#I might go back and post links to go straight to next chapters

[sissylittlefeather]

Time for...

A Very Quiet Life: Chapter 4

A/N: I know this one is kind of a bummer, and it's super short, but it's important to the storyline, so don't give up on it. Part 5 is *literally* steamy 🥵

Warnings: reader is a widow, this one is angsty, but that's about it. Sorry no smut this time, ya lil horny devils.

Links to:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Stick around... there's much more to come!

Song inspo (because now I've done it on every post, I have to keep doing it)

Aaaaaaaand gifs:

How are you going to keep yourself from getting used to this?

******

You wake up to a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Bye, baby."

"What time is it?"

"Almost 5:30. Go back to sleep." You nod your head and he kisses you softly on the lips and leaves. You hear the front door open and close quietly. The bed feels empty without him already, so you go ahead and get up. The first thing you do is change your shirt because Jane will probably recognize it. Before you hide it in your drawer, you put your face in it and breathe deeply. His smell is still there, even though you wore it all night.

You shouldn't miss him this much.

You make some coffee and sit on your front porch watching the sunrise and waiting for the kids to wake up.

Once the sun is up, you see Elvis walk out to get the paper. Your heart skips a beat and you're dying to call out to him. You don't even have to, though, because when he turns to walk back up to the house, he spots you and waves. He jogs over to you and leans against the railing on the steps up to your porch.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Elvis. We can't do this. Someone might see you." You whip your head from side to side, looking for nosey neighbors to come crawling out of the bushes.

"What? I'm just a neighbor coming to say hello." He gives you a winning grin.

"Elvis." His face falls and he looks at the ground. "When does your wife get home?" He swallows hard.

"Tuesday." Today is Sunday. "You know she travels a lot." He looks up at you hopefully.

"Not enough for us to... we just can't. I can't... I have the kids and I just... I can't." Your heart feels like it's in a vice that just gets tighter and tighter and it's taking everything in you not to cry. He looks back down at the ground and nods.

"I guess I better go home, then." He turns to walk back to his house, but then stops and turns back to you. "But if you ever change your mind..."

Just then, Jane calls from inside the house. "Mooooom!" You stand up from the porch and he turns and walks away. You watch him go before Jane comes to the door. "Mom! I'm hungry." You sigh and go back into the house to tend to the kids.

******

You spend a lazy Sunday with the kids on the couch watching tv and reading. You go ahead and give Michael the comics you've bought for his birthday next month, since he's so pitiful with his cast. He can't read yet, but he likes to look at the pictures.

Round about 3 o'clock there's a light knock on the front door. When you get to the door, you're surprised to find Elvis there. You thought you were pretty clear this morning. Before you can say anything about it though, he opens his mouth.

"I'm here to see Michael. I brought him some stuff to help his recovery." He holds up a bag. "Can I come in?" You feel bad for assuming he was there to see you.

"Sure." You open the door and he walks in and goes to the living room. When he gets to Michael on the couch, he plops the bag down between his legs and starts pulling stuff out. He has a pint of chocolate ice cream, a stack of comic books, and a model car, still in the box waiting to be built. Michael goes straight for the comics. They're older ones, but he doesn't care. He's never seen them before and he's fascinated.

"Where did you get these?" He asks excitedly.

"They were mine when I was younger. I thought you might like them." The gesture is so kind, it tugs at your heart a little.

"Should I take the ice cream to the kitchen?" You cut in, noticing that it's already starting to melt.

"Can I have some too, Mama?" Jane asks politely.

"Sure, honey." You take the ice cream and go into the kitchen to put it into two bowls. When you come back out, Elvis is showing Michael the car box.

"I know your hand is a little busted up right now, but I thought I could help you build it sometime when it's feeling better." Michael nods excitedly.

Why does he have to be married?

You hand the ice cream to the kids and they go to work eating it. Elvis stands up.

"I guess I better be going. Thanks for letting me bring the stuff in."

"Thank you for the ice cream, Mr. Presley!" Jane calls to him. Michael just grunts and nods. He's too busy eating. You walk Elvis to the front door.

"Thank you for doing that. You didn't have to--"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I want to? Can't I still love your kids even if you won't let me..." he trails off. You can tell he's frustrated with you.

"Yes. I'm sorry. We need someone like you... THEY. They need someone like you." You caught it too late and he notices. He looks at you almost hopefully and then nods.

"Well, I'll be around as long as they need me." He walks out the front door and back to his house.

******

Chapter 5 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @elvisxsposts @joshuntildawn13 @msamarican @returntopresley

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 63: Seen and Not Heard

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Sebastian finally reunited with his old friends, Ominis and Ruby McKinnon (the Hero of Hogwarts), after nearly a decade. They decide to take turns filling each other in on their adult lives. Ruby begins. She and Poppy began dating in sixth year and are now happily married. Poppy is a magizoologist, and Ruby is employed by the Department of Mysteries, conducting research on the connection between ancient magic and magical creatures. Because Ruby's work gives her a great deal of flexibility, she and Poppy travel the world together, but they're in Scotland for the summer to be close to Poppy's gran. Sebastian's turn is next, but he is unable to reveal details about his probationary work with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement due to its top secret nature. He tells them he isn't ready to share anything about Azkaban and might never be. He does, however, explain the toll Azkaban had on his mental health and self-worth. Kate also shares a little about herself. When it is Ominis' turn, Ruby and Poppy duck out to give them space. Kate decides to do the same and apparates home.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story. This chapter focuses on lost love and grief and the realization that sometimes nothing can fix a terrible situation but time.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 63: Seen and Not Heard

Ominis picks up the glass from the table, carefully swirling the liquid around and smelling it. 

“I can tell it’s a fine firewhisky. Shame I have to do this,” Ominis notes, downing all of the firewhisky as though it is just a shot. Taking a moment, he then places the glass back on the table. “I need some liquid courage, though.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows silently, studying his old friend. He suddenly remembers Ominis is blind and could not have seen his facial reaction. “For… what?”

“To tell you why your owl didn’t make it to me,” Ominis replies. “I think I know… It’s because of my last name.”

Sebastian draws a breath, recalling the cruelty of the Gaunts. “Did… something happen with your family?”

There’s a pause. “No, not exactly. It’s more to do… with me.”

Sebastian continues to look at him quizzically. “How so?”

“I don’t go by the name ‘Ominis Gaunt’ anymore,” he answers in a failed attempt to be smooth, then seems to mentally brace himself. “I’ve changed my last name.”

 Sebastian switches to firewhisky, sensing tension. “Stop being so cryptic. Just tell me.”

Ominis is quiet for a moment longer. Trying to sound as even-keeled as possible, he says, “Sebastian, we’re brothers. I… took the Sallow name… when I married Anne.”

For once, Sebastian is glad that his old friend is blind. His own eyes bulge, and a mixture of emotions plays on his face - surprise, wonder, confusion, a bit of anger with sadness. “What do you mean, you married Anne? You surely don’t mean-”

Ominis huffs. “What other type of marriage is there, Sebastian?”

An awkward, strangled kind of laugh escapes Sebastian. “Anne?” he repeats. “You actually married Anne?”

“Yes, Sebastian,” Ominis replies rather curtly. “We got married. She’s my wife.”

“But how?” Sebastian asks incredulously. “How did that happen?” He runs his hands through his hair nervously. “And you say it like she is still your wife. I saw her grave, Ominis. I saw it. She’s… she’s gone!”

Ominis winces, his face sour. “She still is my wife no matter what.”

His emotions get the better of him, and Sebastian mutters, “I need a minute.” He stands and walks straight out of the pub. 

Night has settled upon Hogsmeade. There are a few others outside, speaking in hushed voices, but the cobblestone street is mostly empty. A breeze flows by, bringing with it a slight chill. Streetlights glow against the growing darkness, and Sebastian can see a half moon surrounded by glittering stars in the sky. He gazes upon it, trying to settle his mind.

Breathe. Clear your mind, my moon, he can hear Kate whispering in his mind. Learn all you can, and we will unpack it all later.

Sebastian inhales and exhales deeply. This month - reflecting back, now that it is the final day of June - has been one of the most interesting of his life. And it is only about to get more complicated, he thinks.

He takes a few more moments to himself, then wanders back inside. He strides back to the table, settling back into his seat.

“Look, Sebastian,” Ominis begins almost immediately. “We didn’t think we would ever get a chance to tell you - you were just… gone. It was as if you had died.” He pauses. “Admittedly, I haven’t fully thought through how I might share all of this with you. Even when Ruby contacted me and told me you were out of prison, it felt… unreal. But now, here we are, sitting in the Three Broomsticks. It feels as though a lifetime has passed. I don’t even know how to catch you up.”  

“I know. I… I just want to know it all. Not knowing is the worst, Ominis,” Sebastian replies, then inquires confusedly, “I… I mean, did you always like Anne? In that way? You never told me.”

Ominis relaxes a bit and chuckles. “No, no… I didn’t. It happened later.” 

“Tell me everything. Please,” Sebastian requests. 

“You might not like everything,” Ominis counters. “I… in the last months I knew you, you were always so angry. Can you truly handle hearing it all?”

Sebastian sighs. “I know. I was a right knobhead. There’s no excuse for it, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Ominis, for all I put you through. I… I’ve had a lot of time to think. I promise I’ll never be like that again - go down that road again. You can tell me all of it, and I promise I won’t… Well, I can’t promise I won’t be angry, but I won’t… explode or anything like that.”

Ominis nods, but his face clearly betrays an internal conflict. He still isn’t convinced.

“What is it?” Sebastian asks.

Ominis takes a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you… something from way back then. I’m just not sure that tonight is the right time… I don’t know.” He shakes his head.

“I mean, we are going to see each other again… right?” Sebastian asks hopefully. 

“Of course.” Ominis smiles. “Well, you’ll see me again. I’ll never see you.” He laughs at his own joke, and Sebastian heartily joins in. 

“I’ve really missed you, Ominis,” Sebastian finally says with a grin. “I miss your sarcasm. I even miss you scolding me and telling me off.” He huffs out a laugh.

“And I, you,” his blonde friend replies. “We… Anne and I… We struggled with losing you for a long time.”

Sebastian sips his butterbeer. “Tell me about her.”

Ominis smiles wistfully. “Anne… Gods, I miss her so much. I would do anything to bring her back.” The blue pupils of his unseeing eyes focus in on one spot, as if he is staring, for a very long time, and then he sighs deeply. “Shortly after you were sent to Azkaban, Anne returned to Feldcroft. I visited a few times over the summer months, and… things were bad. She couldn’t take care of herself, Sebastian. She was in such poor spirits and so frail, so ill - and there was no one else to help. I met with Professor Black to explain the situation and ask for… a rather unusual accommodation. I requested to live outside of the Hogwarts grounds so that I could be Anne’s caregiver whilst I was still in school. To my surprise, he granted it. Two special portkeys were made so that I didn’t have to use the Floo Network all the way to or from Feldcroft. Anne was so relieved that I would be able to live with her. Obviously, I still attended classes… but anytime I didn’t, I was home with Anne. I managed her potions, brought her good, hearty meals from Hogwarts, tended to her when she went through her episodes, and went to see Healers at St. Mungo’s with her every month.”

Sebastian is enraptured, but he takes a moment to say, “Thank you, Ominis. Truly, thank you - it’s such a relief to know she wasn’t alone all those years. And to know she was well taken care of.”

“We didn’t realize it right away because Anne remained so weak and still would easily become ill, but the curse actually lifted when she turned seventeen. The Healers confirmed it after about a year,” Ominis explained.

“It just… happened?” Sebastian asks incredulously. “No one… had to do anything special to lift it?” 

His blonde friend shakes his head. “We were as surprised as you. But Ruby remembered something she had heard Victor Rookwood say at one time - that children should be seen and not heard. He said the same to Anne when he cursed her. When she came of age at seventeen, it… well, her affliction didn’t just disappear, but over time, we noticed her symptoms had become less severe and that she was no longer having long episodes. We put it all together later, and in the end, we learned that the curse had particularly affected Anne when she would experience strong emotions, speak up, or cause any kind of commotion… but only as a child. That was the curse. Children should be seen and not heard.”

Sebastian is silent, his heart pounding as he realizes that everything he had done had been all for naught. Anne’s curse had been so much more simple than he ever imagined. The hours - no, not just hours - days, weeks, months, years of studying had been pointless. Getting into Dark magic would never have solved anything… and that was what had sent him to Azkaban. Solomon was part of that, but everything with his uncle - all of the abuse - had run so much deeper beyond Anne’s curse. In the end, Solomon had been right - there really was nothing to be done. They had just needed to sit and wait - something Sebastian would never have been able to do. Victor Rookwood had ultimately, and likely unintentionally, cursed the entire Sallow family.

“Anne was still sick, so we didn’t realize the curse had lifted. The many years of illness had rendered her so weak that she truly was not able to live alone. I stayed on. I felt like I owed it to you, Sebastian… after everything… to stick by her, to take the place you would have if we hadn’t…” Ominis trails off. 

“You owed me nothing,” Sebastian commented.

“No, I owed you everything,” Ominis retorts, unwavering.

Sebastian looks at Ominis for a long time, puzzled by the comment. His brain works overtime. “Oh… because if not for me, you wouldn’t have… gotten married.”

Ominis exhales sharply in response. “I don’t know - perhaps we would have anyway.”

A moment passes between them.

“Did you actually love her?” Sebastian finally asks.

“I love Anne more than anything,” Ominis replies without hesitation. “I would give anything - anything - to see her again. I mean it with my entire soul.” 

[iviarellereads]

The Fires of Heaven, Chapter 52 - Choices

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Crescent moon icon) In which we have an exit via trapdoor.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand is making himself presentable to go kill Rahvin, the next morning. Asmo asks to go with them, to help ensure Rand survives, and Rand agrees.

After Asmo leaves, Rand comments that the world rides on his shoulders, and Avi uses the Power to pinch his butt, and remind him that he's only human.

When he leaves the room, Mat is waiting, and tells him everything that happened with Melindhra. Avi and Rand both notice that there are no Maidens outside Rand's room, and she accuses him of doing something to offend them. Rand says he's done nothing, and doesn't intend to stand here talking about it, and asks if Mat is going with them. He does, reluctantly.

Egg and Moiraine meet them in the hallway as they go to leave, and Moiraine hands Rand two letters, both addressed from her. One is for him, some things to think about when he has time, and the other for Thom, as there are no safer hands for it than Rand's.(1) She tells him there's something to see at the docks, and leaves. Rand is hesitant to waste more time, but Asmo says it might do well for him to be seen in case Rahvin has any spies in place.

PERSPECTIVE: Hadnan Kadere wipes his face with a handkerchief, sweating from nervousness as much as the heat. He hasn't fulfilled Lanfear's commands, and knows his death is coming.

He sees Rand's party approaching, but they ignore him entirely for once. He's glad, especially that Moiraine didn't look at him. Yesterday she had him strip the canvas off the wagon with the redstone doorframe. He notices with a start that there are no Maidens around the party, though.

A familiar voice asks if he's going to look at an old friend, and he swivels to see Keille. He's shocked: nobody survives the Waste alone, and they haven't seen her since [the end of the last book]. She goes into his wagon, and he follows, possibly intending to kill her. But, when he enters, he's met with Lanfear in her true form.

Lanfear demands to know everything Rand has been doing. Kadere does his best, but the likes of him can't get near the likes of al'Thor.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand is getting impatient to know what Moiraine wanted him to see. At the other end of the line of wagons, Kadere's explodes. Lanfear steps out, dragging Kadere's skin, removed whole.(2) She screams that he told her Lews Therin let another woman touch him again.

Time slows down and speeds up all at once.

