#( she pouts - no it's a frown! definitely! she totally looks so authoritative- )

[bunnyshot]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ INBOX PROMPT ࿐ྂ  ╰─▸ ❝ @geleum​  ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡  Accepting ‼ ༻       "  oh ?  come  on , now.  don't  look  at  me  that  way .  you  know  i  had  no  other  choice  ,  my  hands  were  tied  "  /  narrator vc: kaeya's  hands  were  NOT  tied  akdkwk

     No way ━━━━ he can’t HONESTLY expect her to believe that? She wasn’t a junior anymore. She no longer followed after the Captains like an excitable puppy, she had the trained eyes of a true Outrider on him, so Amber has no problem calling Kaeya out openly

❝  Of course you did! There’s always a choice. And besides, I’ve read the handbook you know, I’m pretty sure there’s no page in there that says the Calvary Captain can do whatever he wants.  ❞

                So Amber says, but truthfully trying to memorise                                    EVERYTHING in a book was ... difficult. 

Anyway! She was going to continue glaring at him with a hmph, foot TAPPING with her frustrations. There was no escaping her sights, && while she may care for her fellow knights greatly it didn’t silence her own suspicions of their actions. Especially when someone kept disappearing and doing things by himself! 

[princesweetpea]

I Found | Sweet Pea x Aurora Jones (oc)

All Chapters Here

Chapter: THIRTEEN

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, angst

READ IT ON AO3

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! I took some summer classes and I was trying to write this while simultaneously writing several ten-page papers. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave a comment and tell me what you think!

Jughead released Sweet Pea from the restrictive hold on the denim of his vest. The two boys continued with a screaming match as Mambo and Jughead watched cautiously on standby, ready to intervene again if necessary.

“Are you done with your tantrum? You look like your dad when that vein pops out in your forehead.” Sweet Pea taunted with a snort. Jughead feigned a cough to conceal his laughter at the mention of the hotheaded boy’s father. As if on cue, Reggie’s vein throbbed as he lunged forward yet again and knocked Sweet Pea backward onto the stairs. Reggie turned to Rory, spewing venom that she didn’t pay attention to, and suddenly Reggie was being knocked backward onto the ground. Everything seemed to happen too quickly for Rory to keep up.

“Rory, get him out of here now!” Jughead boomed authoritatively, referring to the brawny Serpent that he was struggling to restrain. Sweet Pea thrashed against her cousin’s hold as he shouted expletives at the now unconscious Bulldog on the hardwood of the living room. Rory was sure that he would have still been on top of Reggie if Jughead was not currently holding him in place.

“He’s still breathing, at least,” Mambo informed Jughead through gritted teeth. “He wouldn’t be if I had gotten to him first.”

Rory splashed her face with water and exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm herself. She didn’t know why she and Sweet Pea had begrudgingly turned into each other’s keepers, or why Jughead couldn’t have taken care of his own gang member. He’s probably blackmailing Reggie into not pressing charges. Rory snorted to herself as she pat her face dry with a paper towel. She exited the bathroom and made her way toward the table that Sweet Pea was sitting — or rather, pouting — at. Pop’s was the only neutral meeting place that she could think of going, even though Sweet Pea gave her no choice in their destination when they sped off on his motorcycle. She slid into the booth; Sweet Pea avoided eye contact. Veronica practically pranced over to their table, tray on her shoulder and a grin on her face. None of this would have happened if she wasn’t ping-ponging between Archie and Reggie.

“Here is your strawberry milkshake.” She beamed as she placed the glass in front of her. Rory furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the perfect swirl of whipped cream topped with a cherry.

“Veronica, I didn’t order this.” Rory stated quizzically. Veronica’s eyes flicked over to Sweet Pea and then back to her. Rory nodded slowly, shifting her eyes to study his face.

“Are you guys ready to order?” Veronica asked as she flipped her notepad open.

“We need a few minutes.” Sweet Pea mumbled, though he and Rory both knew what they wanted already. He just wanted her to leave them alone. It was the first thing he had said at all since they left the house. The skin around his left eye began to darken and gleam a deep shade of purple in the light.

