#I’m sure this falls in the four temperaments somewhere

[septembersung]

Me, staring gloomily around my house that needs cleaning: If Only I Was Free To Read And Write Books All Day

Me, back when I was in academia: Oh To Be A Homemaker Daily Making The Home

[ciarawritesmarvel]

four sunrises (+ the one you missed) - bucky x reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Canon-typical descriptions of Bucky’s past (mentions of violence, trauma, therapy), Endgame is discussed and the grief that comes with it, all with a fluffier ending

A/N: Hello loves! It’s been a long, long time. I’m by no means ‘back’, whatever that would mean, because I don’t know if this is a one off bout of inspiration or if it will stay with me. Fingers crossed. Regardless, I’m sending each and every one of you so much love and light and happiness. I hope you enjoy this little one shot with little pockets of fluff throughout <3

---

one

There was so much fire, it was a wonder you even noticed the sunrise. But still, your eyes were drawn past the death and the destruction and the wasteland laid bare before you and to the large semi-circular portion of the sun just peeking above the horizon. The new light signalled the start of a new day, a new era maybe, but there was little hope that came with it for now. Not with the wrecked sobs carrying through the air and to your ears from Tony’s body just a few hundred yards away. Not with people combing the battlefield for friends they can’t find. Friends they won’t find.

You keep your eyes on the rising sun and bite the inside of your cheek just enough to hurt a little.

“Hey.”

The voice is soft, hardly meant to be heard above the crying and the shouting and the crackling fires that surrounded you. Still, when you looked to your left at the sound, you found Bucky Barnes stood a little behind you, bruised and solemn. You looked back to the sun. You’d already had to deal with Steve and Thor and Bruce (new, hybrid Bruce) staring at you like you were some sort of ghost when you had ended up side by side at different points in the battle. You weren’t sure you could stand it anymore.

Then again, you had no idea whether Bucky had even been here. Had he been gone? Last you saw him, he was running ahead of you and into the fray in the heat of Wakanda. You’d lost him, lost everyone, once Thanos arrived and hurled you into the trees like you were nothing. And then, all of a sudden, you were nothing.

“Hi Bucky. You okay?” it was reflex, but you winced as soon as you said it because of course he wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. You looked back at him, seeing he had now stepped up beside you properly, “Sorry, stupid question. It’s good to see you, though.”

“And you,” he said sincerely, glancing between you and the horizon, “I’m glad you’re okay. Well, not okay, but-”

“I get it, Buck, don’t worry,” you said, just a small smile on your lips. He returned it. There wasn’t any light in his eyes, but yours were likely dim too. You were trying your best.

“Were you-” he began speaking, but stopped quickly, his eyes now trained on the sunrise instead. He couldn’t look at you, “I mean, were you...here? Or did you…”

He trailed off. It wasn’t as if he needed to continue anyway. He was asking you whether or not you had watched yourself turn to dust a few hours ago and then been woken up by a sorcerer who told you that it had actually happened five years ago. If he was asking, then it meant he’d been gone too. You hadn’t spoken to any of the others who’d been gone yet.

“No, I haven’t been here. You were gone too?”

You saw his body sag beside you in what looked like relief. You supposed perhaps there was a fear that you had been here the whole time and were still unbothered seeing him beside you. Maybe you should have hugged him by now.

“Yeah, I was...gone.”

He still hadn’t turned back to you yet. You threaded your arm through his and shuffled a little closer, a flare of pain shooting through your ankle that you’d forgotten about for an hour or so now. Even so, it was worth it just for a little contact with another human being. Bucky tensed underneath you, but you felt him ease up soon enough. You’d visited Wakanda a few times during his time there so you considered him a friend, whether or not the sentiment was returned.

“I don’t know what to say,” you mumbled, hoping he’d hear you anyway. The sun was well over halfway above the horizon now, looking huge and predatory as it took up its position in the rapidly brightening sky, “Not just to you, either, but to anyone. They’ve been living this whole time and we’ve just been dropped back into their lives again. Now Nat’s gone and Tony’s…”

You trailed off, lump firmly lodged in your throat. There was an unspoken question in your rambling: Where do we go from here?

“You don’t have to say it,” he said gravely, “I don’t know either.”

You looked over your shoulder, just briefly, just because you couldn’t stop yourself. You wished you hadn’t. Before you could look for too long, Bucky’s shoulder was nudging yours and you looked back up at his face. Dark eyes. An almost imperceptible shake of his head. You understood immediately. The sunrise was better for now.

When you turned back to it, Bucky’s shoulder was right next to your head, and you were so tired, so when your temple hit the leathery material of his jacket you decide to let yourself have this one. Again you feel the muscles tense, but a few seconds later they relax, and you try to do the same.

“Maybe we stick together, at least a little. Might help us get used to whatever world we’ve come back to?”

There was a pause. Then a little weight that felt a lot like he was resting his head on your own.

It was as close to a yes as you were going to get.

---

two

“If you don’t let me in, I’ll just use my key, you know. The knocking is a courtesy, Barnes!”

You were shouting a little louder than you wanted to in an apartment complex at six in the morning where the walls were thin and the tenants were cranky, but you’d been knocking on Bucky’s door for at least five minutes now and he still hadn’t let you in. He was definitely in there. Without a doubt.

This was proven not twenty seconds later when there was a few clicking locks and the door opened just a crack. There was a sliver of Bucky’s face in view, enough to notice that he hadn’t been shaving and his eyes looked more tired than you’d ever seen him. It was hard to keep the pity from flooding your features.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

“To let me in, genius, come on! I’ve got breakfast,” you shook the bag of takeout in his eyeline and watched his face fall. You tried not to take it to heart.

“Maybe some other time,” his voice was defeated and you were lucky that you saw the door slam coming before it happened. You stuck your foot out into the gap and winced when he shut the door right on your foot. His eyes widened, and so did the door as he backtracked, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Ignoring him, you walked inside. He was still in the middle of apologising for your foot, but stopped short when he realised it was part of your tactic all along. Resigned to his fate, he sank down onto his couch while you busied yourself in the kitchen getting plates out for the breakfast.

“I tried bringing dinner last night, but you didn’t answer,” you said nonchalantly, whether he was listening or not, “Thought I might try and get you early morning and see what your temperament was like then.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was empty, but you didn’t mind so much. He might not have been sorry for his behaviour now, but you knew he would be eventually, when he pieced himself together a little. That was enough to keep you around, along with the little moments that made it worth it. Last week, you’d forced him into a walk through a park and mentally screamed with glee when he laughed at two squirrels chasing each other.

“Don’t be, we’re here now,” you said easily, “We’re going to eat breakfast on your tiny balcony and watch the sunrise like the world’s okay - okay?”

No response.

Still, the breakfast was all set so you brought both plates out onto the balcony and balanced Bucky’s on the rail while you tucked in to yours. You’d had to wait for him to join you before and you’d happily wait for him again.

It took him seven minutes. You were counting.

He nibbled at the food to start with but soon ate a lot more ravenously. It was likely a while since he’d had anything other than the box of cereal you’d seen in his bottom cupboard. Sam texted you yesterday to ask how he was since Bucky wasn’t replying to his texts, but it was difficult to say how he was. You’d both missed five years, but he’d missed a lot more over the last century. Sometimes it was hard for him to see what he still had.

“Why are you here?”

It was a question he’d asked you before. There was only one answer.

“Because I want to be.”

There was nothing else to say. You stood and watched the sunrise over the rooftops in a swirl of pinks and oranges until every last shade melted into the brilliant blue of the daytime. Bucky watched too, and even if his mind was elsewhere, you were just glad he was here. With you. You hoped eventually it would be enough.

---

three

“We shouldn’t be here,” your whispers were harsh in the dark room and Bucky glared at you until you lowered your voice further, “We cannot be here right now.”

“If we don’t do this, nobody will,” Bucky reminded you, still glued to the window as he kept watch of the road. Technically you and Sam were meant to be resting and your watch didn’t start for another half hour, but you were nervous and awake and the silence was beginning to get to you. Sam’s soft snores from the other room were a lovely reassurance that he was safe and peaceful, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Maybe nobody should, Bucky,” you insisted, coming over to lean against the wall he stood beside so that he had to face you, “We were just starting to get somewhere back at home. You were just starting to get somewhere, you know, with the therapy and the amends and everything. Now we’re off chasing bad guys like we’re Avengers again!”

His look towards you was sharp.

“I was never an Avenger.”

You huffed out a breath at his indignance.

“You could have been,” you said, quieter still, “You should have been. But now, after everything, I don’t want to be that anymore. I quit. I quit a long time ago.”

“Then go home.”

“You really want me to?”

It was an unfair question. You knew he didn’t, but you also knew he was too proud. That he  didn’t like to think about the fact that he was the sole reason you were here, risking your life again in the pursuit of a justice you’d all but given up on. Guilt was enough to poison your conversation beyond repair, if you let it.

“I don’t want you to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said instead, a fact rather than a real answer. A cop out. You shook your head, frustration seeping out of you as you turned your back to the wall and tilted your head back against it to stare at the ceiling. You could see Bucky’s gaze still trained on the road outside, refusing to even spare you a glance. It was infuriating.

“And I don’t want you here but we don’t always get what we want, Barnes.”

He didn’t respond right away, but you did see his eyes flicker over to you then back to the road, and it felt like a little bit of progress. It was a good few minutes before he spoke again.

“I think the therapy is helping too,” he whispered, not reacting when you rolled your head to the side to stare at him again, “But it’s not enough. Nothing ever will be. Doing stuff like this, saving peoples’ lives? That’s the closest I can get to making up for what I did.”

“It wasn’t you-”

“I know. Doesn’t matter.”

You wondered whether you would ever be able to convince the man in front of you that nothing he had ever done to hurt others was even remotely through fault of his own. Wondered if all the therapy and the coaxing and the amends would fall short of that one simple task. Guilt was enough to poison your mind beyond repair too, if you let it.

You were beyond determined not to let it.

“Matters to me,” you said, soft and forgiving, “And to Sam. And to Steve too, when he was here. Matters to a lot of people.”

There was something else on the tip of your tongue. You matter to a lot of people. It felt too vague. Not enough and yet too much for the humid European hotel room you were holed up in. Bucky was silent again, but this time you could see that he was just getting his thoughts together. You could see the faintest tremble in his hand as he held the blinds at just the right angle for his vantage point.

“Thank you.”

You...hadn’t been expecting that. It was much more usual for Bucky to show his gratitude to you and to others over the past few months. He brought by extra groceries when he got his own, squeezed your shoulder when he got up to grab drinks from his fridge, even bought you flowers that one time. It was rare of him to say it, though.

“What for?”

“Wanting to be here.”

You scoffed at that. It couldn’t be further from the truth, and yet here you were. Maybe he was onto something. You doubted you’d still be saying that in a few hours when the so-called bad guys showed up and you had to actually fight them. For now, there was a truth to his words you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

“I don’t,” you said, deadpan and teasing all at once, “Want to be here, that is. But you’re welcome anyway, I guess.”

You saw his lips turn up in a smirk or a smile, it was hard to tell from this angle with only a small square of filtered light on his face from the window. Sunlight. That meant sunrise. You moved closer to the window and manoeuvred so that you could see through the slats. Sure enough, the sky was a shade of dawn peach, even if the sun was hidden from view by the cityscape.

The last sunrise you’d seen was over six months ago and had been shared with the same man. The same silence. This one was just slightly more comfortable.

“I don’t want you to go home,” he murmured, no more than a breath of air leaving his lips, “Just, by the way.”

It was your turn to smile or smirk or whatever it was. You had already known, of course, but it was nice to hear him say it. It was a good job Sam was asleep or he’d be telling you to ‘get a room’ again.

“I know,” you said with a small nod, then your smile became a grin of pure mischief, “You want to play I-spy?”

A loud groan.

“I’m not playing I-spy with you, Y/N-”

“Why not! I won’t cheat this time, I promise-”

“You say that every time, and yet-”

“Okay, I do not say it every time you-”

“You say it every time!”

When Sam walked through from the bedroom later and found you defending your choice of the word ‘Darkness’ as Bucky sat slumped with his head in his hands, he wondered why he’d let either of you take watch in the first place.

---

four

A year. A whole year. There was a lot you could do in a year. You could build a business. Grow a herb garden in a series of ill-fitting plant pots on your balcony. Learn a new skill. Forge a new friendship. Fall in love.

You could also miss people. A lot. So much, in fact, that when the date that you lost them rolls around again, any progress you made in that last year is rendered insignificant.

Especially when you’re sitting on a park bench and they’re not sat beside you.

You missed Nat. You missed Tony. Missed Wanda and Vision and Steve and Thor. Some of them weren’t even gone, just out in the universe somewhere, yet to return. You weren’t sure they ever would. Part of you hoped they had found something wonderful, something to eclipse all the grief and the loss and make them whole again. Then they’d never have to come back and see you so different to the person they used to know.

You were vaguely aware that somebody had sat down in the space next to you now, which frustrated you more than you’d admit to anyone. You pressed the palms of your hands into the wood of the bench until the contact stung.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Bucky. Of course. Your hands relaxed without conscious thought. When you turned, there he was, looking at you with just the slightest tinge of apprehension. Like he knew he was intruding, but he did it anyway. He was growing his hair out again. It was nice.

“You know me that well?”

“This is the fourth place I came to,” he admitted, looking down at his shoes as he kicked at a particularly interesting tuft of grass, “But fourth isn’t bad, right?”

“Fourth isn’t bad,” you assured him, “But you didn’t need to come. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been out all night, Y/N,” he said gently, like he was the bearer of bad news. In fact, he was, because you had no idea it had been that long. When you looked upward and saw a murky grey instead of the pitch black that had stained the sky when you sat down, you shivered, “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“You know that’s a bad idea, especially today. We should do something else.”

“Like what?”

You gave him a withering look that he didn’t deserve, but he took it in stride. He hopped up from the bench and held out a hand to you, leaving it there when you didn’t take it right away.

“There’s a fair in town a couple of blocks away. We’re going.”

“A fair? Are you kidding?”

“Nope,” he said seriously, no room for argument in his tone. He even reached forward and grabbed your hands from the bench, pulling you up to a stand despite your groan of protest. It took a few moments to stretch out your legs before he let go, “We’re going to a fair. You’re going to crash into me on the dodgems enough times for me to want to press charges, then I’ll buy you all the cotton candy you can eat.”

“Is this really the right thing to do on the anniversa-”

“What would they want us to do? Sit on a park bench and wish they were sat here with us?”

You glared at him, but it was meek. Tony would laugh at you for doing this. Nat would roll her eyes at your sentimentality. It would just make Steve sad to see you sad. Bucky was right, even if you refused ever to utter those words in that order.

“Will you win me the biggest teddy bear we can find? Because if not, I don’t see the point of going.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he offered you his arm nonetheless and you took it as you started walking in what you could only assume was the direction of the fair. You briefly wondered how many dates he might have taken to the fair back in his day, how many had hung off his arm and grinned at him all night. None of them had been with this Bucky before though, you reminded yourself, this new rough-around-the-edges Bucky, trying-his-best Bucky. Shiny, polished 1940s Sergeant Barnes was far less your type anyway.

“You know, if I do try and win you a teddy, it’s going to look like we’re on a date.”

So clearly his train of thought had aligned with yours. Without much care for the consequences and with a courage that only came from the thought of missed chances, you slid your arm out of his and took his hand instead, sliding your fingers through his gloved ones. It was his metal hand, you could quickly tell, but you weren’t going to let him pull away when he realised which hand you’d latched onto.

“Would that be so bad?”

He looked down at you like any second now you were going to realise which hand you were holding and want to swap sides, or like you were going to throw him away and ask for a new one. You held firm. When he realised you had no intention of changing anything, you felt his hand push a little firmer against your own, his fingers slot further into place. You really wanted to pull the glove off and entangle your fingers with the metal underneath to make a point, but you decided that could wait a little longer.

“So...this is a date?”

He just had to spell it out. You’d just held his hand, but he still had to check. It was endearing honestly, so despite your reluctance to share too much, you knew you needed to be forthcoming for him to believe that this was anything real.

“I would really like it if it was, Bucky,” you said, in an attempt to be as clear as possible. You curled your other hand around his bicep and suppressed a wide grin when you saw the smile your statement had brought out of him. He was trying to keep his cool too.

You were both failing miserably.

“Well, that works out then.”

You laughed, squeezing him a little closer and relishing in the fact that he didn’t move away, but instead pulled you into his side. The shadows of the street were brighter every minute that passed, even though the actual sunrise was hidden from view by the apartment blocks and skyscrapers that surrounded you.

And if the newfound warmth you felt was from the sparks that flew each time your shoulder bumped his rather than the break of a new day, you weren’t giving anything away.

---

+the one you missed

“Bucky?”

You’d managed to get the door open with a little more effort than it should have taken. Your muscles were still sore from training the new recruits yesterday, though you wouldn’t have had it any other way. The fact that Sam had found something so perfectly suited to your skill set without the danger you had been trying to avoid was something you were still trying to repay him for.

Now, you were up on the roof and stretching out your left arm as you looked around for some sign of the man who’d called to invite you here last night and insisted that, yes, it was necessary to meet this early in the morning and no, he couldn’t tell you why.

“Over here, genius.”

You turned. There he was. A blanket was set out next to him and when one corner of it folded over in the chilling breeze, he scrambled to smooth it out again. You chuckled quietly as you made your way over to him and gestured to the little oasis he’d created for the both of you.

“What’s all this, mister?”

“Our anniversary, baby.”

It was a newfound nickname, one that still sent a thrill through you every time you heard it. The fondness laced within it was something you hadn’t even gotten used to yet, but you could see yourself wondering how you ever lived without it sometime soon.

“We’ve been together for four months, Buck, I don’t think we have an anniversary just yet,” you said, just a little nervous that you were forgetting something. Bucky looked smug enough that you thought he was more likely to be concocting a scheme instead, but you took his hand and let him lead you to sit down anyway.

“I haven’t told you what anniversary it is,” he assured you as he sat down beside you on the other cushion, pulling a picnic basket from behind him into the center of the blanket. You hoped that he wasn’t about to pull out a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, because the idea of him feeding you anything was enough to put you in stitches.

It was a pleasant surprise when he pulled out two styrofoam cups that smelled chocolatey. When he passed you one and you took an eager sip, you hummed at the hot chocolate in the cup. When he then pulled out a couple of plates and a half and half pizza that suited both of you, the elated laugh you let out was practically involuntary.

“Whatever it is, can we have this anniversary more often?”

You both laughed and although you wanted to push more on what the occasion was, Bucky plated up your pizza for you and you ended up fully distracted by the delicious food and the dashing company.

There was a comfort that came with being by Bucky’s side that you weren’t sure you’d ever found previously. A certain sense of pride came too, from knowing that you could provide some of that same comfort to Bucky in return. Sam was sick of the two of you already. Of course.

“You want to play I-spy?” you asked quietly once you’d finished eating, lying back on the blanket and tugging on Bucky’s jacket to encourage him to join you. He grumbled slightly, but he soon lay back beside you until the back of his fingers were just brushing your own. You didn’t tangle them together just yet, because the anticipation was still so sweet.

“You know I don’t.”

“What if I promise not to choose ‘darkness’?”

“Let me guess, you’re thinking of something beginning with U?”

“Oh come on- wait, how did you know?”

He rolled his head to the side to look at you and you mirrored his position, noses just an inch from each other.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft and you could feel the words against your lips, “You can’t see the universe.”

You were ready to argue your case, but Bucky’s face was just too close to your own. Letting the discussion go (only for now), you leaned in and pressed a series of chaste kisses along the underside of his jaw. You were only cut short when he became impatient, cupping your face in both hands and bringing you into a kiss that made your toes curl in your shoes.

You had to turn over onto your side properly, shuffle around on the blanket a little, but the kiss still felt pretty perfect. When he sat up, he took you with him, pushing further into you as the kiss grew heated. One of his hands was in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist under your shirt, the cold metal contrasting feverish skin sending sparks up your spine. You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck and grinned at the groan that escaped him as he pulled back just enough to breathe.

“It’s been a year,” he panted out urgently, like he’d been waiting all night to tell you because he had been waiting all night to tell you. He’d been waiting a whole year, if he were being honest.

“A year?”

“Since I fell in love with you,” he explained simply, only continuing when you stared at him dumbfounded and didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, “That day I wouldn’t let you in and you brought me breakfast. We watched the sunrise in silence and that...that was it for me.”

You’d exchanged ‘I love you’s before, just a few weeks ago. Not that it was intended, but he had sent you a postcard while he was on a week long mission - an actual postcard, full of innocuous details about the location rather than anything mission related. A cheesy little ‘wish you were here’ at the end that made your heart swell. It was inevitable, really, when you called him three minutes after you read it and told him you loved him.

You got his voicemail, but you said it anyway, and the reaction you got from him when you were finally reunited a few days later told you that you’d made the right call.

However, him telling you exactly when he’d fallen in love with you? That was new. Unexpected. Another part of his soul laid bare before you even though you were content with the pieces he’d already shared. You had always kept them safe, tucked away in your top pocket, close to your own heart. Now you had another piece of him to carry around with you and you couldn’t feel more honoured.

“You…” it was natural to want to question it first, but you stopped short. Accepting what he’d said first time would be a much better sign of your trust, and you needed him to know how much you reciprocated everything, “You’ve been it for me for a long time.”

You were still short of breath, but there were no complaints when he pulled you in for another kiss. Softer. Slower. The heat from before now spread through to your fingers and your toes and became an overwhelming warmth instead. It was a warmth that Bucky had brought into your life ever since you’d decided to stick together amongst the death and the destruction.

Some of that warmth might have been from the sun, which was steadily rising and painting the dark sky and with a whole new colourful palette. Bucky had chosen this time in the morning specifically so that you could create a new tradition of watching the sunrise every year just like this, had planned to create something that the two of you would remember forever.

He only realised this about half an hour after the sun had fully risen but it didn’t matter. The memory was already carved in stone and outlined with gold marker in both of your minds.

---

Thank you for reading this far! <3 I’m not tagging anyone, because it’s been a long time and I’d hate to suddenly pop up in people’s mentions without any warning after so long when they may not want me there. If this has found you anyway, then I count myself super lucky to have you here, thank you!

[joontopia]

Summer in December | KTH

pairing:  kim taehyung x reader        ↳ hufflepuff!taehyung x slytherin!reader

rating: nsfw, 18+

genre: hogwarts!au, friends to lovers!au, fluff

warnings: mild angst (?), reader is a little whiny about the weather (im so sorry idk why i did that), mentions of alcohol consumption, some cute hand holding, sweet kisses

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my secret santa gift to the lovely @sly-merlin​ for @kafenetwork​ Holiday Treat event! I hope you enjoy this! It’s been so fun getting to know you the past weeks! ♥️🐧 penguin

Also, thank you to my lovely soul-twin-mate @escapingreality4now​ for reading over this and editing it for me. you the bestest and i love you so much *smoochies*. And thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for helping me fix my banner issue last minute, i appreciate you and love you!

Rain. That is what has been falling from the grey, cloudy sky for the last three days. Cold, pelting droplets of evaporated water are what you have shared your days with during this cold winter. Not the beautiful, white fluff that was promised in the forecast. Not the very weather that you stayed at school for over winter break instead of going somewhere summer-y with your family. No, that would just have been too perfect. Sitting at your table at the Three Broomsticks, you let out a sigh as you stare out the window, elbow perched on the table as your chin rests in your hand. It was nearly four in the afternoon, though you couldn’t tell by the vacancy left from the sun in the sky hidden behind darkened storm clouds. When you agreed to stay as one of the prefects on duty, you were hoping it would come with days spent playing in the snow. Building snow people, and having the occasional snowball fight. Not trudging through mud puddles and slipping on hidden ice patches. You nearly slip into another day dream when you’re interrupted by the barmaid approaching your table. 

“What’ll it be, dear?” The barmaid asks, a bright smile painted across her face despite the dreary atmosphere set by the disappointing weather.

“Oh um, two butterbeers, please,” you order as you sit up in your seat, trying your best to return a cheery smile as bright as hers. She lifts her brow at you with twinkling curiosity and a hint of laughter in her eyes.

“Terms that bad this year?” She asks with a teasing smile. 

You giggle, appreciating the light lift of the mood as you join in on the jest, “No, just the temperament of the weather.” You both let out a soft chuckle, your smile matching hers slightly more realistically with the slight change in mood. “I’m actually meeting someone, they should be here soon. They’re not both for me.” As if on cue, you both turn to the entrance at the bell chime of the door, signaling a new customer. Standing there was your friend and fellow Slytherin prefect, Ohria, searching the bar for where you sat. Once she spots you in the corner by the window, she waves and smiles, walking toward you with her cheeks rosy pink from the cold outside. 

“No judgement here, dear. Just poking fun. I’ll have those right out for you two,” the barmaid says as she turns back to you. She gives you a light pat on your shoulder and a wink before walking back towards the bar, nodding her head in greeting to Ohria as she makes it to the table, sitting in the vacant seat across from you. You sit back in your chair, smiling at your friend as she starts removing her scarf in coat.

“Sorry, I’m late! Had to make sure Joonie had everything he needed for the next two weeks packed and ready to go. For how smart that man is, he sure can be forgetful,” Ohria rolls her eyes in feign annoyance, the shy smile and blush of her cheeks giving away her true feelings of adoration for her boyfriend. “He’s meeting me here when he’s done if that’s okay. We’ll be leaving in the next hour or so.”

“No worries, it’s fine. I can’t believe you’re going to be visiting Korea. Leaving me here with the sleet and rain while you get to go build your snow creations of your future children with Namjoon.” Your bottom lip pushes out in a pout just a little as Ohria sticks her tongue out at you. You were happy for her, really. At least one of you will get to enjoy some snowy fun during the holiday break. 

“Oh come on, cheer up. I’ll be back before you know it and so will the snow. Besides, Joonie told me a certain Hufflepuff prefect is staying during the break as well. Maybe that can preoccupy your time before I get back, hmm?” Ohria teases you as she wriggles her eyebrows. 

You feel your cheeks warm, knowing the exact Hufflepuff prefect she was referring to. A one very handsome and tall Kim Taehyung, your classmate and longtime crush. You spent the better half of this school year innocently flirting with one another, enough to make you wonder if he felt and cared for you the same way you do him. You smile as you look away from Ohria, watching as the barmaid approaches with your drinks, placing them in front of you. You thank her before turning and continuing your conversation with, “As wonderful as that would be, I highly doubt Taehyung would want to spend the majority of his winter break with me.”

“Oh, please. He practically can’t keep his eyes off of you when you’re near each other. The both of you really. Just ask him. Besides, what else would there be for the two of you to do here but hangout with each other?” Ohria says before taking a drink, her last words more of statement rather than a question. 

You let out a little sigh, knowing there was no sense in arguing her point. You grab your drink, taking a sip as you ponder her words for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. But how do you suggest I even ask him? I wouldn’t even know where to start to find him. Just show up at his common room door and wait until he leaves?”

Ohria hums in contemplation before turning to look out the window, smiling slyly at whatever caught her eye. “Looks like you won’t have to,” she says nodding her head towards the window causing you to turn and take a look yourself. 

There walking past the window and towards the front door was Namjoon and Taehyung, the former holding his wand up as a clear light emits from the tip, forming into a makeshift umbrella for the two men. You feel your cheeks flush again as Ohria turns in her seat, waving the two boys over to your booth. You look up as they make it to the table, smiling as you make eye contact with Taehyung. You notice his cheeks are colored with a rosy hint as he returns a smile to you. You try to not think much of it, using the cold weather outside to be the cause. Ohria stands up from her seat, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss before sliding into the empty seat next to you, the two boys taking up the seats across. The barmaid approaches again, taking the boys order and returning again shortly with two more mugs of butter beer.

