#anyway. meant to clean this out in october but then paused and left it until now

[safyresky]

Frostmas Year Ten: Behind the Scenes

Prologue | Y1 | Y2 | Y3 | Y4 | Y5 | Y6 | Y7 | Y8 | Y9 | Y10 | Y11 | Y12

[To Read Frostmas: From the TOP | Year Ten]

---

Boy howdy! It was two years in the making but, at about 30k ish words, year ten is FINALLY finished and I can FINALLY say, out loud, that Jacqueline got fuckin FROZEN!

Lots I wanna share because Year Ten had the MOST edits out of all the years I’ve written so far. I do NOT want to know what Year Eleven will be like. Y10 was like, the HARDEST year to write so far! Let's get GROOVING

The Intro

I actually rewrote the intro after finishing the entire year. It was a weak start, originally, I realized after writing those three BANGERS of final scenes!

the version you SHOULD have read was only completed on the 13th, after being rewritten once the day before.

I almost didn’t write an intro for Year Ten. I actually think, when I started writing it, on Easter Day two and a half years ago lmao, I went right into the beginning of the year.

If I’m remembering correctly, I actually didn’t write the intro until after the All-Staff scene!

Scene 1: Bernard Machine BROKE

what the elf is elf version of what the fuck. v. important note

“We’re really in it now Jacqueline” is absolutely, 100%, the Frostmas version of this meme from The Good Place:

And oh boy, with Y10 of Frostmas? WE ARE REALLY IN IT NOW, JACQUELINE

OKAY SO one of the reasons I decided to do these BTS things was for all of the memes/references bc I find it FASCINATING that I can read these chapters and recall DISTINCTLY what I was doing/hyper fixating on at the time. Year Ten edition: Quarantine 2020!

First reference: Jacqueline deciding to go to Timmies

I was 100% projecting, a month into quarantine and I had NO IDEA if Tim’s was open and I was craving timbits and my iced capp of choice (which is also Jacqueline’s)

SO I WROTE IT IN

Two months in I saw they were open via drive thrus and I have a car so I got me that ding dang iced capp

HONESTLY, a lot of Canadians don’t actually like Timmies these days. Apparently, they’ve gone down hill. But Imma be real with you folks, ice capps HIT and I have yet to find a place with a similar drink that hides caffeine well enough for me to enjoy!

Stir-Fry: Best way to make a quick dins and get rid of leftovers

Okay, srs note now: thinking about what would drive Bernard to leave, without knowing what the canon relationship between Jack and B-Man is (tho most people HC that they HATE each other and B wouldn’t take Jack’s BS, and I support this) one of the hardest things I’ve done, to date.

like Jacqueline said in the intro, this is Bernard’s home! He takes care of the elves, they’re his fam! Like, everything considering Bernard’s decision is HEARTBREAKING and the only way I could think of that would allow Bernard to fully leave the picture is, well, him basically trading his “exile” for their freedom.

The conversation they have once B-Man has semi-processed grief is once again, me trying to work it all out

apparently a running frostmas theme for things I can’t figure out is to get Berline some food and watch them scheme. Hey, if it works it works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Scene 2: Jack gets SERVED

fun fact: I added this scene in after writing about half of the chapter! It was reading very bad prior, since I had just summarized what Bernard did.

“you’re not you when you’re hungry” I think about that commercial a lot. Specifically the Betty White version

it’s also a gr8 Jack line, 100%

so thanks to snickers, i guess, for giving me free dialogue (🤫)

I actually really like this scene! I think it’s a v good villainy Jack scene!

Scene 3: All Staff Meeting

I hate all staff meetings. We had one MONTHLY in quarantine and by the time May rolled around, I never wanted to go to one ever again

SO LET’S MAKE THE ELVES GO INTO ONE! at least they got to go in person 😢😢

Idk why I had B-man give a spare set of keys to Quintin? It’s been so long since I wrote that part, and Quintin makes his way to the Valley in the later half of the year ANYWAY. I actually went back and edited the final few scenes to hint that Quintin splits his time

like some kind of divorce settlement

he and elfsburg divorced. he gets the shop every other week 😂😂😂

ALTHOUGH it IS before B-Man knows he’ll be able to relocate everyone, so maybe that was part of the reasoning?? See, this is what happens when you wip something for TWO YEARS. 30k later ur a mess

Also, hate that Quintin is spelt Quintin. Mostly bc spell check hates it. Sorry spell check, BUT THAT’S HOW IT’S SPELT IN TSC1 END CREDITS

Anyway I think Curtis deserves a little credit, as a treat, and I’m SOFT for B-Man being soft with the elves 🥺

especially since he gets really, really, really into the Resort stuff (that’s canon, you saw him in the last movie!)

Quarantine 2020 Reference: “And for now, it’s the new normal”

we’ve all heard it at this point, even B-Man apparently

also, totally forgot that I had established a LOCKDOWN before covid19 did lmao, almost thought it was another quarantine reference

Scene 4: Frost Mansion/Manor

was two scenes, fixed it to be one scene! one of the many, many, many, MANY edits I was doing up until I finally posted the chapter. This year took SOO MUCH EDITING

the Blaise making a room scene was literally just so I could show off that I finally figured out how warlocks worked in CS :D

AND I FINALLY GOT TO MAKE THE SALARIED/HOURLIED JOKE I’VE BEEN DYING TO MAKE FOR YEARS!!

Legates are salaried! That’s a Crystal Springs FACT

anyway I think about how jelly like the magic in tsc series is. do you? i think about it a lot. like, you could chose any kinds of sounds, and you go for slurping? icky

Scene 5: City Square; Scene 6: Meeting with Governor Blaise

This scene. was another one. that got rewritten way too many times. Idk what it is about Y10, but I could NOT get things sounding decent on the first try for like, MOST of the scenes! Except for the last one, lmao. I’ve had that written for a year :)

it was another opportunity for lore drop tbh, i’m shameless

on that note, I’d like to thank Assasin’s Creed: Valhalla for teaching me what a MOOT is, historically speaking! I read it and was like so THAT’S what CS does! Aight, neat!

“Blaise said with a grin, opening his arms” similar to how Jack said. three or four scenes back 🙃🙃 I didn’t even realize the parallel until the third in process read through!

(Scene 7 is the Council Meeting, and not much BTS info exists for it so we skip!)

Scene 8: Ley Lines

MY BIGGEST MOST GINORMOUS THANKS EVER TO @shittyelfwriter​ BECAUSE I WOULD NOT! HAVE COME TO THIS CONCLUSION WITHOUT HER HELP!

She had the brilliant idea of Christmas trees being like beacons? And chatted with me for a good two or three hours one winter evening in 2020 to help me workshop this idea!

there was another idea of the stockings delivering the gifts but it was knocked down lol, if the trees are calling in the gifts then why on earth would they come shooting through the stockings?

besides, stockings are their own spawn points!!! they gotta be filled with STUFFERS like FUZZY SOCKS, AND CANDY, AND CHOCOLATE!!

no idea how I connected everything together afterwards, tho. Maybe that’s why this year took two whole years to write 😲😲

anyway, yeah, no, thank you SO much as usual ana for being your amazing self FILLED with BRILLIANT ideas and letting me pick from your genius!! something something we stan??? is that meme dead yet?

(oh! and if u squint...u can see Winter watching for frozie Jacquie)

Scene 9: The First Check In

Once again, i have Jacqueline noticing that someone looks slightly different to acknowledge changes in the movies! This edition: Curtis’s growth spurt and slightly deeper voice 👀

(the voice bit was shoehorned in very last minute 🤫)

I ALSO started dropping hints about how Curtis gets very into the Resort later on. I mean, I thought he was way too invested when Scott finds him at the Resort! He was not as disgruntled as any of the other elves were. I’m running with the subtext >:)

FUN FACT: this is where I left off when I initially started doing this Frostmas BTS. I had not made it very far. ONWARDS

Scene 10: Everything Moves Fast

My one regret with this chapter is settling on "New Elfsburg" before placing it in a valley. "Elfsburg Valley" is just so...chef's kiss

BOOM! ELLE DROP! I've got plans for Ms Elle come next chapter. You guys probably won't like it, but uh, I will enjoy the reveal immensely >:)

"saying you were part of Health and Safety went a long way with ordinary beings" -> I'd like to thank Doctor Who episode "Partners in Crime" for this one! I watched it a LOT during the two years of writing this chapter took. It was a rough two years and I was taking all the comfort I could get while isolated from my fiance and my family and LITERALLY EVERYONE

Scene 11: Bag Heist

oh my god this scene. this scene is so good for so many reasons

Jacqueline being an ass

Jack being an ass

God tier frozie sibling banter

Jacqueline acting almost EXACTLY like Jack would just to bug him--hammering home the theme of "becoming what you fear most >:)"

Also, it was so much fun to write! It was goddamn hilarious!

"Do your kids really want the flu?" I asked, hands on my hips. "Because a kid sneezed all over the place a few photos ago, and we need to sanitize this asap. Maybe even close it off for the day."

-> More Covid Nuggets lol

"Barry, right? You chased me out of storage the other day! I remember that, that was fun! How's your arm?"

-> Jacqueline is very much causing trouble and I am trying to really really reinforce that lmao. She's on a first name basis with some of the guards!

"Sorry Barry, but I have the high ground now" -> for some reason, my friend sir eng and my fiance got really into quoting that specific phrase re: Star Wars:

just before my household shifted and we went FULL lockdown, my (now) fiance (then boyfriend) came up for a visit and marathoned Star Wars with our friend Sir Eng while I was working

(I think that's how it went! May have been my other housemate, and then Sir Eng said it to Fiance and it went downhill from there. Idk man. April-Oct 2021 was kind of a blur)

it went downhill from there, haha. It was a popular turn of phrase up until Sir Eng moved out!

FUN FACT: Jacqueline has never seen a Star Wars :)

"That wasn't rhetorical, Jacqueline. Why is it you're holding Santa's bag? Don't you have citrus to freeze? Noses to get all runny?"

"Not until 3," I said, to more laughter.

Thank you based Spongebob for the ABOVE reference :)

Scene 12-14: It's DORMANT

So, my running gag for this year of Frostmas is basically this:

And it SHOWS in this scene, especially! More on that in a mo!

"The Workshop itself had been designed to be a bit smaller, to be ready in time for toy making. It felt a lot bigger on the inside thanks to some brilliant engineering on Quintin's end"

->this is 100% a dr who/British joke, a la this scene from Phineas and Ferb's Avengers crossover. It lives rent free in my head for whatEVER reason, especially since I never saw the entire episode!

but also, like, why WOULDN'T they have it be bigger on the inside? They're MAGICAL. SUSPEND THE DISBELIEF! anyway.

""At this point, I don't care how you got it. I'm just glad you got it." Bernard said, gently taking the bag off of my arm."

->and so it begins! B-Man literally does not care, he just wants to get this moving and try his bestest to save cribmas 🥺🥺

"Everything dies eventually. Even us," Bernard pointed out.

"You must be fun at parties," I said, thrown off guard.

they are at their WORST! BMAN IS DEPRESSED AF! JACQUELINE IS FROZEN AF! I AM THRIVING!

And Winter is in her element! She's got very mom energy. I'm hoping to explain why she's quietly lurking in the next chapter, but basically she has the BIG WORRY for both Jacqueline AND Bernard! She knows Jacquie's frozen, as we see in the final scene. she's doing her best to be there but NOT be overbearing

And Bernard is doing her a real big worry, too! Her mom senses are going crazy

(Winter would've been gr8 at being the next Mother Nature. She declined when approached by MN when the Legate Law was put into place. More on that in Into the Shadows!)

"If you keep clenching your jaw like that, you're going to need a night guard" -> You'll never guess who did, in fact, get a night guard around this time (last March)

if you guessed me, you are so correct lmao. again, one of those oh hey! I recall why this went in! What a crazy thing to look back at! anyway it's done wonders for stress headaches, and I'm positive Bernard would benefit from having one lmao

Ah yes. A bit of sillies before we head into the BERNARD DOES DUMB SHIT portion! Little Shop of Horrors was the first production I saw "post" covid. I quite liked it. The puppet for Audrey 2? AMAZING.

Jacqueline's Interlude

I just had to edit the Jacqueline interlude because holy guacamole, were there EVER spelling mistakes GALORE. It's like, did I miss that section ENTIRELY?! DAMN.

Anyway, it's kinda funny, I remember getting to that part and having to take a step back with all of the shit I was about to do--those three BANGERS of end scenes 😍😍--and straight up needing a moment to process it ebcause I couldn;t figure out how it all started

Mostly because Jacqueline was mum on the subject, if you can believe it. Can't blame her in the slightest, lol, but when ur characters get suddenly quiet while you're trying to tell their story? YEAH. IT'S A PROBLEM

SO. TAKE THE STEP BACK, SEE WHERE JACQUIE'S AT, AND THEN FIND A GOOD WAY TO GET ON WITH THE NEXT THREE BANGERS!

This was ALSO a fun spot to shoehorn in some ah, CS government lore >:) Do I know how their system works? YES! Do I know wtf it is? NO! But it seems to work for them so YEAH, ENJOY THE LORE

THE LAST THREE SCENES (14-16)

Looking back at these now have me cackling, I really went BAM! BAM! BAM! with a bat to everyone's knees, huh? Anyway

YEAH. WOW. you know, this whole section was unplanned. Like, the bag failing? Unplanned--kinda just happened as I wrote! Bernard doing the dumb shit? Not planned, but the moment I had the bag low on magic, I went ah. yes. Bernard would 100% do his best to help save it, given everything he's sacrificed and lost so far

And Jacqueline would be MAD about it, given the ENTIRE situation that Frostmas is/has caused and also, the FROZEN THING

My god, tho. I really feel for Bernard, you know? It's just. WOW. after all of that everything, you just really, really, really want, need something to go right. I feel like we've all probably been there before!

But yeah, everyone's really at their lowest low here

And even with their sibling-esque banter, Berline is still not doing so HOT

AND THEN THE KICKER! THE FROZEN-NESS! AH!

I had that final scene written for YEARS. I think since year 8 went up? My GOD. Been biting my tongue for WAY TOO LONG to try and avoid spoilers but boy am I GLAD it's OUT NOW! AH!

This year of Frostmas decked me lmao. WOWIE. Anyway, plz enjoy the Y10 bts! and the MEMES! I'm HOPING this kick starts my ass into figuring out why Y11 isn't quite VIBING rn 🤔🤔🤔

[sparrowmoth]

jaylos + howling <3

@moorsgrimhilde hi hello thank you my dear <3<3 this is way late, but I'm pretending it's still october, it's fine djaskgjsklgjdka andddd uh, what to say about this... the words went rogue... and I allowed it

CW: Implied anxiety disorder, references to past trauma and bullying

Howling isn’t something Carlos likes to do in front of people. It’s a bit like singing, except that it’s not—because people sing. But they don’t howl. Not unless they’re trying to get a rise out of their dog, anyway. And, well, he’d… been that "dog" a few too many times, back on the Isle, what since word had gotten out what he was. Had become.

He was barked and growled at more than he'd ever done the same to anyone, even the times when the instinct rose like bile to his lips. He would swallow it down. He'd be no one's amusement. They'd laugh, either way, at their own stupid selves and the mockery they made.

He thought he'd left that behind him when he left the Isle.

No one here—at least not yet—had an inkling what he was, and so it couldn't be personal.... what happened. Maybe apart from the fact that Jay hadn't thought twice. He'd grinned and laughed and joined the team in howling to the night sky as they all huddled on the field.

"A-a-awooooo!" "Aaaa-whoooop!" "Awooooooo-ga!"

Someone had ribbed him for not having any "spirit," quiet as he was. Someone else had defended him as "shy," but it sounded... insulting.

Jay hadn't said anything.

And neither had Carlos.

Not that they didn't speak at all later, but not about that.

Not until one particular evening when Carlos was alone in the dorm room while Jay was out with some of the guys from the team. He'd invited Carlos, of course, but Carlos had—predictably—turned him down. He didn't mind some alone time, if the alternative wasn't just him and Jay or the girls. Alone time meant he could study without any distractions. Alone time meant he could maybe even... sing...?

That's what he called it in his head. That's what he wanted it to be.

So it was he'd begun to sing in that certain language of creatures he both was and wasn't. He kept his voice low, barely a whisper, until he stepped in the shower. Easier to study when he felt fresh and clean, so he took his time with sudsing and scrubbing and singing—(as he was ever determined to think of it)—over the sound of the water.

No, Carlos didn't like to howl in front of people, but if he was being honest with himself? He liked howling. It just made him feel... calm.

And that was nice while it lasted.

Which was up to the point where he saw Jay through the crack in the door, which he'd left ajar to vent the steam, since the bathroom didn't have a window or a working fan, but well, that was besides the point.

The point was Jay being where and when he shouldn't. In the room. On Carlos' bed, since it was closest to the bathroom. Just sitting on the corner and staring shamelessly at Carlos, who promptly yanked the door shut and melted onto the floor, eyes wide, heart pounding.

Evil, it's not like Jay didn't know what he was, but still, the thought that Jay had heard him, ugh, howling in the shower was so fucking...

Embarrassing, he jeered at himself internally, pulling the towel up over his head and burying his face between his knees with a groan.

It was a long while, probably—or a very short one; he wasn't sure—before he picked himself up off the floor, wrapped the towel around his waist, and dared to open the door, which tattled with a creak.

Jay glanced over from where he'd moved to the couch, but he didn't say anything—and neither did Carlos. Jay looked back to the TV and Carlos got dressed and then. And then what? Carlos chewed his lip.

"Sorry," Jay said suddenly, glancing back at Carlos again. He paused, and then added quickly, "I wasn't trying to be a creep or anything..."

Carlos shrugged. "Nothing you haven't seen before," he mumbled.

"Yeah," was all Jay replied, shifting awkwardly on the couch.

There was a palpable silence before they both spoke at once:

"I like your voice."

"Do you want to— what?"

Jay scratched at his neck. "I just... didn't know you could sing."

"I wasn't—I mean, I can't—it's not—" Carlos sighed in frustration. "I didn't think you were here," he said, at last, seizing on his chance to change the subject. "Thought you said you'd be back late and stuff."

"Oh, uh..." Jay cleared his throat. "Yeah, you know, I just got bored."

Carlos frowned and looked at Jay, who was sitting stiffly, shoulders hunched. "Did something happen...?" he asked, taking a slow step forward, head tilting as he examined what he could see of Jay.

"No, nothing, don't worry about—"

"Jay," said Carlos, quirking an eyebrow.

"Seriously, look at me, I'm fine! More than fine, I'm—"

"If you say hot, I'm kicking your ass," Carlos interrupted, deadpan.

That got a quiet chuckle out of Jay, though he still just shrugged and insisted, "I'm fine." He looked at Carlos, who raised his eyebrow only a fraction higher. That, it seemed, was enough to break Jay, because he grimaced and muttered, "I didn't want to go to a strip club, okay?"

Carlos snorted, a little surprised when Jay glared at him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Jay shot back, defensive. "They hadn't told me..."

"Huh." Carlos moved toward the couch, bare feet dragging lazily over the carpet. He'd almost forgotten how they'd gotten on this topic. It was at the back of his mind somewhere, but all he was really thinking about was Jay. "So... you came back," he said plainly, taking a seat.

"Yeah," said Jay, staring ahead to the TV, which was playing on mute. "I thought you'd be studying. I was just gonna... go to sleep, I guess."

"It's eight o' clock," Carlos informed him, allowing a half-smile.

"I didn't want to distract you from your 'process,'" Jay retorted almost sulkily, though Carlos was sure there was some sarcasm in there, too.

"Disturbingly considerate of you," Carlos replied with a smirk.

"Hmph. I was going for disgustingly thoughtful, actually."

Carlos snorted, Jay cracked a smile, and just a few minutes later, the two of them were leaning precariously into the middle of the couch, soon to be bumping shoulders. Jay had offered to take a walk and let Carlos get on with his plan to study, but Carlos had grabbed for the remote and told him to pick something good instead. That was that.

Enough was said between the lines, for now—for both of them.

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 06 | End

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Word Count: 7.5k

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, potion influence (? what’s the correct term here), unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, Hoseok licks his fingers...

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Final chapter! We’re finally here. I bet you didn’t think I’d actually finish this series, haha. Two series down though! SO...I’m very rusty with smut. I haven’t written it since like...October so please be gentle with me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and have liked reading this series! Please reblog it so others can find it and send me comments/reviews/feedback via an ask or by reblogging this! :D I love to read them all and your support has helped to encourage me to keep going.

Last Chapter ; 

-

Surprisingly, you don’t see Hoseok for a few days after the Winter Solstice Ball. He’s not present at any of the meals, nor do you see him around the castle either. It simultaneously confuses and concerns you as you worry that he’s feeling too awkward to be around you.

Seokjin, at a pre-Christmas meal at his house, had tried to confirm that he wasn’t avoiding you but instead was simply busy with preparing the magical creatures for the Christmas break. There were exchanges with other schools around the world that occurred at Christmas, meaning that Hoseok was constantly travelling with his creatures and taking custody of the foreign creatures which would be used for the next semester. 

You’d viewed that with suspicion as you didn’t recall Hoseok nor Jisoo telling you that, but it did seem like a logical reason. Chaeyoung had backed the argument at the time, her mouth half full of roasted turkey. Given your suspicions about their involvement in trying to get Hoseok and you into a relationship had caused you to watch her suspiciously though.

It was only when Jimin, who had also been present for the meal, had confirmed it with a nod of his head that you’d finally believed them. As far as you knew, Jimin had no involvement and he’d genuinely fascinated with how close the two of you had been at the ball.

So even though it made you feel a little paranoid at his sudden absence after the kiss, you chose to trust your friends and believe what they said. You were already concerned about how to just interact with him when you saw him, you certainly didn’t need to obsess over the fact he ‘might’ be avoiding you.

Instead of letting your mind focus on that though, you instead throw yourself into any work you can do. The Christmas break sees most students gone and only a handful remaining behind. Some of those were because they wanted to continue studying or they didn’t want to leave their friends, others were because they didn’t have a stable home to go back to.

It made your heartache to know that some of your students had such poor home lives but it wasn’t something you could do anything about. Instead, you help to organise visits to Hogsmeade for the students so they can get to enjoy some of their break by just having fun and experiencing some of the Christmas cheer.

You’d also got through all the essays that you had to mark and the first month of the new semester had already been carefully planned out for when the students all returned. This meant that you’d done nearly all your work though and there were only so many books you could read without getting bored.

So you offered your services to the other professor’s who had remained behind, figuring that you could help them out while also reducing your boredom. This is why you were currently in the potion storeroom doing a stocktake; recording how many of each ingredient was left, if there were any that were running low or had run out completely, what potions were stored away and how much of each one.

It wasn’t the most interesting job but it helped to take your mind off things and you felt a little useful at least. You’d only been doing it for half-an-hour before you’d quickly realised why no one liked to do this job, though. The storeroom was bigger than it initially appeared and contained multiple shelving units, with each shelf packed full of ingredients, potions and spare potion-making ingredients.

There was a stale smell to the air which mingled with the faint remnants of potions that had been created in the many cauldrons that littered the room. Alongside that, there was so much dust in the room that you genuinely wondered if anyone used this place. Whilst you weren’t one to advocate using magic for stuff that you could just do by hand, there was no reason to not just do a quick cleaning spell in here.

Then again, you’ve never been amazing at potions so maybe that kind of spell might do something to one of the ingredients. So you just carry on, occasionally sneezing whenever you cause a small dust cloud to appear.

You end up so in the zone that you don’t hear the door open and close, nor the soft footfalls of someone walking in closer. This means you shriek in surprise when you hear your name in a familiar, low voice. Jerking forwards, you knock into the shelves in front of you and wince at the sound of glass hitting each other as bottles wobble dangerously.

“Shit!” Cursing, you miss the bottle with a mother-of-pearl sheen that teeters from the top shelf dangerously. Hoseok, obviously concerned with how he’d surprised you, rushes forward to help stabilise the bottles that are on the verge of smashing all around you.

As he grabs one that’s rolling towards the edge, you reach out to stop another one at the exact moment the top bottle drops. It hits your hand hard, bouncing before hitting the shelving unit and shattering. The potion inside splatters all over you, Hoseok and the shelf. Spiralled steams immediately begin to rise from where it impacts and you vaguely remember that amortentia looks like this.

But then you’re cursing loudly, sputtering as you get a mouthful of it. Without meaning to, you swallow it all and cringe as you feel it slide down your throat. The sound of Hoseok choking causes you to look over and you realise he’s got a mouthful of it as well, his face pinched as he sticks his tongue out from the taste of it.

“What was that?” He asks, blinking rapidly before wiping away what has splashed onto his face. For such a small bottle, it had managed to almost everywhere and even some stray strands of his hair were wet; steam rising slowly.

“If I remember my potions correctly...amortentia.” You say, lips twisting as you stare up at the top of the unit. Why this potion had been stored up there was beyond you as there was nothing else up there but dust. At least no other bottles had broken.

“Ah,” He muses before pausing, eyes widening as something clicks in his head. “Wait, isn’t that the love potion thing?”

“It doesn’t cause people to fall in love. If you remember back to your own potions lessons, no potion is capable of causing true love. Instead, it causes intense infatuation or obsess-oh…” Now your own eyes widen as you stare directly into Hoseok’s, warmth curling within your gut and rushing through your veins until your whole body feels hot.

Almost instantly, the two of you look away from each other. Coughing awkwardly, you shift to the other side of the storeroom, a hand pressed to your cheeks in a futile effort to cool them. Instead, they just feel even warmer.

What happened if two people took it? Especially if those two people already liked each other anyway? Did it just negate itself?

The slow burn within you said no and you let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against the cool wood of the unit next to you.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming in...I wasn’t being quiet or anything.” Hoseok mutters and you glance over, noting the rosy pink gracing the apples of his cheeks. You wonder if it’s because he feels embarrassed or if it’s because he’s experiencing the same, intense feelings that you are.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to calm yourself only to realise that all you could smell was Hoseok. His scent was so strong that it was like he was standing right next to you instead of being on the other side of the room. Almost immediately, you knew it was the potion.

From what you remembered, amortentia caused those feelings for whoever administered it. Considering neither you nor Hoseok had been the one to serve it, you would’ve thought that it would just negate itself. Instead, it seems to have decided that you’ve both administered it to each other.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I was too deep into my work,” Giving him a nervous laugh, you try to reassure him so he doesn’t get too worried that he’s done something wrong. “How come you’re here? I haven’t seen you in days.”

“Err, yeah...sorry. I’ve been really busy. I forgot to tell you that we usually start doing magical creature exchanges around Christmas to help educate our students on foreign creatures while also allowing other nations to learn about our creatures. It’s been a little hectic as I’ve been exchanging hippogriff’s, bowtruckles and nifflers with Castelobruxo in Brazil. Which as you can imagine has been a little stressful because I think I’ve almost lost about six niffler’s and almost lost a hand to one of the hippogriff’s.” He turns away from you to tidy up some of the shelves, missing your sigh of relief as you realise everyone has been right.

He hadn’t been avoiding you.

“I’m finished now though, for the moment. It took me longer than I liked as the fire slugs we got from Castelobruxo have been continuously burning their cages but I have that completely fixed now. I thought that I’d come to find you as we haven’t talked in a few days and I got told you were here. So...here I am.” Giving you a weak smile, Hoseok turns to look at you while shrugging.

He looks slightly uncomfortable now; a sheen on his golden tan skin while his face looks redder than normal. His hands grasp at nothing on his sides and you find yourself hyper fixated on them. Have you ever really noticed how long and slender his fingers are? 

Almost immediately, you imagine those fingers somewhere else and almost moan out loud as you clench inner muscles around nothing. Was this a normal side effect of amortentia? You didn’t know what was happening and you weren’t the best at potions so this was all foreign to you.

At least you’d come to terms with the fact that you were attracted to him and would like to perhaps try a relationship. Otherwise, this would’ve been even more awkward. Not that he knew that yet, which is probably why he’s looking a little distressed.

You don’t feel that it’s the best moment to blurt that out though. Sure, it would reduce any uncomfortableness between you both but was it a good idea to admit you find him attractive too when you’re both suffering the effects of amortentia?

Probably not.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. A few of the others told me that you’d be busy doing this. I didn’t even know that magical creature exchange was a thing!” Cheerfully, you smile at him when he glances at you.

“Still, I should have told you. I’m really sorry.” He mumbles, reaching out to gently brush a scratchy pouch idly. His insistence at apologising causes you to smile and shake your head amused at how genuinely remorseful he is that he’d forgotten to tell you this one thing.

“Honestly, it’s fine. It’s your job, don’t say sorry for doing your job, okay? You’re a great caretaker for the magical creatures and I’m not surprised you forgot to mention it to me. I don’t tell you stuff about my job all the time because you don’t need to know it! So don’t stress.” Reaching for the checklist that you’d been running through earlier, you note down the broken amortentia potion with a small reprimand for the untidy storeroom.

As such, you don’t see the way Hoseok’s face twists as he forces himself to remain quiet.

The two of you remain silent for the next five minutes or so with you attempting to carry on counting the ingredients and potions on the shelves while Hoseok merely lingers in the background. He was so cute.

It would have been a comfortable silence between you both, like you always had with him, if not for the lingering awkwardness of the untalked kiss and the flaring desire of the potion. Shifting awkwardly, your thighs squeeze together in an attempt to relieve some pressure. It doesn’t work and you have to stifle a groan at the small sharp jolt of pleasure.

“Merlin,” Hoseok whispers, causing you to open your eyes and look over at him. His face is even more flushed and you note a slight sheen to his skin as if he’s too hot. If he’s even remotely as warm as you are then it’s entirely understandable and you wonder what you look like to him.

Blowing out a breath, he attempts to fan his face before pinching some of his shirt and pulling at it to get some cooler air. You can tell it doesn’t work because you’ve been subconsciously doing that for the last minute and all it’s done is cause you to imagine Hoseok’s lips brushing along your chest instead of the poor imitation of a breeze.

What finally tipped you over the edge to deciding you’d done enough counting today was yet another glance over to Hoseok. His tall and lithe form has been almost hidden beneath his robes all this time, but an uncomfortable shift causes him to reveal more of his body.

You weren’t normally such a blatant person but you couldn’t help the way your eyes drag down his body, taking in every crease in his crisp white button-up. The key moment that told you to get out of the room now was when your eyes trailed even further below, taking in the leather of his belt.

And the obvious tent in his trousers.

Swallowing so hard that you choke, you quickly move towards the door. The rush of blood throbbing in your ears drowns out Hoseok’s call of surprise, your focus solely on getting out of the overwhelmingly hot room.

The room with the man you’d very recently had decided you were attracted to both romantically and sexually. Not a good combo when you were almost burning from within with lust for him, especially when you know he’s turned on right now.

