#CRISTINA STOP IGNORING YOUR FEELINGS FOR THOSE OF OTHERS NO

[swiftsdelucaa]

Mark Sloan x reader who is best friends with Meredith. They secretly get together a few weeks after he arrives in Seattle. A few months later she starts to feel sick and Meredith asks her if she could be pregnant. She recognizes she might be and takes a test. It comes out positive. She freaks out and Meredith calms her down. Meredith still doesn't know about her and Mark so she keeps begging the reader to tell her who the father is. This goes on for a few days, with a few friends joining in on the questioning. She hasn't told Mark yet though. During one of these conversations, Mark overhears them and drops the files he's holding. He goes to the reader and says “We're having a baby?” with a huge smile on his face. She nods and he hugs and kisses her. Meanwhile, those listening in are completely shocked because nobody saw that coming. Please?

❛ 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x Pregnant!reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: This was very specific ahah, hope you'll like it anon!

You rushed into the locker room, hoping you weren't late, luckily they were all still there.

"Where were you?" you have been warmly welcomed by your group.

"I was- I've just- well now I'm here" you took off your shirt starting to get ready, without adding details about your horrible morning.

"Oh the girl has a secret lover" Cristina said. You ignored her. "Maybe Jackson knows something more" she continued.

"What the hell are you saying?" he looked at her confused as he finished getting dressed.

"Wait, Jackson?!" April added in a worried tone.

"Kepner calm down" Lexie said to her.

"Okay stop, there isn't any secret lover anywhere" you said shutting up everyone.

A few minutes later everyone had already left, except Meredith, she was waiting for you. You were sitting on one of the benches staring into space.

"Y/n, are you okay?" the blonde sat next to you putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Umh, yeah..." you stood up to get ready to join the others, but just before you went to the door you stopped feeling the urge to throw up.

"Oh hey" Meredith got up quickly to help you. "Oh my God, are you pregnant?"

"What?" you recovered while she accompanied you to the bathroom to rinse your face.

"So?" Meredith's curious voice interrupted your stillness. You looked at her as if to ask where she was getting at, and a smile appeared on her face. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" she asked again.

Actually you didn't know what to answer her, it could be possible.

"I... don't know..." you said confused.

"Okay, stay here, I'm going to get a test" she rushed out to find one, the hospital definitely had one.

Meanwhile you sat down for a moment. How would Mark react? I mean, you'd been dating for a few months now and no one knew about it, but you had no idea what he would think about the idea of having a baby.

"Okay, here's!" Meredith came back suddenly making you scare. You took the test without thinking twice, anxiety was starting to rise. One day you would have thought about having baby and starting a family, but one day... now it would have been challenging, the residency was already giving you enough stress. But that day had come sooner than you thought, what the test said was clear.

You came out of the bathroom where Meredith was waiting for you.

"Positive?" you answered her by nodding and she jumped up to come towards you.

"Are we happy?" she asked you tried to hold back her excitement.

"I-" anxiety began to take over. "I'm just starting out, how do I handle all this? It's a miracle I can remember my keys when I go out, I don't have the responsibility like a good mother would have!" you were about to freak out.

"Ok, you're panicking, calm down" Meredith made you sit back on the bench. "You will have time for your baby, when you see him he'll become the only thing that matters to you, and well then you will become more responsible too… I hope" you let out a small laugh.

"You're right" you managed to come to your senses, while a huge smile was created on your face. "I'm gonna have a baby!" you exclaimed realizing the situation.

"Yeah!" Meredith literally choked you trying to hug you.

"Wait, so you really have a secret lover?" she asked more curious. You weren't ready to tell her, but you couldn't deny it, because the baby was there and he certainly couldn't have created on his own. "Oh my God is really Jackson?!"

"What? No!" she wouldn't even leave you alone for a second until you told her who the father was. For now you used the excuse of going back to work to get out of the way, but you should have thought of something else in the future. Even if she sooner or later she would find out.

During the day you managed to find a moment for yourself, alone to rest in one of the call rooms, when you then heard the sound of the door opening.

"We had the same idea" you got out of bed having recognized the voice.

"Hey" you approached Mark to kiss him. He smiled at you as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look happy" he told you.

"I am" you kept looking at him smiling. You were so torn between telling him or waiting, but your pager preceded all your thoughts.

"Fuck, I'm sorry I have to..."

"I know" he gave you one last little kiss to greet you, you looked at him one last time before leaving. Yes, you would have waited.

Meanwhile, as these weeks went by, the thing that annoyed you and made difficult to go on the most wasn't the early pregnancy symptoms, but Meredith. God, you didn't think she could get this annoying. She wanted to know at all costs who the father of the baby was, sometimes you just wanted to disappear from the world for this. Yeah well, you would have done the same thing in her side, but it was so frustrating.

"Please Y/n, I won't say to anyone, you can trust me!" at one point you stopped to think about it. She was important to you, your lives depended on each other, telling her wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Okay... I have someone here in this hospital..." you sighed before revealing his name. "It's Mark"

"Mark Sloan?!" she repeated raising her eyebrows almost in shock.

"Yes, Mark and I are having a baby!" you repeated too, still almost incredulous.

"Are we going to have a baby?" you whipped around behind you at hearing her voice as he dropped the file he was holding. This wasn't exactly the moment you wanted him to know, so you looked at him nodding.

"Oh my God Y/n!" he approached you embracing you tightly, even managing to convey to you all the happiness he felt at that moment, then he began to kiss you intensely, not caring about the people who were around there. You wouldn't expected this reaction but you were so happy.

"I love you Y/n" at that moment all those hormones could have made you cry.

"I love you too Mark" you went back to kissing him. Meredith was smiling at you from behind, while everyone was completely paralyzed by the news.

"Y/n's having a baby?"

"Sloan's having a baby??"

"Wait, Mark and Y/n are together?!" Cristina, Lexie, Jackson and April were there wondering and unable to grasp the whole situation.

"Why is no one working in this fucking hospital?" you said confused and annoyed that they found out it too like this.

"Don't care about it, we'll be the best family in the world" he put his hand on your cheek to caress you as your foreheads rested against each other.

[littlx-songbxrd]

Im gonna go ahead and life react in the tags

But know my initial reactiom to seeing the notification was just going like "JAJJAA NO-"

And maybe one day I'll get around to fixing myself too

Ok so I was actually planning on writing a Cristina centric fic for a while now, but I talked to @littlx-songbxrd recently about her realizing that she's actually a two (enneagram) and I think Cristina is as well. So now I'm dedicating this fic to Zia and all the other twos out there!

I hope you like it.

Also minor trivia, Cristina calling Mexico City DF comes from Distrito Federal which in 2016 was changed to Ciudad de México or CDMX.

Cw: Anxiety and panic attacks.

Cristina had gotten quite used to holding her breath.

Over the years, for as long as she could remember she was always forgetting to breathe. Or at least Cristina told herself it was forgetting. That was more comfortable then the alternatives. That she liked the feeling of her lungs burning?

No she was probably just used to it.

And Cristina knew deep down why she had so much stress. Why she couldn't breathe. She was always taking on everyone else's problems and making them hers. Not that she minded of course.

I just want to help. That's what she always said.

To Emma when she came to her with relationship troubles or anxiety about the future, or to her mother when she worried about money and running the institute. Or even to Mark and Kieran when they came to her with.. with their absolutely everything.

She certainly wasn't bitter. Not in the slightest. She loved caring for the people she loved. She believed in doing good and making the world a better place.

But for how long now had it come at this expense of her own feelings? Her own sanity?

Jaime had once said that she was too soft. She was too soft and she loved a problem she could fix and that made her prone to latching onto broken and damaged people.

She hadn't realized at the time that he was talking about himself.

And it had taken a long time to stop blaming herself. When she had walked into the garden that night and heard Jaime drunkenly telling Diego about how they should be the Rosales family in charge of the what she knew then as the DF institute (or Distrito Federal).

He was telling Diego about how he should marry her to gain control of the institute and Jaime would become her Parabatai.

But he would have the harder job.

Those were his exact words.

She had ran that day, too scared and overwhelmed to process what had happened. Cristina was unwilling to process any of her emotions surrounding that night so she buried it and moved on. Found new people to take care of.

But there was always that nagging question at the back of her mind that kept her awake at night.

Why wasn't I good enough? Why didn't he want me as his friend anymore? Or did he ever?

She found herself so unable to summon any anger towards either of them no matter how much she knew they probably deserved it. Not that she was even really trying to. Even if she was the slightest bit angry for what had happened, it didn't matter now.

What she felt didn't matter, it was over.

Cristina put her energy into helping Emma and The Blackthorns. Because they needed her. They needed a lot more then just what she could offer but Cristina was willing to try. She was willing to give her new best friend and her strange but wonderful family all she had. Because it was right and they deserved it.

They were all so kind and good, she could see it in they way they all loved each other fiercely and devotedly.

In a way that no one had ever really loved her.

But that didn't matter. It wasn't importent.

When Mark Blackthorn had first come into her life he was so scared, confused and overwhelmed. He barely even remembered who he was in the beginning. And then he had reached for her. And she had been sure to never let go.

Cristina adored him. Adored his kindness and his strength. She adored his strange little quirks that didn't really make sense to anyone, not even Kieran. But they didn't need to understand him to love him.

Kieran was different, in the sense that he didn't ask for her help. In fact he despised her in the beginning. And when she looked into that icy glare, so full of revulsion and contempt, she probably should have been afraid or at least cautious.

But she was curious. She was fascinated by this faerie who possessed so much passion and gentleness all at once, who looked at Mark with so much clear devotion in his gaze but also seemed so desperate. So broken.

She wanted to reach inside him and do all she could to meld the peices back together same as Mark.

Or was his heart ever whole? Kieran contained to be a mystery containing multitudes and there was still so much even now that she still didn't know. She wished she could tell him how badly she needed it. Needed to know everything so she could help him and be there for him.

All she wanted to do was heal his broken heart. To build him up until he was good as new.

Emma had pointed out that her affinity for tragic damaged heroes might have inevitably lead her to both him and Mark. And she may have been right.

But Cristina never viewed herself as any sort of savior. She didn't even need the credit or any gratitude. The smiles on her boys faces and that soft lightening of Kieran's hair to a sky blue was payment enough.

However, as happy as it made her to help, to give, the past few weeks had been incredibly taxing. She had volunteered to take on extra work for Alec while he and Magnus were in vacation and also told Helen and Haline that she would help start training their daughter while they searched for a more permanent tutor.

She was happy to do it of course. It was just that between her own work, her extra responsibilities, Kieran having been too busy to visit the cottage lately and her trying to help Mark deal with his grief and frustration over being separated from him for so long, as well as her own feelings....

Well, Cristina was possibly slightly overwhelmed.

But it was fine. It was what she told herself over and over again when she couldn't sleep or when she was forgetting to breathe. It was fine. She dug her fingernails into her palms and did her paperwork as her body shook and she tried to stop the pen from moving haphazardly all over the page.

She was fine. She checked the clock. It was three in the morning. She had three more hours before she had to be up to portal to LA for her training session with Ellie. Her lungs burned and she took in another shakey gasp.

Cristina was fine. She could feel tears beginning to prickle her eyes as her chest heaved. It had been months since she had seen Kieran or corresponded with him. She wasn't even sure if he was ok. It wasn't as though General Winter or any of the other fae in Kieran's court would care enough to tell either her or Mark if something had happened.

Cristina clasped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing out loud. Mark was still asleep in bed next to her desk and she didn't want to wake him. She slid carefully off of her chair and sat underneath the desk she and Mark shared in their room at the New York institute.

Being under something had always made her feel safer for some reason. And hiding away so that she could hide her tears was how she made sure no one felt obligated to take care of her.

Cristina gasped frantically, her breathing had become even more erratic. Her vision was blurring and she could hear a slight pounding in her ears. She tried to gasp for air again but she couldn't inhale.

"Cristina?" Mark murmered sleepily.

All she could do was whine frantically in response.

"Oh Tina," Mark dismayed. "Where are you? Are you under the desk?"

Before Cristina could respond, his concerned face appeared in front of her as he crouched down. "What is it my love?" He cooed, slowly reaching for her.

She instinctively flinched on impact without thinking. The feeling of someone touching her caused her already rapid wheezing to pick up. She whimpered, glutching at the front of her shirt. The entire thing was soaked in sweat.

Mark looked even more concerned. "Cristina, I think you might be having a panic attack. I need you to take some deep breaths for me ok? Slowly."

Cristina let out a frustrated grunt. That was what she had been trying to do the entire time! But still she listened to Mark and tried to slow her breathing.

"It's going to be alright Tina," he whispered to her.

But it wasn't. It was never going to be alright. Kieran had been unreachable for months, she had made all these promises to people and now she was failing them, the paperwork was piling up and she was failing everyone and she had woken Mark up because she was too weak to handle a bit of stress and she hadn't called her mother back like she was supposed to and she was a failure she was pathetic and by the angel she couldn't breathe she couldn't breathe couldn't breathe couldn't-

"-need you to focus," Mark was saying, squeezing her hand. "Deep slow breaths Cristina. Try inhaling for four, holding it for seven and exhaling for eight. Please Cristina."

She didn't want to, but Cristina listened to him. She focused on Mark's face and stared into his mismatched eyes as she followed the pattern he gave her. She had always thought his eyes were stunning. A clear example of everything faerie about him, what made him different.

She adored it all. Every single part of him right down to his fingernails. He was hers.

No, he was theirs.

Thoughts of Kieran reentered her mind. But now instead of feeling panicked, Cristina was just drained.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked tentatively.

Cristina couldn't answer. She couldn't explain exactly why she was so upset. She felt so ridiculous for causing such drama. But underneath it all, she was just sad.

Cristina wanted to weep, and for the first time in years or maybe longer, she wanted to weep for herself. But she didn't.

"I miss him," she admitted. "I miss him so much."

Mark looked crestfallen. "Oh Christina," he murmered. "I do as well. I wish you would have come to me with this."

Cristina shook her head. "It's not just that. It's-" she gestured around her frantically. "Everything!" She attempted to control her breathing. "I made all these promises, and I have all of these things to do."

Mark placed a hand on her arm. "Tina why didn't you just ask for help?" He asked gently. "Ask me for help?"

Cristina laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question. "Because I didn't want to make you take care of me. I don't want to be selfish."

Mark looked puzzled. "Is it selfish for me to like it when you look after me then?"

Cristina shook her head. "Of course not!"

Mark smiled softly. "Then why wouldn't the same be true for you?" He tenderly stroked her hair, tucking a peice behind her ear.

Cristina sighed. "I'm not sure. I just know it isn't." She knew how ridiculous it sounded, but she just couldn't help it. She had never been able to let herself be taken care of. She couldn't worry about her own wounds without feeling like a horrible person. So she would just give and give and give, slicing off peices of herself to give away to Mark and Kieran. To her friends and family and even people she barely knew.

And Cristina knew she would just cut until there was nothing left and she faded into nothing. Because death was preferable to having to say the dreaded words.

Help me.

Mark studied her for a moment. "Tina, you are always so generous and kind. You have such a good heart and I love you for wanting to take care of everyone, but you can't just forget about yourself." He gently cupped her cheek with his right hand.

"It doesn't make you a bad person to ask for help. Ok? Please tell me you'll try to ask for it when things get to be too much."

Cristina wanted to argue with him but she couldn't. Not when he was looking at her like that. She leaned into his hand, chasing the warmth.

"Ok," she resigned. "Ok I'll try."

Tag list: @lavender-scented-rat   @littlx-songbxrd @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan   @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @tired-vin @phoenix-and-dragon @amchara-fic @wagner-fell @sandersgrey @the-wckd-powers @spooky-drusilla @the-blackdale

[marvelsdc22]

You’re Not A Rebound

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! Here’s one that’s been bouncing around in my head for a hot minute, enjoy!! :)

Note: Y/N is one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons and has been working at Seattle Grace Hospital for a few months, becoming close with some of the interns and even Dr. Addison Montgomery, what happens when a case of toxic blood comes around and you see Addison risk it to give the patient more anesthesia? Based off of Season 3, Episode 14 Wishin’ and Hopin’

Word Count: 1,242

Since you had transferred over to Seattle Grace Hospital, you hadn’t had a boring day since, there was so much drama in this hospital, not like you were complaining, most times… You had come in to help with the more major surgeries, you being one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons out there, so your help was much needed at the hospital.

You were currently looking over some scans when Addison Montgomery came up beside you, her grabbing a chart from the basket “How are you?” You asked her, knowing that she was going through the divorce at them moment so she knew it would probably be hard for her “I’m fine, why do you ask?” She asked, you able to tell she was putting on a fake face “I was just-” you said, getting interrupted by your pager going off “Duty calls” you said, giving her a small smile which she returned, you feeling your heart flutter when she did, your crush on the obstetrician growing more the more you worked with her.

Later, you were working with Cristina to do an echo on Ellis Grey’s heart, you standing off to the side since you wanted her to do it “Everything alright there, Dr. Yang?” You asked, looking up from your notes and having noticed she was looking a little awkward working on Ellis “Perfectly fine, Dr. Y/L/N” Cristina said, glancing at you and you stared at her for a moment before you nodded, deciding to just let it drop “I want to see the doctor running the Alzheimer's trial” Ellis said, looking at you and you nodded “After this echo, I will let them know” you assured, looking at her and waiting for Cristina to finish before you had someone take Ellis back to her room.

A few hours later, you were heading to get ready for another surgery when your pager went off, making you raise an eyebrow as you rushed towards OR 1 “What’s going on?” You asked, looking at everyone, some of them using masks to breathe “The patient we have currently has toxic blood, knocked us all out” Richard filled you in, looking at you and you looked at the others “So, what do you need from me” you said, ready to help with whatever you needed to.

After a bit, you were helping get Burke and Derek ready to go in with the ortho suits “How much longer until they get here?” You heard Addison ask, glancing at her as she looked into the room “Like ten minutes” you said, finishing tying Burke up before you look at Addison “She’s waking up, we have to do something” she decided, tying a mask on and before you could stop her, she ran into the OR “Addi!” You shouted, following her towards the door, tying a mask on your face as well.

“Get out of there, Addison!” You shouted, watching as she quickly rushed to the machine and injected the girl with more anesthesia to knock her back out, you noticed that Addison was tripping over herself as she was rushing back for the door, you opening the door for her and catching her as she fell through the door “I got you, I got you” you promised, you heart beating a million miles a minute from how nervous you had gotten from her charging into that room “Let's get you on a machine” you said, leading her over and having her sit down before helping her hold a mask to her face.

You watched as she took some deep breaths, still looking out of it “Easy” you said when she tried to stand up, her gripping your arm when you pushed on her shoulder to keep her sitting “I need-” “You need to sit down, don’t you dare argue with me Montgomery” you said sternly, using your doctor voice to which she gave you a look which you ignored as you kneeled down in front of her and rested your hands cautiously on her legs, which she allowed you to do.

“I’m feeling better” you heard her say after a bit of silence, causing you to look up from where you were staring at one of the tiles “Okay” you said softly, standing up and taking the mask from her, the two of you locking eyes for a moment before Derek cleared his throat “We have to get the interns ready” he said, gesturing to them when they came into the room, you pulling away from her quickly as you nodded “Right” you said before going over to help them out.

Once you guys had saved the woman's life, you were walking down the hallway, muttering to yourself as you read over some notes, gasping when someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into a supply closet “What the-” you started, stopping when you were suddenly face to face with Addison Montgomery, the dim lighting making it hard for you to make out much, but you knew it was her, the long, red hair over her shoulders and those beautiful green eyes staring into yours.

“Dr. Montgomery” you breathed, looking at her and you watched as she just silently stared at you for a moment before the next thing you knew, she was crushing her lips onto yours, which made you freeze for a moment before you melted into the kiss and returned it, then you came back to your senses and gently pushed her away “Y/N-” She said, sounding a little hurt at the fact you were pushing her away “Addison… I like you, I do… But you’re just coming out of a divorce with Derek and-” “And what, Y/N? You don’t think I can make my own decisions because of that” she accused, crossing her arms as she looked at you.

You reached out and grasped her arms gently “No, that’s not what it is… I like you too much, I just don’t want to be a rebound” you admitted softly, not wanting to ruin any of this and watching as her expression softened and she gently took one of your hands in hers “You’re not a rebound… Ever since you’ve come here, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you… Do you know how hard it is to try to save your own marriage when you’re sitting there?” She asked, laughing slightly which made you feel a bit guilty since you felt like maybe it was your fault they ended “You are so far from a rebound” she said, resting her forehead against yours which made you smile as you wrapped your arms around her.

