#and god help you if you insulted his brothers within his hearing range

[emilyelizabethfowl]

no but seriously if any (or worst case scenario, all) of the ASL actually joined the Marines, Garp would be begging them to go and do anything else, even if that meant becoming pirates, within a week flat

[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”

[kaeyas-beloved]

Be You {Leviathan x Reader}

Leviathan x Reader (They/Them) || Obey Me!

Warning(s): None (Well, actually I make Levi bully Mammon for less than a paragraph)

Note: This was a request I received from someone on Wattpad!

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

Finally, Leviathan’s done it. It’s been a long three days, hours upon hours having been poured into this playthrough. 

“Woop woop! Aren’t I the best!” he praised himself, smiling wide. He’s skipped meals, pushed assignments to a later date and avoided any outside interactions to finish this game. His sight may be blurry and his limbs numb but if those were the sacrifices he had to make to go full completionist then it was all worth it. Now, time to celebrate a well deserved win.

“I think this calls for some of Ruri-chan’s celebratory season 3 limited edition candy and-!”

A chorus of knocks on his door immediately snuffed out his joy. Levi scowled, turning to glare at his door from his chair, it’s gotta be Mammon. The third born is absolutely positive that it’s his scummy older brother - it always is - back yet again to mooch more money off him for a trip to the casino. The usual slander he and his brothers would throw at the second born was on the tip of his tongue, ready to fire at will. 

“Hey Levi? You there? It’s me....”

A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to the second born piping up and Levi, halfway through spouting the first syllable, shuts up all together. That’s his normie. A weight presses on his heart: he was just about to yell and insult his Henry… 

Clearing his throat in hopes of gaining some kind of composure (all previous anger having diminished) the usual “What’s the password?” came out in a stutter. The demon was only acutely aware of his heart beat. How it skipped periodically. How it raced like he himself just ran a marathon. Levi waits a moment for the human to finish reciting the TSL excerpt. His hands begin to shake, his palms exuding profuse amounts of sweat. Gah! Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he’s aware that he’s just some gross shut-in otaku but he shouldn’t be this anxious! It’s not like this is the first time the exchange student has hung out in his room... alone... with him…

“Yo Levi?”

“Yes MC?”

“You think you could open the door now? Please?” Snapped back to reality, Levi hastily opened the door, finding himself regretting it soon after.

“I, uh, MC? What do you…?” his voice trailed off, orange gradient eyes locked on their garments. Immediately he sputtered, taking a step back. A bright scarlet coated his pale cheeks. Levi tried to hide it with his hand, though it was proven useless. The sea demon's at a toss up; should he screech? Slam the door shut? Combust all together!? At the rate he’s going, number three is looking pretty probable.

On the other end of this exchange, the human stood almost timidly out in the hall, fingers fiddling with one another while their eyes darted anywhere but at the man in front of them. The words of the fifth born rang in their ears:

“You absolutely have to wear this dear! My brother would surely fall head over heels for you, even more so than he already is!”

Oh whyyyyy did they trust him? Cause he had knowledge in fashion and love? Yeah, that was it. Still, if this turns south Asmo is going to get a lecture worse than any Lucifer could ever give… Damn, they really should’ve never let the lust demon shoo them into his private bathroom and make them change into this girly outfit. 

And it hit them all at once: Levi doesn’t like it, what they’re wearing. What if he never talks to them after this? Maybe if they leave now then there will still be a chance they can forget about this.

Time went on slowly, like people who walk through mud are, and MC just about tuck tail and ran, what they had planned and gained courage for be damned. 

Levi had other plans though. 

Only now registering that the two were standing out in the open for all to see, in a blind and desperate attempt to save himself and the human from embarrassment, the third born latched onto their wrist, yanking them into the safety of his room. Unfortunately, demon strength is a funny thing and Levi had handled them with more force than he meant to, the human crashing into his chest - hard. 

Perhaps it was instinct -- a need to protect the fragile being within his grasp -- but the demon's arm found purchase around their form, pulling them almost impossibly closer as they tipped. The pair, balance long gone, toppled over, landing with a thud.

Somehow, just like in all the romance anime he’s watched, Levi found himself hovering over them, arms propped on either side of their head. Their noses brushed, both staring frozen into each other's eyes. It wasn’t everyday that either of them were this close to one another, the exception being when the duo falls asleep playing video games. God, with this kind of proximity he was sure that the normie could hear how fast his meek heart was pounding. If this went on any longer he might actually die.

“Levi?” They whispered, their voice so quiet that he almost missed the call of his name. He however did catch their whisper and tensed up before coming back to the here and now, catching sight of the ‘what’ that led to their current position. Standing, Levi’s face burned hotter than ever before.

‘It was all because of them,’ he thought, turning away turning away with tense shoulders as he still tries to mask the red that licked all the way up to his ears. ‘It’s always their fault when I start to feel like I do now!’

“S-stupid n-normie! Why are you even wearing that?” he asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder. Levi did have to admit… they looked kinda cute in those clothes… and it looked like something Ruri-chan would wear too… 

Gah! No no no focus Levi!

The ‘normie’ didn’t answer right away, instead raising to their feet and opting to grab a bag from beside the door. That wasn’t there before. 

“Asmo…” they sighed, turning back to face the demon, nervousness swirling within them. Now or never, “Asmo said you’d like it if I wore something like this” So this is Asmo’s doing? Damn him… “Anyway, here, take it.”

“Wha-?” A shimmering gift bag the same colour of the water Henry his goldfish swam in was thrust into his hands, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat. 

A present? For him? Oh why must a no good otaku like him have to go through such an intimate endeavor???? He just can’t take it! 

Then again, this was like that one scene from season 2 ep. 22 of this anime he binged: I Forget Important Dates all the time which causes me to get into really awkward situations. This time I forgot about my Birthday and my Crush handed me a bag before confessing their love for me!

So-! Spurred on by fictional characters and MC’s urging “go on, open it”, Levi tore the tape, presented with his spontaneous gift: a popular multiplayer game from the human world; one near impossible to get in Devildom.

“WHAOOO!” MC couldn’t help but think how much he’s acting like a kid on Christmas, the notion cute in their opinion. The human stood still for a couple minutes, allowing their friend to rant and gush over the game (and how cool they were for even acquiring it).

“But…” the purple haired demon calmed down, “why did you suddenly give me this?” What? Did he not know what today was?

“It’s… it is your birthday isn’t it!?” Don’t tell them Asmo lied to them about Levi’s birthday!

Levi pulled out his phone, his eyes widening to the size of saucers, “No, it is my birthday,” he assured. With all the gaming he was doing he must've failed to noticed, which is strange considering the last time his special day drew near he practically counted down the days. 

“MC.” He got their attention, looking them right in the eye, his words and actions portraying a sureness and sincerity, “Thank you and…” As quick as lightning strikes the ground, the human had themselves pulled flush against Levi once more, his head resting on their shoulder and nose buried in the crook of their neck. His hair, so soft and fluffy, left a ticklish sensation on their skin.

“And about what you said before. With Asmo. I do like what you’re wearing but…” he tightens his hold, “I like you just the way you are. I know you don’t usually dress like this and I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable, like how you make me. If that means dressing tomboy-ish then so be it. I want you to be you: the human only you can be: my Henry.” 

“I’m glad you feel that way…” They smiled, arms wrapping around his torso. They hope their gratitude is able to shine through in the hug, “Now, ya wanna play your new game?”

“Yes!” He smiled, pulling back and raising his hand. They return the grin, suppressing a chuckle seeing as the demon reminded them of the YES demoji. “Oh, but um! Would you like to change first? It’s not that I don’t like seeing you dressed like that or anything but like I said I want you to be comfortable but also I don’t think my heart can take it anymore… wait that’s not what I meant!” That made them chuckle though.

“Do I have to?” They teased, enjoying the reaction they got out of the third born. Levi gulped, ducking his head while whispering a small no. “Then maybe I’ll stay like this a little longer. It is your birthday after all.” Tugging the envy demon towards their usual gaming spot they let Levi set up the game before the two plopped down in their spots.

“Oh and Levi?” He hummed, tilting his head, the light of the screen illuminating the side of his face. They hugged him once more, “Happy Birthday”

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

[Masterlist]

Thank you for reading!

[dropssofjupitter]

The American

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader [Platonic] , George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader [Semi-slowburn]

Summary: A new transfer student is welcomed to Hogwarts during the politically tense times that have befallen the wizarding kingdom. And despite their better judgement and the new (and frankly horrifying) DADA teacher, the twins can’t seem to get her out of their mind

Word Count: 2.5 k 

Warnings: Umbridge (I feel like that’s enough said for that one), anxiety mentions, swearing (light. maybe one f-bomb), Ron being a lil prejudiced against Slytherins

Next >>

A/N: I took a small liberty with the last name just to help the story flow better, so I’m sorry if that’s upsetting. I am also apologizing ahead of time if I wrote the twins ooc, it’s my first time writing a fic for them! [Not beta read, any mistakes are mine and mine alone]

You took a breath, hands smoothing down the sides of your skirt, twisting nervously in the folds. You could do this. Nerves ran throughout your body, making it feel like it was humming with energy as you shifted on your feet. You could do this. The professor next you, McGonagall if you remembered correctly, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You forced a small smile, turning your face back to the set of great wooden doors in front of you. You could barely hear a thing that was being said, you just knew that you would be introduced after the new teacher and then sorted into your house.

“In other news,” a voice raised from behind the doors and you looked up sharply. “We have a transfer student joining us this term. We have decided that it would be best for everyone if her sorting ceremony were as public as the first years, so please. Join me in welcoming Y/N Jones.”

The hand left your shoulder and you looked up, taking in another nervous breath as you watched McGonagall place her hand on one of the doors, nodding to you to motion that it was time before pushing the doors open. You forced your face to remain neutral, and straightened your back as you walked alone up to the Headmaster in the front of the room.

The sound of your shoes hitting the stone floor caused your anxiety to rise again, but you pushed it down, forcing yourself to keep your head high and act like you knew you belonged here. You stopped in front of the stool placed at the top of the steps and turned, sitting down on it and effectively silencing the whispers that had been floating around the Great Hall.

The headmaster (god, what was his name again?) raised a dusty old witches hat and placed it on your head. The brim of the hat slipped over your eyes, and an older sounding voice resounded in your head, mulling over where to place you.

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

Fred and George had fully expected this year’s welcoming feast to go like all of the others. Cheer when the first years were sorted (booing when it was into Slytherin, of course), boo again when the new DADA teacher was announced, and then gorge themselves as they planned the perfect way to sneak puking pastilles into Draco Malfoys food (it never worked). However, they were both pleasantly and utterly surprised when Dumbledore announced a new transfer student. Hogwarts had never really had a transfer student, at least while they were there.

Fred turned to George and elbowed him slightly, a half smirk on his face. “Maybe we’ll have another gullible second year to talk into insulting Snape, eh George?”

George grinned as he swallowed a quick swig of pumpkin juice. “Maybe so Freddie.”

However, as the doors to the Great Hall opened and you walked through, all thoughts of pranking left the boys’ heads. You carried yourself like you were the only one meant to be here, and like the others were new students embarking on your domain, and it drew the boys’ full attention. They only remembered to pick up their jaws when you sat down on the stool to be sorted.

Ron, who had noticed their strange reaction, tried to get their attention through a poorly hushed whisper, but to no avail. The twins were too focused on what house you were going to be sorted into.

It felt almost foolish to hope that you would be a Gryffindor, but hope they did. They waited with baited breath as the Sorting Hat took its sweet, sweet time. After what felt like an eternity, the hat had finally reached it’s verdict.

“Slytherin!” The voice rang out through the Great Hall, and the Slytherins cheered as their flag was momentarily displayed on the walls of the Hall. The twins felt their heart sink as they kept their eyes on your form, watching you as you walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down in between the first years and older house members.

“Oi! Fred! George!” Ron exclaimed, exasperated as he gave up on catching his brothers attention. “Bloody hell! It’s like I don’t even exist!”

Next to him, Hermione giggled knowingly, shaking her head at Ron.

“Oh? Have you got something to say now?” Ron asked, turning his face towards Hermione.

She sighed and shook her head again. “You really are incredibly dense sometimes Ron.”

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

You had spent the remainder of the feast politely talking to your fellow house members, answering their questions and asking some of your own. It seemed that they were all either in awe due to your transfer, or in disbelief once they found out that you were American. Quite honestly, you couldn’t blame them. Yet your anxiety kept you from speaking about it, and instead had you hesitantly picking at the comfort food that had magically appeared on your plate once you had sat down. 

After the feast was done, you were escorted to your room and introduced to your roommates by a prefect whom had asked you multiple times (despite your constant assurances) if you needed a tour of the castle itself. You settled into your room quite easily, introducing yourself to the girls and exchanging pleasantries before unpacking your trunk and getting your belongings situated. One girl, Pansy you believed, seemed particularly kind to you, and you made a mental note to get to know her better. 