Running a hand down your face as you rush through the corridors, you can’t stop the quiet groan that leaves your mouth as you do so. Your clothes feel too tight for your body, almost suffocating and the aching need for fingers or something more between your legs is becoming unbearable. 

“Y/N, wait!” Finally, Hoseok’s voice breaks through, causing you to falter as you almost pause. Even shouting, his voice is low and sends shivers through your body. A tiny whine escapes and you push forwards, almost jogging now in your effort to get back to your quarters.

Maybe a shower would get rid of this. A very cold shower, or a cold bath. You’d make a potion to counteract it but you’re nowhere near good enough to combat an advanced potion like that. 

As your door finally comes into view, and for a moment you marvel at how fast you’ve managed to move from the dungeons that house the potions classroom and the store you’d been working into your quarters.

Not quite fast enough though as Hoseok’s long legs finally let him catch up, his hand reaching out and gently grasping at your arm. He’s touching you through multiple layers of clothing and yet your skin is almost burning, the desire to have him against your bare skin stronger than ever.

You get the feeling that he’s experiencing the same as he suddenly retracts his hand, almost as if he’d burned it and lets out a hiss. The sound is sibilant and low, his breath escaping him quick and you feel a strong urge to hear it once more. 

Still, he doesn’t let his surprise or shock stop him. A look at his face shows you that his expression is a mix of concern and worry beneath the flushed cheeks of lust and glassy eyes of desire. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something? I didn’t mean to if I did. Please don’t run away from me!” He begs, one hand moving out towards you almost like it has a mind of its own. The way he looks at it, with a scowl like it’s doing something wrong, almost makes you laugh as you can understand his frustration.

You’ve had to stop yourself from reaching out to him at least twice now.

Instead, you give him a tense smile and try to ignore the fact that he’s standing a little awkwardly. It takes far more effort than you’d like to not look down because you know it’s because he has an erection that is probably uncomfortable. Something he likely doesn’t want to bring attention to.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. I just...I just needed to get out of that room, you know.” You let your words trail off awkwardly, fidgeting with your hands and trying desperately not to look at his crotch. As usual, though, the temptation to look was made all the stronger by your knowledge that you couldn’t just ogle his groin openly.

“Ah...yeah, er, right. It was quite...quite warm.” He pauses in his sentence though, looking a little conflicted and you follow where his eyes are staring. Right down to your chest, which is currently covered by a soft, cream-coloured jumper that you’d happily pulled on this morning.

It feels more than a little stifling right now though.

As soon as he registers where he’s looking, he sputters and starts to resemble a tomato. An absurdly handsome, tall tomato. The longer you let your thoughts linger there then the more stupid they begin to become.

Still, his blatant want fuels your potion addled senses and you start to speak without thinking.

“Do you like me? Romantically and sexually, you know? I’m pretty sure you do. I’m sorry that I didn’t realise, I’m dumb apparently. I know you’ve been trying to subtly tell me for ages now but I finally did! And I liked our kiss and I really want to do it again. Actually, I wanna do more than kiss you-” Hoseok cuts you off by reaching out for your hand, his fingers slightly calloused but still so damn soft.

And hot against you.

“Yes. I like you, a lot. More than you probably realise. I just didn’t want to push you or make you feel awkward-” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him, twisting your fingers until you can thread them through Hoseok’s.

A slight tug has him following you with wide eyes, the door to your classroom being pushed open and closed as soon as he’s inside. Without another word, you push him up against the wood while grasping at his shirt to tug him closer.

Your lips connect with ease and this time, it’s nothing like the previous kiss. Where that was chaste, this had the flames of lust burning deep within and you moaned out as Hoseok licked into your mouth, stoking that heat within you even further. 

Pressing yourself to his body, you let one hand trail along his shirt and sigh as you finally get to confirm that he is exactly as lean and toned as you’d initially thought. Your touch causes him to shiver, breaking away from your lips to press open-mouthed kisses to your jawline almost desperately.

“Hoseok,” Whispering into his ear, you let your other hand run your fingers through his hair before tugging on some of the black strands. “Ah, please.”

You’re not sure what you’re asking him but you don’t care either. Anything he can give you, you’ll take. 

His fingertips scorch your skin as he lets them dance over your waist, slipping beneath your jumper with a hunger he can only show. As he does so, he captures your mouth once more and kisses you with such passion and strength that you’re momentarily left breathless.

Trying to kiss him back with equal fervour while your fingers move to unbutton his shirt, losing grip on them as you refuse to move away to look down. It causes him to laugh into it, the sound pleasant and light, before he gently pushes your hands away.

Pulling away from the kiss, he presses his forehead against your own and gives a breathy smile. Glassy eyes and dilated pupils greet you while his breath hits your skin with each puff as he tries to centre himself. And then he almost looks sad; his brow creasing and the corners of his lips turning down.

“We shouldn’t...not like this. I...I really want, oh fuck I want you so bad. But this wasn’t how I imagined...you deserve better. More romantic or some-” Reaching up, you gently place a finger on his lips to quiet him. He does so instantly and you’re pleased that he doesn’t look annoyed at your interruption.

“It’s not what I imagined either but I’m not turning it down. If anything, I’m glad that potion is helping to bolster my confidence because I doubt I’d have got the courage to do anything. So, please, don’t worry about me. I want you and I’m fully aware of myself. All that potion is doing is bolstering my feelings.” You hadn’t known if that was something he was worried about and you wanted to soothe any fears he might have.

It’d be understandable because part of you is also worried that he’s only doing this because the amortentia potion is fuelling an insatiable need within. The way his eyes widen at your words before his whole body relaxes let’s you know that has been a concern of his, causing you to smile, and reach up to cup his cheeks before pulling him into a quick kiss.

“Now, please carry on and don’t stress. We’ll talk properly after, okay?” Hoseok nods and you bite your lip, trying not to laugh at how eager he looks once more. 

He doesn’t kiss you again though, instead turning and tugging on your hand. Brows rising, you follow him before watching in astonishment as he sweeps your desk clear of any papers or stationery. Part of you wants to complain, but the thought instantly vanishes when he backs you up until you can feel the solid wood against the backs of your thighs.

“Hoseok! My desk? Seriously?” Giggling, you glance around your classroom and feel a little scandalised. The door to your quarters is only a few metres away but he has an almost playful look in his eyes when he grins back at you. You’d protest doing something like this in your classroom louder if it wasn’t for the fact that you were desperate for him.

He doesn’t respond to those comments though, instead reaching out and ghosting his fingers over your cheek. It makes you shiver as you feel that touch all over.

“Once more...you want this, right? You’d want this even without the potion influence?” You wonder how much amortentia addles the mind but you reason to yourself that you’ve thought about this with him for the last week. About him between your thighs, deep inside you and pleasing you.

“I want it. I’ll want it after, too.” Purposefully lowering your voice, you look at him from beneath your lashes before reaching out and hooking your fingers around his belt. Now he’s the one laughing, the sound low and husky as he lets you pull him forward.

As if you’re magnetically attracted, your lips meet his once more and you sigh into his mouth as he pressed himself against you. Whimpering, you slide your hands around his waist and try to pull him closer. A wiggle on the hard surface has Hoseok’s erection pressing onto your clit, causing you to moan out.

He mirrors the noise, the sound hoarse from his throat and you find yourself grinding against him as well as you can. It doesn’t quite work as you have nothing to brace your legs with but neither of you seems to mind. Thankfully though, Hoseok seems to understand and begins a slow roll of his hips that drives you wild.

But it’s not enough though and you shift away from him, dragging your hands down his front and enjoying the way he moans as your nails scrape through his shirt. Reaching his belt, you fumble to undo it and frown in frustration as you struggle with it.

“Let me,” Hoseok says, undoing the buckle with practised ease and slipping the leather through the meal. The sound of it sparks something inside you, causing you to writhe on the desk and beg him to hurry up. A quirk of his lips tells you that he’s amused at your insistence.

Before he does anything else though, he reaches forward and pushes your skirt along your thighs. The soft material only adds to the overstimulation of your already wired body, causing goosebumps to form all over. 

His fingertips on the freshly exposed skin feel even better though, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs sparking fireworks of pleasure and delight at his touch. Letting your head fall back, you just let yourself focus on the feelings and whine softly, pussy clenching around nothing. 

Under normal circumstances, you would want to explore all of Hoseok and have the favour returned in full. You’d want the full experience with plenty of foreplay; his mouth and fingers delving into places that only he’s allowed to see.

You’re too desperate though and you pull your skirt up, shifting until you’re laying back on the desk and trying to tug your underwear off. It’s hard to do on the desk though and you’re thankful when Hoseok takes over, his fingers hooking into the soft material and then you’re feeling cool air.

“Fuck.” He curses, eyes focused solely between your legs. You’re almost embarrassed to realise how wet you are, the underwear in his hands sporting a prominent damp batch that has a shiny spot you can see even from here. 

Being this close to him and now being half-naked, you want him more than ever and you try to grasp at his wrist, needing him to touch you down there. Anything you can get, you’ll take. Hoseok lets you take his hand, guiding his fingers until they’re pressing against the hardened nub of your clit.

The sound you let out is obscenely loud as you move his hand until he’s touching you in just the right way to send arrows of pleasure through your body. Letting go, you let him carry on and enjoy the heat of him on you, sighing in relief at finally getting what you wanted.

It’s not enough though and you try to shift your hips, lifting them in an attempt to line his fingers with your entrance. He can tell what you’re trying to do though and grins, the expression causing his cheeks to rise while his eyes sparkle down at you.

“Do you just want to do it? You’re already really wet.” He asks, raising a brow and you nod quickly. You don’t want to waste any more time and the thought of having his cock in you is more than you can bear. It doesn’t stop you from whining in displeasure as he takes his hand away to finish undoing his trousers.

To try and combat that, you let your fingers take over from where he was. You know your body better than anyone and almost instantly you’ve got a good rhythm going. The sight of him before you, cheeks flushed with his hair looking ruffled and his shirt creased, is unbelievably erotic.

Unzipping his trousers, he pushes them down his thighs alongside his underwear. You don’t even get to see what kind he wears but you find that you don’t care. Beneath the ends of his white button-up shirt, a prominent erection stands proudly towards you. The tip is swollen and red, unsurprising given how long he’s had it for now.

He’s not the longest, nor the thickest, but you don’t care. Hoseok’s cock is quite possibly the most perfect thing you’ve seen at that moment and all you want is for him to be inside you.

Before you can vocalise that though, he’s suddenly grabbing his wand before his trousers fall to the floor. Resting the tip on your belly, he mutters a quick spell and you realise that he’s got more control of himself than you do as he’d remembered to cast a contraceptive spell. A second spell on both you and him protects you from any diseases or infections, after which he practically throws his wand to the side.

You’d protest his lack of care about something so fragile but you can’t bring yourself to care when he moves forward, letting the tip of cock rest against your pussy. The weight, almost surprising given how it defies gravity, is delightful on your clit and he presses it down, moving in a slow roll that has you sighing.

More wetness coats your pussy, which in turn coats him and you grasp one of his hands. Linking your fingers together, you pull him a little closer and mewl as he slides against the sensitive bundle of nerves once more.

“Please, Hoseok. Please” You beg, causing him to smile with satisfaction. 

Placing his free hand on your left leg, he pushes it up a little and out to the side, stretching you open a little more for him. Shivering as the air cools the slick excitement between your legs, you go to protest. It’s cut off though by the feeling of him penetrating you, the blunt head of his cock slipping into you with minimal resistance thanks to how wet you’ve gotten.

Moaning loudly, your eyes close as he stretches you with each inch. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept with anyone and the ragged cry Hoseok pulls from you is directly caused by how good he feels inside you. It’s like you can feel every inch of him as he slides deeper within, the nerves in your walls firing sparks of pleasure continuously until he finally bottoms out.

For a moment, the two of you simply stay in position and bask in the beautiful feeling. You’re panting a little and trying to resist the urge to shift your hips to encourage him to move. One glance at Hoseok tells you to let him move at his own pace.

His face is pinched, brows knitted together and his jaw looking sharper than ever as he clenches his teeth. The fingers wrapped in yours squeeze tightly and after a few seconds, he lets out a guttural groan that sounds as if it was ripped from his gut.

“Shit...Merlin’s beard, you’re so...I don’t know if I’m going to last,” He admits, his cheeks burning redder than ever. “I’m sorry if I don’t. I’ve imagined...this is…” 

Grunting, he slowly pulls out before sliding back into you with one fluid motion of his hips. A broken cry escapes your mouth at the pleasure and you reach down to rub at your clit. You’re just as desperate as he is to orgasm, to feel him thick inside you as you convulse around him while waves of pleasure leave you boneless.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just...move. Please.” You reassure him, trying to smile before your eyes roll back into your head at the second thrust. Still, your words let him gain some confidence and he continues to move in slow and steady snaps of his hips, each drag of his cock better than the last.

Lifting onto your elbows, you risk a glance down to take in the sight of him thrusting into you. His cock is soaked with your wetness and you realise suddenly that it’s causing lewd sounds every time he moves. You’d be embarrassed at it but the sound is strangely erotic to you; the knowledge that he’s caused you to become this wet and experience this much pleasure intoxicating.

The two of you don’t speak for a minute or so after that, far too caught up in just enjoying yourselves and all the feelings that course through your bodies. You suppose the potion is a little to blame for the almost selfish nature of the sex, but there’s also more than enough longing and desire on his side mixing with eagerness and attraction on your own.

“Fuck, I think-I think I’m gonna cum.” Hoseok pants out, his whole chest moving as he gasps out from the strenuous effort of sex. His face has a sheen to it and the damper patches on his white shirt indicate how much he’s sweating from it. Probably also a little from just how warm you’d both ended up.

Moaning out in response, you tip your head back against the cool wood of your desk and let your hand do its work. The combination of his cock inside you and your fingers playing on your clit blend together perfectly and you writhe wildly.

“Ah...shit.” His entire body going rigid as he pushes into you as far as he can get. Watching him, you cry out at how beautiful and sexy he looks as he orgasms; his jaw tightly clenched to show off that beautiful line of bone while the tendons in his neck strain. The hand entwined with yours squeezes harder than ever and he seems to just inside you in tiny movements, almost like he’s extending his pleasure without wasting too much effort.

You can feel the subtle twitch of his cock deep within you and the knowledge that he’s orgasming inside you has your fingers swirling on your clit harder and faster than before. Tightening your inner muscles, you relish in the strangled moan Hoseok lets out and the increase of feeling.

Not long after he lets out a final sigh, deeper than anything else, and he strokes his free hand down your thigh. It’s almost an encouraging touch and even though he’s finished, he moves in you with a slow and lazy stroke. The slight wince he has tells you that he’s probably a little overstimulated but he doesn’t complain and you cry out as your whole body tenses up.

Back bowing and head pressing into the desk, you tighten your eyes closed as high pitched whines and breathes escape your throat. Hips rolling in a circular motion, you continue to stroke at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until the sensation becomes too much. Pulling your hand away, you’re surprised when Hoseok grabs at it suddenly.

He slips out of you, his cock rapidly becoming flaccid nows that’s had his fill and you shift at the sensation of liquid that’s slightly thicker than your excitement beginning to leak from you. The knowledge that it’s come from him is surprisingly arousing and you try to push the thought away.

Something not helped by the fact that Hoseok takes the fingers that had been so busy with your clit and licks them clean, groaning out quietly as he finally gets to taste you. It’s probably not the way he imagined doing it, but Merlin, it’s certainly an attractive way.

“That was good,” He finally says, letting your hand drop and you miss the feel of his tongue already. “Better than I’ve ever imagined...and I imagined it a lot.”

He’s flushed from the intense exercise but the bashful look to his eyes tells you that some of that pink tinge is also from his shyness. You can’t help but grin at the fact he’s getting quiet after just fucking you so hard on your desk.

Sitting up slowly, you stretch and enjoy the satisfying feeling of multiple muscles in your body and the overall sense of contentment that washes through you. Reaching forward, you wrap your arms around his neck after he’s tugged his trousers and underwear back up before kissing him gently.

“How flattering, Professor Jung. I feel honoured.” There’s a hint of teasing in your voice but you keep it light enough to know that you’re not being mean to him. Instead, you’re pleased by his admission that he’s thought of you sexually. Perhaps you don’t want to know about what his teenage fantasies were but you’ll happily accept his adult fantasies.

It works to make him snort a laugh and shake his head, stroking his hands along your waist.

“And as amazing as the sex was...I’m feeling a little tired and sore from the desk. So let’s take this into my quarters, shall we?” Pushing him, you hop off the desk and let your skirt fall back into place. It’s creased now and there’s likely wet stains on the back alongside what will eventually become semen stains too.

Hoseok doesn’t follow you as you move towards the door leading to your bedroom, causing you to turn and give him an arched brow in question. Opening the door without looking at it, you smile brightly before winking.

“Well? Do you want me to be alone in my bed?” Turning away from him, you quickly pull off your shirt and throw it out of the door for him to see. It’s only seconds before you hear the sound of him following quickly, causing you to smile to yourself.

-

Yawning widely, you stretch out your arms and almost hit Hoseok in the face. Toes brushing against his leg as you do so, he lets out a laugh that’s more movement than sound. The rumble of his chest beneath your cheek is comforting and you sigh deeply in contentment. It had been only half an hour or so since you’d had sex and what was likely only three hours since you’d both fucked the first time.

You had to give Hoseok credit; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Just the thought of the frantic sex on your desk had you heating up in dual embarrassment and desire. Embarrassment because...well it was your desk! In your classroom. How were you ever going to look at the table without remembering what had happened on top of it?

The desire was a more obvious, and expected, emotion though. Experiencing that again would be very welcomed on your behalf and you suspected that Hoseok would be just as open to it.

Nuzzling your head into him, you took in a deep breath to get a concentrated dose of Hoseok mixed with sex. It was a heady scent and you squeeze your thighs, feeling the wetness that was still there. 

Despite the horny monster he’s released, you feel a sense of tired contentment between you both. Hoseok hasn’t said anything since you’d both collapsed onto the bed after a rigorous second round and you hadn’t wanted to interrupt it yet. It was nice to just enjoy the tired aftermath of sex without the pressure of talking anything out.

Even if you knew that you both had to.

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Hoseok takes a deep breath that has your head rising.

“I didn’t intend for...well for this. I swear,” He says, his voice a little nervous and you can tell he’s uncertain about how you’re going to respond now the potion has run its course. “I’m sorry for knocking the potion over, it was stupid of me.”

Pushing up onto your elbow, you reach up and place a finger against his lips to stop him from saying anything else. He looks at you, his cheeks adorably full from this angle and his eyes dark while he waits for you to say whatever you’re thinking.

What you’re thinking is that his lips are so soft beneath your fingertip, plush and swollen from the frantic kisses. Before you can think of anything else, you shift forward until you’re kissing him once more, the movement slow enough for him to stop it if he didn’t want to.

He lets you though, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck in support, and opening his mouth to deepen it. A quiet moan leaves your throat as you slant your mouth against his, tilting your head to find the perfect angle and shivering as he slips his tongue into your willing mouth. 

Any hint of a conversation disappears between you both, his free hand running down your naked back in a slow stroke that’s so sensual it has you quivering. But you know that he understands that you’re not annoyed at him; actually the exact opposite.

Pulling away, you lick at your lips and note the unfiltered lust in his eyes as he watches you do so, before smiling at him. Brushing some of his dark hair away from his face, admiring just how handsome he was.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly. I was fully aware of myself and wanted it. I already told you that and I meant it. The potion just helped me to get over my inhibitions. Trust me, I was already considering this after the Winter Solstice Ball. I just didn’t know how to get over the hurdle of being nervous about it.” Now it’s his turn to comfort you, his fingertips tracing across your face in a featherlight touch.

It’s almost painfully tender and the sparkling warmth in his eyes tells you that there’s something much deeper there for him. But you don’t push and he doesn’t spill. He’ll tell you when he’s comfortable with it, and you’ll be there to hear it.

Instead, he opens up with an entirely different kind of vulnerability. The confidence he’s shown so far disappears and you note fondly that it makes him look younger. Something he’d probably hate you saying.

You’ve finally figured out why he never likes conversation about the age difference between you both, at least.

“Really? Do you really mean that? I mean, about considering it?” Hoseok sounds awkward, his voice pitching higher than normal at one point and causing him to cough while his cheeks darken. The urge to coo is unbelievable.

“Yes, I mean it. I was a little taken aback when I first came here and I saw how much you’d changed since I’d last seen you. But you became one of my closest friends and the last few weeks has had me looking at you...in a slightly different light. You were...unreal at the ball and it made me realise a lot of things. And the kiss spurred that on, too. I talked with Jisoo and she helped me to see that...you’re not just her little brother. I’d been putting that label on you in an attempt to keep you at arm’s length, but I don’t want that now. I don’t need to, because I’ve accepted that I find you attractive and I would be open to more if you wanted it.” The words fall from your mouth in a rush, taking advantage of the confidence you had to get this out.

“I want it.” You don’t even get to say anything else because Hoseok interrupts you with those three simple words, the syllables fast as his enthusiasm takes over. Snorting quietly, you kiss his cheek affectionately and enjoy it when it pinkens once more.

“Someone’s eager.” Teasing him, you roll onto your back and let out a sigh as you stare up at the blank ceiling. There’s a slight chill in the air, common in such an old castle as Hogwarts, but you feel your nipples pebble from it. Shuddering, you go to tug the blanket over your naked body and Hoseok’s.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a while, so yeah. But we can talk about that more later if you want?” Looking over at him, you smile at the happiness on his face and note how he seems so much lighter than before. The knowledge that you’ve done this to him is a little overwhelming, causing you to let out a sudden breath.

And then you notice that he’s not only happy in the metaphorical sense but also in the physical sense, a prodding against your thigh causing you to peek under the blanket. Sure enough, his well-endowed erection was very prominent against you.

Raising an eyebrow, you look up at Hoseok with a mix of exasperation, amusement and admiration.

“Already? Three times in an evening?” Now Hoseok is the one smirking, the palm of his hand pressing flat against your stomach before slowly creeping down your body. The low lying flame of desire that had settled burns back to life now and you subtly wriggle in your bed, thighs opening as your body tries to get those long fingers where you want them.

“One of the benefits of a younger man,” Wiggling his brows, he grins when you chuckle before pushing at his chest. “If our age difference is ever mentioned again then I want this to be the thing you remember most.”

And with that, he flashes his teeth in a mischievous smile before disappearing under the blanket, ignoring your shriek of laughter at how his fingers tickle. That laughter soon dissolves into a moan when he reaches his destination though and as you grasp his hair tightly, glad that you finally took the plunge and realised what a wonderful man Jung Hoseok is.

[ssidesblog]

do you really talk to god? i wonder what he tells you

patton centric, 3,397 wc, angst, hs au, ao3

patton comes out to his parents, it isn’t pretty

The cold night air had a personal vendetta against him, Patton was sure. He sucked in and brought a hand up to his throat as it burned. His spit was thick but he swallowed it just to have some kind of liquid aid his aching throat. His head pounded in beat to his heart and he couldn’t say he enjoyed the feeling. A gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine. 

Maybe it wasn’t logical to be sitting on his roof in the middle of a cold October night but Patton couldn’t seem to bring himself down to his room. Despite the less than ideal weather, the night calmed him. The stars weren’t bright and he knew there were too few to make up a whole night sky but he could see more than usual. No porch lights polluted the sky, everything was asleep; husbands and wives slept in their beds, their kids doing the same, and Patton sat awake but he was as quiet as the people below him, save for a sniffle here and there but he’s sure somebody was snoring loudly enough to make up for the noise. 

And Patton couldn’t sleep anyway. Too many emotions ran through his heart and spread themselves through his veins like a disease until he acknowledged their presence. And once they were known, the tears were to be expected. These emotions were not new. They were an old thing that had made themselves a home in Patton’s body, even though he had made it clear they weren’t invited; he didn’t want to be a house, he didn’t want to be an occupied space. But once they had moved in it wasn’t as if Patton could totally ignore them. On most days he did, but they had always loved the night anyway. 

So Patton sat on his roof. He was messy and snot faced and the tear streaks on his face were only beginning to dry. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his folded arms on top. His chin was placed on his forearms and his gaze found its way to the sky. 

“I never did understand this part.” Patton spoke, talking to nobody, or maybe he was talking to everyone. He didn’t know. He just knew he had to address somebody. “I don’t really like it.” He whispered.

“Is there a reason you stuck me here with them?” His eyes searched for a figure maybe made of stars. “You’re known for being kind but I don’t see how this is fair.” 

A pause as if waiting for a response. 

“You’ve never been a talker.” He mumbled. God didn’t really like answering Patton’s questions. He thought maybe he did answer his curiosity in little ways, in the people Patton surrounded himself with, in ways Patton couldn’t really describe. He let out a sigh. 

“I hope you’re right in the end. I never have been a fan of sad endings,” He lowered his gaze to his small town’s skyline, “Though, Virgil has always told me a sad ending is necessary sometimes. But is that how my story ends?” By the time he asked the question his voice had gone almost completely quiet. 

“I don’t know what to do. How do I know what’s right? How do I work up the courage to say who I am? Confidence has never been my strong suit.” The sky never opened its mouth to respond. Patton knew God would never speak to him in such an obvious way. “How am I supposed to proclaim who I am when I still don’t know fully who that is?” In the quiet of the night, Patton realized with a start who he needed to be talking to. Because even though it was nearly three in the morning, he knew he could talk to him, knew he would be willing to have Patton pick him up, drive his truck to the park by their houses and would sit with him until he felt better. 

Roman maybe said yes to things too easily. Or maybe he just said yes to Patton too easily. Patton couldn’t find it in himself to reassure him it was ok if he said no, because despite his efforts, Patton was not a selfless person. One could argue that he was selfish and he would agree: hesitant, reluctant. But he couldn’t help it. Roman was a constant in his life, he kept him grounded and safe. He knew just what to say when Patton wasn’t feeling well, he knew when to push, he knew when he needed a hug. He knew Patton in ways Patton didn’t even know himself. Patton always thought Roman may have been a guardian angel. He doesn’t think he’ll ever not think that. He could just imagine God sending him down in the form of a freckled 5 year old kid who’s left front tooth was missing, stick in hand, though if he was asked that was his sword, determined to protect him. Roman always referred to their meeting as fate, a sort of destiny. Patton found himself agreeing. 

The house creaked when he stepped back inside. The wailing only stopped when he was out the front door, phone in hand. The text he’d sent was met with an almost immediate response, a confirmation. With that, Patton got in his car and drove one street over. Roman was already standing on the curb when he got there. 

“Did you have another freaky sixth sense moment?” Patton asked as Roman sat in the passenger's seat. 

“I did,” Roman said with a grin, “Woke up in a start knowing you would be needing me.” Patton never knew if Roman was telling the truth. He never asked. The short ride to the park was made in silence. Patton parked the car and climbed out, jumping into the back. Roman quickly followed. They lied on their backs, facing the too open sky. The small blanket that covered the bed of the truck only took away some of the uncomfortable ridges of the trunk. 

“So what’s on your mind, Pat?” Roman’s voice was softer than usual, a certain reservedness only used with his friends. 

“How do I come out when I already know it’s going to end badly?” Patton asked, getting straight to the point. There was no use beating around the bush. 

“You don’t need to come out.” 

“I’m sick of not being able to be my true self, whoever that is,” Patton’s voice could only be described as tired, “I need to be able to live as myself to figure out who I am. I’m almost an adult, Roman and I don’t even know who I am yet.” 

“You will never just be one person,” Roman laid his hand out, palm faced up. An invitation. Patton took it. “You’re always changing and growing.” 

“How can I grow when the things I need to sustain myself are being taken away from me?” Patton squeezed Roman’s hand, “They haven’t given me the room to be my own person. I’m outgrowing the room they gave me and they can’t see that. That room was never meant for me.” Roman took a second to respond. His thumb lazily traced over Patton’s knuckles. 

“They’ll never notice until you tell them. You need to do what will make you happy, Patton.” 

“What if I’m not made for happiness?” 

“There’s no reason for a what if,” Roman’s gentle tone felt like a comforting hand on his back, “I know you’re made for happiness. That’s what everybody is made for. Pain and sadness are necessary components to happiness. You’ve seen Inside Out.” Conversations were never heavy with Roman. He made things easier. 

“I’m scared.” Patton admitted. 

“You should be.” Roman’s reply would sound harsh to anybody else, but Patton understood. 

“If I need a place to stay-” 

“You don’t even need to ask, Puffball,” Roman was smiling, “You’ve heard it from each of us, our house is your house.” Patton knew that, but this could be messy and he could need a permanent place to live. 

“I’ve already told Mama you might need a place to live whenever you decide to come out. She’s more than happy to let you stay with us.” Roman said, sensing Patton’s hesitation. 

“I couldn’t be more thankful.” 

“You’re like a son to her. Probably her favorite.” Roman said with a laugh. Patton chuckled. They laid in silence for a few minutes. It was peaceful and the grounding weight of Roman’s hand in his made it easier for Patton to breathe. 

“When are you gonna do it?” Roman asked. 

“Tomorrow,” Patton responded, much to Roman’s surprise, “I’ll keep putting it off if I don’t.” Patton explained. 

“That makes sense.” There’s a pause before he speaks again, “Please be careful.” He moved their intertwined hands to his chest, holding Patton’s hand protectively. 

“I’ll try my best.” Patton responded. 

Maybe God would never give a direct answer to Patton. He didn’t mind, not really, because he had Roman and his calloused hands and his soft words. Maybe this was God’s way of answering him.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Patton’s hands couldn’t stop shaking. He’d felt nauseous all day. But he knew what needed to be done and today had to be the day. Patton made his way to the small dining table, setting out plates and utensils as his mother had asked. He took his seat shortly after. He looked to the painting of Jesus that hung in front of him. He said a quick prayer. 

“How was your day?” Patton directed this question at his father. 

“Work was usual.” He answered. The response was too short, his dad was already in a bad mood. That was less than ideal. The dinner was eaten in silence. That was commonplace, conversation hadn’t been easy with his parents lately. Patton took their dishes to the kitchen and cleaned them as quickly as he could. 

“Can I talk to you guys?” Patton asked once he’d stepped into the living room where his parents had migrated. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” His mom muted the TV and suddenly Patton felt so small. His parents stared at him expectedly. He took in a deep breath. 

“I know this is going to be hard to hear,” His eyes were focused on his fidgeting hands, “But you need to know. I’m gay.” Patton knew that wasn’t the full truth. He was bisexual but that gave too much hope for Patton’s parents to hold onto. His voice was low, almost a rumble. The silence stretched on for what could have been days, weeks, years. Patton decided on years. His dad stood up from the couch. He watched his mom and dad have a conversation with their eyes. Finally, he looked at Patton, expression a mix of anger, disgust, and, mostly, disappointment. 

