buchanon’s toxic cross examination.

As you washed your hands and cleared your face, Rafael stayed outside the door, even deterring a woman from coming in. Once you exited, he was waiting at the side, pulling a granola bar and stick of gum out of his blazer pocket. You took the food, as he gave you a nod and waited for your okay to continue the walk down to the courtroom. A slight nod of your own and weak smile got his feet moving again. 

That trial was the first olive branch extended between you and Rafael. He wasn’t one to offer warm greetings, and since you were often glued to Carisi’s hip, it was hard for him to separate you from the enthusiastic detective. There were passive aggressive comments relayed back and forth while trying to indict a perp, and long nights spent deliberating probable cause at the round table. But it wasn’t until you accompanied Liv to One Hogan Place, in a particularly bad mood when you sassed the ADA back after he made a comment about your witnesses being incredibly unreliable, not having time for the shenanigans. 

After that moment, Rafael knew that he could trust you. The passive aggressive comments yielded, but the sass continued. The repertoire the two of you were slowly building drew quite the audience, Carisi and Rollins almost always feeding the fire with more topics to discuss. 

About a year into your tenure here, you started to check in on Barba. The first time you stopped by was originally a business call. Liv needed a warrant asap, already staking out the apartment of a suspect. You rushed over to the courthouse, trying to find any ADA’s secretary when you saw Barba still in his office at midnight. According to Carmen, he rarely went home before 9:00. After that night, you made it a habit to check in on him at least once a week. The DA’s office was a cutthroat environment, and Barba’s office was an even lonelier place. 

Thursday nights were penciled in for your unofficial drop ins, almost through the week but still burning the midnight oil. You would show up around 10:00 with pizza for you, and sushi for his expensive taste every time, knowing neither one of you had time to eat dinner yet. Most of the time, the two of you would work on your respective cases, sometimes sharing notes if the work overlapped. But if it was a slow week, sometimes the two of you would just, talk. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who understood the demanding nature of the job. Your family in particular couldn’t understand why you loved this career so much, but your squad could. It was reassuring to have their support.

“Alright, enough with the holier than thou attitude, Detective. I actually wanted to talk to you about the case.” Sitting up a little straighter in your chair, you wiped your hands on a napkin as he pulled out a manila folder. “I’ve been encouraged by the D.A. to drop the charges against Bobby D’Amico and Noel Panko.”

“What?” “And I have a motions hearing scheduled for Friday morning to dismiss the charges.”

After everything the squad had done for this case, what you saw Amanda put herself through. It was all for nothing.

“Barba, you can’t be serious. We have three victims, two willing to testify. We have footage of them attempting to rape Rollins for crying out loud.”

“Kristi Cryer has changed her story too many times. She was raped, then it was consensual, it was Panko, it was Panko and D’Amico. A jury will never believe her story.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “The jury won’t believe her or you won’t?”

“Hey, you know this isn’t about what I think. This isn’t a case we can win. We have to look at the optics.”

“The optics,” you muttered as you stood up from your seat. “Multiple women were raped by two well-known men in New York society, and the D.A. doesn’t want to make any enemies, right?” 

“You’re taking this worse than Liv did.” You scoffed. “Am I? Good. Because for the rest of their lives, those girls will have to live with the fact that their rapists are still out there. Not to mention their reputations will be ruined. People are going to call them liars, and whores. Their lives are never going to be the same. All because you won’t stand up to the D.A. and do what’s right?” 

Rafael stood up now, his loosened tie swinging from the sudden movement. “If this goes to trial, it will not go our way.”

“What about when you went after DCFS? You went after Musio, Grayson, Sheridan,”

“That was different,” “Why because it was Liv?”

“Because the department was a mess, and there were months worth of evidence of neglect and backdating reports. You were there, and if I remember correctly you were fighting alongside Liv to get me to prosecute.”

You ran your fingers through your hair, not willing to accept that this case was over. “These girls deserve justice, Barba. You were there when Panko went off at Dodds, he knows he’s done.”

“I want these guys just as bad as you do, Y/n. But we do not have the evidence. It’s a he said she said case, with one other accusation from a year ago without a rape kit. Not to mention Rollins went undercover without notifying a superior, tainting the whole investigation. We will make a fool out of ourselves and lose this case in court.”

“And it’s all about winning for the D.A.’s office, isn’t it. Can’t do anything out of the kindness of your hearts, can you?” You knew you crossed the line as you saw Rafael’s shoulder’s drop the slightest bit, his jaw clenched in place. 

“Maybe if you passed the Bar instead of failing three times you could understand why we can’t pursue this. We can’t bring a case to trial based on our emotions. This isn’t your tissue loaded desks, this is a courthouse.” 

You broke the tense eye contact you were holding after his statement. Insulting your academic failures and empathetic tendencies in one foul swoop. That was a low blow, even for the counselor.

Rafael knew his words pierced you. He pushed his chair back and let out a breath, getting ready to back track. But you beat him to the punch. 

“You know, my capability of empathizing with victims is the reason why you’ve put so many rapists away. If they had to speak to you, there would be no cases for you to even prosecute.”

This wasn’t a normal spout between the two of you. Things rarely got personal, and if they did, they were never this spiteful. 

“Then I guess there’s a reason I’m prosecuting in front of the judge and jury and you’re dealing with the victims.”

You scoffed at his final statement. You knew he was cocky, but you didn’t think he would use your insecurities or shortcomings against you. Especially not the fact that you failed the Bar Exam three times, which was only disclosed to him once Carisi opened his big mouth.

Covering your head with your beanie, you made your way to the door before either one of you could do more damage. You fought the urge to apologize, knowing you would need space before you could think of a response.

“Have a good night, Counselor.”

****

“Oh my goodness, Benjamin! Look at that tower you made with Maura! Did you show Luke?” “No. Mama saw it!” You smiled at the two year old through the phone, his own grin lighting up the room even over facetime. “Benjamin, is mama there? Y/n/n wants to talk to her for a minute.”

“I can bring you to her!” Maura took the phone out of the toddler’s hands, but you quickly protested so you could say goodbye to your godson. “Bye Benny, I love you buddy.” He blew you a kiss and you caught it as your little cousin brought you across the room. 

“Auntie Leah! Y/n/n wants to talk to you.” She handed the phone over while settling in next to her aunt. You saw your older cousin’s calming face, and couldn’t help the tears in your eyes.

“I haven’t even said anything and you're already crying,” You let out a laugh and took a sip of water. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” 

“Y/n, are you at the precinct? It’s 8:00 your time on thanksgiving, what are you doing there?”

“There was some work I needed to get done. If I can’t be with you guys, I can at least get a head start so I can come home for Christmas.” The squadroom was empty now, but it had only been filled by the desk sergeant and a couple uni’s until five. You’d been here since noon, not succeeding in spending the holiday alone in your apartment. “Besides, I’ve been able to ignore all of my mother’s phone calls with the ‘I’m working’ excuse. Has she called you guys yet?”

“Just mom once. You know she doesn’t mean it to hurt you, she just wishes you could spend time with family for the holidays.” “I know.”

Your family meant the world to you, and having missed the last two years of holidays was hard on you. Sure, you saw them eventually, but Christmas and Thanksgiving weren’t the same alone.

“Since I’ve already started Christmas shopping, is there anything Benjamin needs or wants from his godmother?” “He has requested, and I quote, ‘y/n/n’s nummy cookies’.” The smile that spread across your face was so big it almost hurt. That baby boy was probably your favorite person on the planet, besides your own nieces and nephews. “Alright well hopefully he can help Y/n/n make those nummy cookies in a few weeks. If not, I’ll send a box out, along with an amazing present.”

“What about me?” Maura asked, and you just shook your head. “Hey, I’m not made out of money here girlfriend.” She laughed at that.

“Have you at least eaten anything today?” Leah asked, trying to steer the conversation into a more meaningful direction. She could read you so easily. “Yes, I have. I’m not going to be here much longer, so I’ll grab something for dinner on my way home.”

“Y/n/n,” The eight year old interrupted again, and you couldn’t help the smile that etched across your face as you rolled your eyes at the silly nickname. 

“Yes, Maura.” 

“There’s a fancy man walking towards you.” 

You turned your head and saw Barba walking through the squadroom. “I gotta go, Leah.” 

“Is everything okay?”

He pulled over Carisi’s chair, raising a brow to make sure it was okay. You nodded.

“It’s okay. Just a colleague. I’ll talk to you later.” “Okay. We love you and miss you.” Tears pooled in your eyes again as Maura hopped on. “Love you Y/n/n!” A tear fell from your eye as you let out a laugh. “Love you too guys. Bye.”

You ended the call, quickly wiping your eyes now that you had an audience. It was only last night that you had your rather animated argument, and neither of you had reached out. Being stubborn was one of many traits the two of you shared.

“Can I help you, counselor?” 

He held up a brown bag with a receipt stapled to the fold. “It’s thursday night. It’s usually you making trips to the office, but I figured I could take the field trip tonight.” 

He opened up the bag, pulling out cartons of Chinese food. Your hand immediately reached for the fortune cookies, ripping the plastic wrapper off. 

There was a lingering tension in the air, unresolved conflict, and hurt feelings, but it still felt okay. Mainly because the two of you knew you were both to blame. 

“How did you know I was here?” You asked while grabbing the carton of lo mein. “I called Carisi. He said you were supposed to be in Minneapolis for the holiday, but got wrapped up in the case. Said he offered his family to you, but after hearing the commotion over the phone, I understand why you declined.”

“I didn’t decline because of their raucous personalities. I just wanted to get some work done.” 

He digressed, retreating into his carton of fried rice. “What about you? Why aren’t you eating pie and decorating for Christmas with your lovely mother?”

“She volunteered this year. Since Abuelita died, she hasn’t been a big fan of holidays.” You nodded, knowing how hard it was for Rafael to grieve his abuelita last year. 

“How has she been doing?”

He shrugged. “She has good days and bad days. She blames herself most of the time, but she has her school, and her kids to keep her upright.” “And you.” His eyes met yours for a brief second, the corners of his mouth turning up the slightest. He always wanted to do more for his family. 

“Was that who you were on the phone with? Your family from Minneapolis?” 

“Yeah. I was supposed to go out there for thanksgiving, but when we caught Kristi’s case, I cancelled. I thought,” You stopped, knowing any mention of the case would bring up last night’s conversation.  

“We were going to trial.” He finished the sentence and you nodded.

If everything had gone according to plan, Panko and D’Amico would’ve been indicted this week and the trial would’ve begun the following week. You’d already started prepping Kristi with Rollins, making sure she knew her story backwards and forwards. But it was all for nothing it seems.

“Y/n, what I said last night,” You shook your head. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I started it, and was completely out of line.” 

“You weren’t. You were fighting for Kristi, and your case. I just, I didn’t want to hear it.” He ran a hand through his hair, not perfectly quaffed like usual. “I shouldn’t have brought up the Bar. It was low, extremely low, and you didn’t deserve it. You and Carisi could take me out in court in a day. And if you ever tell him that, I’ll deny it until I die.” You laughed while taking an egg roll, crossing your finger over your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You let the apology sink in for a minute before starting your own. “I know you would’ve brought this to trial if we had enough evidence. I know that you care about the victims just as much as we do. I’m sorry that I said you didn’t.”

Poking around the container, he let out a scoff. “You weren’t that far off. I’m the D.A.’s puppet, letting him decide which cases I prosecute or not. We don’t have a lot of room for an emotional influence. I know how cold I can be with vics and witnesses.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t care.” 

“Tell that to Kristi Cryer. She posted a vlog today, ripped me a new one for not believing her. Called the D.A.’s office, and I quote, ‘a bunch of spineless jellyfish.’ She’s not wrong. I mean,” He let out a humorless laugh. “I went to law school so I could help people. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself the last twenty years. But in reality, I’ve been climbing the bureaucratic totem pole, pushing myself further and further away from that kid in the Bronx.”

“You don’t seriously believe what Cryer said do you?” He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. You sighed, placing the carton on your desk, leaning over to rest your hand on his arm. “You are the Assistant District Attorney for the Sex Crimes division. People do not last here if they don’t care about the victims. I’ve seen you in court, in testimony prep, hell even in interrogation. You care about every single person that needs our help. Does it suck that the law is not the most accommodating to rapists and pedophiles? Yeah, it’s really shitty. But you didn’t write the law books, as much as you like to believe you did.” A smile crept onto his face. “You care about your mom, your abuelita, everyone that helped you in the Bronx. I know you care about us, even Carisi, although you’d never admit it. You are not a spineless jellyfish, no matter how fun it is to say.”

“You really believe that?” He still couldn’t meet your eyes. It always amazed you how easily the most put together people could fall victim to their insecurities. 

“Rafael, I would not be spending every Thursday night for the past two years with you if I didn’t believe that you were one of the most kind-hearted people I’ve ever met. I care about you.”

His green eyes finally met yours as he moved to gently hold your hand that was previously resting on his forearm. He gave it a soft squeeze as you smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies that started blooming in your stomach. The same butterflies that rested there every time your hands brushed when you were walking down the hallway, or when his hand rested at the small of your back to escort you into the courtroom. And after tonight, and the way he was looking back at you, you knew he felt them too.

You spent the next ten minutes finishing off the takeout, sitting in a comfortable silence, not needing to fill the moment with anything else. The two of you kept sneaking glances at one another, breaking out into a sheepish grin if you were caught. 

Once you were done eating, Rafael cleaned up the food as you got all your belongings together for the long weekend. It wasn’t until that moment you realized he wasn’t wearing an expensive suit; he had on a navy blue quarter zip, black jeans, and some loafers. A smile crept up on your face knowing that you got to see him in casual clothes.

“Ready?” He asked as you slipped on your gloves and pushed your chair in behind you. “Ready.” 

You lived close enough to the precinct that it was only a ten minute walk. Rafael lived in the other direction, but still insisted on walking you back to your apartment. An Uber could pick him up from there, he said, because that man would not be caught dead walking across the city in his loafers.

He called for a ride as you approached your block, not wanting him to wait in the cold too long. As you approached the brick walk up, you started to fidget with the keys resting in your pocket. 

“Thank you for dinner. And a double thank you for not making me eat your sushi.” He smiled. “You’re welcome. Thank you for being such good company.”

“Anytime.” A sharp gust of wind hit you, causing you to duck your head into your coat for a few seconds. When you looked back up, Rafael’s cheeks were rosy red and wind burnt, and absolutely adorable. “I’ll see you next week for a warrant, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure. Make sure to get me a coffee on the way, listening to you list the legal reasons why you need the warrant always makes me sleepy.” 

You smiled.“Deal. Goodnight, Raf.”

“‘Night, Y/n.” 

Despite the farewell statements, neither one of you moved. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from his warm eyes, and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers brush against yours that you moved closer. 

His eyes flickered to your lips for a second, before looking back at you. You took another step towards him, waiting for him to close the gap between you. When he did, all you could feel was the warmth of his lips on yours, and the cold tip of his nose resting against your cheek. 

It was short, the two of you pulling away after a few seconds. But one smile from you had him leaning back in, resting a hand on your cheek as he kissed you again. It was slow and careful, but full of adoration. You couldn’t help but smile into him, bringing your hand up to rest against his own. After a few more seconds, his own smile made it impossible to stay connected. 

This time when you pulled away, you rubbed your thumb across his red, wind burnt cheek, not even trying to suppress the stupid smile on your face. And you were happy to see him grinning the same way.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” He said, shifting his head just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. Neither one of you is willing to ruin this moment with any talks about what this means. “Okay. Get home safe.” “I will.”

One more look at his rosy red cheeks, and you let out a laugh before you let yourself pull away.

“What?” He asked, completely dumbfounded by his affect on you. You shook your head in response. “Nothing.”

He returned your laughter before lightly kissing your lips one last time. You could get used to this. 

“Goodnight, counselor.” You said once you pulled away, lightly shoving him toward the ride that just pulled up. 

“Goodnight, detective.”

****

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Cold and empty (2/2)

Warning: More Angst, but also the promised fluff. Also one (1) corny joke that is not at all funny Wordcount: ~2k Summary: Now that the world knows about your biggest secret you fret that the life you knew will now change forever. Is there any way left to fix things?

Part 1 When you woke up, you were alone. What greeted you when you opened your eyes was the white ceiling of the hospital room that you quickly identified. The memories of what happened flooded your mind and your hand immediately wandered towards your stomach. You felt the rough material of the gauze wrapped around you and you expected a sharp pain to shoot through you. Nothing. You frowned when you noticed that your whole body was numb and you felt slightly out of touch with your body and your mind. What was going on? you asked yourself and looked around the room. The door to the hospital floor was closed and the window beside it was hidden behind the blinds, and the room itself was completely empty except the medical machinery and the lone chair beside the bed you laid on. Then your gaze landed on the window that was on the opposite side of the room. The first sunrays of the day shone through it and coloured the sky in the astonishing colours of dawn. How long have you been out? was the first question that filled the foggy space that was your mind. You had no sense of time at that moment. You closed your eyes to clear some of the confusion and daze you were in when you realized the extent of the situation. There had been police In your house, the pack had been at your house... There was no way they wouldn't know about your situation now. What now? The authorities now knew that you were a minor without any guardian. You were surely done for. Should you just leave, try to run away, make your own way. The thought had your heartbeat quickening in nervousness and fright. Leaving your pack? The people you loved and who loved you? Being completely on your own? Before you could make any sense of the thousands of thoughts that started to fly around in your head the door opened and Melissa came rushing inside, stopping at your side and taking your hand in her. "Shhh, it's okay. You're okay. Everything is fine, don't be scared. I know you're confused," she calmingly muttered to you while stroking her thumb over the back of your hand. Slowly, but surely your heartbeat calmed down. "Do you remember what happened?" she asked, carefully looking at you from where she kneeled beside you. "Y-yes," you weakly crooked out, only now realizing how vulnerable your voice was and how hard it was to speak. "That's good," she mumbled while standing up again and looking at the machinery surrounding you, "You really frightened us all big time. You were in the operation room for almost 12 hours. The bullet pierced through your stomach so we were all quite worried about if you would make it, but it's all okay now. You'll be in pain for a while, right now you're still full off pain killers so you won't feel much anyway, but as soon as that wears off, you'll be quite uncomfortable." You absentmindedly listened to her and nodded your head, your gaze now fixed on a spot at the wall behind her. "In fact, there are quite a few people waiting for you out there," she nodded at the door and smiled. You immediately looked at her. "Why do you look so confused, did you think they'd just leave you here alone? Oh no, they've been bugging me and the other nurses and doctors for hours about seeing you and nothing could get them to leave," she chuckled lightly before looking serious again, "do you think you're in a condition to see anyone?"

The entire group of well over ten people (including peter) were sitting, standing and lying in the waiting area on your floor, all of them anxious and worried. Melissa had already told them that you'd make it and that you were stable, but only minutes later she had rushed over to your room, making them even more worried than they had been before. After they had left, Scott and his entourage of angry, straight out furious, wolves/coyotes/chimeras followed the all too apparent scent of the man who had done that to you. It had taken only minutes for them to find him driving away from the city, the speed of his car nothing against the raging pace of your friends. They crashed his car and dragged him to the police station, Scott having his hands full with keeping his betas from ripping him apart (even though he couldn't deny that he wanted to do it himself too). After, they immediately joined Derek, Stiles, Lydia and (to their surprise) Peter in the hospital who updated them on your current condition and the status of your surgery. And then they waited. Except for the occasional toilet-, coffee-, or snack-run, they stayed where they were now and anxiously sat there, with worry painted on their faces. Finally, Melissa came back, looking calm enough for the pack to slightly calm down. "Is she-" "Yes, she's okay," answered Melissa the question of her Son before he could finish it and carefully gave him a smile. "She's awake and I had a quick talk with her and explained the situation-" she started but was almost immediately interrupted by Liam. "Can we see her?" Melissa sighed but kept her calm. "She told me she is okay with visitors, but at the moment I think we shouldn't overdo it. Three people at most and only for a few minutes. The pack shared looks while they silently contemplated who would be the first group who would be able to see you. The eyes quickly landed on Derek who had nervously been pacing through the space between the chairs for hours and clearly was still shaken by seeing you like that and having to sit beside you while he couldn't do anything to help you except making the pain a bit more bearable. "Derek and I will go," Scott stated, using his Alpha-status for his advantage, "and I think Lydia should come as well, she's her best friend after all." A few growls could be heard throughout the group, but no-one disagreed, leaving Lydia, Scott and Derek to follow Melissa to the room at the end of the hall which they knew belonged to you.

