#ch: the sixth suite

[bettycanavosio]

Statue Of… is the second studio album by the American rock band the Sixth Suite, released on October 21, 1966, following their self-titled debut. It is considered a sister album to their third studio album, King of Kings, sharing similarities lyrically and thematically. Every song is written in third person perspective, telling non-linear fictional narratives exploring themes of grief, escapism, and American identity.

[kmomof4]

To Sir Graham, With Love Ch. 9

We made it, y'all!!! It's the FINAL CHAPTER!!!! Sorry, not sorry for the first several scenes of this chapter... but y'all know me, the happy ending is GUARANTEED, and I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of this one!!!!

Thank you once again to @jrob64 and @whimsicallyenchantedrose for their outstanding beta services and to @motherkatereloyshipper for her BEAUTIFUL artwork above. I really can't stop staring at it!! It's so perfect!!!!

And also happy happy happiest of birthday's @snowbellewells!!!!! I'm BEYOND THRILLED that you loved this fic so much!!!! I hope this last chapter is the proverbial cherry on top of a huge ice cream sundae!!! I'm posting this ch a little early because Marta is home sick today, so I'm hoping this will help her feel better by putting a huge smile on her face!!!

Summary: After a year long secret correspondence, twenty-eight year old spinster Ruby Jones decides to accept Sir Graham Humbert's offer of a visit to see if they might suit for marriage. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he was the father of twins, and they are not thrilled with Ruby's appearance.

Rating: M (smut and mentions of physical abuse) There is a love scene in this ch, but according to @whimsicallyenchantedrose - who doesn't read or write smut - it's very mild, more smut adjacent than anything, so it is not sectioned off like the scenes in previous chs. If you still want to skip it, stop reading when Graham places Ruby on the bed and pick back up at the next scene change line.

Words: 8k of 68k

Tags: Red Hunter Fic, Birthday Fic, Inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's Story, Smut

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Ch

On Tumblr Prologue Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells  @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite

@jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779

@kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

… I do not tell you often enough, dear Mother, how very grateful I am that I am yours. It is a rare parent who would offer a child such latitude and understanding. It is an even rarer one who calls a daughter friend. I do love you, dear Mama.

– from Ruby Jones to her mother, Alice, upon refusing her sixth offer of marriage

~*~*~*~*~*~

The ride to Killian and Emma’s was anything but comfortable and by the time Ruby arrived, her foul mood was even worse. And then when Graves opened the door and stared at her as if she was a madwoman, she nearly lost her temper completely. 

Until she noticed the look upon his face.

“Graves?” she asked, when it became clear that he was beyond speech.

“Are they expecting you?” he asked, finally gathering himself together.

“Uh, no,” she said, drawing out the final word. “But I hardly think…”

Graves stepped aside - belatedly remembering himself - finally allowing her entrance. “It’s Miss Alice,” he said, referring to Killian and Emma’s oldest child, only five years old. “She’s quite ill.”

Ruby gasped, something awful rising in her throat. “What is it?” she asked, not bothering to hide her urgency. “Is she…” She couldn’t get the rest of the question out, just letting the words dangle, her meaning quite clear.

“I’ll get Mrs. Jones,” he said, turning quickly and scurrying up the stairs.

“No, wait!” Ruby called, wanting to ask him more questions, but he was already gone.

She slumped into a chair, feeling positively sick with worry for her small niece but also rather disgusted with herself for coming here to complain to her sister-in-law about something that didn’t even signify when compared to this.

“Ruby!”

It was Killian, not Emma that came down the stairs. He looked awful - his eyes red-rimmed, his hair in complete disarray, his skin pale and pasty. Ruby didn’t bother asking how long it had been since he slept. The answer was blatantly obvious. He hadn’t closed his eyes in days.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I just came for a visit,” she explained. “Just to say hello. I had no idea! What’s wrong with her? She was fine last week!”

Killian took several moments to answer. “She has a fever. She woke up fine on Saturday, but by luncheon…” He sagged against the wall, unable to go on. “I don’t know what to do, Ruby.”

“What did the doctor say?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, scrubbing his hand down his face. “Nothing useful anyway.”

“May I see her?”

Killian nodded, his eyes closed.

“You need to rest,” Ruby said.

“I can’t.”

“You must,” she insisted. “You’re no good to anyone like this. And I’d wager Emma is the same.”

“I made her sleep an hour ago,” he said. “She looked like death.”

“And you look no better,” Ruby said drily. She purposefully kept her tone no nonsense and business-like. Anything softer and Killian would break down completely. And if Killian broke down, she would break down and no one needed that at the moment. “You must go to bed,” she continued. “Now. I will care for Alice.”

He didn’t respond. He was literally asleep while still on his feet. Ruby took charge, directing Graves to get Killian into bed while she took over the sickroom, trying desperately to contain her gasp of dismay when she entered the room and saw her small niece. 

She was so tiny and pale on the bed, but her skin was flushed and her half-lidded eyes were glazed as she thrashed around, mumbling incoherently.

Ruby mopped her brow, turned her, and helped the maids change the sheets when they became drenched with sweat. So focussed was she on her charge, that she didn’t notice when the sun slipped below the horizon. She just thanked God that little Alice didn’t worsen under her care, because according to the servants, Killian and Emma hadn’t left her side for two days straight, and Ruby didn’t think she could survive having to wake them with bad news.

She sat next to the bed, read aloud from her niece's favorite book of Fairy Tales, and told her stories of when her father was a boy. She didn’t think Alice heard a word she said, but it kept her from sitting still and doing nothing. It wasn’t until Emma rose from her stupor around eight that evening and asked about Graham that it occurred to Ruby he might be worried about her. She immediately penned a hastily scribbled note and sent it on to Romney Hall before resuming her vigil. Graham would understand.

~*~*~

By eight o’clock, Graham was forced to the conclusion that one of two things had happened. Either his wife had left him, or she was dead on the side of the road in a carriage accident.

Neither prospect was terribly appealing.

He didn’t think she would leave him. The argument this afternoon notwithstanding, she seemed happy in their marriage and she hadn’t taken a bag with her, but then again, most of her belongings hadn’t yet arrived from London, so she wouldn’t be leaving much behind. Nothing but a husband and two children.

And good God, he’d just told them he thought she was here to stay.

No. She wouldn’t leave him. She didn’t possess a cowardly bone in her body and if she were truly unhappy in their marriage, she’d tell him to his face. Without mincing words and with great vehemence.

Which meant that he’d likely find her on the side of the road. It had been raining steadily all evening and the road between Romney Hall and My Cottage was not well tended to begin with.

Hell, it would be better if she had left him.

But as he strode up the front walk to the door of My Cottage, soaking wet and in a terrible mood, it was looking more like Ruby had decided to abandon him. Abandon them.

“Temper,” he mumbled to himself. Because he’d never been closer to losing his.

Perhaps there was a logical explanation, he thought as he slammed the knocker against the door. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to ride home in the rain. It wasn’t that bad, but it was more than a drizzle. 

Maybe her carriage had broken a wheel. No, Killian would have sent her home in his carriage then. He lifted the knocker again and banged it against the door multiple times.

Maybe…

Maybe…

He tried to think of something, anything, that might explain why Ruby was at the home of her brother instead of her own. He couldn’t think of a one. He reached for the knocker again, prepared to wrench it from the door and chuck it into the rain when the door finally opened. 

Graves stood there, his mouth hanging open in complete surprise.

“My wife,” Graham growled.

“Sir Graham!” Graves, exclaimed.

Graham didn’t move, simply wiped the rain from his face.

“My wife,” he ground out again.

“She’s here,” Graves informed him. “Come in.”

Graham finally stepped inside. “I want my wife,” he said again. “Now.”

“Let me take your coat.”

“I don’t give a damn about my coat!” Graham roared. “Get me my wife!”

“Did you not receive Lady Humbert’s note?” Graves asked.

“No,” Graham informed him. “I received no note.”

Graves nodded. “I thought you’d arrived rather quickly. You must have passed along the road. Let me take your coat,” he said again. “I believe you’ll be here for some time and you will want to be comfortable,” the man said softly. 

A fear he’d never known gripped Graham’s heart. Had something happened to Ruby? He’d just found his children, he couldn’t lose his wife. As he followed Graves up the stairs, his heart and lips murmured silent prayers.

~*~*~

Ruby sat by her niece’s beside, hands clutched in her lap, murmuring, “Please. Please.”

The doctor had left for the second time that day declaring it “in God’s hands.” And if He was the only One Who could do anything about this, then He was the One to Whom she would appeal. When she wasn’t placing cool cloths on Alice’s head, or spooning luke-warm broth between her niece’s lips, that was.

She heard a noise from the doorway and turned to see Graham. Her heart leapt to see him and she flung herself into his arms, heedless that he was soaked to the bone.

“Oh, Graham,” she sobbed, feeling his strong warm arms around her. She was safe and she could finally let go of all the emotions she’d bottled up inside in order to be the rock Killian and Emma needed.

“I thought it was you,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked, drawing back and looking him in the face.

“Graves,” he explained. “He didn’t tell me anything as I was coming up. I thought something had happened to you,” he said, drawing her close again and kissing the crown of her head. “How is she?”

Ruby pulled back and turned toward the sickbed. “Not good,” she murmured.

Graham glanced at Killian and Emma, who’d risen to greet him. They both looked rather not good themselves.

“How long has she been like this?” he asked.

“Since Saturday morning,” Emma replied. Graham approached the bed and placed his large hand on Alice’s forehead.

He shook his head. “I can’t tell. I’m too cold from the rain.”

“She’s feverish,” Killian confirmed.

“What’s been done for her?” Graham asked.

Emma’s eyes widened with a desperate hope. “Do you know something of medicine?” she asked.

“We’ve kept cool cloths on her forehead, fed her broth, and warmed her when she grew too cold. Nothing seems to help,” Killian said hopelessly. Suddenly, Emma collapsed, crumpling to the floor sobbing.

“Emma!” Killian cried, falling down next to her and holding her as she cried. Graham and Ruby both looked away when they realized Killian was crying too.

“Willow bark tea,” Graham whispered to Ruby. “Has she had any?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “Why?”

“It’s something I learned at Cambridge,” he said. “It used to be given for pain before laudanum became so popular, but one of my professors insisted that it also reduced fevers.”

Ruby nodded and turned to her brother and sister-in-law. She marched right over and shook Killian’s shoulder.

“Willow bark tea,” she said matter-of-factly. “Do you have any?”

Killian just stared at her blinking for a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Mrs. Miner might,” Emma said, referring to one half of the couple that had been caretakers of My Cottage for years. They had all but adopted her when she and Killian were here for nearly a fortnight while he recovered from his own fever after they’d been reunited. “She always has things like that. But they’re visiting their daughter and won’t be home for several more days.”

“Can you get into their house?” Graham asked. “I’ll recognize it if she has any. It won’t be a tea, just the bark. We’ll soak it in hot water. It might help bring down the fever.”

Emma wiped away her tears, her eyes bewildered. “You want to cure my daughter with the bark of a tree?” she asked.

“It certainly can’t hurt anything,” Killian said forcefully. “Come on, Humbert. I have a key to their house. I’ll take you myself.” Before they went out the front door, Killian stopped and looked hard at Graham. “Do you know what you’re about?” he asked quietly.

Graham looked him right in the eyes, and answered as honestly as he could. “I hope so.” He struggled not to squirm under Killian’s scrutiny. It was one thing to allow him to marry his sister, given the circumstances, but it was something altogether different to allow him to pour some concoction down his daughter’s throat.

But Graham understood. He had children, too.

Killian nodded decisively and led him out into the night. As they strode through the rain, Graham could only pray that Killian’s faith in him wasn’t misplaced. 

~*~*~

In the end, no one could really tell whether it was Ruby’s prayers, the willow bark tea, or just dumb luck, but by morning, little Alice’s fever had finally broken and while she was still pale and fatigued, she was without a doubt on the mend.

And by noon, it was clear that Ruby and Graham were no longer needed, and were in fact, just getting in the way, so they loaded into the carriage and began the journey home where they planned to fall into bed to simply sleep.

The first ten minutes of the ride was spent in silence. Surprisingly, Ruby found herself too exhausted to sleep and she couldn’t summon the energy to talk, so just looked out the window at the passing countryside.

It had finally stopped raining about the time Alice’s fever had broken, which may have spoken to the Divine intervention Ruby had prayed for, but as she looked at her husband, who sat with his back against the side of the carriage, his legs stretched out across the bench on the other side with his eyes closed - though Ruby was quite sure he wasn’t asleep - she knew without a doubt that it was the willow bark tea.

She didn’t know how she knew. But she did. And when she thought about the circumstances surrounding the entire situation - Ruby’s uneasiness about Nurse Ratched, the fight with Graham, her flight to My Cottage, Graham coming after her - young Alice Jones was quite the luckiest little girl in all of England.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” Graham said, his eyes remaining firmly closed.

“For Alice.”

Graham opened his eyes then and met hers. He shrugged. “There’s no way to know. It might not have been willow bark.”

“I know,” she said, with certainty. “You were an answer to my prayers.”

Graham’s lips lifted in a tired smile. “You always do know.”

Ruby smiled back and thought to herself how wonderful it was. Just this. The easy comfort and familiarity of being with someone, that one just knew was right. Right where one belonged.

Ruby reached across and placed her hand on his. “It was so awful,” she said, surprised when she realized there were tears in her eyes. “I can’t imagine what Emma and Killian were going through.”

“Nor can I,” Graham whispered, squeezing her hand.

“If it had been one of our children…” Her voice trailed away as she realized. It was the first time she’d referred to Ava and Nicholas as theirs. 

Graham was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, he didn’t look at her but continued staring out the window. “The entire time with Alice,” he whispered, “all I could think of was how grateful I was that it wasn’t Nicholas or Ava.” He looked at her then, guilt written all over his face. “But it shouldn’t be any child.”

“There’s nothing wrong with such feelings,” she assured him. “They make you a good father. A very good father, I think.”

He looked at her oddly for a moment and then looked down at where their hands were still clasped. “No, I’m not,” he said gravely. “But I hope to be better.”

Ruby’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You were right,” he said, looking back up at her. “About Nurse Ratched. I didn’t want anything to be wrong, so I paid no attention, but you were right. She was beating them.”

“WHAT?!”

“With a book,” he continued, his voice perfectly level. “I walked in and she was beating Ava across the back with a book. She’d already finished with Nicholas.”

Tears of sorrow and anger filled Ruby’s eyes. “I never dreamed. I should have seen. I should have known.”

Graham scoffed. “If I didn’t see in the months she was living with us, how could you have seen when you’d only been there a fortnight?” he asked.

Ruby was silent for a few moments. “I assume you dismissed her,” she said.