“I want you out of my house within the hour.” His voice was cold and tight. Patton knew this was a possibility, he always thought that’s how it would end and he thought he’d accepted it. But now it was happening and he was angry. Because this was his dad. They had gone fishing once a month, every month since he was 10. He was always humoring Patton’s dad jokes and even adding some of his own. He had taught him how to ride a bike and then how to drive. He’d always been so patient. 

“So that’s it?” Patton asked incredulously, “16 years of being your son and suddenly that’s all thrown out the window?” Patton’s voice shook but the anger was still clear. And maybe even he could hear how broken he sounded. 

“I didn’t raise you to be like that, Patton. You’re no son of mine.” His dad’s voice held a malice Patton had never heard before. Patton looked at his mom, eyes pleading.

“You heard him, Patton. Don’t make things difficult.” His mom had always agreed with his dad. They were good together, there wasn’t a doubt in Patton’s mind that they were made for each other. He looks at the woman who had taught him to read. She was always quiet and reserved, nothing quite like himself. She always talked about the importance of words, how the words he said would affect the people he spoke them to. She had taught him to always be kind. 

“I guess kindness has its limits, huh?” Patton mostly mumbled the phrase but his parents still heard it. 

“We are being generous,” His dad practically spat out the words, “I’d have you shipped out to one of those conversion areas but that doesn’t take away the sin.” 

“God still loves me.” Patton said. 

“God may love despite the sin, but I am not God, Patton.” With that, his dad left the room. Patton was shaking again. He could feel his eyes tear up but he willed himself not to cry. He gave a final glance to his mother before disappearing to his room. He already had his clothes packed. They had already been tucked away in a suitcase for two days. He shoved his laptop and other electronics into a backpack. Patton didn’t have much, a reflection of his family’s wealth. He didn’t mind and at the moment it seemed like a blessing. He took out his phone and sent a text to Roman saying he would be staying with him. He left his house with two backpacks and one suitcase. His mother stood on the porch. 

“We do not want you to come back.” She said, “And even though I am angry and disgusted, I want you to be safe.” His heart ached. His parents were never evil, he knew this, no matter how upset he was. 

“I’m staying with a friend.” Was his response. She nodded. Patton took that as his cue to leave and walked to his truck, shoving his things in the back seat. 

“Patton.” He looked at his mom. “I know what your father said but you will always be our child. God gave us the responsibility of taking care of you, but I do not think we are capable of handling…: She paused, a flash of disgust graced her face, “Your situation. I think we both know it’s better for you to not be under our roof.” He nodded. She turned and opened the door to the house and paused. She looked back at Patton. “God may love you in spite of your lifestyle but always remember that you do not know God, Patton.” And with that she entered the house and closed the door. 

Patton was parked outside Roman’s house shortly after. His truck was turned off but he still sat in there. His hands were gripped to the steering wheel. He could feel his breathing become more shallow. He was shaking again. Suddenly, he couldn’t breath. Tears were welling up in his eyes and as they started to descend down his face he felt something in him break. He curled in on himself, arms thrown over the steering wheel, forehead resting against its leather. He didn’t remember when he’d started screaming but by the way his throat scratched he knew it had to have been for a while. He couldn’t stop himself and he didn’t know how much he wanted to. Maybe he should be feeling like this. His own parents had just kicked him out and used his own God against him. He could hear himself calling for his mom, which he knew was no use. It was a habit, he had always been able to call for his mom if he was hurting. But she’d just let him leave. And he didn’t understand what she’d said and the thought of those being the last words she’d ever say to him made him sob even louder. 

His car door opened and he saw a familiar face. Olive skin and freckles, deep, brown eyes, perfect teeth. Roman was familiar. He was vaguely aware he was having a panic attack. Roman was instructing him to take in deep breaths. He tried his best but he kept messing up. But Roman was patient. Like his dad. And Patton needed to stop thinking of them. After a few minutes, Patton had calmed down enough to gather up his bags and walk into the house. Roman’s mom stood in the living room, water and medication in hand. She walked over to him and placed both items in his hands. 

“The aspirin will help the eventual headache.” She spoke softly, kindly. She rubbed his arm before disappearing into her own room. Patton was led to Roman’s room, which would be doubling as Patton’s. He set down his things next to an air mattress that already had a blanket lying on it. 

“Mama said we’ll get you a bed as soon as you’re feeling ok to go out.” Roman said, sitting on his own bed. Patton couldn’t help feeling like he was intruding. 

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse. He took the aspirin and downed the whole cup of water. 

“Come lay down here,” Roman patted his bed, “I’ll put on Winnie the Pooh and you can try to relax.” Patton would always be amazed at Roman’s ability to know exactly what he needed. He crawled into Roman’s bed, wrapped in the blanket that had been on the air mattress. Roman connected his computer to the small TV that sat at the end of his bed and played Pooh’s Grand Adventure. He joined Patton on the bed and wrapped his arms around him. They stayed like that the entire movie. Roman made jokes here and there and Patton could only manage a quick chuckle. But by the end of it, he felt a little better. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asked as the credits played. 

“There’s not much to say,” Patton’s voice was barely above a whisper, “They kicked me out. My dad told me I’m not his son and my mom told me otherwise while also implying that God’s love for me was conditional.” Patton knew he wasn’t going to cry again, he’d already let it all out, but his voice was weak when he spoke and he sounded near tears. 

“Well she’s just not right.” Roman said. Patton tilted his head. Roman brushed Patton’s hair out of his face and kept his hand rested on his cheek as he talked, “From what I know of God he will love you no matter what. That’s what’s so special about God, he holds unconditional love for his children.” Patton knew Roman wasn’t good with religion, it hadn’t been a part of his life for many years. But he was right and deep down Patton knew he was. 

“Patton,” Roman spoke again, “I love you no matter what, and I know it’s different because I’m your friend, but you mean the world to me. Your parents are assholes for doing this to you. Allow yourself to be angry and upset. You don’t have to pretend to be happy.” Roman held Patton’s head to his chest and tangled his hand into his hair. 

“You know me well.” Patton weakly responded. 

“And knowing you has been one of the best things to happen to me.” Roman said and placed his head on top of Patton’s. Voices from the TV could be heard coming from Remus’s room next door, and if Patton listened closely he could hear Roman’s mom getting ready for her night shift. It was another average day in the house, it was all so familiar. 

“I think I may be home.” Patton whispered, as if saying it too loud would make it not true. 

“I think you may be, too.” Roman said. 

That night, Patton slept in Roman’s bed. It felt more like a sleepover that way. Patton knew things would take getting used to, but he knew he’d be able to adjust. Roman had always been a home and Patton took residence the moment they met eyes at the age of 5 years old. Guardian angel, fate, destiny, Roman, home; it was all the same to Patton. And maybe Patton couldn’t talk to God, maybe he would only be left with unanswered questions, but being held in Roman’s arms felt an awful lot like God was talking to him in that moment. 

“It's okay.” He seemed to say and who was Patton to argue with God. 

[oureuphoria]

Worst of You - JJK 07

You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X  collegestudent!reader

Word count: 3k

Note: I’m uploading TWICE tonight because I love you and I love writing and I love Jungkook.

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 

Much to your dismay, Jungkook had started passively ignoring you. All your messages were either ignored or replied to with ‘busy’ 3 hours after he read them. Your calls when straight to voicemail and whenever you tried to arrange something he’d cancel. You knew his job was demanding but you couldn’t understand why he had no time in the past 10 days to message you back at all. Hell, you were sure he had Sundays off so when Sunday eventually came, you were positive he was avoiding you and you planned to get to the bottom of it. 

It was a Wednesday and a full week since you had failed your Dorm inspection. Your room was spotless and you kept the commons room clean however, Alex’s room was a complete mess and they found weed in her possession. She was given a 14-day notice of eviction and while you disliked her, you still felt bad. She assured you that she had family nearby and that she wasn’t planning on staying anyway. The fact that Alex couldn’t careless pushed you not to care either. 

For a short, blissful moment, you had believed that you would be peacefully alone, but someone was already arranged to take her spot and you needed to prepare yourself for the awkward tension of living with a stranger. You didn’t have time to dwell over your living arrangements, you had high schoolers to tutor. That day, the tutoring session you had ran longer than usual, 45 minutes over to be specific. You never charged overtime because you weren’t a monster but you certainly didn’t appreciate it and when the session was finally over, the overwhelming sense of relief had engulfed you.

Fighting through your tiredness, you decided against going home so you could visit Jungkook instead. You thought he wouldn’t be able to ignore you in person and boy were you wrong. When you had first approached the reception desk, you were surprised to see a younger lady, one with a much nicer smile. At first, that made you glad, the other lady, albeit efficient at her job, was standoffish and blatantly rude. However, you would soon regret every trusting that deceptively sweet smile of hers.

“How can I help you?” “Hi, I’m here to see Jungkook?” You ignored her coy smile and the way she rolled her eyes. Maybe she was having a bad day and deserved the benefit of the doubt. “What’s your name?” You stuttered when you said it which was embarrassing enough but then she called him and rather loudly stated that ‘one of your hookups was here to see you’ and when she had said your name, she let out a chuckle at his reaction. “He said he’s busy and just a piece of advice from my personal experience, if he didn’t call you back then he’s really not interested.” You’ve always been good at having a poker face although it proved useless in moments where you were severely upset and this was bordering on becoming one. However, you pushed back whatever tears were threatening to fall and gave her a curt smile. “Noted.” 

When you were finally at your dorm, you couldn’t even sleep. Instead you doodled Pokemon characters in your books and try to make sense of all that had happened. Maybe he wasn’t into you. You were emotional the day that he had confessed, maybe he just pitied you and wanted to spare the pain of rejection. You let out a frustrated sigh as you angrily crushed the paper you were drawing on, aiming it directly into your bin. 

From then on you didn’t message, call or visit Jungkook at all until Saturday night. You remember him telling you that he normally had Saturday nights off unless there was an emergency, most of the cases on those nights were just drunk brawls and people who had too much to drink. The phone rang for a bit before it abruptly stopped indicating that he had hung up on you. You told yourself that was it, the last chance you’d give him. If he wanted to talk to you, he would and evidently, he didn’t. However, forgetting about him was easier said then done which was why you found yourself walking through central park at 8pm in October.

You didn’t do much, just wandered around and stared at ducks which were rather displeased with your lack of bread. You went to a street vendor for a pretzel that was far too overpriced but you didn’t seem to care, happy enough that you had something warm in your hands. You even tried to befriend a small bird but it turned out that it just cared about your pretzel and your so-called ‘friend’ flew away the moment you had finished it. 

Realising you hadn’t checked your phone in a while, you fished it out of your pocket while seated on a park bench and much to your distaste, you had 2 missed calls from the last person you wanted to speak to. 

Jungkook was genuinely busy, that much was true, but even in the moments that he wasn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to reply to you. He grew so accustomed to worrying about no one else but himself that communicating constantly slipped his mind. He wasn’t the best replier and whenever he’d remind himself to call you back, it’d be too late in the night for you to pick up. He wasn’t good at this, he never knew what to say and once you stopped talking to him altogether he felt guilty because his first reaction was relief. He truly was an asshole and you deserved so much better which was why Jungkook had decided to let you go.

Saturday nights were usually reserved for Jungkook’s close circle of friends and their drinking habits. Jungkook normally went home with a girl and this time was no exception, in fact, he desperately needed the distraction. However, mid-way through his conversation with some random girl he had hoped to take home, you rang and he stared at his phone for a moment before hanging up. The moment his finger hit decline, he could feel guilt and regret consume him. 

You hadn’t actually meant to call Jungkook. You had meant to call back Jimin since it was awfully peculiar of him to call you at 11pm (or ever?) for no foreseeable reason but your finger had slipped and you called the person right under Jimin’s contact. Since Jungkook was the last person you called, you called Jungkook and you didn’t even notice until he picked up. You were confused at the voice which was obviously not Jimin’s so you quickly checked the caller ID only to realise it was the man who ghosted you for 2 weeks. 

Jungkook was half-naked and making out with the same girl on his bed when you called again. He forgot to put his phone on silent so the ringing persisted quite loudly. He tried to ignore it but it droned on for a bit. “Just pick it up, I’m not going anywhere.” She gave him a suggestive wink while he apologised and grabbed his phone, walking to the bathroom. “What’s up?” He breathed out in a tone that was evidently annoyed and there was a pause before you replied. “Nothing much, nice to hear from you again.” Your tone was painfully sarcastic and all Jungkook could do was sigh before replying. “Now isn’t a good time Y/N.” “It’s the only time though, right? Since you only pick up the phone once every 14 days.” 

The line went quiet for a bit which allowed you to hear a female voice in the background asking if everything was okay. You weren’t stupid, you got the hint and so you scoffed and hung up. When Jungkook checked his phone again to see that you’d hung up, he ran his hands over his face and resisted the urge to pull his hair out. He hurt you and it was in that brief moment of extreme guilt that Jungkook had realised he regretted every pushing you away. The deed was done though, so he left the bathroom and shook off his guilt. “Sorry, where were we?”

Despite your blood boiling and your fractured heart, you called Jimin back, properly this time. “Hey, Jimin what’s up?” “Hey, it’s an emergency. I need you to tutor me and I-” “No.” And with that you hung up, Jimin was the last person you wanted to spend time with and the last person you owed a favour too.

__________________

It had been 2 weeks since you had last seen Jungkook and your birthday was in 6 days. You weren’t sure how you were going to celebrate it or if you even wanted to at all. You cleared your lessons for that day because you didn’t really feel like spending your 21st birthday with annoying high schoolers. You were still fairly upset about what happened with Jungkook. For the first time, someone showed a genuine interest in you as a person and it turned out to be a complete bust. You were undeniably heartbroken and Jimin surely didn’t fix it.

“Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” You made a sound of disgust when Jimin interrupted your once peaceful lunch. “I don’t think Alex would approve of this.” A bald faced lie, after all Alex didn’t give a shit what you did. “I don’t think she cares about me enough to approve or disapprove.” “She cried for hours when you broke up, I think she cares.” “Why would she care, she cheated on me.” Your face was tangled in confusion although it sounded like something Alex would do. What you couldn’t understand was why Alex had spread a rumour that Jimin cheated on her. “Why did you let her spread that rumour about you then?” Jimin looked at you, clearly not willing to answer but your curious gaze was undeterred so Jimin continued anyway. “If a girl cheats, she’s labeled the campus slut. If a guy cheats, he just gets praised for it. You see where I’m going here?” You smiled at the realisation that Jimin could be genuinely nice when he wanted to be. What a shocking concept. “And they say chivalry is dead.” Jimin jokingly punched your arm.

“Now, to the point, as you may already know, I’m on the verge of failing Peterson’s class and I desperately need your guidance.” You looked at him weirdly, you tutored high school kids, not students in your classes. “I really can’t help you, sorry,” Jimin whined before grabbing your arm and shaking it like a child. “Pretty please, I need to do well in this class otherwise I have to repeat it and get set a whole semester behind.” “You could just do the class during the Summer.” “Oh Y/N, you’re so funny, I don’t do Summer school, it’s not my thing.” “Maybe it should be?” “Look, I’m begging you, I need your help." You cursed yourself for your extreme sympathy because you resolve was surely wavering. “I can’t tutor you but, you can study with me and I’ll help you out.” Jimin smiled, hugging you in a painfully tight embrace. “Who would’ve thought we’d be study buddies, huh?” Your unimpressed face gave Jimin the impression that you didn’t enjoy his attempt at humour so he immediately shut up.

From that point forward, you and Jimin had unexpectedly spent a lot of time together. He was similar to Alex, only genuinely nice when they chose to be and it was soon obvious why they didn’t work out. They were too alike. In the week leading up to your birthday, you had spent a good portion of your time with Jimin. Albeit most of the time was spent revising, you had actually grown to enjoy his company and truly consider him a friend. 

Unfortunately, the morning of your birthday was a rather anti-climactic one. You didn’t feel any different than your 20-year-old self and you didn’t have any plans for the day. Except one. It was a Saturday and your new roommate was set to move in this Monday which was why you decided that you would get absolutely shit-faced on your birthday. You’d never had alcohol before, never even entered a club and you were excited to explore these things despite the fact that you hate crowded places and bitter things. It was the socially accepted protocol to get drunk on your 21st birthday and who were you to stray from tradition? 

There was a knock on your door which you responded to hesitantly. You knew it would be Jimin since you had buzzed him in but you were dreading the awkward ‘happy birthday’ interaction. “Happy Birthday, kiddo.” You let him in but kicked his shin as he stepped inside, you still hated when he called you that. “Thank you.” You were genuinely thankful in spite of your dreadful tone. It had been a long, hard week and you were simply glad it was over. 

Since Jimin had been part of your ‘friend’ group since 7th grade, he came to every single one of your birthday parties. You threw a party every year as advised by Alex and ebbed though you hated them, they always seemed to make your friends happy. Alex liked to pretend that she was being nice by helping you out but everyone just wanted an excuse to have fun. No one really bought you gifts and people barely even knew the party was for you. And like clockwork, every year, Jimin would be invited to your party and every year, he ignored you. But not this one. 

“I’m going to make up every birthday I’ve ever ruined today.” You giggled a bit out of disbelief, taking the gift that he had brought for you from his hand. “Honestly I don’t mind, I forgot about it.” You didn’t but you weren’t one to hold grudges. At least not for long. “Nope, you are going to have the best 21st birthday in the history of 21st birthdays and then you’re going to forgive me for all the bad things I’ve done and we’re going to be best friends.” You laughed even harder at his monologue, till you realised he was being serious. “Oh wow, you’re actually serious, okay.”

Jimin made you open the large gift box he got you and inside was a short, black dress that you would’ve mistaken for a skirt if not for the lacy sleeves and open back. “Jimin, thank you, it’s a gorgeous dress but you can’t seriously expect me to wear this.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. “I can’t go into the club tonight with a girl who looks like she came out of a Disney production.” You hit Jimin’s head with the box lid. “Fine, I’ll wear the stupid dress as long as you don’t complain when you have to take care of me!” He waved you off and left, assuring you he’d be back at 7pm. 

Jimin came 30 minutes early and helped you with your makeup. Your range was fairly limited since you usually kept things naturally and Jimin didn’t appreciate it. “And you call yourself a lady. Disgraceful.” Jimin also tried to make you wear your hair down but you refused consistently for at least 10 minutes before he gave in. Having your hair down was something you reserved for when you were alone. You just felt more comfortable with it up. 

You convinced Jimin to let you wear a long coat because it was cold outside and you were walking but he made you promise you’d take it off once you got into the club which was a fair condition. However, when you had seen the line you presumed you’d never make it in anyway. Jimin grabbed your hand and waltzed straight to the doors where they immediately greeted him and let him in, no questions asked. They stopped you for an ID check though to which you gladly complied and the bouncer wished you an insincere happy birthday which made you far happier than it should’ve.

When you got in Jimin pulled at your coat which you reluctantly let go of and handed it to the waiters waiting in the foyer. You’d never been to a club before but your imagination couldn’t even fathom this. It was huge. There were hundreds of people and you could feel your anxiety increasing at a riveting pace. “I want to go home.” “Not until you’re completely wasted, let’s go.” Jimin takes you straight to the bar where you both sit, you start to spin yourself on the stool childishly before Jimin abruptly stopped you, scolding you a little as if you were 10.

The bartender was busy taking a group’s order and it took a couple of glances before you realised the group was the NYPD and Jungkook was right there. “Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.” You were smacking his arm to get his attention off the menu boards and onto you. “What, child?” You told Jimin about Jungkook during one of the earlier study periods and Jimin was convinced he was actually secretly in love with you but didn’t want to put you in danger which is why he let you go. You laughed a lot at his barbaric fantasy. 

“Look, there’s Jungkook, the one in the white dress shirt.” Jimin skimmed the group and suddenly realised why you were so sure he was out of your league. He was out of everyone’s league. Broad chest and chiseled jaw. The man had an intimidating aura that was balanced out by his softer features like his eyes and lips. Jimin was amazed and he didn’t bother hiding it. “Damn, if I looked like him I’d never let myself get tied down either.” You elbowed his side, pouting angrily. “What Y/N? He’s built like a god, I’m not going to deny it.” “I know. He’s so annoyingly handsome.” Jimin hummed in agreement and after, he looked at you with a devious smile. One that usually signified trouble. “What are you plotting now, Jimin?” He smiled before bringing you closer and speaking at a more hushed tone. “Okay, we’re going to make him jealous and I’m going to prove my theory.” You shook your head rapidly.

“No, absolutely not, it won’t even work.” Jimin grabbed you by the shoulder, staring deeply into your soul. “This is your one and only chance at love you lonely child. You have to take it. If it works you owe me big time.” You cringed at his words. You’d never admit it but a part of you wanted to make him jealous, to throw a big ‘fuck you’ his way after what had happened. But you couldn’t, you didn’t want to hurt him no matter how much he’d hurt you. 

“No, but I do want one of those yellow drinks they’re so cute.” You pointed at a drink which a girl a couple seats away was drinking. ���That’s way too strong and I have a feeling your alcohol tolerance is absolutely horrible.” You glared at him for a bit before beckoning the bartender. “Could I get one of those please?” She nodded dutifully with a kind smile and you stuck your tongue out at the rather shocked Jimin. 

Your drink came with fruit and you were excited about how cute it looked. “Ugh, Y/N let’s go dance.” Jimin groaned while simultaneously trying to drag your body away from the bar. “But I just got this drink. Go ahead I’ll join you when I’m done.” That was a lie. You never dance and you didn’t feel like starting. You had been infatuated with your drink despite it tasting quite bitter, it wasn’t something you couldn’t grow to like and so you continued sipping it slowly. With all of your attention fixated with the drink, it would’ve been impossible to notice Jungkook’s curious eyes. 

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Coming Clean || Ariana & Athena

TIMING: Early morning October 31st PARTIES: @athenaquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: The morning after a promise to Lydia is fulfilled during a full moon, Ariana comes home to Athena and finds she’s able to tell her everything.  CONTENT: Mentions of domestic and emotional abuse

The morning after the full moon had been meant to be a tranquil time. After spending the night padding through the woods and feasting on forest creatures, there was something serene about the quiet the following morning. For a second month in a row, Ariana found it only left her with knots in her stomach and a rage she couldn’t quite shake. The events of the last night were still fresh in her mind and she could still remember the pained sound that came from Kaden as she bit into him. If it hadn’t been for Rio, she surely would have done more damage as Kaden has seemed almost stunted, unsure of what he was supposed to do if he wasn’t aiming to kill her and was just down to sacrifice himself for the sake of her and others. Her first instinct was to check in on him, but she wasn’t sure how she’d be received. Even if the thought made her frown, she moved anyway. Her clothes and phone had been long lost in the common so she’d made a small pit stop by Ulfric’s first, grabbing some of her spare clothes from the cabin, before making the trek home. She probably could have asked for a ride, but the walk would provide her with some clarity. 

More than ever, she wanted Lydia to pay. While losing Ace had set her over the edge, what she had been forced to do after had gone against everything Ariana had worked toward her whole life. She’d always been careful in great part due to Celeste and with a simple thank you Lydia had almost unraveled that completely. This time, she wouldn’t go in alone or without a better plan. The closer she got to the apartment, the more she was itching to tell Athena everything as she should have from the start. It had her practically flying up the stairs though she opened the door quietly in case she was still asleep. Not surprisingly, she saw her already awake and in the kitchen. “Hey,” she greeted softly, more for Athena though Luna was padding up to the door to get her greeting in as well. The events of last night still weighed heavily on her and she wasn’t sure how Athena would feel about her brother having gotten dragged into it all. 

Her mother wasn’t someone she had to worry about for this full moon, or any one ever again. The thought had made Athena feel parts both relieved and sick to her stomach. It meant she didn’t have as much to worry about during the full moon - except that her thoughts had drifted to Oscar - but it also meant that what she’d done not even fifteen days prior was still real. She hadn’t gone out, instead burying herself back into schoolwork, studying for exams. Because those were still a priority, still something she had to focus on. It was normal, and she needed to be normal. Even if nothing was normal, she had to fake it. Staying with Ariana was helpful, though. It made her feel much safer, and she’d come into a habit of how she spent her days when she wasn’t back at school or practice or doing something with her sorority. Not that she’d done much of that in these past couple of weeks. However, when she’d woken up that morning she had noticed that Ariana wasn’t there. 

It was the first full moon since she’d started to live with Ariana though, and so she told herself that this had to be routine. That Ariana was out in a forest somewhere, with deer carcasses or whatever it was werewolves did on the full moon. Athena had decided to make breakfast for both of them - waffles with fresh lemon curd. The lemon curd had been made an hour before and set aside as Athena busied herself with making the waffles. When she was halfway done she heard the door open and quickly flicked off the waffle-maker. “Hey,” she replied equally softly. “I made us breakfast. Unless - unless you’ve already eaten.” She bit her lip. “It is nice to see you. I mean - obviously, because this is your apartment, but still. Missed you when I woke up this morning, but I do not know your routine after nights like last, so I just went about mine. The waffles are almost done.”

There was something almost comforting about the familiar smell of waffles on a Saturday morning. It was a tradition she hadn’t been able to bring herself to continue after Celeste died and she hadn’t realized just how much she missed it before now. It felt dangerously close to something she could get used to. There was something so normal about all of it that reminded Ariana of just how badly last night had gone. The smell was enticing though and she leaned against the counter across from Athena. “It all smells great, I’ll definitely have a couple,” she said though it was difficult for her to mask the uneasiness she was feeling. She fidgeted with her hands and couldn’t quite look up to Athena. The mess she’d gotten herself into had led to her hurting someone she cared about and nearly hurting someone Athena cared about, but she needed to say it. They were honest with each other and she couldn’t bear the thought of keeping this from her. Of just living with this feeling bottled up inside her. She let out a deep breath and explained, “Last night wasn’t routine, something happened.” She knew she had to look up to Athena and elaborate on that. 

“I’m okay,” Ariana quickly threw in, “I’ll start with that-- I’m not hurt or anything. No one’s dead either.” Another good point to throw in before she really tried to explain. Could she explain? She was sure as hell going to try. Her hands wrapped around the edges of the counter top now to brace herself as she spoke. She looked to Athena earnestly, ready to tell her as much as the promise would allow. “I had to fulfill Lydia’s promise last night,” she started and the shock on her own face was apparent. She didn’t feel sick or pained when she spoke the words and the relief was almost enough to wash out the shame. Only almost, but it was better than nothing. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, “You heard that, right? Like I said those words out loud and didn’t just think them and I’m definitely still standing here not in pain, right?” 

“Good.” Athena sighed. Let out a breath that she certainly couldn’t have been holding just moments before. “Waffles do have a particularly excellent smell to them, I’d have to agree.” There was something in Ariana’s tone that gave her pause, though - for a moment - and Athena started to scan the other girl’s body, seeing if anything had changed from the night before. “It - what?” Did that mean something had happened? Athena squeezed her eyes shut and for a brief moment she could see her mother again. She could see the werewolf that she, Athena Quinn, had killed - had murdered on her eighteenth birthday and it wasn’t until Ariana was looking at her and stating that she was okay that Athena gulped in too much air again and had to hold her tongue firm against the roof of her mouth to keep from coughing. She watched Ariana’s hands grip the countertop, focused on those as the other girl kept talking. She heard the word promise before she processed that there had been a name before it and to that she nodded emphatically. “I did. You - Ariana. What happened?” She held back from asking all the questions she wanted to because too much could cause everything to crumble if she wasn’t careful.

She moved around the counter and reached out for Ariana’s hands, taking them in her own. “You are here. You are here and you are not in pain.” Athena gave another nod, shorter than before. “Can you tell me anything else? This is - the Leanan-Sidhe you told me about before. I’m presuming.” She dropped her friend’s hands and brushed a strand of hair from her face. If she could speak it, that didn’t mean this was over. If she could speak her promise - speak the woman’s name who she’d been so unable to before, then perhaps the promise had been fulfilled. “The waffles will stay warm. What do you need?” Her gaze turned to something halfway pleading. “Please tell me.”

The feeling of Athena’s hands around hers reminded her all of this was in fact real. This wasn’t some dream that Ariana could finally tell her all about Lydia as she had wanted to for the past month now. Her presence was a reminder that she didn’t have to face this alone and she nodded slowly. “Okay, good. I think I can tell you everything. I’ve wanted to tell you everything.” She valued their pact of honesty and she knew Athena would be able to help her with this. It was hard to pick what to tell her first when everything felt ready to spill out of her. Did she start from the beginning or with last night? Maybe the beginning, she knew the first mention of Rio would send Athena into a panic even though he was perfectly okay. Kaden was worse for wear, but she knew that wouldn’t be quite as upsetting for her even though it left her stomach in knots. “It is about the leanan-sidhe. Her name is Lydia Griffin, she’s been around for a while from what I could tell on reddit, but she’s got some serious serial killer vibes. This all started a while ago, I met one of the humans she kept in her basement one night in the woods. I called him Ace.” She could still remember what a bright spot he’d been that first night and how much they had joked back in forth. She squeezed one of Athena’s hands to put herself at ease.

“We started meeting in the woods at night every so often and I had always been suspicious something had been up because of how little he could tell me even when it was clear he wanted to say more. So I followed him home one night and discovered the tunnel leading to Lydia’s house,” Ariana explained, and in her memory, it all still felt so clear. If only her determination then had led her down a smarter path. She could feel her breathing getting more shallow as she knew she was getting to the more difficult part of this all. “I had snooped around and discovered it was Lydia’s house. We had a mutual friend and I knew she respected wolves so I… God, I know this was so stupid and should have realized it before, but I wanted so badly to help Ace without anyone else getting hurt.” Her voice choked up and she found herself looking down now. There was no way Athena would be happy she’d turned someone even if it wasn’t successful. “I turned him and she found out before he ever-- She shot him for betraying her. I stupidly confronted her and she used my previous thank you to her against me and.” She found her hands were shaking slightly now that they were no longer placed in Athena’s so she took a seat to keep herself steady. “God, you must think I’m so stupid. I feel so stupid.” 

“I’ve wanted you to tell me everything too,” Athena nodded, working to make her breath even. This was Ariana’s time, and that meant that she couldn’t overreact. She could be there for her, that much she knew. She was safe here. She was safe and she wanted to make certain that Ariana was safe, too. “Tell me as best as you can.” She nodded. She didn’t know what to think, she didn’t know what was going to be said. From what she knew, promises could be completely and utterly terrible. They often were, in her opinion, but she had a sinking suspicion that this might have been worse than others. “Lydia?” She sucked in her lower lip. “You said that. You - basement?” She shook her head. There was a great deal to be processing right now. Athena did her very best to focus in on all the details. Anything and everything would be important to remember. “Ace is a nice name.” She squeezed Ariana’s hand back. There was a certain pang in her chest, though she couldn’t quite place why.