Standing in front of it, Derek's hand laid on the door handle, halting for a moment. He was mentally preparing for what could wait behind it, the shock of almost losing you still sitting deep, but when he felt Scott's eyes in his back he took a deep breath and opened the door. There you laid, your gaze was fixed on the window, but when you heard the steps, you looked up to the small group that had entered. When you saw Derek your eyes lit up with happiness and excitement like they always did, and it made Derek almost think that everything was okay, but then your face fell and your eyes avoided looking at your friends. For a minute the room was filled with silence when no one knew what to do or to say. It was Lydia who managed to ease the tension a bit when she walked over to your bed and sat down on the lone chair and took your hand. "Hey," she said, smiling when you finally looked at her. "Hey," you chuckled and intertwined your fingers with her. "How are you feeling?" "I feel like someone shot me," you giggled slightly, hoping that your bad joke would somehow ease the mood, but all you received were stares of horror. "Come on guys, I just almost died, can you at least laugh at my terrible jokes? I mean you won't be hearing a lot of them after that," you whispered the last part, forgetting for a moment that you were- in fact- in a room with two werewolves who basically had superhearing. "What do you mean?" Scott came forward, now standing beside your bed on the opposite side of where Lydia sat. You flinched a bit but sighed defeated. "Don't play dumb... you've seen my house," you tried to shrug, but the first sign of the pain-killers wearing off made you still your movements. "So it's true? Your aunt is gone?" "Yes. Has been for almost a year now. I mean we weren't exactly close so... I was fine. I managed," your tone was laced with defence and you averted your eyes again. "But the Sheriff said that your accounts-" "I had that all calculated okay... I had a plan. I mean sure, my life wouldn't exactly have been the dream of a teenage girl, but I would have ensured that I had another year or so with you guys and now..." your voice wavered and a sob shook your body, a warning about the emotional storm that was about to follow for you. You soon realized that crying after being shot in the stomach wasn't exactly a pleasurable experience and you had trouble trying to hide the excruciating pain that filled you with ever sob. Suddenly it stopped. It felt like all your pain wandered away from your body through the hand that wasn't held by Lydia and you looked down to find a big, rough hand grab it. You followed the black veins that were wandering his arm up and found Derek looking at you with sad, worried eyes. You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could, Lydia interrupted you and you had to tear your eyes away from Dereks. "Why would anything change now?" her voice seemed genuinely clueless and you had to hold back a sigh. "I'm a minor without a guardian who lied to the government for the last year. I can hope that the whole 'faking signatures' thing doesn't end me in jail or in any other legal trouble, but-" "Noah will never let that happen! And if it comes to the worst-case scenario, I'll even call my dad so that he pulls some strings," interrupted Scott frantically, not waiting for what was to follow. "I don't doubt that," you smiled and shrugged a bit, "but... still. They still have to report that my aunt is dead and that I'm alone with the CPS. And then, I'll have to enter the fun roller coaster of the foster care system for teenagers. Yay me!" You saw that Scott wanted to interrupt again but you continued talking before he could. "And even if not, what then. The American health care system is shit if I even get to keep the money that's still in my aunts accounts, then it's gone after I paid the bills for this," I nodded towards my new wound, both my hands still occupied. "So yeah, my only options are pitch, sulphur or wolfsbane..."   "No," blurted Derek who hasn't said anything since he entered the room. "What?" you asked and looked at him confused. "None of this is going to happen. You're neither going to end in jail, in foster care or on the street." "What! How?" "I'll adopt you!" he exclaimed with complete confidence and nodded his head. Silence. You looked up at him with wide eyes. Hope started to fill your heart, but then your sense of reality returned. "It's not funny to joke about something like that," you muttered and tried to let go of his hand, but he just gripped on tighter which would've hurt you if he wasn't still taking your pain away. "I'm not joking Y/N/N." Derek's voice was softer than Scott or Lydia had ever heard and he used the nickname he was so adamant about keeping a secret from the rest off the pack. "Are you sure? I mean if you want a child, then it surely would be better to get a younger one. I'm only a few years away from becoming 18 and-" "I don't necessarily want a child. I already have someone who's like a daughter to me." His eyes were fixed onto you and for a moment you forgot that there was anyone else besides the two of you in this building. At that moment you felt that you could trust Derek's word, that you could trust the hope it installed in you.

[babycracker]

first line tag game

thank you for the tag @amlovelies! 🤍

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

1. pranks (litg: bobby/mc)

“Hey Jenna!” Bobby jogs over to join her as she walks back in through the front door, and she raises an eyebrow at his cheerier-than-usual demeanor.

“Did I miss anything while I was away?” she asks, returning his smile all the same because his happiness is infectious

2. love or money (litg: bobby/mc)

Bobby’s eyes cracked open, peering into the darkness like every other morning. He always woke up before the lights came on. Even after a month in the Villa, for a split second he forgot where he was and a pang of panic shot through him when he felt Amanda shift beside him before the last twenty-nine days came flooding back to him, and he allowed himself the tiniest of smug smirks.

3. when bobby met lani (litg: bobby/mc) explicit, minors dni

The beer's cheap and nasty, the bouncers are more interested in hitting on the girls coming through the door than actually providing any kind of security detail, and the male talent is… subpar. The music's half okay though, Lani thinks to herself as she chokes down the last of the God awful beer she'd ordered. The barman, who's barely taken his eyes off of her since she sat down, nods toward her empty bottle with his eyebrows raised.

4. the one that got away, chapter 23 (litg: bobby/f!oc) main story is explicit, minors dni

His phone beeping and vibrating across Tash's nightstand woke Bobby up. He groaned and squinted at it, the small light flashing in the corner indicating a text message. He heard Tash groan from where her face was pressed into his back as he reached out for it.

"What're you doing?" she murmured as she shifted to lay her head on his chest when he rolled onto his back, squeezing her eyes closed against the sudden light.

"I got a text, sorry."

"How much did it take for you not to yell that?"

He felt her grin against him and chuckled, "not as much as it used to."

5. keep on running, chapter 8 (litg: bobby/god knows honestly the boy was a ho)

Bobby slips his phone, keys and wallet into his pockets and steps out from behind the counter of the music store, ready to head home, but stops short when he sees Gary standing just inside the door waiting for him. He offers a small smile, which Bobby doesn’t return as he tries to walk past him and out onto the street. Gary’s arm shoots out, his hand on Bobby’s chest to stop him from moving, and he sighs and looks over at him.

6. while the cats are away, chapter 3 (litg: bobby&f!oc)

As usual Bobby was the first to wake up, and had quietly made his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day while he had a few moments of peace. By the time he was done and heading back out to the bedroom, he was passing some of the others on their way to the bathroom. Tash was perched up on the edge of their bed waiting for him, holding a cup out to him as he made his way closer to the bed.

7. untitled (litg: ????)

Noah sat at their usual booth in the back of the bar, running his finger around the rim of his glass before letting out a sigh and checking the time on his phone again. He’d arrived early so he knew he had no business being impatient, but he’d needed to get out of that damn house, away from Hope.

It had been bad enough when they’d been playing nice. Watching her smile to his face while knowing that she was more than likely trashing him to whoever would listen as soon as his back was turned. Not that he had a right to be pissed off about that lately; he’d been doing the same thing for the last few weeks. But since signing the divorce papers, Hope had become a she-devil straight from the depths of Hell.

8. 25 (holi)days of wayhaven, day 31 (twc: adam/f!detective)

They’ve come a long way, and both of them feel it whenever they’re together. A long way from Jordan deliberately riling him up because she knew that just about everything she did irritated him. A long way from Adam going out of his way to spend as little time with her as possible.

It’s taken them a long time to realise that they were doing these things - leaning into their dislike for each other - as a way to distract themselves from the fact that they have always liked each other. Maybe they’ve always loved each other, though neither of them are willing to say that out loud.

9. untitled (twc: felix/f!detective)

Felix can't sit still. It's not as though it's unusual for him by any means, but it seems to be exaggerated when he's spent the last six hours in a place where there is literally nothing to do.

He's slumped on the chair beside the hospital bed, slouched down so low that his ass isn't even on the seat anymore, one of his legs jiggling up and down and both hands drumming erratically on his knees.

He lets out an impatient sigh and sits upright again, taking his hat off and running a hand through his hair.

10. sick like me, chapter 20 (litg: bobby/mc) explicit, minors dni

It had happened slowly, so slowly that if Lani hadn’t found herself (mostly) weirdly excited about it she might not have even noticed that it was happening. But Bobby was most definitely moving in, slowly but surely. It started with little things, a change of clothes here and there, some toiletries, until she was helping him sell off some of his bigger furniture, stuff that they both knew wouldn’t fit into Lani’s apartment.

After a few weeks, the two of them stood in the middle of what used to be his living room but was now nothing more than an empty space, as Bobby turned his keys over and over in his hand.

11. fire meet gasoline, chapter 4 (twc: morgan/m!oc)

She'd expected him to dress down a little, seeing that they are likely venturing into a sewer this morning. But all that's missing is his jacket; he's still wearing his usual long sleeve dress shirt and vest though his sleeves have been partially folded back, revealing the smallest glimpse of a tattoo on the outside of his right forearm.

"You know you're probably going to get covered in crap, right?"

"Wrong. But if you want to keep doubting me, go right ahead," he grins an obnoxiously cocky grin at her before turning and heading around the warehouse towards the sewers.

12. 28 dates with unit bravo, day 10 (twc: morgan/m!oc)

She doesn't like him. He's hot, that's all. And kind of cocky and kind of an asshole and what can she say? Morgan's into it. Maybe it's because he's the same as her; not relationship material by a long shot, but she has a feeling he knows his way around the bedroom. Probably the kitchen, bathroom and any number of outdoor locations as well. That, and he’s hot.

13. untitled (twc: adam/f!detective)

He can hear her pacing the hall outside of his room. She pauses every time she passes his door, and everytime she does he tenses, only to relax again just slightly when she returns to pacing.

Part of him wants to throw his door open and drag her into his room. Another part wants to stick his head out the door and order her to return to her room and stop shuffling around outside of his. But a part bigger than both of them makes him stay put, sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully unlacing his boots.

14. luck of the unit, day 20 (twc: adam/f!detective)

"Say another one!" Jordan can barely get the words out between gasps of laughter, only becoming more hysterical every time she catches a glimpse of the unimpressed expression on Adam’s face.

“This is hardly the best use of your time here,” he points out, pausing to gesture around the study, “you are supposed to be studying.”

“I am studying, I’m learning a foreign language,” she insists with a defiant nod, and when his shoulders sag in defeat she knows she’s got him. “Come on, another one.”

15. untitled (tanner, not fanfic)

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah."

"Liar."

Tanner pauses for a moment, unable to hold back a wince when the tattooist starts again. "Little bit."

Skylar grins at him and sits up straight in the seat again, smiling smugly at him before spinning the seat and herself around in a circle.

"Dad's gonna kill you," she points out when she finally stops herself from spinning, and Tanner rolls his eyes at her.

16. echoes in the forest, chapter 13 (twc: adam/f!detective)

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Felix murmurs quietly, trudging along between Nate and Mason. Jordan and Adam are walking up ahead close by the boy as he continues wandering through the forest.

“You mean you haven’t felt that way since we got here?” Mason scoffs, not bothering to lift his eyes from the ground in front of him.

“Yeah, but worse now,” Felix answers, and Nate places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be alright,” he tries, but somehow Felix doesn’t find himself as reassured as he usually does when Nate attempts to comfort him.

oop, didn’t quite make 20. and jfc did i have to dive down to the bottom of the barrel to get what i did, some of these were almost a year ago. i’m noticing now that i start with a character’s name more often than not. honestly i don’t think i can pick a favourite, i’ve been thinking on it for like 15 minutes now and i honestly dunno.

and i know some of you think that you know everything that i have written even if it hasn’t been/isn’t to be posted... and i know that seeing this list of untitleds, you may be surprised and i’m sorry lol.

gonna tag @dwead-piwate-meggers @mistyeyedbi @masonscig @echohauville and @agentsunshine (no pressure ofc!) and to anyone else who wants to get in on this, tag me!

[homeformyheart]

i don’t feel so alone anymore - noah harris x mc (mtfl)

author’s note: i had to repost this due to blog access issues. this was an idea i had early on when my two first loves started and takes place before mason and ava break up. i used the farmer’s almanac to pick specific flowers to reference in this fic. the meaning of white jasmine is “sweet love, amiability” and pink camellias represent “longing for you,” which i thought was fitting for noah. the other two flowers are defined in the fic.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. moodboard created by me. series/pairing: my two first loves - noah harris x mc (emma rating/warnings: 13+; minor grief, mourning word count: 3.3k summary: it’s the third anniversary of emma’s mother’s passing and the price family have plans to visit her grave. noah finds out and offers emma his heart in support.

i don’t feel so alone anymore

the day was here again. i can’t believe it’s been three years, emma thought to herself as she grabbed a black sweater dress and pulled on a pair of black tights. am i really going to wear all black today? screw it, she thought, pulling on her calf-length black leather boots as well. she didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about her outfit or school. she just needed to make it to lunch.

emma sighed and pulled out a photo album from the bookshelf on her desk, opening it about three quarters of the way with practiced ease. she couldn’t help but smile at the photo in front of her – the last time her family was complete and happy. she had just started her freshman year of high school and made the cheerleading squad.

“we need to celebrate! can we have 4 specials, including milkshakes, and the family-sized ice cream sundae for dessert?” mrs. price ordered in rapid-fire succession, before everyone had even settled into the booth.

“mom, you know we’re not going to be able to finish all of that!” emma said, trying to be serious but failing to stop the wide grin on her face.

mr. price put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “it must be a special occasion if we’re getting the ice cream sundae.”

mrs. price looked pointedly at her husband, but the twinkle in her eye suggested she was teasing. “of course, it’s a special occasion. our little emma bear is a high schooler and a cheerleader!”

emma stuck her tongue out at the childish nickname her mom continued to use. “mom, don’t call me that!”

it was the last memory she had of her mother that she could look back on fondly, before she got sick. emma traced her mother’s face with her finger, her gaze lingering on the deep purple scarf with pink and gold flower detail and matching dangling earring set. she looked up at the box hidden in the top shelf inside her closet, where those same scarf and earring set were stored, untouched for the past three years. taking a deep breath, emma grabbed the box and pulled out the scarf first, running the soft fabric through her fingers before wrapping it delicately around her neck. she picked up the gold dangling earrings next, sliding them onto her ears, the pink and purple crystal flowers catching the soft light of the bathroom lights. her phone buzzed a few times and she glanced over at the notifications.

noah: [want a ride to school?]

mason: [hey emma, need a ride to school?]

it was the same every morning, except when mason was carpooling with ava. she stopped expecting texts from ava, after she decided that emma was trying to steal her boyfriend. however, she was not in the mood for any of the stupid drama today. she quickly texted a brief “no,” to both, put her phone on airplane mode, and followed her dad out to his car.

“i’ll pick you guys up at 12:00, right here,” mr. price said, looking over at emma and mackenzie, who just nodded and stepped out of the car.

emma looked over at her dad and noticed the tired look on his face. his eyes were red and puffy, like he had spent the night crying. “we’ll get through this together,” she said, softly.

mr. price met her gaze and smiled. “you look beautiful today, just like your mother did when she wore that scarf.”

emma felt her lips quirk up. “thanks, dad.” she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and stepped out.

she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone today. she walked to her locker to grab her history textbook before heading to homeroom.

“look at miss goth-wannabe over there. going to a funeral?”

emma took a deep breath. she saw lauren and ava walking towards her out of the corner of her eye and turned away so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact. she blinked rapidly at the stinging feeling forming behind her eyes at lauren’s comment and quickly sat down in the back corner of the room, on the side of the room closest to the door. if she had looked at ava, she would’ve seen the conflict on her best friend’s face. but they weren’t really talking these days, and emma didn’t want to feel hurt and disappointed in case ava didn’t remember what today was. only four hours to go.

as soon as the bell rang that signaled the start of lunch, emma walked as fast as she could toward the school entrance. she was weaving around students heading to their lockers or the cafeteria, heading in the opposite direction, when someone grabbed her wrist. emma tried to yank her wrist away and whirled around to see who had grabbed her.

“hey emma, where are you rushing off to? is everything okay?” noah asked softly, still holding onto emma’s wrist.

emma looked up at him and her eyes softened at the genuine concern in noah’s eyes. she bit her lip as she debated internally whether to tell him the truth. there were only two people who really knew what happened freshman year and would understand why today was so significant, but of course, those were the two people she wasn’t really talking to much lately.

“my dad’s picking me up for lunch and i have a free period after. i’ll be back for practice,” she said finally, avoiding eye contact.

noah let go of her wrist and moved to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. the simple motion made emma’s heart flutter and her body tense. bringing her eyes up to meet his, emma let out breath she didn’t realize she was holding. noah’s gaze was soft, gentle, but inquiring in a vulnerable way. his hand lingered by her cheek and she subconsciously started to lean into his palm. as if on cue, noah brought his palm closer and emma felt his thumb gently stroke her cheek.

there was something about the look he was giving her that made emma want to let him in. “we’re going to visit my mom’s grave. she died three years ago today,” she said softly, dropping her gaze to the floor.

noah held her chin firm and lifted her face so she was looking at him again. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured. “it’s understandable why you’d want to avoid everyone today. what can i do?”

emma pulled back instinctively, startled, but noah’s grip on her chin held her in place. most people who had never lost a loved one usually asked, “are you okay?” and emma would say “i’m fine,” as if it were a reflex. if they hadn’t lost a loved one, sometimes she would get the unintentionally offensive “time heals all wounds,” that she’d respond to with silence until they awkwardly excused themselves from the conversation. this was the first time in a long time someone just acknowledged her pain and asked her what they could do to be supportive rather than presume she wanted to hear unsolicited advice.

“that’s really sweet. i don’t think anyone’s really asked me that before, so i don’t really know if there’s anything you can do. but i really appreciate it,” she said finally, feeling a small smile appear on her face.

“i have a free period after lunch too,” noah started slowly, bringing his thumb to stroke her bottom lip. “i could keep you company or provide you with a distraction. whatever you need.”

his voice never wavered but emma saw the uncertainty in his eyes that darted between her eyes and her lips.

emma smiled a little wider. “that sounds nice. maybe you can meet me at the graveyard after my dad goes back to work? i’ll text you.”

noah’s eyes seemed to brighten and soften at the same time. “you got it, emma,” he said and with one last, quick glance at her lips, he dropped his hand from her face.

as soon as his hand left her face, emma missed the warmth. her gaze dropped to his lips once, before moving back up to meet his in what she hoped would be seen as silently asking for permission. noah’s gaze darkened so slightly that emma wondered if she imagined it, before his soft lips were on hers. she wasn’t sure who moved first, maybe they both moved at the same time, but all she could focus on was noah. he was kissing her sweetly and gently, as if he were afraid of pushing too hard or overstepping, and it was just what she needed.

she finally pulled away after what felt like minutes even though it was probably a few seconds and smiled. “thank you,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze before walking out the door.

ten minutes later, emma slid into the booth next to mack at the diner they used to go at least once a week. now they went as a family a couple times a year, in the spirit of remembering her mom. both mack and her dad were quiet and staring at the menus in front of them.