Graham nodded. “I nearly threw her out the door myself when she wasn’t moving fast enough.”

Ruby snorted. “If you hadn’t, I would have,” she said.

“I told the children you’d help find a replacement,” he said.

“Of course!” she exclaimed.

“And I…” His voice trailed away for a moment and he looked out the window before he continued speaking. “I’m going to be a better father,” he whispered. “I’ve spent years pushing them away. Always afraid of becoming like my father.”

“Graham,” Ruby cajoled. “You couldn’t possibly be. You are so different from your father.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I thought I could. I got a whip once. I went out to the stable, blindingly angry, and got a whip.” He dropped his head in his hands and Ruby’s heart broke for him. 

“But you didn’t use it,” she said with certainty.

“But I wanted to,” he confessed.

“But you didn’t,” she repeated.

“I was so angry,” he said again, as if he didn’t even hear her, too lost in his own memory. But then he looked at her and something in his eyes was shattered and Ruby wanted nothing more than to gather him close and heal all those jagged edges inside him. To make him see himself as she saw him - a flawed man, yes, but a good and honorable one, too, who’d never hurt his children the way he had been. “Do you understand what it means to be frightened by your own anger?”

Ruby shook her head.

“I’m not a small man, Ruby,” he said. “I could hurt someone.”

“So could I,” she reasoned with him. He sent her a dry look and she shrugged. “Well, maybe not you, but I’m certainly big enough to hurt a child.”

He snorted and turned back to the window. “You would never do that.”

“And neither would you.”

He was silent and understanding dawned on Ruby. “Graham,” she began. “You said you were angry, but… who were you angry with?”

He stared at her, slightly dazed. “Ruby,” he said. “They glued their governess’ hair to the sheets.”

“Oh, I know,” she assured him, “I’m quite certain I would have throttled them myself had I been around when it happened. But that wasn’t my question.” She stopped and waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she clarified. “Were you angry with them about the glue? Or were you angry with yourself because you couldn’t make them mind?”

He didn’t say anything, but that silence told her more than any words could.

“Graham, you are nothing like your father.”

“I know that now,” he said softly. “When I discovered what Nurse Ratched had done, you have no idea how much I wanted to rip her limb from limb.”

Ruby snorted. “I can imagine,” she said. “I would have wanted to do the same.”

Graham felt his lips twitch. There was something comforting and almost funny about their similar thoughts and feelings about the matter. It felt quite good. 

“She deserved nothing less,” Ruby continued. “But you didn’t touch her, did you?” 

“No,” he replied slowly in realization. “And if I could keep control of my temper with her, I could certainly keep control of it with my children.”

“Of course,” Ruby agreed. She patted his hand and then sat back, looking out the window.

She had such belief in him. It was an utterly foreign concept. She truly had faith in his inner goodness, in the quality of his soul, when he’d been wracked with guilt and worry for so many years.

“I’d thought you left me,” he blurted out.

She turned back to him, surprise written all over her face. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Perhaps it was because you left and didn’t come back.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at him. “It’s perfectly clear now why I was delayed, and besides, I’d never leave you. You should know that.”

He raised a brow at her. “Should I?”

“Of course you should!” she exclaimed, her green eyes beginning to flash. “I made a vow on our wedding day, and I can assure you, I don’t take that lightly.” She was silent for just a moment before she continued, her tone and indignation ramping up with each sentence. “And the children! They’ve already lost one mother, through no fault of their own. Did you really think I’d make them go through all of that a second time? You know me better than that.” She turned to him with a supremely irritated expression on her face. “I cannot believe you thought that of me!”

Graham was beginning to think the same thing himself. How could he have thought that of Ruby? He’d only known her… Dear God. Had it really only been two weeks? In many ways, it felt like a lifetime. Because, he was quite convinced, he did know her. Inside and out. And he should have known better than to think she’d abandon their marriage.

It was the panic. That was all. Panic that she might really have been killed somewhere on the road. If that had truly been the case… He wasn’t prepared for the stab of agony in his heart at the thought.

When had that happened? When had she come to mean so much to him? He’d told himself, and her as well, over and over again that he married her to be a mother to his children. But when she’d mentioned the vow and that her commitment to the children was too strong, he’d felt a stab of jealousy.

Jealous. Of his own children. 

He wanted her to want him. Not because she’d made a vow, but because she couldn’t live without him. Perhaps because she loved him. 

Somewhere in the passion - in the intoxication of the pleasure of her touch, the sounds of her moans and gasps, in the force of his own pleasure when he exploded inside of her - she’d touched his heart. And changed it. 

Changed him.

He loved her.

He hadn’t been looking for love. Hadn’t even given a thought to it, but there it was. And it was the most beautiful and precious thing imaginable.

He was at the dawn of a new day. A new chapter in his life. It was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. He did not want to fail. He couldn’t. Not when he’d just found everything he needed. Ruby. His children. Himself.

It had been years since he’d felt comfortable in his own skin. When he could trust his own instincts. When he could look at himself in the mirror and not avoid his own gaze.

They were pulling up at Romney Hall. A footman appeared to help Ruby down. She turned to him and smiled gently.

“I’m exhausted, and you look the same,” she observed. “Shall we go up and take a nap?”

Graham looked up to the third floor nursery for a moment before turning back to his bride. 

“You go on ahead,” he said. “I’ll be along in a bit. Right now, I think I want to go hug my children.”

Ruby smiled and turned to enter the house.

When she woke, many hours later, she was surprised to see that Graham’s side of the bed was undisturbed. He’d been just as exhausted as she was, but perhaps instead of sleep, he just needed time to himself to think after the difficulties of the last few days.

Just because she didn’t prefer solitude, didn’t mean that everyone agreed with her. It didn’t mean that Graham agreed with her. 

They were two very different people, and if she was going to live with him as his wife, she was going to have to make some concessions to his personality and temperament, just as he was doing the same for hers.

She didn’t see him the rest of the day. Not when she took tea in the afternoon, not when she tucked the twins into bed, not when she ate her lonely supper. After her obligatory two bites of pudding, she got up, not wishing to prolong her meal any longer, fully intending to retire to her bed. But as soon as she left the dining room, she knew she wasn’t ready to sleep yet. 

She walked, somewhat aimlessly, through the house until her feet carried her to the portrait gallery. She hadn’t been inside it since that first night after she’d arrived at Romney Hall. She opened the door and gasped in surprise to see Graham sitting in the chair, just staring up at the portrait of Jacinda with the children.

He gave no indication that he’d heard her. Just continued staring, the look on his face bleak and so full of sorrow that it nearly broke Ruby’s heart.

Had he lied to her when he said he’d never loved Jacinda? Never felt passion for her? No. He hadn’t lied. She knew it in her marrow. 

But what did it really matter? Jacinda was dead. She was in no way in competition for Graham’s affections. And it wasn’t as if Graham loved Ruby anyway. And she certainly didn’t lo…

But in one of those flashes of insight that might as well knock the breath out of one’s lungs, Ruby realized, she did. 

She thought back on the last two weeks - had it really only been two weeks? - wondering when it might have happened. Wondering how it happened. But this feeling she had for him, the affection and respect, had grown into something deeper. And oh, how she desperately wanted Graham to feel the same way.

He may need her - of that she was quite sure, both in the physical aspect of their marriage, but also in the caring for the household and the children - but she wanted him to love her the way she loved him.

She loved the way he smiled, the boyish grin that spoke of secrets and mischief, and as if he couldn’t quite believe in his own happiness. She loved the way he looked at her, as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She loved the way he actually listened to what she had to say and how he wouldn’t let her cow him. She even loved the way he told her she talked too much. Because he always said it with a smile on his face. And she loved the way he still listened to her after telling her she talked too much. 

She loved the way he loved his children. She loved his honor, his honesty, and his sly sense of humor. And she loved the way she fit into his life and the way he fit into hers.

It was comfortable. And it was right.

This was where she belonged.

She loved him. She needed him. Not a dead woman.

As she watched him looking at the portrait, his words from yesterday finally sank in. He’d said he hadn’t laid with a woman in eight years. 

Eight years.

Jacinda had only been gone fifteen months. If Graham had gone without a woman for eight years… Ruby did some mental math. They hadn’t shared any physical intimacy since the twins had been conceived. No, that wasn’t right. It would have been shortly after the twins were born. Just a little bit. 

It was possible that Graham was mistaken about the dates, but somehow, Ruby didn’t think so. She thought Graham knew exactly when the last time was, and now that she’d pinpointed it as well, she realized it must have been a terrible experience indeed. 

But he hadn’t betrayed her. Hadn’t betrayed her or his marriage vows. He’d remained faithful to a woman who’d banned him from her bed. Ruby wasn’t really surprised, given his honesty and integrity, but she wouldn’t have thought less of him for seeking physical comfort elsewhere.

But the fact that he hadn’t… It made her love him all the more.

Ruby stepped forward and cleared her throat. She was surprised when he quickly turned his attention upon her. She’d believed him so lost in thought that he wouldn’t realize he was no longer alone. He held out his hand to her and she stepped toward him and took it, turning with him to face Jacinda’s portrait.

“Did you love her?” she asked quietly.

“No.” And even though she’d asked the question before, and received the same answer, the relief she felt at the simple affirmation was profound.

“Do you miss her?”

“No.” He was silent for a few moments, just continued to stare at her portrait. “She was sad. Always so sad.” Another pause. “It was worse after the twins were born. The midwife said it was normal for women to cry after childbirth, but not to worry. It would disappear in a few weeks.”

“But it didn’t,” Ruby murmured. 

“It was like she sank even further into herself,” he said quietly. “Almost like she disappeared.” His throat worked and his eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to formulate the words he wanted - no, needed - to say. “She rarely left her bed. She never smiled. And she cried. A great deal.” He finally turned to Ruby and looked her square in the eyes. “I tried everything to make her happy. Everything in my power. Everything I knew. But it wasn’t enough.” His eyes filled with tears and Ruby cupped his jaw with her other hand. “It wasn’t enough,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ruby said. She may not have known Jacinda as an adult, but she knew Graham and she knew her words were true.

“Eventually I just gave up,” he admitted, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “I was so sick and tired of beating my head against a wall. All I could do was try to keep the children away from her when she was really bad. They loved her so much.”

“I know,” she assured him.

“She was their mother. And she didn’t… she couldn’t…”

“But you were there,” Ruby said fervently. 

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “And a fat lot of good it did them. How terrible is it to have one bad parent? And my children were born with two…”

“You are not a bad father,” Ruby said, the vehemence in her words surprising even her.

“It hurt so much,” he whispered.

“What did?” 

“When she died,” he explained. “To try so damned hard for so many years and never succeed. To never be able to break through to her.” He turned and looked at her again. “I just needed someone who was happy. Who would be there for the children. Someone who wouldn’t…” He cut himself off and turned away.

“Someone who wouldn’t what?” she asked, sensing that his answer was very important, indeed.

“She didn’t fall in the lake by accident,” Graham whispered. Ruby gasped. He’d told her Jacinda had died in the lake, but she assumed it was an accident. She never thought that her cousin might take her own life. “She walked straight into the water. And I didn’t reach her in time.”

“Oh, Graham,” Ruby breathed. “I’m so sorry.” She was truly, even if Jacinda’s death had made her own happiness possible.

“You don’t understand,” Graham snapped. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t know what it’s like to feel trapped. Hopeless. Stuck. To try so hard and never, ever, break through. I tried. Every single day, I tried. I tried for me. I tried for her. I especially tried for Nicholas and Ava. Everything I knew. Everything everyone told me to do. Nothing worked. I’d try, and she’d cry. I’d try again and she’d do nothing but dig herself deeper into her damned bed and pull the covers over her head. She lived in complete darkness with her curtains drawn and then on the first sunny day in weeks,” he turned to her, eyes blazing, “she goes and kills herself.” He laughed, a short bitter thing. “After all of that, she had to ruin sunny days for me too.” He rose from the chair and looked at the portrait again. “I tried so hard,” his voice, filled with resignation and regret, trailed away for a moment. “And still, every day, I wished I was married to someone else. Anyone else.”

He turned to look at her again, and the tears were gone, replaced with a vehement passion that took Ruby’s breath away. 

“Yesterday you said we had a problem,” he said, taking her hand.

“No, that’s not what I meant…” she tried to interrupt, but he kept speaking as if he didn’t hear her.

“You said we have a problem,” he repeated. “But until you’ve lived through what I’ve lived through - until you’ve been trapped in a hopeless marriage, with a hopeless spouse, until you’ve gone to bed for years wanting nothing more than the touch of another human being…” He looked down at their joined hands and gently rubbed Ruby’s knuckles with his thumb. “Do not tell me that we have a problem. Because to me,” he choked on his words but kept on going, “to me, what we have, this - us, - is heaven.”

“Oh, Graham,” she breathed and threw herself into his arms, her own tears soaking his shirt.

“I don’t want to fail again,” he choked out, burying his face in her neck. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“No, you won’t,” she assured him. “We won’t.”

“You have to be happy,” he said. “Please tell me…”

“I am. I promise,” she vowed.

He pulled back, cupping her chin with his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. Looking for the truth of her words.

“I am happy, Graham,” she repeated, covering his hands with her own. “More than I ever thought possible. And I am proud to be your wife.”

Graham’s lower lip began to tremble and the tears reappeared in his eyes again before they began streaming down his face.

“I love you, Ruby,” he breathed. “And I don’t even care that you don’t feel the same…”

“Oh, Graham,” she cried, cutting him off, and wiping his tears away, even as her own continued to fall. “I love you, too.”

Graham crushed Ruby to him, his lips meeting hers in a passionate dance of love felt and reciprocated. He picked her up, bridal style, his lips never leaving hers and carried her through the halls to their bedchamber.

He lowered her to the bed and pulled back, pulling off his clothes in haste as Ruby did the same.

“I need you, Ruby,” he said, laying down beside her. “I need you like I need to breathe. Like I need food, water.”

“Yes,” Ruby moaned. “I need you, too.” All she could do was reach for him and give herself to him with all that she was. She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as he touched her, kissed her, sending her higher and higher until her tears couldn’t be held back any longer.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, brushing one away.

“I can’t help it,” she cried, her voice shaking. “I just love you so much. I didn’t think… I’d hoped… but…”

“I know,” he assured her. “I never thought it would happen to me. I think I’ve waited my entire life for you.”

“I know I’ve waited my entire life for you,” she said cheekily. She rolled on her back, drawing her with him until he was nestled between her legs. “Don’t go slowly,” she urged.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said as he surged into her, filling her completely.

They moved together, but it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire. And a tempest. And total reckless abandon. Both of them reaching for that peak that seemed just out of reach, until they reached it together in a cascade of ecstasy that made Ruby arch, lifting them both from the bed with the power of her completion and Graham roar her name as he emptied himself into her.

