#because that man hasn’t been given a single answer or choice since he woke up and is still at the whims of the scientists around him

[i-will-change-this-someday]

I get that Aubrey is grieving, but I am 100% on Warren’s side. She hasn’t told him anything about anything since he woke up, he deserves answers.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Fire and Darkness Chapter 4

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1186

Summary: Yeah, I forgot I liked this trope, and long story short there’s only one bed.

You’d had an inkling of how lucky you were for your home before everything went sideways, but nothing could have fully prepared you for the reality of life on the run. Adrian, or whatever name he gave to people along the way, was blessedly understanding about your position, fortunately, but that didn’t do much to ease the steadily-building anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you every waking moment of the day, and it all came to a head one afternoon in a strange, new town when the two of you decided to splurge for a room at the local inn to keep out of the worsening weather outside.

“I’m afraid the pair of you aren’t the only ones seeking shelter from this storm, my dears,” the kindly old woman behind the counter was saying. “You’re lucky that we have even one room available.”

“And there’s no chance that it has two beds or even a couch in it, is there?” you asked on the end of a sigh, already knowing the answer in your heart.

“Not at all. Unfortunately, it’s always the small rooms that go last, you know.”

“It’s alright,” Adrian said smoothly. “We’ll figure something out.” Then he was sliding over the money to pay for the stay.

The old woman winked. “If anyone else asks, just say you’re married. They’ll believe it; the pair of you have the look.”

“Oh, we’re not--”

“Trust me, sweetheart; I know the look. You’d best tack a ‘yet’ to the end of that sentence.”

“But--”

“Thank you,” Adrian cut you off, hand moving down to grasp yours and again you felt your power swell with the contact; you also could have sworn you saw pink at the tips of his ears, “for your kindness. We appreciate the advice.”

“Always happy to help the youth!” she grinned. The sound of the key scraping against the desk as she pushed it towards you grated against your nerves. “Check-out is tomorrow afternoon!”

“Adrian, how are we supposed to make anyone believe that we--”

Those grey eyes of his cut to yours as he led you upstairs. “You know as well as I that married couples our age aren’t uncommon. Besides,” he slid the key into the lock to access the room, “with any luck, we won’t be encountering anyone to warrant such a lie.”

The room that was revealed when the door swung open was even smaller than you’d feared, looking more like a converted broom closet than a proper bedroom. The bed was barely wide enough for one and a half people, let alone two; you wouldn’t at all be surprised if his feet dangled off the end of it given his height. The bed was shoved into a corner to maximize space for things such as changing clothes, and beside it sat a barrel serving as an end table with a single oil lamp atop it to light the space.

“Home sweet home,” you said on an exhale. “Do you want to be against the wall, or shall I?” After your time travelling together--months, you were startled to realize--it would be silly to have the argument of who would sleep on the floor. No, both of you would be in the bed, and that was that.

He snorted a little at your mild annoyance. “It’s got to be better than sleeping in the woods, hasn’t it?” he countered while depositing his pack on the floor. 

“Tell that when your poor toes are freezing because they’re just dangling into the abyss.”

There was a spark in his eyes that you’d seen there before, but couldn’t name when you looked over at him. “Then it’s a good thing I’m sharing with you, isn’t it?”

You weren’t sure if he was referring to your ability or something more intimate, but your face heated regardless. “I suppose,” you murmured shyly, insecurity driving away whatever playfulness had been on your tone. Your gaze dropped to the bed you were sitting on.

“Do you have a preference?” he asked more quietly, sensing your uneasiness.

“Huh?” You still didn’t look up at him; instead you made yourself busy by removing the layers that’d started getting too hot now that you were indoors.

“The bed. Do you have a preference on a side?”

“Oh, no.”

“Then I’ll take the side by the door,” came his decisive choice. “I’m a lighter sleeper; I’ll wake if there is any danger.”

“Alright . . .”

Minutes cloaked in awkward silence later, the pair of you were tucked under the well-worn sheets lying closer than you had ever anticipated to the man. Due to the lack of space, it was inevitable that your legs end up being tangled. What you hadn’t anticipated was the way you had to be turned on your side away from each other in order to have any kind of space between your upper halves. And you were right. His toes were hanging off the bed unless he kept his knees pulled up a bit.

“Are you awake?” you asked as quietly as you could in case the answer was ‘no.’

“I’m impressed you think I could doze off that quickly, but yes.”

You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. You could feel the heat radiating between his back and yours. Part of you wanted to lean back and close that distance.

He sighed a little as he adjusted his position, and you worried that you’d annoyed him. “I’ll tell you a secret in exchange for yours,” he offered, a mirror to that original bargain you’d made with him.

He’d taken the leap and trusted you back then. You could do the same now, but still you hesitated. “. . . I’m afraid I’ll never see my cousin again.” The instant it was out in the air, it was as if a pressure was lifted from your chest. You’d worried that giving voice to your fear would make it reality, but you felt better just for having admitted it.

“You will,” he promised despite both of you knowing he had no power to keep it. There was another pause, just like before yours, when he seemed to brace himself for saying whatever his secret was. “My name is Aleksander.”

A grin spread across your face despite the uncertainty that still gnawed at your mind. You rolled over to face him, prompting him to do the same. His eyes were wary; you wondered how long it’d been since anyone had known his real name. “It’s nice to meet you, Aleksander,” you greeted warmly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” came his more tentative reply.

If the pair of you woke the next morning with your head resting on his chest and his arm holding you close, that was your business and no, you wouldn’t be thinking too hard about it. Especially the way it sent thrills down your spine. Or how it quickly became normal for the two of you to sleep against each other rather than apart. It was better for survival, you reasoned. Sharing body heat and all that. Nevermind the fact that it continued well into the heat of the Summer.

[carsontheleft]

One sentimental moment

Summary: Gwilym and Ben know each other through an app and set up strict boundaries for their relationship - sex only, no feelings. When Gwil is hurt, Ben needs to figure out what he really wants.

Pairing: GwilxBen

Comment: I want to dedicate this to you, @laminy. I realize that this piece of writing is not really worthy of being dedicated to someone of your talent, but I wanted to do it since it were your stories that got me into writing again after quite some time. ITBASM means so much to me, really, Rami and Joe’s place in London, the flat in Aber, the boys and their cats feel like family, like home to me. I can reread the series a million times and still not be bored, I always cry with them, laugh with them, want to hit them over the head when they’re being stupid. And your snippets are glorious! You manage to answer a range of various prompts and every single one of them is so well-crafted, so full of feelings, I’ve actually turned on the notifications for your blog so I’ll never miss a post. If this is wildly inappropriate, if you don‘t like this one-shot at all, please feel free to ignore it. This is just something I wanted to say (and yes, I totally missed the deadline from the Appreciate the Queen Creators Day...). This blog has like 2 followers but I wanted to get this out here. I hope I can show my appreciation this way, because your writing (and subsequently you?) just mean so much to me. I hope you can somehow enjoy this <3

//

When Ben’s phone rings he’s on his way to the hospital. The caller ID says Sex on LEGS and he has to bite down on his lower lip not to laugh. It’s what Gwilym described himself as on the app they met on and frankly, he’s not wrong.

“Hey Gwil.”

“Ben”, Gwil just says, his voice is deep and rough, sounding like he just woke up and it sends tingles down Ben’s spine, settling right into his crotch. “Listen, uh, I’m sorry but I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“Oh.”

That isn’t what Ben has hoped for. He thought Gwil is calling him to set the mood for their, well not date exactly, but their date. He is an expert at driving Ben to edge and leaving him hanging there for the rest of the day until they finally met up in the evening.

“Yeah, I- I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise – ugh”, there’s a rustling of sheets in the background and Gwil groans slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a cold, Ben, I’m okay, it’s just a bit… not sexy.”

Ben can see him scrunching his nose, frustrated about his inelegant choice of words and has to stifle his laughter again. He also has to hold back on the offer to come over and look after Gwil for a bit.

What they’re having isn’t like that. It’s not a relationship, they’re not dating, it’s just sex for the sake of it. Mind-blowing good sex. The best sex Ben’s ever had. But nothing more. They’re probably not even friends. Ben knows what kind of rope Gwil prefers to use, but not his favorite movie. He knows the size of condoms he needs, but not if he’s still friends with his mates from uni.

Ben made himself swear to not get hung up about it. They even have a contract about the nature of their arrangement that clearly states that, if one should catch feelings for the other, he’s to tell immediately.

But Ben doesn’t have feelings for Gwil. He just likes him in a regular way, only with the bonus that he loves Gwil when he gives Ben orgasms that make him feel like the world is exploding. And he just doesn’t want him to feel bad. Like a normal, decent person does with their acquaintances.

So, no feelings.

“Okay, alright. Then feel better soon. How ‘bout you just text me when you’re better and we can set up a date or something?”, Ben cringes a little, that sounds like he’s talking to some random dude from Ebay that wants to buy his old TV.

“I’ll do that. Have a nice day, Ben.”

“Yeah, you too. See ya!”

He hangs up and fights the urge to bash his phone through his skull. Smooth, Jones, real smooth.

 His cancelled date dampens Ben’s mood a bit when he visits one of his mates, who’s fallen down a ladder and managed to crack what seems like all of his ribs. But he’s trying not to let it show, tries to stuff it away and tells himself he’ll just have a cozy night in with a movie and some popcorn.

He’s leaving the hospital again when he spots a familiar figure limping down the street in front of him. It’s a bit embarrassing but no understatement to say that Ben would recognize the shape of this back, the long, slim legs and the warm hazel colored hair just about anywhere.

“Gwil?”, he calls running up to him and only now fully realizing that Gwil is using crutches, has a brace on his left knee and sports a generally disheveled look.

“Gwil!”

It takes Ben standing in front of him for Gwil to finally look up from his task of navigating himself through the busy street.

“Huh- Ben! Wha-What are you doing here?”

“What am I- Jesus, Gwil, why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?!”, Ben can’t stop himself from fretting, not with the way Gwilym looks. Angry red scabs are coating the right side of his face, just like his knuckles. The jacket he usually wears for running is torn up. There’s a flush to his face that indicates he really shouldn’t be out on the streets alone with whatever’s in his system.

“Well, I’m not. At the hospital, I mean”, the taller man indicates at the street with one of his crutches as clearly not the hospital, and stumbles forward when his legs don’t quite hold his weight.

Ben immediately steps forward to steady him with a tight grip on his shoulders, whereas Gwil tries for a dopey grin but winces when it painfully pulls at his road rash.

“Oh my god”, Ben mutters to himself. This is not okay, Gwil really shouldn’t be on his own right now. Fuck not caring, fuck this, them, being something akin a business partnership, this is more serious.

“Is someone picking you up?”

“I pointed at a guy and told the nurse he’s my roommate and here to pick me up.”

“And they just believed that? Without seeing you walk out together?”

Gwil shrugs and then hisses.

“She was busy”, he takes a deep breath and seems to sober up a bit. “But I can get home on my own, don’t worry Ben. It’s not long with the tube.”

“I know”, Ben frowns at him, then makes a decision. “I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t need to-“

“Consider it a service to myself, okay? ‘Cause I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight not knowing you made it home in one piece.”

Ben just plows over Gwil, because this aspect of him, this ‘I-don’t-want-to-inconvenience-you’-thing, that he knows and that he can handle.

“Okay.”

Gwil is surprisingly quiet, so Ben doesn’t waste any time and flags down a taxi and carefully maneuvers Gwil into it.

“How did this happen anyway?”, he asks after he’s given Gwil’s address to the driver.

“A cyclist ran me down yesterday morning. Ran a red light and right into me.”

“Shit, mate”, Ben bites his tongue, cursing his sheer stupidity. ‘Shit, mate’? Really? How much of an insensitive prick can one be?

Gwil doesn’t seem to notice his inner struggles, he’s closed his eyes, relaxing against the head rest.

“So, what did the doctors say?”

“That I’ve been lucky, he could’ve pushed me against another car or something. So it’s just scabs and bruises. They might operate on the knee, they wanted to see if it heals on its own first. Apparently, I’m young and fit enough for that to happen. Doesn’t feel like it at the moment”, Gwil scoffs. He’s kept his eyes closed while talking and Ben debates if he should let him sleep.

“Looks like it.”

He leaves it at that. Gwil dozes for the remainder of the drive while Ben keeps a watchful eye on him. It’s different to see him like this, soft and unguarded, for once not in full control of his surroundings.

But Ben doesn’t mind. Sure, having Gwil in control during sex, being able to let himself be completely at his mercy is nice, exhilarating even, but he finds he likes this too. Inside of him flutters the urge to care, to protect, something he would never have associated with Gwil, but it’s there and it nearly burns through the insides of Ben.

The taxi comes to a stop and Gwil startles awake, begins to look for his wallet or phone or anything to pay with, but Ben hands a few bills to the driver and climbs out of the car to help the other man getting out.

“So, ah, thanks for the ride, appreciate it. But please, don’t let me keep you, you were probably busy before you stumbled over me.”

“Actually, I’m not, took a few days off.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence and Ben can see the cogs turning in Gwil’s head as he figures out that Ben took time off to prepare for the evening they had planned and to recuperate from it.

His face turns apologetic and Ben uses his chance to butt in.

“Why don’t I help you settle in? Just get you comfortable with a cup of tea, you look like you need one.”

“I-“, Gwil is surprised by Ben’s sudden resolve and determination. “That’d be nice, thanks.”

 Ben knows Gwil’s flat, technically. He’s been inside multiple times; he knows the cracks on the ceiling of his bedroom and the feeling of his sheets. The dark blue towels are familiar to him and he knows that there’s a toothbrush in the mirror cabinet if he wants to use one.

But being in Gwil’s kitchen in daylight, looking for tea and mugs, it’s something else entirely. Somehow it fleshes Gwil more out, makes him more of a person, a real person. Not that he hasn’t been before, but there is a difference between knowing someone as the person that ties you to the bedpost and seeing the person’s collection of destination mugs.

It takes a bit of the mystery away, but Ben really doesn’t mind that. It may paint a whole other picture of Gwil, but he’d be lying if he didn’t find it endearing.

When the tea is done, Ben returns to Gwil who’s sitting on his sofa and looking uncomfortable.

“Here’s your tea. I’m not sure how you like it.”

“Thanks.” His smile is tight and there are some lines around his eyes that betray how much he’s hurting sitting up like this. Before Gwil’s struggle to reach the milk on the coffee table draws out, Ben intervenes.

“Here, let me.”

He adds a splash of milk and hands the tea over to Gwil.

“You know, you really don’t need to do this. I can get by on my own, there’s no reason you should feel obligated to take care of me, I don’t expect this from our relationship”, Gwil says after some quiet minutes where they just sipped their drinks. On second thought he adds: “And I’m not sure if that came up during the negotiation, but I’m not really a fan this playing doctor thing, or up for it, so-“

“Jeez, Gwil, it’s not like that!”, Ben cuts in before Gwil has the chance to make this even more awkward. It hurts bit to know that Gwil sees their relationship just as sex and not more of a personal connection, but Ben deems that his own fault. He wanted sex without the added trouble of a relationship, and he got just that.

“Am I not allowed to be a decent human being and to make sure you’re alright?”, Gwil doesn’t seem convinced at all, so Ben decides, in a moment of some sort of mental blackout obviously, to go all in.

