#i have thankfully never truly fallen down the stairs but god does it take all the power in my being to do so

[this-doesnt-endd]

Also like ive never realized how many like bars/places to drink in my area have stairs like thats kinda mean

[floralseokjin]

final sleigh drabble #4

❛ it’s New Year’s Eve…❜

original oneshot here // drabble index here

kim seokjin x reader  smut; ass eating (f receiving)  3,558 words  

“Seokjin, where are we going?” You demanded, voice low as you followed him up the stairs. 

He ignored your question. “Quick, hurry! It’s nearly midnight.” Taking your hand he pulled you into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Only then did he give you an explanation. “I want to kiss you.” 

Was he stupid? Jungkook and Mina were here. If they found out nothing would be right. The situation was... complicated to say the least. Co-workers, rivals, supposed to hate one another’s guts. Jungkook would have a field day. He was already suspicious, immediately asking why you’d shown up at Seokjin’s New Year’s Eve party. 

“Her best friend is hooking up with mine, I had to invite her by default,” Seokjin had explained expertly. 

“Do I look happy about it?” You’d shot, playing your part well. 

You’d never admit it out loud, but it was sort of exciting pretending to still hate Seokjin. (Not that you’d truly hated him before – that was a horrible word.) He still annoyed the hell out of you regardless of the sex, so... But yeah, Jungkook really had no clue. No clue that last night Seokjin had made you cum four times in a row. No clue that Seokjin had been fucking you so good, the best you’d ever had, for pretty much the last fortnight. It was amusing.

But not when he was unintentionally putting his foot in it. 

“This is priceless,” he’d hollered. “Like a fucking sitcom. You know, five years from now, maybe sooner, you two will end up falling in love and getting married. I call it now.” 

Seokjin had turned red immediately. You caught it but didn’t say anything, too busy feeling awkward yourself. Thankfully, Jungkook didn’t notice, too busy getting chewed out by his tomato faced friend. “Shut the fuck up, Kook. You’re drunk already.” 

Seokjin was playing a dangerous game right now. Less than five minutes before the new year. “They’re going to notice we’ve disappeared,” you worried, feeling him reach for your hands. 

“Already sorted it, babe.” He reassured you, letting go of one hand to slide his cell phone out of his jeans pocket, unlocking it to pull a chain of messages up. You read them quickly, not quite believing your eyes. 

(11:48pm) Seokjin: You never guess what (11:48pm) JK: what? (11:49pm) Seokjin: Guess who’s throwing their guts up in my bathroom? (11:49pm) JK: WHO  (11:50pm) Seokjin: I said guess (11:51pm) Seokjin: Nvm it’s Y/N  (11:51pm) JK: what 😂 (11:51pm) JK: how come  (11:52pm) Seokjin: She’s blaming Yoongi’s kebabs but I think she’s just had too much to drink (11:52pm) JK: photo or its not happening (11:52pm) Seokjin: I’m not taking a photo, do you want death? (11:53pm) JK: fair  (11:53pm) Seokjin: Yeah so I’m probably going to miss the countdown (11:53pm) JK: aww what.. get her friend 😅 (11:53pm) JK: oh no wait i can see her making out with yoongi against the fridge  (11:54pm) Seokjin: It’s no big deal. I’ll celebrate later  (11:54pm) Seokjin: Happy New Year, JK!  (11:54pm) JK: happy new year brother 😘 

“Seokjin, you told him I’m being sick?!” You exclaimed. 

“Relax,” he breezed. “It’s the only plausible reason we’d both disappear. I’m helping out a frenemy in need. Besides, it’s payback for the cake.” 

You stared up at him, quite honestly speechless. “I think looking like an idiot for not being able to handle my drink is much worse than forgetting to order a damn cake!” 

“But babe, you can’t handle your drink.” He said gently, placing a patronising hand on your shoulder. “You forgot our first kiss.” 

“Listen here–”

“10, 9, 8...” 

“Seokjin, don’t interrupt me,” you told him, hearing the whole of the party downstairs begin to countdown too. 

“7, 6, 5, 4...” He was so annoying. But maybe he had a point. Nobody was going to realise you were both gone, too busy celebrating the new year in…

“3, 2, 1!” 

The press of his mouth was soft as he leaned into kiss your lips, successfully distracting you. You even wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him harder as you heard a bunch of fireworks start to go off around his neighbourhood. Downstairs you could hear lots of cheering. 

“Happy New Year, baby,” he smiled as he pulled away. Your felt a surge of warmth throughout your body. You weren’t even that drunk, which hang on a minute – how was Jungkook supposed to believe you were wasted and throwing your guts up in Seokjin’s bathroom?! 

You told yourself to chill out. Jungkook had fallen for it, and now you were free to kiss Seokjin as much as you wanted for a few minutes. Pressing your lips into his once, you grinned. “Happy New Year.” Who’d have thought it? Seeing the new year in with him... Not you, that was for sure. 

Seokjin wound his arms around your middle, giving your ass a squeeze. “Now, let’s see it in as we mean to go on.” 

“Huh?” He couldn’t mean— 

“With my face between your ass!” 

“What?” You exclaimed. “No, Seokjin! We don’t have time for sex.” 

“I sorted it, remember.” He was holding your hands again, yanking you over to his bed. You tried your best to root yourself to the floor but he was too strong. You were soon on your back, caged under his body, tongue down his throat. 

“Y/N.” He breathed against your jaw, lips sticky. “Let me eat you out so good you cry.” 

You took a shaky breath. You couldn’t say no to him, it was impossible. Not when he could get you wet with the lamest of lines. “Bit sadistic, but okay.” 

His face literally was between your ass in no time. On all fours, your skirt bunched up around your waist, underwear thrown to the floor somewhere. 

“Spread your legs a little more for me.” He was murmuring but it was still a command and you listened, lowering your back in the process so he could hit your clit better with his tongue. 

Amongst the pleasure, you kept thinking of how dumb this was. Yes, his door was locked, and yes, nobody had probably realised you’d gone, too busy partying downstairs, but fuck, this was so, so stupid... Why did neither of you have any self-control?! 

“Ha-Have you ever had someone go down on your ass before?” 

“What?” You jerked up at his question, the surprise taking over, your ass hitting him in the face. 

“Woah, calm down.” He chuckled, steadying you with gentle hands. “You nearly knocked me out.” 

“Sorry,” you all but squeaked. Thoughts of downstairs were no more. What was he talking about and where had it come from? 

“Well, have you?” He pressed. 

You told yourself to take a breath, and then replied. “No.” 

You could feel Seokjin’s breath puffing against your wetness, making you squirm. “Is it something you’d like to try maybe?” 

What the hell. You felt like you were getting interviewed. “I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it.” That was a lie actually. Your ex had begged you to do it on more than one occasion, you’d just never relented. 

Seokjin sounded a little impatient when he spoke next. “Can you think about it now, please?” 

“You want to eat my ass?” What a dumb question. It was obvious he did. 

“Yes, very much so,” he practically lamented, fingers running along your slit to rub at your clit. 

“Ooooohhh,” you huffed, unable to stop yourself from arching into him. You felt his lips press against one ass cheek, kissing it softly. 

“It’s just staring at me.” His voice was small. He stroked you harder. “Always staring at me and I want–I want to make you feel good.” 

“Okay.” 

You had never made a decision so fast in all your life. You’d even surprised yourself. You’d definitely surprised him. 

“Okay?” He repeated, as if he hadn’t quite heard you properly. 

“Yes, okay.” You were wet and horny and now desperate for an orgasm. He could go down on whatever he wanted. “I trust you. If you say it’ll feel good then I believe you.” 

You sensed him pause behind you, as if he was contemplating something, or maybe he was still in shock at how easy you’d given into him. You squeaked out when he spanked you out of the blue, jutting forward as he told you, “You’ll love it. Trust me.” 

He was confident, you’d give him that. Had he done it before? Probably. No man was this sure of himself without knowing for sure he could back it up. Seokjin liked to talk shit, but it was all true. Always true. He was no liar. 

He kissed your ass cheek again, opening his mouth to pass his tongue over the flesh like it was about to kiss him back, all while rubbing you expertly, fingers quietly squelching around your clit. His mouth moved closer and closer to his destination... Your heart beat loudly in your chest, the anticipation rushing loudly inside your ears. 

“Oh.” The first little niggle of his tongue got you tensing up, sensation new and confusing as he found his way between your ass. 

“Relax for me,” he whispered, pulling back to give one of your thighs a reassuring rub. You listened easily, softening under his touch, and he used the moment to stop all movement around your clit, grabbing your ass instead to spread it a little. 

“Good girl.” Fuck. He definitely felt your asshole clench at his praise, moaning as he traced it with the tip of his tongue. How embarrassing. 

Closing your eyes, you concentrated on the newfound pleasure, holding back any noises that wanted to slip out. Confident that you were comfortable, Seokjin’s movements got bolder, tongue flattening against the hole, tip flicking back and forth.

With both hands on either side of your ass he pulled back briefly to ask you a question. “Does it feel good?” 

The sudden swipe of his tongue had you moaning out. “Yes–Ngh.” It was new, your body extra sensitive and you didn’t know how to react. 

“Told you.” His breath was hot against your skin, tongue eager once again to pleasure you. Humming in enjoyment, his fingers squeezed into the meat of your ass. “Your ass is a gift from God.” 

You attempted to scoff but it sounded choked up and desperate. “Dramatic, much–Ohhh.” Your body dropped slightly at the sudden spike in pleasure, his tongue nudging it’s way inside you a little. The intrusion was wet and warm and had your thighs trembling. He dug further, wriggling his tongue a little and you buckled once more, burying your face into the covers. “Seokjin, fuck. Fuck.” 

He moaned in response, unable to use words seeing as he was otherwise preoccupied. The vibrations shot up your body, the blood rushing to your head. You didn’t think you could experience a better pleasure. 

You were wrong. 

Once you felt his middle finger push into your vagina a gasp escaped your throat. His other hand reached forward to play with your clit. The sudden onslaught turned you dizzy. 

Seokjin dislodged from you with a lewd flick of his tongue, his lips kissing the hole once before he spoke, voice thick and urgent.  “You love it.” He slipped a second finger inside of you, pressing against your walls as you moaned. Words were useless. And they wouldn’t come anyway. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Lowering his mouth once more, he continued where he left off, grunting when he found he couldn’t quite do it how he wanted now that his hands were preoccupied. “Shit, I don’t have enough hands.” He cursed on cue. 

Body getting more and more desperate for an orgasm, you raised your ass, outstretching your knees wider in a bid to spread your ass. It felt crude and somewhat embarrassing, but you couldn’t find yourself caring that much right now. Not when he was making you feel so good. Not when Seokjin sounded like he was this closing to combusting down to your eagerness. 

“Fuck, yeah,” he muttered, tongue flicking against your hole easily this time. “You love me eating your ass, Y/N.” You felt your cheeks burn, your voice breaking as a noise racked through you. “Y/N,” he pressed. “Tell me how much you love it.” 

He was getting good at this. Pulling words you didn’t have the confidence to say out loud. He brought something out of you. A confidence that had always been too shy to reveal itself. To voice itself. This was a perfect example right now. Your ex had spent years trying to have you like this and here was Seokjin victorious after only two weeks. 

“Seokjin, I love it,” you gasped, hearing him hum enthusiastically as he flicked the tip of his tongue rapidly against you, his cheek pressed flat to your ass. “I love it so much.” 

“I love it too, baby.” He agreed. 

“H-how can you multitask so well?” You asked with a struggle, the roll of his fingertips against your clit making you sensitive. 

Tongue flat to your asshole, he pressed forward, moving his head up and down, soaking you, pleasuring you. He pulled away suddenly, you clenched at nothingness. “An incessant need to pleasure you, that’s how.” 

No matter how many times you heard him say something to that effect, you loved it all the same. It did wonders for your self-confidence, and this time was no different, moaning loudly, ass rocking back into him, desperate for more. 

“You like that, don’t you?” His voice was so low it rumbled. “I love making you feel good. Love making you cum.” You jumped at the sudden sensation of his tongue again, the tip pushing inside you slightly with a few wiggles. The fingers inside of your vagina continued to thrust and press around. Your knees wobbled, whimpers escaping your throat. You were close. 

Tongue pulling out once more, he removed his fingers from your clit, stroking the right side of your ass instead, smearing it with your arousal. “You don’t need that.” His tongue went back to flicking against your hole. “This is enough.” 

Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head. The thought of coming around his fingers as he ate your ass was almost enough to send you over the edge. Seokjin could tell. He already knew your body so well. It was pretty unbelievable. “You gonna cum?” He asked, placing a kiss against your hole, before poking his tongue out, moving it side to side. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed, body bucking with the amount of pleasure travelling through it. He held you up, wrapping his free arm around your middle, holding you to him. To his tongue. He was out of breath, panting and grunting due to not only effort but his own horniness too. He continued fingering you, trying his best with the angle he had. It was enough. Definitely enough. 

“Ohmygoddfdngh,” you exclaimed, words and moans blurring into one as you felt the initial hit of your orgasm. Body immediately taut, you buried your face into the covers, cries muffled as the waves of pleasure crashed throughout your body. 

Seokjin’s fingers eased, pulling out of you halfway, but he continued to eat your ass, tongue gentle, but still just as desperate as he let you inch away, careful not to overdo it as your sensitivity grew to its maximum.  

Still holding you, he finally stopped, placing a wet kiss to your left ass cheek. His lips were so soft. “Shush, shush. Keep it down,” he calmed, stroking your back. 