Before Lanfear steps onto the quay, Moiraine lifts her skirts and runs straight at her, at full speed. Lanfear knocks her aside with the Power. The quayside is in turmoil. Aiel run at Lanfear, but she walks toward Rand like nothing else exists.

Three heartbeats later, Rand seizes saidin, and puts out the fires Lanfear has started. Lanfear demands to know which one it is, as Rand becomes aware of Egg and Avi on either side of him. He knocks them down, determined to keep Lanfear from hurting either.

Lanfear staggered, her eyes going from the women to him, dark pools of black fire. “You are mine, Lews Therin! Mine!” “No.” Rand’s voice seemed to come to his ears down a mile-long tunnel. Distract her from the girls. He kept moving forward, did not look back. “I was never yours, Mierin. I will always belong to Ilyena.” The Void quivered with sorrow and loss. And with desperation, as he fought something besides the scouring of saidin. For a moment he hung balanced. I am Rand al’Thor. And, Ilyena, ever and always my heart. Balanced on a razor edge. I am Rand al’Thor! Other thoughts tried to well up, a fountain of them, of Ilyena, of Mierin, of what he could do to defeat her. He forced them down, even the last. If he came down on the wrong side . . . I am Rand al’Thor! “Your name is Lanfear, and I’ll die before I love one of the Forsaken.” Something that might have been anguish crossed her face; then it was a marble mask once more. “If you are not mine,” she said coldly, “then you are dead.”

His heart feels fit to explode, white-hot nails drive into his brain, he feels death coming for him, though he resists. Lanfear tries to sever him from the Source, and he channels through his angreal to make the link large enough to delay her. He knows he can't bring himself to kill a woman.

PERSPECTIVE: Moiraine crawls out from beneath a wagon. She finds Lan, and thinks in vague terms of her preparations to save him after her death.

The sight of Lanfear, framed by the redstone doorframe, hits her like a hammer, seeing what she's seen so many times in her dreams since Rhuidean. She sees Lanfear's angreal bracelet, and hopes Rand has his own angreal so Lanfear can't just destroy him outright.

Moiraine was slight, a small woman. Her weight did not disturb the wagon at all as she pulled herself up. She winced as her dress caught on a splinter and tore, but Lanfear did not look around. The woman had dealt with every threat except Rand; he was the only corner of the world she acknowledged in the least right then. Suppressing a small bubble of hope—she could not allow herself that luxury—Moiraine balanced upright a moment on the wagon tail, then embraced the True Source and leaped at Lanfear. The Forsaken had an instant’s warning, enough to turn before Moiraine struck her, clawing the bracelet away. Face to face, they toppled through the doorframe ter’angreal. White light swallowed everything.(3)

=====

(1) I've been debating how much to say about this one for longer than you might suspect. But, considering how a couple of first-time readers pick up and ship it like [shipping carrier of your choice here]… Look, a lot of people miss this on their first read, or forget about it, and since they've only really had about three scenes where they exchange words directly, and only one on-page alone, it seems WEIRD, right? But, she's made a lot of allusions, saying she knows the face of the man who would be her husband to the wondergirls and such, even before her trip through the question-doorway, after only visions from Min seeing them come into Baerlon that first time… I say this all so you won't be surprised when this letter disappears from the narrative and comes back someday when it gets across to him. Or maybe you'll forget this too, and it will be all the more a surprise. Nobody thinks this is well established as a love story, not even the ones who ship it, so at least we're all near the same page. (2) Byeee Kadere, you weren't shit. (3) So, all Moiraine's morbid allusions have not been for naught. She saw this as a likely outcome, and saw an opportunity to take out a SECOND Forsaken single-handed. Even if she had to give up her life to do it. And goodbye also to Lanfear, exit stage trapdoor.

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 7)

Links:

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

The rhythmic swaying of my deskmate's walking does anything but put me at ease. My heart thumps faster with every step he takes away from the perthean co-principal's office, my last link to the safety of the human undercity. I wipe the tears from my eyes in a hurry, lest the boy see me cry and start to worry. Fear or no fear, I just can't put that pressure on someone.

I hesitate to look up at the boy, fearing he might be looking at me himself. Luckily, he's not focusing on me... until he is. We lock eyes, and the world starts to spin again. My vision begins to blur with tears, and I rush to blink them away before they fall. The boy smiles at me and lets out a little laugh, completely oblivious to how hard this is for me. Well, at least I hope he's oblivious.

"So," the boy says, "are you nervous?"

"N-no!" I exclaim defensively. Can he feel my trembling? Can he see my tears? How did he figure out I'm afraid?!

"No?" The boy asks, cocking his head. "Not even a little?"

"No," I reiterate. "I... I'm not nervous."

"Hmm. Well, I'm nervous," the boy says.

I blink. Him? Nervous? What does he have to be nervous about?

"You are?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, scratching his cheek with his free hand. "After all, having a deskmate is a huge responsibility, so I don't want to mess this up. I thought you'd have it worse, since you're basically entrusting yourself to a stranger."

My cheeks get hotter. How did he know?

"Well, maybe I'm a little nervous," I say, looking away.

"So the truth comes out!" The boy says.

Oh, no! What have I done?! I straight up told him I'm scared! What if he's angry?! What if he wants to hurt me?! My heart skips a beat as I hug my trembling frame and look up at the perthean boy. I expect to see furrowed brows and gnashing teeth, but instead I'm met with soft, smiling eyes and a big grin. Confused, I let my shoulders relax a bit and raise an eyebrow.

The boy lifts me up to his eye level, far too close for my liking. He's so close, I could reach out and touch his face if I wanted to. I scoot back.

"Well, Ms. Finch," the boy says, "you have nothing to worry about as long as you're with me! Okay?"

My heart keeps pounding and pounding! He's still so close! I nod slowly, and he seems to accept that as an answer. He brings me back to chest level and continues to the auditorium.

As we enter the auditorium, I find myself shaking my head in disbelief. I'm not able to fully comprehend what I'm seeing. This room is way, way bigger than Mrs. Hudson's office! It might even be bigger than Maedri's undercity railway station! For a human like me, it must stretch on for miles and miles!

My deskmate comes to a stop right in front of a seating area at the back of the auditorium. There's so many pertheans! My blood runs cold just looking at them all. Some of them are sitting alone while others are talking to the humans they've been paired with. I wish my deskmate would hurry up and find a seat so that I don't have to keep staring at all these people!

After a moment, my deskmate starts up the stairs. He keeps going and going, until finally, after what feels like forever, he reaches the very top of the stairs. He walks all the way to the end of the row by the wall and sits down.

"Now," my deskmate says, "do you want to stay in my hands or should I set you down?"

Finally! I can get out of this perthean's hands! The standalone balcony between the rows of chairs is just within reach!

"Y-you can set me down," I say, struggling to hide my eagerness to get out of the boy's hands.

The boy sets his finger in front of me as he did before. I stare down at it, once again in complete awe of how big it is compared to me.

"Are you going to grab on?" The boy asks when I don't move.

"S-sorry," I say, grabbing onto his finger, "I didn't sleep much last night."

"Me, neither," the boy says, lifting me up from my place in his hand.

My heart pounds in my chest as I once again dangle helplessly over a drop that might just kill me if I were to lose my grip on this boy's finger.

Relief washes over me once I'm set on the balcony. At last, solid ground! I look to the wall beside me and see an opening that leads back to the human part of the school. If I wanted to, I could run away. I could go home. I know that I can't, but it's a comfort to know that if I needed to, I could at least try to get away from this perthean.

"So, um..." the boy starts, rubbing the back of his head. "The weather is nice today!"

I look back up at him and blink. "I live underground, you know."

"Oh," he laughs nervously. "Right."

I pull up a chair, and we sit in silence for a moment. I stare down at my hands, which are resting on my lap. I can't keep eye contact with this guy, and I don't dare look at any of the other pertheans in the room, so I keep my head down.

"Um... can you tell me about yourself?" The boy asks.

I look up at him, unsure why he's so desperate to keep talking to me. "I like to draw," I say. For some reason, I can't think of anything interesting about myself at all.

"Cool," the boy says. "I like to study languages."

"That's nice," I say.

And again we sit in silence. The cycle goes on—my deskmate asks a question, I answer it, he answers it, and we sit in silence. I didn't think having a deskmate would be this awkward. After at least twenty minutes of this, I start to wonder if this is worse than what I imagined having a deskmate would be like.

"Attention, everyone! We will now begin our orientation," Ms. Clemmons exclaims.

As I turn my seat around, I see Mrs. Hudson clutching one ear, while Ms. Clemmons stands on her shoulder. I don't know if I've ever met a human that could shout that loudly. That must have hurt for Mrs. Hudson to hear.

Mrs. Hudson clears her throat. "Thank you again everyone for arriving on time, and for your patience during the deskmate pairing process. For those who haven't met me yet, I'm Mrs. Hudson, your perthean co-principal, and this is Ms. Clemmons, your human co-principal."

Mrs. Hudson and Ms. Clemmons cross their right arms over their chests and lean forward. Mrs. Hudson only leans forwards slightly, since Ms. Clemmons is on her shoulder. After they finish bowing, more pertheans with humans on their shoulders come stand to the left and to the right of Mrs. Hudson and Ms. Clemmons. Mr. Day, the human nurse, is accompanied by a perthean woman introduced as Mrs. Emaeya, who is wearing a black blouse with a white cardigan. Mrs. Wright, the human gym teacher, is accompanied by a perthean man introduced as her husband Mr. Wright, who is wearing a shirt and tie like Mr. Day.

"We look forward to assisting you this school year," they all say, bowing as Mrs. Hudson and Ms. Clemmons did before.

"Now," Mrs. Hudson says, "when our school first opened in 2500 RE, our founders had a goal in mind—that being to teach responsibility and foster friendships between pertheans and humans in an environment where both can flourish together academically."

2500? I wonder if my grandparents went to this school, too.

Mrs. Hudson goes on to explain why deskmate schools are a good idea. Something about learning more about each other's kinds and the proper forms of etiquette at a young age. As she's talking, I can't help but feel like my deskmate is staring right at me. Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine! Trembling, I turn around only to see my deskmate staring straight ahead at Mrs. Hudson. A shuddering sigh escapes me as I return my attention to the co-principal, only for that same feeling of being watched to return.

After a few minutes of the co-principals telling us all what's expected of us, such as sticking to the proper forms of handling etiquette, maintaining communication with our deskmates, and being on time and all that, they announce that it's time to split up for a tour of the school.

Great. More being held, I assume.

"Ms. Finch," my deskmate says. "Do you want to try shoulder etiquette this time? Like the teachers are doing?"

"N-no," I say, hoping the boy doesn't notice my reddening cheeks. "That's okay, what we were doing before was fine."

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

My deskmate and I were forced into a group and shown around by the co-principals. They showed us how the classrooms look, with their auditorium style seating spaced out so that everyone, including humans on pertheans' desks, can see the teacher.

They showed us the library, which had seating areas where humans and pertheans can study together, as well as an entire study area just for humans with its own dedicated library. It had an escape, or rather an entrance, leading back to the human part of the school that I was all too eager to get to.

My deskmate had something to say about everything we encountered, and wouldn't stop asking me for my thoughts about the tour. Because I was in his hands, every word he spoke reverberated through my entire body, and I couldn't stop shivering because of it.

After the library, our group split in two to see the parts of the school for our own kinds— things like the gyms, showers, washrooms, and cafeterias. And that leads me to now, reluctantly following Ms. Clemmons through the halls of the human part of the school to a place called 'the pickup area,' which must mean I'm going to have to go back to being with my deskmate. Yippee.

"Take care not to crowd the balcony," Ms. Clemmons says as we exit the human halls. "Make sure everyone has room to get to their deskmate. After all, tomorrow there will be five hundred of you on this balcony."

As I step through the double doors and onto the balcony, a crowd of pertheans fills my line of sight. I almost forgot how tall they are! I begin to shake as one after the other approaches the balcony to fetch their deskmates. Knowing one of them is going to come for me causes my legs to wobble uncontrollably and my hands to tremble. I try to calm myself down by taking a deep breath, but a whimper comes out when I exhale. I inch to the back wall, unsure of what I should do. I don't want to go back to my deskmate! I pull out my phone, hands shaking, and try to look busy while I wait for the crowd to die down.

"Phones away, please," Ms. Clemmons says.

I look up to see her raising one eyebrow at me as she pushes up her glasses.

"Isn't that your deskmate?" She asks, pointing to a perthean boy standing by himself near the back of the room, rubbing one arm as he stares into space.

I reluctantly approach the edge of the balcony. I'd call out to my deskmate if I had the courage, but I don't even remember his name.

After a moment or two, the boy's eyes meet mine. Everything stops. All I can hear are his footsteps pounding the ground as he approaches me. I scurry backwards and nearly trip over my trembling legs. I look up at the boy as he reaches the balcony with a big smile spread across his face. The sight causes me to lose my grip on my phone, and it falls out of my sweaty, quivering hands and onto the balcony floor.

My deskmate frowns. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"S-sorry," I say, picking up my phone, "I didn't sleep much last night." Wait, didn't I use that excuse already?

As I'm lifted up from the balcony, I can't help but wonder what Dad was thinking sending me to this school. I'm never going to get over this stupid fear! I can't even look my deskmate in the eye without shaking uncontrollably!

My deskmate smiles down at me once I'm in his hand. Surrounded by fingers just as big as I am, it finally settles in. I'm small. So small.

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

"That just about wraps up our orientation!" Mrs. Hudson says. "Don't forget to show up early for attendance, which is at 8:00 am sharp!"

It doesn't take long for everyone in the auditorium to start talking amongst themselves. Some get up to leave, and I'm eager to do the same.

"Wow, over already? That went by so fast!" My deskmate says.

His voice startles me. How did I forget he's right behind me? How could I forget he's right behind me?

"So," the boy says, "what did you think of orientation?"

"I-it was fine," I say, standing up and collecting my things.

"What do you think you'll like the most about this school?" He asks.

"I don't know," I say, thinking back on the tour. There wasn't really anything that stood out. "I can't really pick just one thing..."

"I liked the library," the boy says. "I can imagine us studying together there a lot!"

"O-oh! That's nice," I respond, trying to shake away thoughts of having to study with a perthean. I don't think I'd be able to concentrate on the schoolwork. "Um, sorry to cut this short, but I have to get home. My dad is expecting me."

"Aw, really? We were just getting to know each other!"

"Yeah, b-but I'll see you tomorrow!"

I bet Dad could care less what time I get back to the apartment. I bet he'd be thrilled if I were to stay and chat with this guy all day long and didn't come home. I'm about to start walking away when my deskmate interrupts.

"So, do you live far from here?"

Do I live far from here?! I'm not about to tell this perthean where I live!

"I-it's not that far," I say, turning to leave.

"So it's a bit of a ways?" The boy asks with a frown.

"It's okay," I say, "I like walking!" I scurry away before the boy can ask me anything else.

"Oh, you walk?" He asks. "You don't take a train?"

I stop. "Yeah, my dad keeps telling me I shouldn't be complaining because he had to walk farther to school when he was my age. I really don't mind the walk, though." I turn towards the exit in the wall and make haste towards it.

"Are you really okay walking by yourself?" My deskmate asks.

"Y-yeah! I'll be fine, don't worry!" He better not be about to ask me what I think he is! I hurry even faster to the exit.

"What I mean is, considering we're deskmates now..."

The exit is right there! Please don't ask me!

"If you want me to, I could walk you home!" he says.

I stop dead in my tracks in front of the exit, my blood running cold and my entire being trembling with fear. "Th-that's okay," I say. "I'm fine with walking."