Ruby collapsed back to the mattress, Graham’s weight pinning her down. Not that she minded in the least. She loved these moments, when they were both too spent to move. She loved the weight of him, the smell and taste of the sweat on his skin after their lovemaking. 

She loved him. 

It was that simple. She loved him and he loved her. And it was all she needed.

~*~*~

The next week would forever be remembered by Ruby as the most magical of her life. Nothing special happened - no birthdays, no unexpected guests, no extravagant gifts. 

But on the inside, everything changed.

The well of happiness was overflowing and seemingly without end. And she could sense the same thing inside of Graham as well. 

She woke one morning, pleasantly sore in all the right places, to see Graham, fully dressed, sitting at the foot of the bed simply watching her.

“Good morning,” she said, sitting up and tucking the sheet around her naked breasts. “What are you doing there?”

“Watching you,” he said, an indulgent smile on his face.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she felt her cheeks heat. “That can’t possibly be very interesting.”

“On the contrary,” he replied, “I can’t think of anything that would hold my attention for so long.”

Her blush intensified and she wondered if perhaps she’d be able to convince him to join her in the bed again. But then she remembered he was already dressed and had probably done so for a reason.

“I brought you a muffin,” he said, holding it out to her. She thanked him and began eating when he spoke again. “I thought we might go on an outing today.”

“Really?” she asked in surprise. “You and me?”

“Actually, I thought maybe the four of us.”

Ruby froze, the muffin halfway to her mouth. To her knowledge, this was the first time Graham was reaching out to his children, rather than setting them aside and hoping someone else would see to them.

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” she breathed. 

“Good,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ll leave you to your morning routine and inform that poor housemaid that you bullied into being their nurse that we’ll be taking them for the day.”

“I didn’t bully her… exactly,” Ruby protested feebly. Mary hadn’t wanted to take the position of nursemaid, even on a temporary basis, none of the servants had. Ruby couldn’t really blame them after the debacle with their former governess, but for that reason, Ruby had extracted a promise from the twins that they would treat Mary with the respect due to the Queen, and so far they’d held up their side of the bargain. 

Ruby glanced up and saw Graham just standing in the doorway, not moving.

“Graham?” she asked. “What is it?”

He turned to her, his eyes a bit bewildered. “I don’t know what to do. There’s nothing going on in the village today, no fairs or events, I mean. What should we do?”

Ruby smiled gently at him. “Anything at all, Graham. All they want is you.”

Two hours later, Graham and Nicholas were standing outside the Larkin’s Fine Tailor and Dressmaker in the village of Tetbury, waiting somewhat impatiently while Ruby and Ava finalized their purchases inside.

“Did we have to go shopping?” Nicholas whined.

Graham chuckled. “It was what your mother wanted to do.”

“Next time, the men get to choose,” he grumbled. “If I’d known having a mother meant this…”

“We men must make sacrifices for the women we love,” his father informed him, patting him on the shoulder. He looked inside the shop window and saw that the ladies didn’t appear to be anywhere near finished. “But as to our next outing,” he whispered conspiratorially to his son, “I agree whole-heartedly.”

Just then, Ruby poked her head out. “Nicholas, would you like to come in?”

“No!” he said vehemently, shaking his head for emphasis.

“Allow me to rephrase,” Ruby replied, not missing a beat. “Nicholas, I would like you to come in please.”

Nicholas turned pleading eyes upon his father, making Graham chuckle. “I’m afraid you must do as she says.”

Nicholas grumbled under his breath as he climbed the steps, but just before he entered the door, he turned back to his father. “Aren’t you coming?”

Hell no, Graham almost said, but he bit his tongue just in time. “No,” he said instead, “I need to stay out here and watch the carriage.”

Nicholas’ eyes narrowed. “Why does the carriage need watching?”

“Yes, you need to come in as well, Graham,” Ruby said sweetly. Graham groaned. “You need new shirts.”

“Can’t the tailor just come out to the house?”

“Don’t you want to pick the fabric?” she asked.

“I trust you implicitly,” he said. Ruby frowned at him, and Graham sighed. “Very well, I’ll come in.”

“Thank you,” she said, leading them both inside. 

Graham found himself on the ladies side surrounded by bolts and yards of frilly and lacey, sparkly and shiny. He felt about as comfortable there as he did in formal wear.

Ruby kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “When Ava comes out, make a fuss.”

“I’m not very good at that sort of thing,” he said quietly.

She smiled up at him. “Learn,” she said just as quietly, then turned her attention to Nicholas. “And now for you, Master Humbert. Mrs. Larkin…”

“I want Mr. Larkin, like Father,” Nicholas protested. 

Ruby looked at him, surprised. “You want Mr. Larkin? The tailor?” she asked. Nicholas nodded. Ruby was silent for a moment, pondering his request and Graham could see Nicholas start to squirm with impatience and anxiety that she might deny him. “Very well then, off you go.”

Nicholas wasted no time at all and all but ran into the other side of the shop. Graham leaned over to his wife.

“You are good,” he praised, whispering in her ear.

A small smile pricked the corners of her lips. “Yes, I am,” she agreed.

Not a moment later, a blood curdling howl reached them and Nicholas ran back in. Straight to Ruby, which left Graham feeling a bit bereft. He wanted his children to run to him.

“He stuck me with a pin!” 

“Were you squirming?” Ruby asked, not bothered in the least.

“No!”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Maybe just a tiny bit,” he said, sheepishly.

“Right then. Don’t move next time,” Ruby said briskly. “I can assure you Mr. Larkin is very good at his job and if you don’t move, you won’t get stuck with a pin. It’s as simple as that.”

Nicholas looked up at his father with pleading eyes, and as nice as it was to be seen as an ally, he couldn’t contradict Ruby in front of his son like that. But then Nicholas surprised him. He walked back toward the other side without complaint and then turned back toward them for a moment.

“Father, will you come with me? Please?”

Graham opened his mouth to reply, but then had to stop, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He couldn’t speak. He was, quite simply, overcome. 

It wasn’t just the moment - the fact that his son wanted him to accompany him in this male right of passage - but it was the absolute confidence and assurance that if he followed his son to the other side, he’d know the exact right thing to say and do when they got there. He wasn’t his own father. He could never be. And with Ruby by his side, he knew he could do anything. Even manage the twins.

Graham laid his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’d be proud to go with you, son.” He cleared his throat of the hoarseness that had crept in, then bent down to his son’s ear. “The last thing we need is women on the men’s side.” Nicholas nodded in agreement. 

Graham rose back up, but before he could take a step, he heard Ruby clearing her throat behind him. He turned toward her, but his gaze came to a stop and his eyes widened as he saw his little girl all dressed up in a lovely lavender frock, showing just a hint of the woman she’d one day become.

For the second time in as many minutes, Graham’s eyes filled with tears. This is what he’d been missing. In his fear, in his self-doubt, he’d been missing this. His children, growing up without him.

Graham patted Nicholas’ shoulder, letting him know he’d be right back, and walked to Ava’s side. Without a word, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. 

“You, Miss Ava Humbert,” he said, his heart in his words, in his smile, in his eyes, “are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

Ava gasped in surprise and blushed under his praise. “But what about Mother?” she asked.

Graham knelt by her side and looked over at his bride, whose own eyes were filled with tears. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, quietly. “We’ll say that your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world, and you are the most beautiful girl. And someday, when you’re all grown up, you can believe that your mother is the most beautiful woman, and I’ll still say that you are.”

And later that night, when he kissed the children on their foreheads and tucked them into their beds, Ava whispered.

“Father?”

“Yes, Ava?”

“This was the best day ever.”

“Ever,” agreed Nicholas.

Graham smiled down at them. “For me as well.”

~*~*~

It started with a note.

Later that night, as Ruby finished her supper and her plate was cleared away, she realized there was a small folded note underneath. Graham had excused himself a few minutes earlier, claiming that he needed to locate a book of poetry they’d been discussing during the meal. So once she was alone, she unfolded the note and read the words contained within.

I have never been good with words.

And then, at the bottom of the paper,

Proceed to your office.

Puzzled, but intrigued, she rose and made her way to her office. There, she found another note in the center of her desk.

But it all started with a letter, did it not?

Then followed instructions to take herself to the sitting room, which she followed, being very conscious to keep a sedate pace instead of breaking into a thoroughly inelegant run. The next note was found on the center of the sofa.

And so if it started with words, it ought to continue with them, too.

This time she was directed to the front hall.

But there are no words to thank you for all you have given me, so I will use the only ones at my disposal, and I will tell you the only way I know how.

This time, she was to proceed to her bedchamber.

Ruby headed up the stairs, her heart thumping in excitement and anticipation. This was her final destination, she was sure. Graham would be waiting for her, to take her hand and lead her into their future.

It had all started with a note. A short, but heartfelt note of condolence, that had led her here. To a love so full and all-encompassing, Ruby had trouble containing it. She reached the upstairs hall and stepped forward toward her room, where the door was just slightly ajar.

She pushed it open with shaking hands and gasped.

For covering the bed were flowers. Hundreds and hundreds of blooms of every variety and color, some clearly out of season, from Graham’s special collection. And written in blossoms of red, against the backdrop of white and pink petals…

I Love You

“Words aren’t enough,” Graham said softly, stepping out of the shadows.

She turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Speechless?” he asked, with a smirk. “You? I must be better at this than I thought.”

“I love you,” she whispered, choking on the words. “I love you so much.”

His arms came around her, and as she rested her head on his chest, his heart beating under her cheek, he rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Tonight the twins said that today was the best day ever,” he said softly. “And I realized they were right.”

Ruby nodded in agreement.

“But then I realized they were wrong.”

Ruby pulled back, a question in her eyes.

“I couldn’t choose a day,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “Any day with you, Ruby. Any week, any month, any hour.” He tilted her chin up and brushed her lips with his gently, but with all the love in his soul. “Any moment,” he whispered. “As long as I’m with you.”

The End

~*~*~

Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me!!! I so hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear what you thought!!! Happy birthday, Marta!! Love you!!!

[theladyofshalott1989]

Art Commission for Ch. 3 of "You Cannot Put a Fire Out"

For one of my favorite chapters (so far) in my third long-fic, which is a flashback to Sebastian and Damien's sixth year at Hogwarts, I commissioned my friend Sam (@s4lvaged on Tumblr). Sam's vibrant and youthful art style is perfectly suited for this chapter, as Damien and Sebastian, in the early throes of love, finally reveal their relationship to the rest of the school. Thank you, Sam, for sharing your talent with us! They'll be posting on Tumblr more frequently in the weeks to come, so check out their art. They also accept commissions! Please don't hesitate to reach out. They are absolutely wonderful to work with. :)

Excerpt (SFW) after the cut:

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: And with that, Sebastian scrambled on top of the Slytherin table. Now was as good a time as any.

Damien’s eyes widened.

Sebastian clapped his hands. “Everyone, everyone! Listen up!” The room suddenly went very quiet. A dozen or more heads swiveled his way. “It’s my birthday today.” A few congratulatory shouts cut through some scattered muttering. “Now, I suggested a brilliant idea to someone this summer, so here’s me making it come true.” He extended his hand out to Damien, who stood slack-jawed on the floor below him.

At first, Damien merely gawked at him. Sebastian's heart pounded in his chest. But then, setting his face, Damien nodded and grabbed Sebastian’s hand. With a swift pull, Sebastian hoisted Damien up onto the table. Now, they stood together, elevated for all to see. All eyes were on them.

"Damien Andrew Evans," Sebastian said, quieter but still loud enough to be heard, "I hope you don't mind, because I'd very much like to kiss you now."

Damien flushed a brilliant red. Grinning, he mumbled very softly, "I don't mind," so Sebastian grabbed him by the back of his head, his fingers entwined in Damien's thick blonde hair, just above his low bun, and kissed him so deeply he could feel Damien's pulse through his deliciously full lips.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, Sebastian was momentarily oblivious to the uproar erupting in the hall. His classmates whooped and shouted, punctuated by a few scattered groans, but mostly excitement—just as he had hoped.

When Sebastian came up for air, Damien was staring back at him, misty-eyed.

“Bash, I—” Damien began, but Sebastian gently placed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“No need to thank me,” he said. “It was your birthday gift to me, after all.”

Damien’s face lit up, so Sebastian kissed him again. And again. And bloody again. He would kiss this magical boy as long as he could, as long as Damien wanted him to, perhaps even until the stars themselves fell from the sky. But for now, they had a beautiful day ahead of them.

And, if this morning was any indication, today was shaping up to be the best birthday ever.

[armpirate]

The Only One || JJK || Ch. 8

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Warnings: Violence, torture, human dismemberment, mentions of blood

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

When she woke up the next morning, she was completely alone in the room. There were no signs of Jungkook, nothing that could hint that he was still around. It wasn't like when she got there later the night before, there were a lot of belongings spread across the suite, but there were those vibes that showed there was someone staying there. It wasn't the case anymore. And it was confirmed by a little note resting on the nightstand, on the left side of the bed. She only found a number, followed by a "Text me" barely readable.

It had been seven days ever since all of that happened, and she found herself completely lost the first two days. She was used to using half of her day on duties related to Jorge and Carla, and the other half on her work. And all of a sudden, she had nothing. Jorge was as surprised as her when she stayed home instead of leaving to work, and she couldn't believe the amount of lies that slipped through her lips trying to explain why she wasn't going to work.

"They closed the pub for renovations for a few days" was the final excuse, and she wondered how she'd explain that "for a few days" when she stayed home for longer than a week.

On the third day, she went to the hospital Jungkook told her. And, in a matter of three hours, she already had all of her results handed to her. She was clean, something that didn't surprise her because she always used a condom -but accidents can happen as well. And while she sent all the documents to his email -after he gave it to her-, she saw herself without a copy of the contract.

Reality seemed to be hitting her hard when she finally got rid of the hangover that good sex and tempting promise gave her. Y/n was conscious of the deal she got herself into, with someone she didn't know at all. She knew he had businesses with Pedro, which always meant bad news. But other than that, nothing.

She was fucked. That man could easily be scamming her, and there she was, missing her job for a promise that flew out in the air. Although that uncertainty didn't last long, when she saw 5k euros being deposited in her account out of nowhere.

On the fifth day, she also tried to find herself being attracted to random men at clubs, but without something in exchange -other than pleasure, and not even that was assured-, she had nothing. And that certainly took away whatever was exciting about sex for her at that point of her life.

But it all seemed to be completely clear for her when a man was knocking, hitting and kicking the door while he was looking for Jorge. The lender was one big asshole, but rushing that month payment -without any previous warning- was a low move. Those five thousand she got, soon turned into nine hundred after she paid that little part of the debt.

She was back at square one.