“3 specials with milkshakes and an ice cream sundae?” she suggested, mustering an encouraging smile on her face as she looked at her dad.

mr. price’s face brightened a little. “that sounds perfect for today.”

mack rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. “i am definitely going to fall into a food coma after lunch.”

emma quickly put in their order, making sure to also ask for coffee for her dad. once the food came, the awkwardness dissipated a little as they reminisced about their favorite memories with their mom. emma noticed both mack and her dad’s expressions seemed a little lighter by the time they were ready to leave.

after the meal, and boxing up lots of leftovers, they headed to the graveyard after a quick stop at the florist to pick up a bouquet of pink calla and stargazer lilies. emma held tightly on to the bouquet the entire ride over, feeling a sting behind her eyes and trying to keep the tears at bay by blinking rapidly. her mom absolutely loved pink lilies in all forms and while looking down at the picture-perfect flowers in her hands, she could feel how much she missed her mom. she missed her so much it physically hurt.

all too soon, she’s standing in front of her grave and the large tombstone with only the left half filled out. her parents had bought a shared plot and tombstone when her mom got sick. it was one of her mom’s strengths – she was always thinking ahead to find ways to lighten the burden on her family, even if said burdens came. the design and inscription on the tombstone were thoughtfully designed and selected by her mom, so the message was especially poignant. it was also the way her mom removed the burden from her family of having to deal with the logistics of arranging everything while they were deep in their grief.

“i love you mom. and i miss you so much every day,” emma said softly, kneeling down to help her dad clear out the weeds in front of the stone before laying the bouquet down. i hope i’ve made you proud, she thought to herself, taking a few steps back to allow her dad and mack to have their own private moments.

mr. price stood between emma and mack with an arm around each daughter. he gave their shoulders a light squeeze and emma wrapped her arm around her dad’s waist to give him a one-armed hug.

“come on girls, i’ll give you a ride back to school,” he said as he started walking back toward the car. mack followed but emma hesitated.

“actually, i’d like to stay a little longer. i don’t have any more classes today so i just need to get back in time for practice. i can take the bus back,” emma explained, tensing as she waited for her dad’s reaction. to be honest, she expected him to get angry and go into a lecture about skipping school even if she had a free period, but he didn’t.

he was quiet for a few moments before nodding. “i’ll see you at home later. be careful,” he said, turning back around.

emma let out the breath she was holding. she ignored the 30 unread texts and 5 voicemails from mason and sent a quick text to noah, who arrived more quickly than she expected. she walked back toward the main path so he could see where she was and noticed that he was holding two bouquets.

“what’s this?” she asked, as they walked back to her mom’s grave.

noah looked at her sheepishly. “well, i wanted to bring you and your mom something. the hyacinth and gladiolus flowers are for your mom,” he said, pushing the bouquet in his right hand toward her.

emma bent her face down to take in the scent of the flowers. “these are beautiful. usually people just get roses or chrysanthemums. i don’t think i’ve heard of these before, why’d you pick them?”

“i did some research on the meaning of flowers. white hyacinths can represent prayers for someone, and gladiolus flowers represent remembrance,” he said, softly. “i wanted these to be special.”

emma felt her heart swell with warmth. “noah… you being here is special. but thank you, this is incredibly thoughtful.” she smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. she motioned for him to place the flowers next to her bouquet from earlier before turning back to the grave.

“mom, i want you to meet someone special. this is noah harris from school, a very important friend i made this year,” emma said softly, intertwining her fingers with noah’s and giving him a light squeeze.

“just a friend?” he teased softly.

emma blushed and tried to keep her gaze forward. “i, well, you’re special to me,” she stumbled, embarrassed.

noah squeezed her hand. “you’re special to me, too.” he turned to address the grave. “mrs. price, you have an amazing daughter. she tried so hard to become my friend when everyone else preferred to ignore me. i never thought i’d have someone like her in my life, someone who sees me for me and chooses to see good. i am so grateful that you raised her to be so kind and thoughtful.”

emma’s jaw dropped and she turned to look at noah’s face. even from his profile, she could tell he was being sincere, and very vulnerable. he turned to her with a soft smile and emma just felt like her insides were melting. she surged forward to kiss him, hard, letting go of his hand so she could wrap hers around his neck. noah took a step back in surprise but quickly regained his balance and held her waist firmly as he kissed her back. he pulled back shortly after to hand her the other bouquet, which emma had forgotten about. she took the bouquet from him and inhaled the perfume radiating off the pink and white flowers before looking back up at him.

“these are for you. white jasmine and pink camellias,” he said softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“thank you,” emma said, sighing happily when noah placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “and what do these flowers represent?”

noah was silent. emma looked up from the flowers at him curiously but he was avoiding her gaze. was he blushing? she couldn’t remember if she had ever seen him blush before and now, she was really curious about what these flowers represented.

“you’re blushing! now i really want to know. please or i’ll just look it up,” emma teased, elated at finally seeing noah blush.

noah turned to head back toward the main path, but not before he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. “i think i’d rather you look it up when you get home so you can’t tease me anymore today,” he said quickly as they made their way to his motorcycle.

“fiiiine, but i reserve the right to tease you about it tonight or tomorrow,” emma said, taking the spare helmet from noah.

he grimaced but emma could see the ghost of a smile twinkling in his eyes. she climbed behind him on the motorcycle and held tight as they made their way back to school. they walked hand-in-hand to the football field, ignoring the looks from everyone as they continued toward their respective locker rooms to get changed for practice. emma held on to her bouquet tightly and couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she chatted with noah the entire walk over.

if anyone was looking closely, which emma wasn’t, they would’ve noticed that noah wasn’t really saying anything but looking at emma adoringly as if everything she was saying was the most interesting thing ever. which it was, at least, to him. not even seeing ava being handsy with mason could put a damper on emma’s spirits as she said goodbye to noah before heading over to the bleachers for cheer practice.

“how good of you to come back for practice after skipping school at lunch,” lauren remarked sarcastically as emma started stretching. the entire cheer squad and even mason seemed to have gone silent, waiting for emma’s reaction or response.

emma took a deep breath and straightened up to look at lauren directly with a frostiness that seemed out of character. she could see ava and mason out of the corner of her eye look at her with concern. “i didn’t skip. my dad signs us out for a half day so we can visit my mom’s grave on the anniversary of her death every year. got a problem with that?” she stated, her voice unwavering. lauren’s eyes widened in surprise. “didn’t think so.”

“two laps everyone, now!” ava ordered. the other cheerleaders seemed relieved as they started jogging away from the bleachers. “emma, wait. can we talk?”

emma paused and turned to look at ava and mason. “em, i’m sorry. i tried texting and calling you all day,” mason said, hands clenching as though he was trying to keep himself from reaching out for her. emma knew what he was really saying, which was that either he was sorry he forgot it was the anniversary of her mom’s death and that emma would need all the support she could get from her friends or that he remembered and was sorry he didn’t try harder to reach out. maybe he was too preoccupied with ava.

emma gave both of her friends long, appraising looks. “is that all?” she said, a little inwardly surprised at her own indifference. ever since her two best friends started dating, instead of seeing them both more, she saw them even less. she thought she would feel less alone after coming back from wisconsin but being a third wheel threw a wrench in that. until she started getting to know noah.

“emma… you know we’re here for you,” ava said softly, her eyes searching emma’s face for cues.

emma thought back to how noah stopped her in the hallway before she left to meet her dad and the flowers he brought to the graveyard. “except you know, you actually weren’t there for me today,” she said, giving them both a piercing look. mason and ava seemed to both tense and inwardly withdraw.

“but don’t worry, i’m okay. more than okay, actually. for the first time in a long time, i’m happy and i don’t feel so alone anymore,” she said, more to herself than to them, as she turned to start jogging along the track.

she didn’t look back at the concerned looks on mason’s and ava’s faces but did wave to noah when she noticed he was looking at her. she still missed her mom every day, but today it didn’t hurt as much. and she knew who to thank for that.

* * * * * mentions: @nyastarlight​; @khoicesbyk​; @chetachisblog​;  @robintora​;​ @shows-simp-card​;

[little-miss-dumpsterfire]

I think I made you up inside my head - chapter three

Chapter three my select few darlings! Yes, it’s already on wattpad (sorry if you’ve read it already) but I like to share!

Are you ready kids?

Chapter Three - I am only what you made me. I am only a reflection of you

Trigger warning - mental health issues and blood/gore.

If you're not comfortable, please skip. 💛

******************************************

Sharp tears prickled in his hazel eyes as the ability to form coherent words seemed to escape him. He had known the minor details surrounding Lindsay's untimely death - a reality tv darling dropping dead was headline-worthy - but her family were tight-lipped about the exact circumstances of her demise. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend how Izzy had known all of this; her knowledge rivalled that of a fly on the bathroom wall. As if she could hear his innermost thoughts, Izzy answered his unspoken question.

"I knew the right people to ask," she told him, brushing the hair out from in front of her eyes, "I knew she didn't just die. I wasn't going to let her death be treated in such a blasé fashion."

Axel choked, the words lodged deeply in his throat. "Bu- I mean... how did you get the mirror?"

"I found it one day. It was in a box on my doorstep. Any sane person would leave it be, but if the media established anything, I'm clearly not seen as sane. So I opened it. I don't know who sent it to me. My money's on a producer who revels in the sadistic thrill derived from the torment and suffering we went through. I couldn't throw it away though, because what would be left of her if I did? She was already condemned to the ground. I wasn't going to be the one to throw her memory to the wind."

Izzy looked to her left, her reflection dimly lit in the glass cabinet on the far wall. "In my head... all I think of is when it's all over, is this how I'll be defined? The final victim of Total Drama... that's etched into my brain. I'll become another knick-knack in a hall of curiosities. We're no longer people in here, Axel, we're collectables."

Thoughts bounced around erratically in Axel's head - conflicting notions manifesting like an angel and a devil on his shoulder. In front of him was a woman who was struggling with the turmoil outliving all of her friends. Yet, the magnetic pull of the almighty dollar swayed his actions towards chasing stardom.

He lightly gripped her forearm, giving her his best convincing empathetic smile.

"Tell me the stories. Let the voices out of the purgatory that is your mind. Everything...one, everyone in here will not be relegated to the sidelines, I won't let that happen." Axel assured Izzy, his warm smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Ignoring the suspicion that washed over her thoughts - for the time being at least - Izzy continued walking down the aisles of shelves. Axel shadowed her, following a few paces behind, mindlessly fiddling with the items on display. Two tarnished faux-gold lockets sat near each other, the two halves of the 'BFF' heart separate from one another. As he went to push the two sections together, Izzy stopped him abruptly and pushed his hand away.

"No," she started, startling Axel with the sudden sternness. "They can't be together. They don't share a heart anymore."

"So what? They grew out of being obnoxious teenage girls and went their separate ways. Big fucking deal!"

She stared daggers into him, holding the shelving for support. "You've got no idea, kid. Just because the sun's covered, it doesn't mean your shadow's gone."

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

As far as appearances were concerned, Katie and Sadie were almost each other's doubles. Matching short pigtails with bright pink hair ties, coordinated short shorts, crop-tops and wedged sandals... the two looked like they fell from opposite sides of a funhouse mirror. To all of us on the cast, and the audience at home, no doubt, the only differentiating factor between the two was their build. Katie was slim and taller than Sadie by about four inches, whereas Sadie was shorter and carried more weight.

The two 'BFFL's sat together on the stairs leading to the dock, ready to film their segment for the opening sequence. Waiting for the crew to finish setting up the camera equipment, Katie busies herself with refastening her hair ties.

"Okay girls," an unseen producer informs them, "we need your best-infatuated expression. So give up wide eyes, big smiles, the whole nine yards."

The girls nod in response, awaiting their cue. Sadie clasped her hands against her chest - a wide smile plastered on her face - and Katie bit her lip coyly.

"And.... cut. Alright, move set to the dock for Beth's fire-baton stunt. Doug, remember the extinguisher this time." The producer called about. "Great job, girls. Especially you, Katie. That lip bite was dynamic."

Sadie looked to her right at her best friend. "Wait, you bit your lip? We agreed on a wide-mouthed smile."

"It's no big deal, I just wanted to try something different," Katie shrugged, readjusting her shoulder strap. "We can't always be the same, you know?"

Personality-wise, once you got to know them separately, it was like night and day. Katie was free-spirited, leading with her heart. Her passion for all things fashion was evident through her and Sadie's matching outfits and her behind-the-scenes chats with the likes of Lindsay and Heather. Sadie, on the other hand, was more logical, leading with her head. She was more likely to be the sheep as opposed to the shepherd. And when Katie was eliminated early? It was like leading a lamb to the slaughter.

Sadie sat on a jagged log at the campfire, head in her hands violently sobbing. Bridgette futilely offered her support, attempting to coax the girl from her hysterical state.

"Hey, Sadie, it'll be okay. You've got all us Killer Bass on your side." Bridgette lightly rubbed circles on the crying girl's back.

"No!" Sadie snapped at Bridgette, tears staining her cheeks. "It's not okay! I need Katie. When she's not near me, I break out in hives. She's my everything! I need her more than oxygen! Without her... I'll just die!"

Concerned expressions flashed on the faces of their fellow teammates as Sadie's wails echoed through the woods of Camp Wawanakwa. She clutched the debris from the dock closer to her chest; small cracks formed as wooden shrapnel shattered from around the edges.

What we thought back then was just a toxic 'uber' friendship between two sixteen-year-old girls was far more deep-rooted than any of us anticipated. Regarding Sadie... the best way to sum that up is to quote my dearly missed best friend Noah: 'Sadie is a whackjob with more baggage than an airport terminal'. But I suppose that is giving her a disservice. Upon Katie's departure, Chris was notified by Sadie's therapist of the extent of her mental state. I found out too because back then, well, let's just say you couldn't leave me in the dark for too long.

Sadie's childhood wasn't easy in the slightest. Her relationship with her birth parents was relatively non-existent. Therefore, she was surrendered into the custody of the state. The conveyor belt life of passing through the foster care system took a toll on the girl, with an absence of permanent parental love leaving holes in her heart. Her talkative nature and inhibitions to talk and hug strangers lead to her first visit to the therapist. She was a clear cut case for the child behavioural scientists: disinhibited social engagement disorder, an attachment disorder. Looking back, this was evident in all her future actions, particularly those with Katie.

The bell rang on the first day of their last year of high school. Sadie - dressed as per usual in fuchsia shorts and a striped crop top - eagerly skipped over to the locker of her best friend. As the locker door slammed and her friend came into view, the excited expression on Sadie's face dropped.

"K-Katie? What's this?" Sadie questioned, holding her sticker-covered folder flush against her chest.

Katie raised an eyebrow quizzically, straightening out her paper timetable to find her first classes location.

"What do you mean, Sadie?"

"I mean that!" the shorter girl exclaimed, gesturing at Katie's outfit. The taller girl had moved away from her typical Total Drama outfit, substituting it with a pair of denim jeans and a pastel pink cardigan.

"Oh, this? I just wanted to branch out a bit. I mean, matching outfits? What are we, twins?"

Katie giggled at her observation, with Sadie clearly missing the joke.

"Anyway, I have to get to English, but I'll see you around, yeah?" Katie chirped before walking off with two other girls.

Sadie stalked over to Katie's locker, using a spare hairpin to open it. Her heart broke upon looking at its contents. Gone were the photos of her and Sadie plastered onto her locker door. Cutouts from fashion magazines and runway shows lay in their wake and stuffed under a pile of books was the BFF necklace Sadie gifted her years prior.

Following their graduation, the pair had drifted apart. Katie received an offer to the most prestigious fashion school in Canada and left their small town for Toronto. Unbeknownst to her, Sadie followed suit and got a job at a sewing goods store. Sadie became Katie's shadow, desperately following her every move. Her morning routine was memorised, her coffee order became part of her mental wallpaper. Sadie's infatuation only grew, as in her mind, distance made the heart grow fonder. If only Katie knew that this distance was all of a few metres.

A harsh squeak dripped from the tired hinges of the ladder as Sadie climbed up the rungs, fastening something onto her wall. For her neighbours, the sound had become a part of their daily lives, as day after day, Sadie adhered more photos on the apartment wall. The collage of the lush green of leaves, the yellow of the bustling taxis and blue of the cloudless sky swirled around on the wall, catching a person's attention as they entered the room. A timber coffee table was neatly placed on the left, adorned with additional photo frames and miscellaneous decorations. The centrepiece to her display shimmered brightly when the morning sun shone through the gap in the curtains. Perched in a small, open velvet lines box was one half of a golden heart-shaped 'BFF' necklace.

Sadie took a step back and tilted her head, taking in the view from as many angles as she could. She had finally achieved the pinnacle of her undying love and infatuation for her former 'BFFL'. Neatly arranged across the length of the wall was a mural, dedicated to her muse, to the reason she woke up every morning. Candid photos of Katie walking down the street, exiting cars and meeting friends for coffee dates were carefully taken by the shadow she didn't know that she had.

A year and a half passed. There was a stark dichotomy between Katie and Sadie's lives. The final year of her fashion degree was approaching quickly, and Katie was not entering it alone. I don't know how many of us predicted it - probably Noah with his impeccable 'gaydar' - but Katie had fallen in love with an architecture student called Daisy. From what was depicted on their respective social media accounts, it was clear to us that they were enamoured with one another. The presence of another woman in Katie's life infuriated Sadie, as she believed that that position was reserved for her and her alone.

Then came the drop in the ocean that caused the whole tsunami. If it wasn't for Katie's selfless nature... well, I imagine things would've turned out a lot differently.

Katie sat cross-legged on the couch, a decorative throw rug draped across her lap. Their rescue cat, Archibald - a male calico - rested behind her head, purring with content as she opened her laptop. Her fingers barely touched the trackpad as she scrolled through her Facebook feed, bypassing ads for strange items and memes about the current political climate.

"Ekaterina," an auburn-haired girl walked through the doorway, a basket of washing in her hands. "I'm making something for lunch after I finish this washing. I'll probably use what's left in the fridge and make a frittata. D'you want some?"

"Ooh, yes please, Dais," Katie smiled at her partner, who poked her tongue out at the use of her nickname.

Katie clicked on her latest post to see who had reacted and liked. A smile crept across Katie's face as she clicked onto the picture: a photoshoot in a field on flowers where a bright ring sparkled on Katie's ring finger. She looked down at her left hand, still in a state of shock at Daisy's proposal. One name stuck out as Katie scrolled through the comments. She hadn't thought of them for years now and wondered what they were getting up to.

She clicked on their profile to compose a new message. Daisy walked up behind her and scratched Archibald's head before planting a kiss behind Katie's ear.

"Oooh, who are you talking to? Not your girlfriend, I hope," Daisy taunted, giggling breathlessly.

Katie threw her head back against the couch cushion and looked up at her fiancée.

"Yeah, I'm shopping elsewhere. I need someone who appreciates my nicknames!" Katie threw back, puffing her cheeks out comically. "No, you goose. It's this girl I used to go to school with. It's been forever and a day, and I thought I'd see how she's going."