"Are you sure?" The boy asks. "Because I wouldn't mind it—"

"I said I'm fine!" I run away as fast as my legs can carry me, around the corner and down the stairs. Free at last.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi Nalyra, love your blog and all your great insights on the show and the books! Years ago I read all the books up to The Vampire Armand, and I know I'll need to do a reread before any of the later books will make sense. I was wondering which books you consider "essential" for connecting to the show (and for making sense of later books)- I've already reread IWTV, and have TVL and QOTD waiting on my shelf. I vaguely recall not caring for TOTBT or MTD, so I might skip them and go straight to TVA which I remember liking too. Which others would do you think are must reads? I'm sure you've addressed this already, so a link to a previous post would be great, thanks :)

Hey!

Glad you like!

Okay, so this is my recommendation, since we are not THAT far away from the next season anymore^^ (and I don't think I've listed it like that yet^^):

Read "The Devil's Minion" chapter in QotD. The rest of the book will likely be on at a slightly later stage. But that chapter is important, and can more or less stand alone, because there are only a few things which relate to the story of the book.

Read "The Vampire Armand" next. There was an IG story back then, which had "Andrei" on it, Armand's real name. So we will likely get flashbacks (even if they're short). And also the things that... pertain to Louis and Claudia are rather important, as the BTS photos have indicated. (Also Armand's story is truly quite interesting). And of course, there is a high chance we'll get to see Marius in s2, too, soooo...

THEN read Merrick. Claudia's diary and a HUGE character reveal as well as the likely cliffhanger of s2 is in there. (Unfortunately) It is narrated by David, and Anne really managed to make him... well. David. 😬 But there is a rather important Loustat moment as well, and from Anne's notes we know she originally planned that scene with Armand(!) so that might be changed "back" in the show!

The later trilogy (Prince Lestat on) you can read later. MTD isn't really important other than something like that might have happened (already), we'll see. I mean, Rolin has stated he takes from PL, buttttttt I think the hooks for that (there are some, imho) will be revealed at a later stage. (Also, Antoine(tte) is revealed to be alive in that, but that is also a standalone chapter, if you want to read it.)

So in preparation for s2 I would go for the above.

The rest of the books are not "necessary" at this point, though of course QotD will be important at some point. And then, maybe in combination with the threat of PL and PLatRoA, but you will have enough time to catch up in-between^^.

And I think the threat of Blood Communion might be threaded through, however the Loustat arc concludes there, so I think that is where they will end up, eventually, if we get our seasons. Since their dance is from the end scene of that book, I think they foreshadowed that with it.

Have fun reading!!

(And: Don't shoot me for making you read Merrick, I know a lot hate that book^^ But I think you will know why I said it's important when you get there^^)

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 5 Escape - Baneful Royal (Kylo Ren x Reader)

[A/N] so the last time I had posted for this fic, it was a hot minute ago. And when I say hot minute, I mean about close to a year. SO with that being said, here is the 5th chapter. This one was kinda hiding underneath a bunch of commission files so finding it now was very nice. If you would like to read more Kylo fics from me, I have a Masterlist link in my bio, as well as a A03 and wattpad under the same name. Thank y’all for reading <3

There was no time to feel guilt. 

There was no time to feel anything. 

You were ushered without a thought. Running on autopilot, the disturbing sounds of a city thrown into chaos were drowned out with your focus elsewhere. Cate’s arm was looped into yours, the cloaked figure of Kylo walked in front of you without assistance or care. The deed was done, and the next step was approaching soon. 

Pushed into a carrier, it wasn't until you felt the deep rumble of the ship coming to life that you finally came back to the present. Seated and strapped in, you glanced around you to see Cate at her place behind you. On her side, two guards of Ren stood like stone, waiting patiently. For what, you didn't know. 

Voices spit out necessary actions for takeoff, with a confirmation greeting. A captain’s seat sat in the middle, with Kylo planted firmly. With each acknowledgment of action, he nodded. A shake, and you were off into the air and into the atmosphere. 

“What’s happening now?” You turned to Cate. “Where are we going?” 

You knew of your certain protection, but nothing else after. Had you left when the Colonel told you to, maybe you wouldn't have been labeled a possible enemy to the planet. Gone off quietly, you might have still been on Naboo. You showed yourself rather idiotically. With a hand out in offer, any chance of going home was thrown out the window. 

Cate looked straight ahead blankly, ignoring your asking gaze.

“I said where are we going?” You asked. Ignored, you watched as Cate’s pupils flashed quickly to her side, towards the knights. Turning back in your chair, you realized. You sabotaged her mission, and any other advice or word could further deepen a possible and serious “demotion”. 

Watching as Naboo faded away in the side windows, you were startled with Kylo's sudden announcement. “On our arrival, we are to ignite engines for light speed on route to Coruscant immediately.” 

“This wasn't part of the plan.” You said aloud, shocked. “I didn’t agree to this part.” 

“Then what was, councilwoman?” Kylo called to the reluctant voice. “Had you listened, we wouldn’t be taking the actions that we are now.” 

“I wonder with whose help.” You spat back. The newly deceased governor was right. There was an argument wherever you went. 

“The option to go back and drop you off is always open. But, I hope you realize that actions will have consequences.” He stated, almost tauntingly. “It would be a shame to see your head on a spike.” 

“A favor was given for the good of the people.” 

“They won’t see it that way.” He sneered, leather glove squeaking. “The truth is soon to come out. Where are you going to go when that does happen?” 

It was best to shut up. 

With many to witness, the assassination of a government official was without a doubt a high profiled crime to commit. To accompany the ill news, the revelation of a colleague and former head of state with her hand in his murder would surely send embarrassment to the planet. More harm was caused than good. 

Maybe it was the smartest idea to escape. 

You shut your eyes tightly as you the grim thought of Abie and Sara finding out. You lied to them both. Hatred was a driving factor, but not murder. You prayed that they could one day forgive you. It was probably going to take a long time to do. 

You saw the faint reflection of the Finalizer bounce off the glass panels, indicating your destination was close. 

“The Supreme Leader’s secondary vessel requesting permission to dock, copy.”  

“Permission granted.” A modulated voice rang out. “Prepare to unload.” 

The last First Order ship you had visited was nothing compared to this. The vast high ceilings towered over all, with as many small ships docked neatly into the walls. Officials ran amok, hurrying to finish a job or to clear the way. The ship jostled as it landed, causing you to tussle in your seat. 

“Wow.” You whispered. 

“I believe it is time to disembark, councilwoman.” You heard Kylo say, taking off his seatbelt. You did the same, standing up as gracefully as you could. 

You felt the faint brush of Kylo’s cloak graze your leg. Standing next to you, but not fixated on you. His presence felt overpowering, like he had done this many times before. The adrenaline was still rushing in you, garnering you to shake and quiver slightly. 

As the hatch opened, you saw two single file lines on either side of stormtroopers. They stood with their blasters in hands, looking straight ahead in respect. As you inched forward, you caught eye of a special trooper. Tall and donned in shining silver, this stormtrooper was like no other. A black cape hung over one shoulder, with a red line trimmed on its hem. With no eyes to look into, you could only imagine what kind of a being they were. Their air was grand, big shoes that were filed with fear and respect. 

“Welcome back, sir.” They said to Kylo. Their feminine tone was evident in their voice, clear and orderly. You had no thoughts, except one. If they are a she, then that is one big woman. 

Still in awe, you almost missed the silver commander’s next question. “Have we acquired the subject?” 

“Affirmative, Captain.” Kylo replied, walking next to her. 

“Hold on, subject?!” You called out, still two steps behind them. You tried to rush to Kylo, desperate for answers. Before you could reach him, gloved hands pulled you by your forearms and held you back. You glanced at them both, visors staring down menacingly at you. With Cate’s footsteps echoing off the ramp, the image of her strode in front of your person. Still blank. 

“You are to be escorted onto the ship until we hit lightspeed.” Was all she said before turning and joining Kylo. 

Your head dropped. All of this felt fake. Nothing of it felt real at all. Not even an hour ago, you were home. With a skip in your step about the future and being free of the thorn in your side, only to be replaced with another. Slowly and painfully, it was going to be hard to dig this one out. 

A First Order vessel. Shooting out of the sector and into the inner Rim. The death of a political official and your life as you know it. All within a short amount of time. The time to process it began as you were escorted out of the hangar and into the ship itself. 

You felt like you were hit with a ton of bricks. 

The hallways bustled with every employee of the Order, rushing to unknown locations. The memo of lightspeed must’ve been ordered quickly. All of their heads were down as you passed them, averting their eyes from walking cloaks of darkness on either of your side. 

You clasped your hands in front, careful to take note from those around you. You glanced up at the Knights, whose boots clanked almost like the Supreme Leader’s. There was emptiness to their step, like strictly programmed droids who were on the way to the next task. 

“Are you both allowed to talk to me?” You asked, looking up at one of them. They continued in silence. “I see. Maybe a vow of silence.” 

You felt the need to press further. It looked like a risky attempt to talk to monsters carrying you to your death. Risky, or maybe sad. 

“Those weapons look menacing. Serious damage to anyone that crosses you.” 

Silence. 

“Good, I didn’t want to talk to you bucketheads anyways.” You muttered, rather disappointed from the one sided talk. 

You heard the same leather squeak from them like you did with Kylo earlier. You looked down at one gripping his weapon rather tightly. You swallowed, yet taking another que. At least it relieved some of the stress you were carrying, saying that. Sad that they were in your path of insult, but then again, you would swiftly be met with a blade in your throat. 

The tight hallway grew to a broader area, full with more First Order personnel. Stormtroopers guarded every corner, standing at full attention. The knights beelined you to two sets of blast doors, with people bustling about. Most walked in and out, in pairs or with a holopad in hand. When coming into their sight, there was another hush among them. But this time, there were slivers of notice. Gawked at wasn’t new to you, but the setting was. 

The blast doors opened, revealing the bridge of the ship. Various stations were hard at work operating the ins and outs of the ship’s defense and operation. So focused, there was no acknowledgment of your presence. There was a quick conclusion that if they were looking anywhere besides their screen, they would be shot on sight. 

Ahead of you were the giant windows out looking at Naboo. It felt like a screen, seeing your home from miles above the surface. Growing bigger as you were walked further in, you couldn't help but tear up just a little. 

These conflicting feelings of justifying your dark deed for the good of the planet and your own wounded morals clashed against one another, fighting for the dominance of your stand. You had sickened you, the need to fill your own selfish gain. Moment of passion destroyed your life as you had known it. Now it was time to pay the consequences, but stubborn as you were, it was going to be hard to accept it. 

“You are to wait here. Our Master will join shortly.” One Knight croaked, voice startling you out of your moment of sentiment. 

They backed up some, keeping their distance. The blast doors opened again, this time the flamed hair general jaunting towards you. You flipped around, taking in a deep sigh. Bound to be on an official First Order ship, you had to at least expect to see him sooner or later. 

“Ah, councilwoman.” He shot you a grim, wide smile. “We meet again, under some unfortunate circumstances.” 

“Unfortunate, indeed.” You replied, gripping your hands tightly. “Where’s the Supreme Leader?” 

“Oh come now, at least give me a chat.” He feigned disappointment mockingly. “After all, this is my setting, my domain. I am more than welcoming.” 

“I’ve been told, or rather talked over, that we are to be out of this sector any minute now.” You said. “The Supreme Leader cannot possibly be holding out on an escape.” 

“I wouldn’t call it an escape, councilwoman. However, we may just have a chance at some resolution to the chaos that put us here in the first place?” Hux raised his brows. 

You tried to read his face to see if it had some truth. You silently hoped that you weren't being pushed into another set up. Peace with Naboo was what you so desperately strived for. It would calm your worried mind. If it meant that you could never return to maintain harmony, you would take it. But not without heartbreak. 

“Then let us try.” Hux finished, turning his back to you as he continued with his recent assessment for departure. How acutely they all listened, hanging on to every quip and jeer he threw out in his words. Still able to take orders under such stress, unlike you did. “Annoying as this inconvenience is.” 

“I did what I did for a reason. You would too if you were pushed so far.” You snarled back. “Would you have done it too?” 

Hux glared at you, his face changing so slightly. Eyes softened, almost to sympathize. Human as you both were, maybe it did cross his mind of holding himself out from the rest. He glanced up. The doors opened and Kylo glided in. The scowl came back and so was the top general of the First Order. 

“I give commands and follow orders.” He said. “I see no reason for such emotion.” 

“It's a proper system for a machine to work. There's a purpose for it.” Kylo followed up, his helmet still on. “But we are not droids.” 

“And you encouraged it.” You said to him, staring into his dark visor. “I'm not the only one at fault here.” 

“Who said it was not the right thing?” You heard Kylo said lowly in his helmet. Moving closer to you, his voice was soft enough to not be picked up by the vocoder. “Put trust in that decision, (Y/n).” 

Biting down on your lip, losing your focus on him. 

“Put trust in me.” 

A beep sounded off loudly on the bridge. “This is the Security Force of Naboo requesting urgent communication with your vessel.” 

Breathing in deeply, you felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest. Thumping loudly, rhythmically against your rib cage, you would rather your heart did some damage right now. Anything to avoid this, avoid your betrayal. 

“Stay here. Leave communication to us.” Kylo said. “You will not move from your spot, unless I say otherwise.” 

“I will not move from this spot unles you say otherwise.” Aghast at the loss of control of your body, your feet planted where they stayed. Frozen once more. 

“Holograph transmission, sir. Permission to accept?” A controller asked from their position. 

Permission granted.” 

Kylo and Hux stood in front of the transmission circle, their fronts lighting up with the familiar blue light. You drew in your breath as you saw the Queen, standing solemnly with Abie at her side. The Queen conveyed a deep seriousness you knew deep inside her. Dormant, having been cast aside when the council had done it for her. It wasn’t the childlike display of fear that was present. No. It was the face of a proper monarch, ready to take on her new challenge for her people. 

“Appearance is everything,” you told her. “They won’t just take your words into consideration.” 

For a brief moment, the creeping anxiety of your situation disappeared. In its place, was pride. Just for a second. Abie, on the other hand. A different story. His anger seethed off of him, being well seen from almost everyone on the bridge. 

“Your Majesty, to what we owe the pleasure of your company?” Hux said. 

“There is none, General. I would like to be told of the reason for my urgent return to the palace, with my home in disarray and chaos. Our Governor slain and my councilwoman nowhere to be seen.” She proclaimed. “Even with our arms open to your presence in our desperate hour, we are repaid with nothing but hardship.” 

“Although a controversial decision, your majesty, it was the right one.” Kylo began, taking over for Hux. After all, who wouldn’t want to hear the murderer tell his side of the story? “Let's face the clearer picture. Governor Sillin was a joke to Naboo. A laughing stock to the galaxy. So in fairness, the First Order did what was the preferable outcome.” 

“Did this outcome happened to include the disappearance of Councilwoman (L/N)?” Queen Revisalla snapped back, her tone grew sharp. “Full control is what you strive for, then so be it. But I ask, no I demand that she be returned alive and unharmed.” 

“I see.” Kylo replied, feigning a deep thought. “I’m afraid I cannot allow for the release of her into your hands.” 

“And why?” Revisalla asked, the tension from her and Abie grew even more. “This is beyond ridiculous. To capture a government official and a former monarch is a serious crime.” 

“That does not matter to us, as you can tell your majesty.” Hux cut in, clasping his hands behind his back. “We did ask for full allegiance in order for help from our forces. Young as you are, do try to take a smarter route and think of this as a small price for our assistance.” 

How badly you wanted to break free of your place and take down Hux as well. You wouldn’t need a saber for this, only your bare hands. 

“I understand your emotions, your majesty. “Kylo stepped forward. “There is a shared understanding when something dear is taken away from us. It becomes a driving force, our mindset. Sometimes for the better.” 