And that was why she probably tried to get Lopes to add her back to the services on the sixth day, as a result of that much overthinking going on those six days. She could save those twenty grand she'd get each month for the future, for the better life she wanted for Jorge, Carla and herself; but still keep getting money from her body. She wasn't sure for how long that deal would go on. Jungkook could get tired of her after a month, and that'd leave her without a job, without any income, and only twenty grand to move on -which, in Mallorca, wasn't a crazy amount of money either.

Jungkook was far away in Korea, there was no way he could find out she was trying to rekindle her life before he came into the picture. There was no way he could know she was back to her services. It was impossible.

She was convinced that the contract was only redacted to make her panic, and maybe think twice before being "unfaithful" to him. But she didn't have to pull the act while he wasn't around.

It was that simple.

She could get the twenty thousand euros every month, along with the two thousand she got through the club.

After finally getting Lopes to give in and making an appointment with Pedro, Y/n felt the same way she did years back when she first stepped in his office. It was intimidating, that big man sitting on the leather chair behind his deck, as he watched her stepping with careful steps. The only difference that time was that curious look in his eyes.

Again, because she wanted to help Jorge -and because she didn't know Jungkook at all to be asking him for more money after two good fucks and a nice dinner.

—What brings you here, Love? —he raised both of his eyebrows, while he rested his chin on both of his hands.

—I want to work again.

The man chuckled at her petition, that curious look slowly turning into amusement because of her words.

—Whatever he offered isn't enough for you? —he smirked— I knew you were a greedy one, but this much?

—Pedro, just take me back —she asked.

—Are you aware of the issue you're going to create if he ever found out? —he finally stood up, walking to her.

—Will he ever find out? —she looked at him, challenge radiating through her pupils— I doubt he will. I don't think the assholes that come here would spill they fucked with a whore that's marked —she tilted her head.

Leaving that aside, she didn't think Jungkook actually wanted her, but the fake sense of power and control. There was no way he actually thought he'd be able to handle her. And even if he ever found out, she could always pull an excuse as to why she was in the club.

—To be fair, he said you could keep working as a waitress —Pedro muttered—. I can keep you on the down low, because we're both private people.

She wasn't seeing herself, but she'd bet her right arm her own eyes were shining with hope at his words. It's like the universe was telling she was going to be forever stuck in that place.

Pedro pinched her chin, giving her another sided smile before he bent over to kiss her. Y/n quickly moved her head back, which made him laugh ironically. He knew he wasn't taking her back because she probably needed the money. He was taking her back because she was one of the girls that made him earn the most money -and she was still at the top of his pending tasks.

—I forgot you're an expensive bitch now, huh? —he twisted his mouth, while scratching his beard, walking back to his chair— I want you here earlier today. Lopes will give you your uniform, and will explain to you how we will do things from now on.

—Thank you.

Those were her last words before she left his office.

✸ ✸ ✸

Jungkook entered the office, all of the eyes in the room falling on him as he walked over them to get to his desk. Apart from being one of the heads of the biggest mafia group in Korea, he also was the CEO of one of the most important hotel chains in Seoul -and his best place to distribute the drugs Bangtan kept receiving from Busan.

He had been going from one meeting to the other in the past two days, all related to finding ways to improve the customer service -although he already had someone hired to care about that in his place.

The meeting that was taking place at that moment was different, it was more related to his real businesses and the things he actually understood or cared about.

—The merch was seized a few hours ago —Doyun mentioned, feeling the dark eyes of the Don on him.

One of his biggest fears came true after hearing those words. He had a fair amount of cops on a payroll, but of course his hands couldn't reach to higher levels -at least not yet. And those high levels got information that would have ruined his business... If it weren't because he was always one step ahead.

Jungkook already had suspicions of someone being a snitch, since last time one of his gambling places was torn apart out of nowhere -at the same time a pretty small party was being held.

That time, he made sure a reduced group of people -including the possible snitch- got information about the arrival of a fair amount of coke in big blinded trucks -which were actually an enormous quantity of flour. Not only did he get to find out who was giving out information, but also managed to transport those crystals without police pressure.

—Where is he? —Jungkook asked without looking.

—In the black room.

He smirked at the news. If there was a place he enjoyed to be at way more than his own home, it had to be that black room. Everything that happened there, the full control he had over it and the people inside it, made him feel like a little kid opening a present. Seeing the regret and horror as soon as he stepped in was the most marvelous thing in the world. Because only then, people were able to realize how big they messed up and how every action has its consequences.

You can't mess with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Jeon Junseo, and expect nothing in return from him.

When he arrived at the small establishment, placed in Sinchon-Dong, at the back of one of his clubs in the area, he could already feel the thrill running through his veins.

Everyone in the room stood up and looked in his direction as soon as he stepped inside. Blazer long gone, the black t-shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, while both of his hands were hidden inside his pockets.

Joonwoo was kneeling in the middle of the room, with his face swollen and blood running down his nose. His expression turned from pain to horror as soon as he dared himself to look in the same direction everyone else was.

—Sir, I... —he rushed to say.

—Shh —Jungkook only said as he walked towards him.

He grabbed his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes filled with rage, as he inspected the few cuts and wounds on his cheeks, eyebrows and lips.

—My boys were too hard on you, huh? —he let go of his chin roughly, almost making the man fall to the side due to the lack of support.

—Sir, I promise it won't happen again, I... —Joonwoo started, thinking Jungkook was done speaking.

—You'd wish they were the ones still in charge of what will happen to you —he whispered, stepping back.

For a few minutes, he only saw his back while he exchanged several words with the other men completely dressed in black. When he turned again, Joonwoo could feel his whole body going cold at the sight of Jungkook with a small knife -that resembled more like a scalpel- and his hands covered with a black pair of gloves.

—You love talking, don't you? —he raised his pierced eyebrow— Running that tongue of yours about my business —Jungkook scoffed— and letting everyone know about what I do.

—They don't know it was you. I promise —the man said fast—. They only knew about the drug distribution because they already knew something about it. They don't know it was you.

—Do you have any idea of the amount of money I could've lost because of you? —Jungkook interrupted him— And only because you can't keep that tongue still... —he playfully hit the handle of the knife against his chin— You'll get in trouble one day, so I'll have to do you a favor.

Panic installed on Joonwoo's brown eyes as he saw Jungkook signaling to some of his men to hold him. He kept moving, trying to get rid of those six hands, but he ended up hopelessly crying and ridiculously begging with his mouth open, when a seventh hand added pressure on his cheeks to keep his mouth open.

Once he found his way totally clear, Jungkook leaned and slid the knife over the man's muscle, seeing how his mouth got filled with blood with every cut he made. He wasn't worried about the screams, he knew the music was doing a good job at keeping that little party to themselves and away from anyone outside of it.

Once he was done, he stood back. He handed the knife to one of his men, while somebody else reached to him to help him get rid of the latex gloves.

—Spit it out, unless you want to get choked with your own tongue —Jungkook joked—. Although that was never a problem with you.

He turned to the men waiting for him at the door, talking with them the lowest he could so no one else could hear.

—Make him write absolutely everything the police knows, I want every fucking detail that rat has spilled.

—What shall we do with him when he's done?

Jungkook looked over his shoulder at the man now lying on the cold floor while crying.

—Have your fun with him —he simply said—. And make him disappear in a clean way. I don't want any more problems.

After nodding, they freed the way outside for their boss.

While he was making his way outside, he saw Yejun waiting for him next to the backseat door. Serious expression, as he held tight onto his phone.

—Sir, we have a problem.

Jungkook didn't need him to say anything else to know what he was referring to. Ever since they came back from Spain two weeks ago, Yejun was the one in charge to keep updated on whatever his new girl tried to do.

That problem Yejun talked about had a name. And it was Y/n. 

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc @amy2006jones

[eternalgaylord]

from Institutes (John Cassian)

A description of accidie, and the way in which it creeps over the heart of a monk, and the injury it inflicts on the soul.

And when this has taken possession of some unhappy soul, it produces dislike of the place, disgust with the cell, and disdain and contempt of the brethren who dwell with him or at a little distance, as if they were careless or unspiritual. It also makes the man lazy and sluggish about all manner of work which has to be done within the enclosure of his dormitory.

It does not allow him to stay in his cell, or to take any pains about reading, and he often groans because he can do no good while he stays there, and complains and sighs because he can bear no spiritual fruit so long as he is joined to that society; and he complains that he is cut off from spiritual gain, and is of no use in the place, as if he were one who, though he could govern others and be useful to a great number of people, yet was edifying none, nor profiting any one by his teaching and doctrine.

He cries up distant monasteries and those which are a long way off, and describes such places as more profitable and better suited for salvation; and besides this he paints the intercourse with the brethren there as sweet and full of spiritual life. On the other hand, he says that everything about him is rough, and not only that there is nothing edifying among the brethren who are stopping there, but also that even food for the body cannot be procured without great difficulty.

Lastly he fancies that he will never be well while he stays in that place, unless he leaves his cell (in which he is sure to die if he stops in it any longer) and takes himself off from thence as quickly as possible.

Then the fifth or sixth hour brings him such bodily weariness and longing for food that he seems to himself worn out and wearied as if with a long journey, or some very heavy work, or as if he had put off taking food during a fast of two or three days.

Then besides this he looks about anxiously this way and that, and sighs that none of the brethren come to see him, and often goes in and out of his cell, and frequently gazes up at the sun, as if it was too slow in setting, and so a kind of unreasonable confusion of mind takes possession of him like some foul darkness, and makes him idle and useless for every spiritual work, so that he imagines that no cure for so terrible an attack can be found in anything except visiting some one of the brethren, or in the solace of sleep alone.

Then the disease suggests that he ought to show courteous and friendly hospitalities to the brethren, and pay visits to the sick, whether near at hand or far off.

He talks too about some dutiful and religious offices; that those kinsfolk ought to be inquired after, and that he ought to go and see them oftener; that it would be a real work of piety to go more frequently to visit that religious woman, devoted to the service of God, who is deprived of all support of kindred; and that it would be a most excellent thing to get what is needful for her who is neglected and despised by her own kinsfolk; and that he ought piously to devote his time to these things instead of staying uselessly and with no profit in his cell.

source (under Book X, Ch. 2)

(paragraphs added for greater readability)

(note: 'accidie' is commonly spelled 'acedia' nowadays)

[princeheir]

˙    🐍  profile .

BIRTH NAME :  severus snape. 

ALIAS  /  NICKNAME :  sev.

TITLES :  the half-blood prince.

AGE :  21.

DATE  OF  BIRTH : 01/09/60.

PLACE OF BIRTH :  english midlands.

BLOOD STATUS : half-blood.

RESIDENCE :  london.

EDUCATION :  graduated from hogwarts (slytherin, slug club).

OCCUPATION :  potioneer, aka, a potion maker. his prices do change on a whim but he is the best in the business.

SIDED : death eaters.

˙    🐍  personal details .

GENDER :   cis man.

SEXUALITY :  sees himself as an equal opportunity bloke, isn’t exactly labelled nor cares about sex that much.

FACECLAIM :  louis garrel.

TATTOOS :  the mark on his arm.

CLOTHING :  big & dark coats, suit and tie whenever he can, long & dark robes, green details here and there, snake skin, silver jewellery (especially earrings and rings). doesn’t modern fashion all that much.

HAIR STYLE :  long-ish black hair. a little oily (which he doesn’t like, but doesn’t know how to change).

POSITIVE  TRAITS :  loyal, proactive, intelligent.

NEGATIVE TRAITS :  cunning, cruel, closed-minded.

HOBBIES :  beyond journaling, he enjoys reading muggle books but will go out of his way to hide that. he is also passionate about gardening and foraging (especially for poisonous mushrooms). 

INSPIRATIONS :  henry winter, canon&fanon snape, that one two hour video essay about snape wives., also beth from the queen's gambit for the family dynamics (his dad did leave but he'd spend the hols at hogwarts and would barely be home during the summer, so snape didn't actually notice until his sixth year).

---- CHILDHOOD , all i know is you said hello and your eyes look like comin' home .

His is the story of the scorpion and the frog.

There was no love in the Snape household, neither was there warmth. Often enough, there was barely sound, only soft inhales from Eileen Prince’s lonely bedroom, — she never quite got used to her husband’s last name, carrying with herself the prestige of the Prince bloodline —, long parted from the sheer moments of honeymoon glory. Sometimes, if Severus was lucky enough, he’d hear the sound of his father’s keys turning on the door, only for it to be taken away in a matter of seconds, a new business trip waiting for the muggle salesman. It was a cliche, really. A saddened housewife and an unhappy traveling salesman, a love-story straight from the all-British muggle books.

Happiness was fleeting. And then it was not. With red, oh so lovely red, consuming the afternoons the young boy spent alone in the meadow. Lily bloody Evans, his best friend, his first love, the personification of laughter. And goodness. And warmth. She was everything he wasn’t, and everything he longed to be. In their few, stolen moments, there was no blood purity. There was only a boy. And a girl. And so much magic between them.

---- SCHOOL YEARS , i get mean when i'm nervous like a bad dog .

The dungeons were almost home. They were just as cold, just as unlived in, but they were loud. They lacked the meadow, — and in consequence they lacked his best friend’s blooming smiles —, but they were filled with ideals. They boomed in the winter and were awfully quiet with the arrival of the last month of school. Severus was lonely, and he was misguided. And, well, he was the perfect recipient to whatever nonsense other snakes were willing to sing in his ears.

And, Saint Merlin, he was so incredibly envious. The others had it all, had they not? Barty had the wealth, Regulus had the name, but Severus? He had the anger. He had excellent penmanship. He had a brain that refused to stop. He even had the means to respond to those idiotic pranks without ever tarnishing his own name. Who’d think the prince of potions would ever turn every Gryffindor tie into a snake? They weren’t even poisonous.

What he did not have, however, was Lily. No, that was propriety of the Gryffindors. Of the people who had loving parents, wealth, a future in the wizard world. She wouldn’t, couldn't choose him, and he had no choice but to help her discover that. He was cruel, and sometimes he was be downright evil. Because if not him, who? Who’d show those foolish lions what waited for them the second they’d step outside from the bounds of Hogwarts?

He did what he felt needed to be done, no matter how terrible it could be. There was no regret, no moment of sudden realization of how the mark in his arm would change everything for everyone. He wanted the wealth, he wanted the name. Sometimes he even wanted the fame.

---- CURRENT DAYS , cause cruelty lives in the movies .

It was clear something had changed inside of him. From the little boy who longed for connection to a man who destroyed everything he got his hands on. Although loyal, it became known Snape was inconsequential, brutal, and always a little too eager to fulfill a plan in the Dark Lord’s name.