Had you really been that loud? You couldn’t hear yourself, blood still rushing through your ears, heart pounding against your ribcage. You lifted your head, arms and legs shaky but you held yourself as steady as you could manage. (Although you knew if Seokjin let you go you’d immediately face plant.) 

He chuckled. “Baby, we’ll get caught and then you’d have to explain why you were eagerly on all fours for me letting me eat your ass.” 

You were so fucked the idea didn’t even seem that mortifying. “Okay, okay,” you babbled, pushing back into him. “Just please continue!”

“Always begging...” He murmured smugly. 

You didn’t even know what you were begging for. His dick? His tongue again? You were so turned on you couldn’t think straight. 

He yanked you up with the arm around your waist, moving your hair behind your back to kiss your neck. You felt his erection before he said anything. Rock solid against your back. “You’ve got me so fucking hard. I need to fuck you immediately.” His voice wavered, showing just how turned on he was as well. He couldn’t even keep calm. 

You found yourself on your hands and knees again as he pushed you forward, moving in closer to spank your bare ass. You yelped, raising up higher in desperateness. “This fucking ass,” he practically moaned. “You’re asking for it.” 

“God, Seokjin,” you breathed, feeling lightheaded. 

“Do you want my cock?” He demanded. You nodded, moaning. That wasn’t enough. “Tell me with words, baby.” 

“Yesss,” you whined, impatient now. “I want your cock. Give it to me!” 

With a growl, you heard him begin to unzip his jeans, and then there was a knock at the door. You both froze, unsure what to do. 

“Seokjin? Y/N?” 

It was Jungkook. Of course it was. 

“Y-yeah?” Seokjin called, stammering as you both rushed into action. You pulled your dress down, flipping to sit on your ass. Seokjin stood from the bed, his dick tenting his boxer shorts, sticking out from his undone jeans. 

Jungkook tried the doorknob. Your heart stilled even though you knew he couldn’t get in. “Why’s the door locked?” He asked, sounding confused. 

“Uhh,” Seokjin looked at you, eyes wide as he tried to think of an explanation. “Uh. Y/N’s still chucking up like crazy so I locked it for some privacy.” His voice shook. He definitely sounded turned on. Idiot. And what the fuck? You were still being sick?! 

“Oh.” There was silence. “Was it really those kebabs? I ate quite a lot earlier. I’m worried.” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay as quiet as possible. At least Jungkook was oblivious. He hadn’t heard anything, thank god. Like how you’d been begging for Seokjin’s cock not seconds before he’d turned up at the door. 

“Nah, I’m sure she’s just drunk,” Seokjin assured. You threw daggers his way. 

“Do you want me to take over?” Jungkook suggested. “Look out for her? You’re missing the party.” Christ, what were you, a baby? “I saw Ana and Yoongi making their way upstairs, so.” 

Oh my god, you hadn’t! Anyone could have walked upstairs and heard you both. You’d let pleasure get in the way of your rationality. It was all Seokjin’s fault! 

“No, it’s fine,” Seokjin replied, relaxed now as he sat back on the bed. His boxers were still tented. How was he hard at a time like this?! “I feel semi-responsible anyway. I kept encouraging her to do more jelly shots.” 

Jungkook sniggered. “She’s going to kill you when she sobers up, man.” 

“If she remembers–Ow-ouch!” Yes, you had just reached over and pinched his penis. He wasn’t getting away with talking shit about you, no matter how amazing the orgasm he’d just given you had been. 

“What’s up?” Jungkook questioned, sounding concerned. 

“I stubbed my fucking toe against the bed.” 

“Lame,” he scoffed. 

With the silence that followed you stared at Seokjin, mouthing silently and miming with your hands as you told him to get rid of his friend. You’d have the whole party up here in a minute, wondering what the hell was going on. 

“Jin?” Jungkook prompted. 

Seokjin flew up, rushing to the bathroom to flush the toilet. He shouted out. “Damn, toilet’s flushing, I guess she’s done for the time being. Better go and check on her!” 

“Okay.” 

“I promise once she passes out I’ll come down!” 

Your mouth flew open at the nerve of it. You were going to get your revenge. Asshole. 

“Yeah, okay,” Jungkook replied, tapping the door to say goodbye. “Good luck.” 

You both waited in excruciating silence as he left, making sure a whole minute had passed so there was no risk of getting heard. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” You seethed, pointing at Seokjin accusingly. “All this just so you can eat some ass.” 

“Eat your ass,” he corrected, unbothered by your aggressiveness. “And actually, that was a spur of the moment kinda thing. I didn’t plan it.” 

You didn’t believe him. Not for one second. Watching as he rounded the bed, you narrowed your eyes. “What are you doing?” 

He was reaching for the top drawer of his nightstand. “Grabbing a condom.” 

“Nuh uh. No way,” you shook your head, folding your arms. “You’re not getting your dick wet now.” He was dumb, and how was he still hard?? 

“What do you mean?” He asked, affronted. 

“Just get downstairs to your party.” You sighed. “It’s time for me to ‘pass out’.” 

By the look on his face he immediately knew how he’d fucked up. It was pretty comical. You had one final demand for him as he stood there in shock. “Give me the TV remote on your way out.” 

Ahh, revenge was definitely sweet. 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[wordsablaze]

8~ so just let me in

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: it’s been a busy couple months but are y’all ready for some seriously soft EMOTION ???

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @blueboobutterfly @havenoffandoms @lasaga666

previous chapter

-

Eskel wakes up alone.

For a fleeting moment he finds nothing wrong in that since he’s more than used to being by himself on the path, but then he remembers how things have very recently changed and jolts upright, concern rushing through his veins as if it were a literal potion.

Before he’s even truly awake, he’s none too gracefully made his way down the stairs to the main room of the inn and come to an abrupt halt as he catches the familiar scent of lavender and ink and bardic warmth.

“You already know of the way she sings, but wait ‘til you see the gleam of her wings…”

He’s performing.

Of course he’s performing.

Eskel isn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting to find but hearing Jaskier entertain patrons with a song about sirens was definitely not on the list, especially since he knows this must be a new song if he’s talking about the wings he didn’t know existed until just a few days ago.

“Be not afraid if a siren is near, for the rose of the wolves will vanquish your fear…”

Eskel blinks.

He’d gotten distracted by the shock of realising he’s doing perhaps a little more worrying than necessary but he finds himself paying attention once again when Jaskier introduces this new nickname. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous but it has to be for him because he’s describing a wolf witcher fighting a siren; Geralt has never been described as a rose and as far as he’s aware, Jaskier has never crossed paths with either Lambert or Vesemir, which leaves only one option.

He’s been described as many things in his life but never has he been compared to something so beautiful as a flower. And not just any flower, a rose. To be aligned with the beauty of a rose feels like some sort of grave and misleading crime.

“So call for a toast or two or more, for the rose of the wolves is right here at your door!”

And with a rather dramatic spinning manoeuvre, Jaskier lifts a tankard from the table closest to him and gestures to where Eskel is leaning against the wall. Not having expected the attention and apparently having missed the rest of the song whilst thinking about Jaskier’s use of monikers, Eskel is wholly unprepared for the way almost everyone turns to raise their drink in his direction, either smiling or cheering or drunkenly singing along to this new song.

He ends up being handed three drinks before he manages to weave his way through the small but surprisingly solid crowd and settle in the corner once more. Jaskier joins him not long after, with two plates of food that he sets on the table with a flushed grin. “I’m sorry to have made you miss lunch,” he says.

Eskel shakes his head. “I’d do it again if necessary. How are you feeling?”

Jaskier shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of potato before replying, “Nothing like a good performance to lift a man’s spirits, right?”

It’s an evasive answer but Eskel lets him have it, the two of them settling into a comfortable silence that allows them to enjoy their meals. Once again, Eskel has no idea how Jaskier manages to perfectly organise drinks, meals, and performances at the same time and he’s very close to writing it off as some sort of bardic magic.

“So… the rose of the wolves?” Eskel asks eventually.

To his surprise, Jaskier’s face immediately flushes with an oddly adorable shade of red. “I… I didn’t mean to offend you, I know that you witchers respect your image and all! I just- I- Well, I didn’t exactly have a lot of time and I wanted to show my thanks for everything you've done but simply reworking toss a coin seemed a little belittling so I- I tried to- It was the best I could do but if you didn’t like it, I can uh, avoid a repeat or… or come up with something else? Or-”

“Jaskier, calm down,” Eskel interrupts, reaching out to place one of his hands atop the bard’s fidgeting ones, “I’m far from offended by your flattering portrayal of me.”

Thankfully, the uncomfortably sharp scent of panic dies down and Jaskier manages a small smile. “So you liked it then?”

“No.”

Jaskier’s face falls.

“I loved it,” Eskel clarifies and, as rapidly as it had fallen, Jaskier’s expression morphs into a bright glee he’s only ever seen on children that aren’t quite tall enough to reach his waist.

It takes the bard a moment to gather his wits again but he weaves his fingers in between Eskel’s and gently squeezes once he does, grinning widely. “That was just about the worst and the best feedback I have ever received and I swear to you that I will cherish it until the end of my days.”

“Why don’t you worry about the end of your plate first?”

Jaskier laughs and gods does Eskel wish he could slow the passage of time and revel in having been able to cause such a lovely sound for just a little longer. Or a lot longer. Or forever, because he has never witnessed anything quite so satisfying as this particular bard’s happiness.

Although in terms of satisfying experiences, Jaskier keeping a firm hold of one of his hands while they both continue eating is another strong one. When he really thinks about it, almost everything he’s experienced with the bard is equally as beautiful: having his hair gently washed, having an arm looped over his shoulders, having eyes unflinchingly meet his, having someone to share a meal with, having warmth to keep him company at night, having his armour adjusted before he leaves the room, having-

“Eskel, darling, are you okay?”

He jumps.

Jaskier’s mouth is quirked upwards into a small smile as he squeezes Eskel’s hands again. “You’ve been staring at your ale long enough for me to steal the last of your food. Should I be giving you and your tankard some time alone? A separate room, perhaps?”

“No, I… I was just uh, thinking,” Eskel manages, overly aware of his face heating up in embarrassment as he realises that both their plates are now empty. There hadn’t been a lot left on his plate really, just a vegetable that he doesn’t know the name of but doesn’t like, but it’s still slightly mortifying that he hadn’t noticed the theft.

“Care to provide any more specific details?” Jaskier asks, now leaning forward so his chin is propped on the base of his palm, his elbow resting on the table between them.

Eskel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before meeting the bard’s amused gaze. “You’ll have to forgive me for saying no.”

Chuckling, Jaskier shakes his head. “How impolite to dine with someone and leave them so terribly alone as you retreat to your own head.”

Now it’s Eskel’s turn to smile softly, mirroring Jaskier’s position with his free hand and leaning forward as far as he thinks he can without risking making the bard uncomfortable.  “How can I make it up to you, bardling?”

He’s a little surprised when a soft gasp escapes Jaskier, and he’s even more surprised to realise that he’d also shuffled closer when Eskel had, meaning that he can both hear and feel the gasp.

“You already have,” Jaskier whispers, his voice ghosting Eskel’s lips, “in more ways than you know.”

Frowning, Eskel tilts his head to the left just enough to make his disagreement clear. “I have a lot of gratitude to pay back, Jaskier, and I have yet to even begin.”

They’re so close that it seems impossible to have previously missed the tiny hints of green in the skies that are Jaskier’s eyes and yet it feels as though they are worlds apart, worlds that Eskel wishes he could but doesn’t know exactly how he’s meant to bring together.

“I can’t wait,” Jaskier replies quietly, his voice barely present but somehow strong enough to drown out the rest of the inn around them.

Eskel smiles once again, squeezing Jaskier’s hand reassuringly. “And I would never make you.”

There’s a pause in which both of them forget how they’re meant to even breathe but Jaskier recovers first, his gaze briefly flickering to different parts of Eskel’s face - his scars, his hair, his lips - before once again meeting his eyes. “But what if you don't have a choice?”

“I will always have a choice,” Eskel replies slowly, some miraculously still coherent part of him recognising that Jaskier’s question holds far more weight to it than it seems, a weight that he can’t yet understand but can respect nonetheless, “and I will always choose you.”

The scent of salt slices through the space between them.

Before Eskel can form an apology, Jaskier blinks once, twice, a dozen times, enough to pull back the tears that were threatening to fall and undo the intensity of their mutual gaze.

“I… I need… I’m so sorry, I- I…” Jaskier mumbles shakily, pulling back, his hand sliding out of Eskel’s as he rushes to stand, stumbling over himself as he retreats, weaves between everyone around him, slips through the door as if he were made of smoke.

Eskel audibly exhales, not entirely sure what just happened. But he doesn’t want a repeat of the last times Jaskier had abruptly left so he stands before he can sink into his guilt, following the scent of lavender and ink and salt as swiftly as he can, all the way to the stables and just beyond.

It’s a pond of sorts.

And Jaskier is perched at the edge, knees pulled up to his chest, hunched over himself.

“Jaskier?”

Obviously a bad idea.

Jaskier startles badly, his body literally jumping in the air, only narrowly avoiding toppling into the water because Eskel darts forwards and grabs his arms, pulling him back, holding him close, not letting go even when the two of them land on the muddy grass with a confused thud.

Still nestled in Eskel’s arms, Jaskier twists and curls himself around said witcher, burying his head in his chest and breathing in his presence as Eskel guides them into a more seated position.