“You were - are so brave, you know that?” Also reckless, but I cannot really speak to that, can I? She thought for a moment, focusing on Ariana again. Athena could practically feel her friend’s breaths get more shallow and she grit her teeth. She wanted to kill this fae for whatever it was she had done to Ariana - whatever she had done to Ariana’s friend. “You do wish for peace and good-will in all,” her expression was one of sorrow, though it was not born out of any sort of pity. “I think I remember back then, if I can focus enough on it.” I had turned him. She could feel her mouth go dry and she lost her focus for a moment, bile forming in the back of her throat. She could hear her mother’s words in her head - wolves will cause harm, they are so very unpredictable - but she pushed the thoughts out. Her mother was dead, she was gone and Ariana would never hurt anyone. Not intentionally, certainly. Deer didn’t count. She refocused her attention back on Ariana. “No.” She shook her head at Ariana’s next remark. “She - what did she make you do?” She squeezed her eyes shut. Caring too much could only get her into trouble. “Ariana, what happened? You - I do not, will not, and could not ever think you were stupid. You were manipulated.” Athena moved to where Ariana was sitting, letting her hand rest just close enough to hers - just in case she wanted it again. “What did she make you do?” I could kill her now. She remained by her side. She wouldn’t move, wouldn’t do anything unless Ariana asked, no matter how much it made her blood boil. 

“Yes, the basement,” Ariana answered with a bit of a shudder. Not that she knew much about leanan-sidhe feeding habits, but it seemed oddly twisted to keep people like that and refer to them as pets. The fact Ace had spent so much time living in what he referred to as a torture bunker still made her feel sick to her stomach. He’d deserved so much better and she had let him down even if he’d never see it that way. It was a thought process she could easily spiral into, but Athena kept her grounded from that. What she had to tell her was too important for her to get lost in blame and self-doubt now. She wanted to emphatically disagree that she wasn’t brave. That she’d been reckless and done everything so impossibly wrong, but she couldn’t bring herself to disagree. Even if she couldn’t see it in herself right now, it still meant the world to her that Athena could. “Thanks,” she said softly, “I don’t feel so brave right now, but I want to be.” In truth, she felt impossibly small despite her newfound freedom. Her carelessness had gotten too many people she cared for her and the thought that Athena could be one of those people only made her want to sink further into the chair she’d sat in. 

“You don’t,” she asked as she finally looked up from her lap again with hopeful eyes. Ariana found she was being met with more understanding than she could have ever hoped for. It was just the amount of encouragement she needed to push through and finish explaining what happened. She took in a deep breath and tried to relax her body. This part was going to be difficult and she wanted to explain it properly. “I confronted her after what she did to Ace. It got pretty heated and she made me thank her by starting the full moon out in The Common,” she had to pause and catch her breath again. While it could have been so much worse had Kaden not figured her cryptic texts out, she’d still dug tooth and claw into him without much of a thought. If it hadn’t been for Rio, she surely would have killed him. She found herself squeezing her hands into fists and had to consciously make an effort to relax them. “There was some sort of Halloween party going on. There were so many people and kids and I,” she felt her voice cracking, but made herself continue before she worried Athena too much more, “I had to do something. I sent some very loosely coded texts to Kaden because well… Sasha was there. I couldn’t-- Even if he had to hurt me to make sure others were safe, it seemed like the only option and he’s used to dealing with wolves.” 

Ariana felt the tears pricking at her eyes and didn’t have the energy in her to stop them from falling. She didn’t need to be strong right now, not for Athena. So she let them fall freely. “I should-- The only person seriously hurt is Kaden. I feel like I should tell you that first. Rio happened to be there and insisted on helping. If it wasn’t for Rio I think I may have… I think I would have killed my friend. There’s a reason why I go so deep into the forest for the moon. I don’t-- I didn’t.” She couldn’t say anything anymore. Both her voice and body were shaking now. How was she supposed to look at herself knowing she’d hurt someone? Someone she cared for at that. How could she expect Athena to see her as anything but a monster when she would have so easily killed a friend? When it could have been her brother had he not had a plan? She found herself unable to look back up and meet the potentially scrutinizing gaze. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t have deserved it. She’d gotten herself into this mess and it nearly cost so many their lives. 

She couldn’t fight away the look of disgust that crossed her face then. Leanan-Sidhe were some of the worst of fae to begin with, but this was a whole other level of horrifying. They were terrible and cruel even when they did not belong to the sects that kept people hostage. Athena wanted to be sick, but she knew that she had to focus back onto Ariana. Because if she didn’t focus then she wasn’t entirely certain what she would do. “No - hey, hey,” she shook her head. “You can be brave. You are brave.” She meant it, too. Just as she always had, with the two of them. With their honesty agreement seemingly born out of nowhere, one that had been unspoken before it had been affirmed, and one that felt entirely and completely natural.

“I don’t.” She affirmed. She didn’t want to listen to what Ariana was going to say. It was much more appealing to simply bury her head in her hands, in a pillow, anywhere but anything that actually involved listening. Except she had to. She was better than how she’d been raised - she could listen. Athena nodded slowly. Pushed any other thoughts out of her mind, tuning out the buzzing sound that she could hear fainting, somewhere. The heat, probably. Most apartments did that. Ariana’s did, she thought. “She - what?” Athena shook her head emphatically. No. She could see her eighteenth birthday again, the wolf dead on the ground. She could hear her mother’s voice as she trained, as they hunted together when her brother refused. The clean sound of a knife cutting through fur. Her mother was no longer anything to worry about, other than the near-constant voice that still plagued her in her head, but hunters like Oscar were, and she hoped and prayed and found her cross necklace, pressing it against her fingertips for too long before she could finish registering everything that Ariana was saying to her. “There were - people - Sasha?” She took in a deep breath, refocused. Now was not the time to check out, to lose focus and retreat back into herself. “She loves Halloween.” Kaden. “He is.” She pressed her hands against her thighs.

The next word that she processed was Rio and she felt her body give out, and had she not been stable, Athena was positive that she would have fallen over. Just as at the carnival, she could see his body, dead on the floor. Even if it had all been an illusion then and even if it was just her mind playing cruel tricks on her now. Her brother was okay. Her brother had helped, because that was what he did, in his own bizarre way. She’d come to realize that more and more in recent days, how he could take charge when nobody else could. “I’m glad he was there.” She shook her head. “I mean, no. I hate that he was there, but I am glad - he helped you.” She looked at Ariana, her gaze soft and uncharacteristically forgiving. Her hands found Ariana’s again and she held onto them tightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Werewolves are monsters. “You were manipulated.” They’ll do anything to cause harm. “This is not your fault.” She pushed her mother’s words out of her head, once again. They didn’t hold any truth, at least not for the girl in front of her. Even if she couldn’t get her parents’ voices out of her head. “This is all because of Lydia.” The bite in her voice was back as her thumbs massaged the backs of Ariana’s hands. “Because she is cruel and…” she adjusted her posture. “She wants nothing more than suffering.” Another deep breath followed as she looked at Ariana, not daring to let go of her. She could be stable and sturdy and strong, just as her friend had been for her not even two weeks ago. “Tell me what you want me to do.” I’ll do anything you ask.

It dawned on Ariana that Athena was probably right. She felt small right now after her free will had been all but ripped from her, but she faced it bravely. She’d told Kaden it was okay if she didn’t make it out of the Common alive and she’d meant it. She’d been willing to give herself up for the safety of others. It was the reminder she’d needed to push forward through all of this and fight back with a vengeance. If she had anything to say about it, Lydia was never going to be able to hurt anyone the way she’d hurt her again. She knew with Athena by her side, there was no way Lydia would get away with any of this again. There was still the small pang of what happened to Kaden lingering in her chest. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hold it against her too harshly. It hadn’t been entirely intentional, but she’d grown to care about Kaden, and the fact she’d hurt him when he’d been so unwilling to hurt still sat heavily on her conscience. 

She could tell that this was a lot for Athena to take in and she could understand as much. It had been a lot for Ariana to go through and it still felt so unreal. Even as she stood there, panic setting in, it felt like some sort of bad dream until it wasn’t. Until she’d been so close to killing someone she cared for dearly. She found herself slouching in her seat unable to quite watch as she processed. Did she think she was some sort of monster now? As much as she cared for Athena, she knew it went against everything she was ever taught to believe in return those sentiments, but she was still here as opposed to anywhere else. That had to mean something, right? “I know, it’s-- that was an incredibly cruel thing of her to do and it could have cost people their lives had I not happened to be friends with a werewolf hunter. Which is still… I feel terrible about. He wouldn’t hurt me, he just let me-” Her voice caught in her throat as the memory replayed in her head. It all felt like too much, even as she said it. Instead of focusing on the part that would surely make her sick, she added, “Sasha is okay as far as I know. I didn’t get anywhere near her after I-- I do remember everything. The only person I hurt was Kaden.” Arguably better than Sasha, but still enough to make her stomach do more flips than the US Gymnastics team. Then she could see the worry in Athena’s eyes as she’d mentioned Rio. She always worried about Rio and here she was giving her yet another reason, too. “I’m sorry he was in a dangerous situation. He-- I think you’d be proud. I’m not sure what he did, but it was smart and threw me off their trail. Also, he got one hell of a punch in. I found myself running towards the woods and away from town though I can’t place why.” 

As she listened, Ariana could feel the fire growing in her again. What she was forced to do went against everything she believed in. The anger that had been buried under the shame was rising as Athena’s words validated her and she knew what she wanted. Maybe she shouldn’t want it, but she had no doubt the world would be better off without an actual serial killer of a fae in it. “I want to make sure she never does this to anyone ever again,” she said surely. She took hold of Athena’s hand with more certainty this time. “She’s hurt too many people. She could have hurt so many more if I hadn’t gotten help.” She squeezed Athena’s hand and went over everything in her head. They couldn’t rush into this. That had been the nearly fatal mistake she’d made before. “But we have to be smart about this. She’s never alone, she has people there protecting her and I’m sure she has more humans in her basement that will need to be saved, too. I don’t want you going into this alone. We’re going to come up with a plan that gets both of us and others out of this safely.” 

Before Ariana had come along, the only person who Athena had properly cared for was her brother. Certainly, she cared to a certain degree about friends like Amanda and others who she spent time with, but exerting actual, proper care was not something she had been taught to do. It was impractical, her parents would have said. Because attachments were not something that was beneficial in a fight. Yet from the start, she should have expected for everything to be unexpected with Ariana, even back before either of them had known what the other actually was. Which was, perhaps, why it was natural. Which was, perhaps, why Ariana’s anxiety was practically palpable and Athena found herself once again grateful that she was neither an empath nor an aura reader.

For a moment, she pressed one of her feet on top of the other, one of the multiple focus behaviors she had developed over the years. One that one of the school counselors had given her during that brief period when one of her teachers had been concerned about attention difficulties. It wasn’t Athena’s fault that the school janitor had been fae. Right now her job was to focus on Ariana, even if every fiber in her being that still held onto her parents’ teachings was screaming at her not to. Yet her gaze was unflinching, steady, and honest. “You told me about the werewolf hunter before.” She could feel herself bristling for a moment, even if Ariana insisted that they'd never hurt her. “I am glad Sasha is okay. She - well, did she…” see you before you transformed? “I’m sure she’ll forget whatever she saw. I’ll stop by her house sometime soon, because I used to take her trick-or-treating and so I can just say that I owe her some candy. I’ll check in.” She pressed her lips together firmly. “Will Kaden be okay? If he - he’s got that accelerating healing thing going for him, so he’ll be fine.” Right now Athena was more focused on Ariana and on whatever had happened to her brother, too. Everything else was secondary, no matter how severe it was. “I’m sorry you were both in a dangerous situation. It’s all because of - My brother punched you?” Athena raised an eyebrow, Ariana’s words finally catching up with her. Maybe time away from their parents had been good for him. “As much as it pains me to admit it, he can be really smart. Clever, or whatever. I mean, so am I, but have I ever told you how long he used to take when we played chess as kids? Way too long. It was a pain.” She knew it was a bit too forced to truly lighten the mood, but she had to at least try, didn’t she? Had to try so she didn’t spiral. The room already felt like it was spinning a bit too much as it were. “Maybe you can ask my brother, sometime? Not now, obviously, but maybe sometime. See if he can put together the pieces that you cannot.”

“I want to make sure of that too.” Ariana’s hand in hers felt confident in a way unlike what she’d experienced so far in the conversation. Athena’s eyes narrowed, though it was clear that any anger or frustration was reserved for Lydia and Lydia only. Gentleness and good-will was all that she wished for for the girl in front of her. “She still might hurt more even with the help you do have.” She bit down on her tongue just hard enough for it to start to go numb. She squeezed Ariana’s hand back, thumbs continuing to massage the skin, as if that could do something to rectify everything that had gone too terribly wrong. She should have pushed before, should have insisted that Ariana tell her everything. Now she had to live with the fallout of it all. ”I’m not…” she began. “Fine.” I would have gone into it alone. I do not care, so long as she is done with and you are safe. “She would have guards or something, especially if she’s been at this for such a long time, if she’s been able to get away with this.” She steadied her posture. “I will wait to go after her, but I will go after her. That much is unavoidable at this point. She has done too much harm.” She dropped one hand and ran her hand over Ariana’s hair. “Lucky for you, I’m a master strategist in all sorts of ways. What else can you tell me?”

In the midst of everything, the last thing Ariana had been worried about was who else saw her. It was Halloween, she couldn’t have stuck out all that much to those who weren’t in the know though it dawned on her the danger it could still pose. She shifted uncomfortably even though she was sure Sasha and her family had been far away by the time she’d been left with no other choice but to transform. It suddenly hit her just how far from over this really was and there was no stopping the way her heart hammered away inside her chest, threatening to burst through at any moment if anatomy allowed for it. Who else might have seen her? Surely, Kaden and Rio had to be the hunters there as no one else tried to run interference. “I don’t think she saw me change. I’d seen her pretty early on before she went to some haunted house. She was dressed like Wonder Woman,” she said though her voice was unsteady. “I don’t know who else might have seen though.” Her throat felt tight as she spoke and she had to remind herself to breathe properly. 

The question of whether he’d be okay didn’t do much to calm her. Ariana was pretty sure he’d been fine and had been hurt worse plenty of times before, but never at her hands. It was a weird memory to have floating in her head, tearing into him the way she did. The whole thing felt out of place and it only furthered the rage she felt toward Lydia. “He’ll be okay,” she started before letting out a sigh, “I just feel terrible. I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially not Kaden. How am I supposed to-” She needed to check on him, do something for him. What could she possibly even do to make up for what she’d done to him? Could he really understand? She had to believe he would. Anything else hurt entirely too much to even think of. “I need to check on him.” She knew she owed Rio a thank you as well. Thing would have gone terribly worse if he hadn’t been there. His friendship was something she’d always been grateful for, but she never expected this. “You’re both smart,” she said calmly as she began letting go of some of the tension that had been pooling up in her. “I could see him taking his time with that. Who usually won?” It was something pleasant to focus on that would help keep her grounded though she knew Athena was right. “I will, I’m sure he’s probably worried, too.” 

It came to no surprise to Ariana that Athena was essentially ready to handle this on her own. While she’d never seen her in action, knowing Athena she was probably just as much of a perfectionist when it came to hunting. Still, Lydia was too dangerous and she was never alone. If anything happened to Athena, Ariana wasn’t sure what she’d do. “I know more people getting hurt is likely a part of this, but I want to minimize that. She’s done too much already.” She looked up to Athena earnestly and said, “I know you could probably handle this, but I can’t risk that, okay? I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” Especially if it was also because of her. Lydia would find the way to twist the blame around on her again when it was becoming evidently clear she was to blame for all of this. She could feel her fists clenching up and everything in her wanted to fight, but that got her all of nowhere last time. She’d be smart this time and she wouldn’t go in alone. She focused on the feeling of Athena’s hand on hers and let it bring her back down the metaphorical ledge she was standing on. “I guess I’m pretty lucky I have you then. She’s not going to get away with this. I’ve told you everything I know about her, at least officially. I’m sure we can do a little more snooping to find out more.” 

With everything off her chest, Ariana found the whole situation felt a little more manageable. There were still bridges to mend and secrets to discover, but she had no doubt in her that Lydia would be stopped. Her gaze fell on Athena again and she quietly said, “Thank you. For this. For everything. I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

[atths--twice]

And now it’s time for their only visitor to see how they are doing and meet the baby. 

The Ninth Month 6h/6

Chapter Eight 

The Visitor

Scully gets an unexpected but most welcomed visitor.

October 31st- late afternoon

Scully was feeling a smidge more like an actual human. She had a shower and changed her gown again. She still ached and felt like a freight train had crashed into her lower half, but she was cleaner than she had been a couple of hours ago.

Faith had also had a bath. The day nurse, an older woman named Jill, had brought in a basin and helped them give her her first bath. Mulder had really been in charge of helping and Scully had taken some pictures with his phone. He had been so nervous and adorable, ill had already fallen in love with him, therefore he could do no wrong in her eyes.

He put Faith’s diaper on and put on a little onesie, extra careful and asking all kinds of questions. Jill had smiled and answered them all. She showed him how to swaddle the baby once she was dressed, then let him try on his own. When he got it right, he had grinned at Scully. She got another picture before Jill had helped her into the bathroom for her shower.

When she came out, Mulder was sitting on the couch with Faith. Her head resting on his chest, his hands resting on her head and her bottom, holding her securely. She could see his fingers slowly rubbing across her back, his eyes closed.

When he heard her shuffling around, he opened his eyes and smiled at her, his eyes so full of love. She got back in bed and laid down again, Jill making sure she was okay. Mulder got up and brought her the baby. He said he was going to go down to the cafeteria and get some coffee and a snack and he would be back in a few minutes. She nodded and he left the room.

She sat staring at the baby as she held her in her arms, marveling at the intricacy of her features. Her perfect eyebrows, her lips, the softness of her skin, the dark hair that seemed to have the smallest hint of red. She was perfect and so beautiful.

She moved in her sleep and her eyebrows went up, her face scrunched, and she wiggled her tiny body, before settling down again. Scully felt such happiness within her, it was like a drug coursing through her system. It had been worth it. All the pain and the worry, for this moment, and this person she was holding. She was so in love with her already.

The hospital room door opened slowly and she thought Mulder was back already. A pink balloon came through the door, then a shiny pink Mylar one saying “It’s a girl!,” and finally the person attached to the end of the strings. Skinner. Mulder must have called him.

She smiled at him and at the way he visibly relaxed, when he saw she was awake. He put the balloons in the chair by the bed and walked over to her.

He bent and kissed her cheek as he looked at the baby. Putting his hand on Scully’s shoulder, he lightly touched the baby’s head with the other. Scully watched him touch her, unable to tear her eyes away from the baby’s face.

“She’s perfect, Dana,” Skinner said in a whisper and Scully smiled. He stroked her small head and then stood up and back from the bed. Scully looked up at him and smiled.

“Would you like to hold her?” she asked him quietly.

She saw his moment of panic, but she nodded encouragingly at him as she started to shift around and move the baby. She waited until he put his hands out and then she passed her over. He cradled her head and pulled her in close. She smiled at the sight of him holding her second child. Skinner, the big tough man, losing his cool exterior when a baby was placed in his arms.

He kept his eyes on the baby before glancing at her with a smile. He moved the balloons and sat down on the edge of the chair. Scully moved around a little, seething when pain shot through her lower half.

Skinner looked over at her and she shook her head. She raised the head of the bed up a little to a more comfortable position. She smiled watching Skinner look at the baby. He smiled softly as he did, unaware that she was staring at him.

Tears filled her eyes at the beauty of the moment. The sweet way he held and murmured to her. He smiled at her and then looked back at Scully.

They smiled at each other and he sat back in the chair. He looked at the baby again and sighed.

“She is truly beautiful. I don’t know if this will sound good or bad, considering she’s a girl, but she looks a lot like Mulder,” Skinner said as he watched her sleep. Scully laughed and Skinner looked at her with a smile.

“Since I have always enjoyed looking at Mulder, I’ll take that as good news,” she said, still chuckling. Skinner nodded and smiled. He looked down at the baby again and then shook his head, rocking her a little.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“Faith,” Scully said, watching his reaction to the name. “Faith Katherine Mulder.”

Skinner froze his small movements and looked at Scully. She saw that he understood the meaning behind the name, without her needing to say anything. He stared at her, his gaze falling to her necklace, then back to her face. He nodded and smiled, looking back at the baby and she closed her eyes.

Other hospital visits flashed through her memory. Her cancer, Mulder’s journey back from the dead, Mulder’s mother taken ill, both of them wounded countless times in duty. Skinner had made an appearance at nearly all of them.

The memory presenting itself most, was him arriving to tell her Mulder had disappeared. The way his voice had broken had broken her heart as well.

She had news of her own that day. He was the first and only person who knew her secret for awhile. It was fitting he was their first visitor and the first to hold the baby besides the two of them.

She heard him sniff and she opened her eyes. He was watching the baby, but she heard another sniff. He tried to keep his face hidden, but she saw a tear. Leave it to a small bundle of happiness to bring the strong men she knew in her life to tears. Barely one day old and she already held so much power.

“That’s a fine name. Fitting. It’s a good choice,” he said, keeping his eyes on the baby. “Hello, Faith. It’s nice to meet you.”

Scully’s eyes filled and spilled over hearing him speak to her and continue his murmurings to her. Faith woke up and stared at him. Her big blue eyes seemingly taking him in.

“Wow,” he said, looking over at Scully as she wiped at her eyes. He smiled slightly. “She definitely has your eyes. Mulder is in serious trouble.”

She laughed out a sob and Skinner smiled. He stood up and brought her back to Scully. Placing Faith in her arms, he stood up again. He watched her situate the baby better before he cleared his throat. Scully looked up at him and he stepped back from the bed. He started to pace around the room, not looking at her, his hands in his pockets.

“When I was younger, my dad was a tough man. He was older when I was born, in his late forties. He was hard to get to know and he kept us all at a distance. I had two younger brothers and we all were brought up to be tough, to fight for what we wanted, stand up for ourselves,” he said as he paced. Scully watched him unsure where this was headed.

“My father did not tolerate lying, cheating, or any type of behavior that would cast himself or his sons in a bad light. He wanted us to have strong moral character." He stopped pacing and seemed to be in thought. Scully waited, saying nothing.

“When I left for Vietnam, he told me he was proud of me for my decision, to fight for my country. After I had almost died, and I came home, it was the only time my father hugged me as an adult. Honestly, probably the only time ever, that I can remember anyway. It meant more than I ever expressed to him. I was an adult by age, had fought for my country, but I was still like a child, craving the approval of my father." He paused again and then shook his head.

“After I was married and began working at the bureau, I didn’t see my father much. Phone calls, some holidays, but not much. He died in 1990 and I went home for his funeral. My mother had passed a year before from a stroke. My brothers and I spent a week getting the house ready to sell. None of us had overly fond memories of it and we all had our own lives we were living. Dealing with a house was not something we wanted. On the second to last day, when most everything else was done, we went down into the basement, where my father had spent most of his time. It was a finished room we had played in as kids. We each took a corner and started cleaning out the junk. My brother called us over to where he had been cleaning, by my father’s desk. He had found a box of letters. Letters addressed to each of us that my father never sent. We sat down, each with our letters and began to read the words he wrote, but could never say. There were letters going back years, and his words were beautiful. We sat there, the three men he raised to be tough and strong, crying over words we never heard, but could read and see plain as day. I was thirty eight years old when I learned for the first time that my father loved me." He paused and looked at Scully.

She had tears running down her face. Faith had fallen back to sleep and Scully held her as she cried for the man who was almost like a father to her. To not know love the way she had from her own father, it broke her heart.

She cried for both Mulder and Skinner. Two men who had yearned for their father’s approval and love. Neither had received exactly what they needed, but they had become good men. Honest, hardworking, moral, trustworthy, kind men.

“I know that you and Mulder will do better than my parents did and that is a comfort to me. She will not wonder if you love her, if she has fallen short in any regard, or what she can do to gain your trust and care. She will know it when she looks at you, feels your hand upon her back, lays her head on your chest, or when the day comes and she slams her door in anger but then seeks you out and all is forgiven,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “She will know, Dana, because she will see how you and Mulder care for each other and your love will be her example.”

Scully was openly weeping. She dropped her head and looked at the baby in her arms. The one she loved before she was born and would now die for without question. She would know she was loved and lived in a loving household. She would hear it every day and know it by the actions she would see.

Skinner walked close to the bed and waited, handing her a tissue to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. She sniffed and blew her nose once more.

Skinner placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. She took a deep breath and looked up at him, giving him a small smile.

“Thank you for telling me about your family. And you’re right, she will know she is loved. She will know how we love her and each other,” Scully said, stroking Faith's cheek.

Skinner cleared his throat again and asked if he could put the baby in her small bed. She was curious as to why, but she agreed. She handed her over to him and he put her down gently. He turned back toward Scully and reached in his inside jacket pocket. He took something out and held it in his hand before he looked at her.

“When my mother died, after the funeral, my father went down into his basement. He didn’t stay upstairs with the other mourners. He didn’t really speak to any of us, just stayed downstairs. To some, it may have seemed he didn’t care or was not grieving “properly.” I knew my father. He was grieving, but in his own way. When we were packing up the house, we found a card from my mother to my father. She told him how much she loved him and that she was thankful for spending her life with him. This was inside the envelope." He handed Scully what he had in his hand.

It was a small cloth bag with a drawstring. She untied the bag, opened it, and dumped the contents into her hand. On a silver chain was a blue stone that shone brightly in the light. Scully looked at it and then at Skinner.

“My mother’s birthday was in October, that was her birthstone, and the only piece of jewelry she wore besides her wedding ring. I don’t remember ever seeing her without it my entire life. My father bought it for her a year after they were married and she said on many occasions that aside from her children, it was her favorite thing in the world. After she died, my father must have kept it. A way to hold onto a piece of her,” Skinner said quietly.

He smiled at Scully as she cried looking again at the necklace. It was beautiful, but she could not accept something so personal and important to Skinner. She looked at him and started to try to hand the necklace back to him. He stopped her hand and held it in both of his own. He smiled again.

“I said that the name Faith was fitting. Not just because of what it means to you and to Mulder, but because of a memory I recalled when you told me her name. A memory about the necklace,” Skinner said letting go of her hand.

“She lost it once, my mother. The chain broke and she didn’t feel it slip from her neck. She cried when she noticed it was gone. No way to know where it was or when it had fallen off of her. A week it was gone. She said repeatedly she knew she would find it. She had faith that she would. My brothers and I were playing in the backyard, when I noticed something shining in the grass. It was her necklace. It must have fallen when she was hanging laundry on the clothesline outside. I brought it in to her and she cried as she held it in her hands, before she hugged me. She said she never lost faith and her necklace had been found." Skinner smiled at her and pointed to the necklace. “I don’t have, nor plan to have children of my own. When I found out you were having another baby, I planned on giving that to you. But now that I know she’s a girl, and I’ve heard her name, knowing what it means to you and Mulder, I know my mother would want Faith to have her necklace.”

Scully cried as he finished speaking. She leaned toward him and raised her arms out to him. He leaned in and held her for a minute.

“Thank you, Skinner- Walter. This necklace is a beautiful gift and the story behind it was lovely. You are right, it is fitting. I will keep it safe for her until she’s older,” she said as she grasped his hand. She looked at the necklace again. The blue of the stone was beautiful. She gently put it back in the bag. “Could you please put this in the backpack over there?

The baby gave a short cry as she handed him the necklace bag. “And then, would you mind handing me my girl? She needs to eat, and she tends to get crabby if she doesn’t get what she wants when she asks for it. She’s like her mama in that regard.”

They both laughed and he did as she asked. He scooped the baby up and handed her to Scully. He kissed her cheek again and said he would see her soon, to get some rest, and take care of that girl. He touched the baby’s head again and headed toward the door.

“Dana,” he said, his hand on the door handle. “She truly is a miracle and you chose a good name.”

She smiled at him. He opened the door and left. She kept her eyes on the door until the baby began to cry. Scully pulled her gown aside and brought the baby to her breast. She latched on and begin to nurse.

She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of the baby nursing. Gaining what she needed to thrive.

She finished nursing her and laid her on her shoulder to gently burp her. She leaned the bed back and held the baby to her chest. She rubbed her hand up and down her tiny back.

Sleep was pulling at her as she sat with the baby. The past day catching up to her. She turned on her side, adjusting her gown. She laid the baby on the bed, cradling her in her arms. She closed her eyes and kissed her little head.

“Faith,” Scully whispered. “You are a miracle, little one, and you are so loved. So very loved.” She took a deep breath and fell asleep.

That was how Mulder found them fifteen minutes later. He looked at the balloons, wondering who had been there. He did not dwell on it too long, his gaze landing on the two people in the bed. The two women in his life who meant the world to him. He kissed both of them on the head, pulled up the chair, and sat down.

He watched them sleep before he felt his own eyes growing heavy. He leaned his head back on the seat, closed his eyes, crossed his arms, and was asleep within minutes.

Jill walked in to check on them. She stopped and smiled at the sight of them all asleep. She took out her cell phone and took a picture, slowly backed out of the room, and closed the door behind her. They needed their rest. It had been a long day for everyone in the room.

She looked at the picture of them as she walked away and she smiled. This was one of her favorite parts of her job, snapping the “first picture,” the real one, not a posing and smiling one. The one that showed the truth about birth- the exhaustion, happiness, and love.

She sent the photo to the printer and waited for it to print. She liked to slip in the picture with the file, so it was there with their discharge papers. She looked at it again when it had printed. She smiled as she walked to the nurses station. She found their file and added it to it, putting it back and heading off to the next patient, her phone ready to capture the love she knew she would always find.  

________________________________________________

Ahh, Skinner. I love our FBI dad so much. He’s such a good guy, and he loves our favorite agents. He will be a great “Uncle Walter” for the baby. : )

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Flashbacks & Forewarnings

A JSE Fanfic

There are a lot of different scenes in this one, but don’t worry, it’s not too long. About medium length for my fics, I’d say. First of all, we get a peek into one of JJ’s memories. Then we check in on Dr. Laurens and Schneep, see how they’re doing since it’s been a while. And there’s some minor other stuff as well. I know it seems like it’s a day late, but that’s because I’m moving my fic-posting day to Monday. Hope you guys like this one!

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Midafternoon sunlight was streaming through the window. Jameson leaned over to look out the window, glancing downward at the street a few stories below. Then he took his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. Almost four o’clock already? It was almost time to leave. JJ began tidying up, starting the process of going home and getting things ready for the next person to man the desk.

“Hmm? Oh, are you leaving, Mr. Jackson?” Claire, the intern, noticed his cleaning up. 

JJ nodded. He paused for a moment, grabbing his notebook and pen from the surface of the desk nearby. Do you know who’s on the next shift?

Claire paused for a moment to read the question; though she was trying to learn BSL, she wasn’t able to hold a conversation yet. “Uhh...I think it’s Mr. Haddock,” she said.

That was what he suspected. Do you think you can handle things until he arrives? JJ asked. He didn’t want to put too much pressure on Claire—she was only sixteen, after all.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said. “Uhh...I just have to monitor the phone, right?”