When it comes to his work, however, Snape is known to be a man of equal opportunity. No matter your affiliation, if you have enough money (and courage) to look for his help, he’ll provide you with a top-notch solution for your afflictions. Not even Severus himself understands why he does that, why he’s so willing to put poison in the hands of members of the Order. Maybe he’ll never know.

[dumfanting]

Going Back, ch 3

AO3 Link

Chapter 2

Rating: M, mature

Warnings: none (cursing?)

Notes: GN Reader, second person PoV, present tense

2216 Words

(I don’t know if that’s how a hyperdrive works, but it’s not a large enough detail for me to really care. This is also my sixth attempt to post this, tumblr has been extra garbage today for some reason.)

GN Reader/ Crosshair

You put the plan into action, but there’s a problem.

After Omega helps you work out a plan to get back to Kamino, the weight on your shoulders lightens, although it isn’t entirely gone. That said, you know that the subtle change in your demeanor won’t go unnoticed by Hunter, who is sure to be suspicious of the sudden change. The two of you decide not to risk him figuring anything out, so Omega goes back downstairs and distracts the others while you dart unnoticed into your room.

Inside, you gather up enough of your clothes and necessities to last you the trip and stuff it all into a small leather backpack Omega had found a while ago. You briefly consider grabbing one of Tech's spare under suit sets, knowing that Crosshair would be filthy and need clean clothes, but you think better of it when you hear everyone retreating into their rooms for the night. You're growing restless already, but there isn’t much left for you to do other than sleep, so you reluctantly undress and crawl into bed.

As you lie there, you find yourself unable to sleep, yet again, though this time it’s nerves keeping you awake, rather than guilt. You stare up at the ceiling, contemplating the task ahead and going over the plan a few times. After a while, you realize that you have no idea what to do once you reach Kamino. You do know one thing for sure though: you’re not leaving that platform without Crosshair again, even if it meant having to physically drag him into the damned ship. You get the feeling he won’t be well enough to fight back, and your chest aches. Anxiety takes over and forces you to think of everything that could have happened to him, and the ache deepens.

You’re so focused on this that you don’t notice the hours passing and the sky outside lighting back up. When the chrono on your wrist chimes, it pulls you back to reality, and after you glance at it, you see that it’s time to get moving. You take a deep, steadying breath, then slip out of your bed as quietly as possible, which is no small task thanks to the creaking floorboards. You get dressed quickly, snatch up the backpack and throw it on, then tiptoe into the hallway with shaky hands.

Just as you two planned, Omega is waiting outside of her room, and you quickly follow when she retreats back into it. The interior stairs made far too much noise for you to leave without being heard, so instead you opted to get away through the outside fire escape attached to the window in her room. If any noise comes from there, you reason that the others won’t be as likely to know it’s you. You slide the window open and thank the maker when it’s completely silent. You sit on the sill, working up the nerve to leave, but before you do, Omega taps your shoulder and hugs you tightly when you turn to look at her.

“Good luck,” she whispers.

“I’m probably gonna need it,” you whisper, hugging her back. “Remember, I’ll ping your comm once I reach the hangar. Ping me back so I’ll know you got it, then call me immediately. The signal will be strongest on the roof,” you say. Omega meets your eyes and you see a seriousness beyond her years cross her features as she nods at you.

With that, you step outside onto the metal grating of the fire escape, being sure to tread lightly so that it doesn’t make too much noise. You creep to the ladder a few feet away, and when you glance back at her, Omega has shut the window and gotten back into bed, feigning sleep. “If I manage to do this,” you think, “I’ll get her enough Mantell Mix to last a full cycle.” You take a deep breath, then climb down the ladder, and the Maker blesses you again when doing so makes almost no sound. You drop onto your feet, but stumble into a rubbish bin, knocking it over with a loud clatter. You curse under your breath and look back up at the windows, freezing.

After a few seconds, nobody seems to have noticed, so you keep going. You power-walk, then jog, then eventually flat out run to the Marauder the further you get from Cid’s place. The sun has risen about halfway on the horizon, and you’re sure that Hunter and Echo are awake by now as they’re always the first ones up. You push yourself to go faster, and you reach the hangar where the ship is parked after only a few more minutes.

You quickly make your way to it, and once you get there, you lean heavily against the hull, out of breath and trying to will away a stitch in your side. When you stop gasping for air, you retrieve your comm from your pocket. You enter a memorized frequency, then hit a small button on the side. After yours vibrates in your hand, confirming that Omega has received your ping and sent her own, you make your way into the ship, shutting and locking the ramp behind you as you board.

You unceremoniously drop the backpack from your shoulders and dash into the cockpit. It feels so wrong, sitting in Tech's seat, about to essentially steal his ship, but you ignore the feeling and go about the necessary preflight checks. You’ve just clicked the last switch into place and entered the coordinates for Kamino into the navi-computer when your comm chirps at you. You scramble to answer it.

“Omega?” you say, anxious.

“Yeah! I’m on the roof, just like you said,” she responds, and you breathe a tentative sigh of relief.

“Any sign of anyone?” you ask, turning back toward the controls.

“No, not yet,” she says. Omega, knowing the others will be looking for the both of you soon, tells you the instructions quickly. So far, she’s remembering everything correctly. You plug your datapad into a port, then ask her what the final step is. Once she relays it, you do as she says and input the code as quickly as you can. The computer beeps, accepting the code, and you silently thank the Maker for your good luck.

“Yes, that’s it! Thank you Omega,” you say into your comm, relieved. Omega says something in response, but you can’t hear her over the shriek of the rooftop door opening, followed by the very distinct sound of Hunters voice demanding to know what she’s doing. She abruptly ends the call; you curse, jump back into the pilot's seat, and initiate takeoff.

You’re about a third of the way from leaving the atmosphere when the ship's holo-comm channel beeps at you and activates. You glance back at it long enough to see that, of course, it’s Hunter, and to say he’s angry would be an understatement. You speak first before he gets the chance.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Omega only did what I asked her to, she had no other involvement in this,” you lie, hoping to keep her out of trouble.

“I don’t give a damn about that, what the hell are you thinking?” he says, barely stopping himself from shouting.

“I’m not thinking anything, I’m doing what we should have done instead of abandoning him on that fucking platform!” you say, fighting not to shout too.

You ascend higher.

“We did not abandon him, he chose to stay behind,” Hunter says.

“We left him there to die, Hunter, and you know it. The Empire blasted Tipoca City despite knowing full well he was inside. They didn't give a shit about him, and it looks to me like you’re no different,” you spit, all the resentment and anger from the past few weeks finally boiling over.

The ship continues to climb higher, and you're even with the clouds now.

“Don’t you dare,” Hunter growls. “You know I do.”

“I don’t believe you. I have seen absolutely nothing from you lately that would suggest otherwise,” you say, gritting your teeth. “Every single hour since we left has been another hour closer to his death. I fucking begged you, Hunter. And every single time you refused,” you say, your patience stretching even thinner.

“I have my reasons,” he says, though you notice he’s not as sure of himself as he says this, and you scoff.

“Your reasons are bullshit,” you say, your voice dripping venom as the Marauder finally breaks through the planet's atmosphere and into space.

This seems to have pushed a particular button with Hunter, as when he next speaks, he’s roaring your name.

“I am your superior officer and I will not be spoken to like this,” he shouts. You tear yourself away from the controls and turn in the seat to face the comm unit, crossing your arms and exaggerating a humorless laugh.

“Hunter, you stopped being a Sargent the moment we landed on Salucami. So don’t you pull that rank shit on me, sir,” you say, derision clear in your tone. Hunter growls incoherently for a few seconds before speaking.

“God damn it, has it never occurred to you that you’re headed right into the Empire's hands?” he says. You hear the screech of the door again, then Echo and Tech step into view, looking confused and panicked respectively. You ignore them.

“I don’t care!” you finally shout, the effort burning your throat. “I’m going back for him. And you can’t stop me,” you say.

Before Hunter can say anything else, Tech has elbowed him out of the way. This is so unlike him that it nearly makes you freeze, and he says your name.

“You need to come back,” he says, but you turn toward the controls and start moving the ship again.

“I’m not doing that, Tech. Not without Crosshair,” you say, your voice low.

“Please, you must listen to me, the hyp-,” he says, but the connection is abruptly broken when you shut off the entire communication system.

You double check that the ship's signal is completely cloaked and that the coordinates in the navi-computer are correct. After you’ve confirmed that everything is as it should be, you make the jump into hyperspace.

“I’m so sorry, Cross,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you set the auto pilot. “I’m coming, just hold on a little longer.”

Back on the roof, the door screams open a third time. Cid, followed by Wrecker, marches up to Hunter, irritated.

“Oy, Dark and Broody, what the hell are you doing up here?” she asks. “I could hear you in the kriffing cellar!”

Hunter, seething, ignores her, so she looks to the others for an explanation. Echo appears to be deep in thought, Tech is on his datapad desperately trying to contact you, and neither of them acknowledge her. Cid huffs before throwing her hands into the air and going back inside, mumbling to herself. It’s tense for a few seconds before Wrecker hesitatingly speaks.

“They took the ship back to Kamino, didn’t they?” he says, also looking at Hunter, but he’s ignored too. Hunter returns inside, slamming the door behind himself and leaving a ringing silence in his wake. Eventually, Echo speaks up.

“Yes, they did,” he says, sounding tired.

“But it’s highly unlikely that they’ll make it there,” Tech says, frustrated. Everyone stares at him while he puts the data pad away.

“What? Why not?” Omega asks, reminding the adults that she never left the roof. Meanwhile, a look of understanding spreads across Echo’s face and he curses under his breath.

“The hyperdrive is too unstable,” he says, and Tech nods gravely.

“Then we need to tell them!” Omega says, growing anxious.

“I don’ think we can,” Wrecker says, repeatedly inputting your personal comm frequency into his device and getting no response. “They shut off all the comm channels,” he says.

“So what do we do now?” Omega asks.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Tech says, defeated. “With the comm channels disabled we can’t reach them.”

“But, we know exactly where they’re going, can’t we just get another ship and go after them?” Omega asks, pleading with her eyes.

“It’s too risky to link ships in hyperspace, if they are able to jump in, and there’s no guarantee that they can get back out,” Tech says, pacing restlessly.

“So we’re going to just sit here?” she says in disbelief, bordering on disgust, glancing between her three brothers.

“Ain’t much else we can do,” Wrecker says, unusually quiet.

“I’m sorry Omega, but it’s out of our hands now,” Echo says, and his voice is muffled; he’s hiding his face behind his remaining hand.

Tech sees her expression morph into desperation, and when she turns around, headed to the door, he speaks up before she reaches it.

“I strongly advise against that,” he says. “Hunter’s far too angry to think clearly right now.”

Wrecker catches up to Omega and holds a hand against her upper back before she turns and clings to him, shaking, and the four of them stare silently up into the sky. The vapor trail that the Marauder left behind has already dissipated, leaving no trace of you.

Taglist: @kaminocasey @madameminor @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins

To be added to, or removed from, the tag list for this story, reply to this post.

[blorbologist]

Cat’s Cradle - Chapter 3

Ch 1 ... Ch 2

Babysitting has never been Percy’s strong suit.

Before - before, of course he was occasionally left to mind the younger siblings. It usually amounted to him ordering pizza and the twins either watching a movie together or watching him play video games. They never had the patience for his tinkering, and Ludwig would sleep through the whole evening. 

After the second or third fight the parents returned to, or the fifth or sixth kitchen science lab incident, well. Percy was usually left to his tinkering, and Whitney and Oliver were just about old enough to mind themselves and the littler ones. 

So Percy is at a loss as to what to do with these charges.

The one Vex offloaded on him has settled down, the tempo of its kneading much slowed. Four other voices mewl out at intervals, still displeased. They’ll be safe soon, he knows - Vex won’t let them down. He won’t. They’ll give them a good meal, bring them to the shelter in the morning, and hopefully get a trap for Curio and reunite her with her young.

Ah. The shelter will want to know everything possible about the litter, he’s sure. 

Percy carefully eases the slate kitten back into the nest - its head jostles, trying to follow his retreating fingers. “I’ll be right back,” he promises, and sets up his workstation.

Scale, steel bowl, notepad, and laptop open on three webpages about neonates later, Percy keeps his word and scoops up that kitten again. 

“Biggest - solid blue?” he murmurs as he writes into the table. With the bowl on the scale, its screen blinking 0.0g, he slides the kitten in - 

it wails, writhing in protest, doing its best to lift itself out. Percy curses and scoops it up, grabs a hand towel to dump in. “Oh dear - I’m sorry, that was cold.”

This time when he weighs the kitten, it does not recoil. He, Percy decides, with a glance under the tail, at the guide, back again. Gods this is confusing. 

His little notepad slowly fills up. 

Solid blue - 137.3 grams - male?

Brown w black stripes - 124.6 grams - female? 

Blue tabby - 125.8 grams - ???

Blue tabby - 123.1 grams - ???

Percy squints at the page and back at the litter. Rummaging through Victor’s blueprint desk - no, how about - ah, there! He won’t miss a little ribbon.

It’s easy to amend his notes:

Blue tabby - 125.8 grams - ??? - green collar

Blue tabby - 123.1 grams - ??? - white collar

And, last but not least:

White ? - 117.0 grams - female 

This one he examines a touch longer. She’s the smallest - he says she, the only one he’s fairly confident is female. And maybe it’s just the fact she is the runt but she wobbles as she tries to join the cuddle pile. Her movements are uncoordinated - with the caveat that the all are, being only hours old. There’s just something worming at the back of his head he does not like. 

Her ears are a touch darker, yet he is fairly certain these newborns have not had any chance to get dirty yet. 

Percy carefully wets his finger and rubs her ears. No grime coming off, though the kitten tries to lean into the touch with a whimper. 

Curious.

Checking his watch, there’s still at least half an hour until Vex will return with formula.

Recalling how the grey male had calmed down in his hold, Percy hauls a chair nearer to the forge, carefully bringing the basket of kittens with him. He then, one by one, piles them in his lap. They gravitate to eachother, murmuring, but to his hands, too. 

Satisfied, Percy thumbs their baby-down fur. One by one, they fall asleep, and it’s a struggle not to join them.

--

Watching Vex prepare the bottle feeding formula is frustrating. Mostly because Percy wants to make himself useful - Vex took one look at the litter in his lap and gleefully told him to sit tight. All he can do is guess as best he can what she’s looking for and call its location before she turns the space upside down looking for it. 

It was also frustrating because the kittens are awake again and now screaming with hunger, looking desperately for their mother. Percy tears his gaze from Vex to herd one of the blue tabbies back in place for the fifth time before giving up. 

“I don’t know why you’re so insistent about this,” he complains, one hand keeping the kittens from falling as the other deposits them one at a time in the basket. “I know where everything is. It would be more efficient.”