"Sadie Calhoun... isn't she that one you went on that show with?"

"Yeah... I felt like such a poser back then. I don't think I've ever squealed since," Katie responded.

"Hey, people change. I had such a crush on you when I saw you on TV, and look now!" Daisy told her before walking away towards the kitchen. "I snagged the girl of my dreams!"

Katie laughed as she typed an introductory line, sending it through before closing her laptop.

*********

A sudden buzz from her phone against the wooden table shook Sadie out of her delirium. She had been sat before her photo wall, carefully cutting out photos of her face for what could have been hours. Paper scraps lined the wooden flooring like irregular speckles of snow as Sadie rose to her feet. Picking up her phone, her eyes shone brightly with its blue light as a squeal escaped from between her lips.

On her screen - behind the myriad of cracks and scratches - sat a notification that held Sadie's heart in a tight grip: Message request from Ekaterina Byers.

If this were a sitcom, I'm sure Sadie would've pinched herself at that moment to assure that she wasn't dreaming. But with one olive branch in the form of an instant message, Katie had signed her own death warrant.

Sadie opened the notification with bated breath, her cheeks aching from the smile that was cemented in place. Her heart fluttered with anxious butterflies as she read the message.

Ekaterina Byers:

"Hi, Sadie. I wonder if you remember me, probably not! High school seems like forever ago! Haha! 😝  I just thought I'd reach out and see if you wanted to get a coffee sometime and just catch up on life!"

The words swirled and danced before Sadie, who lovingly took in every single one with deep adoration and love. Everything she had wanted to tell her, the praise she had wanted to shower Katie in bounced around in her head. She placed her phone down, forcing herself to calm down before she wrote a response.

Sadie Calhoun:

"Oh, hi! OMG! Of course, I remember you! I'd love to catch up! You're the busy fashion designer, so you pick a time when you can squeeze an old friend in! 😎 💕" Watching the three dots in the bottom left corner caused Sadie's breath to hitch in her throat. She was typing... Katie was typing. They'd finally be reunited, not just from behind a camera lens. She felt as if she was in the painting 'The Creation of Adam', just a fingers touch away from her god, her whole world.

Ekaterina Byers:

"Haha, as if! I'm not there yet 😂  Would next Friday suit? Say about 9am at the Good Coffee Co. I need to hand in my portfolio at 8:30 so that'd work well."

Impulsively, acting out of desperation alone, Sadie immediately responded.

Sadie Calhoun:

"Yes! I'll be there! See you soon, Katie! 💕"

Sadie locked her phone before focusing her attention back to her craft. She picked up her scissors, skilfully manoeuvring around the edges of the photos. She stuck the product onto the wall and gazed upon it proudly. Hundreds of small cut out photos of her head were plastered on the wall, covering up any person Katie was with, replacing them with herself.

They did meet up, that much we do know. Testimonials from five different individuals confirmed that they saw the two girls at that café on Friday the 25th. What they talked about is up for speculation, because that stayed between the two of them. Why were testimonials needed if two young adults were just catching up over a cup of coffee? Because that was the last time Sadie Calhoun and Ekaterina 'Katie' Byers were seen alive.

Katie's eyelids drooped as she sat in the passenger seat of Sadie's car. Sadie - the 'good samaritan' that she was - had offered to drive Katie home after she suddenly felt light-headed following her coffee. Sadie parked in the driveway and opened Katie's door for her, helping her up as she tiredly hobbled towards the front door. Katie wearily collapsed onto the couch, her eyes barely registering the environment around her. She could hear faint crashing and shattering sounds as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She looked down upon the couch she was dozing on and sat up with a start.

"This isn't my house," she whispered to herself, scanning the room for any familiar objects. She froze in place when she spotted something utterly recognisable to her: her face. Hundreds of different angles of her face created a mosaic, a shrine to a friendship that was never meant to last.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Sadie smiled sweetly as she entered the room. "It couldn't be anything but. Not when the subject is as exquisite as you."

Confusion washed over Katie's face as Sadie approached her, a clothed parcel delicately held in her hands. Sadie reached up to caress her old friend's cheek; Katie snaked away from the touch, petrified of the girl in front of her.

"Hmm. That's the problem, isn't it?" Sadie soliloquised, her grey eyes meeting Katie's scared onyx eyes. "You stopped being Katie. You stopped being my best friend. I know Katie is living in those photos, not 'Ekaterina'. Katie wouldn't have left me. No, not at all. Forever isn't a term to just throw around."

Black tears dripped down Katie's face as she silently sobbed. "W-we were kids. What we were wa-wasn't healthy. We're two separate people, Sadie! I couldn't live being so connected to a shadow. I wanted t-to shine on my own."

"But I don't wanna be separate people! I want to be with you... to be you. To never be apart from you!" Sadie passionately yelled as Katie started to slump down in front of her. The world around her became dark as her lids closed tightly. As her consciousness drifted, a phrase echoed through her head.

"Don't worry now. We'll never be apart again."

*********

Excruciating pain emanating from her side woke her with a jolt. A dull haze covered her field of vision, but as she pulled her hand away from her waist, she could see it as clear as day. A warm layer of blood coated her hand like a glove. Her eyes slowly settled to the room she was in. Metres ahead of her was the collage of photos, but the furniture has been removed, leaving a wide-open space.

Her fingers felt around to find the source of the pain, coming across thick strands of string attached to her waist. A scream silently bubbled up inside her, threatening to explode.

Rough, uneven strands of double-wound fishing wire had been haphazardly sewn into both her and Sadie's sides, connecting them to each other.

A groggy smile spread across Sadie's plump cheeks as she revelled in her actions. "I told you we'll never be apart again."

An extreme shock was the only emotion Katie was able to come to terms with. Her body was statuesque; set in place by a fear-driven paralysis. A dryness inhabited her mouth, inhibiting her ability to swallow the truth in front of her. The room swayed and distorted around her - a prison cell painted with her face - as she forced her eyelids shut. This couldn't be reality. It was the sick dream of a girl trapped in the suffocating world of a teenage girl.

The pain Sadie felt in her abdomen only further fuelled her pleasure, letting every wave of pain wash over her in euphoric ecstasy. Her heart felt complete again as if she had regained a long-lost limb.

"I knew we'd become one again," Sadie hummed, intoxicated by being in Katie's presence. "Daisy was just a placeholder... keeping the bed warm for me. With every thread... every stitch... our closeness is now defined. We'll never be apart again. Best friends for life."

"...for...life," Katie mumbled, fresh blood weeping from her wounds.

Night and day passed slowly, the shadows cast from the pair forming contorted, misshapen dark splotches on the walls. A sickening warmth surrounded Katie, whose heartbeat pounded heavily in her ears. Her waist was bruising a deep purple, with the surrounding blood vessels snaking across her abdomen. Sadie was shaken awake by Katie's convulsions as her body became slick with a layer of sweat.

"Katie? I'm here, it's okay."

"I don't feel good... I want Daisy," Katie slurred, lazily searching the room for her partner.

The 'tethering' procedure was as wildly unsuccessful as one could imagine. Sadie's homemade suture kit - a sharpened metal knitting needle and fishing line - only managed to pierce through Katie's large intestine. Bile and stool seeped into her abdomen, eventually finding their way into her bloodstream. The coroner estimated she died two days later of septic shock.

A thin beam of light eclipsed the drawn curtains and rested on Sadie's face as dawn broke. Her hand moved softly to caress Katie's hand; a stiff claw lay in her wake. An overwhelming panic flooded Sadie's system as she attempted to wake the other girl from her 'deep' slumber. Half-lidded blood-red eyes stared back at Sadie, a trickle of dried blood pooled at her temple. Sadie's heart shattered like a golden locket as she cradled the limp body in her arms, pulling the skin taut around her suture wounds. The shadow had won. It had succeeded in snuffing out what was left of the light.

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

"What happened to Sadie in the end?" Axel asked, taking a minute amount of sadistic glee from the story.

Izzy turned to face the young man. A single tear crept down her cheek as she fiddled with her rings. "She refused to live without Katie. She starved to death, all the while she left Katie's decomposing corpse attached to her hip like a growth."

Izzy wiped the tear from her eye, suppressing sniffles as Axel glanced around the room.

"Hmm...Alright. Who's next then?"

[wicked-game-black-butler]

Themes of Kuroshitsuji

So, before I start on the specifics of the analysis, here's a little *chimes sounding* story time.  I found Kuroshitsuji about six years ago on a whim because Netflix kept suggesting it and I figured “A dark, supernatural, Victorian anime?  Sounds right up my alley”.  At the time, only the first two seasons of the anime were available and, even though I’m not sure it’s a very popular opinion, I honestly don’t know why I watched it all the way through...I think it was more of a "well, I started this, so I might as well see it through" sort of thing. 

Anyway, the first two seasons contained a lot of the content that I've seen those within and without the fandom take issue with (and that I didn't feel comfortable with, either): the sexualization of minors and of traumatic abuse, the minimization of the dark content of the series (sexual, physical, emotional abuse; grief; abusive relationships, etc.) through comedy and the like, and the sexual undertones of the relationships of the main characters (both minors) and their demon butlers.  Needless to say, this put me off the series and I just wrote it off as a story that had potential, but was executed poorly.  Fast forward three years to when I was talking with a friend about mangas she would recommend.  I asked if she had heard of Black Butler because I was curious to see if the manga was anything like the anime.  Since she wasn't really familiar with the manga, I decided to give it a go.  At first I was disappointed, as I saw several of the topics I took issue with in the first two seasons of the anime appear in the manga, however, as I made it to the Book of Circus Arc, I noticed a significant tonal change in the story.  Gone was the overly comical handling of the obviously dark material of the story, and I fell in love and have followed it ever since.

Kuroshitsuji is a story that I don't automatically recommend to others, not because I don't think it's a good story, but because of nature of the themes it addresses-I definitely would not recommend this manga for children.  However, I believe that the themes and questions that are addressed are ones that, as humans, we should take the time to consider.

Trauma-There are few characters in Kuroshitsuji that have not experienced some sort of trauma in their lives, but this is acutely realized with some of the younger characters.  O!Ciel and R!Ciel were kidnapped after their family was brutally murdered, tortured, and sexually abused.  Sieglinde was brainwashed, emotionally manipulated, and used by those around her for her prodigious intelligence. Finny was a product of scientific experiments and was forced to perform horrendous acts while he was in custody.  Mey-Rin was forced to make her own way on the streets of London, witnessed the murder of her two young friends, and was coerced into serving a drug lord who only wanted her for her abilities.  The main cast of Noah's Arc circus were outcasts of society, forced to scrape by on the streets until they were taken in by Baron Kelvin and manipulated into serving his abominable desires.  Throughout this series we are shown how people are shaped by the trauma they experience in life and how that affects their behavior moving forward.

Abuse- The examples I listed above are just some of the examples of abuse (sexual, physical, and mental) that are showcased in this story.  Another one I will add is the relationship between O!Ciel and Sebastian.  Their relationship, while on the surface, has the appearance of being beneficial and is sometimes used for comic relief, however, the truth is far more sinister.  Sebastian uses O!Ciel, manipulating and cultivating his soul into the perfect meal to sate his hunger once the contract is complete.  He has no concern for O!Ciel's well being outside of what is essential to keep the young master alive, even sometimes taking pleasure in his physical pain and suffering, save it is not life threatening.  He often times blames the earl for the unfortunate things that happen to him. Their relationship is toxic, each other using the other as a means to an end.

Relative morality and the nature of evil- Throughout the series, we encounter characters and situations that makes the reader question their moral beliefs and what they believe to be truly evil.  The Noah's Arc circus troupe kidnaps children who are then used in experiments, abused, and eventually killed or left so traumatized that they could never return to a normal life-but they did so because they were trying to protect the children from the factory and their own troupe, who were the only family they ever knew. This raises the question of which is more important, the greater portion of society or the people you love?  O!Ciel commits violent acts, cold blooded murder, is consumed by his pursuit of revenge, and deceives and uses those around him.  However, he is doing so in an effort to seek justice for the atrocities committed against him, touching on the debate of how far are we willing to justify the actions of someone who has been shaped by the things that are done to them.  Sebastian is cultivating the soul of a thirteen year old boy so he can eat it when the contract is completed.  However, given that he's a demon, the question is raised if he is really evil because he is simply acting within the confines of his nature.  He has to eat to survive, so he is merely doing what he must. (Just a note, I'm not saying I agree/disagree with any of these points, I'm just mentioning them because they are questions the story poses)

 The deceptive nature of beauty- This one is fairly simple to describe, but look at how Yana draws the characters...they are all beautiful, especially those who are evil/the most morally grey.  Unlike in stories like Lord of the Rings, Yana's villains aren't twisted or ugly or have the appearance that screams "hey, I'm evil!", rather, it's quite the opposite. One of the appeals of evil is that it is beautiful, deceptive, and disarming, something I think Yana has captured well.  There are times where readers can find themselves forgetting how dangerous characters like Sebastian, Vincent, or the Undertaker are until we are given a stark reminder of their motives.

The nature of humanity- In this series, the nature of humanity is pretty bleak.  There are only two groups presented-those who are the users and those who are used.  Humans are constantly striving for pointless dreams and don't care who they trample in their efforts for success.  Even Sebastian comments how there are humans who exist who are even worse than demons...now that's something to think about.

Some of the other themes/topics I noticed in this series that I don't have enough to say for their own bullet points are: betrayal (specifically how it often comes from those who we trust the most), deception, the worth of a human soul, the nature and consequences of revenge, and what it means to be human.

Overall, Kuroshitsuji is an excellent series that brings to question the less than savory aspects of life and humanity, while still telling a compelling story.  Were there any themes that I missed?  Any that you have a different take on?  I'm interested in hearing your thoughts. 

[dylinski]

Doppelganger Series

(moodboard made by @fan-child​  ♡ ♡)

Spitting Image (Part Five)

Warnings: Language, mild violence, graphic depictions of death (not a main character), the sheriff has a mental breakdown, stiles has a minor panic attack, LOTS OF ANGST, but also some funny shit, inappropriate use of “doppelganger sandwich” (don’t judge me)

Relationships: some Lytch (Mitch/Lydia)

Word Count: 10.2K (#sorry not sorry - don’t expect them to get any shorter)

Author: @dylinski

A/N: here’s the next part. took me a while and i kept changing things and adding things and removing things so apologies. theres just so much going on and so much i want to say. this chapter explains a lot more about the druid and who he is, although i may leave you with new questions lol. im trying to throw some romance in for you guys, but its just not really fitting in so i’ll keep trying. who do you want to see together?? not to sound like a comment whore, but feedback is tremendously appreciated since i’ve almost abandoned this story numerous times. heh. ALSO, big thanks to @sterekficrecs​​ for proofing this chaotic mess for me.  ♡ ♡ ♡

Lydia ran over to Scott who was holding Stiles’ limp body as Mitch followed close behind. She fell to her knees and grabbed his arms while examining him. Mitch looked over to Thomas who was standing stiffly, hugging himself, and shot a hard look before he heard Scott shouting his name.

“Mitch! Stiles’ dad is coming with the cops. You need to take Lydia and Thomas and get out of here. NOW!” Scott’s voice was strained and panicked. Mitch just gave him a curt nod of understanding and reached down to tentatively touch Lydia’s shoulder.

They were all panicking, honestly, after what they just saw. Stiles, weak, skinny and defenseless Stiles, just lit up like a Christmas tree and took out a swarm of armed guards and a whole building, but there was so much happening that none of them had the time to process it correctly. Lydia was whimpering next to Stiles, clinging to him and begging him to wake up. Mitch went in to grab her, but she pulled away not wanting to leave his side. Scott and Mitch exchanged looks when the alpha decided to speak up.

“Lydia, he’s okay. I can hear his heart beating. He’s breathing. Ambulances are going to be here any second and I’ll make sure that he gets to one, but you need to go with Mitch and Thomas. We can’t have two doppelgangers running around Beacon Hills alone.” Mitch pursed his lips at the boy and rolled his eyes, but Lydia nodded and stood up. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked at Mitch with anguish. Mitch would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous, but he also understood. They were close and everything pointed to Stiles being hopelessly in love with the girl.

Lydia walked over to the third doppelganger who was lost in his own mind. “Thomas?” He jumped at her light touch on his arms that were cradling his chest. “We should go. You can come with us.” Still not entirely sure what was happening, or if any of it was even real, Thomas nodded and followed them to Lydia’s car.

“Isaac,” Scott called out, “I’m going to stay here with Stiles. Go find Allison, I’ll call you if we need anything.” Isaac took the orders from his alpha and nodded as he turned on his foot and ran towards the building to find his girlfriend.

One minute later, sirens were blaring and the first cop cars pulled into the large backlot with their flashing lights veiling everything in reds and blues. Stiles was still unconscious, laying in Scott's arms. Scott waved to the vehicles, signaling them to his position as the Sherrif’s SUV stopped. Stiles' dad jumped out before the thing had even fully stopped, door wide open and the engine still running.

“Stiles! Stiles!” He ran to his son and leaned down, pulling him from Scott’s arms. “What happened to my son!?” The sheriff’s words came through gritted teeth that were laced with fear and anger.

Before Scott could answer, Stiles was swept up into his father's arms and being carried away towards an ambulance that had just parked. A paramedic climbed out of the back and met them halfway. They laid Stiles on a gurney and were running tests and making sure he wasn’t injured or bleeding. Scott cautiously lingered nearby to make sure his friend was, in fact, okay. The medic was asking the sheriff some questions about Stiles’ medical history when the boy groaned. Everyone stopped and jolted their attention to him. The medic was throwing questions at him, “Stiles? Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?” He shined a light into his eyes and Stiles raised his hand to block it out.

“What?” He sat up on his elbows and everything started to come back. “Yeah. Yeah, I know where I am.” He groaned again as he moved, his whole body aching like he just ran a ten-mile marathon. The paramedic checked out Stiles some more before he was satisfied with the boy’s state, then he headed towards the group of other boys being guided out through the gaping hole in the building.

“Stiles…” Noah spoke softly to his son.

Stiles adjusted himself again, wincing subtly while sitting up, “I’m okay dad really--”

The soft look of fear on his father's face turned to rage when he was content with his safety and he cut off his son. “What were you thinking!?” Stiles halted and his eyes grew wide as he stared at his father. “If you think I don’t know it was you who left the ‘anonymous’ tip, you’d be sorely mistaken. What were you even doing here, Stiles?” His father finally took a breath and the young boy pouted his lips with raised eyebrows, waiting to make sure it was safe for him to speak.

“We were…” Stiles looked over to Scott as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to soothe out a kink. Scott just gave him a face that read, ‘don’t look at me’. Stiles rolled his eyes and looked back to his father who was still fuming. He opened his mouth to speak when deputy Parrish ran up.

“Sheriff, we found forty-nine boys in the sublevel basement…” Parrish tore his eyes from Noah and looked to Stiles for a short second, “...just like the anonymous tip said.” Awesome, Jordan knew it was Stiles who called too.

The sheriff scrunched up his features, similar to the way Stiles does so often and turned back to his son. With a pointed finger, he spoke harshly, “I’m not finished with you,” then he followed Parrish to the building.

Scott walked over to his friend and started to chuckle. “Shut up, man,” Stiles whined as he reached out with yearning fingers for his friend to help him off the gurney. He hopped down and wobbled a bit before he found his balance. They started to walk to the jeep when Stiles looked over to the missing wall of the building, stopping in his tracks. He turned to Scott with a questioning brow and eyes full of confusion.

Scott looked just as baffled, “What?”

“The wall! What happened to it?” Stiles gestured towards the hole demandingly.