“Dreary weather, isn’t it?” Namjoon asks, breaking the silence before taking a big drink from his glass. Everyone nods as you hum in response, finding it suddenly hard to form words with Taehyung sitting across from you. You’re not sure why you find it hard to speak to him this time, always joking and conversing during the school year. Maybe the possibility of some possible time alone has you feeling slightly off your game. 

“How are you, YN? I hear you’re also staying here during the break,” Taehyung asks, softly smiling as he waits for your response. You smile back, lips beginning to part in response when Ohria jumps in and answers for you instead.

“Yes, she is! Sadly, I’m leaving her all by her lonesome for a while,” she says with a pout, wrapping her hands around your arm and laying her head on your shoulder. “You’ll take good care of her for me, Taetae, won’t you?”

You give Ohria a little pinch on her thigh and she lets out a tiny squeak, letting go of your arm. She lightly swats your arm before scooting away from you, Namjoon looking at her curiously as Tae shoots up an eyebrow and chuckles.

“It would be my pleasure. What do you say, YN? Mind keeping me company during the break?” He gives you another boxy smile and you smile big in return.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you manage to squeak out, nudging Ohria with your elbow as she starts to giggle again next to you. 

Namjoon jumps in, talking about the plans he’s made for him and Ohria once they get to Korea. Taehyung throws out his own suggestions and you add your own commentary here and there, easing you and your friends into easy conversation. Before long, another hour has passed. Namjoon looks down at his watch before announcing his and Ohria’s time to go. Everyone stands up from the table, leaving tips and payment on the table for the barmaid before walking towards the door. 

Ohria turns to give you a hug before Namjoon begins helping her back into her winter coat. “If you need me, I’m only an owl away. I’ll be back before you know it. Promise me you’ll enjoy yourself?” 

“I promise,” you tell her. Waving to her as she follows Namjoon out the door, blowing you a kiss before it closes.

“Mind if I walk you back to the castle?” Taehyung asks you, wrapping his scarf around his neck as he looks down at you. 

You nod your head and smile, grabbing your winter coat off the hook on the wall. Taehyung reaches and grabs it from you, catching you by surprise. “Let me help you with that,” he says as he holds it open for you. You give him a shy thanks as you slip it on. He rubs his hands down your arm once it’s secure, his hand slightly brushing yours as he moves around you and opens the door. You were happy to see a break in the rain fall, allowing for the walk back be a little less treacherous in the cold. 

“So what would you like to do this break?” You ask, looking up at the tall man walking next to you. 

“Hmm,” he hums, puffs off transparent smoke coming from his mouth as he breathes out into the cold air. “I got a few ideas. I can run some by you now and we can discuss it over breakfast in the morning?”

“Sounds good,” you say with a smile. Taehyung smiles back at you as you both fall into another easy conversation on your way back up to the castle.

Rain, again.  You can’t see it, the sleeping quarters of the Slytherin dungeons lacking windows, but you can hear it hitting the ground above. And it’s coming down hard. You roll out of bed, your movements sluggish as you get ready for the day. You make your way into the common room, stretching your arms in the air as a yawn overtakes you. The room is nearly vacant. Only a pair of 2nd years hanging out on the couch sharing their collection of wizarding cards with each other. The door swings open, Yuta walks into the common room, looking around the room until he spots you and smiles. “Ah, Y/L/N. Perfect timing. You got a visitor outside.” 

You tilt your head to the side, wondering who would be coming to see you when your memory hits you. Your promised breakfast with Taehyung. Your eyes go wide as your cheeks heat up and you quickly make your way to the door. “Ah, yes. Thank you,” you say as you give a quick smile and wave to Yuta. He lets out a snicker walking past you further into the common room. 

Once outside, you see Taehyung leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted down towards the floor. When he hears the wall covering the door to the common room open, he looks up, blinking the tiredness out of his eyes. His boxy smile takes over his face when he sees you.

“Good morning,” he says, his low baritone dripping from his mouth like honey as he walks over to you. He gives you a quick hug, a kiss landing on your check right before he pulls away. You feel your cheeks warm again, a big smile forming on your face as you begin to walk side by side towards the dining hall.

“Good morning,” you squeak out. You clear your throat, your voice still hidden behind your own sleepiness. “How did you sleep?” 

“Not bad. Rain helped lull me to sleep. The smell of breakfast from the kitchen woke me up. How about --”

“Watch out!”

You both stop quickly in your tracks from the shout coming from a sideroom to your right. A white wisp in the shape of a dolphin zooms in front of you, dissipating into nothing as it crashes into the wall on the other side. 

“Sorry about that!” You turn to the doorway of the sideroom. Your classmate, Jimin, stands there rubbing the back of his head with one of his hands. A sheepish smile on his face as he looks at you and Taehyung.

You let out a giggle as you smile back. “It’s alright, it looked harmless. What were you doing with that dolphin though?” 

“Ah, I’ll show you. But you gotta keep it a secret, okay?” Jimin waves you two into the sideroom and you both follow him. There in the empty room, you see an oversized snow globe. Colorful wisps of smoke inside swapping from shapes of hearts into waves of water.

“I was trying to get that dolphin into here. It’s a Christmas gift for my girlfriend, Tina. I’ve been struggling with Charms class this year and she’s been helping me out. Her patronus is a dolphin, so I figured this would be something she’d enjoy.” Jimin waves his wand in the air, a new cloud of wisps spout from the tip, once again forming into a dolphin. He flicks his wrist, the dolphin successfully jumping into the water of the snow globe this time as he turns to you and Taehyung and smiles. You both clap your hands in applause as he bows, his eyes disappearing from the wide smile on his face when he stands straight.

“That looks awesome! I’m sure she’ll love it!” Tae praises.

“It’s really cute, Jimin. You did great!” You smile at him as you start to turn back out of the room. “We were just on our way to breakfast if you wanted to join us.”

Jimin shakes his head, smiling the whole time from your praises. “I’m going to work on this a bit more, but I’ll see you guys up there. Thanks!” He gives you a wave goodbye as you and Tae walk back out of the room, continuing your way towards the great hall.

Your first full day spent with Taehyung was wonderful. Something you needed to help take your mind off the mundaneness that has been the winter weather. It’s the next morning. You once again find yourself in the great hall, sitting across from Tae and Jimin as they are both talking animatedly about the last quidditch match that took place before the break. Your eyes are on Tae, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down as he speaks. The way the soft curls of his hair bounce just slightly when he laughs. He flashes his boxy smile, the sight of it taking you back to the day before. 

After breakfast, you had both played a few rounds of wizard’s chess. You won every game but the last, finding the pout Tae gave you every time he lost was too cute for you to go easy on him. After each loss, he would jut out his bottom lip, begging you with matching puppy dog eyes for one more rematch. Only stopping once he finally came out the victor.

You spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the courtyards of the school grounds. The rain seemingly subsided for the day, leaving little puddles of water scattered on the ground. Finding a dry bench, you sit down next to Tae. He took the chance to entertain the two of you by charming the puddles, using droplets of water to create figure skaters that would glide across the surface or little fish and dolphins hopping back and forth across the puddles. You couldn’t help your giggles, how your eyes lit up in fascination as the figures danced across the water. You remember looking over at Taehyung, how your breath caught in your throat at the way he was watching you. His eyes warm with adoration as his signature boxy smile graced his face. You wonder if it was your hopeful thoughts playing tricks on you, the way it seemed like he was leaning in towards you. The moment being interrupted by the sky once again falling out. You were remembering how the warmth of his hand felt in yours as he pulled you to run for cover when the sound of your name pulled you from the daydream.

Back in the present, you notice Tae and Jimin looking at you expectantly. You blink owlishly at them, slight embarrassment creeping in as you realize you have no idea what they asked you. “S-sorry, what was that?” you stammer, looking down at your plate to hide your blush as Jimin snickers at you.

“Lunch at The Three Broomsticks and then afterwards we do a little walking or shopping. What do you think?” Tae repeats, a hopeful expression on his face. 

You go to respond when you’re interrupted by excited gasps that fill the great hall. “It’s starting to snow!” you hear someone shout. You look up at the enchanted ceiling, the previously dark clouds now turning a light shade of grey as little snow flurries start to fall. A wide smile grows on your face as you look back down at Taehyung who's already watching you with a smile of his own. 

“Let’s go get dressed,” he says, standing from the table. You follow him, rushing out of the great hall with the rest of the students. Tae turns towards the direction of the Hufflepuff common room, shouting over his shoulder “I’ll meet you back here!” before disappearing out of sight.

You run with Jimin to the Slytherin common room, racing up the stairs to your dorm to dress in something warmer. Your smile never leaves your face, excitement coursing through your entire body. The snow is here. Finally. The weather you have been waiting to see since you decided to stay at school for the holidays finally made its appearance. Dressed in your thick winter coat, you make your way out of the dungeons, walking back to meet Tae in front of the great hall. Once there, Taehyung’s face lights up with another smile. He offers his gloved hand to you and you take it, speeding up to keep up with his long strides as he pulls you to the doors leading outside.

The moment you step outside, you're met with the disappointed grumbles of other students, passing you as they walk back into the castle. Taking a few more steps outside, you turn the corner to see what has caused everyone to be so upset and your face drops. The snow flurries that fell from the sky not too long ago have turned back into cold, icy rain. Washing away any evidence of the snow that had barely stuck to the ground.

“Dang, I knew it was too good to be true,” Tae mumbles as he lets out a sigh, still holding your hand as he stands next to you. You shared his disappointment. Maybe a little too much with how quickly you could feel your mood turning south. You watch the rain, suddenly feeling the desire to be alone. The dreary weather sucking all the motivation for fun out of you. Dropping your hand from Tae’s, you turn back towards the castle to walk back inside.

Feeling the loss of your hand, Tae turns around and follows you. “I’m sorry, YN. I know you’ve been looking forward to the snow.”

You give Tae a soft smile, looking back down at your feet as you continue to walk back inside. “It’s okay, Tae. It’s not like you can control the weather.” Your attempt at a joke at the end is delivered poorly due to your mood. You can tell by the forced smile Tae gives you as he watches you with a sorrowful expression. Once back inside, Tae places his hand on your shoulder to stop you and you turn to face him. “We can still have a good time in Hogsmeade. You still want to go?”

You give him another soft smile, trying your best to make it look genuine. You want to go, you really do. But just the mere thought of spending anymore time out in the miserable, cold rain sinks your mood even lower. You know you would be no fun to be around like this. “I’m actually not feeling too well. Could’ve been something I ate. I’m just gonna take it easy for the day. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You turn and start to walk away, barely hearing Tae’s “yeah, see ya” as you wave him goodbye over your shoulder. You make your way back to the Slytherin common room and towards your bed, planning on curling up in the warm sheets and hope tomorrow is a better day.

It’s been two days since you’ve seen Taehyung. Only catching him in brief passing at breakfast the morning after the teased snow day. You had every intention to apologize to him for your attitude, feeling guilty for having felt like you took your bad day out on him. Only he didn't give you the chance with how quickly he ran out of the great hall, saying something about needing to speak with Professor Flitwick and that he’ll catch you later. You didn’t see him for the rest of the day. The next day, you didn’t even see him at breakfast, only being made aware of his absence from an owl he sent explaining how he was going to be busy in the library the whole day. You couldn’t help but feel like he was avoiding you.

Making your way into the dining, you see Jimin waving you over, handing you a letter as you sit across from him. You open it, half expecting another letter of avoidance from Taehyung. You were happy to see that it was from Ohria, gushing about her trip with Namjoon to Korea. Wishing you a happy holiday and how she can’t wait to hear how your week has been going. You fold the letter and place it in your back pocket before filling your plate with food. You’re near down with your food when you spot a familiar figure running up to you from the corner of your eye. You turn towards him, standing from your seat as he reaches you.

“Oh, great! You’re here,” he says, grabbing your hand as he starts to pull you towards the entrance. “Come on, I have something to show you!” You stumble a little as you try to keep up with him. As you step into the hallway outside of the great hall, you decide now is as good as time as any to finally apologize.

“Tae, wait,” you say, tugging on his hand to stop him. He looks back at you, eyes wide as he looks at you, waiting for whatever you're about to say. “I want to apologize.”

He furrows his brow, turning to face you completely as he takes your other hand in his. “What? What do you have to apologize for?”

“The other day. I wasn’t in the best mood, and I was kinda rude to you. I just… I didn’t know if that’s why you were avoiding me the last two days.” 

Tae smiles at you. He lets go of one of your hands, lifting his now free hand to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, causing your cheeks to warm from the sudden touch. “I didn’t mean for you to think I was avoiding you. My absence does have to do with that day, but not because you were rude. Which you weren’t, by the way,” he reassures you, tapping the tip of your nose. Your lips turning up into a smile from the cuteness. “Just follow me, yeah? That’s what I want to show you.” You nod your head, following Tae as he continues to lead you through the hall and out the doors into the castle grounds.

“Tae, wait! I don’t have my coat,” you whine. Tae pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around you as he continues to lead you to your destination.

“I know, I got it covered. Just trust me.” 

You go to argue, your words cut short when you see a large dome in the middle of the courtyard. In the dome, you see a cute little forest setting. Snow littering the ground and the tops of the evergreen trees. You’re at a loss for words, only a subtle whisper of a “wow” leaves your lips as you look at the enchanted globe in awe. 

Tae watches you carefully, drinking in the sight of your amazement. He grabs your hand again, pulling you closer to the dome and inside. He smiles at the giggles you let out while you step onto the snow. He commits to memory the beautiful smile that adorns your face with each crunch of your step across the snowy surface. He walks you to the middle of the dome, turning to face you once you reach it. “This is what I’ve been up to the last few days. Trying to learn how to control the weather.” 

You let out a snort at his joke, how he parroted your words back to you. You lightly push his shoulder, a big smile covering his face as he watches you walk around the globe. He pulls his wand out of his jacket pocket, pointing it up at the top of the globe as he gives a quick flick of his wrist. Suddenly, tiny snowflakes start falling from the top of the dome. You look up and close your eyes, smiling when you can feel the coolness of the fluffy ice land on your cheeks. Opening your eyes as you look down, you look back over at Taehyung as you continue to walk around the tiny winter wonderland. “You did this all for me?”

He nods his head, his eyes never leaving you as he watches you explore. “I wanted to see you smile. I love seeing you smile.”

You feel your own cheeks warm at his confession. Suddenly, you feel a little shiver run through your body from the chilly air. “This still doesn’t cover the fact that I don’t have my coat,” you tease as you walk back over to him. 

Tae laughs, shrugging off his coat and placing it around your shoulders. He points his wand back up to the top and flicks his wrist again. The top of the dome turns into the image of a shining sun and you can immediately feel the warming rays as if it was the actual sun in the sky. “Told you I got it covered,” he says as he winks at you. 

You look around, happy to see that the enchanted snow is still intact and not melting, the warming temperature from the charm not having any effect. You hear Taehyung clear his throat and you look back at him, noticing the light blush that now adorns his cheeks. “I learned one other thing,” he says nervously, once again flicking his wand, this time towards the nearest tree. 

You watch as a branch extends out above you, small leaves blooming until a big group of green leaves hangs over the two of you. You examine it, noticing the tiny white and red berries that are scattered through the cluster of green. “Mistletoe,” you breathe out in a whisper. 

You feel Taehyung's hand on your cheek, pulling your face back to look at him. His eyes twinkle with mirth as they meet yours, his lips turning up into a soft smile as he starts to lean in. “I know this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but I hope it at least made you happy.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down, closing the distance between you as you catch his lips in a soft, quick kiss. Breaking apart, Tae leans his forehead against yours as you both smile. “It’s absolutely perfect,” you reassure him, watching as his beautiful boxy smile once again graces his features just before he leans back in locking your lips in another kiss.

[iminye]

hey! yo! you mind talking a bit more about the extended fëanorian family ocs you have? how many there are, how they’re related, when they’re born, the rough arc of their life?

Hello thank you for your ask! No I don't mind talking about them at all! I love them all very much but please be prepared that this is going to be a long one and that I couldn't even fit everything I want to talk about in here

I have talked about Maglor's, Caranthir's and Curufin's wives before so I left them out on purpose. So I'm just going to talk about the third and fourth generation here.

If you exclude Elrond and Elros Maglor and his wife Cellin have four children and in order of their birth their names are Gilloth, Nelladon, Gilrin and Belegur. Gilloth has a son named Arrod, none of the other three are married or have children. Curufin and his wife Aiwë have one more child besides Celebrimbor, Aracundo. Celebrimbor himself has a son named Aenion. Caranthir and Calairie remain childless. I'm not sure yet where Gil-Galad belongs family wise in my headcanon but let's just assume he's Orodreth's son for convenience.

I don't exactly have stories for them all. Aracundo, Nelladon and Aenion are probably the most fleshed out one's when it comes to their stories but I love them all regardless.

A badly drawn family tree for reference. If you want some more details there are about 2k words of bullet points under the cut :)

Gilloth

Daughter of one of Maedhros's guards and Maglor's second in command

Born some time before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad

Both her parents die in the Nirnaeth, and she is taken in by Maglor and his wife Cellin and is raised as their daughter

Loses her voice during the War of Wrath but refuses to tell anyone how it happened (possible Trauma related?)

Helps Celebrimbor run Eregion in the S.A

Is very interested in architecture and has great talent

Also helps with the construction of Rivendell and moves there after Eregion falls

Has great impact on her siblings upbringing

She and Erestor start courting after Glorfindel locks them in a room together and only allows them out after Erestor confesses his feelings

They marry mid Third Age

Their only child is called Araráto or Arrod in Sindarin

Because Maglor has given all his children a father name (be they his real children or not) she got one as well

It's Tintanárë (Sparkling Fire)

She's very close with Aracundo especially during the latter half of the second Age and the early Third Age

Her favourite people in Middle Earth are dwarves. She gets along well with them and even learns some Khuzdul from Narvi because she can't just reveal the secret

She is very strong at Oswanë and uses is constantly to communicate

Elrond has a lot of headaches because she directs her absurd thoughts at him to annoy him

Arrod is her sunshine and she would die for him

Not a very good warrior but she's doing her best

Aracundo

Second Born son of Curufin and Aiwë of the Teleri

Fathername: Artafinwë (Exalted Finwë)

He's my depressed disaster gay

Tall boy™ (maybe even taller than Maedhros?)

Born: 464 F.A (same year as Turin because reasons) in Nargothrond

He doesn't remember his dad because his parents parted ways after the Lúthien incident

He grows up in Cirdans care because that's where his mom took him

His best friend growing up was Ereinion even though the other is several years older than him

He doesn't have a lot of temperament and is more like his mother, calm and sensitive

Fights in the War of Wrath as Ereinion's second in command but is more known for his strategies and not for his actions on the battlefield

He and Ereinion get married early into the Second Age (yes he's Gil-Galad's husband and they love each other very much fight me)

He goes absolutely berserk once he sees his brother used as a banner of Sauron's forces after Eregion falls and probably takes down half their army by himself

People who knew Maedhros had a very very vivid flashback that day

When his mother sails not long after he remains in Middle Earth to fight Sauron

He gets much more quiet and reserved after losing his brother, mother and nephew in one go

He is very much pro Last Alliance and openly supports Elendil but mostly because he wants to avenge Celebrimbor's death

Uh… you know who dies during that battle? Ereinion and Aracundo blames himself for it

He stops speaking and becomes a shadow of himself afterwards

Refuses both the crown and Vilya

Lives with Cirdan for some time but moves to Rivendell after Celebrían sails to support Elrond

Has no big part in the second ring war

He sails alongside Cirdan and Celeborn

His life gets from good to worse to tragic to suffering

But he gets reunited with Ereinion in Valinor so it's not a total tragedy

Nelladon

Maglor's and Cellin's first biological child

Born: 1700 S.A

Died: 2770 T.A.

Has Nerdanel's signature red hair but otherwise full on takes after his mother's side of the family

His fathername is Russanáro (copper fire)

Aso has the epithets Copperhead from the dwarves, Pityatinto (Little Sparkle) from his grandfather and Tyalmahto (Toymaker) from the Numenorians

Self sacrificing idiot (we'll get to that later)

His passion is toymaking but also woodworking but he's also a great singer and loves storytelling

For every new baby family member he makes an abundance of toys and when all of them grow up he travels the world to make toys for the children of other families

The only members of his own family to never receive a toy from him are his younger brother Belegur, as well as his cousins on his mother's side of the family (all of them are born after his death)

A very good boy, only wants to make the people happy

He finds Aenion again with the dwarves of Erebor after they establish their kingdom there

Tries to talk him into visiting their family but stays unsuccessful until his death

Speaking of his death and self sacrificing

He dies during Smaugs attack on Erebor while he tries to make time for Thrain and Thror to escape. He faces Smaug in the throne room with nothing more than a iron shield on him

And burns

He fully knew he was going to die but he did it for his friends

Probably aroace

Also the first member of the House of Fëanor to get re-embodied

Gilrin

Maglor's and Cellin's only biological daughter and Fëanor's only biological granddaughter

Born: 20 T.A.

Like Celegorm she takes after Miriel in terms of appearance but inherited her grandfather Tinwës blonde hair

Not the tallest but still like half an inch taller than Fëanor and Curufin

Has a lot of artistic talent and can paint life like images

She painted the wall painting of Isildur cutting of Sauron's finger only with a very bad sketch from Glorfindel and a mental image provided by Galadriel as a reference

Basically always happy and smiling

Hates it when she has one-sided conversations, feels like she's intruding somehow

Celebrían is her big idol and she was devastated when she got hurt and had to sail

Was even more devastated after Nelladons death and isolated herself for a while

Starts traveling with Gildor and his group from that point on to get some distraction and is among the elves who meet Frodo, Pippin and Sam in the Shire

Will not sail until her parents do

Does her best to support Aragorn as the new king of Gondor because she feels like that's what's she owes to Elrond and partially also Elros even though she never met him

The most Avarian out of her siblings

Belegur

Finwë 2.0

Seriously the boy looks like Finwë as much as Arwen looks like Lúthien

People find it quite disturbing (People are Maglor, Glorfindel and Cirdan)

Fathername: Cuináro (living fire)

Born: either 3019 T.A. or somewhere between 10 and 50 Fourth Age

Youngest member of the House of Fëanor even younger than his youngest nephew

Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and Arrod call him little uncle and he hates it (he loves it but pretends he hates it)

Spends most of his childhood in Gondor because his parents moved the like almost immediately to be with Aragorn and Arwen

Has a deeper connection to men than all of his other siblings (aside from Elros for obvious reasons)

He feels weird when he sees his best friends from childhood grow up, get children and then see those grow up and have children of their own all while he himself is still a child/teenager/going adult

When Elfwinë's son Éomund II. who he was closest with dies, Belegur is devastated

His relationship with mortality becomes rather complicated afterwards

Dedicated scholar and historian

Also only sails when his parents will

Has a very easy time befriending people

Probably the best warrior out of his biological siblings just because Gilrin hates fighting and Nelladon just doesn't care about weapons

In possession of the one Feanorian Braincell might as well have inherited it from his mother)

Aenion

Celebrimbor's son

Born somewhere between 1620 and 1680 S.A

I have no idea who his mother is, any suggestions?

Thought about making him the love child of Tyelpë and Annatar but this feels kinda weird but also hilarious

Looks like Curufin acts like Caranthir

Cantëacurufinwë™ (blame the fact that Tyelpë is called Nelyacurufinwë)

Aenion probably isn't his real mothername but he calls that himself and everyone just does the same

Grumpy cat™

Raised by dwarves after Eregion fell and stayed with Durin's line until the Sacking of Erebor (Thrain brought him to Rivendell)

Speaks almost no Sindarin but is fluent at Westron and Khuzdul

Has no interest in learning Quenya

Creative use of swear words

A Smith like almost everyone else in his father's line

If he is Sauron's child, he has very much cat eyes and you can't convince me otherwise, also the Ring would probably love him

He goes back to Erebor after the dwarves retake it and helps them rebuild it

Feels very guilty for Nelladons death because he couldn't convince him to flee with him

Can't look Cellin or Maglor in the eye because of this

Fights during the War of the Ring alongside the Dwarves of Erebor

Sails with Gimli and Legolas

Arrod

Son of Gilloth and Erestor

Born sometime after his parents wedding

Takes more after his father in terms of appearance but has been influenced a lot by Glorfindel growing up

A total goof

One of the elves who 'greet' Thorin and company when they arrive in Rivendell

Gets into unnecessary fights very often

Very protective

Loves Estel to death and is very sad when Aragorn grows up and doesn't want to be carried around piggyback style anymore

Does it anyways

Idk I have not thought about him a lot

Here and here are Picrews that visualise them :) || Tolkien OC Overview here

[destinychose]

NOVA  :  GENSHIN IMPACT VERSE .

INTRODUCTION :  A strange teenager whose origins are as mysterious as she is. There are plenty of rumours about where she might have come from following her sudden appearance in Mondstadt, half of which were created by the very subject of such rumours herself. A troublemaker through and through, Nova revels in the chaos they cause wherever they walk, the sound of her laughter and the tiny bells attached to her hair ringing throughout the streets.

NAME :  Danica, Даница  Nova VOICE :  伊藤 かな恵, Itō Kanae  /  Jessica DiCicco AGE :  16 GENDER :  Demigirl PRONOUNS :  She / Her  ( They / Them - amongst close friends ) HEIGHT :  4′11″ BIRTHDAY :  26/06 BIRTHPLACE :  Snezhnaya

AFFILIATION :  Herself, or whoever she decides she likes at the time. OCCUPATION :  Traveller VISION :  Anemo CONSTELLATION :  Vulpecula ( “little fox” )

TEMPERAMENT :  Choleric  /  Sanguine MORAL ALIGNMENT :  Chaotic Neutral MYERS BRIGGS :  ESTP ENNEAGRAM :  8

POSITIVE TRAITS :

Adventurous  /  Assertive  /  Clever  /  Confident  /  Curious  /  Energetic  /  Independent  /  Loyal  /  Observant  /  Outspoken  /  Persistent  /  Playful  /  Spontaneous

NEGATIVE TRAITS :

Abrasive  /  Boisterous  /  Childish  /  Demanding  /  Devious  /  Disobedient  /  Greedy  /  Impatient  /  Impulsive  /  Insensitive  /  Proud  /  Sarcastic  /  Selfish

LIKES :

Sweet foods, stealing things from people who definitely don’t need it, pestering Fatui agents, napping somewhere up high, cloud watching, the smell in the air after it rains.

DISLIKES :

People telling her what to do, being restricted or restrained, water, snow, small spaces, not being able to see the sky.

APPEARANCE .

FEATURES :

Round cheeks, a small, upturned nose and lips that are often chapped. Bordering on unhealthily pale, skin almost appearing translucent under direct sunlight. Cheekbones and nose covered with pronounced freckles. Heavy shadows exist under her eyes, no matter how much sleep is had.

EYES :

Vibrant green in colour, often bright and sparkling with mischief.

HAIR :  

Pale, cotton candy pink. Waist-length, forming natural loose curls. Always swept up into a high side ponytail, secured in place with a ribbon that has several tiny bells attached. Uneven bangs that frame her face and frequently fall into her eyes. Often unkempt and only brushed when absolutely necessary.

BUILD :

Ectomorph body type. Petite and slender — some would even dare to say ‘delicate’ — courtesy of a poor diet throughout her youth. Extremely flexible. 

STORY .