You gazed at the queen. Her eyes glanced down, in deepful thought. It wounded deeply as you saw her face drift into each possibility and hard decision. Everything was spilling over. Whatever was to happen next was going to determine your place. Your life was on the line. And so were the million lives on the planet. 

“I will not back down without a fight for this.” Revisalla spoke clearly. “We will bring her back, with your help or not. I will see to it that she is returned home alive.” 

Your breath was knocked out of you. There was a vague idea on what kind of response that would be. 

“So be it.” Kylo said. 

“As you left us no choice your majesty, we must do what is necessary.” Hux proclaimed, turning to the rest of the bridge. “All personnel to their stations. Deploy the TIEs. Let's make sure the message is sent.” 

“Yes, sir.” The voiced response was swift, echoing in your ears as the worst had to come. Still frozen to your spot, there was no way physically that you could try to stop this. But you were going to try. You heaved as you struggled to move. The fight response in you cried out to be released. 

“Wait, no!” You screamed. Suddenly, as if to be let off a chain, you stumbled forward. Catching your step, you rushed to the hologram, panting. Revisalla took a sudden intake of breath, surprised. So did Abie. Shaking your head, you held up your hands. “You don’t want to do this. Please do not do this.” 

“Halt the deployment of TIEs.” Hux commanded. Your adrenaline dropped in relief. 

“Is your safety compromised, Lady (Y/n)?” The queen asked you. Abie’s appearance could’ve looked just like yours, relieved but shaken. 

“No, I’m fine. I’m okay.” You breathed. “I beg your majesty to listen. One person to an entire people, it cannot happen.” 

“Excellent point.” Hux mumbled. 

You ignored his remark as you tried to find the right words. “I am not worth it. If this is where my path leads me, this is where I stay. I need you to understand that.” 

Revisalla swallowed, her fingers slightly tugging on her long sleeve. Not only were you talking to her, but to your heartbroken friend as well. He looked down, so still you thought the hologram was frozen. 

“I understand. Efforts in the future to retrieve your person will be permanently terminated.” Strong and loud, you felt the tug of loss. You were now officially a subject to the First Order. 

You nodded. 

“Before our communication is severed, there is something I need to ask of you.” Revisalla added. “There are words of your involvement in the death of the governor.” 

You felt Kylo’s presence flair behind you. His air taunted you as the cold truth was about to be let loose in the open. This was a moment that he was waiting for, as if he was waiting for the downfall of your life. 

“Is there truth to this?” She finally said. 

You looked back at Kylo. As it pained you to say, this truly meant there was no way to return back to home. The tie would be forever severed. The planet would be safe. Abie and Sara would be safe. The queen will be safe. And maybe peace will find its way back to Naboo, with a brighter future for everyone. The one you so longed to see.

“Yes.” You replied firmly. “I killed Sillin.” 

Abie’s shoulders fell in defeat. Revisalla nodded solemnly. The disappointment from both of them radiated strongly.“I-“ 

“There you have it, your majesty. Loud and clear.” You were cut off from Hux. “It is now time that we make our departure from the sector.” 

“I bid you all farewell.” Revisalla’s tone was monotonous, professional. Just another goodbye to visiting “diplomats”. The hologram faded and you were left with the sight of Naboo once again. 

[cloudninetonine]

Hi!! Ok so this might seem a bit nonsensical so if it is I’m sorry but I was just going through a 2000s club music rabbit hole and I stumbled upon that one Japanese water commercial that Beyoncé did (here’s the link):

https://youtu.be/I2w2cyCdZZA?si=zFzbVZz8S-w62qej

Idk why I just thought it was so funny cuz imagine if Player gave the chain mobile phones for some inexplicable reason and then sent this link to Legend with a bullshit caption like “this MIGHT be Koholintcore” and then he spams them back with a crazy amount of death threats or sumn. I have a feeling he’d be super creative with them. like. think Tupac dissing Wendy Williams-type vulgarity. and then Player would just. like… not read them (they actually do and then they and Wind wheeze about it together and then they pretend they didn’t read them just to screw with him). and then reply with gamepigeon 8-ball or sumn. Poor Legend’s head would probably explode. Lmao 💗. Idk why I thought of this but it just seems so in character and frankly I need more Player AU memes in my life. They add TANG‼️

Anyhoo! Just wanted to let you know that I LOVE your fic and can’t wait for the next update (no rushing at all tho like be kind to urself bestie) if you couldn’t tell I adore your player and I’m a good sucker for enemies to lovers so ofc your player/legend dynamic is badaboom for me. I can really feel that even though things are *relatively* chill now after that last chapter, it really feels like things are starting to ramp up in intrigue, and we’re only on chapter 14(I’m assuming there’s gonna be shittons more cuz you said on a different post there would be at least 20 or sumn more chapters). So exciting! ✨✨✨

THIS IS THE MOST RANDOM THING EVWR AND YOU BETTER YOUR FUCKING ARSE ITS PLAYCORE

Instead of replying with the pool game straight away, idea that Player just goes "I ain't reading all that shit." Then sends it NFMWNZN AAAAA

Also thank you so much! It always brings me joy knowing people like reading! Things are definitely ramping up now and I'm so excited to start putting my own twists and such for future endeavours Player's gonna have to go through.

[torreshalstead]

Your eyes in my life - Chapter 13

Summary - The night of Kim’s final layover as a flight attendant ended with a one night stand with a stranger she met across a bar.

6 years later, that same stranger walked into the 21st District and was assigned as her new Rookie and her life was thrown upside down. She hadn’t seen Adam since that night in LA. But she saw his eyes every day. In the eyes of their daughter.

Chapters - 13/?

Chapter Summary - Adam knows about Annabelle so now it’s time for Kim and Adam to have the conversation that’s been 5 years coming.

Notes - Really excited we’ve got to this point! Unfortunately this is also when I tell you that I’ll be taking a break from posting this story until the first week in June, I go on vacation next week and won’t be back until then. I made this chapter a little longer to make up for it so hope you enjoy! AO3 Link

Kim didn’t even try to stop the tears from spilling, she just tightened her arms around her sleeping daughter and hoped that Trudy and Kev would take their time before returning with dinner.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen.

She wasn’t sure how it was supposed to happen, but she knew for certain it shouldn’t have been like this. She had blindsided him, she hadn’t meant to but she had. He had found out perhaps the biggest news of his life out of the blue and yet… he had acted so graciously. She was sure if she had found out something equally as earth shattering, she wouldn’t have been able to hold it together like that, to smile and to say it was okay.

She knew it wasn’t okay, Kim was under no guise that it wasn’t okay for Adam to have found out like this. She should have told him the moment she saw him on that first day in the district, but it just didn’t seem right. To give him this giant piece of news on his first day in a new job. To potentially give him the shock of his life. Hell it had been a shock to her when she had found out so goodness knows how he would have been expected to handle that. It was a big enough shock for her to be assigned as his Training Officer, she knew that.

Maybe she should have told him when they first went out for drinks, but he had opened up about his dad and she had spoken about her experiences as a female cop, it just didn’t seem right. It was nice to just be Adam and Kim for a bit, not a TO and a Rookie, not someone keeping a secret from someone else, he was even flirting with her and she liked it. If she had dropped this on him then maybe he would have stopped flirting, maybe he would have run, maybe he would have yelled. But he had a right to do any of those things, and she had taken that away from him.

She ran her hand over her, their, sleeping daughter's hair. She had wanted to tell him, after the case with the two young girls. He had been so good with them and she could see it, him being a father to Annabelle, him looking after her like he had looked after Emma. But then Annabelle had gotten sick and she had had to run out. Then they were thrown straight into this case.

There had never been a good time. This was potentially the worst time; she was shot, confined to a hospital bed and he had had to figure it out himself. She had known as soon as he saw Annabelle he would know, those eyes told him everything he needed to.

She would explain it all, she thought, explain how she had wanted to tell him, why she didn’t, what had happened. He deserved to know all of it, and so did she, she looked down at Annabelle, she had a father who could be in her life. If he wanted to be. But did he even want to be?

He never asked for this, he never asked for any of this. What if he wanted nothing to do with them now? What if he wanted to run away, never see her or his daughter again? What if he blamed her? Blamed her for keeping his daughter from him for the past 5 years, could she blame him if he was angry? He might be furious at her. How would she explain to their daughter that the reason her father wanted nothing to do with her was because he hated her mother? Hated her for not giving him a choice in this.

But how he had looked at her, looked at Annabelle once he had realised. There was only love in his eyes, Kim could see that. His smile was warm, it was true. He wouldn’t walk away. She knew Adam Ruzek well enough to know that he wouldn’t walk away from them, either of them. He would be the best father he could possibly be, and Kim knew he would be a wonderful father to Annabelle, he would make up for every moment of lost time. And they would never lose a moment again.

Then another thought struck her, what if he wanted every moment? How would it work? Would they share custody? Would he want more than that? To make up for all the time he had missed, would he want to take Annabelle from her? Could he? Kim’s mind was spinning, every possibility a jumble in her brain.

She took a deep breath, one step at a time, she would take this one step at a time. First she had to talk to him about it, explain. And then she would talk to Annabelle. And then they would meet, meet for the first time as father and daughter. If they both wanted to that was. She wasn’t going to force Adam to be a part of Annabelle’s life, but she also wasn’t going to force it upon her daughter. She would explain as much as she could, in terms that a 5 year old could understand but she would also listen. If Annabelle didn’t want to meet Adam just yet, then it was up to her. Kim knew Adam would understand that, he was one of the most understanding guys she had ever met. He wouldn’t want to make Annabelle uncomfortable, she knew it would hurt, hurt Adam, hurt her, but if that’s what Annabelle wanted then that’s what they would do.

And then whatever comes next, comes next. She couldn’t predict that, it was all out of her control. But for now, she could sleep, at least that was in her control. She was tired, exhausted even. She would sleep and face it all in the morning.

She shuffled down the bed slightly, pulling Annabelle in tighter, getting them both comfortable and closed her eyes. She was asleep before Kevin and Trudy returned, not hearing them slide in quietly to the room and leave the food on her table. Trudy taking a seat in the chair and Kevin saying he would be at the end of the phone if she needed him.

She didn’t hear Adam arrive the next morning, pastries still warm in a paper bag, coffee in hand. Didn’t hear him pass one over to their sergeant and promise to get them both home safe. Didn’t hear Trudy thank him warmly, and say goodbye, leaving Adam alone with the two asleep in the bed.

But when she woke, she was greeted by a warm smile, a warm coffee and a warm Danish.

‘I didn’t know what you and Annabelle would like, so I just got a selection. I hope that’s okay,’ Adam said with a smile from his seat in the corner. Kim didn’t know what would happen next, but she could tell from his smile that it would be okay.

Annabelle stirred next to her and both adult’s eyes fell on her then met in the middle. They both knew the conversation would have to wait for a little longer, but as she looked into the eyes of the man who had brought them breakfast without them asking, she knew he didn’t mind. He would wait for however long it took. But she wouldn’t make him wait much longer. Once Annabelle’s sitter picked her up, it would be time.

——————————————————————————

It didn’t take long for them to be left alone in Kim’s apartment. As promised, Adam had driven both her and Annabelle home once Kim had been cleared by the doctors. She had introduced Adam to Annabelle as just Adam, someone she worked with. It was all she could do for now, all other explanations would need to wait but Annabelle had still grinned up at Adam and held out her hand for him to shake, introducing herself as Annabelle Marie Burgess. Kim had seen Adam’s eyes glaze over for just a second at the introduction. Kim guessed it was at the realisation that he had helped create the wonderful little girl, someone who was confident and polite. She hoped it was also pride she was seeing in his eyes, just a little.

Lia had picked up Annabelle just 8 minutes after they had returned home, just enough for the little girl to change her outfit, grab her backpack and be herded out the door, yelling love you to her mother as she did so.

Once the door shut, Kim felt the shift in the air. All the delaying, all the excuses, they were over with now.

��Want a seat?’ She offered, gesturing to the couch that was pushed against the wall. Adam nodded without saying a word and took a seat, Kim joined him a second later, her movements still slow from aftermath of the shooting.

‘I’m sorry,’ she started, ‘sorry it’s taken me this long to tell you.’

She wasn’t sure what she expected his reaction to be, but all she saw was sadness in his eyes, and that was the last thing she thought she’d see reflected back at her. Anger, sure, shock, maybe, but sadness, it hadn’t been on her radar.

‘Just tell me one thing before you say anything else,’ he said, his voice a little more hoarse than it usually was. Kim imagined he had barely slept at all the night before. When Kim nodded he continued, ‘did you keep her from me because you thought I’d be like my dad? That I’d be a bad father?’

‘No!’ Kim said, slightly louder than was necessary given how close they were sitting but she needed him to know that that was never a thought in her mind. ‘Not at all Adam, I don’t think you’re anything like your father. I think you’ll be a wonderful father to her, I really do. I didn’t mean to keep her from you, I just…’ she paused. ‘I just didn’t know how or when to tell you.’

‘Okay,’ Adam said, his shoulder’s visibly relaxing. ‘I get it. Well I don’t,’ he chuckled slightly, ‘But I’m hoping I will do in a bit.’ Kim should have known that would be his biggest fear, the fear that she had made a conscious decision to not tell him because she thought he wouldn’t be up to the task, that he’d be like his father. But she could see nothing of the man he called his father in Adam, they couldn’t be more different.

‘And I’ll tell you everything, and anything I don’t, just ask, please Adam, just ask me anything.’ And with that, she started, she started from the very beginning.

And to Adam’s credit, he just let her talk. She hadn’t planned what to say so her story was a little jumbled, she was sure she was missing bits out but she tried to explain. She explained how she found out she was pregnant, thanks to Trudy Platt. How scared she was, and how she thought about trying to contact him but had no idea how to get in touch or even what his last name was. She explained how she had contacted the bar but it had closed down and no one had any records so after that she decided she would just do it alone. She would work hard to give Annabelle everything she would receive from two parents, just by herself.

She told him stories of when she said her first word - mama. When she took her first steps; just straight across the room when Kim had been on the phone to Kevin and she had screamed down the phone to him so loudly that he had driven straight over thinking she was in trouble. She told him how she had cried the first day she had gone to Kindergarten but how proud she had been when she came home and told her all about it, about the friends she had made, the teacher she had and everything she had learnt.

‘She’s a talker, that’s for sure,’ Kim said with a chuckle.

‘You’ve done an incredible job Kim, she’s wonderful,’ Adam said warmly, glancing over at her, tears ghosting in the corner of his eyes.

‘And then you showed up at the 21st and it was like the ground was disintegrating under my feet,’ Kim said, realising they had got on to the part of the story that Adam probably cared the most about. The reason it had taken her until today to let him know he had a daughter. ‘You were the last person I expected to see walking through those doors.’

‘You were the last person I expected to see when I did,’ Adam said with a small chuckle.

‘You threw me off my game, I really didn’t know how to act or be around you knowing that I had this secret that was so large,’ Kim admitted. ‘I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know how you would react. Wanted to find the perfect time, which I obviously didn’t,’ she said bashfully.

‘Every time I thought about telling you, something else would come up or I couldn’t find the right words, and for that I truly am sorry Adam. For making you wait a moment longer to find out the truth, you didn’t deserve that,’ Kim dropped her head, the guilt of the situation starting to bubble up inside her.

‘I know now though,’ Adam said, his voice still void of any of the anger that Kim had expected. ‘And that’s what matters.’

Kim nodded slowly, ‘is there anything else you want to know?’

‘Does she know about me?’ He asked after a moment.

‘No,’ Kim shook her head, she swore she saw his heart break slightly at her words. ‘She knows that her father is a friend of mine that I don’t get to see very often. She’s never asked much about you yet, lots of her friends are from single parent homes so I think she’s just taken what I said and hasn’t thought more about it.’