“I like you, okay? As a person with a character and not just with a great dick. And I don’t like the thought of you hurting and being on your own. You’ve taken great care of me these last weeks, I don’t think I’ve thanked you for that, so just let me take care you! Even if it’s in a different way.”

Gwilym says nothing to that. For some minutes that might as well stretch out into hours he just stares as Ben as if he just declared that the earth is flat and is breaking apart. It makes Ben so uncomfortable that he considers to either wave a hand in front of Gwil’s face to make sure he hasn’t checked out mentally or to just leave, this apartment, the city, the country, change his name, grow a beard and work as goat farmer on an isolated island in Greece.

“You do.”

“What?”

“You do thank me. Every time you orgasm. It’s a bit weird, actually.”

Ben blushes, honest to god blushes and the plans for the goat farm seem to be a really good idea.

“I, uh- I’m sorry? I didn’t know that. I just… yeah.”

“It’s sweet. And I’m sorry if I offended you, it’s just- I’ve been doing this a while now and the anonymity of the app lets some people forget their manners. Or decency. It’s…”, he sighs, and Ben can feel it in every inch of his body. “It’s generally safer not to expect anything. I’m beginning to think I might be the wrong person for ‘just sex’ after all.”

Okay, no. Ben’s gotta put a stop to this, it’s not fair to the both of them. They need to have this talk when they’re both in full possession of their mental capabilities and not doped up and/or in pain.

“Hey, we don’t need to talk about this right now. How about I’ll help you out of these clothes and into something more comfortable so you can rest?”

 Gwil is soft and pliable, which makes changing his clothes easy, although his pants are a bit tricky. Ben needs to remove the brace, get the tight running pants off, the brace back on and only then he can stick Gwil’s ridiculously long legs into a pair of soft pyjama pants.

“You’re good at this”, Gwil remarks once they’re done in the bathroom and hobbling to his bedroom. He’s panting and a drop of sweat makes it slowly down his temple.

“I was training to be a nurse.”

Ben grunts a little when Gwil has to lean almost his whole on Ben in order to lower himself down on his bed.

“Why did you stop?”

“I couldn’t draw the line between the person and the patient”, Ben shrugs and rearranges Gwil’s pillows for him to lay down comfortably. “It was so hard to draw blood from kids. Even harder when someone didn’t make it. I loved it but I figured my job shouldn’t leave me crying almost every night.”

“Mhh”, Gwil hums, his eyes already closed when Ben covers him with the blanket. “Thanks, Ben.”

“Get some rest, Gwil.”

 Upon waking, Gwil isn’t too sure of his surroundings. He’s in his own bed, yes, but there are noises outside, some clanking and a rushing. It takes some time until he realizes it’s someone in his kitchen making tea. But-

Ben.

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Gwil shoots up and doubles over immediately when his body screams at him in pain by the sudden movement. His groan is guttural, but that’s not even on the forefront of his mind, there’s Ben. Ben, who stumbled over him at the hospital, took him home and put him to bed. Ben, who, apparently, is currently in his kitchen making tea.

This is not okay, far from it, really. This goes against everything they agreed upon in their contract.

“You’re up!”

“Ben!”

The blonde needs only a second before he knows what’s going on.

“When I made the tea, I noticed your cupboards were pretty empty, so I went out to get some groceries. Just the essentials”, he holds up his hands, well, the one hand not holding a mug.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know”, Ben sits down on his bed and looks at Gwil, a steely resolve in his eyes that Gwil hasn’t seen before, “But a thank you should be enough to make up for it.”

“Thank you.”

It’s more of a mechanic response, because what Gwil actually wants to do is insisting that he’s fine, that Ben really didn’t need to get him groceries, that he can get by on his own. But Ben seems to have another idea.

“Listen, I know what you want to say. Me being here with you like this is violating the contract and not the nature of our agreement. But I don’t fucking care. If me taking care of you means we can’t have sex anymore, fine. Well, not fine, obviously, but okay, I’ll take it. There’s nothing that could make me just leave you alone like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

“I…”

Gwil is not sure what to say. Ben just said a lot of words and his sleep- and pain-addled brain is a bit slow on the uptake.

“Is there anyone you could call? Who’d come over for bit?”, Ben asks softly.

“No, not really”, Gwil doesn’t know why he’s ashamed of that but he can’t bring himself to meet Ben’s eyes. “My family doesn’t live here, and my friends, I don’t really- I wouldn’t want-“

“To bother them? You’re a moron, Gwilym Lee”, despite his words, Ben smiles at him. He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out Gwil’s face. He can’t help but lean into the soft touch.

“Are you okay with me staying here with you?”

“Yes.”

And he really is, much to his own surprise. He likes Ben like this. In a soft sweater, with a mug in his hands. He might like him like this even more than he likes him naked.

“Do you want some painkillers?”

“Yes, please.”

Ben places the mug on the bedside table and opens the drawer to pull out a bottle of pills. He smirks at Gwil.

“I might not know how where you keep your sugar, but I do know where your painkillers are. And I’m okay with learning that other stuff.”

[lymazhu]

Lingering Effects

rating: PG

pairing: Jon/Martin cw: loss of time/disorientation, accidentally being compelled to answer a question

written for Day 6 of TMAHCWeek with the prompt accident, with a bit of confusion/delirium. 

set between 159-160

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189176

The dull throbbing that filled his mind before the haze of sleep could even dissipate made it clear that today was not going to be one of his better days. It was hard to even force his eyes open. Beside him the bed was cold and empty. Jon must have made it as best he could without disturbing Martin, so it was only the sounds coming from the kitchen that pushed away the momentary fear that gripped him. No, he told himself. Their time at the safehouse wasn't just a foolish dream. If he walked out of the bedroom he would see Jon making breakfast. Jon would look up at him, and there would be a soft, fond expression on his face that he’d long ago abandoned hopes of seeing until the first time it actually happened. That was real; it was the mist of the Lonely that wasn’t. Not anymore.

Being under the covers was stiflingly hot, but as soon as he made a move to leave the warmth of the bed his skin erupted in goosebumps. He'd never had much problem with lower temperatures or dampness before, not with living in London for so long. Now, though, the chill crept so easily into his bones. Drowned out everything that had changed from normal and comforting to oppressive and overwhelming. It had been getting better the longer he was away from the Lonely, but his dreams the night before had been full of fog and Peter's voice casually speculating about whether Martin would work more efficiently if he had a little chat with the Archivist's assistants.

“Martin?” Jon’s voice broke the silence, shaking him out of a daze. Martin wasn’t entirely sure if the man sounded distant because he was still in the kitchen or if it was just the way his brain was processing sounds at the moment. He realized it was the former when Jon continued, getting louder as he drew closer. Too loud. “I’ve made you an omelette with some of the herbs we picked up the other day. It, ah, should be to your liking but if not I-” Jon’s voice faltered as he reached the doorway, and Martin forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes. A variety of unpleasant feelings twisted within him. He must look particularly awful if he made Jon stop short. He didn’t want to give Jon time to confirm it, so he forced himself to speak.

“Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.” Please leave me alone, Martin left unsaid. 

By the time he’d managed to make it to the table, having given up on trying to fix the rat’s nest his hair had become, the food Jon had put effort into making was barely lukewarm. It would probably have been delicious on another day. He managed about half of it between sips of over-brewed tea before he set his fork down. The sound of metal against porcelain was jarring enough to make him flinch, even though he was the one who’d done it.  Old guilt rose in him at the idea of letting good food go to waste, but the thought of trying to force down another bite made his throat feel tight.

“I’m not very hungry.” He didn’t add that he wasn’t very anything right now, but from the looks of it Jon knew. Part of him resented that, even though it wasn’t exactly something that would require superhuman knowledge to catch.

“Not feeling well today, I take it. I...wasn’t up for eating this morning either. Perhaps we caught something in the village.” Martin knew that on a better day he would have appreciated that olive branch. Would have agreed, or maybe even made some joke or another despite both of them knowing perfectly well that their relative states had nothing to do with the flu. Today, though, the reminder that Jon hadn’t even bothered to make himself food was the last thing he wanted. He’d noticed that there was no second plate in the sink, but he’d been trying not to think about it. Not to mention that the way Jon had avoided asking him a question spoke volumes. 

After Jon had cleared away the dishes and Martin had pretended not to see the way the man’s hands trembled or the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, they sat together in the main room. At first Jon had sat beside him, but his weight against Martin’s side didn’t have its usual comforting effect. It had been stifling, and every shift of the man’s body or sound of a  flipped page made Martin tense. At some point, Martin wasn’t sure how long after they’d sat down, Jon had pretended that he had left something in the kitchen and settled in the armchair upon his return. 

More of the day passed that way; from time to time Martin would register that the direction of the muddled sunlight coming through the windows had changed, but mostly his thoughts were faint and distant. Lost as soon as they’d registered, except for when some sound or another would cut through everything to send a stab of discomfort through him. He could feel Jon’s eyes on him. It wasn’t comforting. His skin prickled under the man’s stare, and he was about to ask him to stop when it happened. 

“What’s wrong, Martin?” Martin had long enough to look up, shocked, before the compulsion forced the words from his mouth. “I woke up this morning with Peter’s voice in my head and thought I was still in the Lonely because your side of the bed didn’t even look slept in. I don’t remember the last time I saw you eat and that scares me. I can see you’re in withdrawal and I still remember that woman who came to me describing what you did to her, every single sound and bright color and taste is overwhelming today and part of me is still waiting to find out this whole thing is the punchline to a particularly unfunny joke.” 

As everything poured out, he could hear Jon apologize, tell him in a panicked voice that he didn’t mean to. It didn’t remove the effect, though, and by the time he had control over himself again he didn’t particularly want to tell Jon it was okay. He didn’t say anything more at all before he stood and walked out of the room. Jon was still speaking, but there was nothing supernatural to his tone anymore so Martin wasn’t forced to listen or comprehend what he was saying. 

The next time he came back to himself, the sun was low in the sky. Long shadows and rich orange light stretched across the floor. His thoughts were still clouded and his body heavy, but he was at least able to move without feeling out of sync with his own body. There had to have been more to the day than the few scraps of memory he could pull out of the fog. Something more than food that turned his stomach and Jon compelling him. But what it was, he couldn’t recall.

 He remembered clearly the way it felt to have the answer forced out of him, but the actual words he’d said were another story. All he knew was that he’d been so tired and so angry. That he hadn’t wanted to listen to Jon’s desperate apologies. Part of him still didn’t, but he knew they needed to talk. He’d made his choice; being by Jon’s side, loving him, sometimes meant dealing with things that he shouldn’t have to. And Martin knew that Jon tried his best not to use his powers on him but he’d been getting weaker as the days went by. It was probably only a matter of time before he slipped, and it was better that it happened now rather than when they were out in town. That still didn’t make it okay, but he needed to look at things objectively. 

Jon was still in the armchair when Martin found him, staring out the window. Given the way he startled when Martin’s hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder, he hadn’t heard him approach. The look of shock on his face was quickly replaced by shame. “O-oh, Martin...I really am so-” “Jon.” It wasn’t unkind, but Martin’s tone left no room for interpretation. “I’m aware things are difficult for you, and I know that you’re trying, but- please never compel me again. I don’t remember what I said, but I’m sure I would have chosen my words better if they hadn’t been forced from me. I know I’ve been doing better the longer I’ve been out of the Lonely, but today was bad. Still is, really, but I can actually keep thoughts in my head long enough to be able to talk.” A sigh escaped Martin as he made his way to the couch, motioning for Jon to join him. His instincts pushed for him to soften his words a bit more, to reassure Jon that everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Drawing limits, having boundaries, that wasn’t something unacceptable. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt a bit to see how cautious Jon was as he sat down, carefully avoiding sitting too close to him. 

“You’re right. I mean, o-of course you’re right. It’s been a while since I’ve had a statement, and that tends to affect my interest in regular food. Among...other things. But that doesn’t excuse my forcing an answer out of you. Nor does the fact that I didn’t do it intentionally. I am sorry, but that doesn’t mean you need to forgive me.” 

“I know.” Martin didn’t quite feel up to smiling, not yet, but he placed his hand over Jon’s. “We can talk about it more later, work out a system. Figure things out. For now let’s just...agree that it’s on hold.” He brushed a lock of loose hair from Jon’s face, tucking it behind the man’s ear.

“I love you. That hasn’t changed.” Martin added after a few moments.  The silence that fell between them this time, as Jon leaned wordlessly into his touch, had a much different quality. If he wasn’t still oversensitive to sound, Martin might have missed Jon’s eventual response, soft and buried in his jumper as it was.

[peepingtoad]

|| @dokuhebi | cont. {x} ||

These were strange times indeed to find oneself relaxing in what was essentially an intimate holiday retreat, but Jiraiya had never been one to pass up any chance to bask, even temporarily, in the calm between storms. 

For some time now they had been on the move, running from assumed pursuers, often roughing it, and constantly having to pack up and move again as soon as possible. After all, there was only so long that even the most skilled shinobi on the run could go undetected, especially in a group of three, and with so few basic supplies there was little choice but to stop at the occasional inn. Even with constantly changing disguises and cleverly placed diversions, chakra could be sensed. Townsfolk would gossip. Innkeepers would be bought. The constant atmosphere of tension and worry between them made this one of the less fun voyages he’d ever experienced, but the stretch of their journey before they reached this promised land had been of a particular strain on the collective patience of the group, helped in no way by the snippy comments of Kabuto, Orochimaru's right hand man.

At the very least, and to Jiraiya's absolute delight, Kabuto seemed happy enough to hole himself up in his own quarters immediately upon arrival here. The sage wasn't sure how much, if anything, the young man had come to know about the situation between the two Sannin, for he left it entirely up to Orochimaru to either clear things up in their own time, or not. It wasn’t up to Jiraiya to demand their status (vague thing that that was) to be made known, and it hardly mattered a great deal to him anyway. Sure, it made keeping his more amorous tendencies in check a challenge at times, but it also meant that moments like these were all the more wonderful for it.

The absolute ambience of this place, the ease he felt being beside Orochimaru, and their ease in cuddling up to him, made his question a very earnest and comfortable thing—no hint of guilting or judgement to be seen, to which they thankfully seemed to respond well. It wasn’t with any certainty that Jiraiya could claim an expected answer, and yet as he listens to them speak he finds himself surprised not on the basis of the answer itself, but on their frankness even when confronted with the contradictory nature of it.

"A serendipity! Never thought I’d hear the day you sell your own cunning short!" He laughs, much too warmly given the fraught memories they were discussing, a betrayal so recent that it really should instill him with more caution than this. But in the face of his deepest desires, Jiraiya was ever one to lose sight of such a thing. He tilts his head to accept the small kiss with a very satisfied, almost childishly smug expression, and scoffs lightly at their taunting. "Now, don't you go getting all presumptuous on me. I think I'd choose the word ‘exasperated’ over 'upset’ in this case. But whatever you think my feelings are, there was in fact a great deal of romance to it... in your own very special, often infuriating way.”

He was going to leave it at that. The allure of all the flesh Orochimaru has on show is strong, and having those legs draped over his lap proves irresistible to his tactile nature as he runs a palm over the top of one calf, then allows it to glide down the side of their thigh, thinking nothing of slipping beneath fabric for a more intimate feel. Even so, this all has him thinking in such a way that he can’t feign a solely lusty mood. The time spent as a captive was so fraught with tension and mistrust that he could never have faced thinking too deeply about it, and ever since their escape they were afforded so little privacy or time to consider anything but the next destination. There’s so much he wishes to say, and it makes him nervous. It reflects in his touch as he slowly, absently runs his hand up and down the length of their leg, and in the sigh that seems to deflate him despite the smile he wears.