“I’m sorry,” Eskel murmurs, lifting one of his hands and gently brushing his fingers through Jaskier’s hair, his other arm settling more firmly around his waist. And Jaskier melts at his touch, his fingers curling into rudimentary fists around Eskel’s shirt as he sighs - Eskel is suddenly very glad he hadn’t sleepily pulled on his armour earlier or else this would be a lot spikier and far less comfortable for the bard.

“You’re the last person who needs to be sorry, Eskel,” Jaskier murmurs back.

“And yet here I am,” Eskel chuckles, continuing to soothingly play with Jaskier’s hair so he doesn’t do something utterly stupid like lean down and kiss his forehead.

Jaskier lets out something between a laugh and a sob, shaking in Eskel’s hold for a moment before he nods, shifting just enough for him to look up and meet Eskel’s eyes with a strange smile. “And yet here you are,” he agrees softly, sadly, sincerely.

There’s a story behind Jaskier’s conflicted reaction that Eskel doesn’t have the heart to ask for, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

“Why did you come here?” he asks instead. He had actually meant to ask why Jaskier had left the tavern but the words had changed on his tongue without him thinking about it because they’d instinctively felt wrong.

Jaskier shrugs, resting his head on Eskel’s shoulder. “The water.”

After a pause, he laughs a little bitterly and continues, “I know it seems strange but it’s peaceful. You must think me such a fool for seeking the comfort of what almost became the cause of my death but…”

Eskel starts to guide his fingers through Jaskier’s hair again, trying to soothe away the sour scent that threatens to creep up around them. “I don’t think you’re a fool,” he promises.

Jaskier hums in response but Eskel can feel his doubt so he clears his throat pointedly. “You just sang about sirens, Jaskier. You sang about them despite being almost killed by one not long before. I wouldn’t call that foolishness, I would call that bravery.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Jaskier chuckles, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it as a joke and Eskel is painfully reminded of his previous tired rambling about the worth of bards, or rather, lack thereof.

He wonders again just how Jaskier acts so bold and surely around everyone he meets when there’s constantly something inside him that screams such cruel lies and tries to shatter his confidence. And he wonders again if breaking the white wolf’s nose would in any way help the situation because although he knows it can’t entirely be blamed on him, he must have fed more than copious amounts of fuel to the fire.

“Sometimes they are,” Eskel replies eventually, “but not right now. Right now, I see someone who managed to turn a near-death experience into both flattery and entertainment. Trust me when I say that’s certainly not the work of a fool.”

Jaskier’s breath hitches again but this time, he just nods, his fists finally uncurling and his arms settling more easily around Eskel. “I trust you,” he whispers and although that doesn’t mean he believes it, it’s better than nothing.

“Thank you,” Eskel whispers back, smiling as Jaskier’s scent becomes sweeter, lighter, far happier than just moments ago.

“Thank you,” Jaskier counters, sniffling.

“Aren’t you meant to be a master of words, bardling, not just copying mine?” Eskel asks, incredibly pleased when Jaskier laughs in response, gently butting his head against Eskel’s shoulder in mock offence.

Neither of them move until Eskel’s leg goes numb, at which point he overbalances and Jaskier, who’d been totally leaning on him, yelps as he topples to one side, both of them grabbing onto one another and landing in a horizontal heap with Eskel on his back and Jaskier half on Eskel’s chest and half in the mud.

“Ugh, this is going to stain so badly,” Jaskier groans.

Eskel snorts, still confused about the bard’s priorities in life. “More importantly, you’re probably going to have some new bruises.”

Jaskier pushes himself up to his feet and holds out a hand, which Eskel takes without thinking. By the time he’s questioning whether he should have just pulled himself up, Jaskier’s already lifted him upright and has turned to brushing grass off his shoulder.

Eskel stares at him for a moment, surprised that Jaskier had managed to pull him up so smoothly. Jaskier blushes again when he catches Eskel staring, lifting a hand to his face. “What is it? Do I have mud all over me?”

“Uh, no,” Eskel coughs, mentally chiding himself for being so obvious.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jaskier grins, half-turning in the direction of the inn as if to ask permission to return there.

Shaking his head, he gestures for Jaskier to go ahead and lead the way as if he hadn’t already decided to not only follow the bard back to the inn but wherever he wishes to go for the rest of his life.

-

okay so i know it's still messy but i just ?? really liked writing this chapter ?? gotta love idiots being mutually smitten with each other but ceasing to function when met with hints of love because ~insecurity~

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[ren-c-leyn]

Follower Celebration Story:

As promised, here is the follower celebration story! Thank you very, very much to everyone who sent in words for this. The only word I received a double of was safe, so it will be bolded twice in the story. If I use one of the other words more than once, it will only be bolded the first time. (For those wondering why the word chart is bolded, it was so I could keep track of what words I had and hand’t used while I was writing.)

The word chart:

Feckless, Umbrella, indifference, attentive, vaguely, archetype, diorama, vermilion, Lone, family, angelic, Sally, Safe x 2, Sound, Passion, Adore, Desire, sky, storm, bracelet, resilient, amber, peeling, fangs, fur, claws, abide, lessen, Dynasty, shots, bogwater, Window, Map, Tower, bruschetta, petrichor, disastrous, anachronistic, ethereal, fury, misty, charcoal, greenery, bleach, crown, stuff.

Keep an eye out for the bolded words as you go!

Warnings: This piece does include death, bones, a fight scene, a little bit of blood, but nothing in gory detail. I hope you all enjoy the piece, I had a great time writing this one and am proud of how it turned out =D

~

 The air was thick with the scent of petrichor, and the sky laid heavy with storm clouds, preparing for their second bout of rain. I clutched at my umbrella as I watched the grays of the sky mix with the misty whites that clung to the forest greenery. A terrible day to be the lone traveler.

 Gods know if it wasn’t so important I would have stayed home, safe and sound, by the warmth of my hearth. But no. I had to be out, running errands for the crown.

 A sigh slipped from my lips. No point in complaining about it. I just had to rise to the occasion and sally forth, into the disgusting swampland and get this over with. The sooner I finished the mission, the sooner I could return to my family.

 The trudge through the bogwater and vines would have destroyed a less resilient person. Every step felt like I was being swallowed by the mud. The mist dulled the senses and rendered my map useless. For a long while, I was not sure if I was walking in a straight line or a winding path. The only thing that helped guide me at all was the occasional trees I would stumble into, damp with moss and thin bark practically peeling off at the slightest touch.

 That was the first sign to me that I was on the right path. Or rather, that this path led to something terribly wrong, just as I had been told. The confirmations came steadily after the trees started feeling sickly. The mist darkened first and then the water did. Both of them blackened until they matched the color of charcoal, all the while the water slowly thickened to a paste. All were tells of something disastrous, indeed.

 Time seemed to lose it’s meaning in that place. There was nothing to indicate that it was moving at all, aside from the appalling squelching of my own boots and our seemingly endless battle with the mud. I think I would have gone mad without it, to be frank. Everything seemed to be attempting to rob me of my senses, drain me of my mind. Had I been out there much longer, it may have succeeded.

 However, I found the edge of the black mist before it found the edge of my will. There are no words to describe how absolutely delighted I was to realize that it was thinning, waning. Every fragment of my being had the great desire to see anything besides the deep darkness that seemed to be devouring me.

 I rushed forward with all my speed, sending the dark mud spraying with each heavy step. When I broke out of the mist, my feet hit solid ground and my eyes met with hints of color. The dark greens of moon-kissed grass, the dim twinkle of distant starts, pale stones scattered in the distance, and the grayed silhouette of a great tower.

 A broad smile pulled onto my face as I laughed. The joy, however, was short lived as I stepped forward and onto something that cracked underfoot. My gaze traveled downward only to meet the empty eye socket of a bleached skull. Dread formed a pit in my stomach as I looked up from the bones I was standing on and took a closer look at the rest of the pale ‘stones’. None, in fact, were rocks, but rather... bones.

 I tread lightly as I moved from skeleton to skeleton. Elves, dwarves, humans, male, female, it all varied greatly. The only thing that did not seem to was the terrible cracks and violent tears in the bones themselves. Something powerful did this. Something without mercy nor remorse.

 I swallowed thickly, straightening my cloak before turning my gaze to the tower. My bet was, was the monster responsible for this lived in there, and likely was in possession of my true objective.

 I forced myself to the side of indifference as I stepped past those unfortunate enough to have come before me and towards the tower itself. There was nothing I could do for them now, save perhaps vengeance. And I got the feeling that if I wanted to make it back home, safe and sound, then I would have no choice but to get these people their revenge.

 The tower itself was not the largest I had ever seen, but it was certainly one of the more ornate. Statues depicting mighty beasts sat defiantly on either side of the iron wrought doors, both far from angelic in visage. I did not answer their challenge, at least, not immediately. Instead, I took my time to wander around the perimeter, attempting to get an idea of what I was to face.

The place was peculiar. Almost anachronistic, if I were to put a word to it. The stone work was of ancient designs, almost the very archetype of them. The craftsmanship was similar only to the oldest of the temples in the land, but seemed as fresh as if it were built yesterday. The wild rose vines growing around it, however, were the very embodiment of ancient ruin. Gnarled and unkempt. Some of them even went so far in their defiance of the tower’s perfection to dig into the stones where they were weakest.

 A flash of movement in a window caught my attention, but was gone by the time my eyes had focused in one it. I cursed myself for not being more attentive. It could have been an enemy with a bow, and I would have been doomed. There would have been no dodging such shots unaware from this distance. Thankfully, it had not been, but I believed it was safe to say that I had lost any element of surprise I may have once had.

 A deep sigh escaped me as I turned my gaze up to the ethereal glow of the moon. There was no time left, it seemed.

 I returned to the stone beasts and walked past them to the entrance. Their silent snarls were lost to me as I pushed past the great doors and into the depths of the tower itself. I was greeted with what felt like yet another rift in time, as the interior of the tower was in great disrepair.

 The vermilion carpet was torn and worn down, blood stains long turned brown and rotted in places. Paintings had fallen from the walls, their pictures long faded and frames cracked. There were great claw marks and gouges in the walls and scraps across the dulled flooring. Ruined furniture littered the rooms as I stalked through them, clutching tightly at my staff.

 It was hard to discern exact shapes among the mounds of ruined stuff. I would freeze into place anytime I saw something even vaguely shaped like a beast or a person. By the third or forth room, I was contemplating casting a light spell, but the risk of drawing attention to myself was more than I could abide. Not when it seemed as though something within these walls had a passion for death and destruction. 

 After clearing the first floor, I slowly made my way up the old staircase. There were moments when I feared it would not hold my weight, but it thankfully held firm. I winced at every groan and creak of the decaying wood, however, and prepared myself for a battle.

 But the battle did not come. I arrived safely at the landing of the second floor, and found nothing more than I did on the first floor. Then the third, and the forth, until I reached the fifth floor, where time and reality again seemed to be removed from the tower’s presence. And it was here that I sensed what I had come for as waves of magic energy ebbed down through the halls and to the stairs where I stood.

 The carpet was a darker red, in one piece and untouched by time, only one of the tapestries were torn through with claws, paintings remained hanging, the furniture was whole, everything seemed as it should, except not at all.

 Sparks of magic flitted through the air, casting ominous glows as I checked the floor, room by room. They were dark colors, and almost made crying noises as they phased in and out of existence. Many people mistook such things as spirits of some sort, but they were truly just extra magic that the fabric of reality could not absorb. Nothing to fear themselves, but usually they were the signs that something that should be feared was near.

 In the last room, I found the most curious thing. There was a pedestal with a bracelet upon it, my goal, I assumed. It was a plain, silver one, no markings or jewels of any kind, but the magic energy I felt from it was dizzying. Lesser mages would have fallen to their knees long before they reached this room, but I was not the court mage for nothing.

 After claiming my prize, and sealing it within an enchanted bag to contain it’s power, I spotted something even more odd. On an end table in the corner was what appeared to be a  diorama of the tower itself. I admit that my curiosity got the better of me, beckoning me to have a look. It seemed to be a perfect scale model, everything laid out as I had found it so far, but it didn’t take me long to notice something truly unsettling.

 A little figurine... shaped just like me was standing in the corner of the room, and moving, actually moving, was another figurine, shaped like a monster I had never heard of. Not only was it moving, it was moving down the hallway of the floor I was on, heading straight for this room.

 Fear and adrenaline rushed through my veins as I desperately searched for an escape, or at least a hiding place, but neither were available in this room. I was at the very end of the hall, and I could hear the scraping of claws coming for me. With flight not longer open to me, I turned to face the door, raising my staff as I began to call upon the magic within me.

 “Poor, little, feckless mage,” a deep, growling voice seemed to sing from within the darkness of the hall, “You adore a dying age. The queen’s dynasty shall end, and another will begin.”

 I held the spell, waiting for it to come into view. The little motes of magic flashed in the hall from time to time, illuminating shadows and small flashes, but nothing solid enough for me to know my strike would land true. Then, I saw them, the terrible amber eyes.

 I flung the bolt of ice at it’s head, but it leaped over it and into the room. It was a massive creature, with fangs and claws to match. Pale fur bristled as it laughed, laughed at me.

 “My turn,” it purred, sung, whatever one would call that horrifying voice.

 Then, it came at me with fury enough to give dragons pause. It took every, single bit of my training and experience with battle to so much as lessen the deep wounds it tore into me. I kept the jaws at bay with my staff, or what little of it remained after it took the full force of the first bite. The claws cut through my robes like they were nothing, and aided it in pinning me to the floor. But not even it’s massive bulk could save it at this distance.