Satisfied with the temperature of the water, Vex glances at him as she spoons it into the powder already in the mug. “Aww - but I hadn’t had a chance to take a picture yet!”

“Excuse me?” 

Vex lets his affront sit as she whisks the formula together with a scavenged fork. “For Keyleth and Vax.” She knocks him back with a wicked wink when he has the wherewithal to look at her and not his wiggling charges. 

The happy couple left yesterday on a roadtrip to Zephrah, with plans to stay a week with Keyleth’s father before embarking on the two day drive back. Percy’s not overly bothered by Keyleth’s absence - he does not think himself overly reliant on physical contact or proximity, and their conversations more than make up for their usually incompatible schedules regardless. She sends photos of the ride when she has reception, he tosses any nature factoids he’s stumbled on or some heads up about sightseeing in her area.

Vex, though, is already a little twitchy without Vax in the apartment they share. From her activity feed she’s spent her time off work with just about everyone in turn, or talking to Trinket with more babytalk than usual.

Not that he’s paying attention.

“You were so cute holding them,” Vex continues. She pauses to let drops of the formula against her wrist. “Perfect! Oh - keep the last one, I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Percy stills his hand on the brown tabby - he had thought it black until he spied the stripes of brown and a paler face in better light - and turns his hold into an awkward pet. The tiny head butts up into his thumb as the kitten lets out another cry. 

“Cute?” He stifles his snort in a grin for the kitten’s sake. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been cute. Maybe… handsome.” Vex hums, smoothly pouring the formula and preparing the rubbery cap - he knows exactly what it’s called and he refuses to think it, no. “Elegant. Cool.”

“Broody,” Vex teases.

“That’s Vax.”

“Oh, he’s certainly got the aesthetic. But I was thinking chicken broody. Fussing over cute little babies. Which is incredibly cute.”

Percy makes a face he is fairly certain the kitten mirrors, though the sources of their displeasure are completely different. Further distinguishing them: he is fairly certain cats cannot blush. 

Vex has mercy on him, pulling over a chair to sit beside him. Sets up a towel in her lap. “Okay, so it’s been a while, but I think I remember this well enough.”

“I’m still not sure how you acquired such a skillset.” He settles the kitten in her lap - picks it back up to make sure its legs are splayed a little more comfortably. “Trinket was on solid foods when you acquired him, if I am remembering right?”

She shrugs. “Our mother fostered all sorts of baby animals. Never long - we did not have the funds or room for, say, a litter of puppies. But it was something we did together, as a family.”

Percy thinks he was going to say something - a comment, or maybe a gentle prod about this ever-elusive Elaina - but Vex’s eyes crease just so at the corners and he does not mind to lose it.

“Hi baby,” she coos. “Hungry?”

Baby is, indeed, hungry - it takes a couple tries, with Percy holding his breath (what if they don’t eat? What if they choke? What if -) for each attempt until the pale little paws reach for the air and he hears, beyond his heart, the faint suckling of a tiny, tiny creature.

Her hand is steady, holding up the bottle. “What a brave little girl!”

This voice is made for nests and secrets in the woods and the rare moments Trinket feared. Not her grand repertoire for cajoling and prompting and all of Vex that drew attention, but the Vex that insisted here, now, there was a greater wonder than she.

(He might beg to disagree, if he remembered to speak.)

(Truly, Curio could not have had worse timing.)

“Percy!” She brings him back to himself - and the kitten, now purring up a storm. The little tail can’t quite stick up but gives its best effort. And the little ears - still folded almost flat against the head - are twitching with each suckle.

He had not expected the ear wiggles. Vex’s grin stutters with awe. Oh, gods, he’s melting.

“Cute,” Percy echoes, just clipped enough to sound controlled. Not sappy. Not.

“Of course.” She peers at him from the corner of her eye. “Want to give it a try? There’s a second bottle.”

“One second.”

Percy fishes for his phone, snaps a picture and sends it to Keyleth. Vex is laughing as soon as she clues into the ploy.

“Alright - I’m ready.”

[quackquackcey]

Ch. 10: Hedgehogs, Honey, & Hazelnut-Covered Strawberries

Written for @hdcandyheartsfest day 10 prompt: pink. 541 words. Many thanks to my beta @wqtson​! 💛

Start from beginning on AO3 here, or click the #fic: HHHS tag.

Summary:

A chance meeting—or is it a setup?—leads to the start of a relationship filled with buttery baked goods, sweet smelling flowers, and hedgehogs.~ 🌹🦔

“Well? What do you think?” Pansy made a few last adjustments on her upcoming fashion collection to be released on Valentine’s Day with a wave of her wand. Named ‘Pretty in Pink,’ her collection featured a variety of dresses, linen suits, floral prints, and shoulder pads starring the colour pink, of course, among bold hues and pastel tones. “Hm…maybe I should lengthen that blazer a tad….”

Draco looked down at the pale blue linen suit Pansy had him modelling. “Is this inspired by that Muggle movie you wanted me to watch?”

“Yes, which you would know if you’d watched it,” retorted Pansy. “The ‘80s fashion in that movie is iconic. Of course, I’ve changed it up a bit to suit wixen clothing—more drapery and flowiness.” She paused and perused Draco this way and that. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a model?”

It was probably the twentieth time she’d asked him that.

Draco huffed out a laugh. “For you, of course. For anyone else, I’ll pass. You know I like my desserts too much.”

“And your point is?” Pansy rolled her eyes. “Your metabolism is high and you stay fit, so it doesn’t even matter.”

“Well, yes, but I meant that I like creating them,” said Draco, amused, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just as you like creating new wizarding fashion collections.”

Pansy didn’t look convinced. “Is that so? Then why do your spirits seem low?”

“I’m fine,” Draco told her.

“‘I’m fine,’” Pansy echoed mockingly. “Do you think I was born yesterday? You’re the sort who gripes dramatically about everything and nothing, but at the times when you should gripe to your friends the most, you suffer on your own instead.”

“What? I’m not like that at all!”

“Yeah? What about the entire sixth year? You didn’t tell anyone about your Dark Mark or your mission, or how frightened and desperate you were—you didn’t talk about anything to anyone!”

“Well….” Draco decidedly did not tell her that he indeed had talked to someone, though it was a dead someone who haunted the girl’s bathroom.

Pansy crossed her arms. “Now spill. What happened?”

So Draco told her, albeit with much hesitation. How Potter had shown up and hugged, how Potter had confessed to him, how Potter’s friends had then shown up because it turned out that Potter had been slipped faulty Amortentia.

And how that was when Draco’s heart broke, and because it did, he realised that he was in love with Potter.

Pansy hugged him, comforted him. She told him that he still had a chance—she’d heard from Ginny that Potter didn’t remember a thing about what he’d done while under the effects of the botched love potion. She told him that it wasn’t over, that he couldn’t give up now, not when he finally had a friendly relationship with the rival he’d crushed on for a good two to three years back in Hogwarts and was now in love with.

But Draco couldn’t see it happening. He couldn’t even imagine it happening.

Worst of all, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the way his heart soared when Potter had cupped his cheek, called his name, and said those three little words.

[edupunkn00b]

It Could Always Be Worse, Ch. 1: Once Upon a Time

Logan Sanders thought he had secured a fairy tale ending when he married Kelly Croft, mother to his first child.

But real life is just not a fairy tale.

Happily Ever After is a very different story when Janus meets Remus at Jack's party in Objections.

WC: 577 - Rated: G (this chapter, full story rated T)

Once Upon a Time - Next - All - [ AO3 ] - Happily Version

Logan sat at the kitchen table, a now-tepid mug of coffee at his elbow. He stared at the document open on his laptop.

Superior Court of Washington, County of King

In re the marriage of Petitioner: KELLY JESSICA CROFT And Respondent: LOGAN SANDERS CROFT To the Respondent: Your spouse/domestic partner (the Petitioner) started a case asking the court (check one): [x] To end your marriage.

Logan had read the document and its many (many) attachments five times now. He was partway through a sixth reading when the doorbell rang. Logan's brow furrowed as he glanced at the time on the screen. Virgil and Patton weren't due back from Kelly's place until tomorrow. If he was even awake, Remy was likely wearing headphones while he played Warframe and wouldn't have heard the door. With a small groan, Logan stood and made his way to the front door.

He peered through the peephole and sighed heavily as he turned the locks. Logan opened the door and smiled stiffly at the two young men in dark blue suits and bicycle helmets.

"Good morning, sir, how are you today?" the shorter of them asked.

Logan nodded politely but said firmly, "I'm fine, thank you, but I'm not interested. Please mark my house as a 'do not visit.' I hope you have a good day," Logan started to close the door.

"Oh, sir, if I may..." he reached through the open door, pushing something into Logan's hand.

It was a small religious tract with a glossy cover, only a few pages long. The front of the tract was dominated by a blue and grey-toned image of a person in silhouette sitting on a rock, arms wrapped around their knees, head hanging down. Logan started to read the large, cursive letters across the top, "When you say, 'I feel lonely.' Jehovah says—"

Logan pressed the tract back into the young man's hand, a sob threatening to spill from his lips. He took a deep breath and managed to squeak out, "No, thank you," and closed the door just before the tears started to fall. Logan leaned hard against the door, sliding down to the floor. He covered his mouth with both hands, muffling the sobs that wracked his body. Tears poured down his face and he rocked back and forth, fighting to catch his breath.

He crouched by the door for a long time. Slowly, gradually, his chest stopped seizing and his sobs quieted. Eventually, he was able to swallow back his tears and he scrubbed at his face, wiping away the evidence of his loss of control.

Logan stood and walked back over to the table, standing in front of his laptop.

He stared at the screen until the words [x] To end your marriage. glowed with the aura of an afterimage. He briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath before clicking the Sign and Send button, selecting a plain font for his electronic signature. He stepped through the prompts to sign, shuddering with each click as it traveled up his arm, the stuttering pain in his chest growing with every affirmation that the marriage and the life that he had fought and suffered for so long to salvage was truly and completely dead.

When Logan got to the end of the document, his hand hovered over the track pad, the little hand icon waiting for his choice.