“You know... fool that I am, I can’t resist putting all my trust in your hands. You know it, I know it." Where his free hand had initially rested before finding a distraction, covered only by the light fabric of his yukata, was a scar. It’s only by grace of the subject at hand and the fact he’d obliviously been touching it moments earlier that he now remembers this particular scar, one of two tokens of the first truly violent altercation they’d ever had—the other sitting higher on his chest. That night had cemented in place the very first death of something between them, a death that felt like some crucial part of him had been ripped out. Even now it was difficult to identify what exactly that something was, but it’s clear as day that on his part at the very least, it wasn’t his trust in the other. His fingers clench subtly into the pale skin beneath their tips, and he lifts his gaze from the spot with a soft smile, the lantern’s light now picking out his profile in warm orange. "I noticed that even though you do betray my trust, I’m always awake the next day to realise it. I wondered if it truly was because I meant so little to you by that point, but even while despairing part of me still believed it was because you couldn’t bring yourself to do worse. I carried that like a candle in the dark. It hurt regardless, of course. Boy, did it hurt and yet..."

They must know exactly what he’s talking about by now. It isn’t something he’d intended to bring up on this beautiful evening, but now that he’s found himself on a tangent he suspects Orochimaru will remain quiet until he’s finished, digest his words thoroughly before making any input of their own. And so, with his eyes trained on the lantern buzzing under the assault of fluttering moths’ wings, he continues.

"And yet I've never once woken up and thought to myself that next time we’ve got a situation, I won't do it again. Just to show you that I’m still me, and the way I feel hasn’t changed. But now that you mention it, talking about actions proving words... most of the time when I’ve thrown all of myself at your feet it’s been desperation at play. Desperation because I know I’m too late, desperation to prove something I was responsible for messing up to begin with, with a few theatrics thrown in because truthfully, I'm not always this articulate. In the forest though, there was nothing in our past that put us there—well, besides me scouting the general area for signs of you—and so in that moment I saw you injured, I simply reacted, and it was the very same me, only without the preface of a fight. Your reaction to that, I feel as a result, also ended up coming from a different place to other clashes we’ve had. Simply put, you could have made it so I simply woke up alone again. But this time, I think something in you wanted to have a go at being around me, even if it was rationalised as tactical at first. I could be absolutely wrong, I could be seeing what wasn’t there. It’d be stupid to pretend that I understand you fully, after we’ve been separated for so long, and frankly you were always pretty difficult to get. But I'd pick difficult you over easy not-you any day of the week. I know you're a little intense, a little morbid, a little out of the ordinary, and it shows most when you’re feeling too much at once... but that just is you, isn’t it?"

The one I love.

With a soft, purring laugh at the impossibly mushy thought does he finally turn back towards them, interrupting those anxious paths he’d been tracing up and down their thigh to instead ghost up the exposed sliver of chest, then caress an elegant jaw. As the bone tapers, his curled forefinger gently slips to the thinner skinned underside, a teasing persuasion for them to face him more fully. To allow him to truly appreciate every facet of their features, from the alabaster skin that the lantern-light dusts golden, to the gleaming silver earrings at their throat, to the fathomless hues of gem-like irises. It gets him every time without fail, just how ridiculously stunning they truly are—always did, except it’s only now that he can truly be open in his admiration. Or rather, adoration.

A smile creeps rakishly over his face, a little flushed despite how smooth he tells himself he’s being, and at the very moment his leaning and guiding seemed it would end in a kiss, he halts with that velvet dark gaze locked onto theirs.

"Similarly, I’d hope that if anyone was to say how absolutely spellbinding you are tonight, it’d mean more to you coming from the man who's bled for you and chased you to the ends of the earth, than than it would coming from some other bozo." Humming an even huskier laugh than before, he finally closes the distance with a single, lingering kiss on their lips before playfully adding:

“Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

[the-gay-cryptid]

DND Last Night!

Quick background: we’re in a town called Neiro, and last session was spent battling our way through a dungeon. We started this session in the tavern celebrating our success with the companions we went through the dungeon with.

Saffron drank something called Dragons Fire Ale from one of our companions, and she got fucked up

Our other companion was drinking something called halfling stout, which had the slogan: “makes a halfling feel like a wholeling”, which had us cackling for a while.

Saffron got into a drinking contest with a gnome, and had a grand total of 3 double shots of this ale. Every single one was a mistake.

Saffron: Another!

Jade and Soli in unison: NO!

“I can’t wait to see Josh’s face when he finds out about this” “oh god, he’s going to kill us!”

Saffron, so drunk she cant lift her glass: Vers...feed me the next one!

Soli threatened to never heal Vers again if he actually gave saffron more ale

Saffron got put into the special bag we made for her to ride in on Vers’ back.

Soli and Jade swore they weren’t helping him clean it when Saffron threw up in his bag. 

Jade, with fear: No one tell Joshua about this

Saffron, drunk and with damaged pride: you tell him I won!

she definitely did not win

Saffron stayed in the bag, just her little head poking out, and Jade fed her crackers to help soak up the alcohol

Saffron took great pride in the fact that she got this wasted before sundown

but then!!! bells started ringing!!! and we were told “He’s here!”

so we followed the towns people to the town center, and we were told to get down in a manner that I now realize was very much like a surprise party.

a man appears! riding his horse! Its our dear friend Joshua, who hasn’t been in this quest until just now!  and he gets charged by the mayor.

the mayor..we have seen in action only once. he is a buff old ass man in a wizard hat. Joshua tries to get away, and, for pretty much the first time since we’ve met him, gets his shit wrecked. 29 points of damage in one hit. we hear Joshua’s bones crack.

and then we find out that the mayor is Josh’s grandfather, and this was all in good fun, and his grandfather heals him. Jade, being the only one who passed her arcana check, realizes this old ass man is very powerful, and she is very afraid of him.

Joshua takes us back to the tavern to watch a fight, and then we watch a lovely show.

the show is a beautiful woman singing. her name is Rachel, and Jade met her earlier that day at a music competition. Except she was judging the competition, so Jade hadn’t hear her actually play yet.

Rachel, it turns out, is an incredibly powerful glamour bard. and Jade, as a bard and lesbian, is smitten.

and then Rachel came up to our table with a bottle of wine and asked “come here often?” Saffron, our dear, drunk, little girl in a backpack, tried to flirt. Soli fumbled over herself trying to compliment Rachel. and Jade was in full blown gay panic mode and as soon as she got some alcohol in her system, she was going to charm the hell out of this gorgeous woman.

and then Rachel sat with Joshua. and we found out that they know each other. And, thankfully before Jade gets any alcohol, we learn that she is Josh’s fiance.

Saffron swears to steal her from him.

Soli, very tired: “Please excuse the small drunk child.”

We all went to Joshua’s house, which is super nice, because this island and town are in fact owned by his family. joshua is a rich boi.

But now it’s angst time

Jade went to Joshua’s study to talk to him about how she’s worried about saffron, because saffron has been sickly and violent since we got to the town, and something is very clearly wrong. and then had another gay panic because rachel was laid out on the couch while Joshua was painting (our dm, who plays Joshua, then had to clarify that no, this was not a titanic type scene and Rachel is just keeping him company)

Meanwhile! Soli sat with Saffron in her room to keep her company and make sure she doesn’t get sick. Saffron asked Soli where we got all the items we came back with from our little trip without her. (because we gave her like...five magic items from that trip)

Soli told her the short version, which was that we were hired and sent back in time to get something from Westshire before it burned down.

Saffron freaks out when Soli says the town’s name. She insists Soli is lying, and she gets so frantic, she ends up running to Josh’s study to ask him.

and so Jade sees her run by as she’s going into her room, and joins Soli in chasing after her.

Vers meanwhile has left the house and has no idea any of this is going on.

Saffron is still freaking out, and asks Joshua the same thing, and gets the same answer. when Jade and Soli get to the study, she asks Jade, and when Jade tells her they went to Westshire, she gets even more freaked out.

And saffron shows us a picture she got. she got it from a memory camera in a shop in town. it’s of Westshire. it is burning, and there is an elven woman with a symbol of House Lyrandar on her hand, and she is clearly the one who caused the fires

We all promise, very ardently, that we care about her and we trust her and we will do everything in our power to keep her safe from whoever this woman is.

We stayed in his study, Saffron sitting on Josh’s knee, Soli sitting beside them with a hand on Saffron’s back, and Jade sitting on the floor, just watching over all this.

Soli began asking Saffron more questions, trying to figure out why Saffron was there during the fires..and very slowly coming to the conclusion that, given that Saffron told us she’s an orphan, and given we were in Westshire about a decade ago, and given Saffron’s age, it’s very likely she was in the orphanage. She then mentions that she, Josh, and Jade went to the orphanage while we were there.

and Jade notices something (and I redeem my shitty ass roll from the last time I tried to do this). Saffron, she realizes, looks not quite human. she can see under Saffron’s hood a little, and notices..Saffron’s ears are a little long for a human. More like that halfling baby she held in Westshire. (Screaming from me and Soli’s player ensues)

And Jade finally makes the connection. And she and Saffron lock eyes, and they have a moment of understanding. Saffron tries to glare at her, and Jade just stares back, completely unfazed.

Saffron admits she has a lot of secrets, and she fears that if she told us, we would kill her.

Soli and Jade assure the hell out of her that, fuck no, we trust and love her so much.

Joshua attempted to lighten to mood by showing off his painting of him slaying a dragon during out last mission, and was met by some bitterness from Soli who reminded him that, without her help, he’d have been burned to a crisp.

Soli and Jade took Saffron to bed and kept her company while she tried to get to sleep, and Jade sang the same lullaby for her that she sang to baby Saffron in Westshire

And then Jade laid in her bed and did not sleep well at all, because holy fuck, Saffron isn’t a human either, and she’s from Westshire.

Joshua, meanwhile, took out the crystal ball we got in westshire. we actually accidentally stole it from a dragon born woman named Raipora.

Joshua let Rachel know he was going to try it out, and to stop him if it looked like things were going wrong.

Joshua woke up in a cloudy void space, and guess who was there to meet him

Raipora’s a little pissed that he stole her crystal ball, but he explains he fully intended to return it, and even offers to give it back to her. but Raipora tells him she was killed in the fires that destroyed Westshire.

and now, if he will let her use him to see Saffron, she will allow him to use the crystal ball to cast scrying.

Joshua lets her see Saffron, who figures out she is being watched, and informs him and Raipora, though she apparently mistakes them for someone else, that she likes hide and seek, and she’s been winning their game, and then she locks eyes with them, and tells them that this is cheating.

she tells them she doesn’t appreciate being spied on.

and the spell ends, and Joshua is in the void with Raipora for four hours. He loves Raipora though, and calls her his druid grandma, and they spend the next few hours talking about divination and trying to manipulate the clouds in the void to become furniture.

Vers returned after getting drunk on the beach and questioning his life choices, and Joshua, now very thrilled, shoves the crystal ball at him and insists Vers should look into it.

Vers is less thrilled about Raipora. He is deeply uncomfortable around her, and just tries not to stand too close to her.

Raipora just asks him about Saffron, and she apparently has some investment in making sure we keep little Saffron safe.

Vers is not a fan of Raipora.

in the morning, Jade woke up early for the first in her life, and she and Soli hung out in the library for a couple hours. they found an adorable book of drawings made by Joshua as a child.

Jade found a book on the houses and did some reading on House Vol. Unbeknownst to the rest of the party, or their players, Jade has spent the past five years picking up any patchwork information she could find on the cult that kidnapped her, and she knows they have some connection to House Vol. 

She and Soli then get some breakfast with Joshua, and we realize that his hair looks really nice this morning, and that Rachel apparently fixed it for him. which is just fucking adorable.

Joshua brought a very hungover Vers breakfast, and Vers informs him he wants nothing to do with the crystal ball ever again.

Vers, Jade, Soli, and Joshua all convene in the kitchen to talk about the crystal ball.

Josh appeals to Soli’s kind heart, and tells her how lonely Raipora has been. Jade tells him that’s noble and all, but Raipora is creepy, so fuck that, and Vers is very glad for the validation.

Soli and Jade go to Saffron’s room to check on her and see how she’s feeling after the night’s events.

And Soli reminds her again that we trust her, and we would forgive her for almost anything.

Saffron looked over to Jade, and Jade told her the same, and that her feelings have not changed. Saffron questioned her, and Jade just told her again, a little more firmly, that, even now, she hasn’t changed her mind.

Saffron made a comment that Jade saw something she wasn’t supposed to see. Jade agreed, and again told her it changed nothing.

and Saffron took off her hood, officially telling both of them that she’s a halfling.

Jade, meanwhile, is absolutely giddy because Saffron’s been lying about being a human too, and as soon as the two of them can talk alone, Jade is 100% telling Saffron that she’s a changeling.

there’s a lovely group hug, because everyone’s emotional and we need it.

Joshua comes and gets Saffron to ask her about the what she said when he and Raipora watched her the night before.

Saffron apologized for what she said to Joshua, and is apparently very relieved it was him and not whoever she thought it was

they then have a stupid cute conversation about how Joshua using the crystal ball to win hide and seek is cheating, and Saffron will just know he’s used it, and then go hide somewhere else. and Joshua answers he’ll mist step to her before she can hide again. Just really cute stuff.

Joshua finds Soli and Jade and brings us downstairs to the living room for what, in hindsight, probably looked an awful lot like a seance. 

all of us, minus Vers, sat around the crystal ball and waited for it to take us. except it didn’t. it only took Saffron.

cue mild panic from Jade who isn’t sure how safe this is. Joshua assured her it was perfectly fine, and that if they got too concerned, they could just take the crystal ball from saffron’s body and she’d come back.

Saffron comes back to consciousness after an hour

Jade and Joshua look into the crystal ball, and we immediately get taken in

The two of them have a brief argument over whether Raipora is cool or creepy.

and Jade gets jump scared by Raipora in the void, and Josh starts making couches from the clouds again while Jade and Raipora talk.

Raipora asked Jade about Saffron, and Jade was not nearly as forthcoming as the Josh, and demanded to know why Raipora is asking

Raipora admitted she has some sort of care for saffron, and Jade, rather begrudgingly, admitted she was fond of Saffron

After some more questions, Raipora revealed she wants to use us as vessels for her spell components. She is incredibly powerful (level 20 druid)

 and then Raipora asked if Jade had anyone she wanted to see. and Jade just went very pale and very still. (Out of character, i was repeatedly yelling “fuck!” because the person playing Raipora isn’t even our regular dm, and she has no idea how perfect that was, and I can’t even tell her because  s p o i l e r s)

Jade finally collects herself and tells Raipora, very shakily, that she doesn’t want to see anyone right now, and she would prefer to never need to see someone, but it’s pretty damn obvious there’s someone she wants to see, but cant ask about while Joshua is still around to hear.

So Jade just promises to keep Saffron safe, as per Raipora’s request, and they’re sent back to their bodies after Raipora makes some comment about Saffron being useful

Joshua is in a great mood.

Jade is shaken and a little bit furious, but Saffron is a sweetheart and tried to comfort her.