‘Well I guess that’s the truth,’ Adam said slowly.

‘But I’ll tell her now, I don’t intend to keep her in the dark but Adam I have to say, if she doesn’t want to meet you in the context of being her dad then I’m not going to force her,’ Kim said, glancing up at him, unsure of how he would take this additional twist.

‘No, I don’t want to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to, she’s her own person,’ Adam said quickly, shaking his head, and Kim couldn’t help herself, she reached out to hold his hand. He flipped his over and laced their fingers together and she felt him squeeze gently.

‘But I’ll tell her tonight, and then if she wants to see you, you could come over for dinner tomorrow?’ Kim suggested.

‘That sounds perfect,’ Adam said with a smile. ‘I can bring over takeout?’

‘Then you’ll definitely be her favourite,’ Kim chuckled.

‘That was my plan all along,’ Adam said, laughing lightly with her.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly, staring down at their joined hands.

‘What for?’ He asked curiously.

‘For giving me her, she’s my whole world,’ Kim said quietly, feeling him squeeze her hand again.

‘I think she’s about to become mine too,’ Adam murmured, Kim felt her heart melt slightly at his words. The pair fell into a comfortable silence, sitting hand in hand on her couch.

That was the first difficult thing done, Kim thought, and it had gone better than she thought. But now she had to tell their daughter, and if she was being honest with herself, she had no idea how she was going to react. She would find out in a couple of hours, she only had that long to figure out how she would tell her. Tell her that her father was the man she had met that day, and that he wanted to see her, wanted to be a part of her life. It was a lot to tell a 5 year old, but she deserved to know. And Adam deserved to meet his daughter, and meet her as her father, not just Kim’s colleague.

‘Do you want to see some of her photo albums?’ Kim offered after a while. She never expected Adam’s face to light up like the fourth of July when he nodded, but she felt a warmth in her stomach when she got up to collect the albums, the reason for which she wasn’t quite sure she could put her finger on. But she didn’t mind, having him there, talking about their daughter, glancing through pictures, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

[alfgifu]

Fic analysis 15. Holding out for a hero

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48820009

Word count: 3,811

Chapters: 1

First posted: 24th July 2023

Summary: 

A scarlet mantle redder than the rose flares around tall shoulders; a sky blue tunic stands bold against the night sky; a wild thicket of hair, black and grey and gloriously free, streams out in all directions like a halo - this man has a harp in his hands, and a song on his lips - and a sword at his belt - and he strides over the threshold in a flurry of golden magic that ripples and flows like lava.

Cliopher does not know this person - he does not think he knows this person - he cannot see who this person is, and the pegs are screaming in his mind - he almost does not hear the words, but they resonate on every level so that even his pegboard sings them back to him: "WHERE IS HE?"

(In which the denizens of Sky Ocean should have known better than to kidnap Cliopher Mdang of Tahivoa, however clever and helpful he might be as an ornament to their demesnes.)

How and why this came about

In time honoured fashion, a conversation on discord led into sketching scenarios, which expanded into a livefic.

This was the first time I had liveficced an entire story and it happened entirely on impulse and over a time when I was supposed to be packing to take the kids on holiday. It was the epitome of ‘now I can have some fun’. The thrill of getting near-immediate emoji responses to individual paragraphs was amazing, as was the joy of writing something where the plot was simple and the story was about the ridiculous drama of the situation.

When I finished I was very short of time and knew my internet connectivity would be limited for the following week, so the tidy-up phase was minimal and the title was chosen at random.

I was both surprised and delighted when one of my favourite authors chose to pick up on the heavy hint I’d left in the chat about being open to anybody else taking it forward. 

What worked and what didn’t

Writing fast and in short sections worked well with leaning into the drama of the whole situation. Keeping it in the present tense was new for me but it also worked with the urgency of the story.

Working quickly and staying close in Cliopher’s pov in this situation led to an even-higher-than-usual density of dashes and half-sentences. It works, sort of, but it’s certainly not how I would write this story if I had set it up in a gdoc. It’s also not how I would livefic now. These days if I’m liveficcing I mostly write until the comment box is full and then start the next at once.

What I learned from writing it

I’ve sometimes felt in the past that I needed to ration good bits of worldbuilding, or not let go of an idea or a story because I liked one element even when the other parts weren’t working. This story was all about throwing caution to the wind and throwing in the best or most extra thing I could think of and seeing what happened.

The phenomenon of holding back in case something is too good and you can’t do it again is foolish when you look at it straight on, but it’s easy not to look at it. One of the things I’ve learned over the whole adventure of writing fanfic is that there are always more ideas and more stories than I have time to write. Some of them will be better than others. Some of them I’ll execute better than others. Some of them more people will like reading than others. But the correct filter is for quality, not quantity: write the thing that compels you most in the moment and write it to the best of your ability, and try not to worry about what happens next.

[squeamishnerd]

The Brights

Chapter 18: Learning, Part 1

← Previous part Next part →

Link to master post with all chapters

⠀

Ned: Hi, sorry for intruding at this hour, but I've had to study so much lately, I barely have time for anything else.

Travis: No problem, it's nice to see you.

⠀

Travis: So, you're here because you wanted to talk?

Ned: Yes, I thought that maybe you could help me understand something...

⠀

Ned: ... since you might know more about it due to having two same-sex partners.

⠀

Travis: I don't think I like where this is going. But continue.

⠀

Ned: A few months back I was talking with Beren, and somehow I trust him enough to bring up woohoo related things, but then I kinda assumed that men who are only interested in men woohoo in one specific way, and-

⠀

Travis: Okay, wait, I'll be right back.

⠀

Travis: Apparently I need to talk some sense into my brother, and due to the subject I'm quite sure that he wouldn't want you two to overhear, is it okay if-

⠀

Summer: No worries, we can go for a walk.

⠀

Liberty: It really feels like autumn is passing by faster this year. It's getting colder so quickly.

⠀

Summer: Are you trying to say that you want to go back inside to get a hoodie, or that you want me to keep you warm?

⠀

Liberty: The latter.

⠀

Ned: I just have to ask… Since when do you wear your nails painted?

⠀

Travis: Since Liberty started to paint them. Don't you think it makes me look like a rock star?

Ned: Not really, no.

⠀

Travis: Okay, so let me get this straight… You told Beren, who's only interested in men, that you think there's only one way for two men to woohoo together?

⠀

Ned: Well, I implied it. And I assumed it applied to him.

⠀

Travis: You can't just assume things like that!

⠀

Ned: I assumed because I don't know what else there is to do.

⠀

Travis: Are you aware that sims have hands and mouths?

⠀

Ned: That counts as woohoo?

⠀

Travis: Of course it does! We had the exact same woohoo education, how do you not know this?

Ned: Too focused on the biology I guess.

⠀

Travis: I can't believe that I have to explain this to my older brother… Look. Who you're attracted to doesn't decide what types of woohoo you like, and what types of woohoo you like doesn't say anything about who you're attracted to. And a lot of things "count" as woohoo.

⠀

Travis: You know, only because of your narrow ideas of woohoo I kinda hope that you'll find the most unusual partner that exists.

⠀

Ned: Like what? A bot?

⠀

Travis: Nah, think more unusual.

⠀

Ned: But… Who, or what, would that even be?

Travis: I don't know, but I hope you'll find them.

⠀

← Previous part Next part →

Link to master post with all chapters

[lostlastsforever756]

The Rise of Stella Gibson: Part 1

Section 1

Section 2

Section 3

Author’s Note: The Stella Gibson backstory that no one asked for!!! The idea of the story was to show the events of Stella’s life that made her into the woman she is today, obviously starting with the death of her father. So, the story line goes from that point in time, up until she decides to be a police officer.

Rating: M (mentions of suicide, and death)

It’s an open casket wake, followed by a burial. Stella isn’t sure who made that decision, exactly, but as she gazes upon her dead father’s beautiful face, she can’t help thinking it was a mistake. Her mother managed to find some time in her schedule between work and her active social life to attend, standing regally in the corner as silent tears stream down her cheeks. Her father’s coworkers and her own family take turns giving their condolences, but not one of them says a word to stony-faced Stella, who only has eyes for her father. It’s just as well, though, because Stella probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a voice and a gunshot. Since she found out, the world seems to have faded into a dream.

Suicide. The doctor’s note on his desk confirming the brain tumor to be inoperable.

In his note, he only addressed Stella. He said he was sorry, but somehow his apology wasn’t enough. No matter how many time he could have written it, it didn’t change that he was leaving for good.

Stella and her mother take their place in the procession out of the church, behind the casket and just before the rest of the guests. Her mother holds her head up high, showing off her tears, her hands on Stella’s shoulders. Stella keeps her eyes in front of her, trained on the flowers placed so carefully on top of the casket.

“Stella for Star!”

He pops his head around the corner and gives her a small smile. She returns it, but barely.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says.

“Why so melancholy, Little Star?” he says, stepping into the doorway.

“What does melancholy mean?”

“It’s a posh word for ‘sad’.”

She makes a slightly dramatic sigh. “I’m sick, Daddy. I don’t feel good.”

“I’ve got just what you need,” he says, smiling.

He pulls his hands out from behind his back, and in them he holds a bouquet of flowers. He places them gently on her night stand, and moves a few stems about, almost as if he’s fluffing up the bouquet like a pillow.

“They are pretty, but, Daddy, how are flowers supposed to help me with this flu?” she asks, squinting a bit, and coughing.

“You know flowers make oxygen, right?”

Stella nods.

“Fresh air will make you feel better, Star, no better medicine than nature,” he says, and pats her head, “Plus, a little color in this room couldn’t hurt.”

The car door slams shut just as Stella pulls her feet in. She can feel her mother sitting next to her, fixing her make-up, apathy for the situation rolling off her mother and towards Stella in waves. Her first set of feelings come to her for the first time in days, a dull ache in her chest, manifesting into something she can’t quite put her finger on. She shakes slightly as the tears finally come to her, a sob escaping with them.

Her mother rolls her eyes. “Oh, please stop, Stella, it’s really not attractive when you do that.”

She continues to stare at her reflection in her compact mirror as Stella looks at her incredulously.

“My crying...is unattractive?”

She rolls her eyes again as she dabs at her lips. “You’re not the only one who is sad, Stella, he was my husband. Stop drawing attention to yourself.”

Stella bites her cheek and shakes her head, staring out the window. She digs her nails into the palms of her hands, biting back many spiteful comments germinating in her mind. How could this woman have the nerve to tell her she can’t cry because it’s unattractive, let alone call this man her husband as if she owns him? She’s the one who is never around, was never there to love him the way he deserved, running off to distant countries to do God knows who. The audacity in her small mind to think and genuinely believe that she is the only one who lost him, the only person who was ever in his life, the only one to be betrayed by his departure, sends Stella’s head spinning. He was her father, for fuck’s sake, and the only parent that ever cared. Stella had much more to lose than her flighty mother.

“How is crying in the back of a town car ‘drawing attention to myself’?”

“Drop the attitude, Stella, you just want everyone to feel sorry for you,” she spits, “like always.”

“Do you really think what you did back there in that funeral home was not ‘drawing attention to yourself’? You’re mad,” Stella shoots back.

“I’m the widow, I’m allowed to grieve. I loved him.”

The way she responds is with a heavy dose of arrogance, wrapped in a layer of righteousness. Stella’s stomach churns.

“No, actually, I loved him,” she retorts.

Her mother scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You don’t understand, stupid girl.”

“I loved him more than you ever did--”

“Oh, please--”

“And he deserved much more than to die associated--”

“Shut up--”

“--with fucking rubbish, like you.”

Stella feels the sting of her knuckles against her face before she even sees it coming. Blood rushes to the skin where she was stricken, and to her cheeks in embarrassment and anger.

“I told you to shut up, and you will listen to me,” she said, her teeth gritted.

Stella resists every urge to touch her face and to make sure she isn’t bleeding, trying not to show how affected she is by the sudden violence.

“You need to brush up on your manners because I will not have you speak to me in that tone ever again, do you understand me?”

Avoiding eye contact, Stella nods.

“If you ever speak to me like that again, I will not hesitate to ship you to the nearest orphanage, am I making myself clear?”

Stella nods again.

“Good.”

In the commotion, neither passenger realized that the car had come to a stop at it’s destination. Stella’s mother readjusts herself to look presentable, even though nothing had changed about her appearance in the last five minutes, and pushes open the door, stamping out onto the pavement before slamming the door shut. Once she’s gone, Stella lays her face in her hands, breathing deeply, checking for any possible bleeding. Her heart is racing and her eyes are burning with unshed tears, but she holds them in anyway, along with her breath. The door opens beside her just as she starts to go numb, the feeling in her fingers gone and her emotions back to neutral.

“Are you okay, miss?” the driver asks.

She looks up into his kind, grandfatherly face, etched with concern. Stella doesn’t miss out on the irony of a stranger caring more about her than her own mother. She gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and she knows it.

“Yes, I’m alright, sir,” she says, stepping out of the car, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Clearly, he heard every word to the conversation, and that fact satisfies Stella, somehow. At least now someone else knows what a monster her mother truly is, no matter how much she pretends not to be. A random stranger now knows the truth.

She makes her way up the hill toward the crowd of people, and finds her seat in the front. Despite her position front and center, no one looks at her, as if she is the one who is dead and gone.

She almost believes it’s true because, as her father is lowered into the ground, she doesn’t shed a single tear.

next section ---->

[iviarellereads]

The Shadow Rising, Chapter 50 - Traps

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Crescent moon icon) In which I can finally let you in on some secrets you could absolutely figure out for yourself if you kept notes, too.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand observes the Aiel’s home culture and wishes he could trust Moiraine not to hand him over to the Tower on a leash as he makes his way to find a gift suitable for Aviendha, to thank her. He avoids the peddlers' wagons, in favour of talking to the Maidens. When he finds a bracelet he thinks will suit, the woman he's bartering with, Adelin, asks why he wants it. When he explains, she says she will take no price for it, and gives what must be a ritual response because it gets repeated with every Maiden present for no reason Rand can ascertain.

He finds Avi and gives her the bracelet, telling her what happened. She explains that they think he's trying to catch her interest romantically. He says he can set them straight, but she tells him no, that would dishonor her. It's not his fault, she says, and she apologizes if she ruined his meal. Now, he should go, she has carpets to beat the dust out of.(1)

Rand goes back to Lian and Amys's house, discusses how he knows Avi is a spy and they won't learn anything from him through her, and Melaine snaps that they want him to know their blood for his own so that he might save more than a remnant of a remnant of them. Amys intercedes, and Rand is shown to his room. He falls asleep seeing traps in everyone around him.

He dreams that he's back swimming in the Waterwood in 2Rs, with El and Min to either side of him, as if he has to choose. He can't love both of them. Why does love pop into his head? Avi appears on the bank and says he doesn't know who he loves. He offers to teach her to swim. On the opposite bank Lanfear laughs, naked, and asks why she should allow him to be unfaithful to her even in his dreams as Min and El and Avi disappear.

Rand struggles to get away from her, when a man's voice asks if this is how she amuses herself, and why she's risking their plan this way. She says he fears risk as much as Moghedien, the Spider herself.(2) He says if he must take risks, he wants a greater reward, then disappears. Lanfear disappears as well, and Rand wakes.

Aviendha is in the room with him, and after some soft discussion where she accidentally gives away that the Wise Ones are watching Rand's dreams, he senses something wrong. He calls his fire sword, and goes to find the wrongness: a Draghkar,(3) feeding on the gai'shain woman he met earlier. He kills the Draghkar, and Avi says the woman is dead.