“You don’t remember?” Stiles shook his head, thinking he would never forget something like that. They both started for the baby blue vehicle again when Scott asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Stiles stilled abruptly and tipped his head in thought, “We were running from the guards with Thomas and— Wait, how did we get out?” Scott looked at the ground and scuffed his shoe against the pavement thinking he really didn’t want to poke that bear right now, especially since he didn’t fully understand what had happened himself. Stiles picked up on it and shrugged his shoulders as they took the few steps left to the jeep and got in, headed for his house.

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

Lydia used her key that Stiles gave her forever ago to unlock the door to the Stilinski home and they went up into Stiles’ room. Mitch guided Thomas by his bicep up the stairs and gruffly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed as Lydia paced back and forth. Mitch walked over and blocked her path as he grabbed her shoulders and held her at a distance. She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and picking at her cuticles apprehensively.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Lydia was avoiding his gaze, but Mitch touched a light finger to her chin, lifting her head up to meet his eyes half-heartedly. “It's going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.” She gave him a soft smile just as Thomas cleared his throat and stood up.

“Is anybody going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Thomas was beyond confused and frustrated. It was like being thrust into the maze all over again with no memory, but this time his only memories were that of the world he had left behind, a vague fog veiling them like a distant dream.

Lydia walked over to him and took a deep breath, composing herself. “We need to wait for Stiles, he’ll explain everything when he gets here.” “Who? Crazy glow stick boy!?” Mitch snorted at the statement and Lydia shot him a hard look before she turned back to Thomas and rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Yes. He knows what happened to you, but we don’t, so we’re going to just have to wait.” Lydia offered assurance.

Thomas let out a long huff and frustration filled him to the brim. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything!? This is bullshit! You guys know something! Why did Stiles call that kid with the red eyes a werewolf? Why did he have red eyes? How did he have claws? What happened to Stiles? Why did he light up? What the hell is he? Why do I look like him? Why do I look like you? What the hell is a doppelganger and why did the glowy eye kid call me one? Why was I in that place? Why can’t I remember anything other than the maze? What were they doing to me?”

Thomas was shouting his spew of questions and stepped too close into Lydia’s personal space. Before he could spit out any more queries Mitch was at him in less than a second. He pushed the smaller boy back onto the bed hard, stepping between him and Lydia. He let out a small growl at the kid’s face immediately melted into compliance.

Lydia groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead. She glowered at Mitch and he rolled his eyes, then turned to the other boy to make a threatening glare and stepped away. Thomas responded with a mocking face and crossed his arms.

“Thomas, we’re going to answer all your questions, okay?” Lydia’s voice was soft now and she gave him an easy smile. “We just need—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. We just need to wait for Stiles.” Thomas rolled his eyes and was done talking to both of them.

There were a couple of minutes filled with silence before they heard the front door open then two sets of hard footsteps trailing towards the bedroom. The door swung open and Stiles halted in its frame, giving Lydia a look of confusion. “Whaaaat are you guys doing here?”

Lydia flared her nostrils and looked to Scott who just shrugged. When no one said anything, she threw her arms up and finally answered. “Well, I’m not taking them to my house. Where else am I supposed to take a bunch of doppelgangers?”

Stiles nodded in annoyed agreement as Thomas stood up in frustration. “There’s that word again! What the hell is a doppelganger!?” Mitch started towards the boy, but Lydia held her arm out to stop him. He relaxed at her touch, but only slightly. Stiles was about to answer Thomas when the front door opened again and everyone froze.

“STILES. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE.” It was his dad.

Everyone stood in motionless silence as eyes traded skittish glances between the five of them. When no one moved to come up with a solution, Stiles rolled his eyes and groaned. “You three stay here and be quiet.”

Lydia shot him a look and whisper-shouted, “Well, obviously.” Stiles made a mocking smile and walked off, then Scott closed the bedroom door with his lips in a thin line and followed him downstairs.

Stiles rushed down the steps and saw his father standing in the living room with his fingers holding the bridge of his nose. He looked up to see the two boys as he pulled in his lips and shook his head. He waggled his finger at them, “You two…” Stiles held up his hands in surrender as his father pointed to the couch and ordered them to sit down. His dad followed and sat in the armchair diagonally from them.

They all sat in silence for a time while Stiles’ father collected his thoughts, making no attempt to mask his fury. Eventually, his father found enough strength to speak calmly, but his voice was still jagged and laced with ire. “What were you two doing there?” 

Stiles and Scott looked perplexed as they exchanged glances. “Would you believe we were in the neighborhood?” Stiles shrugged with an optimistic grimace. A throaty grumble sounded from his father.

Obviously, Noah wasn’t going to get a straight answer, so he moved on to the next question. “How did you know about the kids?”

Stiles winced, “Lucky guess?” His father lost the little composure he had left and shot a look that could kill at his son.

“Would either of you like to explain to me the missing wall!?” 

Stiles raised his hands and smirked, “Uh, that one I actually have no idea.” The sheriff looked to Scott who was scared shitless. Again, not poking that bear yet. Stiles just rolled his eyes at his friend, not understanding why he won’t tell anyone what happened.

Noah huffed and was growing more irritated by the second with the lack of cooperation. “Well, what am I supposed to do with you two? Huh?” Stiles shrugged again and seemed unphased by his father. Listing each item off with his fingers, Noah spoke, “We have breaking and entering, theft, destruction of property, assault, kidnapping…” Stiles jerked his head at ‘kidnapping’ and donned confusion. “Yeah, kidnapping Stiles. There were fifty beds in that basement and we only found forty-nine boys.”

Stiles looked at Scott and gulped visibly. If his dad wasn’t sure if they knew anything before, he was positive they did now. Stiles turned to his dad, his voice uneasy, “We have no idea—”

“Stiles!” His father cut him off and held up his hand. “I’m done playing these games. You need to tell me what the hell is going on right now before I lock you up myself. Is that what it’s going to take to keep you out of trouble? Because I’m getting tired of this, son.” 

Stiles looked at his feet and picked at his fingers as the guilt hit him hard. He never means to cause his father this much stress and frustration, it just kind of comes along with the package of having Stiles as a son. He looked up at Scott who shrugged a shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile. Stiles knew Scott thought it was a good idea to tell his dad, he had told him that when it all started, but it wasn’t his place to.

Stiles looked to his father, took in an agonizing breath and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. How do you tell someone this? How do you even start? ‘Hey Dad, I’m one of three doppelgangers, that we know of, of an evil druid who’s thousands of years old. Oh yeah, he’s immortal too!’ This isn’t something you can just say to your father. How is he supposed to tell him that his eyes, his mother’s eyes, aren’t actually his?

His dad used to drink after she passed and when he was drunk one night he mentioned how he looked just like his mother. Her eyes, lips, nose, and especially her smile. How does he tell him those aren’t even his? Is there a good way to tell someone that their son isn't their son because he’s not even sure if he’s a real person himself, but just some copy of the original?

Tears started to well in Stiles’ eyes and his voice croaked when he spoke. “Dad…” The word sounded foreign in his tongue like it didn’t belong to him. Was he technically still his son? His father reoriented in his seat, his posture changing from offensive to concerned. “You have to promise you won’t freak out, okay?” Stiles peered at his father from behind his clasped hands, filled with trepidation.

His father leaned forward onto his knees, more disquieted than angry now. “Son, it’s okay. You can tell me.” He saw the fear in his child's eyes and wanted nothing more than to snatch it away. He wanted to take it all, all the pain and hurt Stiles had ever felt and will feel. That’s his son and he has a primal need to protect him, but he felt like he’d utterly failed in that department. He keeps trying, but he can’t protect his son if he doesn’t know what the threat is.

Stiles continued to struggle with his words and Scott noticed. He nudged Stiles’ knee with his own and gave him a soft smile of reassurance. “It’s your dad, Stiles. He’ll love you no matter what.” As if his best friend could read his mind, that was exactly what he needed to hear.

Stiles cleared his throat and sat up straight, “Dad, I’m a doppelganger.” His father's face turned to confusion and Stiles realized his dad had no clue what he was talking about. “A doppelganger is like...a copy of someone else.” His father’s face was even more distraught. Okay, that explanation didn’t help. Stiles sighed and looked to Scott for help, but was offered none. “A doppelganger is like having a twin, dad, but the two people aren’t related. They’re exactly the same; their face, voice, everything.”

Noah held his chin as he processed the information provided to him. He let his hand fall as he opened his mouth, but only silence escaped. He adjusted himself in his seat and Stiles started to bounce his leg with nervousness. “So...you’re a....dobble wanker?”

Stiles sat up straight with wide eyes and waved his hands outwards, “Oh God, dad, no. That’s— No just— That’s not it at all.” His father made an unamused face at him. “Doppelganger. It’s doppelganger. Please never say that again.”

His father groaned and wrapped his fingers around his brow in frustration, “Stiles, I think I would know if my son was…” He was struggling with the word again so he motioned vaguely, “...one of those things.”

“Well dad, you would think that, but I had no idea myself until about a week ago.” His father shot him a glance and Stiles immediately cringed, realizing his mistake.

“A WEEK!? THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR A WEEK?! Oh, it all makes sense now. The staying out late, not answering my calls or texts, answering my questions with more questions or changing the subject. The half-truths and talking in circles. But I still don’t believe you’re a...whatever you call it.”

Stiles’ head fell into his hands as he realized his father wasn’t going to believe him without any evidence. While his father was well aware of the supernatural world and the creatures that lived in it, he was a man of facts and logic. The type of person who needed to see in order to believe. He groaned because the last thing he wanted to do was bring Thomas or Mitch downstairs. He was convinced his father would have a heart attack if he saw one of them, but alas, what other choice did he have at this point? “I can show you. There are...three of us that we know of if you’re not including the original.”

“Three!? What do you mean there are three of you? Original? Stiles, for the last time, you are not a dingle wacker.” Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not even bothering to correct his father this time.

“Give me a sec.” Stiles pushed off the couch with haste and lost his balance for a short second, forgetting how weak he really felt after passing out earlier. Scott grabbed is hip to help balance him, but Stiles brushed him off and mouthed ‘I’m fine.’ His father was shouting his name as he made his way up the steps, protesting him leaving. He got to his room and opened the door to see Mitch and Lydia arguing in hushed tones in the corner while Thomas was still sitting on the bed like a child who just had his toy taken away. “Mitch.” The older man looked up with question and Stiles just jerked his head towards the hallway. All of them knew what Stiles was asking so Lydia looked to her friend with uncertainty, but he gave her a forced smile. 

Stiles turned and winced as it took all his energy to dredge himself back downstairs. The last thing he needed was everyone worried about his physical state in the middle of this chaotic muddle. Mitch followed him to the top of the staircase until Stiles stopped and held out a hand. “You look like shit.”

Stiles sighed and looked at his reflection in Mitch’s eyes. They were like dark brown oceans that could swallow you whole. “I’m okay.” Mitch huffed and crossed his arms, not believing him.

Stiles turned and descended down the steps to prepare his father.

“Okay, I know you don’t believe me, because honestly, I wouldn’t have believed it myself, so I’m going to show you.” Stiles paused and took a deep and reassuring breath. “Dad, you have to not freak out because the last thing I need is you going into cardiac arrest.”

“Stiles, I am not going to have a heart attack. What are you talking about?” The sheriff had his arms crossed over his chest and rolled his eyes familiarly.

His son waved up to the top of the steps and a body slowly came down. When his face came into view, Stiles swore everyone in the room could hear the sound of his heart beating outside of his chest. The room was so silent that is was deafening, and everyone was too scared to break it. Mitch stood next to Stiles with a bored face as he crossed his arms and looked to the old man sitting in the chair. Stiles looked between Mitch and his father, but there was nothing. It was like they had frozen in place and he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. He looked to Scott who was just as terrified as he was.

His father finally stood up and walked over to the identical boys. He stood in front of the older of the two and looked him over, invading his space. He was taller than his son, but not by much. His hair was longer too, and the presence of a beard and mustache where Stiles still couldn’t manage one. There was a permanent line on his brow, something that was etched into his skin from the constant furrow of his forehead.

Noah crossed his arms and squinted like he was trying to read one of those posters with the letters when you go to the eye doctor. He started to make noises of curiosity here and there, lightening the tone of the group. He was analyzing Mitch like someone would a sculpture in an art museum.

Stiles’ eyes widened as he slowly made his way to Scott, his father not even noticing. He whispered from the corner of his mouth, refusing to break his lock on his father and Mitch, “Scott, what’s happening? Why isn’t he saying anything?” His friend shook his head, just as perplexed as him.

His father finally broke the silence and everyone looked to him. “Alright. Okay.” He started to walk towards the chair. “This is okay.”

“Uhm, yup. I broke him. He’s broken. My father has officially lost his marbles.” Scott just quietly chuckled at Stiles’ discomfort and despair.

“We’re all okay.” Noah sat down in the chair and let out a long sigh and the room fell quiet again, but only for a moment. His father let out a loud and unending scream that drew shock from the whole house.

“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! This is worse! This is much much worse! Scott, make it stop! How do I make it stop!?” Stiles was frantically babbling and beginning to have a minor panic attack, his breaths becoming uneven and short. Scott just tried to comfort him.

Mitch looked to Stiles and then his screaming father and rolled his eyes as he spoke, “Great, it’s genetic.”

Lydia sauntered down the steps and tried to speak over the shouting and panic, “What is going on?” Both of the Stilinski’s were too self-involved at the moment to even notice her presence.

Mitch sighed and pointed to Stiles, “Well that one is having a panic attack,” He pointed to the older man, “and that one is having a mental breakdown.”

Lydia sighed and turned as she heard Thomas hopping down the steps two at a time behind her and Mitch. “I told you to stay upstairs.”

Just as Thomas went to speak, Noah turned and saw the third doppelganger. His shouts had died down, but they picked up again and were now laced with profanities. He was babbling nonsense and holding his head for fear it would roll off his shoulders. Thomas was starting to panic and become defensive. Everything in his body made his legs twitch and beg him to run, just run as far away from all of them and this ridiculousness as you could and not look back.

Lydia had enough of all of them, so she used her banshee voice, a demanding and humbling tone. “ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP.”

As if it had flipped a switch, everyone shut their mouths and it was silent again. They all looked to her submissively and in awe. “Now, are you all a bunch of children? Because that is exactly how you’re acting. Stop throwing your tantrums and use your words.” She turned to the sheriff, “Yes, Stiles is a doppelganger. This is Mitch and the other one is Thomas.” She turned over to Stiles, “Pull it together. You’re not helping your father, he needs you right now.” Then she turned to Mitch who was laughing under his breath. “And you, this is not funny. Just because you have this whole I don’t care thing going on doesn’t mean that everyone else doesn’t.” His ever so slight smile disappeared as he took offense to her words. “Since everyone has been put in their place,” she grabbed her coat off the chair at the kitchen table, “I am going home because I am way too tired and unprepared to deal with all of this.” With that, she walked out of the door and left the men to fend for themselves in stunned silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Allison opened her eyes and saw nothing but black. She was lying on the cold rigid floor with her hands bound behind her back. She couldn’t help but run her tongue across the cloth that was between her teeth to muffle any noise she would attempt to make. She managed to sit herself up and started to wiggle her shoulders in an effort to shake the ropes loose. She went to pull a small knife from her arm when a chilling and familiar voice broke through the darkness.

“If you’re looking for the blade in your sleeve, don’t bother.”

Allison froze and searched the void for the person who spoke, but she couldn’t see more than three inches in front of her face. She had other weapons hidden on her person, but it was safe to assume that the man found them all. She continued to blink, trying to differentiate the darkness from movement, and could have sworn she saw something red pass quickly.

Her body stiffened when she felt a contrasting warmth to the air of the room, becoming aware that the man was now close to her. He must have been squatting behind her because he was whispering into her ear now. “If you’re still wondering what my name is, I have two. My given name…” he sounded disgusted by the thought, “...and my chosen name.” He was much more satisfied with the idea of the chosen name. He circled around in front of her and loosened the fabric in her mouth, letting it fall around her neck as she wet her dry lips. He squatted back down so they were now face to face with only a small distance between them.

Her eyes, now adjusting to the obfuscation of the room they were in, she could just make out her captor’s face. “I’m assuming you want me to ask you what they are?” Allison’s throat was sore and cracked when she spoke, the dry air not a friend to her parched mouth.

The man chuckled and stood to tower over her. “You can call me Morfran.”

Allison pulled in her brows. “You chose that?”

“Why are you so surprised?” He was genuinely curious as to what her thoughts were.

“Morfran was the name of a soldier to King Arthur in Welsh mythology. His skin was charcoal black and so hideous that no one would strike him in battle for fear he was a demon.” 

“I’m impressed. You know your welsh mythology. You forget what the meaning of the name is though. Morfran, great crow, bringer of death.”

Allison shuddered at the idea. “So is that what you’re going to do? Kill me?” She held back her fear, but it was still evident in her voice.

“Maybe.” Morfran seemed indifferent on the matter like he hadn’t entirely made his mind up yet.

“Then what are you going to do with me?”

Morfran was squatting next to her again, close enough to feel his hot breath against her cheek. “You’re going to tell me about your friends.” Allison opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get out any words she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck and a silent scream escaped her lips. Her eyes rolled back into her head and everything went dark.

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

After Lydia left, Mitch and Thomas went back to Stiles’ room while he continued to explain everything that had happened during the last few days to his dad. When his father's head was thoroughly spinning, he tried to absorb what he could before he left to finish his shift and the mountain of paperwork his son had just caused him. Stiles was drained and tired on top of still being in pain, everywhere. He was going to kick the boys out of his room so he could sleep. When he got up from the couch with Scott, Isaac flew through the door and looked like he was about to break down into tears.

Scott ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders. Isaac was trying to speak but his breaths were shallow and deep like he had been running for hours. “Isaac, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He looked at Scott with weary eyes and a forehead full of lines. “She’s gone. I can’t find her.”

“What? What are you talking about? Who’s gone?” Scott was trying to calm the beta down while pressing for answers.

Just as Isaac was about to speak, Stiles cut him off, “Allison.”

They got Isaac to the couch and he explained to the two other boys what had happened. “After you told me to get Allison, I went up to the roof, but she wasn’t there. Her bow and knife were on the ground, but that’s all I could find of her. Not even a scent. I thought I could smell another wolf, but I assumed it was just me since I’m still not very good with tracking and scenting. I just don’t get why I couldn’t catch hers. I went to her house to see if she was there, but it was empty. I got one of her shirts and followed the smell to the edge of town, but then it just disappeared. When I lost it, I came right here.”

He looked between Stiles and Scott who were standing in front of him, waiting frantically for a response. They were both fixated on the floor while deep in thought. Isaac was growing impatient, so he shot up from the couch and raised his voice. “Well!? We have to find her!”

“Woah, Isaac. It’s okay.” Scott reached out to comfort his beta, and it seemed to help. Isaac relaxed a bit and slumped back down into the cushions.

Stiles looked up while rubbing his chin and gave Scott a worrying face. He darted his eyes towards Isaac and then back, implying he didn’t want to say what he was thinking. He jerked his head towards the kitchen and Scott lead them in that direction. Stiles spoke in a hushed tone, “What if…” He took a staggering breath and knew he would immediately regret it after he said it, but continued, “What if it’s the druid?”

Scott’s eyes grew and he was shocked, the possibility never occurred to him. Stiles side-eyed Isaac on the couch, picking at the end of the armrest perpetually. “Scott, we need to go look for her. We can't leave her out there with him. We know nothing about him. He could be capable of anything and from what Deaton told us, or lack thereof, he doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”

Stiles went to grab his coat he had tossed onto the kitchen counter when Scott took his arm. “No, you can’t.” Stiles shot Scott a baffled glance and Scott shook his head. “You’re in no condition, and Isaac and I would have better luck anyways. You need to stay here and rest, talk to Thomas. I can hear his heart all the way down here. He reeks of anxiety and stress.”