 I put my hand to it’s exposed belly and drew on not only my own magics, but those that were floating aimlessly around the both of us. And I set fire to the wretched creature. It shrieked with pain and wrath as it thrashed and rolled. I followed up with lightening and ice and then more fire. It came charging at me, fangs and fury and bloodlust, but I conjured a wall of magic between the two of us that it slammed into.

 “I am the court mage of these lands!” I shouted as the monster wailed in rage. “And you shall pay dearly for the blood you have spilled and the wicked deeds you have committed here.”

 And then, the room went white with the explosion of magic that rattled the tower to it’s core. There was the scream of the monster and then the howl of shattering, collapsing stonework. 

 The walk back was far more pleasant than the walk to the tower, even if I was sorer for it. Between the deep tears the creature left in me, and the bruises and cracked rib I got from the collapse of the tower itself, I felt lousy and just wanted a hot plate of bruschetta, a warm bath, a healer, and some sleep. Frankly, I was beyond caring about which order those came in. But, first thing was first, I had to get back to the castle to have the ruinous bracelet destroyed before it caused the world anymore troubles....

~

Submitter taglist: @1-2-butter-my-shoe, @the960writers, @ducky-writez, @candy687, @silver-wields-a-pen, @whiteomorox, @hyba, @ratherinterestingmilkshake, @bookenders, @leave-her-a-tome, @likelyfantasywriterspsychic, @kaatiba, @aziz-writes, @somethingreallydeepandprofound, @montevena, And, last but certainly not least, @innocentreticent.

 Thank you all again! This was quite the challenge and I had a blast working my way through it ^-^ This story wouldn’t have been possible without your combined and creative word choices.

Short story taglist, because this still counts for that: (You may ask to be added to/ removed from my taglists at any time. Just let me know ) 

@wemitodd, @greenwood-writes, @elkatheinkstained, @n1ghtcrwler, @writingiswilde, @say-no-to-negativity,  @dawnscribbles, @silvertalonwriteblr, @inspiring-prompts, @dawnoftheagez, @likelyfantasywriterspsychic, @orphicodysseywrites, @mischiefiswritten, @nemowritesstuff

[bisexualbuck]

Firefam Prompt: During Athena's suspension, she's alone at home while the kids are at Michael's. At the firehouse, Buck is sick but tries to make it through his 24 hr-shift with no fuss. Bobby eventually has to send him home but doesn't want him to be alone. With the rest of the team (and Maddie) in the middle of a shift, he sends Buck home with the one person who he knows is free; Athena. She did say she "needed to do something..." (maybe firefam goes to the Grant/Nash house later for a visit?)

[Read on AO3]

“No.”

“Bobby, I’m fine – ”

“You’re not working today, and that’s it. End of discussion.”

Hen gives Buck a look that reads are you even surprised and why the hell did you even bother to show up and Buck throws his uniform shirt at her. It misses her by several feet.

Buck does not pout.

“I can work, Cap’,” he tries again. He knows it’s a lost cause but he has never known when to give up.

“What did I just say? Didn’t I just say end of discussion?”

It’s such a dad thing to say that it has Buck wincing in shame before he remembers that, as much as he’d want to, Bobby isn’t his dad.

Huh. Weird thought to have. Of course Bobby isn’t his dad.

Okay, so maybe his mind feels foggy and slow, and his whole body aches, andhis throat is drier than Death Valley in the summer. But that doesn’t mean he can’t work.

Does it?

His gaze falls on Eddie who is doing nothing to hide his worry at his boyfriend’s weakened state, and he sighs in frustration.

He hates being sick. He hates missing work, he is always terrified that one day day, he will slack up too much and then he will be left behind. The world will move on without him.

“You’re definitely hot,” Chim says as he puts his hand to Buck’s forehead.

Buck did not even notice him approaching. That alone tells him that he is no condition to do his job and ugh, why did he have to get sick?

“Coming on to me, Chim? What will Maddie say?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Can Maddie come pick you up?” Bobby asks, though it’s kind.

Buck shakes his head. Black dots start dancing in his eyes as he does, andhe has to hold himself onto Chim until the wave of dizziness passes. Whenit does, he sees that his team is surrounding him, having stepped closer to him.

Eddie is by his side, his arm wrapped around Buck, and his boyfriend’s thumb has slipped under his shirt to caress his skin in a comforting movement.

“She’s working until 10pm,” Chim answers for him when it’s clear Buck won’t.

“I can stay by myself,” Buck protests – weakly.

“No you can’t,” Hen says. “We’re all working, and it’s not like you have other friends.”

“Hey. That’s not true. I have friends.”

“I love you but you really don’t.”

Now, Buck is pouting. Sure it’s true, but he doesn’t like it being said like that. Likethey can joke about it while they are the only people he has in the world besides his sister.

They are all looking at him with wide eyes.

“What?” he asks, defensive.

He feels raw in a way he can only explain by the fever he is running, and worse than he did this morning. He is barely standing up and he knows, though he won’t say it out loud, that he would have fallen over were it not for Chim and Eddie holding him up.

“Are you – oh my God, you’re crying.”

Buck puts his hand up to his cheek, and stares in confusion at the wetness on his fingers. The effects of the medicine he took earlier are wearing off, he feels himself getting weaker.

“Alright everyone,” Bobby intervenes. “Buck, you’re not working today. Athena is still off work right now and she’s going to come pick you up.”

Defeated, tired, Buck can only nod.

He really hates being sick.

.

To say that Athena is surprised by Bobby’s request of babysitting Buck would be an understatement. She isn’t surprised that he called it babysitting, but she is surprised that Buck agreed with the idea of her picking him from the station and spending the day with her.

When she sees the state he’s in, she understands.

He wasn’t left a choice at all.

“Buckaroo, did you really think you could work today?”

“Wasn’t that bad when I woke up,” he mumbles, and sure, she totally believes it.

The team isn’t here, they are gone on a call. She thinks about waiting for them but she does not know how long it will be before they get back, and Buck looks dejected enough as it is without having to hear about what he’s missed on the job.

“Come on, Buck. Don’t make me carry you to the car.”

“You couldn’t,” he says as he gets up.

She only raises one eyebrow at him. He squirms a little under her gaze and she has to fight off a smile.

“You could?” he asks, a little lost.

“Do you want to find out?”

Apparently he does not because he follows her down the stairs and to her car. He is half-asleep by the time they get to her house. Thankfully, neither of them have to find out if Athena truly can carry him.

.

She has to admit that Buck isn’t that bad of a patient. He mostly just lays on the couch, under an impossible amount of blankets, and either sleeps his cold off or watches TV.

These past few days on suspension have been hard on her. Solving Emmett’s murder has brought up a lot of buried memories, but she has been healing – at long last. She had bottled up her feelings for the death of her fiancé for so long that letting it out can only be a painful process.

A process nonetheless, that Athena does not have to undertake by herself.

Bobby has been her rock, of course, but not only him. Michael, Hen, her kids too – they all have been there for her in their own way and she is so grateful for it.

She can’t wait to go back to work. Working has always been a way for her to put her feelings asides for a greater cause, to feel useful and needed.

Buck groans on the couch, and her attentions shifts on him. His eyes flutter open but they don’t see her, instead focusing on nothing. His cheeks are flushed red from the fever, he looks miles away from his own body, lost, almost like a child.

“You’re alright there, Buckaroo?”

He starts lightly at the sound of her voice, his gaze finally finding her, but not seeing her.

“Mom?”

Her breath catches in her throat but then, she softens at the sight he makes, disoriented and lost, but trusting, like he knows despite the confusion of not even knowing what is happening or where he is, that he is safe.

“Not quite,” she replies softly.

“Oh, Athena.” He blinks a few times. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Let me get you some water.”

He only hums in answer, his eyes already closing again. She hurries to get him a glass and a Tylenol before he falls back asleep.

“Here, get up. Take this.”

His movements are sluggish as he gets up but he does it by himself. She puts her hand on his forehead, his fever is still high but he should be back to normal in a few days. He swallows the pill and she urges him to down the whole drink before getting the glass back.

“I’m sorry to be a burden,” Buck whispers, eyes glossy. “I don’t mean to.”

Athena is seized by the sudden need to search after every person who has ever made Buck feel like he was a burden. She has had her issues with him in the beginning, but even then, she had seen the fire in him.

Now that she knows him, she knows how deeply he loves, how bright he burns, how far he is willing to go to help, not just those he loves, but anyone who may need it. She also knows that, behind his jokes and smiles, lays a sensitive man that isn’t always sure of his worth.

She comes to sit next to him, manhandling him into laying back down and so that his head rests on her tight, the way May or Harry would when they get sick. Her hand finds itself  soothing his curls, she smiles down at his so very blue eyes, wide and fixed on her.

“You’re not a burden, Evan Buckley. You’ve never been.”

He blinks up a her. A soft, almost timid, smile appears on his lips.

“You can’t say I’m a very fun guest to have around though.”

She flicks him on the nose and laughs at his outraged reaction.

“Believe it or not,” she says, “but I was going crazy doing nothing. This is a welcomed distraction. Also, I’d rather you be here than at your place, wallowing in your own misery. At least I can keep an eye on you. We can never be sure with you that you won’t find a way to end up in the hospital – again.”

“I love you.”

His eyes widen dramatically like he never meant to say it out loud.

“I love you too, Buckaroo,” she tells him, gentle, before he can have a heart attack on her.

“Oh.”

He gives her a blinding smile, a little goofy. His eyes shine a little too bright but she won’t mention it, will blame it on the fever.

“You know,” she says, “a man your age has no business being this cute.”

He frowns, “Sorry?”

“Get back to sleep, Buck. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, eyes already closed.

In seconds, his breathing has slowed and he is fast asleep. True to her words, she does not move away, she leaves her hand in his hair and at some point, she falls asleep too.

.

“Any news from Athena?” Hen asks when they get back to the station after their last call of their shift.

“She texted me an hour ago telling me that everything is alright,” Bobby answers. “Buck’s been sleeping the day away.”

“God, I wish that were me,” Chim groans, still covered in grim from the fire they have just put out. “I’m taking a shower and then I’m out of here and you won’t hear from me for two weeks.”

“You’ve got a shift tomorrow,” Bobby reminds him, amused at his friend’s antics.

“I’m not hearing it! Bye everyone!”

They laugh as he all but runs to the showers but they are quick to follow him. Nothing crazy happened on their shift, but it was still long and exhausting and they all want to be gone from the station.

Eddie too wants nothing but to run back to his place, spend some time with Christopher before it’s time for bed, eat dinner together and maybe watch a movie.

Instead, he sends a quick text to Carla telling her he will be a little late and waits for his Captain.

“I’ll be right behind you to pick Buck up from your place.”

“He can spend the night with Athena and I,” Bobby says. “It’s not a problem.”

“Christopher will be heartbroken if I come home without his Buck.”

Eddie smiles softly as he imagines the scene. He loves how much Christopher and Buck adore each other, that’s one of the many things that made Eddie fall for Buck – how big his heart is and how selflessly he loves.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Bobby asks and Eddie knows he isn’t talking about Christopher.

“I do.”

Bobby smiles and pats Eddie on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you two. You deserve that happiness.”

“Thanks, Cap’.”

.

Both men arrive at the Grant-Nash’s household to find Buck laying on Athena’s lap. Her hand is still placed on his head, a comforting but also protective gesture.

Buck doesn’t look as flushed as he had at the firehouse, and he is wearing a small smile even in his sleep.

Neither Buck or Athena wake up at the arrival and, without even consulting one another, both Bobby and Eddie snap a picture of the scene.

It’s their quiet laughter that wake Athena up but she does not look to bothered by that fact if her soft look at the man laying on her lap is any indication.

.

Best Captain sent a picture

Queen Hen: oh my god

Queen Hen: just so you know I AM framing this

Chim-Chim-Chimney: Bobby rip.. Athena is going to murder you

No Nickname Eddie: I thought we weren’t gonna hear from you for two weeks

Chim-Chim-Chimney: blocked

.

Hen does have the best ideas.

That picture gets printed and framed by a few people.

(Buck maybe tears up a bit when he notices it sitting among pictures of May and Henry at Bobby and Athena’s place.)

[talpup]

Chaos: 44

Summary: The day Aizawa Shouta betrayed his Love was the day the Daimon lost everything that mattered in his life. Now, with her awake from her slumber and memory wiped, he has another chance at having her and being happy. There’s only the small problem of heaven wanting his Love dead, and hell wanting control of her. And her promise to protect and help another. Oh! And her remembering what he did.

But Shouta has waited so long to have her back. Has planned and taken measures to see his Love protected. He won’t loose her this time. He’ll do anything to keep her safe, and stop her from remembering his betrayal. Cost and consequences be damned.

Though it really is a shame that the cost just might bring about Chaos.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of violence, sex, questionable con, and non-con (though we’re thankfully done with that), and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20155333/chapters/55955119

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sorry, I've been meaning to add this note since I first introduced the Nenu but kept on forgetting.

For those that don't know, Nenu is a different spelling for Nu or Nun. Depending on what period of ancient Egyptian mythology one's looking at, the Nu is a sort of creator figure that was a watery abyss from which the earth/land came forth from, or (if looking at the negative aspects of later years) a being of chaos and disorder.  The Nu was also described as the 'Father of the gods'.

While the Nenu in Chaos isn't the ancient Egyptian Nenu, I have taken aspects of this mythological deity.

44.1

Shouta's eyes glowed red with his power.  A black tendril burst into existence and wrapped around the beast that had charged him.  He growled, gritting his teeth in effort to restrain the creature with the dense, rope-like blackness.

“Where’s Anna?  Dabi!  Find her.”  Shouta pulled his blade from the beast and stabbed it again.