JJ nodded again. Accepting phone calls was the highest priority part of the job, and also the only thing he couldn’t do. Sending emails, making sure things were filed correctly, getting things from the supply room, all that was alright. But not the phone, for obvious reasons. Luckily, answering phone calls usually fell to the interns. Don’t be afraid to ask Mr. Patterson for help. It should only be ten minutes or so until Timothy arrives, but just to be sure.

“Thanks, Mr. Jackson. Oh! Uh, wait.” Claire made a simple gesture. Thank you.

JJ smiled encouragingly. You’re picking that up quick!

“Really?” Claire brightened up. “Thanks!” She repeated the sign.

JJ stood up, gathering his stuff. I’ll see you tomorrow, he signed, edging around the desk and heading towards the elevator.

“See you.”

Now heading on his way down, Jameson checked his bag, pulling out his phone. Huh...it seemed he had quite a few texts from Chase. He scrolled through the notifications, ending up at the first one, which read: Hey J, remember that thing the detectives called me about ths morning? About Jackie? The second one read: Did you get my last text? The third one read: JJ i really have to talk to you about this. Should i call Marv first? And so on with increasing urgency.

Reading through the messages, Jameson could feel his pulse rising, tense. He’d almost forgotten about the events of that morning. A long day at work was bound to do that. The question had always sort of been lingering in his mind, though. They’d found some sort of break in Jackie’s case. That had to be a good thing, right? A pessimistic part of him pointed out that a “break in the case” didn’t always mean they’d found the missing person. Sometimes it meant they’d found the missing person’s body—

Jameson stepped out of the elevator, forcibly leaving that thought behind. It wasn’t the case this time. It couldn’t be. Even though he hadn’t known Jackie as long as Chase or Marvin had, he still knew him. And he knew he wasn’t the type to go down easily. Quickly, he opened up his texts and started replying to Chase. Sorry I didn’t see any of this, I was at work :( Just got off the lift now. What happened?

Chase didn’t respond for a minute or so, long enough for JJ to walk out of the building and into the crisp October air. But his reply came soon. Oh I forgot about that! Im so sorry.

No no, it’s not your fault. But do tell what happened. What did the detectives say?

The little typing bubble stayed up for a long time. JJ had arrived at the close-by bus stop by the time Chase finally said what he was planning. Uh...actually, can i call you about this? I know you cant answer, and you can say no, i just think itll be easier to say instead of type.

That...wasn’t a good sign. Sure? Jameson typed slowly. I can whistle or something if you need a response.

Immediately, his phone started ringing. JJ almost instinctively declined the call, but caught himself just in time and picked it up. Chase’s voice came through easily from the other side. “JJ? You there, bro?” JJ whistled a yes. “Okay good. Okay. Uhh...this is weird, not being able to see you. But anyway. The thing this morning. The good news is that Schneep’s first doctor showed up! So now he’s gonna have one that doesn’t hate him.” Chase laughed, a bit nervously. “But, uh, I dunno if she’ll go back right away. Because, uh...that’s the bad news. She disappeared because she got kidnapped. By the same person who kidnapped Jackie. And kidnapped Schneep before that. And...” Chase sighed. “You were right. The person who did that is this Anti.” He paused. “Are...are you still there?”

Jameson took a moment to react. And when he did, he hung up. So...it was him.

God, what were the odds? What were the goddamn odds that the two of them would end up in the same place once again?! True, this city wasn’t too far away from the town they lived in before. But he’d always thought Aneirin was the type to stay in a town like that.

Well, at least he didn’t know Jameson was here...

——————

Jameson set down his book, checking the clock. It was a little past eight at night. Naturally, his eyes drifted over to the calendar afterwards. It was a month behind, still reading June 2007.

The front door slammed open downstairs. JJ jumped, then slid a bookmark into the pages of his novel and stood up, heading out the door and down the stairs.

“Hey, Jamie.” Aneirin smiled at him as he came downstairs. “Picked up dinner real quick. Sorry for being late.” He set a bag of McDonald’s down on the nearby coffee table and sighed, reaching upward to make sure his eye-patch was in place.

It’s fine, JJ signed. You’ve been busy lately.

“Yeah, uh...speaking of which.” Aneirin cleared his throat. “I have to go out again later tonight.”

JJ slumped a bit. You sure?

“Yeah...work shit, you know how it is.” Aneirin shook his head. “But hey, I mean, without my work, we wouldn’t have a house, so I’ll take it.”

That was true. Though...Jameson still wasn’t sure what exactly Aneirin did for work. It had odd hours, and Aneirin was hesitant to talk about it, in a way that JJ had initially shrugged off, but was now starting to seem a bit odd. He’d been living with him for a year now, wasn’t it weird that he didn’t know what his brother did? Alright, JJ signed hesitantly. But you owe me.

Aneirin smiled. “I’ll buy you another book.”

I have a lot of books, Aneirin. I haven’t even read them all.

“Something else, then. Whatever you want. Within reason, of course.” Chuckling, Aneirin headed through the doorway into the kitchen. Inside, JJ heard the sound of the coffeemaker—a new addition—starting up.

Frowning, Jameson poked his head into the kitchen doorway. He knocked on the wood, but Aneirin didsn’t turn around, focused on the coffeemaker. “Aan...?” JJ called.

“Hmm?” Aneirin looked over at him.

You aren’t supposed to be holding hot things.

“Jesus christ, I’m not a baby, Jamie.”

Just...remember what happened last time? Jameson pointed out at him. You burned yourself. I’m just worried.

“Yes, but now I know what not to do.” Aneirin shrugged, and turned around. “Besides, the mug will stay on the counter most of the time. So no need to overreact.”

JJ frowned, but left anyway, heading back upstairs to grab his book. He’d move downstairs to finish it, just in case Aneirin ended up needing help.

A couple hours passed. If the past was any indicator, Aneirin would be leaving around this time. JJ made a big show of yawning, and glancing over to the couch where Aneirin was sitting, eyes fixed to the TV but not really paying any attention to the show that was on. Standing up and grabbing his book, JJ signed, I think I’ll go to bed now.

Aneirin responded, “Alright.” without looking away from the screen. Go to bed was one of the sign phrases he could understand even out of the corner of his eyes.

JJ headed up the stairs, slowing down once he reached the second story. He walked over to his room, opening the door and closing it without going inside, instead just waiting in the hall. Immediately, he heard the television downstairs turn off. Footsteps crossed the living room and headed outside. The front door opened and shut. Jameson put his book on the floor next to his room and carefully crept down the stairs, sticking near the walls to avoid the creaks. He made a slight detour to grab his cell phone from the kitchen drawer where it was kept. Then once back in the living room, he crouched close to the ground and crawled over to the front window, peeking outside.

In the driveway, Aneirin was checking something in the trunk of his car. Well, technically, Aneirin always called it “our car,” but he was the only one who drove it. JJ didn’t know how to drive yet. And even if he did, he didn’t have a job and it was the middle of summer vacation, so where would he even need to go? Or at least, those were some of the reasons Aneirin listed when explaining why he wouldn’t teach Jameson how to drive. JJ watched as Aneirin closed the car trunk, and started walking down the block, as he always did when he went out working late at night.

After making sure Aneirin was far enough away, JJ rushed out the front door and over to the car. He opened the door to the back seat and climbed inside, squeezing into the space between the seats where you would normally put your feet. They kept a spare blanket in the car, and Jameson reached over and tried to cover himself, attempting to make it look like the blanket was naturally falling off the seat. Then he waited.

Just a few minutes later, the driver’s side door opened, and he heard Aneirin get inside. The car soon started, and headed out, with Aneirin having no idea Jameson was in the back seat.

He was tired of not knowing anything about where Aneirin went. And if he wouldn’t tell him, JJ would find out by himself.

They drove for a surprisingly long time, long enough for Jameson to start aching from being in this uncomfortable twisted position. He couldn’t exactly tell where they were going from his hiding spot, but he didn’t hear anything unusual, apart from the occasional strange commercial on the radio channel Aneirin was listening to. But of course, the car eventually stopped, and Aneirin climbed out. The locks thunked shut after he left.

Jameson waited a few minutes before sitting up and pushing the blanket aside. Looking out the car windows, he blinked in surprise. This...wasn’t what he was expecting. Instead of being parked outside some building on the outskirts of town, the car was pulled into a small gap in between two large, looming buildings. There was no light coming from them, and only the faint, watery street lamp beams to illuminate anything. Why would Aneirin have driven here...?

After a moment’s hesitation, Jameson unlocked the car door and stepped out. He walked out onto the street, finding it lined with similar tall, wide buildings. Where was this place? Some sort of storage? Why wasn’t anything lit up? JJ shivered, reaching into his pocket to double-check that his cell phone was there. He should find Aneirin, make sure that he was okay.

He looked left down the street, saw nothing, and looked right. There was a group of three people standing beneath one of the weak street lights. With them being the only people in sight, JJ headed in their direction. Eventually, he started picking up voices.

“—kid’s been a runner for three years, cut him some slack.” An unfamiliar female voice.

“No one gets slack at all.” An unfamiliar male voice. “Not even us, Kelly.”

“Still, he does his job.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” And that...that was Aneirin’s voice. Though strangely, his accent, a bit Irish from the years he’d spent being a foster kid in that country, had thickened. “Just give me the green.”

Jameson ducked around a corner of a building, peering out at the group of three. A man, a woman, and Aneirin. He watched as Aneirin handed over a backpack, and the man handed him a case. What was this? It seemed...shady. Aneirin couldn’t really be involved in something like this, right? 

The woman leaned closer to Aneirin, lowering her voice so it couldn’t be heard from where Jameson was watching. But judging from the way Aneirin tensed, whatever she was saying wasn’t good news. Aneirin responded in an equally low tone, and the man suddenly laughed. “You?! Tiny thing like you? Obvious blind spot and likely to collapse at any time? Nah, lad, we’ll go with the professionals.”

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Aneirin bristled, and even from here Jameson could see the anger in his expression. “Easy there,” the woman said, her tone patronizing. “You wouldn’t want to fall down, would you?”

Aneirin lunged at her, and a scream rang out through the empty street. The woman stumbled back, turning enough so that Jameson could see the way her front was stained red. “You little—!” The man grabbed Aneirin by his jacket, and JJ couldn’t help but cry out.

He didn’t think it would be audible to the group, but both the man and Aneirin looked over toward him. JJ’s eyes widened, and he ducked behind the building. “Oh, you brought a friend, didn’t you, you little bastard?!” The man yelled. “Looks like you, too! Family field trip, is it?”

“Hey! Back off!” Aneirin snarled. It would’ve been intimidating, if not for the nervous crack in the middle.

“Oh no, I don’t think so!”

Jameson heard footsteps running towards him, and instantly took off, running down the gap between the buildings. But the man was much faster, and the footsteps grew louder. Jameson glanced over his shoulder, and the man was just a few feet away. He gasped, and pushed himself farther, turning onto another street, then running into another gap in an attempt to shake the man off.

“Don’t you run, you—AAARGK!”

The strange noise wasn’t enough to stop JJ from running. He continued to weave around the gaps in the buildings, until he arrived back at the one the car was parked in. He tore open the backseat door and practically threw himself inside, locking it behind him. He fell onto the floor of the car and stayed there, sitting, knees pulled to his chest and his heart pounding in his throat. His eyes were fixed on staring through the dirty glass of the car window.

A figure appeared there. Jameson made a strangled sort of sound, backing up. The figure knocked on the glass, then a flashlight turned on, shining into the car. Jameson blinked in the light, then squinted through it, recognizing Aneirin as the one holding the flashlight.

Aneirin pointed towards the driver’s side door, and disappeared, rounding around the car. The locks thunked, and Aneirin opened the door and climbed inside. “Jamie?” he called.

Jameson didn’t relax, but leaned forward, into the spot between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat.

“Oh my god!” Aneirin grabbed JJ’s head, one hand on either side, and pulled him even closer. “What were you thinking?! What are you even doing here?! Did you follow me? Why the fuck would you do that?! There’s a reason I don’t tell you what I do!”

Jameson was stunned into silence for a moment. He let Aneirin continue on in a similar vein for a while, then slowly signed, I was just curious.

“Curious?! I—” Aneirin leaned back, burying his face in his hands and taking a few deep breaths. “You can’t...do stuff like that, Jamie,” he said. 

...I’m sorry, JJ signed hesitantly.

“It’s...fine, Jamie, just...just don’t do that again.” Aneirin sighed, looking out the windshield. “Who knows what could’ve happened to you?”

Jameson fell silent for a moment, then awkwardly climbed into the passenger seat, settling into it. What happened to the man? And the woman?

“They’re...dead,” Aneirin said slowly.

Did you kill them? Jameson asked, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“...yes,” Aneirin’s voice was barely audible.

Why?!

Aneirin opened the car door and leaned over outside, picking up something on the ground. He pulled the case from earlier into the car and threw it into the backseat. “Because we need money to live and shit, Jamie, that’s why. Someone offers you a lot, and all you need to do is...go back on your word, then you take it.”

JJ shook his head silently, shocked. Aneirin...have you done this before?

Aneirin shifted in his seat. “What, go to a regular drop-off then walk away with two people dead? No.”

Silence fell. Jameson dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“What’re you doing?” Aneirin said, sitting up straight.

Calling 999, Jameson answered.

“Wh—no! You can’t do that!” Aneirin grabbed Jameson’s wrist, pulling it, and the phone he was holding, away. “Look, I know it looks bad, but there’s absolutely nothing to connect us to this. See? I’m wearing gloves, no fingerprints.”

Jameson stared at him, absolutely stunned. We can’t just let— he started to sign one-handedly.

“No, we have to. Jameson, if the police hear about this, they’re going to judge my place an unfit home, and me an unfit guardian, and they’re going to put you back in the system.” Aneirin tightened his grip on Jameson’s wrist. “I-I can’t let that happen! I can’t let you go back there! Who knows what’ll happen?!”

Jameson managed to pull his wrist away from Aneirin’s grip. They’re not going to put a seventeen-year-old into the foster system. I’m practically an adult.

“As someone who was recently seventeen, that’s debatable. And legally, you’re still a child. It doesn’t matter how close to eighteen you are, until your actual birthday, they’re not gonna let you go.” There was a strong bitter note in Aneirin’s voice. “I can’t...I’ve only had you back for a year, Jamie. After ten fucking years of wondering what happened to you. Please don’t...don’t leave.”

Jameson hesitated. Aneirin’s eyes were shining with a desperate light that could be seen even in the shadows the car was hiding in. And he had to admit, he didn’t want to leave his brother, either. He sighed gently, and put his cell phone down on the dashboard of the car. Alright, fine.

Aneirin practically wilted with relief. “Thank you so much, Jamie.” He twisted in his seat, starting the car. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

The car headed out, with Jameson and Aneirin sitting in silence. Jameson stared out the window, watching as they gradually traveled to a more well-lit part of the town. He expected them to head home. But instead, Aneirin headed to the town center, and parked outside a lit-up building. “Look,” he said, glancing in JJ’s direction. “I’m sorry about...the yelling, earlier. I was just stressed and worried. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was angry with you.”

Jameson exhaled slowly. It’s okay, Aneirin.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Aneirin promised. “Look.” He nodded at the building they were parked outside.

Wait...JJ’s eyes widened. We’re going to Tompson’s?

“Yep.” Aneirin smiled. “Ice cream sounds good after tonight. Luckily they’re open late. You can get whatever you want, whatever size.”

Really? Anything? JJ asked doubtfully. Tompson’s was known for being relatively expensive, but also delicious. They usually saved it for special occasions.

“Of course. It’s on me.”

JJ looked back out the window. He started nodding, slowly at first, then faster. Well, alright then. Can’t do that in the car.

Aneirin laughed. “Course not. Hey, not even gonna say thank you?”

Jameson exhaled softly, and rolled his eyes. Aneirin was always like this. “Thhnk yu-yuh. Annn.” He could’ve signed it, but if Aneirin wanted that, he would’ve said ‘sign.’

“You’re welcome,” Aneirin smiled. “Now let’s go.”

The rest of the night was rather nice. Jameson almost forgot what had happened earlier. Almost. It turns out, these events would not be forgotten easily.

——————

...Jameson was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of his text alert going off. Jameson?? Are you oaky?? Whyd you hang up? Chase asked. It was quickly followed by a *okay

I’m fine, Chase, JJ replied. I just had to think for a moment.

Are you actually fine or just saying that?

Jameson thought hard about this question. I won’t lie. I’m a little...He paused, wanting to type out ‘scared,’ but that might be a bit too far. That was probably something he should talk over with his therapist on Monday; now was not the time to unload everything. ...shaken, hearing about this. But I’ll be okay, I promise.

Alright, if your sure, Chase said. But if you ever need anyone, Im right here.

Thank you, Chase.

The city bus finally pulled up to the station, and JJ hopped aboard, pressing his bus pass to the card reader before taking a seat. He stared out the window as the bus started rolling again. He couldn’t help but glance behind him, even knowing that nobody would be there.

——————

A few days passed, and Monday morning dawned cold and rainy. Dr. Laurens opened her umbrella as soon as she got off the bus, holding it with her unbroken arm. She sighed quietly. Well, looked like she had to walk to work today. And for a while, actually, until her arm was healed enough for her to drive again. She’d better get used to it.

A few drizzly moments later, Laurens stepped inside the main doors of Silver Hills. Awkwardly closing her umbrella, she walked up to the front desk. “Hi, I need to see Dr. Newson, is she in?”

The orderly at the desk looked up, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god, Rya?!”

“Hey, Theresa,” Laurens said, smiling tiredly. “Is Newson in?”

“Yes, I-I can page her—mother of god, what happened to you?” Theresa asked as she started messing with her pager. “You disappeared! Are you alright?”

‘Alright’? Well, that was debatable. The broken arm was not ‘alright,’ and Laurens was pretty sure there was a lot else that would not fit into ‘alright.’ But she’d waited this long. She’d spent time in the hospital, then practically begged to go home so she could get used to being on her own, without having to worry about threats to her life. But still, she couldn’t stop thinking about getting back to work. She knew Newson had taken over Schneep’s case, and she knew Newson hated him. How could she just stand by and leave this situation alone? So, if by ‘alright’ you meant ‘functional and willing to help others,’ then yes, she was alright. “I’m fine, thanks,” Laurens said. “Should I just wait for Newson here?”

“Uh...yeah, that would be great.”

Laurens took a seat in the reception area, looking around. It seemed a bit surreal to be back here after...everything with Anti and Jackie. Like she was last here years ago, instead of just a few months.

About five minutes later, footsteps came down the hall, and Laurens stood up as Newson appeared. Newson’s eyes immediately locked onto her, and she froze. “Wh—Rya?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Laurens stated.

Newson gaped at her, then rushed over to stand in front of her. “You’re okay! Oh my god, I—we were so worried!”

“Really?” Laurens asked, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. “I mean...from what I remembered, you were probably going to fire me—”

“No! I mean—I—” Newson stammered. “I didn’t want you to—look, I may have made a bit of a rushed judgement that day, and I...would hate for that to be the last thing I ever said to you. You truly are great at your job, a-and a great person as well. And I’m not going to fire you.”

“Great,” Laurens nodded. “In that case, can I take my patient back please?”

“Wh—” Newson seemed taken aback by the question stated so clearly. “I...mean...”

“Because I don’t believe that your methods work well with him,” Laurens said, voice and expression deadpan. “Unless something has changed in the two months I’ve been gone.”

“I...” Newson cleared her throat, collecting herself. “Of course you can take the case again. Do understand that I—hello, can I help you?”

Laurens turned around. A tall woman in a black raincoat had just entered the reception area, carrying a briefcase. “Actually, yes,” the woman said. “I’m looking for Dr. Jennifer Newson.”

“That would be me,” Newson said, patting down her coat and smiling cordially. “Do you need something?”

“Ah. My name is Aja Bakshi, I am from Henson & Singh At Law.” Bakshi set her briefcase on the reception desk, opening it up and slapping a piece of paper covered in type down on the surface. “My client wishes to sue you for malpractice, negligence, and abuse of power with your position. This is the notice, details are included on it, as well as my phone number.”

Newson was left speechless. She just stared at Bakshi, absolutely shocked, her wide-eyed gaping expression somewhat reminiscent of a fish. Laurens had to bite back a smile as the thought occurred to her. “Uh...” Newson finally said. “Who...who’s suing me?”

“Details are on the notice, Dr. Newson,” Bakshi said calmly. “We have scheduled a court hearing for the 23rd. We expect to see you there.” And with that, Bakshi snapped the briefcase closed, and turned on her heel and left, door swinging closed behind her.

“Uh...Dr. Newson, are you alright?” Theresa asked.

Newson didn’t answer, instead picking up the paper and scanning it over. “Maher...?” she muttered. “I know that name...”

“Well, I’ll leave you to that,” Dr. Laurens said. “For now, I’d like to see my patient. But I seem to have lost my keycard.”

Newson looked up sharply. “Uh...right. I’ll call Oliver Hopkins, he can take you to the room. Can you get a coat on with your arm like that? Dress code, and all. We have some in—”

“In the back room, I know,” Laurens said. “I’ll meet Oliver there, then.”

About ten minutes later, Laurens had made her way to the back room and pulled on a white coat over her cast before replacing her arm in her sling.

“...Doc?”

Laurens glanced over, watching as Oliver rounded the corner. She smiled. “Hello, Oliver. Your phone is poking out of your pocket, by the way. Be careful.”

Oliver laughed, and wiped his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re okay. I mean, your arm, but. You know.”

“I do know, thank you,” Laurens chuckled. She then sighed. “Anyway, I wanted to check on Schneep. I don’t think I’ll be able to start a session until tomorrow, after I get all the stuff sorted out for coming back, but I...just want to see if he’s alright.”

Oliver winced. “That’s a...that’s a good idea.”

Listening to his tone, Laurens was suddenly shot through with worry. Part of her had wondered if her concern was a bit strange, especially for a therapist-patient relationship, but that one sentence was proof she was justified. “Alright...let’s go down to his room, then.” Laurens turned and started down the hall.

“Uh, Doc?” Oliver called. “He’s not in his room. He’s in the quiet room.”

Laurens stopped, turning around to look at him. “...well,” she said. “Let’s get him out of there, then.”

“Yeah, uh. Good idea,” Oliver muttered. “I should probably tell you that he’s been in there a couple times, and he...doesn’t react well to it.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Laurens muttered, already heading down the hall in the other direction. Honestly, they should just call the room what it actually was: solitary. She supposed it wasn’t a bad idea in principle; sometimes the more hostile patients needed a place to cool down where they couldn’t hurt anyone or themselves. But in situations like this, locking someone in a room alone did more harm than good. Especially now that she knew what had actually happened to Schneep in the nine months he disappeared.

The door to the quiet room looked identical to all the other rooms in the older wing of the hospital, with the only exception being that it didn’t have a room number. But once Oliver opened the door, it became clear what made this room so different. It was the only place in the entire building that had its walls padded, and there was no furniture inside except for a bedframe with a mattress but nothing else. Laurens stepped into the room, looking around. She quickly spotted the figure curled up on the floor in the corner. “Schneep?” She called softly.

Schneep had his arms wrapped around his head, but upon hearing his name, he flinched and moved them enough to see out at her.

“Hey, it’s me,” Laurens said, keeping her voice friendly. “Remember me?”

“Hm.” The small sound wasn’t a confirmation or a denial. Schneep’s eyes darted towards the doorway, with Oliver standing in it.

Laurens looked back towards the doorway as well. Get out of sight, she mouthed. Oliver looked hesitant, but stepped to the side, out of view. Laurens looked back towards Schneep, taking a few steps forward. “Schneep, I need you to answer me. Do you remember me?”

“...Jackie?” Schneep said, his voice hoarse.

“No, I’m not Jackie,” Laurens said. She took a few more steps forward, then got down to kneel on the floor. “You’re not with Jackie right now. You’re in the hospital, remember?”

This seemed to confused Schneep for a bit, but he loosened up, uncovering his head as he realized Laurens wasn’t a threat. “Hospital...” he muttered. “Which one?”

“Silver Hills,” Laurens said.

A short pause. “You are...not lying?” Immediately after asking the question, Schneep laughed. “You would say you are not, either way.”

“I wouldn’t lie about where you are, Schneep,” Laurens said quietly. “I wouldn’t trick you like that.” She paused for a moment, gauging Schneep’s reaction. “Do you need anything?”

“Do I...?” The question threw him off for a bit. “I...I do not want to be here. No, no. Not here.”

“Alright, then let’s go.” Laurens held out her hand, palm-up. Schneep flinched away for a moment, but then reached out and grabbed it. “We’re going to stand up now, okay?”

Schneep nodded, and Laurens unfolded herself from her kneeling position, awkwardly doing her best to stand up without using her arms. After a few moments of trying, she succeeded, and helped pull Schneep to his feet. He immediately stumbled, leaning against her. Laurens gasped slightly, noting the cloudy look in Schneep’s eyes and the way he was shaking a bit. There was no reason for him to be this heavily sedated. “How’re you feeling?” Laurens asked.

“Hmm...cotton,” Schneep said.

“I see. Can you walk?”

“I...I think so, yes.” Despite this assertion, when Laurens started to walk, Schneep only stumbled and almost fell.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Laurens said. “I’m going to call someone who can help, alright?”

“Al...yes.”

Laurens looked toward the doorway. Oliver had poked his head into view, making eye contact with her. She nodded, and he came into the room, silently lifting Schneep into a carrying position. Schneep didn’t protest. “We’re going back to your room, Schneep,” Laurens said. “Okay?”

Schneep paused. Then: “You are the doctor.”

“Yes, I am a doctor. So are you.”

“I know. I mean, you are...you stopped coming,” Schneep mumbled.

Laurens nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t want to. I would’ve kept coming if I could. But now I’m back.”

“Very good. Good that you are alright.” Schneep sighed. “Can we please leave here?”

“Yes, we’re leaving right now,” Laurens said. She started heading to the door, glancing back to make sure Oliver and Schneep were following her. They were.

She sighed gently. This was Newson’s fault, she knew it. But now, hopefully, they wouldn’t have to struggle with that for much longer.

—————— 

“Siri, what does GCS stand for?”

Jackie suddenly snapped to attention, almost hitting his head on the corner of the table. God, he hadn’t even heard Anti come into the room; he must’ve been buried deep in a daydream. Though, honestly, he couldn’t blame himself for that. It was much preferable to be in a daydream world than reality right now. In a daydream, he was able to forget about the cotton taste of the gag in his mouth, and the awkward angle his arms were handcuffed behind his back and around a table leg.

“Okay, I found this on the web,” said the robotic voice of Siri.

Anti was lounging on one of the apartment’s armchairs, dressed in an outfit that...wasn’t exactly his usual style. Jackie was oddly reminded of the way Chase dressed. Anti’s green glass eye had been replaced with a blue one, but he still had the old watch around his neck. “Three to five is good, then,” he muttered to himself. Anti glanced up, noticing Jackie staring at him. “Expecting something, hoodie man?”

Jackie flinched, and looked away, fixing his eyes on a water stain on the wall. He heard the sound of Anti shifting position, but didn’t look back.

Thwack!

A silver blade embedded itself in the wall inches from Jackie’s nose. Jackie cried out, flinging himself backwards and hitting his head against the table leg. Anti laughed. “God, you look like you just had a heart attack!” He paused. “Actually...Hey Siri, what do I do if someone has a heart attack?”

“Okay, I found this on the web.”

Jackie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to take deep, calm breaths. It was difficult, to say the least. Part of him wanted to shout at Anti, ask him what he wanted with him. The rest of him knew that would be a terrible idea, even if he could speak.

This wouldn’t last forever, would it? Something had to change. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

OCtober Day 29 - Accuse

I decided to take the last three prompts and make them direct continuations of each other. This is part 1. Enjoy~

Niiro x Lyric: Accuse

The morning had followed their newly-established routine. Niiro, the early riser of the two, got out of bed and gently tucked the blankets around Lyric’s sleeping form. He wandered about the apartment for a few hours. Sometimes he cleaned, sometimes he read, and sometimes he made himself a cup of tea and sat out on the fire escape to watch the city’s gradual awakening. 

Then, after the sun had been up for some time, he would cook breakfast, and brew two cups of tea (a strong black tea, the closest Lyric ever came to drinking coffee, was always necessary in the morning) just in time for Lyric to stagger drowsily out of the bedroom. 

It wasn’t that different from the routine they had been following for just over a year now. Not really. Niiro had always gotten up early and cooked them breakfast. It was just that now, Niiro found himself struggling to leave the warmth of Lyric’s side and the bed they shared. The quiet mornings before the sun rose had been peaceful, but now they were lonely. And for some reason, his heart just wouldn’t stop doing the Thing when he finally heard Lyric shuffling about in the next room over. (The Thing was what he called it when it felt like his heart had stopped and was going a million beats per minute all at the same time.) 

It was a routine they fell into quickly, and this morning was no different from usual.

Until it was. 

This morning, Niiro had just settled out on the fire escape when he felt it. It had him standing so quickly he nearly upset his cup of tea without noticing. He grabbed for a sword that wasn’t there- because he had become comfortable enough here to not keep Scarlet Rend within arm’s reach at every moment- and swore under his breath when he remembered where he had left it. 

Rushing inside toward the bedroom, Niiro was met with Lyric rushing out of the bedroom. They practically collided in the hallway, and Niiro had to grasp Lyric’s arms to steady him. 

“Did you feel it?” Lyric asked. He already knew the answer. Of course Niiro had felt the burst of arcane energy that tore through the air. The collision of two planes of existence, one that shattered the veil between them. A rift had been opened. 

“Yeah,” Niiro answered anyway.  

“It was close. Too close.” 

“I’m going.”

“A rift that big won’t close on its own,” Lyric insisted. “And you can’t close rifts.”

“No-” Niiro started. Not in agreement with Lyric’s last statement, but rather in disagreement of his next. Lyric said it anyway. 

“I have to go with you.”

Niiro bit back his protest. Arguing with Lyric was a dead end, and the longer they waited, the more dangerous the situation would become. And he has a point: Niiro had no way of closing rifts. He wasn’t a mage, nor did he have any innate magic he could call upon. He could defend the rift, force back any creatures that might try to find their way through; but while a smaller rift would indeed close on its own, a smaller rift would not have sent so massive a shockwave rippling through the magical currents of this plane. This rift was large. It would need to be forced shut. 

Lyric was right. 

“Alright,” Niiro sighed. Lyric was a capable mage. Niiro had to trust him. “Ten minutes. Then we go.” 

- - -

Reaching the rift was not hard. The city’s ley lines called out in distress, a call that Lyric could heed. The occasional magical aftershock guided them too, growing in intensity close to the source. 