He clicked send. 

~~~

For the other universe's version of this chapter, see Happily Ever After: Once Upon a Time.

[bettycanavosio]

i miss the sixth suite it’s embarrassing

[church-of-siyeon]

Ty for tagging me @asosrecruitment 🫶

Fave colour: green

Song stuck in my head: Piri by Dreamcatcher

3 favourite foods: pasta pesto, pancit and probably just like some kind of chicken meal

Last thing I googled: exampro login

Dream trip: idk probably like Iceland or something

Anything I want right now: not to go back to sixth form

3 ships: jj/emily (criminal minds), brittany/santana (glee), luke/lorelai (gilmore girls)

Last Movie: pride and prejudice (2005)

Currently watching: suits, criminal minds, glee

Currently working on: attempting to do some revision for biology and chemistry (i have done barely any)

Comfort food: probably like ice cream or mango

Tagging (no pressure): @bowtiesandtutus @ch-aconne @if-th3n-else @idlepalette @kpopqueendom @lesbians4yoohyeon @lolziesitsame @paradiselostsstuff @panic-in-the-space @weeping-in-the-willows @wavydawn

thank you to @gianniisantetokounmpo for tagging me for this <3

fave color: orange + green. also shoutout teal song stuck in my head: pain is inevitable – daniel caesar 3 favourite foods: beef patty, tteokbokki, moules frites last thing i googled: asteroid city premier sweden dream trip: jamaica bro i haven't been back in 11+ years anything i want right now: to be financially stable lmao 3 ships: uuuh carmy/syd (the bear), jackson/cal (sex education), seer/octane (apex legends) i guess last movie: asteroid city currently watching: nothing, but i'm watching heartstopper on sunday most likely currently working on: commissions!! comfort food: specific swedish brand of strawberry yoghurt called yoggi yalla ALSO croissants

taggingggg @pierregaslyliked @k-ky @andreagrimes aaaand @bluesourkiwi and anyone else only if you want ofc <33

[storiesofsvu]

A Redemption Earned Ch 20

Heather Dunbar x reader Warnings: some very minor hurt/comfort. heavy on the comfort. Also I'm no longer going to be tagging the language/alcohol or weed shit cause it's all very minor. I WILL tag them if it's excessive or negative situations come out of them though, no worries. Also besties, how are we feeling about the pacing of these updates? Too slow? Too fast? do you find you're having enough time to read it before i post the next one? Obvi sometimes it's out of my control if i don't have it written, i can't post it, but I can alter it a little bit. LMK.

The first four days following new year’s were exactly what you needed, although you would’ve preferred Heather to be there too, you understood her need to work. You spent most of it in bed, taking advantage of the plush bedding to snooze your way through multiple marathons of movies and shows. You indulged in a lot of room service, treated yourself to a nice massage and took advantage of the jacuzzi soaker tub in the suite. It was exactly what you needed to unwind before going back to work yourself.

You checked out a day early, notifying Heather you were doing so, and headed back home. School started again on the sixth and you wanted to make sure you had everything in order, and that your house wasn’t a mess from the pre Christmas vacation days. You spent the majority of the day separating your stuff into your work bag, and that you had everything you wanted for Cody’s welcome package. You did a few loads of laundry, some tidying around the house and started to dismantle the Christmas decorations. You sent a couple of texts off to Heather that her responses were rather short handed, but it was day time, you figured she was at the office, so you let her work in peace.

*

On the other side of Rock Creek Park, Heather was in fact actually gearing up to go back to work herself, even if she wasn’t actually working on an open case. She was simply trying to distract herself from the thoughts floating through her head, trying to focus on the conversation with Rob. She’d ended up sticking around for dinner at his place that night, talking things out at a deeper and simpler level. He walked her through it, helped her understand her own thoughts a little bit more than she was able to on her own. They even spent a bit of time talking about their own past and history, Rob reminding her that he accepted her apology, and had forgiven her for the mistakes that ended their marriage. Now, they were friends and parents, and he assured her they were doing a good job at that.

Even after the talk with Rob she still called her therapist and made an emergency appointment, grumbling slightly when all they had available was six thirty in the evening on the fifth. She made a specific point to stay away from alcohol for the time being, she’d been over indulging over the holidays anyways. Instead of just a glass of wine with dinner, it was a bottle and a half split with you, specialty cocktails at all the parties and who really knew how much champagne on New Year’s Eve. She refocussed her energy, cleaning out her home office, hit up the gym a couple of times and even bundled up to take a couple of walks with Rob and Steve in the mornings.

She was pleasantly surprised when Becca showed up on her doorstep with apology cupcakes and an actual apology for being so riled up at Christmas. Heather didn’t lecture, just accepted the apology and made sure Becca knew she was forgiven. She ended up staying for dinner that night and truly enjoyed spending some one on one time with her mom, it was what she needed right now. A little break from her overcrowded house and a person who had enough life experience to talk her through things. It was an added bonus for Heather to be the one giving the advice, finally feeling like she was back in control for once, that she had things handled. Becca left that night with a couple of good real estate listings, the card for Heather’s realtor, and the promise that her mom would help the girls look for a bigger place if they wanted.

**

The fifth rolled around and you got out of bed far too early, trying to re work your sleep schedule for going back to school. You had your breakfast and far more important coffee before heading to the gym to try and keep yourself awake. After a nice hot shower you got dressed and headed down to the school, letting yourself in to your classroom. Aside from taking down Christmas decorations at home you wanted to get things bright and exciting for the rest of the year in here too. You swapped out Christmas trees and snowmen for bright colours, a few picture collages of students, their little self biographies they’d done just before the holiday. You laid out booklets with a little treat on each desk, making sure yours was stocked with everything you needed before heading home.

You couldn’t lie, you were exhausted already, and the urge to have a nap won over anything else that afternoon. When you woke up you realized you’d kind of snacked your way though the day after breakfast and your stomach was already growling. You had some stuff prepped already, but it was for the week ahead, for lunches so you wouldn’t waste money, and dinners pre portioned out so all you had to do was reheat at the end of the day. You didn’t want to dig into those, and the last thing you wanted to do was cook right now so you opened your phone and flicked through a couple of delivery apps trying to decide on something.

Halfway through ordering you realized what day of the week it was and you quickly checked the TV guide for reference. It was the night that Heather would normally show up at your place, you’d discovered you were both more than obsessed with a certain medical drama, a way to laugh at the ridiculousness and distract you from real life for a bit. You hadn’t missed a night of it airing yet, so you doubled the order you put in for delivery, sighing when it said it was going to take over an hour. You padded back into the kitchen and found some leftover Christmas baking to tide you over until then, pulling out your phone as you did so.

‘I’ve ordered far too many dumplings for tonight; I hope you can manage a break from work.’

You didn’t expect a reply right away, but you also didn’t expect to be met with radio silence. You let out a huff, thinking back to New Year’s Eve, wondering if something went wrong that night causing her to pull away. You couldn’t, but it still left a weight in your gut that maybe you’d said or done something to freak her out. If you hadn’t already ordered the delivery you would’ve picked it up on the way over to her place instead, but you were stuck here for the time being.

Seven rolled around and you still hadn’t heard anything back from Heather, the show was starting and the dumplings were plated up and ready to go. So you let out a small sigh, filling up a glass of wine and tucking yourself into the couch, hoping that she’d pop up through your door any minute.

‘Everything alright? Or are you just this buried in work?’

You didn’t want to blow up her phone so you tossed yours aside and focussed on dinner and the show instead.

Full to the brim you packed up the leftover food during a commercial break, noticing the stove clock you realized it had been a full forty-five minutes, the show was almost over. Your curiosity got the best of you and you wandered back into the living room and picked up your phone. Still nothing. Frowning, you opened the text conversation, making sure the messages had actually been delivered. They were, so you shot off one last one.

‘Heat…are we good? Cause I’ve barely spoken to you since New Year’s and you’re kinda freaking me out right now…’

If she really was too busy or focussed to return your text, you weren’t going to bother with a phone call interrupting her right now. Instead, you dropped down onto the couch with a frown on your face, picking up your wine glass to watch the last ten minutes of your show. The worry was starting to creep through you, wondering if you were in the process of being ghosted after all the work both of you had put into your relationship. You were starting to worry that during one of your tipsier moments over the holiday your true feelings and emotions had slipped out and you’d managed to forget it, that the thought of those words freaked her out. Maybe you’d said something in your sleep? And that’s why she’d actually left the hotel. You had to admit, those thoughts hurt, and you’d always expected better of someone like Heather.

**

Heather got home far later than she’d wanted to that evening, flipping through her mail as she pressed play on the flashing answering machine of her home phone. It wasn’t anything crucial, just Rob seeing if she was free for a family dinner on Sunday, that he couldn’t get a hold of her on her cell. She dug through her purse, realizing she’d turned the device off when she left the office and hadn’t turned it back on after her session. She shot off a quick text to him and scrolled through the rest of her notifications, her heart nearly dropping into her stomach at the messages from you. Without even thinking she immediately turned around and was back out the door in a matter of seconds.

**

Across the park, you were doing the last bit of tidying up, making sure you had lunch portioned out for tomorrow, ready in the fridge. Your dirty dishes made their way into the dishwasher, and you flicked off the light in the kitchen, traipsing through to the living room and repeating the motion in there. You were two steps up the stairs when there was a knock echoing from the front door behind you, you paused, turning back to it, knowing that there was a ninety nine percent chance you knew who was on the other side of it. You hopped down the stairs and padded over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

“I am so sorry.” Heather instantly apologized, “I booked a last minute therapy session and tonight was all they had open, I turned my phone off for it and forgot to turn it back on. I never meant to make you worry.” You could see the slight panic in her eyes, the way she was hovering in the doorway, usure if you would want her to actually come in or not.

“Oh…” you let out a breath, “no, it’s okay, I just… you never miss a night of sexy doctors.” You stepped back, letting her in and the door swung shut behind her. A very quick greeting of a chaste kiss was had, and Heather barely had time to take a breath before she launched into it, she didn’t want to keep secrets from you anymore.

“I lied to you…” Your head shot up, surprise on your face and your crossed your arms over your chest.

“About what?”

“I didn’t have a client, there was no work call on new year’s. I’ve barely even been in the office at all this week.”

“Okay…” Your brow furrowed, almost more confused than before, you leant against the wall, waiting for Heather to explain herself.

“I panicked. When things got kinkier, it felt like I was slipping, regressing, that I was going to come out of there the Heather that I used to be. And that really scared me because the absolute last thing in the world I ever want is for you to have to experience that. You’re too kind, too caring, and absolutely perfect and you never deserve to be treated like that.” Her hand reached out, caressing at your cheek and you leant into it with a gentle hum, “and then I realized that by leaving, by lying, I was probably still hurting you. I was so caught up with making sure I wasn’t slipping that I couldn’t figure out what the lingering feeling in my chest was, I was sitting there thinking it was guilt, or some other bullshit, then Rob helped me realize that I’d forgotten what real love actually feels like.” Your gaze shot up to hers at that, your heart leaping into your throat.

“Is… this your convoluted way of telling me you love me?”

“I…” Heather let out a slightly awkward laugh, “yes. I guess it is.” Her hand squeezed at yours, “I love you. And I know that I’m…complicated, and difficult, and it took one hell of a hard road to get here, and that I can be a stubborn pain in the ass some days”—

“Being a stubborn pain in my ass doesn’t mean I don’t love you too.” You cut her off and it was her turn to be surprised, her eyes widening as she took in the warm smile on your cheeks.

“Really?” She nearly shrunk as she asked and you tried not to frown.

“Yes.” You stepped toward her, pressing a reassuring kiss to her lips, “I love you. Your past may be complicated, but you are not hard to love Heather. In fact, you’re incredibly easy to love, and if you don’t believe that, then I’m just going to have to remind you every single day. I knew I was head over heels, I just wanted to wait for you to catch up before I said anything. I know you’re not always the greatest with words, but you still express yourself in many other ways, even if your thoughts are all tangled up in that pretty head of yours.”

“You are… everything I ever could have asked for.” She replied with a smile, leaning in to kiss you once again, “I don’t know what I was so confused about, I mean, time stands still when I’m with you.”

“You’re too sweet.” You stole a quick kiss before your hands slid from her shoulders down her arms to squeeze at her hands, “and we can talk about the kinky stuff, figure out some boundaries, I mean, if you don’t like it, we can drop the mommy thing.”

“Oh, oh no.” Heather chuckled, her hand coming to pinch gently at your chin, “I like that part very much.”

“I make sure to remember that then.” You grinned, linking your hand in hers, “I was about to head upstairs, I do have to be up early for work, but you’re always welcome to stay.”

“I believe I saw something about dumplings. I’m just now realizing I skipped dinner.”

“Yeah.” You let out a small laugh, “got more than enough time for a couple episodes before I need to sleep.” You pressed a kiss to her cheek, “c’mon.”

The light in the living room got flicked back on, you offered Heather a glass of wine and reheated a plate for her. Nestled into her side you let out a happy sigh, body melting into hers and she laid a tender kiss on the top of your head. After everything, you knew that this was exactly where you wanted to be, and Heather knew it too. Nothing else mattered as long as you had each other, the past couldn’t be fought, just explored, and you were both far more interested in what your future had in store.

__________________

@ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl  @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotelll @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows @borg-queer @godard-muse  @itisdoctortoyousir @brooklynmhm @nobody-important1212 @emilyprentiss4life

[kahak]

“... when this battle is over, allow me to thank you [, fushi]. and let’s take back parona-san... and the others that were taken away from you as quickly as possible.” (ch 86)

“you have me. i’ll always be with you.” (ch 87)

“do... do you want to me come along with you?” (ch 88)

“let’s have dinner. it’s important to rest even if this town faces danger.” (ch 89)

“fushi! let’s return home and have a meal!” (ch 90)

“he still needs to live life like a normal human being.”

“i was worried. the only thing i can do is make sure his mind is at ease.”

“in fact, it feels more like my love is being tested as things are now! no matter who [fushi] is...” (ch 93)

“i could not leave [my knocker] even if i did not trust it. we have always been together.”

“... it must be hard on you. is there anything i can do...?!” (ch 95)

“we can’t burden fushi any more than we already are.” (ch 96)

“this is what i warned you about. we’re only increasing his burdens.” (ch 97)

“[fushi is unconscious] because we’ve been working him too hard ... at this rate, we now have to protect fushi.” (ch 98)

“you lost consciousness ...so we fought for you.” (ch 98.5)

“don’t worry, fushi, you still have me.” (ch 99)

“it’s okay. fushi only needs me to protect him.”

“according to the holy teachings, god created humans to be perfect beings. then what of fushi? ... fushi has been cursed by a demon.” (ch 103)

“[fushi, ] don’t push yourself like this! if you’re hurting, then it’s okay to stop, right? only one person in this world has the ability to escape the pain of living and that’s you. it’s unfair, isn’t it? you are the only one cursed by such a demon. it’s okay to turn a deaf ear to the cries of anguish. it’s okay to close your eyes to the unsightly. you can stop saying the words that people want to hear.”

“what is it... what exactly should we be protecting...? what i want to protect is.... fushi’s humanity.”

“i can’t forgive someone who so blatantly makes use of fushi’s pain!” (ch 104)

“...please untie these ropes. fushi’s acting strange. i need to go to him.” (ch 105.3)

“fushi!! let’s eat!”

“but- but aren’t you scared of me now? are you [fushi] sure it’s okay that i’m still on your side?” (ch 106)

“you really are exhausted... not just your body, but your heart ... please speak your true feelings! i only wish to understand you.....!”

“it’s alright... i’ll protect you.”

“do you [left hand] think yourself a god, making so many humans? ... we’ve been together since i was a child. it’s kind of sad, don’t you think? ... you once said you don’t want to die ... i’m able to give you eternal life without decay.” (ch 114.1)

“if... [kai] you’re here, that means fushi... that fushi is... tell him this... i can no longer ... go back.”

“i’m withdrawing the defense corps ... we have been in your service for 200 years... and yet, we were unable to do anything for you. and for that, i am sorry. goodbye.” (ch 114.2)

fushi... could have killed kahak at any time. surely, kahak knew this as well. on his way back to yanome, he stopped for a bit. he stood still for a while. and cried for a bit. and then resumed his travels.

“i may not be suited to be the sixth successor. but i’ll do everything i can do...! i’ll try my hardest!” (ch 116, flashback)

“i love you, fushi.” (ch 116, present)

fushi took in numerous vessels while in his sea of consciousness. this meant kahak had perished. as for what that life meant to fushi, i do not and cannot know.

“s...sorry. you [mizuha] look like a friend of mine.” (ch 121.1)

“[kahak] went somewhere else. and i think that’s for the best.” (ch 127)

(fnae volume 13 extras, provided by bestbonnist ray)

[rjhpandapaws]

Will Never be Boring

Ch 4: Stay Over?