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep in your bed, wrapped in the comfortable blankets that had been provided and assuring yourself that tomorrow would yield only positives. 

~~~~~

The next day had indeed started out well. You woke up on time and were able to find your classes easily, and you were also praised by Professor Sprout for your extensive knowledge in Herbology. However, things took a small turn for the worst went you entered Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

The first thing you noticed was the teacher in the front of the room, watching with beady eyes as students casually found their way to desks and friends. Her monochrome outfit looked awful, having the likeness of a pattern you swore you saw on your grandmother’s couch once, and had given her a look that, quite plainly, reminded you of a toad. 

The second thing you noticed was the fact that the seats were filling up, and quickly. Scurrying towards the closest open seat, you ended up next to a girl with unruly hair and a red and yellow tie. She smiled kindly at you as you sat down, and you returned the action before returning your eyes to the front of the room. 

“Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations, more commonly known as O.W.L.S.” The teacher spoke, seeming to punctuate every word of her sentence with a pause as the blackboard behind her wrote what she had spoken.

“Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be, severe.” She smiled, a tight lipped sort of smile that let everyone know she was faking it. With a wave of her wand the stacks of books behind her began to float down the aisles, distributing themselves amongst the students.

“Your previous instruction on this subject has been, disturbingly, uneven.” You looked down as a book placed itself on your desk, pulling a face as you saw the cover and began to flip through it. 

“But you’ll be pleased to know that from now on you’ll be following a carefully constructed, Ministry approved course of defensive magic.” The girl next you did the same, and raised her hand. 

“Yes?” the professor called on her. 

“There’s nothing in here about using defensive spells?” she said, the confusion evident in her voice and mirroring the confusion on everyone else’s faces. 

“Using spells?” The professor laughed, walking closer towards your table. “Well I can’t imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom!”

“We’re not gonna use magic?” a redhead boy piped up, turning the book over in his hands. 

“You’ll be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way,” the professor replied, her annoyingly ‘girly’ voice already seeming to get on your nerves. 

“Well what use is that?” A brunette boy who looked shockingly similar to Harry Potter asked. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be ‘risk free’.” 

“Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class!” The professor said, her nerves evidently already frazzled as she raised her voice. The brunette boy sat back in his seat (No seriously. He could make money as a Harry look-alike) , obviously on edge as the professor took a moment to turn around and address the class again. 

“It is the view of the ministry, that a theoretical knowledge would be sufficient to get you through your examinations which after all, is what school is all about.” 

“And how are theories supposed to prepare us for what’s out there?” the brunette boy asked again, sharing a look with his table partner who had spoken up earlier. 

“There is nothing out there dear,” the professor replied, and at this, you couldn’t hold back a scoff. The professor whipped her head in your direction, and a few classmates turned to look at you. 

You looked up and swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting the professors. “I mean, I could be wrong, but wasn’t there a basilisk within the school a few years ago? That kind of seems like something ‘out there’.” 

The professor stuttered, and a few eyes widened around the classroom. “Ex-cuse me?” she said, taking a step towards your desk. 

“I’m just saying that there are certain undeniable dangers. Especially around this school, it seems.” You paused, hands fiddling with your robes under the table in a nervous habit that you hadn’t quite seemed to kick just yet. 

“Lying, Miss Jones, will get you nowhere.” The professor fired back, a tight-lipped smile plastered on her face. 

“She’s not lying,” the brunette fired back. “There are present dangers out in the world. Like, oh, I don’t know. Lord Voldemort.” 

The entire class went silent at his comment, some turning to glare at him with barely disguised hatred and others suddenly finding their desks and books to be the most interesting thing in the room. 

The professor, after taking a moment to recover of course, changed directions in order to walk towards the brunettes desk. “Now that, is a lie.” She replied in a dangerously low tone. 

“Oh, so I suppose that Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord then?” he replied in an accusatory manner. Gasps rose up from the class, disgust now evident in most of your classmates faces. 

“Cedric Diggory’s death was an unfortunate accident-” 

“No it wasn’t! Voldemort killed him! I watched it -” 

“That is enough Mr. Potter!” The professor yelled, losing her composure suddenly. The dead quiet settled over the class again as she smoothed down her skirt. “Potter, Jones, please see me for detention after classes today.” She said simply, before turning around and starting the days lesson as if the entire exchange had never occurred. 

You sat at your desk, absolutely dumbfounded. You had had no intention of speaking up in class, much less saying something apparently so controversial that it warranted a detention. Yet here you were, in your now decidedly least favorite class with your most recently least favorite teacher. How did you manage to get yourself into these situations?

The brunette next to you looked over with a small look of sympathy whilst your fellow Slytherins shared a not so subtle haughty laugh in the corner of the room. You sunk low in your seat, making up your mind indefinitely that speaking in class was completely off the table now. 

Thankfully, the class passed without any further altercations, and you nearly sighed with relief when it ended. You gathered up your items, shoving the new (and frankly quite stupid) DADA book into your bag and turning to make a beeline for the door. 

The brunette who had offered her sympathy earlier in the class spoke before you could leave the desk though. “Thank you for speaking up. For Harry I mean. Not a lot of people would do that, especially now.” 

You looked up, slightly confused. “What do you mean?” 

She returned your look. “Did you not hear?” 

“Hear about what?” The two of you had slowly made your way to Umbridge’s door, lest you incite her wrath twice in the same day. 

The brunette was about to answer when the redhead who had spoken earlier wrapped his arm over her shoulder in a protective matter. “Is this Slytherin bothering you Hermione?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you in what you assumed was his best glare (honestly it wasn’t very good). 

You furrowed your eyebrows and took a step back. “Excuse me?” 

“I said,” he stepped in front of Hermione and crossed his arms, “is this snake bothering you?”

“Oh honestly Ronald!” Hermione cried out from behind him, grabbing his arm and pushing him out of the classroom door. She threw an apologetic smile over her shoulder at you before turning back to Ron and smacking the back of his head. 

You stifled a laugh at the look on his face and shook your head as you headed the opposing way down the corridor, not entirely paying attention to your surroundings as you double checked your schedule for the third time that day. 

Moments later you were sprawled out on the corridor floor, having collided with two people who had apparently been running at breakneck speed. You groaned and picked yourself up to a sitting position, looking over at the other two boys currently thrown over one another. Great. More redheads. 

Despite your better judgement, you gently kicked one of them with your foot after picking yourself fully up off of the floor. “Hey, are you guys alright?” 

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

Fred and George were royally screwed. Fucked, if you will. 

They hadn’t planned to quite literally body slam you in the corridors whilst running away from Filch after setting off dung bombs in his office, it had just. . . happened. And quite unfortunately, at that. 

George rolled over and off of his brother as he felt your foot kick him, looking up at you with what he hoped to Merlin was a dashing smile as he suppressed whatever copious amounts of pain that he was feeling in that moment. “Barely, but I suppose we’ll manage. Right Freddie?” He asked, looking down at his brother who was still planted face first into the stone floor. 

“Speak for yourself oh brother dearest,” he sarcastically replied as he peeled himself from the stone. 

“Weasley’s!” Filch yelled from down the corridor, running full speed (or as well as he could) towards them, students wrinkling their noses in disgust and turning away as he passed them. 

“And that,” Fred said, offering George a hand up, “would be our cue to leave.” 

Both twins offered you crooked grins, George even going as far as saluting you, before they dashed off through the corridors, quite possibly traveling faster than they had when they’d ran into you.

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

You watched them, thoroughly amused despite being tackled, and bent down to pick up the paper schedule that had fallen from your hands. As you reached down, you noticed a larger and much thicker parchment next to yours. You grabbed both and looked closer at the thicker parchment, watching with amazement as what seemed to be a map of the school faded away into nothing. 

You looked back up at the boys just in time to see them turn a corner and disappear from sight. It appeared as though you’d have to return their tricky map to them another time. 

Smiling at the thought of interacting with the chaotic individuals again, you headed off towards Divination. 

.

.

.

Add yourself to my taglist here

[starry-sky-stuff]

Word Find Tag

I was tagged by @josephinegerardywriter and @vellichor-virgo so I'll combine their words: until, skies, sharp and light.

All excerpts from In Want of a Wife.

Skies:

“How are my accounts?” Laurence took a seat before the desk and Mr Sheffield sat back down.

“All in good order. Your investments are producing a profit. Did you want to make another investment?”

“No. I know that I’ve been saving up money, have I accumulated enough to purchase a property?”

“Depends on the size of the property. Did you have something in mind?”

“No. But it is time to move out of my parents house. I would be grateful if you could compile a list of possible properties within what you deem a suitable price range. I would prefer something not too far away from my family.”

“Right away, my lord. Is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” Laurence rose from his chair, reaching across the desk to shake Mr Sheffield’s hand. “Actually, if possible, could you find a property with a greenhouse?”

“I will try my best.”

“Good, good. As helpful as always.” Laurence nodded and retreated to the doorway.

“My lord.” Laurence turned. “I think it’s a good thing you’re finding a place of your own. For a family of your own.”

“Yes, those were my thoughts.”

Mr Sheffield gave him a knowing look that Laurence surreptitiously ignored. “Good day, my lord.”

As Laurence descended the steps to the pavement below, he breathed in the fresh air, stopping for a moment to gaze up at the clear skies. Florence had been right, it was time for him to find a place of his own. He could hardly reside with his parents for the rest of his life. It was time for him to start making some changes to his life instead of sitting around waiting for someone to change it for him.

Light:

“How did you know that’s what upset her?” Philip asked his sister. “For that matter, how do you know where Father goes in the morning?”

Ella waved her hand. “I know things. Honestly, you and Cecily think I’m completely blind to these things.”

“We’ve tried to protect you from them.”

“There’s no need. I know them and I haven’t collapsed from shock.”

Philip assessed his sister, seemingly seeing her in a new light. Laurence had always believed that Ella was made of sturdier stuff than her siblings believed. Shielding her from the truth was only an insult to her, and would only serve to engender discontent. Perhaps, as a fellow youngest child, he could sympathise with not wanting others to dictate what you’re capable of coping with.

Ella cocked her head at Laurence. “I do hope things work out with you and Cecily. I’d much prefer you as a brother-in-law to the Duke.”

“And your wants should take preference in Cecily’s selection of a husband, should they?” Philip put in.

“When you marry a person, you marry their family.”

If that were true, Laurence could only pray Cecily would overlook his own father. The man was a bitter pill to his own relations.

Sharp:

“Does Lord Eastwood actually know anything about pigs?” he asked.

The Earl snorted. “No. But he doesn’t know much about anything.”

Laurence let out a sharp laugh. It was strange to even smile in his father’s presence.

“I don’t know why he even shows up if he doesn’t know what he’s voting on.”

“He shows up because it’s his duty,” the Earl replied sharply. “As peers of the realm we have a duty to guide the nation. We must be the hands that shape the government.”

Because God forbid anyone but the aristocracy be involved in government, Laurence thought bitterly. It was the same spiel he’d been hearing since childhood. The Earl believed the aristocracy had a God-given right to rule the nation and resisted all attempts of meritocracy. He’d voted against almost every progressive measure put before him. The Second and Third Reform Acts that had extended the franchise, compulsory elementary education, the legalisation of trade unions, army reform.

The Earl believed the system that had existed for generations was in no need of alteration and virulently opposed any attempt to change it. He couldn’t countenance the mere suggestion that the average man was capable of making decisions about his own life.

Laurence dreaded ever having to take up his own seat in the House of Lords, but was comforted that at least he wouldn’t uphold his father’s voting record.

Until:

1st excerpt:

“Ah, I promised this dance to Barty,” she said.

“Winifred’s brother?”

“Yes. He’s a rather splendid dancer.”

“Is he now?”

Cecily gave him a sly smile. “An exceptional dancer, really.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

She threw her head back and laughed at his grim expression. She reached out her hand to lay it on his elbow. “I’ll see you for our waltz. Be sure not to forget.”

He smiled. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”

How could he? He’d be counting down the dances until he could have her in his arms again.

2nd excerpt:

“Mama, are you regaling the young ladies with tales of your youth?” asked Lord Maximilian. A charming man, the Dowager’s youngest son was a naval man and considered to be quite the rake until he’d settled into marriage ten years prior.

“Oh, I could keep them entertained for hours with stories of my youth,” the Dowager chortled. “But, for now, I think my daughter-in-law will escort me to the refreshment room.”

“Refreshments sound lovely,” Winifred agreed, taking the Dowager’s other arm and helping to lead her through the ballroom. Although, by the looks of things it was the Dowager who was doing the leading.

Lord Maximilian turned to the Duke and asked,

“And how is Gladstone’s Irish bill faring?”

“Passed it’s second reading back in April. The final reading will be in September. Most likely it’ll pass again,” Lord Pemberton explained. “The Lords is the issue.”

“Ah, the House of Lords, where good legislation goes to die,” Laurence remarked, sidling up to them, placing himself between her and the Duke so carefully that it was hardly noticeable.

Tagging: @sleepy-night-child, @drippingmoon, @zmlorenz. Your words are dawn, dusk, noon, and twilight.

[tamorapierce]

Tammy's Spring 2020 Reading Recommendations For the Bored

Sooner or later the bookhounds among us are going to start joining my relentless song, from age five on up, of “I don’t have anything to read!!!!”

 I am here to help.  In this space, as I get to it (knowing, as my readers do, that I have no sense of deadline), I will be posting a constant set of collections of book titles by authors my team and I have read and will recommend in a wild variety of genres and for a wild variety of ages.  (And I’ll give a short hint as to the subject of the first book/series—if I did them all I’d never finish this.)  This last is for the many of you who are reading teen and adult books in grade and middle school, and those adult readers who are reading teen and kidlit. These people are for those who love books and don’t care who is supposed to be reading them.  

 Also, you may have to look far and wee, since we will be drawing upon not only recently published books but older ones that we have either read recently or that we read long ago and have re-read or have never forgotten.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you when the writing is archaic.  If you’re a true nutsy reader like the rest of us, you won’t care.

 -Tammy Pierce

                                                        *     *     *

Assume the book came out within the last 2 years unless I put LO next to the title, which means you have to check libraries and bookstores online and paper for copies.

 *     *     *

 Diana Wynne Jones  LO

A generation or two of fantasy writers, particularly those who love humor, bow to this woman as our goddess.  Not only was she out of her mind in a very British and manic way, but with her TOUGH GUIDE TO FANTASYLAND she taught a number of us to ditch some ill-considered tropes of our genre.  If you write historic fantasy in particular, move heaven and earth to track this book down.  There’s a bonus: some of the entries will make you laugh till you cry.

           She is best known for her books for middle grade and teens, but they are enjoyable for all readers.  I cannot list them all here because my fingers will break (curse you, arthritis!), but these titles will give you a jumping-off point.  And remember, authors change with each book, so you won’t encounter the same author with each title as the author you read in the previous one!

           The Chrestomanci books, all in the same universe, in order of story,

                       not publication

Charmed Life  (1977) An innocent lad follows his plotting egotistical sister to live with England’s chief wizard

The Lives of Christopher Chant (1988)

Conrad’s Fate (2005)

Witch Week (1982)

The Magicians of Caprona (1980)

Short stories

 The Dalemark Quartet begins with

The Spellcoats (1979)

3 sequels

 The Derkholm books are

Dark Lord of  (1998)

Year of the Griffin (2000)

  The Tough Guide to Fantasyland is standalone, but is a kind of offshoot of the Derkholm books.  You don’t have to have read the Derkholm books to get Tough Guide!

 There are other books and stories by Jones—I’ll let you find them on your own.

  Philip Pullman

To this day I am unable to call him anything but Mr. Pullman—that’s how much in awe of the man I am.  We’ve had dinner together, talked on the phone, talked at an event or two, done a conversation on audio with Christopher Paolini—it’s still Mr. Pullman to me.  (I was an assistant in a literary agency when I discovered his work, and I never recovered.) He is, in a word, brilliant, and his interests range through all kinds of areas, particularly history and religion.  I could have talked with him forever that night we had dinner, but the poor man had jet lag and I let him go to collapse.  It was one of the best exchanges of ideals, values, and books I’ve ever had.  

Read his work carefully, because what he discusses is never just the story on top.  No matter what he writes, he is making strong points about social justice, human nature, religion, and history without preaching.  He is one of the few male writers out there who can write female characters as people, not Something Different.  And you never know, with his work, where he will go next.

 The Ruby in the Smoke,

book 1,  the Sally Lockheart mysteries

Victorian mysteries with a female hero and male assistants,

           The Book of Dust and sequel,

first 2 books of The Secret Commonwealth

           His Dark Materials trilogy

                       The Golden Compass

                       2 other titles                

           THE COLLECTORS

           LYRA’S OXFORD

           THE WHITE MERCEDES

           FAIRY TALES FROM THE BROTHERS GRIMM

           I WAS A RAT!

           TWO CRAFTY CRIMINALS

           COUNT KARLSTEIN

           (I will stop here and let you find the rest. Most are available as Nook books.)

  Sharon Shinn

I discovered Sharon Shinn with JOVAH’S ANGEL, but a shortage of funds left me unable to pursue my interest (I am an economic disaster with libraries, so I buy rather than borrow) until, with a job and money to spend, I spotted THE SAFE-KEEPER’S SECRET.  It is the story of a medieval-ish world and a small village where a baby was left with a childless couple.  She is raised as their daughter and discovers, as she grows, that her mother is an important, a Safekeeper, the person to whom a secret can be told, relieving the person who told it of the weight of guilt from it, to be carried by the Safekeeper until the owner either decides to tell or dies.  (And if they die without giving permission, the Safekeeper never reveal the secret.)  The baby who is adopted by this town’s safekeeper becomes the safekeeper in her turn.

           The next book is THE TRUTHTELLER’S TALE, about a girl who acquires the gift (??) of telling the truth, whether the person she tells it to wants to hear it or not. The third book is The Dream-maker’s Magic.  The three main characters now learn why they have been brought together over the course of the two earlier books, in what I thought was a satisfying, if unusual, conclusion.

           And there’s more!  I just did the two I love best!

             THE SAFEKEEPER’S SECRET (book 1, two sequels)

           ARCHANGEL (4 books)

           TWELVE HOUSES (5 books)

           ELEMENTAL BLESSINGS (4 books)        

SHIFTING CIRCLE (2 books)

           UNCOMMON ECHOES

           GENERAL WINSTON’S DAUGHTER

           GATEWAY

 Daniel Jose Older

 I was a Daniel Jose Older fan before I was sent DACTYL HILL SQUAD for a blurb (preodactyls in flight!  Of all sizes!  Confederate spies!  Thuggish bigot northerners!  The backlash of Gettysburg and the forced recruitment of blacks for the war effort! And strong, smart, fierce kids of various ages, sizes, colors, national heritage, and skills doing their best to help the war against the slaves, keep escaped slaves safe, duck the cruel managers of the homes and jails where they are being kept, find a half-decent meal, free other kids in trouble, learn who’s killing their friends, and help the dactyls!  That’s part of it, anyway!

Yeah, I loved it.  And there’s at least one new book, and once I’ve mowed though that, there are his older teen books, and his grownup mysteries, with their half-dead taxi driver who doubles as a part-time troubleshooter for the undead powers in his Bone Street Rhumba series.  {happy sigh}

  Edgar Allen Poe

Yes, some of these are reminders of why we ended up to be the readers we are and to nudge us to corrupt—I mean, “introduce”—­new readers to the glories that are our legacies.

­

THE COMPLETE TALES AND POEMS OF EDGAR ALLEN POE

           Here are the greats:

poems like “The Raven,” and “Annabelle Lee”

stories like “The Fall of the House of Usher,” “The Telltale Heart,” and  ::shudder:: “The Pit and the Pendulum” (yes, a deep pit and a swinging pendulum topped with a razor-edged blade will be featured in this story).  

My dad would read these to us on dark and stormy nights when we lived near the Pacific ocean, when the fog came rolling in, softening every sound, when there were no cars driving by and no other sounds in our house but his deep voice and the crackle of the fire in the fireplace.  We would listen, soundless, as he wove the stories and poems around us and the foghorn sounded offshore.

           That’s the power of Poe.

  N. K. Jemisin

I think I began with Jemisin’s THE HUNDRED THOUSAND KINGDOMS, soon followed by its sequel THE BROKEN KINGDOMS.  The series ended with a third book, THE KINGDOM OF THE GODS.  She presented a rich and varied world from the aspects of people of different classes, showing the growth of societies and their formation.  I have a secret passion for society-building and social interaction, and whether or not a book is difficult to read (as Jemisin’s books are in spots because she refuses to insult a reader by talking down to them) is immaterial.  I want the world and I want the characters, and with her far-reaching mind and her respect for her characters she delivers each and every time.  I have read almost everything she’s written since that first trilogy: if I’ve missed something, it’s because I was in the middle of a deadline and on the road and somehow didn’t see it.  I’ll catch up!  This is just a sample:

           For readers of all sexes and adult reading skills

 The City They Became (pub’d April 2020)

 The Inheritance Trilogy:

           The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, 2010

           2 book sequels

Novella: The Awakened Kingdom, 2014

                       Triptych: Shades in Shadow, 2015 (3 short stories) 

             The Dreamblood Duology:

           For readers of all sexes and adult reading skills

           The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, 2010

                       Two sequels

 The Broken Earth series:

         The Fifth Season (August 2015)

                       Two book sequels

And there are plenty of short stories out there.  I may even have missed a book or twelve!

For those who prefer to hear my ramble in person, a video!

[caxsthetic]

Completely Lost

Miya Atsumu x F!Reader

There will be a day when happiness could finally come to his life. But it’s just not now.

Pt. 3 < Epilogue

"You know? I think I never want you to be out of my life."

Miya Atsumu remembered well the first time he confessed those words to you. It was in his first year of high school when life was so much easier. That time, you were walking home with him and his twin after their practice. And after days contemplating himself about the right way to make you his, he decided to just go with it.

It was sweet, how he demanded you to be his. How his thumb grazed your lips to ask for permission before crashing it on yours when your orbs glinted with love. Two people with the same feelings, there was nothing that stopped you from being together. His life felt one hundred percent better with you as his lover. You were together for more than a year, and those days were the best moment in his life.

Yet he just had to ruin it.

Blinding by his pride, he insulted you, stomping on your heart while the only thing that you wanted was just to be there for him. He hurt you, spitting unforgivable words in order to make you go away. All because he was ashamed to face you after his loss, and his pride was just too large to the point it caused him to self-destruct.

Then he remembered how his twin told him about his own feelings towards you, the same girl who was now grown up to be a wonderful lady. You were now walking slowly towards his twin, a smile adorned your face as your eyes fixated on the black haired man that he called his brother. You looked so majestic today, with the white dress wrapping perfectly around your figure.

Sweat kept trickling down his face as he practiced for the next tournament. He didn't stop for hours, knowing for sure he would fight against the best setter in the country. He was so grateful to have teammates that were as competitive as him, accompanying him to practice until late at night without once emitted complaint.

"Oi, Tsum-Tsum!" He turned his head to the sideline after giving a toss to one of his teammates, "Your phone is ringing!"

"Who is it?" He screamed out and put his hands on his hips, trying to catch as much oxygen as he could. His teammate, who was the ace of the team, looked at his phone to see the caller ID.

"Oh, it's Miya-san!" The setter blinked, wondering why his twin decided to call him this late at night. Osamu rarely called, it must be something important to make his twin call him, "Should I answer first?"

"Yes, tell him I would be there in a second." Atsumu walked to grab a towel, dabbing his head with it and wrapped it around his neck. He decided to grab a bottle of mineral water before heading towards the ace.

He wondered what might be the news about, it's been months since his twin released his business. Everything was going smoothly for the two of them. And he was happy, to know that the ex-wing spiker was now battling in his real arena. (Even if it took him a whole year to see that.)

"Oh, he's here! And congratulations, Miya-san!" The ace immediately gave the phone to Atsumu who was now raising one of his eyebrows because of the words that he just heard. He sensed something when his twin decided to call him. He thought it was some bad news at first, but hearing the ace congratulate his twin, it must be great news instead — at least, at least for one of them.

"Oi, Samu." There was a smile shaped on his face in an instant every time he talked with the owner of the Onigiri Miya, feeling at home already no matter how far they were apart, "I conclude this is going to be good news, right? Since Bokkun congratulated you and such."

"Yeah, yeah it is." Somehow, Atsumu could know that his twin was smiling so wide on the other line, "Hey, 'Tsumu." He decided to sit on the bench now once his name was called. He didn't know why, but it felt like he needed to prepare his heart.

"Yes, Samu?"

"She said yes."

Atsumu suddenly felt like he was in some kind of illusion, everything felt so unreal, and he couldn't quite process the meaning behind those three words that he just heard from his twin. He knew, he understood very well, but the other side of him just could not accept it.

"W-What do you mean?"

"I-I proposed to her tonight," He could hear a sigh from the other line, and Atsumu didn't know it was either a sigh of relief, or a sigh of guilt. "And she said yes."

The setter almost choked with the information that he just got. Six years has passed since he let you go for his twin. But he couldn't eliminate the sizzling ache inside his heart right now.