Stiles let out a small sigh, thankful for the suggestion, but he still felt the guilt in the pit of his stomach. He should be out there, she’s his friend too. Scott was right though, what could he do but slow the wolves down? He nodded and watched as Scott called out to Isaac. His friend gave him a reassuring smile before the two of them left.

Stiles sat down in the kitchen at the counter and closed his eyes, allowing himself to finally breathe. A flash of white invaded the darkness of his lids and he jumped up, his whole body rigid and tense. “What the hell..?” He looked down and examined the tops and bottoms of his hands, then shook his head like it was all just a dream. 

His attention was grabbed by the sounds of arguing upstairs and he slouched, rolling his eyes and letting his head fall back. “Seriously?“ The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his two twins. Twins? Triplets? Or just doppelgangers? Honestly, Stiles wasn’t sure what to call them but all he could focus on was his bed and how ardently it called to him. He dragged himself to his room sluggishly and opened the door to shouting.

“What is wrong with you? Did someone shit in your shoe or something?” Thomas was standing chest to chest with Mitch, both of them fuming and locked in their gaze. Despite the obvious four inches Mitch had on the boy, he didn’t seem to be intimidated.

Mitch pulled his lips into a thin line and his eyes widened like he was preparing to headbutt the sucker, just as Stiles ran over. He pushed his way between the two of them and shouted, “Hey, hey, hey! Now, let's not all overreact.” The other two were still staring at each other and Stiles was now stuck between them like a doppelganger sandwich, instantly regretting the impulse to put himself in this position.

Through gritted teeth, Mitch refused to give any headway, “I’m not the one overreacting.” He pressed in further, pushing Stiles tighter between the two of them.

“Oh my God,” Stiles whispered under his breath. Despite all the fighting Stiles had learned to do over the years, it wasn’t natural to him. He was a lover if he really thought about it, but these two, they were undoubtedly born and bread fighters. All Stiles could think about was how he was going to be some sort of causality of war. He managed, somehow, to wiggle his way free and was now standing lateral to the others, forming a triangle.

“Guys, guys. Just take it easy, okay?” They both turned to glare at his unwelcome antics and Stiles took an unknowing step back. Come on, he just wanted to sleep. He was so exhausted, still not entirely sure why, not to mention his body in a constant state of aching.

“This kid won’t stop asking questions!” Mitch seemed less assertive than five seconds ago, but that wasn’t saying much.

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest defensively and spouted out yet another question. “Why are you acting like such a dickhead?” He turned to Stiles, “Sergeant asshole and the redhead kept saying I had to wait for you to explain everything. No one will tell me shit!”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak and raised his hand while the other rested on his hip, but he stilled. Glancing over at Mitch, he closed his mouth and pursed his lips not entirely sure where to start.

A look of annoyance was growing on Thomas’ face and Stiles knew he had to answer his questions. He sighed and got light-headed, both boys leaning in to catch him as he started to keel over.

~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell!?” Stiles sat up, putting all his weight onto his right hand while rubbing above his left eye with the other. He heard a groan to his left and saw Thomas pulling himself up from the floor to lean against the end of his bed. He looked over to Mitch and saw that there was no movement. He crawled over to him and looked him over with alarm. “Mitch! Mitch! Dude, wake up!” He wasn’t stirring so he grabbed his shoulders and gave him a timid shake. “Hey, man, you gotta open your eyes, okay?” He leaned down and turned his ear to his nose and mouth and could hear his small, steady breaths. Stiles fell back onto his butt and hands and sighed in relief.

“What was that?” Stiles turned to Thomas who had managed to sit on the bed. He decided he was too drained and whatever the hell had kicked his ass to the ground didn’t help, so he laid down on the floor next to Mitch. He let his right hand slap onto his stomach and he twiddled the ends of his hair with the other which was raised over his head.

“Honestly, I don’t know dude.” Stiles found solace in starting up at the ceiling and, for the first time, Thomas was quiet.

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

Allison gasped for breath and sat up abruptly in the middle of a green pasture. She looked around, her long hair dancing around her face like a frame. Standing up, she tried to place her surroundings but found them unrecognizable. She could hear people in the distance, so she started in the direction of the voices.

She found herself in a village filled with wooden homes and tents, animals and many laughing children. The women wore long cloth dresses, simple pieces that were sewn together. The men were wearing large shirts and pants that tucked tight around their waists. Everything was primitive compared to the world she knew—simple lives.

None of the villagers seemed to notice her as she made her way through the small grouping and she found a hut tucked away at the edge of the development. Something from inside it pulled at her, so she went to it sluggishly, passing through its entrance.

Inside the structure, a man and women traded hushed whispers. Allison couldn’t quite make out their words. Something about wrong and mistake. They were both undoubtedly frightened as the man tried to comfort the woman.

Allison was completely still, but the world around her began to blur until it moved. She was in the woods, watching four young boys from a distance. Three of the bigger ones looked to be bullying the smaller fourth one. Anger evident on the little ones face, his fists closed and jaw clenched. The others were throwing slurs at him, saying he was puny and weak, and he wouldn’t survive the winter.

The world shifted again, the little boy now standing in front of the same woman she saw before, but older. She was yelling at him to control it. No one could know what he was, what he hid inside of himself. If anyone found out, they would kill him out of fear.

As if she were the boy herself, she felt a hot fury in her stomach. That’s what the boy wanted, to be feared. His mother seemed to change in stature and become more loving, telling him how she feared for him and didn’t know what she would do if she lost him. The boy relaxed as well and they embraced one another.

Everything swirled and Allison was in the woods again but enveloped in darkness, the only source of light beaming from the full moon above her. She heard a reverberating howl from an unknown place and spun her head out of instinct, her hair flowing with the movement. She precipitously felt under threat and discovered her feet moving without thought. She was running through the trees, panting with each step that connected with the ground. Realizing there was no immediate danger, she stopped and looked around. She took in her surroundings in an attempt to figure out where she was.

Movement some feet away caught her attention and she snapped her head in that direction. She heard growling and it was soon met with a figure revealing from the brush. A white wolf, with cutting ruby iris’.

A voice shouted from the distance, “Maccon!” The wolf tore his gaze from Allison and looked to its location. He glanced back at the girl with intrigue and then dashed towards the person who had called for him.

The world around Allison went black and she felt cold, a pain radiating at the base of her skull. Something tore from her neck and she fell over on the ground that was stealing warmth from her body. She was back from whatever journey she had taken.

Keeping her eyes open was a struggle, the room she was in spinning in a dizzying trance. Morfran walked into her vision and leaned forward over her, a devious smile on his lips. 

“Maccon,” Allison whispered so quietly it couldn’t have been heard by human ears. Morfran’s cheeky grin melted away and turned down, his nose twitching with anger. Then her eyes closed and there was nothing.

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

He hadn’t realized it, but Stiles started to drift off. Somewhere in the midst of the haze between consciousness and sleep, Thomas broke the easy silence. “Is Sergeant asshole okay? Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Stiles shifted his head to get a good look at Mitch whose chest was rising and falling with ease.

“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s tough as nails.” He could hear Thomas humming in response and let his eyes close again. “He doesn't hate you, you know? He's just...guarded. Doesn’t trust easily. Hell, I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t entirely trust me. Just give him some time.” Thomas thrummed acknowledgment.

“What are we?” Thomas sounded like a small child, but Stiles had no energy left to offer any sort of comfort. He just answered his questions as well as he could while fighting his fatigue.

“Uh, we’re doppelgangers. Like...copies, I guess.”

“Copies?”

“Yeah. We look the same and sound the same, but we’re not related. Clones if you really think about it. Supernatural clones.”

“If we’re clones, who’s the original?”

“We don’t know much about him, but he’s a druid, someone who practices magic. Supposedly he’s some super evil dude who wanted to be super powerful and fucked with some shit he shouldn’t have. That’s how we were made, I guess.”

“Oh.” Thomas seemed unsure of the answers, trying to process it all but everything was so uncertain to him. He had just been ripped from a world he thought was his own only to discover it wasn’t even real. It felt like it was, so how was he supposed to tell if this was real or not either. “How did you find me?”

“A dream, oddly enough. It was like I was you, and I was running in this stone maze. There was this kid running with me--”

“Minho,” Thomas spoke softly when his name passed his lips, almost like he was afraid someone would hear it.

“Yeah, I guess. But we were running and there was this ugly ass monster thing straight out of a sci-fi movie, but I, erm, I mean you killed it. Did that really happen?”

“Yeah.”

“Badass,” Stiles spoke with a smile growing on his face as he heard a breathy laugh from Thomas.

“Why was I there? What was Wicked doing to me?”

“From what I could tell, they were experimenting on you, but I don’t know why. Everything that happened to you wasn’t real. It was an artificial reality, so kind of all in your head.”

“Do I have a family?” This question startled Stiles. He opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows to look at the other boy. He was still sitting in the same spot he had last seen him, looking down at Stiles.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have a family.” Stiles smiled sympathetically and Thomas tried to return it, but it was too sad to pass. Stiles hadn’t thought about that. They had probably been missing him and looking for him. He made it his mission to find his parents in that moment. Once they figured all this shit out, he’d get Thomas home.

Thomas looked towards the window, “Then why didn’t they come for me?” Stiles tried to answer but didn’t have one this time. He just looked the boy over, who couldn’t be more than sixteen. His hair was a little shorter than Stiles’ and his bangs fell down onto his face. He was surprisingly skinnier than Stiles too, but also less lanky. His features were softer than the other two boys like he’d been through a lot but refused to give up hope. Stiles laughed internally, he could use some more of that, always the pessimist.

“What the fuck?” Stiles was shaken from his trance and turned his head to look at Mitch who was grabbing at his head.

“Hey! Welcome back to the land of the living.” He offered a half-genuine, half-mocking smile.

“God, why are you on the floor? Why am I on the floor?”

“Dunno. We all just kinda passed out or something. It was when--” Stiles shook his head and sat all the way up, pulling his legs into a criss-cross. “Dudes, it was when you both touched me at the same time! We were all touching. It must have done something!”

“Great,” Mitch groaned as he pushed himself off the floor and sat in Stiles’ computer chair. “We’ll add it to the list of crazy shit doppelgangers can do.”

“Yeah! Wait, what?” Stiles turned back to face Mitch again.

“The wall?” Stiles stared blankly, blinking his eyes in response. “You know? The big gaping hole in the side of the building?” He shrugged his shoulders, still not understanding what Mitch was getting at.

“You turned into a freaking glowstick!” Thomas grew impatient so he tore the band-aid clean off.

Stiles jumped up from the floor, “I did what!?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” Mitch was still rubbing the back of his head on the spot that collided with the floor.

“Mitch, I think I’d remember turning into a damn firefly.”

Thomas stood up next to Stiles, “Well, you did. You were so bright no one could look at you. It was like this white light and it looked like lightning was shooting out of you. Oh! And you’re eyes were gold.” Stiles was exasperated and his hands flew in all directions around his head as he twisted his features, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Don’t forget the wall,” Mitch added.

Thomas nodded at him, “Yeah, and you blew the wall off the side of the building with your mind.”

“MY MIND?!” The vein in Stiles’ neck was prominent and Mitch kind of thought he might have an aneurysm.

Mitch leaned forward in the chair and licked his lips, “Stiles, do you remember the book we found in that vet’s office?”

Stiles turned abruptly from Thomas to face Mitch, “Deaton? Yeah. Why?”

“Didn’t it say something about…” Mitch looked up to Stiles like he was failing at finding the right word, “...powers?”

Stiles contemplated and it hit him like a train. “Elements! The three druid elements!”

“The what?” Thomas scratched his head and Stiles turned back and forth between the two of them.

Making a thinking face and an odd noise, Stiles held his hands out in front of him. He turned to Thomas and started to explain using his limbs as emphasizers. “Okay. So, a couple of days ago, before we knew about you, we found this book—“

“Illegally.” Stiles let his hands drop to his sides and emitted a sigh as he turned to Mitch, giving him the stink eye.

Turning back to Thomas, “Whatever. We found a book that said the druid, who mentioned earlier, decided some thousand years ago, or whatever, to get all grabby hands with power and made himself immortal. He used the three druid elements. Calas, things that are physical and how it’s all connected. Earth, land, the body, matter. Gwyar, the ebb and flow of life and instability of it all. Water, the sea, energy, the source of life itself. And Nwyfre, what makes up everything. That bit of us that could be called our soul or spirit. Sky, heavens, mind, and spark.”

“Spark,” Thomas questioned.

“Yeah?” Stiles wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed by the look of deep thought on the younger boy’s face.

“That’s...what you looked like. A spark.”

Stiles’ mouth parted and he pushed out a small gasp, mouthing the word ‘what’. Like two cogs in a machine clicking into place, it all connected and started to work in tandem. He briefly had the thought before and was on the right track. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called that. He closed his lips and gulped, the muscles in his neck moving with the action. “I have a terrible idea.”

Mitch sat back in the chair and rolled his eyes, “Do you have any that aren’t?”

Stiles held up a finger, “First, rude. Second, I think we should all touch again. I know we got knocked on our asses before but that’s ‘cause we didn’t know what we were doing.”

“And we do now?” Mitch raised his arms behind his head, leaning back. Stiles closed his eyes and huffed.

Thomas winced and scrunched up his nose at the idea. Mitch curled in his lips and shook his head, trying to figure out how he was caught up in all of this.

“Guys, come on. Just trust me, I think this is going to work. The book said that the three elements had to come together as one. What if we’re like Voltron or the power rangers?”

Mitch pressed his palm to his face and let his fingers slide down, a groan at his lips. “Whatever. I call black ranger.” He pushed himself up from his spot and walked towards his counterpart.

Stiles perked up and was slightly dazed by Mitch’s sudden acquiescence along with the pop culture reference. He’d been pretty sure this guy was raised in a lab, but apparently that had been Thomas. “Ahh! That’s the spirit.” He waved over to Thomas to join them. The youngest of the three rolled his eyes and started towards them.

They were all standing in a triangle again, facing each other. Stiles held his arms out tentatively and spoke softly, “Alright. Mitch. Thomas.” He nodded at the space between them and Mitch groaned. He wasn’t one for physical contact. Thomas rolled his eyes and grabbed the older man’s hand. Mitch let out a soft grunt in protest but didn’t fight it. Hovering his hands over the other boy’s, Stiles let out a breath. “Okay, I hope this works.”

“Wait! I thought you sai—” Before Thomas could finish, Stiles completed the circle and time stopped. They were all pulled into a blackness of nothing and everything.

Stiles blinked and found himself floating alone in the emptiness, but he felt a buzzing of electricity on his skin, in the air around him, and inside his chest. He ran a hand over the other and a spark ignited. “Oh my god! Cool, bro.” He looked his hands over and a white electricity danced over them. Following the current rolling up his arm and onto his chest, he took a step back. He almost tripped and suddenly the space he was in was now white. He heard someone shouting his name and looked up in response, seeking out the voice.

Realizing where he was, Stiles snapped back into the moment at the Wicked facility. He felt a hot light burning into his very being like he was exploding from the inside out. It had nowhere to go but outward, forcing the energy from his body like a beacon. It shot forward and knocked the men over in front of him, flinging them like rag dolls into the walls. Did he really do that? He turned and faced Scott and Thomas, looking past them to the barrier they faced. He pulled his arms back like he was preparing to throw a punch and pushed his hands forward, emanating a force that drained him dry. He watched as the wall all but vanished, being torn from its place and crumbling to the ground. 

Stiles felt like all that power he felt was gone, leaving him hollow and wanting for more. He felt dizzy and couldn’t hold himself up, then blackness.

Thomas let out a breath that echoed into the abyss he was standing in. Despite being unable to see its beginning or end, if there was one, he knew he was in the center of it. He looked up and saw it littered with silver twinkling lights. He saw one in motion and followed it, realizing all the illuminations were connected. He looked down and found brown earth beneath his feet. Roots were lain around him, weaving in and out of the ground and he followed them to a tree. It towered in front of him standing tall and wide, an immovable force of nature.

The young boy stepped forward, raising a hand out cautiously. He touched the bark and his head flew back, shooting his mind up the extent of the tree for what felt like miles until he reached the stars. He felt a fire in his stomach, burning and raging to escape.

Thomas pulled back and for the first time in his life, wasn’t scared. He felt strong and solid like he was the tree itself. He clenched his fists at sides and felt something shoot up his arms. He looked over and saw an emerald flame enveloping his limbs. Holding his hands in front of him, he examined them closely. “Holy shit,” he laughed and noticed the fire wasn’t hot, but deadly nonetheless.

There was pressure around his ankle and he looked down to see the roots of the tree wrapping around his leg. With a yelp, he was jerked down into the earth.

Mitch was shrouded in a never-ending whiteness, almost blinding. Despite being fully clothed, he had never felt more vulnerable and naked than this moment. He wrapped his arms around his belly and tried to hold back the tears that pushed through his ducts. A cold rush filled him to the brim, a raging sea inside of him that pushed at his boundaries, pressing to seep from his pores.

He let out a sad laugh, recognizing that in spite of his controlled and calculated exterior he was a chaotic current and mess of emotions and impulses. It didn’t scare or frighten him, it empowered him. He’d always held back buried everything he ever felt down and hid it away from the world, protecting it. Like an epiphany, he found the power in his emotions and their fierceness. He opened himself up to the idea, allowing himself to feel and found that he was drowning in an open ocean with no land in sight.

Sinking down into the blue water he choked and clawed at his throat, desperate for a source of oxygen. He stopped, concluding that there was no point but found he didn’t need the air. In his stillness, he found a calm he had long searched for, a stark contrast to everything he was feeling only seconds ago. Blinking, he saw a face in the water, reaching out to him. Unknowingly, he returned the action but found they were just out of his reach.

The image came into focus and it was Katrina, like an apparition with the tendrils of light dancing over her form. He wasn’t sad or angry, just was and she smiled at him. He tried to smile back but felt arms wrapping around him from behind. He looked to his chest, that instinct of fear rising in him and was rapidly pulled back, his arms and legs dragging in front of him.

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

Morfran stood over Allison’s limp body, fighting back his instinct to snarl when a surge of energy coursed through him and his eyes flashed vermillion. His nose twitched at the smell of copper in the air from where he cut into the girl’s neck. There was a tingling sensation over his flesh and he instantly knew what was happening. He was swallowed by the floor beneath him and dropped into a forest doused in tangerine flames.

Knowing it wasn’t real, he flicked his fingers to bring himself back to his body, but something countered it and he landed in a field of violet lilies. He let out a hideous roar and emitted a shadow over the beautiful pasture. He hated the flower.  A sliver of light broke through and a breathtaking blonde woman with hazel eyes set a path for him. Her gown flowed in the breeze and Morfran faltered. He reached out to meet her fingertips and she was ripped from him and spun into the forest again, nothing but ash now.

He fell to his hands and knees, covered in soot. He was a small boy again, crying and screaming at the moon. The image of his mother, his anchor, burning and tied to a stake in the center of the village. The screams and shouts of the villagers saying she was a witch and cursed them all. His tiny eyes filled with tears as he watched her, whispering his name, “Maccon,” as the flames lapped at her feet. She wore a smile through it all until the flames took her and enveloped her kaleidoscope eyes and ate away at her golden locks. He slammed his eyes shut and heard the resignation sound of gut-wrenching screams.