And then it’s Soli’s turn to visit druid grandma!

Joshua tries to go back again, but Raipora refuses, telling him that she needs to speak to Soli alone.

there’s a lot of half formed furniture, because Josh is still figuring out how to manipulate the void. Raipora admits to Soli she appreciates the effort

Raipora tells her that we each have a destiny, and that it is curious Saffron found all of us

and then Raipora asked about Soli’s feelings about Saffron, to which Soli explained she wants to help Saffron be safe and happy, because Soli didn’t get to have much of a childhood, so she wants to make sure Saffron has more happiness than she did.

Raipora reminded Soli that she has read a letter none of us have seen. a letter about saffron and the person looking for her. And Raipora made Soli promise to protect Saffron with her life.

Raipora greatly appreciated this, and told her “the Rootlock legacy must live on” and sent Soli away with no further explanation

Jade: so, what’d the crazy lady say?..She say freaky shit to you too?

Soli, absolutely full of shit and very obviously hiding a lot: uh..yeah..she just said to protect my friends and family

Jade, being the queen of minding her own damn business: eh, fair enough.

We ended session there, because we got a lot done, and it was getting late. so that was absolutely amazing, and Jade is super ready to tell Saffron some shit now, and she still has so many questions. this got kinda long, sorry! 😅😅😅

[the100epic]

Mackson meta

I love the relationship between Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller on The 100 and am in the mood to do a bit of meta, just to answer the questions ‘Who are they and what makes them work as a couple?’ Given their limited screen time, it was fun to mine what I could from limited material. First, a disclaimer - I’m only on episode 5 x 8.  

Looking at Jackson first, and starting with a few obvious things. He’s an adult when we first meet him, and he already has a good sense of purpose.  He’s a born healer. He’s quiet.  He is very serious, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders –given his limited time in front of the camera, we don’t know how often (or if) he lets his guard down and laughs. He probably puts the needs of others before his own – think of 5 x 2 when Abby tells him she’s happy for him (because he has Miller), and he immediately turns it around to ask how she is and express concern for her. He lost his mother, possibly when he was young, and it’s obvious that Abby has been his mother-figure for a long time. (Check the tears in his eyes in 1 x 1 when Kane is trying to float Abby). He decides to take the chip in Season 3, probably feeling desperate for a route towards ending the suffering of other people, something he always tries to do but can never succeed at.

 We don’t know if he’s ever been in another relationship before Miller. Maybe he has; he’s got to be at least 23 years old before the time jump and there had to have been some interested parties on the Ark. Or maybe he hasn’t; he’s clearly been working constantly ever since he’s been able to, so maybe he would have felt guilty for pursuing romance. However, I lean towards thinking that he has been in a relationship before. He is the one who makes the first move on Miller in Season 4, suggesting that he has some experience and confidence in this arena.

 We have more material on Miller (though still not enough). He is younger when the show starts, and I feel his personality was not yet fully developed or defined back then. Partially because of limited screen time, and partially because he is under 18 when the show starts and he just has some natural growing up to do. What we do see is that he has a sense of humor (such as during the ghost stories conversation with Bryan and Harper), and he appears loyal to Bellamy. Part of that loyalty is undoubtedly due to the fact that he is trying to do what all of The 100 is trying to do -  whatever it takes to survive. Miller does a good job of getting in with Bellamy’s group and being seen as a good foot soldier/ good lieutenant to Bellamy. This theme replays itself throughout the series; he is always a good solider, and in Season 5 it is the other Blake for whom he is a good lieutenant.

 We know three things about Miller’s time on the Ark.

1.    He has a father who loves him

2.    He has a boyfriend named Bryan

3.    He was arrested for stealing

 My head-canon is that his theft had to do with stealing a gift or something for Bryan, but there’s nothing in canon to back that up. We do know from season 2 that Miller is ashamed of what he had done, ashamed for having let his father down. We don’t know how long he was incarcerated before being sent down to earth, but you can be sure that he’s had plenty of time to think about the ramifications of his actions.

 We can also infer that he was training to be in the guard, like his father, back on the Ark. Miller’s too good of a solider by the time he gets to the ground for him to not have had some training.

 Before we can get to Mackson as a couple, I need to take a glimpse at “Briller” – Miller and his ex Bryan. They’re reunited in Season 3, and it must have been hard for them; at one point they surely must’ve thought they’d never see each other again. On top of that, there are serious, major life experiences that they do not share (Season one’s war with the Grounders, Miller’s experiences as a captive in Mount Weather just for starters). As far as we can tell, the two young men do try to make it work, which indicates to me that Miller likes being in a relationship, likes having someone to love. When Bryan is up on the Ark, Miller never cheats on him despite knowing that he might never see him again. Unlike with Finn, perhaps the opportunity never presented itself but this still suggests that one of Miller’s qualities is loyalty.

 My favorite conversation of Briller’s occurs at the end of Season 3 when they spend a minute dreaming of their future, thinking of how they’d love to have a farm and chickens. It gives a great glimpse into Miller’s head. He probably is a solider because he has to be, but he dreams of peace. During those years in the bunker, his dream of living on a farm must’ve felt even more remote than ever, though at least he had a man he loves to dream alongside.

 We never get the full story on why it didn’t work out with Bryan. Was it due mainly to their disagreement on how to handle the Azgeda slaves or was that just one factor among others? (That debate – freeing the slaves versus getting the equipment they need to survive - does deserve some more analysis which I won’t get into here). We can only speculate as to whether that was the main reason for the breakup, or if other reasons presented themselves. Given what we do see with Mackson though, I wonder if Bryan and Miller were just too similar.

 Because I see some good yin and yang with Mackson. Miller’s words in 5 x 2 to Jackson give us a great clue: “You’re a healer, not a fighter. That’s why I love you.” So we can add up the ways Jackson and Miller’s differences complement each other:

1.    The fighter and the healer

2.    Miller’s sense of humor contrasted with Jackson’s seriousness (Miller gets a rare smile out of Jackson in 4 X 9 during their scene in the rover)

3.    Miller’s impulsiveness contrasted with Jackson’s clinical detachment

4.    Possibly their age gap as well, with Jackson’s maturity being a plus for Miller. Remember that Miller’s father dies at the end of Season 4, right at the time that Mackson is taking off. I doubt Miller views Jackson as a father-figure in any way, but I do think Jackson’s maturity and ability to deal with other people’s pain provided a lot of balm for Miller. This experience had to have helped bond them.

 But for a relationship to work, the partners can’t be too different. There have to be similarities too. Here are some Mackson ones:

1.    They grew up with love. Miller’s dad and Jackson’s mom (whom we know less about, but we can infer a lot given the impact she made on his life) showed them love.

2.    This trait is usually viewed as a negative, but the truth is that both Miller and Jackson are followers, not leaders. Miller follows whoever is their military leader (Bellamy, Octavia, etc) and Jackson follows Abby. Being a follower carries stigma, but the flip side of that coin is that both are very loyal. And maybe it means they are smart survivors, knowing that if you want to stay alive, it can’t hurt to hitch your wagon to an alpha.

3.    Both are driven. Miller knows he made a mistake on the Ark, and he worked his butt off to survive on the ground and prove himself a valuable solider. And there’s no need to reiterate how driven and self-motivated Jackson must be in order to devote his life to healing.

4.    Every single character on The 100 has made morally questionable choices, and I need to point out that Mackson are no different. Even Jackson was willing to experiment on “Baylis” in Season 4, and was about to do so to Emori. You can see the agony in his eyes, but we do not get any lines of dialog to indicate that he spoke out or offered himself in their places (which Abby would never have accepted). They both have to live with their demons and their regrets like every other character on the show.

  Here’s something I wish I knew more about:  When Mackson first gets together, they were facing – as Miller quips – “fiery death in five days”. Their relationship could’ve easily been a fling and nothing more – just one last sexual encounter before the world ends, perhaps? I wonder when it became more, or whether it was always intended to be more than a fling. The next time we see them together, the five days have passed, Praimfaya is upon us, and they are clearly a couple (as we see in 4 x 12 – there are SO many looks and touches, including an unexplained, secret hand gesture, the type of move done by intimate couples). Did they have in-depth conversations to discuss what might happen if they both somehow survived Praimfaya? I can definitely see Jackson being the type who would want to think about and discuss this. Or did they realize that there was a good chance that one or both of them wouldn’t make it, and thus tacitly decide that the topic was just too painful to discuss? Maybe they just took the approach of living for the moment and hoping for the best? (And next, of course, would come the moment that they woke up from the gas and had to face the fact that Miller’s dad wasn’t chosen, and they would have to process that).  

 Also I wish I knew more about what prompted Jackson to make the first move. I suspect some fans view him as passive, given his interactions with Abby, his quiet demeanor. So I will always love the fact that he made the first move. Was it motivated solely by Praimfaya? Did Abby at some point tell Jackson that Miller was single now and that he should approach Miller? Was it something that Jackson had quietly wanted to do for a while? (Maybe he noticed Miller even back when Bryan was still a thing). Had Miller been giving him a few signals to let him know that he was open to something? Was Jackson lonely and just wanting to reach a deeper connection (whether it be sex or a relationship) with another human being, especially given what they were facing in Season 4? Or some combination of the above?

 No way of knowing this glimpse of their past, but I look forward to their future.

[madamslayyy]

Untitled Series XI

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE - INFORMATIONAL DIRECTORY  - PART FOUR - PART FIVE - PART SIX - PART SEVEN - PART EIGHT - PART NINE - PART TEN

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader

A/N: Yeah I know it’s been a min but I’m back on my bullshit so here we go!

~*~

The new semester started and things were back to normal. Well as normal as things could be.

You and Ty were as strong as before and nobody talked about what went down at his parents’ house.

Erik, of course, was back with the start of the new semester, this time single and back to his old Hoe™️ ways. You tried to pretend it didn’t phase you but it did. How could he claim to love you then get over you so quickly. Because you certainly weren’t over him.

You thought about him constantly, obsessing over his social media, watching the numerous videos and snaps of him being twerked on in the club, drinking bottle after bottle, having random girl after random girl perched on his lap. That was almost ninety percent of his social media presence, the other ten percent would show him in class, doing homework, or getting As on whatever assignment he posted.

‘At least he’s still going to class....’ you thought watching his snapstory. You were currently in Ty’s room, on his bed, while Ty was taking a shower. Even though your boyfriend was in the room right next to you, stark naked that is, he couldn’t be farther from your mind. The truth is, whenever Ty did enter your thoughts, you were overwhelmed with such guilt, you had no choice but to push him out of your mind.

No matter how you chose to twist the narrative, the fact remained the same: you’d cheated on him. You might not have slept with Erik but allowing him to get close enough to you to eat you out was still cheating. And you’d been keeping it from Ty for over a month now as it picked away at you. You had tried multiple times to tell him to no avail. At the end of the day, you were a coward.

“Y/N!” Ty said loudly, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Why are you yelling babe?” You asked, as he stood in front of you dripping wet in nothing but a towel.

“I called your name like five times, what’s going on in that head of yours?” He said leaning down to kiss you. You instinctively moved away without even thinking about it.

“Did I.... do something wrong?” Ty asked, his eyes searching yours.

“N-no, I’m just... not feeling it tonight, bae” you spluttered.

“Hmm.... you’ve been ‘not feeling it’ a lot lately. We okay?” Ty asked, sitting up.

“Peachy,” you smiled and with that he got up to get dressed. Even though the subject was dropped, the air was tense and awkward so you left shortly after, your heart sitting heavy in your chest.

~*~

It’d been about two weeks and you hadn’t seen neither Ty nor Erik. You knew you couldn’t avoid them forever but you were most certainly gonna try until you sorted out everything that was going on in your head.

Ty, of course, had no intention of letting that happen.

He called and texted you everyday just to make sure you were alright and when he could see you. You dodged him as much as you could but at the turn of the second week, he’d had enough.

It was almost 5 a.m. in the morning, about two hours before your first class when you heard someone pounding madly at your door. You had just woken up and was in the middle of brushing your teeth when you answered the door.

“Tyrell Beaudreux have you lost your mind!?” You said swinging the door open. He charged into the room, not waiting for an invitation.

“Tell me what I did wrong. What did I do to upset you so much that you’ve been avoiding me for the last couple of weeks? If you tell me, I can fix it Y/N but please baby stop leaving me in the dark,” Ty said, his big brown eyes pleading with you. You felt like you might have thrown up right then right there if your stomach wasn’t already empty since you’d just woke up.

“Hold on,” you said, walking back to your bathroom to finish brushing your teeth, a weak stalling tactic but at least it bought you a few extra seconds.

“Ty.... sit down...” you said entering the bedroom once more. He sat down but his face was contorted into a look of pure anguish. He knew whatever you were about to tell him, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Look Ty... I.... love you so muc-

“And I you, I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. That’s why we’re in a relationship,” he said standing, cupping your face between his hands. He leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head, causing him to peck your cheek.

“Ty please just let me finish, this is already hard enough as it is. “ He let your face go but remained standing.

“Look, when we were in Montreal... me and Erik... after the kiss... we talked.... the next night that is... and one thing led to another and there was.... another kiss,” you saw Ty flinch but you had no choice but to keep going “and we messed around a bit and it was all just a huge mistake that I regret more than anything and I’m so sorry but it’s not fair to you or me to keep this a secret.” You finished in one single breath, your words rushed. Ty’s eyes were swimming with emotion: anger, hurt, betrayal, everything yet he said nothing.

“What do you mean by fooled around? Did you sleep with him?” Ty asked in a harsh tone you weren’t used to hearing him use ever, least of all with you.

“No! God no! We just made a mistake-

“A mistake, eh? No a mistake was him kissing you when he ‘thought you were Lisa’ which we all know is a right crock of bullshit. No, Y/N, you made a choice, ye. You chose to give yourself to another man when you were supposedly committed to me! So how far did he go, huh? Under your shirt? Between your legs? Is there a part of you he hasn’t seen?” Ty yelled, his face flushing red with anger. You were at a loss for words, your silence a clear admission of guilt.

“Wow,” Ty said, charging for the door.

“And to think I really saw myself with you, eh. Like in the long run, you know. Marriage, picket fence, kids, the whole yard, ye. A right imbecile I was,” Ty said, his Canadian accent coming out strong with his anger.

“I’m sorry Ty! But I still love y-“ you never got to finish that sentence because he slammed the door behind him, his footsteps receding down the hall.

You’d expected some form of Deja Vu to take over from the time Erik had stormed out on you, for you to crumple to the floor and cry yourself into a stupor. But all you felt was an odd numbness take over as you grabbed your clothes and headed to your bathroom to take a shower.

~*~

“Shit Erik! Yes Daddy just like that! Punish this pussy! Fuck me like the dirty slut I am! Kill my shit Papi! Tell me I’m your favorite little whore! Spa-

“Will you shut up?” Erik said, clamping his hand over the girl beneath him’s mouth. He couldn’t remember her name, all he remembered was they headed back to her place after the club, fucked, he fell asleep (like a goddamn idiot), and she woke up horny, begging for round three.

Truthfully, she wasn’t nearly as attractive to him sober as she was last night but he always seemed to focus better in class if he’d busted a nut before so he had no problem complying to her sexual demands.

But he knew this was the last time he’d ever see her. She was much too thin, missing the excessive padding Erik was absolutely obsessed with, and she was also too loud. She was moaning before he even put the tip in and he hated that shit, it felt so inauthentic.