And Osamu knew, he knew too well that the setter never moved on from your love, at least not completely. Every time they talked about you, it would always end up with Atsumu almost tearing up. Even though the volleyball player already tried to suppress his feelings, at the end, he failed miserably.

Maybe it's because the bond between twins was indestructible, and somehow ever since you came into their life, Osamu would become more observant when it comes to Atsumu. So if anything, he knew too well that the setter could still get the aching feeling in his heart, even right now as he shared the news.

"O-Oh! That's great news indeed!" Atsumu's voice broke the silence, "I am so happy for the two of you!" It was not really him that was talking, it was his coping mechanism, the side that he put when he tried to hide his broken state, "How was it? Tell me what you did, Samu."

"'Tsumu."

"Did you serenade her? Ah no, that's impossible."

"Atsumu.”

"Oh! I know, you must have cooked the best food for her, right?"

"ATSUMU!"

The setter was taken aback by the outburst, he let out a long sigh when he realised that he was just rambling. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the tears that were already forming on his eyes. Atsumu never cried, at least not about anything else, it only happened when the topic spun around you.

"I am sorry, Tsu-"

"No, don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong." He wiped his cheek with the towel that was wrapped around his neck from before, didn't want anyone else to see him like this, "I-I am really happy for you, for the two of you."

Osamu was speechless, he knew that his twin was genuine. But he couldn't help but sensed the sorrow that was dripping in every word that just blurted out from his twin's lips.

"Thank you, Tsumu." It was always like this, him thanking his twin for letting you go. Osamu may endure the pain for the first five years of loving you, but now, his twin was the one who needed to endure the feelings for you, for god knows how long.

"Meh, it's all your victory, Samu." The setter was now calmed down a little. He couldn't show how much the information hurt him, not in front of someone that he deeply cared for. Tonight was Osamu's night, for getting your hand in marriage, the start of a journey that may last forever.

So it's not his place to be the victim, it's not his place to show the pain, it's not his place to snatch the joy from his twin. The black haired man had done so much for him, and he must do the same. He just needs to endure the pain, one more time.

"Have you set the wedding date?"

He stood up once he saw you and his twin walked gracefully in the middle of the reception venue. Everyone was clapping once they all saw the newlywed couple finally arrived, looking so happy with arms linked to each other.

Atsumu could only gazed at the two, heart beating so fast as he saw how beautiful you look today. You were so breathtaking, a smile never leaves your face due to the fact you have got the love that would last forever, something that had been your dream since teenage years.

No matter how much he had tried to keep his imagination away, it was all falling apart once he saw you. He imagined himself to be the one who put the ring in your finger, to be the one who kissed you every day, to be the one who felt your love until the end of time.

But he let those dreams slip between his fingers, and now you were standing there with someone that he deeply cared for. There was no regret, it was the path that he chose once he knew that his twin felt the same towards you.

He had no regret, because now the two best people in his life would be happy together.

Atsumu was really lost in thought, his gaze could only focus on you. The table that he was on right now consisted of him with his high school volleyball team. They were the people who were there when you still belong to him, and they couldn't help but feel worried for the setter.

There were tears brimming in his eyes as he clapped and laughed over something that the wedding host threw at the audience. But all of his friends knew the only thing that occupied his mind right now. His smile may be so genuine, but it would show a glimpse of pain once in a while.

Atsumu didn't even realise that it was now the time to dance. He stood up, searching for his twin to congratulate him. His eyes scanned the crowd and looked around at the same time to take notes of the decoration and such — Maybe for his own wedding someday but somehow he doubted that — It's not much around here, and he chuckled because he knew too well that his twin didn't want an extravagant venue, the ex-wing spiker just wanted the wedding to be just right.

But in the middle of his quest, he was stopped at the sight of you. You were greeting your friends here and there, your smile didn't falter even after hours since the ceremony. And when you finally looked up and caught his gaze, time seemed to freeze around him.

He thought you would turn your head away immediately, so he didn't expect you to walk towards him instead. There was a faint smile on your face as you walked, and he couldn't help but hold his breath when you finally stood in front of him.

"Atsumu." Your voice was gentle, greeting the now shocked man, "You okay there?" No, I am not. But he was just silent, staring at your gorgeous complexion within close range. You were chuckling at his awkward stance, not even thinking that this man could ever act like this.

"I-I am okay," He cursed himself for even stuttering. But then he heard you laugh, and maybe him being a total idiot in front of you was worth it, "Congratulations, (Y/n)." The song played in the background as the two of you stood there. It was a classic old song, but being sung by someone else. And right now as he stared at you, he couldn't help but wanted to ask you to dance.

He contemplated this, would it be okay for him to even steal the first dance from his twin? He had a gut feeling that Osamu wouldn't mind, but it felt not right. That and the fact of you turning him down was haunting his mind right now.

"Want to dance with me, Atsumu?" He was now standing there dumbfounded as he could not believe the question that was thrown for him. Even after all these years, somehow you still managed to amaze him, "Even though we haven't talked for years, it doesn't mean that I lost my mind-reading ability." He snorted at your joke. It was true though, you knew him like the back of your hand. As if never to be in touch for so long could waive the bond that was once laced perfectly.

"Is that okay?" Atsumu was being considerate over Osamu feelings, and you knew this. So you had to be the one who pulled him to the dance floor, slipping through the inner circle in between dresses and suits, "Samu will kill me."

"Mhm, maybe." You joked and put your hands on top of his shoulders as he timidly put his hand on your hips. "Don't be so stiff, Atsumu!" How could he not? It's been years since the last time he saw you. And now as you were so close to him, his mind racing for the sole fact that he could do things that weren't supposed to happen.

But the song and the atmosphere calmed him down within a second. You were now the only thing that existed in this world; at least that's what he felt right now. You close your eyes and just sway your body slowly, enjoying the song and dance.

At that moment, Atsumu just wanted to cry. It was your perfect wedding idea, to dance with anyone you care about, throwing the bouquet after this, then ending it with a toast. Just that simple.

"Hey, (Y/n)." You looked up, eyes staring at the brown orbs who was now looking at you with the same gaze that he gave you all those years ago.

Shall I stay?

"I am sorry, for that day." You knew what day that he meant, and you smiled at this, "I am sorry for just saying it now. Years, I am such an idiot." He chuckled to hide the pain, so he didn't have to make you worried.

Would it be a sin?

"No matter what happened, I still want to keep you in my life forever." There's a veiled meaning behind those words, "And thanks to Samu, my wish had been granted!"

If I can't help

"So, yeah... I am sorry for what I have done to you," His brown eyes were glossy now, "I hope you will always be with him."

Falling in love with you

"Because now you finally have the love that will last forever." Your pupils dilated a little when he said those words, not believing that he still remembered the words that once came out from your lips.

You couldn't believe it, eyes frantic as you realised the hidden message behind his words. Miya Atsumu was still in love with you, even after all these years, "Atsumu, I-"

"May I have this dance?" Your husband suddenly appeared beside you, and Atsumu could see how your eyes calmed down instantly at the sight of his twin. He then took your hand from his shoulders and gave it to the happiest person in this room.

"She's all yours, Samu." Atsumu winked at you, trying to reassure you that he would be alright, "You were gone so I couldn't help but steal her away for a minute." He teased his twin, making the poor man send him an annoyed glare.

But it changed right when the grey orbs fell to your figure. Osamu's whole demeanour changed as he was now the one who put their hands on your hips. From that action, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, closing the gap as you put your head at the crook of his neck.

Atsumu bowed a little and walked away from the couple, searching for a drink to calm his heartbeat. With a glass of champagne on his hand, he walked back to his seat, sipping slowly as his brown eyes were back to the sight of you and his twin, dancing in the middle of the room without a care for this world.

When the realisation finally hit him, he broke down right when his high school friends were back to the seat. His ex-captain handed him a tissue and said nothing. They let him cry, pouring all of his pain that he endured for these past few years since he let you go.

It was painful when the truth seeped into his heart. It was his dream to keep you in his life, but this is not the scenario that he had when he confessed those words to you all of those years ago.

He wanted you to be a Miya, but it was his name that he wanted on the wedding certificate, not his twin. This was not the ending that he wanted, this was not in his mind when he kissed you that night.

But it was the best choice that he ever made in his life.

He straightened his posture, hearing his name as the host called out to him. He didn't realise that it was time to give a toast. After dabbing his eyes to erase any remaining tears, he took a deep breath and strided into the stage, didn't forget to bring a glass of champagne in his hand.

Atsumu looked at his twin who was now having his arm circled around your waist. It was a sight to behold, the sight that he wanted to be unfolded as he made the decision that day he let you go.

You looked so happy, in the arms of someone who you were sure will love you forever. For the people out there, forever may be a long time, but if it was spent with the right person, it would be a bliss until the end of the day.

If he could let you go before, maybe he could let your heart go even though it means you have his heart as you walk into your own journey with his twin. Osamu gave him a reassuring smile, eyes lingered with gratitude as he gazed towards the setter.

If he couldn't love another person except you, then may it be, he was ready. Because for him, watching the two people that he loved the most were happy together was something that he wouldn't trade for anything.

He let out the heavy heart that he felt with a sigh and smiled, embracing the future that would come in his way,

"Hello everyone! May I please have your attention for just a few brief, heartfelt moments as we toast for the lovely bride and groom?"

And that time as he smiled genuinely to the crowd, everything just felt so right.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ༶• ┈┈ ⛧ ┈ ♛ ♛ ┈ ⛧ ┈┈ •༶     *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tagged Lovelies:

@benewol @letmeshouyou @nitricflame @vventure @heccingdead @muffins-puffins @miyulovestowrite @nanashinanashi @vlovers-world @proplayer-kenma @kashika @cuddlyasahi @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw @baby-boy-taichi @of-heroes-and-dreams @for-ests @bobothecircusclown @call-me-prodigy @xjaelee @miyatsunami @ncityluvvs

[glass-es-say]

Are Ya Winning, Gos?

“Just don’t get hit by rocks this time, okay?”

“Gee, I never would’ve thought of that.”

“I know,” Gosalyn says solemnly. “That’s why you keep getting anvils and junk dropped on you. We really need to get you a helmet.”

Gosalyn tries to teach Drake how to play Legend of Legends Quest.

Here on Ao3

“Uhg, are you kidding me!”

Drake blinks and looks away from patching his costume back together—again. He’d had no idea how many buttons Darkwing should’ve lost when he’d watched the show as a kid. He’s already had to put in a bulk order for them.

“Ahh!” Gosalyn drops her game in her lap and scrubs her hands over her face.

“Having fun?”

Gosalyn glares at him then slouches somehow further down into the couch.  Drake makes a mental note to include some more stretches in their training routine. “I’m trying to level up my character so I can play with Launchpad and one of the Dewey’s brothers whose character is super OP but this stupid Routerrock monster just! Keeps! Killing me!”

Huh. He can honestly say he hadn’t been expecting that. “Sounds annoying.” He frowns. “They want you to level up before you can join them?”

“No, uhg, they’re both super nice about it obviously but I haven’t really had time to play since before—you know. And I don’t want to be carried!” She punches the back cushion of the couch. “I want to kill stuff myself!”

“Just what every superhero wants to hear from his sidekick,” he responds wryly, standing up and wandering over to where she’s sprawled across the couch.

Gosalyn sits up just enough to roll her eyes at him. “It’s video game, you—uhg, whatever, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Oh?” he asks mildly, leaning his arms on the back of the couch and looking down at her. “You sure?”

“I mean, it’s—whatever, you don’t have to pretend to care, um, but. Basically, I’m trying to beat this big rock monster so my character can get stronger but there’s like, this trick to it that I just haven’t figured out yet. And it’s frustrating me. That’s all.”

“Sounds tough,” Drake says. “You must really enjoy playing to keep going after something so frustrating.”

She shrugs, looking away from him and down at the couch cushions. “I mean, it’s fun still, so.”

“Must be. Cool graphics, too. I like that ridiculously huge sword you’ve got.”

Gosalyn snorts. “Thanks. It was a quest reward.” She’s still pointedly not looking at him when she quietly says, “Do you—um, do you want to play?”

Drake blinks. “Really?”

“Well,” she starts, louder and brasher and attempting at blasé, “I’ve already died to this guy so many times not even you could screw up my character’s stats more, so.”

Drake rolls his eyes. “How reassuring.”

“But yeah, I mean. If you wanted to. I don’t mind.”

“Sure, okay,” Drake says, hurdling the couch and landing on the cushion next to Gosalyn. “Sounds like fun.”

She gives him a particular smile he’s been seeing more and more often as they get used to being around each other and he and Launchpad get to know her. It makes something warm and happy squeeze at his heart—he’s beginning to think he’d do pretty much anything to see her smile like that.

“Okay, so this is how you move around and stuff.” She makes her character spin around in a tight circle. “And these are the block and attack buttons. You can get the menu with this one, but please don’t use all my items or I’ll be very, very sad.”

“So you’re saying I should definitely use all those glowing potion things right now.”

“No!” She pushes at him. “God, you’re so annoying.”

Drake laughs and takes the controller from her. “Alright, alright, I promise not to touch them.”

She huffs and throws herself back on the couch then immediately leans back up again. “I’m out of PvP mode right now so if anyone else shows up you can just, like, ignore them. Do not chat with anyone, I—you know what, I’ll just disable that too.” She takes the controller back and navigates through the menu to toggle the chat function off.

“The amount of trust here is heartwarming,” Drake deadpans.

Gosalyn tabs down a few more rows and hesitates, then says, “I’m gonna set the camera on auto too, that’s probably a bit beyond you right now.” She clicks around, then hands the controller back over. “Okay! All set for what I’m sure is going to be a very entertaining fight.”

“Trust and confidence. I’m so touched.”

Gosalyn has left her character in a dark, narrow stone hallway. A line of torches dots the walls, dragging the player’s attention toward the glowing block of light at the end of the hall.

“So,” he asks. “Where am I going?

Gosalyn lets out a long breath. “Oh my god,” she mutters to herself. Drake makes a heroic effort and stops himself from laughing. “Okay, just keep going down the hallway. No—that’s the wrong way. Toward the light, Drake, please. This is already so painful.”

Drake does not snicker. He simply walks the character forward to the light and triggers the loading screen for the next area.

“Okay, so,” Gosalyn says as the shape of a large stone chamber renders onscreen. “There’s gonna be this big rock monster in this room—that’s who you’re fighting. He doesn’t have any minions so you can literally just focus on him and try not to get crushed.” She tilts her head. “I hope you’re better at that than you are in real life.”

“Are the continued insults really necessary?”

“Yes. Okay, see him? That’s the guy. Don’t let him—”

A giant rock fist crushes him immediately. It isn’t exactly what Drake had in mind when Gosalyn asked him if he wanted to play. He huffs.

Gosalyn hisses in sympathy. “See that—that’s not what I meant by don’t get crushed.”

Drake levels her with a glare. “I kind of gathered that, thank you.”

He taps through the character respawn loading page until it drops them back in the corridor before the monster.

“Oh, yeah, try again. Just don’t get hit by rocks this time, okay?”

“Gee, I never would’ve thought of that.”

“I know,” Gosalyn says. “That’s why you keep getting anvils and junk dropped on you.”

“That was one—that was tw—that doesn’t happen to me that often!”

“Oh, it super does,” she nods solemnly. “We really need to get you a helmet.”

“Now she’s all about helmets,” he says, moving the character forward into the battle area again. This time he darts away from the monster a couple times—but within a minute the character gets hit by not one, but two giant rock fists and the death screen pops back up.

“Yikes,” Gosalyn says. “This is just getting a little sad, actually, so maybe you can stop—"

“Wait,” Drake says, navigating his way back to the starting point. “Let me try one last time.”

“Uh, sure,” Gosalyn says. “But please don’t break my controller when you die again.���

“I won’t!” Die or break the controller, hopefully. “Look, I’ll make a bet with you. If I can beat this guy, you have to start helping me sew the buttons back on my costume.”

“And when you can’t?”

He makes a show of sighing. “We’ll get Hamburger Hippo for dinner tonight.”

She just looks at him, eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“I’m trying to decide if it would be unheroic to let you make a bet you can’t possibly win.” She squints. “Eh, I want Hamburger Hippo more than I care about that. You’re on.”

Drake restarts the character and runs forward to the boss area. Right. No item run with a mid-level character that isn’t his. Now that he’s got a handle on Gosalyn’s specific build a single Routerrock won’t pose too much of a problem. He won’t hit speed-run times, but that’s just fine.

His heart beats quickly in his chest. The payoff for pulling this off is going to be so good.

Gosalyn shifts beside him. “You know, this is kind of a hard boss so you don’t need to like, feel bad if you can’t beat it or anything. I mean, I haven’t quite managed it yet—”

The room loads and Drake immediately scales the wall. Gosalyn stills beside him.

Three minutes later and the monster is dead, stone figure dissolving away into pixels. Gosalyn’s character punches the air and starts counting up new XP.

“What.”

Drake finally lets his grin break through. “Probably would’ve been faster with those power ups you’ve got banked, but eh. Your ranged damage is actually pretty good, though, how come you haven’t tried sniping it while dodging out of its melee distance?”

“Buh—Because that’s no fun,” she says distantly. “Wait—what just happened!?”

Gosalyn’s staring between him and the game with a flat look of shock. Drake sets the controller back in her lap and leans back. “I’m a nerdy kid from the ‘90s, Gos. I’ve put more hours into Legend of Legends Quest than you’ve been alive.” He stands and stretches his arms above him. “Hope you’re excited to start sewing buttons.”

“You tricked me!” She cries, vaulting off the couch and throwing herself at his upper back. It knocks the wind out of him and they both go tumbling to the floor.

Drake groans into the rug. Ow. At least Gosalyn had something to cushion her fall.

“You Legend Quest sharked me! Liar!”

Drake wheezes face down onto the floor. “Oh my god, Gos, I’m not LP you can’t just —”

“Stop whining, you’re fine,” she says, but she jumps off of his back and scurries around to kneel by his head instead. “Or you will be until it gets out that Darkwing Duck himself is a scam artist. A con man. A frivolous fraud who lies to innocent children—”

Drake sits up with a groan, rotating his shoulder. “You really want that burger, huh.”

She sniffs. “What I want is for my hero to be a good role model. And yet,” she sighs dramatically, “I am let down. Literally.”

“Again,” Drake says, “I am neither LP nor a climbing wall.”

Gosalyn rolls her eyes and drops down to sit beside him. She doesn’t look at him, just bites her lip and fiddles with the string of her sweatshirt. Drake rubs shoulder and watches her with growing curiosity.

“Uh, you know, there’s a local multiplayer now,” she half-mumbles to the floor. “If you wanted to play again, or whatever.”

Drake swallows around the warmth spreading through his chest. “Would you—do you want to?”

Gosalyn gives a kind of half-shrug. “You know. It could be fun.”

He can’t help the stupid smile that spreads across his face. “I’d like that a lot,” he says, rolling to his feet and reaching down to help Gosalyn back upright. “Let me get my account code so I can log in as my main.”

She gasps and punches his arm. “You have a main? You know what main means? You are such a cheater!” She shakes her head with mock solemnity. “You’re a terrible influence on a growing young mind.”

Drake chuckles and rubs his arm. “Alright, we’ll get Hamburger Hippo. But only tonight! And you still have to help me resew buttons.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Do you know how to get the Lightning Longbow?”

“Yeah?”

“Alright. Deal accepted.”

*

"...Your character is basically just Darkwing."

"I don't know why you're in any way surprised."

“God, you’re the lamest superhero ever. Even Gizmoduck is cooler.”

“Hey!”

*

Friend request received from GosaWin

 Friend request accepted

[randombtsprincessa]

Bankshot

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Min Yoongi x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 3.3k

Genre: Smut

Summary: Smut drabble for basketball player Yoongi because I’m weak. There’s a plot I swear.

Warning: Basketball player Yoongi, CUTE Yoongles, Giggly and blushing mess of Goongi because yeah, mentions of drunken sex, Yoongi is somewhat subby?, handjob, riding, fingering, protected sex.

A/N: This Yoongi is true to heart irl Yoongi. Fight me.

The senior league of BH basketball was one of the most prestigious, if not slightly overrated college competitions ever, in your opinion. It hosted a number of colleges, both big and small, challenging them into a championship that usually awarded the team with one giant trophy, a photo in the college and town newspaper and then…nada – except maybe something to add to a resume.

However, aside from your own apprehensions and less than pleasant thoughts on the subject, you dutifully went to support your team to each game, shouting and booing whenever necessary. It was a matter of pride, watching the red and white uniforms score a basket and the subsequent cheering.

You also went because if you didn’t, you would never hear the end of it from a certain Min Yoona. Not that she had any personal attachment to the game; it was more of a point of correlation. Her brother, Min Yoongi was the gem of the BH Basketball team and she always went to support her brother.

So, why did you have to go?

Well, because…

The team had won. Naturally, no one was very surprised. It was bound to happen, especially since the last ball had been passed to Yoongi and he had a perfect advantage.

Bank shot…his expertise…

You had dutifully sat next to Yoona as you watched her brother run across the gleaming wood, his shoes squeaking, adjusting his stance and then he was flying up. His powerful legs bent, lifting off and his arms shot straight forward, face intense as he, his team, the audience watched the ball sail, slicing through the air, missing an opponent’s fingers and slam into the backboard, before toppling right through the basket.

The crowd erupted.

Yoongi jumped again, his fist pumping in the air while his team swarmed around him. Hard slaps that echoed through the hall landed on his back and you politely followed Yoona, standing as she squealed loudly, bouncing in her boots.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” She asked later, leading you over to the after party, filled with the team and the opposition, celebrating together to show they had no hard feelings.

“Yeah, sure,” You spied a few members of the team hanging about, booze – duh – in their hands and some groupies – also, duh – hanging off of them.

“I can’t wait to see Yoongi, he was brilliant.” She squealed yet again and you turned a fond look at your friend. You slung an arm around her shoulder, squeezing slightly, “Let’s go find your brother.” You said, leading the way further in.

Once surrounded by the majority of the party, it wasn’t long before you and Yoona were separated. She was friends with a few other girls who (even though the maximum of them were old time conquests) were actually nice. You were on speaking terms with a few but you preferred hanging out with the team.

“Jungkook,” you called for the youngest, the only one unattached ironically – attention; his head swiveling in your direction. Baby teeth appeared in the front of his mouth as he gave you a beam. “Hey, I didn’t think you’d come.” He said.

“Yoona,” You explained and he nodded, taking a sip of his soda.

“She must be with Yoongi. Boy wouldn’t let any guy hover a mile near her.” He said, eyeing the crowd thoughtfully.

“What about you? Why aren’t you surrounded?” You asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Not all of us are like that, Y/N.” He confided, lowering his voice conspiratorially before looking at his glass. “I’m going to get another, you want one?”

He departed at the shake of your head, leaving you alone near the curtains as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through twitter and addressing a few social media notifications.

“And what are we doing alone?”

You had to flinch, looking about to see an uncomfortably familiar cheeky grin near about you. You looked back to the front quickly.

“Where’s your sister?” You asked instead.

He hummed, looking over the room before edging closer. “She’s about. I can’t keep an eye on her all the time.”

You scoffed. “Sure,”

Yoongi moved further into your private space. “She’s with Hoseok, Y/N. I left her in good hands and came to find you.” He dipped his head to your ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You turned your head barely to look at him, placing a hand to push away. “You’re drunk, Min.”

He whined immediately. “Nope, haven’t touched a drink; don’t want you to give me that bullshit ‘drunk’ excuse again.”

You hissed, turning around to see if anybody heard him. “Can you be any louder?”

Yoongi gave you a glowing grin, sending your heart fluttering for a split second. “Of course I can,” he leaned in conspiratorially. “If I had my way, I’d be shouting about it.”

You stared at him critically for a long moment, long enough for one of his team members to yell over for him and with one last look at you and a ‘think about it’, he was gone.

You didn’t watch him leave, instead slumping against the wall, thinking back to how when you’d first been introduced to Min Yoongi, you’d never thought it would go like that.

Endearingly shy and adorable, Yoongi had been the only player on the team who hadn’t hit on you in the initial stages. He’d grinned genially when Yoona had introduced you two, shaking your hand, looking you over like brothers do their sister’s friends and that had been that.

Cut to the day of Yoona’s birthday party, all purple and pastels and you’d sorely been the only one who had found the sight of Yoongi is a purple cone hat hilarious instead of insulting to his manhood. You’d complimented him, squished his cheeks making him grip your wrists to pull away from your hands and he’d given you a look.

You were drunk, of course you were and maybe it was all in your head but Yoongi’s eyes had had that come hither darkness and soon enough the both of you were crashing through the doors of his bedroom, knocking more than a few things off their rightful places.

He’d pushed you onto the bed, tugged off your clothes and made you feel all sorts of way that even now had you pressing your thighs together, biting your lip and shifting gazes around. What was done in that bedroom could and should never reach his sister, just in case she blurted it out in front of their parents…or the entire college.

Of course, when you’d tried to make it out the room without disturbing a dozing Yoongi, he’d lifted his head, eyeing you concernedly. Concern that was ridiculous on his part; after all, you were just his younger sister’s friend.

So imagine your confusion and dawning awkwardness when Yoongi – slightly miffed from your stupid excuse of being too drunk to realize what you were doing with whom – had forwarded you a condition.

If he helped the team win three consecutive games, you’d agree to at least a date. You didn’t have to be a genius to know he meant a repeat of that night.

Maybe you were too drunk to realize your actions…because you agreed.

Or maybe it was the fact, that he was probably the best sex you’d ever had…

Or maybe Yoongi was cute…or whatever, you know…

Yoongi had won two games, each with the precise banks that he always used to his advantage. You had tried everything, hiding behind Yoona to publicly panicking.

Hiding behind Yoona was unsuccessful, seeing as Yoongi had casually spun a ball on his finger, whistling before yelling out a ‘Hey sis, hey there Y/N!”