That night something in him broke, no one would ever say his name again. It belonged to his mother and no one else. He had no room left for anything but hate for the people who took his mother from him. Druids were known and typically respected, but they used her as a scapegoat for their misfortune. That was his trigger, her death that revealed he too was capable of her abilities. When the fiery power kicked in him, his wolf howled and smiled. The magic gave it strength and the wolf fed the magic. A cycle of unending energy.

The boy, no older than fifteen, screamed and a ring of fire irradiated from him, engulfing the village and the people who resided in it. They would burn with his mother. His soul hung in the balance, teetering between the choice of light or dark. Every druid faced this when they came into their powers. The possibility to be the sun or the void.

With the taste of the newfound strength on his lips Morfran hungered for more, his wolf's belly rumbling and aching for the rush that came with it. The thought of being feared rather than the one who was frightened. He was tired of being nothing, he yearned to be more; more everything. His heart chose the darkness and went down the path of those who came before him known as darach. They meddled in magic that upset the balance of the world, going against their own nature.

Morfran let out a growl laced with a scream and awoke on the floor, leaning back on his hands. He was back with his body, his mind no longer wandering the supernatural realm. There was only one reason this happened to him and it was that the bond was forged between the other three he saw earlier that night. After sifting through Allison’s mind, he knew their names as well. 

He looked to the girl across from him and decided to let her live, for what it’s worth, not that she would have much of a life. He stood up and walked over to her, whispering in her ear, “Cadal, nighean òg.” 

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A/N: The last sentence Morfran says is “Sleep, young girl” in Scottish Gaelic. again, please let me know what you thought, theories, things you’d like to see, etc. thank you for reading. it means the world to me.  ♡ ♡ ♡

Taglist:  @daisyxbuckley @bitch-banshee @wolfmadefromash @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @theholydestiny @2eyesmadeoutofcoal @jasper53fox @stiles-o-dylan24 @shelinski-91 @samslave @peachybrook @juliebean247 @fastfadingfiction @pyro-vixen @katemusic @tete-futue @juliebean247 @allybugg888 @theoneswithoutpacks @raimykeller @ratman83 @mayxsx @ozgirl6 @prettyeyes1202 @xceafh @indecisive-fandom-writer @lawfulgeek @fandom-fairy-tale @catcrown21 @celestialblissx @saltistoosalty @dreamingofdyl @redsalv20 @treestarrrrrrrr @nashapixie @lettersofwrittencollective @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @nitnat6245​

[el-gilliath]

A Not So Easy Choice

Welcome to the kidnapping fic I’ve been teasing. Thank you to @winged-fool and @bestillmyslashyheart for holding my hand, reading and looking this over, as well as telling me no, you are not allowed to kill any more people.

Part 2 Ao3

WARNING: Implied minor character death (Mimi)

He feels everything in him go cold when he gets the texts. Opening them and seeing pictures of Mimi and Alex, bound with the words If you could only save one, who would you choose? Decide quickly, you only have two hours.

He knows instinctively who’s behind it, there’s only one person who would willingly use a woman like Mimi and his own son to try and get to him. He also knows without a shadow of a doubt that Jesse is one hundred percent sure Michael is going to come to the rescue.

A petty part of him doesn’t want to prove him right. But there’s no way he can leave them in Jesse’s clutches. But if he can only save one of them… How does he choose between his girlfriend's mother and the man he’s loved since he was 17. It’s an impossible choice, which means he needs help. He needs Isobel.

He throws himself into his truck and drives to Izzy’s house. She still lives in the house she owned with Noah, since ‘it’s a perfectly good house’. He doesn’t understand how she can handle it, but then again he never understood Isobel’s overbearing stubbornness. But it has saved her thus far, so he will continue to not say anything. But the day she’s ready to move he’ll be there.

But until then he has other things to think about. Like the fact that Jesse is a torturous madman. The drive from Sander’s to Isobel’s normally takes him 20 minutes. He manages it in 10.

He launches himself out of the car as soon as he’s stopped, making sure the doors are closed with his telekinesis as he runs into the house.

“Isobel! Isobel!”

“Why are you shouting, Michael?” She’s her usual haughty self as she comes into the hall from the living room, looking perfectly put together the way she always does.

“Jesse Manes has Mimi and-”

“Slow down, Michael. What do you mean Jesse Manes has Mimi?”

“I got a text. It has a picture of Mimi tied to a chair but it’s not… It’s not just Mimi.”

Isobel gives him a look he recognizes instantly. She’s given him the look many times over the year he’s been dating Maria. It’s a look she started giving him after the first time she watched him interact with Alex. After the first time she felt what he himself feels every time Alex is around. She doesn’t need to hear his name to know who else Jesse has, she can probably feel it through their bond.

“He told me I can only save one of them. And I only have two hours to decide.”

“How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“It’s Jesse Manes,” he replies. “There’s no reason to doubt it. And as I said. Pictures.”

“Show me.”

He does, handing his phone over. He watches as Isobel looks at the text, scrolling through the pictures. He feels the deep sigh she releases as she hands back his phone in his gut.

“You need to tell Maria.”

“How the fuck do I tell her, Iz?”

“You just do.”

He doesn’t want to, but he knows Izzy is right. He also knows Maria is at the Pony, doing paperwork. He doesn’t want to tell her, but he knows that he has to.

“Okay. I guess we’re going now.”

-----

He gets another text on route. Who’s it gonna be, alien? The mother or the ex? 60 minutes left with another picture of the two tied to chairs.

He grits his teeth, inhaling and exhaling sharply as he tries to calm down. He’s mad, worried, shaking. Why is it always him?

Isobel takes the phone from his hand, replacing it with her own hand and holding him tightly. She knows exactly what he needs, his sister, she always does. And with Max still being dead… It’s just the two of them. Even if they are coming closer to the answer to that riddle.

“It’ll be fine, Michael, she’ll understand.”

“Understand what, Iz?” he asks.

“That you have to save Alex.”

He very much doubts that Maria will understand that, her mother is her whole world. And Alex. Alex is more competent than Mimi is, especially now with her confused state of mind. He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do if Maria wants him to save her mother instead of Alex. He doesn’t want to think about it.

But it doesn’t matter, he thinks to himself as he parks in front of the Pony and gets out of the truck. He’ll decide soon.

He strides inside the Pony, opening the door telekinetically as he nears it. He knows Maria doesn’t mind now that she knows about his powers.

“Maria?” he asks loudly just in case, he doesn’t want to scare her atop the shitty news he comes bearing.

“Inventory!” She yells back. He still hesitates in walking forward, hesitates enough that Isobel takes his hand and gives him another reassuring squeeze, their connection radiating with calmness. He squeezes back quickly in thanks before he gathers his everything and walks forward.

Maria is exactly where she said, behind the bar doing inventory. She grins widely, putting down her clipboard and getting out from the bar to greet him. She stops when she sees Isobel, their relations might be better but they’re not even close to friends yet, before visibly steeling herself and continuing to give him a kiss. He turns away slightly, so her kiss lands on his cheek and not on his mouth. He just can’t, right now.

“Hey,” Maria asks, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to tell her. He doesn’t want to see her face. He doesn’t want to-

“Jesse Manes has your mom.” He blurts it out, no softening, no censoring. Just blurts it out.

“What do you mean Jesse has Mom?” her voice is hard now, the furrowing of her brow deepening.

“I mean he has her hostage. And he’s giving me 45 minutes to decide-”

“Decide? Decide what, to save her? To go get her?”

He looks over at Isobel, just a glance to ask for help but Maria moves her head so he can’t really focus on her. He still sees Isobel mouth ‘Tell her’.

“Michael, wh- why are you even here if Jesse has Mom!” Maria’s voice is rising, panic setting in as she picks up on the fact that he’s completely serious. “If this is true you have to go!”

“It’s true, I have proof,” he says, and tries to show her the pictures. But Maria shuts her eyes, turns away and hides her face. He gives Isobel a helpless look, but Isobel just sucks her teeth before mouthing ‘Tell her’ again. Her face is a harder mask now, her annoyance not showing but still felt by Michael.

“I don’t want to see, I can’t see her like that! She’s already so vulnerable, I just can’t!”

“Okay, I won’t show you but Maria, I have to tell you-”

“No!” Her voice is pitching into screams now. “Just go and get my mom! She doesn’t deserve this!”

He wishes he could close his eyes and not be in this situation, not be in this predicament, not be in this place.

He doesn’t know how to choose, doesn’t know if he can. How do people make choices, like these, and live with them.

“Michael, you have to go save my mom!” Maria screams at him. “Please!”

But it’s not that simple. She doesn’t know that Jesse has another hostage. He doesn’t want to know what she would ask of him if she knew that Alex is also in his father's hand. Considering she knows one hell of a lot of what happened in the Manes household when he grew up.

He knows he should save Mimi, save his girlfriend’s mother. After all, Alex is an Air Force Captain, he’s gotten himself out of worse jams than this and Michael knows he’s probably capable of whatever he needs to do to get himself out.

But the thought of leaving him. Of letting him feel alone and abandoned. It reminds him too much of how he felt when Alex had to leave. So how can he leave him when he had the chance not to.

“What are you waiting for, Michael?! My mom needs you!”

Maria is getting decidedly more frustrated, the anger and fear in her voice clear as she yells. She doesn’t understand, he gets that. He might not have a mom anymore but he gets it.

“It’s not that-“

“If you try to tell me it’s not that simple I’m gonna hit you. My mom is in the hands of Jesse fucking Manes, the reason she’s like this, and you’re hesitating when you can go save her!” she seethes. “I know how he treated Alex growing up, I can’t let her stay in his clutches! It’s my mom, Michael!”

He shares another look with Isobel as Maria mentions Alex. Their relationship is not the best since he started dating Maria, though thankfully he and Maria managed to spare their friendship even if his spiral tried to fuck with that too. But Alex will always come if anyone needs him. And he knows, intimately, just how good Alex is at getting himself out of tricky situations. But leaving him with Jesse when he has no idea if Jesse would keep him alive or not, it shakes him to his very core, like acid burning through the inside of his stomach, like holding your hand over a fire as it slowly burns.

“Maria… I-”

“I’ve done a lot of shit, Guerin. Hurt people that I shouldn’t have, for you. I’m begging you, go get my mom. She doesn’t deserve any of this!”

He looks at Maria who’s watching him with tears rolling silently down her cheek. He doesn’t say anything, just swallows hard as he bites his tongue.

“You owe me.”

And he does. For the shit he put her through, for being stupid enough to try to ruin her friendship with Alex when he pursued her without even thinking about that, for all the times he hasn’t paid at the Pony, for all the times he’s taken it out on her and been in a mood when he’s fought with Alex. He loves her, he adores her. He can do this for her. Alex can get himself out, and he has to believe Jesse wouldn’t hurt him. He can do this to make up for the fact that he will always love Alex more.

“Okay. Okay,” he says, a grimace in the shape of a smile on his face as she throws herself in his arms, sobbing and whispering ‘Thank you’ over and over again. Isobel walks into his line of sight behind her, her patented ‘You’re an idiot’ mask firmly on. He knows he should’ve told Maria that it’s not just her mother that’s at stake, but he can’t. He has to keep her happy if he wants to keep her. She deserves to be happy with what she gave up for him.

He extracts herself from her grip a few minutes later, giving her a smile he hopes looks slightly more genuine, but probably doesn’t with the way she frowns.

“I have to go if I’m gonna do this. I need to get the location.” He kisses her on the forehead, cradling her face sweetly in his hands. “Stay with Isobel, you’ll be safe with her. I’ll be back as soon as I have her.”

He nods at Isobel, waiting for her nod back before he lets go of Maria and walks out of there. He ignores the thought of her frown as he texts the unknown number back, writing simply ‘Mimi Deluca’. He ignores it still when he gets a set of directions in reply. Maybe if he can ignore Maria’s frown, he can ignore how much it’ll hurt knowing that he’s leaving Alex to fend for himself. Even though he doesn’t deserve it, even though Alex always comes through for everyone else. He’ll do what Maria asked him to do and get her mom. It’s the right thing to do.

He wishes he could believe it himself.

-----

Maria watches Michael leave with a sour taste rising in her mouth. She was, she is, distressed, but now that he’s gone she knows there’s something he didn’t tell her. Her psychic sense is tingling, has been tingling since he came in but she ignored it when he started talking about her mom. But now she can’t anymore. Not with that grimace Michael had on his face as he left.

“Why did Michael have that look on his face?” she asks as she turns around to face Isobel. Isobel, who always looks impeccable in both manner and clothes, but right now looks a little nauseous as she looks down on the floor.

“What do you mean?”

It pisses her off that Isobel doesn’t even consider that she can see straight through her bullshit. That’s the thing with Isobel Evans, they might not be each other's biggest fan, but they’re far too similar not to know when the other is trying to lie or deflect.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Maria-“

“Isobel. What. Aren’t. You. Telling. Me,” she says. The edge in her tone is hard, and she narrows her eyes as Isobel sighs irritably. But she knows she’s won when Isobel opens her mouth.

“Jesse Manes might have your mother behind one door,” Isobel replies. “But he has Alex behind the other. And by begging Michael to save your mom, you might just have killed Alex.”

The room is silent for a minute, long enough for Isobel to get worried.

She’s deeply relieved that Michael’s already left when Maria lets out an anguished scream shortly after, screaming in anger and grief.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” she yells in between the tears.

“You didn’t give him a chance,” Isobel answers. And she didn’t, with her demands as soon as she heard Michael mention her mother. She still regrets being quite so straightforward when Maria bursts into tears. The only thing she can do is hug her close and let her cling to her as she cries. She just hopes Michael hasn’t lost the love of his life because he thinks he has to do everything Maria asks him to, just because he feels guilty that she almost threw away a friendship for her brother and because he still can’t stop loving Alex, regardless of his feelings for Maria. But Isobel also knows it’s not that easy.

She still really hopes Michael returns with Alex and not Mimi, cruel though it may be. She doesn’t think Michael will survive if he doesn’t.

-----

His heart beats fast as he nears the directions from the text. He can feel it racing in his chest, his breath quickening as he sees the old, decrepit house on the side of the road. He hates that his mind is telling him not to stop, to drive on. To send a text and ask for Alex’s location instead. He hates that he’s unable to let it go, even if he promised Maria.

He wants to go get Alex. He wants, he wants, he wants. But he won’t. Alex can get himself out, he has to. Jesse won’t hurt his son. He really hopes he won’t.

He forces himself to stop in front of the house, getting out of his truck slowly while he listens to his surroundings, listens in a way that Alex taught him to try and make sure nothing bad is hiding around him. He reaches out with his powers too, tries to feel if there’s anything around. But there’s not; as far as he can tell he’s alone. He still approaches the house slowly, carefully, but nothing stops him. Nothing jumps out, nothing seems weird. It’s just an old house on the side of the road, close to falling apart and decrepit as all hells.

It’s creepy. It’s also perfect for Jesse Manes and his own brand of torture.

He opens the, admittedly shabby, front door and looks inside. There’s nothing there. Nothing besides a door to a room that seems to have been switched out lately. The pounding of his heart intensifies, though it’s more of a hard beat than a race now. A hard beat of regret. He pushes onward still, walking over to the door and taking deep breaths. One. Two. Three. The handle is in his hand, and he wrenches it open before he can second guess himself, his telekinesis at the ready. He moves into the room and stops. He can’t help but feel a deep relief course through him.

“Alex.”

The sight of Alex sitting tied up in the chair in front of him makes him want to weep tears of joy. It makes him want to jump in joy and take his face between his hands and kiss him, deeply, truly, as he runs his fingers through Alex’s hair. It makes him want to love him forever.

It makes him the happiest he has ever been before. Before he remembers Mimi. The person he was meant to save. The person he promised to save. Who is now most likely dead. A part of him cries out in fear of what will happen with Maria, now. Now that he’s failed her too.

But Alex is here. Alex is alive. He can’t help but be grateful. It’s who he wanted to save all along.

Alex looks at him with an unreadable look on his face, before he looks down and a soft, sob like sound leaves him. Michael rushes over, talking nonsense as he unties him from the chair.

“Hey, Alex, hey, I’m gonna get you out of here, I swear,” he babbles, helping Alex stand, letting him lean on him as he groans when he puts weight on the prosthetic. Alex doesn’t really say anything, just lets Michael lead him to the car, lets him help him into the car and close the door. He doesn’t say anything as Michael gets into the truck himself and drives away from the old house. Doesn’t say anything as Michael asks him if he’s hurt, or okay, or in pain, just shakes his head or nods where he needs to. It makes Michael feel unsure, makes the grief of Mimi linger in his head because in many ways Alex doesn’t seem happy to see him, just blank. He doesn’t want to know what happened to him before he got there.

“Alex, I-”

“Where are you going?” Alex finally asks.

“I need to go to the Pony. I need to tell-”

“You need to tell Maria about Mimi. Yeah, Guerin, I know it was either me or Mimi. My dad likes to torture me, you should know that by now.” Alex shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Let’s just… Let’s just go.”

Michael can’t really do much more than nod, especially as Alex turns away to stare out of the window of the truck. He wants to console him, wants to hold his hand and make him feel better. He doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to, given that he didn’t actually pick him.

-----

They get to the Pony half an hour later. Half an hour in awkward silence that Michael can’t seem to break, a silence that Alex won’t break. He’s tried, asking him if he needs food or water or if he would prefer Michael to drive him home. Alex has just shaken his head every time. No answer, no noise, just a shake of his head. Michael is worried, so very worried. But he doesn’t want to pry.

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” he tries to offer. The derisive snort Alex releases tells him all he needs to know about that suggestion, so he just nods and gets out. Alex is just getting out of the car when the front door bangs open. Maria runs out, tears and hope on her face. She freezes as she sees Michael, as she sees Alex. Michael can see the way her teeth clench, how her hands tighten into fists, how she starts to slightly shake from trying to hold herself together. So Isobel told her then.

“Of course you picked him,” she bites out. “Of course Alex was more important than my mother.”

He looks at her, doesn’t know how to tell her that Jesse gave him the wrong coordinates. If he tells her Alex will hear, Alex knowing he didn’t pick him would be worse than Maria thinking he decided to leave her mother. He won’t think about why that is yet.

“And my mother is left in the hands of Jesse fucking Manes. How the fuck could you leave her with him, Guerin!”

She rages. He lets her. Lets her curse him to kingdom come, lets her yell all her hatred at Jesse and sorrow over her mom at him. He let her down, he knows what. He still can’t help but feel happy that Alex is alive.

“I should’ve known.” Her eyes fill with tears, her clenched hands releasing, her jaw softening. “I knew the second Isobel told me that you would show up with Alex. And I guess I can’t blame you, I know you still love him, after all.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but stops when Alex walks closer to Maria, taking her hands between his. She’s crying openly, big fat tears running in rivulets down her face. But the happy smile she gives him through her tears, her relief to see him makes Michael feel marginally better. Especially when she lifts his hands to her face and lays small kisses on them.

But Alex doesn’t look relieved, nor happy. He just looks full of sorrow and pain. Michael doesn’t understand, especially when a tear slowly rolls down Alex’s cheek as well. He doesn’t know what’s going to come out of Alex’s mouth as he opens his mouth to speak.

"He chose her," Alex answers for him. "He just didn't know Dad switched who was behind which door.”

All the air in Michael’s body stops circulating at that point. His heart beats faster in response, his hands start sweating, his nerves tick behind his eyes. No, no, no no nononononononono.

Alex scoffs. He extracts his hands from Maria’s, whose eyes are wide, shocked and distraught. Just like Michael feels to his very core. “I’m sorry about your mom, Maria. But I’m not sorry I’m alive.”