Dabi set out a blast of white flames and the beast charging him and Shigaraki.  Though no smoke billowed from the seems of his stitches, there was an unpleasant warmth beginning to build from the use of his affinity.

So longer, better use but still an inevitable backlash, Dabi thought as he continued.  Not the greatest news, but good to know I guess.

“Dabi!” Shouta barked.

Dabi grimaced at the telltale burning of the Ties compel.  “Damn it! Aizawa!  I’m a little busy trying not to died.  You’re the one with the Tie that tells you where she is.  You find her!”

Shouta growled taking his anger and frustrations out at the clawing beast.

If the Tie was working, allowing him to sense where Reyanna was, he wouldn’t be asking the stupid Demon to find her.  This damned place must have similar blocks to those that heaven had.

44.2

Reyanna broke away from the Nenu’s hold and flinted several meters back.

Where was Shouta?  She had to get back to him.

“Face me, Sister.”

“I’m not your damned sister, you crazy abomination.”  She tried to call forth her blade but it was more instinct than anything else.

The weapon didn’t come.  Instead her open hand was left empty, her bid unanswered; the blade that had been like a part of her since childhood now nothing but pieces and dust.

The Nenu took a step toward her.

Reyanna crouched and took two back.

“Is that what you think of yourself?  As an abomination?  No wonder you refuse to open yourself to who you truly are.”

Reyanna’s hand closed into a fist.  “I’m nothing like you!  Now tell me, where’s Shouta?”

The Nenu’s bat-like winds expanded making the room they were in even darker.  “You’re right, little Sister.  You are nothing like me.  But you are a child of Chaos just the same.  Bow and submit, and I may yet let your Lover live.”

As much as it hurt her eyes to look the Nenu’s duel form, Reyanna didn’t look away.  One of the first rules Shouta had ever taught her was to never take your eyes off a superior enemy; and the fact was, the enemy standing before her was by far superior.

This Third had to be the most formidable enemy she had ever faced.  The Nenu was greater than the Great Rock that she battled for half a day and nearly lost to.  He might even been greater than Toshinori, who had killed her.

Keeping one eye on the Nenu, she quickly scanned the room.

There were no doors or windows.  She was alone with this thing and saw no physical means of escape.  She tried to flint back to Shouta; but found that she couldn’t flint out of the room.

Shouta… She was the reason he was here.  She had brought Shouta into this mess. She had endangered her Love without thought or care all because he had made her betray her promise to Abril and then hidden that fact.

Damn her stubborn pride, and irrational anger towards him.  She was the one who had broke.  It was her desire for him that broke her.  He was just trying to see her safe and well.  But his deeds and her dwindling fury meant nothing in the face of this.

The worlds.  Her life. All of existence. None of it meant anything.  Not without him.

She had to find him and get him out of here.  To hell with her promise to Abril.  To hell with the task of closing one of the gates.  All that matter was Shouta.  He was the reason for everything.  He was <em>her</em> reason for everything.  Even if she didn’t live to tell him that or how sorry she was; she had to live long enough to find him and see him safe.

Reyanna straightened to her full height, eyes glowing with her power. “Where’s Shouta!”

44.3

“...Shouta!” Reyanna’s voice sounded from overhead.

Shouta's head snapped up.  “Anna!”

He grunted, chest sliced open by claws.  Growling he stabbed the thing again, blade slicing downward through its leg as he pulled the weapon out.

“Zashi! Hold the thing.”

“What!” Hizashi stopped pulling at his embedded blade, to look at the Daimon.

Was Shouta insane?  He couldn’t hold the thing.  They could barely stop it from killing them while working together.

Shouta didn’t respond.  He had already let the dark tendrils fall away from the creature and tried to flint to Reyanna.

Though he could flint, Shouta quickly found that he couldn’t flint up there.  He scowled at the sky above, noticing that both Reyanna’s and the Nenu’s feet were flat as if they were standing on something instead of hovering in the air.

Dense black tendril reappearing Shouta cast it out thinking to lasso her and pull her to him.

At the same time as Shouta made his move, Hawks took to the air, having called back his feathers.  Both Shouta's dark coil and Hawks hit the same invisible barrier and fell back.

Shouta's dense, dark tendril disappeared.

Hawks tumbled to the ground.

“There’s some kind of barrier.”  Hawks said, shaking his ring head.

“Shou!” Hizashi both pleaded and warned.

The Angel was being thrown about.

He refused to let go of his blade which was still embedded in the shoulder of the beast he and Shouta were facing.

Caring little about Hizashi’s presence, the creature bucked wildly and made a zigzagged line toward Shouta.

44.4

Hand in Todoroki’s, Hitoshi allowed his Boyfriend to half lead, half drag him down the countless flights of stairs.

“Just how far down does this place go?”  Hitoshi panted.

It felt like they had been running forever and he doubted the others could hold out for long when the Nenu woke back up.

“We’re not going down.  We’re going up.”

Hitoshi’s feet planted in place.  He would’ve fallen over from Todoroki’s pulling grip if he hadn’t begun moving again so quickly.

“Up! We’re going the wrong way!”

“No we’re not.”  Todoroki said, calmly.  “Look out the window.”

Window. What window?  Hitoshi was about to force the other boy to stop when light suddenly flooded the place.  The once steep, narrow, dark stairs that had been chiseled roughly into the stone changed and expanded. The space was now airy.  The stairs wide and marbled, the balustrade ornate.  Most disconcerting, they were no longer going down but up, and they hadn’t missed a step or changed direction.

Hitoshi gawked, now thinking that he had gone crazy.

“Remember where we are.  This place is the home of Third’s.  The children of Chaos don’t follow the same rules and order that we do, and neither does their world.”  Todoroki said, eyes ever focused ahead.

Hitoshi looked about in awe.

He was a Third, granted a made one.  But he felt stupid for not knowing these things.  Then again he hadn’t had many dealings with Thirds. And the few encounters that he had, hadn’t exactly been friendly. It wasn’t as if the Were’s that had attacked his home and killed his parents had left a handbook.

He almost snorted at the thought.

If there had been a handbook, Aizawa probably would’ve made him memorize every word, coma, and period. He could almost hear his mentor now.  <em>Word choice and phrasing are often key.  When it comes to the written word, punctuation or lack there of is just as important.</em>

It felt silly to look out the window and confirm what his eyes now saw; but his eyes had told him something completely different just a moment ago.

Hitoshi looked out the window.

“Anna!” The Were’s heart lurched.

He tugged against Todoroki’s hand, mind reeling.  Could she flint to safety from such a height? The Nenu was choking her.  The Nenu’s wings weren’t even moving.  How could he just hover there? They had to help her.

Todoroki pulled Hitoshi along, focused solely on his task. “She’ll either open herself up to the truth and realize what she’s done, or die.”

Hitoshi didn’t understand what the Llaes was saying but none of that mattered.

He pulled harder against Todoroki’s hold.  “We have to help her! Aizawa--”

“Not even Aizawa can help her now.  This is something she has to do and face alone. Either she accepts, or it was all for nothing, and we die.”

“What?”

Todoroki tugged at Hitoshi’s hand.  “All we can do is get to the chamber door and hope for the best.  Come on.”

44.5

Able to see both the room and open air they seemingly floated in, the Nenu chuckled at Reyanna’s demanding question.

He glanced down looking at the fallen Seraphim watching the Daimon battle one of his Aspects.

While the three beast below where him, or more correctly parts of him, it was like multi tasking. His mind and eye could only concentrate on so many things at once, and only one of them well.  The three Aspects below were mostly fighting without thought.  Like breathing, the beasts movements were more autonomic than consciously done. Any changes in their actions could be done; but similar to holding ones breath, it could only be done for so long.

Just the act of being split was draining.  Add to that him keeping Reyanna from seeing both surroundings like the way she saw both of him, and he would tire fairly quickly.  The wounds his Aspects took from those down below, while not yet felt or seen on his main body, did put a direct toil on his system.

Reyanna’s lips curled.  The shadow’s within the room pulled toward her.

“Shouta. Where is h--”

The Nenu was on her quicker than she could see.

His hand wrapped around her throat.

Before she could register the act, let alone respond to it, she was lifted up into the air.

Reyanna clawed at the Nenu’s crushing hand.  Her legs kicked out. Toes pointed, she tried to touch the stone floor in effort to take some of the weight off her strangled trachea.

“Insolent whelp.”  The Nenu’s other hand pressed against her chest, claws digging in right where Toshinori’s blade had pierced and killed her.

Reyanna’s choked gurgle shortened to a harsh staccato. She would’ve cried out in pain if she could get any air through her raw, burning windpipe.  Her eyes widened and squeezed shut.  The best she could manage in this state, without her blade, were futile hits and kicks.

Her power radiated a burning cold that seemed to do nothing to him.

She tried to pull his shadow from him but it barely even twitched in her direction.

“Such a pathetic daughter of Chaos you are.  It burns me to think of you as a sister.”

45.6

Though the beast he and Hizashi were fighting required all of his attention to merely stay alive, Shouta chanced a look up.  What he saw made his blood boil and run cold.

“Anna!”

“Shouta!” Hizashi flinted between the striking beast and his friend.

Shouta's head spun around.

He saw claws tear through Hizashi’s flesh, the raking gouges deep enough to slice through something vital and kill.

“Zashi!”

Hizashi fell back against the Daimon.

“Hang on.”  Shouta flinted them a half mile away, near the top of a steep hill.  “I got you.  Just hang on.”

Shouta reached into his pocket, cursing his sticky blood coated hand that made the fabric cling.

His fingers wrapped around a vial, pocket tearing as he pulled it out.

“Here.” Shouta’s shaking hands fumbled, trying to uncap the bottle.

Hizashi’s hand closed around the Daimon's wrist. “Shou… Don’t.”

“Shut up and save your strength.”

Hizashi smiled weakly and shook his head.  “You need to save that for yourself or Anna, yeah.”

Anna… Shouta's fingers stopped.  He looked up at his Love who was being strangled by the Nenu and willed her to fight.

Why was it that when she needed him most he couldn’t get to her?  He couldn’t loose her again.  He wasn’t even sure if the vial he held was the real deal and would work.

A Phoenix potion.  The most rare and difficult potion a witch could brew.  Such a thing required a laundry list of ingredients, all of them near impossible to find and acquire.  Even then, the cost of making such a potion demanded an incredible cost.  Usually the witch’s life or that of a loved one.

The vial had been bubble wrapped and pushed through the mail slot at Hizashi's penthouse apartment only yesterday.  There had been no note, just two Words, <em>for Aizawa</em>.

Shouta had no idea who had secretly left him such a thing.  Okay he had some idea.  More like an educated guess.  It wasn’t as if he knew very many witches. Certainly not many that could come close to acquiring even a quarter of the needed ingredients.

Still, even if Nighteye could use his affinity’s sight and knew what they would up to, that didn’t explain why  the Witch would give him such a rare and value thing.

“Zashi.” Shouta swallowed, pulling his worried gaze away from Reyanna to look at his friend.

The Angel was right.  He couldn’t use it to save him.  Reyanna might need it.  He couldn’t lose her again.

“It’s alright, Shou.”

“Why?” Shouta demanded with heated fierceness.

Why had Hizashi gotten between him and the beast?  He was the fool who had taken his eyes off of the thing.  He couldn’t even save Reyanna, and now his oldest and only friend was dying because of him.

“You know why.  You’re my friend.  You gave me a chance and stuck with me when no other would.”

Shouta could've scoffed.  As it was, he couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes.  “I was just doing my job.  Logically speaking, you were bound to be good for something.”

Hizashi started to laugh but it quickly turned to coughs of blood.

Shouta grimaced.  He wouldn’t cry.  He wouldn’t shed a single tear. Instead he would stay by the Angels side till he died, find a way to save Reyanna, and lay waste to this place and all the creatures in it.

“Be happy, Shou.  Do right.  Win Anna back.  And be happy, okay.”

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours.  If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know.  It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a great big THANK YOU to those who have left comments or re-blogged.  They really mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230​ for their encouragement and friendship, and help brainstorming.  Your thoughts and our chats mean a lot.

[pckarchives]

because going back and adding these to the previous q & a’s would be a pain ... beneath the cut , you’ll find all of brynn’s information !

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟎.     ›     brunnhilde brynn naoimh friar.

