#an older post of mine on this topic is getting notes again and the replies are not promising

[thefanficmonster]

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

                                                             *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

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[silvysartfulness]

Omg I saw that you used to write for the assassin’s creed fandom and honestly what a throwback 😭 are they on livejournal?

Aahhh, this is the part where I have to admit, I don't think I ever put any of those drabbles online! It was more a fun thing me and wife used to do, writing very very short 5 minute one-shots based on single word-prompts.

Oh, wait! Apparently I actually still have them, in an old folder of mine! Will post under a cut. These are AC 1-3-brotherhood, primarily focused on the latter.

La Volpe/Cesare post the fall of the Borgia was my main rarepair ship in that fandom, so that's the main (if occasionally only implied) focus for a lot of these. (CW some dubcon/non-con under the cut, so be warned.) 😊

1 Unwillingness

It goes against everything he is, a greater challenge than any battlefield taken on. Snarling, eyes blazing his defiance, Cesare submits for now.

2 Memento

”Something to remember me by,” murmurs Volpe softly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and it's all Cesare can do not to yelp as those vicious teeth leave a bleeding gash in his ear.

3 Baseline

He still doesn't trust Machiavelli, Volpe muses, and it's equally clear Machiavelli doesn't trust him. Perhaps their shared love of secrecy is the one dependent thing about their relationship.

4 Sniper

He has shot guards from rooftops, towers, horseback, beams and the treacherous crumbling tops of ancient stone pillars. So why was it, muses Ezio afterward, that he hadn't even thought of pulling crossbow or gun out as his sworn enemies held their short council in the courtyard a few measly yards below his feet?

5 Birthplace

It is in Masyaf the order of Assassins was born into what it is now. Searching for answers Ezio sets out on the longest journey of his life, back to the beginning of all.

6 Denunciation

It is hard to remember what it was like to have faith, Cesare thinks, but easy to remember when it was lost. What God could ever work through the instrument that was Alexander VI, his father?

7 Distaste

”Volpe, you didn't!” Ezio exclaims, his face a mask of distaste. Volpe smirks.

”Oh, it was not at all bad. Cesare is well trained.”

Ezio shudders. ”That is exactly what bothers me!”

8 Elimination

Constantly, frustratingly one step behind, it is little Cesare can do as his allies are meticulously taken out by the Assassins one by one. And yet it is not until the last of those on his side willingly turn their backs on him that he realizes this battle is lost.

9 Bluntness

”You can do as I say,” says the master thief matter-of-factly, turning the vial of antidote over in his spindly fingers, ”or you can spend the night dying slowly while vomiting your innards all over the floor. The choice is yours.”

Pale with fury Cesare chooses to live.

10 Turf

The Assassins had been myth, legend, bed-time stories to frighten a young boy already afraid of the dark. But as they dealt an all but deadly blow to his father inside the Vatican itself, Cesare grimly declares war. Roma is his city, and all who oppose his rule must be swiftly and mercilessly dealt with.

11 Assassination

He burns for the ideals, fights the fight with passion and utter devotion. But when Shaun's shaking hands lower the suddenly impossibly heavy gun he knows something he'dnever even thought about (Innocence? Compassion? Humanity?) has perished as surely as that very first body at his feet.

12 Apprentice

He remembers a gangly youth skidding across slippery roof tiles, trying so hard to keep up and even harder to hide his inability to do so. La Volpe silently studies Il Mentore and considers he's no longer sure who would lead the way across the rooftops.

13 Debris

Ezio swears as the ceiling collapses over the bed he shared with Caterina until moments ago – his armor and weapons are buried in the rubble and will be hard to replace. He does not yet know they will be the least of his losses this day.

14 Scolding

Altaïr has never been one to accept blame or criticism for his actions, but something about the way Malik's not-there left arm twitches as to shake a not-there fist in his face as the man speaks makes him look away in hidden shame.

15 Torrent

The rain pours down over the city, making roofs and cobblestones alike wet and slippery. Volpe tugs his collar tighter around his shoulders against the biting cold and idly contemplates if a trip to the Castello would be worth the trouble.

16 Anchor

He cheats and steals and tells honeyed lies with the ease of a snake. But his eyes can be oceans and his touch velvet – sometimes Ezio wonders if his always restless, inspiration-ridden friend keeps Salai around just to remember what it's like to be human.

17 Truce

”It would be nice,” says Machiavelli evenly, ”if you would not so readily name yourself judge, jury and executioner the next time you fall victim to unfounded suspicion.”

”Fine,” mutters Volpe, frowning. ”It would be niceif you were not so secretive. And stop trying to steal my spies. Get your own.”

”Fine,” Machiavelli replies with a minute smirk.

Fellowship is knowing just when your brother-in-arms is lying.

18 Nook

There are many unknown and unseen hiding places among the rooftops of Florence. On his back, hair plastered against his face and hot breath against his ear, Giovanni concludes it's very handy that La Volpe always knows to find one when you need it.

19 Orgy

These parties are more to his father's tastes than his his, Cesare firmly tells himself, perhaps letting his eyes linger thoughtfully on the multitude of courtesans a moment longer than intended. Then a familiar slender hand grazes his thigh and he is reminded that the only person even close to matching his own schemes, cunning and skill is the woman on the throne next to his.

20 Scoff

”I spend all my time in the Animus,” Desmond frowns, ”Lucy's keeping an eye on Abstergo and Rebecca... hacks and stuff. What do youdo, really? Anyone could use, what, Google and Wikipedia?”

Shaun grins or at least bares his teeth.

”You mean Templar Central One and Two? No, it's called obtaining knowledge, Desmond - sifted like little gold nuggets of fact from the vast sands of ignorance you're so fond of burying your head in. Google can't help you there, I'm afraid.”

21 Scolding

At the time, Ezio always figured Giovanni's constant nagging and pleading with him to stay out of trouble was only the worrying of an overprotective father. Only later was he taught discretion was part of the ancient Assassin's creed. He never got very good at it, even so.

22 Bonfire

No-one is entirely sure why Julius II has tempered justice with mercy for now and opted for his enemy's imprisonment rather than death sentence. As far as la Volpe is concerned, the way Cesare goes pale whenever the topic is brought up is at least good for entertainment.

23 Nakedness

Being exposed holds no particular shame for him, but the walls and floor are freezing to the touch, draining precious warmth from his aching body. Now would be a prudent time for an accursed thief to show up with a blanket to bargain for.

24 Arbiter

It was funny, Machiavelli drily noted in his notebook, how God and Divine Justice so often were on the side of the biggest army with the sharpest swords.

25 Purgatory

The land burns, smoke choking the sky and tinting the sun a sickly shade of blood. It is with a cold and unfamiliar sense of foreboding Cesare hurries through the flames toward the towering walls of the fortress to escape this hell on earth – one way or another.

26 Fingernail

Ezio has more than his fair share of scars adorning his hardened body, some remembered more fondly than others. He would never dream to ask Caterina to trim her nails, or use them just a touch more carefully.

27 Slavery

The Creed dictates freedom of thought, and in his reckless youth Altaïr would use it as justification for any rash impulse. But the older he grows, the more he comes to realize freedom and all its crushing responsibility can be the harshest master of all.

28 Carnivore

When confronted on his nasty habit of biting, Volpe only grins and quips something about foxes and their nature. Cesare is tempted to snap he's often seen dirty foxes prowling the back streets for garbage, but can see where Volpe would go with that, and so holds his tongue.

29 Bluntness

Ezio is too flustered after his mother's blunt request he find other outlets than vaginas to realize the enthusiastic young artist at his side seems more than eager to offer a few suggestions on the particular subject.

30 Vow

He will live, Cesare vows. He will live, he will regain his freedom, his power and his army. At any cost. And then they will. All. Pay.

31 Blending

It was simply not fair, thought Machiavelli, that no matter how solid your acting, no matter how meticulousyour disguise, Volpe would immediately spot you in a crowd and grin at you. Clearly spying on the sly old fox called for more cunning means, he conceded as he made his way to the Rosa to shamelessly bribe Claudia for information.

32 Misconduct

“Not that we are in any particular hurry to the Castello,” Orsini says, the knuckles of his war-gauntlet quite pleasantly buried in Cesare's face, “but things would just be easier all around if you would stop squirming and came quietly.”

33 Ultimatum

“If you don't stop hogging my mp3-player,” Rebecca whispers softly in Shaun's ear, “I'll tell Lucy exactly whatyou and Desmond used her yoghurts for last night.”

34 Takeover

“Stop!” Lucrezia commands as the soldiers feed the paintings to the fire – already the image of a swan is crackling and fading to black amongst the flames. Such a waste of beauty. She hasn't even realized Cesare is standing behind her, fierce and bloodied after the battle, until he speaks.

“You like them?”

She nods, and he touches her cheek with a smile, careful not to stain her hair.

“Then they are yours. A memento of the day the Assassini fell.”

35 Afterlife

“I blame you for this,” says Cesare flatly as the imps re-heat the lake of boiling tar. Again. “There is no God, you said. No heaven and no hell, you said. Stupid old bastard.”

Rodrigo mutters something about Hell being other people, but will have to concede that in this trifling matter, yes, he was mistaken.

36 Distaste

He would rather be hated than forgotten, Cesare sullenly thinks, rubbing his stiff hands for warmth. Bony, filthy, with the matted long hair of a hermit falling into his face, he has to settle for the guards' contempt. At least it's better than pity.

37 Slavery

He isn't really paid, Leonardo thinks, merely kept alive, yes. Not really compensated as such. And so the construction of the intricate war-machines is really on the consciences of his masters, not his. Sting of guilt quenched he returns to the blueprints with renewed fevered enthusiasm.

38 Probation

“What's the catch”, asks Cesare with deepest suspicion.

“No catch,” Volpe assures, looking innocent. “Just a reward for your recent good behaviour. Keep it up and there may a meal and a hot bath in it for you, too.”

Cesare does not for a moment believe they are just going out 'to stretch their legs', but a meal does sound inviting. He follows.

39 Adversity

Ezio strongly disapproved of the idea of his little sister taking over the Rosa in Fiore, and he frankly can't say whether he is more disappointed or proud when it flourishes under her care.

40 Bluntness

“You are a thief,” Machiavelli growls, piqued into a rare display of anger. “A liar and a cheat and an honourless thief!”

Volpe grins.

“All those things. And I'm still better than you.”

41 Scheming

Ezio gave the Apple to Mario, who had it stolen by Cesare, who gave it to Leonardo, who found it plucked out of his helpless hands by the Pope and his daughter. He ponders life was easier when he was just a painter. The Apple is a thing of awe, but the intrigues in its wake make his head hurt.

42 Favorite

It wasn't that Cesare particularly hated his older brother. It was just that while he no longer childishly sought his father's approval, the position as the Pope's favorite son came with several practical perks. Unfortunately for Juan, that meant he simply had to go.

43 Truce

When things are civilized, they can be bearable, almost even pleasant. The food is good, the wine plentiful, and Volpe's skilled fingers all but gentle. An unspoken truce, no matter how temporary. But neither man ever forgets the truth, which is war.

44 Scour

They answer to no-one, self-proclaimed executioners beyond all law. Too much blood on their hands now. Just before sunrise Cesare gives the command to attack. The cleansing of Monteriggioni has begun.

45 Extrovert

To hold his own council and play his cards close to his heart has always been his way, and he knowshe is a master at his game. And yet, Machiavelli can grudgingly admit to himself, it isn't until the boisterous chaos in human guise that is Ezio bursts in on the Roman scene that he begins to see how they will win this war.

46 Protagonist

“I will avenge the cowardly, treacherous plot against my father,” he thinks. “I will root out all those involved, every single one, and I will kill them and all they stand for.”

No-one ever sets out to be a hero, only to do what is right.

For Cesare, the path ahead is clear.

47 Willpower

It is never easy. Every time Altaïr visits his (his!) bureau in Jerusalem, Malik has to struggle with himself not to slay the man in his sleep. On many a moonlit night, only a lifetime of discipline stays the blade in his white-knuckled hand.

But strangely, it does get easier over time.

48 Esacalation

At first it had been mere proof of his ability to go anywhere in Roma as well he pleased, the taunting and impotent rage in response a given bonus. After some time, forced still-furious intimacy gained through blackmail had appeared a logical step. Then force turned out redundant. As Cesare clings to him, nails biting into his arms and teeth bared with need, Volpe admits to himself he would never have suspected the caged Borgia would so willingly use him to sate his desires – nor the other way around.

49 Torrent

Raw grief fades over time, a broken heart healed into a dull ache. The thing that keeps Claudia from sleeping at night is not all she has lost, but her screaming frustration at not being able to take her fate, and that of those responsible, into her own hands.

50 Danger

The peaceful life he had envisioned just the evening before will have to wait, Ezio grimly decides, pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder and focusing on not falling off his horse. And despite the shock, grief and pain, it somehow feels right. He has lived this life so long, he isn't sure he remembers how not to.

51 Splattering

Leonardo likes to buy birds at the market and set them free, watching with dreaming eyes as they take to the endless sky. Once, Ezio surprises his friend with twenty white doves. Much belatedly he wishes he'd remembered that stressed pigeons prefer to lighten their load before taking off.

52 Ramification

“It is time you take responsibility for your actions,” Rodrigo snarls, and Cesare struggles with the impulse to scream, childishly, “But father, younever did!”

53 Concession

“I'm not sure we should...”

Lover and Thief, silhouettes in the dark, alone. A light touch.

“Come now. It will be good, I promise.”

“But, what if...”

“Ssh. Are we not both Assassins? Everything is permitted.”

His honed thief's nerves tingling with foreboding warnings, La Volpe allows Claudia to persuade him in the end, knowing Ezio will probably kill him, and that it will no doubt be worth it.

54 Leer

You can't even seehis face in the shadows beneath the cowl. And yet, Volpe just standing there outside the bars, nonchalantly leaning one hand against the wall, makes Cesare want to scream. Or punch him hard. Preferably both.

55 Whisper

Ezio reflects that there are few other voices he would instantly recognize by just a short, urgent uttering of his name. His hesitation to turn around stems not from uncertainty, but the childish wish to postpone the trial of his oldest friend's rumored treason just a few moments longer.

56 Absurdity

At first Ezio had felt confused, then worried and finally terrified. But as they've fled Florence and the man introducing himself as uncle Mario tells him that his family belongs to an ancient clan of legendary assassins, relief washes over him. Finally is clear it has all been an insane dream. He can't wait to wake up.

57 Experimentation

Leonardo da Vinci is a true genius, his brilliant mind always seeing the world through a lens of wonder. Nothing escapes his never-sated curiosity – but that a small poseable wooden mannequin could be used like that? Cesare is a man not easily impressed, but will have to admit the artist rarely fails to amaze.

58 Farewell

It is with uncharacteristic kindness Volpe kisses him, between shared gasps for air after their final tryst. A last goodbye before the approaching dawn will see Cesare on his way to exile in Spain.

”Growing sentimental, old fox?” the younger man scoffs at him. ”No need. I shall return soon enough, and repaint the walls of Roma with Assassin blood.”

Volpe just smiles. He has already helped Ezio prepare his own journey and knows with certainty that Cesare will never again return to Rome.

59 Turf

”Maybe Giovanni could get away with doing paperwork all day over in Florence,” Mario says, and his tone clearly states what he thinks about his brother's choice. ”But arround here we train Assassins, not accountants or delivery boys.”

Ezio's body has never ached as much in his life as it does after his first day of training with his uncle.

60 Smoothness

When she smiles her deep red lips are like tantalizing rose petals, framed by sun-ray golden hair. She is smooth, flawless, perfect. But every rose has its thorns, and Lucrezia's are laden with poison.

61 Kneeling

Every fiber of Ezio's body strains desperately to regain control as he jerks like a puppet on golden strings of light.

”You are lucky,” breathes Rodrigo in a low, husky growls, leaning hard on the staff after the battle, ”So verylucky, little Assassin, that I am in a hurry.”

As the dagger sinks into his guts, Ezio briefly thinks that indeed, it could have been so much worse.

62 Purgatory

The imps don't know whether to feel amused or put out that the screaming, flailing argument between father and son has by now escalated to the point they don't even seem to register the lake of boiling tar anymore. A bit of respect for good solid workmanship, is that too much to ask?

63 Lick

It has to be said in favour of Machiavelli's assassin reflexes that the unexpected lick at his ear out of the dark earns Volpe neither a jump or a shriek but a rapid fist to the nose.

Only half an hour later, safely home in his bedroom, does Niccolo allow himself to contemplate what might have otherwise transpired.

64 Bonfire

It is a sad thing, reflects Ezio in hindsight, older, wiser, that compared to all the priceless art and knowledge fed to fire during Savonarola's mad reign of Florence, the mere loss of a human life that ended it is remembered with little sense of loss or revulsion.

65 Last

After Mario's death, Ezio has felt the weight of being the last Auditore Assassin ever heavier on his shoulders. But as he watches Claudia fearlessly take her leap of faith, he wonders how he could ever have been blind enough to think himself alone.

66 Well

The guards in hot pursuit yell and stab at wells, haystacks and dark alleyways. From his perch on a rooftop Ezio smiles. He always did prefer to take to the sky.

67 Wrongdoer

As his support falters and the opposition grows ever bolder, Cesare becomes increasingly frustrated with their attacks and accusations. He would prefer to answer only for his own sins, not those of his dead father.

68 Deliberate

It really is getting unnerving, decides Machiavelli, the way Volpe has taken up the habit of commenting on his every observation with a frosty ”Indeed” or ”Yes, quitethe coincidence”. He wishes he could believe the man isn't doing it on purpose.

69 Counter

When he first arrives in Jerusalem, Altaïr can't quite shake the feeling that the only thing between him and certain death is a rather narrow, map-strewn desk.

70 Bribe

Cesare has always been good at striking a profitable bargain. Unfortunately Borgia as a currency is bitterly deflated, and these days he often have to sell himself too cheap for comfort. Even though it isa warm, snug blanket.

71 Chess

Cesare knows he is a brilliant strategist – not so much because of the expected praise from his subordinates as from the satisfactory number of pins currently adorning his map of Italy. He would like to believe himself modest in this, careful not allow hubris to cheat him of a victory. And yet he never knows whether to frown or laugh helplessly as the absent-minded artist all but appologetically check-mates his king time and time and time again.

72 Feel

Leonardo never knows how to feel when Cesare enters the room. At first he is apprehensive, but as weeks turn into months and he realizes he's not only allowed but encouraged to dream up grander designs than ever before he is thrilled.

In the end, seeing the Assassins' plans put into motion long before Cesare even knows the final battle has begun, he can only avert his eyes in regret.

73 Mister

”Outside the kingdom of God is the realm of men,” Salai says, leaning just an inch too close. ”You worship there, Messere?”

Only years of training his clueless look on Leonardo helps Ezio keep a straight face as he blankly waves for the boy to follow him.

74 Fine

There are simply too many guards around for a discreet kill, so Ezio grudlingly counts the florins and hands them over. How was heto know he wasn't allowed to park his horse there? Time to liberate another stable from its Borgia-tower shadow, he decides. Burning them all down is easier than keeping track of territories anyway.

75 Dog

If La Volpe is the fox and Ezio the bird of prey, Pantasilea ponders, then Bartolomeo reminds her of a large, lumbering dog. Faithful and loyal unto death, but with a booming bark and a vicious bite for those who threaten those dear to him.

76 Forgotten

When Volpe appears he is the first person Cesare has seen in days. He greets the thief with his usual brazen curses, careful not to let any trace of relief shine through. Of all things he is most afraid to be left alone to die; not slain out of hatred or need, but simply ignored and forgotten.

77 Changed

Had Ezio been the kind of man to think upon such things, he might have noticed the Cesare facing him atop the towering walls is not the self-assured young general he met a handful years previous in Roma. Tired-looking and hunched over he looks defeated even before the battle has begun. But Ezio is here for one single purpose alone, and has never been the kind of man to think of such things anyway.

78 Gondola

Antonio assures Leonardo that only from an extensive tour with his private gondola will the artist truly get to know his new home town. As it happens, a rocky two-hour boat ride later, Leonardo still hasn't really seen much of the city. But that's quite alright, as he happily agrees to repeat the endeavour soon again.

79 Casino

It never hurts to try to win Fortuna's favour when gambling is one of your favorite pastimes, Salai knows, but in this particular case divine intervention is quite a bit closer at hand. As long as you have La Volpe's favor, the dice at the Sleeping Fox will never let you down.

80 Soup

The first bowl of watery gruel ends up thrown in the guard's face with enough force to break his nose. The next morning the second splinters against the wall. Nearly a week passes before he forces himself to eat the fifth, to preserve his strength.

Cesare closes his eyes as he quickly raises the bowl to his face to wolf down the hundredth, before the reflection in the dull surface can show him what he has become.

81 Carrot

”Tell you what,” murmurs Volpe in the starving prisoner's ear, dangling the vegetable in front of his face, ”If you give me a good enough show I'll even let you keep it for supper when you're done.”

82 Madame

Volpe has to admit himself impressed – Claudia is shrewd, ruthless and horrifyingly practical, and stillmanages to be praised a good businesswoman rather than cursed a thief.

83 Kilt

Yes, Ezio decides as he flexes his body inside the unfamiliar weight of Romulus' armour, there is definitely a draft around his nether regions. Whatever the old Romans may have thought, a skirt of leather belts does notconstitute proper clothing.

After some swearing and creative arranging of his spare cloak he considers it may well look even moreof a skirt, but at least this cut preserves his manly dignity when he jumps.

84 Theft

He has stolen valuables, information, people and lives. La Volpe draws in a deep breath as he surveys Roma in the first light of morning, then exhales in satisfaction. She is the greatest city in the world, and she is all his for the taking.

[pvrkacciosan]

♤The NEO Chronicles♤

Part 1

Description: The NEO bloodline is said to be decendant from the gods, that is why they rule as royals in a place known as The NEO kingdom.

The bloodline has always tried to stay pure to it's blood heritage but with the next generation growing up and no NEO bloodline females being born, the king and queen turn to drastic measures which eventually landed them with not one, but four NEO female heirs, all who were gifted with abilities of the elements.

Wind, Fire, Earth and Water

But when you tip a scale one way, it always has to dip in the other direction before levelling out again.

this must happen

But at what cost?

SIDE NOTE: This is my first post on Tumblr, I have this book of wattpad as well, I apologise if this is bad...I'm not confident in my writing yet so I was debating if I should even post this but anyway...

《The Calm before the storm》

The feeling of the old book bindings brushed against her finger tips as she looked along the bookshelves for a book that could peak her interest.

Haru huffed as her fingers rap around a spine of a book's leather binding, she let out a sigh of satisfaction at the familiar feeling.

Turning around she walked further back into the vast library, She came across three elegant figure all sat upon long lounge chairs, dressed in smooth flowing dresses, one a misty grey colour, one a deep red, the other ocean blue.

One of the figures look up from her book as Haru continued her way towards them, the girl's light brown hair fell in front of her face. Brushing it back her eyes connected with Haru's.

Haru looked into the ocean blue eyes of her sister Mirae, Mirae gave Haru a kind smile as she tucked another strand of hair behind her ear.

Haru smiled back as she lowered herself down onto her own lounge chair, which was positioned across the room from her sister's, placing a hand of the arm of the chair, her fingers curling into the fabric of the chair.

She leaned back, opening the book a sigh of contentment leaving her lips. The feeling of the pages transported her into the world of green gables, with Anne and Gilbert.

Haru loved how Anne always imagined her self as a princess, oh how Haru wishes she could switch lives with the red headed girl, the book acted as an escape for Haru, it allowed her to escape all the responsibilities and expectations people had given to her as her time as one of the four NEO princesses.

The noise of someone clamping a book shut repels Haru to look up, her sisters Eui and Mirae had also looked up from their books, The oldest, Ara, sat directly across from Haru, she was now sitting up straight with her hands placed on top of a book which vacated the space on her lap.

"I must speak with you all" Ara spoke, she looked up to her sisters as she placed the book on the table which was positioned next to her lounge chair.

Haru closes her book, Mirae following suit also closes over her book, Eui had already done so, Haru watched closely as Eui closed her eyes, upon re-opening them Haru could see the red haze that usually filled them.

This was the only way Eui was able to see, if she used her other eye she could see heat signatures, unlike her three sister Eui had been gifted with fire but not with the gift of sight, and there for was partially blind.

Haru had never really asked her sister what her world looked like through her eyes, but Haru imagined it looked totally different to the one she looked at everyday.

But the fact of her sisters partial blindness was not the important topic right now, Haru looks towards Ara, Haru sits herself up preparing herself for what Ara may say.

The three youngest princesses looked to the oldest, who almost seemed lost for her words. She takes in a breath before she begins to talk.

"the king and queen" Ara said as she paused for a second, the room fell silent, Ara opened her mouth to continue with what she was saying.

"why do you address them like that?" Haru interrupted, Eui and Mirae both look to Haru

Mirae being the youngest looks uncertain of the the outcome to Haru's interruption while Eui held an emotionless expression as she looked at the floor.

"The king and queen" Ara starts again in a more demanding tone.

Haru catches Ara's glares, Haru just glares difinelty back at her, she held her chin up as she kept her gaze on her oldest sister. Haru never did understood Ara's ways.

Haru knew Ara always had trouble with impressing their parents but to go as far as using their royal titles to address them.

"Haru!, are you listening?" Ara spoke up in an attempt to gather up her younger sister's scrambled thoughts.

"what?" Haru stated raising an eyebrow at her older sister.

"I beg your pardon?" Ara quipped an even more annoyed look on her face.

"oh for the good of my sanity" Haru muttered under her breath as Ara continued to stare at her.

"Excuse me, what was that?" Ara spoke up, harshly trying to coax her sister to repeat her words.

"nothing" Haru mumbled as she turned away from Ara, Eui and Mirae both sat in silence, both refusing to make a single sound.

"As I was saying, the King and Queen have made some new arrangements" Ara started again, placing her hand back on her lap, she pulled her shoulders back as she turned towards Haru.

Haru, who refused to make eye contact with any of her three sisters had turned her head away, she looked away, towards a stacks of book waiting to be put away.

Her attention was drawn to the window, outside she could see the clear blue sky, she watched a small cluster of birds swarmed around in a group in the middle of the air moving around gracefully and with formation. They worked together, not against each other.

From where she was sat Haru could feel the light draft coming from the window. Haru's thoughts begin to drift off, like the cloud in the sky,

She reminded herself of all the countless days she would lay outside on the grass in the gardens, with only a loose fitted dress covering her slender body, though she wore the outfit much to her mother's disapproval, she found it far more comfortable than the outfits suited for the torture device know as a corset.

"They have arranged to have the five youngest princes come to fight for your hand"

Those words were like a cold slap to the face. Pulling her from her daydream, Haru whipped her head back around to the three other figures in the spacious room.

Haru scans their faces, Ara holds a hard stare, Mirae looks half confused while Eui has an emotionless expression which indicates she is probably deeply embedded in her thoughts.

"who's hand?, mine?" Haru screeches as she points a finger at her chest for emphasis. Haru sees Mirae look to Ara then to Eui, while the two oldest still have their attention fixated on Haru.

Haru takes a breath in, before she gets her words out Eui brings a hand up to silence her. Calmly Eui turns to the maid who was stationed at the door of the library.

"please could you give us a moment?" she spoke in a soft tone. " of course madam" the maid spoke obediently, she removed herself from the room as asked, the door shutting quietly behind her, closing with a click.

Haru didn't dare say anything until Eui had turned back to face her direction.

"I'M NOT GETTING MARRIED!" Haru yells placing both her hand on the seat next to her on the chair.

"Its not really up for debate, Haru" Ara adds, Eui sent a look in Ara direction.

Haru pushes herself up from her lounge chair, she moves across the room towards the window, she looked out of it, she watched as the gardens were attended by people as they moved around the hedges and great bushes of colourful flowers.

"Its not fair, I didn't get a choice" Haru uttered in a broken tone, she turned back around to face her sisters.

Ara held a stone cold look, while Eui face contorted into one of sympathy.

"we never get a choice we are princesses, choices are not in our royal duties" Ara stated, standing up from her chair to be at level with Haru.

Ara was taller then them all but that did not stop Haru from putting up a fight when one was needed, Ara did not intimidate her.

"Screw royal duties!" Haru exclaimed as she strutted her way towards the doors which exits the library.

"Haru!, don't you dare walk away" Ara commanded to the younger girl, who would not here the voice of reasons right now as she reached out for the brass door handle.

Without even looking over in Ara's direction Haru heaved the big heavy wooden door open.

She didn't even spare a second to close it properly she just let it swing open into the hall, as she thundered her way down, getting as far away from Ara and her problems as she could.

She stormed her way through the hallway, flying past the abundance of painting strung up on the walls, her shoes thudding against the wooden flooring as she walked.

Turning a corner Haru wasn't paying attention as she collided straight into another body.

Both individuals stumbled backwards, she gasped as she looked up, her eye meeting with the other person's.

Haru found herself staring into the familiar eyes of a boy she sees far too often.