Michael can only watch in horrified shock as Alex turns and walks away. All thoughts of Maria are gone.

“The worst part is, I would’ve picked you,” Alex says as he stops a few feet off and looks back at Michael. “I always pick you.”

Michael doesn’t think he could feel worse if he tried.

[packsbeforesnacks]

Talk Too Much || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Saturday, May 30th, 2020, Late Night LOCATION: Dell’s Tavern PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn comes clean. Blanche wants to drink. WARNINGS: Extremely brief mention of assisted-suicide-by-hunter.

Blanche was still irritated with the whole Winn situation, but if she were being truly honest with herself, she just didn’t have enough energy to be truly angry. No one had died, and at the end of the day, none of it mattered. It was a string of unfortunate events that were, for the most part, corrected by Winn coming back. If anything, the bigger headache was going to be with Ariana and Noah and any of his other possible-wolf friends that he left behind and not with her. She pulled into Dell’s parking lot, parked her Jeep and asked for a booth to settle in. Winn wanted to talk, and she didn’t know how responsive she’d be, but she would at least try to not lose her shit like she had with Theo before… She had just been browsing the cocktail menu she saw Winn. Leaning out of the booth, she waved. “Hey! Winn. Over here.” She gave him a strained smile. “I hope you know I’m getting the biggest burger there is.”

Winn could be honest: He was frustrated with the chain of events that had unfolded in his absence. Noah had clued him in, and the pack’s general sentiments had solidified that Noah hadn’t been in the minority. But, really, aside from Noah’s special case, Winn could handle the pack’s anger. It had been a stupid miscommunication, but it was his stupid miscommunication. He could fix it. What he couldn’t fix, what ate at him, was Blanche’s trust in him. Winn slid into the booth, across from Blanche, and smiled tentatively. “B, you could buy out Dell’s and I’d pay for every cocktail, every inch of grease to make you a burger of your dreams.” Winn sighed, rolling his neck. He needed to be drunk for this; he couldn’t possibly be drunk for this. “I slept through half the day, the entire pack doesn’t trust me, my father I guess lives with me now? But, Blanche, I’ll be honest. I don’t give a shit about any of that because I am so scared you hate me now. I know it’s selfish. But I—” Winn glanced down at his hands, hesitant to meet Blanche’s eyes. “If you don’t want to… be around me. I understand. That’s one answer I don’t have for you tonight. I don’t… I don’t know what happened, after you threw me. But,” Winn looked up, “I am going to find out. It will never happen again.”

Blanche opened her mouth to start talking, but Winn started in on the serious things before she could even start with some mild small talk. She faltered, unsure what to say for a moment as she rubbed the back of her neck with a low sigh. She supposed she was supposed to feel bad, but all things considered, her emotions were a little fried. “Winn, I wouldn’t have met you here if I didn’t want to be around you,” she said pointedly. “I like free food, but not that much. Come on.” Tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear, she considered her next words carefully. “I heard the words ‘loss of control’ being thrown around a lot,” she said finally, with a shrug. She remembered, vaguely, Winn’s wolfish form coming at her with some sort of bloodthirsty look on his face. That was the only reason Blanche was able to differentiate the first attack from the second, though she was still a little peeved he hadn’t told her he couldn’t understand human words. Noah was right, they were both morons. “And no, it won’t happen again, because we’re not doing that again. You want to spar with me? I get to punch you in your big, dumb human face and hopefully no one will scare me so bad that my brain thinks I have to chuck you across a clearing and into a tree. Which— Sorry. Again. Truly. I didn’t mean to.” And even if they did that, it would preferably be around the New Moon. She frowned slightly, and ran a hand down her face. “I’m sorry that the pack is angry with you, too.”

Winn couldn’t help a small smile from forming on his face. Not quite dopey, but not subtle either. They could work through this. “Naw, B. I can take being thrown into a tree. Uh, or… Physically, anyway?” He laughed, weakly, as the server came over to take their orders. And, Jesus, was everyone in this town brutally attractive? The guy could be a Pine’s brother. Winn leaned on his hand, scratching at his chin. “Well, not… all of the pack? Just mostly. And I prolly deserve it. I should’ve left the note somewhere smarter. I should’ve replaced my phone before leaving town. I should’ve checked my account or my email to make sure weird shit wasn’t happenin’. It was… I don’t want to make excuses. But a lot of shit went down, and me freakin’ out and comin’ at you was not the weirdest — or worst — part of my week. And given that it was extremely bad… Anyway, I’ll get to that, but: You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, far as I’m concerned.” Winn scratched at the wood of the table, nervous. “But, uh— Sorry. I don’t mean to be a bummer, just didn’t want… I know shit’s not great, with you, so maybe this is a dumb question, but: How’re you checkin’ in?” He’d explained the concept to her before, a while back, but this was the first time it felt… right to use it, instead of just chattin’. This felt more… not formal, per se, but different. A boundary that he needed to respect.

“I’m trying to not make it a habit. Throwing people, I mean,” Blanche said, running a hand through her hair. The server came and went and she let out a low sigh as she settled back into the booth as she listened to Winn. They could go over should haves and could haves for hours, though she didn’t particularly want too. It was a waste of time, especially when they could easily move on from mistakes and do better. Especially when no one had died. Even the feud between herself and Adrien seemed so small in the wake of Bea’s death. Adrien and Blanche could hurl cruel words at each other all day, every day, but at least they were both still alive. At least they were there so they could do that. The thought made her want to call him, but she knew he still needed space from the explosion that happened with Regan. She looked at Winn and just gave him a shrug. “Things are shitty,” she said. Checking in was harder and harder — she just wanted to forget and be numb to it. She had told Adam that it was easier that way. “Possession sucked. I’ve been staying with Nell because I can’t stand feeling a ghost near me for too long. It’s been a thing.” She gave another shrug, not willing to go into it. “Are you going to tell me where you went that made your week so weird and shitty? And, uh, for the record, I’d also like to address the killswitch thing as well, if you don’t mind.”

Oh, right. Honesty. That pesky thing that Winn had committed to, with Blanche and Noah especially. “This is going to be… a long story,” Winn warned, hand around his water for when he inevitably needed to pause. “So, uh. You don’t know… a fuckton about my past. That’s… by design, or was.” He stopped himself. Okay, he could be less confusing. “I was born Winthrop Linton Zhou, don’t say a fuckin’ word, and grew up in Falls Church. My dad, Daniel Zhou, taught at Georgetown for years, and my mom is, uh, Congresswoman-then-Speaker-of-the-House? Elaine Delacour. We like Dad. We have… extremely mixed feelings on Mom, to say the least. I, um, went to college, went through some shit, got the Bite, and then a couple years later… killed a Hunter, in self-defense.” He sighed, remembering that both his dad and his former partner didn’t blame him, and they thought he’d been in the right — that Winn didn’t need to carry that guilt quite so heavily. “Shit got… weird, from there. I was in a pretty dark place. And, uh, I… actually don’t remember a lot. I’m pretty sure that I was a wolf for, like… a lot of the time for the next year. But then there’s a whole other year, and… Anyway, more on that later. I ended up in Europe in early 2018, took on Winn Woods as an assumed name, falsified some documents, and eventually applied to school here. Couldn’t tell you why, to be honest. I’m— uh, well, okay, so that answered exactly none of your questions, but I’m gonna pause here, ‘cause I can see you steamin’ like a tea kettle.”

Blanche sat there in silence for a long time, staring at Winn with a mixture of… Well, actually, she didn’t know. Disbelief? Not quite right. And she wasn’t sure she was angry either. Blanche didn’t come in swinging with her “#TRAGIQUE” backstory either because as much as they all liked to make fun of their personal shit it was still personal and there were things that hurt. Things that couldn’t be glossed over in a joke. If Winn didn’t want to discuss his background that was his prerogative. She sat there digesting the information. At some point, the waiter came and went with their drinks. Blanche had a water and a lemonade because she always wanted both and it was easier for a second to watch the little lemon slice floating at the top of her drink than think about the information that was just dumped onto her. Blanche took a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. …. And then a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. And then she rounded off with a - guess what - big drink of water. And then, she folded her hands in front of her, and looked at him. “... Asdmgph.” Oh, good going, Blanche. Real intelligent answer. Sure using that college experience to help you out there. So, she tried again. “.... Winthrop?” Oh, that was an easy one to start with. “You have a problem with me calling you Winnifred when your name is Winthrop?”

Admittedly, Winn thought this conversation was going to go worse than it had. He expected anger, or yelling. But no. Blanche just stared at him, well, blankly. And drank a truly gargantuan amount of liquid, taking in water, and lemonade, like a fish in Georgia. And then short-circuiting, like a fish in Georgia when you dropped a toaster in the water. Okay, jokes. Winn could do jokes. Blanche and his entire relationship was built on a cornerstone of gentle ribbing, because both of them were ridiculous. That said, “I said don’t say a fuckin’ word about the Winthrop thing. I haven’t gone by that since I was, like, five.” Winn remembered cryin’ on the first day of kindergarten to his dad, beggin’ him to not make him go by Winthrop ‘cause all the other kids had such cool names, and they thought he was gonna be mean ‘cause his name sounded like an oil baron. (Granted, it was his grandfather’s, so… not far off.) “And I didn’t say I had a problem with you callin’ me Winnifred, I just thought it was lazy, Blanche.” He pointedly didn’t make a joke of Blanche’s name, needing her to realize this conversation was still, like, fairly serious. “Uh, also my dad’s a fox?” he tried, eager to move on from his name or what had led him to White Crest. “Like, um, not a literal. Like, a supernatural fox? Huxian-called-by-the-Japanese-kitsune kinda fox? He has tails. It’s kinda rad.” Winn, no.

“Okay, Winthrop,” Blanche answered immediately, grimacing slightly. Apparently, she had two settings at this moment, and one was watering herself like a plant and the other was, well, being a dick. “Sorry.” Blanche frowned slightly  at the mention of his dad being a … fox. Furry genes. She had to swallow the word whole, before her eyes widened as she looked up at Winn in horror. “I’m turning into Adam,” she groaned quietly, running her hands down her face as she leaned over the table. God. Okay. Reroute, Blanche. Be serious a moment. She took a few deep breaths, and then looked back at him. “Huxian?” Blanche repeated. “Fox. Right. Okay. Cool cool cool cool cool cool. Cool. That’s cool. Like a werefox? … Don’t answer that.” Blanche shook her head. “Keep going. I’m assuming there’s more?”

“Um,” Winn started, and then stopped. “I— Yes. There is. So, I should… backtrack a little. My week itself was, like, fine. It was… getting back, that made it weird and shitty. Noah was mad. I think we’re okay, but he was mad. Everyone thought I abandoned them, ran away, or, shit, was dead. I’m… I don’t have a right to be mad about it, but I am, a little bit, and it’s not your fault, ‘cause I didn’t know and I should have been clearer and I— I’m doing it again.” He took a deep breath. “Adam is my killswitch. Which means, like, if I ever… hurt someone, during the Full Moon, then I trust him to make it painless when he takes me out. I don’t— The pack would try to protect me, but that’s not who I am, not who I want to be. I became a werewolf by choice, but I won’t become a killer. Accidents happen, I get that, and I don’t— I’d protect any of them who did something, but, for me, I just… If Adam didn’t do it, the guilt would kill me. I— Um, I know I said I’d answer questions about that, but, I’ll be honest, I really don’t want to talk about it. It won’t happen. If it does, you can’t stop me.” His voice had gone hard, taken on an uncharacteristically cold tone, almost emotionless. “Blanche, I really need you to bear with me here.” It was his first time saying it aloud, first time admitting to, well… admitting to the truth. What was probably the truth. “I don’t have all of my memories.”

[hermeticimp]

Witchy Then Vs. Now #WakingWitchblr

Hey guys! So, I’ve seen a bunch of posts on witchy things we’ve done as children. I really love the idea and have been meaning to do a post on it for the longest, but I wanted to add a bit of a twist. Instead of just making a list, I want to compare and contrast my childhood witchy things to my practice now. This is definitely something I want to see other people’s takes on as well, so feel free to tag this under the #WakingWitchblr or #WitchyThenVsNow. Without further ado, I’m going to do mine! 

Elemental Work

Then: I was super into shows like Shaolin Showdown and Pokemon, which had plenty of abilities that were linked to particular elements. Back then, I found myself very attracted to fire, wishing that I could have the ability to manipulate it. Kimiko was my favorite because of that (besides the fact that she was the only female member of the group). I was also into water pokemon like Squirtle and Staryu. I found it funny when I found out I was a Fire Rat under the Chinese zodiac. Despite knowing that Libra was an air sign, I identified more with the passion and intensity of fire. 

Now: I work with all the elements! XD Nah, but seriously, now I see the strengths and weaknesses of each element, then use whichever one or ones work best for the situation. I do a lot of work with fire through candle and sun magic. I work with water via cleansing, water magic, and lunar magic. I use earth when grounding, relaxing, and using crystals and my wooden wand. I use air when I work with the wind, humidifiers/diffusers, and incense. I still love fire, but not so much for the cool factor. I find myself much more aligned to air now, actually. Of course, I now know I’m an air sun, fire moon, and water rising, so that’s entertaining. 

Astrology

Then: Speaking of signs, when I first picked up an astrology book in the 3rd grade, I was only aware of sun signs, as most people do when first stepping into the subject. I was fascinated by the different signs and figuring out who was which based on birthday. I would read off sections from books or apps I had and found it hilarious when people freaked out about how accurate things were. In middle school, I started learning about moon and risings signs. It was an interesting experience, but I still focused more on sun signs. 

Now: Goodness gracious, I’ve come so far. XD Not to say I’m an expert at all - far from it - but I now understand more about astrology as a whole. I can read a birthchart, I have an astrology mentor, I understand that there are placements for each of the 10 planets. Astrology has become a major aspect of of my craft. I (try to) follow the moon cycles and other transits. I utilize astrology in my divination readings. I’m fascinated by seeing the different ways people express each of their placements and their charts as a whole. I’m a student of astrology (primarily modern and evolutionary) who is always eager to learn more. Soon, I’ll share some of my notes, but not quite yet. 

Astronomy

Then: I was super into reading books on space as a child. I often found myself nose deep, learning about galaxies, stars, black holes, meteors, comets, and so on. It wasn’t odd to find me staring up at the stars and Moon whenever I had the chance. I was fascinated by astronomical events, like meteor showers or lunar eclipses. I adored planetariums. I wanted the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on my ceiling like my cousins had. I wanted a constellation projector. I was ecstatic to work on a project regaring Haley’s Comet. Space excited and thrilled me in a way nothing else did. 

Now: It’s a shame, but I don’t really focus on space much outside of celestial magic and astrology. Don’t get me wrong, I still find space exciting and I will always have eyes for the Moon and the stars, but I’m not keeping up with the science like I used to. There’s still a sense of affection when I happen to read articles on new discoveries or technology or when I see pictures of the solar system and galaxies. However, my focus is mainly on the movements of the heavenly bodies and how that impacts us. I work with the energy of different planets through associations and timing spells for planetary hours, but that’s about it. 

Crystals

Then: Oooh, boy. So I was a major nerd as a kid (if you haven’t caught onto that by now. Honestly still AM. XD), so I adored going on science trips. At museums, it was common to find all kinds of rough crystals for cheap. I thought they were cool. I loved the colors and the feel of them against my fingers. I was drawn to rough rose quartz, amethyst, granite, and quartz back then. With tumbled stones, it was amethyst, ruby, sapphire, topaz, and tiger’s eye. I collected them as a child and was always excited to add to it. This interest kind of faded out as I went on less and less school trips to science museums. 

Now: You will pry crystals out of my cold, dead hands. XD Seriously though, I have a whole bunch of crystals. I keep them on my altars, in a metal box by my bed, and all over my room, honestly. I favor tumbled stones more than rough ones, but there’s still an affection for rough rose quartz and quartz. I adore tiger’s eye, amethyst, carnelian, moss agate, and amazonite.Crystals are a major part of my work. I use them in just about all of my spells, from the ritualistic ones to minor aches and pains-based ones. I occasionally meditate with them. I will most likely be found wearing some kind of crystal jewelry. My spells may be infrequent, but they’re a regular ingredient (which I’ll get into in another post). 

Animism

Then: As a child, I believed everything had some kind of spirit, from the stars, to the Moon, to the wind, to my stuffed animals. I remember talking in my head to the moon anytime I could. I imagined hearing her speak back to me (and a lunar deity very well could have been, who knows?). I remember when I would play games reminescent of Noah’s ark, wanting to bring everything I loved with me in the event of a disaster. I’d place all my toys under my blankets and feel at ease, knowing that everything was safe and had its place. I very well could have been influenced by media like Toy Story or Cars. Either way, I vividly remember all of that. 

Now: I now know that this is the concept of animism. It’s an ideology that I still believe in whole-heartedly. I still talk to my stuffed animals (room’s full of them), I’ve dedicated some to my deities, I’ve spoken to the spirits of plants and trees, I greet the Sun and talk to the Moon as I used to, I have a spirit in my pendulum. It’s a part of my practice and philosophy. I’m not as all over the place with it as I was a child, but it still matters deeply to me. 

Mythology

Then: I was first introduced to mythology by a friend in 5th grade, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog. Or rather, I was introduced to Greek mythology at that time. I had grown up reading Native American and African stories, such as those of Anansi. I found Greek mythology to be fascinating. Haven grown up in a Christian family (though my parents were rather lax about it and encouraged us to explore our personal beliefs), I’d read the Bible plenty of times. I didn’t really believe in those stories, particularly because God was either portrayed as an omniscient and violent being or omniscient, omnipotent being of perfection and love. Neither sat right with me. It also didn’t make sense to me for there to only be one god. So when I read myths as a child and learned what polytheism was, I jumped on that ship in a heartbeat. I didn’t worship anyone, but I loved the idea that there were gods of different things. With Greek mythology, I especially loved it because the gods were portrayed as having flaws, of being human in a sense. They were powerful, but not all-powerful. It was mindblowing to me at the time. I fell in love with the stories of heroes and tricksters, I expanded into Egyptian, Norse, and Japanese mythology. I took these stories as stories but also as accurate depictions of gods. 

Now: Mythology... doesn’t really play a part in my practice. Contray to some polytheists, I don’t take the myths seriously. To me, all they are are human made stories about higher entities. I used to get so angry when I imagined the horrific things that deities did. I balked when I saw people question why worship or work with these deities that were notorious for doing horrific things to each other and humans? I made jokes about Zeus and his supposed indescretions, which I largely regret now. The turning point, I believe, was hearing @underworldariel​ discuss how you didn’t need to follow the myths or worship if that didn’t feel right. And for me, it didn’t. Suddenly, it made sense. When I started considering the cultural aspect of mythology and began working directly with deities rather than attempting to worship them, things were easier. They slotted into my practice effortlessly. I do take some inspiration from myths, namely associations, relationships, and domains, but not much else. To me, they’re just stories - which is what myths means. There’s a part of me that cringes away from the people who use mythology in a literal manner to call Zeus or Poseidon or Hades a rapist despite that... not being the truth? And that “rape” had a waaaaaay different meaning back then. I’m not saying the gods are perfect and infalliable - I think they make mistakes and have regrets too - but I don’t think they have anything to do with the stories. Deity work is a core aspect of my craft. I adore the gods with my whole heart. The stories are still fun, but I’ve learned to dissociate them from the gods I know. I’m not saying that this is the right way to approach it - that depends on you. That’s just my take on it. 

And that concludes this post! At least for now. I may find some things to add later. I’m curious to see the comparisons you guys all come up with. Feel free to tag me if you do!