“Do you at least want something to drink for now?” Rory asked him, noticing that Veronica had only brought the milkshake over to them. Sweet Pea did not reply but simply turned his head to look out into the dimly lit parking lot. She rolled her eyes. She hated having to baby the last person that she could want to spend her night with, but she felt somewhat responsible for the fight even though she knew that she wasn’t. “Would you just bring him a water for now, please? Maybe an ice pack, too, if you have one?” Rory requested with a small smile. She muttered her thanks as Veronica sauntered off toward the kitchen. The tension in the air was thick, seemingly suffocating, as the silence grew longer. “How did you know that I order a strawberry milkshake?” She asked. Sweet Pea shrugged.

“Lucky guess, I suppose. You seem like a strawberry milkshake kind of girl,” he mumbled unconvincingly. She narrowed her eyes as she studied his face, but decided to let it go. She took a large sip of the creamy dessert and she signed in relief at the welcomed sweetness. A faint smile crept onto his face as he maintained his gaze into the night. “Taste good?” He asked amusedly. His voice bounced off of the glass of the window he was facing.

“I really needed this. Thank you for your… Lucky guess, I suppose.” She prodded with a cheeky smirk. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his side of the booth so he was facing her.

“So, maybe it wasn’t just a lucky guess,” he began awkwardly. She raised a brow. “Every time we are here at the same time, you seem to always get the same thing. A strawberry milkshake and eggs with bacon and hash browns,” Rory cocked her head to the side in amusement.  He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. “I know that sounds beyond creepy.”

“Have you been watching me, Sweet Pea?” She suppressed her laughter as she watched him squirm.

“No,” he replied a bit too quickly. “No. I’m just very observant of my surroundings. Don’t flatter yourself, princess.”

“I didn’t peg you as the paranoid type.” She teased, taking another sip of her milkshake.

“I’m not.” He grumbled defensively with an eyeroll. Veronica returned with a glass of ice water and a bag of frozen peas.

“We didn’t have an icepack. I hope this is okay,” she chuckled. Rory smiled in response as she took the bag from her. “Are you guys ready to order?” Rory shifted her focus back to Sweet Pea, silently urging him to order first.

“I’ll have a deluxe bacon burger with fries, and I’m guessing she will have –” Sweet Pea smirked before she cut him off.

“I’ll have the…” Rory fumbled with the menu, desperate to prove Sweet Pea wrong. She ordered the first thing her eyes landed on. “Deluxe bacon burger with fries, as well. No lettuce or tomatoes, please.” He grinned at her.

“So… The regular bacon burger.” Veronica chuckled to herself as she crossed out what she had previously written. Sweet Pea narrowed his eyes at her, not liking her snarky tone.

“No,” he began, folding his arms over his chest. “A deluxe bacon burger with no lettuce or tomatoes.” Veronica blinked at him before clearing her throat. She snapped the notepad closed.

“Your food will be out shortly.” She plastered a fake smile on her face as she excused herself.

“You’re so annoying,” Rory groaned as soon as Veronica was out of earshot. Sweet Pea shrugged; a familiar smirk graced his handsome face. “Why did you do that?”

“She was being rude and I don’t like her.” He stated, taking a sip of water. Rory slid the bag of peas across the table and gave him a look. He rolled his eyes before bringing the bag to his bruising skin. He winced.

“You were the one being rude,” she sighed. “I thought you two were cool? I mean, the Serpents worked for her at one point.”

“Professional courtesy,” he winced again as he repositioned the bag on his face. “She’s too pretentious. It’s like… It’s like everything that I hate about the Northside is packed into one person. Same thing with your boyfriend for the most part.” He teased.

“He is not my boyfriend,” she huffed. “Not anymore,” she stared down at the table for the few minutes of silence between the pair. When she finally looked up again, Sweet Pea’s eyes were still on her, his gaze soft. She wasn’t familiar with the expression he wore, but he seemed to be deep in thought. His expression hardened once again once he realized she was staring at him. “Why did you go after him again after Jughead and Mambo separated the two of you?” He blinked at her, not expecting Rory to ask a question with a seemingly obvious answer.

“Aside from him tackling me again? Because of what he said to you afterward.”

“What did he say?” She furrowed her brow and searched her memory for anything that would have set off both him and Mambo. Nothing.

“I’m definitely not repeating it.”