CHARACTER DETAILS .

Little is known about Nova, the mysterious teenager who randomly appeared within the walls of Mondstadt one sunny afternoon. There are, however, plenty of rumours flying around that might offer a hint or two to those particularly hungry for knowledge, but as time has passed, these rumours have notably grown more and more ridiculous.

Many fail to realise that Nova herself is often the one who spreads such tall tales to any who are gullible enough to believe them.

Needless to say, Nova’s sudden appearance caught the attention of the Knights of Favonius, ever attentive to anything or anyone that might threaten the freedom and safety of their beloved city. Time and time again, they’ve attempted to wheedle information out of the mischievous teenager who prances throughout the streets day and night, only to receive the same answer.

“I’m just looking to have a little fun, that’s all.~”

And so, the reasoning behind their arrival in Mondstadt remains a mystery. Only Nova herself knows, and she’s not too keen on telling...

STORY ONE .

In the short sixteen years they’ve been alive, Nova has only ever wanted one thing: freedom.

It’s an ideal she’s chased for as long as she can remember, one she now strives to live by. And what better place to do that, than in the City of Freedom itself? 

To that end, it’s no coincidence that Nova eventually found herself within Mondstadt’s walls, beckoned by the alluring tales of its conception and the promise of acceptance for all who cross its borders.

In Nova’s eyes, Mondstadt was the only place in all of Teyvat that could grant her the true freedom she desires. 

Free from the oppressive nature of the Fatui. Free from the iron grip of the Tsaritsa and her warmongering ways. Free from the bone-deep cold that plagues Snezhnaya all year round. Free from that awful place that she could never call home.

But most importantly... They’re free from their old, pathetic, weak self whose name she no longer speaks of.

TW: mentions of neglect, physical & mental abuse, starvation.

STORY TWO .

Danica — as was once her name — has never known Snezhnaya and its inhabitants to be anything but cruel.

The matron in charge of the orphanage in which they were raised claimed to have found her abandoned upon its front steps, a nameless newborn wailing in the middle of a snowstorm, wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket.

The matron took great pleasure in telling her, time and time again throughout her childhood, that she was unwanted. Unloved. That she never should have been born.

“I should have left you to die out in the cold. You useless, pathetic child.”

From there, as the years went by, the mistreatment they suffered only escalated.

They were beaten. Abused. Yelled at for stepping a single toe out of line. Denied a proper meal to sate her hungry belly. Tossed into the dark, damp cellar for daring to stand up for herself...

No amount of crying or begging was enough to dissuade their so-called “punishment”, and Danica soon learned to never expect kindness from anyone, for kindness always came at a price from those in power.

And so, Danica swore never to cry or beg again.

STORY THREE .

Regardless of status, one thing is for certain amongst the citizens of Snezhnaya: it’s survival of the fittest.

Faced with no other options, Danica began stealing in order to eat at the tender age of six. Cooked meats from the butcher, loaves of still-warm bread from the bakery, an assortment of wild berries, herbs and freshly caught game from the back of carts belonging to hunters visiting a nearby inn... 

The greater the risk, the greater the reward. And Nova was becoming addicted to the danger.

At first, however, their petty thievery went unnoticed. 

Loaves of bread turned into pouches of Mora pilfered from drunken tavern-goers stumbling through the snow under the guise of helping them back to the warmth of their homes. Cooked meats became clothes draped over a windowsill to dry. Berries and herbs were exchanged for small trinkets foolishly left on display. And, perhaps their most prized stolen possession: an ivory pocket knife taken from an unsuspecting hunter who had previously offered her a drink from his waterskin.

Needless to say, It wasn’t long before her luck ran out.

Not long after Danica reached the age of fourteen, a group of strangely dressed people passed through town.

They belonged to the Fatui, a formidable faction that makes up Snezhnaya’s main military force, a group that not even the citizens of the nation they supposedly served would dare cross.

But Danica, unaware of the danger, saw only an opportunity.

The pretty jewels they all carried upon their person were sure to fetch an even prettier price, after all.

STORY FOUR .

They were called Delusions.

In a small town where everyone who lived in it were considered nothing more than scraps at the bottom of a barrel, talk of Visions and the Archons who gift them weren’t exactly commonplace. And who were they to be granted with the esteemed knowledge of the Fatui’s triumph in creating Visions of their own?

Danica knew not what she had stolen, but the retribution for her thievery was swift.

In the dead of night, they were dragged kicking and screaming from the orphanage and out into the snow by the very Fatui Agents she had stolen from. The townsfolk shut their doors and turned a blind eye to her plight, leaving her to be whisked away to the very heart of Snezhnaya itself: Zapolyarny Palace.

There, in order to repent for the crimes she committed against the Fatui and, by extension, the Tsaritsa herself, Danica was forced to kneel before the very ruler of the snowswept nation, who merely regarded her with an icy gaze.

In her eyes, Danica saw only contempt.

But where her hope might have dwindled and fear taken hold, a simple question set her heart alight.

“You would risk the freedom I have granted to all those within this great nation...to steal from me?”

...

What freedom was there to be had where only the rich and powerful could succeed? Where only those with enough Mora to line their pockets could remain fed and sheltered? Where the very things necessary for survival could be ripped from a person at a moments notice, for no reason other than they were disliked?

Freedom was an illusion. It was something only befitting of those with the opportunity to seize it. Freedom could be stolen. Taken away. Falsely bestowed.

It was the one thing she craved, but could never have.

“Freedom?” Danica could only repeat in utter disbelief, the word spat at the Archon’s feet. “What freedom have you ever given to me— to any of us?!”

In the wake of their rage, a sudden gale ripped through the giant hall, knocking several of the Fatui Agents off their feet. 

In the midst of the howling winds, Danica stood completely untouched. Something bright and shining appeared before her very eyes, lowering gently into her upturned palms.

She stared down at the newly gifted Vision nestled in her hands, slowly realising what it was supposed to represent: a promise that the freedom she craved could finally be hers, should she only choose to take it.

The Tsaritsa leaned forward, a hiss upon her lips. “Meddlesome bard.”

Danica glared up at the ruler of Snezhnaya one last time... And with their newfound power, they fled.

STORY FIVE .

Danica was no more.

That name was abandoned along with her life in Snezhnaya, the moniker ‘Nova’ adopted in order to hide her true origins.

Their journey in search of a place where they could be free led them across the expanse of Teyvat to the far northeast, following whispers of a city named after freedom itself. 

Like a pied piper pulling on the strings of her heart, Nova chased after the stories of Mondstadt and its absentee Archon, the very God who saw fit to bless her with a Vision in his name.

If such a wondrous sounding city truly existed, it had to be the place she could finally belong...

When their destination finally lay before them, a beautiful city standing proudly in the middle of a lake, Nova fell to her knees and shed tears for the first time in years.

I’m home, her heart whispered.

Welcome home, the wind teasingly responded.

BELLS .

By now, almost every citizen in Mondstadt ( particularly those with connections to a certain foreign delegation of diplomats ) knows to be wary of their belongings when they hear the sound of tiny bells, for the person attached to them is rather fond of pilfering whatever goods they can get their hands on.

“Won’t you do something about this?!” Luke once cried, after being robbed penniless while standing guard outside the Goth Grand Hotel.

The Knights of Favonius had promised to look into it, but how can one catch a thief supposedly as swift as the wind itself?

Who’s to say, after all, that the Fatui are being so egregiously targeted as they so claim?

As for the echo of laughter dancing on the wind after their pockets have been emptied, the only possible answer is that it’s simply all in their head.

VISION .

Even to this day, Nova fails to comprehend the reasoning behind Barbatos’ decision to gift her with a Vision.

What worth was there to be found in an orphaned thief such as herself? It’s a question they have asked themself time and time again, with little success. To understand the whims of a God was all but futile, after all.

Still, she was thankful. For all that she distrusted the Archons and their supposed might, without Barbatos’s blessing, her life would have surely come to an end that dreadful night, all dreams of freedom snatched from her feeble grasp.

It’s fitting, in a way, that the Archon of freedom himself saw fit to grant her the one thing she could never steal for herself. 

While she possesses no fantastical aspirations that might paint her worthy of his blessing, Nova has whispered a promise to the wind that she’ll live true to her humble dreams of freedom with his Vision in her hand, true to his legacy and the city he cultivated for all who wish for the same.

TALENTS .

MAIN WEAPON :  Bow ROLE :  Support  ( Movement Speed / Attack Speed / Stamina Recharge ) COMBAT STYLE :  Relies on speed over precision in order to overwhelm their opponents, utilising elemental damage where possible to disorient and gain the upper hand. Partnered with her impressive footwork and ability to dodge hits at the last second, Nova is a particularly tricky opponent, despite their limitations as a bow user.

NORMAL ATTACK :  Wind Volley

Normal Attack :  Nova performs up to six consecutive shots with a bow, each shot faster than the last, building up a small amount of Anemo energy around her. Upon the sixth shot, the Anemo energy she has accumulated will be released, lifting them ( and any enemies within range ) into the air.

Charged Attack :  Nova performs a more precise aimed shot which deals increased damage. While aiming, a strong gust of wind will swell around the arrowhead. A fully charged arrow will release this gust of wind, dealing Anemo damage.

Plunging Attack :  Nova fires off a shower of arrows while mid-air before wrapping herself in Anemo energy and falling, striking the ground, dealing AoE and Anemo damage upon impact.

ELEMENTAL SKILL :  Relentless Gale

On Press :  Nova fires an arrow made of pure Anemo energy that sends her opponents flying back in the direction she aims at, dealing massive Anemo damage.

If an enemy hit by Relentless Gale collide with another enemy or object, they will suffer an additional 15~50% damage, dependent on the Skill’s level.

Elemental Absorption: if the Anemo arrow comes into contact with Hydro / Pyro / Cryo / Electro elements, it will deal with additional elemental damage of that type. Only one element can be absorbed at one time.

On Hold / Charge :  Summons an even larger Anemo arrow that creates a small whirlwind at its tip, dragging in surrounding enemies and sending them flying upon release. The direction of this skill can be adjusted, however Nova is rendered immobile until the arrow is released.

Elemental Absorption: if the whirlwind comes into contact with Hydro / Pyro / Cryo / Electro elements, it will deal with additional elemental damage of that type. Only one element can be absorbed at one time.

Cooldown :  5 seconds. Reduced to 4 seconds upon unlocking Nova’s Passive Talent ‘Unleash the Storm’ at Ascension Lv. 4.

ELEMENTAL BURST :  Eye of the Storm

Nova fires a shower of arrows made of pure Anemo energy that land all around the area aimed at and form a swirling wind barrier which causes continuous Anemo damage to any enemies caught within it upon contact. It can also be utilised as a shield for allies, at the risk of being dealt damage upon contact. 

Elemental Absorption: if the swirling barrier comes into contact with Hydro / Pyro / Cryo / Electro elements, it will deal with additional elemental damage of that type. Only one element can be absorbed at one time.

PASSIVE TALENT 1 :  A Refreshing Breeze  (  Ascension Lv. 1  )

While Nova is in the party, any hits by Normal Attacks have a 60% chance to restore stamina equal to 15% of Nova’s base HP for all party members.

PASSIVE TALENT 2 :  Unleash the Storm  (  Ascension Lv. 4  )

Upgrades Eye of the Storm - Nova’s Elemental Burst now deals 150% more damage.

Using Eye of the Storm will regenerate 20% of its Energy. 

Eye of the Storm’s cooldown is reduced by 1s.

PASSIVE TALENT 3 :  Swift as the Wind  (  unlocked automatically  )

When Nova is in the party, all party members gain an increased movement and attack speed of 10%.

MATERIALS .

ASCENSION MATERIALS :

Vayuda Turquoise Sliver / Fragment / Chunk / Gemstone

Hurricane Seed

Cecilia

Damaged Mask / Stained Mask / Ominous Mask

TALENT MATERIALS :

Teachings of Freedom / Guide to Freedom / Philosophies of Freedom

Damaged Mask / Stained Mask / Ominous Mask

Dvalin’s Plume

[aion-rsa]

How The Walking Dead: World Beyond Expands the Zombie Universe with Its Unique Teen Characters

https://ift.tt/3kB7pU3

After its premiere was delayed by several months due to COVID-19, the two-season The Walking Dead spinoff series The Walking Dead: World Beyond finally makes its debut this week. The story expands the TWD universe in a unique way, taking place 10 years after the zombie outbreak and focusing on a predominantly teenage cast of characters. Unlike the battered groups of survivors from The Walking Dead and Fear the Walking Dead, these teens have been sheltered from walkers (or “empties,” as they’re called on this show) within the walls of a university in Omaha, Nebraska, a thriving colony that has afforded them a relatively normal, safe life post-outbreak.

But, as fans will learn from the very first episode, the Campus Colony (as it’s referred to) does have a seemingly precarious arrangement with the Civic Republic Military (CRM), whose ominous helicopters act as a narrative thread that ties the three shows together. It’s safe to say you’ll learn way more about this mysterious faction in World Beyond than ever before.

The show primarily centers on sisters Iris (Aliyah Royale) and Hope (Alexa Mansour), who leave the safety of the University in search of their father, brilliant scientist Dr. Leo Bennett (Joe Holt), who they’ve learned is somewhere in New York. Joining them on their mission are fellow student Elton (Nicolas Cantu), a resourceful scientist and historian (who also happens to know karate), and school janitor Silas (Hal Cumpston), a soft-spoken social outcast whose murky past has earned him a questionable reputation on campus. The teens are tailed by battle-tested adult guardians Felix (Nico Tortorella) and Huck (Annet Mahendru).

Last fall, I visited the show’s set in Richmond, Virginia, where filming was underway for episode 7 of the show (alas, there were no CRM helicopters in sight). The location was an old waterpark called Hadad’s Lake, which was appropriately creepy-looking. The abandoned facilities looked dreary and greyed-out under the looming rainclouds — the juxtaposition of a children’s park rotting in a post-apocalypse seemed to fit the show thematically as well.

Huddled around a table with other members of the press under a tent that sheltered our equipment from the occasional drizzle, we were joined by the cast members one by one to talk about their respective characters and what fans can expect from the show. Here’s what we learned:

Iris

“Iris is smart and caring and loving and doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body,” Royale says of her character. “She really wants to make sure that every single person that she encounters is taken care of and has what they need. At some point she realizes maybe it’s time to start doing things for herself and when she makes that switch, it is a roller coaster of events.”

Serving as the beating heart of the show, Iris is an overachiever on campus and a compassionate leader amongst her peers. She’s got a tight bond with Hope, and while Iris is generally viewed as the more straight-laced, level-headed of the two, the absence of her father compels her to make the drastic decision to venture out beyond the University walls for the first time.

“The mission for Iris is: where’s my dad at?” Royale explains. “I want my dad back. The other side of that is, Iris is following in his footsteps. She’s super involved in science, biomedical engineering, all of those things that her father’s brain is being used for…that’s exactly the path that she’s going towards. Saving the world.”

At the University, though the majority of students haven’t encountered empties, they’re trained by instructors like Felix to defend themselves against the dead, including with a weapon called an S-pole, a staff with a retractable blade at one end. Iris is a fast learner, although she quickly discovers that no amount of training can actually prepare her for the horrors that await in the real world.

“She’s got a lot of information stored up here,” Royale says as she points at her head. “But the minute that she encounters the first walker, it’s this just absolute fear. As much as you learn, as many books as you read, you could never feel [that fear] until you’re in that moment. You’ve got your four best friends next to you, and it’s you or the empty.”

Hope

“She doesn’t give a shit about anything,” Mansour says of the rebellious Hope. “She lives for today and I mean, realistically, she doesn’t think she’s going to live tomorrow. She’s pretty sure she could die at any moment and I don’t think she really cares. So she gets herself in trouble, doesn’t care what people say, and is always doing the opposite of what Felix tells her to do. It’s kind of ironic that her name is Hope because she really doesn’t have any of it.”

Hope and Iris have a tight bond despite their polar opposite temperaments and outlooks on life. “They’re complete opposites,” says Mansour. “Iris is the one that will be off studying until four in the morning while Hope would probably be partying until four in the morning. But they love each other. I think they really do balance each other out. Iris will bail Hope out whenever she is sneaking out and doing stuff that she should not be doing, and Hope would take a bullet for her sister.”

As for Hope’s lack of, well, hope, in human beings and their future prospects on the planet, Mansour made it clear that this speaks to a pressing real-world issue of mental health that affects teens everywhere. As someone who was bullied for her ethnicity (she’s half Hispanic, half Egyptian), she feels World Beyond and the platform it’s given her will allow her to help teenagers who are struggling like she has.

“I really hope they realize that they’re not alone,” Mansour says. “I think it’s important for kids who are watching this to take away that it’s okay to be open about what you’re feeling and it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling and it’s not the end of the world, it is going to get better.”

Felix

“Felix is the head of security detail at the university,” says Tortorella, who also reveals that his character identifies as queer. “He is kind of an adopted son to the girls’ dad. He had a troubled childhood dealing with his family coming to terms or not coming to terms with him being gay. He’s very much a hero. He protects the people around him in a way that’s contradictory to the stereotype of like what a gay character usually is on television. And that’s why I was really excited to play this role.”

Tortorella, who identifies as genderfluid, felt drawn to the show and the The Walking Dead franchise for its strong representation of marginalized communities. “The diversity was a huge thing coming into it, you know? We have people from all walks of life on this show. Genders, sexualities, race, religions. It was a no brainer for me.”

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Hope and Iris’s father took Felix in as family after the outbreak, and Felix’s made a promise to take care of the girls at all costs. Unlike the sisters, he and his partner Huck have seen action outside the Campus’ walls, which makes him a formidable fighter. When Iris and Hope escape the walls of the colony, Felix and Huck quickly give chase.

“Yeah, he’s in full dad mode all the time with these kids,” Tortorella explains. “I think that like after the first episode, the stakes are at maximum levels in terms of our safety and our fight for survival. And Felix is the one that has the most training in terms of any sort of military background that we know of.”

Huck

Huck is Felix’s right hand, dear friend, and confidant. She sports a sizable scar across her cheek, which all but confirms she’s been through some tough shit.

“Huck comes from a Marines background,” Mahendru says. “When you first meet Huck, you just know the scar. There’s a story [behind it]. She is an independent thinker. She’s really tough, but she’s really hopeful and really positive and warm and is adamant about bringing the world back to what it was. She wants as many people to live as possible.”

As for Huck’s relationship to the sisters, Mahendru says that she has a deep connection with Hope, who she sees herself in. “She was a bit of a rebel when she was young, [too]. They have a big/little sister relationship, and I train her how to fight. I want her to survive out there. I mean I’m going to send her out there and so I’m responsible for her. I really believe in her potential and I feel her pain. I’ve gone through the same similar things.”

Elton

“Elton is a very intellectually curious child,” Cantu says. “He has been sheltered from the world outside with a bunch of horrible, horrible things happening out there. So he’s kind of trying to understand the world for what it is and how nature is changing along with most of humanity. He’s on a journey to analyze and document and just see what this new world is about.”

A classmate of Iris and Hope’s who offers to join them on their quest to find their father, Elton admits that the outside world isn’t exactly foreign to him.

“Elton has been outside of the walls before because he does a lot of experiments outside,” Cantu explains as he motions to the mustard-colored, corduroy suit he’s wearing. “It’s bite proof, which Elton learned through controlled experiments. So he kind of has a little bit of a glimpse as to what the outside world is. But once he steps out there, it’s intense.”

Cantu says he sees a lot of himself in Elton. “I really do relate to Elton. I mean, he’s kind of got this view of the world where he’s very blunt with it. He knows a bunch of the threats out there. He realizes stepping outside of those walls is going to be a life changing thing. The world is brutal and he has just come to accept that. So if it’s coming down to survival, he’s ready, he’s prepared, he’s got everything on lock. And I feel like if I was in an apocalypse, I would prepare similarly to Elton.”

Silas

“He’s been shunned by the particular community they’re in. People refer to him as a monster or just completely shun him. It’s like a Boo Radley type of character,” Cumpston reveals about the quiet Silas. “No one knows his exact story, you know what I mean? When kids hear something then they exaggerate and that type of thing.”

Cumpston, a young Australian actor and filmmaker also feels he relates to Silas. “Yeah, everyone’s felt like an outcast. There’s definitely been situations where I’ve felt like an outcast. I’d be a funny kid at school. I joined a soccer team and there’s already these different funny personalities [on the team] and I’m just sort of like the quiet kid who’s also not good [at soccer]. I’m like, ‘Oh, fuck. I need to make up for it by being funny but there are no opportunities.’” 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Unlike his three teenage counterparts, Silas isn’t a student at the school, and he’s got little excuse not to join the others on their quest, seeing as he hasn’t got much going for him at the Campus.

“He’s just a janitor who no one speaks to and everyone refers to as a monster,” Cumpston says. “When he walks past people on campus, you can hear that people don’t have very nice things to say about him. He catches wind that there’s an [opportunity] to prove to himself and these other people that he’s not a monster.”

The Walking Dead: World Beyond premieres on Oct. 4 at 10 pm ET on AMC.

The post How The Walking Dead: World Beyond Expands the Zombie Universe with Its Unique Teen Characters appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[nachtgraves]

kuzuhina with 11 or 50?

ty for the prompt(s)! I kind combined ‘em :D

Title: Hinata-Sensei’s Got a Secret // AO3Word Count: 2,125Warnings/Tags: G. Alternate universe, established relationship, kindergarten teacher hajime, unspecified businessman fuyuhiko, surprise your boyfriend at work dayPrompts: kiss out of love/happiness

It’s not often that Fuyuhiko visits Hinata at work. Mostly it’s because he’s been mistaken as a student far too many times and he’s not exactly the biggest fan of children. If he does show his face, it’s at the end of the day to pick Hajime up. But sometimes Hajime forgets things at home, like his bento or his rarely used reading glasses, even his lesson plans on the rare occasion. And sometimes Fuyuhiko’s been away for business and he’s going through boyfriend withdrawals.

So he’s not there often, but he’s been around enough that Hajime’s coworkers know him by name. As do his students.

“Hinata-sensei! Hinata-sensei! Ryu-san is here!”

The five-year-olds who only care about the second half of his family name notice him before their teacher does. But Fuyuhiko gives his boyfriend a pass since he’s busy sorting out some sort of situation between two boys who haven’t learned how to share yet. He’s bent over, hands on his knees and back to the door, and Fuyuhiko can’t help but run his gaze under the tie of Hajime’s apron. He’s missed his boyfriend, sue him.

The other children bombard the door and Fuyuhiko steps inside before they can break it down and escape. He’s interrupted arts and crafts time judging by the desks covered in glue and colored paper and glitter. A million questions are thrown at him ranging from what he’s doing here to how his trip was, what’s in the bag, and did he ‘take care’ of anyone.

“Hinata-sensei told you I was out of town, huh?” Fuyuhiko says before answering the questions he catch down the line: visiting Hinata-sensei, good, lunch, and no I’m a business man where did you learn things like that?

With his short, uninteresting answers, most of the kids leave him for their craft projects. By then Hajime’s settled the feuding boys and comes to the door, brushing his hands against his light green apron decorated with white bunnies and warm yellow suns. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until Saturday.”

“Finished up earlier than planned and I took the next train in.” He was supposed to be gone for two and a half weeks. Hajime doesn’t need to know that he rushed through everything and didn’t sleep for two days to complete almost four days’ worth of work. He slept during the train ride.

“Did you come straight here from the station?” Hajime worries. It’s a bit more concern than Fuyuhiko thinks is really needed but maybe the train nap wasn’t enough. His suit is a bit rumpled.

“Had someone take my travel bag to the office and went to a konbini first, I haven’t eaten lunch. Thought we could go home together when you’re done?”

Hajime looks down at the plastic bag in Fuyuhiko’s hands and his shoulders relax in relief. Odd. “Yeah, if you don’t mind waiting.”

Before Fuyuhiko can question Hajime’s strange reactions, they’re interrupted by one of the kids, a nosy little girl with pigtails that crack like a whip from her energetic and exaggerated movements. She pokes around and tries to look into Fuyuhiko’s shopping bag. “What did you bring?”

“Secret,” Fuyuhiko says, quickly lifting the bag away. He doesn’t want to get Hajime in trouble by explaining condoms to his kids. There’s no way Hajime would let him use them when they got home.

The kid pouts but brightens up and smugly raises her chin, running behind Hajime’s legs. “Well, I have a secret, too! Hinata-sensei told it to us and you’re not allowed to know.”

“Oh really? And what am I not allowed to know?” Fuyuhiko teases, looking up at Hajime. He doesn’t think it’s anything big, but Hajime looks panicked, eye wide and smile strained enough it’s a flat-lined grimace more than anything else. It only grows more trained whe, at the loud talk of juicy secrets, the other kids gather around like ants.

“Hinata-sensei’s secret is a big one!” one of them gloats.

“Yup, we’re not supposed to say anything to Ryu-san,” says another.

Hajime claps his hands together, cutting anyone else off. “Okay, everyone. We’ve still got some time before the end of the day. And we still have to clean up so if you want to finish you better get a move on.”

There’s a loud groan but the kids totter back to their tables of glue sticks and glitter and googly eyes. It’s going to be a nightmare to clean up. Hajime turns to Fuyuhiko, seems to hesitate, but steps close and lightly grabs Fuyuhiko’s wrist. His thumb rubs against the soft, sensitive underside, as close to PDA as he’ll allow himself at work. It’s an innocent gesture but Fuyuhiko’s heart ticks, heat pooling low in his stomach and coloring his cheeks. Hajime tends to tease him there with soft kisses and gentle nibbles and maybe he should have just waited for Hajime at home.

“I…give me a minute?” Hajime asks, voice quiet and soft.

Fuyuhiko wants to lean up and close to the distance to get the kiss he’s been missing but settles for twisting his wrist in Hajime’s loosely linking their fingers. “I’m going to sit at your desk and eat my lunch. You handle the brats. Pretend I’m not even here.”

When he moves to do as he said, he faintly hears Hajime mutter, “That’s impossible.” He doesn’t turn around to check, but he’s sure Hajime’s smiling like a sap.

Fuyuhiko settles himself at Hajime’s desk and gets busy with his food. He’d bought a small karage bento, a bag of karinto, and a bottle of sweet tea. He sets to work on the bento first, all but shoveling rice and fried chicken into his mouth.

Fuyuhiko enjoys watching Hajime work. It’s a different side to him but it’s not surprising. He’s got a calming temperament and he likes kids, and as far as Fuyuhiko’s seen, kids and small animals tend to like Hajime too.

The tables are arranged so Hajime can stand in the center and supervise all the children, easily seeing if anyone is struggling or calling for help. He helps one kid cut hearts, praises another for their arrangement of stickers, and writes the characters for words they don’t know to copy with crayon and markers. One kid’s making a birthday card for their older sibling. She wants to put actual candles on the card, light them up, but Hajime convinces her to just draw them instead.

So Fuyuhiko just observes and before he knows it, the bento’s cleaned out and he moves onto the karinto. He eats those just as quickly, regretting buying the smaller bag but knowing it’s for the best. But now his hands are a bit sticky and he doesn’t have any napkins. Luckily, his boyfriend is a kindergarten teacher, the stickiest class to teach, and Fuyuhiko knows Hajime always has a packet of tissues somewhere.