The two of you stood there for a bit, just enjoying each other's company before you heard her pager go off “Before you go” you said, grabbing her arm when she went to head off and pulling her back to you, kissing her gently “Are we hiding this?” You asked softly, wanting to know since you didn’t want to tell Calli before you knew the terms “No, no hiding” she assured, giving your hand a squeeze before she pulled away “Good luck out there, Montgomery” you said, giving her a smile which she returned “You too, Y/L/N” she said before heading out of the room, leaving you to smile to yourself before you sighed, deciding to go back to your job, feeling like you were on cloud nine as you went about your business.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @natasha-danvers / @hopingforbarnes / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx / @venablemayfairgoode / @mmmmokdok​

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you want to be added to a Taglist, send me an Ask or a DM!! Hope you guys have a good day/night!! :)

Requests Open

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Dru meets Ash (Fan Fic)

This is Chap 6 of “Welcome to Faerieland”, a sequel to my Kitty Fan Fic "To never being parted" although it can be read as a standalone story.

Dru meets Ash (again, although she doesn’t know they have already met) in this Chapter.

AO3 Link here.

*****

Jaime and Dru landed a little away from a clearing where a revel was being held. Jaime hastily slipped the Eternidad back into his pocket. He would give it back to Cristina eventually, but in the meantime, he knew she had no trouble being escorted in and out of the Unseelie Court whenever she wanted to. Perks of being the King’s girlfriend. 

Jaime and Dru had both dressed in faerie clothes, in order to blend in. Dru was wearing a long azur blue dress that brought out the color of her eyes. It fell just above her ankles, revealing high-heeled boots (conveniently hiding a few daggers). An upturned collar and long sleeves covered the marks on her neck and arms, though the low-cut neckline would inescapably draw anyone’s attention to her cleavage. Her dark brown hair was efficiently pulled into an elegant bun. Where Jaime and Dru’s skin showed, both had covered their marks with concealer. 

As they walked toward the revel, and the music grew louder, Dru turned to Jaime. “I have to go find a friend of Nene’s. She may help us locate Ty and Kit. It’s better if I go alone, she knows the Blackthorns very well but she’s a bit wary around other Shadowhunters. Don’t stay too far, though. And of course, I don’t need to tell you not to drink or eat anything.”

“No, you don’t,” Jaime answered a little harshly. Blackthorns knew a great deal about the Fair Folk, but so did the Rosales, he wanted to remind her.

When they had finally joined the party, Dru waved at a faerie woman with blue hair and purple eyes who was standing next to a tent, in deep conversation with a kelpie, and left Jaime to stand awkwardly at the edge of the forest. 

He had not been there five minutes when a fey swooped in to offer some refreshments.

“No, thanks,” he replied immediately, lifting one of his hands reflexively to prevent the fey from coming any closer. 

“Are you certain? Mundanes are particularly fond of this one,” he said, pointing to a blue drink, “it makes you look younger. Not that you need it, of course.” 

“Huh. Is there a drink that makes you grow like two years older, without altering your appearance?” The faerie stared at him aghast. Jaime couldn’t blame him. “Never mind,  very  stupid question,” Jaime mumbled.

Dru appeared then, her eyes glowing in excitement. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the forest. 

“So... any information on where we could find your brother and Kit?”

“Have you ever been to a revel before?” She replied, ignoring his question.

“Hum. No, but Cristina told me a bit about them…”

“Come over here,” she said as she drew him further into the forest. She stopped in front of a tree, put both her hands on his chest and pushed him against the trunk. His back hit the wood with a loud  thump  but it was mostly drowned by the sound of his heart beating in his chest.

Her gaze was intense, dark eyelashes batting seductively over her blue-green eyes. Jaime swallowed.

“Er- Dru, what are you doing? Aren’t we supposed to go hunting for Ty and Kit?”

“Relaaax. What happens in Faerie stays in Faerie, doesn’t it?”

She bit her lower lip and he gasped.

“God, Dru, those lips…” Jaime choked. His thoughts were becoming more and more incoherent.

“Can I… kiss you?” she asked.

“God, yes. Please.” Jaime slumped against the tree trunk, feeling all the tension leave his body at once.

Dru closed her eyes and he did the same. As she pressed her full lips against his, he could feel blood burning through his veins like wildfire.  Yes, yes, finally. He could be struck by lightning - he probably would - he didn’t care. He would die a happy man.

She bit his lower lip and he could taste his own blood, but he didn’t mind.  Feisty  little Dru. He brought his hands on either side of her face to cup her cheeks, but instead of soft skin he felt a very light... stubble. He pulled away immediately and found himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes, the colour of a summer sky. Kit Herondale was smiling at him, his grin as mischievous as ever but somehow it looked wrong.  All wrong.

“What does your heart truly desire, little Shadowhunter?” he said, cocking his head, and it was not his voice, but a woman’s voice.

From one moment to another, Kit’s blond hair and blue eyes were replaced by a faerie woman with gray fine hair drifting around a pale face, her skin smooth and ageless. He was staring at a  leanansidhe. He cursed himself. What  a fool  he had been.

He stepped back, feeling sick, and hit something hard behind him. He was about to turn when he was dealt with a blow on the head. His sight blurred and he barely had the time to blink before he fell into unconsciousness. 

****

As she was talking to Nene’s friend, Dru saw Jaime disappear into the forest with a faerie.  What the hell was he thinking?  They weren’t here to have fun.

She thanked her contact, who unfortunately didn’t have any information, and moved to where Jaime had vanished inside the forest.

The tree trunks were spaced, but their branches leafy and close enough that it was difficult to see beyond a few feet.  She cursed Jaime silently as she got deeper inside the woods, the sounds of the revel now receding and being replaced by the sounds of nocturnal animals and insects. She thought about all the horror movies that warned you from doing just that.

If it wasn’t for her years of Shadowhunter training she wouldn’t have heard the soft footfalls behind her. She stepped further into the forest until she was at an advantageous position for a fight and whirled to face her stalker. It was a very tall faerie knight dressed in elegant velvety clothes. Probably gentry and part of the King’s guard. He smiled at her and she kept herself from shivering from the coldness of his grin. 

“What are you doing here all alone, little girl?”

He probably thought she was a helpless mundane with the Sight. Admittedly, she didn’t look like the Shadowhunter women type, with her curvy figure.

“Minding my own business. As you should.”

“Do you know there are dangerous creatures lurking in these woods?”

“I definitely do. And let me tell you a secret…” She cupped her hand around her mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. “I am the scariest one of them.”

The faerie knight laughed.

“I am Ruadhan Fairburn. I used to be one of the best knights of King Kieran’s guard,  and I have met him personally once. I am also acquainted with Gwyn ap Nudd, of the Wild Hunt. You certainly don’t frighten me.”

Oh, no. He did have a reputation as one of the realm’s best fighters, before King Kieran had suggested he retire, probably due to his attitude.

She mimed checking her watch (although she wasn’t wearing any). “Oooh, so it’s already time for a bit of name-dropping? Sorry, none of these ring a bell.”  

No need to tell him she had seen Gwyn cry in front of  Love actually  a week before, on Friday’s movie night, and that she affectionately called King Kieran  Kiki. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. When I am done with you,  my name will be printed in your memory.”

“Hmmm. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll pass.” She started running her hand through her hair casually, intending to pull out her hair stick made with adamas. It was a gift from Jem who had it made by Sister Emilia.

The faerie’s expression turned furious. “I am not really giving you a choice,” he said in a clipped tone.

An audible sigh had them both whip their head toward the general direction of the sound.

A few feet away, up a large tree, a boy - or rather a young man judging by his frame and the length of his long limbs - was lounging on the thickest branch. He was reading, holding his book high, so Dru could not see his face, only white blond hair tucked behind pointy ears. He was dressed in stunning finery, all black, his collar turned up. He was wearing dark silk gloves and his long fingers were splayed across the cover of his book. He was most certainly part of the gentry, or even royal blood, Dru thought.

“You heard the lady,” he said in a bored voice, and Dru could not help but startle at the sound. It was a beautiful, lyrical voice. “She is not interested. Now, move along. Go hump a tree or something.”

“Excuse me?” the faerie knight spluttered, his delicate features set in a mask of shock. “Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t know who  you are, but I know  what  you are, and that’s enough to convince me not to develop our budding relationship any further,” he answered, turning a page.

The knight started to advance on him, but the blond faerie didn’t even lift his nose from his book. With a flick of his hand, he had the faerie knight hauled away like a puppet, as if a giant invisible hand had grabbed him from behind.

“Don’t move any closer. What did I just say about me not wanting to develop our relationship further? Have you never been taught how to take no for an answer?”

The faerie knight was seething but he backed away, walking in reverse, before he whirled and disappeared inside the deep forest. 

“Thanks, I guess.” Dru said, relaxing her stance. “Although we could have avoided the drama. I had the situation quite in hand before you intervened. I could have knocked him out before he had the chance to spell out the word  asshole.”

The faerie laughed, and it was a beautiful chime sound.

“Ladies shouldn't have to dirty their hands,” he said, as if she had not just uttered the word “asshole”, disqualifying her as such.

“What century do you live in?” she asked, shaking her head. “Anyway, I am a Shadowhunter, dirtying my hands is part of the job description.”

She saw his whole body suddenly tense. Slowly, he brought the book down, just enough to reveal a pair of green eyes under delicate blond eyebrows. As soon as he caught sight of her, his eyes widened in surprise and he let the book fall on the ground, the resulting  thump  muffled by the grass.

In a single swift and elegant motion, he had jumped from his tree and was standing a few feet away, facing her.

Up close, she could see his eyes were a clear emerald green. It made her think of grass fields glowing under the spring sun. His features were sharp and ethereal, his white blond hair tousled as if they had caught wind. Physically, he was the opposite of Jaime, all pale white and thin silvery curls where Jaime had brown golden skin and dark thick hair. They both had a lean figure and a debonair manner, but where Jaime was almost gangly, the faerie was all graceful moves and regal stance. 

He is  absolutely gorgeous, Dru admitted reluctantly. And he was watching her as if he knew all the secrets of her heart, as if he had always known her and was merely returning to her after leaving for a short while. 

Although she was almost certain she had never met him, something about him struck her as oddly familiar. She was idly wondering whether her mind had conjured up one of the princes of her books. Maybe, he was the product of her own fantasy and he would disappear from one blink to another… But no, she had not been the only one to see him.  Get a grip, she told herself.

“It’s you,” he breathed. 

Dru tried to regain her composure. She straightened up as she answered. “It’s definitely me.” She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” he whispered in a daze.

By the Angel,  his voice. Everything about him ensnared your senses, enticed you to love and worship him. But Dru knew better than to let herself be fooled by men’s - especially faerie men’s - spells and enchantments. 

She swallowed and answered in her most detached voice. “Shakespeare. Romeo meets Juliet. Act I Scene 5. Already bringing out the heavy artillery, I see. Do you always quote other people’s work to make yourself interesting? Or do you  actually  have a personality?”

The strange prince was taken aback for a second. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. He was breathtaking when he smiled. 

“Oush,” he replied, miming a sword stabbing through his chest. “That went straight through my heart.”

“This line may work its spell on the naive and gullible girls you usually manage to sweep off their feet, but it definitely doesn’t work on me.” Dru sniffed.

The fey cocked his head, as if he was inspecting a strange wild animal. 

“You assume that I am trying to seduce you?”

She rolled her eyes and whirled, avoiding to stare at him for too long. He was quite intimidating. And she needed to find Jaime. 

“Don’t be a jerk, in addition to being a  cliché,” she said without a backward glance, as she walked away. She could hear the sound of his laugh behind her, echoing in the forest like ringing bells.

****

Tagging @gabtapia sorry I’ve been so busy lately but I am definitely back now with more chapters.

[deliciousdetectivestranger]

Posting 2nd chapter of my story, do tell me what you guys think.

You are the Mirror of My Soul

“Kit, can you hear me?”

Someone was calling out to him. Kit’s body ached all over while his head kept screaming at him to lie low and safe then act. He should heal himself but he was exhausted.

“Wake up please, Kit.”

This person was persistent and very much inconsiderate to not care about his situation. Kit reached out to grab a pillow whether to bury his head under it or to smother this annoying alarm clock he didn’t know but his hand found grass instead. He went taut as he tried to figure out where he was and suddenly cold wind slapped him in the face as he heard leaves rustle and wings flap.

“Christopher Jonathan Herondale!”

The person shook him and Kit fell into their arms. They were some kind of warrior given on their impressive physique, which made him even more alert until he noted their scent. Wild forest and open sky, a little bit of magic, and a hint of steel made Kit go lax with relief.

“Ash. Ash is that you?”

A shuddering relief went through the person’s body when Kit opened his eyes and stared into familiar green eyes.

“Thank goodness! I was so worried that you might be in a coma.”

“What happened?” Kit asked as he moved to stand up.

“What happened? What happened?” Ash let out a ‘can you believe this guy’ laugh.

“Repeating yourself is not going to answer my question and you will look like someone who has lost his marbles.”

Ash glared at him. “What happened is at the parley you and I fought for the crown of Seelie Court.”

“Yep. I do remember kicking your ass.”

“And then I blasted you with hellfire.” Ash continued as if hadn’t heard Kit. He had quite practice.

“A true fae. Cheating when it wasn’t suspected.”

“We are part-fae and part-shadowhunter. We have to fight with both of our heritages and use them to our utmost advantage. Plus, it’s not like you didn’t use your powers. We arrived here because you teleported us.”

“I was just following your lead.” Kit said with a sweet smile. At Ash’s glare he added, “Okay, you didn’t cheat. You looked for a loophole and used it.”

Ash opened his mouth to say something but a shadow passed over his young face and he sat against a tree with a loud thump.

Kit eyed him and this time asked him in a gentle tone, “What happened after I teleported us?”

“You teleported us nearly 630 feet in the sky. I flew us out with my wings and summoned vines to cushion our landing. I don’t know what happened at the parley but chaos, doubts, suspicion, threats will be high.”

Kit didn’t care about what happened at the parley. He could dwell on it later; Ash was more important.

“Then why are you in such a mood?” When Ash didn’t answer, Kit purposefully began to egg him, “Are you worried what the Seelie court will think? They will think you’ve been kidnapped by me. And the Alliance will think I’ve been kidnapped by you. It’s going to be an amusing blame game and I thoroughly plan on enjoying it.”

“Shut up! I don’t understand how you are finding this funny.”

Kit sat before Ash and took off the golden band, twirling it in his fingers. “I am not hurt Ash.” Ash flinched. “I would tell you if I were and if you had hurt me I would totally make you bow and scrape to my smallest wishes while I recuperate from my wounds." Seeing Ash ignore everything he said Kit continued in a sharp tone, "You listen to me and you listen well.”

“I understood that reference.” Ash instinctively muttered receiving a smile from Kit.

“We were fighting in the parley not as Kit and Ash but as The First Heir and The Seelie Prince. Every bit of it was real from the fight to your hellfire attack and my teleportation. But I know you weren’t ever going to hurt me. You won’t. Ever. And I know this just as you know you won’t ever be in danger from me.”

“You don’t get it. You lay there unmoving and I thought I had gone overboard with my act. I had killed you. I had truly become a Morgenstern, ruining lives of those who love us.”

And that was the crux of the matter. Arawn’s experiments and Annabelle Blackthorn’s maddening devotion had etched into Ash that no one will ever love him for who he was. His mother avoided him, too busy in her plans of uprising and weary of this unfamiliar son. Janus loved him for himself but Ash had realised that Janus' love for Clary was actually obsession which if not stopped would become fatal for everyone, and his love towards Ash was morphing into what Annabelle had showered him for those long years in Thule. He had hated her and he had begun to hate Janus as well but was there anyone in his life who truly loved him?

He had once escaped from the cottage at the Borderlands when Janus had gone to visit the Seelie Queen. He had found himself in the mortal world but it was strange to a boy raised in Faerie and a dystopian AU. Janus had started his shadowhunter training but there had never been lessons on mundanes. Panicked and weary of unknown attacks Ash had quite literally run into the one person on whom his Perfect Love didn’t work. Kit. Ash had been drawn towards this wondrous boy but had soon left for the Borderlands. One thing was clear whatever Kit would ever feel for Ash it would be true but did Ash dare to risk being like Janus and be obsessed with him?

The resolution hadn’t lasted for long with curiosity leading him to Kit again. Kit had been suspicious of him but then he was curious too. They had become acquaintances you didn’t want to meet, reluctant companions because there was something familiar in each other, accomplices against demons and finally friends who laughed, fought, shared secrets such as their problematic heritage (also Ty Blackthorn and Dru Blackthorn. They both had agreed they were in a hopeless situation.) and most of all understood each other better than anyone else.

“Except you didn’t and I didn’t create a shield because I knew you wouldn’t.” Ash turned his head away. “Look at me when I am talking to you Ashton.” Ash glared at him. Kit loved to more syllables to Ash’s name because according to him Shadowhunter names were long so they could be turned into nicknames and they were recognised by those nicknames. So, Kit had to find out Ash’s real name and if Ash found it bothersome, he could just tell Kit his name. It annoyed Ash endlessly but not as much as Kit’s other habit.

“I won’t even ask you to stop as you never listen.”

“Hey! I listen to you just fine.”

“And while we are on the topic, did you have to bring up my age at the parley?”

Kit smiled innocently and those who didn’t know him wouldn’t have doubted him at all. When Emma and Julian had returned from Thule, they had confessed all to the Blackthorns, and Kit, Cristina, Kieran, Alec, Magnus, Jace, and Clary. Their regrouping with Mark, Cristina, Kieran, Clary, and Jace was also discussed in detail. So, Kit had known a lot about Ash when they had first met and one of those things had been that Ash was near to the age of Mina, Max, Rafael, and Tavvy. Bossing Ash around was one of Kit’s favourite things to do, of course when the mood struck Kit also made Ash take the responsibility “because you’ve grown up so much in such short time”. Kit liked to say it was their thing, Ash heartily disagreed.

“Moving on, I know you ever won’t hurt me voluntarily or consciously. Ash, what about me? I have more powers than you. You think I don’t worry.” Ash glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “And if we are going to talk about living up to our last name then remember Herondales go crazy in love just as much as Morgensterns in the thrall of power. Both are dangerous.”

Kit took a deep breath and continued, “You were kept hidden because of your heritage just like I was. Janus may love you now but at first, it was because of Clary. How different is that from me? Tessa and Jem originally took me in because of Will.” Ash made a noise of protest. “Yes, they love me for me now but it doesn’t change that at first, they wanted to protect the Lost Herondale.”

“And if you are plagued by the fact that Perfect Love makes it impossible for them to love you on their terms then remember me. I am here for you. I always will be. Just like you will be for me. I have my fair share of insecurities too, no one had ever loved me until Tessa and Jem.”

“We make such a troubled pair, don’t we? A boy who believes no one can love him genuinely and a boy who believes he can’t be loved.”

“You are a mirror of my soul. Forged by our experiences, expectations of our powers, embodiments of our ancestry but never forget that we chose each other.”

Ash smiled as if the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulder at Kit’s words. Kit placed Ash’s golden band on his own head.

“Gold on gold looks gaudy. You need another metal for your band.”

Kit looked concerned at the idea of not being refined. He looked at the sky and realised dusk had tip-toed on them. He thought back to the mayhem running rampant in Shadow World and sighing wiped the back of his left hand to dispel a simple but quite unbreakable spell. Ash mimicked the action on the right side of his temple. Hidden beneath spells were twin runes.

“Well, then shall we raise hell, my Parabatai?”

[drreporting]

Prompt Omelia sharing a bath together something sweet please

Baby Bath

“I forgot how tiring it is manufacturing a human being,” Amelia muttered, half sarcastically, as she leaned her back against Owen’s chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Thank god the nausea is gone.”

“Well, I can put you on the schedule for less hours at work…” He stopped as soon as he saw those piercing blues staring up at him accusingly. “Never mind,” he finished, chuckling as he rubbed her shoulders, splashing water over them to distract her from her irritation.

“I hope this isn’t the chief of surgery speaking to me right now,” she chimed, closing her eyes as she smirked, her jaw evidently tense.