"oh hello, Haru, is everything okay?" The boy asked holding a hand out for the girl, who sat sprawled out on the floor in a not so lady-like manner, reaching up she grabbed his hand, as he pulled her up from the floor.

"peachy" Haru replied sarcastically, while smoothing out the folds in her light green dress.

"oh no, Ara told you didn't she?" He questioned

"YOU KNEW?!" Haru all but yelled, the boy in question jumped at her sudden outburst.

Haru had turned to walk away when he leaned forward grabbing onto her elbow.

Haru spun to look back at him , she paused staring down at his hand which gripped her arm, the boy refused to say anything his sudden burst of confidence disappearing.

He may be one of Haru's older brothers, but out of his four sisters Haru was the one he didnt like to mess with.

Ara was always too stuck up in impressing their parents, she was too well behaved all the time, she would always thinks 'what would a queen do'.

Eui the second oldest has a more realistic and fair way of doing things, she always had to hear both sides of a story before deciding on a course of action.

Mirae the youngest out of the four was super caring and sweet, she would never hurt a fly. she was very gentle in everything she does.

Haru on the other hand has never liked to follow the orders she was given, she didn't want to grow up and become queen one day, she wanted to go out into the world and live free of all rule and expectations, her whole life she had been fighting.

Haru did wonder what her life would be like if she wasn't fighting it, she had thought about succumbing to the life she had been given, and she felt there would be a time were she grew too tired to put up a fight, but that day was not today.

"let me go Mark" Haru spoke in a calm voice, the tranquillity in her tone put Mark on edge, Haru very rarely goes from being upset to calm, Mirae often calls it "the calm before the storm"

Mark just calls it "the moment before the volcano erupts" but both phrases work the same way.

" no, come on, I wish to speak with you" Mark said, giving Haru's arm a light tug before walking off.

Next Part》

[pinencurls]

Oh Honey

Hey! here’s the last of my draft one shots! Hope u enjoy and if u don’t remember I wrote this a g e s ago so you can’t blame me !

Italy, bike rides and a sun burnt Harry

3.6k 

These days, we wake in the early hours of the morning. It's hard not to stir when the sun rises so early and bright through the thin cotton drapes strung up over the bedroom window. Sometimes, we stay quiet. Exchanging a few murmurs of good morning wishes and lightly pressed kisses; silently decided to stay in each other's arms until the ungodly hours pass and breakfast is more tempting than bed.

I think it's Wednesday. I got pulled into the warped holiday time effect as soon as we arrived. I was free from jet lag at least, the flight from London to Italy only changing the clocks forwards about an hour. Harry had been less fortunate; the busy winding of work post-tour kept him out in Los Angeles a few more days than planned whilst Sarah, Mitch and I made our way to the holiday home we'd booked in Italy to celebrate a successful first tour. By the time Harry arrived in the white-walled villa tucked away comfortably in a small town - away from prying eyes, he was slow-moving and sleepy, although the afternoon was only just setting in. He'd eagerly drunk the coffees we offered and passed out around 5pm. Harry complained to me the next day that he was still exhausted, his brain and body were working nine hours behind after all-

"You shouldn't have slept on the plane, H." I mumbled, steadying the kettle over the large white mug as I poured hot water into Harry's second coffee of the morning. He'd been vocal about his dissatisfying sleep all of the two hours we'd been awake and my comment was seemingly unhelpful. He confirmed this by burying his face into my neck, head laying heavy on my shoulder, a low groan buzzing against my skin.

It took him a few days before he was fully himself again, but we've been here for a week now and everything's falling easily into long days by the pool and explorations into the cities either side of us. It feels oddly like a family holiday, I've known Sarah long enough; We grew up in the same town a few years apart, both moving away when we hit eighteen to pursue careers in similarly creative industries - music and journalism. We ended up at the same dinner parties and, for a few months before she moved to LA, we shared a shoebox flat in London.

She's the reason I met Harry; I stayed in her overheating LA apartment over the Easter break of 2017. We spent most days sprawled out on her sofa with all the windows thrown open, catching up on everything that'd happened since she moved away. She'd promised I could meet Mitch - a guitarist for the new band she'd started playing with whom she'd been dating for a few months. I'd heard bits and pieces about him as soon as they met, mostly about his brother-like closeness to the singer they played behind, and as promised, the Tuesday afternoon I opened her front door to Mitch, an equally long-haired-Hawaiian-shirt-clad boy followed.

Harry was goofier and unarguably louder, we paired up naturally in the group of four and it wasn't hard to get to know him, or to fall for the infamous charm I'd heard he was known for. To my pleasant surprise, it didn't feel odd when we joined in with Sarah and Mitch's couple-y activities - mini-golf, brunch, movie nights, I tagged along to a few studio sessions too before I had to go home. We promised to keep in touch but I was certain I'd probably never see him again, or at least not in the same way we'd spent the last week but, when he kissed me goodbye at the airport, I had a little hope.

"Hazzaaa!" Mitch calls loudly down the hall - no doubt on a temporary high from his new coffee addiction. There's no point responding, I can hear his footsteps storming towards our door before he swings it open and I can hide my face further into Harry's shoulder, who is unsurprisingly awake now.

"Go away Rodrick." I grumble, smiling at the rumble of laughter my nickname causes to ripple through Harry's chest.

"We've got bikes, Sarah's found a ride that's only a few miles - we're gonna get lunch." I could probably live here with Sarah and Mitch forever, there was only a few years difference between us but sometimes they felt like parents - or older siblings, cooing over me and Harry's relationship. I always felt part of something when we were all together, it wasn't so hard to imagine moving around each other in the same villa for the rest of our lives.

"Give us a sec Mitchy," Harry's waking up now, I roll over as he leans forward to sit, reaching out for the tea Mitch passes him. I hear mine clink down on my bedside table. "When're you leavin?"

"Thirty minutes?" Mitch replies, twisting his wrist to check the time on the ridiculously retro watch Harry had bought for his birthday. "S'already midday."

Harry hums, promising we'll be down in ten before Mitch accepts his mission of recruitment successful and leaves the room. I shift my head at the metal click confirming the door's shut behind him.

"M'gonna stay here," My face is resting in the crook of my arm, eyes closed as I try to cling to the last bit of sleep, "too tired."

The duvet shuffles slightly again with Harry's movements. He rests on his front now, his torso propped up as he leans his face down into my hair. I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to his smiley morning kisses or the smooth scratch when his curls fall over my own.

"It'll be fun," I turn beneath him, settling to listen to his groggy drawl, his accent is always thicker in the mornings, he strokes a wave of hair behind my ear to see my face. "We'll get a nice lunch - Sarah'n'Mitch'll fawn over some street cats, what more could you want?"

"Sleep..." I giggle, his classic pout having the opposite effect as intended. "I'll come next time, promise. Today I just wanna sleep a little more and maybe go for a swim."

He glances down at me for a moment longer, hesitant to accept my excuse before swooping down to press a kiss to my cheek with a hum of approval and bounding out of bed. He tugs a white t-shirt over his head, pulling it down his torso to reveal the smiling bee graphic - "Enjoy Health - Eat Your Honey." He tries to calm his slightly dishevelled curls in the mirror before he goes back to his long morning process of getting ready.

I could spend all day by the pool if nobody stopped me. It's small enough to fit cosily in the garden of the villa and still leave enough patio for lounging chairs and a small table. A row of citrus fruit trees line the fence at the edge of the garden, they offer a little shade over the far end of the pool in the afternoons when the sun reaches its peak. Every now and then a blossom will fall from the larger trees along the patio; the first day we were all together, Sarah, Mitch and I swam for hours until the evening breeze got too cool against our wet skin. Harry had been reading in a chair a few feet off from us and despite our noisy chatter, he'd fallen asleep, no doubt aided by his still slightly backwards body clock. I made my way over to wake him, the breeze must have been stronger than we thought because as I got closer I noticed tiny pink flowers nestled in his hair - they must have blown from the trees and landed on him as he slept. For hours after he trailed behind me inside through the patio doors, I was picking small blossoms from his curls, he was smiley and dopey from jet lag as he kept reaching his hands out to catch mine and pull me into his chest. I'd missed him for the last ten months when he'd been dazzling the world in flares and Gucci suits. I visited and travelled with him for a few show dates, of course, we'd even managed to spend Christmas and our one year anniversary together, but it was different spending so much time apart. Everything was still shiny and new to me when he left for his first solo tour - we'd only been together four months, most of which had been spent in his London house or weekends together in LA. The refreshing familiarity of being together again after so long hadn't quite rubbed off as we lay sprawled over the sofa, blossom abandoned for now.

"What're you thinking about?"

I look up at Harry, he's changed into a grandpa esque pair of brown drawstring cords I don't miss the little bow he's tied. He raises his eyebrows at me inquisitively when I don't answer, smirking slightly as my eyes wander up to his face.

"Nothing," I smile, pausing to yawn, "Just thinking about what 'm gonna do today."

"Sure you don't want to come with us?" He's collecting bits and pieces from around the room - his phone, wallet, sunglasses, but he peaks his head over his shoulder to look at me as he asks.

"Yeah, think I'm just gonna sit outside for a bit, I wanna catch up on a little bit of work."

His eyebrow quirks up slightly, the 'catching up on work' conversation is something we've had tirelessly throughout our fourteen months together. His work was obviously a little more...noticeable. When he was at work it was normally in a studio all day or sat in meetings, sometimes in a different city or country to me. I could work at home more at least; the articles and reviews I wrote almost always required me to spend a few days out of town to research the topic but once I had my notes, I could write from home. This sometimes lent itself to later nights sat up in my small study - work day blurring into the evening. Harry couldn't argue on it though, he did the exact same. His long hours out of the house didn't cancel out the long ones in, Jeff called any hour of the day with 'pressing matters' and even without external pressures, Harry was determined to get everything perfect, even if it meant tweaking new songs on his weekends off. Normally when he was overwhelmed by the workload of album deadlines and promo he was out in LA, where the pre-sleep chatter whilst we both got ready for bed wasn't an option.

"We're on holiday love, you can let some of it slide."

"It's not work-work, I just wanna write a little." I brush the topic away, it didn't need to abet the argument it'd triggered in the past. "Hurry up - Mitch'll run off without you at this rate."

"I wouldn't worry, don't think Mitch has run a day in his life." Harry chuckles, the goofy smile he wore the whole first day we met beaming back at me as he tucks his belongings in his pockets. He leans down to where I'm sat up over the duvet now, kissing me goodbye. "Be back in a bit, don't burn the house down."

"Promise not to - don't fall off your bike." I say as he pulls away. "Love you- now go, I can hear Mitch having a hissy fit from here."

He laughs. Everything's so easy here, it feels as if time has warped slightly and nothing's too hard anymore. The sun's almost at it's strongest now, defying the curtains and falling on Harry as he makes his way to the bedroom door, picking up his pace as Mitch yells up the stairs at him to 'Stop messin with your hair and come down already.'

"Love you!" Harry calls behind him. His heavy footsteps are followed by Sarah's laugh from downstairs and then the door clicks shut and everything's quiet again.

After an hour or so laying by the pool and a nap that might have lasted a little longer than planned, the sun beats a little heavy and I make my way inside. I've written a decent amount - I found myself recalling the last week here, dipping into more personal ground than I would usually. It's not that Harry and I's relationship is a secret anymore, after about eight months people caught on, but we were still private. He'd brush off interviewer questions about relationships and his 'status' and my social media profiles are free from the hundreds of cosy domestic Harry photos I might have posted if he was someone less in the public eye. It's hard sometimes, especially when I can't share a decent chunk of my photography and all the experiences I might have written about. My old film camera is sat on the kitchen counter now, no doubt filled with sweet moments that'll never see the light of day outside of the four people in them.

The fridge was pretty well stocked considering we'd spent a lot of evenings eating out. We'd taken an eventful shopping trip earlier in the week to the massive grocery store in the town thirty minutes down the road. We ended up buying too much fruit and bread and not much else. The trek home hadn't been considered as Harry and Sarah grew more and more excited over the fresh foods they were used to being shipped over and older than ideal, after it all, we ended up on a long single-tiered town bus, tote bags full and tucked safely on our laps. There one photo in particular of Mitchell standing at the bus stop, watermelon in his arms and a bemused expression on his face that I can't wait to see again once I get to the small camera store back home.

After scouring the shelves for a moment longer, I settle on a sandwich. I'm slicing crunchy lettuce on the old wooden board with swirly carvings around the edges when I hear the door open and familiar voices.

I smear a thin layer of mayonnaise over the contents of the bread before cutting two even triangles and wander out to the living room. Mitch and Harry are already lounging over two of the sofas when I get there, Sarah's nowhere to be seen but the sound of the shower running upstairs starts quietly through the house.

"Hey," I call, making my way over to the back of the black sofa Harry's laying over. "How was it?"

Harry peaks one eye open and reaches his hand up towards me-

"Good- what're you eating?" I steer my food away from his prying fingers as he swoops up to tear off a corner.

"Sandwich, didn't you just eat lunch?"

"Yeah but the portions were tiny," Harry whines slightly, reaching up in a second attempt, protesting when I love the bread away from him again. "I'm growing!"

Mitch laughs from the other side of the room. He swings his legs over the side of the sofa and stands up, rubbing his eyes slightly and trogs over to the stairway. "I'm gonna go shower."

"Good idea, you stink mate," Harry smirks cheekily, earning a glare from Mitch before he disappears up the stairs.

"How was it really, H?" I ask before taking another bite of my sandwich.

"S'good, we cycled for ages - it was actually really beautiful. You've gotta come with me sometime before we go home, although we need to find a different cafe- I paid €11 for the smallest burger I've ever seen."

"We'll bring a picnic or somethin'" I muse, thinking between chews. "I was thinking we could make something tonight 'stead of going out again, something summery maybe."

"Yeah?" Harry mumbles, rubbing his hand over his sun pink cheeks, "Like what?"

"Maybe pitas and some fruit- you bought enough kiwis to last us a lifetime." It's true, he'd claimed he had to in celebration of the tour coming to an end. "Here, d'you want the rest?"

Harry's eyes wander down to the remaining half of my sandwich I'm holding out to him, I try not to think too long about how I could watch his sleepy eyes light up for as long as he'd let me.

"I had something after you left earlier, I'm not that hungry." He looks up at me, unconvinced, but takes the plate anyway, quickly setting the plate on his lap and tucking in. Now that he's sat up in the light without the shadows of the dark cushions around him, I can see how pink is face really is. There's a blushing red along his cheeks and nose and the tips of his ears are bright pink. I brush my thumb over his ear softly, catching his attention as he winces slightly.

"Sorry- think you caught the sun a bit." He swallows the food in his mouth and nods up at me.

"Yeah, hurts a bit." I tilt his face slightly to see the other side - the pink continues down his neck and shoulders where it disappears under the tan lines of his t-shirt.

"Did you not put suncream on before you left?" His mouth full again, he just shakes his head. I smile slightly at how suddenly he's eased into his patient role, munching on his sandwich and peering up at me - ready for me to tend to his injuries. A soft grumble comes from Harry before I sigh - "I'll get the aloe vera."

I walk out into the cool tiled kitchen, opening the fridge again to retrieve the small pot of gel from the top shelf. It was one of the only sensible things we'd managed to buy during the kiwi shopping spree.

"And why didn't you have any suncream on?" I chastise him, giggly at his pouty expression. "It's right on the table, you know."

"You were in bed - I forgot." He eyes my movements as I tuck my leg undeath my body and sit opposite him on the sofa, twisting the cap off the small glass pot in my hands.

" M'I supposed to remind you of everything now, can't even remember suncream without me hey?" He shakes his head, curls tousled around his face. "Come here, stay still..."

I balance the pot in his hands and push his hair back and behind his ears, it'd gotten longer on tour and was threatening to grow into a curly lord farquaad territory. He keeps his head in place when I take back the pot and spread the cold gel over his nose, smiling slightly in surprise-

"S'cold." He watches as I scoop another load of aloe onto my fingertips and cover his cheeks.

"It's been in the fridge- how're your shoulders?" I ask once the gel is spread sufficiently over the pink tint that covered his face and the tips of his ears.

"Not so bad, it's just my face that hurts really."

I hum an okay, spinning the pot lid back on and placing it on the coffee table beside my lunch plate. Harry's hands lay limply in his lap, one reaching slowly to stroke the hem of my loose summer dress. I look up to see his slightly shiny face settling in a shy expression-

"I can be quite forgetful - might have to look after me forever you know." He smiles lovingly, looking up from where his finger and thumb play with the cotton of my dress, to meet my gaze.

"Oh forever, so you've got no plan to improve this bad habit then?" He laughs at my teasing and his smile broadens into a trademark Harry grin.

"Nah...S'okay though, I'll look after you too."

We all end up in the garden by eight pm, lying around the pool with platters of fruit and pittas full of salad and falafel. Harry has a stripe of suncream down his nose and he keeps trying to throw kiwi into Sarah's mouth, although it's ending up anywhere but. The pink in his cheeks has calmed down by now and he's stolen a blue scrunchie from my suitcase and tied a little bun on top of his head.

The hours tick by and the air starts to lose its humid warmth. Pair by pair we trickle back inside, Sarah and Mitchell retreating to their room first.

Harry's standing above me, barefooted in the grass and tipsy on wine. He holds out his hand to me and I take it, pulling myself up from the soft blanket we'd been laying on.

"Leave it," Harry says when I kneel down to fold it, "It's not gonna rain."

Before I can protest he's pulling me behind him and inside the sliding french doors. The tile floor's cold against the bottoms of my feet but the air inside is warm, Harry squeezes my hand in his and pulls me closer against his side, slinging his arm over my shoulders. He's soft and sleepy, and we make out way up the curling staircase clumsily in each other's arms.

I call goodnight to Mitch and Sarah before falling into my own bed. There's a second and then two familiarly inked arms curl around me and pull me into a warm chest. I'm a little drunk, sun-kissed and sleepy from the long conversations of the evening and it isn't long before my eyes are closing - the last noise I can hear is Harry's soft mumbling against my hair. I could definitely stay right here forever.

[jandhstudies]

Tips to learn the Korean Alphabet (Hangul)

Hello everyone! 🐰👋 I got a few requests from people asking for advice on how to study and learn Hangul (한글). This is based on my experience and what helped me, so I hope this can somehow help you guys 😊❤️

What I do first is write organise all the consonants and vowels in two separate sections such as this. So if I find myself a bit lost or confused, I refer back to this chart.

Now writing it important and romanisation is possible. But I do not recommend it as the writing cannot transfer well into how the sound should be.

The way I learnt how to pronounce these syllables correctly and help me memorise the alphabet, I watched a YouTube video. I recommend visiting her channel if you haven't yet!

Miss Mina Oh has a YouTube channel known as "sweetandtastytv". As of now, she currently posts many videos of her travels and food reviews, but I recommend to also check out her older videos.

I learnt Hangul through her video lessons :)

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In her descriptions, she also shares practice worksheets of her lessons to help you apply your learning. I recommend to download and print these worksheets, if possible or write them down in your notebooks.

Also, do not have any music or any other video playing while watching this.

I often slowed down my progress in learning because I had so many distractions or I'd pause the video often to write down notes. This would lead me to lose concentration and not fully immerse myself into the lesson.

I honestly would recommend to do the following.

1) Drilling technique 🗣️

Watch the video once.

Pay attention and repeat out loud when she writes or says the syllable.

Do not take any notes yet.

Just listen and repeat.

2) Practice listening👂

Play the video a second time but with lower volume so it doesn't distract you when you are writing down notes.

Think of it as background noise, unconsciously you could possibly already pick up some syllables as she speaks or when you're writing them down in your books. This could stimulate your memory as you will probably already recognise sounds from listening it the first time.

Honestly I still struggle with pronunciation but practice makes perfect. Keep going and you will master it ❤️👍

3) Production 📝

Copy/download/print a worksheet.

You can remember the consonants easier by repeating them with a single Vowel. I recommend the Vowel "ㅏ", as its the easiest to learn with.

Here is a quick video of me showing how I organised mine.

(Apologies for the not so good quality and filming, I'm very camera shy😭 I will probably do a better video on this topic and post it on YouTube for you guys.)

You can do this to learn consonants, double consonants and vowels :)

4) Have fun! 🎶

If you want to get more creative, you can try to sing the Hangul characters!

A very quick way I learnt at least half of the basic Hangul consonants with Vowel "ㅏ" is through J-Hope's rap in "Boy in Luv". If you're a BTS fan, this could make it a bit more fun for you to learn.

Song by BTS and lyric video by Hamtaro Gasa. I wish to share the video with audio but unfortunately I can only have one video per post. Apologies!

Another fun way is to sing Hangul with the melody of the alphabet~🎶🎤

5) Test yourself 📑

I know this is pretty common knowledge but it really does help!

I suggest to do worksheets often. Maybe learn half of the consonants first. Then when you are comfortable, learn the other. Practice the vowels, combine them once you're happy.

What I did was write down all the syllables on a whiteboard, hung it up on the wall and checked it every now and then. This made it easier and quicker for me to learn it as I had the information near me instead of using a lot of my time searching online.

Every few hours I would test myself reading the syllables out loud. Its okay if it's hard to recognise it at first, take your time~

6) Read, Write, Check 📝👀

I think this method is a common activity to people. My teachers did this to learn new vocabulary in English when I was really young. I tried applying it to learning Korean, and have positive results! 😊

First, read the syllable you are learning. Try a syllable with one consonant and a Vowel.

Pick one or a few from the diagram. Then place a sheet of paper over the character and make sure its not visible to you.

Write down the syllable from how you remember it.

Finally, check your answer by comparing it to the diagram. Do this often and it will really help you memorise~

If you remember any other activities you were taught when younger, try to see if you can apply them to learning Hangul or Korean! 🤗

7) Further Study 📚

Once you're comfortable and want to improve your speed in reading either the characters or words, I recommend these methods...

You don't necessarily have to understand what you are reading at the first time, so don't feel pressured. This is more to help you recognise hangul~

Maybe you enjoy kdramas! 🎬 Why not download and print the script of your favourite kdrama? Although this is more towards intermediate and advanced learners, I think it's useful for beginners so they can enjoy reading ❤️

Or maybe you like listening to Korean music! 🎵🎧❤️

Here's a website that has most Korean songs in Hangul format. This will help you recognise the sounds your favorite idol sings the next time you listen to their songs~ 👂

Follow some accounts on social media~📱

Most social media apps have a character limit, so the messages are usually small and simple to read 📖

8) Apps!

Here are a list of apps I recommend. Some are more practical for learning Hangul while others will help you learn Korean in a fun way!

9) Take breaks

Please remember to stay hydrated, eat and don't worry about the time it's taking you to learn it. Just focus on the material and please don't compare your progress with others as this would cause you to lose confidence and motivation. 💪

Love and take care of yourself. Let your mind rest to process everything you've studied and continue when you can~🤗❤️

I recommend the pomodoro technique! You can search this technique and maybe you will feel more comfortable applying it to your study plan. 😊

This is the end of the post hahaha

Sorry its taken so long to post this. Tumblr kept crashing for me whenever I tried posting, so this is the 4th time trying to post it. 😂

Also, this is based on my experience and what helped me learn Hangul and progress on my Korean. I hope some of these methods help you. Feel free to adapt them into any way that helps you. We all learn differently and at different pace, so please remember to not be harsh on yourself.

If you have any other questions, suggestions or your own experience learning Hangul that you think will be useful for others, feel free to reply to this message! Let's help each other in our language journey~

Take care everyone, good luck and see you again soon!

-Hayleen 🐰❤️

[kmomof4]

Time and Again Ch5

Ok, so I had a whole post all ready to go with such a spectacular cliffhanger, that I know y’all were SOOOOO looking forward to! But my EVIL beta @hollyethecurious wouldn’t let me do it! So you can blame or thank her for making me have mercy on all of you. I choose to blame her... but I still want to share the post I had planned, because I thought it was really great and it was such a shame that only Hollye and I saw it... so here it is.

Bwahahahahaha!!! You think the last cliffhanger was bad?

Ok, HOW is there not a gif of Samuel L Jackson saying “Hold on to your butts?” 

So just imagine a gif of Samuel L Jackson in Jurassic Park saying “Hold on to your butts” right here...

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this new chapter! And before you yell too hard at me, ch6 sneak peek will be up Saturday morning with the full chapter Sunday.

That was the original post I had planned, I hope it gave you a good laugh. So without further ado, here’s ch5! I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link

All the love and thanks to my besties and beta @hollyethecurious and #1 encourager @winterbaby89! I love you ladies more than I can say! Thank you for everything! *Mwah* 

Also lots of love to the CSSNS discord ladies for all their encouragement, patience, and advice while I worked on this. 

Tagging my peeps: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

A/N Thanks to @totheendoftheworldortime for the use of her original line from Unlocked.

Emma sat on the knoll outside her apartment watching children play on the playground below. Watching them was a very effective tactic in keeping her circling thoughts from overwhelming her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, raven haired man stroll toward her. She pointedly ignored him as he settled himself down next to her.

“I rescheduled the meeting with Miss Lily,” he answered her unasked question.

She nodded, still refusing to look at him. “Good.” Then, indicating to the children playing below, she said, “You see that little girl down there? The one with the red hair?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“She reminds me of a girl that I knew when I was a teenager. Her name was Kelly. She was older than me and a real snippy, jealous bitch. I can see that now, as an adult. When I came into the home, all I saw was a bully who took every opportunity to put me down and try to make me feel like Ingrid, our foster mother, could never love me. Didn’t work.” She shrugged before continuing. “Ingrid eventually adopted me and sent her and all the others away.”

He cocked his head to the side. “So I was right on the beanstalk, wasn’t I? You have been left alone.”

She rounded on him then, her anger flushing her cheeks. “Don’t you even say that! You have no right!” She turned back toward the children, angrily swiping at the stray tear on her cheek.

His voice was more gentle than she’d ever heard it before… awake, that is. “We’re going to have to talk about this. Eventually. You know?”

“No, we don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “We do not have to talk about this at all. In fact, this is THE last thing that I’d ever want to talk about.” She was more comfortable giving him some details about her less than ideal upbringing than she was talking about this.

Emma Swan was a master at denial. She had a degree and everything.

“You’re my boss,” she exclaimed, waving her hands around aimlessly. “Not some dashing, romantic hero that my dreams keep painting you as.”

“Our dreams, Swan,” he interjected, softly.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head furiously. “No, I refuse to believe that. Dreams are the most secret, most sacred… Dreams are the window to the soul.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head again. “I read that somewhere. But it’s true,” she continued, opening her eyes and turning to him. “Dreams are the window to the soul and no one… NO ONE… has the right to enter another person’s soul.” The tears she was so desperately trying to hold back escaped and tracked down her face as she turned back toward the children.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he apologized. He reached out to wipe away her tears, but then hesitated before touching her. “You’re right,” he agreed, “no one has the right to enter someone else’s soul. But this wasn’t my fault. This was not something that I did. And, you may not have considered this,” his voice got unbelievably more gentle, “but, if we did share dreams, and based on your reaction, I’d say we did. Although we should at some point compare notes, see how much lines up. Anyway, if we did share dreams, then not only did I enter yours, but you entered mine.”

She hadn’t thought of that. Oh shit. She turned surprised eyes on him. Ducking his head, he scratched behind his ear. Her mouth dropped open when she recognized the gesture from the third dream, just after he had given her the flower. “You did that,” she exclaimed, pointing at him, eyes wide. “You did that in the dream. In the meadow.”

His hand fell while his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed. “Well, that’s two things that line up,” he mumbled, visibly uncomfortable. He turned back to her. “Listen Swan, whatever happened, I think it’s safe to say we’re dealing with three dreams?” She nodded. “The beanstalk, Port Royale, and Camelot.”

Emma turned away, embarrassed. She knew what she experienced in the dreams, and was having trouble reconciling the fact that Killian had experienced the same things, too. She looked up to see him staring down at her hip.

“Do you have…” he began, with unabashed curiosity.

“Yes,” she exclaimed, indignant, her hand hovering over where her swan birthmark was. “Yes, I do. And I’ll thank you to not bring it up again! I resent this, Mr. Jones. I resent this very much.”

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he apologized again. “I truly am. I won’t bring it up again. But I think that the only way we’re going to solve this… thing…” he gestured between them, “between us, is for us to… uh, to…”

“You think we should have sex, don’t you?” she interjected, angrily.

“What? No!” he exclaimed, surprised. “Well,” his countenance fell into sheepishness, “maybe. But not… I mean...” he finished, indignation again coloring his tone. “These dreams put us in increasingly… ah… intimate situations.” His cheeks and ears were flushing again as he scratched furiously behind it. “I can’t help but think that maybe the universe is trying to tell us something?” His tone and shoulders rose at the end, making it more of a question than a statement.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” she blurted out, “Soulmates? Not you, too!”

“What do you mean, ‘you too?’” The confusion on his face almost made her laugh.

“At lunch the other day, Down the Street Cafe.” She waved her hand around impatiently. “Soulmates was our topic of conversation. You’re not telling me you believe in them too, are you?” she asked, condescension dripping from her tone.