To Niiro’s dismay, the rift was not located in the woods beyond the city, where they typically were found. Rather, this rift had been torn open near the very heart of the city itself. They found it, fortunately tucked in a back alley instead of out on the street where anyone could stumble into it; and standing there before the gaping tear in reality itself was Vincent, arms crossed and eyeing the rift as one eyes a drink spilled across the carpet.

“This your doing?” Niiro called out from where he and Lyric had paused at the mouth of the alley. The air around them crackled with magical energy; through the rift, which stood twice the height of a man and nearly the width of three, a faint film of reddish smoke spilled out into the alley. The Lower Planes, Niiro guessed. That meant chances were high creatures were swarming toward the rift even now.

Vincent turned toward them slowly, and if he was offended by Niiro’s half-joking (and half-serious, because friend of Lyric’s or not, the man was dangerous) accusation, he made no show of it. Instead, his eyes, as they always did while in the company of the both of them, focused only on Lyric. 

“This is a problem. Did you bring your spellbook?”

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

RoseGarden Week Day 2:🌹 October 28th: Stars

Heads up! minors keep on Scrolling

“Are…Are we sure this is appropriate?”

That was probably the fifth or sixth time Oscar had asked that. This night alone, that is.

The woman applying makeup to his face rolled her eyes and applied the second fake sideburn to the side of his face.

“Yes, it’s appropriate,” she said, “We’ve checked you out for STDs from head to toe. You’re clean.”

“It’s not that,” Oscar said, fidgeting in his seat, “it’s just…”

He turned around and faced the mirror on the dressing room vanity.

“What if…what if someone I know sees this?”

The woman sighed.

“It’s not going to come to that.” she put her hand on his shoulder, “this film will be for your private collection. It won’t be advertised on our website or released on the internet in any way. We’re not that kind of company.”

Oscar looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“If you’re worried about having a job after this, I do make up for major motion pictures.”

“Really?”

“I was a student of Rick Baker.”

“The werewolf guy?”

“That’s right. Now, hold still while I give you your unibrows.”

Oscar wasn’t entirely sure why he needed them. Sideburns, unibrows, and yellow contacts certainly didn’t seem like something the star of an adult video would wear.

“If you’re wondering about the makeup, our director is pretty…”

The woman paused, probably trying to find the appropriate word.

“Out there.”

“Oh.”

“She used to be a performer herself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she still takes parts from time to time. But mostly she just directs and produces now.”

“What about you?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Are you a… an adult performer, too?”

“Yep. Worked with the director a few times before, too.”

“Really? You just seem so…so…”

“Normal? Sure. Just because I like to wear cat ears while getting ploughed doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside of it.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. He wasn’t an aficionado, but he knew one star that had cat ears as a gimmick.

“You’re Kitty Loggins!”

The woman smiled.

“Not when I’m off camera. Here, I’m just Blake Belladonna.”

“Oh,” Oscar said, “well, it’s nice to meet you, Blake. I’m Oscar.”

“Nice to meet you too Oscar.”

The woman finished gluing the fake hair between his eyebrows and reached for a triangular piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like an animal ear.

“Almost done, just hold still for a moment.”

The people of the Beacon Adult Entertainment had been nothing but nice to him the whole time he’d been here. A far cry from the temple of debauchery he was expecting when he’d gotten here.

But still…

He’d entered the contest as a joke!

Enter now to win a shoot and a day with a Pornstar, the digital flyer had read in big carnival-style font. He was sure it was just a scam or something in that ballpark, since it had appeared in the part of his inbox marked as spam. He’d signed on the dotted digital line and beefed up his virus protection. In two weeks, he and his friends would be laughing about it, no sweat.

But a week and a half later, it had come in the mail.

Congratulations to our new winner, it said in gold foil, you’ve won an all-expenses paid trip to Los Angeles to spend a day with one of our performers at Beacon Adult Entertainment.

He’d almost choked when he finished reading the pass. What would his Aunt say?

It wasn’t like he was a regular patron of the salacious screen stories. Most of the time, it was just that he had to scratch an itch and he bought a dirty magazine with some of the money he’d saved up or watch a video online.

If she found out he’d entered a porn-related contest, even as a joke...

It had taken every bit of his guile and not inconsiderable innocent act to get his aunt to think he’d just won a vacation with no porn involved.

Now, she was asleep in a four star hotel across town while he was sitting in a studio dressing room, getting ready to have sexual intercourse with a total stranger. Thank God the BAE Agency had sent them a personal car and he hadn’t had to tell cab ‘can you take me to the place where they shoot porn?’

It’s not like he couldn’t back out. Nothing in the contest guidelines said that he couldn’t.

But going home meant they’d have to go leave so soon, his Aunt would get suspicious and that meant he might have to come clean to her about how he won this vacation.

“All done,” Blake said, turning Oscar around in his chair so he was facing the mirror, “what do you think?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t bad. He still looked like him, just a little hairier. And the false ears gave him a wolfy appearance.

“It’s pretty good.”

“I do my best. But you might want the brace yourself.”

Blake walked to the other side of the room and took a book from out of her bag.

“The director should be here any minute?”

Oscar frowned.

“Why would I need to brace—“

“Hell-ooo!”

A tall woman with a pair of aviator sunglasses and blonde hair as generous as her busom burst into the room with a sing-song shout. Judging by the t-shirt that read ‘trust me, I’m a director’ Oscar could probably guess who this was.

“So where’s our newest star?”

Blake pointed to where Oscar sat and the boy shrunk as the woman gazed at him from over the tip of her sunglasses.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing.”

The director pinched his cheek and Oscar felt the distinct need to commit seppuku.

“And, I think I have just the girl for you.”

“Yang,” Blake sighed, “Don’t do this again.”

“Do what?”

“This whole…matchmaker thing. Winter almost quit because of you.”

“But she didn’t.”

“I’m still surprised she and Qrow didn’t kill each other.”

“John Boorman did the same thing on Excalibur with Nicol Williamson and Helen Mirren.”

“Boorman didn’t need his actors to have sex with each other.”

The woman, Yang, waved her hand dismissively.

“Details, details…”

Yang grabbed (as in, physically picked him up like a package) Oscar and sat him down in the hallway.

“So, kid, you ready to get your mind blown?”

“No.” Oscar said, only half sure that was his answer.

“Perfect!” Yang said, ushering him in the direction of what he assumed was the set.

“I know you’re nervous,” she said, “that’s natural. You read the script?”

“Yeah, it’s…”

“Garbage, I know. Just give it your all and don’t worry about how you look. And before I forget, here’s your stage name. We were a little short on time, but I think we came up with something that suits you.”

The director, Yang, handed him what looked like a business card, which Oscar took. Half a second later, he stared at her, incredulous.

“Pino Largo!?”

“Oh, come on!” Yang said, slapping him on the back, “Everyone has names like that in this biz.”

“But why do I need a stage name? You’re not releasing this!”

Yang stopped and turned to look at him, confused.

“We’re not?”

Oscar shook his head.

“No!”

Yang recovered in record time.

“Well, we didn’t advertise a new release anyway. No skin off our nose.”

                                                        🌹 🌹 🌹

The story was simple. A filthy take on little red riding hood where Little Red fucked the wolf’s brains out. Oscar was just thankful he didn’t have to wear an old lady nightgown for his part. Just be ruefully naked under the sheets in a room full of people in a mock woodland cottage bedroom.

He shivered.

Did Yang have to pick a filming locale that was so drafty? If it wasn’t for the bedclothes, he’d be freezing his butt off.

“Sorry I’m late!”

A voice off to Oscar’s left caught his ear and he turned to see who it was. It sounded familiar.

Oscar turned his head enough to see a woman in a red jacket was hugging Yang. When she finally pulled away, Oscar could see her face.

Ruby Rose.

He was shooting a porno with Ruby Rose.

Suddenly, Oscar’s throat felt like a desert and his stomach like a butterfly habitat.

Of all the adult actresses he would have to appear in a film with, it had to be with the one he’d been crushing on since the first time he’d seen her in the swimsuit issue of a magazine!

When Oscar had told himself that he didn’t follow adult entertainment, he may not have been being completely honest with himself.

With her petite cutie pie looks and Hot Topic style, she was easily the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen. Plus, she was always so funny in her videos and make-up videos. And she also knew karate, so that was kind of cool. And also…

“Ruby! Come meet your co-star!”

Damn that crazy director! Now they were coming this way.

Just play it cool, thought Oscar, It’s no big deal, it’s just the beginning of the end of your life.

Oscar tugged the covers up over his face so that his eyes were the only thing visible. He could just say he was method acting.

“Ruby, this is Pino. He’s the one who won the contest. Say hi, Pino.”

Oscar looked up at Ruby, sweet smiling and in no way sexual. Great, not only was she sexy, she was cute and just…

Say something Oscar, he thought, anything!

“You…you have silver eyes…”

Anything but that! Ruby frowned, obviously confused.

“They’re contacts for the shoot.”

Oscar didn’t have time to apologize or explain before Yang started shouting. 

“Places, everyone! Ruby, get to costumes!”

Nice work, Casanova, Oscar thought as Ruby hurried off, if this wasn’t going to be awkward enough.                                                      

                                                        🌹 🌹 🌹

“Quiet on the set!” Yang shouted through a megaphone.

“And…ACTION!!!”

The door to the set opened and Ruby crept into the fake bedroom.

“Grandma,” she said in a faux-innocent voice, “I’m here!”

“I…I’m in the bedroom.” Oscar said. The script had said to use a fake old lady voice but Oscar had completely forgotten until after he’d said the line

“You know, the innocent angle might actually work for us here.” Oscar heard Yang whisper.

When Ruby skipped over to the side of the bed, Oscar could see what she was wearing. It was less in the sexy range and more in the cute range, with lace and ruffles but why did she have to wear it like a pro!?

“Grandma,” Ruby said, leaning in too close for Oscar’s comfort, “What big eyes you have!”

Was she wearing perfume? Was it cherry and rose scented?

“A-all the better to…to see you with…”

He swallowed. He was sure that right now he had the on-camera charisma of a pet rock. But backing out meant a disappointed aunt, so he might as well soldier on.

“My dear.”

If Ruby noticed the tremor in her voice, she gave no sign of it.

“And Grandma, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with.”

He hoped that nobody would notice how he didn’t add ‘my dear’ to that last line. He had like fifteen minutes alone with the script, so he hoped the crew would cut him a break.

“And Grandma…”

Here it comes, Oscar thought, the most embarrassing part of the script. Whoever wrote it deserves to be dipped in batter and deep fried! Ruby gripped the bed covers and Oscar braced himself.

“What a big…”

The moment the covers came off, Oscar fought down the urge to cover himself. No one’s going to see this, he told himself. When it’s over and they’ve given him a copy, he would find a dark place in the woods, bury it, and then never speak of this again. And from the expression on Ruby’s face, Oscar thought she’d appreciate that course of action.

“Oh…”

Oh? What was oh? Was that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?

“Oh my…”

What was she doing? Right now, she was just looking confused.

“That…that is a big cock.”

“What?”

Oscar looked down at himself. He’d always thought he was normal sized.

“I just…”

Ruby put hand on her head and chuckled.

“I kind of wish I could take a picture.”

Oscar sat up, intrigued by his co-star’s change in demeanor.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t know what I was expecting when we had that contest, but whoa!”

“Well, is it…is this okay?” Oscar asked hesitantly, shifting in his seat, “if you don’t want to do this, I get it.”

An amused smile turned up the right side of Ruby’s mouth.

“That's sweet of you, but don't worry. I’ve got enough talent for both of us.”

“Oh. Well that’s probably good, because…”

Oscar steeled himself. Of all the ways he could have pictured admitting this to a girl, this wasn’t one of them.

Because it’s…”

He said it quietly, hoping he wouldn’t have to repeat it. Ruby frowned.

“What was that?”

He repeated it, only slightly louder.

“One more time.”

“ I said…it’s…it’s my first time.”

For a moment, Ruby stared at him, and Oscar feared the worst. Before he could calculate where this situation fell on a scale of one to dying from embarrassment, Ruby covered her eyes and squealed loud enough to make Oscar jump.

“What!? What is it?”

“You’re just…so cute! With your wolf ears and your blushing and your big cock and…”

“This isn’t in the script but it is GOLD!” Yang whispered from offset.

Or at least Oscar thought that’s what he heard Yang say, but he was still hooked on what Ruby had called him.

Cute? Well, that was a boost to his self-confidence. It wasn’t every day a woman complimented your anatomy and said you were cute in the same conversation.

“Well, while we’re being honest,” said Oscar, “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now.”

Ruby blushed and fidgeted and Oscar’s heart went pitter pat.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I watch your interviews and read articles about you and I…um…

“It’d be a lie if I didn’t tell you I never… caught myself thinking about him when I shouldn’t.”

“Oh?”

Ruby crawled onto the bed, leaning forward into his personal space and Oscar felt his throat tighten, but in a good way.

“Then, what kinds of things does Mister Wolf think about Little Red?”

For a moment, Oscar’s mind went blank before a laugh finally burst from his throat, a laugh which Ruby caught.

“We’re not exactly staying in character here.” Ruby chuckled.

“It’s not going to be released anyway.” Oscar said.

Ruby smirked, her lips a hair’s breath away from the left side of his mouth.

“Well in that case…”

“WE’VE RENTED THIS PLACE FOR A LITTLE OVER TWO HOURS!” Yang shouted through her bullhorn, “LET’S SEE SOME ACTION!”

That was certainly a mood killer. Couldn’t that director just leave the cameras running and buzz off? It’s not like this was going to make anyone any money.

“I’m gonna do it!”

Oscar turned to the sound of Ruby's voice. His co-star had a look of iron resolve on her face.

“I’m gonna give you the ride of your life!”

Before he could respond, Ruby tackled him onto the mattress, smashing their lips together. Oscar's mind, meanwhile, was reeling, not able to form a cohesive question, let alone think through the sensations this girl on top of him was sending by running her hands up and across his exposed skin. Maybe he didn't have anything to worry about…

                                                       🌹 🌹 🌹

I Might do a mature version on AO3 later. Sorry this is so freaking late.

[daisyxbuckley]

Afterlife//Mitch Rapp Series

A/N: This is like the SHORTEST chapter you will ever see me write for a series. Like for real. Instead of my usual 10 pages, this was like 4 so ill hopefully have the next part up tonight lol. Anyways enjoy! 

Description: It’s been six months since Mitch and Ophelia took down Ghost. Six months since Ophelia had to kill someone that she thought she once loved. Now a new threat is back and the only question is…with they both make it out alive?

@cxddlyash @dylan-obrien-fanblog @stiles-o-dylan24 @xceafh

******************************************************************************************

4 Months Later 

Mitch slammed the hotel room door shut and threw his bag on the table. Shrugging his shirt off, he kicked his shoes to the side and went into the bathroom. Scrubbing his face, Mitch looked up at the face that was glaring back at him. His eyes were sunken and his skin was a bit paler. The shine that he had started getting back was gone and he hadn’t smiled since that night. Sighing he walked out and rummage through his bag and pulled out a clean shirt. Grabbing a beer from the mini fridge, he popped the top off before he sat down on the couch and sat in front of the computer. 

“Come on O, where are you?” He said to himself, staring at the screen. He was somewhere in Paris. Or maybe it was Russia ...Mitch had no clue at this point. 

The moment Mitch had woken up in that cabin he called Stan. He was frantic and spent most of the night looking for her, but if Ophelia didn’t want to be found then she wouldn’t be. It broke Mitch’s heart that she felt like she had to run away. 

Mitch brought up the security footage that Adam had sent over to him. The second Ophelia went missing, he put a hit on all the facial recognition software. She hadn’t been popping up but they knew that she was alive. Men had been showing up all over Europe that had her signature all over them. There were pictures of her spread around the room, most of them taken within the first three weeks she was gone. After that she had vanished and he hadn’t seen her since. 

Adam’s videos were probably a bust but he took a swig of his beer and pressed play anyways. It was taken from a market that was full of vendors. His eyes scanned the screen looking for her. Taking another swig from the bottle he noticed something on the right of the screen. 

The figure was wearing black skinny jeans tucked into black boots that went up to her calves. The jacket she wore showed the dark grey tank top that was tucked into the waistband of her jeans and when she adjusted her jacket, he saw the firearm that was tucked in the small of her back. But what caught Mitch’s eye were the healing fingernails on her left hand. Leaning closer, Mitch’s eyes narrowed when she turned around. Ophelia looked up where the camera was like she knew it was there. The look on her face was cold and calculated, her hair had grown out into waves down her back. Her bangs were chopped just above her eyes, framing her face. The brown hair that he used to know had been lightened with blonde highlights. It was almost as if she knew he would be watching. 

Mitch quickly checked the time and date. It was from the day before at market in Kiev. Grabbing his phone he instantly called Stan waiting for him to pick up. 

“What.” The voice answered gruffly. 

“I found her. She was in Kiev, Ukraine yesterday.” Mitch said. The video had been paused with her face staring at him. Stan was silent on the phone as he thought about what these meant. 

“She wanted to be found.” 

“I know sir. I can be there tomorrow.”

“Rapp, don’t spook her.” Stan said lowly. “She is still with him and we don’t want shit going south.” 

“Sir..what is the mission.” Mitch asked quietly. The question hung in the air between them. Mitch knew that neither of them had any clue if Ophelia was even on their side anymore. 

“Extract her. I don’t care how you do it. Just do it.” Stan said before hanging up. 

Mitch quickly shut his laptop and shoved it into the bag along with the files and the rest of his stuff. Booking a ticket on his phone, he quickly checked out of the hotel and caught a cab to the airport. Three hours later he was landing at the airport in Kiev and heading to the closest hotel. Setting up in a room under an alias, Mitch got settled in and realized that it was almost three in the morning and as much as he wanted to go searching for her, he knew that he needed some sleep. Sighing he laid back on the couch and closed his eyes. 

His dreams were always about her. The last time he saw her, how she had looked at him in sadness. Mitch sighed and opened his eyes looking at the clock. Groaning he realized he managed to sleep for about four hours. Getting up he threw some water on his face and put a clean shirt on. Grabbing his gun, he checked the clip and put it in the waistband of his jeans while grabbing his jacket. Shrugging it on he grabbed his things and walked out the door. 

The cold October air was crisp as Mitch walked quickly through the streets. His breath came out in short puffs as he kept his head down and tried to steer clear of everyone. Dipping into a cafe, he ordered a coffee and smiled at the girl as she made it for him. After asking for some directions, he walked out the door. The same market that Ophelia had been seen in was a few blocks away so he figured that he would stay there and look around. 

The market was already crowded for the early hours and it made Mitch uncomfortable. He sat down at a table that allowed him to see everything around him. He sipped his coffee and tried to figure out what the hell Ophelia was doing in the Ukraine. He and Stan had already come to the conclusion that she was working for Kiernan, but they had no clue why. Stan threw out, one drunken night, that maybe she was brainwashed. But as much as Mitch wanted to believe that was the case, he knew that Ophelia was too strong for that. 

Mitch sat in the same spot for about five hours. He studied every person that was in the market that day. He looked for Ophelia in every girl her age, hoping that it would be her and she would reappear. But she never did. Sighing, he finally got up to head back to the hotel room when he heard it. 

Her voice.

Mitch started scanning the market. He saw her from following someone that was walking next to her. She casually brought her hand to her mouth, like she was scratching her cheek, but Mitch knew that she was talking to someone. He quickly started following after them. He recognized Kiernan standing next to her and his blood started boiling when he touched her lower back and Ophelia just let him. Mitch stayed hidden until the group got to a black sedan. He watched as Ophelia looked around before Kiernin stepped into the car. Once he was in, she hit the hood and watched it drive off before going the other way. 

Mitch let a little distance between them as she continued into the crowd. The last thing he needed was for her to run. He watched as she pulled out her ipod and put her headphones in but he knew she wasn’t really zoned out. She knew everything going on around her. He followed her for about twenty minutes before he saw her go down a side street. Mitch took a left and cursed when he realized she wasn’t there anymore. 

“God Damnit!” He yelled as he ran a hand through his hair. Hearing the safety of a gun click off, Mitch tensed up before turning around slowly with his hands up. Ophelia stood across from him, her gun was raised and a hard look on her face. Mitch felt his own gun in the waistband of his jeans and knew that he could reach it in time, but he wouldn’t do that to her. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked with no emotion. Mitch was surprised that she spoke to him like she didn’t care.

“Ophelia...what the hell is going on? “ He asked slowly. “What are you doing.” 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Was all she said, never lowering her gun. She hated that this was the position she was in, but she knew that this was how it had to be to save him. 

“I shouldn’t be here?” Mitch yelled. “Ophelia you shouldn’t be here.” he said stepping forward. He didn’t care that sh was pointing a gun at his chest. He just wanted her home.

“Mitch...you need to leave.” Ophelia whispered. She hated feeling like this, she wanted nothing more than to just pull him close and run away with him. But she couldn’t. 

“I’m not going anywhere without you. O, we haven’t stopped looking for you.” He said placing a hand on the gun trying to lower it. Mitch refused to take his eyes off hers as he slowly lowered it to her side. They stood there staring at each other for a second and Mitch could see the wall fall in her eyes and knew that he was getting through to her. “O, please. I need you.” Mitch pleased. Before she could react, he had pressed her up against the wall. His lips had latched onto hers as his hands found her waist wrapping around it. Her arms reached up instinctively and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Ophelia’s hands moved up through his hair and Mitch moaned as her hails scraped across his scalp. He nipped at her lip as he pulled away and started kissing down her neck. He had missed the taste of her skin and wasn’t going to stop till she broke and came home with him. 

“Mitch.” Ophelia gasped as she tried to get her bearings again. She shouldn’t be doing this..if anyone saw them he would be in danger. “Stop!” She yelled pushing him back. “You need to go. Now.” Ophelia said scooping up the gun she dropped and placing it in the small of her back. 

“Why did you let me catch you if you weren’t planning on coming home?” Mitch asked with a frustrated look on his face. “You’ve been gone for four fucking months, O. Why bother with showing me you were still alive if you didn’t want me going after you?”

“Because I wanted you to move on!” Ophelia yelled. “I wanted you to know I was alive so you would stop worrying about me and move on.” She was so close to spilling the tears that were welling up in her eyes but she refused. Ophelia ran a hand through her hair as she chewed on her bottom lip and Mitch had to physically restrain himself from shoving her against the wall and kissing her again. 

“We aren’t just going to leave you Ophelia. Let us help you...please.” Mitch said carefully stepping forward “We just want you to come home.” 

Shaking her head, Ophelia slowly looked away. “Go home Mitch, forget about me.” She whispered. Before he could reply, Ophelia had taken off down the alleyway and back out onto the street. It took Mitch about five seconds to chase after her but he got out to the street right as he saw her taking off on her red sports bike vanishing from sight. 

“FUCK!” He yelled attracting stares and glaring at everyone. Quickly taking off in the direction of his hotel, Mitch pulled his phone out to dial Stan. 

He was going to get Ophelia back even if it killed him. 

[nomattertheoceans]

I made you a promise - chapter 16

Before I let you read on, a few important announcements.

I will be leaving tumblr from Sunday 21st, until I’ve read Kingdom of Ash. Because I’ve already put my spoiler tags up, and still I started to see things about the book (I don’t know how these people got their hands on the book, but how about using some tags, people? I’m so angry about it, I don’t want to dwell on it and ruin your day too….)

Knowing myself and how I read, I’ll probably start reading it on Friday 26th, and will hopefully have finished it on Sunday or something.

Once I come back to tumblr, this blog will definitely not be spoiler free!!! I will be using these tags on every koa post I share: “koa spoilers”, “koa spoiler”, “kingdom of ash spoiler” and “kingdom of ash spoilers” That way, if you want to avoid any spoilers, just filter at least one of these tags and you’ll be safe in my blog.

Regarding the fic: this might be my last update in a while. In November, I won’t be updating it at all, because I’ll spend the month of November  developing my original story, and I can’t focus on my story if I keep thinking about my fics. So I’ll try to get a chapter out between the moment when I’ll finish Kingdom of Ash, and the beginning of November, but nothing certain. In any case, whether it be this chapter or the next one, I promise I won’t leave you guys on a big cliffhanger hahahaha (I’m really not that cruel ^^), and I also promise that I am in no way abandoning this fic, and will be back in December! I just need some time for my other project :)

Anyway, that’s it I guess. Thank you so so much to everyone who reads, likes, comments,... I love it all!!

@highladyofherondale @amazinginglyawesomeperson @illyrianbeauty

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Writing masterlist || On mobile

Feyre sat down at her small desk after lunch, a smile lingering on her face. She’d just eaten with Rhys, and at some point during the meal, he’d casually referred to her as his girlfriend, before realizing what he’d said and looking at her with dread in his eyes. She hadn’t been able to stop her laugh at the sight of him freaking out, a warm feeling spreading in her heart at the idea that he considered her his girlfriend, that it had come as naturally to him as it had to her. Still smiling, she opened her inbox to check emails, somewhat mindlessly reading through them, thinking - and blushing - about something Rhys had whispered in her ear before leaving her at the door. Something about making his girlfriend moan when he…

There was an email from New York. From John, the author she’d met with the week before. And the email was titled: “John Helvar - Illustrated edition - Trip to NYC?” She opened it frantically and read what he’d written to her:

From: john.helvar@gmail.com

To: arch.feyre@gmail.com

Email sent on: Tuesday, October 30th at 1:04 p.m.

Feyre,

How are you?

I’m writing to you as a follow up of our meeting in Velaris last week. I was charmed by all of the ideas you presented to me, and showed them to my publisher on Friday. She also liked them, and would like to meet you and discuss them further before making a final decision. We’re both available at the beginning of next week, and would like for you to come to New York for a few days. It would be a trip from Sunday afternoon until Wednesday morning, allowing us two full days to work. The publishing house would pay for your plane tickets and your hotel.

Let me know before Thursday if you’re available, to book everything for you.

Looking forward to seeing you soon in New York,

John.

She wasn’t sure she was breathing. He wanted her to come to New York. To meet his publisher. To craft a contract. Which meant he wanted to work with her, he wanted her to create every single one of the illustrations for his books. An entire collection, with about 100 to 150 pages per book. After meeting her twice, he trusted her enough to agree to working with her for the next few months, the next few years. She felt her heart racing in her chest, her breathing became jagged and her hands were shaking.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go to New York and meet with these people when she had to drag herself out of bed every morning, when she found every drawing she made harder than the last. Not when she’d been unable to pick up a paintbrush for months, her only drawings being those requested for work. She’d felt sort of confident during the meetings with him, but it hadn’t been serious. For all that she wanted and needed this job, she hadn’t considered the possibility that he might actually choose her. Her vision blurred and she realized she was crying. The realization woke her up and she tried to force her body to calm down. Nothing was decided yet, she thought, clenching at her desk to keep herself grounded, he simply wanted her to meet the rest of the team that was working on the project. Maybe he didn’t even want to work only with her, maybe she would be part of a bigger team of illustrators and her work wouldn’t even be noticed.

But it didn't work, she was still panicking, tears still rolled down on her cheeks. Without thinking, she picked up her phone and dialed.

***

The day was beautiful. Granted, it was raining, and he was freezing, and he had about a zillion paperwork to finish before he could go home tonight. But how could this day not be beautiful, when he’d just had lunch with his wonderful girlfriend - it was official now - and she was coming to his place to spend the night. He’d have to buy some stuff for her if she started to sleep at his house more regularly, like a toothbrush, some of her shampoo, maybe some stuff for her period if she wanted, a hairbrush,...

He was driven away from his mental shopping list by the vibrations of his phone in his pocket. Smiling at the name on the screen, he answered:

“Hey you, miss me already?”

“Oh Gods Rhys, I’m freaking out.” Her voice was stranded, and her breathing frantic.

“What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I am. It’s just…. I received an email from the guy I met with the other week. He wants me to go to New York next week to meet his publishing team.”

“Feyre, that’s great!” He wasn’t really an expert in the publishing world, but the author wanting her to meet with his publisher was bound to be a good sign.

“I… Yeah I guess it is.” But her voice was flat, and he started wondering what was in this email that got her so freaked out.

“Darling, what’s going on? You don’t sound pleased.”

“No, I am.” A pause. “I am. See you tonight at your place?”

“Y - yes, sure. Are you sure you’re okay?”

But she had already hung up before his question was over.

***

She refused to approach the subject of New York for the entire evening, cleverly avoiding talking about it, and bluntly staring at him when he tried to bring it up. So they ate in near silence, Rhys trying and failing to make her open up to him, and then keeping quiet, hoping she might feel better if he left her alone. They washed the dishes, turned off the lights and got up to his bedroom. He was fishing out a clean pair of underpants to sleep in when he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, seated on his bed, her hand tucked between her thighs, crying silently. He turned around and hurried to her, kneeling down in front of her.

“Feyre, what’s going on?”

She avoided his eyes, and was clenching her hands together, tears rolling down her cheeks silently. Still without looking at him, she said: “Are you… Are you mad at me?”

“What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well… I don’t know. Because I didn’t want to talk about New York, and you might think I want to hide something from you, and be mad.” Her voice had grown quieter as she talked, and she looked so sad, Rhys decided then and there that if he ever met her ex-boyfriend, he wouldn’t mind punching him in the face once or twice.

“Feyre, please, look at me.” And he was pleading her, pleading because he wanted her to look into his eyes and understand that he would never react like that, with her or anyone else. She met his eyes but she was still sobbing silently, her beautiful face stained by tears, and her eyes red. “Feyre, you don’t have to tell me everything. Ever. If you don’t want to tell me about something, it’s absolutely fine, and normal.” He rested his hands on her thighs gently. “I simply stopped talking about it because I thought I was annoying you, and I thought you’d feel better if I left it alone. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

He stopped talking and let her cry, not wanting to make her feel like she had to stop before she felt better. She cried for a while longer, and then she managed to calm down enough to take in deep breaths. He got up from his knees, sat down beside her and gently took her head between his hand. He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, and slowly, so that she’d understand what he was doing and stop him if she wanted to, he hugged her. She gripped his jumper and he tightened his grip on her back, pulling her even closer to him.

“I don’t think I’m going to go to New York,” her voice was a mere whisper, as if she was indeed telling him a secret, but she was steady.

“Can I ask you why?” He kept his voice equally low.

“I don’t think it’s going to be worth it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not good enough to do this job, Rhys. And even if I was, even if the people I’d met with liked my work… I would never be able to deliver.”

“Why would you think that? You’ve been doing this job for years.”

“But this is different. It’s… It’s such a big commitment. If I do agree to work with them, I’ll probably be involved in this project for years. It’s seven books to illustrate. It would take so long, and I can’t guarantee them that I’ll be able to manage it.”

He gently forced her to move away from him so that he could look her in the eyes when he answered:

“Feyre, this is your job, and from what you’ve shown me, you’re pretty good at it. I have no doubt that if you start working with them, you’ll deliver every single piece of art they need. And every single one of them will be beautiful.”