You had cursed, avoiding Yoona’s questions about who you were hiding from because of course; it never occurred to her that it was Yoongi.

The next was when you’d hyperventilated and hid in the washrooms just after the second game, one where Yoongi, again lifted to the team shoulders had directly winked in your direction.

By god, he had scored another win tonight.

And he was going to collect the prize.

You stood to one side as the team filed out of the showers, steam following them along with mild chatter that usually is not associated with boys. A few glanced at you in passing, varying degrees of unbothered, mildly curious and blatant shock ranging through their faces as you sought the one you wanted.

Presently, Yoongi walked out as well, a simply white t-shirt covering his torso with jeans, a towel slung over his nape that he was rubbing his hair vigorously with.

“That’s bad for your scalp.” You noted drily, making him halt in his steps, his eyes roving over to yours.

“Y/N,” he frowned in confusion, looking about. “What are you doing here?”

You moved away from the wall towards him, “I wondered when you would collect your reward.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

“My reward,” his brow cleared, a giggle bubbling on his doll like lips. “You make me sound like some kid looking for candy.” He paused before reaching out, latching an arm around your waist and pulling you lightly to him. “Although; I do remember someone tasting better than candy,”

You bat at his chest, not pulling away however. “So, get on with it. I’m not going to wait forever.”

He let you go. “Patience, Y/N; It’s a date; I need to prepare something wow to impress you.” He pocketed his hands.

You tilted your head in acknowledgement before turning to walk away. You stopped near the corridor.

“You don’t need to go overboard to impress anyone Yoongi. Anybody would be lucky to date you.” You said, not looking at him and then vanishing from his sight.

Yoongi had seemed to have heard you. Within the week, you had a text from Yoongi, noting a date and time and a simple ‘dress casual’ for you to mull over. You had been careful to keep it from his sister, subtly asking him about what he had planned when all he did was just wink and ruffle his hair, acting too cute – a bit too cute.

So when you reached the lobby of your small apartment complex, his car already at the front, waiting for you; you were a little bit more that curious.

“I have something good planned, I promise.” He said, first thing, revving the engine and taking off, not uttering a word despite your best attempts.

“A…karaoke bar…?” You gave Yoongi your best side eye, watching his face flush crimson as he parked.

“Yep,” he replied, breezy even if the back of his neck probably burned. “I’m going to show you how it’s done. Prepare to bow down to a king.” He spread his arms in the cramped quarters of the front seat.

“I’m sure, cause’ I’ve never been to one of these.” You rolled your eyes, getting out after him.

You pressed Yoongi to the wall of your bedroom hallway, the small giggle that escaped him at the thud music to your ears; hands skimming over his torso while his lips returned to their place against yours. Your tongue slipped delicately past the seam, barely brushing inside as you drew a breathy moan from him.

This wasn’t in your plans. Bringing a man back to your place after the first date – no matter if you’ve already slept with him once – wasn’t something you partook in usually but this was a special occasion.

Yoongi’s eyes were screwed shut, a crowing sound escaping that doll like mouth as he hit a high note. The artist turned in their grave, weeping to their mothers but you smiled nonetheless, watching him with a hand covering it. You couldn’t let him see, he’d just be so smug.

Ok, so maybe Yoongi was cute.

Or maybe, you liked him as well…or whatever.

He finished the song with the grace of a Grammy winner, a flourish added to his bow while he eyed you wickedly as the scores counted.

He won – even with a singing voice that would’ve scared Lucifer – he was better than you. And that’s when you knew how the rest of your evening was about to go.

“Y/N, baby,” he whined, hands trying to grab at you as you left his mouth, your eyes drawing to where your hands were busy getting familiar with the map you’d traced once before. He allowed you to raise his shirt, warm palms against the cooler skin of his soft belly, the line of his sternum, the collarbones that were oh so sensitive and then off his head, landing in a pool at your feet.

You stepped back, lips dug in by teeth, looking at the sight Min Yoongi presented.

Newly bleached hair stood high, too pale skin painted delectable pink, soft bones visible in places. He was panting, his chest rising and falling quickly while his abs was tight in anticipation.

He was stunning and you swore you were going to make him yours.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, hands fumbling with the steering of his car.

“You’re cute, that’s why,” You answered simply, watching him jerk in surprise before pouting.

“I’m not cute.”

There was a pause before you laughed. “Sure,” you stretched out a hand, a thumb swiping over his lips, parting them. “You are.”

Yoongi slowed the car, till it was sitting in a spot nearest the door – you wondered if it was subconscious. He looked at you, thumb still stroking over his skin with a vulnerability that had you cooing.

“Y/N,” he managed to breathe before you were reaching out for the key, turning off the engine and winking when he stuttered a little.

“Come with me.”

“What do you want Yoongi?” You queried, pressing against him again, everywhere. Your warmth seeped into him and he nearly buckled when you slipped out the button of his jeans.

“I…”

“Hmm?”

He trailed off completely, eyes wide and glazed. His jeans were soon slid off, leaving him to stand there in just his underwear, an almost painful looking bulge very obvious.

“Yoongi…do you want to go to the bedroom?” You prompted and all you got in reply was a whimper. You kissed the tip of his nose, intertwining your fingers to tug him to the door and through it, flinging it shut after his entry.

Your room was modest compared to his, no trophies or certificates decorating the walls and shelves but Yoongi didn’t seem to care about the room. His eyes were fixed solely on you as you led to the bed and with both hands on his shoulders, pressed him to sit.

“Y/N,” He muttered again.

“Yes, Yoongi,”

He shifted, squirming and you smoothed a hand across his head, tilting it up with a soft grip on his hair. “It hurts,” he said and you sighed at his adorable round face.

“Then let me help,” you sank down to the rug at the base of the bed, looking at the problem Yoongi was trying not to palm. “Do you want me to?”

“God yes,” Yoongi threw his head back. “I’ve wanted to do this again for so long, you have no idea.” He raised his hips, hands nearly ripping the underwear off of him. The glorious cock of Min Yoongi stood proud, curving just so at the very tip, head shiny from arousal and flushed deeply.

“Please help. Please touch me.” He whispered, prompting you to wrap a hand around him, right at the head, palm slicking in his lust as you ran over his skin, making the slide easier.

You awed at the image. Yoongi had his head still thrown back, throat working as he bit back groans, while a few slipped past, lewd and turning you on at the same time.

“Undress me, Yoongi.” You said and his eyes opened, meeting yours excitedly. He smiled when you gave a quick turn to your wrist in answer to the silent question and then his hands were on you, legs spreading further to accommodate both your movements.

Eagerly, he undid the halter tie of your top, letting it fall to bare your torso to him. He impatiently bent further to unzip the skirt, loose and blowy and you thanked your stars for the choice when it slid off easily, tossed in some unnamed corner of your room.

You returned to your task with gusto, feeling the atmosphere of the room, the tension seep into your skin, electrifying it as Yoongi wrapped a hand under your breast, flicking over your nipple. Another giggle escaped him, making you look up in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“This…just this; I’ve been dreaming about you naked with me ever since that night and like…wow, this is so much better when it’s sober.”

You rolled your eyes, stopping the hand job and getting to your feet. You towered over the man, his eyes once again looking up at you like you held every answer to his every question.

“Why don’t you get comfortable then? I want to ride you.” You said. Yoongi visibly gulped hands confident as he reached for the fabric of your panties, slipping them off your legs and almost reverently let them rest on the floor. He moved back till his legs were straight on the bed and you followed, crawling over to him before you reached into your nightstand for protection.

Throwing your knees on either side of him, your grabbed the headboard over his shoulders as he rolled the condom over his length and lined up with you, allowing you to sink on him, slowly, drawing out the torture for him as he let out – finally – a loud groan of pure pleasure. His eyes fell shut; mouth wide open and his body slumped, lying under you. His hands lay at your thighs, twitching once in a while as you rolled your hips.

Once again, the feeling of having Min Yoongi fill you blinded you. The stretch was perfection, the weight of him, each ridge and vein, everything was hand crafted to fit you. You cupped your own breasts, kneading them to accompany the spikes of pleasure that were supplied by the man below. You close your eyes, tweaking at the hardened buds and stroking over the sides of the sensitive flesh when you felt another hand right there.

Your labia parted, a thumb pressing hard to the nub of nerves that sparked another fire, even more intense. Your eyes flew open, to the man below you. His eyes were on you as well, watching with a hazy fire in his them as he bucked his hips to meet yours.

Slowly, taking all the incentive you could from his gaze, you began to move, your hips rising and crashing down on his.

A sheen of sweat soon collected on both of your bodies, tight coils of emotion knotting in your stomach, matching the harsh grasp he had on your hips, your ankles, wrists, wherever he managed to latch on you to anchor his own pleasure.

You didn’t know how long you continued your love making, exploding once on top of him, again with him next to you and another with his fingers buried deep inside your battered core, as his own bliss made him waddle to the bathroom to dispose of the evidence.

He returned quickly, joining you under the thick duvet with both arms wrapped around you.

“That was some date.” He sighed finally when the slam of a door outside made you both jump, the glow of intimacy jarred.

You waited as footsteps moved about, Yoongi pressed tight to your back and then…

“Y/N, are you in? Whose clothes…”

It was Yoona!

You turned to give Yoongi a shocked stare, his own blinking in contemplation as to how to handle the situation until it was too late because Yoona was quick to scream.

“OH MY GOD YOONGI!”

[lady-divine-writes]

A Change in the Weather AU (inspired by Cacophonylights's A Change in the Weather) - Chapter 29

Read on AO3.

“Who in the world needs three trousseaus?” Sebastian moans, trudging behind his boyfriend, his sister, and his soon-to-be brother-in-law through what Olivia refers to as “the hallowed halls of Carolina Premium Outlets”. Kurt was initially surprised that a woman with the financial means of Olivia Smythe would opt to shop at an outlet mall instead of the other upscale clothing stores within a hundred mile radius of the beach house, but it also made him adore her even more.

Never let it be said that Kurt Hummel does not appreciate outlet shopping. His monthly bill to Rue La La alone will attest to that fact.

On top of that, not only had she invited Kurt to come, she demanded his attendance. “I need you, Kurt! I need someone with your refined, sophisticated eye for fashion to help me in this, my hour of need!” she’d declared with the dramatic flair befitting a literary scholar, grabbing him by the hand and wrenching him from his seat in Sebastian’s lap on the porch swing, not about to take no for an answer. At first, he suspected she chose him because her mother was otherwise occupied (which he discovered later on that she wasn’t), but it still flattered him that she went to him for help in this arena and didn’t opt for a personal shopper.

Going to a mall, doing something that could be defined by uncultured swine as banal, had been a welcome change. Not that Kurt didn’t absolutely love everything else they’d done so far - fighting the tides for their dinner, braving bee stings, nearly drowning in Sebastian’s Mustang …

… karaoke.

And the jellyfish. Oh sweet baby Jesus, he can’t forget the jellyfish!

This vacation started out like an episode of Survivor: North Carolina Edition, and even though it isn’t over, Kurt has nothing to worry about because he’s already won the grand prize. But walking into this plucky haven of discounted commerce, with it’s bright, white, artificial lighting and grainy, outdated music piped over the speakers feels like returning to the familiar. Breathing the recycled conditioned air relaxes every muscle like a full-body Shiatsu massage. It reminds him of weekends spent hanging out with his girls, grabbing a soft pretzel and complaining about the men in their lives, which was really a disguised form of good-natured one-upping:

“Finn will never understand the sanctity of my evening ice water face bath! He says it looks painful! He won’t even try it, the scaredy cat! Something about brain freeze and him being afraid of shrinking his skull. But his pores, Kurt! He’s got pores so big, you could live in them! And the sun damage from all that football? He’s such a … such a boy! I don’t know what I’m going to do with him some days! Anyway, did I show you the absolutely adorable music note pin he got me? It’s so perfect, I’m surprised you didn’t have something to do with it! You didn’t, did you? No, I didn’t think so. He said it was for the anniversary of our second kiss! How did he even remember?”

(How did Finn remember? Kurt had thought scornfully. Aside from the fact that Rachel circled the date on Finn’s calendar, then filled in the box with a note written in blood red Sharpie; inputted a message into his phone; and then reminded him every day of the week before; Kurt had no idea …)

“I completely understand what you mean,” Kurt had agreed with an appropriately commiserate eye roll. “I’ve finally managed to open Blaine’s eyes to the importance of jade rolling, but he’s so impatient! Married to the idea that an alpha hydroxy toner is some magical elixir that is going to solve all his problems for him.” Kurt tutted, nodding his head solemnly when Rachel gasped at the failings of his boyfriend. “But he did go out and buy me the cutest raw silk bow tie, out of the blue and for no reason whatsoever, so I guess I can’t be too angry with him for neglecting his dermatological responsibilities …”

The current man in Kurt’s life wouldn’t be in the running to win that competition, not with his constant bitching and complaining about the pain in his feet, the pounding in his head caused by the ‘lame ass music’, and his all-encompassing boredom.

But in this instance, listening to Sebastian gripe doesn’t dull Kurt’s shopping experience an inch.

On the contrary - it heightens it.

“I do.” Olivia grabs Kurt’s hand and bolts towards Talbots to outrun her brother’s sour attitude. “Now, hurry up! We’ve got seven more stores to hit!”

“Why bother?” Sebastian reaches for Kurt’s other hand, frowning when his fingers close around air. “I think you’ve bought every white outfit and peony-covered bed sheet in this place!”

“Hmph. You can never have too much white. And floral never goes out of style,” Olivia tosses over her shoulder, smirking when she notices her brother’s ineffectual attempt at retrieving his boyfriend.

“Great! You can use those sheets when you’re a wrinkled old biddy then.”

“That’s the plan,” Olivia replies with a grin of superiority nearly identical to her brothers. It’s uncanny, like they pass it around, only one of them allowed to use it at any given time.

“Should you even be wearing white at this wedding?” Sebastian retaliates. “I mean, isn’t white reserved for the virtuous?”

“Oh boy,” Brian mutters, taking a gargantuan step away to show how not associated with Sebastian he is at this moment.

Olivia and Kurt stop walking, spinning around in unison to glare down the approaching offender. Kurt wraps an arm around her, shielding her ears with his hands.

“That’s a low blow!” he scolds.

Sebastian shrugs, unfazed. “All I’m saying is that Olivia and Brian haven’t exactly been waiting on a block of ice for this day to arrive, have you guys?” He glances at Brian, who’s strategically hiding behind his fiancee’s fifteen shopping bags and a rotund, fiberglass planter. “Come on, man! Back me up!”

“Look, Sebastian, I love you like a brother,” Brian says, “but I’m not doin’ that. I know which side my bread is buttered.”

“Coward.” Sebastian turns his attention back to his sister and his boyfriend. He rolls his eyes condescendingly at their united front, their matching expressions of umbrage. “Sorry, not sorry,” he offers as his trivial non-apology.  

“Oh, okay …” Olivia rolls up her sleeves, gearing up for a fight. “If that’s the way you want it, let’s talk some truth! If I was worried at all about a higher power sending lightning down to smote the impure at my perfect wedding, I wouldn’t have invited Julian or you! Between the two of you, you could set the entire venue on fire!”

Instead of being offended by that remark, Sebastian grins. “You’re not wrong. In fact …” Sebastian’s grin widens like he’s just conceived the most brilliant plan in the world “… I think it might be better if Kurt and I didn’t attend your stuffy old wedding.” He creeps closer to Kurt, prepared to take his sister to the ground to get his boyfriend’s hand back. “For the safety of your guests, of course.”

Olivia pivots, maneuvering a giggling Kurt out of her brother’s reach as swiftly as a chess master would castle a king. “I never said Kurt would set the place on fire.”

“And who says I wouldn’t go just because you weren’t going?” Kurt points out as he’s shuffled towards the safety of another store.

Olivia squeezes Kurt’s hand and beams, proud to have such a loyal companion in this fight.

“Employing that logic, I don’t see why my presence was necessary for this shopping excursion,” Sebastian argues, though it comes across more like he’s pouting. “You have Brian here to play valet. You guys could have gone by yourselves and had all the old lady fun you wanted. I would have given you my blessing.”

Kurt’s jaw drops straight to the collar of his borrowed button-down. “We told you where we were going! And I told you you’d be bored out of your mind! You begged us to come!”

“As a favor to you, babe.” Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant toddler - a toddler with biceps the size of Kurt’s calves, on breathtaking display in the tight t-shirt he’s wearing. But Sebastian also looks so charmingly immature, Kurt can’t help breaking, smiling at him with heart eyes. This attitude shift - his playful moping and edge-free teasing - is one of the things Kurt loves about having Sebastian out here, surrounded by the loving bosom of his family. He’s softened, less sardonic, stopped trying to keep Kurt at arm’s length via the use of inappropriate jokes and jabs that skirt a line.

He’s gone from minor criminal mastermind, the scourge of Dalton Academy, and has become a goofy teenager.

Sebastian caps off his claim with, “Lord knows neither one of you has any sense of style,” and this time, it’s Olivia’s turn to cover Kurt’s ears. “Offense! Now you’ve gone too far!”

“Come, Olivia …” Kurt sniffles, squaring his back with a dignified roll of his shoulders, symbolically sloughing off Sebastian’s slights “… I refuse to stand here and be insulted by a boy wearing boat shoes.”

“Now, Kurt, don’t you listen to that mean, bitter … oh my God! Neiman Marcus is having a clearance sale! Come on!” She grabs Kurt’s hand and bolts toward the store, and God, is she strong! Kurt feels his feet fly out from under him as he rushes to keep up, Sebastian and Brian chuckling behind them. Kurt loses Sebastian in a sea of discount racks, each boasting bright red and yellow signs proclaiming 50% off! Final sale! 85% off re-racks! Kurt frowns at the signage, but then can’t help snickering at his own reaction to them. These signs are tackier than Kurt would expect for a Neiman Marcus store, outlet or otherwise, no doubt, but look at him being a sign snob when he can barely afford half the items on the rack at regular price?

Kurt finds his size (or his general range) and starts sifting through items one at a time, savoring the experience. He hears Olivia ooo and ahhh at a rack beside him, but his mind begins wandering to thoughts of the boy sauntering their way, helping Brian bear his load, laughing while his eyes search for Kurt.

And smiling like he’s never been happier.

For all of Sebastian’s incessant whining and rude remarks, Kurt can’t say he hasn’t fantasized about going on a no holds barred shopping excursion with him. He’s curious as hell how Sebastian would dress him. How Sebastian sees him. This button-down he’s wearing, top button undone and collar popped, is one of Sebastian’s - something Sebastian had tossed Kurt’s way after breakfast with only a, “Please?” as if his intentions were clear without further comment.

And they were.

But in a dedicated ensemble-selecting situation, what would his aesthetic be?

Kurt assumes there’d be a lot of denim and distressed tees involved, which might actually be quite fetching on him. It is on Sebastian, and the two of them are proportionately similar. With a chunky leather belt and his Doc Martens, he could see himself pulling that off. It’d be comfy, less restricting than the clothes he chooses for himself. And who knows? Sebastian might throw him a curve ball, surprise him by choosing an out-of-left-field accessory.

He’s exceptionally good at that.

The more Kurt thinks about it, the more he finds himself getting excited over the prospect of such a trip even though it’ll likely never happen.

But it could. Who knows?

It gives him something new to fantasize over.

Cooper had once accused Kurt of picking out Blaine’s clothes, and Blaine had defended him. Or himself, come to think of it. His personal style choices. But the truth is Blaine balked at a lot of Kurt’s attempts to dress him. He borrowed items from Kurt’s closet and vice versa, but letting Kurt style him? They didn’t do that all too often. The two of them had such signature styles, it felt like stepping on one another’s toes.

Might have been a good thing that Kurt didn’t, in retrospect. As with Rachel’s carousel horse sweaters, Blaine owns a cardigan or two that Kurt wouldn’t mind setting on fire.

And the temptation is strong.

But as for Sebastian’s style - Kurt suspects there’s a degree to which someone else buys his clothes for him. Like a personal shopper, or perhaps even his mom. He wears a lot of the same outside of his Dalton uniform - designer label clothes that suit his figure but don’t exactly scream personality. Kurt can see Sebastian approving the colors and having the final say, but in the end, he doesn’t do the work.

His t-shirts are a different story. Those he obviously picked out personally. They’re conversational, speak to more than his taste in clothing.

They’re a peek into his identity.

If Kurt had the chance to get his hands on Sebastian’s wardrobe, he’d dress him in pieces tailored more for his figure - dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up and one tail untucked hinting at his trim waist, layered over simple tanks of solid colors, and jeans slightly snugger than he usually wears.

Kurt swallows, his mouth stone dry at the silhouette that combination creates in his mind.

He startles out of his daydream when he realizes he’s stopped searching. Olivia’s voice has become a low hum in his ears, blending with the music and occasional store announcements; his hands gripping two separate hangers like an iron vice determined to break them in half. He peeks up to see an amused Sebastian staring at him, heading in their direction, but his view gets cut when Olivia thrusts a hanger in front of his face.

“Oh, Kurt! Look! It’s Tom Ford and it’s leopard! It would look so fierce on you!” Olivia takes a gander at the tag. “And it’s 75% off! A steal, Kurt! You have to get it!”

“Should I?” Kurt turns to the nearest mirror, mounted on a support pillar, and holds the long-sleeved shirt up to his chin. It is rather stunning. He doesn’t have to look at the price tag to know that it costs a pretty penny. 75% off of Tom Ford’s average retail price is quite the splurge for normal, non-economically blessed humans. What Olivia considers a steal would mean the sacrifice of an entire weekend at his dad’s shop. But, luckily, he has it to spend. And he’s worth it, especially after everything he’s been through.

“Absolutely! You’d be losing money not buying it at that price!”

“You know what? I think I will!” And as excited as he is at adding a new separate to his Tom Ford collection, Kurt feels a pit grow in his stomach when those words pass his lips. He feels guilty not bookmarking every single cent he has for NYADA, but seeing as he has this new plan to put into action, he breaks down and decides to buy the shirt, a pair of slacks, and a belt to tie the whole look together.

“You know, you should just go crazy,” Sebastian mentions. “It’s all good. I’ll pick up the tab.”

Kurt’s heart speeds at the offer, an orgasmic Yes! pinging through his brain, but he shakes his head. “That’s very generous, but even on sale, the prices in this place are insane! I don’t want you spending that kind of money on me.”

“Why not? I have it to spend. What’s a couple thousand between boyfriends?” Sebastian says, playfully bumping Kurt’s hip with his own. “Besides, I like the idea of spoiling you.” He leans close to Kurt’s ear and whispers, “If you want, I can take it out of what I owe you. Or in exchange for sex. Whatever floats your boat.”

Those words, in contrast to the heat of Sebastian’s breath, make Kurt’s skin go cold. It’s a joke. Sebastian is teasing. And Kurt should be happy that he feels free to tease him about this. Things are slowly coming out in the open, people are finding out about their ruse, and they don’t care, because in the end, the two of them fell in love. They’re happy.

And no one died.

Jokes about money, or their relationship, may not mean anything to Sebastian, not since the end justified the means. So they shouldn’t mean anything to Kurt.

So why do they?

Bzzz-bzzz. Bzzz-bzzz.

Kurt’s phone vibrating in his pocket is rare enough for this trip that it makes him jump a full foot in the air. Truthfully, he forgot he brought it with him. He’d deemed it unnecessary for most outings, only holding on to it in case of an emergency. He sticks the leopard shirt under his arm and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks his screen and sees an incoming message from his father. He taps on it to open it, but it refuses, bouncing back to the main screen after a few seconds of stalling.

“What is it, babe?” Sebastian asks after Kurt stabs at his screen for the fifth time with no luck.

“It’s a text from my dad, but I can’t open it,” Kurt replies. “He sent a picture attachment, but it keeps freezing up.”

“Maybe it’s too big.” Sebastian puts his share of Olivia’s shopping bags down and rests his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, gently kneading away the tension this is causing him. “Lord knows I understand that problem.”

“Ha ha,” Kurt deadpans, assaulting the screen more vigorously like he’s interrogating it for information.

Which he kind of is.

“Speaking of, can I see those pictures?” Olivia asks.

Sebastian shoots his sister a disturbed look. “You want to see pictures of my junk?”

“Does Kurt have pictures of your junk on his phone? Because if he does, I think we’ve identified the problem.”

“And what’s that?”

Olivia stares at her brother with such intense seriousness, Kurt thinks she may not be kidding when she says, “His phone obviously has a virus.”

Brian guffaws unexpectedly and turns away.

“Funny,” Sebastian deadpans back.

“I want to see the pictures from that hot air balloon ride you guys took!” Olivia clarifies, blessedly halting the conversation in its tracks.

“Oh. Yeah,” Kurt says, distracted by this issue with his phone. “Let me just …”

“Did you forget how to use it?” Sebastian asks, only half kidding. “I mean, you haven’t really been using your phone since we got here.”

“It’s not that,” Kurt says, not surprised anymore by how easy it is to bypass Sebastian’s humor and see the real message inside. Kurt is struggling to open a text - a text from his father. Sebastian knows that’s going to cause Kurt anxiety. “This has happened to me a few times before. Shoot! Now it won’t let me access my photo gallery!”

“I should really upgrade your phone,” Sebastian says, like it’s his responsibility to handle this problem, as if he has the authority to make that decision.

“My phone’s fine, Bas,” Kurt grumbles, more annoyed at his phone than he is at his boyfriend.

“Kurt, this is serious! I don’t want your wack ass service to go out when I need to get a hold of you. What if we’re sexting and your phone locks my messages, too?”

“I don’t think it’s the service. I have full bars. I can get on the Internet just fine. It’s my internal storage … mmph!” Kurt gives up on his gallery, accessing Facebook for the photos instead. “It’s the phone! I think it’s finally aged out.”

“Ergo why I should upgrade it.”

“Grr!” Kurt doesn’t bother glaring at Sebastian since he accepts the fact that he made his point for him. Yes, it would be nice to have a new phone. This one’s been giving him grief for a while. But it still works, and it’s decent. Why toss something away because it’s temperamental and frustrating? If that’s the case, he should break up with Sebastian. He laughs out loud when that conclusion pops into his head, but he doesn’t mention why, regardless of the strange looks he’s getting.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian mouths to a perplexed Olivia while pretending to patronizingly pat Kurt’s hair. “He does that sometimes.”

“Okay, okay!” Kurt cheers as his Facebook page pops on the screen. “I’ve got it! Here’s the one at holy shit!”

“Holy shit?” Olivia repeats.

“I don’t remember us going there.” Sebastian crowds with Olivia and Brian around Kurt, all staring at his phone. The first photo that comes up is the exact photo Kurt wanted - the two of them kissing in the basket of that hot air balloon with the caption he wrote, Love Defies Gravity, overhead. But that’s not the issue. The issue is:

“Seen by … 1,452 people!?”

Even Sebastian gasps when Kurt reads it.

“That’s … a lot of people,” Brian says, a less astute observation than Kurt would expect from a lawyer.

“It is. I---I didn’t even know this many people were checking their Facebook pages over the summer. Everyone seemed so busy …” Kurt pauses, swallows heavy, one that fills all the negative space in his throat, then crawls through his chest when it gets that far - his lungs, the spaces between his ribs, his heart. There it stays, obstructing his breathing, rooting him to the spot with its oppressive weight. Because it’s not just the length of the seen by list that makes Kurt’s eyes swell (and yes, it appears that almost everyone he’s ever met, known, given his Facebook information to has seen this picture), but the comments they left. Only the first four are displayed, but when he clicks the View more comments hyperlink, they shoot down his screen, disappearing out of sight.

Kurt scans the list of names quickly, noting that pretty much every member of the New Directions has not only seen the pictures but has had something to say – something positive, and that makes Kurt giddy with relief. Not that their disapproval would have had any influence over whether Kurt stays with Sebastian or not. He doesn’t need a single one of his friends to approve as long as they understand that this is what he wants. But it’s nice to know that his friends are happy for him, even Rachel, who has left him a string of heart emojis, one or two of them broken, and the almost impossible to believe comment – I’m so sorry. About everything. Call me soon. I want to talk about this.

Kurt stops reading names after he sees Santana’s remark - Plot twist of the century! Way to get it, pretty pony! FYI - I’m still down to cut a bitch if he goes back to being a puto!

“Hey!” Sebastian says, pointing her comment out.

“What?” Kurt gives him a one shoulder shrug. “It’s her way of saying she approves. Besides, it’s good to know.” Kurt smiles to himself when he hears Olivia backhand her brother and he yelps, “Careful, will ya!? Your engagement ring’s sharp!”

Kurt gets so caught up in his happiness, he doesn’t see one name in particular at the way bottom of the list. The name of someone who had said they’d sworn off Facebook for the summer, but who’d been checking it on the sly whenever they got the chance.

One of the first people to flip through all the photographs on Kurt’s page, even though they didn’t leave a comment.

They couldn’t bring themselves to, not on any of the photographs Kurt has uploaded while he’s been at the beach house – the ones he took of the ocean view from Sebastian’s room, the selfie he took with Sebastian on the porch swing, the one he took of Sebastian asleep in bed.

Especially the one of Sebastian asleep in bed.

Blaine Anderson.

***

Several times on the car ride home, Kurt attempts to download his father’s message. He waits while the loading icon circles round and round and round, but all he gets back is the error message File not available for download.

“Shoot! But why aren’t you available for download?”

The phone doesn’t answer, but Sebastian does.

“Because I’m a shit phone, Kurt,” he says in a cartoonish falsetto. “Let your sexy boyfriend upgrade me.”

Kurt side-eyes Sebastian. “Is that code?”

Sebastian bounces his eyebrows. “Do you want it to be? There is such a thing as a gadget kink, isn’t there?”

“You would know,” Kurt mutters. “You do realize that even if you upgrade my phone today to one that is faster, more reliable, has a longer battery life, and …”

Sebastian glances from the road to Kurt stuck in the midst of that sentence with his mouth half-open “… and …?”

“I don’t know. I kind of lost myself in my own argument.” Kurt’s face goes blank, marooned on the question of exactly why it is he’s turning down the offer of a new phone. He’s never been a phone snob. He’s the one constantly defending the fact that yes, he owns an older iPhone, but if it’s not broke, don’t fix it.

Except now that argument is invalid.

A newer generation iPhone would be nice, but again, it’s too much money. He loves Sebastian, but he doesn’t need him paying for everything.

At what point would spoiling be considered mooching in Sebastian’s eyes, even if Kurt starts out by vehemently objecting?

Kurt shakes his head, demolishing the image of himself wielding the latest in Apple technology when he remembers the point he was attempting to make. “That’s right. Even if you upgraded my phone today, I still might not be able to open this message. If I can’t download it, it might not transfer over.”

“Why don’t you give him a call?”

“I’ve tried! It’s not just my texting that’s on the fritz, I can’t do anything! The infuriating thing is I haven’t gotten any significant messages from anyone the whole time I’ve been here! The one day my dad has something so important to tell me he includes a picture, it pulls this crap, deciding that, after a long and loyal relationship, today is the day it’s going to screw the pooch!” At least it waited longer than Blaine, Kurt thinks sourly. Was more reliable in the end, too.

“Maybe the problem is your service and we’ve entered a dead zone,” Sebastian says sympathetically, as if a similar criticism about Blaine may have crossed his mind. “You’ve had no problems using your phone at the house, right?”

“Right.”

“Then I say wait till you get to the house and give it another shot.”

“You’re … you’re probably right.”

“Hey …” Sebastian reaches across the center console for Kurt’s hand. Kurt takes it without looking, without needing to look “… if you’re that worried about him, use the landline. Put your mind at ease.”

“Yeah.” Kurt pockets his phone, his mind whirling through the spectrum of possibilities, trying to hit blindly on which one is more plausible. It doesn’t help too much since not a single one of them is any better than the rest. “I might just do that.”

***

To Kurt:

Call me as soon as you can. We need to talk ASAP.

Sitting alone on the edge of Sebastian’s bed, staring at his phone screen, those words are as far as Kurt gets before his phone goes loopy again, but the chills that spiral up and down his spine show no sign of stopping.

Now that he has that much of the message open, his Facebook app starts flipping out. He’d been reading the threads underneath his photos, but the longer he scrolls, the app errors out and shuts down, forcing him to log in all over again. He has two-factor authentification set on all his apps, which means waiting for an authorization text before he can do anything. He’s had to change his password twice so far. He prays he won’t have to do it again.

There are just so many variations of TheGoddessPattiLuPone he can come up with.

He’ll have to move on to TheGoddessBetteMidler soon.

In between shut downs, he catches snippets of conversations that solve a couple of mysteries for him. Like how Sebastian managed to see his old Cheerios videos. A helpful Brittany was apparently instrumental behind that one, bringing them up on her phone from the official Cheerios archive (accessible only by past and present members of the Cheerios) when Sebastian mentioned he was interested in starting a squad at Dalton and would she mind giving him a few pointers seeing as she was one of McKinley’s star cheerleaders and all.

Kurt sighs over the fact that she fell for that one but he can’t hold it against her. She’s a sweetheart that way, rarely thinks badly of anyone for too long. Even with everything Sebastian has done to sabotage the New Directions, it would be water under the bridge as long as he was nice to her. Maybe gave her a gummy bear or two.

Kurt’s coffee order - a splash of cream and a half spoon of sugar - Kurt deduces in a round about way came from Mercedes one day when they went to visit Dalton to pick up some transcripts and he took her to the commons for coffee. He remembers her commenting in a voice that could never competently whisper, “A drop of cream and a half spoon of sugar? Oh honey. What’s wrong now?”

It was only once. Kurt had forgotten Sebastian was even there. He had started to dish when he caught sight of Sebastian out the corner of his eye. He immediately took Mercedes by the arm and led her away out of earshot of ‘the criminal chipmunk’.

If Kurt doubted that Sebastian actually did spend a great deal of his time gathering blackmail fodder on people the way he claimed, his mind has definitely changed, though he’s not exactly sure how knowing Kurt’s secret coffee order would help Sebastian bend him to his will.

On the flip side, Kurt is interested to find out what else he knows, and about whom.

The phone shuts down and restarts. As soon as it springs to life, it rings, the volume turned up so loud, it shocks him, causing him to fling his phone a foot in the air. Luckily he catches it before it hits the floor. He can’t afford for this thing to break more than it has. He looks at the screen, expecting (but not necessarily hoping, and that makes him feel like a heel) his dad’s number. But it’s not.

It’s Rachel’s.

Kurt groans. He’s not sure he wants to talk to her yet. Because it won’t be talked to, but talked at, a dozen questions flying at him in a single breath which he won’t be given a chance to mull over adequately before he’s expected to answer. And even though he recognizes that he doesn’t owe Rachel anything - any explanations and definitely no apologies - she may ask questions he doesn’t have satisfactory answers for. Not according to her.

Oh God! He doesn’t need this now! Doesn’t need this stress, doesn’t need to be pressured, especially when he has a mysterious message from his father to reckon with. He argues over it to a phantom Rachel in his head, outlining his reasons in a numbered list as to why he doesn’t need her interrupting his calm, harshing the one luxury he’s allowed himself the entire summer, and how there’s not a single thing she can say that will guilt him into feeling anything other than over-the-top, insanely happy.

He gets so wrapped up in winning this non-existent argument, lining up the zingers he’s been stockpiling for just such an occasion, it takes him a few seconds to notice that his phone has stopped ringing.

He stares at the red disconnected call icon on the screen, a choked off, “Oh no,” slipping past his lips.

Kurt took too long.

This could be bad.

But on the bright side, it’s not bad right this second. It seems fate answered his question for him. At least now he has a chance to take a breath before he has to consider---

The phone rings again.

Kurt sees Rachel’s name re-appear on the screen and mutters, “Good God.”

Rachel has nothing going on this summer, so she has plenty of time to keep dogging him till he answers. He knows that for a fact.

He could turn off his phone, put it in a plastic bag, shove that plastic bag in a pillowcase, and then put that pillowcase in his luggage, but he’s still trying to get to the bottom of the text from his dad.

He has no choice.

Best to get this over with, he decides, before she sweet talks Finn into finding out where he is and makes him drive her to North Carolina to talk to him personally. Even if they can’t narrow down the exact location of the beach house, she’d make him drive around while she called out his name through a bull horn to hunt him down.

Erring on the side of caution, Kurt begrudgingly picks up. Rachel’s voice comes through before the phone even makes it to his ear.

“Kurt?”

“Rach?”

“Oh thank God!” she says with an exaggerated sigh, as if Kurt has been missing for months. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day!”

Kurt glances at his screen, the call history for her number outlined in small white numbers denoting this as the fifteenth call from her in the past hour. “I can see that.”

Then comes silence.

Silence because she expects him to lay everything out for her without her having to ask.

And, at the moment, after everything she said about Sebastian being a temporary person (even though, to be fair, Kurt had given her no concrete reason to think otherwise) he’s bitter enough not to.

She breathes in as if she’s about to start a sentence.

He breathes in, prepared to cut in and say, “I know what you’re going to say, Rachel,” though he doesn’t.

So he waits.

She clears her throat, and in a compassionate voice, she asks, “Wha---what happened?”

“Uh …” If that isn’t the loaded question of the decade, Kurt thinks. “It’s like this … he … Sebastian, that is … no - maybe I should start with Blaine … but first, there was this …” Kurt sighs. There is no good place to begin. “You know, it’s a lot to talk about and, to be honest, I’d rather not do it over the phone.”

“Fair enough,” she says, and Kurt can almost hear her nodding. She breathes in again but pauses, holding this one breath for a long time before letting it out in a rush. “You and Blaine aren’t getting back together … are you?”

She sounds so sad.

She sounds the way Puck’s hug felt after he and Blaine told their friends about their decision to break up.

She sounds like something important has been ripped away from her, because Kurt and Blaine’s plans for New York were, in small part, Rachel and Finn’s plans, too. As much as he’d daydreamed about living the poor college student life with Blaine, their Bohemia Academia in a run down apartment they’d make quaint and homey with a combination of stuff from home and accumulated kitsch, Rachel had imagined living somewhere nearby with Finn so they could drop in unannounced for impromptu trips to the farmer’s market; hang out on the fire escape during hot summer nights, sipping sweet vermouth and talking about the cattle calls they’d been to, the parts they hoped they’d get, commenting on no small parts, only small actors, which would turn into a dig at Blaine’s and Rachel’s heights respectively, and probably devolve into a pillow fight..

There was a future wrapped up in Kurt and Blaine’s plans that wasn’t entirely theirs and now that life is being mourned.

“No,” Kurt says, pulling off that bandage before it sits too long, hurts too much. It’s not the declaration that hurts. It’s the anticipation of what that answer might bring. He closes his eyes, jaw going rigid, hands clenching, bracing for the impact. “Never.”

Another in a long series of silences hovers between them. Not a tense one, but not a comfortable one. But then Rachel says the one word Kurt never expected to hear in response to that revelation.

“Good.”

Kurt’s eyes pop open, and inside his chest, his heart stops. “Come again?” he asks when he should be relieved he’s getting away relatively unscathed.

“He shouldn’t have broken up with you, Kurt! He was wrong! Everything he said at that party was wrong!”

“What about what you said at the party?” Kurt asks sarcastically. He can only keep so much of his anger over that contained. Of course what she said was annoying - typical Rachel Berry rhetoric. But he also felt betrayed by the person whose alliance was the most difficult of his life to obtain. He’d thought that made it the sincerest. “About how we were being very mature about the whole thing, and it was good that we were taking some time to reevaluate our choices as we stepped into the future as adults?”

“I was wrong,” she admits tearfully. And not Rachel Berry’s overacted I feel sad when you’re sad tears. These are the genuine article. “I wanted to support you. I wanted to support what I thought was your joint decision. But thinking back on it, re-evaluating what Blaine said, how you reacted to it …” She sniffles, blows her nose away from the phone, and all of the seething bitterness that has been building up in Kurt’s heart over her melts “… then seeing those pictures of you and Sebastian together, and after having a long talk with Finn, I realized that what Blaine did to you is wrong. On so many levels. You did nothing to deserve it. Nothing. And if Sebastian treats you right, if he treats you the way Blaine should have treated you, the way you deserve to be treated then …” She pauses for a deep breath, returning to form, coming to the crux of her argument “… you have my blessing.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at the insinuation that he needs any blessing from her, but he smiles fondly, so hard that his cheeks hurt. It’s a curse that none of them can seem to stay angry at Rachel for long. Even Mercedes, who had more right than any of them to hate Rachel’s guts after that rigmarole with West Side Story came around about a month later. “Thank you, Rachel. That’s very kind of you to say.”

“You’re very welcome,” she says, her voice slightly broken as she gathers herself together. “Well (*sniff*) now that you guys are official (and Kurt can see the air quotes on that one), may I ask you a very important question? And please answer honestly. This is for science.”

Oh boy. Here it comes, Kurt thinks. “Sure, Rachel. What would you like to know?”

“He’s a good kisser, right? Tell me I’m right! A boy with as much experience as he has should have gold medal technique!”

“Yes, Rachel,” Kurt says, laughing when he hears her snort. “A-plus. The absolute best!”

***

“Fuck …”

Sitting on the porch swing, stiff and expressionless as an Easter Island statue, Kurt stares at his phone screen, unable to blink even with the salty sea air stinging his eyes, sucking the moisture from them. His lips try to move instead so he can mutter to himself, sort things through with a private debate, but all he can manage is another expletive.

“Fuck …”

To Kurt:

Call me as soon as you can. We need to talk ASAP.

Along with that ominous message, his father sent a picture of an envelope, the return address NYADA, specifically the financial aid department. Across the bottom of the envelope where Kurt has gotten used to seeing the words AMOUNT DUE are stamped the words FINAL NOTICE.

Kurt swallows hard.

He’d tried calling his father when they reached the beach house on both his dad’s cell phone and the house phone, but they just rang and rang. They didn’t even go to voicemail. Considering the time, he was either running errands or in a meeting, Kurt didn’t know for sure, which didn’t calm his anxiety any. Because those errands could be to the doctor’s office, or with his cardiologist.

Spur-of-the-moment meetings, since Kurt didn’t know about them, indicating something important had cropped up while he was away.

He’d considered calling the Lima Police and requesting they stop by and do a wellness check, but that felt like an overreaction, so he decided to try one last hard reboot of his phone. The screen went black for what seemed like an hour but was probably more like fifteen seconds. After keeping him waiting, sweating it out, the operating system had the nerve to update. Close to five minutes later, the screen went white. His icons shuffled, then everything snapped back to normal. Then, without him touching it, the boxes he’d been trying to access for most of the afternoon opened, including the message from his father and its accompanying picture.

He didn’t have to look at it too long to know what it was. It slapped him in the face the second it filled the screen.

He wishes the file hadn’t opened so smoothly, that he could have eased into accessing it. Because now, underneath this beautiful star-filled sky, a stone’s thrown away from a magnificent beach, he’s about to be sick.

No, he thinks. Not now. Not when I’m here, in this sanctuary, where nothing bad can touch me, still trying to make sense of my feelings. Not when I don’t have a clue how to fix this, where to even start.

But maybe that’s the rub. Maybe he was never meant to figure this problem out. Maybe his acceptance to NYADA was something he was meant to lose, like Blaine, another part of his life he arrogantly thought was a sure thing, something he didn’t bother worrying about once he’d gotten it, slipping through his fingers.

“Hey! You figured your phone out!”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, quickly closing the text. “I just … turned it off and turned it back on again. Worked like a charm.”

Sebastian looks his boyfriend over, but particularly his smile - two-dimensional, not doing its usual job of lighting his eyes - and starts to worry. “What did your dad have to say? Nothing bad, right? He’s not … he’s not sick or anything?”

“No. No, he’s fine. He just got home, I guess.” Kurt tries to stuff the phone in his pocket, but his numb fingers have a problem working.

“You know” – Sebastian sits beside Kurt, his eyes lingering on the phone Kurt tucks out of sight – “I never did ask you what you needed $10,000 for. I mean, did you pick that number out of the air at random? Or was that what you thought dating me was worth, because, if that’s the case, then frankly I think you sold one of us short.”

Kurt nods tersely but doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s paralyzed. Now is definitely the time to own up to something, but what? To his old plan of needing the money to go to NYADA? Or this new plan of moving wherever Sebastian is going that he’s become attached to? He knows he’ll tell Sebastian both, but which one takes precedence? If emotion weren’t entering in to it at all, if he wasn’t still confused about this relationship with Sebastian, then the answer would be NYADA, definitely. And even as that new plan, glimmering in his head, tickles his lips to make its way out, he knows the answer is NYADA no matter what, above all.

Sebastian puts an arm around Kurt’s shoulder and pulls him against him as he reclines. He pushes off the porch with his feet and starts the swing rocking its soothing rhythm.

“Originally I thought it was so you could buy yourself a new wardrobe,” Sebastian continues, trying to get Kurt relaxed enough to spill, “and I have to say, I was all for that. Hell, I was going to up it to $50,000 and take you shopping myself. Make sure you got your money’s worth.” Sebastian waits for a comeback, a snide remark, anything. But when Kurt remains quiet, Sebastian kisses his head. “Talk to me, babe. Tell me what’s going on.”

Kurt sighs. He can’t put this off any longer. Putting it off, coming up with some excuse not to talk about it, would feel like lying, and he doesn’t want to lie to Sebastian.

“It’s for … it was for college. NYADA.” God, he isn’t prepared to admit this. Not yet. Even after the time he’s given himself, he’d never wanted to admit to any of this out loud. That was worse than not having the money, so he’d been doing everything in his power not to. “I had gotten some scholarships and some financial aid, but I was approved before my father was elected to Congress.” Kurt hears Sebastian sigh. He knows he can fill in the rest, but Kurt feels like he has to keep going. “It never dawned on me to call and update them, but they found out on their own anyway. They readjusted my aid and, in the end, I came up short. Without that money, I … I can’t go to college.”

Sebastian sighs again, but instead of sounding frustrated, this sigh sounds hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Sebastian. I can’t take that money now. Not after …”

“Stop, Kurt.” Sebastian reaches into his back pocket. “Just … just stop.” He pulls out his wallet, takes out a piece of paper, folded once, and hands it to Kurt. At first, Kurt has no idea what it could be, though he has a nagging suspicion. But that suspicion can’t be correct! It would be ludicrous if it were!

But since ludicrous seems like par for the course this summer, it’s exactly what Kurt thinks it is – a cashier’s check for $10,000, made out to Kurt Hummel, dated the day Kurt agreed to their fake boyfriend arrangement. And even though Kurt is teetering on the brink of incredulity, he has to smirk at the comment Sebastian had the bank print in the memo line – For services rendered. Bow-chicka-bow-wow.

“You’ve … you’ve been carrying this around with you this whole time?”

“Well, yeah.” Sebastian shrugs. “Regardless of what you see on TV, you can’t just write a personal check for ten grand. And I had every intention of keeping up my end of the bargain. I got it drawn up early in case we didn’t fool anyone and my folks cleaned out my bank account. A personal check would have been worthless then, so …” Sebastian makes a go ahead and take it gesture, encouraging Kurt to put it away for safe keeping. But Kurt shakes his head.

“Thank you, but … but I … I can’t,” Kurt says, those words killing him, driving nails into his heart and twisting as he stares at this check, made out for more than he needs, his name in the pay to the order of line. It’s the answer to all his prayers, but for the sake of his conscience, he has to turn it down. Goddamned conscience! Fuck you! “That’s very generous of you, but …”

“We had a deal, Kurt,” Sebastian interrupts. “You more than held up your end. In fact, I would say you went above and beyond considering.”

Kurt nods. Objectively, he has to agree, but the way Sebastian chose to phrase it makes him feel sick. Plus, and he doesn’t know why, he feels offended. He doesn’t know what he expected Sebastian to say about the matter. He’d prepared himself for Sebastian to give him the money. He’d prepared to refuse and for the two of them to fight over it. But instead of indignant, he feels insulted.

“Then … then what does that make us? What does that make this? Everything we’ve done so far?”

“It makes it what it is, Kurt,” Sebastian says, throwing an arm in the air. “I love you, and you love me. And this …” He gestures to the check in Kurt’s hands like it’s an annoying fly he’s shooing away “… this is ancient history. Tying up loose ends.” Kurt starts shaking his head. It’s a reflex to object. This doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that boyfriends did for one another. Teenage boyfriends at that! It’s too much!

Sebastian, facing down his obstinate boyfriend, groans. “Kurt! Are you really going to throw your dreams away, your entire future, for something as stupid as money?”

“Well, you can call money stupid,” Kurt argues, his hand holding the check shaking. “You have it, alright? But when you don’t have it, it’s not stupid! It’s actually kind of important!”

“You’re right,” Sebastian agrees. “You’re absolutely right. It is important. It’s important, and you need it. You need it to go to college. So why the fuck aren’t you taking it, Kurt? I’m fortunate. I happen to have more money than I can use, sitting around, doing nothing. So let me give you some …” Kurt scoffs, rolls his head away. Sebastian amends his statement. “Or lend you some - however you want to do this. Remember when I said that money doesn’t matter to me beyond enjoying all the things my wealth can buy me? Well, I would really enjoy the opportunity to do this for you.”

Kurt doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet, hoping the right words will simply come to him. When they don’t, Sebastian takes that as Kurt trying to come up with a better argument against this, and he huffs out a frustrated breath.

“Look, if you don’t take it, I’m just going to send it to fucking NYADA with your name plastered all over it, so you might as well stop being so fucking stubborn and do it your damn self! If you and I hadn’t gotten together for real, if we hadn’t fallen in love, you’d be taking this check, conscience clear, and on your way to New York. But we lucked out, Kurt. We got something better out of this in the end. Being able to call you mine is worth the world to me. But if it causes you to give up your dream, then it’s a bad thing. I don’t want what we have to be a bad thing. I want it to be a good thing. I want it to grow and last, and that will only happen if you live out your life. If you follow your dream.”

Sebastian takes the check from Kurt’s fingers. He folds it and slides it in Kurt’s pocket. Kurt doesn’t move to object. He can’t. What Sebastian says makes sense to him logically. It’s his pride that has a problem with it. This isn’t the end. Sebastian isn’t Blaine. He isn’t going to let Kurt go just because they’re going to schools in separate states. Kurt is finally seeing an ending to this where he gets to have it all – the school of his dreams, the future he planned, and the boy he never planned on. This would be a loan, he promises himself. He’ll pay back every single cent, even if it takes him a lifetime.

“You’re going to NYADA, Kurt,” Sebastian says, kissing Kurt on the forehead between words, “one way or another. And there’s not a force anywhere on earth that’s going to keep me from making sure you get there.”

[reinabell]

Into The Water (Fili x Reader)

Warnings: Mild swearing, a small amount of angst? Fluff, maybe?

Pairing: Fili x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is feeling down, Fili finds a way to cheer her up. Thorin isn’t so happy with the outcome.

Happy Fili Friday :)

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

“We will rest here for tonight.” Thorin’s demanding voice echoed through the company. I almosted let out a sigh of relief but I caught myself before it slipped past my lips. I loved being in the company, but sometimes I just wanted a soft bed to fall into and to sleep throught the whole day, to forget about the quest.

I went over to the place that would be our camp and set my things down, I myself plopped down next to my bag with a thud. I didn’t get much sleep the night before, so this day had tooken a lot out of me, more than normal. That train of thought had upset me, because somehow even when all I did was travel on horse back all day, I seemed to feel exhausted no matter how easy the day was. Perhaps it was due to the fact I haven’t travelled much in my life.

I got up as soon as I sat down, I wanted to help around the camp. Surely Thorin would get grouchy if I sat on my ass and did nothing. 

“I’m going to get fire wood.” I called out to let everyone know where I was headed, also so that they knew they didn’t need to get it themselves. I walked into the woods just right of the camp. I looked around to find the best peices I could, collecting them in my arms as I walked further and further into the trees.

 I started to think about the journey I’ve had. What happens after Erebor is taken back? Do I just... go home? Where was home, really? I went on this journey for a reason, not just to help the dwarves get their home back, but also because I wanted the adventure. I wanted to go and see the world, maybe find a real place I could call home without the sour taste that would linger. These people within the company... they made me feel safe... happy. I didn’t really want this journey to end, because I feared I would lose the safe feeling. If they let me stay within Erebor, would it still bring me happiness? Would the dwarves exept me? Tears brimmed in my eyes as I thought more about it, I didn’t want to lose my new family.

I heard a foot fall onto the ground really close to my left, I let out a small squack and dropped my pile of wood. I whipped around and pulled out my dagger. I got in a fighting stance quickly, ready to fight the intruder. 