He’d ask Hajime, but his boyfriend is busy listening to a kid explain the story of his project, so Fuyuhiko goes through Hajime’s desk drawers. The first one he opens is full of stickers ranging from the thick foam ones to the usual flat and sparkly, rolls of washi-tape, sticky note pads, and colorful pens and markers. The second one he opens is all paperwork and forms and Hajime’s glasses case. Hoping third time’s the charm, Fuyuhiko pulls open the next drawer and finds Hajime’s personal office supplies and, finally, his collection of pocket tissues, a whole six pack with a cute farm animal print. He goes to rip the packaging and steal one of the packets to use, but as he moves the pack, Fuyuhiko spies a flash of black tucked towards the back. Curious and feeling snoopy, Fuyuhiko digs out the item, his fingers wrap around a palm-sized box made with a sturdy velvet casing. When he pulls it out, his heart pounds against his chest and his breath gets stuck in this throat.

He’s caught between wanting to open it and stuffing it back in the drawer, pretend he didn’t see it because now was not the time. But he’s frozen in place, holding the ring box. He only moves when a child yells, “Hinata-sensei’s secret!”

“Miyo-chan, what are you…”

Fuyuhiko looks up as Hajime’s voice trails off. His face is pale and he’s staring at the box in Fuyuhiko’s hand.

“I was looking for tissues,” Fuyuhiko says in a daze, automatically. He’s not defensive, he found the box by accident and if it’s what he thinks it is, he might faint right then and there. But he’s not the fainting type so he’s just frozen, stuck in the calm before a reaction he’s still trying to figure out.

Hajime’s flustered. His skin is pale and his eyes wide. Fuyuhiko still hasn’t figured out what reaction he’s falling into but the need to know is overwhelming and he opens the box. Inside is a ring, a silver piece, two threads of metal woven together, one engraved with a reptile-like scale pattern and tiny gold gems spaced out along the waves.

“Fuyuhiko,” Hajime stutters. “I, uh, I can explain.”

But Fuyuhiko doesn’t want an explanation. He’s moving before he can think things through, striding the short distance from Hajime’s desk to Hajime himself. Everything around Fuyuhiko fades into nothingness, there is nothing except the ring box in his hand and Hajime frozen like a deer in the headlights.

And it’s quite convenient because Fuyuhiko can throw his arms around Hajime’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss because that’s all that’s on his mind. He’s smiling, beaming ridiculously he can’t even properly kiss his boyfriend, his soon-to-be fiancé. Questios run through his mind in the background, how long has Hajime had the ring, when was he going to ask, is it the kind of ring Fuyuhiko thinks it is, and more, but he’s too busy being happy.

Hajime kisses him back once he shakes himself of his shock and his arms go around Fuyuhiko’s waist, squeezing him into a hug, lifting Fuyuhiko to his toes and almost off the ground.

“So you’re not mad?” Hajime breathes when the kiss ends.

Fuyuhiko tugs at Hajime’s hair sharply. “Stupid question.” He pulls away, letting Hajime straighten his back. Hajime keeps his hands at Fuyuhiko’s waist. Fuyuhiko holds the ring box between them.

“There are worse hiding places,” Fuyuhiko comments with a laugh.

Hajime huffs. “I was paranoid about losing it, or you finding it somewhere at home.”

“So you stuffed it with pens and pocket tissues.”

“Shut up. I didn’t think you’d be digging through my drawers at work. I was planning this whole thing for when you got back this weekend. And now you’ve got karinto crumbs and syrup all over the box.” Hajime’s smiling, if a touch ruefully.

“I’ll get karinto crumbs and syrup all over the ring when it’s on my finger,” Fuyuhiko retorts. He’s not really thinking and his words register only after they’re out of his mouth.

Hajime’s looking down at him like he’s something amazing, lips parted and curved in a soft smile. He removes one hand from Fuyuhiko’s waist and lays it over Fuyuhiko’s hands, encasing the ring box. “So, can I take that as your answer?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of it. Ask me properly, dumbass.”

For a second Fuyuhiko thinks Hajime is going to do just that, get on his knee and propose right then and there. Or he’s going to kiss Fuyuhiko and Fuyuhiko is fine with either scenario.

But reality makes its appearance in the accusing cry of a five year old. “Ryu-san said a bad word!”

Around them, Fuyuhiko observes all the children just watching the two of them. They quickly separate and in their rush drop the ring box. Hajime scrambles to catch it and holds it close. He’s bright red and Fuyuhiko knows he’s of a similar shade himself, probably radiating heat from his embarrassed flush. Hajime clears his throat and Fuyuhiko runs a hand through his hair.

The kids are grinning at them, erupting in chatter about Hajime and Fuyuhiko’s wedding, what the two are going to wear, about Fuyuhiko finding out Hinata-sensei’s big secret, and Fuyuhiko calling their beloved sensei a dumbass.

The day’s almost over and Hajime has a classroom of kindergarteners to get a hold of. He claps his hands in a simple rhythm, and as if entranced the kids echo is back and fall silent, staring up at Hajime and Fuyuhiko with wide, expectant eyes.

“Uh, um,” Hajime stumbles. “It’s almost time to go home so let’s start cleaning up. And, uh, how about we keep this,” he glances to Fuyuhiko, biting his bottom lip as he smiles, “a secret?”

[crownedbyluke]

Long Road Ahead (Chapter Six)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 4,500 (she snapped)

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four} {Chapter Five}

The feeling of my phone buzzing woke me up. The caller ID caused a shiver to run through me. Lance Finley. I quickly got out of bed and ran down the stairs, opening the back door to sit on the porch.

“Hello,” I said cautiously.

“Hello sweet daughter,” he said happily.

“What can I help you with today father?” I asked, his tone alone making me nervous.

It was too happy, almost fake. I felt the slight discomfort and fear bubbling underneath my skin.

“Well, for starters, you can tell me why you’re in South Carolina,” he said, the anger coming through this time.

My pulse quickened, the fear taking over the discomfort in my veins.

“I’m with some friends. They wanted to see some sights,” I explained, purposely keeping the whole truth from him.

“And what sights would that be?” he continued.

“The skywheel, the state parks, the beach. The usual tourist stuff,” I said, again trying to remain vague.

“I presume that you’re all staying at the house I have there?” he asked, the anger rising in his voice.

“No. They found their own house to stay in,” I said, keeping the annoyance out of my voice.

“And how long do you plan on dragging my name around in South Carolina?” he asked, his real point coming out.

“Today’s our last day here,” I said, keeping my tone even.

“Good. Then you’ll be home in Los Angeles?” he persisted.

It felt like I was a teenager on curfew instead of an adult on the other side of the country where he couldn’t parent me.

“Well, we’re going to Cape Cod for a few weeks so, no,” I said, waiting for the yelling that would come.

“Ah, so you’re spending money instead of working? What else would I expect from my reckless daughter? Don’t drag my name down with your pathetic partying,” he said, hanging up before I could respond.

The tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as his words sunk in. I was supposed to be used to this by now. The cycle of being brought up just to be torn down again. It never ceased to break the walls that I had built up. My phone sat next to me, my hands covering my eyes as the tears spilled over. It hurt no matter how hard I fought for it not to, it always seemed to knock the wind out of me.

“Essie?” I heard Ashton from the doorway.

I tried to pull myself together before looking up, but Ashton’s arms were around me before I had to. I cried into his shoulder, finding comfort in the way he held me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, hand rubbing my back gently.

I shook my head into his shoulder, unable to speak just yet. I held onto him tightly, needing me to ground me to the person I’ve become and not the little girl that wanted to be everything her daddy wanted.

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, a few of his fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

It was as if I was falling apart and Ashton was the only thing keeping me together.

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” he reassured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I clutched him, holding on like I would break if he let go. We sat there for at least ten minutes and when the tears stopped finally, I pulled away. Ashton wiped away some of the stray tears, brushing my cheek lightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, taking my hand in his.

“My dad called me this morning. He knows that we’re here, said I was dragging his name around with me. H-h-he said that I was still his reckless daughter and I shouldn’t drag his name around with my pathetic partying,” I said, flicking away a few tears that had fallen during my explanation.

“Did he say how he knew?” he asked, squeezing my hand.

“No. I don’t know how he could have known,” I said, picking up my phone.

I typed in my name, thinking that it was a possibility that someone had seen me. There was a picture of me on some gossip website. It was from the trip to the mall. I was walking with Ashton, a giant carefree smile on my face.

“And the headline reads, Lance Finley’s daughter caught on vacation with mystery man,” I read, showing Ashton the article.

He laughed and gestured for me to continue.

“Estelle Finley was seen yesterday with an unknown man out in South Carolina. Lance Finley’s daughter carried multiple luxury shopping bags and flaunted her happiness with this man. Is love in the air for this brand new couple?” I read, rolling my eyes.

“Estelle, how do these people know your name?’ Ashton asked, adjusting how he was sitting so he wasn’t uncomfortable.

“My dad is the CEO of a production company that makes movies and TV shows. Once my parents had me and the press got wind of my education that was beginning, paparazzi started keeping tabs. Once I was of age, they started taking pictures and publishing articles. All eyes on what the great Lance Finley’s daughter would do. How would she act in the world her father so kindly gave her?” I explained, unable to hide my frustration.

“And?” he asked, head tilted to the side.

“And I went to Berkeley for teaching, partied the smallest bit with people I thought I could trust. Some people took pictures, sold them to the press. Once word got to them, it got to my dad. I was told that if I didn’t focus on my studies, he’d pull me from school and send me off somewhere that I wouldn’t cause trouble. I kept my head down, never went out, got my degree and then my master’s. I thought now that I had my own career and hadn’t been seen in a while, they’d leave me alone. I was apparently wrong,” I said, my eyes remaining focused on the water as I spoke.

I felt ashton squeeze my hand, making me look over at him,

“You aren’t just your name. Estelle, you are more than your father’s expectations and the gossip people have said about you. You’re whoever you want to be and I love the person you are. I know how much it hurts to see lies written about you and I know that you have to be stronger than what they say. You’re my best friend and there is nothing that you can do to change that. Screw what your dad says. He doesn’t matter. We all love you okay? Those people don’t know you, we do. Their thoughts and opinions about who you are and what you do don’t matter. Don’t let them bring you down when the person you are is absolutely spectacular,” he said with that thousand watt smile.

I returned it, feeling a bit of relief from his words. I needed to hear his words and as they sunk in, I knew he was right.

“Thank you Ash,” I said quietly, going back to look at the ocean.

“So, when we met and you wouldn’t go out with us the first year of our friendship?” he started, trailing off.

I attempted to stifle a laugh at the memory.

“I was fresh out of grad school when I met you and Luke. I was out with my best friend from college, Aida. We were celebrating my degree when you came over and offered to buy us drinks. You were hitting on her while Luke was apologizing for your behavior. I thought that we wouldn’t see you two after that night, but Luke asked for my number. Aida was far too hungover to join us for coffee which ended up being a good thing because you didn’t remember her in the morning,” I said, laughing again.

“Luke was dating his last girlfriend and I was just having fun. When we met up for coffee, I could tell that the three of us were going to be best friends. Luke and I walked you to your car and now here we are,” he said, gesturing towards the beach and sunrise.

“Here we are and there’s still so much we don’t know about each other after three years,” I said, tying my hair up.

“With a lifetime ahead of us to figure it out,” he said, stretching his arms out so they were on the back of the swing.

“With a lifetime ahead of us to figure it out,” I repeated with a nod of my head.

                                                       ➢➢➢

“And she returns from her beach stroll,” Calum called, his skin already showing signs of the sun’s effects.

“And he’s still annoying in the mornings!” Luke yelled back, making me laugh.

“My knight in shining armor,” I teased, kissing his cheek as I walked by.

I caught his smile brighten from the small action. I headed up the stairs to change. I pulled on a white tank and shorts.

“So, are you dressing up for someone?” Crystal asked after I pulled on a baby blue cardigan.

“Nope. I was coming to find you though,” I said, bending down to put my sandals on.

“Oh really?” she asked, smiling at me.

“Yeah. Do you still wanna come with me to get that piercing?” I asked, looping a necklace around my neck and grabbing my purse.

“Oh yes I do. Let me grab my purse and put on shoes,” she said, quickly running down the stairs.

I followed after her a moment later, laughing at her rushed nature. It was a new sight to see instead of Crystal’s usual composed temperament.

“Let’s go!” she said happily.

We went down the stairs together, smiling and laughing like we had been friends our whole lives.

“Es and I will be back in an hour! Don’t be stupid while we’re gone!” she called before closing the door behind us.

I caught the keys as she tossed them to me, jingling them in the air.

“Let’s be bad,” I joked, jumping into the driver’s seat.

I drove through the streets, the radio playing whatever hits were currently popular. I parked a bit away from the tattoo and piercing shop.

“You sure you wanna do it?” Crystal asked, taking my hand before we could go in.

“Yes. Absolutely positive,” I confirmed, giving her a smile.

We walked in, seeing a cheery receptionist with very little tattoos and piercings.

“How can I help you?” she asked, a giant smile on her face.

“Is there an opening to get an inner lobe piercing?” I asked, glancing around at the designs on the wall.

“Oh yeah! Let’s see here. E.J. is free until three. She specializes in piercings. Would you like me to bring her up?” she asked.

“I would love that,” I said, twirling the ring around my pointer finger.

“Give me one minute,” she said before walking off.

I waited a few minutes before a woman that looked somewhat my age with tattoos littering her arms walked over to me.

“Hey there. Ready to add some hardware?” she asked, her voice more husky than I imagined.

“Yes. I’m Estelle,” I said while we walked back to her chair.

“E.J. Do you have the earring you’d like to have in?” she asked, pulling out various needles.

“Yeah. Here,” I said, digging the small arrow earring out of my purse.

“It’s very nice. Mean anything to ya?” she asked while prepping everything.

“There’s always something good waiting for you to find,” I said quietly.

She smiled at me before loading the needle and bringing it to my ear. There was a slight pinch and then she was stepping away again.

“Take a look,” she said, holding up a mirror for me.

The gold arrow fit perfectly among the other earrings I had in. It felt almost like adding a piece of armor to my body.

“It looks great. Thank you so much,” I said, shaking her hand.

I paid for it, making sure to leave a nice tip for E.J. before Crystal and I started walking through the streets. We had no plans for the day besides relaxing on the beach so, we were free to wander about.

“Wanna head back?” she asked after a minute.

We were stopped in front of a photo printing shop. There was a golden frame in the window that caught my eye as well as the photobooth advertisement. The frame looked big enough to fit the collage I had been planning for Ashton’s birthday present in it.

“One sec. Can we go in?” I asked, giving her the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to use those on me. Let’s go,” she agreed, gently pushing me towards the door.

“Good mornin’ ladies. How can I help y’all out today?” asked the man at the front desk.

“How much is that frame and what are your printing costs?” I asked, putting on a big smile for him.

“The frame is two hundred and printing cost varies in size. Fifty cents for every four-by-six, seventy-five for every five-by-seven, and they go up from there,” he said, his slight southern accent coming out.

“Do you do mobile print?” I asked, trying to think of the best way to execute my idea the way I had been picturing it in my head.

I had been planning this for months, but hadn’t been able to find a frame that screamed Ashton or a place that would print all the pictures I wanted without costing a fortune.

“No ma’am. We do take flash drives and SD cards though,” he said with a shrug.

I sighed, feeling a little defeated. Ashton’s birthday was in four days and I still hadn’t brought his birthday present to life.

“Thank you,” I said, taking Crystal’s arm and walking out the door.

“What was the master plan there?” she asked while we walked towards the car.

“I was gonna make the collage I’ve been planning for Ash’s birthday, but all of my pictures are on my phone or my computer,” I said, giving her the keys.

“Did you bring that hard drive you had?” she continued, starting up the car.

“No. Although, I should have. I’m filling up my storage with all the pictures I’ve been taking,” I replied, twirling my fingers in my lap.

“Well then, let’s go to the store. You can get a hard drive to free up your storage and I can get some makeup remover since I ran out this morning,” she said, handing me her phone so I could find the closest one.

“Sounds like the best plan,” I said, smiling over at her.

If this worked in my favor, Ashton would be getting the best birthday present ever from me.

                                                      ➢➢➢

Luke wrapped me up in a hug when we got back, claiming to have missed me in my absence.

“You’re a dork. Where’s Ash?” I asked, looking behind him.

I needed to make sure that Ashton didn’t see what I had and also needed the butterflies from Luke to stop distracting me.

“Kitchen. Why?” Luke asked, confused and a little hurt.

“I have something for his birthday and I need to hide it. Keep watch?” I asked, giving him a small smile.

He nodded and lead me to the stairs, watching every so often to make sure Ashton didn’t see me. I ran up the stairs, quickly going into our shared room and tucking away the hard drive. I stood up to see Luke in the doorway.

“You’re that paranoid that he’ll figure out what you’re doing?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yes! You know Ashton and how he hates surprises,” I said, pulling out one of the swimsuits I packed.

I caught Luke’s eyes drift to the item in my hands. We had already seen each other in swimsuits, but it was definitely different this time. After nearly kissing twice and admitting our feelings to each other, I understood how seeing me in a swimsuit would make his eyes widen a little. Hell, I wanted to get a look at him in a swimsuit too.

“Yeah he really does love figuring out surprises,” he said, trailing off.

His mind was elsewhere while his eyes scanned over my body, a slight gleam in them as he did.

“I’m gonna change. Are you gonna come down to the beach with me?” I asked, feeling somewhat nervous as he looked at me.

“Yeah sure,” he said quietly.

I watched him close the door and felt the butterflies take over my stomach. The effect he had on me was insane. I changed into my swimsuit, pulling on my cardigan over top. I came down, grabbing my sunglasses before heading out the back door. The boys were playing a round of beach volleyball together when I saw them. Luke’s laugh rang in my ears as I walked down the porch steps. The sand between my toes was warm and the breeze that made my hair fly behind me eased the heat, a perfect balance happening between the two. I put my cardigan down by Ashton’s stuff, knowing he’d be okay with it.

“Incoming!” Michael yelled.

I turned around, seeing their volleyball flying at my face. I barely had enough time to get my hands up so it wouldn’t break my nose.

“Essie! Throw it back!” Ashton called, the ball now at my feet.

I rolled my eyes, not surprised that they didn’t notice how they almost hit me in the face before tossing them the ball. The sound of someone whistling at me caused me to turn around.

“Excuse me?” I asked, hands falling to my hips.

“How’d it feel to fall from heaven?” the guy asked, winking at me.

“Perfectly fine,” I deadpanned, not wanting to deal with him or his objectification.

“You’re a real hottie you know,” he continued, making me roll my eyes.

“Thank you, but I’m on vacation and I’m not interested,” I said, starting to turn around to head over to the boys.

The guy grabbed my wrist, the grip too tight.

“I’m not done talking here hottie,” he growled, pulling on me to make sure I didn’t go anywhere.

“And I’m not interested so let go!” I said, purposely raising my voice so one of the boys would hear me.

“Excuse me, she said to let go,” Ashton’s voice came over me.

I felt the immediate ease run through my body with his presence next to me. The guy was still holding onto my wrist and I was starting to worry that he was going to leave a mark.

“Hey man, you can wait your turn,” the douchebag said.

“If you don’t get your hands off my best friend, I’ll call the cops,” Ashton threatened, broadening his shoulders and standing up perfectly straight.

The guy let go immediately, practically running away from us. My heartbeat slowed a bit, feeling like I was dizzy for a moment after he left.

“Thank you Ash,” I said quietly, still a tad bit afraid that he would come back.

“No problem. Are you okay?” he asked, putting a protective arm around me.

“Yeah. I’m just gonna go back to the house,” I said, pulling my cardigan over my shoulders.

“Estelle, you can’t let that ass ruin your day,” he said, concern evident in his eyes.

“I’m not. I just don’t feel comfortable right now,” I explained, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, reaching out to rub my arm.

“No, stay and have fun. I’ll be fine,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

I went back to the house, pulling on my clothes from earlier. The bay window felt comfortable, safe as I picked up my ratty copy of The Great Gatsby. I knew it was stupid to feel ashamed of my body, but no matter how much I tried to think about that encounter in a different way, I couldn’t. If I hadn’t been so stupid, it wouldn’t have happened.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head. What’s going on up there little dove?” Luke asked, bringing me out of my head.

“Nothing. Why aren’t you on the beach?” I asked, noticing the zip up hoodie he pulled on.

“Because you’re not on the beach with me. Why are you in here?” he asked, sitting next to me and pulling my legs into his lap.

I smiled, remembering how we had sat like this last night.

“Just didn’t feel like it anymore,” I lied, not wanting to talk about the guy on the beach.

“You know that your eyes veer left when you lie?” he asked, a lightness to his tone that I hadn’t expected.

“Fine. That guy on the beach just made me feel uneasy and I just didn’t want him staring at me anymore,” I admitted, clutching my book a little tighter.

“That guy comes anywhere near you and I’ll punch him in the face myself,” he said, genuine anger in his eyes.

“Lu, it’s fine. I can just hang in here,” I argued, reaching out and taking his hand in mine.

The touch was electric and sent shivers through my body.

“No. You’re on vacation. You have a right to enjoy it in the sun and on the beach,” he defended, squeezing my hand.

“Lu-”

“Please come back out with me,” he said, biting his lip.

I stared at him, seeing the love in his eyes for the first time. It was a bit of a surprise to see, but after last night, hearing him say those three little words, I was more than happy to notice it.

“Okay.”

                                                        ➢➢➢

I squealed as Luke spun me around in the water, splashing the other boys in the process. He took extra care to not get my piercing wet. The sun was starting to set, but there was something about being in the water with my best friends that made me never want to leave.

“It’s getting colder. We should head in,” Calum said, starting to head towards the house.

“He’s right,” Luke said, still holding me in his arms.

“Boo,” I whined, but not letting go of him.

“Come on now little dove. This means we can eat and relax the rest of the night,” he said, giving me a smile.

“Ugh fine,” I said, tilting my head back in defeat.

“If you two don’t stop flirting, I’m going to drown myself in the ocean,” Calum said, making me laugh.

Luke set me down, allowing me to run over to Calum. He effortlessly picked me up for a piggyback ride.

“Cheer up Cal. I’ll get you laid in New York,” I teased, his laugh ringing out.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he laughed, putting me on my feet in front of the back porch steps.

“I’ll be the best wing woman you’ve ever had,” I said, wrapping an arm around him the best way I could.

“Oh really Elle?” he asked, tossing me a towel.

“Just you wait and see,” I said, winking at him.

“Alright, alright. Cozy up and let’s have some s’mores,” Ashton said, grabbing a towel.

“Aye aye Captain,” I teased, nudging him a little.

He rolled his eyes before nudging me back.

“Grab your guitar too Luke,” he said before Luke could walk inside.

“Why of course my good Sir,” Luke said, bowing in front of Ashton.

I laughed and followed after him into the house.

“Essie, want a hoodie?” Ashton asked while we climbed the stairs together.

“No. I’ll just put leggings on or something,” I said with a shrug.

“Or are you hoping that Luke will give you one?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at me.

“Ashton,” I warned, taking out a pair of pajama shorts and a navy blue long sleeve.

“What? You both admitted your feelings I don’t get why you aren’t together,” he said, tugging on a hoodie.

“We haven’t talked about that yet,” I said, walking past him to the bathroom.

“And why not?” he asked through the door.

“Because a certain someone interrupted us,” I said flatly.

I opened the door, pulling my hair into a bun.

“I didn’t know that you two were finally talking about your feelings,” he defended, holding his hands up.

“Yeah well, the next time it looks like two people are about to kiss, don’t interrupt,” I said, pulling on a pair of socks.

“Note taken,” he said with a laugh.

When we went back down, everyone was already outside again. I heard the sound of Luke’s guitar and everyone’s laughter. This vacation was already a dream, but seeing all of my friends around a fire with music being played made it even more surreal. It was almost like something out of storybook.

“There they are,” Crystal said, making all of them look at me and Ashton.

I smiled before sitting next to Luke, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Luke, can you play us that song you wrote last night?” Michael asked, his own guitar in hand.

I lifted my head to look at Luke, surprised that he hadn’t told me.

“Yeah, play it for us,” I agreed, smiling softly at him.

I saw him blush before nodding. He adjusted so his fingers were over the frets better. He started playing a riff that Michael copied over time.

“Find me at quarter to three, cigarette in hand,” he sang, a little unsure of his words.

I listened intently, taking in the words as he sang them.

“Darling all of my wrongs, they lead me right to you, wrapped in your arms, I swear I’d die for your love, your love, I’m a better, better man,” he sang, eyes meeting mine with the final words of the song.

It all connected in that moment. He had written the song about me. The words rang through my mind again, analyzing them over again. The love I felt for him became heightened, wishing we were alone so I could tell him.

“It’s great Luke,” Michael said, snapping me out of my Luke trance.

“Thanks,” he said, turning away from me.

There was a bright blush across his cheeks. Without thinking, I kissed his cheek quickly, not caring if everyone saw or if there were pictures taken of the moment. The blush deepened causing me to smile. Luke chuckled, trying to shake off the dumb look of happiness on his face. He started playing the opening of “Gone, Gone, Gone” by Phillip Phillips. I hummed along quietly while he sang, loving the moment we were in. Before long, I joined him, our voices melting into a beautiful harmony. We had never sang together until now, but as our voices hit my ears, I wondered why we hadn’t.

“I love you long after you’re gone, gone, gone,” we sang, our eyes meeting once again.

I felt the mutual love between us blossoming in front of our eyes. It took everything to not kiss him again, but I knew that I didn’t have to. Luke knew, as did I, and it was all I needed in that moment. No words were needed because I was already his and he was already mine.

OH SHIT I HAVE TAKEN IT THERE! ARE THEY GONNA KISS SOON? Who knows? Well I do, but you can’t have that knowledge yet. Also, I know Better Man wasn’t written about Estelle but I thought it would be a good origin for it that held meaning. 

tag loves. @24kcalum @thruheavenandhighwater @bbycal @notoriouslyhood @slimthicccal @tommossoccer @cashton-queen @a-little-international @thebookamongmen @jetblackyoungblood @kiss-the-kat @no-guilt-in-living

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

Part 9

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

@walkerinfolkvangr @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove @littleblossom357   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82   @bella-ca  

Masterlist

Part 9

Once Amanda was finished in the bathroom, Thomas stepped into the shower and let the hot water soothe his tense muscles. He was starting to feel the long hours of working on the screenplay along with romancing Amanda before and away from the press. The latter had become more important to him.

They had checked in earlier that week into The Four Seasons. Spectacular views of Paris in early spring could be seen from their windows and balcony. While the outside promised romance, inside had become a place to work.

Amanda immediately began on the screenplay once their bags were brought up on the first day. She seemed obsessed to having his vision brought to light. When he mentioned how hard she was working, she explained that she owed it to him for all he had done for her.

Thomas found himself less inclined to work and more into seducing his wife. He still held firm on his abstaining from sex until he knew that this was both what they wanted. He thought it was to protect his heart, yet the way things had been going...his heart was pretty much a lost cause.

Thanks to Holly and Addison, they had an itinerary of activities and restaurant reservations that were sure to be prime paparazzi hangouts. Addison even sent a detailed list of what clothes were to be worn for each day and evening. The couple had been photographed throughtout their stay walking hand in hand through museums and dressed up for nights out.

On the sixth day of their trip, Thomas walked into the suite and saw Amanda typing steadily on some notes he had written the previous night. He walked up behind her and began to massage her shoulders. He bent down and gently kissed her ear. "What would you like to do tonight?" He asked as his lips followed a path from her ear to brush along her jaw and neck.

"I..." Amanda shivered when he slowly sucked where her pulse throbbed. She tried again to get her thoughts on anything other than what his touch was doing to her. "Dinner, I suppose. I think Holly has us reservations somewhere." She closed her eyes when his lips ensnared hers. Her hand moved to the back of his neck, while her fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of neck. He let the back of his fingers move down her cheek as he fell deeper into the kiss. After he released her, she stared at him a few moments and then pulled up the night's plans.