Together, the two wake everyone, and the hold rushes to battle with remaining Darkspawn. Rand doesn't cover his face, saying they can't find him if they don't know where he is, and he finds some joke in it.(4)

PERSPECTIVE: Mat grumbles that Rand keeps dropping them both into trouble. He can't help but notice the battle tactics at play here, like Trollocs drawing people away from one end of the canyon so the Draghkar can attack Rand more freely.

He sees Rand coming up the canyon followed closely by Avi, stone-faced, and Moiraine, harassing Rand about trying to force prophecy. Rand asks what Moiraine wants, she wants him to confide in her. He asks that she promise not to hinder him if he tells her what he plans. She says she will not hinder his destiny, but she won't let him lay his head on a chopping block. That's not good enough for Rand.

Rhuarc says the Trollocs were a diversion, and no doubt they'll see Soulless next, or worse. He wants guards on Rand at all times. He adds that the Maidens have volunteered for the task, and will do better at it for being so eager, but they won’t be alone.

Mat asks if the Shaido could be any help, but Rhuarc says they left for Alcair Dal, possibly meaning to intercept Sevanna on her way to influence her against Rand. Rand says he must go now, then, he can't give Couladin a month to influence everyone else, even if it dishonours some of the chiefs.

After a moment, Rhuarc said, “Perhaps you are right. You bring change, Rand al’Thor. At sunrise, then. I will choose out ten Red Shields for my honor, and the Maidens will provide yours.” “I mean to be leaving when first light hits the sky, Rhuarc. With every hand that can carry a spear or draw a bow.” “Custom—” “There are no customs to cover me, Rhuarc.” You could have cracked rocks with Rand’s voice, or put a skim of ice on wine. “I have to make new customs.” [...] “Someone had best let the peddlers know,” Rand continued. “They won’t want to miss the fair, but if they don’t stop those fellows drinking they will be too drunk to handle reins. What of you, Mat? Are you coming?” He certainly did not intend to let the peddlers get away from him, not his way out of the Waste. “Oh, I am right behind you, Rand.” The worst of it was, it felt right saying that. Bloody ta’veren tugging at me! How had Perrin pulled free? Light, I wish I was with him right now. “I guess I am.”

=====

(1) Do you think she'll be picturing his face, or her until-recently-comrades, on those rugs? (2) There's the spider imagery with her. If I hadn't given her name when she showed up as herself, to tag her properly, I'd be pointing it out now. Also, this scene offers us some clues as to some identities. The blurry man is spending a lot of time with Lanfear, enough that he wonders where she's gone off to and finds her in Rand's dream. They're associating in the way of business partners. So, he's another Forsaken, and part of their plan is pulling Rand's strings. So, no more hiding that Keille and Jasin are Lanfear and… someone. There are only so many male Forsaken left, after all. Aginor, Balthamel, Be'lal, and Ishamael all appear to be dead. That leaves a whole list just as long (Rahvin, Demandred, Sammael, Asmodean) of possible names. What do we know about any of these? Well, Demandred has only been mentioned as one of the Forsaken in a glossary entry and a throwaway line in book 1. Sammael was last seen ruling in Illian and Moiraine seemed pretty confident of that. Rahvin's been mentioned three times so far this book, always right next to Sammael, if you want the best clue you're gonna get on what he might be up to. But, if you look back at chapter 9 really carefully, you might see Lanfear admit to who she's making plans with: she as good as begs Rand to kneel to the Dark One and let Asmodean teach him to channel with control, so that Rand and Lanfear can rule the world together, maybe even find a way to use the great sa'angreal (the statues with the crystal balls) to challenge the Dark One and the Creator himself. See, who needs to spoil you when you have the information, you just need to be able to remember it! (3) Hey, it's been a minute since we saw one of these! Well, two books, to be more accurate, I think. How did they find him, all the way out here? Well, there are two Forsaken next door, but why would Lanfear or Asmodean bring the evil creatures so close to themselves? (4) Here's where I admit, I'm not 100% on what the joke is either.

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Chapter Nine: The Truth Untold

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.6k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 9 / 15

Warnings — discussion of violence/murder

Note — Sorry for the delays on this chapter, and for the format that it's being posted in. Unfortunately, between the hurricane and a broken computer, I won't be able to post in the exact format I usually do with all the pictures and everything. I also won't be able to link anything, update my master list, or put a breaker in this chapter unfortunately. For now, this is how it's going to go up. I do plan on going back and editing in the banners and the headers and all of that as soon as my computer is fixed. Hopefully that will be in the next couple weeks, so if this chapter looks different later this year, that's why lol. Thank you all for being so patient and so kind on the previous chapters, but I am finally back to writing again! Enjoy!!

Previous — Next

"Where are you going?"

"To find that curator."

"[Y/n], hold up—I'm coming with you."

Your stomach does somersaults as Taehyung grabs your hand and pulls you in the direction of the elevator. His stride is just as determined as yours, and you feel immense comfort with his hand in yours. As small a gesture as it is, it feels warm and helps subside the anxiety within you.

Despite the lack of film in the last few months of their lives, for whatever reason, you know exactly how your past lives' story ends. You've seen it your entire life. It ends in a bloodbath.

But you had no idea that they were being threatened for months before their deaths. You didn't realize the ins and outs of reincarnation, as [Y/n] told it. If what she said was true, then Taehyung should have gotten his memories back when he turned twenty-one in this lifetime. If you think back to your dream, you remember she'd said something along those lines.

"Come find me. In the next one: meet me there."

From his spot next to you in the elevator, Taehyung looks down at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" You turn and lock with his gaze. "Those were our past lives, and not only were they murdered shortly after those clips, but I now know that they were being stalked way before then. All of this, everything lines up with my dream. And god, I don't want to be skeptical or logical... I believe all of it."

"I do, too."

"You do?"

Taehyung nods, and his dark curls fall over his forehead, barely brushing over his eyes. "What I'm wondering is why didn't I get my memories back at twenty-one?"

Shaking your head, you sputter, "Maybe it's because we were murdered at the same time? From the way they were talking, that's a first. The cycle was messed up. I don't know how or why." You pause, and the elevator dings up another floor. "Do you remember anything at all? Have any memories come back?"

Taehyung bites his lower lip and turns his gaze away. "Something's there. It's like a word on the tip of your tongue. You're familiar. All of this feels...right? I don't know how to describe it."

"You said you believe it."

"I do. That film wasn't faked. Those people were us. Everything they said feels right in my heart. I just...I don't have proof to back it up."

Your hand tightens around his, fingers lacing together as you state, "Well, I know who can give us some of that."

The elevator doors open, and you pull Taehyung along as you head straight for Ms. Jwa's office. You might not know exactly where it is, but the wing of offices is just down the hall from the service elevator. She can't be far.

The middle-aged woman looks up from her computer as both of you enter without knocking. She seems surprised at the sudden entrance, but her shock dissipates quickly.

"I have to say, that was faster than I thought."

"Who were Kim Taehyung and Kim [Y/n]?" you ask, getting straight to the point.

Ms. Jwa sighs and leans back in her office chair. She gestures for you to close the door, then motions to the chairs across from her. "Have a seat." A beat of silence follows the closing of the door, and you both take your seats. "I assume you watched the film?"

"We did," Taehyung nods. "Have you?"

The curator nods. "I did."

"Then you know about reincarnation. You knew Taehyung and I might come back."

Another affirmative shake of her head. "Which is why I kept everything that belonged to you both, as you requested I do in late 1994. I was surprised, but now I see why." Her gaze shifts back and forth between you and Taehyung. "You really are mirror images of them. It's astonishing."

"You were their friend?" you inquire.

Ms. Jwa's face shifts to a small smile, but behind the expression, there's deep sadness. "I was. If you want, I can start at the beginning." When neither of you speaks up, she continues. "Taehyung and I went to the same art school in Daegu. We're both from the city and wanted to make it big in Seoul. He was kind of like the big brother I never wanted."

She flashes a grin at Taehyung. "No offense. When we moved to Seoul, we got jobs here as junior curators. I was more on the art history side, whereas Taehyung was the true artist. He always said he wanted his works to be displayed here someday." Her eyes drop to her hands, clasped in her lap. "Which is why I felt it was only right to put his memorial here and display his favorite photographs."

She shakes her head, pulling herself out of memory. "Your past selves met and fell in love very quickly. I thought it was strange. Taehyung was a...unique person. Always was, and he didn't often click with people right away. But [Y/n]? I don't believe in soulmates, but those two were the exception."

"Before they died, they were being stalked," Taehyung intervenes. "By who?"

Ms. Jwa shrugs her shoulders. "We don't know. We assume it's the same person that killed them, but there's no way to know for sure. He was practiced. He knew what he was doing. The evidence was inconclusive, and the cameras were blacked out. I have no idea how he got in after-hours, what his motive was, or how he got away."

Your breath catches in your throat at her words. Something in the back of your mind told you that he might've escaped. Your dream shows him injured, bleeding profusely, but stumbling out of sight. You'd hoped that he'd wandered off somewhere and died, and he might have—away from the Museum—but your stomach sinks regardless.

"It wasn't just stalking. Taehyung and [Y/n] received death threats for months before they died. It started with Taehyung, around the time he met [Y/n], and then she started getting them as well. Always anonymous. Even the police were baffled."

"So what you're telling us is that even after all this time, there are no answers?"

Ms. Jwa clearly sees your dismay, but can offer no condolences or closure. "I wish I had more to tell you, but that's the extent of what I know. I kept everything in that vault downstairs hoping that one day one of you would show up again and be able to tell me what happened to you. I figured Taehyung would be the one to get his memories first, based on the video footage, but when he showed up as a pop star with clearly no memory of his past, I thought..." She trails off and takes a pause before continuing. "I thought it best not to push the issue. I wasn't sure if the cycle had broken, or if he was merely trying for a different life this time. Either way, I wanted him to be happy. He looked happy to me, at least from the outside."

Taehyung heaves a deep sigh, shaking his head profusely. "How many times did I come to visit this place, and you said nothing? You must have seen me before yesterday. Why didn't you tell me anything?"

You're right." The curator's eyes drift downward as she says, "Maybe I should have said something. Perhaps that would have sped up the process. I did what I thought was right at the time. Maybe that was to quell my own guilt." She lifts her head and offers an apologetic smile to us both. "Now I can see that that was wrong. For that I apologize. All I can do now is make up for the lost time and offer you answers that I have." She gestures with a flourish of her hand to the doorway. "All of the things downstairs or yours, feel free to take any of it. But as for who killed you, or why, or what happened to them, I'm afraid no one has those answers."

You ride from your seat, take a step forward, and move closer to the curator to lower your voice. "Then tell us why were we here that night. If we knew we were being followed, I know what I would have done and it's not coming back to the one place that I knew we wouldn't be safe."

"You're correct," she says. "That is the only other thing I can tell you. You were about to leave the country that night. Like I told you, Taehyung and I were very close. He didn't have many friends, but Emelia Popescu and I were the only people he considered as such. It was fate that we all worked in the same office. Because of that, he wanted to see us one last time before you left. Both of you came here to say your final goodbyes to Emelia and I."

"And we didn't say anything that made you ask questions?" Taehyung inquires.

Ms. Jwa scoffs lightly. "I asked all the questions in the world. You wouldn't tell me anything more than the matter was urgent and leaving was necessary, and that you would send word for where you were when the coast was clear. To be honest, everything about that night terrified me even before...before the accident."

The name she mentioned moments ago brings back memories of a corpse at the base of a stone figure, crimson expanding along the tiles of the floor. "Emelia was the other girl that was killed, right?" You have no idea what the girl actually looked like; those memories have yet to resurface.

Ms. Jwa nods once. "Yes, I had left to take an urgent call after I had said goodbye. Emelia had offered to walk you both out. That was when you were attacked." She shudders, and Taehyung instinctively reaches out and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. At his touch, she steadies and flashes a watery smile. "Emelia was killed first as a distraction and lure, and then the both of you were..." Her sentence trails off, but you all know how that story ends.

That can't be it. This cannot be all that there is. All the memories, all the dreams, the flood of confusion and emotion that has wrapped you in a vice-grip the last few months -- it's all been leading to the moment of truth. Your heart was racing this morning, the thought of finally knowing what happened in 1995 sending you into an elated but terrified tizzy.

You never thought that the answers would be so close, yet slip between you fingers like the water from the Museum fountain where you and your lover were brutally masacred.

But you've seen the evidence yourself, all of your belongings, and spoken to someone who knew you both well. Every piece of truth she has is in her mind and in her vault below your feet. If the answers aren't there, where could they be?

How can that be all that there is?

You step back, leaning against the nearest bookshelf for support, gripping one of the shelves so tightly you know your knuckles are white. "There has to be something you can tell us about who he was," you murmur. "Something, anything."

Taehyung's gaze meets yours, and you can see for the first time that his desperation mirrors your own. Even if it wasn't obvious to you when you first arrived in South Korea, Kim Taehyung has been searching for his own answers just as fiercly -- if not more so -- than you. Whatever cycle you both have been in for god knows how many centuries has not been broken, but it is damaged. While he should have been the one to remember at twenty-one, there is a part of him that longs for rememrance. Something deep inside has been pushing him towards the truth and constantly reminding him that parts of his life are awry. Even if everything from the outside seems perfect, you can tell from those eyes that he needs this just as much as you.

"Did no one see his face, or a glimpse of anything?" he rephrases. "And how did he let you live when the only other three people in the building were murdered?"

The curator walks over to the bookshelf nearest you, searches the columns for a moment, and retrieves an old file. This one is a bright red color, different than the others on the shelves and easy to locate. She opens it and hands us a composite sketch notebook for that has Seoul Police Department written on the face.

"There was one witness that saw him in a dark alleyway. Not much detail was captured, but she did remember a few distinct details that she told the police. This is the composite sketch that was created based on her details. I'm not sure how much help it will be, but it's yours if you want it."

Taehyung joins your side, arm brushing yours as he God's affirmatively towards the notebook. He doesn't say a word, but his expression tells you everything: "Go ahead. I'm here. This might be the only answer we get."

In a burst of untethered courage, you open the pages to reveal the single composite sketch on the first page. It's merely charcoal on white paper, but the expression of a man you've seen in your nightmares stares back at you with a haunted hatred all over his face. Memories from the past flood back to you, not just from your deathly dream but further than that.

Decades.

Centuries.

You've known this man's face for as long as your soul has been a soul. The last lifetime, the one before that, all the way back to the very first one. The death in your dream from 1995 is only the beginning; this is a face you've seen in your very first life, the one you only started to remember when you came to Seoul.

Your hands begin to tremble, and a lump swells up in your throat. Taehyung steadies your grip, concern covering his features. He says your name, but your ears are ringing and his voice is drowned out by the panic racing through your body. The book drops from your hands, your knees buckle, and your eyes roll back into your head.

Never in any nightmare did you ever think you would the face of your first parent again, let alone with a smoking gun in his grasp and your blood on his hands.

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can ​​ @jaiennn ​​​ @happyhrsme ​​ @butaes​​, @peter-pan ​ @twoteen-yup​ @dreamcatcherjiah @aelinashryv @luvth @cheoriemoawa @xyahrinx @say-something-nice-missy @btseverafter7 @kris10duh

(Taglist is always open! Comment below!)

[kinglazrus]

The Dying Star, Chapter One

Truce fic for @lexiepiper. It's 6:30 a.m. and I stayed up all night rewriting this chapter a dozen times because I wasn't satisfied, but here it is! Will be posted to Ao3 later when I am not sleep-deprived.

Links to be added | Next | AO3

Word count: 1875

Living in a place like Amity Park, you get used to echoes. Things like to linger here. The old movie posters that sometimes show up at the Multiplex. Children's laughter resounding from a rusted jungle gym. A whiff of smoke at an empty lot where a building burnt down five years ago.

Amity Park has always been haunted; it just wasn't always by ghosts.