“Sweet Pea,” Rory groaned. “Just say it!” He stared at her blankly. His discomfort was growing with each second that passed. “When have you ever passed up an opportunity to insult me?” She snorted. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“What are you, some kind of Southside slut now? Fucking every guy that you see? Did you fuck Sweet Pea and Fangs, too? Did they all take turns on you?” Sweet Pea snarled lowly and almost robotically, as if the words had been burned into his brain. Rory winced before slumping her shoulders and shaking her head.

“When he’s mad, he just sees red. He says things that –”

“That he doesn’t mean?” He raised an eyebrow. He looked amused. She shrugged, feeling embarrassed for making excuses for him. “Do you honestly think that he didn’t mean any of that?” He asked. Her mouth twitched downward into a frown.

“I guess he was right… At least a little bit.” She sighed, anxiously running her hands over her arms to comfort herself. Sweet Pea’s face contorted in disgust.

“So, sleeping with a total of three people, including him, is ‘every guy you see?’ Oh, please. He probably sleeps with three people within a week. Reggie Mantle doesn’t know jack shit about anything. Get fucking real.” He grumbled. He was growing increasingly more annoyed, especially since he didn’t want to talk about this in the first place.

“So, you knocked him out because he brought your name into it?” She scoffed. Of course.

“Partly,” he paused. She raised a brow. “No Serpent stands alone.”

“I’m not a Serpent.” Rory reminded him with an exasperated sigh.

“Legacy.” He countered, a smirk once again taking its rightful place on his face. She rolled her eyes. An uncomfortable silence set in, and neither of them were in any hurry to break it. Sweet Pea drummed his fingers on the table rhythmically before letting out a short wheeze of a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Rory asked monotonously. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just say it, Sweet Pea. Fuck’s sake.” He rolled his eyes and motioned between the two of them.

“This is the longest and calmest conversation that we have ever had,” he chuckled to himself. She shrugged, not seeing the humor in the situation. “I mean, I’m impressed that we haven’t tried to rip out each other’s jugular by now.”

“It’s only been so easy because you’re being incredibly cooperative for once in your life.” She simpered. He furrowed his eyebrows and reached across the table for her melting milkshake. He stirred it around with the straw before taking a sip, ignoring Rory’s protests.

“I’m always cooperative. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Sweet Pea grinned. It was Rory’s turn to laugh. She snatched her milkshake back while he was mid-sip, causing the liquid to sputter from the straw and drip down his chin. He narrowed his eyes at her as he cleaned himself up with a napkin. A waitress, that was not Veronica, waddled over to the booth with a tray full of food. Rory wasn’t paying too much attention, but from the bits and pieces she had gathered, the waitress would be taking care of their needs for the rest of the night instead of Veronica. Sweet Pea displayed a satisfied grin as Rory glowered at him. He laid the pleasantries on thick, saying “please” and “thank you” to everything that the woman was saying. Rory swore that she had never heard him act so polite. Once the waitress excused herself, Sweet Pea took a large bite out of his burger.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” She scoffed. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “You made Veronica switch tables.” He gave her a wide grin to the best of his ability, considering his mouth was full of food.

“I’m very pleased.” He stated simply. The bell of the diner’s door dinged, but it was only when the light faded from Sweet Pea’s eyes that Rory turned her head to investigate. A very lost-looking Kevin Keller stepped up to the counter and placed an order to-go. She tried to do her best to distract him.

“You know, if you were always so compliant, maybe we could have been… Friends, or something.” Rory stated before taking a bite out of her burger. His dark eyes shifted focus back onto her, and for a second, it looked as if he were about to burst into laughter.

“Me and you? Friends?” He snorted. “That could never happen.” He popped a couple of fries into his mouth after dipping them in ketchup and sat back with his arms folded over his chest.

“Why is that, exactly?” She furrowed her eyebrows. She tried her best not to show that she was offended.

“Friends don’t fuck.”

“Don’t worry, that will never happen again.”

“We still couldn’t be friends. Ever.” He stared at her blankly before scoffing and muttering something inaudibly under his breath. Whatever. Sweet Pea moved to grab the melting bag of peas, but froze. He balled his fists to the point of his knuckles turning white. Kevin cautiously shuffled up to their table. His eyes were red and swollen, and it was obvious that he’d been crying. Rory gave him a somewhat surprised smile. Since Kevin returned from The Farm, he had mostly been keeping to himself. Before Rory could say anything, Kevin opened his mouth to speak.