“What I believe about soulmates is neither here nor there,” he asserted. “What I’m trying to say is that given the nature of the dreams, maybe there is something to them. I think we should go away together. For a few days, at least. I have a place, well, Granny has a place, an island off South Padre, that I go to to unwind, relax. We could go there. Give you a chance to see me as a man. Not as your boss. If the other happens, well then, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Nope,” she argued, shaking her head vehemently. “Not interested. The dreams all happened when I worked late at home. Now that the campaign is over, late nights are over, too. There won’t be anymore dreams. So, there’s no reason for me to ‘see you as a man.’” She put air quotes around his earlier words. “Hopefully, I’ll be getting that promotion and moving to LA in a few months, so that’s even more of a reason to not ‘see you as a man.’” She was so caught up in her tirade, that she completely missed how his face fell at her words. “So, just leave me alone, and stay the hell out of my dreams!” She got up, and stormed back down toward her apartment.

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

Emma Swan hurriedly returned to her home from the marketplace. She had left her temporary guest sitting outside her little cottage, and something that she had seen in the village had her heart beating rapidly in alarm against her ribcage.

She had found him on the shore, unconscious, nearly a month ago, on her early morning constitutional. The violent storm from the day and night before had finally blown itself out a couple of hours before dawn and had left the air crisp and cool. Since the storm had kept her indoors the day before, she looked forward to watching the sun rise from her usual place along the shoreline. She found that starting her day in this way put her in a good state of mind to get through the day as the village healer.

Before she got to her spot however, she came across a gravely wounded man. He had a huge gash along his torso, starting at his left collarbone and not ending until it nearly reached his right hip. Whatever had caused it, had nearly cut him in half. She was amazed that he still breathed. Once she got him to her cottage and could have a closer look at his injury, she realized he hadn’t been in the water long as the wound still seeped blood and the tissues around the gash were horribly swollen and an angry red, signifying infection had set in.

Over the course of the next week and a half, after sewing him up, she had treated him with poultices and cool sponge baths to bring his temperature down as the infection raged through his weakened body. She could only hope that the poultices and the infection fighting herbs she had to force him to swallow during very brief moments of consciousness would do their job and save his life.

She remembered her stunned awe when, almost two weeks ago now, she had awakened after a full nights sleep to find that his fever had finally broken and he was sleeping peacefully beside her.

He hadn’t opened his eyes until the next day, and when he did, she had to shake herself to keep from getting lost in their cerulean depths. She had answered his questions and asked a few of her own as she continued her ministrations over his injury in the following days. He still spent most of his time sleeping, so they didn’t have much opportunity to speak to one another.

Once his sleeping patterns evened out to a more predictable cycle, she started helping him out of bed for brief minutes each day before his exhaustion and weakness would overtake him and he’d have to be led back to the bed. After a few days of this, with each day his time outside the bed lengthening, his sass started to show with his mild complaining about being confined to the bed, not in the good way, he remarked, eyebrows waggling. She had finally promised him that she would let him get out of the bed today and stay that way for awhile after their noonday meal. She didn’t want to overtax his weakened body and cause a setback in his recovery.

After their simple meal, she had helped him out of bed and out of doors. Being out in the fresh air and sun seemed to make him lighter somehow. He had turned his face to the sun with his eyes shut and just basked in the midday warmth. When she told him that she needed to go to the market and he should come back inside while she was gone, he begged her to let him continue staying right where he was. He would be fine until she returned, he protested. She’d only be gone for about an hour and so she had reluctantly agreed.

Now she was berating her stupidity as she nearly ran once she was beyond the sight of the village. She arrived at the cottage nearly breathless to find Killian right where she had left him on the crude wooden bench right outside her door.

“What’s your hurry, lass?” he asked as she rushed over to him.

Struggling to catch her breath, she dropped her basket to the ground to help him inside, even though he didn’t really need it. “We have to get you inside,” she gasped, wrapping her arm around his middle. “Did anyone see you?”

“No,” he replied, puzzled, getting to his feet. “I didn’t see anyone. Why?”

“There’s a wanted poster in the village with your picture on it. Fifty gold pieces for information leading to your capture. You’re wanted for piracy,” she informed him.

His countenance darkened as he allowed her to lead him back inside. “Aye,” he agreed, darkly. “His Majesty,” he spat out, “sent me and my crew on an unholy mission. I was captain of his flagship. I would have no part of it, and so, my crew and I stole his ship and have been doing what we could to destroy his navy one ship at a time.” His gaze bore into hers as he settled himself at the table.

“What was the mission,” she whispered, sitting across from him.

He bowed his head, refusing to meet her gaze. “I was ordered to a small, unnamed hamlet right on the borders of the kingdom. We were to arrive under cover of night, barricade every structure in the town, so that no one could escape, and then burn it to the ground. He said it would serve as a warning to those villages that resisted his rule.” Her gasp of dismay made his cheeks flush. “When I returned to the ship, I informed the crew what we were ordered to do, and immediately proclaimed us pirates, dedicated to the overthrow of this wicked tyrant.” His eyes had finally risen to hers with a burning flame behind them. “I’m proud to say, first, that my entire crew followed me and second, that in only two weeks time, we had sunk 8 of his ships. Then we were caught in that hurricane and I was thrown overboard. You know the rest.”

“Indeed, I do,” she replied. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured, “I mean, I can,” she said shrugging, “but I can’t BELIEVE it!” She shook her head, before standing up and making her way to the cooking area to begin preparing their dinner. “I have no love for King George, believe me. His taxes are oppressive and his cruelty is known in every corner of the kingdom. But this! This is beyond anything I’ve ever heard of!” She turned her eyes toward him with a burning flame of her own behind them. “I’ll help you,” she declared. “Do you need a healer on board your ship?”

He smirked and raised an eyebrow at her. “Why lass, are you saying that you want to stay with me? Hmmm?” She blushed and turned her attention back to the food she was preparing.

“Oh, um,” she stammered. “I was just offering my services… if you needed them… on your ship.”

He came up behind her until she could feel the heat from his body. “We’d have to find my ship first, darling.”

She spun around facing him, her eyes widening at his close proximity. “Oh no you don’t,” she countered him. “Don’t think I don’t know what those charms are around your neck. I noticed them when I got your shirt off when I first found you…” she trailed away, blushing again, as he looked at her with a knowing grin. “I know magic when I see it. I had to use a potion in the poultices to help with your healing. That gash should have killed you. Anyway, one of them is a charm against drowning and the other you can talk to another person who has a matching shell. I know that you’ve been communicating with your ship since you woke up.”

“Clever girl,” he replied, smirking at her. “You’re right. I have been communicating with my first mate. They were carried to the other side of the realm by the hurricane and are making their way back to get me. They should be here in the next few days. Perhaps as early as tomorrow.”

“Then take me with you,” she pleaded, looking into his eyes. “I can’t continue to live here under his rule. Not after this. Not when I can help you.” She looked down, blushing. “Not when I can stay with you.” She looked back up into his eyes then with all the longing and desire that she had felt for him since she found him, and that had only deepened since he awoke.

“Emma”, he choked out, as he met her gaze. “Are you sure? The life of a pirate isn’t an easy one. But I will take you with me, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” He raised his hand to cup her cheek, the tenderness in the gesture surprising her. Perhaps the desire she felt wasn’t unreciprocated.

“Yes, Killian,” she breathed, “I’m sure.” She saw in his eyes the moment his control snapped. His lips crashed into hers as he gathered her even closer into his arms. She rose onto her toes to meet him, winding her hands in his black hair, before clutching his shoulders as his lips left hers and peppered kisses along her jawline and then her neck.

“Then yes, darling,” he murmured into her skin. “I’ll take you with me.” He claimed her lips again as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed they’d been sharing now for four weeks.

“Do you have any idea,” he continued, “how long I’ve wanted this? Or how maddening it was to wake every morning with you beside me and not being able to touch you? Only force of will kept me from taking you into my arms while I awaited your answer just now.”

“Well,” she gasped in between kisses, “you weren’t exactly able to do anything about that until just these last few days, plus I wanted to be close in case you needed me, and I didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor.”

“That’s true,” he replied, claiming her lips again as he lowered her to the mattress. Releasing her lips when he dropped her, he climbed up and hovered over her, desire darkening his blue eyes. “Never doubt that I need you,” he whispered, before lowering himself down on top of her and kissing her deeply again. She melted under his ministrations when his tongue sought entrance and she eagerly granted it.

They undressed each other slowly, wanting the encounter to last. With every piece of skin exposed, with every gasp, with every murmur, every kiss and touch they fell more into each other until everything in their hearts and minds were consumed in the fire and passion they had for each other.

Much later, when they lay together sweaty and sated, Emma traced nonsensical patterns into his chest. “We never ate dinner,” she declared.

He chuckled before laying a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Aye, lass,” he agreed, “but you don’t see me complaining.”

She raised herself enough to settle her chin on his chest. “Oh, I’m not complaining either,” she smirked. “But I do think we should eat something. Keep up your strength.” She patted his chest with a wink.

“Why Swan, were you planning on tiring me out this evening?” he asked, cheekily.

“Maybe,” she drawled, pressing a kiss into his sternum. She rose from the bed and pulled on her shift, so that she could get them something to eat. As she did, she cataloged the herbs, roots, and equipment she would need to take with her when they left, as soon as the Jolly arrived.

“I should make preparations for leaving,” she said, returning to the bed after putting a hearty stew over the fire to simmer for a bit. “I can get things together while we wait for the food and by the time it’s ready, I should be too.”

“Whatever you need to do, darling.” He pulled her back down to the bed, kissing her tenderly.

“Mmmm,” she murmured against his lips. “I won’t get anything done, if you don’t stop that.”

He chuckled. “That’s true.” She could feel his smile against her lips. “Maybe I want to ravish you first, then I can help you in your preparations.” He pulled her over on top of him and pressed his hips into hers so she could feel what she did to him. “Having twice the hands, can only make the work go faster,” he murmured, pressing sweet kisses into her neck, before working his way down to nip at her collarbone.

“Ah yes,” she agreed, “having another set of hands will certainly make the work go faster.” She gasped as he lowered her shift to expose her breasts and dove in. After that, there were only gasps and moans of pleasure as they discovered even more of the secret places that left them panting and begging for more.

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

“Captain. Come in, Captain.” The voice through the shell sounded tiny and far away.

“That’s Smee,” Killian moaned as he reached over Emma to grasp the shell necklace that had been discarded sometime the evening before.

“I’m here, Smee.” Killian spoke into the shell.

“Sir, at dawn three man of war’s flying George’s colors were spotted off the port side. We’ve tried to evade them, but they’ve caught up and are preparing to board. They haven’t tried to engage.” Killian looked at Emma, her eyes wide.

“They must be trying to capture…” she whispered.

“Aye,” he replied, solemnly. “The Jolly was his flagship. He’s probably hesitant to sink it. And if he does, and I were on board, then he couldn’t make a spectacle out of me. And if I know him, that’s exactly what he’ll want to do.” Turning back to the shell, Killian gave his orders. “Do not engage, Mr. Smee. When they board, do not engage. They’re trying to capture me and get the Jolly back. I won’t have you and the crew putting yourselves in that kind of futile danger.”

“Y- yes, sir,” his first mate stuttered.

“I’m sure we’ll be hearing what His Majesty plans for you before long, and I’ll make plans accordingly.” He paused, considering the implications. “Godspeed, Mr. Smee.” Killian turned tormented eyes upon Emma. “He’ll plan to hang them all.” Emma nodded. “I can’t allow that.” Emma nodded again. “As their captain, it’s my job to protect them.” He pulled her to him, so she couldn’t see his eyes, stroking her hair. “I’ll either have to successfully break into wherever he’ll be holding them or surrender myself in their place. There’s a decent chance that he’ll agree to that. There’s not a more vindictive bastard in the entire realm, and the chance to publicly humiliate and kill me after I stole his ship and made a fool out of him may be too much for him to resist.”

“Killian, isn’t there another way?” she pleaded, lifting her eyes back to his.

“If you have another idea, darling, I’m all ears,” he mused. “I should send word to the castle immediately, so it arrives before word of their captures does. Offering myself for them.”

“But he won’t let them go,” she protested, raising herself to her elbow so she could look down at him. “He’ll trick you somehow and hold on to them, then hang you all.”

His blue eyes were contemplative as he met her fearful gaze. “I’ll have to refuse to surrender myself until they are safely away then. I’ll have to see them safe with my own eyes before I’ll turn myself in.” His countenance hardened then with his next words. “You’ll have to go with them, love.” She started to shake her head when she realized what he was saying. “Don’t you shake your head at me. You’ll hang too for hiding me. And I won’t have that.” He pulled her back down to him until her head rested on his bare shoulder.

“I can’t lose you, Killian,” she murmured into his skin, before placing a chaste kiss into his collar. “I’d rather die than lose you.”

“No, love,” he whispered before kissing her forehead. “You have to go on and live. Stay with my crew. They’ll keep you safe, and you can play your part in bringing George down. Smee knows about you, so there’ll be no issues when you arrive at the ship.”

Tears filled her eyes as she moved up towards him, gently capturing his lips with her own. The kiss was languid, unhurried, tenderly exploring one another. Emma’s hand found its way into his hair and tugged him even closer, as if she was trying to occupy the same space or consume him completely. The other traced his ribs leaving fire in its wake before it traveled lower and grasped where he was hard and aching for her. He thrust into her palm seeking that friction that would lead to unadulterated bliss.

“Oh, Emma,” he groaned, releasing her mouth. His eyes momentarily rolled back in his head under her exquisite torture before he came back to himself and flipped them on the bed. Killian stared into her half shuttered emerald eyes, trying to read what he found there. His hand tenderly cupped her jaw before trailing away down her neck until he reached her breast. She writhed under him as he teased and kneaded her ample breasts before sucking a turgid nipple into his mouth, never halting his explorations.

“Ahh, Killian,” she cried out under his ministrations. Killian flicked her nipple with his tongue and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. He smiled against her skin before he proceeded to suck a mark into her breast. Her breathless moans wound the tension inside him tighter and tighter until he worried that he’d explode before he could bury himself within her heat. His hand continued its way to her core where he found her wet and wanting.

“Oh, yes, my darling, always so wet for me,” he praised..

“Yes!” she cried out. His long fingers curled up inside her, searching for the spot that made her see stars. “Yes, for you! Only for you!”

“Gods, Emma,” he moaned, as she started to ride his fingers. “I need you now. Need to be inside you. Please,” he begged.

Emma stilled and captured his gaze with her own. “Yes, Killian.” She lined him up at her entrance where he took her in one long smooth stroke.

Twin groans of ecstasy reverberated around the small cottage as he sheathed himself in her warmth. He crashed his lips against hers as his heart beat a singular rhythm. Em-ma, Em-ma, Em-ma. He held himself still for a moment, savoring the feeling of home he always felt when he was inside her. For a captain, home was his ship. But being with her these last few weeks, even if he was only conscious for the last two, a wholly unfamiliar feeling had risen up. He couldn’t deny Emma’s beauty or her expertise and care for him when he was nothing but a stranger to her. But these past few days, as she continued to care for him, he knew that he couldn’t leave her behind.

Once the Jolly arrived, he had planned on doing whatever was necessary to convince her to come with him. But then, she had her own revelations about her feelings for him, sending him reeling. His strong, fierce, beautiful Swan cared for him. She had captured him, heart, body, and soul and he would not take a single moment left to them for granted. She was his home and he loved her with an overwhelming passion. He wouldn’t have his love blaming herself or regretting anything that had happened between them when he was gone.

He began to pump a steady rhythm into her, determined to show her what he couldn’t now and probably wouldn’t ever speak of. Their rapture built slowly until at last, he raised her leg to rest on his hip and his thrusts grew more frantic. The change in angle was exactly what she needed for her walls to begin quivering along his length. With a cry of his name and her fingernails digging into his shoulders, her walls clamped down on him dragging him over the edge with her. Killian pressed his lips against her forehead, eyelids, and nose before caressing her own as they drifted back to earth. A whimper reached his ear as he rolled off of her, not wanting to crush her. He drew her back into his arms and stroked her bare back as she nestled her head into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll go with them,” she promised, placing a gentle kiss to where his pulse was still beating rapidly. He drew her even more tightly into his arms before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

“Come,” he said, rising from the bed, “I have to send word to the castle. How many days journey is it from here?”

“As the crow flies, about half a day,” she replied. “In actuality, about two days journey by horse. I would imagine that your crew would be held here in the village gaol, and that George would travel here for their hanging. It would be much easier for him to come here rather than his guards to take them to the castle. There are too many chances for an ambush and possible escape between here and there.”

“Then I should send word now, before his men have a chance to notify him of their success.” He pulled on his clothes and turned to her again. “Do you have paper, and a quill and ink?” he asked, “Or do I need to go into town to procure them?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked, incredulously, “With your face on the wanted poster?” She shook her head. “I have some here. You write your message, I’ll take it into town. It should be there in two days time, before he receives tidings from his men.” His face was tender as he drew her into his arms.

“Then we have at least two more days together. I suggest we make the most of them,” he breathed before kissing her breathless again. “But first, my message.”

He settled himself at the table and began to write.

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

There was an air of celebration in the square of the village. Public hangings were always looked forward to as a distraction from the mundaneness of everyday life. And the hanging of pirates was even more eagerly anticipated because of the notoriety of the prisoners. This hanging promised to be entertaining. An entire crew that had deserted from his majesty’s navy would meet the noose. They had also been responsible for the sinking of ships that carried food and other goods that the villagers depended on.

The crowds had started to gather just after dawn, with the hangings to commence at noon. Killian and Emma had absconded away from her cottage not long after to where the Jolly was still docked a week after George’s men had arrived with their prize. George planned on boarding the ship, reclaiming it as his own, and returning to his castle after the hangings were over. Killian had planned on hiding Emma near the ship so that when his crew was released, she would join them on the Jolly and be safe. What he didn’t realize, of course, was that Emma had no plans whatsoever to leave Killian to his fate. She planned on dying beside him, knowing that once she revealed herself at the hanging, she would be arrested and hung as an accessory. But she wouldn’t let him know that until the last possible moment.

She stood at the back of the village square hidden in the shadows where she could see all the proceedings. King George sat on his makeshift throne on the dias to the left of the scaffolding meant for the pirates. As the pirates were led out from the gaol, a hush descended on the crowd. Until a brave soul spit at the pirate at the head of the line. Then the quiet tension was broken as the gathered crowd began to yell, scream, throw things, and jeer derisively at the prisoners. George had a smug smile on his face as the pirates were reviled and beaten by the half crazed assembly. Suddenly a shot rang out and the fabric making up the back of the dias blew back where the bullet penetrated only inches from where King George sat. His smile disappeared as a shout rang out over the alarm of the crowd.

“Hear me, subjects of King George.” Killian cried out over the gathering. “I am Captain Killian Jones of the Jolly Roger, and I am here today to surrender myself to your king in exchange for the lives of my men. When I was notified of their capture, I sent a message to the king laying out the terms of my surrender. As captain of these men, it is my duty to see to their safety and well being. When your king received my missive, he rejected my offer. Apparently it’s better to kill many then to capture and kill the one that is truly wanted.

I am responsible for the taking of the king’s flagship. I am responsible for the sinking of eight of his ships in single combat. I am the one that he wants. But in true cowardly fashion, he has to make a statement. A statement that, he hopes, will be received with fear and trembling in his subjects. Now I ask you. Is that how a king should rule? Through fear and intimidation? I think not. But that is exactly what he does.

I stole his ship and plotted my course of securing his downfall because of the mission he sent me and my men on. To a village, a fortnight’s journey from here by sea, on the outskirts of his kingdom. To barricade every building within the walls of the village and burn the village to the ground, killing all the residents within. The aged, women, children. I could have no part in the deliberate murder of innocents. For that, yes, I am guilty and I will pay the price. But you will release my men, your majesty. Then, and only then will I lower my weapon and place myself in your hands. I give you my word. And my word can be trusted. Because I am a man of honor. Otherwise, I will shoot and kill you where you sit. That earlier shot was a warning. This pistol is aimed right between your eyes, and I will not miss.”

King George’s face was nearly purple with fury, but after a tense and silent standoff with the pirate captain, he finally nodded at the executioner and ordered him to release the prisoners. Eyes never wavering from his former sovereign, Killian called to his men. “Make haste for the Jolly Roger, Mr. Smee. You know what to do.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” the rotund man shouted back.

Once the pirates had left the square heading in the direction of the docks, Killian lowered his weapon. The smirk was back on King George’s face as his guards rushed the captain and dragged him to the scaffolding.

“You were right, you know, Captain,” the king sneered. “I did want you. But with you now out of the way, it’ll be nothing to capture my ship back and all of your men will still hang.”

“Do you hear that?” Killian shouted again at the crowd. “King George will stop at nothing to squash every last voice that rises in opposition to his rule. Remember that, I charge you all,” he proclaimed, his restrained hands pointing at the crowd.

Emma could wait no longer as the noose was fitted over Killian’s head and tightened. She pushed forward shouting his name. “Killian!” The crowd parted before her so that she ran unimpeded to the very foot of the scaffold. “I love you!”

He looked down at her, love shining in his blue eyes. “I love you, too.”

King George gave the signal and the trap door was released.

The sickening crack jerked Emma upright in her bed, tears streaming down her face.

Trying desperately to catch her breath, she nearly knocked her phone to the floor instead of picking it up in her trembling hands. Barely able to see through her tears, she found him in her contacts and pressed call.

“Yes,” he answered curtly, after the first ring.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything other than gasp out her sobs of relief at hearing his voice.

“Emma?” he asked, concern coloring his voice.

She nodded, still not able to speak, not realizing that he couldn’t see her.

“I’m okay, darling,” he cooed, “I promise you, I’m alright.”

She nodded again, still trying to bring her sobs and breathing under control, and ended the call.

Untold minutes later, while still trying to shake herself from the clutches of the dream, she heard a knock at the door. Opening it she found her boss standing on the threshold looking quite the worse for wear, still in his pajamas, with his hair sticking up in all directions. Seeing him there, all the emotions that she was trying desperately to hold back came roaring into the space between them as she fell into his arms. Her sobs, that she had nearly gotten under control, now echoing in her ears. She was barely aware as he lifted her into his arms, bridal style, and carried her into her apartment, using his foot to shut the door behind them.

He whispered endearments and comfort into her hair as he sat down on the sofa, still holding her close. As her sobs finally started to taper off into gasps and hiccups, Killian nuzzled his nose against hers. “If I pull some strings, we can leave today,” he murmured into her skin. She had not the strength to resist him and nodded into his chest.

This last dream was the final straw. She wasn’t sure she could survive another one. She’d do anything to get them to stop. The dream had exposed the deepest part of her heart and mind, leaving her no place to hide now. She wasn’t just attracted to Killian, she loved him. And she probably had since she first came to work at Jones Brothers.

“I don’t understand,” she confessed, “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t even turn on the TV tonight.”

“No…” he trailed away, “but I did.”

She raised incredulous and accusatory eyes toward him. “You did this… intentionally?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed, clearly horrified. “I would never willingly seek this. I wouldn’t put you through an experience like this.”

“No, of course not,” she agreed, looking back down. “It must have been horrible for you, too.”

“I mean, maybe unconsciously,” he conceded. “I couldn’t sleep. I don’t even remember what was on. Sometimes I just like to have another voice in the house.”

“Me too,” she agreed. “It’s exactly why I turned on Netflix on the nights I was working late at home. It keeps things from getting too quiet when you have nothing but work or your thoughts to keep you company. And those nights, those episodes of Black Sails, showed up in our dreams.”

Suddenly very aware of how close he was holding her, and his continued caresses down her arm and back, she startled back and got up from her spot on his lap. “I’ll, uh…” she trailed away. “I’ll pack and be ready to leave…” She looked everywhere but at him. “Uhhh, how long will we be gone?”

“Let’s plan to come home Sunday,” he decided. “If that’s okay with you? I’ll go home and pack, and make some phone calls, then I’ll be back to pick you up. Probably about nine?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she agreed. She walked over to the door and opened it for him as he rose to take his leave.

“I’ll see you then,” he whispered. She looked up at him then and was startled by what she found swimming in his blue eyes. Trust, devotion, love. All the things that would normally have her running as fast and as far in the other direction as she possibly could. But for some reason, the thought of doing that with him, simply made her heart ache. Shutting the door behind him, she leaned back against it. What have I gotten myself into now?

Thanks for reading and sharing.

[unreachablevoice]

Moving In Is What Started It All

Summary:

With Marinette’s parents being away with work, she is left in the care of one of their supposedly family friend; who just so happened to be someone who she has always been idolizing. And throw in the fact that she is having a hard time with friendships experiencing hardships, bridges being burned, and secrets unraveling and her parents unintentionally (plus being clueless with their daughter’s suffering) throwing their daughter in a pit of misery.

Note:

This fanfic will not contain Miraculous. Though, This does still contain the concept and some of the episodes of the show just cut out the parts of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Previous | Next | Masterlist | AO3

Extra Chapter | This is The Grown-Ups’ Talk, Kids Keep Out! (or not)|

This is the part when both Marinette and Adrien's parents went to a separate room to leave the two to “bond”.

It's just a little extra/filler chapter where you'll read what they talked about when they left them alone.

You can skip it if you want, I mean it's just an extra chapter. There won't be any ship scenes anyway. You don't have to read this to know the rest, but if you're still going to read it then....

Enjoy^^

P.S.

Sorry if this is umm posted like after Chapter 3... it’s actually supposed to be before. I kind of got confused, sorry. Just check the Masterlist to see the proper sequencing of the umm Chapters... yeah, sorry. 

Narrative POV

The adults are now in the dining room, leaving the two teens to bond with each other.

"So.... What's happened lately? Is the situation about that again?" Gabriel said, as to try and start the conversation. The Dupain-Chengs’ faces turned to each other and sighed in sync. 

"Yes, actually. Some of our clients had a problem with our workers, and some of our workers are having problems with handling interviews and auditions." Sabine replied.

A chuckle escaped from the lips of the older Agreste. "It's like the problems are both vice versa."

Sabine had shown a smile on her face by the time he chuckled. "I guess you could say that I bet both the clients and the workers are going to be another pain in the–!”

“Language!”

Sabine meekly looked at her husband and muttered an embarrassed ‘sorry’. Tom laughed at his wife, which was followed by a deep, throaty chuckle from Gabriel. A few more series of laughter was heard, and then they continued their conversation.

"So... Any news on Emilie? Is she... awake yet?" Tom asked, carefully keeping in mind how sensitive the subject can be. A hurt, lonely, and sad look replaced the expressionless look on the slight blonde's face. His eyes looked like they were about to burst into tears at any moment. Seeing his wife in a hospital bed—which could also possibly be her deathbed—wasn't really the most satisfying.

"Sh-She's still the same... Nothing really worsened nor improved.... It just hurts how I can't do anything to help her with the battle she's facing." Gabriel's voice cracked, his eyebrows trying their best not to knit together, and his lips trying their best to smile which just turned to an uncanny curve. The couple in front of him knew he was hurt, they wanted to do something to help their friend but they knew that even they can't tell what time could. They don't have powers that can magically heal his wife, nor are they skillful people that could help the woman.

"Oh Gabe, it's okay to cry.... We know it hurts, so don't hold back okay? We're your friends... We know if something's wrong so don't try to fake your act on us like that. You're stuck with us whether you like it or not." Sabine said in response to the look that he showed, placing her hand to the slight blonde's shoulder; reassuring him. While Tom hugged the man tight.

Small and quiet sobs broke from Gabriel's mouth. He was glad he had such good and supporting friends like them. Lucky for the three, every room in the Agreste Mansion was made to be sound proof (only if they want to, there are buttons that they could press to make the room soundproof or not) so they didn't have to worry about the two teens hearing them.

After calming down, it was Gabriel's turn to ask the two and switched the topic. "I heard your daughter is a big fan of mine. Is that true?" he smiles as he visualized in his head how a petite noirette would look like while holding a magazine of his and squealing adorably.

The Dupain-Cheng's nodded in agreement and in unison. Their daughter really was a big fan of him, ESPECIALLY his son. But they couldn't tell him that, they'd betray their daughter's trust, well not like she knows that they already knew she has a crush on him.

"Haha, yes it's true. She likes all of your designs, and she bought each and every magazine you've ever published.” Tom chuckles as he remembers that one time where little Marinette had filled their whole storage room with different magazines and some are even scattered on the floor and their furniture.

“You know, she’s aiming to be a fashion designer one day. She’d won each and every one of the contests that she had joined by a landslide. And she even has a lot of famous and rich people commissioning for her, adding to her growing lists of connections!" he added, proud of the accomplishments his daughter had gained.

Gabriel was touched, his friends' own daughter idolized HIM! Isn't that sweet? She even has a lot of accomplishments and connections! He thought that maybe this girl could succeed his company, and may possibly be his future daughter-in-law, AKA his son's wife.