No one knows why. Maybe the Fentons have a theory, but Valerie has never asked. She came close to it once after her mother passed. She spent days wandering Amity Park, going to all the places they spent time together, searching for remnants. She found plenty, yet none that belonged to her mother. But in her hours of seeking, she made a discovery.

There are voids. Places that swallow things up and, rather than a cascade of emotions, feel like nothing at all. Casper High is one of those places. Too much has happened here, Valerie thinks, for any one thing to linger. It's most apparent when you're alone and even the sound of your breathing is eaten up by the void, leaving you with silence.

Valerie knows this well. Just as she knows that she is not alone right now.

She walks at a firm pace, steady enough to keep a marching band in time, which makes it obvious when she misses a beat and the person following her does not. She pauses, holding her foot in the air a second longer than necessary, and a step echoes when it should have been quiet.

It takes considerable effort for her not to react. She keeps her attention forward, placing one foot in front of the other. An echo on its own is harmless, even one that's a real, tangible thing. As long as she doesn't provoke it, and it doesn't do anything to her, she's fine with it following her.

Focusing on the task at hand, she tells herself. If only she can remember what that is.

The lights are off, and the school is empty. She has the glow of the emergency exit signs, which stick down from the ceiling every twenty feet or so, to see by. The pools of light don't quite touch, leaving a stretch of shadow no more than a few paces long between them. As Valerie passes beneath the next sign, she glances up at it. The arrow at the bottom points straight ahead, but there is no exit in sight. Not only that, but she can't see any classroom doors, nor did she see any on her way here. On either side of her, the row of lockers continues unbroken. The same stretch of hallway repeating into eternity.

Something is deeply wrong. A part of Valerie knows this, but any time she tries to bring the thought to the front of her mind and acknowledge it, it slips away against her will, leaving her with a niggling sense of worry. She clenches her hands, needing some way to work through her tension without alerting her echo, and falters when she feels something against her palm.

Opening her hand, she finds a patch. She must have been holding it the whole time, but she didn't feel it until now. What hope discovering it might have brought is quickly dashed when she realizes the patch has no detail. A plain embroidered edge and empty middle. Some bits of thread stick out the back, along with a scrap of the fabric it was originally sewn to. When she rubs her thumb over it, she feels stray threads brushing against her finger despite not being able to see them.

Valerie looks down the hall again. It goes on and on, lockers and exit signs merging into a pinprick of red light in the distance.

She was searching for something. Is searching for something.

Only now, as she comes to that realization, does she notice the second set of footsteps hasn't stopped. They're coming from behind her, faster than she had been walking, and getting faster still. She doesn't have time to dawdle.

Valerie shoves the patch in her pocket and takes off running. The shadows stretch ahead of her. What should have been a few steps turns into miles as the red light pulls away. She passes lockers at a crawl while the approaching steps get louder and faster. The noise thunders in her ears until it's all she can hear. Closer and closer, louder and louder. They're almost upon her when she gives into temptation and whips around, looking back for the first time, but there's nothing to see.

Beneath the thunder, something whispers in her ear.

"Valerie!"

—

She wakes up to a warm hand on her forehead. She doesn't need to open her eyes to know it's her father running his hand over her hair. Valerie leans into the touch, humming with relief.

"Valerie?" Damon's hand pauses, but he starts again when she whines. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." The temptation to go back to sleep is strong. Normally, a quick nap is all it takes for Valerie to feel re-energized. She has learned to live off stolen minutes between school and work and ghost hunting, but this time feels different. Not just because of the dream that's already fading from her mind, but because of the pounding in her head and the warmth throughout her body. If hadn't already been lying down, she would have slumped over.

As it is, she melts into her father's side. Even if she's already feverish, the comfort his presence brings outweighs any unwanted heat.

"Sweetie, you have to sit up," Damon says.

"Do I gotta?"

"Just for a couple minutes."

She grumbles as she complies, letting Damon sit her upright. The shift in elevation makes her head pound even more, and it only gets worse when she opens her eyes. She closes them again immediately.

"Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open," a new voice says.

Valerie doesn't want to, but her curiosity wins out, and she finds herself looking at a middle-aged woman in a white coat.

"Very good," the woman says. "Now look straight ahead."

A light flashes in Valerie eye, making her wince. The woman hums and does it again with the other eye, then does... other things. Valerie doesn't really know. She feels hands on her head, and hears the woman and her dad talking, but it floats over her. She is sinking down into an ocean of half-formed thoughts and doesn't mind drowning there.

"Valerie." Damon jostles her, yanking her back to the surface.

"Hm?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" the woman asks. A doctor, Valerie realizes. She's a doctor.

"Uh, Mr. Lancer let us go early..." Valerie tries to dig for more, but capturing a solid memory is like catching rain on her open hands. Each drop offers a brief sensation. The buzz of her ghost hunting suit. A flash of pristine white. The feel of a rough hand in hers. She knows she could get more if she cupped her hands and pressed them together, but her fingers are too numb to move.

"Is this the concussion?" Damon asks.

"Possibly. We'll get her scanned to make sure there's nothing wrong internally, but there could be other causes for her symptoms. The ghost we detained was particularly strong. It's known for causing trouble, and with the kinds of powers it has, we don't know what its ectoplasm could have done to her."

Funny. Valerie didn't know doctors could ghost hunt. Except the Fentons are doctors and they ghost hunt. They aren't the same kind of doctor, though, are they? She wonders if that matters.

"As soon as we're done with the preliminary samples, we'll know how to proceed. As it is, we have two options ahead of us."

"Which are?"

"If the samples come back negative, we transfer her to South Mercy, and with any luck she's back home by the weekend."

"And if it's positive?"

"In that case, we'd—" A buzz interrupts the doctor. "You'll find out right away."

"What do you—"

A door slams open. Valerie jumps, her eyes flying open, although she doesn't remember closing them in the first place. Four men in hazmat suits stride into the room. Damon leaps from Valerie's side, standing between her and the men.

"What's going on?" he demands.

"Sir, you have to come with use. We need to make sure you haven't been exposed." As the men stride forward, the doctor backs away. Two of the men grab Damon and pull him back.

"Daddy!" Valerie shouts. Her own voice pierces her brain like an icepick.

"Stay calm," one of the remaining men says. "Don't panic."

Valerie panics. She leaps off the cot she had been sitting on and charges toward her dad, or tries to. The room tilts around her and she careens into the fourth man. His arms close around her. Someone holds a mask to her face. Valerie tries to fight it off, but she can't. She gasps and sucks in a lungful of the gas. Her head grows fuzzy. Spots fill her vision. In no time at all, Valerie finds herself slipping back out of the waves, and this time her dad isn't there to pull her back up.

—

He waits until the little ghost hunter and her father are gone before pulling off his hood. He casts the hood aside. The rest of the hazmat suit follows, discarded onto the patient bed beside him. "I hate these things. They're so hard to breathe in."

"Well. That was theatrical," the doctor remarks. "You sure you didn't overdo it? She was really panicking."

"I doubt she'll remember. This was more for her father than anything."

"If you say so." The doctor looks him up and down, a smirk appearing on her lips. "Careful, you almost look rumpled."

He follows her gaze to his lapel, which had somehow folded over in the chaos. He tries to smooth it out, but a crease cuts across it, ruining the natural fold. It's tolerable, if a little annoying. He smooths out the rest of his suit, checking for any stains or smudges. White clothes are great when dealing with ectoplasm, which is a natural bleaching agent, but there are so many other things that can ruin it. It's unfortunate, especially for someone like him who always wants to look his best.

The doctor stands and stretches, popping her back. "I should be there when she wakes up."

"Agreed. I'll talk to Mr. Gray." They part outside the examination room, heading in opposite directions. The doctor will have plenty of time to examine the patient while she's unconscious. He's almost jealous. Sometimes, he wishes he stuck to the more scientific side of things rather than going for field work. Less people to deal with. More time in the lab.

Not that he doesn't enjoy his job.

He doesn't go far, knocking on the door to another examination room a little ways down the hall. Damon Gray looks up at his entrance, the perfect picture of a distraught father.

He sits down opposite the man and begins. "Mr. Gray, I'm Operative S. I'm afraid we need to talk about your daughter."

[fastlikealambo]

link to chapter one.

link to chapter two.

link to chapter three.

Bloodsinger: Vampire! Eddie Munson x Black Reader Drabble Part 4 

Summary: Out of every news source in the country, the one and only lead singer of Corroded Coffin and self proclaimed vampire Eddie Munson has decided to do a sit down interview with The Hawkins Post. Instead of your boss, you’re sent to a mansion on Halloween Night and you’re in no way prepared for what’s in store.

Trigger Warnings: violence, gore, blood k!nk , a tinsy bit of cardiophilia if you squint, 80s workplace sexism

Inspired by: The Vampire Chronicles,  Dracula, Lost Boys, Vampire Diaries, Twilight, honestly every single vampire trope and cliche is in present and accounted for in this fic.

minors dni, I check.

this is either the worst thing I’ve ever written or halfway decent, either way, enjoy!

“ Corroded Coffin is doing a show tonight and there’ll be a press junket afterwards. Here’s your press pass, there will be photographers there so you don’t have to take any photos. Hey, are you listening to me cupcake? Hello,  I’m talking to you!”

Your boss snaps his fingers in your face, making you jump.

“Maybe I should have put one of the guys on this. Between this and your shitty interview notes, we’re screwed if you fuck things up anymore. Are we clear?”

You said nothing, took the lanyard from his hand and walked away.

It’s nice that as you await your death by an incorporeal ancient vampire, you’re still clocking into work. Sitting there and staring into the atmosphere, but at least you’re doing it at your desk.  Perhaps if you had people to say goodbye to in your final days you’d feel something but you don’t.

You thought about saying goodbye to your roommate but given the fact that she’s pissed off due to Eddie’s consistent calls at all hours of the day and night over the past few days since you ran away, you think better of it.

You don’t even change your clothes before the show, sticking out in the venue filled with celebrities and at least two Pulitzer prize winning journalists. The bar becomes your hideout as the band takes their place on stage, and you hate that your stomach does a little flip when you see Eddie.

You should go home.

Your attempts to shrink into the darkness of the bar have no effect as Eddie stops in his tracks on stage, eyes searching the crowd and finding you instantly.

Stupid heart murmur.

Their set begins and alcohol helps to avoid his gaze. You can’t help but enjoy the music and wonder if things were different, maybe you two could be something more.

Could things be different?

 The set is far too quick for your liking and Eddie’s offstage before the applause even finishes, a beeline straight for you.

There’s eyes on you as he makes his way through the crowd which is the last thing you want.

Maybe with all this new attention, the headline after your death will be “Hawkins Journalist Turned Munson Groupie Found Dead in Mysterious Accident” instead of a two line obituary written by a coworker who’s office hobby was looking up your skirt.

“You came.” Eddie said, a soft smile that you don’t return.

“Well I had to try and finish the article, seeing as it might be the last one I ever write.” You quipped, knocking another shot back and reach for the next one only for Eddie to push it away from you and subsequently onto the floor with a loud crash.

“Press interviews will be starting momentarily, please make your way to the side ballroom!”  Their publicist yelled into the microphone, drawing attention from you two back to the stage. The distraction is enough for you to walk out of the side door into the cool night air.

“Please, can we talk?” He asked, appearing in front of you.

“About what? That you lied to me from the moment we met?  I have known you for less than a damn week but because you couldn’t keep it in your pants for another 100 years, I’m going to die.  Go back to your mansion, go back to your band,  I’ll make sure to send you a better photo of me for your next portrait.” 

“You think I wanted this?”

“You know, I kinda think you did. All of this has to weigh on your soul, their deaths of course, but also wanting what you can’t have. You couldn’t leave me alone, you wanted my blood so bad you’d rather condemn me to death and run away.  I’m a person, all of those women on your wall were people too, and I’m not going to let you use me to absolve you of your guilt.”

“Please I’m begging you, I can protect you.”

“If you wanted to protect me you would have left me alone.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” His voice cracks and he averts his eyes, the sadness enough to make you step forward, a gentle hand on his face.

“Maybe in the future you’ll be braver Eddie, but because of you I’m not going to live to see it.”  You said quietly and turned to leave.

“ Please, just come home with me, you don’t have to do this alone.” There’s a hand on your wrist, pulling you back.

“Let go Eddie, just leave me alone!” You turn back around to face him but he’s not there.

No one is.

You’re alone in what’s left of a hallway, crumbling walls covered in thick black vines, ash from a red stormy sky above falling into your hair.

“Eddie? Hello, is anybody here?” You yelled out to an uneasy silence that was interrupted by slow yet heavy footsteps behind you.

This couldn’t be how it ends, not yet.

“Edward isn’t here, but I’ve been  looking forward to seeing you again.”

You slowly turn around, the sight in front of you so terrifying your scream dies in your throat.

Vecna.

You have no idea where you’re running to, but you run faster than you have in your life thus far, sprinting through the ruins of the event venue until you reach the outside. 

Or what should be Hawkins Main Street. 

Instead, it’s pure devastation: cars overturned, unseen cries of strange creatures echoing here and there, once pristine houses crumbling into nothing. Never in your imagination could you have pictured the town that you grew up in, your home, looking like this.

“Isn’t it beautiful? You’re walking on a whole new world bloodsinger, a new era approaches and you are here to witness it. Does that not fill you with pride?”  Vecna asked, his grotesque towering body appearing at your side. 

You take a step but vines slither around your ankles, bringing you to your knees before you could so much as blink.

“What do you want from me?”

“What a stupid question. What does a cat want from a mouse, a wolf from a sheep? You have given me so much and now we are at the precipice of a glorious annihilation and that is all thanks to you. Cry if you must but your time is over, turn your face towards the red sky and be not afraid.”  The vines are tighter around you and you want to cry out but you don’t.

“You said I have given you everything you need already, why do you still need me now? You could have killed me the night I met Eddie, what are you waiting for?” 

The vines lift you up into the air until you’re facing him.

“You think your questions will distract me, they won’t.  But to answer your question, I was waiting for this exact moment. I thought you might like to watch.” Vecna replied, waving a clawed hand behind him. A hole in the sky ripples like water, clearing until you see something in its reflection.

It’s you, eyes open and milky white on the ground in the real Hawkins. Eddie hovers you, ear to your chest, shaking your body.

You’re going to die.

“ There’s something that exists between love and torment that holds incredible power. When I killed the very first you, it caused a crack in the universe and when your precious vengeful Eddie scattered my body to the world, I fell through it. As I floated through that divine nothingness, I used the last bit of my power to curse Edward, but in doing so I tied myself to you.”

“Please do whatever you’re going to do already, I don’t care about your backstory.” A vine wraps around your mouth, cutting off your statement and causing the real you to choke and writhe in Eddie’s arms.

“When the curse took hold and the next you died, something bloomed in the void. I could see into the nothingness and all became clear to me.  Your deaths brought forth a new world, your terror built this kingdom for me and with each sacrifice, a new cathedral grew.  He thought he could outsmart me by never finding you again but all I had to do was wait and now here you are, my final sacrifice.”

You look back at the sky, Eddie is on his knees now, rocking you back and forth, face stained red with bloody tears.

“No.”

“Please don’t try to fight it. You are Eden, you will bring this new world into the old one, accept your fate, bloodsinger and let it happen.”

You could just let it happen.

All your life you’ve done what everyone’s told you to do, not standing up to your boss is what got you here in the first place and it would be so easy to just give in one last time.

The vines set you against the remains of a tree, tying your hands behind your back.

“ Stay still, it’ll all be over soon.” Vecna said, reaching for your neck. In your immense and futile struggle to free yourself, your hand brushes up against something crumbled up in the back pocket of your jeans, something metal.

God be with you child, for the dead travel fast.

There’s no way.