Tonight's called for the two to dress in formal wear. Thomas stepped out of the shower and put his boxers and white t-shirt on. He wiped the steam from the mirror and searched for his razor. Amanda knocked on the bathroom door and walked in for her makeup bag. She was wearing one of the hotel's fluffy white robes.

His eyes settled at the hint of cleavage that teased with her movements. She glanced at their reflection in the mirror and noticed where his eyes were. A grin played about her lips as she turned and left with her small bag. Without thinking, he followed her to the doorway and watched her sit down and begin to put her makeup on.

He shook himself out of his thoughts of unwrapping her out of that robe that was tied with a bow. He quickly shaved and dressed. He stepped out putting his cufflinks in and froze when he saw Amanda. She was in the bedroom holding her dress in place over her chest.

She walked over to him and presented her back. "I'm afraid I need your help with the buttons. He took a deep breath and began to push the small pearl shaped buttons through the loops. His fingers brushed against her skin and he tried not to think about undoing his work and strip her out of the dress.

Amanda glanced over her shoulder. "Having trouble?"

Thomas cleared his throat nervously. "No. I was wondering why Addison would insist on a dress with so many tiny buttons."

Amanda bit back a smile as she watched his head bent in concentration in the mirror. She knew exactly why Addison had picked such a dress. He finally finished the last button and placed a kiss on the back of her neck. She turned around and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I'm afraid that I'll need you to help me get out of this when we come back."

He placed his hands on her waist and studied her. Her red lace dress was eye catching with its vibrant color, hint of skin, and shimmery skirt. The reporters would notice it immediately.

"Is something wrong?" She asked as he continued to look at her silently.

"No."

She let her head fall back for a moment. "Thomas." Could the man not be a little more elaborate?

"You look beautiful. I was merely noticing what would draw the cameras toward you." He checked the time and put his jacket on. "Ready to go?"

Amanda admired him silently and nodded. There was something about him in formal wear that caused the butterflies in her stomach to practice dive bombing maneuvers. He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of their room. In the elevator he began the same speech he gave each time they stepped out of their room of how they should look while out in public.

"I am happy to be with you," Amanda mumbled. "I don't have to act."

Before Thomas could respond, the doors opened and she stepped out in the lobby. He followed her and put his arm around her as they stepped outside.

Paparazzi began to snap pictures and shout questions to the couple. Thomas took her hand and managed to have a pleasant look on his face. Amanda was smiling and her cheeks were slightly pink. He told the photographers that they were enjoying their honeymoon and looked forward to the rest of it. They got into the waiting car and relaxed when it drove off. He pulled at his collar while watching the city pass by. Amanda stared out her own window while chewing on her bottom lip.

Thomas looked at her and noticed the telling action. He whispered her name and captured her bottom lip in a kiss when she turned. She gasped and pulled back. Her long lashes lifted and she stared into his eyes, wondering what he truly felt. He had stressed so often that they had to appear to be in love and happy. Was he having to try? Were the kissing and affection in private merely a rehearsal?

He took the hand that was against his chest and laid a kiss on her palm. She could feel the worries multiply with each gesture. He had admitted he wanted all from her when they married. Did he still? Had the last few days trying to have a relationship cause him to feel differently?

"I can practically see the thoughts revolving in your mind." He said softly.

She lowered her gaze and glanced at their driver. She did not want him to overhear. She leaned closer and whispered directly in Thomas' ear. "Do you," she grimaced and shook her head. "Never mind."

She turned away from him and pulled her hand out of his grasp. She watched as a light misting of rain began to fall and silently wished she was back in Cordonia, in her own room with no worries about relationships.

"Do I what?" He asked, surprised at her distancing herself from him.

She shrugged her shoulder. "It doesn't matter. Let's forget about it."

Thomas did not possess the kind of temperament to let things go easily. He detested being left in the dark and refused to remain there. He took her hand and repeated his question. Her eyes narrowed as she turned back to him. She saw only concern and confusion. Amanda took a deep breath and released it as she stared down at their hands. "Is it all an act?"

"Is what an act?" He asked.

She glanced at their driver and leaned in to whisper. "All of it. The affection, kind gestures, and kisses...are they all practice so that the act is perfect in front of the media?"

She slowly moved back and looked up at him, her own vulnerability laid bare before him. She wished she knew what his facial expressions meant. She had never seen the one currently displayed and he had yet to respond to her question.

Thomas was completely flabbergasted. Had he not been clear when he told her he wanted her and this marriage? How had she become so mistaken of his intentions? Did he do or say something to place such doubt?

"It isn't an act." He stated firmly.

"Is any of it--"

"None." He watched her try and accept his words. "Why would you even think that?"

She blushed some. "You keep harping on how we should appear in front of the press." Her whisper broke off as her voice shook. She took another deep breath and tried to calm down. "I wondered if you were having trouble pretending to like me and--"

He kissed her. It was either that or lose his temper in front of their driver. Once he knew he would not yell, he released her from the kiss. "I have no trouble showing something I actually feel. There is no act on my part."

Before either could go into more detail, the driver stopped the car in front of the restuarant. Thomas stepped out of the car and straightened his jacket. He held his hand out to help Amanda step out. Her hand shook as she placed it in his. He shut the car door after giving the driver instructions.

When they approached the hostess desk at their restaurant, the manager walked up with a snobbish air that disappeared when he saw Amanda. "Ta grâce! It has been too long. Nous saluons le retour!" He eyed Thomas and his smile grew. "Votre mari, non?"

Amanda smiled and held her hands out to him. "It is good to see you again. Oui, this is my husband, Thomas Hunt." She squeezed the manager's hands. "Thomas, this is Monsieur Louis Mitchell. Many of us in Cordonia have tried to steal him away to work for us, but then we realize we would have no reason to return to Paris if we did." Louis began to laugh and talk at a pace that left Thomas more confused by the moment.

"I have your table all ready. I personally selected the spot. Très romantique!" He led them through the main dining room, where patrons pointed and whispered at them, and into a smaller area with low lighting. Their table was set by a large bay window that overlooked the Seine. It had a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket set to the side along with a single rose set over one of the plates.

"This is perfect. Merci beaucoup, Louis."

Louis beamed and held her chair for her. He popped open their champagne and told them that their server would be by in a moment. "If you need anything, please let me know." He bowed when they thanked him again.

Thomas watched the man leave with a slight bounce in his step. "How do you know him?"

"The court often comes to Paris for one thing or another. A few years ago, Liam and I got seperated from the court during an outing and we stumbled upon this restaurant. There had been a cancellation and we were able to be seated. Louis was short handed on staff that night and he was waiting on us. Our patience and understanding, followed by numerous compliments endeared ourselves to him. We always manage to come here at least once each visit. He has been kind to us each time."

Thomas covered her hand with his as his expression softened. "I believe it would be difficult to find someone that could be rude to you."

Amanda chuckled. "Oh they are out there. I try and avoid them."

Thomas opened his mouth to only be interrupted by the manager returning, anxiously ringing his hands.

Louis checked over his shoulder and began to speak quickly in a low voice. "A woman is being horrible to Nanette." He paused when Amanda gasped in anger. "Oui. I knew you would understand."

"I want Nanette to be our waitress." She said with a wink to Louis. Her voice became firm and reminded Thomas of one used to her commands being followed. "I will leave if my demands are not met at once! Send Randolph to finish waiting on the problem." She added with a dramatic flourish of her hand.

Louis bowed deeply. "Tu es un ange, ta grâce." He quickly left them to make the arrangements.

Thomas observed the man work to change servers around. "I know you are an angel, but what about this makes him realize it?"

Amanda blushed at his words. "Louis has a crush on Nanette. Someone is treating her horribly and she possesses some stubborn pride. She would never ask to be changed to another table. My demanding for her to be our server saves her pride and makes Louis feel like he is protecting her."

Thomas shook his head in amazement. "And Randolph?"

"Oh he loves playing the stereotypical rude Frenchman. He is really a sweetheart, but he refuses to be kind to those who are mean to the ones he cares about. Louis gave him a job without any refrences required when he found out he needed the money to take care of his little brothers and sister. Nanette worked with him every free moment they had to make him a knowledgeable server."

Thomas sat back in amazement. "How do you remember all this about people you only see a couple of times a year?"

She lifted her glass and sipped the champagne. "It's hard to forget the people who are nice."

He picked up his menu to only have it snatched away by Louis. "Non! You will have a meal created specifically in your honor." He smiled at Nanette who nodded in agreement. "Oui. We will handle everything for the newlyweds."

Amanda surrendered her menu and tried not to laugh at Thomas looking incredulous at the two. He was about to argue when Louis brought him a glass of scotch.

He picked it up and looked at Amanda. "How did they know?"

"Perhaps Holly told him." She smiled when he visibly relaxed.

His dark eyes focused on her and he leaned forward, gaining her attention. "About what we discussed in the car,"

She averted her eyes and shook her head. "No need to explain."

He laid his hand on hers. "There is. I meant what I told you in the car and when we first married. The only reason I bring up our appearance is because I want the press to see how happy I am and hopefully you are."

"Thomas." Amanda began only to be interrupted by Nanettte bringing some bread to the table. Once she was gone, Thomas stood up and took Amanda's hand.

"Dance with me."

She looked over to where some couples were dancing to the slow piano music. Amanda stood up and followed him. He turned and placed his hand at her back while taking her right hand. He moved her in time with the beat.

Amanda breathed in his aftershave and felt her pulse race when his hand settled lower on her back, pulling her closer to his body. She lifted her head to be able to see his face. "This is our first dance."

He blinked and tried to remember another incident that they might have danced together. "So it is."

Amanda tilted her face up and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, catching him off guard. His steps faltered even more when she spoke. "In case I wasn't clear before, I am very happy being married to you."

His arm tightened around her while his lips brushed a kiss to her forehead. When the song ended he followed Amanda back to their table and a smiling Nanette. She poured the wine that went with the first course.

Course after course was followed by pleasant conversation and many moments of each other a stealing another piece of the other's heart. Before dessert was brought out, Amanda excused herself. She walked into the ladies room and checked her reflection. Her eyes widened when someone stepped up behind her.

"Is there something wrong?" Amanda asked Monica.

"Not exactly. I heard you married Thomas." Her calculating eyes remained on Amanda as she moved away from the sink.

"I did." Amanda stood calmly before her, waiting for the true purpose of her remaining in the bathroom was.

"I have a proposition of sorts to offer that I think will end up being beneficial for the three of us." The model began to reapply her lipstick, her eyes darting between the mirror and Amanda.

"What sort of proposition?"

"I have heard how having lovers is a norm in Cordonia, especially among the nobility. I am willing to be Thomas' mistress. This way while you are away in Cordonia doing whatever your duties are, he will have me while remaining in California. I will make sure we are discreet while we are together. I'm sure you already have someone waiting on you back at your home. You will know who is taking care of Thomas, thus saving you a period of guessing or uncomfortable confrontations." She smiled at Amanda believing that what she offered was generous.

Amanda could feel the anger churn in her stomach. "Let me see if I understand this. You approach me on my honeymoon to offer yourself as my husband's mistress on the off chance that I follow what some do in my country?"

Monica nodded slowly noticing for the first time how livid Amanda was turning.

"You--"

Thomas heard a commotion as Nanette and Louis rushed to another area of the restaurant. He wondered what was going on and turned back to look out the window at the lights of Paris.

Amanda returned to the table with flushed cheeks. She picked up her spoon and held it in a white knuckled grip. She stabbed at her chocolate mousse and reached for her wine. Her hand shook as she downed the glass. Her overly bright eyes met his when he asked what was wrong.

Her mind whirled with thoughts and new questions. "Monica offered us her services." She watched his face carefully to see if there was any desire for the gorgeous model.

Thomas seemed perplexed. "What would we need a model for?"

Amanda's grip on her spoon tightened. "She offered to be your mistress while I am away in Cordonia."

Thomas dropped his spoon. "What? When did she say this?"

"A few minutes ago in the ladies room."

Thomas noticed that Amanda was shaking and pushed his creme brulee toward her. "You will get more satisfaction cracking through that."

A surprised laugh escaped her lips. She broke through the caramelized top and couldn't help but smile. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked as he stole a bite of her chocolate mousse.

"Make me laugh when I am ready to yell." She took a bite of his dessert before passing it back to him. Her anger began to change into worry. "Thomas?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you know about what many nobles in Cordonia do? Is that why you thought we could be happy together? Because I will tell you right now that I will not put up with you having a mistress! My family never followed that path and my close friends do not agree with it. I..." Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't think I could handle seeing you with someone else. If that is your plan, then we need to get an annulment. Now."

Thomas dropped his spoon again and stood up. "We're leaving." He motioned to Louis and thanked him for their meal. The manager beamed at their compliments while he and Nanette refused any money, stressing this was their wedding gift." Thomas pulled the two aside for a private talk. Amanda watched as she felt her heart sink. All three looked angry and Louis had his hand over his heart while he dramatically spoke. Thomas nodded and returned to Amanda.

He took her hand and led her out of the restaurant. He left her standing on the sidewalk and spoke to their driver. He turned and began to guide Amanda down the street. Once they were well away from people he stopped and grasped her arms.

"Listen very carefully, for I am starting to believe you haven't each time I have been open with you." His dark brown eyes remained locked with hers as he spoke. "I do not, nor did I ever, plan on having a mistress. I had no clue that was the norm in your country. I expect, if we are to remain married after Liam picks his bride, for you to remain true to me. I would never be able to accept you having a lover. I told you once I want all of you. I should tell you now that I do not share what is mine."

His grip on her arms lessened as he let them move down to her waist. He pulled her close to him while his lips crashed down on hers. She held on to his lapels as he ravaged her mouth. He could not quite shake his anger at Monica causing this new doubt to creep in nor her gall at suggesting such a thing. Thomas released Amanda and took her back to the car.

They remained silent on the ride back to the hotel. They quickly walked through the lobby and into their room. Thomas untied his tie and shrugged out of his jacket. He came up behind Amanda and began to undo the tiny buttons. She looked over her shoulder at him and broke the tense silence. "What did you say to Louis?"

His face hardened with his anger. "I told them to never accept a reservation from Monica and to tell others to refuse her. I let them know what she said to you in the bathroom."

Amanda closed her eyes in embarrassment. "You shouldn't have done that. I--"

He looked up at her. "I am not done." He finished the last few buttons and turned her to face him. "I will make it very clear that she will never work for me. You are the single most important person in my life. And I refuse to allow anyone to cause you to doubt me or anything in our life together."

Her lips parted in surprise by his impassioned speech. She watched as he turned and left the room so that she could get undressed. Amanda moved as if in a daze while changing. She sank down on the bed, thinking of all he had said and done. She realized that the feelings she once felt for Maxwell were nothing compared to what she felt for Thomas.

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries pt. 26

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Arthur’s POV

LATER THAT DAY

SHADY BELLE

Hitching our horses at the posts outside of camp, Eddie went off to get somethin’ to eat while I searched for Dutch, eager to give him all the info Trelawny had told us the previous day.

It looked like the gang was a bit more agitated than usual -- aside from little Jack who was mindin’ his own business and playin’ in the grass -- and not too far away from me, I could hear Bill and Javier arguing while Kieran got trapped in the middle, unsure of how to handle the situation like the innocent bystander he was.

What really concerned me though -- outta all this unrest -- was of course, Micah...who seemed intent on hammerin’ his boot-licking rhetoric into Dutch’s head at the moment as they spoke on the manor’s front porch, hidden away from the rest of the gang.

For whatever reason, they was talkin’ in hushed tones and making sure to keep their voices low, almost as if they didn’t want no one else to know what they were saying. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought much of it -- Dutch had private conversations with the gang’s members all the time, after all -- but the fact that it was Micah made me suspect something was off, and I didn’t like it one bit.

Approachin’ the two of them at a casual pace, I interrupted their little secret meeting, just barely picking up the last sentences of their conversation.

“--you really believe that?” Dutch questioned, sounding slightly dismissive, but also strangely intrigued.

“It’s just somethin’ to bear in mind.” Micah suggested, holding his hands up in a diplomatic manner.

His eyes wandered over to me, making him drop the subject. “Ah, but look who it is. Mister Morgan. You certainly know how to show up at the most inconvenient times, don’t you?”

I scoffed. “Nothing’s convenient when you’re around.”

Micah rolled his eyes at that and leaned against a pillar, makin’ himself right at home as Dutch brought his attention to me. “A real gentleman, as always.”

“Arthur!” Dutch called out, lighting a cigar. “You’re back. What’ve you learned?”

“We met with Trelawny,” I replied. “He says the party’s in four days. Well-- three, now.”

Dutch tossed the match away. “Three days. That should give us enough time, but we’ll have to move quick. So, what’s the situation lookin’ like? What can we expect?”

“About the same as any party. Accordin’ to Trelawny, there’ll be lots of rich folk, lots of money, and lots of security.”

The other man grinned. “Sounds good.”

I hesitated. “...And there’s also the fact that guests ain’t allowed to carry weapons on the boat.”

He quirked a brow. “What? How are we supposed to rob people without any guns?”

“Josiah reckons we can cheat in the Poker games,” I explained. “One of us’ll act all prim and proper, slip our way in, and another person will tell them what moves to make from a distance. I think Strauss would be best for that job.”

Dutch nodded. “I agree. This is definitely up Strauss’ alley. And what about the person who’ll be playin’ Poker? Any ideas who should do that?”

I rubbed my chin. “...I say Eddie.”

He breathed out a puff of smoke. “Not Micah?”

A sarcastic chuckle escaped me. “Well, that depends on if you actually want the money or not.”

The sleazy man frowned at that. “Oh...very funny, Morgan--”

“--Enough!” Dutch stepped in almost instantly, scowling at us. “Don’t you two start now.” He let out a fatigued sigh, goin’ along with my recommendation. “Very well. Since Arthur’s the one been investigatin’ this, I’ll go with what he says. Alright, then. Eddie will do the job. In the meantime...”

Dutch sauntered down the porch’s short stairs, gazing at the surrounding view. “...I don’t like the idea of us being completely unarmed on that boat, so I’ll see if we can’t disguise some of our boys as the security. Maybe even as the servants, too. As for the rest of you,” he glanced at me and Micah, “...just prepare yourselves. Once we have this money in our pockets, we’re leavin’ Shady Belle the first chance we get. We’ve cowered in this swamp for long enough, and our enemies are too close for comfort. It’s time for us to get out of America. It’s time for us to disappear, and it’s time...to live as the free men we was born to be.”

THREE DAYS LATER

NIGHTTIME

THE GRAND KORRIGAN, SAINT DENIS

Straightenin’ my tie, I hurriedly walked alongside Trelawny and Eddie as the magician led us into the main area of the boat, all three of us trying to maintain a casual temperament while we passed by other guests in the party.

All around us, I could see servers practically shoving champagne glasses into peoples’ hands, high-society folks insincerely flatterin’ each other, “esteemed” businessmen getting drop-dead drunk at the bar, musicians slaving over their instruments, and even politicians bragging about how oh-so-extravagant their lives were as they turned every conversation into a gloating competition.

And as if the guests themselves weren’t insufferable already, the decor on this boat made me feel like a peasant. Just within this little area, there were two diamond chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling, priceless paintings adorning the mahogany walls, and lavish furniture made from the most expensive of materials. It felt like I was walkin’ through a prodigal’s dream.

Really, the only good thing ‘bout this party so far was the ragtime music comin’ from the piano...and even that was being drowned out by the haughty laughter of the “fine” men and women on this boat.

Fortunately though, we weren’t entirely alone. I spotted Javier disguising as a guard at one of the doorways, and I also saw Lenny masquerading as a cleaner while he pretended to scrub the floor with a broom. And, sittin’ ever so conspicuously in one of the corners as he observed the Poker games, Strauss calmly enjoyed a glass of Scotch, silently acknowledging our presence with a subtle nod as he took a sip.

Personally, I just wanted to get the money, get this over with, and get the hell outta here. The fact that I was unarmed made me uneasy enough, but now that Eddie was gonna be the one throwin’ himself into the center of attention, I couldn’t help but fear for his safety. I mean, things was precarious already with Atticus constantly huntin’ us down, and on top of that, I didn’t even know how we were gonna escape this boat in case something went wrong. That tended to be the case when Trelawny was the one in charge of planning.

If anything were to go awry tonight, we’d be dead men...and I certainly didn’t wanna think about what would happen to the rest of the gang if we got killed. We had to be extremely cautious.

“Alright, gentlemen!” Trelawny said energetically, presenting us to the flamboyant party. “Here we are. The Grand Korrigan. Quite a splendid sight, wouldn’t you agree?”

Eddie glanced around in disgust, evidently not fond of the overall uptight mood.

“...I hate this already.”

Josiah let out a chuckle. “Hold on to that feeling. You’ll blend in with these...wonderful people effortlessly.”

I went straight to business. “Well, whatever we do, we need to move quick. We ain’t got much time. Eddie, why don’t you go ahead and join one o’ the games? And make sure you can see Strauss from your seat. Trelawny, try to keep the other guests distracted from us, would you? We got enough eyes on us as is.”

The magician nodded. “Alright. Should be easy enough. And what about you, Arthur? What’ll you be doing?”

I lowered my voice. “Dutch mentioned there might be more money stashed away on this boat somewhere. I’m gonna have a look around, see if I can’t figure out where it is.”

Josiah raised a brow. “You seem unsure?”

A worried sigh escaped me. “Robbin’ a heavily armed riverboat without a gun tends to bring out the self-doubt in me...!”

The other man scoffed. “These people are virtually idiots! This is simple stuff.” He adjusted his top hat, switchin’ to a more elevated tone. “Now, have a good time, gentlemen, but don’t lose too much money...or your wives are going to kill me!”

I patted Trelawny on the shoulder, instantly makin’ my way towards the sumptuous-looking bar as Eddie got to work. “Whatever you say.”

Squeezin’ through the scattered crowds of people, I strolled past the multiple Poker tables as well as servers who were tryin’ to get my attention as I found a place to sit at the bar, attempting to look as ordinary as possible.

Things seemed to be goin’ well so far, and if I was being honest, this party wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be. Sure, I didn’t really care for the guests or the social climbin’ or...really, any of it, but at least they had Poker to keep people entertained, and loads of money just sitting around. It was already a helluva lot more interesting than Miss Powell’s nightmare of a gala, and I hoped this one wouldn’t end the same way. Shootouts weren’t exactly my favorite pastime, especially when I didn’t have a gun.

Pulling up a chair at one of the tables, Eddie took on a much more pretentious facade as he introduced himself to the other fellers sittin’ around him, almost making me laugh at how well he was blending in with them.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Eddie greeted, sounding annoyed. “Edward Dawson. Sorry I’m late. My driver took his sweet time getting here.”

The man opposite of him smiled with the least amount of emotion I’d ever seen, his nose damn-near touchin’ the ceiling with how upturned it was.

“Desmond Blythe.”

The other players casually waved at the pianist. “Hello there.”

Gathering the cards, the dealer split the deck in half as Eddie got comfortable in his chair, keepin’ a close eye on Strauss who was guiding him from a distance.

“Not to worry,” the dealer reassured. “Welcome to the game, Mister Dawson.” He began shuffling the cards. “Okay, gentlemen. Let’s play.”

Desmond leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “I hope you’re a player. Been too many cowards at these tables recently. Nothing less dignified than a man afraid to lose a little money.”

Briefly flickin’ his eyes in my direction, Eddie gave me a confident but slight nod as he took his cards in hand, trying to make some sort of conversation.

“Well, would you look at that,” the boy commented, glancing at his pile of chips. “Chips already stacked up and good to go. Thank God someone here knows what they’re doing. I was beginning to think everyone in Saint Denis was incompetent.”

The dealer sat back. “We aim to please, sir.”

“So...” Eddie said, bringing his attention to Strauss, “how are we all faring?”

The player sitting to Eddie’s left shrugged. “Some better than others.”

The boy folded. “If we all fared the same in life, now where would the fun be?”

Desmond grinned in agreement, tossin’ in his bet. “Quite.”

Eddie examined Mister Blythe for a moment, his eyes widening in recognition.

“Wait,” he inquired as the other gentlemen made their moves, “you wouldn’t happen to be Desmond Blythe the Hosiery King, would you? Perhaps I should’ve brought my other wallet.”

The conceited man appeared somewhat irritated at the observation. “...Not my preferred title, but...yes, you should have. Haha!”

Continuing the game, Desmond pushed all his chips into the center of the table without a hint of hesitance as the other men reluctantly followed his actions, kissin’ their sweet chips goodbye as they went all-in.

“...Here we go, then...” one of them murmured.

“To Hell with it.” Another said, damning the risks.

Finally revealin’ their cards, Blythe placed his hand down and laid out three queens as a smug expression crept its way onto his face, the other players unveiling measly combinations.

The dealer picked up the deck, adding two final community cards before announcing the winner.

“Mister Blythe wins with three queens.”

He let out a victorious guffaw at the outcome, tossing his cards back to the dealer as the majority of the table quickly cleared out.

“Goodbye, gentlemen!” Desmond looked at Eddie. “I guess it’s just you and me now, friend.”

The pianist prepared himself. “I guess it is.”

“Time to see if you’re really the man you seem to think you are.”

Eddie straightened his posture, scootin’ his chair closer to the table. “Likewise, Mister Blythe.”

Desmond placed a big blind. “So, what business are you in, Mister Dawson?”

The boy took his cards in hand. “I’m an oil man.”

“Funny,” Blythe picked up, “I haven’t heard of you.”

Eddie threw in a bet. “Oh...you will.”

Blythe decided to raise and took a handful of chips, nonchalantly setting them down next to Eddie’s.

“You got enough chips there to go a little higher?” He taunted. Jesus, this man was infuriating.

The pianist looked at Strauss’ signal, makin’ the bet even higher. “Your confidence is refreshing, Mister Blythe. I’ll raise.”

Desmond’s arrogance dimmed slightly at the action. “Call.”

The dealer placed three community cards down, revealing a seven of diamonds, a ten of clubs, and a jack of spades.

Blythe’s snobbish smirk returned almost immediately. “Okay, Mister Dawson. I’m all-in.”

Eddie went along, throwing in some chips. “I’ll call.”

Displayin’ their cards, Desmond laid out a pair of jacks while “Dawson” revealed a pair of queens, both of them eager to see the last two community cards.

Slipping a pair out of the deck, the dealer presented a king of clubs and a three of hearts, crowning Eddie the victor.

Desmond angrily tossed his cards away at the sight, cursin’ to himself in a heated tone. “Shit...! Shit!”

Eddie chuckled, gathering his prize. “Looks like good fortune is on my side today. I suppose this means you’re done?”

Blythe’s eyes narrowed in an offended manner. “Done?”

“Bust,” the boy explained, rising from his chair. “Or...do you have something else to play with?”

“...Meaning?”

The pianist paused for a second, pickin’ up some of the chips. “Well...I was told there were some serious players on this boat. But maybe that’s not you, no offense--”

Desmond pointed a finger at Eddie. “Sit your Limey ass down.”

Eddie firmly put the chips back on the table. “...Why?”

Blythe wasn’t quite finished just yet. “I got a watch.”

The pianist chuckled sarcastically. “My, my.”

“An expensive one...” He clarified. “Real fine. Swiss. A Reutlinger, no less. It’s in the safe upstairs. It’s worth more than you.”

Eddie considered the offer, glancin’ at both me and Strauss before deciding to accept the challenge.