"So... Tell me, is Miss Marinette interested in someone? Perhaps, someone a lot closer than I think?" he asked. Hoping that his friend would say it was his son, Gabriel waited with anticipation. His hands were on his knees, on the verge of ripping a hole on his black uncluttered slacks. His face kept an unreadable expression, yet inside he was sweating bullets. He wanted Adrien to marry this girl, and he wanted her to be a part of his family so bad to the point that if Tom would say no, he'd THREATEN the girl and her parents into letting her marry into the Agreste family.

"Marinette? Well, the thing is..." Tom did not continue, he hesitated, scared of his own daughter being mad at him. And boy, she was a force to be reckoned with when mad. 

Gabriel wondered what was wrong. Tom usually didn't take this long to answer, so what happened? Gabriel looked at Sabine who just shrugged, saying that she'll leave the answering to her husband.

"Tom... There's someone, isn't there? Who is it? TELL. ME." Gabriel uttered as slowly and as intimidating as possible, signaling to Tom that if he didn't tell him, he'd probably do something he wouldn't like. Tom swallowed a huge chunk in his throat that he, himself, didn't even know he was holding in.

"Dear, I think you should tell him already. Look, you're going to pee your pants in that voice of his." Sabine spoke, trying to save her husband from all the trouble. Tom sighed, finally giving in to the slight blonde's demand. He looked Gabriel straight into the eyes, begging him not to make any uncanny noises that could.

"Alright... The truth is, Marinette does have someone she likes. And that person is ---”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Adrien, she likes Adrien.”

Gabriel was surprised. Though he was right, he still didn't expect his hypothesis to be correct. His friends' daughter liked HIS son! So his dream will come true! Gabriel smirked at the thought of him being correct, and at the fact that he could ship his son with their daughter.

"Wait.... How did you know that Miss Marinette liked Adrien?" he asked, curious about how his friends could keep an eye on their daughter even though they're not around all the time. The couple giggled at his reaction. Knowing Gabriel, he's probably thinking about something that's not that important.

"Oh Gabriel, of course, we'd know.” Sabine smiled fondly at the Agreste, getting ready to reminisce about a memory of hers.

“Remember that episode of Jagged Stone where he visited our house? She had pictures of Adrien plastered on her walls right?” Tom recounted the time when Marinette was so upset he was almost certain she would’ve thrown them out of their house. “Though, she did lessen down the posters now.”

“Well... before that, there was also a time where we asked people to clean her room and those people saw it. Of course, they'd come running to us, and just by one glance of those plastered pictures, we immediately knew that our little girl liked him." Sabine chuckles as she remembers when their housekeepers had frantically ran to them and was quite scared with the number of faces that welcomed them in their daughter’s room.

The couple laughed, a full belly laugh as their daughter’s panicked and embarrassed face flashed on to their view. Gabriel was dumbfounded, he thought they'd also put a security system inside their daughter's room just to look after her like he did, but no. They didn't.

"So you didn't have to put any security system around your house?" Gabriel asked, shocked on how come they didn't have to go through what he went.

The couple in front laughed at his statement. "No... Why Gabe, did YOU put one in your house?" Tom asked, in which Gabriel returned with a low nervous chuckle. "Well.... we wouldn't be surprised if you did that. I mean, you are Gabriel Agreste, the control freak," he added, in which was pronounced as a slight mumble.

Gabriel heard the declaration that was just made, even if it was just a mumble. He couldn't help but open his mouth in shock. "Excuse me??!! What do you mean you wouldn't be surprised?! And-And what do you mean control freak??!! I am not a control freak!!" Gabriel said with a stern voice, meaning to say that he did NOT like what he just heard and will NOT want to hear it again.

A few more arguing and laughing was heard, which explains why Adrien and Marinette had to stop their little "moment" (REFERENCE TO CHAPTER TWO). Though, that wasn't the end of their little get-together. Of course, the friends missed each other so they needed to bond as much as possible. But catching up was the least of their problems, they still had to hook up their children to each other for who knows how long....

Though, they finally decided to head out to the living room to discuss the whole move-in thing to their children much further.

[hiirunakaarchive]

— to act in haste

↳ wisely and slowly; they stumble that run fast. (pt 2), (pt 3), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc

◇ genre: angst

◇ word count: around 6000 ?? sorry lol

◇ warnings: mild-ish ??/ nsfw

◇ author’s note: hey everyone! i know today’s strictly for nightbound and acor’s comeback, but i was so excited to get back into writing since the last fic i actually finished was 3 years ago. sorry if i couldn’t wait till friday, but please give this some love, it took me two weeks to write 🤡🤙🏼 i uhh,, recommend reading this on a laptop since the phone format is wonky but happy reading! might post a second part if people actually end up liking it, so feedback is greatly appreciated !!!

prologue 

Ethan Ramsey was a enigma.

For one, he never took cliche sayings to heart, and the one he found the most laughable was his own mentor’s advice.

“Ethan,” Dr. Banerji warned.

“That contemptuous smirk will one day be your own undoing.”

“I’m sorry,” the younger doctor replied, one corner of his mouth still twitching from amusement.

“I knew you were a sap, but at the very least, give me romantic advice that came from your own vocabulary.”

“Then I won’t be able to dumb it down enough for it to click in that thick skull of yours.” Banerji retorted, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teased his junior.

Ethan threw his head back and laughed.

Appreciate what you have while it’s still there, Ethan. You never know when it might disappear.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey was a man of calculation and precision. He never believed in the concept of taking risks because acting without the basis of foretold outcomes was a dangerous and unworthy game to play; his ultimate philosophy.

He was resented for his misunderstood arrogance, but it stemmed from reasonable logic.

“You can’t afford to be scared.” He glared at the new batch of interns, his voice dripping with gravity.

“Cowardice clouds your judgement, and clouded judgement puts the life that your patient entrusted to you at risk. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Came a chorus of replies.

Edenbrook’s newest doctors returned his icy gaze with their own, gleaming with vigor and determination. For a split second, Ethan felt a sense of fondness for them despite his own principle of not picking favourites, for they reminded him of himself in his first few years of practice.

In the crowd of adults, however, one woman stood out.

The way her face contorted after Dr. Ramsey spoke suggested that she took his words way more seriously than he intended for her to. She wasn’t fiddling with her badge out of nerves, or socializing with her colleagues out of excitement. She kept her eyes on him from start to finish, and he almost found it difficult to ignore.

Scanning the audience once more before sending them away, his eyes landed on her again, meeting her gaze briefly before Ethan found himself looking away first.

He didn’t realize it yet, but in a single moment, those eyes stole everything from him.

thursday, februrary 15, 2018

“Haruna Sakurai,” I read her name aloud in my office, scrutinizing her letter.

Transferred from University of Tokyo to Oxford with a Bachelor’s in Neuroscience, graduated at the top of her class in 2017, and dabbles with robotics as a pastime.

“Her pedigree is outstanding,” Harper stared at the bundle of paper, flipping through the pages with narrowed eyes.

“Sayuri Aoyama and Ryoichi Sakurai...Ethan, do you know who these people are? They-”

“Each won a Nobel Prize for discoveries in cancer treatment and immunology.” Dr. Banerji interjected, struggling to contain a smile as Harper passed the application to him, examining it himself.

“Met at the awarding ceremony, fell in love, and, together, have contributed impeccable research in the name of medicine. Arguably the most respected couple since the Okazaki’s and their discovery in regards to DNA replication.”

“Naveen…” I said, my poker face never faltering.

“How… like you, to be caught up on the gossip. The Kardashians weren’t doing the job?”

“Oh, be quiet.” The mentor chuckled as he continued to scan the application.

“I’ve met the Sakurai’s at a conference in ‘88 just before their child was born. Besides, don’t talk to me about the Kardashians when you named your dog Jenner.” Naveen placed air quotes around my pet’s name.

“I-”

“Do you know what this means?” Dr. Emery said impatiently, bringing her palms down on the table and redirecting our attention to the main topic at hand.

“To have their daughter at Edenbrook will do nothing but promote the hospital’s already sterling reputation. We have to have her.”

“I agree.” I sighed, pushing myself away from my desk and folding my arms over my chest.

“Ethan?” Dr. Banerji raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I never would’ve pegged you for the type.”

“The type to what?” I inquired, my tone embodying more of a demand rather than enlightenment.

“To choose someone based off lineage.”

“Excuse me? I- no. God, Naveen, never. There’s just something about this one-” I reached for the application across my desk and Naveen handed it to me eagerly, his teasing smile never leaving his face.

Flipping through the stapled copies of recommendation letters and awards of recognition, I stopped abruptly near the end, my eyes skimming over the page before opening my desk drawer and placing the application gently inside. Amongst hundreds of hopeful applicants, I pushed an alarmingly thin stack of paper towards the doctors across my desk, saying,

“These nineteen and Sakurai. Contact them and inform them of their acceptance. This one-” I tapped the wood of my drawer, referring to Haruna’s application.

“I’ll keep with me. There’s something I want to check.”

Following Banerji and Emery’s exit from my office, I opened my drawer once again and pulled out Sakurai’s application, muttering to myself in a low voice as I read the closing paragraph of her letter.

“Genealogy has already established irrefutable evidence connecting a child’s intelligence to that of their predecessors.”

“Though I certainly acknowledge my lineage as a biological factor in terms of my academic success, I refuse to accredit my own achievements as solely dependent on my pedigree.”

“Sayuri Aoyama and Ryoichi Sakurai are medical figures whom I am still light years away from perfectly emulating. However, in order to find my place in their world as even a speck of dust, I must first find myself. Rather than being addressed as Haruna Sakurai, daughter of Nobel Prize winners, to me, Haruna Sakurai, rookie doctor in the country’s number one hospital is much more gratifying.”

Reaching the end of the conclusion, I placed the corner of the first page between my thumb and index finger, bringing it back to the front. I returned the bundle of paper to the brown envelope from which it came and reached behind the back of my head to lace my fingers together.

I looked up at the ceiling, wondering audibly.

“Rookie, huh?”

wednesday, may 8, 2019

The idea of pursuing romance at my age would have sounded unfathomable to me a year ago. In fact, I was almost certain I never wanted to get into a serious relationship at all. But it isn’t until you desperately try to abide by workplace ethics despite undeniable mutual attraction and numerous instances of sexual tension that you realize you’re only human.

“I think I’m ready, Naveen.” Ethan paid a visit to his mentor’s home, sitting at his bedside as he unloaded his lovelife woes.

“I know I’m rushing headfirst into it, hell, I’m probably not even thinking straight-”

“Ethan, slow down.” Naveen reached up from his bed and rested an encouraging hand on Ramsey’s shoulder.

“I just...we’ve only known each other for a ten months but I will most probably spend the rest of my life searching in vain for someone like her. I can’t let her go, Naveen. I won’t.”

The older doctor responded with nothing but a lighthearted chuckle, his teasing nature never having left him despite being ill.

“You really ended up taking my advice to heart, didn’t you?”

Ethan couldn’t think of a better way to reply apart from raising his hands in surrender, laughing alongside him.

“Damn it, you got me.”

friday, may 17, 2019 6:15am

“Rookie.”

Strolling through the ward as I made my rounds, I recognized the familiar streaks of red and black as Haruna stormed past me, loose hair cascading down her back like dripping ink on tilted parchment. As she heard me call out to her, she immediately turned on her heel and greeted me through a plastic smile, holding her clipboard to her chest in a white-knuckled grip.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Ramsey?” She asked in a strained voice masked with professionalism.

In the midst of the bustling hallway, all interns having come from the lobby to hear who won the fellowship, mine and Haruna’s brief interaction evoked glares of suspicion and lingering, questioning gazes from the surrounding staff. Though I anticipated an overwhelmingly negative response to her achievement, I couldn’t stomach the paranoia festering in my gut.

We slept together. Repeatedly.

And no amount of constant rejection or futile attempts at fighting my impulses could undo what had already been done.

“Congratulations, and welcome to the team. I expect your contributions to fall nothing short of phenomenal.”

I crossed my arms, assuming my default nature and Haruna’s often cold and intimidatingly vacant stare softened slightly as she let out a small smile, ducking her head in acknowledgment.

“Of course, I look forward to working with you. Excuse me.”

She resumed her natural air of discipline and turned the opposite direction, beginning her rounds in confident strides as I watched her retreating form disappear as she turned the corner. Years of people-watching as a meaningless pastime and my own skills of observation as a doctor hadn’t betrayed me in the sense that I could tell Haruna was troubled. 

But then again, she was never good at hiding her emotions.

4:57pm

Several hours had already passed, it being late afternoon before I encountered Haruna again. She sauntered mindlessly in my direction, not looking up from her chart as I looked both ways in the empty hallway. She released a silent gasp of surprise as I gently caught her by the elbow and used both hands to maneuver her into the ward under construction, which we mutually agreed became our spot for private conversations.

She raised an eyebrow as I looked over her shoulder, one hand still placed on her arm.

“In a rush?” I asked her, lowering my gaze slightly to meet her eyes.

She hugged her clipboard against her chest, one corner of her mouth tilting upwards in satisfaction before replying.

“Not at all, my patients this week have been nothing apart from pleasant. Treatment and the like.”

“Ah. I see.” I broke eye contact, feeling inexplicably bashful all of a sudden.

What are you doing? I thought to myself.

You’re not here to play Yahtzee, ask her if she’s free tonight.

I let my hand that rested on her arm fall limp at my side. Looking over Haruna’s shoulder a second time under the pretense of appearing mindful of our surroundings, she cleared her throat with avoidant eyes before holding her hands behind her back, rocking lightly on her heels. A painfully awkward moment passed before she broke the silence.

“Were you hoping to steal a moment with me, Ethan?” She teased, a playful smirk hinting at her lips as I choked on my own breath and looked at her with wide eyes.

“We are in a professional setting, Haruna. I would never-“ I began before I registered the childish expression she wore, obviously amused by my reaction.

A muscle in my jaw twitched as I kept myself from smiling as well, adamant on refusing to entertain her antics.

“No, that’s exactly it. In a sense.” I conceded, and the mischief in her eyes disappeared, replaced with her usual stern visage and...was that a grimace?

“After our shift is over, I’ll meet you here and we can go back to my condo together, is that alright?” I asked her hopefully and she returned my question with nothing but a look of repulsion.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives-” I initiated my panicked explanation before she sighed in defeat at my lack of humour.

“Calm down, I’m teasing. I’ll see you later then, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you as well.”

The mystery behind her proposition made my heart skip a beat, and my imagination dared to deviate between the actual practicality of the situation and my own lewd fantasy. Of her lips racing to move hungrily against mine as soon as I shut the door behind her upon entering my home. Of me cupping her face in my hands as I slip my tongue past her lips. Of her moaning against my mouth as my hands move from her face, to her neck, and down to her chest, roving her body and ultimately dipping into her jeans as her own fingers fumble with my tie and the buttons of my shirt-

Ethan Ramsey, you fucking animal, focus.

Haruna touched my cheek in my momentary loss of self and was unable to mask her pleasant surprise as I reached upwards and placed my hand on top of hers, turning my head slightly and pressing my lips to her palm. She looked away and bit her lip in embarrassment, releasing her fingers from my grasp and beginning to make her way back to the main ward.

“Oh, and Rookie?” I called to her before she made a complete exit.

She whipped around, her eyes beaming with anticipation as if hoping for something more.

“Be sure to pop by Mrs. Reitman’s room today. She’s getting discharged this evening and insisted upon saying goodbye to you especially.”

I smirked in satisfaction at my own success in lightly teasing her and Sakurai rolled her eyes, but the smile that formed on her lips betrayed the air of vexation which she tried to exude.

“With pleasure, Dr. Ramsey.”

7:26pm

The ride together was unsettlingly quiet.

We met at the incomplete wing as promised, but she came in slow, exhausted paces. A disturbing sight in contrast to her usual march; one of which the nurses on the unit described as similar to a catwalk. Dr. Sakurai was poised and somewhat aloof, yet her natural character brimming with charisma made her intimidating aura seem almost insignificant.  

But there was none of that today. Her confidence, which everyone thought to be a well that never ran dry, appeared almost nonexistent as she trudged towards me looking distant and oozing fatigue; not from the work, but seemingly from everything else.

“You look bothered, Rookie.” I voiced my observation as she approached me.

She didn’t greet me with her usual smile, or shoot back a snarky response.

“I’m fine. Let’s go?”

“If you’re too tired, then this can wait until another day-”

“I can manage.” She interrupted, beginning to make her way to the elevators and to the basement parking lot.

Since then, neither of us had spoken a word. Between the brief moments I found to catch a glimpse of her, Haruna faced away from me and instead, looked out the window of my car, admiring the city that came to her in bright flashing lights. With the window rolled down just enough to welcome fresh air, she leaned her elbow against the armrest and closed her eyes.

My eyes darted to her resting figure as I caught the stoplight illuminated red, and the second I intended to be fleeting became more as I found myself unable to look away.

She shifted in her hollow dormant state, and her features previously hidden from my sight came into view as she turned her head towards me.

On the empty road tainted black, I mistakenly interpreted the casual eeriness of the night as serene. Haruna’s lips parted slightly as she slept and her hair, hauntingly jet black, fell across her face in poker straight strands. In that moment beneath lamp-lit streets, she was beautiful, and frighteningly so.

“You, Haruna Sakurai, are an enigma.” I sighed, leaning my head back against the headrest as I stared vacantly at the ceiling of my car.

Admit it, you useless coward. You love her.

8:02pm

As we pulled into my residence, I handed my keys to the valet, an eccentric old man who was a little too friendly for my liking, and undeniably nosy. Yet he held feelings of sentimentality for the doctors of Edenbrook because one saved his life seven years ago. I was that doctor.

“Dr. Ramsey! When’s the last time I saw you? Come home a little more often, you workaholic!” He guffawed and landed a solid clap to my back.

“Charlie…” I grimaced.

“You are the reason I don’t come home, you rotten old prune-”

“And you brought Dr. Sakurai along too! Always a pleasure, my dear.” He flashed me a wink and Haruna masked her fatigue with a gentle smile, nodding her head at him once.

“Mr. Panelo. Likewise.”

Maneuvering our way around Charlie’s attempts at small talk, we somehow made it inside the building and into the elevator, although a little short of breath. Haruna, a born people-pleaser, usually took the time to entertain the elderly man and his efforts at setting her up with his son, but after today’s brief meet and greet, she followed me wordlessly through the doors and pressed the button to my floor.

The ascent seemed to be longer this time, or maybe it was the ongoing silence between us that made time appear to go more slowly. She stood alarmingly close to me, our shoulders slightly touching and her hand hanging out of the sleeve of her jacket, begging to be held. As I spotted her beginning to lean her head into the crook of my neck, I reached out to take her hand, but the sudden ding of the elevator made us both jump.

Despite the both of us being aware of the moment we let escape, we left it unacknowledged as the doors slid open. I allowed Haruna to exit the elevator first, and I slowed my pace to match with hers as we walked to my unit. Reaching the door, I stepped aside and softly tilted my head in the direction of the keypad.

“Hah!” Haruna couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know me too well.”

Six familiar beeps and the click of the automated door into my flat made my heart race with anticipation, and I could see that it had the same effect on Haruna. As I opened the door and gestured for her to enter first, I saw her chest rise once with a suck of her breath before she stepped inside.

Her eyes wandered every inch of the room, familiarizing herself once again with her surroundings as I closed the door behind me. The last time she was here was last month, and I’ve been craving her since.

“Jenner, baby, are you here?” She abandoned her temporary facade to coo after my dog as I slipped off my shoes and hung my coat.

Haruna whistled a low tune as she continued to call for him, walking backwards into the living room like she was afraid to miss the sight of the pup bounding towards her in excitement. She lived for moments like that.

“Jenner, my good boy, come out. Mommy’s-”

She stopped in an abrupt mid-sentence as she felt her foot slip on what I recognized as one of Jenner’s toys, letting out a yelp of surprise.

I instinctively reached out, catching her and celebrating my inner relief as I felt her weight against my arms. Wounding them further around her, I looked down only to see that she, too, was looking up at me. Expectantly, and with our faces mere inches apart.

“—Oh.” Haruna breathed, registering the situation and looking to the side in order to avoid my gaze.

I placed my fingers under her chin, gently turning her head to face me again. She didn’t try to look away a second time.

“Dr. Ramsey-” She said under her breath, her eyes darting quickly to my mouth.

“Ethan when we’re alone, remember?” I muttered, beginning to lean in. Our lips were achingly close before she brought a finger up against mine.

“Ah, ah. No ulterior motives, I believe was what you said, Dr. Ramsey?” She challenged, and I withdrew.

“Yes, I- my apologies. Take a seat. Care to dine with me?” I gestured to the sofa and she indulged as I made my way to the kitchen, albeit slightly humiliated at this first instance of rejection.

From the kitchen counter I called to her,

“Do you like your steak medium or well done?”

9:14pm

I ended up finding out that she liked her steak strictly medium well.

Ensconced in the dining room and seated across from each other, I silently admired my handiwork as Haruna rose her fork to her mouth and beamed at my homemade cooking. She brought her hand to mouth to cover the subtle smile that formed on her lips.

“This is...delicious, Ethan. You’ve outdone yourself.” She said coolly, patting the napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t have steak often?” I asked her as I took a sip from my glass of red wine.

“No, my parents didn’t indulge much in luxury.”

“And your friends at your penthouse? Rumour amongst the other interns is that you five, the scalpel jockey, and occasionally the paramedic go out for fancy dinner every weekend.”

She scoffed at the discovery of strangers in her personal business, but fondly at the memory I seem to have triggered. But as if a switch had been flipped, the smile on her face faded as she bit her lip and returned to her meal, a solemn look in her eyes.

“We did. But some of us are...not on speaking terms as of today.”

My own guilt began to form knots in my stomach as I saw her expression grow more weary.

“Is this because of the fellowship?”

She laughed bitterly.

“When is it not?��

I eyed her silently as she picked at the small hill of carrots that formed at the side of her plate, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek in contemplation.

“I’m happy about this, make no mistake. Reaching such a milestone so early into my career makes me proud. It’ll make my parents proud. I know I didn’t come to Edenbrook just to play patty-cake with my own competition, but I-“

She stopped herself, and her lip quivered momentarily as she silently exhaled.

“I didn’t think I would be so unprepared for the consequences.”

I reached for her hand across the table, taking it in mine as she continued to look down at her feet. She tensed slightly at the sensation but didn’t pull away.

“Rookie. Listen to me.”

“You’re no idiot, and I’m not saying this to make you laugh because you know I don’t joke.” I told her.

“I’ve admittedly said things in the beginning to shake your confidence, and you yourself can recall all my moments of harsh critique. You were so easy to doubt yourself, and for a while I was concerned about whether or not you really belonged here. You’re sensitive. Appallingly sensitive, brash, and naive.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Let me finish.”

I looked at her and for the first time today she returned my gaze willingly, a piercing and penetrative stare that almost compels you to break eye contact.

“But in all those times, your wit, your inextinguishable resolve towards doing what’s right, and your near reckless selflessness proved yourself superior to your self-doubt. You deserve to be on the diagnostics teams for an infinite number of reasons and more, Rookie, and I would be extremely pissed to find that petty backlash made you question that. You’re noble. Almost to a fault. And your dedication, your natural character dripping with charisma, and your untouched innocence despite it all is exactly why I-“

I love you.

Yet the words caught in my throat.

I hesitated, and the three words I anticipated to declare to her all day disappeared from the tip of my tongue. It felt like sandpaper, and I brought a hand up to my neck instinctively as I cleared my throat, loosening my tie and taking a panicked sip of my wine.

“Ethan?” Haruna asked me worriedly and I reached my other hand across the table to grasp her fingers.

“Dr. Sakurai- no, Haruna. You have to know that I-”

I stopped myself again, and I recognized my reluctance to confess as nerves. Who knew that even after guest-speaking in numerous medical conventions and reciting speeches for just as many prestigious awards that telling one woman you loved her was all it took to stutter.

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Being number one, that is.” I bluffed.

Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of excuse is that?

But Haruna seemed to have taken comfort in my words, quite obviously pleased at me having sung her praises for longer than two seconds. She smiled, genuinely this time and I felt myself relax.

“You’re absolutely correct.” She agreed.

“Except I wasn’t.”

I froze.

My fingers still wrapped around Haruna’s hand in an almost childlike grip, she pried them off before taking her utensils and finishing her dinner.

“So why?” She asked me, not bothering to look up from her dish as she continued to eat. The nonchalance in her query was alarming and the fact that I immediately knew what she was referring to invoked internal panic.

I stayed silent, choosing to remain oblivious to the context of her question. Despite my failure to respond, Haruna continued to keep her eyes trained on the food fixed in front of her, as if allowing me time to conjure up an excuse. I kept my gaze fixated on her as her fork pierced her steak, and a painfully long and uncomfortable silence passed before she decided to repeat herself.

“The fellowship. Why did I win?”

friday, may 10, 2019

“I won’t let you do this, Ethan. It’s not fair for the other interns!” Harper’s voice boomed across her office as her nostrils flared in pure anger.

“And why the hell not?” I argued, pacing the room in equal frustration.

“She’s an outstanding doctor. She’s driven and passionate- no one deserves this more than Dr. Sakurai-”

“Except for the person who came first in the rankings!” The female doctor scoffed in disbelief, ripping the list from the corkboard behind her desk and aggressively pointing to the name at the top of the sheet.

“In case it wasn’t clear, ‘Aurora Emery,’ Ethan. She came first in the rankings, therefore, earning her place on the diagnostics team. That was the condition on which we agreed upon. No exceptions.”

“This was the condition which you and Naveen agreed upon.” I corrected her, the lingering betrayal tinged in my voice.

“Sakurai is fourth, still one of our best, so what difference does it make?”

“Only everything!” Harper roared.

I quickly looked at the updated rankings with a side eye, and indeed, Dr. Sakurai’s name was fourth from the top. After Aurora, Varma, then Olsen. 

Following her sudden outburst, Dr. Emery attempted to recollect herself, releasing a deep sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You know what, fine.” She hissed, still displeased.

“The fellowship will go to Dr. Sakurai but the updated list is still going up, and whatever chaos arises as a result, you will be dealing with the reparations.”

Harper shoved the single sheet of paper roughly against my chest before storming out of her office, slamming the door shut behind her.

present

“Ethan, answer me.” Haruna repeated, a little more firmly this time.

“I did it for you.” I said bluntly, failing to convey even the slightest notion of regret at my actions.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, and looking up from my plate I saw that her utensils, still dug deep into her meal, were frozen in place. Her lip quivered once and all I could do was pretend I didn’t notice, knowing full well the shallow breaths she took to steady herself were a failed attempt to keep from crying. And they were not tears of joy.

“Did you think it would make me happy?” She asked quietly, accusingly.

“Just consider it as...recompense” I answered, attempting to avoid her question, but the following silence, contrarily deafening, suggested that I only made things worse.

“Recompense.” She echoed, barely above a whisper as if she wanted to hear the word in her own voice. As if she was afraid to say it wrong.

“No,” I interjected, immediately realizing my mistake, “not like that. I’m sorry.”

I reached for her hand across the table but she recoiled from my touch and rose abruptly from her seat.

“What are you compensating me for, Ethan? Pray tell.”

She continued to glare, and I found myself unable to speak. Unable to breathe.

“That’s not how I meant for it to sound.” I tried to assure her, but to no avail.

“That’s how you made it sound.”

wednesday, november 21, 2018

I appeared at Haruna Sakurai’s penthouse in the pouring rain, half past midnight. She voiced her surprise as I paged her in the lobby, addressing her through the intercom.

“Dr. Ramsey?”

“Rookie.”

“It’s late. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

A brief silence passed between us before I heard the unlocking click of the entrance door. Stepping inside and unable to idle in anticipation for the elevator, I took the stairs to the sixth level.

Reaching the entrance to her penthouse, and Haruna whipped the door open after a single knock, as if waiting for me to show up.

“Dr. Ramsey, I-“

I took one large step forward, cupping her face in my hands and capturing her lips hungrily against my own as she stumbled backwards into her unit. I kicked the door shut and my clothes and hair, drenched from the rain, dripped onto her marble floor as the adrenaline from running up six flights of stairs resulted into me groaning in heavy breaths against her mouth.

A lustful disarray of lips and tongue, we persisted in our heated kiss as we tripped over ourselves in a backwards mess, hitting walls and furniture until her back lay flat against the glass of her living room window, the blinds up and allowing pedestrians below an inappropriate spectacle.

“Your roommates?” I muttered against her mouth and she smiled, grabbing the lapels of my jacket and pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

“Donahue’s. Now shut up and continue where you left off in Miami.”

I obliged. Grabbing both of her wrists in the single palm of my hand, I pinned them above her head as I removed my lips from hers and placed them on her neck. Haruna sighed in content.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this. About you.” I admitted.

I released her wrists from my grip and trailed my hands down from her arms to her chest, cupping her breasts as I kissed her jawline.

“That kiss in Miami left me wanting more and I have a feeling you knew exactly what you were doing to me the moment you let me put my hands on you, Haruna Sakurai.”

She found herself speechless as my fingers wandered over the silk of her blouse and reached under to feel bare skin, hot against my touch.

“Doctor-“ She began, only to bite her lip and suppress a moan as I reached a hand into her underwear.