Over the past couple of weeks, she and Owen had challenged each other on numerous occasions during work, causing a lot of tension amidst staff members and patients with their arguments. It was hard to pick a side when one side was the chief of neurosurgery, and the other side was the chief of surgery, especially when they were engaged to each other. Picking a side at work meant picking a side in their relationship, and many of the doctors there had realized long ago that it made no sense to do either, far less both. The power struggle was evident between the two, but no one would openly admit that as the reason for all their squabbles. Owen was coddling her because she was pregnant, and she was being arrogantly independent to counteract it. Something had to give.

Their most recent fight had been catalyzed by Owen rearranging Amelia’s surgeries so that she would spend less time on her feet while working. To say that had sent Amelia over the edge, was an understatement; she hated being micromanaged. The action had led to an all-out yelling session right outside the OR that was supposed to be ready for her surgery, and Owen had unfortunately made the mistake of exercising his full control, as chief of surgery. He’d basically given her a ‘time-out’ in front of all their colleagues, as though she were a resident, and banished her to his office where her subordinates assumed, she would receive the actual punishment for her public disrespect. Although she complied, she obviously did not respond well to it in the end. By the time he’d made it there to privately address their argument, she’d torn up the entire room, the mess of it all making it known how angry she was. It was like a hurricane had torn through his office.

“Amelia, what is wrong with you?” Owen exclaimed as he observed his fiancée pelting all the papers off his desk, and across the room.

“Why are you undermining me in front of my students?” she yelled at him, “I am the chief of neurosurgery-”

“Well, you’re not acting like it,” he responded blandly, hinting at the mini tantrum she appeared to be having in his office, “You’re being completely irrational…”

“I had a surgery booked.”

“And you’re pregnant and you’ve already logged almost 30 hours in the past two days, so no,” he cut her off, raising a hand to silence her, “No more long hours.” Before he could continue his lecture, a knock came to the door, and Derek peaked through the crack, just in time to see the mess. He chose to ignore it, knowing he had more important matters at hand, and went ahead with his inquiry.

“Hey Hunt, is the patient prepped for OR 1 as yet?” Derek asked, not knowing of the yelling match, or its origin.

Before Owen could get a word out, Amelia turned to her brother and yelled, “Get out!” He froze, looking at Derek with a bit of shock on his face. He had not expected her to yell at him.

Derek looked between the two before looking back at his sister. “Okay then…” As soon as he exited the room, she glared at Owen once more.

“Amelia, just…please-”

“No,” she cut him off this time, raising her hand; the hurricane had only just begun, “You cannot use your power to boss me around and undermine me, just because I am pregnant with your child!” she yelled at him, clearly enough for some of the doctors outside to hear, “I am not your property, and I am not a plant!” It was hard to keep a straight face when she had just compared herself to a plant, but Owen knew it would be counterintuitive to laugh right now. They had yet to announce to the rest of the hospital the good news, so he was sure those eavesdropping doctors would do the job for them, and probably spread the news of their most recent fight too.

“You don’t know how to take care of yourself.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him in disgust. How could he have the audacity to say that?

“I know how to take care of myself,” she growled, her fists clenched as though she was ready to pummel him, “Let’s not forget that I had to birth and raise Ryan, all by myself!” She pressed a palm to her forehead as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “You just don’t know how to stop controlling people.”

“I am not controlling you, Amelia,” he disagreed, “Look, can we just simmer down a bit?”

“So, what is it that you’re doing?” she accused him, folding her arms. Owen sighed and scratched the back of his head.

Walking to her, he squeezed her arms and looked down at her. “I just want you to be safe and I want the baby to be healthy, and you’re not being safe!”

“Owen, I’m pregnant, not dying,” she reminded him, “And Arizona has not said anything about me staying off of my feet. For god’s sake, I’m only two and half months along!”

He sighed, knowing she was a little right but not wanting to admit it. He was worried about her; this was his first child. “Amelia, could you just please follow my orders and stay home more?”

“No,” she said, pulling herself out of his grasp, “I am no longer just your subordinate, Owen. You asked me to marry you, I am pregnant with your child!” He frowned at her as he truly began to feel the shame of the way he acted. “You cannot just give me orders, like an intern, and expect me to follow you like we’re living in the 1950’s!” He folded his arms and averted his eyes to the floor, clenching his jaw. She was right, and he knew it, and he’d already done the damage. “You undermined me and embarrassed me today, in front of my subordinates. You made it seem like I was handicapped!”

“Amelia…”

“Can I start parking in the cripple spot too?” she vulgarly asked, pointing in the general direction of the car park. Owen pinched the bridge of his nose, not knowing what else to say. Amelia walked towards him, intending to walk past him, but not before saying, “This is getting ridiculous now, Owen. Last week, you were sending interns, with keto meals, to take my vitals every six hours. This week, you’re running my department for me.” He felt terrible because he knew now; he was overdoing it. He had been stifling her this entire time, and he thought he was being caring, and truthfully he couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Cristina felt too; if that was why she truly left. “It’s either you give up being chief, or…” She frowned; she couldn’t say the words. She just fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger, wondering if she had really thought this marriage thing through with him. “I can’t do this anymore; something has to give.” And with that, she left.

That fight had been just a few days ago, so it was still fresh in their minds as they sat in the bathtub together. Amelia had not broken up with him, but she had stopped wearing the engagement ring, so he didn’t know where they stood. Quite frankly, he was surprised that she’d even invited him in the tub with her. Everything was all so confusing these days, and he hoped it was just the hormones, and not them falling apart.

“This is not the chief speaking to you,” he laughed uncomfortably, deep in thought now. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about some stuff…” He didn’t know where to start, but thankfully she did.

“I have too,” she affirmed, “I’m sorry for making you feel like you have to choose between your job and me. It’s just that the micromanaging…”

“Amelia, I get it,” he cut her off, cupping his hands around her stomach. She looked up at him, the curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “I’ve been entirely too pushy with you, as of recently.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Go on…”

He smiled as he looked down at her, already sensing that she would forgive him. “I think I got caught up worrying about all the ways you could get hurt.” He shifted uncomfortably as he looked around, adding, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad, it’s been my dream since…I don’t know. But I’ve never been through a pregnancy before, and honestly, it’s scary.” She watched him with concern, sensing that he was being vulnerable. “All the baby articles online, all the medical knowledge, it’s always racing through my mind when I see you.” He furrowed his brows and frowned, and Amelia could feel his pulse quickening, his heart thumping against her back. “I know you’ve been through the baby thing already, but this is my first child, Amelia. And I…”  He looked back at her again, his gaze a mixture of worry, fear, and love. “I want her to be perfect, and happy and healthy, and I don’t want to have to worry about if you are standing too long, or not eating enough, and if it will hurt her. Or hurt you.” He squeezed his arms around her stomach a little tighter. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, more than anything.”

“Owen I’m not going to hurt myself,” she giggled, softened by his caring words. Initially, she felt like he was being a control freak, but now she was hearing otherwise; he was just experiencing anxiety. “You can be a caring father, and not control my every move, at the same time.”

“That sounds more like an oxymoron,” Owen grumbled unenthusiastically. Amelia sat up in the tub, and Owen followed, his hands holding either sides of her waist as he helped her up and out of the water to get to her towel. “How am I supposed to do that?” He got out of the tub and wrapped his towel around his waist before joining Amelia by the mirror sink, standing behind her. She had already begun combing her hair and appeared to be purposely ignoring Owen.

“You can start by answering this question,” Amelia quipped, twisting, and pointing the comb at him behind her as she put on a gameshow voice, “What colour do you think our baby’s hair will be?”

Owen raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Amelia, what does this have to do with anything?”

“Just answer,” she prompted him, shaking the comb in front of his face like a mic.

Owen smirked as he looked at her in the mirror; she was entirely too playfully attractive for him not to entertain this little game. “Okay. Red.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned.

“I think so too,” she agreed. She faced the mirror again and leaned into his chest, a dreamy look on her face as she slowly twirled a strand of her wet hair around her fingers. “I think it’ll be a girl.”

“I hope it is,” Owen sighed peacefully, wrapping his arms around her waist as he lightly rested his chin on the top of her head, “And I hope her eyes are blue like yours.”

“With rosy skin,” she added to the imagination.

“Rosy,” Owen repeated, liking the way it sounded in his voice, “Let’s call her that.”

With an amused grin on her face, she said, “We don’t know if it’s a girl.”

“It’s definitely a girl,” Owen feigned ignorantly, making Amelia giggle again, “I can feel it right here.” He softly poked a finger in her side, knowing she would jump.

“Don’t tickle me!” she exclaimed, shying away from his steady grip on her waist. He smiled as he watched her in the mirror, knowing in his heart that it would be a girl. It had to be.

“Rosalie,” Amelia whispered once they settled into each other’s embrace, “Rosie, for short.”

“I love it,” Owen grinned even wider. He looked down at her, turning her in his arms as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

She smiled up at him, returning the kiss, but on his mouth. “How could you not?” And she was right. It was impossible not to love her, which was the reminder he needed to finally make his mind up.

“I’m thinking of giving up being the chief,” he said against her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Taken aback, Amelia pulled away from him to look at him. “Really?” He nodded; his eyes hooded with love. “Just like that?”

“You said it yourself,” he whispered, “How could I not love you?”

She smiled with a questioning look. “Are you sure?”

“I want to be around more,” he explained, “I don’t want to miss out on our baby’s life because I’m sorting through paperwork and yelling at doctors.” He looked her up and down, truly looked at her. “I want to take care of you, and not in the chief-y way.”

“Well, you’ve convinced me,” she relented, grinning at him, “but I think you’ll miss the job.”

“Are you crazy? I hate paperwork,” he dramatically exclaimed, filling her neck with kisses, “And I hate dealing with doctors’ problems.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, you seemed to enjoy it,” she played along, “Bossing people around, telling them where to stick their budgets. It was kinda hot.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, and she nodded playfully, stealing a quick kiss from him. “Well, as your boss, I order you to take off your towel.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else,” he began, turning her around while he unraveled her from the towel, “you will be punished.” He faced her back towards him, his hand making its way to her rear and spanking her once. He was delighted to hear her gasp of surprise, and more so when he saw the shocked expression, she gave him in the mirror.

“You see, this is how we got here in the first place,” she reminded him, laughing.

“The spanking, or the sex?” he sought to confirm, dotting the back of her neck with kisses.

“Both,” she giggled.

[beanzykin]

Evan Morgan Reznick

A Breznick fanfiction

Summary: Breznick soulmate AU

"Have any of your soulmate initials switched?" Claire asked, filling the silence in the locker room with a question she's been wanting to ask forever. "Mm… no. They've been L.D ever since I was twelve," Shaun carefully placed his toy scalpel in his bag while Morgan opened her locker. "Nope," Alex turned around, "M.W, always. Why has yours recently changed?" 

"Yeah- well… not recently, more like when I was fourteen. But, one of the letters is still crossed out," She placed a hand on her right thigh where her soulmate's initials are. "I've never really told anyone, but I haven't seen anyone else's initials crossed out…" She trailed off, allowing the other three doctor's fill in the blanks that it was something she didn't talk much about. "That's weird," Alex gave Morgan a look only for her to ignore it by taking a sip from the day-old water in her bottle.

Claire scoffed, "They used to be C-E.R, but now the 'E' is crossed out and replaced with an 'M'-" Before Claire got a chance to continue, Morgan spit out her water and fell into a fit of non-stop coughing which caught everyone's attention.

Cristina-Morgan, Reznick. 

Caroline thought it'd be a good idea to give her child a longer name, that way her art signature would be more unique… Now looking back at it, it was a stupid desicion consitering Morgan hates art.

Despite choking on water -and the initial shock of the situation- Morgan managed to choke out some sorta sentence reassuring her sudden outburst.

"Those are my initials-" Alex froze on his way to help the blonde that was practically suffocating. 

A few more seconds of Morgan choking to death, Claire broke the thick tension that filled the previously dead silent room.

"What…?" Morgan took another sip after (and to help) her body calmed down. “Wait… you don’t have mine… right?” Claire felt her heart speed up when whipped her mouth and nodded her head.

"Alright, me and Shaun will see you two tomorrow…" Alex tapped Shaun's bag to catch his attention, leaving the two women to sort out their predicament. He didn't want to make the situation worse or more awkward, not that he was sure they were soulmates, or what the crossed out 'E' meant; but he didn't want to make either of them uncomfortable.

"Are you-… you're sure about this?" Claire asked as Shaun and Alex left the room. Morgan felt her eyes burn at the contact with Claire's "Well, I suspected it once I had your initials, but you're straight and never said anything…"

"Well I never said anything because your name starts with a 'C' and has an 'E' in the middle of it!" Claire's confusion brought her to her next question.

"Why is there an 'E'?" Morgan looked down at her shoe, avoiding the question and filing with her water bottle. "The 'E' is crossed out, what does it stand for?" She asked again, getting impatient with the situation. "It doesn't matter-" Claire interrupted her. "Well it kinda does, how do I know if you're actually my soulmate?!" 

Morgan looked back up, "I have C.B on my collar bone and you have my initials on your leg, right? Why does it matter?" 

"Cause I don't know if you're lying about being my soulmate or not!" Claire bitterly laughed at the end, clearly getting more pressed by the second. "So what if I'm not? What's so disappointing about that?! I'm lying, I'm not your soulmate. Just go find him!"  

The smaller doctor sighed, "We'll what if you are?! And you're actually lying to me! You obviously know why there was or still is an 'E', just tell me already!"

"Because I'm trans!" Morgan confessed, albeit a bit louder than she should. “See, that's all you had to do? Was that so Goddamn hard!?" Her tone was now mirroring Morgan's.

"YES! Yes, it was! And you don't fucking understand that!" She put her back to the locker and slid down shakily, her head making its way to her hands.

"Are you crying, is that how shitty of a soulmate I am?" For a split second, Morgan wanted to say yes -Even if she didn’t exactly mean it-, but her body felt like it was choking on that gross luke-warm water again and she couldn’t breathe.

It took Claire to realize that not everyone is as accepting of who their soulmate might be. She could only imagine that Morgan thought her soulmate would be immensely disappointed. Especially now -that Morgan has learnt she is her soulmate- since Morgan's only ever heard about Claire's past boyfriends, and on top of that, she's trans.

Her mind went back to what Morgan was previously hinting at:

'I'm not your soulmate, just go find him!'

'But you're straight…'

"Morgan, you are a wonderful woman," Claire slowly sat down next to her, "And you've only ever heard me talk about my soulmate being a man… right?" Morgan's hair and hands hid her face, but Claire could tell she nodded. "I've had girlfriends before, and I don't care if you're trans or not."

Claire hesitantly moved a little closer. "It's not that- well, kinda… I know you wouldn't care if I was transgender or not, but I didn't know you liked women. It's just that I have my deadname on your leg," Morgan sniffed and rubbed her eyes before looking at Claire and continuing, "My name's Morgan, and it should've been like that from the start… no? Like, does this mean I'll never actually pass with whatever universe-god-thing that created soulmates,"

It pained Claire's heart to hear her voice get shakier with each word. Locking eyes with Morgan's pink, tear-filled ones, she lightly put her hand on Morgan's cheek. 

This time, she felt a different feeling in her heart when Morgan closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, allowing the tears to finally fall.

Morgan softly smiled and grabbed Claire's wrist, bringing it down to her knees and crawling it with her other one. Without breaking eye contact, Claire moved her thumb to delicately caress Morgans.

"I want you to believe me when I say I'm not disappointed, Morgan," The smaller doctor felt Morgan play with her fingers and smiled. "I do… and I want you to too. There has been so many times where I actually hoped you were- will be," she corrected herself briefly, "-my soulmate. When I first met you I genuinely thought that that was it. That I had won the most beautiful woman in the world," 

Now it was Claire's turn to cry. She's never seen this side of Morgan before, has never been told something that sweet and genuine before either. And it was ultimately the best words she's ever heard in her entire life, it's just an added bonus that they're coming from Morgan Reznick.

Without a second thought, Claire pulled Morgan in and did something she never even thought of doing before.

It's just that her mind was screaming 'Kiss her. She's so soft and cute and she's actually one of the sweetest people you've ever met! Her lips look as soft as her hair, if not, even softer!' And that's all it took.

Morgan let out a small squeak of surprise and froze for a moment before kissing back. Claire felt her hand drop and then another smoothing out her jawline and sighed into the kiss.

She couldn't tell if it was Morgan or if it was just the first time kissing her soulmate, but it felt so perfect. 

Once they pulled apart and caught their breath, Morgan was the first one to talk. "You felt that too, right?" Claire couldn't help but smile wider, knowing exactly what she meant. "Yeah," She breathed out in awe. 

The two of them giggled before leaning in for another small peck. Morgan let her hand fall from the side of Claire's face, the way it trailed down her neck gave the small brunette goosebumps.

"Guess we'll have to know each other better bow, huh?" Claire bit her lip to keep her from smiling so much but to avail.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter seven

i actually hate this, so ew. but i’ve forgotten that i write, so i’ll try to type some stuff up tomorrow! regardless, i hope everyone enjoys! click here to read on ao3. 

TW// domestic abuse

~*~

"small town boy in a big arcade. i got addicted to a losing game."

~*~

alexandra: you do realize how crazy that sounds right?

joseph: it's not crazy at all if you ask me.

alexandra: jo, asking for lollipops for your christmas present sounds very crazy to me.

and christmas isn't for like, a while.

joseph: dude, christmas is in two weeks and one day

and plus, i'm settling on lollipops. what i really want is a pony, a shiny, pretty one with rainbow hair, you know those? that's my dream right there

alexandra: oh crap really?

yeah yeah, ha ha. laughing so much right now.

joseph: hate to break it to you, but it's the 10th alex.

and i know, what a shame i wont be able to have my pony. it was at the top of my list this year

next to an ice cream sundae the size of manhattan, obviously.

alexandra: very funny. can't you tell how much i'm laughing.

crap, got to go, robbins is letting me in on an esophageal atresia on a newborn. i'm her favorite you know.

joseph: ugh, lucky.

make sure to kick ass and not kill anyone. that would suck. 

actually... your big head could use some ego deflating. make sure robbins has to save you halfway through. maybe then you'll earn some humility.  

alexandra: wow, you're such great help. so nice too.

joseph: you know it ;)

she turns off her phone, a small smile on her face as she looks out the window, passing by houses that all looked exactly alike; white exteriors with a bright green lawn. the only thing that could help someone tell them apart was the door colors. her and paul had just come back from a dinner with some of his coworkers, but he wasn't talking to her so she decided to text alex. the silence in the car was tense, though she was unable to grasp the reason why.

they'd been texting non-stop since the conference three weeks ago, talking about each other's days, complaining about annoying coworkers and classmates. they really enjoyed having a friend they could just talk to because they felt like it. it was refreshing. they'd never had anyone like that before. in the past they had friends that they felt comfortable around, but it was different when you had someone who understood you so well. not to mention, being able to make self deprecating jokes about their crappy childhoods and receive a laugh in response was so much nicer than the pity stares they were both so used to getting,

she snaps back to reality at the sound of the engine turning off, cutting the music as the expensive car door opens. she sees paul angrily walk out of the car, slamming the door behind him, not stopping by her side of the car to open the door for her like he normally did. (she was actually thankful for that. she was a grown women, she could open a damn door herself)

weird, she thinks, but decides not to question it. her husband had been a bit more moody and temperamental lately, so she supposed it was just that. but the dinner seemed to go really good in her opinion. she got along with his colleagues and paul certainly enjoyed himself, getting to be around all his coworkers and interact freely. she liked to think that his colleagues liked her as well. they complimented her all evening and included her in all of their conversations. though, she did wish that they would've referred to her by her name more, rather than 'mrs. stalder' or 'paul's wife.'

she gets out of the passenger side and shuts the door behind her, walking up to the steps after she hears that paul had locked the car. she places the small clutch she had on the entry table and walks to the kitchen, seeing paul sitting at the kitchen island, nothing in front of him except tea that he had heated up in the minute or so he'e been in there. she kisses his cheek and starts talking, knowing that it would probably help calm whatever he was feeling.

she gives him a smile, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "it seemed like the dinner went really well, all of your coworkers are super nice and-"

"you talked to steven too much." he cuts her off, sending an icy glare her way, and look she had never seen on him before shining darkly in his eyes.

she cocks her head to the side, "huh?"

he stands up from his place abruptly, making her jump back slightly. "i said," he spits out, eyes narrowing as he stares her down "you talked to steven too much."

she lets out a loud laugh, thinking that he was just joking around and messing with her. at any second he was going to join her giggling, ignoring the way his eyes had only seemed to darken the second the sounds had escaped her mouth."oh, that's funny." she says in between laughs, eyes shining with childish glee. "jesus you really scared m-"

pain.

her words get cut off by a fist coming directly into contact with her face. she feels the stinging sensation burn from her eye to her cheek, her brown eyes watering with tears as she realizes what had just happened. she lifts a palm up to touch it protectively, almost making it seem like it was more real if she touched it.

oh god, it hurt. it hurt like hell. his gold wedding band adding to the impact was sure to leave a scar by the corner of her eye. she'd been punched before, multiple times actually by foster parents and girls while she was in high school, but this hurt so much more. it was so much harder than she'd ever been hit before.

her husband just hit her.