By middle school Markus liked to believe they had gotten ahold of the class gap thing. He was in sixth grade and could finally pick his own classes. He’d asked Connor for help because as a seventh grader he had already done this once, and if they did it together they would be able to match their classes better. They would really be able to do electives together, but that was fine. He managed to convince Connor to take some art classes, and in turn signed up for an engineering class he wasn’t all that keen on. Math wasn’t a strong suit of his, but he would be fine. It didn’t take long for Markus to decide that one of his favorite things about his art classes was getting to see Connor’s drawings. Despite Connor’s own opinion, Markus loved them. Of course middle school also came with more work and they couldn’t always hang out together. Their group began to section off a little at a time and it left Markus feeling a little out of place, but he was still determined to stick close to Connor. He had friends from his own grade as well and he did his best to split his time evenly between them. He would have loved for Connor to be able to join them, but a few of his classmates where rather, affectionate, and he didn’t want Connor to be uncomfortable.

He liked to think he had been managing pretty well. His birthday was coming up and he had a plan. The weekend of he would have a party with all of his louder friends; and the weekend after he would have Connor come over because Leo would be out of town and the house would be quiet then. It was a full proof plan. Or, at least, it had been. Connor stopped talking to him after his first party. Connor didn’t say much as it was, and Markus didn’t think he would have noticed if they hadn’t been friends for so long. No one else really seemed to notice. He almost would have rather Connor would have gotten upset, then at least he would have known where he went wrong. Markus wasn’t sure how he was supposed to figure this out. He had only wanted Connor to be comfortable. Had that been the mistake? By the end of the week Markus couldn’t take it anymore. Connor was one of his best friends and Markus didn’t want to lose him over something like this. Their shared class would be the only time he was able to talk to Connor without him trying to excuse himself. He hated the idea of cornering him, but nothing else he’d tried so far had worked. Every time he had approached him Connor found a way to excuse himself.

“Hey Connor?” He started when Connor settled across from him, “Can, uh, can we talk please?” Connor looked away from him and tapped his fingers against the table in a sharp rhythm, “Are you sure you want to talk to me? Why not your other friends?” He flinched at that, maybe he really had messed things up this time. “Because,” He began once he collected himself, “They aren’t the ones I hurt without meaning to. I’d like a chance to explain myself, if you’ll let me.” “Okay.” Connor replied when their teacher was finished giving them the directions for the day, “If you want to.” “Will you listen? Or are you still upset?” He didn’t continue until Connor gave him a nod, “I know I probably should have said this before the party, and I’m sorry for that; but I didn’t invite you because I knew you would be uncomfortable. As much as I wanted you there, I couldn’t invite you knowing that you would be miserable if I did.”  He tried his best to explain, but it felt like he was only making excuses, “My plan had been to have that party last weekend, and one for just the two of us this weekend. Uh, if you, well if you still want to anyway.”

“Of course I still want to.” He said after a long stretch of silence, “I’m sorry for being so rude.” “It’s fine.” He dismissed gently, “I’m just glad you aren’t upset with me anymore.” That was all it took for things to shift back into place. It surprised him though, when Connor cut into the conversation with one of his classmates. Echo seemed delighted, but the moment she stepped into his personal space Markus watched Connor begin to withdraw from the conversation. He excused himself and Echo turned back to Markus with disappointment glinting in her eyes. “I don’t think your seventh-grader friend likes me much.” She huffed, “Did I do something wrong.” “No.” Markus shook his head, “I just takes him a while to warm up to people.” That seemed to be a good enough answer for her because she let it go after that and Markus got back to the sketch he had been working on. It was of the cafeteria from his perspective at the table. He doubted it would be something he finished, but he was trying to branch out from only drawing people. He wanted something that was a little more challenging than that and drawing a crowd of middle schoolers crammed into one room seemed to fit the bill. Almost a little to well if he was honest.

When Friday rolled around Markus found himself thrilled. They had planned things out carefully. Connor would take Markus’s bus home today and back to school again on Monday. At any time he could call his dad to come get him if things came to that. Markus hoped they wouldn’t, but some bad days couldn’t be avoided. They had even come up with a color system. It was an easy way to check in just in case. It consisted of three colors. Blue meant everything was fine. Yellow mean Connor needed some time to get himself together or calm down. Red meant that they needed to call Hank so Connor could go home. Markus of course hoped things ever went past yellow. It wasn’t until they were waiting to get on his bus that Markus remembered how crowded the thing usually was. Giving Connor a warning about it now seemed pointless so opted to check in once they were seated. They took seats toward the back. “Color?” He asked once it seemed like Connor was situated. “Blue.” He replied, “I’m alright.” Markus still took his hand and gave it a squeeze, “You can always listen to your music if you need to. That’s what I do sometimes.”

“I might.” He replied as the bus rumbled to life. Connor managed to make it through about half the ride before Markus noticed him reach for his backpack. Once he had his headphones on and was comfortable again Markus gave his hand another gentle squeeze. He put his own earbuds in until they got to his stop. He grabbed Connor’s attention and they got off together. Markus paused his music and put his phone away. “How do you deal with that every single day?” Connor asked once he had put his headphones away. “I’ve lived with Leo my whole life.” He replied with a shrug, “They aren’t much louder than him on any given day.” “I suppose that helps.” He replied with some wariness to his voice. “You don’t have to worry about him though.” Markus amended quickly, “He’s got plans for tonight at least. It’s just going to be the two of us and my grampa tonight, so the house should be pretty quiet tonight.” “Okay.” The relief in his voice made Markus smile, “Is your Grandpa nice?” Markus laughed as he turned up the walkway, “Yes he is. You don’t have to worry about anything Connor. I promise.”

“Got it.” Came the not quite confident reply and Markus felt Connor take his hand. He let Connor gather his thoughts on the way to the door. This was a new thing for him and Markus didn’t want to make things any more difficult. He had already done that once without meaning to. “Color?” He asked when they got to the door. “Blue,” There was a pause, “I think.” That was about as good as it was going to get, so he turned his key in the lock and opened the door. “Grampa?” He called as they stepped inside, “We’re home.” “Okay Kiddo.” His grampa’s voice carried from farther up the stairs, “I’m in the gallery.” He waited while Connor took off his shoes. They went up stairs and set their stuff in his room. Once Connor had his things situated more or less the way he wanted them, Markus lead the way to the gallery. His grampa grinned at the sight of them. “You must be Connor.” He said as he wheeled himself over to them, “I’ve heard great things about you. I’m Carl.” “Nice to meet you sir.” Connor replied and Markus noticed his hesitation before he shook the hand that was offered to him. His grampa shook his head and laughed, “Sir makes me feel old, just call me Carl. Or Grampa if that’s easier on you.”

“Okay si- Carl.” The trip up made them both smile, he was trying his best, “Did you paint all of these?” “Most of them,” His grampa replied, “Some of them are Markus’s.” “Grampa,” He cut in when he noticed where this was going, “He doesn’t know.” “I don’t know what?” Connor parroted. When his grampa didn’t reply, Markus decided to explain instead, “Grampa is the famous painter Carl Manfred.” “Was.” His grampa corrected almost harshly, “I haven’t done much public work since my accident. I would like to keep it that way; so this knowledge doesn’t leave this room. Okay?” Connor made a zipping motion over his lips, “Okay.” He wandered the gallery for a little while after that and Markus observed him. When he’d had his fill they went back to Markus’s room and they worked on their homework for a while. He was a happy and a little surprised at how comfortable Connor seemed around his grampa. It had been one of the reasons he hadn’t had Connor over before now. His grampa could be a bit much sometimes. They seemed to get along fine though, so he wasn’t worried about it anymore.

When they got back to his room for the night Connor began to rifle through his bag. Markus was curious until he came away with two neatly wrapped presents. He was delighted. “Before you worry.” Connor began, “I bought these before your birthday.” He felt himself relax some, “Okay, that was what I was worried about.” “Anyway, happy late birthday Markus.” He said as he held out the gifts. He unwrapped them carefully, he wasn’t one for the sound of tearing paper. The first of them was a book on painting techniques that he hadn’t seen before. The larger of the two was an acrylic paint set. The amount of thought Connor had put into these made him grin. “Can I hug you?” He asked so he could avoid crossing any boundaries. “Yeah.” Connor replied. Markus caught him in a tight hug. “Thank you so much. These are the only art related presents I’ve gotten that weren’t from my grampa.” “What can I say?” He replied as he pulled away, “I know you.” “You panicked didn’t you?” He teased. “Maybe.” He agreed. This was definitely worth the wait. Especially when he came out of the weekend with a nicely painted portrait of Connor.

[neakco]

The Lost Temple ch. 2

Ao3 Ch.1 Ch.3 Masterlist

Marinette doesn't fully trust the American Heroes but knows that she probably needs their help.

Tim doesn’t trust these two teens that are definitely hiding something.

Yet they made camp together anyway.

Ch.2 Sleepless Night

It had taken longer then they would have like to figure out a watch schedule. While they had both agreed to an alliance, neither group trusted the other.

 

Finally a compromise was made. Each group set their own schedule. Marinette and Adrien agreed to each do half the night. While the Trio took one 2 hour shift each.

 

Adrien would take the first 3 hours and would be starting his shift with Superboy. Impulse had the 2nd watch which he would share with both of them before she would finish out the night with Red Robin.

 

Marinette was a little nervous, she knew Superboy had heard Plagg earlier. They weren’t used to others being able to hear as well as her Kitty. She was lucky that her bond with Tikki allowed communication via emotions.

 

She stared up at the stars, at least this wouldn’t be the first time she had gone without sleep for a mission. She glanced briefly at the tent the American heroes had set up. It looked cramped. She was quite happy with her blanket.

 

Her and Adrien had tried using tents before but he preferred to sleep up high and she enjoyed the connection to the plants she got on the ground. It always allowed her to feel more rested, even if, like tonight, she didn’t actually sleep.

 

Adrien came to let her know it was her turn so she rolled up her blanket and went to join Impulse.

 

The boy never seemed to stop, he constantly dashed back and forth as he talked non-stop about everything.

 

“Doesn’t that drain your energy?”

 

He stopped short as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, well yes, but II can quickly get back to civilization for snacks.”

 

She nodded as the hero began to move around and started talking about his favourite snacks. She had an idea to run past Red Robin once he joined her on watch. She would suggest it to Impulse but she had a gut feeling that would be a bad idea.

 

 

Tim woke a little early for his turn and crept towards the trees in order to observe Marinette and Bart.

He was a little surprised that she seemed interested in the one-sided food conversation. At least he had assumed it was one-sided until she chirped in with a question about Bart’s preferences on French pastries. He didn’t expect the girl to become so offended when Bart told her he didn’t like croissants.

 

Tim decided that it was close enough to his watch and stepped out of the shadows.

 

Impulse flew into the trees in his surprise while Marinette hadn’t moved. Had he lost his touch? No, she may not have jumped but he noticed she had a hand to her back where it hadn’t been before. He concluded that she had probably reached for a weapon.

 

“Seriously Rob? I love you but that’s just mean.”

 

Tim smirked, “Maybe next time you will pay attention.”

 

“You’re a bat, doesn’t matter how much I pay attention.” Bart grumbled as he waved goodnight to Marinette and headed off to find his sleeping bag.

 

Tim turned back to Marinette and was shocked by the level of malice being directed at him. “What did I…”

 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice, while harsh, was soft and filled with concern. “I could have killed you. If it was Adrien you had startled you wouldn’t be alive.”

 

Tim swallowed his retort. Normally he would think it hilarious that this tiny enigma thought that she or her delicate looking friend could hurt him, but there was something there. It was the way every sound stilled at her anger, the way his gut yelled at him to run. Putting all this together with their first conversation, he began to wonder if the two teens had been granted power by the gods.

 

Marinette was taking deep meditative breaths. “You are lucky I analyze before reacting.”

 

“Sorry. I had figured you had a sixth sense.”

 

She eyed him, “You were testing a theory?”

 

“Yes. I like to know what my allies are capable of and it’s not like you two have been very forthcoming.”

 

It surprised Tim to see her relax at this rather than get angrier.

 

“The decision to share isn’t really up to me or Adrien. I assume it is similar to your identity, unless what I've heard about Batman is wrong.”

 

Tim laughed quietly while keeping an eye to their surroundings. “We actually tell people our identities all the time, people just assume we are joking.”

 

Her eyes widened, “That works?”

 

“Well it works if the public's image of your two personas are vastly different. People will believe what they want no matter what you tell them.”

 

He was about to ask if she was thinking of becoming a hero when he noticed her darkening look. Unlike before where it had been anger mixed with concern, this time it was mixed with sadness and pain.

 

“You okay?”

 

“People really do believe what they want.” Her eyes turned wistful and she looked up into the trees. “Really shows you who your real friends are.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” How was he supposed to comfort her? Alfred would probably offer her hot chocolate and sweets.

 

“No, it all happened years ago. I am mostly over it.”

 

Tim let out a sigh of relief, at her look he tried to smile kindly. “No offense but I was raised by the most emotionally distant people and I really had no idea what to do if you started crying.”

 

The sudden laughter surprised him. That wasn’t a normal reaction. He frowned as he watched her try to stifle the sound.

 

“I'm sorry, it’s just, well, welcome to the club.” She started laughing a little bit harder and maybe a bit more broken. “Adrien can tell you some stories. Well I can two, but mine only start a few years back. I don’t have a life's worth like he does.”

 

“But why is that so funny?” He frowned harder trying to understand if he was the joke.

 

He jumped and threw a batarang that thankfully missed when Adrien suddenly dropped out of a tree and landed beside him.

 

“Where we come from it was always better to laugh instead of giving in to emotional distress.” He turned to Marinette, “You okay M'lady?”

 

“I just,” her giggles increased slightly, “strays, it’s always the strays.” She giggled a bit longer before stopping suddenly and glaring at Adrien, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

 

Tim could see the blonde visibly gulp as he lied poorly, “bathroom. Going back to sleep now. Bye.” He quickly left back into the trees and took off roughly in the direction of camp based off the rustling.

 

“You two are very strange.”

 

“Says the talented human commanding literal super humans.” She snorted. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think Impulse could quickly map out the jungle for us?”

 

“If he can keep himself from tripping over roots and snakes then maybe. Why didn’t you ask him?” Tim was curious. She had spent an hour with Impulse, there had been plenty of time.

 

“I figured you were the leader and I would have to ask no matter what. Mostly I was worried he wouldn’t be able to but pride would cause him to say yes anyways.”

 

Tim tried to study her expression but it gave nothing away. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“Simple, Impulse acts like a younger Adrien.”

 

 

Marinette thought back, Chat had been so free. She missed those times. Unfortunately reality had hit them both fairly hard. She doubted if they could ever be that carefree again.

 

“I would deny your assessment if I could.” Red Robin leaned back against her tree and typed into his arm. She hadn’t realized there was technology integrated into the suit. She was almost jealous.

 

A holographic map of the jungle was displayed floating above his arm so she leaned forward to gain a better look.

 

Red Robin pointed to a small area causing a dot to appear  “This is our camp.” He gestured to highlight a portion green. “This is the area we checked yesterday. My initial reports showed activity in these areas.” This time the highlighted red, or brown in the areas that overlapped with the searched area.

 

She hummed in thought, “Add another kilometer to the searched radius. Adrien split off a couple times yesterday.”

 

She could see his eyes shift to suspicion briefly but he complied anyway

 

“If you knew that then you never needed Impulse to make a map, you wanted him to find the enemy.”

 

She nodded but stayed silent and observant. It was kind of nice watching someone else think like she does.

 

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if Impulse was capable of stealth. “She watched him remove the searched area from the map in order to zoom in on the rest.

 

“You have a plan.” She was grinning, she could already tell what he was thinking.

 

The way he looked at her screamed that he knew that she had already figured it out. She was happily surprised when he decided to continue explaining to her.

 

“I propose that we split up. My team has trackers to keep track of our own whereabouts and comms to communicate. I think Superboy and Adrien take this route.” A Blue and red line appeared on the map. “While we take this path more to the right.” This time the line was red and black. She knew they were supposed to represent his colours but they worked just as well for her. She bet Adrien would have a laugh.

 

“I'll have Impulse cover this middle area in between our groups to cover any gaps and act as a runner in case we need anything. Anything to add?”

 

She bit her lip. These were heroes, she could probably trust them, at least a little. Plus Adrien wasn’t able to sense the temple’s magic. “How good is Superboy's x-ray vision?” Damn it, she thought she had fixed her word blurting problem.

 

Red Robin seemed surprised by her words, “What? Why?”

 

She chewed on her lip a bit more before she felt Tikki's reassurance. “What I am about to tell you is secret enough that it could very well get you killed. Are you sure you want to know?”

 

She watched his face carefully. There was hesitation, doubt, curiosity, and finally that thirst for knowledge that got her into trouble constantly.

 

He finally shrugged, “Just an average day for me.”

 

She smiled but dropped her voice into a serious tone. “There is a temple here that was lost underground years ago. No matter what else happens I can not let anyone get the knowledge and treasures it holds.” She remembered some of the things the monks had told her and Adrien without ever actually explaining what the temple was guarding. “If these people find the temple first then best case scenario has them taking over the world.”

 

Red Robin's voice was low, “And worst case?”

 

“They destroy the entire universe as we know it.”

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