Haruna buried her head in the crook of my neck as my fingers continued to work against her, breathing raggedly until she still found the energy to respond.

“Your perverted thoughts just couldn’t satisfy you anymore, could they, Dr. Ramsey?” She looked up at me mischievously and I pulled her chin to me in a rough kiss.

“And that mouth.” I breathed against her lips as she came up for air.

“The things I’ve imagined doing to that smart, pretty mouth-“ And it was her turn to silence me.

Reaching a hand to the back of my head and tangling her fingers into my hair, she pulled my face towards her again in a kiss fueled with fervor. At that point, we both knew I was wrapped around her finger.

“Enough talk, Ramsey. Show me.” Haruna demanded in a threateningly quiet voice, and I could do nothing but follow.

-

“Are you sure about this?” I clarified one last time, taut arms pressed on either side of her head as Haruna laid beneath me, both of us in the nude.

“I know how you feel about me, Dr. Sakurai, and I-”

Haruna reached up, her hands wandering from my lower abdomen and up my chest before cupping my stubbled jaw between her fingers. She silenced me by pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then firmly against the parting of my lips, slipping her tongue in the brief opening she found as I gasped. Reaching around my neck and grasping my curls, I was pulled closer towards the woman beneath me until my head rested on her bare chest.

“I love you.” Haruna whispered against my hair.

“And I don’t care about whatever answer you have, whenever, just as long as you give me this. At the hospital, during the day, we can just be Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai. But at times like these, at ungodly hours of the morning when it’s just you and me, we can just be a man and a woman.”

“Pretend that you love me, even just for these nights, Dr. Ramsey. That’s all I ask. ”

I said nothing as I rose from her chest and propped myself back up. I felt Haruna’s eyes following my movements, anticipating whatever step next I was going to take, and I found myself drawing my face closer to her features. I kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips before bringing my own to her ear, murmuring against her skin,

“Ethan, for tonight.”

I felt her smile against my cheek and in response, brought a hand to the opposite side of my face, turning me towards her just close enough for the woman to reply.

“Haruna, then.”

present

“Is it because I let you sleep with me?” She goaded, her brows raised and her eyes ablaze with spite.

“Because while I insisted on confronting whatever—”

Haruna gestured around her.

“—this is, you evaded me like a coward until you decided it was convenient?”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

She reminisced bitterly at that rainy night six months ago, scoffing resentfully as she shook her head at herself. She regretted it, and it hurt that she wanted me to know.

“Is that it, Ethan? Do you pity me?” She spat.

“No!” My head shot up from its downward gaze to answer her sincerely.

And the way she looked at me broke me.

She was inexplicably angry. Hurt, and the contempt in her voice was something I couldn’t stomach. Her eyes glazed with tears threatening to fall, but she wiped at her eyes furiously before breaking eye contact, as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

“Haruna, no. Those nights we spent together were something completely apart, I would never-”

“Then why!” She fumed, her voice seething with disgust.

For once in my thirty eight years of living, I didn’t have an answer.

Her breathing came in short, jagged huffs and she pushed her hair out of her face, calming herself.

“You know what they’ve said? The others?” She laughed, despite herself.

“That I slept with you to land that spot on your diagnostics team.”

I couldn’t find words. Dozens of thoughts raced through my head, fueled with guilt and apology, yet for some reason, my mind failed to formulate proper English. I didn’t have the courage to respond to her, Christ, I couldn’t even look at her.

When did I become so weak?

“People know about us, Ethan.” Haruna continued.

“And if it’s not Haruna Sakurai, daughter of Nobel Prize winners, it’s Haruna, Ethan Ramsey’s gold-digging whore. I’m sick of it. So, so sick of it.”

She couldn’t keep up her facade. Her expression, once contorted in pure rage, softened as she let her tears fall freely.

“I’m sorry.” I said. It was all I could muster.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” She made sure to place emphasis on the last two words, and began to make her way out of the living room and to the entrance.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I can’t stay here for a second longer.”

“At least let me drive you home-”

“Just tell me this at least.” Haruna spun to face me, unyielding to anymore favours I tried to offer her.

She didn’t trust me anymore.

“That night you showed up at my penthouse-” She began, swallowing hard.

“You touched me like you loved me. Why?”

We both knew the answer to that, yet she insisted to hear it from my own mouth and in my own voice. Suddenly, what I’ve been trying to tell her all day became impossibly difficult to contain. I never imagined that I would have to tell her like this.

But she deserved to know. I owed it her.

“Because I did-” I answered, before hesitating. I looked away, and Haruna’s gaze was still insistent upon me.

You owe her this.

I took one deep breath, before looking at her again. I stated in correction,

“I do.”

She smiled to herself in reassurance.

“I thought so.”  

She shut the door behind her, her departure accompanied with a soft click. Once again, I was left alone in the resonating stillness of my vacant apartment.

I never thought I’d resent the silence this much.

[svtmatokis]

Mingyu Office AU! P8

Hi guys!!! I am soooo sorry this took so long and thank you for all the continued support during this short hiatus. My laptop took over two months to fix (it wasn’t serious...just MSI has terrible customer service) and all the work was on here but I FINALLY have it back! I was also on tour for work over the last few months which put a dent on posting as well since a computer wasn’t all readily available >< thank you all again n

I’m so sorry you guys had to wait for this and I’ll be posting the final chapter later tonight or tomorrow (as its going through a few revisions) after that I’ll have a few projects que’d while I work on a new project that I will be revealing fairly soon.

Thank you alllllll sooooo much for the continued support and I you guys enjoy the next project! Much Love ♥

Pairing: Reader x Mingyu

Parts:  1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Words: 3471

A few days had passed since the last incident. Seungcheol had given special permission and allowed you and your team to have the project meeting outside of the office in order for you to rest and recuperate and also to give you a peace of mind.

This meant that the meetings ended up at your apartment which Chan and Dahyun found odd since Seungcheol rarely gave special permission like this but they figured it was so you could have some peace since almost everyone on the seventeenth floor had seen the daughter of the China head (Mei Wei) slap you in the face.

Mingyu was practically at your side all the time at the office and Dahyun had seen the immense change that happened in him. He had gone from the charming ladies man to devoted boyfriend and she was extremely amazed that someone like you had managed to make him change like that. What shocked her was that your relationship never changed at the office. You were both professional with one another but there was no doubt that his eyes would follow you whenever you left his side and everyone could see how protective he was of you.

The China team had come and gone and you were happy to finally have your normal schedule back but that didn’t mean it was all that normal.

Various associates had tried to contact you throughout their visit but you rejected each and everyone. Claiming that various projects took up your time which was somewhat true.

It was the week of your one month anniversary with Mingyu and you obviously didn’t expect much but he greeted you with flowers at your door in the morning on the first day and throughout the week, you found little gifts on your desk everyday after lunch ranging from chocolates to little pieces of jewellery ranging from earrings to a bracelet  and you couldn’t help but wonder how Mingyu could afford all of this.

It wasn’t till that Friday when he had taken you out for the official dinner (not like you two didn’t have dinner together at all that week) but this time he had asked you to dress in something of his choice and he took you one of the top restaurants on Gangnam.

“You really didn’t have to do all this. The gifts through the week were more than enough” you said softly as you sipped your wine and Mingyu gave you that cute grin that always managed to make you swoon.

“It’s not a big deal Y/N. Take it as a sign of my affection” he said as he took a bite of his meal. “Do you like it?”

“I love it” you replied instantly, “it’s just… we’ve only been going out for a month….”

“And I had every intention of making you mine since you walked into the boardroom that day” he said making you blush,”and like I said before, I knew you wouldn’t agree until I could prove myself to you. I had a reputation and it wasn’t going to help anything so I had to change.”

You looked at Mingyu and thought about his words and knew that he was right. Had he maintained the reputation he had, you knew that you wouldn’t have had spared a second glance but over the months he had managed to woo you and win you over and you knew the main reason was because of his change in attitude and persona.  

He had rendered you speechless and tried to rectify his words. “I mean… everything I heard from Jun and Minghao about you was amazing and to meet you in person… I realized that I had my work cut out for me..”

You blushed again at his words and shook your head, “you’ve done so much in the last three months and I know when you put something in your mind you won’t stop till it’s done...I find that really admirable.”

Mingyu grinned at your words and before he could say more, the waiter came and offered dessert and soon the two of you found yourselves ready to go.

As Mingyu helped you put on your jacket a familiar voice came from behind you and you turned your head shocked.

“Minghan?” You asked and Mingyu turned his head towards the voice smiling but was surprised over the fact that you too knew this person.

“Little brother, what are you doing here?” He asked and you looked up at Mingyu shocked.

“Little brother?” You asked looking up at your boyfriend as said person approached you.

He gave you a small smile as he put his own jacket on and you knew his look meant that he’d explain later.

“I thought it was you, I didn’t realize till I saw the tattoo on your back” Minghan said as he approached the two of you. “I just didn’t think I would see you with my brother of all people.”

“Of all people? Mingyu asked joining the conversation. “I’m sorry, how do the two of you know each other?”

“If you recall, one of our subsidiaries started an investment group which as you already know is currently one of the main investors of the China office. I met Y/N through VP Lu and we’ve managed to stay in touch over the years.” Minghan explained as you nodded and Mingyus jaw dropped slightly. He couldn’t believe that the two of you were friends and he had no idea about it.

“How did I not know this?” he whispered to himself as Minghan started answering your question.

“And you heard correct. Mingyu’s my older brother.” he said as your jaw dropped.  “He still holds most of the shares and attends meetings monthly since he’s still on the board. I oversee all operations conducted with the companies and we just make sure there’s never a conflict of interest.”

“Is that your monthly doctors appointment?” you asked bluntly and Mingyu nodded as he placed a hand at the small of your back but you instinctively avoided his touch and that threw him off but you wouldn't have been able to tell.

Minghan knew he had cracked open a can of worms that Mingyu hadn’t opened yet but he was shocked that Mingyu didn’t tell you anything about his family. With how much he talked about you during family dinners, he was expecting Mingyu to introduce you to the family sooner. He also knew that opening this can of worms may cause some trouble between the two of you and he hoped that you would understand.

He had heard bits and pieces about the drama over the years through Luhan and knew how you reacted in various situations and only hoped for the best.

“So what are you two up to tonight?” he asked clearing his throat though he already knew the reason.

“We’re celebrating our one month anniversary” Mingyu responded his face full of annoyance which Minghan picked up on instantly knowing he had major plans that night.

“Congratulations.” Minghan said as you thanked him quietly and he looked at his watch. “Mingyu, if you have the time, theres something that I’d like your input on if thats okay.” he then looked at you with an apologetic smile, “It won’t be long, I promise.”

You gave Minghan a smile which he noted didn’t reach your eyes.

“Of course.” you said as Mingyu gave you the valet ticket.

“It won’t be long.” he said smiling and handing you some bills to tip the valet.

“We’ll have to catch up over coffee sometime.” you said giving Minghan a hug.

“Definitely, lets do dinner instead? There’s a restaurant I think you’d like and you paid the last time I was in China so I should return the favor.” he said making you nod.

“Dinner it is. I’ll text you later.” you said walking out the door and the moment it closed, Mingyu smacked his brother on the head.

“What the heck was that for?” Minghan growled.

“You literally asked my girlfriend out in front of me.”  Mingyu growled back, “Now tell me what you need to discuss with me so urgently that it can’t wait till the board meeting next Wednesday.”

“Well…” Minghan started it only took him three minutes to explain the whole situation.

“We’ll see what everyone else thinks at the meeting. Until theres proof that there’s a gain, I can't see why we’d want to scrap the project.” Mingyu responded and stood up, “If that’s all, I’d like to get back to my girlfriend now.”

“Of course.” Minghan responded, “And for the sake of your relationship...don’t hide anything from Y/N...Yanan did that to her for almost five years so she’s probably wary that you didn’t tell her something this big sooner.” he sighed. “But then again, you were always one to leave things to the last minute.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes at Minghan though he knew that Minghan had a point over the fact that he should have brought this topic up with you sooner but he wasn’t going to let his brother know that. The two of you were friends and at one point, he probably knew you better.

When Mingyu got in the car, he could tell something was wrong almost immediately but tried to ignore it as he started thinking about the next phase of the date he had planned. He reached over to take your hand in his but you turned your body so it was facing the window as you folded your hands in your lap.

He gently tucked his hand into your folded ones and managed to pry the two apart, bringing one of them to his lips.

“So I was thinking we could go for a walk at the park by the river before I take you home.” he suggested as he made his way to said park since he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I think I want to go home.” you said softly, looking out the window and Mingyu’s hand tightened around yours.

“Why?” he whined, It’s our three month anniversary and you want to go home already? ‘He asked pouting and you tried not to smile. He was such a puppy.

"Come on, let’s go for a walk…I think we need to talk..” he said a bit more seriously and you sighed in defeat and Mingyu could only do a little happy victory dance in his head.

When you arrived, he got out of the car first and went to the trunk only to appear on your side with a pair of black flats.

“I didn’t think the heels would be ideal and we can’t have your feet hurting now can we?” he asked as he helped you take off your heels and put the flats on, Mingyu then reached into his back pocket to present you with a single daffodil stem which had a small tag attached to it.

‘New beginnings'

You looked at Mingyu confused as he grabbed your hand, “Let’s go”

As you walked down the path, Mingyu stopped and went behind a tree only to come back with an Amaryllis and this time, the tag said something else.

‘Determination’

Looking up at him, he only smiled and offered you his arm. You slowly took it as he lead you further down the path and after a few minutes, the two of you reached a bench that had a gift box with a single bow on it.

“What is this?” you asked, looking between the flowers and the gift box as you sat down. No wonder he insisted on going to the park. But when did he have time to set this all up?

“Open the box” Mingyu said softly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

When you lifted the lid, you were met with bright purple tissue paper and an envelope that contained photos of the two of you and your new friends from the office from the beginning of your friendship to now. You didn’t even remember when some of these were taken but was surprised at a few of them.

There was one of you and Joshua at a get together that Jun organized in efforts for you to get to know the people on your floor and you were surprised to see a photo from the day Mingyu drove you to that big client meeting and then had dinner after and you remembered Jun telling you that he and Minghao had seen the two of you together that night so one of them must have taken the photo.

“When I was at your apartment, I saw all the photos you had with your friends from the old office so I wanted to help you decorate your apartment with your friends from the new.” he explained as you went deeper in the box.

You grinned when you found a few of your favorite candies and snacks and immediately took one of the candies and popped one into your mouth before offering Mingyu one and he happily took it from your fingers with his mouth.

“I know that you have the afternoon munchies…” he started and your head immediately shot up wondering how he knew and he chuckled.

“I know about your snack little snack drawers and little adventures across the street to the dessert shop with Kyulkyung.” he said pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the side of your head. “But the fact that you eat so much but gain so little is extremely endearing” he said in your ear as his voice went slightly lower, “And kind of a turn on.”

His last statement caused the heat to rise to your cheeks and you hid your head in his shoulder so he wouldn’t see.

“Can you not...” you whined making Mingyu laugh as he wrapped his arm tighter around you. At least you seemed more relaxed then you had earlier in the car and he was happy that his plan was working despite the slight road block.

“Keep going, there’s one more thing.” he said nudging you and you readjusted yourself.

The last thing was an envelope addressed to you and he urged you to open it.

You skimmed the letter and as you got further into it, your jaw slowly dropped.

“You didn’t…” you whispered and looked at the date of the letter which was about three weeks after the two of you had met. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Do you think you would’ve accepted me back then?” he asked, “Even Jun and Minghao agreed that you probably wouldn’t have thought twice.”

“But you waited almost two and a half months…” you said skimming the letter again.

“And I’m glad I did. But this was to show you how serious I was about you...even when you didn’t know it. I just thought you’d want to know..” he explained, “I couldn’t tell anyone back then so the only way I could express myself was by writing this letter to you.” He then reached behind him to grab another box and you gasped.

“This is too much..” you said and Mingyu laughed.

“This is the last one, I swear.” he said taking the other box out of your lap and replacing it with this one.

You opened it quickly only to find the most gorgeous bouquet you had ever seen decorated with flowers which you knew represented love.

“It’s only been a month but I fell for you the first day, that I will always be truthful to you and tell you everything” he let out a sigh thinking about what happened earlier that night which caused that doubt inside of you. “I was going to tell you everything tonight and I didn’t expect to run into my brother, let alone finding out that the two of you were actually friends…”

Your silence urged him to continue as you processed everything that happened this past night. Mingyu was the heir to one of the biggest investment firms in all of Asia, not only that but he held a high position as Tier 1 associate as the company where you both currently worked. On top of it all, he remained as the majority shareholder at the investment firm which up until recently was actually competition to your company.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked and he sighed.

“Because it’s not really public knowledge that I left the family business. The guys on our floor know but outside of that, I don’t really go announcing it to the world. My dad is still the current head but with his recent health issues, my brother stepped in as CEO once I expressed my wishes to build myself from the ground up but in order to honor my family, I will be stepping back into the role as head once my father decides to retire. My brother and I have come up with a system that works and I only have to be at board meetings once a month but he and my dad still make the big decisions and until my father retires, I am free to do as I please.” he explained.

“So you’ll eventually leave the company” you stated and he nodded with a slight sigh.

“Seungcheol knows about it but until that day comes, which won’t be for a long time might I add. We’ll continue working as we have been. I wanted to tell you sooner but I wanted you to also like me for me..” He rubbed the back of his neck, “And I never knew how to bring the conversation up so it was difficult.”

“But you managed to tell me everything in this letter…” you whispered looking up at him before looking down, “I’ve been burned so many times before that when Minghan told me about you...I froze. I didn’t know how to act and only defaulted to what I usually did…”

“Which was distance yourself and I’m sorry...I never wanted that to happen especially on a day like today.” he took both your hands into his and brought them to his lips, “I wanted to be honest with you from the beginning but I also had my doubts and I haven’t dated much for this same reason…”

You understood completely and nodded your head, “I’m glad you told me now...and I completely understand. Especially with your current fan club at the office…” you thought back to Nayeon who had been forced to apologize to you one day because she “accidentally” spilled coffee on you and you knew that Mingyu had stopped talking to her for that reason.

“You’re important to me...probably one of the most important things to me and I would never intentionally hide anything from you okay?” he asked leaning down to kiss your nose, “i promise that from now on, I’ll be completely honest with you and if anything happens, I’ll make sure to protect you.” He then wrapped you in his arms before leaning down and your lips met in one of the sweetest kisses that he had ever given you.

Your hand clenched the front of his shirt as his lips moved against yours and you suddenly felt yourself getting slightly warm as his hand rested on your thigh and the butterflies were going a hundred miles a second in your stomach and after a few minutes you had to pull away as you felt things were going too fast for a public place.

The two of you walked back hand in hand towards his car with the both of you carrying the flowers and gifts and it wasn’t long till the two of you were standing in front of your door.

“Do you...maybe want to come in for some dessert?” you asked biting your lip lightly and Mingyu resisted the urge to groan. You looked so tempting to him and all he wanted was to take you into your bedroom and not come out for a long time...a very long time.

Leaning down, his lips covered yours in a passionate kiss that had the two of you fighting for dominance but as your back hit the door, you knew that Mingyu wasn’t going to let you win this one.

Pulling away slightly so your foreheads were touching, he whispered, “Dessert sounds great.” before opening the door behind you and gently shoving you back into your apartment where your lips met once more in a more heated kiss.

You felt the heat rise as he gently lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his and as he carried you to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but think of how right everything felt at that very moment.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Four

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

September 13th, 2000

Remy looked around the campus he was on with a sigh. He really didn’t know why he was doing this. College just seemed like one of those things you did just because; it wasn’t like he was going to get a job just because he had a degree. But here he was, at his parents’ insistence.

He was sipping his coffee on a park bench, watching the leaves on the trees. He had some time before his next class, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. “Pretty, isn’t it?” a man asked from behind him.

Turning, Remy found a man with a curly mop of red hair and bright green eyes. “Yeah, I suppose,” he said, looking back at the leaves.

The man sat down next to him with a smile. “My name’s Emile,” he said.

Remy offered his hand. “Remy.”

“Nice to meet you, Remy,” Emile said. “Mind me asking why you look so down in the dumps?”

January 10th, 2019

It was Remy’s turn to stay home and look after Roman, which he figured was a fancy way of Emile telling him he couldn’t skip out on his clients again. Getting Roman into the local school system was proving to be difficult experience, and in the meantime Roman was staying home, just getting accustomed to his new house.

Emile and Remy had gotten the paternity test sent out, now they were waiting for the results. But just in case, they were also applying to be foster parents, because there were some “what if”s that left Emile insisting that they couldn’t risk Roman being taken away and sent back to wherever he had been. Remy had agreed, much to Emile’s visible relief.

But now, he and Roman were sitting in the living room, Roman reading a book while Remy worked on his laptop, making sure all his t’s were crossed and i’s were dotted. All they needed was the home inspections and interviews and they would be allowed to foster, just in case Roman wasn’t actually Emile’s.

The home phone rang and Remy sighed, getting up to answer it. “Picani residence,” he sang into the receiver.

“Remy, it’s Sarah,” the woman on the other end of the line said. “Listen, are you still applying for being foster parents?”

“Uh, yeah,” Remy said, feeling Roman’s eyes on him. “Why?”

“I may have a child who needs to be placed, and she...he says that he isn’t his dad’s biological kid. I ran the sperm donor’s name past some people, and I just got the results back from official channel’s. The donor is Emile.”

Remy was stunned. “There’s another little Picani running around?”

“Technically his last name is Gaines, but yes,” Sarah said. “Listen, he’s a bit of a special case. His parents kicked him out for being transgender. We’re trying to get him placed soon so he doesn’t have to keep sleeping in his best friend’s house, but if you guys have room, and don’t mind...I could speed up the process of getting you guys accepted and get him in your home.”

“Yeah, I say do it,” Remy said. “I’ll have to talk to Emile, of course, but I doubt he’ll say no.”

“Thank you,” Sarah breathed. “We’ve been trying to place him for three and a half months. No one wants a transgender teen and he refuses to be put back in the closet just to have a home to rest in when he’s sleeping under the roof of people who respect him.”

“We’ll respect him here,” Remy said. “Without a doubt. I’ll let Emile know ASAP, and I’ll talk to Roman about it too, because this does concern him.”

“I swear, Remy, you and Emile are godsends,” Sarah laughed. “And I don’t just mean because you give me my coffee fix.”

Remy laughed. “It’s not a problem, Sarah. Is that everything for now?”

“Yup, that’s all I wanted to say,” Sarah confirmed. “Thank you again. See you in the shop.”

“You got it,” Remy said, hanging up.

“Who was that?” Roman asked.

“My friend Sarah, who’s helping us adopt you,” Remy said. “Apparently, there’s another kid out there who could use a roof over his head, and Sarah was asking if we could help out. As long as you’re okay with it, and Emile’s okay with it, you’ll be having a brother.”

“A brother?” Roman asked, disbelief in his tone. “I’ve never had a brother before.”

Remy shrugged. “Well, this could be your chance. And from the sound of it, he’s old enough that he won’t need much looking after, so Emile’s and my attention won’t be split between you and him as much.”

“You wouldn’t...have me take care of him, right?” Roman asked, posture becoming guarded. “If he was that young and needed taking care of?”

“Not unless you volunteered it,” Remy said easily. “I don’t believe in making older kids raise their younger siblings. If you wanted to help here and there, it’d be fine. But Emile and I would never force you to do that.”

“Good,” Roman said, relaxing and returning to his book.

Remy made a mental note of that reaction. Wherever Roman had come from, it was clear he had been forced to work for someone. If not with child-rearing, then other household chores that weren’t suited for a child his age. He didn’t like the thought of what that meant. He knew Emile didn’t want him pushing Roman about his past, but Remy was worried in his own way. “Any specific reason you were worried about that?”

Roman looked up again and briefly looked like a deer caught in headlights, before he flushed. “It’s just...uh...I read a lot about stuff like that in fairy tales. And I know that sometimes my friends would have to do stuff like that too, even if they didn’t want to. That’s just kinda...how I thought siblings were, for the most part.”

Remy knew that was a lie, and no doubt Roman knew Remy’s thoughts on the matter. “Remember, Roman, Emile and I won’t be mad at you no matter if you did something wrong or not, if you tell the truth.”

Roman flinched minutely and nodded. “I know,” he said softly. “But this...this isn’t something I want to talk about, okay?”

Remy inwardly sighed. The kid had been through so much, he shouldn’t have to deal with this on his own. But, he supposed, they’d have to make sure that Roman knew he could ask for help processing whatever he needed to process, no matter how far along he was with it. “Okay. But if you ever do want, or need, to talk about it, Emile and I are here. Understand?”

Roman nodded. “Yes, sir. And...I can’t thank you enough for being here for me.”

“Believe me, Roman, when I say it’s our pleasure. Both mine and Emile’s,” Remy said with a smile.

Roman grinned briefly before switching the topic of conversation. “So this new kid. Do you know anything about him?”

“Not much,” Remy admitted. “Just that he’s transgender.”

Roman cocked his head to the side and Remy realized he had to do some explaining sooner rather than later, to avoid Roman traumatizing the new kid accidentally. “What’s transgender mean?” he asked.

“It means that someone isn’t the gender they were assigned at birth,” Remy said.

“You’re assigned a gender at birth?” Roman asked.

Remy sighed. “Well, yeah. The doctors look at your...privates, and based on that they’ll say ‘It’s a boy’ or ‘It��s a girl’ and put you in blue or pink respectively. That’s how they generally do it, anyway. But sometimes the gender you were assigned at birth isn’t the right one. And if that’s the case, then you’re considered transgender.”

Then came a question that made Remy cringe. “So...he was born a girl?”

“Not exactly,” Remy said. “He’s always been a boy, it’s just that for a while, everyone saw him as a girl. Maybe he didn’t know he was a boy. But that didn’t make him any less of a boy. Do you understand?”

Roman frowned in thought. “I...think so. Is there anything that I shouldn’t say to him?”

“Aside from the obvious of not calling him a girl, that differs from person to person,” Remy explained. “He might welcome questions about being transgender, or he might not want to talk about it. He might ask you to use different pronouns around different people, if he isn’t ‘out’ yet. You can ask what he’s comfortable with. But if he asks you to back off, you do, no questions asked, got it?”

“Got it,” Roman agreed with a nod. “Do you know when he’s coming over?”

“Not yet,” Remy said. “I still need to talk this over with Emile, and we need to officially register as foster parents, but it should be soon. And the two of you can have separate rooms. We won’t ask you to share if we don’t have to.”

Roman sagged with relief, and Remy filed that reaction away for later too. “In the meantime, I think we should prepare you for the placement test,” he said.

With a groan, Roman lolled his head back into the couch. “But I know almost everything in there!” he protested. “I might be in some remedial classes, but I know they’ll put me in the seventh grade!”

“That may be, but Emile said he wanted you to study, so you have to study. Just for an hour, okay? After that, you can keep reading fairy tales, or do whatever else you might want to do,” Remy replied.

“Fine,” Roman sighed. “But I don’t like it.”

“I don’t know many people who liked school at your age, Roman,” Remy laughed. “It’s not gonna be fun, but it’s necessary. At least until you’re sixteen.”

“Why sixteen?” Roman asked.

“That’s the legal age when you can drop out of school,” Remy explained. “If, by sixteen, you want to find a job and not do school anymore, you can try your hand at that. Although Emile and I would both encourage you to at least get a GED, which is the equivalent of a high school diploma. Those things open many doors.”

“Did you finish high school?” Roman asked, leaving the couch in favor of the kitchen, where the study materials were.

“That I did. However, I dropped out of college. I felt that they had taught me all they could teach me about business, so I went to a coffee shop, became a barista, and saved up the money I’d need to buy my own store. I was lucky in the sense that there weren’t any niche coffee shops by Main Street, yet. I was the first, and people who were looking for something new came flooding to me. And thanks to my experience as a barista, knowing what worked and what didn’t, they kept coming back for more,” Remy said. “Not a half-bad origin story, is what Emile tells me.”

Roman grinned and Remy smiled back. “You think you can study on your own or do I have to stay here and make sure you do the problems?”

“I’ll do it,” Roman said, looking at the books and sighing. “I’m not looking forward to it, though.”

Remy hummed. “Well, tell you what. If you finish all the problems in that book, and get them all right, I’ll advocate for you to Emile, and argue that you don’t need to study anymore. Of course, that means you have to continue studying if you get even one wrong.”

“I can do that!” Roman exclaimed, opening the book and immediately starting to read.

Remy smiled and left the room, grabbing his phone and sending a text to Emile: Sarah called about a possible foster kid, call me when you can

He didn’t expect an immediate reply, but he got a call just seconds later. “Emile? Don’t you have a patient?”

“This is my free hour of the day which I use to work on insurance claims. This is a welcome distraction. You said something about another kid?” Emile prompted.

“Yeah. Apparently you’re a transgender boy’s father, and the poor kid was kicked out of his home over being trans. Sarah was willing to speed up the fostering process if we take the kid in,” Remy explained.