"oh brooke, baby." paul says, taking her into his arms and brushing her hair back immediately, trying to get her to relax into his embrace. "i just got so mad. you just made me so mad brooke. you can't make me mad like that" he tells her, eyes dripping with some kind of emotion she can't place as he places light kisses on top of her sea of brown curls, ignoring the way the way she stood stiffly in his arms, a few lone tears making it's way down her cheeks.  

"i love you. you know that brooke" he whispers, wiping the tears from her face, his hands feeling usually rough against her skin, his touch not easing over the bruise that hard already begun to form.

she nods. it was okay. he loved her. he didn't mean it. he just got angry. it was okay. it was fine. he loved her, it was okay.

she thought she probably deserved it. after all she'd cheated on her husband just three weeks before, and had continued to keep in contact with the man she had cheated with. it was only karma.  

"i'm sorry paul." she apologizes sincerely as he cups her face in his hands, giving her a sweet smile. it wasn't his fault. it was hers.  

"it just better not happen again." he states, eyes burning into hers intently, his grip on her face tightening without her even realizing it. all she really felt was numb, as if all of her senses had seemingly shut down to avoid dealing with the pain that was spreading throughout the side of her face.

she nods her head up and down as she pulls her back into him. "i'm sorry" she whispers into his chest.

he smiled.

and that's when he knew he had her.

____

alex finished scrubbing out of a surgery, shaking off the excess water on his hands, grinning internally. it was always so much better when he was able to help save a kid. the success was just that much more fulfilling. he's about to push the door open when it swings in itself, making him come face to face with cristina, the expression she was wearing was more worried looking than he'd seen in a long time. he'd known yang for a while know, and he knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth would be bad. cristina yang was never worried.

"what do you want yang?" he asks, noting how she had her hands crossed over her chest and was avoiding his gaze.

"there's a merger happening." she says, looking up to meet his eyes to let him know that she was serious.

his narrows his eyes, scrunching up his nose. "what?" he questions. a merger? as in, combing two hospitals into one?  

"you just missed the announcement. apparently we're merging with mercy west." the raven head repeats, a slight trace of fear in her voice, a very unusual thing for cristina yang.

he lets out a deep breath, tugging his scrub cap off and running a hand through his hair as he leans over the scrub sink, gripping it so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white. "i can't loose this job yang." he says to her softly, making her nod in agreement.

"you and me both." with that she walks out of the room, alex not far behind her, both of the surgeons heading up to the resident's lounge to change, which was filled to the brim with chatter, all of the doctors talking about the newest topic, the merger.

meredith sits down next to him, slipping a long sleeved purple shirt over her head when she casts a glance to alex, who was sitting still looking down at his phone's empty screen, seemingly deep in thought, almost as if he was waiting for something to magically appear on it.

the blonde nudges him, snapping him out of his trance. alex sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "what am i gonna do about iz?" he asks her, judging by her face that she was drawing a blank, much like him.

jesus, this was great. these past few weeks he had hardy been able to look his wife in the eye, because every time he saw her he was reminded that he slept with someone else. not to mention, he was just texting that certain someone just a few hours ago. he was really screwed. izzie had currently been home on bedrest, not being allowed to return to work until two weeks from now, which apparently would also be when the mercy westers would turn up. fucking great. he felt as if the universe was rallying against him at this point, no matter how much he knew that wasn't possible. he dug his own grave, it was just a matter of time before he would need to lay in it.

"she'll be okay." meredith reassures him, but he can tell by the look on her face that she was unsure as well. who knew would end up getting cut? they would need to pull their heads out of their asses and prove that they deserved to stay. none of them could lose their spot. not only because of their job, but also because of the people there. they were a family. they couldn't lose any more of their family. they'd just lost george, and they couldn't lose another.

"evil spawn, put on a shirt!" cristina yells, balling up a shirt from his locker and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the chest as he glares at her. he pulls on the shirt silently and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye to anybody as he leaves the lounge and heads straight to joe's across the street.

he slides onto a barstool, ordering a beer and thanking the bartender with a slight nod of his head. how was he supposed to tell izzie about the merger? he knew that if his wife knew, she would want to return to work immediately, but he knew she couldn't do that. she was still getting her strength back, and standing around on her feet all day surely would delay the healing process. he couldn't risk her getting hurt because he wasn't able to stop her.

he'd done enough recently, even if izzie didn't know about most of it. the last thing he needed was to cause his wife more harm than he already had.

he was going to tell her, he knew that, just not right now. right now he was going to sit on this uncomfortable wooden bar stool and drink his beer and forget he had any problems. he was going to forget about the merger, he was going to forget about him and izzie going at it twenty-four seven, and he was definitely going to forget about the brunette with a fake name who seemed to be on his mind all the time.

he was just going to forget everything, his only focus being his beer and the football game on the small television above the bar. yeah, that sounded like a good idea. a really good idea.

____

okay, so he forgot about two out of those three things.

he was actually doing pretty good for a while, almost a full hour with nearly a beer and a half finished. all he had been focused on was the seahawks playing against the steelers, with the steelers crushing the seattle team thirty-four to seven. not much of a surprise though, he couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed the seahawks win. it wasn't that they were a completely crap team, it was simply the fact that one; the steelers were much better this year, and two; he hardly ever got enough time to sit down and watch a game. being a resident drained the life out of him, especially since he had finally knew that he wanted to specialize in peds. when he wasn't at the hospital he was reading up new medical procedures in magazines, or occasionally sneaking over to meredith's to watch old ellis grey tapes.  

he was doing really... until he got a text message from jo.

joseph: how was your surgery?

alexandra: wow, you must be bored.

joseph: ...

what makes you say that?

alexandra: really?

joseph: i'm in med school, thank you very much. i have a severe interest in your surgeries. 

alexandra: mhm, sure.

joseph: fine, i'm bored. entertain me. please.

alexandra: that sounds vaguely dirty.

joseph: oh great. how drunk are you?

alexandra: what makes you say that?

haha, two can play that game.

joseph: i'm guessing two beers in?

alexandra: shut up, only one and a half.

joseph: mhm, wasn't too far off

but seriously. i'm bored and am in need of anything remotely interesting. you just scrubbed in on a super cool surgery, i want details

alexandra: fine, baby maria duboir, two weeks old, robbins let me lead the procedure about half way through, coded once, we then shocked her at 150, and now she is stable and in the NICU.

happy?

joseph: yes. very much so

although i do think your OR stories need work

you sound like you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about

alexandra

wow. you're a real delight you know that?

joseph: oh, believe me, i know. don't even get me started on how many times people have complimented how freaking amazing i am

it's quite a common occurrence.  

if i had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, i'd be living on my own private island

alexandra: i bet you would.

seriously though, tell me something. i've got nothing better to do than watch the seahawks get crushed.

joseph: i'm guessing that's sports talk, so i'm just gonna ignore that, since it hate any sport where men look like giant block of cheese, run around a court, or just run in general.

but today's been boring. went to a dinner tonight. fancy stuck-up rich people who laugh with posh accents and sip their champagne way too slowly

fucking turtles.

alexandra: sounds fun.

joseph: you suck. i can literally hear the sarcasm through the phone asshole

alexandra: that's the point. i'll take a sick kid over fancy dinner any day.

crap, that sounded really horrible didn't it?

joseph: it really did

"i'll take a sick kid over a fancy dinner any day" real charming if you ask me. night in shining amour.

alexandra

yeah yeah you know what i mean.

____

they're not sure how long they end up talking for, alex siting at joe's bar and jo lounging on the couch in her living room while her husband was in his study going over and grading tests for one of his classes. before either one of them even know it, it gets to be twelve thirty boston time and nine thirty in seattle. alex's texts had gotten much harder to read, which made sense, considering he was now on his third beer.

jo teased him about it though, finding it more enjoyable than she would've guessed to text a drunk alex than a sober one. he seemed to get increasingly flirtier the tipsier he got. not to mention, all the spelling mistakes he made was definitely one for the books. she had a feeling that it was getting a but harder for him to see which letters where which, considering a few b's were located where there should be d's, and 'm' where they should be an 'n'

alex knows for a fact he's earning many stares from fellow people at the bar because of how much he's laughing (loudly too), but he doesn't really care. if he's gonna laugh, he's gonna laugh. all he could really focus on was the fluorescent lights hanging from the bar's wood ceiling and the frankly hilarious texts coming through his phone. (okay, so they weren't that funny, but everything is always a lot more funny when you're drunk)

jo was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing more and more as she sank into the couch, completely forgetting about the bruise on her left cheek as she typed away, grinning from ear to ear when the man on the other side responded, words misspelt and random numbers and semicolons popping up from time to time.

they knew that what they had done was wrong. they knew that what they were doing was wrong. but they couldn't stop.

if only they had stopped sooner.

[nothesc]

The truth. A Damira fic.

Amira’s and Dani’s parents find out the truth abotu their relationship.

You can also read it on ao3

Thanks for reading!!

-------

Going grocery shopping is one of Amira’s favorite things because it means spending more time with her mom and lately with exams and work they haven’t been able to spend time together. That’s why, on Wednesday afternoon when Amira’s mom asks her to go grocery shopping with her Amira goes without hesitation. The truth is Amira’s been thinking about talking to her mom for a while now. She wants to talk to her about what’s going on and, above all, talk to her about Dani. She hasn’t told her parents that she’s dating Dani and she’s not sure how to do it but she could use her mom’s advice.

On their way home from the shops Amira is considering starting that conversation but they’re interrupted by two neighbors Amira was not expecting to see.

“Hey, long time not seen!”

Amira hopes Dani’s mom can’t see the fear on her face. Or at least, she hopes she’s not as obvious as Dani who’s looking like he’s about to have a panic attack right now.

“Fariha, it’s been a while. You too Amira, you haven’t come visit in such a long time” Dani’s mom says unaware of the fact that her son and Amira are panicking.

“Uhm…yes, I’ve been very busy with exams” Amira can’t even look at her face right now.

“Lately when she’s not with her friends, she’s at home studying. I’ve been very lucky to get her to come with me today” Amira’s mom tells her neighbor.

“Well, I wish Cristina was like that because I can’t deal with her anymore, she says she’s studying but I can assure you she isn’t, she’s on her phone all the time. And this one?” she says pointing at her son “He’s the same, he only cares about rugby, rugby and rugby. Well, at least that’s what he says because I know it’s not only that. I’m sure he has a girlfriend or something, I’m sure of that. He always comes home with a silly smile on his face. And he expects me to believe he’s smiling because of rugby, sure.”

“Mom, please” Dani says embarrassed.

Amira can’t help smiling, she likes the thought of her being the reason for Dani’s happiness.

“What? I’m only telling the truth, these past few weeks you’ve been very happy all the time. And I’m not complaining, it’s better than Cristina being angry all the time. Seriously, what a complicated daughter I have”

“Don’t be that harsh on her, it’s a tough year. She has a lot on her plate with school.” Amira’s mom tries to defend Cris.

“Yeah well, but I’m sure Amira still gets good grades, Cristina’s are a mess.

“Come on mom, leave it already. We should go, Cris is waiting for us at home.” Dani says trying to get the conversation to end before her mom can say something else.”

“Daniel, god, let me be. We haven’t seen Fariha and Amira in a while. Anyway, Amira” Dani’s mom says ignoring her son. “Come visit us this week, you can stay for lunch after high school or something.”

“Mom, it’s Ramadan, they’re fasting.” Dani mumbles dying from embarrassment.

“Ohhh, of course, of course, I’m sorry I don’t know what I was thinking” Dani’s mom apologizes.

“It’s alright” Amira says while her mom smiles.

“Well, this one here” Dani’s mom says pointing at her son once again. “it’s like he’s in one of those Ramadan things too, lately he’s not eating at all, he only eats at night, during the day he’s always telling me that he’ll eat later or something. See, another sign that he’s in love.”

“Mom!” Dani almost yells in panic. “Let’s go, please”

Dani doesn’t dare to look at Amira or her mom, he only wants to go home.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go. Anyway Amira, you can still come home one of these days even with that fasting thing and all.”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll talk to Cris” Amira says knowing that there’s no way Cris is going to invite her to her house.

“Come on, let’s go” Dani tells his mom who follows him when she sees him leaving already.

After saying goodbye, mother and son, and mother and daughter, part ways. They’ve only taken a couple of steps when Dani turns to look at Amira, who’s also looking at him. They both smile shyly, knowing that they’re going to see each other tomorrow.

Carrying two bags each, Amira and her mom enter the house after the encounter with their neighbors. Amira follows Fariha to the kitchen and watches her mom leaving the bags on the counter.

“So, Dani’s mom doesn’t know you two are dating?”

Amira lets the bags go and they crash on the floor.

“Amira! The eggs!” Her mom exclaims kneeling to the ground to check that the eggs didn’t break.

“What did you just say? I mean…what? Dani and I…we’re…” Amira doesn’t know what to say and she can barely get a few words out.

“Amira, love, I’m your mom. You can’t lie to me. Dani is not the only one that’s been happier than usual lately.” After checking that the eggs are still intact, Amira’s mom grabs the bags and sets them next to the others.

“Mama, I didn’t want to lie to you, really. I was just… waiting for the right moment to tell you that…”

“That you have a boyfriend?” Amira’s mom finishes the sentence for her.

“I know what you’re going to say, that I’m crazy, that it’s not going to work, that we can’t be together, that I’ll have to sacrifice things and so will Dani, that we’re going to get overwhelmed…”

“Amira, Amira, love, let me talk” her mom interrupts her “Come here”

Amira follows her mom to the living room where they both sit on the sofa like they did a couple of weeks ago.

“Look, Amira, I’m not going to lie to you…It’s not going to be easy because you come from different worlds and you’ll have to adapt to each other and that’s going to be hard.

“I know…” Amira says with a sigh “I know”

“But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.” Amira’s mom assures her taking her hand. “If you’re sure about what you want and what you feel…and you’re honest with him…”

“Yes I…well, I made a list with what I needed from our relationship”

“A list? What am I not surprised?” her mom says laughing, she’s always known that her daughter knows what she wants.

“Yes…” Amira smiles “And I told him what I needed and my limits and he…well, he accepted it, no hesitation. And I don’t know mama…when I’m with Dani I’m…”

“Happy?” her mom asks her, squeezing her hand.

“Yes, I am.” Amira answers honestly.

“That’s all I need to know Amira. That you’re happy. And I want you to know that, whatever you do, I won’t judge you, it’s your life, and you won’t disappoint me. But…don’t disappoint yourself”

“About that…” Amira doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, how to explain what’s going through her mind right now.

“What’s the matter?” Again, she squeezes her daughter’s hand to assure her that it’s alright.

“Well…I know the theory…but the practice…it’s hard. When I’m with Dani I want to hug him and I want to kiss him but I stop before that happens and then I feel bad for even thinking about it”

“Ah, Amira” her mom sighs smiling “Love, it’s okay to doubt. You’re young, you’re in love, I would be worried if you didn’t want to kiss Dani. Of course you want, and that doesn’t make you worse, it makes you human. What matters is what you do with those doubts, how you overcome them”

“Yeah?”

“All I can say is that, if you ever feel confused just stop and think, and pray, I’m sure Allah will show you the way”

“Thanks, mama” Amira says hugging her mother.

“Alright and now, tell me, is Dani nice to you?”

“Yes, he’s great.” Amira says, still hugging her mom, who’s caressing her back “He has a way of always make me laugh and feel better when I’m down, he surprises me, on Monday he prepared an Iftar for the two of us, we watched the sunset together and…I don’t know I love spending time with him”

“I’m happy to hear that. Dani’s always been a good boy.” Amira’s mom makes a pause before asking what she’s been meaning to ask since they ran into Dani and his mom “And Dani…is he…fasting?”

“Yeah…” Amira looks up at her mom before continuing. “He’s been fasting for a few days now but…it’s not for me. I haven’t asked him to. It was his decision. He says he’s been researching and watching videos and that he doesn’t know how to explain it but that something inside him told him that it was the right thing to do. I don’t know, I don’t want to get my hopes up but…”

“It’s a start” her mom finishes.

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m so sorry about my mom, she was super annoying” it’s the first thing Dani says the next day when Amira arrives to the park.

“It’s alright, I actually liked knowing that you’re happier lately”

“Of course I’m happier, Ami” Dani says smiling at her “You’re also the highlight of  my week”

“Well…the highlight of your week has something to tell you” Amira bites her lower lip, half happy about what Dani just said and half worried about what she has to say.

“What happened?” Dani asks frowning.

“Well, yesterday after running into you and your mom I talked to mine and she told me she knew about us”

“Oh…and she’s angry about it, right?” Dani says worried, he’s always had a great relationship with Amira’s parents but he’s not sure if they’ll accept him as their daughter’s boyfriend.

“Well…” Amira makes a dramatic pause but when she notices Dani’s worried expression she decides not to make him suffer anymore and starts laughing “No, she wasn’t angry at all”

“Ami, you scared me!” Dani sighs in relief

“She told me that…that she wanted me to be happy and that it is my life and she will accept whatever I decide”

Dani smiles, his eyes on hers, it’s the best news he could be receiving, but Amira’s not finished talking.

“And she said something else…She wants you to come for Iftar tomorrow”

“Okay…”

“But I understand if you don’t want to come, if it’s awkward or if you think it’s too soon or you just don’t feel like coming or…”

“Ami, Ami, Ami” Dani interrupts her “I said okay. Of course I want to go”

“Really?” Ami asks to be sure.

“Of course”

Dani looks at his watch, in 20 minutes he has to be at Amira’s. He checks his shirt, it’s clean after all the cooking. He’s always been a good cook but he’s never make briwats before so he just hopes that they’re edible. The sound of the front door closing startles him. A few seconds later his mom and his sister enter the kitchen and stand by the door looking at him confused.

“What are you doing?” his mom asks

“Are you wearing a shirt?” his sister adds.

“I cooked something, I’ve been invited for dinner and I didn’t want to go empty handed.” Dani explains trying to keep his mom from seeing what he’s made.

“You could’ve told me, son, and I would’ve made you a tortilla or something. What did you make?”

Dani’s mom tries to walk by Dani to see what’s on the plate but Dani stops her. However he forgets about Cris who takes the plate from behind him.

“Is this…?” Cris starts studying the food to be sure – You’re going to Amira’s right?

The moment Cris mentions Amira’s name, chaos starts. Dani panics and gets mad at his sister at the same time. The kids’ mom frowns, not understanding what’s going on. And Cris, she closes her eyes when she realizes her mistake, she didn’t mean to say that.

“To Amira’s?” their mom asks. She turns to Cris and adds: “Are you going too?”

“No…I’m not” is all Cris says.

“What’s going on here? Why are you going to Amira’s alone?” their mom wants to know.

“Thank you, Cris” Dani sighs. “Look mom, I’m going to Amira’s because we’re dating.”

“Dating? Amira and you?” his mom can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Yes, Amira and me, so what?”

“But Dani, Amira is…”

“Amira is what? Muslim?” Dani asks defensively “Yes, she is. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Daniel you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Amira is a good girl but she’s going to ask you to do things that…” Dani’s mom stops when she remembers something. “That’s why you’re not eating, you’re doing that fasting thing, right?”

Dani shakes his head in disbelief, the last thing he wants right now is having to explain himself, but there’s no other choice.

“Yes, I’m fasting”

“What?!” Now Cris is the one that speaks up, widening her eyes in surprise.

“They’ve already messed with your head, oh god”

“No one’s messed with my head, mom. And you know what? Amira is much more tolerant and a much better person than you are”

“Daniel, don’t talk to me like that, that girl is changing you, she’s not right for you”

“Look, I’m going to go to Amira’s, because she’s my girlfriend, and that’s not going to change” Dani looks from his mom to his sister “and I don’t care if someone has a problem with that.”

Not waiting for an answer, Dani takes the plate from Cris’ hands and leaves the house. He hears Cris calling after him. She reaches him and stops him, but she doesn’t say anything until Dani tries to leave again.