So now he was simply trying to get off as soon as he could so he could get the hell out of there. He had a special memory bank of you stored for moments exactly like these. Thoughts of you that night you offered yourself to him after the club, asking to taste him, eat him, flooded his mind. The sound of your moans were also his favorite, even if it was Ty eliciting those noises from you. And of course the gold that always pushed him over the edge to climax every single time was the memory of that night in Montreal. He’d imagine whatever warm body under him was you, whithering to his touch.

He could still feel your soft skin etched into his brain. Your smell, your breathy groans, your taste.... it took permanent residence in his thoughts and got him over the edge every time. He was so enamoured in his fantasy of you, he hadn’t noticed he’d finished inside the mystery woman until she spoke up.

“Damn papi, that was amazing. Careful with that shit, it’s addictive,” she winked at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled out, tying up the used condom and tucking it in his back pocket of his jeans while he slid them on. Believe it or not, he’d had his fair share of girls try to trap him, for what reason he’d never know. They must realize that he’d never give a shit about them, whether they carried his spawn or not. It was pathetic and always made Erik uneasy. Actually, most things concerning children made him uneasy. He wasn’t father material and he knew it. Hell he wasn’t husband material either, nor boyfriend material, and given how you and him hadn’t spoken to each other in months, he was pretty bad friend material too.

Even with things being dodgy before the whole Winter break fiasco, he knew there was no coming back from this one. It was really over between you two. No communication whatsoever and that was probably for the best. Erik couldn’t control himself around you, couldn’t control his judgement, and couldn’t control his emotions. You made him reckless and raw. And he couldn’t handle it. So he was content with living with the memory of what you two were. He knew the whole “Time Heals All Wounds” notion was bullshit but he did know that it would dim over time. That’s what he kept telling himself at least. To just give it time.

Erik was on his way across campus on his way to class when he saw him. Ty. He looked bad surprisingly. The boy was always light on the facial hair, but he now sported a thick, overgrown beard. If it were the old days when their friendship was strong, he’d recommend him to his barber, get his shit looking crispy like Erik’s, but those days were long gone. He looked like he’d lost weight, which was hard considering he probably couldn’t be more that 120 lbs soaking wet anyway. He also had dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t got a decent night’s sleep in a while. Overall, he just had a haunted vibe about him, one that only intensified when he laid his dead eyes on Erik.

“Got something you wanna say man?” Erik said, stopping in front of him. Erik was always ready for a fight but he really hoped Ty didn’t take the bait. Even if they weren’t friends anymore, Erik didn’t wanna hit him when he was in this state. It wasn’t right nor fair.

“I hope you’re happy, mate. Finally got what you wanted, eh?” He said in a deadpan voice.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Erik asked as he cocked an eyebrow. Maybe Ty was as crazy as he looked.

“You’ll hurt her. Throw her away the same way you do every fucking body else. Can’t really say I blame you though,” Ty let out a humorless laugh.

“And why is that?” Erik said through gritted teeth.

“Because you’re empty inside. You don’t give a shit about anyone, including yourself. And she’ll realize that. Realize I’ll love her more than you ever could. And she’ll be back,” Ty said, and before Erik could ask one of the numerous questions he had, he walked off.

Erik stood there for another ten solid minutes trying to figure out what the hell Ty was talking about but one thing out of all of this was crystal clear. Y/N and him were over. She was single. And he hadn’t heard a peep from her, which sent the loudest message of all.

She wanted nothing to do with him period. Boyfriend or not. It stung Erik but he knew deep down she never felt the same. So with that, he trailed his way to his class, limbs heavy trying his hardest to not feel the ocean of hurt that ate at his heart.

~*~

A/N: So what yall think? I rewrote this chapter like four times with different scenarios but in the end i decided on this one because I feel it flows easier that their still in college (even though they lowkey about to graduate). But anyway I just wanna say thanks to everyone who interacted with my last chapter and i will be going back and responding those after I post this. Going back and reading all those replies, I just KNEW i couldn’t leave it like that for yall.  Let me know yall’s theories or if you want to be added to/ deleted from the taglist.

Taglist:  @sassyxsagittarius @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat@imasmille@iamrheaspeaks@myaw731@whoawhoababywhoa@inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove@chaneajoyyy@myboyfriendgiriboy@theunsweetenedtruth@cancerianprincess@wawakanda-btch@laketaj24 @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls@sugardaddytonystark@getinmelanin011@pananegra@violet-ines@stars8melanin@tchallas-klaws@savagefromspruce@l7nikkifn@areubeingserved @itsmarshalltime98@adahjones@macfizzle@avengershavethetardis@adahjones @peter-pans-panda  @sleep-and-i-dont-get-along@weyheycraicey @little-toxic-angel@queennanayaaswimminginfandoms1020@ultracrii@bossyboyd03@lovelyangelofasgard @zuzuspanda@raveennn@msirii @m-mokkori @muse-of-mbaku@blackpanthersmut @chefjessypooh

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[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day three.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~3.1k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (THIS chapter), mental breakdown (THIS chapter), Tom being Tom

A/N: This chapter contains very personal experiences for me. I wanted the main character to be flawed (because we all are), and the only thing I could write about that would be authentic was something that I’ve gone through myself. If you have troubles with mental breakdowns and depressive thoughts, either proceed with caution or skip this chapter all together.

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. ||

“Good morning, darling.” He greeted once he heard me enter the room. “Did you sleep well?” He finally looked up to take in my appearance. I fully expected him to flinch. There must be dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, my hair must be a mess from running my fingers through it in frustration when I couldn’t find the word I was looking for, my clothes wrinkled from the constant position changed they endured through the night- in other words, I look like a wreck. But he didn’t seem to notice or care. He still watched me, waiting for me to answer.

“I actually haven’t been to sleep yet.” I dragged my fuzzy sock clad feet over to where he was standing getting a delicious whiff of the pig fat that was frying in the pan.

He slipped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his body. “Oh yeah? Were you writing?” I nodded, leaning into him welcoming the warmth it brought me. I lazily wrapped my arms around his narrow waist, surprising myself by how natural this all feels. This physical contact is new to whatever this is we have going on here, but I like it. I like having his strong arm around me, keeping me close to him like he actually wants me there. I tucked comfortable under his arm as he draped it over my shoulder. I would have buried my face in his neck but I didn’t want to push it. “Well then, let’s get your beautiful brain some food before you go back on up to bed.” He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before he returned his attention to the stove. He watched me consume the three strips he gave me before escorting me back up to my room. He cleared off my bed before tucking me in. I was out before he shut my door.

By the time I woke up, my room was pitch black. I found Tom downstairs reading on the couch. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” I questioned as I plopped down on the opposite end. “Now I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Because, darling, you were exhausted and you deserved to rest.” He set his book down next to him before standing up. “Shall I make you some dinner? I’m having a real hankering for some grilled cheese.” The cheesy (pun-intended) smile he plastered on his face was heart-stopping. How could anyone say no to it? He came to stand in front of me, holding out both hands. I happily took them as he pulled me up.

“Again?” I giggled. He started walking backwards, bringing me along with him since he hasn’t let go of my hands yet. They sent warmth throughout my entire body as all of the blood rushed to my face.

All traces of playfulness disappeared reminding me of the pictures I’ve seen of him as Loki. “Oh yes, darling. You’ve created a monster.” He stopped, yanking me to him. My body collided with his, with him catching me like I weighed nothing at all. His arms captured my waist as my arms were crushed between us as I had braced myself for impact. His eyes stayed locked on mine as his voice dropped a few octaves. “A bacon and pickle grilled cheese loving…” His head bent down towards my ear. I could feel his hot breath against my neck. I had to restrain myself from shivering. “Monster.” He almost growled into my ear.

And in one split second, he went from sexy God Tom to playful “Loki’d” Tom as his large hands attacked my sides. The initial contact warranted a very loud shriek, but it was quickly replaced with cackles and pleas for him to stop. I wiggled my way out of his grip and ran into the kitchen to take refuge in. He chased me around the place until I complained of a side ache from too much running and laughing at the same time. We called a temporary truce until I sneakily decided to kick it up a notch. I’d seen them happen multiple times in movies and TV shows and have always wanted to be a part of one. I figured now would be the perfect opportunity. I found myself in the pantry, looking for the perfect weapon to use against him. It can’t be something too big that it’ll hurt him, but I want it to make a mess. Flour is the obvious choice, but I also don’t want to be cliché… Oh to hell with that. I grabbed the huge tub of it and hid it behind a cupboard for future use. I scooped a handful into my hand for my sneak attack. I spotted my clueless victim as he prepared the bread. I went right up to him, hiding all trace of my impending betrayal.

“What were you doing in there?” He asked when he noticed my return.

“Planning my next move.” I brought my flour-filled hand up to his face as he looked at me confused. I blew as I opened my hand, covering his entire face with the white powder. His mouth and eyes snapped shut, flinching away slightly. We stayed still while he processed what just happened. When he finally opened those beautiful blue eyes again, there was vengeance written all over them.

“Oh it’s so on.”

Ten minutes later we were sat on the floor covered in flour, laughing at how ridiculous the other looks. The white powder stuck to our hair, turning it all gray, it clung to our clothes and every single surface it came into contact with.

“I think I have flour in places flour should never be.” He commented, shifting his hips against the floor causing me to fold over in continued laughter. My tears mixed with the flour on my face creating a paste-like substance that will be impossible to wash off later. But right now I didn’t care.

I looked over at the man in front of me who was equally covered in white. His ginger locks and beard were now gray, making him age 30 years right in front of my eyes. To say he will be a hot silver fox is the biggest understatement of the century. I couldn’t help but picture us in that 30 years reliving this moment in our own kitchen, our grandchildren playing along with us, getting scolded by our kids when they came to pick them up. But then I would look at him, all gray-haired and perfect and know that I-

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you…” He trailed off breaking me out of my fantasy. I didn’t realize we both stopped laughing and silence had filled the room until he spoke. He was fidgeting with his hands in his lap, his gaze locked on them. When I realized what he had said, my heart dropped slightly. Panic was lingering, not knowing if it should rear its ugly head or if it would be premature. He took an abnormally long pause which only made it worse. It is the same feeling when someone texts you saying “Can I ask you a question?” and then taking forever to respond to your text back. Agony. Pure agony. “Are you… spoken for?” He finally met my eyes, probably to gauge my reaction. Did he think he was crossing the line somehow? Did he think it was too personal? Was he afraid I would get emotional due to a recent break up? Who knows…

Am I spoken for? Who in the world phrases it like that anymore? Why don’t we speak like that nowadays? We’ve gotten so lazy. Everyone is all about the quick fling or get straight to the physical stuff. No one courts anymore. No one writes long, handwritten love letters anymore. I’m not saying we should talk like Shakespeare, more like in the early to mid-1900s. Going on long walks, bringing her flowers before a date, picnics in the park, then escorting her to her front door, giving a sweet good night kiss before parting ways only to have a smile on your face for the rest of the night.

Like Tom said in an interview a few years ago, “This generation has lost the true meaning of romance,” and how he is an “old-fashioned romantic.” It’s sad that he hasn’t really been given the chance to show that side. And if he has, it hasn’t been appreciated like it should.

Am I spoken for? The only person that could possibly make that sound like the most romantic thing in the world and not at all old-fashioned is sitting right in front of me, covered in flour.

“Okay, first of all, who says that anymore?” I voiced my previous thoughts. He chuckled, breaking the serious façade he put up.

“Well pardon me for being old-fashioned about it.” He placed his hand over his heart in offense. “I am a self-proclaimed romantic.” He stated confirming what he has previously said.

“And second of all, no.” I shrugged, “I’m not spoken for. I am completely unattached.” I shudder thinking about how long it has been since my last relationship and how painful it was. That heartbreak has kept me from opening up again for years. I didn’t want to feel that kind of earth-shattering feeling again. It’s only partly to blame for my perpetual singleness, but a big part nonetheless.

“I find that quite surprising actually.” He admitted.

“Why? Because of my winning personality and devastatingly good looks?” I flipped my current non-existent long hair over my shoulder for effect. I don’t think I have either so I know those are also parts of why I’m single and have been.

He chuckled at my sarcasm. “Why, yes actually. You are beautiful, you have a phenomenal sense of humor,” he gestured around us at everything covered in flour, “you know how to have fun, you like having relaxing nights just sitting on the couch reading, or in your case, writing,” he smiled, “you’re obviously independent since you are on vacation alone-”

“Well that’s not necessarily true.” I interrupted. “My friend would have joined if she could have gotten off work.”

“Alright then.” He conceded. “I still stand by your independence though.” I nodded, not arguing with him. I know I’m independent, sometimes to a fault.

“So, you think you got me all figured out after knowing me for 3 days?” I concluded from his compliments.

“Oh no, darling. I believe I’ve just scratched the surface.” He intensely gazed at me. “And I’m eager to see what else there is to learn about you.”

I found myself asking him “Why?” Why, out of all of the people in the world, is he eager to learn more about me? I’m just a woman from the Midwest that is as complicated as anyone can be. “There’s nothing special about me.” I confessed wholeheartedly. Even if he knew I’m a published author, I still don’t see what’s so interesting that someone like him would want to get to know me? There are so many issues that I’ve buried deep beneath the surface that no human should have to bare or anyone else should have to endure. Dark thoughts that only comes out at night thanks to a trigger… No one else deserves to carry the burden of knowing I have those thoughts. Especially Tom.

“Do you truly believe that?” He asked with a hint of sadness I never wanted to hear or even expected.

“How can I not? When there are so many others out there that are more successful, prettier, skinnier…” I wrap my arms around my stomach, one of my many trouble spots. I’ve always been self-conscious about the way I look. I compare myself to everyone around, no matter what. I always have and I more than likely always will. I know it’s not healthy. It’s just one of my countless bad habits. “It’s hard to see myself as anything more than ordinary. I mean, I know I’m not a-” I use air quotes- “’hot girl.’ I’m probably never going to take anyone’s breath away or impress anyone with the way I look, but I can make you laugh and make you feel wanted, and sometimes I can be really fucking cute. I just wish that could be enough. Just once.” I shrugged again, wanting to change the subject. The way he’s looking at me with such sadness when mere moments ago he was filled with pure joy, I want that gone. So I stood up. “Shall we eat or clean up first?”

For the rest of the night, there was something… off. Like there was a dark cloud hovering over us and was persistent for the entirety of the time we spent together after we peeled ourselves off the floor. I knew the reason for my dark cloud, but even he seemed to be thrown off too.

Not being able to deal with the new weirdness between us, I excused myself and retreated to my room. The heaviness continued all night. I found myself just staring off into the distance as my mind raced with topics I haven’t thought about in years that love to surface at the most inconvenient times, like now. They put me into a funk for hours until I fall asleep, only to wake up like nothing ever happened. I can only hope this is one of those times and Tom forgives me for being sucky company.

More often than not, I will work myself up so badly that I will have a mental breakdown, crying myself into hyperventilation. Unfortunately this time is no exception. My thoughts latched onto the topic that guarantees waterworks and a lot of them. My sobs literally shaking my entire body to the core, gasping for breaths in between, asking questions no one will be able to give me answers to. The kinds of questions only sink me deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Light knocks on my door broke me out of my depression bubble.