“Well, that’s a no-brainer. We’ll take him in,” Emile said. “That is, if you and Roman are okay with it?”

“Yeah, Roman’s good with it as long as he’s not in charge of child-rearing, and I’ve never actively wanted kids, but they’re not horrible beasts who I hate. It’s nice to be able to help them,” Remy said. “And I explained what transgender means to Roman, so hopefully the new kid won’t run away screaming.”

“Let’s hope so,” Emile said. “I have to finish these insurance claims, but tell Sarah that I’m in. We’ll help this kid.”

Remy smiled as Roman came over and held the first section of his book out for inspection. “Sounds perfect,” he said.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Usurix!

Your gift, featuring soulmates, background rizzy and jimon and a mixture of fluff and (angst - mainly the, uh, supernatural stuff) with a happy ending overall, is hopefully something that you enjoy! There is also some sort of supernatural element going on here - hope the malec brings you joy!

Read on AO3

******

as the storm passes, can you hold this fragile heart of mine?

Chapter 1: bronze

Alec and Magnus are sitting on freshly painted stools in a quaint cafe off 5th Avenue, perched above bumpy grey and blue cobblestones.

They had met five weeks ago, Magnus accompanying Izzy's boyfriend, Raphael, to her most recent dance recital as his plus one.

He had been dressed in a burgundy coat with brass buttons and wool thick enough for the pervading chill of late winter.

He had been enchanting, so Alec had asked him out on a date, and here they are today, on their fifth in the tentatively warm dawn of spring.

The spring sun glints against Magnus' warm brown eyes as he sips his iced coffee.

The moment dips and spins, in the sugary light of the dappled afternoon sun, before Alec next speaks.

"So what do you do for work?" Alec asks as he sips his extra-large hot chocolate in a pink and white ceramic mug. They haven't breached the topic of work yet: there is no time like the present, to sneak past the idleness of talk about blockbuster movies and books of classic literature.

Magnus hums, putting down his coffee. "Oh, this and that. Mainly I work as a consultant."

"Right," Alec says, "and how is that?"

Magnus rips open a brown paper packet and starts stirring in the sugar flakes. "Tiresome, at times - some of my clients can be particularly aggravating - but rewarding, nonetheless. It's mainly confidential, I'm afraid. What about you?"

Alec sighs, blowing on his hot chocolate. "I work for the New York government. Nothing terribly interesting, but it pays the bills and is important work, I suppose, in its own way."

Magnus stops stirring his coffee. "Don't put yourself down, Alexander, it sounds fascinating. What do you do, exactly?"

"Oh," Alec says, and wishes for a second - a mere instant - that he had chosen a more interesting major at college, despite his current comfort in his job, "I'm a crime statistics analyst."

"Should I be worried about the level of crime in New York City?" Magnus asks.

Alec laughs, shaking his head. "It's confidential."

Magnus' beautiful eyes widen. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"I'm kidding," Alec says, "all my work is available to the public somewhere on the government's website. And nothing to note as of recent."

"Ah," Magnus replies, taking out his spoon and picking up the coffee again, tilting it towards Alec almost as if in a toast, "well, that's a relief, then."

"To us, and everyone else," Alec says as the moment heats and thickens, to another wonderful date in an imperfect world.

.

The sky is dark by the time Alec comes back to his apartment, and he can hear laughter even when he unlocks their door, which is a lovely bright magenta.

The perils of living with your siblings and their jarring colour choices.

"I'm coming in," Alec calls out as he hangs his jacket in the hallway, "so you two better not be making out in the living room again, I really don't need to see that."

When Alec turns the corner into their living room, Jace and his soulmate, Simon, are thankfully just sitting on their black leather couch and playing Mariokart.

Jace crashes off Rainbow Road and curses, before looking up at Alec. "Izzy said she'll be home from the gym in half an hour and that she'll bring dinner from that Italian place."

Alec sighs. "Will Simon be staying?"

Simon, who Alec has had the unfortunate luck to now know for two years as Jace's boyfriend and, since last year when Jace's words glowed gold, as Jace's soulmate as well, crosses the finish line with a whoop.

"Yes," Jace answers, scowling as he dives off the road again, "how was your date? Will we be meeting him soon?"

"You've already met Magnus,” Alec says, dropping down on the couch next to Jace. “So shove it.”

Alec thinks that he will let a few more weeks pass before he unleashes his siblings on Magnus, who is sweet and charming and who Alec would rather not be spooked.

Jace quietens, in some sort of weird and uncharacteristic twist of the darkening night, and crosses the finish line five minutes later as the night dissolves into another of simple mundanity.

.

Two weeks later, in the midst of April’s sunny days, Alec scowls as Izzy refuses to move from her place, sprawled on the living room’s couch.

Her head is tilted back, long black hair a tangled mess, glinting in the late afternoon sun.

Izzy’s headphones - white, with silver gems embedded, a gift from their mother two birthdays past - are in her ears, plugged into her phone.

She laughs, bright and clear, and Alec may have thought it was beautiful if he didn’t want her gone.

“Iz.” He taps her on the shoulder. “Get out.”

Her laugh is cut off. “Sorry, Raphael,” she says, before glaring at Alec. “What?”

Alec shrugs. “I would like to watch the TV. Which is in here. You are not doing anything. Therefore, please go.”

Izzy sighs, rolling her eyes. Her eyeshadow is a reddish-bronze today, the same colour Magnus was wearing in his latest Instagram post. He wonders if they've been swapping tips. “I am talking to my boyfriend, Alec.”

Alec can’t help but roll his eyes right back, asserting his dominance as the older brother. “Please, skedaddle.”

He sits down on the couch and turns on the television.

Izzy gets up with a sigh. “Fine, whatever.”

Alec puts on some TV program or other - The Good Place, which Magnus had mentioned, once or twice.

The first episode opens with the declaration of soulmates, which are almost mundane in this world.

Soulmates, he thinks, and he is glad that he is alone, for a sappy smile is surely forming on his face that his siblings would tease him for.

Magnus has good taste, is what he next thinks, and he ignores the stark correlation as the show rolls on.

.

Ten weeks have passed since Alec and Magnus first met, since Alec first saw Magnus in all of his glamour and splendour: he thinks they have been on enough dates, now, to be dating, technically speaking - boyfriends, if labels must be pinned to it.

Which is terribly exciting, a joy for Alec in all honesty.

They are sitting in a secluded area of Central Park, where the leaves rustle and squirrels run about, and they are kissing, their pretzels long forgotten and cold.

Alec closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss.

Warmth spreads, it melts, rising throughout his body.

Magnus’ hand, no longer gloved because of the ever-increasing warmth of spring, rests on Alec’s cheek.

The heat rises, it deepens and spins, all in the space of one spring afternoon.

.

Summer dawns, sticky and humid.

Alec is glad that he resides inside, these days, with the rising and the setting of the sun, where there is the icy blessing of air-conditioning.

But Magnus has other ideas.

With the coming of June, they have been dating for three months.

They are getting more comfortable with each other, more relaxed and less censored in their actions and words.

Which means, in the natural order of things, Magnus decides to drag Alec outside on one burning Saturday - to swim, yes, but outside nonetheless.

"Come on," he says, pushing back his gleaming golden sunglasses, "it'll be fun."

"A crowded public pool?" Alec asks, with a deadpan look, as if Magnus' ideas are wilting like rotten fruit in this stuffy and oppressive summer heat. "Yeah, right."

Magnus' smile is blinding. "Now, who said anything about it being public?"

He pats his black Telsa, glittering in the midday scorching sunlight. "Come on."

Not for the first time, Alec wonders about what, exactly, Magnus does for a living - but Magnus' answers, whilst polite, are surface-level and thin, revealing nothing.

Magnus is wealthy, rich, loaded, whatever you want to call it, and Alec is curious to find out why.

Not for the sheer sake of curiosity - but because this is Magnus, and he is a mystery Alec wants to unravel.

Alec, still grumbling, gets into the passenger seat, pulling down his own dark sunglasses from the nearby two dollar shop so that they cover his eyes, which betray him by sparkling with mirth. "Fine."

If he didn't trust Magnus, didn't really want to get in, he wouldn't have gotten in. But that's the thing. He does trust Magnus, secretive as he is, and not just because he is stunning. Because he is polite, kind, generous and-

He is Magnus Bane, and that says it all.

So when they drive up to a secluded beach with pristine water lapping gently at the sandy shore, he smiles and jumps right in.

.

At the edge of summer’s end, Alec thinks he may be falling in love.

They lay together in golden sheets, and Magnus cuddles closer.

Alec can't help but smile, drifting back off into a blissful sleep.

Maybe.

Maybe, this is the one.

.

September dawns with a frostiness that Alec had long forgotten.

He’s reading after a tiring day at work - really, couldn’t Barbara turn up to meetings more often than once in a blue moon? - when Izzy bursts into his room.

She’s glowing.

“Alec,” she says, beaming. “I think he said them! Can you check?”

Ah. Her words.

Alec can’t say he’s surprised. Izzy and Raphael have been dating for nearly three years, longer than Jace and Simon have been. Raphael, to be fair, is a lot more guarded - he has been burned too many times, or so he says, tired of all of society’s ingrained aphobia.

“Sure,” he says, putting down his latest book. It’s a dry read, really, but so few people publish books on queer history in 13th century England - anyway.

She’s already twisted her hair into a bun.

The gold glow pierces the thin fabric of the grey shirt.

Izzy lifts it up with an unsteady hand.

“What did he say?” Alec says as he picks up the worn corner of the gauze, which is a horizontal strip of white across her back.

Izzy bites her lip. “I texted it to you.”

“Okay, cool,” Alec says, unrolling the gauze.

The words shine bright.

I think you are something exquisite, Isabelle Lightwood, and I don’t mind admitting it.

The tightly looped cursive burns like an ember from an eternal fire.

Alec drops the gauze, and goes to find his phone and switches it off aeroplane mode.

Magnus is oddly knowledgable about queer history, pertaining from the early 17th century or so, and is a much more eloquent narrator than this bore - so the phone had been left in his wobbly cedar cabinet to take away the temptation to talk to his boyfriend instead.

The words match, and Alec smiles, snapping a picture of Izzy’s back.

“You’re right,” he says, as Izzy turns around to face him, still glowing like the sun, “he’s the one.”

.

One’s words are terribly important.

They show the time your soulmate first meant to say I love you.

They are often hidden behind white gauze before they are spoken to offer privacy, to prevent misuse and abuse.

Alec’s words curl across his ribs.

He looks at Magnus’ sleeping form on Friday night and wonders.

Is this the one?

.

December comes in a flurry of rain, of crowds and frantic shopping.

Sometimes, looking out from his office window when he's on a break, Alec thinks it romantic. But he has Magnus, now, so he thinks that looking at the Christmas rush through rose-tinted glasses is permitted.

It is already dark when he finishes work with his burgundy scarf - a gift from Magnus - wrapped tightly around his neck.

The coolness still seeps in, but that is New York.

Tonight, he's going to shop with Izzy at a night market: just the two of them, in the speckled darkness that comes past dusk.

Alec curses when he looks down at his watch.

It's nearly six.

He didn't mean to stay so long at the office - but Mark had brought coffee, and it was so warm, whilst outside was so cold.

Izzy will be waiting for him.

He finishes buttoning up his brown leather gloves and zips up his bag, before slipping down a nearby side street.

It's not his favourite place, but it'll do the job and get him there quicker.

He's still thinking this when a massive grey dog runs into the street.

"Hello," he says, because he's always had a soft spot for dogs.

The dog growls.

Alec backs away. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

But the dog leaps forward, and slashes at Alec's chest with sharp silver claws.

Alec tries to push the dog away.

The dog growls, biting him instead.

It stings. His vision blurs.

Alec tries to get up. But instead, everything slides away into a soundless blackness.

Chapter 2: silver

He wakes amongst the chaos of a hospital.

A woman with thick black hair and dark skin is in front of him in nurse's scrubs.

"Good evening, sir," she says. "I'm your nurse, Catarina Loss. Would you like anything? And your name, please?"

"Alec Lightwood." Alec shakes his head. "Thanks, but not right now."

He goes quiet, before nausea takes over him, and drifts back off into an uneasy slumber.

.

“You need to calm down.”

Catarina’s voice floats down into the ward, and Alec’s vision swims.

“I can’t.” A man’s - it sounds as if it is Magnus - voice cracks. “I can’t calm down, I knew we had to stop Russell and now.” There’s a broken sob. “Look at what’s happened - what I let happen to Alexander .”

It’s Magnus.

Alec can’t speak, hooked up with a million or so tubes, his tongue heavy.

Don’t worry, he wants to say, it’s just a bad dog bite.

Instead, he falls back into a restless sleep.

.

Next time he wakes, it is morning - early dawn, the light slipping past the hastily drawn blinds.

Catarina walks in and closes the door shut.

“Alec,” she says, hesitantly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replies.

Catarina nods, biting her lip. “Magnus is outside. Would you like him to come in?”

Alec frowns. He wishes that the lights were less bright. “I mean, yes, but what about my family?”

Catarina can’t seem to meet Alec’s eyes, fidgeting with the black ballpoint pen clipped to her notebook. “You can see your family, but first - first there is something we need to tell you, about your attack. Well - I’d ask you to sit down, but you’re already lying down in a bed, so.”

The door clicks open once more, and Magnus steps inside.

His face is bare of make-up except for the faintest trace of eyeliner around his eyes and his hair is hanging limp. His clothes look slept in and there’s this wild, harried look in his eyes which Alec has never seen before. In short, Magnus is a wreck, absolutely dishevelled.

“I.” Magnus gulps, unshed tears glittering in his eyes. “I don’t know where to start. Can I sit?”

Alec nods, sitting up against the white starched pillows.

Magnus sits down on a rickety white plastic chair, the farthest from Alec’s bed. “I understand if you never want to see me again, but you do have to know that I never wished you any harm.”

Alec’s ribs burn, but that’s not what really registers, in the here and now: instead he watches Magnus’ fingers twist and turn in his lap, ringless and slender.

What has Magnus done?

“I should have never started seeing you,” Magnus continues, “it was foolish of me, but it was so lovely. I forgot.” He swallows. “I forgot why I stayed away.”

Alec pulls up the blankets closer to his chest.

“The wolf that bit you was no ordinary wolf,” Magnus finally says, after a long moment of unbroken silence.

“A wolf? In inner-city New York? I thought it was a dog,” Alec cuts in, rubbing at the bandages wrapped across what seems his whole midsection.

Magnus looks up, and Alec doesn’t think he has ever seen him so shaken, so frightened. “It was a werewolf,” he whispers, “a werewolf named Russell, to be precise, but that doesn’t really matter. And - there’s a high chance that you will become a werewolf, too, in a few weeks.”

“Oh.”

He’d laugh at the absurdity of it all, but Magnus is crying, silently but heavily.

Alec wants to reach out and hug him, but he still doesn’t know if he can trust Magnus, he's acting so out of character.

“All the legends,” Magnus says with a cracked voice, “are true.”

Alec doesn’t understand, lying there still in shock.

“I’m sorry.” Magnus stands up, the scrape of his chair echoing across the room. “I can’t - I can’t do this.”

He runs out of the room and Alec looks, wide-eyed, at Catarina.

Catarina sighs, putting down her notebook. “It’s hard for him.”

“How do you know Magnus?”

Catarina smiles, but it is brittle. “I’m his best friend. I know he hasn’t told you much because he wanted to protect you, but that’s all null and void now, I’m afraid.”

She closes the door again.

“The thing is, both Magnus and I - we’re not exactly human, either.”

The world halts, stops spinning on its axis for a precarious second.

“We’re warlocks.”

.

Catarina talks, explaining this hidden Shadow World which Alec is now irreversibly part of, and Alec blinks blearily at her.

Not in disbelief, no, or shock - just in a kind of a weary realisation, like some sort of flimsy tarp is finally being removed and the world is becoming so much more clear and vivid.

Magnus’ reluctance to share anything remotely private. The malicious - malevolent, even - intent in the wolf's green eyes as it bit him.

Everything he has ever thought as true - it’s false, isn’t it?

He’s lived in a web of lies - a false reality, a fabrication, for all of his life, and now is to be roughly pulled out into an even harsher reality than the one he thought he knew.

"But I'm a warlock," Catarina finishes her explanation with, in a roundabout kind of way, "so I'm not the best person to explain the intricacies of being a werewolf. I-"

Alec holds out his hand. "Thank you, Catarina, for the detailed explanation, but I would like to rest now."

Catarina nods, and leaves the room.

Alec doesn't know what to think, how to feel.

He falls into an uneasy sleep, and dreams of red flashing lights and the cracking of bones.

.

It is late evening when he wakes, and Max, Maryse, Jace and Izzy are all already there.

"Alec, honey," Maryse says, who is standing at his bedside and absentmindedly running her fingers through his limp hair, "how are you feeling?"

Alec tries to sit up, but it's pointless - he's too tired, so he simply slumps down further instead. "A bit rough," he admits, though he wishes he could draw the curtains around himself, hide his weakness from his siblings, protect them from all the horrors of the world even though they are all now adults. "Not going to lie, that wolf took me by surprise."

Izzy, who Alec can't help but note is not wearing any make-up, gasps. "A wolf? In central Manhattan?"

Alec laughs, though it is weary and strained. "I was surprised too. Sorry about missing our appointment, by the way."

Izzy shakes her head, taking one of his hands and rubbing circles into it, her crimson nail polish chipped. "Don't apologise, Alec. We're just glad that you're okay."

Alec thinks about how he may be a werewolf.

How Magnus up and left.

Okay? Maybe physically, if that.

But his family has already fretted too much, so instead, he simply nods and lets their chatter sweep his thoughts away to a happier place.

.

The next day, a young woman wearing a studded leather jacket visits him.

Catarina closes the door. “This is Maia Roberts, the head of the New York werewolf pack.”

Maia's eyes flash green. "Alexander Lightwood, is it?"

Alec slowly sits up. "I prefer Alec, but yeah."

Maia sits down on the rickety chair Magnus had abandoned the previous day. "If you are a werewolf, you can come to my pack. There's about twenty of us, and we live down by the docks."

"Thank you for the offer - can I keep my job?" he asks. "I live with my siblings - do I have to leave?"

Maia sighs, rubbing her fingers together absentmindedly. "It's a bit complex. Not an outright no, like it would be if you had become a vampire - burning up whenever the sun touches you is a little obvious  - but it's not easy, mixing these two worlds."

"Do you still keep in touch with your family?"

Maia stiffens. "No, but that's more on them then my transformation."

Alec nods. "Okay. Am I allowed to tell them?"

Not telling Jace, Izzy, Max or his mum isn't really an option for him - but, he would rather not be dragged up before some supernatural law court.

Maia shrugs. Her burgundy boots clack against the grey speckled linoleum floor. "You can if you want."

Alec sighs, and listens half-heartedly to a complex discussion of werewolf politics and abilities.

She is nearly finished when she reaches the topic of soulmates.

"You are allowed to tell your soulmate about the Shadow World," she says.

The scars on her neck are silver. He wonders if they cover up her words.

"Though," she continues, with an all too casual shrug, "they are often a member of the Shadow World themselves."

Alec nods.

And tries to not think of the burning of his ribs when he last saw Magnus, and what it all may mean for a man who seemed terrified of everything since the events of yesterday.

A man who Alec may, despite all of this wretched secrecy, be in love with.

.

After Maia leaves, Alec stares at the ceiling.

"All this secrecy - is that why Magnus didn't tell me he's a warlock when I was a mundane?"

Catarina takes away his tray. "Partially. It's frowned upon, dating a mundane."

"Oh," Alec says, trying with little success to ignore his own rising disappointment.

He's had many shocks on the last 24 hours, but the biggest so far has been Magnus walking out, and not coming back.

.

He's discharged three days later, just in time for New Year's Eve.

He still hasn't seen Magnus, not since that harrowing day when everything changed.

Jace picks him up, in the rambleshackle vehicle otherwise known as Simon's yellow graffitied truck, with a resounding thumping hug, worry lingering in his blue brown eyes.

Alec's scars are now a thin silvery red, hidden under his many layers of thick winter clothes forced onto him by his mother.

Catarina said that's a sign of being a werewolf - healing too fast to be human.

Alec shudders in the back of the truck.

"Do you need anything?" Jace asks as they turn into the highway. At this time of night, the orange lights are glowing, their shine reflected on the road wet with winter's rain.

"No," Alec says, "but thank you."

He can't be a burden on his family.

He can't.

.

When he gets home, Izzy, Max and Maryse are all waiting for him.

Izzy is the first to hug him in greeting - she's barefoot, and her naked nails strike Alec as odd - her hair loose and curly.

"Missed you," she says into his chest.

Alec pulls her closer. "Missed you too."

He lifts one hand and waves everyone else over. "Come on, I'm not fragile."

Maryse hugs him from behind, burying her head into his hair and stifling her sobs.

"Mum, I'm okay," Alec says.

Maryse rubs his neck, almost as if she is checking for a pulse. "Honey, I know - but seeing you in that hospital bed was absolutely dreadful."

"I'll try to avoid it in the future." Alec sighs, closing his eyes. "There's something I need to tell you all. But it won't be easy."

He sighs, disentangling himself from his family.

"We love you," Jace says, in a rare moment of vulnerability, "through thick and thin."

"Thank you," Alec says, "but be careful what you promise, for I might be a werewolf."

He says it firmly, decisively, looking directly at his family

Maryse is the first one to speak. "If you are to become a werewolf," she says, because of course, she believes him without hesitation, "then we will be with you every step of the way."

A smile, small and a little cracked, creeps onto Alec's face. "Just not on the full moon," he says.

The relief is euphoric.

And then, it's like the breaking of a wave: everyone crashes in to hug him again, with reassuring whispers and declarations of love.

Alec closes his eyes.

Maybe - maybe this isn't the end of the world, and his life can continue on, imperfect as it is.

If only one other person was here - he may even call this a rare moment of perfection.

.

When Alec wakes up the next morning with the bird calls of dawn, he unwraps the gauze covering his soulmark because it is burning - has been burning, since his worldview was skewed into a vastly different trajectory, and this is his first moment of true privacy.

He hasn't looked at it in ages.

And now, it glows gold.

I understand if you never want to see me again, but you do have to know that I never wished you any harm.

Alec texts Magnus right away.

we need to talk.

Hours pass, and night falls.

There is no response, and he falls asleep alone.

.

Luke Garroway is a tall, muscular man.

He is wearing a sky blue button-down shirt with navy suspenders and a police badge is clipped to his cloud patterned tie.

He doesn't look like a former werewolf alpha. Instead, Luke looks like a total and utter dad. His hair is starting to grey at the edges and he has this ease of talking, of being.

But he is here to take care of Alec if a transformation does befall him. And if need be, he can turn into a wolf and control Alec that way, and lessen the blow of what may be a harrowing night.

If he turns, but it feels like a guaranteed certainty at this point in time.

It has been three weeks since he was bitten, and he still hasn't seen Magnus or heard from him since that dreadful morning.

His heart aches.

Alec doesn't blame Magnus for what happened - a rogue werewolf bit him, randomly, on his way home from work through a shady shortcut - but he knows Magnus, maybe loves Magnus, and knows that Magnus blames himself.

The shackles on his hands are rubbing his wrists raw.

It's quiet, the dust motes settling in the dark blue evening light.

It has been a waiting game so far, words and pitying glances.

But tonight, those words will be tested.

"Stay calm, son," Luke says, breaking the stillness of the deepening night. "It's not as painful as the movies would make you think, and I won't let anything bad happen to you or because of you if you do become a werewolf, trapped in a vulnerable state."

"Thanks," Alec says. "Um, I was wondering, do you know Magnus Bane?"

Luke nods, in his fatherly and reassuring manner. "Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn? Hard to miss. He's a great guy. Why'd you ask?"

"Um." Alec bites his lip. "Well, he is - or was, I guess, I don't know, my boyfriend, before this whole debacle, and I'd like to get in touch with him, but he's been avoiding me."

Luke sighs, shaking his head and rubbing his beard flecked with grey. "Sounds like Magnus," he replies, and he sounds so weary, so bone-deep tired. "I'll try to get through to him, but no guarantees. I'm not the alpha anymore."

Alec half-smiles. "Thanks," he says, blinking, trying to not let the tears fall, "I miss him."

"It's a complex situation," Luke says, as the moon's first rays slide through the dusty window and Alec grits his teeth in pain. "Alright. Stay calm. I'll take care of you."

Alec's world creaks. Tilts.

It explodes, until the darkness of oblivion wrought on by agony befalls him.

Chapter 3: gold

When Alec wakes the next day, he is weary, and his muscles ache.

Luke is gone.

He must have had to leave for work.

Someone has placed a thick grey and blue blanket on top of him, keeping him warm as the midday sun, a slither of warmth amongst the ever present coolness of winter, filters into the room through the one lone window.

Still, Alec shivers. It is mid-January, and last night the full moon rose.

He is a werewolf.

And there are no ifs or buts or maybes, not anymore, not after this first tiresome transformation on a frigid winter night.

What is to be done now, with this now certain eternal bleakness? The world of before torn out of his reach, and the world of the future one clouded with instability.

Alec sits up, letting the blanket pool at his waist, the rumbling of a nearby heater filling the room.

If he had any energy left, he may have gasped when he notices the person sitting on the nearby wooden chair with peeling blue paint.

But as it is, he blinks, and that is to be enough.

"Magnus?" he croaks.

Magnus is dressed in a ruffled but close-cut burgundy suit, with tiny golden buttons shining in the weak winter light.

Magnus nods, and he looks as afraid as he did those three weeks ago, when Alec woke with poison in his blood.

"Where have you been?" Alec continues, his voice cracking.

Magnus waves his hand - a flurry of icy blue sparks, and then a glass of water materialises into the silent place, which he hands to Alec. "Here."

Alec accepts it with trembling fingers. "I've missed you, Magnus."

"I've missed you too," Magnus says, with downcast eyes which are devoid of his former confidence and flirtations. "I have been busy - Russell has been imprisoned, and it took a while to clean it all up."

"Three weeks, Magnus?" Alec asks. "Did it take that long?"

Magnus flinches.

"I'm scared, Magnus. I don't blame you for what happened. It's not your fault. But I want you to be here."

Magnus looks up. For once, his face is bare of make-up, and his hair lies flat.

"I put you in a dangerous position by dating you," he says, restlessly rubbing together his ringless fingers with chipped copper nail polish. "As a powerful figure of the New York Downworld community, people look at cruel ways to manipulate me. And you, as a mundane, so vulnerable-"

"I can look after myself," Alec cuts in, "and you cannot hold yourself responsible for the actions of others."

Magnus sighs. "I know this - rationally, but irrationally all I can think of is a world where you are dead, or here and now, where you must resent me."

"I don't resent you," Alec says, his voice softening. "I could never resent you."

I love you , is what he thinks. Please don't make me live without you. I couldn't bear it.

Magnus' hand moves to his side. "Oh," he replies. "I - can I still see you?"

"I would very much like to continue dating you," Alec says. "I care for you immensely, and would love for my entry into this new world to be by your side."

"Okay," Magnus says, softly. "Okay, Alexander. Text me when you want to next meet up. I." He blinks back tears. "Thank you, for not leaving me now that the truth has been so callously revealed."

"Please don't thank me, when it is a blessing to be with you," Alec says, as exhaustion takes him over once more, "and I'll see you soon."

There is the rustle of clothes, and then silence.

.

When he gets back home, a fortnight after his transformation, to a meal cooked by Jace - spaghetti and bolognese - some of his life has resumed to some semblance of normality.

Simon - of course, Simon is here, he may as well live here by now, as attached to Jace as he is - is sitting at the table and chatting to Raphael.

Simon, who lives with his best friend Clary Fray, who happens to be the daughter of werewolf Luke Garroway.

So much entanglement in the Shadow World, that he now knows of it. Luke has been like a dad to Simon - and now, three more mundanes know because of one bite.

And he's nagging Raphael, who, as it happens, is the head of the New York Vampire Clan.

It has been a time of revelations.

Izzy had reassured him that Raphael had told her that he was a vampire about six months after they had started dating: not the full complexities of everything, but somethings that couldn't be very well explained away.

As Catarina had so aptly put, vampirism is a hard trait to fully conceal, more so than magic running through your veins or sleepless full moons.

Raphael is scowling, faced with Simon's nattering as he is. Looping around his wrist are Izzy's words shining in silver: I love you, and I don't care about the rest .

Alec hangs up his coat next to four others.

He's invited Magnus to tonight's dinner: and it is to be an interesting one, no one having to hide anything.

Well, except for the words burning underneath his shirt.

The words have glowed gold for nearly a month now, yet Alec is still filled with this strange apprehension of confrontation.

They haven't met since the day Alec had woken up definitively a werewolf, a member of the Downworld.

Soulmates. What a strange, fate driven concept.  

You would think that it would make things easier, more clear-cut and definite, not more complex.

The doorbell rings.

Alec walks to the door and opens it. It's Magnus - of course it is Magnus, with his silk blue scarf wrapped around his neck and an expensive bottle of champagne in his hand - and he steps in and hugs Alec tightly.