“Wait, please” Cris says standing in front of him “Are you really fasting?”

“Yes, Cris, I am.”

“But…did Amira ask you to do that?”

“No! She didn’t. I decided that, on my own…I’ve been…researching and I don’t know it just…feels right, okay?”

“Okay, okay, chill, I’m not going to judge you” Cris says trying to get her brother to calm down.

“Cris, are you happy with Joana?” Dani asks suddenly.

“Of course” Cris answers, no hesitation.

“Even though it’s complicated?”

“Yes.”

“Because when you love someone, everything is worth it, right? That’s how I feel with Amira, Cris. I don’t care if it’s complicated, I want to be with her.”

“I’m sorry…” Cris says honestly. “I’m sorry I was a brat to you, really. Dani I…if you want to be together…I’ll support you, alright? And don’t worry about mom, she’ll come around.”

All Dani can do is nod, still processing what just happened with his mom and now with his sister.

“Are you scared about dining with the in laws?” Cris asks him to release some tension.

“To death, man” Dani chuckles.

“It’ll be alright, Ami’s parents love you”

“I really hope so, I need this to work.”

“It will.”

Dani wipes the sweat of his hands on his jeans before knocking on the door. He’s nervous, after what happened at his house and about not knowing what’s going to happen at Amira’s. The door opens a few seconds later and the moment he looks at her, Dani forgets all his fears and all he can do is smile at his girlfriend.

“Are you wearing a shirt?” is the first thing Amira says smiling

“Is it really that weird?” Dani laughs

“A little, yeah. But I like it. You look really handsome”

“And you’re so beautiful”

“Come on in” Amira says stepping to the side so he can enter the house. “What’s that?”

“Well…” Dani uncovers the plate to show Amira his work of art.

“Briwats? Where did you get them?”

“I made them, actually” Dani says smiling shyly

“For real? You? And what did your mom say when she saw you?”

“I’ll tell you later…” Dani is not ready to relive the situation again and doesn’t want to ruin the night.

“Hey, but are you okay?” Amira asks worried.

“I am now” Dani smiles and Amira smiles back at him until they’re interrupted by her mom.

“Hello Dani, come in, are those briwats?”

“He made them” Amira adds proudly

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s the first time I cook this, I really hope they’re good…I just know that it’s something you usually eat and…yeah…” Dani says scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I’m sure they’re great” Amira’s mom says taking the plate from his hands and entering the living room to show them to her husband. “Mustafá look what Dani made”

Amira and Dani follow her to the living room and watch Amira’s dad getting up from the sofa.

“Dani?” Mustafá looks his daughter and then at Dani. “Wait, you’re the one dating my daughter?” he asks confused, all Amira said is that she’s dating a boy and that he was coming for Iftar, he didn’t know it was Dani. He sighs in relief. “I was so scared of who it might be, come on here.”

Hesitantly, Dani follows Mustafá, who goes back to sit on the sofa and urges Dani to do the same.

Amira watches them from the door with a smile, her father is happy and Dani is getting more comfortable by the second. Amira looks at her mom and sees her smiling too, it looks like everything is going to be okay, now.

[lunavadash-creates]

Empyrean

Chapter 1 

Prologue here 

Pairing: Ezio Auditore/OC

Words: 2735

Warning: mention of death

He knew part of his palazzo in Florence had been destroyed, but he still couldn’t believe in what he saw. It looked like a warzone. The desk and chairs had been lying around, some with broken legs, papers and scrolls were scattered everywhere along with different trinkets like paperweights, coal, feathers, destroyed paintings. Glass from broken windows was shining on the grass and inside the room, there were scratches on walls and every flat surface, like someone, was cutting everything blindly with a knife. And the worst part was that entrance for his father’s secret room was opened and the mechanism broken. Even that room was a mess, the chest was knocked over, books were torn, laying around. Whoever did this have no respect for anything. It looked like there was no single thing that was left untouched. And Ezio? He felt like he was drowning in a pure anger.

Because of memories of his family and cruel fate that had touched his father and brothers he never dared to even walk near his palazzo and now here he was, for the first time in so many years, looking at the remains of his legacy. He was so upset that he wanted to throw or hit something, but everything had been already done. He could only stare for a few more seconds, feeling as though his heart was beating unnaturally fast in his chest. He felt the same dark anger that he felt on the day he killed Vieri. Now he wanted to find the person responsible for this and make them pay. 

Before he left, he decided to walk around his home with the hope he would be able to bring some things back to Tuscany. Claudia would be happy to have her dresses back. Maria would love paintings she ordered from Leonardo, right? He called two guards and ordered them to pack things he would point to them to the carriage.

Then he walked into Federico’s room, which was messy as always. Federico never made much effort to keep his place clean and that had always made the servants upset. But now drawers and cupboards were opened, trinkets on shelves knocked over, crumpled blankets were thrown on the floor with all the pillows. Someone had been looking for something and Ezio had no idea why they chose that room. Why Federico? He didn’t keep here anything important nor valuable, no money, no codex pages, no nothing. Then why this room was devastated? And why was it different than his father's room? He furrowed his eyebrow, trying to guess what the intruder was looking for, but he couldn’t find anything except noticeable differences in destruction. This room looked like it had been searched by a person, while the office looked like it had been invaded by a tornado.

But no matter those differences… Ezio was sure he had to find the one responsible and punish this person so no one in the whole of Italy would dare to cause any harm to his family ever again!

He left the guards to pack the remaining things, including all of his father belongings, especially some books that may be of importance. He was supervising all of this personally, with crossed arms, thinking about what he was supposed to do next. He couldn’t find any clues; any signs and he hadn’t heard about any Templars remaining in Florence. His enemy stayed undetected but Ezio was sure it wouldn’t take long. He had his men here – prostitutes and thieves. They had their ways of finding out everything that was supposed to stay hidden.

“Templars are becoming more and more insolent.”

Ezio to turned around surprised to see Niccolò Machiavelli, his friend and ally. He raised his eyebrow, looking at the younger man, who was staring into a broken door to Giovanni’s office.

“I thought there were no more Templars in Firenze.”

“There shouldn’t be any. But they are a disease hard to eradicate, we need to stay vigilant for our own sake.”

As always, he was focused and careful. His eyes were scanning his surroundings in search of clues, threats and knowledge hidden in the darkest and deepest spots of the city.

"I started to search for information as soon as I learnt about this misfortunate incident. Ask the guards what they had witnessed and then return to me. I expect to have some information until then." Machiavelli walked away, disappearing into the crowd of people, blending in with them. Ezio took few more minutes to make sure everything was packed properly and then he walked to the guards to question them. They were the only witnesses of this situation and, for now, his only source of intel.

None of the guards looked good, although one was in a visibly worse state than the other. His forehead was swollen, one eye dark and bruised, he had scratches around his face. The second guard had only one bruise on his temple. Both of them lowered their gaze the moment Ezio stood in front of them.

"What happened. Who did this? Tell me everything." he ordered.

"It was... it... I don't know messere. I heard a noise and went to investigate. Before I reached the room, something was thrown through the window and hit my head. I don't remember anything else," said the man with all those wounds. He looked ashamed and Ezio wondered how that could happened. The man in front of him was no weak, tiny boy. He was a large, strong man, one that people would instinctively avoid at any cost. With such grave injuries, it had to be the work of a well-trained Templar.

"I saw a woman. I also went to investigate those noises and saw Piero laying on the ground with a bleeding head. That woman ran through the door and I tried to catch her. Then she hit my head with something, a knife probably. It was hard enough for me to let go of her. She took the opportunity and run away, and because I couldn’t see her anywhere, I decided to take care of Piero’s wounds and finding someone who would deliver a message to you… messere.”

Ezio furrowed his eyebrows even more, confused and surprised. Since when had templars been using women for their own purpose? In those few years of constant fighting and hunting for Templars, he had never once met a woman on their side.

"What did she look like? Do you remember?"

"It was dark, messere. I couldn't see anything"

Ezio nodded and let the guards go back to their duties, while he went back to Machiavelli. He was talking with someone but stopped the same moment he saw Ezio.

"What did you learn?"

"It was a woman, but guards couldn't tell me more"

 He was equally surprised, because, quite simply, Templars didn't accept women into their folds. At least unless there was a woman born into the order. Though still, they preferred to move them away from all the important matters. Maybe they were afraid of treason from their side? Of them being too weak to handle such power. But if they suddenly changed their mind and trained women… she could be far more dangerous than any other Templar. Whoever she was, she knew exactly what she was looking for and how to blend in. People didn’t really pay attention to women, since they had no political power nor influence; but as for her… She was a figure they couldn’t ignore.

"What did you find out Machiavelli?"

"There was a woman in the cemetery asking the undertaker about your family. He confessed that she was interested in their deaths, the reasons behind it and the persons who did this. She also looked for their bodies and then she left." He took a deep breath, pacing around like he was thinking intensively about something. It wasn’t everything. “The undertaker is a paculiar man, he told us to stay away from that woman for our own sake. He seemed to be serious about it but couldn’t tell more. Although he shared a description of her look. You need to look for a woman about this high," he showed that she was allegedly reaching Ezio's shoulder, maybe a bit higher or lower. It was the average size for women in Florence. “She had grey, very pale eyes and red hair. She may seem average, but he said that after one look in her eyes we should know it’s her. That’s all.”

Ezio immediately sent thieves into the city, telling them to look for a woman with red hair and pale, grey eyes; that was all he could do for now.

The only thing left for him to do was to wait patiently. Ezio couldn't force himself to go back to his old home again. There were too many memories, and it wasn't the right time to drown into them. He needed a clear head and a calm conscious to survive that woman, the enemy he didn't know. Whoever she was, she was going to fall just like the rest of her Order. It didn't matter if she was new or veteran in their folds, being part of this organization meant that she contributed to the death of his family. 

Since he couldn't go back home just yet, he decided to stroll around the city, visiting some other places. But the very first place he went to was Palazzo di Vespucci, Cristina's home. He wandered around, finding only closed doors and dark windows. He sighed involuntarily. She was his first love, the woman he hoped to marry many years ago but now it was just a painful memory of another life he had lost. 

Another place he went was the roof of a church he climbed with Federico, the day before his death. He still remembered his words: "It's a good life we have, brother. May it never change and may it never change us."

He sat on the roof, looking at the city he once loved so much. Longing for the life he led here.

He never expected Firenze to become so alien and obnoxious. This wasn't his home anymore and he needed to make peace with this thought. Otherwise, he would never be able to truly move on. 

He took a deep breath, smelling all those familiar scents. Heavy perfumes of rich ladies, flowers at the riverside, the smell of wine and cooked meat. He felt like the memories flooded him, taking away his breath and leaving him vulnerable for a few long minutes. His whole life turned upside down and yet the city stayed exactly the same, exactly as he remembered it. Did he mean so little to Firenze that the city stayed untouched by his tragedy?  

When he opened his eyes again it was getting dark and he needed to rest before the next day. But since he still couldn't force himself to go home, he went straight to Paola's bordello. There he met a welcoming, warm embrace of the beautiful Paola and soon he got lost in the pleasure offered by her girls. Oblivion was very welcome in a moment like this. 

The new day welcomed him with loud knocks on his door that snatched him out of his sleep. Two women lying beside him moaned and moved, freeing him from their embrace. Ezio put on his trouser and still half naked opened the door, to see Paola with a breakfast.

“Buongiorno, Ezio. I believe you slept well.” She walked inside the room and put a tray with food on a table. Then she loudly clapped her hands, waking the girls on his bed. “Wake up, ladies, it’s time for work! Clean yourself and prepare for customers!”

None of woman protested when Paola commanded them to leave, so soon Ezio was alone, still trying to tie his shirt before breakfast. Before he knew it, Paola’s hands found his and she nimbly tied his shirt.

“Thank you, Paola, for your hospitality.’

 Almost a week passed, and there had been no trace of the woman. It were as if she never existed. Ezio grew more and more impatient, and anger built up every time he looked towards his home. He searched Florence for clues himself, concentrating mainly on observing the main quarters and squares. And on Sunday he even tried to do something that he did not expect of himself. On Sunday he went to Church for Mass, hoping that he would find a woman there, among other believers. However, he left disappointed and irritated.  

It wasn't until the next day when he was sitting on the roof of one of the taller buildings, that the news reached him. The young thief appeared on the roof; it was obvious that he had ran all the way up there because he was out of breath. However, his face was radiant and joyful as it was he who had the honour of notifying Ezio of the information he had gathered with his group.

The woman they were looking for was in Florence and she had finally made a mistake.

A dozen or so minutes ago she met the former beloved of Federico - Camilla. She introduced herself as Flora Auditore, Federico's cousin and friend, but Camilla refused to listen to her. Flora tried to convince her to talk about the eldest of the Auditore brothers but to no avail. What's more, Camilla's husband showed up after a while and Flora had to withdraw.

And now she was being followed by thieves.

Ezio was glad to hear the news and immediately ran after the young boy to join the rest of the group of thieves. He was finally approaching the goal he had been trying to achieve for a week. When he was finally led to the west side of town, near the river, he was somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected a woman this far from downtown. But she seemed to stay aloof, and now she was walking around, near the ramparts, looking on her left side, like she was searching for something there.

  “You did well. I will manage to do it myself from here, you can report to Machiavelli and tell him we will meet at Paola’s place,’ he told the thieves, letting them go. It was a one-man job and Ezio didn’t want any public attention.

He waited until he was alone and decided to follow the woman until she reached a place where he could trap her.

 Watching her from a distance, Ezio could see some details. Her hair was red like the flames that danced in the fireplace on chilly days. She looked nice in a blue dress and long braid, but Ezio wasn't about to be fooled by her charm. He waited patiently, like a hunter, a wild beast lurking on prey. And when the opportunity finally presented, he didn't hesitate. He jumped nimbly off the roof, landing noiselessly on the ground and waited for the woman to come closer so he could pull her into the alley. He was still watching her closely. It was then that he noticed that she was holding a book with silver assassin symbol on its cover in her hands.  Ezio saw it several times in his father's study, he knew this text. The discovery almost upset him, and a new wave of anger rose in his heart, obscuring his mind for a few moments.

As soon as the right moment came, Ezio grabbed her arm and, accompanied by a groan, pulled her into the alley, where he pushed her against the wall. Her back crashed against the cold bricks and a pained moan escaped her throat. Before she could react, Ezio trapped her hands above her head, squeezed her body against the wall, and pressed the blade to her throat. She felt the sharp edge pressing against her collarbone, digging into the delicate skin but not yet piercing it.

Ezio looked into her bright eyes, looking for the will to fight, the hatred he had always seen in the eyes of the Templars. But this time, all he could see was anxiety. The woman jerked involuntarily, but Ezio ran the blade over her skin, giving her a sign that he could puncture her artery at any moment.

"Now... Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now, Templar," he growled at her.

"Ezio… Ezio Auditore?"

[pynches]

a/n: written for @trc-wlw-week day 4, teacher au (in this case kindergarten)

Allison Parrish never wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. She had worked her way up from nothing and, because of that, felt like she had that much more to prove. So, she went to Harvard, got her bachelor, then her master, worked as a lawyer in a big firm, and realised she wasn’t happy. It had taken her a long time to figure out what it was that she wanted to do instead. It had taken her even longer to finally gain the courage to quit her job and go back to college.

She had always liked children. She wanted to be the person she needed at that age, help the little kids to find their way in a safe environment. One she never had. Though, there was a part of her that made her feel slightly uncomfortable around them when she did her internship the first year back at college. Her past blended into her present more than it had in years as she looked down at the innocent faces of the little children she was in charge of once a week. She had looked like that once, innocent and unassuming, and her father had still made her life a living hell. More than once she wondered if she should continue with her studies, fearing she might become what she so despised in her father. Nevertheless, she continued and it paid off.

Parker Elementary School hired her immediately after her internship there was over. And now, standing in front of the classroom, watching as her tiny students enthusiastically colour the Mickey Mouse colouring page she had printed out mere hours ago, it felt nothing but right. She still had to remind herself every day that she wasn’t Robert Parrish and though she was related to him, she wasn’t his actions either. And it took time, like all healing processes do, but her loving students made it all worth it.

“Miss Parrish!” Thomas shouted while running towards her, the colouring page clutched tightly in his little hand. “Look!”

Allison squatted down, her half-long dress falling over her lower legs as she did. Thomas was now directly in her line of sight, handing her the page immediately with a proud grin, one of his teeth missing.

“You did an amazing job, Thomas,” Allison praised, pulling the kid to her side. “I like this in particular.” Allison pointed to the swirl of colours Thomas had drawn right over Mickey Mouse’s face. “It’s a great use of blue.”

“Thank you, Miss Parrish,” Thomas said, suddenly shy. He didn’t meet his teacher’s eyes, looking at his shoes instead.

Allison watched him fondly and softly asked, “Maybe you’ll become a great artist someday. Would you want that?”

Thomas nodded frantically, his shyness forgotten. “I also want to be an astronaut and a cook and a doctor like my mommy and a dad.”

Allison laughed cheerily, ruffling the small kid’s hair softly. “You can be anything you want to be, don’t forget that.”

“I won’t!” Thomas promised, a serious expression on his face.

“Good,” Allison told him. She handed Thomas a back-up colouring page. “Go practise your art a bit more. We’ll have a break in 10 minutes.”

Thomas took the page carefully so it didn’t crinkle and went back to his friends, immediately taking over the blue coloured pencils.

The classroom was filled with happy children’s voice, all laughing or excitedly showing their friends what they have created. Allison relished in it. There was nothing that cheered her up more than seeing the children have fun, though sometimes it stung with an emptiness she knew couldn’t be filled. Instead of thinking about her past for too long and getting stuck in it, she walked past every student, praising them and helping them alike.

That was until she heard a loud scream coming from the hallway. She quickly told her students to stay seated as she went to go check out what was going on. A million things shot through her head, like it always did when she heard a child screaming or crying. What happened? Are they hurt? Is it medical? Bullies? As a teacher you must be prepared for everything, which is why she got her first-aid certificate pretty early on, but it still managed to invoke fear inside of her, telling her there was a possibility she couldn’t help.

When she entered the hallway, though, she realised the scream was not one of fear or pain, it was one of joy. Allison sagged against the wall outside of her classroom in relief, watching amusedly as no other than Rowan Lynch was parading a child on her shoulders.

The little girl had her arms wrapped around Rowan’s neck, her head on top of Rowan’s curls. Rowan was running around with her, holding on tightly to her legs so she wouldn’t fall. She was making funny sounds which only made the kid laugh harder.

“You’re silly,” the child laughed, poking Rowan in the head. Rowan didn’t look bothered one bit, she confirmed it instead by running around harder.

When Allison was introduced to Rowan Lynch, she immediately wondered why the school had hired her. The woman was all sharp angles and even sharper smirks which were pointed at her more often than not. Allison had only seen Rowan in the hallway, since their classrooms were right across from each other, but making conversation wasn’t fair high up on her to do list and Rowan never tried to talk to her either.

That was until Allison actually got to see how Rowan was with her students. Nothing was too much for her to handle and the kids absolutely adored her. As harsh as she looked on the outside, as gentle as she was within. That point proves itself again when Rowan didn’t even stop the girl on her shoulders from playing with her curls.

“It’s time for a break, Parrish,” Rowan said, never once bothering with formalities. Allison rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. She looked back to see how her own kids were doing but they were concentrating too much on colouring within the lines to notice. Rowan’s kids were pouring out of the classroom already and it would be mere seconds before her own students would notice.

Allison ignored Rowan’s intense eyes on her and focussed instead on the girl still sitting on Rowan’s shoulders. “What is your name, sweetheart?”

She didn’t ignore the reddening of Rowan’s cheeks as she let her old Henrietta accent slip through at the endearment.

“Cristina,” the girl replied, waving one little hand at Allison before tangling her hands in her hair again. Allison couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. Rowan didn’t seem as dangerous with a cute kid clutching onto her.

“Hi Cristina!” Allison said, waving back. “Are you having fun with Miss Lynch.” “Always, huh?” Rowan looked up to meet Cristina’s eyes with a fake firm expression. Cristina giggled to herself but nodded, distracted again by Rowan’s curls. She started singing to herself, her voice sweet and innocent. Rowan and Allison both melted a little.

Rowan smiled fondly. “She is talented.”

“She is,” Allison confirmed before turning back to her own kids. “I’ll see you outside?”

“As always,” Rowan said before walking off, little Cristina still singing and now moving her body along to the melody of her own voice.