“I’m not dying for you, not for Eddie, not for anyone, not anymore.”

Only one way to find out if the stories are true.

Before his teeth can meet your neck, you rip the cross necklace out of your pocket and press crucifix into the vine. The vine sizzles beneath your touch and you find yourself falling to the ground in front of a wounded Vecna.

And now you run.

You run towards yourself, for yourself, the stormy sky following you, the very ground you stand on cracking beneath your feet but you keep running.

And you don’t look back.

With nowhere else to run you throw yourself at the hole in the sky, Vecna’s screams of fury echoing all around you as you ascend between worlds old and new in a last attempt to save yourself.

No one will say you went out without a fight.

tag list

gardenof-venus

@trvlllx

ccoreo

icqueeniebeenie

richonne4life

@thotyana-in-this-hoe

lolzskye

ziasbl0g

randomwerido

killer-joy3

danielle-19

asagesworld

@revivedhyperfixations

@yeah-seems-legit

@thirddeadlysin

@killslumflower

@notthe-latte-hottay

@matthew666660

@revivedhyperfixations

@fckwritersblock 

@onecentricsoul

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

It's A Bittersweet Symphony And I Am Tone-Deaf

AND SO WE BEGIN, BABES. For the next 25 days, we will be writing small, bittersweet oneshots featuring a variety of OCs I've used prior and will be posting the full stories of after this challenge is over. After this, I will officially be going on hiatus for a bit, so I hope a 25 chapter fic of mini ficlets will be enough to satisfy for now

We're starting off with some lesser known characters, but also baby's first g/t OCs from waaaaay back in the day, Alama and Cassius! For a quick rundown, Cassius is a fox who serves as a knight for the kingdom, while Alama is a mouse who lives in a village of prey within the kingdom's land. Cassius was head over heels for her the moment they met, but Alama knows better than to think a predator can truly love her...

--

Day 1: Proposal (Alama/Cassius) // AO3 Link

To be invited within the halls of the elders was a highly sought out honor few were ever given no matter how desperate they were to prove themselves as worthy. Villagers were more likely to be cast out by those wise, whispering elders after their private exchanges than they were to actually speak to any of the members face to face. It was regarded as a sacred blessing to be seen as someone with equal poise and intelligence by the circle of leaders, to be worthy enough that they could be graced by their just presence and bestowed upon private insight. So many others would kill to be called upon, all of which were probably stewing in indignation that such a humble little mouse girl had been urged to come at once.

So why was Alama despising every minute of every word spoken to her by the revered ones?

Her heart felt like it was going to beat straight out of her chest, a nervousness that should not be mistaken for the same excitement other villagers might dream of feeling. Anxiety must be rolling off her in unmistakable waves as her mother reached over to clasp one of her clammy hands between her own. The warm touch did help to ground her slightly, but the tremble in all her limbs refused to dissipate as the elders continued to droll on about the most awful situation before them.

Cassius had asked for her hand in marriage.

Once upon a time, Alama could have laughed at such a ridiculous notion. A fox wanting to wed a mouse, purely out of the love in his heart? And not just the typical, towering man like so many other predators, but an honored knight as well, a protector to the kingdom that carelessly ruled over the gaggles of prey villages in addition to their own kind. It was preposterous, it was destined to fail before the honeymoon! They must think her a fool to believe there were any good intentions behind the fox’s desire to claim her as a bride. Sure, for the entirety of the self proclaimed courtship, he was nothing short of a proper gentleman, but she was not going to be persuaded so easily by his manners and bashful smile.

“No,” she caught herself saying after one of the elders finished laying out the terms of agreement. Her ears were pinned back into the waves of brown that she fussed into a bun, foolishly hoping her appearance would make a good impression on the esteemed council. Had Alama known this is what she would be subjected to, she might have made herself as decent as a nightwalker to dissuade the decision. Perhaps that was what she should have done the first time the fox had shown the barest amount of interest in her.

The elder formerly speaking, a man with far too many wrinkles to count, furrowed his bushy brows at her. “I beg your pardon?”

Alama swallowed nervously. Gods, who did she think she was to defy the council so boldly? She could sense her father bristling next to her for speaking out of turn, though he did not dare to punish her while he was also in full view of the elders. “No, I…I do not wish to marry him.”

“This has nothing to do with your wishes,” the same elder said, the multitude of wrinkles morphing into a hard frown. “Sir Cassius has agreed to a most generous offer of continuing his personal service of guarding our village in exchange for your hand. We will not be refusing.”

We? You act as if you all are being forced to be his bride! The mouse wanted to scream. How could they tell her this union had nothing to do with her desires when she herself was one half of the marriage! Cassius, ever the noble knight, had already been doing a valiant job in protecting the village in addition to his actual, important duties to serve the kingdom that ruled over them both. He had taken it upon himself to prove that he was a sufficient protector of Alama and her people the first time he requested to court her, mere days after their first formal meeting, and now it seemed he was ready for his payment. 

She couldn’t believe this. Her life was really being negotiated in a contract, to sell away her very being to repay the cost of a guard no one asked to hire. Of course, she had known the fox was in this for the long con, but no one ever believed her claims. It didn’t matter how many lovely outings he took her on, how he never touched her without her express permission (of which she rarely granted), how he looked at her as if she were a goddess rather than a palm sized maiden. Predators and preys just simply did not mix, not as allies, and certainly not as spouses. True, Alama hadn’t the faintest idea of what Cassius could be planning that would require them to become husband and wife, yet she didn’t care to find out.

Alama squeezed her mother’s hand. “And I have no say in this?”

“You can say you agree,” Another council member said, leaning forward to steeple his bony fingers. “And it would be very wise of you to do so.”

No, she couldn’t stomach the thought and she shook her head as now her throat was threatening to close up. Her mother cooed to her, drawing one her hands away to cup Alama’s flushed cheek and turn her towards her. “Sweetheart, you said it yourself, he’s a kind man. He wants to take care of you, is that so bad?”

“He’s a fox,” Alama whimpered. “He serves the same crown that hardly sees our kind as anything more than…than pests. And you want to give me away to him?”

To her mother’s credit, there was a similar shining of unshed tears brimming in her eyes. She gave her daughter a watery smile, though her ears remained downturn. “He adores you, Ala, surely you can see that.”

It was true, she could see the utter devotion Cassius inexplicably had for her and it was sickening. How could he care for her so much? Did he not comprehend that on the social hierarchy she was nothing to him? Even within her own colony of mice, Alama did not bear any high ranking status that might catch the eye of a suitor. She was a common maiden, and a tiny mouse at that, yet everyone acted as if she was the hysterical one for being wary of the fox’s hidden intentions. She should be grateful. She should feel blessed. Instead, she only felt terrified.

Alama sniffled, resisting the urge to hide in her mother’s chest as if she were a little girl. She was already putting on an embarrassing display of pitiful defiance before the elders, there was no need to worsen their sour opinion of her. “But why does he want me? Why can no one else see how deranged that is?”

“Love makes the heart do strange things,” her mother crooned.

“But I don’t love him!” The tears were on the verge of running down her flushed face, her trembling voice cracking at her confession. Could it still be considered a confession if she had made her stance on this one sided romance as clear as ice since the first time she caught the knight looking at her with such desire? Previously, she had mistaken it for a hunger all predators instinctively felt when catching their natural prey, yet somehow the revelation that he wanted more than a simple meal from her was all the more distressing. “Why do I not get a say in my own marriage!?”

“You’re acting like a child,” her father snapped. It was a miracle he was able to hold his temper for this long, especially while his daughter was blubbering away in front of the council. He grabbed her roughly by the arm to yank her out of her mother’s embrace, forcing her to sit straight and forward in front of the burning eyes of the elders. This was feeling less like an honor and more like a sentencing. 

Her nose and throat burned, but the simmering injustice within her soul was sparking far hotter. She pulled her arm from his hold, directing her anger towards him rather than face the men who were trying to send her to her doom. “I am a child, I am your child! Your only daughter is to be married off to a predator and you feel no sympathy?”

Another elder at the far end of the sprawling desk scoffed. “It is you who should feel sympathy, girl. This betrothment is what will guarantee an era of peace and protection. A member of the crown is willing to give up his time and energy to ensure the safety of an entire village, but you want to be selfish.”

“Do you really think a woman in your position is more valuable than the community of a near hundred?” The wrinkled elder added. “All you’ve told us is that you believe the village that sheltered you, the people who raised you into the ungrateful woman you are now, are not worth the comfort of protection in exchange for a few vows.”

“There are princesses in arranged marriages who are married off to cruel kings. You should be grateful to have a husband who can find it in his heart to care for you at all.” The bony one said.

The barrage of accusations on her character stung worse than any backhand her father would be delivering to her in the privacy of their home. Tears dripped down Alama’s chin as she ducked her head in shame, the rage that wanted to spread into a wildfire for her bodily rights extinguished just like the many women who had tried to stand up for themselves before her. “N-no…no, that’s not, I-I didn’t–” It was a useless debate to begin with. The answer was never hers to make and had already been decided long before they requested her to be present. The council wasn’t seeking her permission, they were simply letting her know the terms of agreement before she would be whisked away as a bride. 

Her mother’s hand caressed her now dampened cheek again, but Alama refused to turn and meet her eyes. “You don’t know that this will be an unhappy marriage…”

She did know, because they were not even wed yet and already she was unhappy. She was unhappy during their courtship. She was unhappy when he continued to stalk around the village, a blushing fool whenever their eyes met. She was unhappy the moment the fox had been spotted by the other mice as he made his rounds on the royal land. And every time, her unhappiness was shoved aside by the insistence of others for her to do the right thing at the expense of her wellbeing. It felt as if her happiness in general did not matter, no matter how much her future fiance insisted it did.

If Cassius genuinely cared so deeply for her like he proclaimed, he would have left Alama the hell alone.

The elder with spindly hands clapped them once. “The matter is settled then. Alama Pernelle shall wed Sir Cassius in exchange for his continued services. We will tell him her answer at once.”

Her answer was no! It has always been no! Yet Alama knew better than to expect her honest answer to be the one that was given. Her brooding silence was close enough to a ‘yes’ for all parties involved in this affair, just short of the new bride herself. When all the elders stood from their lines of seating, her father had to pull her shoulder to make her rise as well. She blinked away a few lingering tears in confusion, watching as the men impatiently waited for her by the grand doors that lead to the courtyard.

“N-now? We’re telling him now?” Alama squeaked. After all she had just been put through, they now expected her to face the man who would soon be her husband in this state? Her eyes puffy and dress wrinkled from how tightly she balled the fabric in her fists, voice ready to choke on an ill timed hiccup. Well, perhaps that wouldn’t be too miserable of a display to put on for Cassius. Maybe then he would finally get it through his head that she was not worthy to be doted on by such a glorious predator, never mind wedded to one. 

“Yes now. Do you not listen?” Her father grumbled, shoving her forward to follow the men outside while her parents exited behind their daughter.

Just as expected, Cassius was waiting for the group to appear, looking as imposing as ever in his steel gray armor that encased his slim figure. Upon seeing the flock of mice approach him, he dropped into a kneel, though Alama did not miss the way his orange tail began to swish once he had spotted her amongst the others. His eyes refused to stray to any of the other smaller beings, a warm smile that twisted her heart gracing his handsome face. Had he been of similar size, the mouse was certain she’d be swooning. However, it was because of the size Cassius was cursed with that she felt so faint. She couldn’t bear to look upon his brilliant expression when she knew she was unable to mask her own and kept her head lowered.

The moment she looked away from him, the delight slipped from his features, immediately assuming his question had been met with rejection. And he was right, but her rejection didn’t matter as it was effortlessly outvoted by the elders. Still, Cassius, the wonderful lovestruck fool that he was, had the audacity to put her emotions before his own and hesitantly reach a hand towards her. The fox didn’t touch her, he never dared to touch her unless she allowed it, but the silent offer was presented to her.

“Alama, are you alr-”

“Sir Cassius,” The wrinkled elder cut in. “Your proposal has been accepted.”

This took him by surprise as Alama’s disposition did not invoke the same energy as that of a blushing bride, much more like a recent widow. “It…has?”

The elder nodded. “Alama Pernelle has agreed to become your wife, and in exchange we ask that you continue on with your gracious task of preserving her homeland from threats.”

“Oh, oh yes, right, I mean, that was always a given,” Cassius chuckled nervously, still eying up Alama’s suspicious lack of joy. Really now, what was he expecting? It wasn’t as if she ever presented herself as a bundle of sunshine whenever she was asked to be in his company. The mouse had always closed herself off around him. There were a few times she had found herself actually…enjoying his personality, allowing a few smiles to slip through and a handful of giggles to be hurt. These were the moments that hurt her the most because she knew she was teetering on a dangerous ledge. One wrong move and she may go off the deep end, head over heels the whole way down to her demise.

If only fate had been a little kinder. If only she had been born into a family of cats or wolves, a species that could offer him a better wife to fawn over. 

She heard Cassius’s breath hitch. “Alama, you’re crying.”

Was she? Oh, gods, she was. Hastily, she rubbed the backs of her hands over her eyes to rid herself of any more tears that might give her away. She sniffled, a noise which immediately morphed into a strange sobbed that she barely had time to muffle behind her hand. No, no, no. She couldn’t lose her composure like this. Not in front of the council, not in front of Cassius. Surely this was a sign for a doomed engagement if the bride was on the verge of breaking down into a fit of tears. 

No one else cared, though. Her mother was quick to wrap her arms around Alama’s trembling shoulders, but she offered her comfort to her future son rather than her own daughter. “Tears of joy,” her mother reassured the wary fox, “A wedding can cause so much excitement for a young woman, why, there’s just no other way to express it!”

“She’s always been an emotional one,” her father chimed in. Though her vision was blurred from a fresh wave of tears, she knew Cassius didn’t believe him for a second considering she forced herself to show the fox only the bare minimum. Besides, all women were hysterical weepers to men like her father. She hardly doubted her mother was also sobbing tears of happiness this late into her union with him.

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” Cassius asked, lowering himself further in an attempt to make Alama look at his sweet, trusting face.

One of the elders stepped forward. “Of course this is what she wants. It would be nothing short of an honor t-”

“I’m asking her,” The fox said. His tone was clipped, but it wasn’t as harsh as many other predators would growl. Regardless, it was more than enough to make the man clamp his mouth shut and move away towards the group of other council members yet again. “If she wants to be my wife, I want to hear her say it.”

Oh no. Please, gods, no. Though his intentions appeared noble, he had no idea what kind of pressure he was putting on her at this very moment. He was leaving the decision to wed entirely up to her, something she wanted more than anything as her answer was the one that went against the grain. It was a chance to express her true feelings, to set the record of their relationship straight, to stand up for herself as a young woman. But she couldn’t. The fallout that would come of it was a weight too heavy to bear alone. The village would shun her for her selfish deed, perhaps even execute her as punishment for leaving them to succumb to the fate of a predator. Whether or not that would be Cassius who tore the village to shreds was undetermined, but either way it was a massacre waiting to happen.

“Alama,” No, please, no. Don’t say it. Don’t ask. “Will you marry me?”

With a struggling gulp of air, Alama managed to silence any remaining sobs that fluttered in her chest. She shrugged off her mother’s unhelpful touch, mustering her courage to look up at the fox who even now, with her tear stricken face and burning cheeks, still revered her as if she were the golden sun. Beautiful, bright, warm, all things she could never be.

“I…” She swallowed again. When his hand inched closer to her, she did not refute his touch and let him rub his thumb against her face to wipe away the wet trails that still clung, brushing a few waves of hair out of her eyes in the process. It was unreal how gentle he could be given his size and profession. A man like him shouldn’t exist, at least not in the body of a predator. “I-I do.”

The dazzling smile Cassius flashed made her want to throw up.