Crap. He must have heard me… Well, I haven’t exactly tried being quiet. I banked on the walls being thicker than standard hotels and for him to be a deep sleeper. Both seem to be wrong.

I lay there going over my options: I could ignore him, I could answer and lie about why I’m emotional, I could tell him the truth but that’s not something he needs to worry about…

There’s no way I can ignore him. He was kind enough to leave his room to come and check on me. The least I could do is let him in. However I don’t want him to see me. My eyes are no doubt bloodshot and puffy, along with the rest of my face. I can’t lie to him or tell him the truth. I decide what the easiest option is and unwrap myself from my cocoon of comfort. I slide my room key under the door before returning to the warmth. 

Seconds go by before I hear the door gently opening. I see his shadow in the light of the doorway then it’s dark again. The bed dipped behind me then his hand rested on my shoulder, pulling me back to face him. I lie flat on my back now like he wanted. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering; I tried to even out my shaky breathing without much success. I didn’t want him to think I’m weak for crying for God-knows how long… but those walls have long since been shattered; my strength being abysmal at the moment.

Even in the pitch black room, I can see how close he is. His outline was only mere inches from me. His hand caresses my cheek as I feel his gaze all over my face as if he can see right through me. His thumb wipes away some of the moisture that had remained there. I didn’t bother to try to wipe it all away if more tears were going to flow eventually.

“Oh darling…” He whispered as he slipped his other arm under and around me, pulling me into his chest, tucking me under his chin. An overwhelming sense of comfort- of home- filled my entire being, which only brought on another wave of tears. I’ve never had anyone around during my breakdowns, always suffering in silence. For him to immediately want to comfort me in my time of need… it means more to me than I could ever explain.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured against my hair before pressing a tender kiss on my head. He runs his hand softly up and down my arm just like my mom used to do on my back. His touch created goosebumps all along my arm.

“What could you possibly be sorry for?” I ask just above a whisper, not trusting my voice at the moment.

He sighed, “For all of the pain that is in your heart that you feel you have to suffer with it alone.”

No more words were exchanged after that. How could I when he says something like that?

What I didn’t anticipate him doing was he took care of me. He got me the Kleenex box so my nose could empty out. He rubbed my back whispering soothingly, encouraging me to let it all out. He even went as far as starting the shower for me after I was sure the floodgates were closing. I stepped in letting the hot water relax my muscles and wash over my face, eliminating any evidence of the past few hours. I washed my body with my peach body wash before getting out. I smiled, noticing my bag that was now sitting on the vanity. I rummaged through it to find a different pair of pajamas to get back into.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Tom was waiting for me on the bed. I climbed in and he immediately wrapped his arms around me, pulling me so close there was no space between us. I inhaled the faint smell of his cologne, instantly lulling me into a new sense of calm which terrified me to no end. How can I feel so safe and secure with someone I just met a few days ago? How can he give me everything with no questions asked?

It wasn’t long before I felt myself slip into unconsciousness. There was only one thing on my mind by the time I finally fell… I don’t deserve him, but I sure as hell want to.

day four...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

[stupid-jeans]

how to return home ch5 (Jalton, M)

This is five for real this time, guys! Sorry for the delay...so many random side projects this week!! From the comments, though, I don’t think any of you minded. ;)

(Please note the change in rating!)

Over here on AO3

Chapter summary/notes: Jaz finally actually talks to McG and has a problematic dream about Adam. Gavin is a terrible influence. There is moonshine. Please note the increase in rating!! Thanks again to my lovely beta, @undercoverwatermoon.

McG calls her just as she's setting out on her morning run, and Jaz decides that's as good a reason as any to just walk for the day. Not to mention, it's substantially hotter today than yesterday. Summer comes fast in the south.

"Just checking in," he says. "Don't tell anyone but you're my favorite and I kinda miss having you around."

"I’m everyone's favorite," she says, grinning as affection blooms in her chest. The chasm that had so abruptly formed between them after Elijah's passing had mended. In some ways, she feels like she and McG are closer than ever.

"What can we say? We have good taste."

"I'm sorry, was that a genuine compliment? Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should have your mom check you out," she teases, detouring from her usual path to head to the convenience store instead. She's already sweating and it's barely 8am.

"I'm feeling just fine. Just missed you giving me shit all the time," he chuckles. "So, uh, you talk to Top lately?" She knows instantly that he's fishing. She shouldn't really be surprised, but her cheeks warm thinking about talking to Adam. Dreaming about him.

"We talked yesterday. Why?" At least she's pretty good at keeping her voice neutral. She snags a Gatorade from the cooler and a breakfast bar from the register. Sitting at the bar in the window, she takes advantage of the air conditioning.

"Just wondering is all," McG drawls. She can hear his shit-eating grin from a thousand miles away.

"You talk to Amir lately? Seems like things are heating up between him and Hannah."

The abrupt turnaround has the desired effect of knocking McG down a couple pegs. They spend the rest of the conversation discussing their teammate and his blossoming romance.

She spends the entire walk home trying not to think about Adam.

**

Weekdays, she's mostly alone at the house. Connie volunteers at the library and Dale still works at the bank. Gavin teaches theater at the high school, which isn't out for another week. So Jaz usually takes a nap after lunch.

Without Adam's voice in her ear, her daytime dreams usually stay pretty boring. But for some reason, her talk with McG means she hasn't stopped thinking about Top since the morning. So she drifts off, thinking for the millionth time about kissing him, and it's no surprise where that leads.

Except this time, it's not just kissing. No, this time, his hands slip under her shirt, his fingers sweeping up her sides, following the faint contours of her ribs. He palms her breast unapologetically, like he belongs there--like she belongs to him--and if she had any breath left, Jaz might've begged him to just touch her, to feel what it did to her.

But Adam touching her like this makes her breathless and dizzy, and it's all she can do to arch into his hand as his thumb teases over her nipple. And then his mouth covers the other one, and she thinks she might die, because his mouth is fucking perfect, and she can practically feel the rumble of his groan as his tongue teases her skin. It makes her imagine his mouth other places.

It's that thought that she wakes up to, with a frustrated growl. Her phone is buzzing and for a second, she thinks it might be Adam (that thought definitely makes her blush just now), but it's Gavin's name on the screen.

"I have, like, two minutes. But you, me, moonshine, lake? I'm off in an hour," he says.

"My kinda date," she agrees, hoping she sounds somewhat normal and not like she just woke up from an incredibly hot sex dream about her off-limits boss.

"I'll pick you up. Gotta run. Love you!"

And with him gone again, Jaz is left with a choice: a cold shower or an indulgence in the fantasy her mind had so perfectly crafted. She opts for the latter (though, honestly, it feels a little weird being in Elijah's bed), and slips her hand under her shorts. Thinking of his mouth again, Jaz imagines his tongue against her, teasing over her clit the way her fingers are right now. She pictures his eyes, watching her intently. And in what seems like mere seconds, Jaz is coming apart, shuddering through her pleasure, his name slipping almost too easily past her lips. It's the best orgasm she's had in a really, really long time.

After she's recovered enough to breathe evenly, there's just enough time to pull herself together and take a shower before Gavin shows up to meet her. Jaz thinks about texting Adam, but she has no idea what to say.

**

Going to the lake with Gavin is the perfect distraction. They lay out on the boat in the late afternoon sun, enjoying the quiet and the bottle of moonshine one of Gavin's students had given him as a gift.

"That's a nice perk," Jaz notes, amused, as she takes a sip straight from the bottle. She knows exactly how potent that shit is, so she chases the swig with water a few seconds later.

"What can I say? I have fans."

"I've been meaning to ask, since we spend all this time talking about me, you given any thought to dating again?" She says it carefully, wondering if it's too soon.

"I think about it sometimes," he admits after a pause. "It's not like I think he'd hold it against me, you know? He'd want me to be happy."

"But," Jaz prompts, waiting.

"But what if I'm being selfish?"

"What?" She sits up to look at him. "Why would you ever think you were selfish?"

"Maybe you only get one great love, you know? I had mine. Maybe that's enough."

"And maybe it's not," she counters. "You're 32. Your life isn't over."

"I mean, being a single gay man after 30 is basically death," he says, so dramatically that Jaz can only roll her eyes and sigh at him.

"You won't know unless you try."

"Now you sound like one of those inspirational calendars."

Jaz wonders if she's been spending too much time around Preach.

"Look, you can't just ask me to think about things with Adam and then not be willing to at least put yourself out there," she says. "Just make yourself a profile on Tinder or whatever. It's not like it takes any work."

"Says the girl who's never crafted a dating profile in her life," Gavin challenges.

"How do you know?"

"Jaz. When was the last time you went on more than a hook-up date with a guy you picked up in a bar? Probably somewhere exotic?" He fixes her with a stare that dares her to dispute him.

"Fine," she concedes. "But you're not gonna let a little fear get in your way, are you? I didn't take you for a chicken."

"I should throw you overboard for that."

"Oh, you can try!"

In the end, they both end up in the water, wrestling and laughing until the fight ebbs into comfortable silence, both of them floating and looking up at the sky.

“I’ll give it a try,” he says eventually. “For you. We both deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah. We do.”

Jaz thinks about Adam again, and her cheeks flush. She's grateful Gavin's not looking at her. For now, her secret is safe. She doesn't think it'll last long at all.

**

Her assessment is accurate, because Jaz's secret lasts until after dinner, when she and Gavin crawl into the bed of the pickup with the rest of the moonshine.

"So you've been fussing with your phone all night. What gives?" he asks. She reaches for the bottle and he holds it away from her. "Uh-uh. Answer first."

"I could totally kick your ass and just take it from you, you know that, right?"

"You wouldn't dare hurt little innocent me," he gasps in mock horror, clutching his chest with his free hand, the other still withholding the alcohol. "Spill."

Jaz groans and slumps dramatically against the back of the cab. "I had a dream. About Adam."

"A dream," Gavin echoes. Realization dawns and he sits up, rod-straight, staring at her like he just won the lottery. "A sex dream!"

"Jesus, keep your voice down," she mutters, casting a glance back at the house. She'd be mortified if Elijah's parents heard this conversation.

"Sorry. A sex dream?" He whisper-shouts this time.

"Yes. And it was...really hot, okay? And all I can think about is talking to him again and it's making me insane. Happy now?" Jaz lunges for the bottle and snatches it away from him, taking a healthy sip, only coughing a little after swallowing it down.

"You have to tell him."

"What?!" This time, it's her voice that carries across the yard. "I can't do that. Are you insane?"

"Jaz. Come on. Live a little. If he doesn't respond, then fine. You have, what? Another six weeks to forget about it? But what if he does? You can at least have a little fun," Gavin pleads, giving her a fairly impressive puppy-dog look.

God help her, she actually considers it. And then takes another sip of moonshine. And then picks up her phone and opens her messages.

"This could ruin my career, you know."

"Okay, Drama Queen," he huffs, rolling his eyes.

She stares at her screen and types.

 J: i had a dream about you today.

She hits send before she can chicken out, and then throws her phone at Gavin.

"I can't believe I just did that!"

"You're my favorite person. Have I told you that lately?"

"Oh my God. What if he doesn't text back?" she groans, burying her face between her knees.

"Um, except he just did."

Jaz snatches the phone back from him so fast, she almost drops it.

 A: Oh? What about?

Innocuous. Of course he wouldn't assume anything.

"What do I tell him?" she almost whines.

Gavin takes the phone back and just types 'things... ;)' before showing it to Jaz. She waves him on. It's not any worse than what she'd come up with.

 A: Care to be more specific?

Oh. She swallows. He's playing along.

"Good Lord, you're in trouble now," Gavin laughs, delighted. "And my work here is done for the night. I'll leave you to your late night digital rendezvous. I'll see you at breakfast."

"No! You're leaving me with this? I don't know what to do with this!"

"Honey, something tells me you'll figure it out just fine." He kisses her forehead and hops down from the truck. Carrying his moonshine off into the darkness, he leaves Jaz with her phone.

 J: we were kissing.

 A: I do miss kissing you.

 J: you do?

 A: Yeah. I think about it a lot.

 J: me too, it's why i had the dream in the first place. i haven't stopped thinking about it all day.

 A: Must've been some dream ;)

Did Adam Dalton just wink at her? In text? She feels like a giddy teenager, sneaking secret messages in the dark. It's not terribly far from the truth.

 J: there may have been more than kissing.

 A: That could mean a lot of things...

 J: you were teasing me. under my shirt.

It takes her a good thirty seconds to work up the courage to send it, and then she stares at the three dots that almost instantly appear next to Adam's name. It feels at least twice as long before his text comes through.

 A: Jesus, Jaz.

 J: and then it wasn't just your hands

 A: My mouth?

 J: yeah. and then i woke up.

There was another long pause this time. She's given him the chance to let it go. She's convinced he'll take it.

 A: Was that all?

Her breath stalls and she closes her eyes. The air suddenly feels too warm.

 J: not exactly

 A: Then what?

 J: i thought about your mouth on me...

 A: Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?

Alone in the dark, Jaz actually whines at that. Somehow knowing she's making him hard makes everything so much more real.

 J: guess I shouldn't tell you how hard i made myself come..

 A: has anyone ever told you you're a tease?

 J: it's been mentioned...you complaining?

 A: Not in the least.

 J: cuz i can just stop...

 A: Don't you dare.

The command in it makes her shift and press her thighs together. She wishes Gavin had left her the damn moonshine.

 J: what should i do instead?

 A: Jaz...

 J: i want you to tell me or i wouldn't be asking.

It feels like several eternities before he responds. Jaz doesn't think any text has ever taken longer.

 A: Touch yourself for me...tell me how wet you are

For the second time today, Jaz gives in. And this thing that's been growing between them morphs  again. There's no going back now. Tonight, Jaz is perfectly okay with that. She'll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.

[chmergess4ever]

Helium (Part 4)

Glad you are all enjoying the story! There is plenty more coming so stay tuned!! Let me know what you think!! 

Shortly after, Val and Sharna resituated themselves against the headboard and settled on watching on of their favorite movies together. Within a half hour Val had dozed off but Sharna was still fully engaged. She laughed, and he didn’t wake up, she nudged him and he didn’t wake up, it seemed as if he was gone for the night. She laughed as she remembered how she used to think his face when he was sleeping was so cute. She thoughts were interrupted by hi phone ringing, which he didn’t wake up for. She reached for it and saw Jenna calling, her heart dropped into her stomach. “Val.” She whispered as she shook him, “Val.”

“Mhmmm.” He grumbled and rolled over.

His phone rang again and again and again. Eventually it stopped but the silence was only again interrupted by Sharna’s phone ringing.

“Hey Peta.”

“Is he still with you?”

“What?”

“Is Val still with you? Jenna just called me. Said he’s not answering his phone and she hasn’t heard from him all day.”

Sharna sighed, “He’s with me.”

“I knew it. I knew it. Did you guys-”

“No! Peta, No! You know i would never do that.”

“When it comes to you and Val, I don’t know anything.”

“Well can you at least tell him to call his girlfriend. His actual girlfriend.”

“I can’t. He fell asleep and I can’t wake him up. Can you just call Jen back and tell her that he’s ok?”

“And what am I supposed to tell her?! He’s with you?”

“No! Hell No! Please Pete, just figure something out.”

“You promise you’re not doing something wrong.”

“I promise.”

“I’ll take care of it then.”

“Thank you.”