“Sweet Pea –” his voice broke before he could get the words out. Sweet Pea kept his cold stare straight ahead, his knuckles somehow getting whiter. “I – about Fangs…” Sweet Pea’s gaze met Rory’s; his eyes were wild as his nostrils flared. She could tell that he was trying to stay calm, but he was quickly losing his cool. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” That was it. That sentence is what made Sweet Pea snap. Sweet Pea sprang from the bench of the booth and fisted the fabric of Kevin’s tank top, pushing him back roughly until he was bent backward over the diner counter.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? You’re lucky there are people around because if they weren’t, you would be leaving here with a broken nose,” Sweet Pea snarled, pushing him back further to get in his face. “My best friend is who-fucking-knows-where with who-fucking-knows-who! You brain-washed him, Keller. You took him away from us. Now he’s gone and you’re the only one that’s left? Bullshit. You know where they are. You know where he fucking is. So yeah, you’re sorry? No, I’m the one that’s sorry – sorry for trusting you with one of the few people I fucking cared about.” Sweet Pea released Kevin and quickly wiped the tears that were escaping his eyes. He fished a crisp twenty-dollar bill from his back pocket and slammed it down on the counter, making Kevin flinch, before pushing past the crowd that had formed and out the door. Kevin wiped his eyes and grabbed his to-go bag before hastily exiting as well, leaving Rory wide-eyed and stranded at the diner.

[disappearinginq]

Across the Universe Divide

Yep. Currently battling my most recent bout of insomnia by sharing it with Smol!Bellamy and Paternal!Kane. Also, totally making up so head canon as I move along with my fluffy intermissions for all of my super dark stories I’m working on. 

“How about that one?”

“Ursa Major.”

“And that one?”

“Orion.”

“Hmmm…” Marcus mused thoughtfully. “You’re better at this than I am. How about…that one?”

The little boy in his lap followed his finger, frowning when he saw what he was pointing at. “That’s not a star, that’s the moon,” he chastised.

The observation deck was deserted except for the two of them. Marcus was technically on shift, but not many were in need of spiritual guidance in the middle of the sleep cycle, and Bellamy was either unwilling or unable to sleep yet again. Poor Aurora was at her wit’s end with the kid, but Abby assured her it was normal for the younger generation to have less of a concept of night and day cycles.

Fortunately, Marcus had always been a bit of an insomniac, awake at odd hours and never quite in sync with the sleep shifts, and volunteered to keep Bellamy with him in the chapel with him. Aurora had told him repeatedly that it was unnecessary, but after she accidentally stitched through her finger instead of the shirt she was mending because she hadn’t slept in who even knew how long, she gave up.  

At least now Marcus had company.

“A victim of my own success,” Marcus sighed dramatically. “I’ve been surpassed by my own pupil, and at the ripe old age of five.”

“Five and a half,” Bellamy corrected, trying to sound authoritative and failing miserably as he grinned from ear to ear, holding up one hand with all five fingers splayed out, and only his index crooked over on his other.

“One and a half hands,” Marcus challenged. “That’s younger than five, not older. If you’re only one and a half, then you definitely need to be in bed.”

“I am, see?” Bellamy protested, and pulled his blanket up over his head. “Blankets mean I’m in bed.”

Marcus snorted, trying not to laugh because then the kid would know he’d won, and his score was already abysmally low. “I don’t think that’s how it works, kiddo. But you are supposed to at least be making an effort to sleep, right?”

Bellamy hugged the blanket tighter around himself, lower lip jutting out in a near pout. “Why? It’s not like we have a night and day. Why can’t I just sleep when I’m tired?”

Damn the logic of a freakishly observant Bellamy.

“I’m not convinced you’re ever tired.”

Marcus had exactly zero experience when it came to kids, which, to be fair, could be said about any of the Ark adults who hadn’t had their own child yet. But at least some of them had the benefit of growing up around staggered ages, or just seemed a natural parent – like Aurora. Until Bellamy was born, Marcus was positive whatever gene it was that made a parent had skipped him.

Bellamy went quiet for a moment, leaning back against Marcus’s chest as he stared out at the star filled sky and the Earth below.