“Easy now, lass!” Fili stepped back and put his hands up, he glanced at my dagger then to my face. My shoulders relaxed when I realized it was a friend, not a foe. I put my dagger back on my hip, the tear that was welling in my eye fell but I whiped it away.

“By the Gods, Fili! Don’t scare me like that.” I let out a frustrated sigh and looked away from him. He really caught me at a bad time, didn’t he?

“My apologies, Y/N. I would have thought you heard me coming, what’s the matter lass?” His soft voice rang through my ears. I wanted to tell him about my worries, but it felt selfish. My silly troubles where nothing compaired to those of the company.

“I was just thinking too much, nothing to worry about.” I said simply. His brows furrowed, clearly he didn’t believe me. He looked like he was debating his next words. His eyes suddenly lit up.

“Well, I know just the thing to cheer you up! I know you ar-” He was cut off by the sound of my voice. 

“Fi, I really don’t need cheering up. It’s only something small, you don’t need to go out of your way to help me.” I tried to dismiss him.

“Nonsense! No matter how small, I will help. Now you have the option to talk about it or you can have me cheer you up my way.” Fili sent a wink my way and my mouth droppped open for a moment, but I quickly closed it. I raised my brow and gave him a sly look.

“And what would ‘Your way’ be?” I asked in a playful voice. 

“You’ll have to find out, but that’s only if you choose my option.” He stated as a matter-of-fact-ly, he himself had a smile of his face. I tapped my chin in a thinking manner.

“Fine, I’ll play your little game. I choose your option.” I said. Fili’s smile turned into a wicked grin, his eyes glown in the setting sunlight. I started to doubt my decision for a moment. All of the sudden Fili picked me up and thrown me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes then started to walk to who knows where. I squeaked and punched his back in a playful manner.

“Put me down, Fi!” I yelled at him, though I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nah-ah-ah, you agreed to this darling. No going back now.” He stated. Fili started to walk faster into a light jog.

“Fili, where in Middle Earth are you taking me?” I laughed out. 

“You’ll see, amrâlimê” He spoke.

“Amra-what now?” I asked. Fili knew I knew damn near no dwarvish, so why..? Is he insulting me?

“Wait, did you just insult me?” I asked. Fili simply laughed at me, then he set me down. My brows furrowed, I looked up at Fili with a questioning look. He gestured behind me and I looked in that direction. We where at the edge of a slow moving river, about 22 feet wide. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize we have a river near by.” I stated. I continued to look around until Fili took a step towards me, which caused me to take a step back. My foot went straight into the water.

“Hey! Fi-” 

He took another step towards me and set his hands on my waist, then pushed me back a little more. I was even further into the water.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. Fili simply smiled at me, he kicked his shoes off, then his socks.

“Take your shoes off, unless you want them wet - well, more wet then they are.” He said, he then had the audacity to let a chuckle pass his lips.

“I’m not going any further into this water - Fili!” I yelled as he took another step, putting me a inch more in the water.

“Okay! Okay!” I quickly took my shoes off to prevent them from getting even more wet, my socks right with them. “I hate you...” I whispered. He let out a hearty laugh.

“You lose your mind without me.” He said, then he started to fully walk in the water, taking me right with him.

“Ughh, Fili why?” I asked.

“It never hurts to have a little fun” He answered.

“I don’t have any other clothes.” I stated.

“You can borrow some of mine.”

“As if they would fit me.” I grumbled. We where now waist deep in the river and going deeper. As soon as the water hit over my chest Fili grabbed my thighs and lifted me up, I gasped and wrapped my legs around his torso instinctively. I stayed quiet for a moment.

“You drive me mad.” I said quietly, I didn’t expect him to hear me. 

“In a good way, I hope.” He nearly growled, and unfortunatly for me, that turned me on. It didn’t help that my legs where wrapped around him.

“Fi...” I paused for a moment. “Maybe it is in a good way.” I said even quieter than last time. I could nearly hear his smirk.

“Ugh” I let out a groan, then pushed away from him. I quickly went underwater  and swam away. I came back up quite a few feet away from him, a gave him a shit-eating grin then splashed him with as much water as I could.

“Two can play that game.” Fili started to swim towards me, with a large grin of his own. My eyes opened wide and I let out a yelp and swam away as fast as I could manage. Unlucky for me, Fili was a much better swimmer than me, and a faster one at that.

“No!” I yelled when his arms wrapped around my waist, a small laugh escaped my lips. He dunked me underwater the brought me back up. Fili spun me around to face him, his eyes shown beautifully in the dusk light. It made my heart skip a beat, and I started to get lost in his eyes. I naturally leaned in a bit, and a light smile graced Fili’s lips.

“What in Mahal’s name do you two think you are doing?” 

I jump at the thundering voice I heard from the shore, but Fili kept his hold on me. We both quickly looked over to find the owner of said voice. And that was non other than Thorin Oakinshield. Kili was right beside Thorin with a wide smile on his face.

“You have been gone for nearly an hour, for only fire wood. When we go to investigate we find that you two are just fooling around?” Thorin spoke once again. 

“Sorry Uncle, we where just-” Fili was cut off by Thorin

“I don’t want to hear it. Get back to camp.” Thorin stated then walked away. Kili didn’t miss the small smile that formed on Thorin’s lips when he turned around though.

“Brother, next time you go off with a girl. Let us know.” Kili said, he still had that smile of his face. Kili turned to walk away as well.

“It’s not like that!” Fili yelled back, but he had a smile of his face too. Kili simply kept walking, but glanced back and smiled again.

After a moment of Fili still holding me, we looked to each other. We bursted out laughing and I put my head in the crook of his neck.

“Thorin is totally going to kill us.”

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

Thank you for reading my first fanfic! It may be a little rusty, and idk if I captured the character Fili correctly, but you guys let me know! :)

Also, I kept switching from “You” to “I” before I just finnally switched to “I”. If you see any mistakes let me know so I can fix them, and if you have any advice for improving let me know! :)

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 3 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Notes: Hello everyone. I will get to writing another chapter of Irked, but for now, here’s a mini crack fic. Should be good for a laugh or two.

Thor was bodybuilding to a song by Right Said Fred, when his phone rang. ...'I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy, it hurts…' "Hello?"

Tony held the phone from his ear and yelled. "DO YOU…" The music suddenly stopped. "...ever look at your call display?"

"Sorry, flying human. Was working my gluteus maximus."

"To the detriment of my earius drumius."

"Oops. How's life?"

"Riveting in the last twenty four hours. You alone?"

"Jane's in Vegas with Darcy."

"Perfect. Think you can you put aside selfies with groping seniors and visit me ASAP?"

"The cougars are more troublesome. Their claws resemble a bilgesnipes. Bloody frightening."

"Buy Hulk bandages. Well?"

"Sounds serious."

"It is. I've a friend that wishes to meet you and it's mandatory you oblige."

"Who?"

"Can't say until you agree to abide by our terms of said meeting."

"Tony, are you in cohorts with an enemy?"

"Thor, are you on crack?"

"Don't know what that is."

"The universe is grateful. Please listen. You cannot hitch a ride with Mjolnir, or come by plane. You must drive here and take every precaution to avoid being recognized or followed. Most importantly, keep it secret."

Thor gave his word and was blown away by what he learned. "Spoil her rotten if need be, I'll foot the bill. Do 'not' let her leave."

"I'm a billionaire ya silly arse, remember? Start packing."

After gathering his suit pieces from the sixtieth floor, Stark went to tell Brianna, but she'd fallen asleep following a bathroom break, halfway through the movie. When Pepper went in there to clean, it looked like a photo from Architectural Digest.

Upon waking, Little Warrior was thrilled to hear the news. "Thanks, Iron Man. Where's Pepper?"

"Out buying you clothes."

"Yaaay!" *****

Thor arrived two days later and instantly fell in love with the girl. She showed him similar acts of magic Tony saw, but still wouldn't reveal anything more about herself. Her abilities and resemblance to Loki were so uncanny, he was ninety percent convinced she was his.

"Your quite talented, Brianna. Why is it you wish to meet my brother?"

"Based on in-depth research, I believe he's a sorcerer, yes?"

"He is."

"Good. I was hoping to ask him some questions about my abilities. Do you think he'll come?”

"I'm sure of it. Will you please stay with Tony and Pepper until we return?"

“I’ll be here.”

Tony rode the elevator down with him.

"How did she know Loki is a sorcerer?"

"I'm questioning the same. Only Fury, his bosses and the other Avengers know. None of us would spill the beans. I suspect Brianna's abilities are more extensive than she's letting on. How will you convince Prince Jezebel?"

"Who?"

Tony deadpanned. "Loki?"

"Threaten to tell Astrid."

"If it comes to that, have mercy and offer the guy some earplugs. Her drama queening is like fingernails down a blackboard."

"My sister in law's wrath will be a walk in the park compared to our Mother's. She's my backup plan."

Stark recalled Ellen Ripley's experience with an angry, Alien queen then pictured a seidre in its hand. "Have a nice trip, big guy." ***** On the morning Thor returned to Asgard, Astrid woke early to find Loki pensively staring out their bedroom window. "What's wrong?"

"There's no easy way to say this, my lovely. You continuously speak of longing to start a family, but this sneaking off realm without a word..it's left me hesitant to believe you're ready."

"Why?"

"Your temper flares and you often act without thinking. I keep questioning had we children…"

"They would've stayed with your Mother." She angrily started searching for attire. "But no problem. I'll stay on the pill."

"Is this reaction not a perfect example?"

"Maybe I'm insulted you think me so dumb!"

She slammed the bathroom door, started the shower and he walked out. "Nice talk, Astrid. Love you too."

Following a meeting with Odin, Loki saw Thor hastily approaching within the corridor. "Brother!" He called in a disingenuous pronounced tone. "How art thou?"

Loki was dragged by the collar into a side room and assertively shoved him off. "I've repeatedly warned your bullying days are over. Do that again and find yourself in another dimension. Painstricken."

Thor locked the door. "I'm disappointed in you."

"I've an extensive list of mutual sentiment. Make an appointment and we'll talk."

"We'll talk now. Stark and I believe you've fathered a child on Midgard."

Loki proceeded to laugh. "Impossible...ludicrous. There isn't a female there nor here I haven't used a termination spell on."

"While they slept?"

"Precisely."

"What about the time you woke naked in a dumpster in California? With no recollection of how you arrived there after leaving a club with three women? Which one did you fuck?"

"None. The last thing I remember were two pleasuring each other on a bed while the third was on her knees pleasing me, when everything faded into blackness. Crazy bitches drugged me. I never saw the route travelled, the house number, nothing, but the inside of a bedroom and then the dumpster when a pigeon rammed its beak into my nostrils."

"You aren't making sense."

"I let them blind fold me in the car."

Thor choked back a laugh. "Midgardian females tricked the trickster?"

"Do I look amused? That was the last time I drank from a bottle I didn't personally open."

"Just listen?" ~ A half hour passed. ~ "I understand your lingering skepticism. At least come help the child. If you don't, Tony fears she may leave without him knowing."

"Fine, but what exactly am I to tell Astrid?"

Loki returned to his chambers to find a note on their bed; 'Gone to my parents for a week to cool off seeing as though you think I'm always angry.' He tossed it in the trash and left one for her; 'My turn to disappear. Janes on vacation so I've returned to Midgard to bond with big brother. Do say hello to your parents, my lovely. Kisses.'

"Satisfied, Thor? Now how do we keep Heimdall from tattling?"

"By leaving immediately. His new trainee is on duty."

"Maxome? That nincompoop will send us into orbit."

"Don't let appearances fool you. He looks like a troll, but knows his job. And Maxi Waxi takes bribes."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Impersonating a Prince of Asgard is punishable by death." *****

The bifrost vanished and Thor's phone immediately rang. "Slow down, Tony. We can take portal taxi to…" The call suddenly ended. "...the Towers underground."

Stark exited the elevator in hyperdrive. "Holy shit, am I glad to see you guys!" He poked Loki's arm. "E..specially..you, fornication fabler. Whatever big guy here told ya? I've an update. Not only is my guest up there adorable and a bonafide genius, but definitely of a life form I've yet to encounter."

"Have you been eating Count Chocula again?"

"No, but I know what you're thinking and get in line. Pepper already threatened to duct tape me to a wall."

"Relax, flying human."

"I'm relaxed every second I'm around that kid. Can't a guy unwind a little? This is me unwinding, okay? Stop talking because I'm talking."

Both Gods locked their lips with imaginary keys.

"The day after you left, Thor, I suggested Brianna and I bake cookies with M&M's, but asked she not tell Pepper as I get in trouble for sugar highs. Then I jokingly asked if she'd ever hidden cookies in her pockets and she said yes. 'Interdimensional pockets'."

Loki cocked a brow.

"Pshh, yeah, hello? The next day, she demanded to know where the clothes she'd arrived in were. Pepper had put them in the wash and Brianna raced to the laundry room, swung opened our front loader with magic, gathered them into a ball and screamed at us while her skin turned blue and eyes Ruby red. 'DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF! DON'T 'EVER' TOUCH MY STUFF!' I just about fucking shit myself!"

The God sighed. "You 'have' encountered that life form."

"Notta, buddy boy. I would've remembered."

"Are you wearing a diaper?"

"Huh?"

"Maybe you should be." Said Thor.

Loki stepped away and partially revealed himself. His skin turned blue, but remained human in texture and eyes reddened like Brianna's.

Stark backed into a pillar. "What the hell are you?"

"Remember I said he was adopted and later educated you on the nine realms?"

"Uh hu."

Loki returned to Aesir form. "I'm a Frost Giant from Jotunheim."

"Ha! I'm not a loon, after all!"

"No one thought you were."

"I knew Brianna was yours and Pepper wouldn't believe me! Wait, isn't that realm mostly ice? Can you conjure it out of nowhere?"

"Yes to both questions, but it's exhausting without the Casket of Ancient Winters. Why?"

"Whatever that is. Little Warrior can too."

"What did you just say?"

"After yelling at us she ran into her ensuite and we followed to find ice crystals forming around the edges of the closed door. It wouldn't budge and with our calls going unanswered for a good ten minutes, I panicked, took an axe to it and hacked into a thick inch layer of ice on the other side. Brianna was out cold in the tub, slept through the hacking to reach her, then for another seventeen hours. We were frantic."

"Take me to her, now." He commanded.

"Why the sudden urgency?" Asked Thor.

Loki had a foresight he opted not to share. "Shouldn't we both be eager to meet a child so skillful without the casket?"

The trio entered the elevator.

"You better not be thinking of turning Heimdall into an icicle again."

Loki bypassed him and eyed Tony. "Eh he he he."

"Screw you, Snowflake. These are jeans and a shirt. Not a silk, pink robe and yes I'm wearing underwear."

Thor smirked. "Ah, the Boopsicle story."

"That's nice. I'll bet he told you the pink fishnets story too."

Loki pursed his lips and Thor stopped smirking. "No. No he didn't."

Stark tried a witty save. "Pepper looked great in them. Sucks to be you for missing it."

"You let my brother see your lady in fishnets? I'd never let another guy see Jane in lingerie."

Thor was being so daft, Loki laughed harder and Tony frowned at him. "Asshole."

They exited and as Virginia approached with Brianna, amusement never left Loki so quickly. Thor had said she was young, but this child craning her head to look up at him barely reached the height of his hip. From everything learned of her, he'd imagined one sturdier, yet she resembled a miniature ballerina. So delicate and beautiful, how was she the daughter of a Frost Giant? Yet the evidence couldn't be denied. He was staring into a mirrored image of himself in female form. Her body structure, ivory skin and elegant features. The striking eyes, thick lashes and hair so black, hints of blue danced upon it like the feathers of a Ravens in daylight.

'"Hello. I'm Loki."

She offered a tiny hand to shake which vanished amidst his as her voice invoked a strange sense of familiarity. "Hi. I'm Brianna."

'Og Min Lille.' He quietly whispered. Then as overwhelming guilt struck from not knowing of her existence, she made him chuckle.

"Mythology states you're the God of Mischief, right?"

"Correct."

Her smile was enchantingly impish. A perfect replica of his own. "Then I believe we'll get along splendidly." She addressed the others. "Kindly excuse us. I wish to speak with Loki alone. Right this way." Brianna closed her bedroom door gesturing to a chair, then sent a blast of light from her hand towards the ceiling.

He watched it spread in a clear ripple down every wall and politely asked. "What did you do?"

"Created a special sound shield. We'll hear them, but they can't hear us. Unless I allow it." That and bypassing Jarvis, was how she'd snuck back to the sixtieth floor the previous night to retrieve a backpack hidden there.

Loki concealed astonishment as he hadn't mastered that trick until his early teens. "Very impressive."

"Thanks and for coming."

"A worthy venture to meet a fellow magician."

Brianna sat on the bed and gave him the strangest look. A combination of curiosity, bewilderment and resentment were he to guess. "I did tell Thor my questions regarded sorcery, but those can wait. First, tell me everything about your ancestry."

She couldn't have asked an odder question based on his secret foresight. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Because you're the only person who can explain exactly what I am, 'Dad'. Now start talking or Jarvis bites it."

[jonsastan]

A Week of Jonsa - @incorrectjonsansa

Day 1 -

You look like a movie, you sound like a song

.

Jonsa Pride and Prejudice Au.

Sansa smiled at Arya’s scowl as she’s whisked around the dance floor. Arya was annoyed at the amount of gentlemen who had asked for her hand in a dance. She should be complimented. At this dance ladies greatly outnumbered gentlemen. Robb and their new neighbour, Daenerys Targaryen, danced past Sansa, Robb smiling as he made Daenerys laugh. They would be a good match. She was the sister of some southern Lord and Robb was the heir to their father’s estate. A good match, as her mother kept insisting.

After a turn about the room, Sansa found herself near Daenerys’ quiet nephew, Jon. After a moment Daenerys came to her nephew.

“Come now Jon! I must have you dance! You cannot hang out in this stupid manner.”

“You know I do not enjoy dancing, especially with someone who I am not well acquainted with.” Jon replied.

“Look, there! That’s one of Mr Stark’s sisters! She extraordinarily beautiful, dance with her.” Daenerys was gesturing to Sansa, but Sansa made no sign that she could hear them.

“She is tolerable, I suppose.” came the cold voice of Jon Targaryen. “But not handsome enough to tempt me. Go, enjoy the charm of Robb Stark, your enthusiasm is wasted on me.”

Sansa suppressed a smile. Many would be insulted by this stranger’s harsh words but Sansa found amusement at this southern lords high handedness. She made her way calmly past him toward Arya, who was sitting out, to tell the joke.

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

It was with the greatest annoyance that Sansa allowed Jon Targaryen to be announced to her. She had begged off visiting his Father and Daenerys’ Brother, Rhaegar, but was now trapped with the more brooding of the two Targaryen sons.

He entered and began to converse about banal topics of her health and the weather, before kneeling before her.

“In vain I have struggled, it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” His voice began strong and assured, but soften at the end of his sentence. His grey eyes stared at hers and she felt her heart clench.

When he continued, she felt rage rise within her.

“Despite the history between my family and yours, despite the behaviour of your brothers and sister and even your father, despite the disparity between our stations in life, I wish to marry you.”

Sansa took a deep breath and rose from her seat, moving away from him and his emotive eyes.

“If I could feel gratitude now, I would thank you. But I cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. Please forgive me if I have given you any cause to believe that my affections were engaged or your to be encouraged, it was unconsciously done.” Her hands were clenched, her anger boiling beneath her cool exterior.

He moved to the mantle and took a breath. His eyes were filled with anger, confusion, pain.

“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected.” His voice burnt with anger.

“I might enquire with so little attempt to hide your own disdain for my character, family, and station you resolve to tell me you like be against your will! Was this not reason enough for any perceived incivility?” She snapped, turning to face him, her fists still clenched at her side. “Had my feelings toward you been neutral or even favourable, even those feelings would have died when you stole the happiness of a most beloved brother? And what of your crimes against Gendry Waters? Do you deny that you have revealed in his misfortune, in the scandal of his birth?”

“Yes, his misfortune. It is great indeed.” Jon all but scoffed.

“And now you ridicule him!”

“And this is your opinion of me?” Jon strode toward her, stopping mere inches from her person. “My faults by your calculation are great indeed, but perhaps they would not be so foul had I not insulted your pride by acknowledging the failings of your family or your status. Perhaps if I had flattered you, hidden my misgivings and lied about them you would have felt differently, But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence!”  He all but spat at her.

“You are mistaken, Mr Targaryen, if you believe the mode of your address could have affected my answer in any way. You have merely saved me any worry I might have felt at rejecting you had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry!”

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

Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. I merely wish to clarify some of the egregious charges laid before me by you.

You first charged me with the destruction of happiness of a most beloved brother. I had not been in Winterfell long when I saw, along with others, Daenerys’ preference to your brother above all others. I watched and observed their interactions and whilst Mr Robb Stark showed polite deference and cordiality to Miss Targaryen, I saw no unique favour or love. So to save a most beloved family member pain and heartache I separated the two.

If I was mistaken in my understanding of your brothers feelings, I apologise heartily and completely. I can offer the only defence that if the feelings between our two family members had been as powerful and consuming as you believe, a mere separation would not have hindered them.

The second charge you laid before me was my treatment of Gendry Waters. I will not deny that I have not acted to aid Mr Waters in his path in life, nor do I intend to. His family, having been closely entwined with my own, disgraced themselves thoroughly when they attempted to steal property, assets, and titles with a selfish motive. I have revealed in the bastard nature of Mr Waters birth when I was younger, and whilst I can see how this is an immature means of gloating, I cannot feel sorry for this. Mr Waters has shown himself to be a man of trade and mean understanding. He does not attempt to rise above his birth and better himself but will rely on the sympathy and pity of others. This behaviour is abhorrent to me.

If you have any doubts about the truth of the history between my family and Mr Waters, or the personal history between myself and that man, you may apply to my brother for a complete narrative. Although we have clashed and been at odds, I have always been honest with you.

I will end by saying I mean you no ill will and wish you all the best in your life.

Gods Bless and keep you.

Jon Targaryen.

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

“And to think, I could have been mistress of all this.” Sansa sighed as she took in the extensive and beautiful grounds of Dragonstone. There was a range to please all, manicured lawns, neat and tidy gardens, and a kind of rugged wilderness that reminded Sansa of Winterfell and the North.

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

They had been staying near Dragonstone for a couple of days, a tentative friendship being cultivated between Jon and herself, when the letter came from Robb. Arya had run off with Gendry Waters and Robb didn’t know where she had gone.

Jon had found her when she had read the letter. He had offered her support and care, sending for her parents, and then he’d left. And her heart ached. Ached for her sister, who may be lost, ached for her parents, and the worry they would suffer, ached for Jon Targaryen and the love that would never be.

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

Arya had returned from Kings Landing, as Arya Waters. Gendry had never had any ignoble intentions. He’d wanted to stay at Winterfell and plead with their parents to allow Arya to marry him. Arya had not wanted to wait, had not wanted permission. She wanted to marry Gendry and she had.

Her parents had been displeased and worried, having travelled half the countryside to find the couple before a scandal could emerge, but finally Gendry and Arya had turned up in the Vale as Mr and Mrs Waters.

It wasn’t until Arya was back in Winterfell and attempting to settle her life that she spoke of Jon.

“And Mr Targaryen was most kind once Gendry explained how he did not want to have anything to do with the Baratheons and their ridiculous attempt to-”

“Mr Targaryen?” Sansa interrupted. Arya nodded.

“He was at our wedding. He helped get Gendry capital to start the forge and offered to aid any venture Gendry would like to have in the south. He thought Gendry wanted to take over where Robert Baratheon had left off, but Gendry told Mr Targaryen that he had no such plans, he wanted to work hard and honestly and Mr Targaryen seemed to approve.”

“Mr Targaryen helped you wed? Helped Gendry raise capital?” Sansa felt all the breath leave her lungs. Her heart swelled at the generosity, the empathy, the open mindedness that Jon Targaryen must have shown to approach and aid Gendry and Arya, her heart shuddered at the thought that he was exposed further to the scandal and unconcern her family showed to society.

“He was most kind. He also mentioned that Daenerys and himself might be returning to the neighbourhood soon.” Sansa’s heart leaped.

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

“I will not have it Miss Stark, I will not.” Rhaegar Targaryen had spoken with a frank and almost callous manner. “Jon has been promised to his Martell cousins since birth. It was his grandfather’s greatest wish. You are not his equal in either status or breeding and I will not have it!”

“Excuse me sir! To what are you referring?” Sansa snapped, her blood boiling, her voice cooling.

“This preposterous rumour that you have engaged yourself to my son. I will not have it Miss Stark. It is impossible. Jon is man of breeding and status-”

“He is a gentleman, I am a gentleman’s daughter, thus far was are equal.” Sansa stood tall, determined not to be intimidated by this man.

“But you do not deny it! You do not deny that you are attempting to ensnare my son!”

“You yourself have declared such a union impossible!”

“Do you deny it? Are you engaged to my son?” Rhaegar’s face was turning an alarming shade of red.

“No.” Sansa said, her voice firm, her heart aching a little at the truth.

“And can you promise me to never engage yourself to him?” Rhaegar's colour was beginning to fade.

“No.”

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

Robb had wasted no time once Daenerys Targaryen had resumed residence around Winterfell. He had called on her and Jon and asked for her hand in marriage. It was a most joyous occasion. In the days following Sansa found herself in the company of Jon an awful lot, but never alone. She wished to thank him for the service he had rendered to her family.

Finally, as Robb and Daenerys strolled in front of them Bran said he was going to go and visit with Meera and Jojen Reed, leaving Jon and Sansa to chaperone the engaged couple.

It was a moment before Sansa mustered up the courage to speak.

“Mr Targaryen, I am a selfish creature and as such will give myself relief, even it means exposing you to embarrassment.” She dared not look at him, at those grey eyes that seemed to know her very being. “Thank you, for you assistance in securing the happiness to one beloved sister and one beloved brother. You have done my family a great service. Thank you sir.”

“If you must thank me, let it be for yourself alone.” She stopped and looked at him. His voice was tender, vulnerable. “As much as I have come to admire and respect your family, I believe I thought of you alone.” Her breath hitched in her breast and her heartbeat so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.” His eyes suddenly would not meet hers. He stared at his feet.

“My affections have changed so much since then. They are now quite opposite.” Jon’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. They were filled with such joy, such hope, such love that Sansa could not help the giggle that seemed to overflow from her lips. She turned from him, not trusting herself to not act in a manner most compromising and attempted to uncover the evolution of his feelings.