► species ➔ kelpie. ► biological age ➔ 1,803. ► weight ➔ 130 lbs. ► height ➔ 5′9″. ► build ➔ very thin with a bit of muscle! though, fun fact: if she is trying to lure in someone who prefers a bigger or smaller girl, that is what they will see! because kelpie aren’t actually human anyway, her human form only serves to draw others in, so they appear as the most appealing form, according to those around them. she looked a lot bigger when she lived in france and weight was in style, but she’s much thinner these days. she doesn’t understand humans, she doesn’t like this. ► disabilities ➔ none! ► weapon(s) of choice ➔ in an every day situation, her fists! she does not fight often (anymore), but she is very capable of solving those fights via human means. if a battle requires more than that, well... kelpies have no problem dragging someone down to the depths of the sea and eating them. ► skills ➔ see above. in addendum to the dragging someone to the depths of the sea thing, she can trap someone in her arms so they can’t escape her. works best when she’s in water, but she could make it work on land. also, she has a weather-sense! usually only matters when storms are coming, because she can feel when the waters get restless. she can summon a storm herself, but dear gods, the amount of effort that takes. she’s done it once in her near two thousand years of existence and has elected to never do it again. finally, she can actually turn into the horse spirit when she’s underwater. it looks... a little more mermaid-ish than one would think, but it’s a horse, okay. in her horse form, she’s ten times faster and stronger than a normal horse and... y’know, she can drag someone to the bottom of the sea and eat them. notably, if she is shifted on land, she appears like a regular black horse! maybe a little bigger than normal, slightly monstrous snout, but you’d have to look really closely to notice that. ► weaknesses ➔ her bridle. anyone gets their hands on it, they have control over her, which... is extremely terrifying, considering what she can do. so she keeps that thing hidden where no one has a chance of finding it or taking it from her. ► worst habits ➔ unfortunately, she falls in love very easily. after all of this time, she’s still a wide-eyed romantic. she also trusts entirely too easily. you would think she would know better, but? no? ► nervous tics ➔ she plays with seashells! talking to the sea is very much a mermaid thing, yes, but mermaids and kelpies are close relatives, and they all need a bit of water comfort. so when brynn’s feeling a little nervy, she’ll toy with a seashell or pearl, maybe have a quiet and awkward conversation with the nearest sea. ► sexuality ➔ what a silly concept. ► are they single? ➔ at the moment, yes. ► are they happy? ➔ literally always. ► are they angry? ➔ sometimes. really depends on the situation. ► are their parents still married? ➔ she doesn’t have parents! kelpies are independent spirits and they aren’t exactly born the way humans and other beings are. she simply came into existence, exactly the way she is. she’s been “adopted” many times, taken in by loving couples who hated to see such a young thing on her own in the world. but as far as biology goes, she has no parents to speak of. ► happiest memory? ➔ meeting iliana khepri! and, in addition, meeting her sons when they were turned! brynn doesn’t have many friends who’ve lasted throughout the years, as most people eventually die of old age, if nothing else. but having such beautifully-spirited friends who are as eternal as she is is a gift that she can never overlook. ► worst memory? ➔ the moment she, rohan and iliana found elliot the night of his wedding. certainly, there are worse things that she has lived through, long before this child was born, married and broken. but this horror is the freshest and it hurts the most. he had been so excited to tell them of his wedding and he simply wasn’t the same after it all. elliot may be nearly two hundred years old, but he’s still a baby, as far as she’s concerned? and he’s already been hurt in a way that even she’s managed to avoid so far. being there to witness it and being unable to stop it... yeah. she should have eaten that man. ► biggest regret? ➔ trusting a djinn with her bridle. she’d been friends with the woman and had been so certain that it would be the right move. wrong! anyway, brynn ate her. ► best thing they’ve ever done? ➔ saved quite a few travelers and tourists from storms and people with ill-intentions. ate a few dictators. ► worst thing they’ve ever done? ➔ in her “youth,” she ate people indiscriminately. she didn’t quite learn to control herself until she met iliana and had a reason to be kind. so she’s eaten quite a few children, her fair share of families, etc... she’s not proud of it. ► worst thing that’s ever been done to them? ➔ remember that djinn from earlier? yeah, she accused brynn of being a witch... during the witch trials. and given that brynn didn’t have her own bridle, she couldn’t even save herself. and she wasn’t one of the ones who had to drown to prove her innocence; no, that would have bene a mercy. she was burned. do you know what happens when you put a water spirit in flames? ► what scares them the most? ➔ the thought of someone getting their hands on her bridle again. she’s a full romantic, loves and trusts wholeheartedly, but she’s not sure she’ll ever trust that much ever again. ► who have they left behind? ➔ honestly, no one! though she’s been to many places and has met many people, she has rarely gotten attached to people, only to leave them behind. you could say she left iliana, rohan and elliot behind, but even then... not really? she’s kept in contact with them over the years, calling them ever so often to make sure they are doing well. elliot has recently taught her about facetime! ...she does not understand it. ► who would they kill for? ➔ anyone who needs it. this comes with the understanding that not every situation calls for death. some people just need a good curb-stomp and the problem is solved. but if someone truly needed her to kill, then she will do so. ► who has hurt them the most? ➔ the aforementioned djinn. that was a few hundred years ago, so you would think she would be over it? but no! absolutely the worst thing she’s ever experienced! ► who have they hurt the most? ➔ she would be hard pressed to say. she hasn’t hurt anyone she’s cared about. and when considering those that she’s eaten, no one person matters more than the others. ► who scares them the most? ➔ no one. ► if they could say one thing to their family right now, what would it be? ➔ “i have an ipad! ...what do i do with it?” SEVEN FACTS ► ‘birth’ place ➔ the north sea. ► hair color ➔ currently, blonde. it has been a number of colors over the years, due to beauty trends and hair dye. she was born with brown hair, a little lighter than her horse mane, but prefers the blonde. ► eye color ➔ blue. ► birthday ➔ september 30, 216. ► gender ➔ all kelpies are female. ► summer or winter ➔ summer. ► morning or afternoon ➔ morning. EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE ► are they in love? ➔ no. ► do they believe in love at first sight? ➔ absolutely! ► who ended their last relationship? ➔ she did. ► have they ever broken someone’s heart? ➔ yep. ► are they afraid of commitments? ➔ not at all! ► have they hugged someone within the last week? ➔ no, which is a shame. ► have they ever had a secret admirer? ➔ probably? ► have they ever broken their own heart? ➔ yes. SIX CHOICES ► love or lust ➔ love. ► lemonade or iced tea ➔ lemonade. ► cats or dogs ➔ dogs! ► a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ depends? with a life like hers, she needs both. ► wild night out or romantic night in ➔ romantic night in. ► day or night ➔ day. FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS ► been caught sneaking out? ➔ no. ► fallen down/up the stairs ➔ yes. ► wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ yes. ► wanted to disappear? ➔ no. FAMILY ► do they and their family get along?  ➔ she doesn’t have a family! ► would they say they have a “messed up life”? ➔ no. ► have they ever ran away from home? ➔ yes. ► have they ever gotten kicked out? ➔ no. FRIENDS ► do they secretly hate one of their friends? ➔ no! ► do they consider all of their friends good friends? ➔ yes! ► who is their best friend? ➔ iliana khepri. ► who knows everything about them? ➔ see above, plus rohan laghari and elliot aldridge. ► pack mate they’re closest to? ➔ prediction-wise, she’ll get close to theo, megan, alicia and nico, so as to help them not eat people, but especially theo and megan. (brynn shows up and adopts two cannibal kids on sight... as she should!) also kali, on account of her living with the vampires and being rohan’s baby sister. but of course, she will always be closest to iliana and her boys. ► pack mate they’ve fought the most? ➔ she is not a fighter! ► if forced to choose between their life and that of their closest pack mate, who would they save? ➔ martyrdom leaves no winners. she and iliana have always saved themselves and she doesn’t see why that would change.

► hobbies ➔ professionally, she’s a marine archeologist, but that started out as a hobby, as well! other than that, she likes taking dives and swimming with dolphins, whales and sharks. make no mistake, she is not the apex predator in that situation. but kelpies are repulsive to sea creatures, so as to prevent them from being eaten. so swimming with them is always safe, thankfully. and though she will not admit it under extreme torture, she does like roaming around in her horse form. she’s given quite a few horseback rides to children, because their happiness is all she could ever ask for. ► social media handles ➔ social what now? ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. it’s a good day if she can figure out how to put a number in her contacts as it is, no need to get creative. ► favorite color ➔ sea blue. ► favorite video game ➔ she has tried video games before and just cannot understand them. every time someone mentions a new one, it’s a different console? the controller has a new design? how does anyone keep up? ► favorite song ➔ modern love by david bowie. ► favorite scent ➔ incense! ► favorite band/artist ➔ julie d'aubigny was one of a kind. ► favorite place to be ➔ not to be cliché, but... the beach. the sand, the ocean, the rocks... she lives for that kinda vibe. ► favorite season ➔ summer! she can get into the water as much as she wants without people looking at her strange. ► favorite word ➔ alacrity. ► favorite meme ➔ i pretend i do not see it. (elliot taught her this one and he’s very proud of her for remembering it.) ► if they were an animal ➔ i... horse. ► if they were a color ➔ blue, in all of its forms. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ literally any of those tiktoks with the audio that goes: fuck, i.. i... i love you ! no, that’s too soon, you met this girl this afternoon ! okay, FUCK. she’s looking scared, maybe, like, should’ve came prepared with a poem, a haiku, maybe a hug, y’know ––– i could’ve killed you & hidden you with a rug, WHAT THE FUCK ? did you just say that, you fucking psychotic maniac –––– ?! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ blank space. ► aesthetic ➔ blood-stained seashells, clam shells pried open with shaking hands, blonde hair tied back into a peppy ponytail, blonde then red then pink then ombre but never brown never again, the ocean lapping at pale feet, calling the lost souls back home. ► motto ➔ “this isn’t the first ending i’ve survived and it won’t be the last.” ► theme song ➔ in for the kill by la roux.

► medical issues ➔ none. ► knows far too much about ➔ worldwide theologies. she doesn’t subscribe to any particular religion herself, but she has always been fascinated by the existence of higher beings, so she chooses to believe in all of them! ► fears death via ➔ fire. ► chances of being “evil” ➔ eh, pretty slim. she’s malevolent by nature, but has no interest in going all dark side again. she’s been there and she’s not impressed!

[sometimesrosy]

Dream of Love ch 3: Silly Lovebird

rosymamacita

Read on AO3: Chapter 3

It's just the girls. Drinking their drinks and gossiping. Harper seems to be a bit obsessed with love, but it's her wedding, so she's allowed. And then she turns her attention to Clarke. And Bellamy. And then all the girls do.

Notes:

girl bonding. we never get girl bonding. there are fancy drinks, pedicures, aioli, and discussions of old sweethearts.

Clarke closed the door to her cabana and fell onto her bed. She put a hand to her chest to try to hold on to her racing heart. “Calm down,” she muttered to herself.

Things like this didn’t happen. This couldn’t possibly be real. The boy she’d fallen for in high school when she was young and naive couldn’t POSSIBLY be this gorgeous and hot and as nice as he seemed.

No. That was not the way life worked. Certainly not the way HER life worked. Not since she was a kid. Not since she’d left Arcadia.

Her mother had called her home to California and she’d struggled to get her feet back under her. She just barely managed to keep her grades high enough and scores impressive enough to get into a decent college. And she struggled with her course work, not that anyone could tell. She always did just enough to get the grades. Until…until…until the thing with her girlfriend went south. Until premed was too much. Until her mom got remarried. Until her apartment got condemned for mudslide damage. Until she couldn’t hold on to it all anymore and she just collapsed.

She spent a year, maybe, never leaving the house. She lost contact with everyone back in Arcadia, even her cousin. Definitely Bellamy, because she couldn’t face what a mess she was. But slowly. Slowly, she got her feet back under her.

Nine years after her life fell apart, here she was. A licensed art therapist, with a newly adopted daughter, back in the town where she had been happiest. She had been willing to start all over again. And she hadn’t even had the chance to catch her breath before Harper had made her come to her wedding to reacquaint herself with her old friends. And THEN she’d enlisted her mom, who had paid for flight and hotel, because she wanted Clarke to be better. To be happy. So Clarke had to come.

But with Harper’s pointed hints and matchmaking she had tried not to get herself excited, because that was not how her life worked out, “Did you know Bellamy is single still?” Harper had told her as soon as she had gotten the truck unloaded at her new apartment. “You used to be such good friends. He’s a teacher and one of my best friends and he’ll be at my wedding solo. So you have to come so he doesn’t feel like a loser, because his ex girlfriend is bringing a date and the party is too small for him to hide out in.”

“Are you trying to set me up with Bellamy Blake?” she’d asked, to embarrass her.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Harper was not embarrassed. “I want you to hook up with Bellamy.”

“Harper! Who do you think I am?”

“I think you’re a woman who needs to have a good time. And Bellamy is a great guy. And you like each other.”

“We haven’t seen each other in ten years. I’m sure that’s not going to happen. I’ll make you a deal, though. I’ll come and I’ll hang out with him, but I make no promises.”

Because. Of course.

And then he was there. Right off the plane squinting up at her. The wind ruffling his black hair. The sun glinting off of his skin with a bronze sheen. And that wide bright smile, and Clarke had lost her breath.

She’d stood at the top of the stairs and the want had washed over her. She wanted him. She wanted everything about him. She wanted those amazing arms around her. She wanted his lips on hers. She wanted him to keep smiling at her. She wanted to tell him all about the ten years he hadn’t been there and she wanted him to tell her it would be okay because now he was here.

And because this was an island in the middle of nowhere and the air smelled like flowers and caressed her skin. Because this boy from her past was standing there staring at her and she wanted to get to do her life all over again. Because this was not real life. Because it was a dream. And if not a dream, then dream like. Because of all of that she came up to him and she threw herself into his arms.

She was home.

****

This was the strangest wedding she’d ever been to.

There was absolutely no fuss. It was almost like it wasn’t a wedding at all. There were no designated colors, or seating charts or rehearsals or favors. Harper had a wedding dress, but it was something she’d gotten off the rack, just a simple white slip dress and she had some silver sandals that she said made her feel like a sea goddess, and a necklace made of semi precious stones. But otherwise, Clarke wasn’t actually sure she’d ever been to an event this easy going and…well… relaxing as this.

Harper was completely the opposite of a bridezilla and she just didn’t care about any of it. She didn’t even care about getting married. It was a vacation with her favorite people as far as she was concerned. She was doing it for Monty, who wanted to make them legal and official and all of that. She just shrugged and threw her feet over the edge of the lounge chair on the patio, so Echo could paint her toenails green.