Allison took her place next to Rowan on the bench they always sat on during break time. Her kids practically ran out of the door as she announced it was time for them to play outside. And now she was seated next to Rowan on “their” bench right in front of the playground so they had an eye on everybody. Their hallway had different timed breaks than the other hallways in the school filled with different grade years. They arranged it so that the little kids didn’t have to be scared of the bigger kids, meaning Rowan and Allison only had to deal with each other and two other teachers neither of them really cared about too much.

Though, since Rowan suddenly appeared into her life with a leather jacket and a devilish grin somewhere last year, they had gotten closer. Allison would almost call them friends, though with Rowan, you never really knew what went through her head. That women was build up from walls and secrets she wasn’t intending on sharing.

They spend their breaks in comfortable silence, sometimes gossiping about annoying parents or difficult teachers, sometimes arguing about whatever it was they couldn’t agree on, sometimes laughing and joking as if they were old friends.

Allison found herself looking forwards to the breaks more often these days, something she had never done before Rowan was hired.

“Wanna go over some lesson plans today? I was planning on doing some body part sh-“

Allison shot her a quick stern glance and Rowan quickly corrected herself.

“-stuff. I mean stuff.”

Allison nodded in approval which earned her a sheepish laugh. Rowan, as amazing as she was with the children, still needed a swearing filter every now and then. Allison happily provided her with one.

“Sure,” she said. She was looking forward to their meet up already, which stunned her a little. Sure, the breaks were nice to spend together and yes she looked forward to those, mainly because it was sometimes nice to talk to adults instead of little kids, but now after school meetings were fun to her as well? Well, specifically those with Rowan. After school meetings, the official ones, were mind-numbing. But those with Rowan were more casual, more fun in general. It made her feel less dead than the official ones made her feel, though now she was starting to question why specifically?

Allison never could deny Rowan was a very attractive woman. Black curls just reaching her shoulders, pale skin which put her frequent blushing on display, sharp angles but soft eyes whenever she interacted with her students. She always wore tight fitting shirts, designer, of course, that made Allison feel warm all over, something she always tried to ignore. With the leather jacket, ear piercings, and scar striking through one of her eyebrows she certainly didn’t look like a kindergarten teacher but she was one of the best in the school and Allison greatly admired her for that.

The end of the day couldn’t come quick enough, despite Allison adoring every single one of her kids. She ended the day with making them all tell something they liked and disliked about today, her heart melting when most of the kids mentioned that they liked her the most of the day. She often questioned what she did to deserve these kids but her mind always came up empty. She hugged them all at the door, helping them get into their jackets and waiting for their parents to arrive.

Across the hall, Rowan was giving every kid a fist bump. Their little fists against her bigger hand looked almost comical but Allison felt a surge of warmth well up in her chest at the sight. Such a rough and mean looking person being gentle with little children tore Allison’s heart apart. It was in moments like these that she fully realised Rowan Lynch was a very complicated person and much more than what Allison initially labeled her as.

She caught herself staring a little too long and turned back to smile at her kids who were too busy with each other to notice. Once the last kid had been picked up, Allison returned to her classroom, taking the big binder she kept out of the closet next to her desk.

Allison kept the binder in case she ever needed a backup lesson plan and used to quite frequently to come up with new ideas. If you don’t stimulate children enough, they will get bored and wreak havoc, which is something to be avoided at all costs.

“Oh no,” came from the door opening where Rowan was leaning against the doorpost. “The binder.”

“Shut up,” Allison said but there was no real malice in it. Rowan smirked, making her stomach drop a little. She kicked herself off from the doorpost and made her way over to her desk, sitting on top of it. Allison almost kicked her off but she was in a good mood today so she let it slide this time.

“Let’s start then.”

Every teacher will tell you that lesson plans are the worst and even Allison with her colour-coded binder, hates making them more than anything. But every teacher will also tell you that they are really helpful, especially when you deal with children who get bored easily. So, they plowed through, listing the ideas on next week’s topic: the body. They had to figure out a way of teaching them the different body parts without making it too boring. They eventually decided on a game but it needed some refining so they stayed longer than either of them had planned.

It often went like this. Teachers have more workload than many people realise and it showed when the lights automatically turned off to indicate that the school was officially closing. Luckily, they had the keys to the main entrance after being locked in too often.

Halfway through their planning Rowan huffed and put her hair in a bun, securing it with a pencil. Locks of curls were falling in front of her eyes, making her blue eyes even more striking. Allison watched in amazement as she did. Even the cliche teacher hairdo didn’t make her look any less threatening.

Fascinating.

“It’s fucking hot in here,” she said, jumping down from the desk, hair still in place. She walked towards a window to open it, her back towards Allison who immediately froze.

Is that a tattoo?

Allison couldn’t make out what it was exactly but black ink was poking out of her black t-shirt, curling around the back of her neck and traveling down.

“Didn’t know you had one of those.”

Allison meant to stay quiet but it came tumbling out, the shock to great to think straight about the consequences of poking into Rowan’s life. Rowan merely turned around and grinned at her.

“You like it?” she asked, her voice lowering just a little. Allison felt her heart beat in her throat, watching as the ink followed the movements of her neck. She was enthralled and nearly asked if she could see the rest of her tattoo but quickly closed her mouth.

Rowan’s eyes glinted as if she had guessed what Allison was thinking. Allison felt her cheeks burn and quickly changed the subject back to the lesson plans. They didn’t speak about it again but she could feel Rowan’s eyes burning through her.

And if Allison was thinking about the tattoo late that night, imagining what the ink must look like on the pale expanse of her back, nobody would know but her.

[lord-of-shadows]

A New Life (Kitty Reunion Ch. 4)

the last chapter is finally here!! check it out on AO3 or read under the cut. kit returns to the LA Institute and an unexpected visitor arrives (aka the reunion! warning: it gets a lil spicy). ~4k words. read ch. 1, ch. 2, and ch. 3. enjoy!! (thank you to everyone who read and left nice comments, i appreciate them a lot! definitely expect more kitty fics from me soon!)

CHAPTER FOUR

When Kit arrived in the Los Angeles Institute through the Portal, the first thing he recognized was the familiar feeling of the black and white marble underneath him, and his breath almost caught at how much he forgot how beautiful the inside was. 

Then, when he was back to his senses, he noticed the crowd of people that had gathered––Helen and Julian were greeting Tessa, Emma was hugging Jem, Tavvy and Nene were already running off with Cordelia in tow––Aline’s “Get back here!” heard in the background––and Dru had come to stand before him with her arms bent on her waist and one eyebrow raised. Kit realized how much she had changed since they last saw each other; she was a little taller and carried herself with more confidence now, but she was still the same Dru––and suddenly, he was enveloped into a tight hug, released only after it felt as if he had been squeezed to death.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said with a smile, holding up a finger and moving it around. “You promised me something, remember?”

Kit vaguely recalled agreeing to teach her more crime stuff when they met again, and he let out a shaky laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ve composed an entire list of what to teach you next.”

She brightened at that, and Kit was then greeted by Emma––"The boy who mysteriously disappeared has returned!" she had exclaimed––and Julian, who clasped him on the shoulder, nodding at him, saying, “Glad you’re back, Kit.”

Helen and Aline greeted him as well, but they didn’t really know him that well––the only person here he really knew was Dru, who was standing next to him as they listened to Emma and Julian recount what they saw on patrol.

“There’s an increase in demonic activity around the regions where the blight has spread. It’s strange, though,” Julian said confusingly, “These demons don’t attack unless threatened. They seem to be…” He hesitated, then looked at Kit. “Searching for something. Or someone,” he added. Kit tensed.

Tessa frowned, moving to put a hand on Kit’s shoulder, a protective gesture. “Could you and Emma guide us to the where the ley line is? Jem and I would like to begin investigating this issue as quickly as possible.”

Emma nodded, sharing a knowing look with Tessa. “Of course. Cristina and Mark are on their way to give us any updates from Kieran. It’s suspicious how the Queen hasn’t responded, though.” There was a glint of anger in her eye. “I never did like her.”

Julian put a reassuring hand on her back. He scrunched his nose. "Neither did I. Let’s get going, then.” They walked past Kit towards the entrance, Tessa turning to follow them, and Jem approached Kit, his hand resting on his arm as he spoke in a low voice: “Are you alright, Christopher?”

Kit shot him a weak smile. “Yeah, I think I’m good.”

“If anything happens––”

“I know, I know,” he shot Jem a smile, the one that Jem always said reminded him of his parabatai (Will, Kit recalled his name was––he had met the ghost several times, bent over Cordelia’s crib at night, his soft voice singing Welsh lullabies to help her fall back asleep). “Grab the baby and run." Jem opened his mouth, about to protest, but Kit threw up his hands. "Kidding! I’ll be fine, Jem. Tessa is waiting for you.” He was right, Tessa was waiting by the doors, a sad smile on her face as if she was remembering someone.

Jem shook his head, face mirroring Tessa’s, and he let Kit’s hand fall as he joined her by the door.

Once they heard the door close, Dru turned to Kit, a confused expression on her face. “That’s weird. What was that for?”

“What?” Kit asked, still shaken by what Julian said.

“The whole––” She noticed the look on Kit’s face, then shook her head. “Nevermind. Let’s go to the training room.” There was a wicked look in her eye. “Let’s see if you’ve really gotten better since you’ve been gone.”

Soon enough, Kit found himself back in the training room––he was surprised that he remembered all of the twists and turns to get there, could close his eyes and let his feet guide him to familiar places in the Institute. He was doing target practice with Dru, both of them consistently getting bullseyes, while also keeping a watchful eye over Cordelia and Nene playing with a paintbrush set––Julian’s, perhaps––in the corner. He was currently telling Dru about Devon and the friends he’s made––he thought she would like Trisha, since the girl had the same interests as Dru––and Dru would pipe in with her own tales from the Shadowhunter Academy in New York, and how she’s made a group of friends, most notably a girl named Thais.

She was telling him about an incident that happened when Simon was a guest speaker that left Kit doubling over with laughter, causing him to miss the center of the target just slightly, and Dru was laughing at his aghast expression, pointing a finger at him, shouting, “Ha! I win!”

Kit was about to make a remark on how technically she didn’t win since she cheated, but before he could get the words out, they heard commotion coming from the other end of the Institute.

They both looked at each other, and Dru shrugged. “Maybe it’s Cristina and Mark?”

“We can go check it out.” Dru nodded and turned to call Nene and Cordelia over. Kit turned to face Cordelia, then flinched––she had gotten blue paint all over herself, marking her cheeks like a barbarian going into battle. Oh, he was going to have a great time explaining that to Tessa later.

They headed towards the entrance, Dru handing Nene and Cordelia off to Tavvy, who looked upset to have to take care of the kids––"Hey, that was my job when I was your age, so deal with it," Dru had said––and when they reached the grand entryway, they found Helen and Aline already there, obscuring their view as to who arrived.

They turned around, Helen with a bright smile on her face, and Kit didn’t even need for them to move aside to know who was towering behind them.

“Ty!” Dru exclaimed, and she ran forward and spread her arms as if asking permission for an embrace. Surprisingly, Ty accepted it, hair falling over his eyes as he bent down to rest his head on Dru’s shoulder. Kit stood there, shock paralyzing his body. Everything seemed to stop.

It was Ty.

And he had gotten really tall.

“I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks! What happened?” Dru’s voice echoed in his ears, but he wasn’t paying attention––he was staring at the back of Ty’s head, at the way his body moved with the grace that it always carried.

“Classes ended early,” Kit stiffened at the sound of his voice. It was more mature and deeper if that was even possible––it made his heart race faster, his breathing uneven. “Institutes were calling for the help of warlocks. They decided to end the semester early so we could help investigate the issue as well.”

“Huh, that’s weird,” Dru said, pulling away. “Tessa and Jem arrived today. Emma and Jules just left to show them the ley lines.”

“Tessa and Jem are here?” Ty finally raised his head, but before he could spot him, Kit had vanished, and he was running away, like he always did, although he didn’t know where, exactly––until a cool breeze hit his face, and he was looking out in the distance at the lights on the water, the waves crashing against the shore.

His feet carried him to the rooftop, the very place where he and Ty had escaped to three years ago whenever everything was too overwhelming for them as if it was their secret, hidden cove. Their safe haven. He found himself sitting at the edge again, legs dangling underneath him, fingers gripping the smooth stone of the brick as he tried to calm his breathing and will his heart to slow down.

At the sound of Ty’s voice, it felt as if everything he kept buried the past three years suddenly shot back up again, and it left a painful feeling in his chest that Kit had tried so hard to ignore. Memories flashed through him, from Ty holding a knife to his neck and Kit’s traitorous mind thinking How beautiful, to holding Ty on the rooftop, to Livvy’s death, to doing everything in his power to keep Ty from slipping away from him, which turned out futile because he ended up losing him anyway, ended up running away because Ty didn’t care for him, he never did––

Hands on his shoulders knocked him out of his thoughts, and Kit was about to recoil, but then he heard words being whispered over and over in that soothing, deep voice: whisper, cloud, secret, highway, hurricane, mirror, castle, thorns.

“Blackthorns,” Kit whispered, and looked up at Ty’s face.

Emotions he had locked in a dark vault deep in his heart exploded in him, and he noticed how Ty’s face had gotten sharper, the shape of his body and curve of his lips and gray eyes and dark eyelashes rendering Kit breathless––his black hair had grown, falling over his eyes, and Kit almost laughed, remembering when Ty had told him he needed a haircut, and now Ty was the one who was in desperate need of one, but it didn’t matter, because right now, Kit was wondering how it felt to run his hands through his hair, to feel the silk strands between his fingertips.

Ty was older, more elegant, strikingly beautiful, and handsome.

Kit felt his stomach flip as it did all those years ago. He almost forgot how it felt like.

“Can I sit next to you?” Ty was looking at his hands on Kit’s shoulders, and Kit realized he must feel uncomfortable touching him, and then he realized how awkward it was that Kit was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

He shut his mouth, turning his head around, and managed to choke out, “Y–yeah, of course.”

He saw Ty sit next to him from the edge of his peripheral and watched how his hands began to flutter on his lap, gaze focused on the waves. At least some things haven’t changed, Kit thought.

“Fifty months, two weeks, and four days,” Ty said.

Kit blinked, looking back at Ty. “What?”

“How long it’s been since you left without saying goodbye.” Ty was looking at Kit now, at the area underneath his eye which betrayed the dark circles that had formed due to Cordelia not being able to sleep well at night as of late.

Kit inhaled. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you leave?” Ty didn’t sound angry, just confused. Kit almost let out a breath of relief––he was so sure the other boy would be mad at him, and he was ready to take the blow. He deserved it, Kit knew. It would’ve been better if Ty was yelling at him, instead of speaking to him in that calm, gentle voice that always sent his heart racing.

His mind scrambled for what to say. “I was scared. After what happened, I–I thought you hated me, so I ran because I thought I wasn’t needed. I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t hate you,” Ty said levelly. Kit could tell he was assessing the situation, thinking of the right words to say––he was a Centurion now, as the uniform he wore depicted, but Ty didn’t need a uniform to show that––it was there in his actions, in his observant, investigative gaze. “And I do care.”

“No,” Kit whispered under his breath, his heart loud in his ears. “Not like that.”

“You said you wished you never met me.” Ty didn’t seem to hear him, saying the statement matter-of-factly, as if it was the truth.

Kit immediately blurted, “No!” He took a deep breath. “Ty, I didn’t mean it. Knowing you––it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Julian told me once that people said things they didn’t mean because of their emotions.” Ty’s eyebrows were furrowed as if Kit was a puzzle he was trying to solve. “Is that true?”

Curse Julian, Kit thought. Instead, he stammered, “I–I guess?” Ty was close to him now, so close that Kit could feel his gentle breathing on his skin, could easily reach out in front of him and comb back his hair. His heart was pounding, his breaths coming out short––how did Ty manage to look so composed? It had been so long since he was this close to the other boy, and Kit suddenly felt afraid, as if he didn’t trust his ability to control himself––

“What kind of emotions?”

Kit didn’t know if Ty was tricking him, interrogating him, or just genuinely curious, but he found that he didn’t care since the words that were trapped in him for so long came spilling out.

“At the lake, I told you that I loved you, and you didn’t react––which I feel dumb now thinking about it, because I shouldn’t have expected you to respond, but it still hurt––” Kit squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to see Ty’s expression. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about how you said I was nothing to you, because Ty, you were everything to me, and I tried so, so hard, but damn it, you still are––”

Suddenly, he felt something against his lips, and his eyes shot open to see Ty’s face, inches away, his eyes closed and lashes fluttering. He felt his entire body burn, fire spreading through this skin, his mind screaming––Was this really happening?––and before he could register it, Ty had pulled back, a pale blush flushing his cheeks––Kit thought it was cute.

“Was that––was that okay?” Ty’s eyes were darting away from his face, his breathing heavy, and Kit struggled to fight the urge to pull him in again.

“It was,” he said breathlessly, “Perfect. You’re perfect, Ty.”

He knew it was cheesy, but the blush on Ty’s face grew stronger, and Ty seemed astonished at the claim. Kit wanted to hold him close, to reassure him that he was beautiful and absolutely amazing and extremely intelligent, too. He wanted to hold him close and never let him go. “But, if you don’t mind me asking,” Kit breathed, “Why did you do that?”

“Someone at the Scholomance told me that if you liked someone and they liked you back, then you should kiss them.” Ty looked at him worryingly, shyness creeping up his features. “Is that not what you’re supposed to do?”

Kit let out a laugh. “Only if you do it again.”

And before Kit could let in another breath, Ty had pulled him close and connected their lips once again, and this time, Kit responded, his hands immediately flying to Ty’s waist.

Ty tensed, and Kit was ready to pull back, an apology on his lips, but Ty held him where he was. “Touch me,” he said, voice low and stormy gray eyes staring intensely at Kit’s. Kit nodded, a sharp intake of breath due to the eye contact, and, a bit dazed, he drew Ty in, one hand circling his back and the other moving up his arm. Kit could feel the muscle underneath––Ty had most definitely gotten stronger since they last met––and he was reminded that despite having such a delicate, fragile, and beautiful frame, Ty was a Shadowhunter through and through, groomed to fight.

Ty’s hands began to hesitantly roam his body, and for a second Kit felt like his fifteen-year-old self again, wanting to impress Ty at the Shadow Market––except now, he was eighteen, and he wanted to impress Ty at how muscular he’s gotten, at how much his body has improved in the past three years. Kit tangled his hands in Ty’s hair, pulling him onto his lap and drawing the boy closer to him, relishing in the way Ty gasped against his mouth. They were both painfully inexperienced, but it didn’t matter––Kit was tightly grasping onto him, lips moving feverishly against his, afraid that if he let go, Ty would slip away from him forever.

Ty broke away, catching his breath. He was looking at Kit through his eyelashes, an unknown battle flickering in his eyes, his fingers dancing wildly on Kit’s shoulders. “Are you going to leave again?” He whispered, forehead resting against Kit’s.

Fire, Kit thought, throat dry at how Ty’s eyes seemed to smolder. You are playing with fire. He could feel his heart break. Aren’t you? he wanted to say, since he suspected Ty had to return to the Scholomance soon, and Kit would have to wait forever to see him again, and the thoughts in his mind were in chaos, but he knew one thing for sure, and that was he didn’t want to be separated from Ty again. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Ty so, but a high-pitched voice cut him off before he could utter a word.

“Kit-Kat!”

They immediately broke apart, Ty panickingly moving some distance away from Kit, and Kit turned to find Cordelia running towards him, but something in Kit noticed that her balance wasn’t that developed yet, and as if on instinct, he rapidly turned back onto the rooftop, arms reaching out to catch her before she could fall, and he was on his knees, hugging her close to his chest, trying to catch his breath––he was vaguely aware that he should chastise her for running so carelessly, but the relief in his body was so overwhelming, and Cordelia was starting to cry anyway, so he kept repeating to her that she was safe, she was safe.

Kit felt Ty kneel next to him, and he extended a closed hand out to Cordelia, whose crying had now stopped, replaced by gentle sniffs. She took his hand, small fingers still stained with blue paint, and Ty opened it to reveal a piece of chocolate in its wrapper. Cordelia squealed.

“You know, she's not supposed to have chocolate,” Kit said, voice surprisingly calm given the number of things that had just happened, the number of thoughts and emotions colliding in his head.

Ty looked at him and smiled––really smiled. “You’re never too young for chocolate.”

Kit reciprocated the smile, and it hit him with a pang how much it felt like old times. Kit turned away to face Cordelia, clicking his tongue. “DeeDee, I know you’re ready to be a Shadowhunter and all, but you can’t fall off rooftops just yet. You still got a decade to go, buddy.”