Sharna fell asleep shortly after that. It felt good to have him next to her again. There was no feeling like it. The next morning she woke up nestled in his shoulder with her hand on his chest. She groggily looked around trying to get a hold of her surroundings, she nudged him to wake him, “Val.” As he began waking up she resituated herself so she was farther from him. As soon as he was awake and alert he came to his sense, “Shit!.”

“What?”

“I never went home. Jenna!”

“Peta took care of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jenna was calling you and then since you weren’t answering she got worried and called Peta, then Peta called me. She said she would handle it.”

Val ran his hand through his loose curls. “I should probably go.”

“Yea, you should.” The smile disappeared from her face.

He got up and brushed himself off trying to make himself look presentable after sleeping in his clothes. He put his arms out for a hug, “Do I get one?”

“Of course you do.” She got up and walked around the bed to where he was standing. She walked into his hug as he wrapped his arms around her. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and rested his chin on top of her head as they both didn’t let go of the embrace.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as she heard the tears in his throat.

“For what?” She whispered back.

“For not being the man I should’ve been when I was with you.”

“Val, You were everything I needed. Never feel like anything about us was your fault. Because, it wasn’t.”

He nodded reluctantly while looking to the side as she looked up at him. She spoke softly, “what? What’s on your mind?”

“My mind’s a little fucked up right now, Shar.”

With looking at him she knew what he was talking about because she felt it too. “Don’t worry.” She whispered. “I’m here for you. I’ll be here. We’re not going back to what we were.”

He nodded and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll talk to you later.” He let go of her and walked out of the room. As she watched him go she felt a tear escape from her eye before falling back onto the bed and yelling into her pillow.

Val got in his car and took a deep breath. I don’t know what to do. He thought. He started driving and called Jenna back but it went to voicemail. “Hey Babe. Sorry I missed your calls last night. I was at a friends and I fell asleep but I’m good. I’m on my way home right now but I’m going to stop and Maks and Peta’s really quick. I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.”

He clicked the end button and rested his head backwards into the headrest. He pulled into his brothers driveway, got out of the car and locked it behind him. He walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. Peta answered and sighed when she saw his facial expression. “Come in.”

Val followed her inside back into the kitchen where she was previously and sat down on the barstool opposite to where she was standing slicing a carrot. “Maks isn’t here right now.”

“I know. I actually came to talk to you.”

Peta raised her eyebrows, “to talk to me?” “Yea. If that’s ok.”

“Of course that’s ok.” Peta put down the knife and looked at Val. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m really really confused right now.”

“About what?” “Jenna- Sharna- Jenna and Sharna.” “Continue.”

“I don’t know Peta, I’m happy with Jenna, I am. But, when I’m with Sharna I feel different. I don’t think about anyone else, or anything else. I just thinking about being there with her. And i don’t know where to go with this. Cause I know, I shouldn’t be feeling these feelings but, I am. I think I still love her. Actually, I’m beyond that-I know I’m still in love with her.”

Peta looked at him as she processed her thoughts, “Does she know?”

“Sharna?” “Yes.”

“I don’t know. The timing of it all is just bad.” He put his head down in his hands and shook it.

“I would tell her. Make sure she is feeling the same way.”

“So you think I should pick Sharna?”

“At this rate Val, I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“You love her. She’s the one for you. And the reason your coming to me, is not because you don’t know who to pick but you don’t know what to do about Jenna.”

“But, Peta-”

“Val. Do you love Sharna Burgess?” “Yes. 100%. Very very much. But-”

“But what?”

“I love Jenna too.”

“Who are you in love with?”

Val took a deep breath and thought for a minute, “Sharna.” He said softly. He was afraid that he didn’t even have to think about it.

Peta nodded knowingly.

“I keep hurting Jenna, Peta. I told her I wouldn’t hurt her this time.”

“It’s going to hurt her more in the end if you get deeper into the relationship and then tell her how you feel.”

Val nodded slowly. “So I tell her?” “You tell her.”

“And I talk to Sharna?”

“You talk to Sharna. Yes.”

Val patted the countertop and stood up. “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.” He walked over to his sister in law and gave her a hug, “Thank you.”

“That’s what sisters are for.”

He pulled up his bluetooth options and clicked Sharna’s name before backing out of the driveway and starting to drive home.

“Hey.”

He smiled when he heard her voice, “Hey. How’s your mom?”

“She’s good. I’m at the hospital right now and she’s making a speedy recovery.”

“That’s good.” Silence fell upon them.

“You know you don’t have to keep calling to ask? Right? I know you care. You’re good.”

“If I’m being completely honest, it’s not why I called.”

“Why did you?”

Val cleared his throat and shook his head in disbelief what he was about to do. “You have a minute?” “Sure. Lemme just walk out of the room for a second.”

He waited for her to tell him that he was good to go. His heart pounded out of his chest and he could feel his adrenaline raise.

“Okay, Babe. I can hear you better now. What’s up?”

“I had fun yesterday.”

“I did too.” She smiled on the other end of the phone. “Have a feeling that’s not why you called though.”

“I don’t know how to say this.”

She knew what he was going to say and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it, 

“Val.”

“I just-”

“Val, please don’t. I think I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want you to say it. I don’t want to ruin what we have going right now. We’re friends. We’re in a good place.”

“Sharna, I don’t want to lie to myself.”

“Val, you don’t have to lie to yourself. Lord knows i’m not lying to myself. But, you’re dating someone. Someone who loves you. And I don’t want you to mess that up to be with me.”

“What if I said I want you?”

He heard her sigh. “I’d say I want you too.”

“So, you feel the same way?”

She sighed. “Of course I do, Val. I never stopped feeling that way.”

“Me either.”

There was silence between them, neither knowing what to say, but eventually Sharna broke it.

“Val, You have a girlfriend. One, who loves you and I don’t want to you to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I don’t want to hurt her either, but I don’t know how to avoid that. Because, I need to have you.”

“You have no idea how much I love hearing you say that.”

He smiled until he heard her next words, “But. This isn’t right. We can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Say these things to each other when you’re in a relationship.” “But we’re friends. You said it yourself and being friends with me isn’t cheating, Shar.”

“Val, I think you and I both know, that the way we were behaving yesterday and the conversation we’re having now is not things normal friends do. We can’t be anything. Friends. More than friends. Until Jenna knows how you feel. I’ve been cheated on, and I’m not doing that to someone else.”

“So we just go back to square one. Not talking?”

“For now, babe.”

He didn’t say anything back. He knew she was right. After a few moments of silence, he answered, “So, where does that leave us then?”

“You end things with Jenna and we take things slow. Do it right the next time.”

“So there is going to be a next time?”

“Yes.” She said quietly. “Given, you’re not in a relationship.”

“You’ll wait?”

“For you? Yes. Always.”

“I love you, Sharna.” He smiled to himself knowing he found her.

“Mhmm. Call me when you’re single Mr. Chmerkovskiy.”

“You know I will.”

Sharna hung up the phone and looked down at it blankly as she process her thoughts. She wished she could have acted on what she wanted to do instead of being responsible and handling the situation adequately. She sighed as she stood up and made her way back to her moms room. Her mom smiled when she saw here, “Hi Baby.”

“Hi Mom.” Sharna sat in the chair bedside and grabbed her mom’s hands.

“What’s wrong, Sweetie.” Lucy stroked the side of Sharna’s cheek.

“Nothing”

“Sharna. You’re my daughter and I know that something’s wrong.”

“Happy tears.” Sharna said as she giggled and wiped them away, “It’s Val.” She put her head down.

“What about him?”

“I just love him.” She grabbed her Mom’s hand. “And we’re going to be together again. Soon.”

[mcutrio]

Locked Away (CW) [16]

Locked Away (CW) [16]

Tags: @buckys-little-monster @imaginesofeverykind @kaydeinkf

Tabitha tossed and turned in her sleep, her skin letting off purple sparks as a sheen of sweat glimmered on her forehead. Asleep, the voluptuous sparks and curls of energy beamed and swam around the room, reaching for something that would reveal the truth to her whilst she slept.

She saw explosions, with people screaming and crying. Ambulances, a booklet, the government, death, and… Bucky, his face, centre of it all.

With a harsh gasp, her back arched in fear as her eyes snapped open and she sat upright, clutching the sheets beneath her as strands of her hair stuck to her forehead and to the back of her neck. Her eyes looked around the room as her heartbeat thudded, her body feeling weak as it gave out to the shudders and convulsions of her dream. It was perhaps about six a.m., given the streams of pale light in the window.

Without hesitation, she reached for her laptop and called Bucky, fearing for his life.

Less than a minute later, he answered, looking slightly gruff and tired though excited to see her all the same. It was mid-noon in Germany, but he’d only just dragged himself out of bed.

“Hey, is everything okay--”

“Buck, listen to me,” Tabitha began earnestly, gaining his full attention as he groaned whilst sitting up in his bed, clearly burned-out and tired. “I-- I saw things,”

“What are you talking about?” He questioned, voice ragged and low.

“I had another vision,” she told him, chewing on her thumbnail.

“A vision?” He questioned before he suddenly remembered what she had told him back in the barn, about how she experienced thoughts towards the future. “What did you see?”

“It’s not good,” she answered, “I think you need to get out of Germany.”

“And come back?” He asked.

She shook her head, “I’m going to talk to Steve about relocating you. I can’t… you can’t stay there, and I want to be sure that you’re safe. I don’t think coming back is an option either. Tensions are high, it’s-- it’s tough.”

“Alright,” Bucky agreed, running his hands over his face, “I just want to come home.”

Tabitha sighed as she felt her heart weigh down. “I know. I want you to come home, too.”

“I’ll be safe,” he promised, “how’s Courtenay?”

Tabitha, somewhat relieved after Bucky swore he would relocate, breathed, nodded and placed a hand upon her forehead. “She’s been asleep ever since they knocked her out.”

“She’ll need somebody there for her when she wakes up,” Bucky said, thinking back to his times of experience with torture. Waking up and recovering alone was always the hardest thing to do.

“Pete’s there and he hasn’t left her side, so there’s no worry there.” Tabitha smiled a little, her eyes flickering up to the timer, realising that they were closing in on their limit. “I should go.”

Buck nodded and pressed his lips together. “Yeah. Talk again s--”

“Wait!” Tabitha suddenly said, catching him off guard as he rose his brows in question. “Buck, I--” Tabitha sucked in a deep breath before making a solemn choice, “I’ll see you soon.”

“You too,” he grinned a little, and then his image shrunk and Tabitha was left to her own silence.

A few hours later, Peter felt a twitch in his numb, tingling hand and his eyes snapped open, watching as Court slowly stirred awake. His limp grasp immediately tightened around her fingers, prepared for her to wake up in a state of shock again. However, she woke up, eyes open and alert, though seemingly unresponsive.

“Hey,” Peter said quietly, voice groggy as he rubbed the sleep from his eye and cracked his stiff neck.

Court’s dry lips parted and she let out a deep sigh, her eyes shutting tightly as a single tear fell from the corner of her eye, dipping over the rise on her cheekbone. Peter felt his lungs cave in as he reached over and smoothed away the tear with his thumb, terrified at the thought of what Court had to go through that was so mentally scarring.

She sniffled and reached for Pete’s hand on her cheek, clutching it tightly.

“I think Steve wants to talk to you,” Peter told her reluctantly. It pained him to tell her this, but it was commanded by the super soldier that he did so. Courtenay nodding in understanding.

“Send him in, then,” she answered groggily.

Pete pressed his hand against her cheek for a final moment before he scraped his chair across the floor and stood to his feet, rushing out of the room and leaving a tense Courtenay unoccupied, which probably wasn’t the best idea given her stable condition.

She stared down at her arms, feeling on edge about the medication that was slowly dripping into her bloodstream though being aware that it was for the greater good. She clenched her fist and slowly lifted herself and propped her scorched back against her pillow before Steve, Kat and Tabitha entered.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Kat grumbled, shooting daggers at Rogers as she folded her arms over her chest. “She’s not in any shape or form to be answering delirious questions, Steve.”

Tabitha seemed more than unimpressed but sighed. “Kat, it has to be said. Whether Court is injured or not, it has to be done.”

Kat frowned deeply, “but--”

“Enough,” Tabitha said firmly, but there was a kind understanding to her voice that made Kat quiet down with all but a harsh sigh through her nose. “Steve?”

“You know I’d love nothing more than to give you three the benefit of the doubt and allow you to heal in peace,” Steve looked over at Courtenay, who had a weary expression. “But this is serious. You’ve hidden from the team that you were former accomplices to Hydra; and as a matter of fact, I can’t state whether I believe you’re still working for them or not. I don’t have a lot of trust in you; as a matter of fact, it’s hard for us to keep you on the compound.”

“Benefit of the doubt?” Kat scoffed, leaning forward with an offended, incredulous expression before barking laughter and leaning back slightly. “You’re an absolute joke, Steve. You live for war; this is your comfort, your solace. You love nothing more than to harass and terrorise and cover it up by saying you defend this stupid country from those very things. Spare me from your outdated patriotic bullshit.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “Are you saying you’re against this country?”

Even Tabitha rolled her eyes at that one. “No, Steve,” she said, stepping in front of Kat so she could have her more polite and calculated word. “We stopped working for Hydra when Natasha released their files.”

“And Rumlow?” He asked, eyes flickering towards Kat, “why weren’t your loyalties with him? How do I know you three weren’t a part of his gang of thugs and were distracting us whilst he wreaked havoc in Africa?”

Court frowned. “Steve, we thought Rumlow was dead,” she spoke up, grasping everyone's attention. She shuffled in her place and cleared her throat. “As soon as we heard the news of what happened in DC… it was like the small, small world we knew had broken away and we were finally exposed to real freedom.”

“Hydra doesn’t believe in freedom.” Steve shot back, almost as if he were accusing the three girls of being on-going Hydra soldiers.

“There’s a blurred line between control and freedom,” Tabitha sighed, “Rumlow believed that by controlling us, we were free. We were fulfilling our lives… there was nothing more to us, outside of…” she twitched her fingers, a purple veil sparking over her palm, “this. And then the moment we got the taste of that very freedom they hoped to demolish, we were overwhelmed.”

Steve frowned tightly. “And Kathryn. Rumlow said he was your father and that he never told you. Is this true?”

Kat unfolded her arms, suddenly feeling a little stiff with emotion. “No, I never knew.”

The super soldier nodded somewhat understandably, “and what’s your purpose? Why did they enhance you?”

The three of them stayed quiet, unsure of what to say in response.

“Well… it’s the same as asking why the military creates nuclear weapons.” Court began, “they don’t create them to use them, essentially… they might create prototypes and test them on an open field, but they’re never created for immediate destructive purposes. Only in preparation.”

“Preparation for what?” Steve frowned.

“You,” Tabitha finished. “Our last mission…”

“We were sent to kill you,” Kat jumped in, “but we made a different call, Steve. So I’d greatly appreciate it if you stopped threatening us with how little you ‘trust us’ now because quite frankly, we didn’t end up keeping you alive and fighting your war against Ultron because we cared about how much you trusted us.”

“And what about what he said about the Winter Soldier?” Steve asked suddenly.

Court and Kat shared a sudden, uneasy glance.

“He’s trying to throw you off,” Tabitha said innocently, “there are no other Winter Soldiers. They had trials and tests… but none were as successful as they were on Bucky. Only one man has the formula to change your mind like that; but he’s gone, off the radar. We think he’s been dead for a long time.”