She gave him a sad smile, and it broke his heart a little, because he could see that she didn’t believe him, that she simply smiled because she thought he was only trying to reassure her. Gods, he wanted to help her so much it hurt, he could feel his heart break at the sight of her being so sad. He couldn’t stand to know that she didn’t believe in herself, when he himself believed in her more than he could express. And it seemed that there was nothing he could say or do that would change her feeling of being worthless.

“Feyre, why do you think you can’t manage?”

“Because… My job, it’s not serious. Working with your hobby, that’s not something serious, that’s not something you can do for your entire life. Drawing and painting, I never learned properly, I was never trained. And untrained skills are useless in the professional world, I wouldn’t be able to hold my own in such a big project.”

And then he knew. He knew why she was feeling so unconfident. And he was boiling with rage at the idea. But he needed to be sure:

“Did he tell you that? Did he call your talents useless and tell you that you couldn’t work with them?” Her silence was answer enough, and he wanted to cry. “Shit Feyre. You are so talented. What you’re able to create, what comes to life under your touch, it’s a gift. And it’s beautiful. Maybe you weren’t trained, but I have absolutely no doubt that you’ll be able to meet any challenge that comes your way. You’re strong, and you’re stubborn enough not to let anyone tell you otherwise.” She chuckled slightly at that, sniffing after her tears, “Feyre, I think you should go to New York, because you might regret it if you don’t. And I’m sure you won’t regret going. Worse thing happens, you don’t like it, you tell them that you don’t want to work with them, and you come back home. Free trip to New York!”

She actually laughed at his sloppy attempt at a joke, and wiped her eyes to get rid of the last tears lingering in them. His chest tightened, and he resisted the urge to take her in his arms again, allowing her space to breathe. When she looked at him once more, there was still sadness in her eyes, but it was coated with a joyful brightness that reflected in her smile. She advanced and kissed him fully, her lips wet and salty, and he kissed her back, hugging her against him.

***

She arrived at her desk the next morning rested and smiling softly. What had happened the night before had been… amazing. Rhysand had been amazing. She’d had one of her most awful days in a long time, and still he had found the right words, given her the exact amount of reassuring and affection and space to sort it out. He’d given her space, had allowed her to cry for as long as she’d needed it, not commenting on it, not asking for her to calm down. And she had felt so much better afterwards. She couldn’t exactly say that she was confident about her abilities to work on the project, but at least she was ready to try. She opened her computer and typed an answer:

RE: John Helvar - Illustrated edition - Trip to NYC?

From: arch.feyre@gmail.com

To: john.helvar@gmail.com

Draft written on: Wednesday, October 31st at 9:12 a.m.

Hello John,

Thank you for your email. I am thrilled that you liked my ideas for your book, and would love to come to New York next week to discuss it further with you and your associates. I am available on the dates you gave me, so feel free to book those days for our meeting. Please find enclosed a copy of my personal information for any booking you might have to make regarding this trip.

Looking forward to seeing you again,

Greetings from Velaris.

Feyre.

Looking at her screen, she exhaled loudly and clicked send, afraid she might lose her nerves if she waited any longer.

She was going to New York.

[corystssides]

Roommates, Part 5

Words: 2079

Summary: Communication. It works.

Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything this chapter but lmk.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

As Logan stared at his third cup of coffee, he realized that he was going to need to find a cheaper coffee shop. Or, perhaps, he would need to find the coffee shops on campus that took the “dining dollars” that came with his meal plan. Twelve dollars was a bit ridiculous for only three cups of coffee. He could have gotten almost twice as many of the brand name energy drinks for that price, or even more of the weird-tasting generic kinds.

Still though, it was coffee he’d needed, not energy drinks. Coffee was warm, comforting, a ritual. Coffee was for calmness. So what if this was a three cup problem? He could just eat more ramen instead of other food to make up for it later.

His phone buzzed. It was Patton, asking, Hey, where u at? I wanna hang.

Logan considered not responding. He was, after all, here to calm down, and Patton could get on his nerves at the best of times. Still, though, he’d done enough ruining of moods today. He sighed, and replied, Orange Mug. Across from Stoker, next to the textbook place.

Can u wait 10 minutes? I can walk over. If not we can meet up somewhere else.

I can wait. It’s fine.

Coolio!

Logan spent the next seven minutes seriously debating whether or not he should leave, but he did not, and Patton arrived. He waved at Logan and headed up to the counter. Even on a Sunday afternoon, the place was busy enough that Logan couldn’t hear what he ordered.

A few minutes later, Patton came over with two cups, one of which he slid across the table to Logan. “You look like you need another one,” he said in response to Logan’s bewildered look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan asked.

“Your hair’s a mess and you seem frazzled.” Patton had learned already that it was best to be direct with Logan, though he tried not to be painfully blunt. He didn’t want to be mean about it.

“Oh,” Logan said. He decided not to tell Patton that this would not be his second coffee, but rather his fourth. “Well, thank you.”

“So how’s your weekend been so far?” Patton asked.

“Fine.”

“Really.”

“Yes.”

“So what did you do?”

“I flew home and did homework in a place that was hardly any quieter than the dorms. Really, I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“You flew?” Patton asked, trying to get to a subject that Logan would talk about in something other than curt declarative sentences. “Where do you live?”

“Ohio.”

“And you came here? Why?”

“I’ll admit, getting out of the state was something very important to my college search.”

“But Colorado? Why not, like, New York, or somewhere cool?”

“There’s a good physics program here.”

“There’s better physics programs than here. Like, I’m pretty sure there’s better ones even within Colorado.”

Logan shrugged. “This one has a more acceptable price point.” He seemed like he was starting to get uncomfortable with the line of conversation. Time to change the subject again.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here!” Patton said. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have ever met!”

Patton’s smile was so wide and genuine that it caught Logan off-guard. He stuttered out an “I’m glad too,” but didn’t know where to go from there.

There was a bit of awkward silence that both boys filled by sipping their drinks and avoiding eye contact.

After a few minutes, Patton said, “Do you wanna take a walk? It’s pretty loud in here.”

“Sure,” Logan said. They grabbed their drinks and walked out.

They crossed the street in silence and started a leisurely stroll through the quiet side of campus. This side--the old side--had large maples and pines lined against the streets, and pathways crossing through large park areas to old brick buildings. The trees were far enough apart that you could still see the street easily, but they were close enough together and had dense enough foliage that they dampened the noises from traffic and made this side of campus very peaceful.

“How do you even know my coffee order, anyway?” Logan asked.

“Oh, I had no idea what your coffee order was. I asked the barista if she remembered,” Patton said.

“I see,” Logan said, taking a sip.

There was a slight pause, and then Patton said nonchalantly, “By the way, I’m pretty sure the maximum healthy amount of coffee per day is five cups, so uh, I really hope you didn’t drink more than one cup this morning.”

Logan felt his face heat up. He busied himself with watching the sidewalk and avoiding the fallen maple leaves. It was still early September, and most of them were still green. “I feel like the Orange Mug isn’t going to end up being a frequent spot for me,” he said.

“Aww, come on,” Patton said, jokingly. “At least you can tell they care.”

They turned down one of the diagonal paths. There were ten or twelve people across the park area, some playing with dogs, some sitting on benches, all enjoying the warm day before the weather started turning cold and the homework levels increased exponentially.

“So how are you settling in with Virgil?” Patton asked.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that question,” Logan said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Not an encouraging statement, but I’ll play along. Are you gonna join us for game night this week?”

“Probably, unless we’re playing Cards Against Humanity.”

“Nah. After last time I think we’re permanently removing that from the roster. I was thinking Monopoly.”

“Who’s coming?” Logan asked, changing directions when two paths intersected.

“Provided that Roman and Virgil sort things out, it’s gonna be the four of us, and maybe Makayla and her roommate.”

Logan raised his eyebrows at Patton. “What happened with Roman and Virgil?” he asked.

“Apparently they fell asleep watching Disney movies on Roman’s bed and now Virgil’s not talking to Roman. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“We, uh, haven’t talked a whole lot today.”

“Because you’re roommates, not friends.”

“Yeah.”

“Have either of you considered switching rooms?” Patton asked.

“We can’t even consider it until everyone in temporary housing gets sorted out. I’ve asked some of the RAs and they’ve all said it will probably be between October and December before that happens, and we probably wouldn’t be able to switch until December unless it was an emergency.”

“Then it looks like you’ll just have to get along in the meantime,” Patton said.

“That’s the goal,” Logan said. Then he muttered, “At least, it’s my goal.”

“What do you mean by that?” Patton asked.

Logan opened his mouth, grimaced, and said, “I merely mean to say that I can’t read Virgil’s mind, so I can’t speak for him or his goals.”

Patton was pretty sure that wasn’t what Logan had meant to say, but he let it slide for now. “So now that you have a goal, how are you going to get it done?”

Logan sighed, and pitched his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can. “In the most effective, yet least desirable option: talking it out.”

~

Roman knocked on the door. “Hey, Virgil, you home?” he asked.

There was a crash from inside. Roman really hoped Virgil hadn’t dropped anything breakable. There was no answering reply.

“Hey, Virgil, can I come in? I need to talk to you,” Roman said. “I’m also willing to help clean up whatever you just dropped.”

There was no reply, but he did hear movement, and after a minute, Virgil opened the door. “Watch where you step,” he said, not looking at Roman.

Roman followed him in, carefully watching to make sure he didn’t step on anything. There were little army pieces everywhere. In the center of the room was a cardboard box and a half-opened map. “Risk?” he asked.

“I thought we could play it during game night,” Virgil said. He stepped across the room, carefully avoiding both the scattered armies and Roman’s eyes. His hair was a mess, he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, and he looked far more anxious than he usually was.

Roman let go of the door, and it swung shut. He knelt down and started picking up Risk bits. Virgil copied him.

After a few moments, he said, “I’m sorry about last night.”

“It was my fault,” Virgil said. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“I shouldn’t have made you stay,” Roman said. “Especially not after hours of stats, of all things.” There was a pause, and then, “By the way, your shoes are still in my room.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil said. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Dude!”

“I panicked!” Virgil said defensively. “I would have noticed eventually!”

Roman was cracking up. Virgil threw a cannon at him. “Hey!” Roman said. He grabbed the first piece he reached and threw it back.

Then it was war. Risk pieces flew through the air and both boys descended into laughter. They didn’t even notice when keys jiggled in the lock. It was only Logan’s quick reflexes that kept him from getting hit in the face by a blue cavalryman.

“Heh, hey, Logan,” Roman said, red from laughing but immediately trying to look like he hadn’t just been throwing game pieces like a ten-year-old. “We were just cleaning up.”

“You have an odd definition of ‘cleaning up,’” Logan said.

“We were cleaning up a few minutes ago,” Virgil said. His cheeks were flushed from laughing, and he still had a small smile on his face. Roman was delighted; Virgil almost never smiled.

“I see,” Logan said. “Is that Risk?”

“Yeah. I thought we could play it Wednesday,” Virgil said. “We should make sure that all the pieces are here still, though.”

With that, Virgil and Roman quickly picked up the game pieces again, and the smile disappeared. Logan went out to get the piece that had been thrown at his head, and returned shortly. Once they’d found and counted all the pieces, Virgil put the box on top of his and Logan’s shared chest of drawers.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get your shoes,” Roman said to Virgil.

“Why do you have his shoes?” Logan asked.

“Because he forgot them in my room, and I forgot to bring them here when I came over,” Roman said. “See ya in a sec.”

Roman left, and came back a minute later with the black sneakers. He didn’t stay, instead offering a quick and dramatic, “Until we meet again!” and disappeared back into his own dorm.

Logan and Virgil were left alone in their dorm. “You two seem to be getting along well,” Logan said.

“Hopefully,” Virgil said.

The two stood in silence for a few minutes, both knowing what needed to come next but neither wanting to make the next move.

Finally, Logan ran a hand through his hair and said, “I want to apologize for what happened earlier. It’s been a...a rough weekend for me.”

“Me too,” Virgil said. “I was stressed out. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I think…” Logan started, then stopped, trying to formulate words in a way that would be productive and not offensive. “I think maybe next time we should try to be a little more direct about what’s upsetting us so that we don’t inadvertently cause each other harm.”

“Agreed, yeah,” Virgil said. “We need to figure out how to communicate better. Like, we seemed to get along pretty well when we were texting over the summer, so I feel like we can, I just...let’s work on it, okay? This whole thing’s been stressing me out, a lot.”

“I feel the same,” Logan said.

“Cool,” Virgil said. “You wanna rap about your problems then?”

“Excuse me?” Logan asked, perplexed.

Virgil flinched. “Nothing,” he said. “Just, this guy I knew in high school, whenever I seemed down, he’d tell me to rap about it. It was stupid, but usually it made us feel better.”

“Oh,” Logan said. “Well, if it’s worked for you in the past, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to trying it.”

“Alright,” Virgil said. “And we should stop with the ‘we’re roommates not friends’ thing. I don’t know why we’ve clung to it for so long, but it’s stupid.”

“Agreed,” Logan said. “We should try to be both roommates and friends. I’ve heard life is better that way.”

Virgil laughed, and Logan smiled a bit as well. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start.

~

Next

[welcometocoldwater]

Part Two: The Top Floor

Spencer Flores’ new apartment was on the third floor of the lodge - which was not a lodge anymore but an apartment building, with only the ground-floor rooms available for night-to-night rentals - but old names die hard. 

It had all been arranged for him, according to the department that arranged these sort of things back at the church. Room 303 came complete with a bedroom, kitchen, and porch that looked out over the lake. “Hi,” he said to the half-asleep receptionist at the front counter. She jolted awake with a snort, slapping the keyboard of her ancient computer with both hands. Zero’s ears perked up at the sound. She rubbed her eyes, narrowing them at him, shaking her head like she disapproved of whatever he just did. Honestly, she probably did. “Christ,” she grumbled, looking over her shoulder and out the window. It was now pitch black outside, the only illumination coming from the blinking traffic light at the intersection. Lucy Mendel was long gone, now, vanishing up into the mountains, where her house sat a few hundred feet back from the county route that led through the valley and towards the college. “Where the hell did you come from?” “Outside,” he said slowly. “Got lost on the interstate, did ya? ‘Ang on, I’ll get you set up in an overnight room. If we have any left. There’s a storm blowin’ in from Canada, and it forced a bunch of drivers off the road. If we don’t have any openin’s, you can head on a few miles down the road and set yourself up by Ellison College.” She began typing away on the dinosaur of the computer. Thunder rumbled overhead. The keys on the wall behind her shuddered in unison. “I actually live here, now, I think,” he said. She snapped her gum and arched an eyebrow. “My name is Spencer Flores. I think someone called and arranged an apartment for me.” She turned back to her computer, then nodded and reached behind herself for one of the keys. “Yep, all set up. D’ya’ know the rules?” He shrugged, partially because he didn’t know the rules and partially because he wasn’t sure if that was the question she’d actually asked him. Oh, excuse him, the question she’d axed him. He hadn’t been aware that there were rules. “That key’ll getcha into the lodge after we lock up. Usually, it’s nine, but we stayed open later tonight on account’a the storm. An’ between October an’ March, most people get inside by ten-thirry. You would, too, if you’re smart.” She slid the key across the counter towards him, a smile quirking up the corner of her mouth. “Rent’s three hundred a month, but it looks like someone’s takin’ care of it for ya’.” He smiled a little back and wondered where the hell she had picked up that accent. Certainly not Vermont. “Thank you,” he said, quickly, and gathered up the keys. Now he was aware of the accent he carried around, too - faint, but still there. He focused on his next words, the way the r’s flipped on themselves. “You don’t have any bags?” “They’re being sent to me tomorrow,” he assured, tugging on Zero’s leash and leading him towards the staircase. “What room?” “Three-oh-three.” “Thank you.” There were only three rooms on the top floor, but he hoped that meant they would be the largest. When he opened the door, his hands trembling slightly with exhaustion, he stepped into the completely darkened room and debated dropping onto the floor and sleeping wherever he fell. He decided against this and instead dragged his hand along the wall until it found a switch, and he flipped it with no ceremony. A bulb overhead flickered lamely for a moment before powering on. It illuminated a dismal scene: an empty living room, a kitchen with cheap plastic “tiling” and an undoubtedly empty fridge, and a hallway with two more doors: the bathroom and the bedroom, presumably. There was not much to show for three hundred a month. No couch or television, so it was safe to assume he would be sleeping on the floor until he could get some furniture. He had traveled light, the only belongings he’d hauled along being the ones he’d fit into the backpack on his shoulder. He let this drop to the floor, knelt, and unzipped it. Inside held two folding dog bowls (one with a silicone lid), a phone charger, a reusable water bottle, and several bright orange prescription bottles. He filled one of the bowls with water from the sink and removed Zero’s leash. Then he sat down with his back against one of the counters and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. Finn answered on the first ring. “Heya, Spencer. You made it alright?” “I’m in my new apartment now.” “How is it?” “Good. A little empty. But better than my parents’ house.” “Alright. Good. I’m glad.” She paused. “You don’t need me there? I can get there -“ “I’m fine, Finn.” An edge crept into his voice. “I’ve only been here thirty seconds and you panic.” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” “Besides, you’ll see me tomorrow when you drop off my boxes.” “This is true.” “I talked to Lucy Mendel earlier.” “Lucy!” Finn’s voice brightened, and Spencer winced, pulling the tinny speaker away from his ear. “I haven’t seen her in so long. How is she? Any news on Isaac?” “No. He’s still in college. She doesn’t want to upset him with anything unexpected.” “So he really knows nothing,” she murmured. He could picture her now, slumped over in her own apartment inside the renovated church a few miles outside Salem, Massachusetts, where she’d lived since she graduated high school. There was a muffed thumping sound, the groan of springs, and he knew she’d just dove onto her bed. “That sucks.” “I’m not going to worry about it. It’s nothing that concerns me, anyway.” He crossed one leg over the other and watched as Zero walked away from the water bowl and dropped heavily onto the shag carpet of the living room. Wonder if it violates my lease to rip all that up, he thought absently. “I was just calling to tell you I’m okay,” he continued. “I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to go to sleep if I can find a comfortable spot.” “Do you not have a bed?” “I don’t think so. I can sleep on the floor for one night, though. The bus passed a department store a few miles back. You and I can head back that way later. I’ve still got some cash left over from my medical payout. That’ll get me a bed and a couch.” And a grocery run, I hope. “No bed and no couch? Jee-zus, Ira sent you up to a prison.” “I’ll see you tomorrow, Finn,” he said. “Try to not lose too much sleep without me.” “I don’t know how I’ll handle it.” She snorted. “G’night, Spencer.” “Good night.” The line disconnected, and he stood back up, bracing himself against the counter like his leg might buckle - which it very well might have, six months ago. But he’d had to go through recertification at the Institute before he’d been sent out on assignment, which meant passing a physical exam, and he had - barely. He was on “limited duty”, which meant he’d been sent off to Coldwater because they considered it safe enough that he wouldn’t have to, say, go hiking through the woods alone. Like the name of the lodge, though, old habits died hard, and he stayed braced against the counter until he was convinced it wouldn’t give out under his weight. Zero found his feet and walked over, stretching one shoulder towards him like an invitation, but he stepped away from the countertop, a little heavily, like his foot was asleep, but stayed upright. “See?” he said to Zero, who twitched an ear. “I’ve got this.” He walked into the bathroom, which was cramped and dated, but blessedly clean. He tried the mirror, and it pulled away from the wall, revealing empty rows to store medications on. He popped the top off of the orange bottle in his hand, dry-swallowed one of the pills inside, and lined the bottles up on the center shelf. He clicked the mirror back into place and paused, brushing his hair back off of his face, fingers tracing the darkened patch of skin that marked where he’d scraped his forehead when he’d fallen. It had been a year and a half ago, and it had faded almost entirely, but that hadn’t stopped him from growing out his hair to hide it. Outside, thunder rumbled, and he quickly covered the scar up again as Zero whined. He shut off the bathroom lights and turned into the bedroom. It was smaller than the living room, with the same shag carpeting, but he could fit a bed in there with no problem, one for Zero, maybe a few bookshelves. He had packed up half his family’s library when he decided to take the assignment they’d offered, and his family didn’t protest as he slid book after book into cardboard boxes. He missed them now, wished he’d remembered to pack one or two into that backpack he’d brought on the bus, but all of them had been tucked away into his packing boxes, as well as his laptop. He’d thought that he could go one night without them, but he’d underestimated his ability to entertain himself for the night. It was too early to go to sleep - he’d ruined his sleep schedule during his time off - and he had no television, no books, no computer to waste time on. So he rummaged through the closet until he found a blanket and a pillow, kicked off his shoes, and sprawled out on the living room floor, gazing out the glass door that led to the porch overlooking Coldwater Lake. He gazed out across the glassy water until, finally, sleep overtook him. He drifted off.

Finn McKay was in the hallway the next morning, bright and early, better than any alarm clock as she beat her fist against the door. He groaned and shuffled towards the sound, blanket trailing across the ground. The moment the door opened, she thrust a box towards him with a broad grin. “Brought you your books,” she said, bouncing up and down on her toes. He narrowed his eyes against the sunlight in the hallway. “There’s some more stuff down in the lobby. But we’re going on a shopping trip, right?” He shrugged as she pushed her way inside. Finn was short, but made up for it with what must have been six inches of hair, gelled up into spikes that probably could have taken his eyes out. She spun around in a circle to take in the appearance of the apartment, then set the book down in the middle of the bare living room. “Right?“ she prompted, tapping her toes. “Once we get everything up here, then yes. Just give me a chance to change -“ “All of your clothes are downstairs,” she reminded. He groaned. It only took a few trips to haul all of his belongings up into the apartment, scattering the cardboard boxes through the rooms, hanging up shirts sealed up with trash bags in the closet (there were only a few that he kept in rotation, but now that the laundromat was down the street, he was considering buying more). He jotted down a list of things he needed to buy to make the apartment livable, at least - bed, mattress, kitchen table and chairs, a bookshelf to get rid of all the damn boxes. A couch and television could come later, after the first paycheck from his assignment rolled in. He didn’t want to blow all his money at once, and anyway, he was nearly certain he’d be spending most of his time at Lucy Mendel’s cafe. He looked about, puffing out his chest a little. There was still unpacking to be done, but hey, it was another step towards making the space a little more his. “That’s everything, isn’t it?” Finn asked, unceremoniously dropping a box onto the ground. Dust flew up from the ground. He added vacuum to his list. “We can go shopping now?” “We can go shopping now,” he agreed. She broke into a broad grin. “Great! There’s an Ikea just a few miles down the highway, and I bet you could find a lot of cheap furniture there - come on, let’s go -“ “Finn,” he insisted as she grabbed his arm, “this isn’t the smartest idea - someone could see you -“ She shrugged and closed her eyes, and the apartment vanished. Spencer staggered away, his stomach swimming, and braced himself against the door of the car now directly to his right. The sunlight was dazzling, and the faint hum of highway traffic was now just a few feet behind him. The massive gray building loomed down in front of them, the blue-and-gold logo looking big enough to crush them. “Hell, Finn,” he hissed through gritted teeth, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “a little warning would be appreciated next time.” “You’re fine,” she scoffed. She unwedged herself from the position in which she’d appeared, pinned between a car and the rear-view mirror of its neighbor. “Hurry up.” “What’s your rush?” “I love Ikea. There’s gotta be something I didn’t realize I need in there.” She stuck out her tongue at him, popped out into the street, and set off towards the entrance at a jog. He let out another groan, trying to assure himself that he wasn’t going to throw up the moment he walked away from the car. Then, he balanced on his toes, craning his neck to see if anybody had noticed the two twenty-something-year-olds emerging from the space between two cars. Finn liked to play fast and loose with the secrecy that had been so ingrained in them since day one, and he was certain that someday, she’d miss the mark and appear in the middle of a crowded shopping mall, or onstage at a concert she was trying to sneak into, and she’d blow the cover for the entire Institute. But for today, she would make it a hell of a lot easier to get this furniture up three flights of stairs. Satisfied that nobody had seen them, he stepped out into the street behind her.

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[marcuspedersen-nz]

2- The White Mountain

(by Ivy Snow)

It was the morning of the 24th of October 2040, a beautiful spring day after the great wash of last night’s rain. At a little after 9:30 a.m. I left the car at Marsden and went the rest of the way on foot. It was a routine job for our most lucrative client, the Accident Compensation Corporation, which is obliged to assist the ailing but at the same time balance its books. People like Joe Rollins asked for more than their fair share, in a crumbling economic landscape he wanted to become a lifer on perpetual support. My task was to make sure he never got on the books, by hook or by crook, and it was to this end that I paid him a visit that morning.

I parked the car on the New River Flat, accessed by a small lane on the western side of Card Creek Bridge. It was about four kilometres from there to his caravan, and I used the old tramway to access his property. I changed from my office clothes into khaki elasto-wave field gear before setting out, swapping high heels for combat boots, and I swallowed down a few comforting refreshers before tucking my hipflask into the inside pocket of my camo jacket. I loaded and holstered my 9mm pistol, safety on, check, and packed into my satchel some spare ammo, check, binoculars, check, camera, check, muesli bars, check, phone into pocket, check. I donned my sunglasses, tied back my hair, and into the wild I went.

I wasn’t expecting trouble, but one should always be prepared for reversals in fortune. Only those who are prepared can take full advantage of opportunities. Joe Rollins was listed as an amber alert, which meant he wasn’t considered to be actually dangerous, but he wasn’t exactly non-threatening either. The word volatile appeared more than once in his file, as did the phrase, “Approach with caution.”

The New River was in medium-high flow from yesterday’s downpour, so I crossed by the wire, pausing for a moment halfway to admire the surge of the dirty brown water. On a normal day it would barely reach above my ankles, and it usually had quite slimy, sluggish water, with green algae and very slippery rocks. It used to be clean, but like all of our waterways during the gold boom there was no consideration for keeping New Zealand green. Of course the gold boom wasn’t to blame, because if it hadn’t been gold it would have been something else. The policies that allowed such reckless behaviour were already in place.

When the global economy nose-dived 30 years ago, and America regained its footing over China as the global power, green was seen as a luxury we could no longer afford, when actually it was the only thing that might have built a foundation strong enough to sustain real growth and eventual recovery. Instead of this, rotten to the core, these were the policies we were dealt. The politicians said, “Why build an infrastructure based on sustainability when it’s cheaper to take what’s needed now?” and I was at the protest marches but there was not much interest in looking after the environment when the only thing people cared about was maintaining their unsustainable lifestyle.

Once across the river there were multiple tracks where people had taken quad-bikes or trail bikes various ways around to avoid swampy muddy patches, but they all ended up going in the same direction. I followed one of the tracks until it merged with the old tramway, and when I arrived at the locked gate of Joe’s neighbour’s property, with a sign saying, “Keep Out,” I simply jumped over it and carried on. I knew the property owner and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind.

About a hundred years ago the tramway had been used for logging large native trees, a practice which had been banned for almost 20 years from the 1990s. These days of course they used helicopters to target the best trees, that is, rimu, which produces a very beautiful red timber. They can take them pretty much as they please, but at least it’s better than clear felling.

There was one part of the tramway where the old sleepers were still visible, as it climbed through a cutting in the hill to access the high tableland from the river flat. Once I had reached the higher ground I emerged from the bush into the open air and passed through a bog, with sphagnum moss on either side of the track and stunted gorse. It was very wet and muddy from all the rain, with grey warblers intermittently calling and the sun shining like there was nothing wrong in the world. I saw a hawk overhead, and several plump wood pigeons flew by, also a weka scuttled away; a brown ground bird about the size of a chicken.

After a couple of kilometres the way became more track-like as it began its slow descent through the bush towards the mouth of No Name Creek. But the track didn’t go all the way to the old tramway’s termination, instead it terminated where it met the four-wheel drive track that led up to Joe’s place, with the rest of the tramway reclaimed by bush. I followed the four-wheel drive track, coming under the power lines which took electricity from the dam at Kumara to Greymouth, and so I knew I was almost there. Rather than emerging again out into the open, I cut across by a foot track through the bush to the old gold workings dating from the 1860s, and came up onto the track at Joe’s place.

It was there that I almost ran into him. I was being cautious but moving quickly, and I almost stepped out right in front of him, apparently strolling about on a morning walk. Luckily I’m quite limber for a woman of my age, and I’ve always had an ability to somehow merge into the shadows, which is why I’m so good at this work. I froze, stepped back quietly, and shrank into the fernery without arousing his suspicion. I guess he was stoned anyway, and that would have helped my position. He limped past oblivious of how close we had come to meeting.

I could almost feel sorry for the guy, watching him enjoy nature, a far cry from the loser he appeared on paper. He was slightly chubby, quite misshapen, in his early fifties, with short brown hair and a pleasant but not handsome red face; dressed in loose denim trousers and a cream and orange cotton-brush shirt. Sure, on paper ACC had an obligation to take care of people like him, with his crooked hip and no education or means of getting a decent income. But if they made it too easy, then everybody would get on it, and the country just couldn’t afford it. At least by hiring me it was a good way of testing who should really be deserving of getting on the books.

At the end of the day, after an accident, we would all like to be supported at the level of income we were used to before our lives were altered irrecoverably. The laws at the time of his accident just hadn’t taken into account the downfall of the country’s economy as a whole. Also, who was to say that he could have sustained that kind of lifestyle even if he hadn’t had the accident? The processing plant he had worked for had long since closed down, and why should he be allowed ongoing support and a taxpayer funded payout in the form of compensation when all of his co-workers had lost their jobs, and none them got anything except for meagre redundancy payments?

After he walked by I made myself comfortable a bit further back in the bush, ate a muesli bar, downed with a drop of Ringo. I find gin is the best refresher for fieldwork. I waited till he had returned back up the track, and then slowly followed behind to a good viewing place I had used before, where I took a few photos of him pottering about his humble abode. Poor Joe had been forced by the bank to give up his house while pursuing his court case against ACC, and so he had moved out here to the worthless piece of land he had no doubt imagined would one day be his place of retirement, that is, in a distant future where he could afford to build on it, not like this.

He had cut a flat area out of the bush and moved a caravan onto it, which was his home. Despite the heavy power lines being so close there was no supply of electricity to the property, no amenities, so he had to rely on solar panels, rainwater, and a long drop toilet. It was a dump. But it was also very nice and peaceful with the surrounding bush. The warblers sang, the tomtits sang. I could hear bellbirds in the distance, and a tui took up a perch on a branch momentarily, gave a few shrill grunts and then flew away again. In its own way it was very beautiful. It was a pity that it was wasted on a no hoper like Joe who lived in squalor, smoking pot and complaining to ACC.

He eventually got into his Range Rover, spluttered pollution into the pristine surroundings, and drove down his steep winding driveway onto the track that led to Noname Road and Marsden. It was just as I had been expecting, for I had inside information that he had an appointment with his doctor at 11 o’clock, to receive yet another examination ahead of his meeting next week with his lawyer and case reviewer, who was flying down from Auckland on behalf of ACC. That was my chance. I waited for a few minutes after I could no longer hear the diesel engine driving off in the distance, noting the time as 10:45, and with a gulp from the hipflask just because I could, and it did me no harm, I went down and entered the premises.