“How did you know my feelings were not the same?” She asked.

“My father.” He chuckled at this. “He was most displeased after his attack upon you. When he told me you refused to promise never to engage yourself to me… It taught me to hope, as I had never hoped before.”

Sansa let her fingers brush his and before she realised what she’d done, their hands were entwined.

“But how did you begin?” She asked, not acknowledging their clasped hands as they walked. “I can see you continuing charmingly once you had fallen, but I cannot grasp or comprehend a beginning.” She teased.

“I cannot fix upon the hour, or the spot, or the look that laid the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.” He murmured, his voice full of emotion and tender care. Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the sweet words that her love had whispered to her and her alone. “And what of you? When did your feelings alter so drastically?”

Unable to resist teasing him she replied “Upon seeing the grounds of Dragonstone.” Jon laughed and Sansa decided she wanted to hear that sound everyday for the rest of her life.

[elisha-mikealson]

1. After 1,000 Years

My name is Elisha, Elisha Mikaelson, I've learned that I'm named after my father, Elijah, but I've never met him. I turned about 1000 years ago and I haven't left where I am at today, Mystic Falls, Virginia I haven't left here since my first transition. I've transitioned thousands of times and somehow I've been able to control it. To change whenever I want, wherever I want. It's quite freeing actually. Anyways, I've stayed around Mystic Falls as it came to be what it is nowadays. I lost contact with anyone in the Mikaelson bloodline, but Esther does come to me in dreams telling me that everything will be okay. Until one day she came to me and said that my father would be arriving outside of town and that I should meet with him. It was easy enough since I hang around the Petrova doppelganger, Elena, so after the founders masquerade ball when she gets taken I get taken as well. It was part of my plan and it worked. When I woke up from being knocked out I see that I'm sitting slumped over on the couch as Elena is curled up on the other side.

"You realize that they aren't going to hurt you right?" I ask looking at her.

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because they want to hand you over to a guy by the name of Elijah Mikaelson to try to get off his naughty list, but I have a feeling that that's not going to happen- them getting on his good side I mean."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I have ears Elena, and I may or may not be a supernatural creature of wonder," I laugh a little at my clever response when I hear the front door open as a guy that I recognize the smell of walks in the room quietly. I only partially listen to the conversation between the female and Elijah before they both walk into the room.

"You're here great," I say getting up and vamp speeding over to the women, "I'm leaving but I figured I would say goodbye and your friend over there won't stop fidgeting which is making the slightest noise but is annoying the crap out of me."

"I'm sorry who are you?" Elijah asks.

"Well, I'm insulted that you don't recognize me," I say fake hurt and he gives me a confused look, "1001," I say before walking past him, but he grabs my arm, "I'm not leaving the house Elijah, just simply leaving the room, I know you have more questions for me, but you have more pressing matters to attend to," with that I walk out of the room into one of the side rooms.

After about five minutes Elijah walks in, "Who are you, and I want an answer this time."

"Elisha Mikaelson, born 986 to a Mariah Addams and her side guy Elijah Mikaelson. When Nicholas found out I wasn't his he started to beat me, that's when my mother found Esther and made a deal with her to teach me magic since I am a witch, but my mother was a wolf so that made me a hybrid. Then when your brother, Henrik, died when him and Niklaus decided to watch the wolves and they got attacked, I was the one that drew the wolf away from them to make their escape."

"You were the little girl that was at the edge of the woods," he says.

"Yeah, it was the pack that I was in that did it, more specifically Nicholas, he was the guy I called father before I knew that he wasn't, he knew what he was doing when he attacked your family. He thought it was one of them that was my father, but it was neither, like I said before."

"You said that I am your father which is impossible."

"I happened before we were turned," I say as I take down one of the boards on the windows, "can you have your moles give me back my daylight right?" I ask turning to him, "I know I don't need it but it's nice to have, it was my mother's, and if I have to get it back heads will roll," after I say this a see a small smile on his face as he nods.

"Gladly, but how do I know you are telling the truth?"

I sigh at this and motion for him the come closer as I pull out a pocket knife and pull over a table, "it's a simple spell, our blood mixes fully then you are my father, if it doesn't well Esther will have a pretty pissed off tribrid and frankly I'm not fun when I'm pissed," with that I slice my hand and hand him the blade for him to do the same. Once there was enough blood pulled on the table I start the spell. Within 2 minutes our blood was fully mixed together and I look at him, "there you have it, and if you don't trust me, I know other witches that can do the same spell and come out with the same result."

"I don't think that will be necessary," he says standing up, "we must be leaving soon, let's go collect the Petrova doppelganger," he says as we starts to walk away and I follow. Once we get back into the room I see the two from before just standing there as Elena is sitting on the couch. The guy starts talking and I ignore him as Elijah starts to circle him. I walk over and sit next to Elena and I can sense her uneasiness.

"You'll be fine, just calm down," I tell her as Elijah slaps the guy so hard that it decapitates him, now that's how you make heads roll.

There was the sound of glass breaking and Elijah looks at the girl, "who else is in the house?"

"I don't know," there was another crashing sound and I was able to smell who it was. Salvatore's, of course.

Elijah grabs Elena and we move to the entryway, "come out now," he announces as one of the Salvatores speed past us.

"Up here," Damon says and Elijah speeds up the steeps.

"No down here," he comes down the steps and I try to focus on where the two are at.

"If i have to come and get you I assure you someone's head is going to roll and it won't be mine," Elijah says.

"You think you can beat us, but you can't." I say as Elena walks out from one of the hiding places and Elijah walks up the steps.

"You're right, I'll come just don't hurt my friends," that's when I notice the grenade thing that she had right before she threw it. I was quick and took most of the vervain.

"I tried to play it nice and let you guys walk out of here but I don't know if I can let that now," Elijah says as he makes a stake out of the coat rack. I stayed back as Damon and Stefan fight Elijah before Damon stakes him.

"Come on let's go," Damon says to me as I continue to just stare at Elijah's face.

"Go, I'll take care of the body, I'll meet you guys back in town okay?" they nod and leave. I wait to make sure that the car is out of hearing range before pulling the stake out knowing that would only be minutes till he wakes up. I sit on the steps as i wait until I hear his heartbeat return to normal and look up, "would you look at that sleeping beauty woke up," I laugh slightly at this, "oh and here," I say tossing him a blood bag, "it was empty but I found a nice rabbit outside, figured would help you gain some of your strength back till you can get some actual blood."

"It's better than nothing at this point," he sighs drinking it.

"Do you want to go back to my place, it's right outside of town and you'll be able to watch over everything," i say standing up and walking down the steps, "just say the word and i'll take you there, unless of course you already have a place," i say and he smiles slightly.

"I would love to see where you have been staying," he offers me his hand which i just basically high five it before walking out.

"I'm not about that in times like this, you should learn some things about me," i laugh at this as i walk over to his car, "you coming?" i ask as i shake the keys in my hand which i so expertly slipped off him.

"How did you-"

"Slip them off you?" he nods, "i'm sneaky, i am a tribrid after all, i could use magic to lift them up and my speed to take them. Oh and you may be older than me body wise, but power wise no one stands a chance."

"Now you kinda sound like Katrina," Elijah laughs a little at this.

"Do not compare me to her, god I want to kill her, i almost killed Elena thinking it was Katherine, whoops," i say starting the car.

"You almost killed the doppelganger?"

"That was before i knew she was a doppelganger obviously, i wouldn't purposefully take out the person that could possibly help some people."

"Is my brother one of them?" he asks curiously.

"Depends if he wants to be a 100% asshole to me then hell no," he laughs at this again as i start to drive, "but know i found a couple wolves on the outskirts of town then i've been trying to help, they are trying to go after the moonstone," there was silence for a minute, "they don't know what has to be done and if the do they don't care. I've grown close to Elena and her friends and i don't care if i have to be stuck with the wolf cures, i beat it pretty much."

"How though?"

"I forced myself to change until i could do it without any pain and i could change at will," i sigh slightly, "it was hell, but it feels good to be free, these wolves are asking for my help, and i plan on give it to them. They have been good to me so i'm willing to help unless they start causing trouble for me."

"I can kinda see how we are related now," Elijah laughs a little at this.

We were driving in complete silence which got boring after about two minutes, "okay how do you drive in silence?" i ask as i turn on the radio. The music was soft and mellow but it took away the silence that was defining. It was close to fifteen minutes later when i was pulling into the driveway then into the garage, "home sweet home," i say getting out of the car tossing Elijah the keys, "follow me," i walk into the house sensing almost immediately one of the wolves, "who decided to come into my home uninvited?" i ask rather loudly as i put my jacket on the back of a chair walking over to the fridge, "stop hiding, he's not going to hurt you," i toss Elijah a blood bag as he looks of me confused and i motion to my ear, "come on, any day now," i call once more as one of the wolves i've been working with comes out.

"Elisha, i thought you were dead," Oliver says.

"I actually have to laugh at that," i tell him, "i told you, it would take a lot to kill me," i say walking over to Oliver, "now why are you here?"

"It's Rosa, she's going off the deep end again," he sighs.

"Why does this concern me exactly?"

"She triggered her curse this time, all the others were near misses, but this time-"

I cut him off, "why weren't you watching her? You had one job," i vamp speed over to him pinning him against the wall.

"I had to go see my sister, she was sick," he tries to reason to me, "i would have taken her with me, but i didn't want her to also get sick."

"Who did you leave her with?"

"Jessica, she was supposed to keep her in the house for two hours, but she let Rosa out of her sight for five minutes."

"It only takes one to kill someone Oliver, you of all people should know that," i let him go before walking over to the fridge to grab the bag of blood i opened last night as i grab a glass and poured it in i also grab the bottle of Wolf's Bane that i have and pour it into a glass, "here, you need to calm down, i will help her like i helped the rest of you," i hand him the glass and he downed it choking almost immediately, "but that still does not change the fact that you went against your word to me, i don't take that lightly," he looks up at me with terrified eyes, "bring her to me, and i'll think about giving you my forgiveness, but don't count on it," he nods before running out of the house as i grab the glass and walk over to mine that is sitting on the counter.

"Who was that?"

"A puppy that i've been working with, he is one of the most loyal out of all of them. A slip up from him means a sip up from the rest of them. Rosa is like the younger sister i never had and i ask them to watch her for one day and this is what happened. She is just a little girl, she is too young to have to deal with the supernatural world," i through the glass that once had the wolf's bane at the wall, i can tell this caught Elijah off guard as i look at him. That's when i realize my eyes changed and i looked away, "sorry, i just can't believe it happened to her. Jessica's gonna pay though, and she better be ready," i take a drink of my blood and caught a little bit, "god i forgot to mix this up."

"What's in that?" Elijah asks picking up the glass to smell it.

"Vervain and Wolfsbane mixed with blood, i built up a tolerance so i'm not phased by it if someone thinks they can torture me since they can't kill me."

"That's not a bad idea," he nods to this, "but why am i not affected?"

"Because i mix it as i go, that was an unopened bag so it wasn't mixed in any way."

"Okay what about earlier today with the Vervain grenade?"

"I didn't know that they had that, but as soon as i saw it i knew i would be less affected by it then you so i made my move. It hit me and by the time your skin was just starting to heal i was already healed," i say as i walk to the fridge and grab the bottle of vervain, "here let me show you," i sit the bottle down and open it up and pour a little bit in the glass. I stick a finger in and pull it out when it started to burn, "if you put your hand in there you won't be able to keep it in there for to long."

"You can't be compelled anyways so why do you do this other than the entire torturing thing, which makes no sense since you are strong."

"To be honestly, i don't know if you could compel me, i was changed after you and your siblings, but i'm a tribrid which makes me stronger. I don't want to take that risk though, i prefer that when i'm around people to be me and to have level head."

"That's understandable," he nods as the door opens and i use my speed to pin the person to the wall.

"Elisha, it's me," Oliver says.

"Slip up number 2 Oliver, three strikes and you're out," i push away from him and turn to see Jessica walking with Rosa.

"Elisha!" Rosa running over to give me a hug.

"Hey little one, how are you?"

"I'm good, i feel like i'm a lot stronger than i used to be, but that's it," i smile at her.

"Well come on i got something i want to give you," i say as i take her hand walking into the kitchen were Elijah was still standing.

"Who's that? He smells weird," Rosa says wrinkling her nose up in disgust.

"Rosa this is Elijah, he's a friend, you can trust him," i tell her as i let her go and grab a glass and put a little bit of wolfsbane in it then diluted it with water, "here drink this," she nods and takes a sip coughing a bit before drinking the rest, "what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Rosa you know what i mean," i say picking her up and sitting her on a chair, she looks over at Jessica and Oliver then back at me, "you two can leave, i'll find you later," they nod and leave the house, "you're safe now okay?" she nods as she starts to cry.

"I didn't mean to, he was coming after Max and me, he hurt Max and the only thing i could do was stop him," i pull her into my chest as she continues to cry.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay."

"I don't want to change," she cries more.

"You have to now, but i'll help you," i pull her away from me slightly and wipe her tears away, "i'll get you through this, i promise you," she nods and i hug her again, "Elijah can you grab her a glass of water?" i whisper knowing that he heard when he moved and got the glass. I motion for him to follow me as i pick her up and carry her to one of the extra rooms and lay her down taking the glass from Elijah's hand, "drink this and get some rest, we will fight this tomorrow okay?" she nods taking the glass before drinking some of the water. She sits the glass down and crawls under the blankets. "Somnus," i say placing my hand on her head as she falls asleep easily. I motion for Elijah to leave as i make sure everything is put away in the room that would need to be put away.

"What was that?" he asks.

I motion for him to sit on the couch as i sit across from him, "Somnus, is a simple spell i learned that will put someone to sleep, i could do it to you right know if i so please," he nods to this, "so i'm guessing you want to know a little bit about myself since i'm the mystery Mikaelson child that should not in all means should have been born, but i was."

"Yes i would certainly like to know, especially since i never knew you existed. If i did trust me i would have kept you with me, or at least hid you so no one would find you."

"When you say no one do you mean Mikael?" he nods to this, "don't worry, he wants me dead for being anything similar to Niklaus," he gives me a confused look and i sigh, "let me start from the beginning," he nods to this so i begin, "My story is really confusing when you think about it because the guy i was calling father was never actually my father and the women that lived by me and taught me magic was my grandmother. I didn't know that at the time. Nicholas, the man i called father for the first 15 years of my life, hated me when he found out that i wasn't his. He only found out because i was a hybrid. My mom and 'dad' were both in a pack of wolves with no magical background, but my actual father had to be a witch, leaving only your family, the question was which one was it. My mother tried to protect me from Nicholas's raft but it never worked so when I started to show signs of magic she sent me to the only other person that knew who my true father was, Esther. She taught me how to control my power and what herbs i could use to help heal people. It was wonderful until Esther's husband, Mikael, showed up one day in a bad mood and it scared me. Granted Esther had hid me so he wouldn't see me, but i didn't want to return to their home after that so Esther and i started to meet in the woods, just outside of the village and my pack's territory. I would never meet her on a full moon knowing that my pack would be out waiting for someone to come into their territory to attack.

"I was out wandering one day on a full moon, watching my pack and observing what they did when i noticed that there were two people also watching. Before i could do anything someone from the pack caught them, attacking. I jumped out of my hiding spot and distracted the wolf as i saw the one guy grab the other and run out of the woods. I was able to get under cover again and have the wolf lose the track it had on me quickly before running in the same direction as the two guys. Once i got to the edge of the woods i could see a family morning and i basically stop dead when i recognize Esther. When i look at the family i notice two people staring at me, the one i recognize as Mikael, the other i want to say was you from the way he was dressed and his mere appearance. You started to walk towards me but i saw Mikael stop you before i ran back into the woods to my home. It wasn't long after that that Esther told me that she doesn't want to lose and of her children or grandchild. I was confused at first then she explained everything to me about how my mother and her son were secretly together but broke it off when i was born. That's when she showed me the spell she was going to do to make her family imortal, i was included. I told her that i would do it, if i didn't have to be there when she did the rest of her family, she agreed. That night she turned her family and once they were all lying on the ground unconscious i came out of the shadows and she did it to me, except she hid me when i was unconscious.

"When i woke up i saw the family sitting around the fire and i wanted to go over to them, but i knew i couldn't. Then the hunger sunk in, i was hungry not for food, but blood. I new it was to dangerous for me to stay around the village so i ran to my pack. I found Nicholas sitting in the small living room in our home and it looked like he was attacked. I questioned him about it but he never answered, just got up and walked over to me, that's when i noticed the cut on his arm and i could feel the hunger grow. When he was close to me i used my small size to duck under his arm before using my strength to pin him to the wall as i sink my teeth into his arm. I pulled away after a little bit and i could feel the pointed teeth poke through my gums as the veins come out of my eyes. Nicholas looked terrified as i sunk my teeth into his neck and drained him. I regretted it once i let his body drop because i knew i killed him triggering the cures. I screamed in pain as every single done in my body broke until i was a wolf. I ran out of the house and into the woods to a location i knew all too well. That's when i see people standing there and i stay hidden, waiting, to see what their move was going to be. I smelled blood when i see the one guys face, it was one of Esther's sons i wasn't sure which one though. Once he let the body drop to the ground and turned to face Mikael he dropped to the ground screaming. He was a wolf. Something felt off when i was around him, but i couldn't place it. I could see something in Mikael's eyes when he said something about the guy not being his own. Then i saw him grabbing a stake and moving to the guy as he was still on the ground. I had to do something so i jumped out of my hiding spot and stood in between the guy and Mikael.

"I growled at him as i showed my teeth, i could see his hesitation before he came after me and i lunged at him tackling him to the ground snapping at his face. I let my teeth graze over his skin and i left a few scratch marks before getting off of him to see the guy fully transformed. I heard a howl and looked at him before running off I knew he followed me. It was maybe an hour or two when i started to grow tired and i could tell that i would be changing back and i knew it was the same for the guy so i ran back to where he was at before and he followed. He changed back first and i could see that his energy was drained, but i was able to find his clothes giving them to him. He somehow found the energy to at least put on his pants before collapsing. I grab his pant leg and dragged him back to his home somehow undetected before running back to my home where i curl up onto the door step and fell asleep. When i woke up the next morning i was in my bed with blankets over me. My brother was sitting next to me, he told me that he also somehow triggered his curse but was able to bounce back a lot easier."

Elijah almost looks shocked, "how do you know Mikael wants you dead?"

"I stayed here in Mystic Falls for most of my life, but i did make a trip to New Orleans when i heard you were there, but when i got there all that was left was Mikael, he thought I helped you all escape since he recognized me. He was going to kill me, but i was able to use my power to stop him. That's how he knows that i'm a tribrid. I first tried to just scare him off by showing my wolf side, but that just seemed to enrage him, probably because my eyes are so recognizable compared to other wolves. When he knew that i was the wolf that stopped him from killing Niklaus all those years ago he came after me so i used my magic. He told me that once he took down Niklaus that he would come after me, with all his children at his side. I tried my best to find any of you. I talked to Marcellus Gerard to see where i could find any of your possessions. I tried every tracker spell possible but i couldn't find you. Esther came to me in my sleep and told me that if you don't want to be found you can't be found, not even by magic. She assured me that you all were safe and if Mikael came close to finding you that she would let me know where you were at and if she thinks that you would need my help so i could come," i look down at the ground.

"She never contacted you," he says and i nod.

"But she did when you came into town. I purposely got myself kidnapped with Elena so i could met you because i know you never knew i excited and i didn't want to be my mother's secret anymore. I want to help my family, even if it is only you," i look at him with serious eyes, "my mother, i somehow turned her into a hybrid, she bowed down to everything i said, but she would never tell me anything about you, i hated her for it. Then again she told me that i should have never been born, called me a disgrace, the list goes on," i sigh slightly at this, "i know that none of it was true, if it was she wouldn't have been so loyal to me. That was until after i went to New Orleans and she followed me, she told Mikael everything how i am nothing more than an unwanted child just like Niklaus. That was of course after he recognized me, she also told him that i would always help you and your siblings run, just as i promised, Always and forever. She used my words against me, i told her that family to me is always and forever, but that didn't matter. When i ran back here to mystic falls she followed and i killed her."

"Where did you get the phrase always and forever from?" Elijah asks looking up at me.

"It was in a dream i had, i don't remember it in detail, but i just remember the phrase Always and Forever and that's how i see family. I didn't want to kill my mother, but i knew that Mikael had a which put a spell on her so he could track her and in teams track me, if he came there would be a bloodbath and i was not about that. Then you have my brother-"

"Which is wondering why there is a guy in the house," my brother says.

"Brother its so nice to have you home," i say standing up and walking over to him, "so what did your adventures bring this time for me to clean up?"

"Nothing at all dearest sister," he says, "that's what i got Mathew for."

"When you go away but when you're here it's my job to clean up after you, and frankly i better not here that people in the town start going missing, or anyone around here for that matter."

"Why is that?" i could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Well the dearest Salvatore brothers are back in town and animal attacks are on the rise. Meanwhile i don't need you eating people that can play a key factor in a plan of mine, if you're hungry there are plenty of blood bags in this house," i tell him and he just kind of smirks.

"Whatever you say," he laughs, "still who is the boy toy over there?"

"One he is not a boy toy he is like me to a point and if you so much as try to go against him you won't have to worry about him you'll have to deal with me."

"Still not answering my question."

"My name is Elijah," said person says standing up and walking over.

"Elijah as in your father Elijah or is this someone else?"

"Cuan, you're drunk, go up to your room and sleep it off, we'll talk about this tomorrow when you are in your right mind."

"When do you think you could start telling me what to do?" he asks stepping closer to me, but i was quick to pin him to the nearby wall.

"The moment i turned you 1000 years ago, and the fact that i am your alpha," i could tell that my eyes where my werewolf blue ones.

"Okay," he says as i let him go and he walks away.

"Sorry about that, he is quite a nuisance when he is drunk."

"I don't mind, he reminds me of my siblings."

"Please tell me it's not one in particular because if it is they sound like they need a babysitter."

He laughs slightly at this, "no not one in particular, but he does remind me a little but of Kol and of Niklaus."

"I want to know more about your siblings, all Esther ever said was their names and a little about them, but that's it."

"Well those are tails for a latter date," he says and i'm confused till i look at the time: midnight.

"Do you have a place to stay for the night?"

"No, but it shouldn't be to hard to find somewhere."

"It won't because you are staying here, i can grab you some clothes," i offer and he smiles a bit, "follow me," with that i lead him up to a spare bedroom before going into my brothers room to grab one of his shirts and a pair of sweatpants, "here, these should fit you."

"Thank you."

"It's not a problem, i finally have someone that i'm related to by blood, i'm going to help you, always and forever."

"Always and forever," he says back to me with a small smile as i leave the room. Once i get to mine which was just next to Elijah's i change quickly checking my phone.

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

You can pick which ocs or all or none! Just some general questions: what's their daily routine? Dream job? Favorite baby names? Favorite animal? And comfort movie/movie genre?

ANON HELLO LOVE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKIN!! :D

This is gonna be for all of them, sooo…. under the cut bc I’m Considerate X’D

Daily Routine:

JuneWake up at 5AM because they crashed out on the couch and forgot to shut the blinds the whole way so Bright, stumble into bed till 10AM when their dog Taco wakes them up again. They feed him, have breakfast (usually leftovers.) Occasionally at this point they will go back to Hell for a while, check up on things (they are the Master of the Kennels after all, Dante’s happy to cover for them most of the time but they still have some Responsibilities.) On a normal day, though, they’ll probably just stay inside watching the worst Netflix has to offer (they love picking things apart/making fun at how bad it is.) In the evening, they always take Taco out for a walk (sometimes they do so in the morning as well.) Once it gets dark, they go out to the night’s bad diner/restaurant/fast food place and have fun terrifying the humans. Then they come home, have a shower/bath, do a face-mask, read one of the numerous shitty romance novels they have, and end up falling asleep on the couch most nights.

AugustWake up at 6AM or 12PM depending on whether or not she drank herself into unconsciousness the night before. Eat some healthy breakfast involving a lot of fruit (especially peaches, she loves peaches), and then she usually goes for a nice flight to stretch her wings for the day + wake up properly. After that, it’s work at home time (if she’s employed, sometimes she’s not.) Due to her ADHD, she suffers a lot from lack of focus and executive dysfunction, in order to combat that, she takes several long breaks throughout the day: to work out, to eat lunch, and to practice dance. When the sun sets, she eats dinner, goes for another flight, has a shower/bath, pampers herself a bit, and then practices her sword-play until 10PM, when she goes to bed or starts drinking till she passes out, depends. She has a few days a week dedicated to dancing, and goes to visit her siblings frequently - not to mention that her routine changes whenever she has a partner.