“Alright,” he agreed, sitting back down. “I trust you.”

Desmond seemed satisfied. “Good. Now play.”

“...As you wish.”

Resuming the game unexpectedly, the dealer began shufflin’ the deck once again as Blythe and Eddie placed their blinds, eager to see who the winner of this round would be. Though, I guessed most of us already knew.

“So,” Desmond said as the dealer gave him his cards, “you must know Leviticus Cornwall, big oil man like you?”

The boy quickly thought of a lie. “Of course. We’ve crossed paths. I was fortunate enough to tour an operation of his in New Hanover.”

Ignoring Eddie’s previous statement, Blythe barely peeked at his cards before lettin’ out a confident laugh, instantly shoving all his chips into the center of the table.

“I am one-hundred percent all-in, Mister Dawson!” He announced. Even the dealer could sense his boldness.

“Don’t worry, sir,” he reassured meekly. “Everyone is the author of his own good fortune...”

Eddie looked to Strauss for guidance, sighing in uncertainty as he followed Desmond’s actions. “Well...nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

The two of them flipped over their cards.

“Pair of kings.” Eddie observed, earning a chortle from his opponent.

“Very good,” Blythe praised, displayin’ a pair of aces, “but not good enough!”

“...Shit.”

Layin’ out all the community cards at once, the dealer put down a nine of diamonds, an ace of diamonds, and a four of spades, followed by a jack of diamonds -- the tables was turnin’ now -- and a two of diamonds.

“Yes...!” Eddie cheered. “You little beauty.”

The dealer shrugged at Desmond. “Hard lines, Mister Blythe. Mister Dawson wins with an ace-high diamond flush.”

Desmond shook his head out of annoyance. “God...damn you...! Err, n-no offense.”

Eddie smiled proudly at him. “None taken.”

A man who I assumed was Blythe’s butler came waltzin’ up to the table, congratulating the pianist on his “victory.”

“Well played, sir.” He placed a comforting hand on his master’s shoulder. “...Unlucky, Desmond.”

The pianist straightened his suit. “Forgive my lack of discretion, gentlemen, but...where is this Reutlinger you mentioned?”

Demond’s butler beckoned Eddie. “It’s upstairs. Shall we go and have a look?”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

The boy stood up and began followin’ the man to the ornate stairwell, leaving Blythe all by his lonesome at the table as he grieved for his empty wallet. No one seemed to suspect that Eddie was a cheat -- yet -- and it looked like Desmond’s butler was leading him straight to the stash of cash Dutch mentioned before.

I sighed out of relief.

I guessed now, all we had to focus on was gettin’ off this damned boat before anyone realized just who we were. I wasn’t entirely sure what Trelawny’s plans were for that, but at least we got the money in our pockets. And even better, it seemed as if Josiah, Lenny, Javier and Strauss had all pretty much gone unnoticed by the other guests in the party. ...I only wished I coulda said the same for myself.

Outta the corner of my eye, I spotted one of the guests approachin’ me with a glass of champagne in his hands as he closely studied my face, probably wondering just who the hell I was. ...Shit. Had someone recognized me? I certainly hoped not.

I braced myself for the upcoming conversation, only to hear a surprisingly familiar voice callin’ out to me.

“Fancy meetin’ you here, sunshine.”

My heart practically froze. There was only one person in the entire country who called me that, and just by hearin’ that nickname again, I knew immediately who it was.

I steadily turned to face the man, trying my best to keep calm.

“...Rodrick Kinglsey...?”

The deranged man grinned at me, his injured eye covered by an elegant patch to go with the three-piece suit he was wearing. Though, it didn’t make him look any less crazy.

“Try not to mind the eyepatch,” Rodrick teased, noticin’ my line of sight. “I don’t like it neither, but Atticus said I had to look...presentable. And it seems you’ve cleaned up, too. Heh. The things we do for money...”

He took a sip of his drink. “Now, before you go and do anythin’ stupid, I’d advise you not to make a scene. After all,” Rodrick wrapped a friendly arm around my shoulder and brought my attention to other members of Atticus’ gang who were just now arriving at the party, “I ain’t alone on this boat. Make one wrong move, and it could be your last. ...We can discuss this like gentlemen, can’t we?”

I gritted my teeth in concentration, desperately wishin’ I had a gun on me right now, and also wondering just when the hell Atticus’ gang got on the boat. How did they know we’d be here? When did they even board the ship? Was Atticus with them? It couldn’t just be mere coincidence that we ran into each other.

Goddammit...just when I thought this night was goin’ smoothly.

“What the hell are you people doin’ here?” I whispered sternly, still trapped in Rodrick’s grip.

He laughed casually. “Same as you, I suppose. Just here to enjoy some...‘friendly’ competition.”

I scoffed. “...Sure.”

Kingsley loosely gestured to the Poker games. “So...you try your hand at any o’ these tables yet, Mister Morgan? I’m sure a man like you would do just fine. Especially with a little extra...‘help.”

I picked up on that instantly, my heart startin’ to pound faster with every passing second. This bastard knew about our plans.

“Look,” I snapped back, “if you’re here to steal our score--”

“--Oh, I don’t care about about the score,” Rodrick interrupted. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind robbin’ a few hundred bucks, but I think we both know why I’m really here. Yeah...I’m far more interested in that boy of yours. Mister ‘Dawson.’ You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you, Arthur?”

I cocked my head at him. “Even if I did, you really think I’d tell you?”

The man chuckled. “No. But Atticus insisted I had to be civilized, even though I told him that wouldn’t work.” He gave me a condescending pat on the back. “Arthur Morgan’s a man of action, after all. Not words. Almost nobody knows just how deep his relationship with young Theo goes, yet it’s pretty clear just by watchin’ the things he does.”

A puzzled expression covered my face, causing Rodrick’s smile to stretch even wider.

“Oh, yeah. I saw how you killed Middleton. Hardly left anything to bury. ‘Cept for maybe a finger. Eh, it was for the best, to be honest. Thatcher used to be quite the assassin, but he turned soft when it came to killin’ the Bishop boy. Reminded him too much of his own child.”

The redhead shook his head in an impressed manner. “And poor ol’ Colm. Christ...by the time we went to clean up his body, the man’s face had been smashed in, and there was a hole in his forehead.”

He snickered in a goading tone, trying to spark a fire inside me. “You...really get mad...when people hurt Eddie, don’t you? Almost...uncontrollably so.”

Rodrick leaned closer to my ear. “I wonder how you’d react...if I hurt him?”

I glowered at the man. “What’re you talkin’ about, you crazy bastard? You already did. You tortured the kid.”

“And I enjoyed every second of it,” he admitted, starin’ blankly in the distance. “The boy turned out to be much more resilient than I anticipated, but...just the idea...of what your sour face would look like once you found out what I had done to him...”

Rodrick slowly turned back to look at me and -- upon seein’ my pissed-off expression -- instantly broke out into a hysterical guffaw, his shoulders shakin’ in sync with his laughs as he separated himself from me.

“Yeah...!” He exclaimed, almost cackling at this point. “Pretty much exactly like that!”

The man placed his glass of champagne down on the bar and leaned on it for a moment, wipin’ away a series of genuine tears as he let out an amused sigh.

“Oh...” Rodrick breathed out once his laughter died down. “Who am I kidding, Arthur?” He stood back up, smirkin’ widely at me. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Without warning, the lunatic suddenly smashed his glass into the side of my head and initiated a fight, causing all the other guests on the boat to start screamin’ in alarm as Rodrick unleashed hell, swinging his fists wildly at me like there was no tomorrow.

And just before I could even attempt to bring him down, the man had grabbed a security guard by the collar and repeatedly bashed his head against the bar’s marble counter, stealin’ his gun afterwards before going trigger-happy on me.

“DON’T YOU RUN FROM ME, MORGAN!” He bellowed, firing one shot after another as I ran like hell, splinters erupting behind me once the bullets blasted into the wall.

“WE AIN’T DONE YET!”

Pushin’ over one of the Poker tables, I hastily took cover behind the flimsy piece of furniture while I frantically searched around for any means of defense, shielding myself from Rodrick’s sporadic shots as Javier came running to my rescue.

“Here, Arthur!” He offered, tossing his rifle to me.

Snatching the weapon straight off the floor, I hurriedly cocked the firearm and poked my head out of cover, only to see that Rodrick and his friends had gotten their hands on Lenny, Josiah, and Strauss, and were now holdin’ them hostage.

“Come on out, sunshine!” Kingsley yelled with a demented smile, his voice carrying even more force than the bullets he was firing mere moments ago. “Or I’ll sink this goddamn boat...and every sad son-of-a-bitch on it!”

I retreated back behind the table and slammed my fist on the floor out of frustration, silently cursin’ to myself as I thought about what to do next. Normally, I woulda just killed Rodrick and set Lenny free, but those bastards had captured everyone except me and Javier. If either of us took a single shot, the other two hostages would be executed immediately. We couldn’t fight them head-on, but we also couldn’t let them kill the other gang members.

What the hell were we supposed to do...?!

Takin’ a deep breath, I decided to play along with Rodrick for now and carefully stood up from my hiding spot, instantly causing him and his allies to aim their weapons in my direction as Javier and I approached the middle of the boat.

Kingsley followed my every step with his gun, blatantly grinning out of satisfaction.

“Ah...and there he is,” He taunted, tightenin’ his grip on Lenny’s neck. “The devil himself.”

Javier and I stood side-by-side, paralyzed on the spot like a pair of deer. Neither of us could see any way outta this situation just yet, and aside from all the chaos we was already dealin’ with, Eddie was nowhere to be found.

Whether that was because the boy was hiding somewhere else, or because he had already been captured -- I had no idea. But the thought of Rodrick findin’ him terrified me, and I knew that no matter what happened, I couldn’t tell them where he was. I wouldn’t.

Deciding to take my chances, I inched closer to Kingsley and very subtly took a single step forward with the hopes of catchin’ him by surprise, only to have the man shoot a bullet right in front of my foot as I violently sprung back.

“Move one more...goddamn muscle...!” Rodrick roared, drilling his gun into Lenny’s temple, “and I swear, I will shoot this boy right here, right now, RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!”

I instantly came to halt, admittedly trembling like a little boy on the inside as smoke rose from the wooden planks underneath me. I’d met some crazies in my lifetime -- hell, some of ‘em was even in the gang -- but Kingsley made them all look like saints. Where in the hell did Atticus find this man?

“Well then...” the redhead said, calmin’ down slightly, “now that we have an understanding, won’t you gentlemen be so kind as to drop them weapons, and raise your hands in the air?”

Javier and I exchanged looks with each other, both of us reluctantly followin’ orders before putting our guns down and lifting our arms above us.

“There you go...” Rodrick praised. “Nice and easy. ...Now then,” he cocked the hammer on his pistol, “I don’t believe I was clear enough before. Where exactly is...Mister Ryan?”

Neither of us said anythin’ in response, causing Kingsley to instantly fire a bullet straight into Lenny’s head and kill the kid on the spot.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, about ready to raise hell, only to have an array of guns aiming at me.

“Easy there, sunshine...” Rodrick warned. “Wouldn’t wanna get shot, now would you? After all,” he dropped Lenny’s body to the floor, “you are my favorite out of the entire gang, Arthur. I don’t wanna see you die. And besides, what would poor Eddie do without you there to protect him...?”

Suddenly remembering that Eddie was still out there somewhere, I backed down at the thought of him and forced myself to show some restraint, restlessly stayin’ in place.

Kingsley chuckled at the sight and glanced at one of his comrades, talkin’ about me as if I was some kinda wild animal.

“You see, Mrs. Middleton?” He commented. “That’s how you tame the beast. He ain’t no big, bad wolf like Colm said. The sad truth is...he’s simply human.”

I paused for a moment.

Did he say Mrs. Middleton? Shit. I never knew Thatcher had a wife. But I had no doubts that she knew about me. In fact, there were a lot of secrets within our gang that Atticus’ people seemed to know about, and it made me question just how secure our little camp really was.

Before I could think on the subject any further though, I suddenly noticed Eddie sneakin’ back into this area as he crept through the doorway that led to the stairwell, his clothes stained with small splatters of blood. I guessed he had already been through a fight of his own. I was just glad to see him in one piece.

Getting a closer look at the situation, it didn’t take long for Eddie to figure out just what exactly was goin’ on before he brandished a rifle -- one that he probably stole from the guards -- and steadily aimed it straight at Rodrick’s head, ready to fire.

Just as he went to press the trigger however, one of Kingsley’s friends happened to hear the subtle noises comin’ from Eddie’s direction and instantly spotted him, creating just the distraction that I needed to make a move.

“Rodrick!” They called. “Over there!”

Whirlin’ around in surprise, the man averted his eyes from me and, for just a split second, appeared to forget all about us as I broke into a sprint and charged towards him like an angry bull, tacklin’ him to the floor.

Almost immediately, guns went firing all around us while Josiah broke free from his captor and elbowed them in the face, bolting directly for cover. In the meantime, Strauss was simply dragged away by Mrs. Middleton as he yelled for help, only for his voice to be drowned out by the explosive gunshots thunderin’ all over the place.

In order to avoid the dozens of bullets zippin’ past me, I hurriedly jumped off of Rodrick and reached for my own rifle, making a beeline straight for the exit as Javier ran after me, firing a number of blind shots to distract our enemies.

Sliding behind a wall, I held onto my weapon for dear life and, against my better judgement, quickly glanced back at the scene where the hostages were being held, only to come across the sight of Lenny’s corpse sitting in a pool of blood.

“Goddammit, Lenny...!” I cursed, clenchin’ my jaw. “Eddie?! Are you still alive?”

The pianist called out to me from behind another Poker table.

“For now! We need to get out of here, Arthur! Is there any way to escape?”

I gestured to the door we used to enter the party.

“I think we can leave through there! But we’ll have to swim back to the city! So everyone follow me, and don’t look back! There’s too many of them for us to fight!”

Fleeing from cover, I raced from one end of the boat to another as Eddie, Javier, and Trelawny all ran beside me, our legs just barely escapin’ the shower of bullets that was raining down on the floor beneath us.

It looked like most of Atticus’ gang was stayin’ back and firing at us from a distance, but Rodrick, on the other hand, decided to switch things up and retrieved a shotgun from one of the guards’ bodies, storming after our group like a goddamned predator.

He didn’t seem to give one damn about gettin’ shot or being caught in the crossfire; all he cared about was catching up to us and marched relentlessly through every obstacle in his path, occasionally letting loose a shell here and there as we jolted outta the way.

“...Theodore Bishop!” Rodrick shouted in a singsong tone, cocking his shotgun. “I see you, boy!”

The man fired a shell at Eddie just as we hugged a corner and missed the boy by a centimeter, shattering an ornate lamp into dozens of pieces before proceeding with his hunt.

Finally reaching the exit, I practically tore one of the doors off its hinges and urged everyone else to go through first while Rodrick continued to pursue us, his weapon now out of ammo.

“Hurry!” I exclaimed, holdin’ the door open. “This way!”

Dashing to safety, Trelawny, Javier, and Eddie all scrambled through with an amount of speed I’d never seen as I followed their actions, slammin’ the door shut and locking it tight just before Rodrick could reach us.

The four of us all backed away from the exit and watched in horror as Kingsley viciously bashed the doors from the other side with the stock of his gun, hollerin’ at us like an absolute madman.

“Oh, you think you’re safe back there?!” He hammered his weapon against the wood. “Just wait until I find you again! Y’all are dead men, you hear?! DEAD MEN!”

I placed a firm hand on Eddie’s back and guided him away from the exit, escortin’ everyone to the exterior areas of the boat.

“C’mon,” I said. “We need to leave. Now!”

Scurrying through the corridors, our group wasted no time in putting this godforsaken riverboat behind us as Rodrick kept tryin’ to break the door down, his voice echoing throughout the area like thunder.

I had no idea what the living hell just happened, or how Atticus even knew we was gonna try to rob the boat, but we had to get as far as goddamned possible from Saint Denis now. What on Earth was Dutch thinkin’ when he decided to go after this tip? We already pushed our luck enough, robbing that bank...and I told him people was gonna suffer after what we did to Colm, but he just refused to listen to me. And now, Lenny was dead.

As for Strauss, I didn’t even know what his conditions were. Last I saw him, Mrs. Middleton was haulin’ him away, and I didn’t even have the chance to go after him...or retrieve Lenny’s body.

Everything was falling apart right now. Our gang’s numbers were slowly dwindling, the camp’s morale was next to nonexistent, and all this mayhem only reminded me how important it was to ensure Eddie made it out alive.

He and John...they was the only ones outta all of us who still had a chance to live a normal life. John had a family, and Eddie had a future ahead of him. The rest of us however, we were more ghosts than people. The world didn’t want folk like us no more, and sooner or later, we were just gonna have to come to terms with that.

For now though, all I wanted was to get enough money to leave this place, and possibly even this country. Shady Belle had become more of a large graveyard than a camp at this point...and I didn’t wanna be there when things finally came crashing down.

MIDNIGHT

SAINT DENIS, THE HARBOR

Reachin’ a hand down, I helped Eddie up onto the pier as we all removed ourselves from the cold water, still in shock from everything that just occurred. It looked like Rodrick had given up on his pursuit -- for now -- and for the first time in a while, we actually had a moment to breathe.

Wiping some mud off Eddie, I tidied him up a bit and thoroughly looked him over, making sure the boy was okay.

“You alright?” I asked. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

The pianist shook his head. “No. They roughed me up a little, but I’m fine. It happened when Desmond’s butler took me to collect the watch. Things were going smoothly at first, but then...they just came out of nowhere. Ambushed us. Killed the butler, too...but I managed to escape.”

I froze. “Wait, Rodrick’s men found you?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

A horrible thought crossed my mind. “...Then...then why was Rodrick askin’ me where you were? What was the point of holding Lenny hostage if...he already knew...?”

The pianist’s eyes widened with realization and he furrowed his brows in an apologetic manner, immediately bringin’ a hand up to caress my cheek.

“I...I think Rodrick was playing games with you, Arthur. That’s all he does. That bastard will do anything to trick people into thinking their lives are over for the sole purpose of seeing how they’ll react. I’m...I’m sorry.”

I took a step back from Eddie and dragged a hand through my hair, suddenly feelin’ more disappointed with myself than I ever had in my entire life.

That maniac knew where Eddie was all along. I could’ve just told him his location, and it wouldn’t have made any difference. The boy still would’ve been fine...and Lenny would've been with us now. How the hell did I not see it before...? Oh, you goddamned idiot, Morgan. How did you not realize...?

“...L-Let’s just get back to camp,” I replied, blinking rapidly due to the tears that threatened to spill. “Dutch is probably wonderin’ where we are.”

Trelawny agreed in a disheartened voice. “Indeed. I think I’ll join you gentlemen for now. Saint Denis isn’t exactly ideal anymore.”

Javier jumped in. “And how are we supposed to tell Dutch what happened tonight? Where do we even start?”

I stormed away from the pier with my head hanging low, both confusion and rage rippin’ me apart as I silently damned this entire city to hell, ready to knock some sense into Dutch if he didn’t pack up and leave by tomorrow.

“...With the truth.”

[every-night-that-follows]

41 Weeks and a Year

Characters: Namjoon x reader Genre: Fluff, tiny bit of angst Word count: 3473 Rating: M for language and mentions of sex

4 weeks

Namjoon finds it hard to believe. There’s two little pink lines on a stupid $9.99 stick that you had peed on ten minutes ago that has now officially changed his life forever. You’re watching him hesitantly, biting you lip as his usually acute mind tries desperately to process what this all means.

“Baby?” Namjoon blurts out in a squeak. “Small mini-me?”

You find it hard not to roll your eyes at his reaction. “Yes, Joonie. That’s what happens when two adults have unprotected sex in the broom cupboard at your Album launch party.”

It all clicks into place for him quite suddenly and Namjoon feels an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. He drops to his knees in front of you and lays his cheek again your abdomen, “My god, I’m gonna be a dad!” His beaming smile strikes you right between the eyes. “I can’t wait to tell the boys!”

You push him away with a frown. “Not yet, Joonie. It’s too early. Let’s make sure first, hmm?”

Namjoon pauses mid-text and pouts.

6 weeks

You want to kick yourself. Your words are fucking prophetic. You knew you should’ve kept your fat, unlucky mouth shut but here you were, alone in the emergency department, praying desperately as you felt another sharp cramp radiate through your pelvis.

The triage nurse is walking towards your seat with a sympathetic smile. “Is there anyone I can call for you, miss __?”

Namjoon’s on tour in Japan and you don’t want to upset him. Knowing his temperament, he would agonise over coming home versus staying to lead the boys. You shake your head at the nurse. “No, my mother’s on her way here.”

She nods and leads you into a curtained off cubical. The doctor sees you an hour later and you can barely comprehend what he’s saying as your mother clutches at your hand. He does some blood tests and wheels in an ultrasound machine.

There, in that grainy black and white screen, you see it for the first time. It’s the size of the tip of your pinky finger according to the doctor but there is a definite heartbeat that races like a horses gallop when the Doppler is turned on. The rhythmic beating fills you ears and your heart and you take a recording for Namjoon.

12 weeks

Namjoon can’t hold back the tears.

He knows he’s embarrassing himself in front of the Obstetrician but he can’t help but immediately fall in love with the small, odd creature rolling around on the ultrasound screen in front of him. It’s got four limbs, a massive head and a beautiful heartbeat which Namjoon records on his phone.

He’s holding your hand a little too tight and soaking the sleeve of your blouse but you can’t complain, it was strangely beautiful to watch this usually strong man wear his emotions so glaringly on his sleeve.

“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” The Obstetrician asks.

“Yes.” Namjoon replies immediately but looks guiltily at you. “If that’s ok with you, honey?”

You nod, not minding in the least if Namjoon has a burning curiosity to know.

“It’s a girl.”

You’re ecstatic and there’s an overwhelming sense of amazement but Namjoon clearly feels it more intensely. He’s sobbing now and doing so in an incredibly ugly fashion. Even the Obstetrician looks concerned.

“We’re going to have a baby girl.”

Namjoon makes the recording of her heartbeat his ringtone.

“Guess we should tell the boys,” you mutter to him as he wipes the ultrasound gel off your belly.

15 weeks

Jungkook is talking to your belly again. He tells your baby girl the most incredibly inane facts about dolphins and ginseng and Justin Bieber. This is arguably the longest conversation you’ve ever heard Jungkook have with anyone.

The boys are all just as equally obsessed with your pregnancy though Yoongi will never admit to it. Jin buys endless amounts of pink clothing and Tae can’t stop shopping for toys though you’re not entirely sure they’re all for the baby. Namjoon talks about his “baby girl” like she’s a miracle of humanity and that no baby has ever been born before.

You draw the line when he starts to speculate about how she’s likely to change the human race as we know it.

Jimin’s actions are the most touching. He’s admiring in the quietest kind of way and hovers in the most inconspicuous moments. He holds your elbow when you walk down stairs and picks the boys’ meals knowing exactly what you can and cannot eat at this time. His pockets are strangely always full ginger lozenges to soothe your morning sickness and a bottle of water is never far from hand. “I can’t wait to be a dad, too.” You overhear him say to Namjoon one day.

Namjoon is currently in the corner of his studio where the boys are all gathered. “Honey, listen to this.”

He’s written a new song and the backing beat is the recording of your daughter’s heartbeat.

“I’m gonna put this on our next album.”

20 weeks

“She’s so big!”

Namjoon’s voice is annoyingly crackly over the video call. The wi-fi in his Thailand hotel room can be a bit temperamental.

You roll you eyes and try to get a look at the ultrasound screen yourself. It’s hard balancing a phone at the right angle for Namjoon since he couldn’t be here but you can understand his need to be a part of this.

“I thought you said it was a girl!” He says suddenly outraged. This shocks you into dropping the phone, craning you neck to see what Namjoon had meant.

The Obstetrician laughs patiently. “That’s the umbilical cord, Mr. Kim. Your girl is still a girl.”

Namjoon’s laugh radiates from somewhere on the floor. “Right. I knew that.”

You hum with happiness. This is the magical halfway mark and though you can’t say for sure yet, you think you feel the small fluttering movements you can see on the screen. Your morning sickness has finally passed and though your ankles swell like balloons after a long day, you feel on top of the world and the pregnancy glow has really kicked it.

“I can’t wait to come home and see her, honey.” Namjoon is emotional again. You can hear it in his voice though he’s trying hard to suppress it. “I miss her already.”

You smile though he can’t see you. “You’re not going to cry at every ultrasound are you, Joonie?”

26 weeks

“That looks good, give me a sip.” Namjoon leans over, sniffing the bottle.

You smack his hand away. “You know you’re not allowed any of this. It’s my glucose tolerance test.”

He whines and pouts adorably. “The doctor won’t know if I have a single sip.”

“But I’ll know.” The pathology nurse laughs as she finishes up with the initial blood test, pressing a bandaid to the crook of your elbow. “There’s a soda machine in the corridor if you want something sweet.”

Namjoon smiles charmingly at her, dimples and all and the pathology nurse looks a little flustered when he walks away with a kiss on your head.

“You’re a lucky girl.” She says to you as she shakes the vial of your blood.

He’s back a moment later, coke can in hand. He shares his audiobook with you and coos when you complain that the sugary drink makes you nauseous. He cradles you like a child when the third blood test makes you extra sore and piggy backs you to the car when you feel a little dizzy at the end of it all.

“I wish I could take some of this for you.” He mutters in the car when he thinks you’ve dozed off on the way home.

31 weeks

You should’ve known better than to read some of the comments online but sometimes curiosity really did kill the cat. Namjoon’s on a cleaning spree of the BTS fancafé and twitter page but even he can’t catch all the malicious things that slip through.

You honestly didn’t think you had gained that much weight but there are several unflattering pictures of you which make cows look like dainty ballerinas by comparison. There’s derision and mocking among his fans and though those comments make you angry, it’s nothing that you hadn’t endured before.

It’s the comments suggesting Namjoon deserved better that really got to you. There’s retweets from a supermodel whom had declared herself an ardent fan and the side by side comparisons were beyond unflattering. There are pictures from the award ceremony he attended last week where he had kindly posed for some selfies with her and they honestly looked like a stunning power couple.

That’s how he found you, curled up in a ball in your bed, trying to hide the tear-swollen eyes in your pillow. He knows instantly what has happened and curls up in bed next to you, drawing you into the cradle of his arms muttering profanities beneath his breath.

“She looks really good with you.” You venture after fifteen minutes of sniffling. “I can’t say I’d blame you if you were attracted to her. I mean, I would be attracted to her too if I were a guy. Why come home to this beached whale when you can have…”

Namjoon hides a smile in your hair, “but you’re my beached whale, carrying my little whale baby…”

You snort and punch him in the ribs, the only space you can find in the tight confines of his arms. “You’re meant to call me a gazelle; you’re meant to tell me that I’m still gorgeous and thin…”

“You’re not a gazelle and you’re certainly not thin but honey, these curves…” his hands stroke over your prominent baby bump and stops to cup you bum, “these curves are something I would kill for.”

The next day you wake to find all the BTS social media accounts suspended. Namjoon refers to this as a time-out for his fans until they can behave like adults.

34 weeks

It’s too early.

Namjoon doesn’t need a medical degree to know this.

He looks at your frightened features in the car next to him and tries his best not to panic but it’s hard when he thinks his baby girl is about to be born too early. He’s a smart man, he’s read not just the basic baby books but also the medical stats about premature birth. He can’t imagine seeing his tiny child being helped to breath by large sterile ventilators and being hooked up to things which feed her when she can’t breastfeed.