“Are they same from up here…as they are down there?” he asked, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

“From Earth?”

Bellamy bobbed his head just once.

“Yes. The stars that make up constellations are so far away from the Earth that we would have to be closer to them than to it for the stars to look any different than the ones we see from up here,” Marcus explained.

“Do they look the same from down there?”  

Marcus considered it for a moment. “Yes…and no. We can see more of them up here. There was a lot of light pollution on Earth, so if you lived in a city, you could hardly see them at all. And there would be different constellations that you could see, depending on what time of year it was, or what part of the Earth you lived on.”

The Earth below hung quietly below them, half shrouded in night and half in day. He’d never known there to be lights visible on the dark side of the Earth, but he’d seen plenty of pictures. The dots and bursts of lights across darkened continents always seemed like their own constellations, bright spots of life on a now dead planet.

Those pictures had always made him a little sad to think of all those stars burned out.

“Do you miss it?” Bellamy asked, suddenly quiet, his small fingers worrying the edge of the already frayed blanket.

“Miss what?”

“Earth.”

“It’s kind of hard to miss something you’ve never known,” Marcus answered, slowly, careful to keep his voice as low as Bellamy was making his. Maybe it meant the kid was finally nodding off. “I was born up here, same as you, kiddo. Same as everyone.”

“Dad missed it.” There was a quiet sniff, and Bellamy scrubbed the side of his face against the blanket. “Mom says that’s why he left.”

And instantly Marcus regretted his earlier words. Bellamy had never met his father. Abian died shortly after Aurora found out she was pregnant. He was a few years older than he and Aurora, but Aurora had fallen head over heels for the quiet man from Farm Station. Abian spent much of his time with the greenhouses, carefully tending what few flowers and plants they had that weren’t much use besides providing oxygen, brought aboard the Ark before the Earth died. He’d been allowed to keep them, arguing tactfully to the Council that if the Earth was truly dead, they would need something besides algae to grow if they ever wanted to have a green planet again.

He'd confided in Marcus later that if the Earth was dead when they finally returned, they would need flowers to leave on her grave.

Marcus supposed it was less traumatic to a five year old to tell him that his father missed the Earth and had to return and left a certain ambiguity about whether or not he was alive, rather than he committed suicide by Earth.

“Did you know you’re named after him?” Marcus asked softly. When Bellamy didn’t answer, but shifted closer so that his head was propped up on Marcus’s chest just below his chin, he took it as a sign to continue. “Your father’s name was Abian – he told me that in his language, it meant ‘friend’. Yours means the same – just in a different language.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Why didn’t she name me in his language?”

Marcus winced. He knew perfectly well why – because Aurora knew how much her husband missed the Earth of his forefathers. That his father’s stories of their beautiful island and connection to the sea and the earth made Abian feel like he was a sailor too long from home, and those stories went from being a connection to their past and their culture to being a lead weight around his feet that drowned him as surely as a stormy sea.

“She wanted you to have something of your father’s, but she didn’t want you to feel like you had to compare yourself to him.” Which was close enough to the truth, for a child anyway.

“I’d rather have him,” Bellamy said. “Mom doesn’t talk about him. I don’t even know what he looks like.”

Ouch.

“Just look in the mirror, kiddo.” He ran an affectionate hand over Bellamy’s tousled dark curls.

The boy was quiet for a long moment, and Marcus had a fleeting thought of victory that maybe, just maybe, he’d finally nodded off, until he pulled his legs up, tucking them underneath the blanket with him. “Tell me more stories. Ones I don’t know.”

Marcus sat quietly for a moment, taking in the stillness of the Ark, the quiet thrum of the engines and the recycled air through the vents. Below them looking beautiful and haunting, the Earth they could see was now fully enveloped in night.

“I can do you one better, kid,” Marcus said softly. “I can tell you your father’s stories.” He hugged the boy closer, tilting his chair back so he could prop his feet up on the lower bulkheads until he was almost lying down in the chair. Aurora could kill him later for telling Bellamy his family’s stories, but Abian was Marcus’s friend, too.

“Once upon a time…the Earth had only the sky and the sea, and between the ocean and sky flew a beautiful kite. Unfortunately, this bird had no home…”