MyriadHonestly, they don’t have a routine. They’re so chaotic and they act almost entirely on their whims; if they want to do something, they will do it. The only consistent things in their life are hanging out with their many friends and doing their job, AKA. punishing the wicked in the most painful ways they can think up. So they could spend a day go-karting, a day assassinating someone for a lot of money, a day watching Disney films, a day spent in a club, a day fighting a unicorn while Mothman and a Jersey Devil watch and take bets, honestly who knows, my dude.

GingerShe never stays in one place too long and is travelling most of the time (she prefers driving to flying, and will hellgate her way onto a different continent instead of take a plane.) She’ll wake up either in the back of her car or in a cheap roadside motel and get on the road, stopping at any place that looks interesting (she’s especially fond of retro diners…. and yes, if there’s a jukebox, she will absolutely select a few What’s New Pussycat-s.) Might drop by to visit some friends, might flirt with a few girls as she goes. A life of adventure, rinse and repeat.

DanteDepends on where he is (eg. in Hell vs with Jesse and Vrox in their apartment), but the foundations stay the same: wake up early, take a shower, eat breakfast, warm up, work out, and then get down to business. Even if he wasn’t in Hell, he’ll go back there because managing the Kennels is his job, after all. He’ll check in on all the hounds, make sure everybody is accounted for and that nothing disastrous has happened (looking at you, Alric, we don’t eat people, do we?) He’ll check in on any new souls/hounds that have joined during the night and give them an explanation and welcome them into the pack. Then it’s time for lessons: aka, fight training. He normally teaches in big classes since it’s more efficient, but he occasionally does it one-on-one or two-on-one, etc. He also has an on-off mortal job teaching self defense when he feels like it. By the time it’s done, the day’s over. He might crash out straight away, or he’ll go back to earth and spend the night with Jesse and Vrox, or he’ll go and check up on June and spend time with them. Of course, he has days off, but this is his usual routine.

JesseWakes up at about 5:30AM, takes a minute to regret staying up till 3AM the night before, says good morning to boyfriend(s) within hearing range, puts his earbuds in to listen to music (alternatively talks to Dante if he’s there, because he’d always get up at the same time as him), then makes himself an absurdly big bowl of cereal and chows down. He has a job as a cashier in a 7-Eleven on weekdays so he normally goes to that, he also has an art class in the evenings every Tuesday. After his shift, he’ll go and check in on Vrox, who volunteers at an animal shelter, and they’ll normally go and get a late lunch. Then it’s normally home, or, if it’s a Tuesday, home by 10PM. He normally selects an album of choice and cranks the volume on the speakers, orders takeout for dinner, has a shower (using most of the hot water, rip Vrox), and dances (badly) with his boyfriend(s) until it’s time for bed. But… to put it delicately… not a lot of sleep happens right away. ahem. Also, if there is some kind of protest that he agrees with, he is most likely in on it holding a sign. He and Vrox have fighting lessons with Dante just like all the other hounds.

VroxUsually wakes up when Jesse does, but goes back to sleep because his shift starts at 9:30. He gets up, eats the leftover takeout if there is any leftover from Jesse’s bottomless pit of a stomach, and heads off. He’ll send a bunch of cute/funny photos and texts to Jesse throughout the day about the animals. Most of the time he schedules his therapy appointments for Tuesdays so while Jesse’s at art class he’s also doing something productive. He goes home afterward, has a quick shower in fear of the hot water running out because his asshole boyfriend always uses all of it, has dinner, enjoys the skull-shaking music blasting through the apartment, and goes to bed. He often loses control of his anger and needs to be locked up in a cage in Hell for a few days until he can change back from his hound form, but mostly his life is pretty uneventful.

BenHe’s a consistent little mouse man who tries to keep his head down and whose life has no surprises or excitement whatsoever. He wakes up at 7AM, has a shower, makes an instant coffee while he gets dressed, and goes to work, most often without any breakfast. He’s a teacher, so he’ll work the whole day, grab a sandwich from the little shop on the corner not far from the school when he has a moment, and then when the day’s over he’ll go home, heat up some canned soup or something and eat dinner while reading. He’ll go to bed, read for a few hours and most likely fall asleep while reading in the most uncomfortable position possible. Rinse and repeat. His only source of excitement is when Ginger shows up without warning and drags his boring ass out to do something fun for once.

EmalaLike her older brother, Emala is very dedicated to her work, which is in her case being a nurse at a children’s hospital. It takes up most of her time and she feels guilty any days she takes off, thinking that she should be there for the kids, and that as an angel she could do a better job of taking care of them and keeping them safe (not that she ever thinks this as insult toward human nurses, they are saints in her eyes and extremely talented.) She has a routine that runs super smoothly, get up early, drink some citrus tea, make her bed, say hello to her pet bird Sweet, have some breakfast, and go to work. When she gets home she lets Sweet out again, makes dinner, has a bath, occasionally does a face mask if she has the energy left or otherwise just moisturizes her skin, then crawls into bed, and admittedly cries most nights. Her job is incredibly taxing on her, she feels like she fails with every patient lost, and crying helps. She’s a big campaigner for unashamed crying. On her rare days off she either spends time with her siblings, goes for a wander around the city, or takes an Uber out into the countryside and finds somewhere nice for a picnic… but honestly most of the time she just chills out in her apartment with Sweet, reading, drinking tea and watching art tutorials because they are deeply calming to her.

MarsMars tends to spend a lot more time in Heaven than his siblings: he is the leader of his particular ‘family’ of angels, so he has more responsibilities than they do (it’s a running joke that he just boils with fond exasperation that they get to run around doing whatever they want while he has the ~REAL~ work.) Much like Dante with the pack, Mars make sure nothing disastrous is happening, that nobody in the family is breaking God’s rules, that they’re guarding the humans correctly, etc. When he is on earth, he enjoys travelling and doing whatever he wants whenever he wants. While he has no patience for work, he does greatly enjoy learning, so he often takes classes on subjects he is interested in. He has a lot of friends so he spends a lot of time at parties, mostly holding them himself since his homes have a lot of space. And if he has a partner at the time, he will be spending a lot of time with them… unfortunately. And he visits his baby sisters a lot, because Father knows he needs to look after them.

TacoBARK AT PIGEONS. A LOT. ANNOY THE MASTER. A LOT. EAT. A LOT. COMPLAIN ABOUT NOT HAVING ENOUGH FOOD. A LOT. BITE THE MASTER’S FEET. A LOT. WAG TAIL VERY A LOT. GO FOR A LOT WALK. MAKE NEW A LOT NEW FRIENDS. NAP. A LOT. FUN!! :D

Dream Jobs:

JuneThey landed their dream job already. Master of Hell’s Kennels. Very minimal work on their part since their second-in-command does most of it gladly. All they have to do is check on things every once in a while, other than that, they can kick back and relax. As you may be able to tell, June is a lazy little bugger - and proud of it, too!

AugustShe actually likes her current job quite a bit: graphic design. It’s calming for her, she gets to be creative, and since she can work from home, she can adjust it as needed for their mental health. She also tried being a ballet teacher… she liked it in theory, but she’s not the best teacher, unlike her eldest brother.

MyriadThey own several nightclubs, they also have a tendency of making certain people disappear while also mysteriously acquiring a large amount of cash around the same time. Generally if you pay them, they’ll do pretty much anything… just make sure you don’t try to sic them on a target who is a good person, that won’t end well for you since they always do their research. But they are the demon of punishment, and the work they were made for is by far their favourite job.

GingerShe’s had pretty much every job there is to have in her very long life, but none of them suit her. She prefers to be a free, unemployed bird with all her amassed money, only working when she absolutely has to. She’s no exactly picky though when it comes to it, so long as she’s not stuck behind a desk/generally unable to move around, she is an energetic gal.

DanteSoldier. But since June’s grounded him from fighting in any more wars since he almost got himself killed last time (and almost left THEM with the full responsibility of the pack, how dare he, it’s not at all like they actually care about him or anything it’s not at all like that) he’s fallen back to the next best thing: self defense training (and in the case of the pack, war training.) He likes the idea of helping people become stronger and more confidant, with the upside of maybe saving some lives. He also likes being the pack’s enforcer and June’s second-in-command. He enjoys looking after his new, big family, and he’s always been a natural leader.

JesseFamous artist. At least, that was his dream as a little kid. Now with the whole ‘living forever’ thing, he’s sort of given up. He doesn’t want to have to fake his own death or anything. He doesn’t really know what he wants anymore, and while that does make him feel sad and listless at times, he’s also pretty content with his life at the moment.

VroxHas never had any idea. He really like being around animals, though, maybe when he’s got his anger issues more under-control he’ll seek out actual work with them, like being a dog trainer.

BenBefore he fell, he was very reckless and irresponsible and never wanted to do anything work-related. After he fell, he realized what a jackass he’d been and also realized that A) he’d always loved kids, B) he has a fuck ton of knowledge due to how long he’d been alive, and C) wanted to become a teacher. He threw himself into the career and he loves it.

EmalaShe’s the angel of healing, it’s always been her thing. She flits from being a nurse to being a doctor every couple of centuries or so, and she prefers to work in children’s hospitals since she has a soft spot for kids, like her older brother.

MarsHas always been pretty happy with being the leader of his angelic family, even if he does complain about his little sisters getting off Scot-free while he got landed with it. He has absolutely no patience for mortal jobs, though, especially since his time on earth is his free time, he doesn’t want another job.

TacoIs very happy + content with his role as June’s therapy animal companion and protector (because a tiny black pug is absolutely terrifying and very fierce and absolutely nobody would mess with him.)

Favourite Baby Names:

Honestly part of the reason this took so long was because I was wracking my brains trying to think what they liked, but they wouldn’t talk to me about it. A lot of them have literally never thought about it, since demons are infertile (or rather, they think they are) and angels are forbidden from ever having children - and most of them don’t give a shit. But, that being said:

JuneThey were going to name their baby girl Lía.

AugustLikes the name River. She just think it’s pretty, not intended for any baby tho since the idea of piping-hot-mess-August with a baby is pretty laughable, even without God’s rule in place.

EmalaReally likes very common baby names, like Tom for a boy and Ava for a girl. Though she is proud of being an angel and her power and her ability to help others, sometimes she just wants a normal life with a normal family. She desperately wants children of her own, always has, though she tries not to dwell on it, because it makes her sad.

Favourite Animal:

JuneDogs. They hate dogs slightly less than they hate all other living creatures.

AugustShe likes cats. Like calls to like, I guess, since she practically is a cat in angel form.

MyriadSnakes. Hey, venomous buddies gotta stick together! (She actually has a very not venomous pet ball python named Albert.)

GingerHorses. Speed and power are kind of her thing.

DanteSharks 110%.

JesseActually loves cats and is devastated that cats no longer like him.

VroxLoves all animals but does have a soft spot for small ones like mice/hamsters/etc. They’re just… so small… if you want to see Vrox terrified, fascinated and borderline teary from love just dump a hamster in his hands.

BenThere’s a little spider that lives in the corner of his room next to his stack of philosophy books. He hasn’t named it, but they exist together in a companionable peace: if you asked him, he’d say it was his favourite animal.

EmalaLoves birds with her whole heart and is always salty that birds tend to like August more than they like her.

MarsLoves birds like Emala, particularly birds of prey. He has dabbled in falconry several times and greatly enjoys it.

TacoHIMSELF. ALSO. ANYTHING BUT PIGEONS. 

Favourite Movie Genre(s):

JuneAnything trashy and terrible, no matter what the genre. June is a connoisseur of shitty things and loves ripping things to shreds like the little vulture they are. They love bad horror movies for the bad special effects, bad romcoms for the terrible plots and forced chemistry (though they do kinda gag a bit at the romance because they are~ ~allergic~ to love.) Generally if you give them a terrible movie, they will be the world’s happiest little demon. Their absolute favourite ones, though, are slasher horror films and black comedies.

AugustShe loves romantic comedies, NEVER LET HER TELL YOU ANY DIFFERENTLY. She also likes dramas though.

MyriadCan watch and enjoy anything, but prefers lighthearted things like comedies and particularly likes slapstick because they’re an actual 2 year old. They also enjoy thrillers and sci-fi.

GingerAbsolutely an action gal but will also go for a romance anytime.

DanteLikes Disney/Pixar movies and is kinda proud of it. Also finds westerns and action cool.

JesseHonestly loves art films and niche/indie films in general. He gets a bit annoyed that so many amazing movies are never shown to the wider public eye and is on a mission to find/watch them all. + Since he missed out on so much time between the time he died and now, he watches a wide range of movies from black-and-white to the present to try and catch up.

VroxLikes adventure/action/thriller movies, or generally movies where, quote “things actually happen.” no he doesn’t share Jesse’s more metaphorical and creative streak

BenHe, with a lot of shame, likes family movies. He’s so stressed and sad in day to day life, he doesn’t want to feel that while watching fictional media. Whenever he does actually get around to watching movies, he wants the feel-good stuff.

EmalaRomance, documentaries, drama, mystery, fantasy - Mala loves a wide range of movies. And while horror isn’t her favourite genre, she can watch any horror movie without flinching once; she’s rather unimpressed by them.

MarsDefinitely that guy who goes back to watch the old silent films a lot. He doesn’t like fast-paced stuff, prefers mysteries and dramas to anything else. He thinks comedy is a bit tasteless, and likes well-crafted movies that have deeper meanings.

TacoDog movies!! Movies with dogs!! Yes!!!!1!

[dumbledearme]

chapter thirty-seven—a kind act

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act IV — To Stop The Tide

Part XII — Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, but none of them will ever love you the way I do, it's me and you.

That night was the first time Andy saw camp burial shrouds used on bodies, and it was not something she wanted to see again. Among the dead, Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin, and Castor, a son of Dionysus. His twin brother, Pollux, tried to say a few words, but he choked.

They spent the night treating the wounded, which was almost everybody. The satyrs and dryads worked to repair the damage to the woods.

The next morning there was a meeting of the Council of Cloven Elders. The three senior satyrs were there, along with Chiron, who would be confined to his wheelchair until his leg was mended. Juniper, Anthony and Andy stood by Grover's side.

They described the weird sound Grover had made during the battle. "It was panic," Juniper said. "Grover summoned the power of the wild god."

"Panic?" Andy asked.

Chiron explained, "During the first war of the gods and the Titans, Lord Pan let forth a horrible cry that scared away the enemy armies. It was his greatest power – a massive wave of fear that helped the gods win the day. The word panic is named after Pan, you see. And Grover used that power, calling it forth from within himself."

"Preposterous!" Silenus bellowed. "Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover's music was so awful it scared the enemy away."

"Pan let his spirit pass into all of us," Grover said very calmly. "We must act. Each of us must work to renew the wild, to protect what's left of it. We must spread the word. Pan is dead. There is no one but us."

"After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us believe?" Silenus cried. "Never! We must continue the search. Exile the traitor. A vote. Who would believe this ridiculous young satyr?"

"I would," said a familiar voice. Everyone turned. Dionysus walked into the clearing and the grief was plain in his face. "I bare bad news. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to hear Grover's story."

"But my lord!" Silenus protested. "It's just nonsense!"

Dionysus's eyes flared with purple fire. "My son is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to humor me."

Silenus swallowed and Grover repeated his tale.

"That sounds like just the sort of thing Pan would do," Dionysus decided at last. "Grover is right. The search is tiresome. You must start thinking for yourselves."

"We must exile the traitor!" Silenus insisted.

"I say no," Dionysus countered.

"This is an outrage!" Silenus stood. "The council will not stand for this."

"Then it shall be dissolved," Dionysus said. "I couldn't care less."

The satyrs murmured uncomfortably.

"It's okay," Grover told them. "We don't need a council to tell us what to do. We can figure it out ourselves."

He told them again the words of Pan and, finally, the satyrs started to listen.

That afternoon, Andy found Tyson at the beach talking to Briares. Tyson was giving Briares directions to the forges. "You will teach us ways we have forgotten, how to make better weapons and armor."

"I want to see Cyclopes," Briares said. "I don't want to be lonely anymore."

"You will never be lonely again," Andy assured him.

He smiled and shook her hand about a hundred times. He and hugged Tyson, then he waded out into the ocean.

"You helped him a lot," Andy told Tyson.

"I only talked to him."

"No. You believed in him. That's what kept Pan alive all these years. That's what gave Briares strength. Without him, we would've died."

"Hey," a voice said from behind her. Andy turned to find Nico. Tyson walked away sensibly. "Came to say goodbye," the boy told her.

"What? But... you can't just leave! It's too dangerous out there. You need to train."

"I train with the dead," he said flatly. "This camp isn't for me. There's a reason they didn't put a cabin to Hades here. He's not welcome, any more than he is on Olympus. I don't belong. I have to go."

Andy wanted to argue, but she knew it would do no good. "Are you leaving right now?"

Nico nodded. "I've got tons of questions. I need to find out who my mother was. Who paid for Bianca and me to go to school. Who was the lawyer guy who got us out of the Lotus Hotel. I know nothing about my past."

"Well, I hope you find out. And I hope," she took his hand, his skin as cold as ice, "we don't have to be enemies."

The boy smiled faintly. "I'm sorry I was a brat. You were right about everything."

"Keep in touch, Nico."

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and trudge off into the woods.

Then another voice right behind her said, "There goes a very troubled young man." Dionysus was standing there. "Walk with me, Jackson." Without a choice, Andy followed him back to camp. "We have had many betrayals," he said. "Things are not looking good for Olympus. Yet you and Chase saved the camp. I'm not sure I should thank you for that."

"It was a group effort."

The god shrugged. "Regardless, I suppose it was mildly competent, what you two did. I thought you should know – it wasn't a total loss." They reached the amphitheater, and Dionysus pointed toward the campfire. Clarisse was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Chris Rodriguez. He was telling her a joke.

"You cured him," Andy whispered.

"Madness is my specialty. It was quite simple."

"Wow. You did something nice."

Dionysus raised an eyebrow. "I am nice! I just don't like you in particular, Jackson."

"Uh-"

"Perhaps I felt grieved by my son's death. He was a good boy. Perhaps I thought Rodriguez over there deserved a second chance. At any rate, it seems to have improved La Rue's mood."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The wine god sighed. "Hades if I know. Just remember, a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never a great fighter or athlete or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now, I say. Maybe it'll be the same with you."

"People don't laugh at me!"

"Well, you certainly aren't very smart or strong or a great poet, Jackson. But you've got guts. So maybe you'll still have a chance. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed." And he left her there, watching as Clarisse and Chris sang a stupid campfire song together, holding hands in the darkness.

Andy smiled. There was someone else she needed to talk to.

She found him inside the Athena cabin, leaning over a table, studying Daedalus's laptop. "I hear you're going back to San Francisco," she said. When he raised his head, her heart raced.

"There's a private school out there that I'll be going to," he said. "I'll probably hate it, but..." he shrugged.

"Will you call me?"

It was a simple question, but the effect it had on him was great indeed. It was as if a huge burden had left him, and he was finally able to smile again. He was finally back to his normal self.

"Sure," he said. "Andy... I'm sorry I was such a jerk."

Andy frowned. "What was the rest of the prophecy?" she asked. He fixed his eyes on the table and didn't answer. Andy stepped forward. "You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze," she remembered. "The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise."

Anthony shook his head, like he wanted her to stop.

"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," she pressed on. "And the son of Athena's final stand-"

"Andy-"

She was so close now he couldn't avoid looking at her. "Destroy with a hero's final breath..."

"And lose a love to worse than death," he finished in a painful whisper. "I didn't know who the prophecy was talking about. I... I didn't know if-" his voice faltered. "Andy, I thought it meant you. And I was a jerk because I was trying to push you away. I was trying to prepare myself. And when you disappeared in Ogygia, I thought... Then you weren't dead, and I had to prepare myself all over again."

Andy pressed her forehead on his. "I'm sorry," she said. "About everything. About Luke."

"Somehow I'm glad it was him," he said softly. "After you were back... Did you mean what you said?"

Andy smiled. "Yes."

"Good," and he kissed her.

Everything was perfect until Hera decided to appear. She cleared her throat and they turned to look at her. "You found the answers," she told Anthony. "I knew you would. Your quest was a success."

"A success?" Anthony repeated. "A lot of people died. How is that-"

"Our family is safe," Hera insisted. "Those others are better gone, my dear. I am proud of you."

"You paid Geryon to let us pass through the ranch," Andy guessed. "But you didn't care about Nico."

"Oh, please," Hera waved her hand dismissively. "The son of Hades said it himself. No one wants him around. He does not belong."

"Hephaestus was right," Andy said. "You only care about your perfect family, not real people. Whoever doesn't fit, needs to be put out."

Hera's eyes turned dangerously bright. "Watch yourself, child of land and sea. I guided you more than you know in the maze. I helped Anthony kill Geryon. I was at your side when you faced Antaeus. I sent you to Calypso's island. I opened the way to the Titan's mountain. Anthony sees how I've helped. So now, I would welcome a sacrifice for my efforts."

Anthony stood still as a statue. "You're the one who doesn't belong, Hera. So next time, thanks... but, no thanks."

Hera's form began to glow. "You will regret this insult, son of Athena," and she disappeared.

When her birthday arrived Sally threw Andy a small party at their apartment. Paul Blofis came over (Chiron had manipulated the Mist to convince everyone, including Paul, that Andy had nothing to do with the band room explosion), and so did Anthony and Tyson.

Andy was getting ready to blow out the candles when the doorbell rang. Sally frowned. "Did you invite anyone else?" Andy shook her head. Sally opened the door and gasped.

Poseidon stood there. Sally blushed right to the roots of her hair. "Sally," he said. "As beautiful as ever. May I come in?" She mumbled something and he walked inside.

Paul stepped forward. "Hi. I'm Paul Blofis."

Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. "Blowfish, you say?"

"Ah, no. Blofis, actually."

"Oh, I see," Poseidon said. "A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon."

"Like the god of the sea?"

"Very much like that, yes."

"We're so glad you could drop by," Sally said, nervously. "Paul, this is Andy's father."

"Ah," Paul nodded. "Of course."

Poseidon smiled at Andy. "There you are, my girl. And Anthony. And Tyson! Hello, son!"

"Daddy!" Tyson bounded across the room and hugged the sea god.

Paul's jaw dropped. "Tyson is—"

"Not mine," Sally promised. "It's a long story."

"I couldn't very well miss Andy's seventeenth birthday," Poseidon said. "I've missed all the others." He looked around the room. "Sally, Paul, Anthony, Tyson... would you mind if I borrowed Andy just for a moment?" He put his arm around her and steered her into the kitchen.

Once they were alone, his smile faded. "Are you all right, child?"

"Yeah. I guess," she considered. "Is Luke really gone?"

"I don't know, Andy. It is most disturbing." Poseidon looked troubled. "There is something different about Luke. I don't know how he was prepared to host the Titan's soul, but he will not be easily killed. And yet, I fear he must be killed if we are to send Kronos back to the pit. I will have to think on this. Unfortunately, I have other problems of my own."

"The old sea gods?"

"Indeed. The battle came first to me, Andy. In fact, I cannot stay long. Even now the ocean is at war with itself. It is all I can do to keep hurricanes and typhoons from destroying your surface world, the fighting is so intense."

"Let me help."

Poseidon smiled. "Not yet, child. I sense you will be needed here. Which reminds me..." He brought out a sand dollar and pressed it into her hand. "Your birthday present. Spend it wisely."

"A sand dollar?"

"Oh, yes. In my day, you could buy quite a lot with a sand dollar. I think you will find it still buys a lot, if used in the right situation."

"What situation?"

"When the time comes," Poseidon said, "I think you'll know."

Andy closed her hand around the sand dollar. "Dad," she said. "I saw what Antaeus did in your name."

Poseidon nodded. "Lesser beings do many horrible things in the name of the gods. That does not mean we approve it. The way our sons and daughters act in our names... well, it usually says more about them than it does about us. Antaeus was mistaken. I think you might be, perhaps, my favorite child."

Andy smiled. "You shouldn't say that."

Then her mother called from the living room, "Andy, the candles are melting!"

"You'd better go," Poseidon said. "One last thing. That incident at Mount St Helens... The eruptions are continuing. Typhon is stirring. It is very likely that soon, in a few months, perhaps a year at best, he will escape his bonds."

"I'm so sorry. I never meant-"

Poseidon raised his hand. "It is not your fault, Andy. It would've happened sooner or later, with Kronos awakening the ancient monsters. But be aware, if Typhon stirs... it will be unlike anything you have faced before. The first time he appeared, all the forces of Olympus were barely enough to battle him. My fatherly advice is... keep the sea free."

They ate blue cake and ice cream until late in the night. After the party guests left and Sally went to bed, Andy grabbed another piece of cake and sat out onto the fire escape.

Nico appeared out of thin air. Andy almost fell backwards. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've done some exploring," he said. "Thought you'd like to know. Daedalus got his punishment."

"You saw him?"

He nodded. "Minos wanted to boil him in cheese fondue for eternity, but my father had other ideas. Daedalus will be building overpasses and exit ramps in Asphodel for all time. It'll help ease the traffic congestion. Truthfully, I think the old guy is pretty happy with that. He's still building. Still creating. And he gets to see his son and Perdix on the weekends."

"Good."

Nico tapped a silver ring shaped like a skull. Andy was sure he never wore it before. "I've found some things. I want to make you an offer, Andy Jackson." He said that in this weird, formal way, like he was about to propose to her or something.

"What?"

"The way to beat Luke," he said. "If I'm right, it's the only way you'll stand a chance."

Andy took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

"Is that blue birthday cake?" Nico asked suddenly. He sounded so hungry, so wistful.

"Sit down, Death Boy," she said handing him the plate. "We've got lots to talk about."

End of Act IV