He wants to be your calming presence but it’s hard to when his imagination runs riot. All he can do is hold your hand and pray that Yoongi’s aggressive driving skills come to the fore today. You’re crying with the pain of the contractions next to him and when a small whimper escapes your tightly clamped lips, Namjoon feels like he’s been stabbed in the gut. He can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now and can only helplessly drag you into his arms just as Yoongi pulls up to the hospital.

Namjoon’s out of the car in a flash and while Yoongi scrambles around looking for a wheelchair, Namjoon scoops you out of the car and into his arms. He knows the way to the maternity ward like the back of his hand, having secretly drilled himself ever since he heard about how Jimin’s younger brother had been born in the hospital foyer.

His panic must’ve clearly shown on his face as he carries you through the brightly painted double doors of the maternity ward because the two midwives at the desk direct him straight into the nearest birthing room. His hair is stroked and his tears wiped away by a senior looking midwife as a young and entirely too cheerful doctor begins the examination.

He’s speaking but Namjoon can barely hear him through your whimpers of pain. His legs twitch manically up and down and he can’t seem to stop it. He’s alternately numb and panicked until he can hear his baby girl’s heartbeat again and watch the numbers light up the screen of the monitor.

“You’re not dilated, Ms. ___,”says the young doctor with a reassuring smile while he pulled off his gloves, “but we’ll keep you in for a few days of monitoring, if that’s alright with you.”

Namjoon nods frantically.

“Would you like some pain relief?” Namjoon’s head is bobbing desperately.

The morphine makes you sleepy but comfortable and Namjoon is finally relieved enough to leave your room. Yoongi is waiting at the door.

“You look like a bus hit you, dragged you down the road for a few blocks and dumped you in a country ditch.”

Yoongi always did have a way with words but Namjoon acknowledges that he’s cried a lot this pregnancy. More than you have really, if he made the effort to count the occasions.

The rest of the boys arrive twenty minutes later. Hobi has brought enough take-out to feed a small army and the doctors and midwives duck in occasionally to steal a spring roll. You’re too exhausted to eat but you’re keen for Namjoon to re-fuel since he insists on staying with you for the night. They leave an hour later when Jungkook is finished lecturing your baby on how badly behaved she has been tonight.

Namjoon stays throughout your 3 day stay. He cries again when you have another ultrasound just to be safe and beams with absurd amounts of pride when the doctor declares her a very good size for 34 weeks. You want to smack him for that because you’re going to have to push that little monster out through you vagina in a few weeks.

37 weeks

You’re in the emergency department again and you’re sure you recognize the triage nurse. She beams and waves at you even as Namjoon whimpers in pain beside you.

He’s cradling his left arm and his right foot is propped up on Jin’s bouncing leg.

“Will you sit still!” He hisses at Seokjin who only grins and waves at the fans who recognise him from across the waiting room.

“I don’t know how you managed to do this to yourself when you were only putting together the crib. Seriously Joon, you should probably have a doctor check you over while you’re here. This level of clumsiness has got to be some sort of disorder. Maybe there’s medication to fix it.”

You can tell Namjoon doesn’t appreciate the comment but vetoes retorting in favour of whimpering. You reach across him to smack Seokjin but the man has brilliant reflexes after years of dodging Jungkook’s punches.

Namjoon cries when you accidentally bump his arm.

It’s fifty minutes later when he’s had all his x-rays. He’s only got a sprained right ankle but his left shoulder is clearly dislocated. They give him some great drugs to relax him before popping his shoulder back in and Namjoon is talkative and philosophical for the rest of the evening.

You get texts from Jimin throughout this episode. He and Yoongi have finished putting together the crib and you’re secretly glad Namjoon won’t have to do it himself later.

Jin videos the whole of Namjoon’s exposition on the loneliness of palm-trees on deserted islands and puts it on twitter.

It trends worldwide for three days.

41 weeks

Namjoon’s got a new habit these past few weeks.

Since you haven’t gone into labour yet, he’s convinced that he can talk his baby girl out. It’s clearly not working.

Every part of you hurts except for your uterus but you refrain from rolling your eyes as you rest your phone on your abdomen. Namjoon’s on the other end of the line, in his studio working on their comeback album. He wants to do as much as he can before the baby comes and he becomes completely preoccupied.

“Now sweetheart, I know it’s warm and comfortable inside but you really need to come out and meet daddy. We’ve got your room all set up for you for weeks now…”

Taehyung and Jungkook had finished painting it 3 weeks ago after Namjoon had concussed himself on a paint can.

Your wayward child clearly loves her father’s voice because she chooses that moment to give you a whopping kick in the ribs, sending the phone sliding to the floor. You’re reaching to retrieve it when you accidentally wet yourself a little. At least that’s what you think happens until you realise the fluid isn’t stopping and it has now completely soaked through your underwear, your pants, the couch and was now dripping onto the carpet.

“Joon.”

“Yes, honey?” Namjoon happily continues to hum on the other end of the line.

“I think my waters broke.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then another. “I see. Well. I…”

Jimin’s voice comes next. “I’ve got him, ___. Call your midwife, I’m coming to get you.”

The trip to hospital is a blur. By the time Namjoon and the boys reach you, you’re contracting, it’s hard to walk and you fucking hate the world, especially Namjoon. You tell him so several times during the car trip to hospital and you repeatedly tell Jungkook, who’s rubbing your back, what a good little foetus he turned out to be and that his mother would be proud.

It’s quite a scene when you turn up to hospital, seven famous idols in tow but you lose six of them immediately at the door to the maternity ward. Namjoon is beside himself, pacing the floor as you strip to your birthday suit (all clothing is currently your enemy) and suck on the nitrous like it’s a lifeline.

Your world narrows down to one word when the doctor examines you and tells you you’re barely dilated.

“Epidural!”

Namjoon nods frantically and takes to hovering behind the lovely anaesthetist who calmly hands Namjoon the nitrous and suggests he takes a few puffs. He’s completely giggly and spaced out when you get the needle stuck in your back but that’s ok because sweet relief comes shortly after.

The nitrous is confiscated when the midwife returns.

It’s another arduous eight hours. The midwives and the doctors change shift before it’s time to push.

It takes another hour and a half before your baby daughter’s cries ring through the room. Namjoon cries immediately with her. He keeps his hands on her the whole time you’re getting stitched up. When she sneezes, Joon is absurdly upset that he didn’t capture it on camera. When she does it again, he’s ready and a short fifteen second video immediately goes out to family and friends. You’re inundated with calls and messages congratulating you. Namjoon is too beside himself to answer.

He thinks she absurdly adorable and tells everyone who will listen. Yoongi says she looks like an alien shot out of a space cannon. Taehyung is head over heels in love with her instantly and Jungkook holds her like she’s a unstable explosive device. She cries hysterically when Hobi and Jimin pass her between them and moments later lands in Seokjin’s slightly perturbed arms.

She looks at his face and stops crying instantly. She keeps her eyes on his face until she dozes off in his arms. Seokjin absolutely loves it. It becomes his new favourite story to tell. He tells the janitor who comes to empty the bins when they visit again the next day.

1 year later

Namjoon is an obsessively proud father. The BTS twitter account is now inundated with pictures of your smiling daughter who has her father’s dimples. Their selfies together are the stuff of retweetable legend.

Namjoon is already begging for another baby. He wants ten. You said yes…you’ll have two more and he can then find himself another wife.

When she has her first fever and is up all night, grizzly and unsettled, Namjoon holds her and rocks her until she dozes off in fitful starts. She’s up barely an hour later and Namjoon is exhausted and delirious when you suggest calling in reinforcements. Jin arrives at 04:50am, takes her in his arms and coaxes her to sleep across one very wide shoulder. Namjoon snores for the next five hours.

When she takes her first steps, Namjoon commemorates it by writing her a song. She cries endlessly when she first hears it until Jin adds his vocals to the mix. She loves it instantly. Namjoon wants to find this frustrating but can’t deny his daughter anything her little heart desires. Seokjin is it, apparently.

Namjoon is coaxing some lunch into her when you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You pee on that familiar blue stick which started it all nearly two years ago and watch as that double pink line reappears.

[duorpt]

under the cut you’ll find 15 ideas to replace labels in your rp applications. i can’t be the only one who despises this addition to apps when there are so many other, creative ways to sum up your character’s personality! these would also be cute as an addition to the label thing, if you insist on using that, or used as ways to develop your characters. enjoy, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

1. SONGS

lyrics and songs are simply amazing to base characters off -- there are so many elements to pull from, and i’m sure we all have songs we relate to very strongly.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. the song they relate to the most is DANGEROUS WOMAN by ARIANA GRANDE.

2. MOVIE TITLES

a little simpler and sillier than song lyrics, movie titles are a fun way to sum up your character in a familiar phrase. it may require a little more research, though!

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. the movie title that describes them the best is DUDE, WHERE’S MY CAR?

3. FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

of course, a tried and true way to help people understand someone’s personality -- compare them to a well known character who displays similar traits.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. the fictional character they’re most like is HERMIONE GRANGER from HARRY POTTER.

4. CHARACTER STEREOTYPES

i feel like this was the intent with labels, but somewhere along the way this was lost. just take a typical stereotype that you see in fiction and relate your character to it! simpler than a label and no one has to google what it means.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. if they were in a movie, they’d be the DUMB BLONDE.

5. HOGWARTS HOUSES

not just for harry potter rps. even if the person hadn’t seen harry potter, everyone is familiar enough with the general traits of each house to get the idea. plus, doing the quiz is really fun!

google “hogwarts house quiz” for many, many options for quizzes. the pottermore one is the best, but if you can’t be bothered to sign up for an account, there are thousands of other options.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their hogwarts house would be RAVENCLAW.

6. MBTI TYPES

this one is a little more complicated, but it goes into a ton of detail. again, there’s a quiz (linked below) and it takes a little longer than the hogwarts one, but the results may inspire you to add depth to your character.

quiz found here. this site also allows you to look up all the different types if you prefer to do that or want to see what other characters’ type means.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their mbti type is INFJ.

7. ANIMALS/PATRONUS

if your character was an animal, what would they be? would they be timid and cute like a bunny, or ferocious like a lion? just the animals work, but if you want to add an extra nerd level, you could ask what the character’s patronus would be.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. if they were an animal, they’d be a CAT.

or

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their patronus would be a CAT.

8. ZODIAC SIGNS

although zodiac signs are rooted in birthdays, each one has a generally accepted set of traits that goes with it. when making a character, you have the freedom of choosing which sign your character belongs to.

here’s a website to look up what each sign is like. there are many more like this, just google ‘zodiac sign traits’!

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their zodiac sign is ARIES.

9. MORAL ALIGNMENTS

although this started as a d&d thing, it has quickly become widely used to describe many different characters. the quiz might require some thinking, but it’s a good way to quickly identify where your character stands on moral issues.

one quiz here, and one here.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their friends say they’re CHAOTIC NEUTRAL.

10. TV CHARACTER TROPES.

a little bit further than the character stereotypes, this one requires some research but it well worth it. the options are humourous and in some cases, very weirdly specific.

a list of categories here. click on a category your character falls into (for instance, ‘always female’ or ‘rich kids’ could work for a rich girl) and browse for a trope that your character identifies with!

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. if they were on tv, their character trope would be the GENTLE GIANT.

11. DREAM JOB

maybe this is just me, but i can tell a lot about a person from their dream job. maybe not the job they’re going to school for, or maybe not even the one they’re aspiring toward. i’m talking the one they would take even if it paid nothing, or if they could pick anything in the world.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their dream job is to be a INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST.

12. FOUR TEMPERAMENTS

the four temperaments have been around for a while, and it’s a great tool to generalize personalities. the obvious fault, of course, being that there are only four options. but many personalities can fall into the same category!

quiz here.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. when they take the four temperaments test, their result is CHOLERIC.

13. A CHARACTER’S MOST TREASURED ITEM

like the dream job option, a person’s most treasured item is something that displays a lot about who they are. in many ways what is most important to them is integral to their personality and who they are.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. their most treasured item is their CHILDHOOD PHOTO ALBUM.

14. GREEK GODS

in my opinion, you could work this one of two ways. you could have the characters relate themselves to already existing greek gods, like artemis, or you could have them come up with what their character would be the god of if they were one!

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. they are most like the greek goddess APHRODITE.

or

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. if they were a greek god, they’d be the god of PARTYING.

15. CHARACTER TRAITS

and of course, the most obvious replacement for labels -- simply using character traits. more room to explain personality, no competition for fancy words (most of the time) and you can express the positive and negative aspects. even if you hate every other suggestion on this list, this one just makes so much sense.

ex: CHARACTER NAME is AGE years old. they are STUBBORN and DOGMATIC, but also LOYAL and COURAGEOUS.

[apocalypto12related]

Do all of them!

1: is there a boy/girl in your life?

Ye! Sammy! @deziac

2: think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?

Um... My family, probably, and no.

3: what do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”

Kitty! I love kitties!

4: what’s something you really want right now?

an apartment. on a less serious side, um, glasses???

5: are you afraid of falling in love?

Nope! I already have and since we’re poly im sure i will again owo

6: do you like the beach?

so/so. depends on my mood.

7: have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?

um... a pull out sofa, does that count? i have a hard time sleeping unless i can fully lie down.

8: what’s the background on your cell?

my old phone was tony my new phone is space. not sure what it’ll be soon. >w>;; considering i need to redownload all the stuff i got off tumblr. :’( i lost all my snapchat stuff, but i moved all of izaya to my computer so that’s fine.

9: name the last four beds you were sat on?

what??? O_o; um... a homeless shelter’s bed and other than that they were all my own??? (not counting the “bed” made of sheets at the one place.)

10: do you like your phone?

i just got a new one!! uwu It has 32GB with it’s own internal storage and I have a 32GB sd card. nwn;; So I have a lot of space~! plus it has a fingerprint sensor and im in love with unlocking it like that owo

11: honestly, are things going the way you planned?

prolly not, but when do they?

12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?

sammy! bc we both got new phhones!

13: would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?

i heard poodles have bad temperaments!! idk about rottweilers!! whichever one is nicer??/

14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?

emotional!! physical heals!! short time span for pain! emotional might not go away!

15: would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?

DONt mmake me chosoelk??! i love both!!! i lovemy fluffy butts and i went to the met in new york!!! it was so cool!!! swords!! armor!! egypt!! aahhhh!!! i cant choose!!

16: are you tired?

im always tired!!!

17: how long have you known your 1st phone contact?

um... well it’s sammy

so uh, ten years in march owo (technically december was the first time we met!! but we count it as march since that’s when he started talking rly)

18: are they a relative?

no!!

19: would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?

it depends on if they changed their personality!! if not then no!! i mean i did get back with sammy but yknow we just count that as a break since we did actually get back together lmao

20: when did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?

this morning!! she is at work so she’s not too talkative rn!

21: if you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?

we’re fine with what we’re at!! i don’t need to marry her to make it ‘official’!! we’ve lasted almost 9 years and through some big hardships!! both of us unmedicated and dealing with new medication changes, so i think we’re fine!!

22: would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

of course!! :P

23: how many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?

two!! my blue sylveon bracelet (i love sylveon, i would wear umbreon but i think i packed it!!!) and my pride rainbow bracelet! i took them off when we were looking for a shelter bc i was scared we’d get denied if they saw obvious gay signs :(

24: is there a certain quote you live by?

not directly!! something along the lines of that there is no set path in life you have to choose which ways you want to twist and turn and they’ll lead you onto new and bigger things.

25: what’s on your mind?

music! stuff for my phone! i have a lot of stuff i need to add to eeet!! it’s only a day oolllddd.

26: do you have any tattoos?

yes! it’s for my kitty who passed away! Her name was luna. I’m sure i’ve posted a picture somewhere.

27: what is your favorite color?

#00C5FF

28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?

prolly tonight. owo

29: who are you texting?

Sammy owo

30: think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?

probably?? lol what.

31: have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?

YES ACTUALLY D: idk if it happened any other time, but when we got into the car accident when I told our one friend we were joking about her coming up and hanging with us all my brain said was ‘You shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that.’ and again when we went out to the car and it was pretty heavy snow fall. I was like ‘I shouldn’t go.’ my problem with that one was I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t think ‘we shouldn’t go’. but... what can you do now?

32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?

um. i don’t think i have a super close opposite sex friend. closest would probably be @h0bsyrup

33: do you think anyone has feelings for you?

I’m sure Sammy does. >w> I’m not sure otherwise. My followers don’t tell me that stuff.

34: has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?

Yes omg. Sammy was staring me in the eyes the other day and was like ‘your eyes are pretty’ and i’m like ‘omfg shut up >//

35: say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?

if they’re not dating then she’s gonna punch their lights out, so i don’t have to worry.

36: were you single on valentines day?

November 24th, 2008 is when I started dating Sammy. You tell me.

37: are you friends with the last person you kissed?

... of course?? wtf is with these kiss questions.

38: what do your friends call you?

Kiki :D

39: has anyone upset you in the last week?

lil bit.

40: have you ever cried over a text?

Um... probably. I can’t remember.

41: where’s your last bruise located?

omg... um i guess undermy belly button is the latest bruise??? i have a lot atm from surgery and being motionless for four days!!

42: what is it from?

Sammy actually like harshly pushed on that area. like when you go to land somewhere with your full weight then you go ‘oh fuck’ yeah.

43: last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?

um... recently??? but i guess not as bad as with my mom.

44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?

Sammy owo

45: do you have a favourite pair of shoes?

Nah.

46: do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?

No.my hair style is like 99% bun.

47: would you ever go bald if it was the style?

i dont follow trends i set them.

48: do you make supper for your family?

not recently but i would for sammy and i usually

49: does your bedroom have a door?

i don’t have a “bedroom” atm e.e

50: top 3 web-pages?

tambo.c0m (tumblr), archiveofourown.org (ao3), youtube.com (the three i use the most anyway)

51: do you know anyone who hates shopping?

Sammy. xD at least food shopping.

52: does anything on your body hurt?

Abdomen. (:

53: are goodbyes hard for you?

it depends. if it’s unnecessary then prolly. if they’ve fucked me over idc. (i.e. my family trying to replace my mom’s abusiveness, fuck them.)

54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?

prolly water owo

55: how is your hair?

it’s feeling fine, thank you for asking!

56: what do you usually do first in the morning?

it depends! if it’s my “morning” i wake up and usually bathroom.

57: do you think two people can last forever?

sure but it takes work. it’s not gonna be perfect 24/7 without communication or compromise.

58: think back to january 2007, were you single?

ye. omfg why would you give me nightmares. that’s when i started the rping side of myspce and met that douche wesley. his lying ass made me start self harming. fuck him.

59: green or purple grapes?

i don’t eat grapes .w.;;

60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?

sometime in the future! prolly sammy!

61: do you wish you were somewhere else right now?

in an apartment. >w> or at the pompeii exhibit!!!

62: when will be the next time you text someone?

possibly today

63: where will you be 5 hours from now?

lying in bed. :D

64: what were you doing at 8 this morning.

struggling to be alive. (eating chocolate chip muffins)

65: this time last year, can you remember who you liked?

oh god. w8 no. i didn’t like anyone yet. that started like october or shit. ugh my ex. he became an ass. (aside from sammy obvs)

66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?

sammy!!

67: did you kiss or hug anyone today?

um... i don’t think so. i think we were both too tired and stressed. we didn’t get into bed until like 1 and the shelter has us be out of beds by 8:30 x3x;

68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

um... ‘i should go back to sleep’ after waking up a third time and distracting myself with the phone

69: have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

yeah,but at least i tried.

70: how many windows are open on your computer?

it’s not *my* computer, so it doesn’t count! ;D (8 but im downloading music stfu)

71: how many fingers do you have?

i have 10. my one pinky counts as a half finger sometimes though. i broke it and bc i didnt have insurance i never went to a doctor to get it fully take care of so it healed up all wrong.

72: what is your ringtone?

default at the moment!

73: how old will you be in 5 months?

oh fuck i’ll be 24. man if you asked me that back in june i’d be like ‘still 23 (;’ but no. my bday is december

74: where is your mum right now?

She passed away. :/

75: why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?

I realize that as much as I wanted to believe it was love, it never fully blossomed into that until I was with Sammy. I don’t think I’ve truly ever gotten to love anyone else, but that’s okay.

76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?

of course owo sammy and i are hella gay don’t u know.

77: are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?

i believe so owo we just don’t talk as much bc im a lazy sack of shit.

78: do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?

fuck. i think i had a minor crush on some dude who also liked green day but never fuckin talked to me so i never bothered. that might’ve also technically been when i started liking wesley. does billie joe from green day count?

79: is there anyone you know with the name mike?

personally? uh.... i’m not totally sure o-o; fuck me man.

80: have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?

probably wait yes. sammy. spooning is our fave position.

81: how many people have you liked in the past three months?

e.e no one that wasn’t a celebrity. 

82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?

no bc shelter e.e

83: will you talk to the person you like tonight?

:P i talk to them everyday.

84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?

i wouldn’t get drunk! i wouldn’t scream at ppl! that’s rude! ppl usually can’t even hear you when you yell at the window! we hear ‘whoosh’ with your voice in the middle’

85: if your bf/gf was into drugs would you care?

i would be concerned since she’s said she doesn’t like them!!

86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?

um... oh! a conversation started and a lil girl asked if we were in a certain theatre and I said ‘no we were in theatre blah’ so I asked what they went and saw. She said “Wonder Woman” “hey we just came out of that, too!” :P

87: who was your last received call from?

.3.; sammy

88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?

i-i’m torn??? i needm oney but poor butter-san... ;____;

89: what is something you wish you had more of?

money. clothes maybe

90: have you ever trusted someone too much?

yeah. lmao.

91: do you sleep with your window open?

i usually do! esp in the winter/summer! need air and love cold!

92: do you get along with girls?

ye!

93: are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?

no. owo

94: does sex mean love?

no! sex is something that can bring someone closer, but it is not necessary for a relationship! 

95: you’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?

>3>;;; again, no.

96: have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?

owo; indirectly. i shared a drink with someone who had one. xD

97: did you sleep alone this week?

not this week! :D last week. ;~; at the hospital.

98: everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?

yes. >3>

99: do you believe in love at first sight?

no!!! that’s not love!! you might end up loving them but you can’t love someone unless you know them!! :c otherwise it’ll lead to some bad decisions!! D:

100: who was the last person that you pinky promise?

OwO Sammy I think.

[spectrumscribe]

So adding to the list of things I wanted to get my name on, I’m slapping my name on this AU before anyone else to my knowledge at least and releasing my spin on

The 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles characters set as Voltron Paladins (and co.)

(long post, sorry about that.)

-----

First is the most obvious selection, Donnie. 

He’s the Green Paladin, an easy choice. Intuitive, creative, and curious, can and will engineer/build his way out of any situation, and also glasses. He’s the most like Pidge in personality, and his character also lines up easily to be her parallel. And since I don’t have to justify my reasoning behind his placement, I’ll give a quick tid-bit on his part in the story-

In the AU, he’s a trans male character, and has gone undercover as a woman in the garrison after getting himself banned from the premises. Much like Pidge did by pretending to be a boy. Basically he plays all of Pidge’s role in things, but with a side of getting crushes on aliens and being unsure of what to do with that. cue drama

-----

Second selection, Raph. 

He’s set as the Yellow Paladin in my version of the AU, despite the fact that most people in the fandom would assign him to Red right off the bat. My reasoning behind it is that he’s solid, steady, dependable when needed, and won't move period, even if you push him. Plus, him being put into the heavy tank like lion will force him to better think his moves in battle, and suits his role as the heaviest hitter on the team.

He’s not as quick to anger as most people portray him, either. His temper is fearsome yes, but he doesn’t get angry without good reason majority of times. Usually, its because someone or something has pushed him there that he snaps. Further point for not putting him as the Red Paladin, he’s got a firm control of how he expresses his anger. Red wouldn’t have much impulsiveness to work with there. And that leads me to the next choice.

-----

Third selection, Mikey.

Another twist for most fans I think, I’m placing him in the AU as the Red Paladin. My reasons behind that is because of how I view his character in 2012. He’s more than a bit brash, definitely impulsive, very quick to react to the situation, and has 0 to 60 emotion. He's deadly af, but uses it recklessly so it's not as effective as it could be, much like Kieth. Over all, the Red Lion’s method of fighting (charge in head first and just go for it) matches best with Mikey’s method of fighting, and temperament in general.

He’s also the most likely to pull a Keith, and bugger off into the unknown without telling anyone where he is. He’s done it before, with Dimension-X and all that. It’s not hard to see him being the rebellious youngest brother, and hiding out in the desert on his own. (and without telling any of his siblings he was alright, either. for shame.)

-----

Fourth selection, Leo.

I’m realizing that basically all my choices are plot twists for everyone except me. Point being, I’m assigning Leo to the Blue Paladin role for the AU. He’s good with morale, relatively level-headed in a fight majority of the time at least, and already holds place as the sharp-shooter in TMNT canon anyways. It’s a better fit than being the Black Paladin would be, in my opinion, because while Leo displays some qualities for leadership, he’s not always the completely even-tempered influence he tries to portray. 

He’s impulsive and vain at times, and often fails to use his team members’ full potential. His foresight is short sighted, though that could likely be remedied with better training. He still makes an excellent second in command though, and a good fall back leader when their actual one is out of commission.

-----

Which brings me to the final pick. I’m sure you’re all wondering at this point “But there’s only four brothers, who fills the fifth Lion position?” 

See, I wondered that too for a long while, until it came to me:

They have a sister.

Fifth selection, Karai.

She’s the Black Paladin for a number of reasons. In TMNT canon, she was groomed her whole life to step into the role of a leader, and was trained subsequently. Her prowess in battle is notable for both planning and adaptability, and not to mention, she has unrelenting perseverance towards her goals. Summarized: she's a leader, she's calm in a fight, she's got a plan and will follow it, and has indomitable spirit. Karai’s overall tenacity, determination, and leadership abilities make her an excellent Black Paladin, and a good fit for the leader of Voltron.

Plus, she’s got two toned hair, an under-cut, eyeliner on fleek, and was forced to undergo unwanted changes to her body by the series’ Big Bad. She and Shiro would probably have a lot to talk about together.

-----

That being said, the other characters fall into place relatively easily:

April is the last princess (soon to be queen) of Altea, fresh from hyper-sleep. And, she’s accompanied by her adviser, mechanic, closest companion and general repair-man, Casey. (there’s a lot of requirements for a common born soul to make it into the palace, and Casey some how managed to meet them all. Some how.)

April having the ability to grow to seven plus feet tall excites me as much as the drama of Donnie’s crush on her. Similarly how Casey’s jury-rigging to keep the castle airborne excites me. who let this boy even near the controls, honestly

Splinter is the missing father, (Hamato Yoshi in this AU), lost somewhere in space, and is the parent to all five Paladins. Said five paladins are all siblings, though Karai is the only biological child of Yoshi. Adoption or something more mysterious idk yet was involved in the boys’ heritage/addition to the Hamato family.

Similarly lost with Yoshi is Shini (nickname of her nickname, Shinigami), placed in the role of Matt in the AU. She also happens to be Karai’s sort of un-voiced major crush and best friend. the arena scene will be fun to write for those two, i’m hype for it

And Shredder obviously plays the role of Zarkon in this AU, with his miscellaneous lackies spread throughout in general villain roles. The Foot Clan = The Galra Empire basically.

Other characters of TMNT yet to be assigned, but are definitely around. Somewhere.

-----

Long post, apologies, but I figured I’d give a sort of quick once over of my version of things before other people did. Also: fanfiction. By me. It will be happening soon. It’s too tempting to not.