Steve seemed satisfied with this due to a small shift in his expression. However, his jaw remained clenched as he breathed through his nose. “Until we can confirm your statements… we can’t have you staying on the grounds without being under surveillance.”

“Excuse me?” Kat scoffed, just as the other two girls let out grumbles of defiance and surprise. “Steve, you can’t treat us like criminals. We’ve put so much on the line for you--” as she said this, two men came through the doors, reaching for Kat’s arms.

“If you resist, the consequences will be worse,” Steve said, “I’m sorry… but I have to do this, for the safety of everyone else.”

“What about Courtenay, huh?” Kat spat, allowing herself to be dragged from the room. “Are you just going to lock away an injured girl who damn near sacrificed herself to save you? Huh, Steve? Is that--” she was dragged away from the room and the door shut behind her, resulting in no more words passing through the door.

“Steve, please,” Court nearly choked out, aching for the trust and reconciliation with her old friend. With her spontaneous attitude and sometimes overly-sexual or dark humour, she found it difficult to make lasting friendships and relationships with people. Steve, however, had been understanding and kind, and the two of them had a strong bond. “You can trust us, after everything we’ve done... we never chose to be a part of Hydra. We chose this.”

Steve swayed slightly but didn’t look at her as two other men walked in and stood either side of the door to stop her from ever leaving, not that she’d have the energy to try.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated, quickly moving out of the doors without taking a second look back. Court’s eyes dropped downwards, a mile-a-minute thoughts rushing through her mind. It hurt to think that he didn’t trust her, but she didn’t regret jumping in front of that bomb for him. If it weren’t for Wanda, the outcome would’ve been different, and she pondered over how different their current situation would be if it were just Kat and Tabitha fighting for their right of his trust.

Thor sighed to himself, book in his hands as his eyes wandered over the story of the Aether that he’d been read many a time. Slowly, he shut it, the book clapping together with a dull thud before he set it down, his heart feeling a tug of sorrow. He always felt saddened when leaving the team behind, especially because he knew not when he would return. For all he knew, given his lack of knowledge on the infinity stones at that very moment, he could be away for another millennium, long after they’d lived their lives.

Without knowing where his feet carried him next, he wandered through the grounds before he stood at the edge of the rainbow bridge, and then he was beside Heimdall again. The man had a knowing glimmer to his golden, galaxy-reflecting eyes and he smiled at the prince, who did not return the gleeful charm.

“How are they?” Thor asked quietly.

Heimdall’s lip quirked. “How is she?” He corrected.

Thor blinked, before nodding and uttering a quite “yes”.

The omniscient guardian stood tall as his eyes bored through into the galaxy, reaching out and touching the ghosts of souls before his mind brushed against her’s, which felt dark and estranged. He pressed his sword down, stepping forwards to reach further into the causality of her sudden distraughtness.

“She’s unwell,” Heimdall responded.

Thor frowned, “how so?”

Heimdall turned, eyes flashing for a moment. “Her mind has been plagued with the devil's tongue.”

“I don’t understand,” Thor responded.

“There’s part of her soul that I cannot see, nor understand. All I can sense is that an outer force is affecting her well-being and perception of others,” Heimdall explained. “She’s afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Thor asked, concerned.

Heimdall’s eyes narrowed slightly, “of herself.”

“She might be human, but she is strong,” Thor defended, “will she be alright?”

“For now,” Heimdall answered, looking away, “but I have a feeling something much bigger is coming.”

Meanwhile, Kat and Tabitha stayed confined in plain cells, guarded by men so that neither of them would attempt to escape. Not that Tabitha would attempt anyway, but even Kat suppressed the urge, finding it more defiant to stay still and quiet than to act out. She folded her arms over her chest, pacing the room back and forth.

Less than an hour later, Tony appeared, looking flushed and disgruntled. He frowned over at Kat and Tabitha, though moved towards Kats cell first.

“Oh, good,” Kat huffed, “here to less us out, big guy?”

Tony cringed, “actually, no.”

Tabitha, who had looked hopeful after wondering that perhaps Tony had persuaded Steve to trust them sunk backwards, her back hitting the dull wall. “What?” Kat asked, quietly outraged. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I agreed to let Steve keep you in the compound, for a few days at the minimum,” Tony told her, “it makes sense, he has trust issues.”

“And you don’t?” Kat rose a brow.

Tony sighed, pulling an expression to display how he was fighting an inward war. “I can’t put anyone at risk.”

Kat threw her hands up and slammed them down at her sides again. “You’re just like him, Tony.”

“Give me some credit, kid,” Tony rolled his eyes, “I’ve been pulling up corrupted Hydra files; most of it’s encrypted, but I’ve got the brains. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have the patience,” Tony told her, “and once I can spill all the beans to Cap about your whole charade of crimes, he’ll manage to see past it.”

Kat frowned, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tony. I’d really rather--”

“Judgement is better than… this,” Tony said, exasperated. “Steve doesn’t trust you because he doesn’t think he knows you. As soon as he does, his temper tantrum will cool down, trust me.”

“And what if I don’t want it to?” Kat rose her brow, voice lowering an octave.

Stark shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “Well… then you’re in there for a good reason. Don’t make me not trust you either, Buffy. I’m counting on you.”

Tony nodded with finality, his gaze lingering on the cool, white flooring before he turned to leave, his smart business shoes shuffling against the lamination. Kat collapsed to the floor, looking towards Tabitha who sat, distressed and exhausted, on the other side of the glass.

“Just like old times, huh?” Kat nodded backwards, to which Tabitha responded with a huff through her nose and her lips pressed together.

“I never wanted this to happen,” Tabitha mumbled, “what if he never trusts us again? What is Tony going to find in those files?”

“Well… what wasn’t with Rumlow,” Kat swallowed upon saying his name, “is on those damned compromised files. Natasha is too smart for her own good,” Kat shook her head, hands planted either side of her as she drew her knees to her chest. “I’m gonna kill Steve.”

Tabitha snorted. “Like you’d get the chance,” she scoffed.

Kat stared off into the corner of her cell, where she saw the Grandmaster lingering. She had sudden flash images of herself and her two friends with slit throats, with bound wrists and beaten bodies, and at the forefront was Steve. She glanced back at Tabitha, who was oblivious to it all.

“Let’s hope that I don’t.”

[bespectacled-girl-blog]

Flying Away: Chapter 13

Word count: 2005

Angst is going strong in this chapter! And as I once again wrote too much, I’m sorry to have to inform you that it will still be going strong in the next chapter XD I hope you will like it, don’t hesitate to comment and reblog! Tagging @stunninglyignis, @themissimmortal, @atarostarling, @blindbae, @cupnoodle-queen, @nifwrites, @hypaalicious, @itshaejinju, @alicemoonwonderland, @prettyprompto, @roses-and-oceans, @louisvuittontrashbags, @lupanaoflaminar

Pain. Darkness. Fear. That was all he could remember at first. He passed in and out of consciousness, with no notion of time, day and night looking the same.

After a while he was aware of a hand, never leaving his, stroking his knuckles softly. He tried to crack his eyes open, but for some reason, found he could not. He tried to squeeze the hand, but his body was not responding. After that, he was lost to oblivion again. He heard sobbing from a distance, it belonged to a woman. Remotely, he wondered who it was, and thought that something horrible must have happened for her to cry like that. He felt sad for her, wanted to comfort her, tell her it would be all right eventually. He woke up suddenly, feeling lost. He was alone, the hand was gone, he still couldn't open his eyes. He tried to sit up, his breathing quickening as panic surged through him. He felt two strong hands on his shoulders, pushing him back on the mattress. “Hey, hey Iggy, calm down, it's all right. Prompto, he's awake, go wake Lyne.” Ignis heard some rushed footsteps receding from the room. Wanting to see who was there with him, he reached up to his eyes, trying to take off the thing that was blindfolding him. “You shouldn't take that off yet, the healers said it would take a few more days.” came what sounded like Gladio's growl. “Gladio? What happened?” Ignis croaked, his voice hoarse from days of sleep. Only silence answered him. As despair and a paralysing fear were creeping up in his mind, he heard the door open again, two pairs of feet entering the room. Someone sat on the bed to his right, their weight making the mattress cave in a little. All of a sudden, the hand was back. Soft skin brushed against his, and he felt Lyne press a desperate kiss to his knuckles. Still, no one was talking. Ignis was starting to lose his patience. He shifted his weight on the bed, and opened his mouth to demand answers. “Okay guys, I think it would be best if... I took things over from here.” Lyne's voice sounded strained, as if she was trying not to cry. “We'll be in the room next door if you need us.” Gladio replied. Ignis felt a hand on his shoulder, and two pairs of feet walked away. Lyne took a deep breath and sighed. She kissed his hand again, and he heard her sniff. “My love, please... I need to know what happened...” Ignis' voice came as a plea this time. “I'm sorry.” she replied, taking several deep breaths. “Darling, what is the last thing you remember?” Ignis searched his memories hard for any clue about his present state. “We were helping with the evacuation of the Altissians... Noct had gone to meet the Hydraean to forge the Covenant... I remember us fighting some imperials. I think... I think you were in danger. Has anything happened to you?” he added in alarm. “No, honey, I'm fine. And all thanks to you” her voice was almost a sob. “You saved me, because I was careless, you took the blow for me, and now... Oh Iggy... The healers told us they don't know if you will ever be able to see again...” Some buzzing was clouding Ignis' ears suddenly. A cripple. That's what he had become. Although there was no way he could come to regret what he'd done if it meant his love's life, all the implications of his new condition were slowly popping into his mind. He was never going to see her face, her smile again. He realised Lyne was crying. She held his hand against her heart, her grip hard as if she was afraid he might vanish. He straightened up a little against his pillows, and with his other hand, searched for her shoulder. He bumped into her arm, and, acting as if that was what he'd meant to touch, turned her a little toward him. Lifting his head to look where he supposed her face was, he put his 'controlled composure' mask on to comfort her. “It's going to be all right, Lyne. Don't worry about me. It will only take a few days of getting used to it.” “Stop that Iggy, please. You know you don't have to do that with me. And besides, you shouldn't be the one comforting me right now. Right now is the time to think about yourself.” Ignis needed to feel her in his arms, but didn't dare ask. How could he, after what he had become? He kept silent a moment, until he couldn't stand it any longer. He needed to feel her close to him. “Please, would you be so kind as to help me remove these bandages?” “I'm not sure... The healers said it would be best if you kept them on a few days more...” “Let's be honest, if I'm going to be blind for the rest of my life, I don't think removing this thing now will make it any worse.” Sarcasm had always been one of his best weapons. This time he used it because he wanted to hear her laugh, but to no avail. Although, she stopped crying at once. He supposed that was a good start. “Okay...” She crept on the bed to kneel next to him. Although he dared not impose his touch on her, he could feel her presence right there, her aura comforting him. “I'm going to touch your face. Is that okay?” He was touched by her delicacy. He nodded. The touch of her fingers in his hair, against the skin of his cheeks, as she removed the bandages gently, meant the world to him in that instant. He almost leaned against the palm of her hand, remembering at the last second not to. The dressing gone from his eyes, his head felt strangely light. He heard Lyne gasp, and his heart shattered at her reaction. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands to his face. A scar on his nose, another on his lower lip, one above his right eyebrow. His left eye shut tight, the scar there not even fully healed. And darkness. He could tell his right eye was open, but didn't perceive anything of his surroundings. He lowered his head. How was he going to be any use to the group now? How could he help Noct? “Where's Noct?” “He's... Asleep. He was found unconscious, after his battle against Leviathan, and hasn't resurfaced since.” “Was there any other casualties?” “Lady Lunafreya has disappeared. The Altissian authorities say she's dead, though they haven't given up the research yet.” He didn't answer right away, letting the news of what had happened sink in, revelling in the solace her presence offered him a few more seconds. “Well, thank you for filling me in, Lyne. If you wish to go back to the others, I won't keep you here any more than necessary.” he said, his tone blank. This might be the hardest thing he'd made himself say in his whole life, but he had to. Had to give her the choice, because no matter what, a flicker of hope was still burning bright, deep in his heart. “Why would I want to be with the others? It's with you I want to be, love.” Hope burnt brighter at the tenderness in her voice. But he couldn't do that to her. Couldn't be a burden. “Don't you see the two of us is not possible any more?” He all but whispered. At first he thought she hadn't heard him. But then he felt hands on his shoulders, lips on his face, pressing soft kisses to his uninjured cheek, his forehead, his lips. “What I see is the man I love, who has suffered some major injuries because his heart was too big to save his own life and let his girlfriend face the consequences of her own actions. I don't intend to go anywhere, unless you tell me you don't want me in your life anymore.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, soon followed by another, and before he knew it, Lyne had wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him against her chest while he cried for the first time since his mother's death years ago. He couldn't say why exactly he was crying. Was it out of sadness for his lost eyesight? Out of relief because the woman he loved still wanted him in her life after what he had become? Or out of love for her and her altruism? When he had no more tears in him he asked her help to get up and dress himself. She assisted him willingly, letting him try to do things by himself first and helping him when she saw it was too difficult. He had not had to rely on others for a long time, but if she truly wasn't disgusted with his present state he figured he should start to try and accept her help. Once he was dressed, she helped him do his hair, and proposed to replace his usual spectacles with a pair of dark glasses, to which he gladly agreed. “What do you want to do now?” She asked when he was ready. “I would like to spend a moment with Noct, if it's okay with you.” “Sure.” She started to take his arm, but let go of him suddenly. ”Oh, wait, Prompto figured you might be needing this for a while.” He felt her put something in his hand. A cane. Though it was another blow to his injured heart, he had to admit it would come in handy. “Thanks” he managed to reply. She took his arm again, helping him to lead himself while he became used to trusting the point of his cane. Once he was seated in the armchair in Noct's room, he asked for a moment alone with his King. He needed time to fathom all the implications of his new condition, but didn't want to make her feel like he was rejecting her. Of course, she accepted the dismissal without a remark, only telling him that she would be back in his room if he needed anything. Listening to her footsteps receding in the corridor, he wondered if he truly deserved her.

Lyne had been reading a book, trying to calm her nerves while waiting for Ignis to come back to their room. She hadn't even noticed she'd been reading the same paragraph for the past half hour. When she heard the doorknob click behind her, she jumped to her feet to help her boyfriend if he needed her. Looking at his still handsome features despite the injury, she could tell he was upset right away. His once beautiful turquoise eyes were expressionless, one shut and the other white, but the rest of his face conveyed all she needed to know. She couldn't blame him, after all he was going through. She walked to him, taking his hand to let him know she was here if need be, but he flinched at her contact. Saying nothing, he took his hand away, guiding himself through the room with the sole help of his cane. Lyne wondered what had happened while he took a seat on the couch. “Is everything all right darling? Is Noct awake?” she tried, her tone careful. Ignis took a few seconds to regain his composure, and the sudden stillness of his expression told Lyne at once that something was awfully wrong. “As a matter of fact he is. He confirmed to me that Lady Lunafreya has indeed passed away, and that she had just enough time to entrust him with the Ring of the Lucii. He also told me something rather... interesting, that Chancellor Izunia shared with him when they met during the Rite. Pray tell, my love, when were you intending to inform me that you are the daughter of the Fulgurian?”