“Sorry,” she said, sounding more like “sowwy” since she couldn’t fully pronounce R’s yet. Either way, it didn’t really sound like she was since she did get some chocolate out of it.

“See, told you the chocolate was a bad idea,” Kit said, shaking his head.

Ty just shrugged. “One piece of chocolate never hurt anyone. Her name is Cordelia, right?”

“Yeah,” Kit ruffled her hair, which earned him a little “Hey!”. “I call her DeeDee. She always manages to find herself in trouble.” Kit remembered the fiasco with the Christmas lights that happened just yesterday, and he smiled. “This is no different.”

Kit could see that Ty was still smiling––if it was even possible, it made him more beautiful.

“I like him, Kit-Kat,” Cordelia said, licking the chocolate from her fingers. Kit felt a surge of pride in him. It was important to have the little sister’s approval, he thought. Not that Ty was his boyfriend or anything.

Was he?

“Thank you, DeeDee,” Ty said, turning to Kit. “I see she calls you Kit-Kat,” he inquired jokingly.

Kit rolled his eyes. “It’s so frustrating! She saw the candy at the grocery store and wouldn’t stop calling me it since. Jem thought it was because she wanted the chocolate bar, so he bought an entire pack for her––and she was extremely excited about that, but it turns out it was just her new nickname for me.”

Ty laughed––Kit let the sound fill his ears and wondered if Ty smiled and laughed more often now, or if those were just reserved for him. He wanted to know how his life was at the Scholomance, if he had discovered any cool things or found new animals, but as he opened his mouth to ask, voices drifted up from the entrance.

Kit’s eyes widened, but Cordelia beat him to it. “Mama! Papa!” She got up, but Kit made sure to grab her hand this time as they stood.

“They are back,” Ty said, straightening, and Kit noticed how Ty was now a head taller than him––he had to tilt his head up to see the other boy’s face. Kit could feel his heart beat faster because of the fact.

“Right,” he said, composing himself. “You should go say hello to Emma and Julian.”

“Are you not coming?”

“I need a moment,” Kit said, and he saw Ty’s eyes flicker behind him, understanding flashing on his face. Kit kneeled down so he was eye-level with Cordelia. “Follow Ty, okay? Don’t get lost. I don’t know if I even want to know how you managed to find your way up here in the first place.”

“Dru showed me!” She exclaimed. Kit blinked. Dru? But before he could inquire more, Ty had grabbed her hand––she made no protest to this, which was rare, since Cordelia didn’t let anyone touch her that easily––and they both went back inside, the door shutting softly behind them.

Kit let out a long exhale, then turned to where Livvy’s ghost was perched in the shadows. “Livvy,” he breathed. “Long time no see.”

“Herondale.” Livvy smiled, the light not quite reaching her Blackthorn-green eyes, her brown hair laid out behind her, contrasted against the white of her dress––the way it was at her funeral, Kit remembered. Her necklace shone. “I see you have progressed a lot.”

Kit frowned. That was a strange way of putting it. “Yeah, I guess. Tessa and Jem aren’t exactly the most lenient of trainers.”

“But not with your magic.” Livvy drifted closer to him. "It is not enough.”

“Yeah, I still can't manage to control it yet––wait, what do you mean 'not enough?'"

There was a small frown on her lips, a crease between her eyebrows. It had been so long since Kit last saw her as a ghost, he had forgotten how despite looking the same, she carried a different demeanor around her––one more cold and sorrowful. “I fear the repercussion of what happened three years ago is finally taking effect.” She looked at his face, worry evident in her eyes. “I cannot find it in my heart to tell Ty, but now that you are back––take care of him. Do not run as you did before. He needs you now more than ever.”

“What do you mean? What’s going to happen?” Kit stumbled towards her. “Livvy!” He exclaimed just as she vanished, and the view of the Pacific encompassed his vision instead. He cursed.

The sun was already low in the sky, and Kit was mildly aware that he should return inside before Tessa got worried, but he was suddenly thrown back to the first few months in Devon, where he would find himself always attracted to the beach, dreaming of the Los Angeles shore.

It suddenly hit him that he was back, back in the city where he grew up in, where his entire life had changed––he loved living in Devon and in the comfort of his little family, but as he turned around and walked towards the door leading back into the Institute, Kit realized one thing:

Los Angeles would always be his home. And he was glad to be back.

[allthegodstars]

Queen Of Air And Darkness Snippet

Part 2

They were all Council members. Cristina said a silent prayer of thanks that her mother wasn’t here, that she’d been too busy dealing with an outbreak of Halphas demons in the Alameda Central to attend, trusting Diego to represent her interests.

“There is no time to lose,” Horace said. He exuded a sense of humorless intensity, just like his daughter. “We are without an Inquisitor, now, at a critical time, when we are under threat from outside and inside the Clave.” He glanced around the room. “We hope that after today’s events, those of you who have doubted our cause will come to be believers.”

Cristina felt cold inside. This was more than just a Cohort meeting. This was the Cohort recruiting. Inside the empty Council Hall, where Livvy had died. She felt sick.

“What do you think you’ve learned, exactly, Horace?” said a woman with an Australian accent. “Be clear with us, so we’re all understanding the same thing.”

He smirked a little. “Andrea Sedgewick,” he said. “You were in favor of the Cold Peace, if I recall correctly.”

She looked pinched. “I don’t think much of Downworlders. But what happened here today . . .”

“We were attacked,” said Dearborn. “Betrayed, attacked, inside and out. I’m sure you all saw what I saw—the sigil of the Unseelie Court?”

Cristina remembered. As Annabel had disappeared, borne away through the shattered window of the Hall as if by unseen hands, a single image had flashed on the air: a broken crown.

The crowd murmured their assent. Fear hung in the air like a miasma. Dearborn clearly relished it, almost licking his lips as he gazed around the room. “The Unseelie King, striking at the heart of our homeland. He sneers at the Cold Peace. He knows we are weak. He laughs at our inability to pass stricter Laws, to do anything that would really control the fey—”

“No one can control the fey,” said Scarsbury.

“That’s exactly the attitude that’s weakened the Clave all these years,” snapped Zara. Her father smiled at her indulgently.

“My daughter is right,” he said. “The fey have their weaknesses, like all Downworlders. They were not created by God or by our Angel. They have flaws, and we have never exploited them, yet they exploit our mercy and laugh at us behind their hands.”

“What are you suggesting?” said Trini. “A wall around Faerie?”

There was a bit of derisive laughter. Faerie existed everywhere and nowhere: It was another plane of existence. No one could wall it off.

Horace narrowed his eyes. “You laugh,” he said, “but iron doors at all the entrances and exits of Faerie would do a great deal to prevent their incursions into our world.”

“Is that the goal?” Manuel spoke lazily, as if he didn’t have much invested in the answer. “Close off Faerie?”

“There is not only one goal, as you well know, boy,” said Dearborn. Suddenly he smiled, as if something had just occurred to him. “You know of the blight, Manuel. Perhaps you should share your knowledge, since the Consul has not. Perhaps these good people should be aware of what happens when the doors between Faerie and the world are flung wide.”

Holding her necklace, Cristina seethed silently as Manuel described the patches of dead blighted earth in Brocelind Forest: the way they resisted Shadowhunter magic, the fact that the same blight seemed to exist in the Unseelie Lands of Faerie. How did he know that? Cristina agonized silently. It had been what Kieran was going to tell the Council, but he hadn’t had the chance. How did Manuel know?

She was only grateful that Diego had done what she had asked him to do, and taken Kieran to the Scholomance. It was clear there would have been no safety for a full-blood faerie here.

“The Unseelie King is creating a poison and beginning to spread it to our world—one that will make Shadowhunters powerless against him. We must move now to show our strength,” said Zara, cutting Manuel off before he was finished.

“As you moved against Malcolm?” said Lazlo. There were titters, and Zara flushed—she had proudly claimed to have slain Malcolm Fade, a powerful warlock, though it had later turned out she had lied. Cristina and the others had hoped the fact would discredit Zara—but now, after what had happened with Annabel, Zara’s lie had become little more than a joke.

Dearborn rose to his feet. “That’s not the issue now, Balogh. The Blackthorns have faerie blood in their family. They brought a creature—a necromantic half-dead thing that slew our Inquisitor and filled the Hall with blood and terror—into Alicante.”

“Their sister was killed too,” said Luana. “We saw their grief.

They did not plan what happened.”

Cristina could see the calculations going on inside Dearborn’s head—he would have dearly liked to blame the Blackthorns and see them all tossed into the Silent City prisons, but the spectacle of Julian holding Livvy’s body as she died was too raw and visceral for even the Cohort to ignore. “They are victims too,” he said, “of the Fair Folk prince they trusted, and possibly their own faerie kin. Perhaps they can be brought around to see a reasonable point of view. After all, they are Shadowhunters, and that is what the Cohort is about— protecting Shadowhunters. Protecting our own.” He laid a hand on Zara’s shoulder. “When the Mortal Sword is restored, I am sure Zara will be happy to lay any doubts you have about her accomplishments to rest.”

Zara flushed and nodded. Cristina thought she looked guilty as sin, but the rest of the crowd had been distracted by the mention of the Sword.

“The Mortal Sword restored?” said Trini. She was a deep believer in the Angel and his power, as Cristina’s family was too. She looked anxious now, her thin hands working in her lap. “Our irreplaceable link to the Angel Raziel—you believe it will be returned to us?”

“It will be restored,” Dearborn said smoothly. “Jia will be meeting with the Iron Sisters tomorrow. As it was forged, so can it be reforged.”

“But it was forged in Heaven,” protested Trini. “Not the Adamant Citadel.”

“And Heaven let it break,” said Dearborn, and Cristina suppressed a gasp. How could he claim such a brazen thing? Yet the others clearly trusted him. “Nothing can shatter the Mortal Sword save Raziel’s will. He looked upon us and he saw we were unworthy. He saw that we had turned away from his message, from our service to angels, and were serving Downworlders instead. He broke the sword to warn us.” His eyes glittered with a fanatic light. “If we prove ourselves worthy again, Raziel will allow the Sword to be reforged. I have no doubts.”

How dare he speak for Raziel? How dare he speak as if he were God? Cristina shook with fury, but the others seemed to be looking at him as if he offered them a light in darkness. As if he were their only hope.

“And how do we prove ourselves worthy?” said Balogh in a more somber voice.

“We must remember that Shadowhunters were chosen,” said Horace. “We must remember that we have a mandate. We stand first in the face of evil, and therefore we come first. Let Downworlders look to their own. If we work together with strong leadership—”

“But we don’t have strong leadership,” said Jessica Beausejours, one of Zara’s Centurion friends. “We have Jia Penhallow, and she is tainted by her daughter’s association with faeries and half-bloods.”

There was a gasp and a titter. All eyes turned toward Horace, but he only shook his head. “I will not utter a word against our Consul,” he said primly.

More murmurs. Clearly Horace’s pretense of loyalty had won him some support. Cristina tried not to grind her teeth.

“Her loyalty to her family is understandable, even if it may have blinded her,” said Horace. “What matters now is the Laws the Clave passes. We must enforce strict regulations on Downworlders, the strictest of all on the Fair Folk—though there is nothing fair about them.”

“That won’t stop the Unseelie King,” said Jessica, though Cristina got the feeling she didn’t so much doubt Horace as desire to prompt him to go further.

“The issue is preventing faeries and other Downworlders from joining the King’s cause,” said Horace. “That is why they need to be observed and, if necessary, incarcerated before they have a chance to betray us.”

“Incarcerated?” Trini echoed. “But how—?”

“Oh, there are several ways,” said Horace. “Wrangel Island, for instance, could hold a host of Downworlders. The important thing is that we begin with control. Enforcement of the Accords. Registration of each Downworlder, their name and location. We would start with the faeries, of course.”

There was a buzz of approval.

“We will, of course, need a strong Inquisitor to pass and enforce those laws,” said Horace.

“Then let it be you!” cried Trini. “We have lost a Mortal Sword and an Inquisitor tonight; let us at least replace one. We have a quorum—enough Shadowhunters are here to put Horace forward for the Inquisitor’s position. We can hold the vote tomorrow morning. Who is with me?”

A chant of “Dearborn! Dearborn!” filled the room. Cristina hung on to the railing of the balcony, her ears ringing. This couldn’t happen. It couldn’t. Trini wasn’t like that. Her mother’s friends weren’t like that. This couldn’t be the real face of the Council.

She scrambled to her feet, unable to stand another second of it, and bolted from the gallery.

—

[indecent-lemon]

Back with the Blackthorns S01E01 “Pilot”

This is my gift for my lovely friend Becca aka @thepurplewarlock || One day while we were talking I said that she could have an entire sitcom based off of her quirkiness and it lead to this || I’m not sure if I’ll write more about this so don’t get your hopes up too high(if you have hopes lol)

Rebecca heaved her luggage to the front door of the Los Angeles Institute. It was two PM; sweltering hot and she had gotten off her eight-hour flight. Usually, shadowhunters used portals to get around but it only took one look at that swirling mass of warped space and time to say NOPE. But right then she was wondering if she had made the right choice.

She wandered aimlessly on the beach, searching for a huge church. Five people had asked her if she was lost. She was tempted to say yes but how would she explain it? Yeah, I’m looking for some super attractive, demon-fighting people with cool tattoos and they live in an invisible church. Well, invisible to you. Have you seen them? And even her eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the Sight yet. But when they finally did it slapped her in the face.

The Institute loomed over her. The cement was cracked, there were dents in the walls, and the backyard was abuzz with life; impressions made in the dirt and trees. People live in that old house, alright. Her people.

She reached the front door and rang the doorbell, which seemed newly installed like the large windows. It did little good to the weathered place. She heard shuffling and harsh whispering from the inside and then the door opened to reveal a tall, teenage boy with sea-green eyes that held distrust.

She felt a tad dazed but composed herself quickly. She beamed.

The boy shook his head, “You must be confused. Wherever you need to be, it’s not here. There’s a phone booth near the beach.”

Becca pushed up her sleeve to uncover the rune of angelic power on her wrist. The whispering stopped and suddenly people were crowding the door. She saw a beautiful blonde girl mutter, “I bet you five bucks she’s a lost Herondale, Kit”, to a smaller blond boy who looked as if he had too many tricks up his sleeve. Kit answered, “No way, Emma. She doesn’t look sarcastic enough.”

Becca thought of the name Herondale, she’d heard it being thrown around in Alicante with both negative and positive connotations.

“I’m not a lost Herondale”, she said, “I’m a recently ascended mundane from England as you can tell by my accent. I have chosen the name Rebecca Blackthorn.” She smiled shyly and quickly added, “But you guys can call me Becca.” Emma grumbled as she slipped green bills into Kit’s fingers—which held money with a certain familiarity of a con man but his eyes said no such thing.

The boy who opened the door was taken aback, “You don’t want that name. I’m ninety percent sure it’s cursed. Don’t use Herondale either.”

“Or Dearborn”, Emma growled. Somehow, his frown was etched even deeper into his tanned face.

“You guys can’t be so bad. You seem like a nice family.”

“That’s how we’re supposed to seem. Now please, go back to Alicante and change your name.”

Becca stammered, “B-but why don’t you want me here? You don’t even know me. I’d like to help.”

A cute, chubby girl who embodied her siblings’ traits asked, “Yeah, why Julian? I’ve only met like three people who don’t live in this house. She’s new.”

Julian replied, “It’s not that we don’t want you it’s just that we have a lot of emotional baggage and we need to be able to trust you completely.”

A brooding faerie glared under periwinkle locks, “I suggest we give her a test to assess her loyalty.”

Julian crossed him arms, “Kieran, loyalty takes time to build. You can’t just—”

“Okay. Here’s the test; Do you like lamps?”, queried a man with two-colored irises. One solid, the other metallic like the faerie’s. He practically bounced off the walls with his bubbly energy.

Becca decided to ignore the oddity of the question, “Lamps are nice. I like them.”

“That settles it. She’s a Blackthorn.”

Julian sighed, “Come on in, Becca.”

A girl volunteered, “Let me help you with that. I’m Livvy”, and grabbed the luggage.

Becca exclaimed, “Careful! I have precious cargo…” Mugs spilled from a hole in the pack. Twenty mugs along with a hundred tea bags. Eyes bored into her head.

A gray-eyed, obsidian-haired boy pondered, “Why are you smuggling tea of all things? There’s much more profit in the illegal drug industry. Unless… they’re vintage?”

Julian chided, “Ty! Don’t give her ideas.”

***

Becca was a bit embarrassed about her excessive mug collection but pride still filled her heart. And tea was currently filling her stomach. The warm cinnamon taste relieved her headache and near heat stroke. She thought, Why must California be so hot?

She missed her mundane family and friends in England. She had told them she was going to the U.S. to study. It was abrupt and questionable because she was so happy with her job and life but they wished her luck. She hoped she could go visit soon. Until then she was stuck in a room that lacked personality but it wasn’t all bad.

Earlier that day, Diana, the tutor had shown her around the place. Although, it didn’t keep the new shadowhunter from getting confused. She felt like leaving a trail of bread crumbs or more so—tea bags. Diana had also went through some training sessions—mental and physical— which left her bones and brain feeling like mush. She could hardly hold up her mug and sleep threatened to come but she wanted to stay up. To observe what vibes her new home gave off at night.

Here are the things she figured out during that day:

Everyone’s names

Everyone loves each other very much(almost frighteningly)

Mark is affiliated with multiple lamps?

Julian is the mom

Emma’s the fun uncle

Julian and Emma are in love with each other

Livvy, Kit, and Ty have a friend group together

Dru is slightly allergic to babysitting

Kieran has no idea what’s going on

Tavvy is a pure soul

Cristina needs a hug

THE KITCHEN IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE OF INFRASTRUCTURE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD(as mentioned by Julian. He didn’t yell it but the undertone was clear)

Diana seems to be the only one with complete sanity(although with these kids it might disappear soon)

You may think that’s a lot to find out but Becca knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. She dozed off during dusk and awoke to yelling two hours later. She almost put on her gear until she realized the yelling sounded as if it came from arguing children. From the kitchen! The same kitchen where she kept her mugs. She scurried downstairs and took in the scene.

There was a cake, except it was now frosting-down on the floor. Livvy and Dru were going at it. They both claimed the other dropped the cake and Julian was trying to reason with the two. Kit and Ty were off in a corner, immersed in a card game that Ty was definitely winning. Cristina attempted to read a book but couldn’t stop herself from sneaking peeks at the drama. Diana simply gave everyone the “I taught you better than this” scowl. Then she saw it. Her mugs lay despairingly on the floor. She could see the cracks from a mile away. Kieran’s hair was cobalt as he was extremely annoyed. He stalked off outside.

In fact, everybody was annoyed. “What happened?”, Becca asked. She ran to her broken mugs.

Mark explained, “We made a cake to welcome you and apologize for our rudeness earlier. But one of the girls slipped over frosting and accidentally opened the cabinet leaving for a mug genocide. That action triggered another one of the girls to accidentally drop the cake. It was amazing but it’s gone now. Sorry, Rebecca.”

She glanced around the room as a chorus of “sorrys” was said. They were all sincere. Livvy and Dru calmed down; agreeing to share the blame. Becca left the kitchen with a million thoughts running through her mind. They destroyed my mug collection… but out of an act of friendship, she thought.

She went outside to take a breather. She met Kieran on the porch and queried, “How were you supposed to get back in if you can’t open the door?”

He stared at the stars and laughed without humor, “I guess I wasn’t going back in.”

“What’s got you so down?”

“I made up the idea and it backfired. You Nephilim can be so much sometimes.”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wanted this place to feel more warmer.”

She smiled, “This place is warmer. Partly because it’s California and partly because you are a really loving family.”

Kieran scanned her face, “How can you say that when we murdered your mugs?”

She grimaced at that thought but simply shook her head. “I can get new mugs. But I can’t replace memories. One day I’ll look back at this and laugh.”

Kieran nodded and gazed wistfully at the stars.

She sat next to him in one of those old-timey rocking chairs and decided to break the silence. “I feel as if I’m in a western film. All I need is a cowgirl hat and a southern accent. I’ve actually been working on one.”

Kieran raised a brow.

In an atrocious Southern accent she said, “There’s a snake in my boot.”

Both she and Kieran burst out laughing. Mark approached them, guffawing also. Between breaths he said, “That’s not a Western. That’s Toy Story.”