[anghraine]

“per ardua ad astra” - chapter six

I’m so glad everyone is reading this for domesticity, emotional ineptitude, and EU-ignoring headcanons.

last chapter:

He probably wasn’t used to people sticking around, either. For the Rebellion, sure. But she hadn’t saved him for the Rebellion. She saved him because she didn’t want him to die.

On some unclear instinct, Jyn smiled back, still more cautiously. “I haven’t got us this far for you to fall apart on me now.”

this chapter:

Welcome home flashed into her mind, her memories flung from that dimly-remembered apartment in Coruscant to the Rebel base on Yavin. Maybe he meant the Rebellion, but she hadn’t. It wasn’t the Rebellion who stuck by her at Jedha. It sure as hell wasn’t at Eadu. It wasn’t the Rebellion who marched at her side after the snarling fight on the ship. Or ever.

chapters: one, two, three, four, five

Ten minutes after swallowing the sedatives, Cassian still peppered Jyn with questions. He wanted to know every word she spoke to the quartermaster, the doctor, the NCOs in the mess hall. He wanted every name she’d heard, no matter how trivial. He wanted every detail she’d manufactured about Isidar Lyr, every hint of a hint from Bodhi. He wanted directions to everything she’d seen, her estimates of distances and descriptions of architecture.

In any other circumstance, Jyn would have told him where he could stuff his questions. But he needed to know, if not all of it at this exact moment.

“Do sedatives not work on you?” she finally demanded. She could almost believe he’d built up some sort of resistance. Maybe Draven just dosed his people until they turned immune or dropped dead.

“They’ll work,” Cassian replied, with the slight lilt she was starting to recognize as amusement. “Eventually.”

Jyn rolled her eyes and flopped back on her bed, one knee propped up. After everything, there was an odd relief in annoyance.

“My turn,” she said.

“I have been unconscious for almost two days,” said Cassian. “I know nothing you have not told me.”

His voice steadied as he spoke, flattened into his usual sober practicality. Maybe more. Definitely more. Well, he wouldn’t like that, would he? Jyn knew that Cassian trusted her, probably more than any other living person, but it didn’t mean he cared to depend on information from an untrained third party.

He could talk about agents lacking information, and it might be true enough for most of them. But not for Cassian himself. He wasn’t some foot soldier—whatever went for foot soldiers among spies. He had status and authority, when he chose to use them. He’d raised the forces for their mission before Jyn or anyone else had any idea it’d happened, the Alliance leadership knew who he was, and he seemed to know just about everything there was to know about everyone. She didn’t believe for a single moment that he had a habit of depending on others.

Another thing they had in common. Those were racking up, really. At this rate, they’d turn out to be twins separated at birth.

Ugh.

“You know nothing about the Death Star, maybe,” said Jyn. “But I’m curious about Willix. I’ve never seen an identity slice like it. And I’ve seen some good ones.”

“Have you?”

On the point of answering, she scowled. “I didn’t think you hurt your eardrums. I said Willix, not Hallik.”

Cassian didn’t reply, which could mean anything from finally starting to drift off to simmering anger. Jyn chose to take it as compliance.

“I checked his profile,” she went on, “and I don’t know whether to be more impressed or disgusted. Who put that thing together?”

“Disgusted?” said Cassian. “By what?”

Another one of his non-answers. Relevant this time, though, so she let it pass.

“You, or someone—probably multiple someones—went to enormous trouble with Willix,” she told him. “That level of detail … it’s incredibly difficult, and dangerous, too. Easier to get caught that way.”

“Yes,” he said, tone betraying nothing.

“And then you chose Cassein for your secret spy name? Really?” Even lying down, she shook her head. “And I thought Lyr was bad.”

“I did not choose it.” Somehow, his unchanged voice managed to sound slightly offended.

“Well, who did?”

“The Willixes, I assume,” he said.

After one bemused moment, her thoughts adjusted. “He’s real?” That made more sense—the risky accumulation of detail, the easy clearance. “You stole the entire identity of an actual Imperial captain?”

Not as impressive, to be sure. But in another way, more so.

“Mm.” He yawned, and she didn’t know whether to take it as a good sign or misdirection. “The name is common on Alderaan. That we share it is … happy coincidence.”

“You don’t quite share it,” she remarked.

“A dialectical variation.”

Misdirection, Jyn decided. She felt pretty sure that nobody with that many drugs in his system should be able to think the words dialectical variation, much less say them.

Though, common on Alderaan—now that was a distraction. But it kept coming up. Princess Leia of Alderaan, the Rebel spy en route to the Death Star. Her father, the senator from Alderaan who’d founded the Rebellion and actually listened to Jyn’s speech. Cassein Willix, an Alderaanian farmer turned Imperial officer. When she thought about it, she felt as if she saw something out of the corner of her eye, something she should pick up but couldn’t quite make out. Presumably not as happenstance as it seemed, in any case.

She settled for, “Seems odd that the Rebellion would go after some random officer out of Alderaan. It’s as friendly territory as you’ve got, isn’t it?”

Dialectical variation ran through her mind again. Cassian-Cassein. His accent when he dropped into Willix—not much different to her ears, just more pronounced, an easy method for soothing Coruscanti superiority. The way he spoke of Princess Leia, respect and familiarity blended together. He’d weighed in on her appointment, analyzed her strengths and weaknesses, been told when and where she was supposed to be.

“Unless they wanted an Alderaanian,” Jyn said, before he could reply. “Specifically.”

“It was not … essential,” Cassian said. “Preferable, yes.”

“Because of Princess Leia?” asked Jyn. “The Rebellion wanted someone to keep an eye on her?”

“To assist her,” he corrected.

“Right. So they used Willix as her … aide or something?”

Cassian said, “No. An Imperial officer is not an aide to a civilian. But one might occasionally be placed to, ah, protect a senator suspected of Rebel sympathies.”

“Might be?” Pointlessly, she tugged at the grey material loose about her thighs, rubbed the material between her fingers. One of the higher quality fabrics she’d ever worn, really. “If spies whispered in the right ears?”

“Yes.”

If she got out of here, she was burning this uniform. And Cassian’s. But a laugh tickled her throat, too.

“I suppose said spies suggested that an Alderaanian princess might be more likely to lower her guard around an Alderaanian officer,” said Jyn. “Such as, say, Cassein Willix.”

���So I hear,” Cassian replied. “Of course, I was not personally present.”

“Because you had to be Willix.” Despite everything she’d done and lived, her head still swam, a bit. “A Rebel spy, pretending to be an Imperial spy, pretending to protect a different Rebel spy while in fact keeping tabs on her for the Empire, but actually doing it for the Rebellion because she’s invaluable but unreliable. Is that it?”

“Almost,” he said. “The princess’s temperament was a consideration, but we would not expend these resources simply to monitor her. The primary concern was that any transmissions she sent or received would be intercepted. By the nature of her assignment, the Rebellion needed direct contact with her, yet could not risk it. And there were other agents in Imperial City struggling to coordinate under the conditions there.”

Then, she understood.

“You were the Alliance liaison,” said Jyn. “Right there in Imperial City. And that place is a cesspool.”

Cassian replied, “I spent two years there and would be happy never to return.”

“They couldn’t send just anyone, could they?” Not to Coruscant. Otherwise, delivering messages seemed a bit below his pay grade, if he was paid at all. But then, Cassian set loose in Imperial City probably got up to far more trouble than misinformation and passing orders.

She would, anyway.

“Thank you,” said Cassian. He yawned again. This time, she suspected it might be real.

“They needed someone who wouldn’t slip up,” Jyn said, more to herself than him. She thought of the shifting accent again. “Once the Alliance stole Willix, they … what? Looked at their best agents and picked the closest to the real thing they had?”

“More or less.” He definitely sounded sleepy now.

“Let me guess,” she said. “A real Alderaanian wasn’t essential, but preferable. You had the right skills and looks, so you got to be Willix. That must have been a fun conversation.”

“Very exciting,” muttered Cassian. “General Draven said ‘Andor, we need someone to be this Alderaanian farmboy we’ve turned up. You’ll be posted in Coruscant to support Princess Leia.’ And I said, ‘yes, sir.’ ”

That startled a laugh out of her. She had no difficulty whatsoever believing it a precise account, though not one he’d have related in a clearer frame of mind. Most people, of course, grew less careful as they drew near sleep, but she wouldn’t have thought Cassian one of them. She certainly hadn’t noticed anything of the kind back on his ship.

Then again, back on his ship, he hadn’t been twenty minutes into a heavy dose of Imperial soporifics, either.

“Any chance of Willix showing up somewhere and mucking things up?” she asked.

“No,” said Cassian, with utter certainty.

Jyn decided she didn’t want to know.

They fell into gentle silence, the room quiet but for the low hum of electricity and their own breaths. Even Jyn, her nerves well-honed after a life on the run—not to mention two days on the Death Star—found herself relaxing as Cassian’s breaths evened out. She didn’t feel sleepy, just a peculiar sort of peace.

When his head shifted, Jyn looked over at him. “Cassian? Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he said, drowsy but coherent. “At the moment.”

“I need your advice.”

“You?” He opened his eyes and blinked at her. “From me?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “I mean your, er, professional expertise.”

Cassian squinted. “What?”

“In your line of work,” said Jyn, “do you try and pick up as much information as you can, wherever you find it, or focus on getting everything you can from a few good sources?”

“Both,” he replied through a yawn. “If only one is possible, though, a reliable source is worth a hundred gossips.”

She’d been afraid of that.

“Why—”

Unconvincingly, Jyn said, “I was just wondering.”

“Mm.” Even the tired murmur managed to sound skeptical. But the drugs had finally done their work. Cassian closed his eyes, and in another moment, slept.

On the bright side, Cassian slept like the dead. He didn’t snore, or talk in his sleep, or toss and turn.

On the dark side, Cassian slept like the dead. After he’d nearly been dead. The quiet was one thing with both of them alert and attentive, but quite another with Cassian unconscious and silent. Every few minutes, Jyn surrendered to the urge to go over and make sure he still breathed.

Inevitably, he did. If anything, he seemed better: not limp and fragile, not strained and pale. Each time she checked, more colour had crept into his face, more lines smoothed themselves away. He was fine, she told herself. The ribs would hurt, but Esten had pulled him out of danger. Esten and Force knew how much bacta and Jyn, getting him care and getting him out. He’d live. As long as the rest of them, anyway.

Her stomach growled for an hour before Jyn worked herself up to leaving. Even as she headed to the mess hall, her thoughts whirled. Bodhi—she’d not heard a word from him since before she extracted Cassian. It probably didn’t mean anything, except that he had no news, or no solitude. But it might. He might be suffering treatment harsher Saw could ever dream up.

This didn’t help, Jyn told herself sternly. There was no reason to torment herself over things which hadn’t happened, and which she couldn’t affect even if they had. Bodhi possessed more nerve and wits than either of them had given him credit for; he wouldn’t do anything foolish, and he’d at least try to contact her if something went wrong. On their end, she and Cassian were resourceful and resolute. Jyn knew how to survive, one step after the other. Cassian knew how to turn each step towards an end. If a way out of this existed, they’d find it. And if a way out of this didn’t exist, they’d face that when it came.

Nevertheless, Jyn ate as quickly as she could manage in the mess hall. It was only half-full at this hour—tomorrow she’d see what she could do about cultivating people. For now, her own calculations occupied her.

She ran through the cons of the situation, obvious as they were. Trapped in the Death Star. Princess Leia captured and dragged onboard by Imperial Chirrut. Her forthcoming torture. The fact that Imperial Chirrut existed at all. The fact that the best case scenario had all four of them blown to smithereens. The possibility of getting caught and either killed, themselves tortured, or both, at any moment. No method of escape except a ship, which they had no immediate way of acquiring.

Pros, she told herself. Supplies, medicine, and secure quarters—all obtained without suspicion. Bodhi absorbed into the stormtroopers and already picking up valuable information. Cassian able to walk, on the mend, and fully functional intellectually. Jyn no worse for the ordeals of the last three weeks, not to mention the last three days. They had a top-notch shot in Jyn and an honest-to-the-Force sniper in Cassian, and a full case of blasters. If they did manage to fly a ship, they had two pilots, Cassian good and Bodhi excellent.

Could be better. Could be a hell of a lot worse.

Jyn tossed away the tin dishes, stalked back to the quarters as fast as her legs would take her, then checked on Cassian for a seventeenth time. Still asleep, still fine. Crawling into bed, she willed herself to sleep.

After twenty minutes, it worked. She slept like a steel beam, and didn’t wake up until a drawer rattled by her head the next morning.

Someone was muttering, “Toçè an aqqi d’estida i anayà—”

Jyn recognized the voice, however breathless, if not the words. What the …?

“Cassian?” She rubbed her eyes.

A few feet away, he bent down with stray equipment in his hand and clothes draped over his arm. But he was already showered and uniformed. His other hand pressed against his side until he glanced up at her.

“Jyn,” he said civilly, and went back to picking up clutter.

She jolted upright. “What are you doing?”

“Inspection,” said Cassian.

Her heart thudded. “Now?”

“No.” Straightening up, he dropped wrinkled uniforms into a bin she hadn’t noticed. With an unpleasant sucking sound, the floor of the bin vanished and the clothes slid down a chute. The floor slid back into place. “If there is one.”

Whatever amount of sleep she’d gotten, it wasn’t enough. Jyn gave up on de-coding him and said, “Cassian. Use whole sentences and stop straining your ribs.”

Cassian replied, “I think they are better.”

“Sure they are,” said Jyn. “What were you talking about?”

“Imperial bases usually hold regular inspections.” With the kits in his arms, he made his way over to the narrow closet near the door. He set them out in neat lines. “On a base of this size, with this many troops, I do not know. If we do get inspected, though, and are in violation of code, it may raise suspicions.”

Oh. She had no difficulty believing him compulsively neat by nature—his Alliance quarters looked it—but this had seemed excessive and then some. Pragmatism, though, she could respect. Getting up, Jyn turned to him.

“Right,” she said. “At the least, it might draw attention. Fine, but I don’t know regulations and you … stop. I’m going to get dressed and then I’ll do it. Don’t touch my bed.” His was already neat, folded at precise angles. “Actually, don’t touch anything. Just sit.”

She didn’t seriously expect him to sit down. Sure enough, although she took the galaxy’s shortest shower and didn’t even try to figure out her jacket beyond a few buttons, she emerged from the fresher into pristine quarters. All the pairs of requisitioned items had been divided between each side of the room, every one exactly opposite to its brother. The blaster case had disappeared. Nothing but her rumpled bedding interrupted the blocky regularity of the place. It made her want to do something stupid, like carve JYN ERSO WAS HERE into the wall.

Cassian leaned against his dresser, datapad in hand, just as he’d leaned against the terminals in the Rebel council room. A little more stiffly, but all things considered, it seemed a good sign.

“Not much for orders, are you?” she said, and regretted it as soon as she spoke. That had been one of the odder twists of their fight after Eadu—I disobeyed orders! It should have been the pillar of his defense, the fact that he had defied the command she accused him of following. But even with every observation warped by rage, she couldn’t misunderstand the horror in his voice. Not at the Alliance, not Draven, not even Krennic, but at himself for balking at a pointless murder.

That was before, Jyn reminded herself. In the end, he defied all those generals and senators for her, personally shot Krennic. Really, it meant more that he’d done it despite his temperament, not because of it. Yet she felt certain those veins would always run through his character, an underlying inclination towards devotion and obedience.

Not that she didn’t have her own. If something in him never stopped whispering there are rules and you have your orders, something in Jyn never stopped urging her look after yourself, no one else will and just keep running. She knew perfectly well that it’d get louder when not drowned out by overpowering necessity.

If Cassian’s mind followed the same direction as hers, he gave no sign.

“Orders?” he repeated. “It depends on where they come from.”

The moment’s ambivalence passed. Jyn snorted.

“Don’t think about trying to call all the shots just because you outrank me here.”

“I outrank you everywhere,” said Cassian, with a suspect quirk of his mouth.

All right, she might have brought that one on herself.

Absent a good rebuttal, Jyn said, “If you’re going to help me with these, then help. How am I supposed to do the folding thing?” She tugged the blankets and sheets off her bed, and looked at them in some dismay.

Setting down the datapad, Cassian walked over to stand beside her. He snagged one of the blankets in her arms.

Jyn scowled up at him. “That was a question, not an invitation. Actually, go lie down. I can follow instructions, when it’s worth my time.”

“Moving helps with the breathing,” he said. When she looked skeptical, he added, “I will not break. You can do the worst of it.”

“The analgesics would help more,” she grumbled, but went along with it.

Together, they shook out the sheets, and Jyn tucked them around the mattress according to the Empire’s absurd specifications. The pillow had to be precisely centered in its case, equidistant from each end, and the blanket folded six centimeters from its edges. If anyone had told her two weeks ago that she and Cassian Andor would end up making beds in the Death Star—

Somewhere between appalled and bemused, Jyn held up the blanket while Cassian measured out the edges. She could barely see him past the top.

“Here, take this,” he said, holding out the folded edge to her.

Jyn reached for it, even as she did her best to keep the middle held high. “Must have been a pain to do yours by yourself.”

“Yes,” said Cassian. He looked over the blanket at her, and in an instant, the bizarre domesticity of it all just struck her as funny.

“I’ll admit it. I did not foresee this,” Jyn told him.

Though she couldn’t see Cassian’s mouth, his eyes crinkled. “Nor I.”

For some reason, the quiet—which had settled comfortably as they worked—turned heavy once more. Hastily, she said,

“So Willix is supposed to be some farmboy who got picked up by Starfleet and made a career for himself?”

“He was, yes,” said Cassian.

Jyn thought of asking if he’d killed the real Willix, or if someone else had done it. But she supposed it made little difference, in the end. Cassian would have pulled the trigger, even if he hadn’t done it this particular time. And she didn’t exactly have a habit of weeping over Imperial officers. The lower ranks were one thing, and civilians, but the officers—the Krennics—they saw it all. They knew what they did.

“I take it you weren’t actually a farmboy,” she said, because she couldn’t imagine it in a million years. “From—what was it, Seraiah? The place you talked about when you were lying your head off in the elevator.”

“Sareia,” said Cassian, gesturing for her to help fold the blanket down the middle. “No. I come from Vaesda. No farms.”

“We had them,” Jyn said suddenly. “I don’t remember the planet much. But it was green. My parents had a farm. More an experiment than anything for Papa, I think, but Mama liked to make things grow. When we left the house, we’d see fields for miles and miles.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt disconcerted. More than disconcerted. Those scraps of happiness before the Empire ripped it all apart—she never spoke of it. Not ever, to anyone. Yet she’d found herself talking without hesitation, as if there were no barrier between her memory and her voice. As if the walls shut out danger instead of trapping them in it.

They shut out people. The next best thing, she decided, calming as she looked over at Cassian. He didn’t count. Not—of course he counted as a person. Just not a threat.

To her, anyway.

For several moment, Cassian worked in silence. Then he said, “Would you go back?”

No sprang to her tongue, without thought. But she did think.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “It’s not … I wasn’t born there. I’m a natural citizen of Coruscant.” She held the folded middle while Cassian measured the other edge. “You already knew that, I’m sure.”

Too worn or too himself for an explanation, he only said, “Yes.”

“So there’s not much point, with my family gone. But I don’t know.” It was home, for that little while. The only one she ever had, really. Somehow she didn’t imagine that the dim early years under Krennic’s thumb had been anything like a home.

Welcome home flashed into her mind, her memories flung from that dimly-remembered apartment in Coruscant to the Rebel base on Yavin. Maybe he meant the Rebellion, but she hadn’t. It wasn’t the Rebellion who stuck by her at Jedha. It sure as hell wasn’t at Eadu. It wasn’t the Rebellion who marched at her side after the snarling fight on the ship. Or ever.

When she murmured I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad to Cassian, she meant it for him, thanks and explanation and apology rolled up together. As near as she got to any of them. He had to know that. He did know—he’d tilted towards her as she spoke, leaned in to listen and to promise, their steps falling into sync from opposite directions. She never saw him do the same thing with anyone else, not with his soldiers, not Bodhi, not Kay. It wasn’t Captain Andor who told her welcome home.

Jyn still didn’t know exactly what Cassian meant. She wasn’t sure Cassian knew what he meant. But it had something to do with the fact that they stood in the Death Star, Jyn all but twitching with nerves while Cassian concealed what must be agony, and they felt something like safe.

“If we live,” she said, “maybe I’ll go, someday. See if it brings anything back. They get harder to remember—the good things.” She could feel the weight of the crystal in her pocket, even as she took the blanket and carefully laid it down.

“Yes,” said Cassian once again. Jyn thought she heard something rough in his tone—maybe just weariness, maybe more.

“If your people didn’t have any farms,” she said, “I guess Willix’s district would be pretty far off from yours.”

“Three thousand miles away, in a different country,” said Cassian, the harsh edge fading into mere annoyance. Not with her, Jyn suspected. “I never saw it in my life, except pictures.”

“I thought it might be something like that.”

He smiled at her, more easily than usual. “Also, Vaesda was four thousand feet higher.”

“Up in the mountains, huh?” Jyn had little knowledge of Alderaan, beyond the chain of spies spun out from Bail Organa. But she’d heard about the mountains.

Though he didn’t seem offended, he only said, “Pull the blanket towards the foot. About three inches. Yes, there. And now left—your left.”

Jyn sighed. But she didn’t doubt that any Imperials who passed by would prove at least as obsessive. She tugged and straightened the material, bent the corners into correct shape, and ignored Cassian’s retreating steps.

“There,” she said. “Good?”

When she turned, she saw that he’d returned to his dresser, and now had a nutrient milk in one hand and pills in the other. Green pills—those would be the analgesics, not the sedatives.

Cassian gulped down the medicine and walked back over to examine the bed. He glanced from one end to the other.

“Good.”

“Another trial survived,” said Jyn. “Barely.”

She didn’t want to think of how much he would endure before voluntarily taking Imperial drugs. Maybe he was just being sensible again. But probably not.

“You pull us through again,” Cassian replied, as lightly as he ever said anything. But he looked at her with an even more intense expression than usual, his gaze very steady.

Jyn didn’t say you’re welcome; she didn’t need to. She just nodded, and silence fell again, perhaps the easiest yet.

The quiet only broke when Cassian said abruptly, “The Anduçelos.”

She started. “What?”

“The Anduçelos Mountains,” he said, his voice very even. “Vaesda was up in them, yes.”

He took a drink of the milk, his gaze flicking away. Uncertainty, she’d have thought, in anyone else. Maybe in him, too. It should have punctured the peace—but didn’t. Cassian himself seemed taken aback by his words, as if he hadn’t meant to say them. No more, Jyn thought, than she’d planned to babble about her parents’ farm.

She hazarded, “Those are the ones surrounding Aldera?”

“Yes.” He shifted his weight. Just a little, but even that much was unusual, from him. “They have ilum deposits. At least, in Vaes District they do.”

That focused her attention. Ilum, inert in itself, turned explosive under treatment. Jyn didn’t know the details of the process—she never took after her father that way—but she knew varying amounts of it went into blasters, starship cannons, bombs, just about anything. Saw kept his precious stores sealed up tight, but he showed a cache to her once and told her all about it. He told her, too, that Galen used to experiment with the stuff. Now, she felt sure that had been for the Death Star. There probably wasn’t enough ilum in the galaxy to power this thing. But on the smaller scale, it had incredible power. Ilum mines could level the towns that prospered around them.

“Damn,” said Jyn. “I thought Alderaan didn’t have weapons.”

“It doesn’t,” he said, with a touch of satisfaction. “We are good Imperial citizens. We do not use the ilum, we sell it.”

And funnelled it to the Rebellion, no doubt.

“What is it like? I mean, Vaesda,” she asked, trying to replicate his pronunciation. “Not ilum. I know what that’s like.”

“I am sure you do,” said Cassian dryly. “It was … I do not remember very much. I was very young. I remember the nyrfa—a sort of cattle that lives up there—and the mines and the cold.” He paused. “Mostly the cold. The snow never went away, and the mining towns were filthy. But it could be beautiful, away from the cities.”

Thinking of the farm, she said, “That usually helps.”

He shrugged. “Your world was green, you said. Mine was white. On bright days, everything shone.”

“Didn’t it blind you?” Jyn asked.

“Yes,” he replied, an unfamiliar animation lighting up his face. “My sister and I had goggles to shield our eyes, but only hers worked right. She was older and always climbing something, so she kept the good set, and I would take mine off. That was why I missed rocks and sticks in our way, and Rana when she jumped down behind me, and the clonetroopers.” Before Jyn could do much more than register that one of these was very unlike the others, Cassian said quickly, “Your jacket is wrong.”

“What?” A clumsy detour, but of course, the jacket was wrong. She’d only bothered with a few buttons, since it never hung right, in any case. “Oh, these ones are too small. I don’t know why, I gave them the measurements—”

“The pleats,” he said, and reached for her shoulders.

She stiffened. Though Cassian must have noticed, he pretended not to, just caught his fingers under the awkward folds of material and adjusted something, then tugged a little. The whole thing immediately loosened—still not exactly smooth, but at least not tight.

“That’s better,” admitted Jyn. “I suppose I should have guessed that even Imperial jackets have procedures.”

“Yes. They do, that is.” With an odd twist to his mouth, he added, “Also, the buttons go behind the flaps, not through … and …”

“Oh, fine. You fix it.” She unbuttoned the jacket all the way and unbelted it, rather amused that his gaze swung up to her face at the first button, and fixed there, despite the layer of (regulation!) undershirt beneath the jacket. Though, for a fully dressed woman, she herself felt exposed in some odd way.

Cassian looked profoundly uncomfortable, but without further hesitation, pulled one side of the jacket to her shoulder, and held the material taut. He didn’t try anything, of course, touch her in any way that the requisitions droids hadn’t, but Jyn nonetheless felt blood rise to her face. Cassian wasn’t a droid. And he could be—unsettling, even as he said in a dispassionate voice,

“It has to be completely smooth, no wrinkles, or the jacket will not hang correctly.” He pulled the other flap over, fastening it. “Here, you button from beneath, only through the one layer. The top one must lie flat.”

As he buttoned the jacket to her waist, Jyn glanced down, pretending to something like detachment as she watched Cassian’s fingers move down her body. Even trivial mistakes could be dangerous, she reminded herself. If anyone had paid attention to the jacket, it might well have been as disastrous as recognition. That was all.

Anyway, he had broken ribs.

Jyn cleared her throat. “I suppose I had better go down to the mess hall and”—her lip curled—“make friends. Is this supposed to be that loose?”

“You fold at the waist,” said Cassian, reaching down to tuck down pleats she hadn’t noticed while Jyn lifted her arms and thought virtuous thoughts. “It is stiff enough to hold, so the belt does the rest.”

Thankfully—for a certain value of thanks—he stepped back, and Jyn buckled the belt herself. He didn’t correct her, so she supposed she did it right.

“Am I a proper Imperial now?” she asked.

“You look like it,” said Cassian.

He could split too many hairs, but she’d take this one. Jyn smiled, a little unsteadily.

“Jyn.”

When his hand touched her shoulder again, she nearly jumped. Instead, she just returned his gaze, while Cassian searched her face for—something.

Quietly, he said, “Be careful.”

She nodded. “I should be back in about an hour. Don’t assume I’m dead unless it’s three, and you haven’t heard from me. Get some rest.”

As she ducked out of their quarters, into the hall, she glanced back over her shoulder. Cassian hadn’t moved, just stood there by his bed, frowning after her.

“Don’t worry, captain.” Jyn allowed herself a smile, slight but genuine. “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.”