“Green,” she said. “Get it? Green.” Then she laughed hysterically and drank another of those fruity cocktails she’d been sipping on since Clarke had gotten there.

“Yes, baby,” Echo said, rolling her eyes and smirking slightly. “We know you love The Green.”

She sighed. “I do. I’d do anything for him.”

“Even get married to him when you think marriage is an outdated and parochial institution that is inherently misogynistic and materialist in nature?” Raven handed her an egg roll to soak up some of the alcohol.

“Even get married because marriage is a out-dait-ed and… what was the rest of that?”

They all started laughing.

Clarke leaned over and took the fancy drink out of Harper’s hand. “We’d better get you to slow down so you can last all day. We still have the barbecue later tonight, and you do not want to be passed out for that.”

Harper pouted but let her take it. “Hey,” she said, with a hand on Clarke’s arm. “Hey. Love is beautiful, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled fondly at her. She had missed her. “I know. I’m really happy for you and Monty.”

“No,” Harper shook her head and blinked slowly before letting go and leaning back in the lounge chair. Echo grabbed her foot and resumed painting her toes. Emori gave her a bottle of water. “No. I mean Looo-oove.”

“I know, Harper. I can’t wait to see your wedding. I’m really so glad you’ve found love.”

“No, ugh,” she said and took a swig of water. “Tell her Emori. Tell her about how much you love Murphy.”

“Ha ha, Harper. I think you picked the wrong person to extoll the praises of love,” Raven teased. “She wants to kill Murphy all the time.”

Emori sat straight. “No I don’t. I love him. I wish I didn’t love him so much, sometimes. It’s hard because he’s been through a lot and I am stubborn and…”

“And loving him makes it BETter, right Emori?”

Emori sighed and then slumped back and drank her fancy drink. “I wish it didn’t but it does. Sometimes I just want to BE with him because it makes me feel better, even when I’m angry at him.”

Harper waved her hands in the air. “See? I was right. Raven. Tell Clarke how beautiful love is. Tell her how much you love Shaw and he makes your life bet—ter. TELL HER.”

“Uh….” Raven blushed dark. “We’re not there yet, Harper.”

“Liar. You LOVE him. I know you do. I can see it.”

Raven shrugged and looked away. Clarke gave her Harper’s drink. She needed it more. Raven looked at her thankfully and took a big sip. “Oh wow, this is SO good Harper.”

Harper made a sound like she was gagging. “Raven is pretending she’s not in love with her boyfriend. ECHO. ECHO, baby doll, tell Clarke about how awesome it is to love that big hunk of beefcake you’ve got. Woo! Did you see his abs? Hubba hubba.”

Echo merely laughed. “Oh no, you silly love bird. You’re not going to get me. I am not in love with Roan. And I am not going to be in love with Roan. But I like him a whole helluva a lot and he is GREAT in bed. I’m having fun with a good friend and we enjoy our mutual hotness, abs included.” Echo raised her halter top to point out her own.

“Oooh!” Harper reached out a hand to touch. “Nice! Look at mine.” Harper also raised her top to show a truly enviable set of abs. “Everyone show your abs.”

Raven was still sucking on her drink, her face glowing from the love discussion so she was eager to also raise her shirt and show some amazing abs. Emori pulled up a corner of her shirt to show quite the flat tummy too.

Clarke laughed. “Yeah. Okay. I don’t have abs. I can’t compare to you all.”

“I don’t believe you! Let me see. I’m the bride. You have to show me. Bridezilla. Grr. SHOW ME THE ABS.”

Clarke sighed heavily. “Fine. But if you people think I’m going to join your ‘awesome abs workout club’ just because I’m moving to town, you have another thing coming. I think I’ll stay how I am, pleasantly rounded.” She raised her top and caught the waitresses attention. “One of those fruity things please? With the lantern.”

Emori added to Clarke’s order, “And some appetizers. Uhm. Sweet potato fries? And the garlic bread. Our girl here needs some food with her booze.”

But while they were busy ordering, Harper was busy flopping over in her lounge chair again. “Oooh. Pretty. Oh my god.” Harper ran her hands over Clarke’s less than defined stomach. “She’s so soft!” She turned to look at Echo who was struggling to get the enamel on Harper’s toes. “Oh my god. She’s so sexy, with all those curves. Wow. That’s something to grab onto.” Harper clenched her fingers on Clarkes hips.

“Hot mama,” Emori wiggled her eyebrows at Clarke.

“Not to mention that fantastic rack,” Raven said, quite glad to get the attention on someone else. “Clarke has us all beat in the boob department. I don’t think there’s a man and not a few of the women on this island that wasn’t eyeing her cleavage when she came out in that top.”

“Okay. I’m feeling objectified, here,” Clark pulled her shirt back into place and yeah, it definitely showed off her boobs and yeah, she might have worn it on purpose, thinking momentarily of Bellamy, who had gone off with the boys to do something or other, to her mild disappointment.

“Oh would you sit still!” Echo snapped, grabbing Harper’s ankle. “Hey! Harper. Harper!” She snapped her fingers until Harper swerved back around. “Hey, you know what? Clarke thinks she can’t compare to the rest of the girls, but I have it on good authority that she’s the one that is the first choice for some people.”

“RealLLLly?” Harper singsonged, leaning her elbow on the chaise arm. “Do tell us more.”

“Well,” Echo said, her fingers tight on Harper’s ankle, words slow and hands fast with the brush. “You know how Bellamy and I dated for a year?”

Clarke froze.

“Yes! You were in love too. Tell Clarke how beautiful love is. Bellamy is just the best boyfriend, right? I mean, except for my Monty, but Bellamy is Bellamy, you know?”

“Hmmm,” Echo said, finishing the one foot and grabbing the other. “Well, Bellamy is an amazing boyfriend, but I was in love with him, and he loved me, but he wasn’t IN love with me. He couldn’t be.”

“He couldn’t?” Harper asked, eyes blinking. “Why not?” Clarke blessed her cousin for being drunk and asking prying questions.

“Because he fell in love with someone a long time ago who no one else could ever compare to.”

“He did? Who?”

Echo painted her last toe and then reached for the first foot. Coat number two. “Well who do you think, silly love bird?” Without even looking up, Echo nodded her head toward Clarke. “Her.”

Harper gasped and tried to turn towards Clarke but Echo’s hold was firm. The girl was strong. Harper settled for reaching out with one hand and grabbing her thigh. “Ooh. She’s so juicy. God. Has Bellamy ever grabbed this thigh? That might do it.”

“No!” Clarke said, but Harper was already turning back to Echo.

“Tell us MORE!”

“If you sit still and let me finish both feet.”

Harper nodded eagerly up at Echo. “What happened?”

“Well, I don’t know what happened back then with them, but it took me a while to figure it out. Months really, as I fell for him and he was so kind and sweet and did everything right, and still… there was always something holding him back. I even asked him if there was someone else who he was in love with, and he said no, there was no one else just me. I knew he wasn’t lying, and yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that even when he said he loved me, there was still someone he loved best. And one night, he confessed that he had been in love once before, but she’d left a long long time ago and it was something that could never be. And that’s when I knew. He was still in love with the girl he had lost.”

“Was that what ended things between you two?” Emori asked, as if she’d always wanted to know.

Echo shook her head. “He was committed to me and I was in love with him, and he treated me so well and we had so much fun together, so I stuck it out, thinking he would fall for me, too.”

“He didn’t, did he?” Raven asked, her smile crooked.

“Nope. And I don’t know, stepping back that distance, knowing that he loved someone more, even someone who he’d never see again, it kind of made me fall a little bit OUT of love with him? Like, it wasn’t enough anymore. And then I started wondering if it was just his face and the way he cares for everyone and how smart and passionate… and how much I thought he SHOULD be the man I was in love with and maybe I just really LIKED him? And I really WANTED to be in love.” She sighed and shook her head. “I still love him. He’s the best guy in the world, but he’s not my guy and we don’t actually fit together right. He’s an idealist, and I’m… not. But I didn’t put two and two together until we met Bellamy at the airport and I saw the way he couldn’t stop looking at Clarke, except for when he was trying not to look at her. And how she ran into his arms to hug him and then she wouldn’t let him go.”

Harper gasped. “She did! Oh how romantic.”

Clarke remembered. She had wanted to never let him go.

“She totally did. And he didn’t want to let go, either. After months of trying to find signs of love in Bellamy, I finally found them. Right here. She’s the woman he’s been in love with for ten years. She’s the one he compares all the others to.” She dropped Harper’s ankle. “DONE! Now don’t run around and mess those up!”

“But wait!” Harper said. “Now you don’t have love…” her eyes started to brim with tears. “You don’t love Bellamy and you don’t love Roan…”

“It’s okay silly love bird,” she wrapped an arm around Harper and drew her in. “We’re in the same place and that place is a great place to be. I’m not going to fall in love again unless it’s right. I think with Bellamy I was just in love with the idea of love. It’s not like you and Monty. You two are a natural pair. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates.” Harper nodded, wiping the tears away and smiling again. “Just like Clarke and Bellamy.”

“W-wait,” Clarke stuttered, still reeling. “We’re not soulmates. I haven’t seen him in ten years.”

“When you’re soulmates it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been apart. You will always fall back together. Oooh! Garlic Bread!”

The waitress came and set the appetizers and Clarke’s drink down on the table. Clarke grabbed it and sucked down a good half of it. Everyone ate and checked out Harper’s toes and she thought that was the last of it, thank god, because she could not get her heart to calm down.

“So you’re in love with Bellamy.” Harper pointed a sweet potato fry at Clarke. The aioli dripped off and splatted on the table. Clarke took a napkin and wiped it up, avoiding her eyes.

“I haven’t seen him in ten years.”

“Mm. Yeah. You said that already. But he’s in love with you.” Raven was a lot less drunk than Harper. She was laser focused on Clarke. Shit.

She folded the napkin and wiped the table again, shaking her head. “We were just friends. It was high school. I only knew him for a year before my mom called me home anyway.”

Emori grinned and stuck a sweet potato fry in her mouth. “You didn’t say you didn’t love him.”

Clarke gaped. Then she blinked. Then she sucked on her drink.

“I remember you in high school, Clarke.” Raven was shaking her head, not buying it. “You and Bellamy were friends, but you were never ‘just’ friends. The two of you were something else, always arguing but always the first person to defend the other. You were inseparable. Wait. Did something happen between you?”

Clarke felt the heat rise in her chest, up her neck and into her face. She took a drink.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing. Did something happen?”

Clarke swallowed. “We kissed. Once. When he came to say good bye to me, before I left for the airport. I cried the whole flight. My heart was broken.”

“You KISSED Bellamy? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Harper asked, clutching her hand to her heart.

“Because it was just once, and I never talked to him again.”

“But WHY, Clarke. Why didn’t you talk to him?”

“Because it hurt too much? Because I was a wreck? Because I figured I was being… I don’t know. Silly.”

Echo shook her head sadly. “I don’t think you were alone in that.”

Clarke opened her mouth but was unable to speak.

“You were in love with him,” Harper said, wide eyed.

“And he was in love with you.” Emori held onto Harper’s hand.

Raven leaned forward and pointed a sharp finger at her. “And you both still are.”

[one-direction-fan-fiction]

Chapter 7

(Harry POV)

i wake up the early next morning after the big dinner with Jess’s father and i am completely mentally drained. but it’s back to the studio today to work on some new music. i didn’t tell the guys about the dinner because i knew it would only make me more nervous then i already was. but i know i can’t keep anything from them for long...

i make it to the studio before the rest of the guys. sitting there alone in the studio i just run over all the events of last night through my head trying to figure out what i’m going to tell the boys. all the guys seem to arrive at the same time their faces lighting up when they see me sitting in the middle of the room with a guitar on my knee and a note pad laid out in front of me scribbles all across the yellow page. “hey, mates what took you so long?” i say cheerfully. “what on earth are you doing here so early?” Zayn asks. “wasn’t able to sleep... too much excitement last night.” they all look at me curiously. “big night with Jess?” Liam asks mockingly. “yes, but not the way you think you dirty minded fuckers.” i chuckle. “okay, if not that, then what?” Louis asks. “um, dinner with Jess... and her father.” they all look at me stunned. like i just told them the world was ending or something. “damn! how did that go?” Niall asks still a hint of surprise lasing his voice. i run through every event of last night telling them every detail and by the end of my story Niall had taken what i was writing before and finished it. he calls it “Last First Kiss”.

(Jess POV)

i have to say last night went better then i could have possibly imagined. my dad seems to truly like Harry and that’s surprising because my father always said ‘you’re not allowed to date until you’re 35.” which i never actually took seriously.

just as i’m getting out of bed there is a knock at the door. i open the door to reveal a smiling Ella. “morning, Jess! there’s someone here to see you.” my heart jumps. what if he found me. those pictures of me and Harry on our date just last week must be all over the internet by now. i’ve been trying to avoid social media since that night because i didn’t want to see what people where saying about me. though they probably don’t even know my name. Ella leaves me alone to get dressed. i take my time, my heart beating hard against my chest as the thought of seeing him again races around in my brain.

i stand in front of my bedroom door staring at it, memorizing it like it’s the last thing i may ever see. but, eventually i build up enough courage to open the door and walk down the stairs into the dinning room where everyone. my host family, my father and... “Elana?” the chatter stops and the all too familiar face turns to me lighting up when she sees my face. “Jess!!!” she squeals jumping up from the chair she was sitting in running over to wrap me in her arms. “what are you doing here?” i say now smiling back at her. “i live here in London! i saw those photos of you and Harry Styles downtown so i called your mother and she gave me the address.” she explains. “i’m so happy to see you! what has it been? 3 years.” then this time i hug her... and i never want to let her go again.