"I've missed you," Magnus mumbles against the crook of Alec's neck.

Alec knows that they are cloaked in darkness, that no one is watching him, so he holds on tighter. "I've missed you too."

His heart aches, and he wants to kiss Magnus, hug him until the end of time, but.

His siblings insist on some sort of social presence and engagement from him, sometimes, and unfortunately tonight is one of those times.

"Right," Alec says, as he reluctantly pulls away and takes the bottle of champagne off Magnus. "Let's go."

Alec can't help but grab, hold on tightly to Magnus' hand.

He's here, and he's not going away.

They walk into the teasing joviality of his family, maybe their family.

Raphael and Magnus have been best friends for decades: for Alec, it is his siblings and their soulmates.

And his, too. Maybe.

Maybe, tonight is the night when everything will finally fall into place.

.

After dinner, after the chatter and endless ribbing has passed, Magnus tugs Alec to the side.

"Um," Magnus says, biting his lip, "Alexander, could we please talk somewhere private?"

Alec nods, stifling the urge to ruffle his hair which he let Jace, for some God-forsaken reason, gel to the high heavens this morning. "Sure."

He's already scrubbed his room down in anticipation and nerves, the navy blue sheets uncrinkled and his mirror shining.

It's not like this is the first time Magnus has come into his home, into his room - they have been dating for ten or so months. But it has been around a month since that terrible night, and Alec feels rough and raw - exposed to a thorough and brutal scrutiny as if his scaffolding, his skeleton, is now on display to the world.

Magnus is a kind man. A generous man.

But. Soulmates are a finicky, touchy business, even for someone as compassionate as Magnus Bane.

They are intimate, revealing. Once the bond settles and sets, it is said that emotions of the other can be felt, experienced fully and boundlessly.

They are both guarded men, with layers hiding their hearts: even in a normal situation, this is not an easy task.

But this is far from a normal situation - he is a werewolf, now, and Magnus is a centuries-old warlock.

"Sit down," Alec says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his too neatly done up bed.

Magnus sits, almost delicately as if he is afraid of taking up too much space, on Alec's bed.

Alec sits on his desk chair and pulls his grey woollen blanket onto his lap, so he can twist it in his fingers and do anything but think of what is to happen, in a few short seconds.

"So," Magnus says. He starts to pull off his jumper, then stops. "May I?"

Alec tries not to stare, to not second guess. "Sure."

Magnus carefully pulls off his dark blue jumper threaded with silver, then starts to unbutton his shirt.

This isn't the first time that Alec has seen Magnus undress. But it is the first time that it has been so fraught with nerves, so full of uncertainty and fragility.

Words, where there had been none before, now curl in sparkling golden glory across Magnus' chest.

"Oh," Alec says, softly. He's not surprised, exactly, but he is scared. Scared that Magnus doesn't want him anymore, that this is his gentle way of letting him down.

Feelings can change, in particular after the whirlwind of a month they have had.

Alec reads I don't resent you, I could never resent you and wishes he could carve his heart out.

One thing he's never liked about soulmarks: they can betray your feelings before you're ready to confront them - to even acknowledge their mere existence, sometimes.

Alec cannot bring himself to meet Magnus' eyes, and pulls the blanket further up his chest.

He's never felt more exposed.

"Well," Alec says, swallowing, "they're true, Magnus. I - I do love you, Magnus, most ardently, but-"

"But what?" Magnus cuts him off. "But what, Alexander?" His voice softens. "I love you, too. Isn't that enough?"

Alec sighs. "I hope." He takes off his own jumper and shirt, carefully with fingers that yearn to shake and tremble but somehow stay steady, twisting to the side so that Magnus can read the glittering words. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Magnus looks at him with shimmering eyes. Tears sit in them, but they do not fall. There's a slip, a blur, and the familiar warm brown eyes are replaced by gleaming golden cat eyes. "Are we?"

There's such hesitancy, such apprehension and hope in his voice.

Everything is so complex, so uncertain.

But maybe this doesn't have to be.

Alec gets up. Walks a few steps. Sits down almost on top of Magnus.

He tugs Magnus towards him, runs his hands through Magnus' hair. "I think so, soulmate."

"Oh God," Magnus say, putting his hand on Alec's shoulder, idly tracing circles with his fingers, "I hope so, Alexander, I really do hope so. I love you so much."

"I love you too." There is no other answer that Alec could have given. "Magnus, your eyes."

Magnus leans back, almost as if he is ashamed. "What about them?"

Alec can't help but stare, enraptured by their beauty. "They're gold."

Magnus takes his hand off. Turns to the side. "I'm sorry you have to see them," he says, his voice now muffled, "they're my warlock mark - I lost control."

"Don't apologise," Alec says, "they're beautiful, Magnus. You're beautiful. There is nothing ugly about you."

Magnus looks back up, and Alec swallows.

Magnus looks so vulnerable now, but evermore so trusting and willing to place his heart etched from diamonds into Alec's earnest but scarred hands.

"I love you, no matter what," Alec says, because if there is one thing he will do, again and again, is forevermore remind Magnus how much he is loved.

Magnus' hand cups Alec's cheek. "Thank you, Alexander." He meets Alec's gaze with his eyes still unglamoured. "I love you - unconditionally."

Then Magnus pulls him in.

A blink, a second of hesitation.

And then they are kissing, like it is the most natural thing in the world.

.

Alec slips back into the freezing office on the top floor of the red and brown brick building, and it is like he never left.

His boss - Lucy, a middle-aged woman with thick spectacles and wiry blonde hair streaked with grey - nods when she spots him.

"It's good to have you back, Alec," she says, "Mark had to pick up a few of your time-sensitive projects, but other than that, business as usual."

Alec nods, placing his coffee down on his desk next to Coralie, whose manicured nails tapping on the keyboard will be a welcome reminder that his life is normal, as normal as it can be as a 21st-century werewolf dating an immortal warlock.

Time to take back some blessed mundanity.

.

Spring comes again in a flurry of new growth, of new life, of rejuvenation and sunshine.

A year has passed since he last sat at this café with his beloved: the chalkboard out front is now navy blue, and the cobblestones are somewhat more crowded.

The same waitress with auburn hair places his hot chocolate in front of him, laden with white and pink marshmallows.

"Thank you," Alec says, unlinking his and Magnus' hands.

Their silver rings glitter in the late afternoon sun.

Magnus smiles, sipping his own black coffee. "Love, do you need some hot chocolate with your marshmallows?"

"I'm fine," Alec says, "it's enough, you need to appreciate marshmallows more."

"Hm," Magnus replies, "if you say so, fiancé."

"Of course." Alec puts down his cup and links their hands together. "Why wouldn't I?"

Magnus' smile broadens, like the golden yellow rays of the sun on a perfect day. "Aren't you sweet enough?"

Alec can't help but smile when Magnus' other hand curves around his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

Magnus may taste like black coffee, but he is Alec's soulmate.

More than that, he is Magnus Bane, Alec's love - forevermore, until everything fades away into oblivion.

Their kiss deepens, and Alec sighs, his mark tingling with pleasure.

Come sunshine or rain, mundanity or the crazy world of the supernatural, they are to be immortal lovers.

Alec Lightwood loves Magnus Bane.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

[orlissa]

You remember I said I blocked my aunt on FB? Since the story has been developing ever since, I think it’s time for a full disclosure.

Prelude: my aunt (the wife of my mom’s older brother, so at least not a blood relative) is a nasty piece of shit, who emotionally terrorized my mom throughout most of the 80s, basically robbed her of her inheritance, and thinks that I should not exist. She might even hate me for just existing, I’m not sure. I was mostly blind to this while my grandma was alive, because the two families (my grandma was living with us) tried to keep nice for her sake, and mom had been trying to keep up the peace for the sake of her memory since her death in 2015, but there have been cracks. Which have been grwoing steadily.

Fast foward to this week. Everything started with the new abortion law in Northern Ireland, which basically decriminalized abortion and gave the same right to local citizens as everyone else in the UK. However, the whole was terribly misreprepsented in Hungarian media, especiall on FB, where a bunch of people were going on how “it was the darkest day” and that now people would be aborting healthy, 28 week old fetuses on a whim (which is downright idiotic). I got fed up with this bunch, I made a post along the lines that “no, no-one is gonna abort healthy babies late into the pregnancy,” “you have to stop thinking about abortion in black-and-white because it’s a more complicated question” and “abortions has been around forever and will be, no matter what happens, so we either provide a safe, regulated way to do them, or force women to abtain them in unsafe, illegal ways.”

The feedback to my post was overwhelmingly positive. Some people even shared it. There was one guy asking me to back it up with sources, but the joke’s on you, pal, I’ve read more on the topic than you’ll ever have. As a subtle “fuck you,” I even listed Men Explain Things to Me as possible research material.

Then came my aunt. She wrote a very scathing comment on my post along the lines of “this is not the place to spew such views,” “she is disappointed in me and finds my views disgusting” and that “I lack life experience to have a view on this.” My immediate response was to delete and block her on FB. Not necessarily for this comment, it was more of the straw the broke the camel’s back. Just to be clear: she has never, ever commented or reacted to anything else I’ve ever posted on FB (my mom was especially furious, because my aunt started with “I respect the knowledge you’ve acquired in certain areas,” which is, once again, a subtle fuck you, and, furthermore, a lie, because she has never shown any signs of respecting any kind of my knowledge). I told my mom this, but she asked me to lift the block, so my aunt could see the response she got to her comment.

Because, oh, did she get response. I didn’t have to say a word (not that I wanted to reply to her comment. I know to rule: “don’t argue with idiots, because you’ll sink to their level, and they’ll defeat you with their routine”). Four or five of my friends went against my aunt, calling her out on stuff like that her comment was “a direct attack on my person” and “what kind of life experience is she talking about? She wants me to have been raped and fallen pregnant, or forced to carry to term a baby that would die soon after birth?” 

My aunt should have kept her mouth shut at this point, but she didn’t. Oh, she didn’t. Instead she basically simply said “good night, ladies,” not addressing any of the points she has been accused of (I’d like to point out: basically none of my friends who came to my defense knew that she was my nasty aunt at this point, since we have different surnames). This angered my fiercest champion, who went and basically called my aunt a coward who picks battles but won’t fight them, and who is being super unfairl to me in the process.

In response to this my aunt wrote a whole litany. No jokes, an at least 1000 words long comment on her life story, in which she positioned herself as the long suffering, innocent martyr, bending some facts and outright lying about other stuff. My mom was snickering about it all the while (note: my mom was watching this whole ordeal from the sidelines, with a proverbial bucket of popcorn in her hands. I she didn’t want to get involved in the name of keeping the family peace, but she sent her love to all of my champions in private). My aunt even went on about how I wasn’t answering her (she didn’t ask any questions, and any response of mine beyond “yes, oh my mighty aunt, I see the errols of my ways now” would have just ignited her wrath, and would have been a not so subtle fuck you). Knowing full well things wouldn’t have gone this far if I hadn’t lifted her block as per as my mom’s request, I blocked my aunt once again, and also deleted my cousin, rendering the number of FB friends from that branch of the family to 0 (honestly, I have no desire of them ever seeing anything I post).

All the while my mom was periodically on the phone with her best friend and one of her cousins. The best friend specifically called us to rage about my aunt’s comment. The cousin, in her usual delicate way, simply stated that my aunt should go and fuck herself. Honestly, my post basically started a family war, most of the soldiers rallying behind me.

So, yeah, by evening I blocked my aunt again. This, along with my mom’s promise that nope, they’re not coming for Christmas ever again (oh, family Christmases is another story I love). But then this morning my mom told me that it appears so that my aunt deleted her on FB too (even though my mom didn’t say a word throughout the whole argument). We don’t yet know abou my cousin. So, yeah, right now a full-blown family cold war is going on :D

[tetrakys]

(sorry I accidentally cancelled my post after replying to your ask, luckily I’d saved a screenshot)

37. “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”

So... I was thinking how to bullshit my way through this prompt too, but... NO! I’m not going to do it this time. There’s so little out there about Armin (and yes, I’ve written only one fic about him so far, it didn’t seem to get much interest so please comment when you like something, so I know and get inspired to write more on that topic). Also, there’s veeeeeeeeery little smut with him, so... thank you for asking me to write about him, this is for you @fuckyalllifes ! 

And for me.

And for all Armin’s stans!

And for FREEDOM!!!

You can consider this a sequel to Memories Lost, Memories Found.

Long story short, after Candy kissed someone in episode 10, she received the memories box from her mother with Armin’s pictures, she got sad and went to get her man back. 

Beware NSFW.

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

It was Friday evening and I was extremely tired. The last lecture of the day had ended a while ago, I’d just been through a thesis meeting and I felt weak, both mentally and physically.

Rayan’s lectures were awkward for me at this point, after our kiss a few months ago it seemed we were on the verge of starting something serious, but fate has a strange way to play out.

When I told him that we couldn’t go any further because I was still in love with someone else, he didn’t blame me, he didn’t get mad. I saw hurt in his eyes but he said that he understood, that it was for the best and we could get back to a normal student/teacher relationship. He’d been amazingly understanding but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. I knew he still wanted me.

I could see it in the way he briefly looked at me in class, his eyes focusing on me a little longer that they did on anyone else. I could hear it in the way he spoke my name, with sweetness and thinly concealed longing. The guilt was eating me alive.

And it wasn’t that I hadn’t wanted him at the time, that kiss had been as real to me as it had been to him. I liked him, I still found him attractive as hell, but I couldn’t deny the truth of my feelings any longer.

I loved Armin, I always had and always will.

As if I’d conjured him by simply thinking about him, Armin appeared next to me.

“Armin!” I cried out surprised, throwing myself in his arms, “what are you doing here?”

“Surprise,” he said grinning like a child, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I took the day off and got on a train to spend the weekend with you.”

I felt my heart burst with joy. I missed him all the time. I hadn’t forgotten that our relationship hadn’t survived the distance the first time, but now it was different. We were older, more mature and in a couple of months I would graduate and move to his town. Nothing could come between us.

“Where are you staying? I don’t think Yeleen is willing to share the room with the both of us.” It wasn’t just a thought, I’d asked her several times, and she’d always replied with a very dry no. I understood where she was coming from, still… it wasn’t like we had many other options.

“In Alexy’s room, he’s going to spend the night at Morgan’s. Poor Hyun, not only he has to share his room with both Morgan AND my brother, but he’s also doing it because I’m here visiting the girl he likes,” he said smirking a little.

“Don’t say that, Hyun is happy for us.”

“Sure, because he’s a nice guy. It doesn’t mean he’s not also sad about it, he’s in love with you.”

“He’s not in love with me,” I chastised him.

“At the very least, he has a very big crush. Everyone has it, apparently. I can’t blame them though,” he added, giving me a kiss on the cheek, “how could it be otherwise.”

“You like to tease, no one has a crush on me.”

“Should I remind you what happened with Castiel a few weeks ago? Actually, now that I’m here, should I go beat him up?” He said with an over-the-top serious tone.

He got me there though, Castiel had hit on me right after the party for the launch of his new music video. I went to his place for an innocent cup of tea with a friend, and he’d asked me to spend the night together. I’d obviously rejected him and told Armin, I didn’t want any secrets between us.

“He didn’t know we’d gotten back together, and I told you he apologised. Why am I even trying to reassure you? You’ve never felt jealous a moment in your life, and you’d never get in a fight, not a real one at least, maybe online.”

“I could challenge him to a FPS duel, I would totally crush him,” he replied amused. “What lecture did you just have this late in the evening by the way? Alexy only told me where to find you, not what you were doing,” he said looking around the empty room.

“Just a meeting with my thesis advisor,” this got his attention.

“You mean with professor Zaidi?” He said with a grin, but I could hear a barely concealed spiteful undertone. “You and him, alone in this big empty classroom?”

“Please, don’t tell me you care. You were just enjoying yourself teasing me about people who may or may not have a crush on me.”

He looked at me pensive for a few moments, then gently pushed me against the desk.

“You know I’m not the jealous type,” he said caressing my arms with sweetness, “because I’m sure about your feelings for me, and I know you would never be with anyone else.” Lowering the strap of my dress he uncovered my skin and left a small tender kiss on my shoulder. “But this guy… Rayan… you like him,” he said kissing my neck, “you flirted with him,” his lips were now on my jaw, “you kissed him.”

I was about to protest when he added, whispering in my ear, “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”

“What? Are you out of your m…”

My words got stuck in my throat when his mouth came crushing onto mine. This kiss was different from the hundreds we had shared during the years. He was always playful and teasing, now instead he was rough and possessive. His hands started roaming all over my body. Cupping both my breasts with heat, fondling them above the dress, I’d never seen him like this, he seemed to be something in between angry and desperate.

Was he actually jealous? For the first time in his life? He must’ve been going crazy right now. I wanted to reassure him, so I raised my hands to his face, my fingers interweaving with his jet-black hair, and answered the kiss with the same ardour.

Abruptly pulling his lips away from mine, he turned me around, bending me over the desk.

“Armin, we can’t! Anyone could come in at any moment.” I tried to protest.

“Come on, Candy,” he said with a tantalising tone, “you and I have always loved playing games…” slipping a hand under my skirt he caressed my inner thigh up to my underwear, massaging above it with loving motions, “let’s see how fast I can make you come before someone finds us.”

I moaned when his finders slipped under the hem of my panties and started caressing between my folds. “What if I make you come first,” I said looking at him over my shoulder.

He just grinned, happy to be having his way once again, so I added, “you’re going down.”

“Maybe later,” he replied slipping a finger inside me, groaning when he felt how wet I already was, “we don’t have much time now.”

Moving aside my underwear, I felt something much bigger than a finger entering me, and with one fluid motion he settled himself to the hilt inside me. The feeling of him… was always the best thing ever.

I thought he would start moving immediately, but he remained still for a moment, then lowering his chest over my back and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, he whispered, “hello love, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I panted, our lips a mere inch apart. Then he raised again, hands grabbing my hips with possess, and started moving with a quick and precise flow. I loved how the only times he was this absorbed and completely focused were when we were playing a game or making love. When we were doing both? It was magical.

“You really wanted to take me on his desk,” I said when he started increasing his speed, I had to grab the side to steady myself.

“Did you?” he asked, pumping into me even faster, “did you want him to take you on his desk? Or somewhere else? Maybe you still want to?” I could hear a small note of uncertainty in his voice.

“I came to you, Armin. I want you. Just you.” I barely had the strength to reply, I could feel the heat build up inside me, and I didn’t want to lose. I started pushing back against him squeezing my muscles hard, knowing he would’ve felt me even tighter around him. I heard him moan and, with the barest self-control replied, “You’re playing dirty, Candy, with your sweet words and your even sweeter pussy. I’m not going to lose that easily.”

Moving his arm around me, he started caressing my clit and I knew that I was about to lose it completely. After a few extra pumps we both came hard, stifling our moans trying not get caught.

I knew I had to adjust myself and leave the classroom immediately, every second we stayed there was incredibly risky but, in that moment, I was so tired and content that I didn’t really care.

“I don’t think anyone won, we came at the same time,” I said when I finally found the strength to raise from the desk and turn around, seeing him tucking himself in his jeans was so sexy that I was almost willing to start all over again.

He fixed my dress and, taking my chin between his fingers, he looked me in the eyes and said, “I won, Candy, the day you came back for me. Everyday since then is always a victory, because you are with me.”

And when he took my lips again, his body flushed against mine, I knew it in my heart.

I had won too.

[nonsenseandstuff]

The Parable of the Selfish Woman

So this was inspired by this post.

Warnings: this story deals with the topic of abortion. Nothing is explicit. There is no abortion shown in the text. Implied child abuse and child abandonment. Implied ableism. Everything is implied, nothing is onscreen. 

While this might spark some conversation, please be civil. 

  The Parable of the Selfish Woman, or Her Story. 

  The woman was selfish. That’s what they said.

“What were you thinking? Who is the father? How could you?”

Her father told her sternly that she was dead to him. How dare she? She was going to marry whoever had done this to her. She replied that she was not. She refused to tell who the father was. She was selfish, self centred, good for nothing. Her own father told her she was nothing, worthless, damaged goods. That he would not see any grandchild of his born out of wedlock. 

So, the woman set out to set it right.

She had heard of a Witch, a Woman of the Woods. She lived in a twisted cottage somewhere in the darkness. It was said the Witch would trade. First borns are a good currency, and hers was barely a month in the womb. Surely that was better than an older child, already shaped and changed by well-meaning parents.

She took a cloth and laid it out on her bed, adding a hunk of hard cheese, some apples, dried meat, things that would keep her going. She put on her sturdiest shoes. She wrapped a blanket into a roll and took her warmest cloak.

She was ready.

She walked downstairs on tiptoe, trying not to wake her parents or her brothers and sisters.

Her mother was standing in the kitchen.

The selfish woman froze stock still in the doorway.

“Come on then. You’re going and I won’t stop you.” Mother held out a large waterskin. “Be safe. I will not tell your father where you went.”

“Tell him I am dead, should it please him.”

She shouldered her bundle and tied the waterskin to her belt. She did not kiss her mother’s cheek or say goodbye. She just turned around and walked out the front door.

The selfish woman set off. She walked through the village, empty and quiet as it was at this hour of the night. She walked out past the farmer’s fields. She finally reached the woods.

The woods were huge and the woods were dark and the woods were overgrown. Thorns snatched at her skirts. There was no clear path, but there were clues. Directions hidden all around her. There were stones that meant keep going, and trees grown into shapes that pointed the way. She knew all the signs. 

She kept going.

Eventually, she came across a brook. It was fairly shallow, clear water running over round stones. The woman took off her shoes and her stockings and she paddled across. She almost didn’t notice the duck.

It was a young one, with a hint of down left here and there. It was trapped, tangled, caught in a twist of roots sticking out of the bank and floating flotsam.

The woman’s first thought was of apathy. It was not her problem. She was in a rush. It was just a duck.

Her second thought was that there was good eating on a duck. Rich and fatty, it would keep her going.

It was her third thought that stopped her. She had food with her. Plenty for the journey there and back. The duck was young, the duck was small. It would take more time kill and butcher it than it would to cut it free.

The woman sighed.

She pulled a small knife from her belt and crouched down.

She cut the root off at the tree and tugged it free. It took maybe thirty seconds to get the duck loose and the little creature swam away as soon as it could.

The selfish woman sat down under the willow. She dried her feet as best as she could and put her socks and shoes back on. She ate a chunk of the hard cheese and one of the apples. Light was beginning to shine through the trees.

 The sun was rising.

  The selfish woman walked on. She walked through the trees. She walked through the thorns and the twisting grabbing branches.

Eventually, she came to a clearing.

At the centre of the clearing, there was a cat. It was a small thing, scrawny and ill kempt. The sun was high above the trees, scattering down between the leaves. The selfish woman sat down on the bare ground and took a long drink from the waterskin. She wiped her mouth and took some of the dried meat from her bag. Her father had killed a deer a couple of months ago and they’d eaten happily ever since. Venison dried easy and kept well.

The cat approached her and she noticed it was limping. It’s left front leg was malformed, twisted. As it came closer, she noticed its fur was not brown (as she had first thought), but a collection of different colours from light orange to brown dark enough to be almost black. It was just filthy.

It mewed and came closer.

“I’m not giving you any of my food.”

The cat mewed again. It came forward, then darted back nervously.

“No.” The selfish woman took a large bite of the meat and chewed it viciously. “Mine.”

The cat, ignoring the tone of her voice, padded forward nervously. It put its good front paw on her ankle and mewed again.

She went to push it off. She didn’t need to be getting fleas. It fell, tumbling sideways down to the ground. It mewed again, pitifully, and struggled to right itself. When it finally got upright, it darted away, then circled back to sit just out of her reach.

It mewed. And it mewed. And it mewed.

The selfish woman sighed. She tossed the last couple of inches towards the cat. 

“Fine,” she said. “Just so you’ll shut up.” She pulled an apple out of her bundle and ate that instead. The cat darted forward, grabbed the meat and trotted off surprisingly quickly. “Yeah, little con merchant.” She sat there -ate her apple, drank her water- for maybe half an hour. She listened to the birds. It was peaceful.

Eventually, she stood up, brushed off her skirt and settled her bundle on her back. She walked on.

The selfish woman came across a fallen tree, just as the light began to fade. It was as good a spot as any to set up camp. She gathered some long branches, some from the ground, some she took from trees. She leaned them up against the fallen tree, making a small shelter. As she turned around to grab some handfuls of leaves to lay over the branches, she jumped back in surprise.

There was a little boy standing a few feet away. He was perhaps six years old, with curly brown hair oversized eyes. He was clean and well dressed in neat, if slightly worn clothes. He was obviously well loved with his hair neatly tended and the knee of his breeches carefully patched. The selfish woman glanced around, but there was no family in sight. Just a child standing in the middle of the forest.

“Hello.” She crouched down so she was at his level. “Are you lost?”

The boy said nothing.

“Cat got your tongue?” she smiled. “One of my sisters is shy too. She’s about your age. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The boy said nothing.

The selfish woman stood up and brushed her hands together.

“I’m building a shelter for the night. I need some leaves to keep the wind off.” She walked out past him, talking all the time as she gathered armfuls of leaves. “You can help if you like. It’s not safe to travel the forest at night. We’ll stay here for now and in the morning I’ll help you find your family.” She layered the leaves carefully, adding more sticks and branches to keep the leaves in place.

The boy stood still and said nothing.

The selfish woman sat down beside her shelter and pulled her bundle around to her lap.

“I’ve got some food here. Are you hungry?” The boy didn’t respond. “You are a quiet one aren’t you? You are a real boy aren’t you? Not some ghast or haunt sent to scare me?”

The boy giggled.

“Oh, not a ghast at all, I’ve never heard of a giggling ghast!” The selfish woman held out an apple. “Catch!” She tossed it to the boy and he rubbed it on his shirt before taking a bite. As he chewed, he came slowly over and sat about a foot away from her. They ate for a while in silence.

“Do you live near here?” the woman asked. “I am from the village of Redstone, back that way.” The boy shrugged. “Very well. I am on my way to see the Woman of the Woods. You can come with me, if you like, and then we will try and find your home.”

The boy shrugged again.

The selfish woman shared some bread and cheese with the boy, and they both drank some of the water. Then, the woman wrapped the boy in her only blanket and the two of them lay down in the shelter and slept.

When the woman awoke, she was alone.

The selfish woman set her bundle on her shoulder, and walked through the forest. She called and called and called for the boy, but found no trace of him. She had learned tracking at her mother’s knee (while father hunted deer, they would hunt rabbits, hunt mushrooms, hunt berries), but she could find no trace of the child. Her superstitious brain whispered that the boy was unreal, a figment. That he had been sent to warn her from her course.

She searched for hours.

She did not find the boy.

The sun was high above her by the time she turned back onto her track.

She noted the rocks that showed the path through the trees and followed them. It was time to see the Woman in the Woods.

She had heard stories from her early girlhood of the Witch, the Woman in the Woods. Her brothers had painted her as an ancient hag. Ugly, alone, and cruel. She was large and had warts and nasty grey hair. She dressed in rags held together with cobwebs and wherever she went crows followed. Women went to her in their direst distress and came back… different. They traded her their children for vain things no woman really needed. That’s what her brothers said. 

Her sister had told her the story of the Unhappy Prince, as she called him, the son of the Duke who lived up the hill and owned everything nearby. He was a smart boy, but strange. He was not as a son of a duke should be. When he should be standing tall and straight and iron hard and still, he hunched his shoulders and rocked from one foot to the other. When he should be staring down an opponent, his gaze stayed down, darting around the ground. When he should be attentive and listening, he would fiddle and flap and… it was unseemly, her sister sniffed.

Anyway, the Duke had tried everything. He had given the boy the best tutors. He had taken him to a priest. To an apothecary. Nothing worked. The boy stayed as he was. Whispers began. The boy was a changeling. The boy was cursed. The boy was not a boy at all.

So, at his wits end, the Duke bundled the boy into a carriage and took a handful of his men into the forest to seek the Woman of the Woods. His men came back after three days, confused and desperate for food and drink. There was no sign of the Duke or the Unhappy Prince.

Two days later, the Duke appeared, filthy and travel-worn, at the edge of the village.

He returned alone, furious. The story slipped out that he had met with her alone, his men arranged just out of sight, and offered the woman all the riches he possessed if she would only fix his son. She took his gold, and took the boy. She never returned. After a day and a night, he went to his men to find them gone also, driven away by some spell.

He had gone back into the forest several times, looking for his gold, looking for his lost son, looking for his revenge against the Woman of the Woods, but he never found her again and he never found the Unhappy Prince.

The selfish woman came to a river with stones set into it. She pulled up her skirts and stepped carefully across. She wondered if this was a wider section of the brook she’d come across earlier.

On the other side of the river was a deceptively sized cottage. At first glance, it seemed small, neat, with a thatched roof. Then she started to notice darker coloured offshoots and outbuildings. There was a fair sized garden, rimmed with hedges, and she recognised plenty of plants (some food, some medicinal). It seemed oddly quaint. Not the lair of a witch at all.