Becca mocked offense, “Are you telling me that you deny the existence of the most toy-based, action-packed, Western, Space-thriller animation ever created?”

Smugly he retorted, “Well maybe I am.”

Kit called from inside, “You’re both a disgrace to Disney!”

It only made the three go into another fit of laughter. When it finally died down, Mark handed Rebecca an unbroken mug, salvaged from the wreckage, full of hot, cinnamon tea. In the cool air her heart swelled and Kieran had a small smile play on his face.

Before she could thank him, Mark added, “Emma went to buy some donuts to make up for the cake. Again, we apologize.”

She exclaimed, “Well quit apologizing! What’s done is done. I’ll get over it.”

His eyes widened, “So you’re not mad? You don’t want to leave?”

“Of course not. Tonight was entertaining. I’d like to see more.”

Mark beamed and sat with the two. They talked that entire night, nothing too personal, just fun stuff. And when the donuts arrived you can bet that they let Becca have the first pick.

“What a marvelous excuse to eat junk food”, Julian teased.

Becca nudged him, “Marvelous indeed.”

But Diana constantly reminded that it wasn’t an everyday thing but she too wouldn’t miss out on the sugary deliciousness that was donuts.

[carmillatheninth]

On Kierark, Toxic Relationships, and Fetishization

I am honestly alarmed by how many people ship Kierark (not to mention Kierarktina). Tumblr prides itself on being “woke,” and yet it’s a rare blog that DOESN’T ship them. But why? It’s toxic and unhealthy. Why is it that so many people don’t see it? Well, today I’m going to outline all the reasons why this ship is messy and abusive.

Let’s start with the first place we see them: “Bitter of Tongue,” one of the Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy novels. Granted, we don’t see much of them and it makes sense for Kieran to seem unfriendly around a Shadowhunter (or rather, a Shadowhunter-in-training). But then we get this observation from Simon, “[He] could not tell if the tight grasp of Kieran’s hand was affectionate, anxiety, or a wish to imprison.” First lesson in witnessing abuse: if it looks like abuse, it’s probably abuse. Also, why would that suggestion even be there if it wasn’t a very real possibility? Sure, this seems a bit flimsy, but it’s reinforced by what we then see in The Dark Artifices.

Let’s move on to Lady Midnight: The very first interaction we see Mark and Kieran have is when Kieran leaves him a note in an acorn saying, “Remember, none of it is real.” He knows Mark is in a fragile state of mind and he knows how much Mark has missed his family. And what is his response? Tell him it’s not real! That is a classic example of gaslighting. And we immediately see the impact it has, as Mark believes it and has a set back.

The next significant moment is when Mark, Emma, Julian, and Cristina go to the Lottery and Kieran follows and meets Mark in the coat closet. He spends the entire time guilting Mark for doing THE VERY THING MARK WAS SENT THERE TO DO. He’s mad Mark is spending time with his family and trying to solve the murders, even though he knows Mark only has a limited amount of time to do so. Mark immediately turns apologetic, EVEN THOUGH HE DID NOTHING WRONG. This is a manipulation of Mark’s emotions and further gaslighting.

Shortly after, Kieran spies on Mark and Cristina and gets jealous that they’re literally just having a conversation. The second he gets a chance to do something (Mark letting a faerie secret slip), he immediately sells Mark out. This is fucked up for two reasons: 1. Kieran reveals he thought Gwyn would force him to return to the Wild Hunt (and thus, Kieran). This is incredibly selfish and completely takes away Mark’s choice. If Kieran cared about what Mark wanted, he wouldn’t have tried to take away his choice. Even Julian, who would do ANYTHING to keep his family together, doesn’t do that. Kieran only thought about what HE wanted and fuck whether or not that’s what Mark wanted to (remember, at this point, no one knows what Mark will choose). 2. HE SOLD OUT THE BOY HE SUPPOSEDLY LOVES KNOWING THERE WOULD BE SOME KIND OF PUNISHMENT. We know, given that Kieran admits it and faeries can’t lie, that his only goal was to get Mark back. He didn’t give a shit about Gwyn’s secret being slipped. It was just a convenient turn of events. HE SOLD MARK OUT FOR ENTIRELY SELFISH REASONS. In doing so, he betrayed his selfishness and Mark’s trust.

And then, of course, there’s the infamous whipping scene. When Julian volunteers, Kieran ACTUALLY AGREES TO THIS. Defenders say he doesn’t view family the same way, so he wouldn’t understand that this was wrong. BUT, faeries know what family means to Shadowhunters and, more importantly, Kieran knows damn well what Mark’s family means to him.Therefore, THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR THIS. He doesn’t even feel guilty for what happens; he’s just upset Mark no longer trusts him and even hates him (I’ll provide more proof of this later).

Parallel to this, another pattern emerges: Kieran supports Mark’s insistence that he’s a Shadowhunter until other Shadowhunters are around. Then suddenly, he’s only a faerie. This has a very possessive air to it; Mark can only embrace his Shadowhunter side when it doesn’t threaten Kieran’s claim on him.

And now we get to Lord of Shadows: The first we hear of Kieran, we discover he has murdered Iarlath for whipping Emma and Julian (very clearly to try and win Mark back over). At first glance, it seems that he’s trying to make reparations. But, consider this: Iarlanth would never have whipped Emma and Julian had Kieran not sold Mark out. He still isn’t taking responsibility for his part in that day, showing he doesn’t really feel guilty (here’s that proof I promised). He’s just upset he doesn’t have Mark anymore.

But, let’s be fair, Mark does something alarming here too: his first instinct upon finding out Kieran is going to be executed is to refused to help him. He says he knew Gwyn wouldn’t let it happen, but then Gwyn never even shows up to the rescue. Perhaps, maybe, he didn’t really believe Gwyn would save Kieran. You want one half of your ship leaving the other one to die? Okay, then. And then, Mark only goes when Zara calls his honor into question the same way Gwyn did when he refused to help. HE’S DOING IT TO PROVE HE HAS HONOR. In what world is that a good thing in a relationship?

After the rescue, we come to the point where Kieran agrees to speak before the Clave and must swear fealty to someone. He swears fealty to Cristina and ACTUALLY TELLS MARK HE DID IT TO SPITE HIM. Even when he doesn’t remember witnessing Mark and Cristina getting close, he STILL pulls this shit. (Now would also be a good time to point out that losing one’s memories does not equal character development or redemption. If he does’t remember what he did, he can’t redeem himself from it. It also begs the question: why remove his memories in the first place? The Unseelie King didn’t know anyone was coming to rescue Kieran (let alone his ex), so what was the point? To try and trick us into thinking Kieran is having character development? Well, it didn’t work.)

Okay, let’s call Mark out for something again: he lies to Kieran about the break up so he will help him. While Mark had legitimate reason to not trust Kieran and it was for a very good cause, this is still a messed up thing to do. And it’s certainly not the kind of thing healthy relationships are built on.

Next, let’s get to the sex dream scene. First of all, it should be noted that, even when Kieran is making Mark have a sex dream about him, Mark is still thinking about Cristina. That’s telling, to say the least. But let’s get to the real issue with this: Mark tells us that Kieran used to do this for him in the Hunt, “but this time was different.” BUT THIS TIME WAS DIFFERENT. But what’s difference between those times and this one? Easy, Mark wanted it those other times, but not this time. KIERAN FORCED A NON-CONSENSUAL SEX DREAM ON MARK. No, this is not technically rape. But Kieran had zero consent and Mark clearly felt less-than-good about it. This is a VIOLATION. THIS IS NOT OKAY. Even if, as some people have said, Mark is the one who made it sexual, Kieran was still the one awake and in control of the dream. He knows Mark is asleep and therefore cannot consent. Either way, THIS IS A NON-CONSENSUAL VIOLATION.

Speaking of things that are not okay, Mark tells us something else about he and Kieran’s Wild Hunt days. They used to have terrible screaming fights. If this wasn’t unhealthy enough, we find out none of them were ever resolved because they just devolved into (presumably) sex. They had terrible, horrible fights that they NEVER RESOLVED. This is so very clearly toxic I can’t believe anyone can overlook this.

Remember when I said Kieran doesn’t care about what Mark wants? I have more evidence of that. Mark tells Kieran he’s not sure about their relationship anymore and asks for some time and space. And what does Kieran give him? Not time and space, that’s for sure! Yes, they’re both stuck in the Institute, but it’s really not hard to avoid someone in an Institute. This was Kieran once again ignoring Mark’s wishes and doing whatever the fuck he wants. At the very least, this is disrespect. At the very worst... well, would you want your significant other to do this shit?

“But they can’t keep their hands off each other when they’re together!!!” Hate to break it to you but PHYSICAL ATTRACTION DOES NOT MEAN THE RELATIONSHIP IS HEALTHY OR NON-TOXIC. People are attracted to people who are bad for them or who treat them badly ALL THE TIME. It is no where NEAR enough to base an entire relationship on, especially when it’s so unhealthy in so many other ways.

And all this brings me back to my original question: why do so many people still ship this? If it was a guy doing this to a girl, you’d all be up in arms. Not only that, but you claim you want good same-sex rep and yet ship things like this. Newsflash: same-sex relationships can be abusive, unhealthy, and toxic. They aren’t automatically perfect by virtue of being same-sex (and before you make any assumptions (as Tumblr is wont to do), I am a lesbian).

I can only come to one conclusion: you don’t really care about same-sex rep at all. You just have a fetish for white M/M relationships. And that pisses me the hell off. If you cared about same-sex rep, you would ALWAYS call it out when it’s unhealthy. (And no, I don’t think that was the point Cassie was trying to make, as she seems pretty hung up on them. But I think it’s clear she shares your fetish because we have countless Malec stories (of course, Magnus is Indonesian, but it’s still M/M) and keep getting Kierark content, but no Haline content. Interesting.) I am absolutely disgusted with “fake woke” Tumblr, only caring about things when it doesn’t interfere with their ships. Honestly, if you can read this whole thing and STILL feel okay with shipping Kierark, don’t call yourself an ally. You’re not. You just fetishize the M/M experience. 

I have the terrible feeling that Cassie is not only going to go through with Kierark, but force Kierarktina down our throats. But I will never stop being vocal about how toxic, unhealthy, and abusive this ship is. I hope I’ve woken some of you up to the reality of this ship (remember, everything I listed was CANON FACT), but I won’t hold my breath. 

UPDATE: So, I finished QOAAD and I have some additional comments. I’m not saying Cassie read my post and decided to retcon all these issues (for all I know, QOAAD was finished before I wrote this post). What I AM saying is the way Cassie addresses the issues I laid out in this original post is, quite frankly, bullshit. (Spoilers ahead.)

I don’t think Cassie knows how to write a redemption arc. Kieran’s redemption arc is made entirely of retconned canon, instead of actually showing him change as a character. Let’s begin with the only bit not related to his relationship with Mark and Cristina.

Apparently, Kieran was a very kind prince to his subjects. I know he’d been sent to the Wild Hunt because the Unseelie King viewed him as a threat, but this makes no sense with his character. Prior to this, Kieran has pretty much never been shown as being selfless or kind to anyone. Kieran says he did was kind for selfish reasons, which makes more sense to me. But then every character around him insists that he was kind because he cares, despite there being literally no evidence of this. 

What pissed me off the most was when Mark said Kieran sent him that “Remember, none of this is real” not in Lady Midnight to comfort him. Mark says he remembers Kieran whispering that to himself while in the Hunt to help him cope with the horrors. 

The problem is this doesn’t line up with what happens in Lady Midnight. When Mark receives the note, he has a breakdown. It sets back all the progress he’s made reacclimating to life with his family. He doesn’t connect it to anything he’s heard Kieran say before. He doesn’t even remember it at any point along the way. Mark literally never brings it up until Kieran finally admits he was wrong to do that. You can’t just say “Oh, I knew this was what you really meant all along” when your canon disproves this. If this was what Cassie had meant to be the truth all along, she would’ve addressed it far sooner.

Another instance of this is when Mark claims Kieran told Gwyn that Mark shared his secret with Cristina to “save his life.” But... from whom? Mark isn’t in danger from his family. Cristina shows no sign that she’s going to kill Mark and use the information for her own purposes. Gwyn wouldn’t have known Mark shared that secret unless someone told him. So how is Mark’s life in danger? How is Kieran going selling Mark out to Gwyn saving his life? 

Remember how I said memory loss isn’t the same thing as a redemption arc? Neither is a magic pool that forces you to experience the pain you’ve put others through, and thus develop empathy. It shouldn't take this much for a supposedly good person to realize they’ve hurt people. This is such a cheap tool to further a redemption arc, and all is does is undercut any of that “progress.” Cassie is basically saying that Kieran never would’ve realized he’d hurt people without magical intervention and that is... not encouraging.

This makes even less sense, because Cassie was already setting up a more believable redemption arc. Kieran agrees to still testify before the Clave after he realized Mark had lied to him in Lord of Shadows. Why throw away a natural redemption arc in favor of something that makes your character seem void of empathy without a magic mirror to the soul?

Cassie has every character suddenly praising Kieran and talking about how much he’s changed. Even though he’s not really that different. But we’re expected to believe that Julian has just forgiven him? Julian Lives-And-Breathes-Vengeance Blackthorn? Cristina gets to speak for Emma and say she’s forgiven Kieran. That’s not for her to say. 

I’m just saying, it’s not a coincidence that Emma being pro-Kierarktina is on page 666. 

Mark forgiving Kieran makes sense. Mark letting him back into his heart is out-of-character. Cristina finding Kieran attractive makes sense. Cristina suddenly falling in love with him is out-of-character. 

Do you know why Herongraystairs works? Because all the characters have genuine chemistry and you can clearly see why they love each other. Cassie literally has to spell out why Kierarktina works. This means she doesn’t show it well enough. Which means they fundamentally don’t work as a polyamorous relationship. As Emma repeatedly refers to the relationship as a “hot faerie threesome,” it just feels like more fetishization on Cassie’s part. 

So, even though I knew this was going to happen, I’m still disgusted and disappointed. I even tried to keep an open mind, but Kieran’s redemption arc just does not work. Why should I want a character who doesn’t feel empathy without magical assistance anywhere near Mark and Cristina? If Cassie had really worked for a redemption arc, maybe it could’ve worked. I probably still wouldn’t have liked it, but I could’ve somewhat accepted it. 

Honestly, after all the shit he pulled, the only redemption arc I would’ve accepted was Kieran sacrificing himself for Mark, Cristina, and the Blackthorns. It would’ve had more impact and the characters could’ve actually reflected on real character growth, rather than insisting to the reader that Kieran has changed. 

So anyway, fuck Kieran. Kierarktina really kept me from loving this book as much as the first two. All three of the characters involved have to be out-of-character for the relationship to work. And I just can’t support bad writing like that.

[smartphone-science]

For the second time this year I had the opportunity to return to one of my favourite countries – South Africa. There are many reasons why I love this beautifully diverse and naturally rich country, but the main draw for me is the wonderful people and of course, the high diversity of chondrichthyes – 204 species, to be exact.

When heading to the Western Cape this time, I knew that my experience was going to be different. Previously I’ve become accustomed to working with enormous charismatic species – namely great white and bronze whaler sharks – but this time I would be working with much smaller, endemic species. Don’t be fooled though, these sharks are still cool in their own right – more on those later.

So where was I heading? The South African Shark Conservancy is based within the stunning Old Harbour of Hermanus and was founded in 2007 by shark scientist Meaghen McCord. Their flagship programme, Women in Shark Science, was my reason for working with them this month and is in its third year. With the aim of giving a louder voice to women in STEM, alongside training the next generation of shark scientists, it was set to be an inspiring month. My main goal in participating in the programme was not only focused on gain further experience in working with sharks, but also to gauge a deeper understanding of the challenges facing women in STEM and to develop my practical skills like teamwork, communication and project-management.

But it was so much more than that for me.

For the purposes of this blog post I’m going to give you a quick overview of our schedule. A considerable amount was packed into the four weeks, including BRUV deployment in Walker Bay, estuary monitoring in the Klein River,  endemic catshark telemetry and Q & A sessions with various prominent women in shark science like Melissa Cristina Marquez and Alison Towner. Phew! And that’s not even covering half of it.

Working and living together is not without its obstacles - let’s not underestimate that. As someone who is incredibly independent and has become habituated to working alone, personally this aspect was always going to be hard. But every challenge has a silver-lining and self-reflection is a critical component of better yourself – if you’re not growing, you’re not moving forward, right?

This internship has not only given me a variety of practical skills that will make me become a better shark scientist, but I also feel like I’ve grown personally as a result. Heck, I’m not perfect, nor am I striving for perfection, but I am learning to be more realistic about not only my strengths, but also my weaknesses. Being surrounded by so many people who were willing to be open and have upfront conversations is something I had never encountered prior to this placement, and I can honestly say it was a very healthy environment to be immersed in.

In future blog posts I’ll discuss in more depth the awesome science we did during our month with SASC and delve deeper into the fantastic diversity of life that exists in Walker Bay. But for the purposes of this post I wanted to summarise my personal feelings and reflections as a result of the programme and a few lessons I’ve learnt along the way.

1.       Imposter Syndrome is a VERY real phenomenon

Prior to this experience I felt like imposter syndrome was that ghastly elephant in the room no one discussed.

It was something nearly everyone I knew suffered from, but no one wanted to admit.

Chatting to not only the SASC team and the other Women in Shark Science ladies, but also other scientists made me realise that it is far more rife than the world lets on.

I made a promise to myself when I finished this experience that I would be more open about my personal imposter syndrome in an attempt to showcase that it is perfectly normal to feel that way, particularly within academia.

So yeah, I have imposter syndrome, so that’s now out there in the world…

2.       It’s okay not to be okay

I’ll let you into a secret – I’m a crier. Like a MASSIVE crier at times.

Once those waterworks start, they do not stop for a considerable amount of time and most of the time it’s over irrational things.

Sometimes I hate myself for crying so much over seemingly futile things, but with time I’m coming to realise that it’s just part of being human. Nobody is an emotionless robot, no matter how much they may try to be.

Having the occasional cry does not make you any less professional nor does it make you a failure, so just let it all out.

All of your feelings are valid.

3.       Women are strong as hell

And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Not just physically, but also emotionally they are mind-bogglingly resilient.

Hearing from women about their personal struggles, on top of the barriers life has already thrown at them, and their defiance to not let anything get in their way of achieving their shark science dreams was inspiring to say the least.

Don’t underestimate the challenges experienced by everyone you meet.

Almost everyone is fighting a battle of some kind, you’re not alone.

4.       Academia can be ruthless

Exhibit A – I got rejected from a PhD for my A Level choices.

Exhibit B – a friend of mine was rejected from a PhD for having a 1% lower average in her undergraduate degree, despite having a MSc with distinction and multiple years of infield experience.

I could go on.

It can feel like you’re scrambling against the world sometimes when you’re trying to make it within academia, particularly as an early-career scientist.

I often feel like I’m drowning and I consistently have to prove myself like everything’s a competition, but this isn’t a healthy perspective to have and can often bring out the worst in people.

It’s hard, but try to take it all in your stride. As much as life is short, it is also long, and you have plenty of time to achieve all of your hopes and dreams - just don’t leave your family and friends behind, they’re the most important people in your life.

5.       Patience really is a virtue

I remember my mum telling me this as a teenager and I ignorantly ignored her at the time.

Not everyone is on the same wavelength as you and that’s perfectly okay.

Often it can seem like you’re continually trying to hit goalposts other people have laid out for you as you hit certain milestones in life, but we are all on our own path.

Support each other and celebrate wins, no matter how big or small.

Relax, breathe, and enjoy the ride.

It’s easy to be hard on yourself and overly critical when the world is seemingly so unforgiving. I think it’s important we open the discussion on the human element of being a scientist and be brutally honest with each other – it isn’t just about how many papers you publish, or the competitive grants you’ve won, or the incredible fieldwork opportunity you’ve got coming up.

Yes, they are all awesome things and definitely something to be celebrated, but I feel it’s also important to document our losses and talk about when times are tough too.

Creating an unrealistic version of what life is like being a scientist in my mind does a disservice to the next generation. If someone believes it will all be rosy, and then it isn’t for them, their bad experiences have the potential to be harmful to them and their mental health.

Success isn’t a straight path. It’s full of downward spirals and the occasional breakdown sprinkled with the odd feeling of hopelessness, but when that win does come along it makes it all worth it.

We all have our own demons to fight with, so why are we still maintaining that stiff upper lip and acting like everything is always sunshine and rainbows?

via Science Blogs