All about the gravelled pad were stacks of things like building materials that I presumed he believed would one day come in handy. There were also several marijuana plants growing in buckets, which I documented because it was still illegal. Over the back half of the caravan he had built a kind of a shed-like shelter, probably to keep the noise of the rain off the caravan’s roof, I thought, because that’s what would annoy me. There was guttering to collect water into three 40 gallon drums, but these did not serve as his water supply; I noted a black polyethylene hose coming out of the bush from the ridge above on the southern side of the pad. He must have found a spring, or at least a reliable stream to get his water from.

The inside of the caravan was very simple and tidy, with his morning dishes washed and stacked neatly upon a small formica bench. It was more spacious than I would have given it credit for, with a double-bed and a small wooden table with his smoking paraphernalia upon it. I took photos, for the sake of it, but nobody really cared about that. I quickly looked through the cupboard, not expecting to find it so soon, but I pulled out a box full of papers and knew that I had struck the jackpot. Here were all of his precious papers, and my job was to take photographs of several of them, and to remove a select few, ahead of his meeting with ACC.

That done, I replaced the box just as I had found it, tucked in below some blankets. But as I replaced it, I noticed several other items there, between the blankets above the box. I took out a Barbie doll, and next to it was an old-fashioned Lenovo tablet, with flower and star stickers on it like something that a young girl might do. It was strange, because I felt like I had seen them before, almost like déjà vu, but I knew from his records that Joe didn’t have a daughter.

I turned on the tablet, and the screen saver showed a white mountain with three distinct peaks, which looked familiar but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It asked for a pin, and I couldn’t tell you the number, but I entered the number, and it wasn’t simply matter of entering four zeros. Without thinking I entered a four digit combination, and suddenly the whole caravan dipped and sank, then bobbed up again like a cork in a pool of water. I braced myself, but then I knew, there was no earthquake, nothing was shaking, there were flashes like forked lightning forming across the sides of my vision.

It was very bad timing. They call it an ocular migraine. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the internet. There’s no definite reason for why it occurs or what triggers it, except perhaps stress, or certain foods, but I knew I had at least one way of alleviating it. I took a good swig of juniper berry juice, which doesn’t have a scientific basis as a cure, but it sure does help against the sense of surging panic when my reality becomes altered like this.

It’s hard to describe, but the interior of the caravan appeared like a hazy plain, like a wasteland, as sun streaks entered through the window leaving searing imprints on my eyes. I put my sunglasses back on and prepared to go. But as I looked around through the contrast of darkness and light, I imagined that high above the wasteland stood the beautiful mountain with three snowy peaks. I knew that I had seen the mountain before but I couldn’t think where. I mean, before seeing it on the tablet, which I’m not sure even existed. I think I must have seen the mountain in a dream because it made me feel a sense of calm and peace, like heaven. As I looked out the window at the ridge above the eastern side of the caravan, I could imagine that the mountain really existed there, at the base of a wasteland on the other side of the ridgeline. I wasn’t in my right mind.

Just then, as though things couldn’t get worse, I heard the sound of an approaching diesel engine. Was Joe returning so soon? It sounded like his car. Or maybe someone was visiting, but either way, I had to get out of there very quickly, which I managed to do, despite the headache that always follows these episodes coming on quite strongly.

I recovered my safe viewing place and lay down, sipping gin as Joe drove up. He went inside, but came out again a moment later, and by the way he slammed the caravan door I guessed there was something upsetting him. I was worried that I might have left something behind in my haste and lack of coordinated vision, but I could hardly make him out to see what he was doing. I waited for a while, praying that he wasn’t searching me out, and with the last of my gin gone I waited for another half hour before he drove away again. Then I too quietly made my way out of there, as my sight began to come back to me.

That was “Chapter Two” of The Woman in the Brown Hat, a sci-fi fantasy detective novel by Marcus Pedersen.

Available on Amazon as an e-book and paper book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08RW59M7G

For more information see: https://www.facebook.com/ToroPopularFiction

To rate or review go to: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56531729-the-woman-in-the-brown-hat

[loisinherlane]

Title: Types of Love

Summary: Nico lowered his eyes to his bedspread, suddenly acutely aware that he hadn’t replaced his Mythomagic comforter when he’d moved out of his dad’s house. He’d been too lazy to buy another, especially since his was still perfectly good. His soulmates usually thought it was kind of funny. His romantic partners, if they ever made it inside of Nico’s bedroom, knew Nico was a nerd and expected no less. At this moment, Nico wished he had something a little nicer. His cheeks grew red, stomach fluttering in that pleasant way only Will could give him, and for a moment, he considered the idea that Will might return his feelings. But he should have known better. They were soulmates. Will just got up and left.//In a world where romance means less than friendships, Nico falls in love with his platonic soulmate Will Solace and complicates his whole life.

Notes: This is an incredibly self-indulgent, complicated universe that probably has a ton of plot holes. Don’t think about it too hard. If you really have a question, feel free to ask, but I’ll probably be pulling the answer out of my ass. Anyway, to summarize the universe: Everyone has four platonic soulmates. Soulmate marks appear on the first place where soulmates touch. Because of platonic soulmates, in this universe, platonic love is valued over romantic love, meaning that “more than lovers” is probably a more likely phrase than “more than friends.” Romantic love isn’t uncommon. People go through two or three long-term relationships or marriages in their life, usually. Some people marry a soulmate and raise children together, thus creating a romanceless marriage. The nuclear family unit is very uncommon. The End.

Another minor note is that to clean up family ties, I made Persephone Hazel’s biological mother.Sorry about any grammatical or spelling errors. I've done as much editing as I can stand alone, but both of my normal betas were busy with NaNoWriMo (as was I), so it's not been looked as extensively as most of my work. Expect updates on December 14th, January 1st, and January 24th.

Saturday, November 11th, 2017

Nico would be the first to admit he’d never had much control of his mouth. His soulmates would be the second, third, fourth, and fifth, and they’d fight over who said it first, as it was kind of obvious. He was a bit of an asshole sometimes, mainly because he didn’t think before he spoke. It had always gotten him into trouble. Usually of the “has no respect for authority” kind.

“I’m in love with you.”

Nico may have been the first in the world to ever get into trouble for telling his soulmate he loved him.

Okay, sure, in love is different than love. In love was romantic, a relationship of one’s own creation and not the predestined, pure love between soulmates. And, sure, there were a ton of people in the world who thought romantic relationships were inherently lesser than platonic relationships. So maybe Nico definitely should have known better than to confess his non-platonic feelings, but to be fair, Nico hadn’t intended it. Will had just beaten him at Mario Kart, and his stupid face was stupidly attractive--summer always lingered in his skin, leaving him bright, freckles all across his face and down his neck, and his hair had some lighter streaks, and he was smiling . It was disgusting, and frankly, who could blame Nico for being in love with someone like that?

“What?”

Maybe Nico should have prefaced that with something. Maybe he could have added that it didn’t change the fact that Will was his soulmate , and Nico never, ever wanted to give that up. Will was and would always be as important as Hazel, Reyna, and Jason, and just because he was in love with Will didn’t mean he didn’t lovehim.

Nico wasn’t exactly good with people. His soulmates had always come naturally to him. Romantic relationships . . . well, Will had always helped him traverse those, and Will couldn’t tell him what to say right then. Either shocked that he’d had the courage to say anything, or maybe just reeling from the way Will’s face crumpled, how devastated he looked, Nico said nothing. He stared blankly as Will dropped the Gamecube controller on Nico’s bed. Will looked at Nico, waiting for some sign that he was joking or something. Nico lowered his eyes to his bedspread, suddenly acutely aware that he hadn’t replaced his Mythomagic comforter when he’d moved out of his dad’s house. He’d been too lazy to buy another, especially since his was still perfectly good. His soulmates usually thought it was kind of funny. His romantic partners, if they ever made it inside of Nico’s bedroom, knew Nico was a nerd and expected no less. At this moment, Nico wished he had something a little nicer. His cheeks grew red, stomach fluttering in that pleasant way only Will could give him, and for a moment, he considered the idea that Will might return his feelings.

But he should have known better. They were soulmates. Will just got up and left.

That in and of itself wasn’t unusual for Nico’s experience with romance. But for a soulmate? It really sucked. And it sucked even more than this time Nico couldn’t turn to Will.

-

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Of his four soulmates, Nico had taken the longest to click with Will.

Hazel was Nico’s baby sister. Growing up side by side, their soulmateship was easy to develop, from the time Nico allowed her to do his hair to the time Hazel punched the boy who stole Nico’s Mythomagic cards on the playground. Though they had sibling spats, they were impossibly close, and Nico knew he wouldn’t trade their relationship for a thing in the world. Reyna was the next Nico met, at fourteen in the hallway on his first day of high school. Reyna was the sophomore student president, and being busy with the duties that entailed, she was late to class. Nico just overslept. They bumped into each other when Nico decided he could totally walk down the halls with his eyes closed, since it was just a square, and for some reason, they’d stuck together since. Jason and Nico joined up as long-suffering partners in their junior biology class. Nico had steady relationships with three out of four soulmates by eighteen, and he knew he was lucky in that respect. He’d seen how it took time for his soulmates’ soulmateships to settle in.

When he met Will at nineteen, he’d kind of expected it to go the same way. Well, not kind of. He had. Where his other soulmates accepted Nico’s idiosyncrasies and unsociability, Will didn’t. Will had always been special like that.

They met on campus, late afternoon as Nico was walking to his car after class and Will was playing Ultimate Frisbee on one of the fields. Nico had just enough time to look over and think, “Damn, that guy is hot,” before the frisbee smacked into the side of his head.

This, of course, meant that Will, as the only nursing student of the bunch, though he'd hardly taken any medically inclined classes yet, was elected to check out the innocent bystander and make sure their game hadn't ended in manslaughter.

“Shit, shit, shit, sorry, shit,” was all Nico heard as he sat up. When had he landed on the ground? He reached for his head where a lump was already forming, and, ow, that was tender. Nico exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. Oh. The hot guy was right there.

“Do you know your name?” the guy asked. Nico eyed the freckles trailing over his bare arms, brown skin glowing in the afternoon sun. Suddenly, those arms shifted, a hand grabbing onto the back of his neck. “Oh, no, oh, shit, okay. What’s today’s date? Can you speak? Are you alive?”

“Uh, I’m breathing,” said Nico.

The guy exhaled. “Oh, thank god. Okay. I think I need to talk you to the campus clinic. You got smacked pretty darn hard. Left a goose egg. And I’m doing so hot on the concussion check myself.” He reached to touch the bump on Nico’s head lightly. Nico groaned.

“I have to get home,” he said.

Hot-Freckles stared. “You are not driving home without a concussion check.”

“My sister’s waiting,” Nico protested.

“And she’ll be waiting in a hospital if you have a concussion and get behind the wheel,” Hot-Freckles said. “I like to think I’m pretty easy-going, but I’m not letting up on this one. You’re coming with me.” He grabbed Nico by the shoulder and yanked him without concern for if that would injure him further. The motion shook Nico’s head, and he groaned again, stumbling into Hot-Freckles’ side.

Some of the other players came running down the hill. “What’s going on, Will?”

Hot-Freckles--Will--said, “I think he has a concussion. I’m going to take him to the clinic. Y’all can keep playing, but try not to hit anyone else.”

“I need to go home,” Nico said. The players exchanged a look.

“Yeah. I think you need to take him. See you.”

It seemed like no time at all until they arrived at the campus clinic. If Nico filled out any paperwork, he didn’t remember it. Mainly, he was leaning up against the hot freckled guy, grabbing onto his arms and chest to brace himself. Yes, to brace himself. Not to feel him up or anything.

“So what happened to Mr. di Angelo today?” the nurse asked. She addressed Will, probably because Nico was wavering even as he sat on the bed in the exam room. Will reached to steady him.

“I was playing Ultimate Frisbee with my friends, and we kind of-- Well, the frisbee smacked him upside the head,” he said. He had a Southern twang to his voice, kind of like Hazel did, but different. Nico really liked it.

The nurse raised her perfect brows. “Mm. Likely a concussion, then. Let’s see.” She moved to Nico’s side and paused. “That’s an interesting spot for a soulmate mark.”

Nico stopped. “Wuh?”

“The soulmate mark. On your neck,” she said. Nico paused. He had Hazel’s mark on his finger, where she’d grabbed it in the hospital as a baby. Reyna’s was on his chest. Jason’s was on his back. He didn’t have one on his neck.

Will leaned over, and his blue eyes grew wide. “Oh. Well, allbedamned.” He lifted his hand and admired the Niccolò Lorenzo di Angelo across the side of his palm. He kindly held it out for Nico to see. Nico kindly leaned over and puked across his shirt.

The rest was kind of a blur. Will was given a shirt to change into, from one of the other nurses. Nico vaguely remembered Will asking a lot of questions, as he was studying to be a nurse and this was right up his alley. After some tests, the nurse agreed it was probably a concussion, and with some instructions for rest, Nico was sent home.

“Do you need a ride? I live on campus, but I have a car,” Will said as they walked out of the clinic.

“You’re being pretty nice to a guy who just puked on you,” Nico said, still holding his head.

Will gave a crooked grin. “Well, we are soulmates, apparently. Though I got to say, I hope you don’t puke on your soulmates all that often.”

“Only Hazel. And she’s my sister,” Nico joked. Will smiled and helped Nico call her for a ride home, adding his number in there as well.

Maybe it meant something that Nico was checking Will out before he’d learned they were soulmates. As soon as he knew, he packed up any attraction and tucked it away in a box never to be opened. Nico moved on to other guys, and Will became a normal part of his life as his soulmate, completely platonic.

-

Thursday, November 23rd, 2017

In spite of Nico’s failure to get in touch with Will over the course of the week, he wasn't planning to miss out on Thanksgiving. Their little bunch (consisting of Hazel, Reyna, Jason, Piper, Leo, Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil) always had their Thanksgiving meal in the bowling alley Cecil’s family owned, a tradition started in college when none of them could afford to fly home for Thanksgiving break, and Nico and Hazel’s parents decided Thanksgiving was the best time for their anniversary cruise. It had a strange vibe, being empty save for them, and having an entire meal spread between all of the tables at the lanes made it even stranger. They were exactly the right people to enjoy this sort of thing.

The issue was that this was Cecil’s family’s bowling alley, and Cecil was Will’s soulmate. Nico was sure if Will didn't want him there, Cecil would uninvite him. But then again, most of the others going we're only known through Nico--Hazel and Lou were soulmates as well, but--

No one had said anything. Nico had to assume he was still welcome.

“Did you remember the sweet potatoes?” Hazel asked from the kitchen of their townhouse. She had a pile of dishes in her arms, and her golden hair bounced every time she turned her hair, landing lightly on her red scarf.

“Uh, you're carrying them,” Nico said, gathering up his own stack.

Hazel peered down. “Oh. Shouldn't you put on a coat?” she asked, glancing over her brother, dressed only in a black sweatshirt and jeans.

“We're just loading the car,” he said.

“But you complain if it's less than 60 degrees. Last year, you tried to make Will carry you around to keep you warm.”

Nico tended at the mention of Will but tried to play it off as adjusting his pile. “Will’s from Texas. He's always cold. Sharing body heat is kindness,” he replied.

Hazel snorted. “You're from Italy. And we grew up in New Orleans. Besides, Will’s not as whiny as you are when it comes to the cold.”

Nico stuck out his tongue and raced to the door, turning the handle with his knee. Hazel was right. The cool air of New England in November was more than he wanted to handle, not that he would admit it. Still, she seemed to know, staring at him as they placed the dishes on the back floorboard.

“Go get your coat and grab the keys,” she ordered, leaning up against Nico’s car.

Nico was suddenly aware of how he'd crossed his arms over his chest, and he clamped them to his side. “I'm only getting it in case Will gets cold and wants to borrow it,” he lied.

“Sure,” Hazel said.

Will would have no need to borrow his coat. Inside the bowling alley, it was a toasty 75, a much needed change from last year.

“Is this warm enough for you, Nico?” Cecil called from behind the counter when he walked.

“Is this warm enough for Will?” he asked automatically. Will, standing next to Cecil, was suddenly very interested in examining the bowling shoes, which was weird, because most years he complained about how unsanitary sharing shoes with so many was until Lou or Cecil told him to shut up and buy his own. Cecil, thankfully, didn't notice, and returned to flipping on all the lights.

“Ah! It burns!” Lou Ellen cried as she ducked underneath a table, abandoning her Addams family-style tablecloth half-rolled.

Hazel giggled and pushed a curl out of her face. “Are Jason and them not here yet?” she asked.

“Nah,” Cecil said. “Go ahead and spread the food on the concessions stand. We installed a heated counter, so I'm hoping it will be useful.”

“Leo was tinkering again,” Lou Ellen explained.

Nico nodded, eyes still locked on Will, still determined not to look at him. He sighed and helped Hazel set up the food.

Lou Ellen slid out from under the table and pulled Hazel into a hug. “Mm. Smells delicious. That's why you two are always on cooking duty,” she said brightly.

“Nico just hates to clean,” Hazel said. Those two seemed prepared to dive into conversation, which was the perfect opportunity for Nico to make his way back towards Will. If he could just--

“What's up, buttercups, I brought blacklights!”

Valdez .

Jason, Leo, and Piper walked into the alley cheerfully, carrying some boxes full of god-knows-what, with Valdez running the show.

“Hey, Nico!” Piper said brightly, plopping her vegan cake down. Sloppy frosting letters spelled, “Fuck the Pilgrims, Native American Appreciation Day.” She paused and placed her hand flat on the counter. “Is this--?”

“Leo.”

“Ah.” Piper moved the cake to an aisle table instead. “So Jason told me you got a promotion.”

“Um--”

“Congratulations,” she said brightly, and curse Jason for getting an incredibly nice girlfriend that Nico actually respected so he couldn't run off in the middle of a conversation. Where was Will now? Cecil was still by the counter, but he-- “--though I don't get your desire to spend more time around dead bodies.”

“Ha. Yeah,” Nico said.

Piper furrowed her brow. “Hey--”

“Pipes! Can you help me with this?”

Piper turned to her boyfriend. “Oh. Yeah, just a sec.”

Then she was gone. Great. Nico was free. Now to find Will.

“Nico.”

Ugh .

“Hi, Reyna,” Nico said, very careful to ensure his tone was even. Reyna could pick up on the slightest issue, and he could not risk acting any out of the ordinary around. She was dressed nicely, hair pulled back into a bun, a button-up, lipstick, the whole nines. She still looked like she could murder ten men in fifteen seconds. “You look nice. What did you bring?”

“The knife,” she said coolly, reaching into her purse. “Cecil texted me and said they broke their turkey-carving knife, so--”

“How?”

“No clue.” Reyna tucked it back into a hidden pocket, probably with her other secret weapons. “Oh, and I made coconut pudding.”

“Yum,” Nico said.

Reyna nodded. Then, a pause, and she turned to look at him, the green flecks in her eyes suddenly piercing. “Are you--?”

“Hey, everyone’s here? Let’s eat!” Cecil yelled, tossing the piles of bowling shoes to the side.

“Please, wash your hands,” came Will’s voice from somewhere in the chaos. Nico craned his head frantically. It was no use. Everyone crowded around the table, filling their plates, and suddenly they were down at the lanes, same as ever. Reyna, Hazel, and Nico sat at one table, next to them, Jason, Leo, and Piper, and then at the other end, Cecil, Lou Ellen, and Will. Damn it. Why did they always set up like this?

“We’re not going to bowl while we eat again, are we?” Jason asked. Nico heard Will say something, but he couldn’t decipher what it was. Jason turned around from his table to face him. Why could Jason talk to Will when Nico couldn’t?

“So how’s work, Reyna?” Hazel asked brightly from her seat beside Nico. On the other side of the table, Reyna perked up.

“I’m teaching a new class. You should come. It’s great for the core, and--”

There was Will, up to get dessert. Perfect. Nico slid out of his seat.

“Hey, mister, you eat your meal before dessert!” Hazel scolded, a grin spreading across her lips. Nico looked to her, then his plate.

“I dropped my fork,” he said as he grabbed his fork from his plate and threw it to the ground. Hazel and Reyna looked in disbelief. He took that opportunity to sidle over to the counter.

“Will.”

Will glanced up from the plate of panna cotta he’d just grabbed. Nico couldn’t help but smile. Will loved panna cotta. That was why Nico made it every year.

“It has berries on top. It’s healthy,” he defended, as if that’s what Nico had come over to discuss.

“I’m not the one who gives the health lectures,” he said.

Will looked him over. “No kidding. Have you been sleeping?”

Not well, Nico thought. He was sure the bags under his eyes from college had returned full-force. It was a wonder no one else had commented on it, but Nico did go through spells of insomnia. Will was the one who noticed when it got really bad. “If by sleep, you mean laying in bed, uh, no.”

The words hung between them, half-natural banter and half-pure discomfort.

Will pressed his lips together and lowered his eyes, blond lashes gleaming against his brown skin.

“Will,” Nico said, breathy, loving, in love.

“Oh, no. I dropped my fork,” Will said and dropped his fork. He walked off to get another.

-

Thursday, November 25, 2012

“Nico! We’re Skyping Mom and Dad! Get in here!” Hazel yelled. She was curled up in the computer chair, knees in fuzzy pajama pants up to her chest, socks sliding across the leather seat. At only 8:30, it was pretty early for bed, but Thanksgiving was a tiring affair, especially when it dissolved into a bowling tournament halfway through.

Nico made a gurgling sound that roughly translated to, “I’m coming!”

“He’s brushing his teeth,” Hazel told their parents.

“Of course he is. He knew we were going to call,” Persephone di Angelo-Levesque sighed. Her hair was adorned with a variety of small flowers woven into her braid, and she was picking them out and tossing them at her husband, waiting for some sort of reaction. Hades made no move.

Hazel smiled. “He said he has to get the taste of Will’s cookies out of his mouth. Will said it was his grandma’s recipe, but . . . . Well, as Nico said, they tasted like he dug them out of the garbage.”

Nico stuck his head out of the bathroom and made another unintelligible sound, probably defending his soulmate (even though the cookies were truly disgusting), toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

“Go away. You’re foaming at the mouth,” Hazel said.

Nico rolled his eyes. On the screen, Persephone smiled at her daughter. “Are you sure you’re the little sister?”

A few moments later, Nico came out of the bathroom and pulled up another chair, leaning close to Hazel to see. “What couldn’t wait until morning?” he asked.

Hades stared. “Since when are you awake in the morning?”

Hazel laughed.

“Shut up,” said Nico, ears burning red.

“Settle down,” Persephone said, staring down at her stepson. “We didn’t call you to argue.”

“Darn. That’s what I put in my planner,” Hazel sighed, snapping her fingers.

Persephone frowned. “You’re spending too much time with your brother.”

“Soulmates. She gets me,” Nico said, pulling Hazel underneath his arm and ruffling her hair.

She snorted and got him back, though his dark hair was already messy. “Ha--I really don’t. You’re a weird one, brother.”

Nico stuck his tongue and licked her cheek, and she screeched until their parents cleared their throats.

“I would have thought you’d be a little less energetic after spending all day with your friends,” Persephone remarked.

Hazel perked up. “Oh, it was great! We went to Cecil--that’s Will and Lou’s roommate. They’re all soulmates--anyway, we went to his family’s bowling alley, because they don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving, but business is slow so they still the close the place. We bowled the whole time. Jason showed up later, but Piper and Leo couldn’t make it. Reyna had to work. But we’re thinking maybe we’ll make it a tradition. Most of them said they’ve never been able to go home for Thanksgiving”--“Unlike us,” Nico interrupted, staring at their parents pointedly--“so this was a nice change.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Hades said.

“So did we. You’ve never lived until you’ve had Puerto Rican food on Thanksgiving,” Persephone said.

“Then we’ll have to ask Reyna next year,” Nico said.

Hades pursed his lips. “So you’re really not coming home for Thanksgiving next year?”

Nico crossed his arms. “Don’t put this on us. You’re the ones who decided to go on a trip and leave us to starve.”

“You can cook, Nico,” Persephone said.

“Well, I don’t like to.”

“What matters is,” Hazel interjected, “we had a good time. And we’ll be home for Christmas, like always.”

“Like always,” Hades echoed, giving his son a look.

The di Angelo-Levesque family talk continued until about ten, when Hazel started yawning, head falling onto Nico’s shoulders.

“I think that means it’s time to say goodbye. Happy Thanksgiving,” Persephone said, hair now free of all flowers.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Hazel and Nico replied. The call dropped, and for a moment, they just leaned against each other.

“Those cookies Will made were so bad,” Hazel said.

Nico laughed. “Yeah. He can’t cook.”

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” she said. “Honestly, thank you for bringing him into my life, because cute boys are always welcome.”

“Hazel!” Nico stared at her.

She shrugged. “Just saying. Most of the cute boys you introduce me to are your dates. This one’s at least bi and single.”

“You are not dating Will,” he said.

“You can’t stop me.”

“You’re both my soulmates. You can’t date each other,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hazel, taking that as a challenge, sat up. “Jason and Piper are dating, and Leo’s their soulmate.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not though,” Hazel said, rolling her eyes and leaning back up against his arm. “Don’t worry, though. Will’s not his type.”

Nico snickered. “No. His mom is.”

She jerked away. “That is totally unfair! Naomi Solace is an inspirational black woman breaking barriers in country music--”

“--and apparently really hot according to you, Lou, and Reyna,” Nico replied.

She huffed. “Well. I really couldn’t date him then. It’d be too weird.”

“To be hot for his mom?”

“Nico!”

She glared, then snatched the skull ring off of his finger and ran down the hall. Nico sighed and leaned back in the chair, too tired to chase her. It didn’t really matter. She’d return it in the morning. After a moment, he rose from his seat and moved towards his bedroom.

Hazel wasn’t interested in Will, he reminded himself.

Why did the thought even bother him?

-

Thursday, November 30, 2017

“Why are you here?”

The question was directed at Reyna and Jason, who were gathered at the kitchen table with Hazel, the only one who actually lived there. Nico tossed his coat onto the rack as he leveled his soulmates with a cool stare, hoping that would get them to confess their scheme. It didn’t work. Reyna was the master of the cool stare, and Jason wasn’t wearing his glasses. He couldn’t see shit without his glasses.

“This is an intervention,” Reyna said.

Nico’s face was blank.

“Maybe it should be about all his wine bottles. I mean, damn, Nico, you’ve only been drinking for four years. How many do you need?” Jason asked, staring at the shelf to the side.

Nico rolled his eyes. “I inherited that from my mom, dumbass. And I’ve been drinking since I was sixteen.”

“That’s not legal in America.”

“I’m Italian.”

“You’re still in America.”

“This is not the point,” Reyna interrupted, voice sharp. Hazel nodded her support. Jason held his hands up in surrender, but Nico didn’t budge. “We’re here to talk about Will.”

Nico stiffened. “What about Will?” He kept his voice as level as he could.

“What the hell was going on at Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nico wondered if it would seem too coincidental if he said he forgot something at work. Of course it would. They weren’t going to let him get away.

“Nico, you and Will are normally joined at the hip when you get together. I know your hours don’t line up well. I’ve never seen you avoid each other like that,” Hazel said, as soft and gentle as ever, and dammit Nico hated that. It was hard not to talk to her when she used that tone.

Jason bit his lip, stretching the scar across it a little wider. “You weren’t avoiding him, though,” he said. “You tried to talk to him, didn’t you?”

Damn it. He really wasn’t getting out of this one.

Nico sighed and took a seat in the remaining chair. His soulmates perked up.

“I’m in love with Will,” he said.

Hazel and Reyna’s faces contorted, a curled lip, scrunched nose, wide eyes. Jason remained impassive.

“Look, I know it’s--” He stopped, not really having a defense. “I’m going to get over him. I couldn’t help it. But it’s not like-- He’s still my soulmate, and I thought-- Fuck.” Nico sighed and buried his head in his hands. Hazel reached to pat his shoulder.

“You know, not what I expected,” Reyna said, as awkward and clunky as she ever was when it came to emotions. Jason and Hazel gave her a look for interrupting. Nico adored her. He didn’t do this emotional shit either.

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Hazel admitted. “You never said a thing to me. Have you been struggling with this for a while? Oh, Nico.” She threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders, leaning against him.

“It’s nothing. Will’s just hurt, okay? He’ll get over it, I guess,” Nico said, tugging himself from Hazel’s hold. He wasn’t convinced. Will hadn’t even spoken to him since. But he couldn’t hold out forever. They were soulmates.

Reyna raised her brows and made a disbelieving noise. “I don’t know. If you told me you were in love with me, I’d--”

“We’re both gay,” Nico said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Okay. If Hazel told me she was in love with me, I’d be pretty uncomfortable. I mean, we’re beyond that,” she said, clasping her hands on the table. She lowered her eyes. “My point is that it would be rather . . . insulting.”

“I didn’t mean to insult him,” Nico said.

“No one said you did.” Hazel tried to defuse the situation.

Nico huffed. “It’s not my fault he was just being so cute, and, god, I was quiet about it for a year, so it’s not like I just-- I didn’t mean to--” He stopped, the weight of what was happening settling over him. He couldn’t really lose his soulmate over this. Could he? He needed Will, as much as he needed Hazel, Reyna, and Jason. They were his soulmates, his life partners. Without Will--

He blinked, tears gripping at his eyelashes. Reyna and Hazel stared, both looking ready to gather him up in their arms.

“You’re not the first.”

The other three turned to Jason, who’d been silent this entire time. His face was solemn, brows drawn together as he looked at the table.

“Look, I don’t go spreading this around because it’s not my business, and they like to keep it quiet,” Jason said, sitting up and hitting his hands on his knees, “but my soulmate Percy--he’s married to one of his soulmates. Annabeth. They’ve had a romantic relationship since they were . . . sixteen, I think.”

“Oh. Wow,” Hazel said, looking honestly astonished. She leaned back in her chair, shoulders slumping up.

Jason shrugged. “I was kind of shocked when I met them. But they’re happy together. So I think it’s fine. If they want it, then what’s it matter?”

Reyna and Hazel didn’t disagree. They looked to Nico.

“Lucky them,” he said, slamming his head into the table.

Jason smiled, the scar scrunching up. “I know it’s not what you want to hear. But I don’t think there’s much advice we can give you about this. They may have ended up together, but I think they’ll get what you’re going through. You should talk to them.”

Nico grunted.

“Well, since we’re all here,” Hazel said, brightening the room with a smile, “why don’t we watch a movie? What do you say, Nico? I’ll let you pick first.”

“Mythomagic: The Movie,” he said, slowly sitting up.

Jason and Reyna mock-groaned. He cracked a grin. So did they.