She took a deep breath and walked down the garden path to the front door.

The selfish woman stood on the front step for a long moment. Eventually, the door opened, just a little, and a woman looked out. She was not ugly. She was not old. She was maybe forty or fifty at most, with some grey streaks through her almost bluish black hair and warm brown skin.

“Yes? What do you want?”

“Are you the Woman of the Woods?”

“That is one of the things they call me. What brings you here?”

“I need help. Please.”

The woman in the doorway examined the woman on the step.

“Well,” she said, “I guess you’d better come inside.”

The inside of the house was exactly what you would expect from a house owned by a woods witch. There were bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters and pots bubbling over the fire. There were no apparent doors, which was strange, as the room was a lot smaller than it should have been judging from the outside. The Woman of the Woods walked over to the fire and began fussing with a kettle. She looked like she belonged here, in this overcrowded kitchen. Her pleasantly round form seemed perfectly in keeping with the warmness of the home.

The selfish woman hesitated, then perched carefully on one of the chairs arranged around a small wooden table with a knife and fire scarred surface.

“Woman of the Woods,” the selfish woman said, after taking a deep preparatory breath. “I am in need of your aid. I have travelled far and-“

“Enough of that. What is your name?”

“My name?” She felt wrong-footed, this was not going the way she expected. “It’s Willow.”

“Hello Willow, my name is Mila.” She placed two delicate cups on the table and poured hot water from the kettle. A rich brown tea bloomed. “Here, drink.”

Mila sat down, took a long drink from her tea with her eyes closed in appreciation, and then folded her hands on the table and looked at Willow expectantly.

“I heard that you took children. I mean, that you, that people sold you children.”

“Did you now? What, you want to be away from your parents, child? You cannot sell yourself, you know.”

“I’m sixteen! I’m not a child.”

“Are you not? Well then, what brings you to me?”

Willow took a long, slow breath. “What do you do with the children you take?”

“Ah, I thought that was it. You come here, no child with you, yet with child.” Mila sipped her tea and leaned back in her chair.  “You have three options. Well, mayhaps you have more than three, but three is traditional.”

“What are they?”

“First, you go home. You bear the child. You marry the boy. You live… maybe not happy, but settled, ever after. This is both the easiest and the hardest option.”

“I don’t want that. I’m not ready. I’ve got so much to do, and I… I’m fifth of nine. And it could have been twelve. I heard her scream in her child-bed. I saw the blood and the pain, and how she suffered for months after, if she didn’t fall pregnant again straight away. And the boy is nice. We have fun. But this wasn’t supposed to happen.” Willow looked down, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I don’t know that I love him.”

“Very well. The second choice is to stay here. To wait out your time and bear the child. I will take it off your hands and raise it as one of my own.”

To live here, on the Witch’s charity, her generosity? She didn’t want to take advantage. It would be wrong to take her charity, to live her for nine months, to hand the infant over at it’s birth. And could she hand a baby over to a stranger? There were plenty of stories about the Woman in the Woods. That she cooked the children she took and ate them, that she could turn dirt into diamonds, that she was under no man’s control.

“What,” Willow asked, “happened to the Unhappy Prince?”

“The who now?”

“It’s what my sister calls him,” Willow frowned. “The son of the Duke. You took his money and you took him and you wouldn’t give him back.”

“Ah.”  Mila stood up, pressing a hand to her lower back and stretching. “Come on then.”

The Woman of the Woods led the way over to a heavy set of shelves against the wall, full of jars and bottles of all sorts of interesting things. Mila reached out and took hold of something, Willow couldn’t quite see what, and tugged. The whole shelves swung open.

Behind it was an absolutely huge room, filled with light and activity. There were children everywhere. Toddlers with dolls, young kids running around, older ones looking after the little ones, or sitting reading, or… there were so many. And this wasn’t a place of fear and deprivation as Willow had feared. These children were happy and healthy and clearly well loved. As she looked around, Willow saw a boy with clouded eyes being led by another, a pair of girls silently talking with their hands, a child in a wheeled chair propelling themselves along. These were the children sold to the Witch of the Woods.

And they were happy. They were wonderful. And this place was kind.

“Follow me,” Mila said. She led the way into the space, pausing to give the children they passed her attention. She listened to them and hugged them and tickled them and it was clear that they loved her and she loved them. Willow stayed close behind her and she managed to give the children nervous smiles of her own.

“His name is Edvard.” Mila ducked through a curtained archway and into a smaller second room. This room was darker, but full of soft textures and warmth. Again, there were many children and a handful of young adults. Mila led Willow to a corner where a young man was sitting. He looked a few years older than Willow, and he was closely focused on something he was working on. He was knitting, with a thick strand of purple wool wrapped around in a complicated pattern. It looked like he was maybe making a jumper, and he hummed tunelessly as he stitched. There was a cat curled up against him, purring loudly, and a small child was sitting cross legged on the floor, winding a skein of a dark grey wool through her fingers.

Willow and Mila stopped a few feet away.

“His father brought him to me. Offered me gold. Offered me jewels. Offered me wealth and power. He asked me to help his son, to make him better. So I did.” She gestured. “He did not need to be fixed. He is perfectly fine as he is. But he was not fine where he was, with people who only saw a burden instead of a human being. Here, he wears soft clothing and has space and quiet for himself. He is a good boy, he makes clothes for us all. He’s very good at sewing, at knitting, at crochet. He is good with the little ones too.” She glanced over at Willow. “Not what you expected?”

Willow shook her head.

“Can I..?” he gestured around her, and Mila nodded.

“By all means. They love visitors. Come and find me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Willow spent some time going back and forth between the two rooms. She built houses with blocks, she hugged dollies tight and sang as she rocked them, she drew pictures on wax tablets, then rubbed them smooth. She saw a little boy with brown curly hair and wide eyes stroking a calico cat with a twisted foreleg, and she was suddenly sure that out in the garden she’d find a duck with traces of down in his feathers. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. 

There was nothing wrong here. The children were loved. The children were happy. They children were cared for. And it was a home not just a place where spare parts were hidden away (she had been to the orphanage up in the city a few times, they sometimes bought a haunch from her father, or clothes from her mother, and she hated delivering there. It was cold and hard and the children were much too quiet).

Willow had no doubts that her child would be happy and safe here.

She went back into the kitchen.

“What’s my third option?”

“Ah. I said going home, having the child there, marrying the boy, that would be the easiest and the hardest. The third option is the the hardest and the easiest.” There was a small bottle on the table and Mila rolled it between her palms. “You drink this, there is no more pregnancy, no more child. You go home and live your life on your terms.”

This… Willow had heard of such things, whispers of herbs you could take, spells you could mutter. She’d heard of dark journeys to dark alleys and tools pushed up inside. It was frightening.

“I just have to drink it?”

“You just have to drink it. If you were further along, it would be more difficult, but at this point there barely is a baby. It’s a thimbleful of flesh, half a cup of blood.” She shrugged. 

“I know. My mother, three times she’s lost one. Two of those times it was just as though her monthly came late, a little heavier than usual, a little thicker. Nothing that looked like a child.”

“Ah.” Mila set the bottle down in front of her. “It is your body. Your life. You don’t have to share it with anything.”

“My father called me selfish. Said I was wrong to do what I did. And maybe I was. But we all do it. Or, most of us anyway. He said the child would just be a drain. That if I refused to marry, he wouldn’t see me anymore. I wouldn’t be his daughter. The child would be nothing but a parasite on the family.”

“Hmm.”

“But wouldn’t this be selfish too? Aren’t I being selfish to want… well, to want.”

“My dear,” Mila said firmly. “Every human being is selfish. From the peasant boy who came here begging me to change his fortune, to the Duke who asked me to ‘fix’ his son. It’s human nature.” She rapped her fingers on the table top. “Don’t let that shape your decision. You have three options.”

Willow sat in thought for a long time.  Three options, all of them wrong. If she took her child home, she was just creating another mouth to feed. If she left the child here, she was taking advantage, she was giving someone else a burden. If she drank the potion, she was putting her own wishes above her child. Selfish, selfish, selfish. Whatever she did, she would be castigated.

She thought about going home. She thought about living here for nine months, her body swelling and changing. She thought about the bottle of potion being offered to her.

Her head came up, her eyes steely, her hands steady.

“I have made my decision,” she said.

[saturniidaze]

I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY, PLEASE READ AND/OR REBLOG!

Okay, so listen, I’ve been meaning to avoid doing this, but I’m really worked up over something. I hate to do this, but I really think you all should know. I know this is going to make me seem like the bad guy, but there is a person on tumblr in the Cars fandom reposting other people’s artwork without asking for permission or giving them credit. They’ve also abused me, and a few of my friends.

They are @sallyxmcqueen95301 . (And no, I don’t care if you see this, SallyxMcQueen95301, what you’re doing is wrong! What you did to me and my friends was wrong too!) I really, really don’t want to start drama in the Cars fandom, and I apologize if I end up doing that, but I’m really worked up over this.

SallyxMcQueen95301 has been stealing and reposting other people’s artwork without asking for permission or giving them credit, including art from me. 

 This is MY drawing of Siddeley from Cars 2 with the rest of the image including my signature cropped out. 

This is the complete image on my Deviantart: https://bavv123.deviantart.com/art/Stanley-Siddely-Sheriff-Sarge-Sally-and-stars-699392331

If you look at the images of Siddeley (the jet plane you see in the pictures if you haven’t watched Cars 2 or don’t recognize him), you’ll see they are exactly the same. BECAUSE THEY ARE. This is MY drawing, and SallyxMcQueen reposted it.  

They have also stolen artwork from many other people without asking for permission, crediting, or even posting the source. 

She also stole my drawing of Holley Shiftwell:

 Again, she cropped out my signature.

She’s also mistreated me and my friends. (CONTENT WARNING: Self harm, suicide, or rather, SallyxMcQueen was JOKING about it)

She harassed my friend @agent---starfire by trying to show her a NSFW picture, sent her multiple messages asking her to RP something NSFW because she was “sad” and when Star said no, SallyyxMcQueen threatened to cut herself. She sent her a message asking why her sister (my friend @agentsandracartrip) had blocked her when she “did nothing wrong” and when Star blocked her, she sent the same thing to her ask box. Nothing wrong MY REAR END! Note that Starfire and I are BOTH minors. We’re both underage for pornographic content and we don’t even WANT to see it.

She also harassed my friend @agentsandracartrip and FORCED her into a humanized, Finn/Holley NSFW roleplay. No offense to Finn/Holley shippers is intended, but Sandra doesn’t even ship Finn/Holley and never even wanted to do a NSFW HUMAN roleplay in the first place. Sandra is not a minor, but she didn’t even want to do NSFW.

@sallyxmcqueen95301 harassed both of them along with me when we weren’t available for roleplaying due to life, schoolwork and bad internet. She’d send us about 20 messages at once begging us to rp long and as time went on she would threaten to kill or harm herself along with deleting her tumblr just because we couldn’t roleplay.

Here are some messages she sent me in February:

Our chat that month started out fairly happy like this. She was sending me all sorts of pictures and I asked her if she wanted to see some of mine.

 (Not roleplay in three months? Mind you we met in January)

(I know it seems like I was being over dramatic, but I have fiends who have self harmed before, so this sent me into a panic because I didn’t want it to escalate into something worse.)

(LOL?)

(YOU DON’T JOKE ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS GENIUS)

(She asked me if I was angry after she sent that pic, but I didn’t get a screengrab of that. Honestly? Very.)

I blocked her after this, but then I saw my Siddeley drawing that she had stolen floating around and my friend notified me when she stole my Holley picture so I unblocked her today.

SallyxMcQueen, I know you’re reading this, the whole world knows what you did to me and my friends now, so don’t you try to say that I’m lying. My friend also relayed this message from you to me before I saw your replies on my post:

“@BAVVfishpotato I dont care!! You blocked me!! So you can just forget that i gonna delete it!, it’s your fault that you dont can take a joke!! So no sorry!“

WELL EXCUSE ME, I’m sorry for caring about you when it turned out you were just manipulating me. CUTTING IS NOT SOMETHING TO JOKE ABOUT. IT IS NOT FUNNY. YOU REALLY DID SCARE ME, I WAS WORRIED IT WOULD ESCALATE INTO SOMETHING WORSE! 

And for your information, I CAN take a joke under certain circumstances. A close friend of mine could playfully call me a farting chicken nugget brain or a stinking egg and we’d both laugh it off. But, even if I thought we were friends before, we sure as heck were not super close, so I wouldn’t have been able to tell. Like I said before, YOU SHOULD NOT JOKE ABOUT CUTTING, it is a SERIOUS topic, so even if I WAS close to you, I wouldn’t have been able to tell anyways and would have panicked like I did before anyways. YOU ARE AN ADULT, AND I’M JUST A TEEN, AND EVEN I KNOW BETTER THAN TO JOKE ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS. Growing older is mandatory but growing up isn’t, and it appears your mind hasn’t changed at all from when you were seven years old. 

I had blocked you for a reason, you know. You were treating my friends and I like crud. Our lives don’t revolve around you, the internet and your roleplaying. If you can’t understand that and threaten to hurt or kill yourself because off it when you really won’t follow through, you’re just an immature idiot who doesn’t understand that other people have lives just like you (if you even have one) and can’t be online 24/7.  

And since you’re stealing my art and other’s art and posting it on your tumblr and instagram, I might block you again. It’s your fault you lost me as a friend. I don’t think you were ever mine in the first place. I’m reporting you to tumblr, @sallyxmcqueen95301. 

[veterveter]

Hey hey, it's gay bike anon again! I'm more than honoured to get my own tag!!! I definitely would like to keep talking to you <3 And only love for you too <3

I'll gladly wait for your response to my ask (or asks??? we'll see one day ehehehe)! I feel you, when people cite some of my text messages from a few months (or more) ago I'm often like "nope, nah-ah, that's not me, you're wrong". Same for older essays, I often can't believe I wrote those. And even with things I wrote late at night a few weeks ago, sometimes I'm like "I wrote that? That monstrosity??? Okay, I need more sleep before writing". (My capacity of writing in correct English grammar usually goes to sleep before I do, same goes for varied word choice). But sometimes I'll see this project I've worked on YEARS ago and exactly recognize the pieces I wrote? Since the ask would be fairly recent, I suppose I would recognise my writing style and word choice and since I didn't wrote it whilst sleep deprived (I hope??) I'm setting my chances of recognising it pretty high. But we'll see one day, the mystery will marinate for a while... [I am rereading this in the daytime, and this is EXACTLY what I meant, at night I make the weirdest word choices?? I’m definitely not changing it though because I might find it kinda funny]

I snorted so hard about the way you talked about your almost-name, I'm giggling here like crazy. Apparently my name means something alike 'dedicated to God', but my parents aren't really believers, so gotta love that. The meaning of my sibling's name is 'summer', but I'm the one born in the summer, whilst my sibling is born in autumn, oops. Guess my parents never checked one of those sites/ books where you can find the meaning of a name hahaha.

I love how my ask was so weird and chaotic that you sent a screenshot to a friend. I LOVE that she had no idea what was going on. Then again, I watched the semis (obviously hahaha) but I had no idea what was going on either... But honestly it was peak Dutch culture, water and bicycles, I would just add an ode to 'hagelslag' and voila, the entirety of Dutch culture summed up... [Also: if you don't know: 'hagelslag' is just sprinkles which we eat on bread, yes, on bread, we do not not only eat sprinkles as on cake or on donuts, like in any other country, no, we put it on bread. It's actually a really popular sandwich topping here. My ultimate favourites are the chocolate ones, but you also have them in several fruity flavours (like forest fruit) and anise flavour.] Thank you, perfect chaotic energy is an ultimate goal I strive towards *bows like I'm Victorian royalty or something*

You're absolutely right, it went EXACTLY like that. Specifically, I would be studying for my exams, explaining topics to myself like I always do, so I'd tell myself "The six possible origins of economies of scope are indivisibility, specialisation, marketing, research and development, GUESS WHAT.. SUBWAY DRIVER GANDÍA... ehhh... what was I doing again??" OR: "one of the most detailed and most used models of responsive regulation is Brathwaite's piramid. His enforcement piramid visually shows, nope not important, SUBWAY DRIVER GANDÍAAAAAA" And I'd laugh, continue explaining theories and calculations to myself until my focus started lessening again and my thoughts would wander off again. I am VERY glad I'm not the only one who thinks about it from time to time, and I'm glad you're not suing me for any mental harm yet.

Yess, those pictures I saw from Promising Young Woman look so beautiful and aesthetic!! I'll probably watch it somewhere after the 16th, because I'll most likely have finished my last exams by then. I'll tell you what I thought about it! Thank you SO SO SO much for all the luck wishes!!!! I had an exam last Friday and I absolutely rewarded myself, because it went better than I expected and I passed an earlier exam and a paper too! I didn't buy myself a tricorne (yet), but I did buy funko pops (my inner economist said it was 100% rational because it was a really good deal hahaha). I still have two exams to go, so I could always buy a tricorne for finishing either of those, OR. EVEN BETTER. I'll ask my parents (or my grandparents) for one for my birthday. I mean, that would be hilarious. They'd be so confused. They've never seen S3 and S4 of LCDP so they'll have no idea, even if I tried to explain it. It would be so incredibly funny (and really really weird for them), I am laughing like crazy just at the thought of it.

I've never been in Finland before, but those temperatures do not sound legal indeed. I have no knowledge of Finnish law, but maybe article 3 of the European Convention on Human Rights, the prohibition of torture, would work? If I was the judge I’d 100% agree, so we should all sue the weather sksksks. I'm glad to have brought you rain though (and that I apparently possess the power to do so - magic weather controlling pirate seems like a nice enough job to me)!!! I hope the temperature has become at least somewhat lower. You're right, climate change should just... stop... right away. The weather is pretty weird here, right now: one day it will be super sunny and (at least) around 27 degrees and almost melting away, and the other day it will be raining and I'll be wearing my warmest sweater. Like, why the extremes??

I love that I am able to make you lose your coherent thoughts (that's probably why we have one brain energy about Underwater, because I, too, have the ability to make myself lose my coherent thoughts). I'm glad for your faith in my impersonation of Martín. I even started Duolingo Spanish again, and now know the phrase, "Yo bebo leche" (I drink milk) which obviously would be very important to him. Now I'll just need an Argentinian accent to go with it. Leaning menacingly on a cane would be GREAT, I love the idea. I'll open job applications for a Denver. Maybe my cat could help me, she, much like Denver, is super loud and she is super aggressive towards other cats, so there is potential there. And guiding dogs and even tiny guiding horses exist, why not a guiding cat?

I always assumed I would follow a more... you know… legal... career path, maybe even literally a career in law. But, my accounting professor also showed us how to manipulate financial statements ("so you can notice when people are doing this", uh-huh sure, sure that’s why) and another professor of mine also said that a criminal career sometimes could be the more rational, rewarding choice over a legally acceptable career. So, I suppose I should not be surprised by this sudden change of career plans. I should have seen this coming. And what better way to be able to avoid the laws than by knowing exactly what they are and how far you can go. And if that plan doesn’t work out, the books of law I have (they’re combined in two huge hardcover bundles) are really heavy and you could probably harm someone with them if you hit hard enough… Well, I suppose you can even leave “hard” away, just by hitting someone softly with those books you can bring serious harm to them… Ah, and like that one professor would say: in this scenario it would be a rational choice to become a pirate instead of a privateer. Oh dear, not Arturito :/ Mutiny would seem like a good option, I’ll take over the ship and become Palermo the Pirate. Sounds much and much better than “Arturo the Pirate”, since that isn’t an alliteration, sooo mutiny is reasonable even for that reason. And then there’s the fact that it’s Arturo, I mean, that says enough.

YOU LOVE UNDERWATER TOO????!!!! I completely forgot that you posted that! It seems we do indeed already have one shared braincell energy my friend <3

Last week has been pretty good (except for having to make a test at 9:30, what a godless time, I’m usually barely awake by then ehehehe), I think I aced the test I had, got back some good grades and finally got my first Covid vaccination (and only shortly slight dizziness as a side effect, so that's pretty great). And thanks so much!!! For now I’m safe from Gandía, but somewhere in mid-July I’ll have to take an exam on campus, so I’ll might be able to bring out my inner Palermo then.

How was your week? If the weather is still unkind to you (well, also if the weather *is* kind to you), treat yourself to your favourite ice cream and a break every now and then <3 Do you already have holidays or hasn’t your academical year ended yet?

You’re also right - this is conversation and we’re friends now <3 And I absolutely do like cookies! I would say my favourites are american cookies (though stroopwafels are reaally good as well) but honestly there are only a few kinds of cookies that I don’t love that much. And anything with chocolate in it is GREAT. I do also love apples and bananas, though grapes (which I just had) are even better! What’s your favourite kind of cookie?

Also, I know I have been giving you so many prompts already, but I saw this one in that list you reblogged and it gave me so much Berlermo energy: you live in an apartment with your best friend. the two of you always fall asleep in each other's arms, but one day, your friend isn't there. they've fallen in love with someone else. it's your other best friend, who recently moved in with you. and that's when you realize, that those nights you spent together, weren't so platonic after all. I would love it if you’d write it, but if you decide not to that’s absolutely fine too, no worries <3

By the way, I was going to post this quite a bit earlier, but my laptop (unlike me) decided yesterday night, when I was finishing writing this, that it was time to sleep, so I had to quickly dump this whole rant in Google Docs (it’s almost two and a half pages what the heck) and I was busy all day so I only was able to upload it just now. I swear I can ractually espond faster than after a week :) Have a lovely evening, much love from the gay bike country <3

Heeeeeeey you are back!!! How happy am I to see my favouritest gay bike anon return to my inbox!!! 💕 [Author's note: You can tell I started this reply right away because you've sent me three or four asks since this one and one can tell you are indeed back hahaha]

Yeeeeeees this is how one makes friends!! You know, I was just thinking the other night of how "gay bike anon" shortens to GBA, like the Game Boy Advance, you know. Make of that what you will, but it pleases me to know that you can also have a cute nickname for your cute nickname. Nicknameception.

Yes, exactly that, "I did not write that, and if I did in fact write that.. No I did not." Also, "the mystery will marinate"??? That's an amazing word choice and some day I will absolutely use it for something, just you wait. I think it just goes to show that you should write everything while tired, haha.

Haha I love that naming convention for you. It may make very little sense, but....... but. Also, happy birthday for whenever it is, presumably in the nearby past or future!! Lots of love!! You're the summer child while your sibling is... a summer child, but like, different.

Since you appreciated my almost-name story, I'll reward you with the rest of it: so my name is Tuuli, which is Finnish for "wind". My mum originally wanted to name me Pilvi, which means "cloud". And then she was like oh no this child is not at all serene and cloud-like??? and thus, a new me. I'm glad she had second thoughts, although I wonder if having such an ill-fittingly chill name would've done anything to alter my personality? Nomen est omen and all. There's some kind of an alternate universe where all of that played out, but I'm glad it's not this one.

Yeah either you watched the semis and have no idea, or you didn't watch them and have no idea. There is no way to get what was going on there, I'm certain they themselves also didn't get it. I had no idea about hagelslag but thjipgnhefjpihjo that's amazing, I love that for you!!!! There was absolutely no reason to go there but you as a country just... did that. Amazing. Please have some and report to me so I can live through you. And also, you are absolutely legit Victorian royalty [or something] *bows in return*. Also, I do love how you say "I watched the semis (obviously)." Imagine if you didn't and this entire time I was tragically misinterpreting the nature and intentions of your ask and you were just rolling with it because you've no idea what I'm on about but are also too polite to tell me that. Khhhhhhh

Your brain has priorities!!!! And they're honestly beautiful. Well done, brain. Subway driver Gandíaaaaaaaaaa~~~ My brain is filled with Berlermo quotes that come @ me at random times during the day and leave me just a tad shell-shocked, remembering how it all went down. I'm eating my morning yoghurt and my brain goes yo te propuse fundir oro juntos, and I'm just there like :)))))) Real nice, brain.

Have you had the opportunity to see Promising Young Woman yet? Hhhhh it's so pretty, every time I work on this reply [it's a lot of times, okay, I'm very diligent about this, I stare at this ask and craft snazzy replies in my head all the time, that's why I'm so slow in... actually replying] I'm reminded of that. I'm not a very visual person but the colours and the framing... that was really nice.

I am somewhat glad you've not been to Finland yet, you must hit me up when you come visit, I'll take you for coffee!!! It's actually cooler now (bless!!!!!!!!!!!), the last... four days have been reasonable 14-20 degrees, after four consequtive weeks of 25+. Kkhhhh thinking back to it makes me feel a little ill, but now beret weather is back. I own a lot of berets, dear gay bike anon. I'm going to my university city for the weekend and I'm already wondering which beret(s) I should bring with me. This is an important decision with potential long-lasting consequences. I don't know if you've played any of Telltale's games (The Wolf Among Us and the first two seasons of The Walking Dead are the best ones, fight me), but when you make a decision and the game goes "This character will remember that." and you instantly go oh no what have I done??? That's how I feel about choosing the perfect beret for my city outing. But yes, weather extremes are just the worst. We've been having the longest drought I've ever seen here (it's still not properly rained, for the record, on Tuesday it rained for an hour or so) while in other places there's awful flooding. That's awful.

Ahhh I'm so happy you're continuing your Spanish-learning!! I took a beginner's course at uni in the spring semester, I'm going to take the next one when uni resumes in September. And yes, I'm studying it for LCDP. I mean I love languages in general, but I never had a particular need to study Spanish, until this year I suddenly did. I'm also Duolingo-ing it! Very slowly and steadily. Also, I adore the idea of your cat being your Denver. What's your cat's name??? What do they look like?? Tell me everything, you can't just leave it at my cat, you simply must allow me to meet them. Also, you know why guide cats aren't a thing? Because cats are the worst. I love cats, but you can't just teach them to do useful things. They'll do them if they want to. As I type this, my cat is trying to catch flies at my feet. Her name is Muusa.

I studied accounting for my undergrad!! So I can join you in [[[preventing]]] tax fraud and [[[recognising]]] tampering with financial statements. We can make a totally legitimate business out of it. No but truly, I'm certain we were taught some of those things with the expectation that our future employers would expect it of us. Capitalism is so fun :)))))) And you shouldn't be surprised, academia is but a stepping stone to crime, honestly. Any dark academia book will tell you this. You start out learning Latin and wearing turtlenecks, you end up with murder. That's just how academia works. And you seem to have already chosen your weapon... you're well on your way. :) Palermo the Pirate sounds great!!! I support your mutiny. I don't think I said, but this is my favourite word of the English language. Mutiny. Mutiny????? It doesn't sound very serious. It sounds cute, actually. I love it.

I'm so happy to hear you got your covid vaccine!!!! I had mine a month ago or so - I typed you a reply to the subway Gandía thing on the train ride back, actually. I was really stressed about getting it on my right arm, because I'm left-handed, and last time I got a vaccination (like a decade ago) they insisted on giving it on my left arm and I was sad :( But this time!! I got it on my chosen arm and was very pleased. So anyway, that was a segue. I'm glad you got your covid shot and were side effect -free!!!

My week has been good, thank you!! I went to my uni city for my niece's birthday on Monday, and as said I'm going back on Friday (tomorrow). So this time in between has felt like exactly that, time in between. I started reading Call Me By Your Name. I had my Korean class last night. Now I'm hanging out with my cat (she has stopped chasing flies and climbed to my lap) and talking to you. My holidays started already in May! And uni resumes in the beginning of September, but I'm a tutor for new students so I need to show up three weeks earlier for the orientation weeks. Yes, we do three weeks of orientation (read: three weeks of drinking). It's a bit insane.

Now I need to ask you again how your week has been, since I'm so slow. How has your week been?? Are you free from your exams?? When does your uni resume?

Stroopwafels are so good ahhh I'll have to buy them when and or if I see them. Possibly when I'm in central Europe but haha I can hope to be lucky and see them at a store with imported stuff, you know. My favourite cookies??? Omg maybe these ones - they have this truffle filling, and they're fun to eat (this is important in cookies, you see):

And of course they're Fazer. Because Finnish people have only one setting, apparently. Or maybe that's just me. But all cookies are great, honestly. I like making American cookies, that's always a fun pastime (and you get to have cookie dough, that's like half the fun). I've actually not made them for a lifetime??? Maybe I should, soon. I'll keep you updated. Also, brookies. I love making brookies, they're great.

I really really appreciate being given prompts, I hope you know that!! Thank you!! Consider me pocketing this prompt and maybe eventually some day theoretically getting back to you about it!! You're right - it has Berlermo energy. Insofar as either of them actually have other friends. :)

Thank you for this kind message, dear gay bike anon <3 I'd apologise for my slowness in replying but I think I'd rather you just assume that I'll get back to you, and thank you for your patience <3 Your kind and funny and chaotic asks always brighten my day. I hope you'll have a great rest of the week and just... all the nice and fun and good things and great vibes in life. All the best, dear gay bike anon <3 Take care!! And greetings from Muusa as well - she just yawned and I presume that means "greetings".