Elana has been my best friend since i was 3 years old up until her family up and moved to the UK 3 years ago. sure we kept in touch texting, calling, FaceTimeing but it wasn’t the same. i honestly thought i would never see her again.

we spend the rest of the morning talking and catching up about the pst 3 years. she asks everything about Harry but her main question is “are you happy?” and i almost start crying because i’ve honestly never been happier in my life! when it’s finally time for her to go back home she gives me her address so i can visit her and her parents (they are like second parents to me) before i go back.

everyone has cleared out and gone to bed... and i’m about to do the same when there is a knock on the door. i open it thinking it’s probably Elana forgetting something like usual. but instead i come face to face with the one person i NEVER wanted to see again... “Jay.” i say under my breath. a twisted happy smile creeps across his face but before he can say anything i instinctively slam the door in his face and run as fast as i can up to my room locking the door so he can’t get to me.

without even think about it i pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Harry almost like i’m on autopilot. it’s just habit i guess. since i met him (even before we started dating) he’s the one i would call when i felt anything or had something i wanted to talk about. he’s not just my boyfriends... he’s my best friend.

(Harry POV)

after a long day in the studio the guys and i are just packing up to go home when i get a call from Jess. i smile happy to hear from her. little did i know “Hey! i’ve been thinking about you all day. last night was really great don’t you think? i think your dad liked me.” i pause for her to answer but there’s just silence. “Jess?” i ask getting a little worried. then comes sniffles from the other end of the line. “... Harry.” i hear a weak painful voice coming from the other end of the phone. “Jess, what’s wrong?” i ask her looking up to see the guys looking up from whatever they where doing to see what was going on. concerned looks on all their faces. “he found me— he- he found me. god, what am i going to do? i— i’m so scared Harry.” my face just drops the tone of her voice draining all the energy from my body forcing me to fall back into the big armchair behind me. “who? who found you? are you in danger? what can i do?” i just keep asking questions not sure how else to help her. the guys all crowd around me looks of full terror on their faces now. “i— i just need you. can you... can you please just come over? i don’t want to be alone.” without another thought i spring to my feet grabbing my things and heading towards the door “i’ll be there in 15 minutes.” i hang up the phone but before i can actually leave the room there is a tight grip on my arm pulling me back. “WHAT?” i snap. “what’s going on mate? you’re freaking us out!” Louis says eyes wide at my hostel reaction. “sorry, i just need to get to Jess! somethings wrong and i need to be there for her. i’ll tell you more when i can but right now i just need to get to her.” i explain quickly pulling away from Louis’ grip and basically sprinting out the door.

(Jess POV)

i just sit in a ball on the floor of my bedroom just waiting for Harry to get here. when i hear his knock on the door i know i have to move so i can let him in... but i can’t move. but thankfully he has the good sense to just come in anyways and only seconds later he’s standing in front of me in my bedroom. “Jess?” he says as he walks ove crouching down in front of where i’m balled up on the floor. “what’s going on? you’ve got me really scared.” i take i deep shaky breath trying to calm down enough to actually speak. “is he gone? did you see him?” is the first thing i say. “no, no i didn’t see anybody. why? is someone threatening you?” i look up at him my cheeks stained from my fallen tears. “there’s something i need to tell you. but before i do i need you to promise me something.” he just nods at me to continue. “i need you to promise me that no matter what i tell you tonight... you’ll still look at me the way you looked at me before.” a small smile streatches across his lips. “i promise. there is nothing you could ever tell me that would make me feel any different about you. okay?” i nod back at him talking another deep breath.

“okay, so about two years ago i was dating this guy. it was a classic shy girl falls for bad boy thing. i just didn’t realize how bad he really was. after six mounts together he had gone way over the line and had robbed a gas station. he got caught and was sent to prison for 1 year. while he was in there i just couldn’t take it anymore. he had crossed a line that he couldn’t come back from... so i ended it.” i pause taking yet another deal breath to prepare myself for what i have to say next. “and about six mounts ago he got out. the first thing he did was track me down because he was pissed that i left him.” i stop again tears welling up in my eyes at the memory. “he blind sided me one day after school. pulling me into some abandoned wearhouse with no one around for miles. the next thing i know he’s screaming at me pushing me to the ground and beating the crap out of me. i called out for help... but no one was around to hear it.” i can’t even look him in the eyes knowing that what comes next might change everything. “once i was weak and powerless on the ground he stood over me bent down and physically ripped my cloths off my bruised, bleeding body... he raped me... and there was nothing i could do to stop it. and now he’s back. he just showed up at my front door.” the room falls into complete silence. i can’t even bring myself to look at Harry i’m so embarrassed.

(Harry POV)

as i sit there listening to the horrific things that had happened to her i can feel myself getting angrier and angrier just knowing that someone out there had hurt her like that. i’m just speechless i don’t even know what to say. i don’t know what i can say. nothing will erase what happened to her. “WHY ISNT THIS ASSHOLE IN PRISON?!?!” i practically yell i’m so angry. “because... as i was laying there in a hospital bed with a broken arm, cracked ribs, internal bleeping in my stomach and brain, and bruises all across my body i- i was embarrassed. so i didn’t tell anyone. i just stayed there as a Jane Doe until all the visible injuries had healed. you’re the first person i’ve told.” she explains. it doesn’t make any sense to me! “well, now that he’s here we need to go to the police!!” i say all ready to go. but she pulls me back. “no! i can’t he’ll kill me. plus i need to tell my dad first. but right now i just really need some sleep. can you stay with me?” i can’t help but agree.

“fine, but i’m staying on the floor. don’t need your dad hating me. i’ll go find a blanket and pillow and i’ll set up on the floor next to your bed.” i explain to her. she nods forcing a tight smile.

i come back and set up my ‘bed’ leaving the door open so that nobody thinks anything weird happened or something. i tuck Jess into bed kissing her on the forehead before cozying into my floor bed. “goodnight.” i whisper as i drift off into a restless sleep.

[looselucy]

May

It was my bed. That was all that mattered to me, really. I didn’t really know the house, and I didn’t know the room, but it was my bed and that was all I could ask for. That was all I wanted, really.

I tucked up under the sheets, staring at my collection of books that had also made the journey from my old house to my new one, wondering which one I should read for the millionth time, if I even had the energy to read at all. There was a small knock on my bedroom door, and I figured it was Liam coming to say goodnight, when my mum gently cracked the door open, and poked her head in to see me. “Mum!” I bolted upright. “Holy fuck, mum!” She ran over to me, sitting down on my bed and grabbing hold of me, taking me into the strongest hug she could. She was shaking straight away, and I knew she was crying, but so was I. Obviously I had inherited that from somewhere, and neither of my parents were good at holding in their emotions. “You shouldn’t swear, Pippa.” She sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” I wept into her hair. “I’m so sorry I’ve not been here. I’m so sorry. I’m the worst daughter ever and I know that. But it was so hard. It’s been so hard. And I know it’s been even worse for you but I just didn’t know how to face it and I hate myself and I’m so sorry.” I had broken down about it much quicker than I thought I would. I knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable, but it had just overcome me as soon as I saw her. She hushed me, and I felt like a child again. It was like I had fallen over and scraped my knee, and my mother was there trying to calm me down and tell me everything would be okay. But when I was younger, all she had to do was get me a Mr Bump plaster, and everything magically felt better. I didn’t think there was a plaster for this kind of pain. She left the hug, but held her face close to mine, wiping away my tears and shaking her head. “You’re not the worst daughter ever.” She tutted. “We’re just all dealing with this differently. And I know you’re hurt, and I’m so sorry. I never thought we would put you through this.” “You don’t have to be sorry!” I whelped. “The only person who needs to be sorry here is the one person who hasn’t even spoken to me.” She was choking on her words, desperate to hold it together, but not finding it too easy. It killed me seeing her like that. If there was one thing I knew about my mother, it was that she wasn’t weak. She was strong and beautiful, radiant and powerful. Seeing her seem so broken, was enough to split my heart in two. “I guess that’s just his way of dealing with it.” She tried to defend him. I knew she would. Just because they were filing for divorce, didn’t mean she didn’t still love him. This had all happened so suddenly. She was still completely in love with him, I knew that, but he didn’t feel the same way. “How’ve you been?” I asked quietly, calming slightly. “I’m okay.” She shrugged. “Still trying to get used to everything, but, I’m okay. Divorce procedures are not fun though.” We were both calming one another. The less I cried, the less she cried, and vice-versa. Neither of us were feeling too incredible, but we were toning it down slightly, and it was better that way. “I bet.” I gulped. “What’s going on there?” “Well, he’s staying with his new woman, who used to be a friend of mine-” “WHO?” I barked. “It doesn’t matter, sweetie. So since he’s doing that, I’m trying to get our old house back, and that’s looking good so far. It seems likely I will.” “That’s good.” I smiled. “Yeah. I think Liam will probably stay renting this place on his own, but I’m ready to go home.” I had been hoping she saw this new place as home, but it must have been difficult for her. It wasn’t right. Our things looked irregular in this new place, they didn’t suit the building. It must have been hard trying to think of a building you were renting, as home. They had paid off the mortgage for their old house a couple of years earlier. That was her home. It was supposed to be that way until she was old and withered, her husband alongside her. I guess things don’t always work out. “What about me and Liam?” I pouted. “What about you and Liam?” She asked. “Don’t you have to like, fight to be our legal guardian, or something?” “No.” She shook her head. “You two are old enough to make your own decisions. We thankfully don’t have to fight for custody.” “Oh. Not sure he’d fight for us anyway.” That was something my mum couldn’t argue against. She couldn’t stick up for him when it came to that, because we all knew he wouldn’t. Not talking to me might have been his way of dealing with things, but it didn’t sit well with me. To not have even had a text. “Who needs him anyway?” She faked a laugh. “You know we’d always pick you, right?” I didn’t mean to set her off, but I did. She burst into tears. I had been trying to comfort her, but that was such a stupid thing for me to say. She didn’t want it to be a competition. She had never wanted us to have to pick between the two of them at all. It was then that I realised that another thing I had inherited from my mum, was an ability, or a need at least, to hide from our feelings. To sweep things under a rug and pretend they weren’t there. She knew it would be a case of picking, and she knew we would pick her over him any day. She just didn’t like to admit it. The only thing worse than admitting your feelings to yourself, is having someone else tell you exactly how you’re feeling. I stared at her tears, and the way she flapped her hands over her eyes, trying to cool down and compose herself. “God, I’m sorry. I’m such a mess.” She flustered. “You’re not a mess.” I lightly hit her arm. “You’re amazing. You inspire me, y’know?” “Don’t be silly.” “I’m not being silly, mum!” I cried. “You’re doing so well and you’re so strong. You’re doing amazing. I promise. Don’t put yourself down.” I never wanted to feel the pain she was feeling. I had been beating myself up for weeks about the way I was feeling towards Harry. Putting myself down. Feeling like such an idiot, letting it all get on top of me and make me feel so terribly about myself. What did it mean, really? It meant nothing. The pain I felt from my inappropriate crush on Harry was absolutely nothing. I could deal with that. Even if it did tug at my heart in the worst possible way, even when he kissed me, it could never even compare to the heartache I was witnessing right in front of me. It’s unhealthy, to compare your problems to other peoples. Just because someone is going through worse should never discredit how you feel, it should never make you feel selfish or unworthy. But sometimes, it does help you put things into perspective. So I cuddled my mum again, not feeling too stupid about how down I had been, just aware that I knew people going through worse, and I had to be strong for them. + + + I woke up alone. I slept in until 11am, when my alarm went off, because otherwise I would have slept in a lot later than that. I was confused when I woke up. It wasn’t my uni room, and it wasn’t my room-room. It was just some random room. But it all came back to me with a thud to the chest pretty quickly. However, that was easy enough to get over. Me and my mum ended up talking for hours the evening previous, and we both came out the other end feeling a million times better about our situation. Turns out, she was just as happy as I was, that I was away from everything. She also spoke about how it was better to be alone, and working on herself, than in a relationship that was built on lies, with a man who didn’t truly love her. She was impossibly courageous. I sprung out of bed, excited about the prospect of actually having a full fridge for a change. My plan was to make a sandwich with basically everything on it. I bounded out of my room, happy at first, until I realised just how alone I was. It was bizarre. Completely. Since September, no matter what anyone’s schedules were, whenever I woke up, there was a 99% percent chance that there would be at least one other person there to have as company. Liam was at work, and so was my mum. I literally hadn’t felt so alone in months. “Well... Shit.” I spoke to myself, looking around. I was waiting for some kind of noise. For Mike to jump out of the door across the hall, yelling about something or other and kissing my cheek and cracking a joke. I genuinely missed him already. Less than 24 hours, and I was craving the company of Mike Jones. I needed to pull myself together. I shook off the feeling, and ran down the stairs, but as soon as I was in the kitchen at the back of the house, instead of making food, I unlocked my phone to text Katie and make some plans, since I hadn’t seen her since New Year’s Day. But before I could do that, I was greeted with a text from Harry. My stomach flipped… That stupid old thing. Harold: Ben and Kev were very disappointed when I turned up without you yesterday. Seems I’m not good enough. I must have read that text about 20 times before I finally thought up a reply. I was actually nervous. It was utterly ridiculous. I lived with the guy, I was going to live with him for at least another year. I had spent time alone with him on numerous occasions, and I was nervous about a god damn text? Pathetic. But I had never text him before. Literally. I was always with the boy, so why would I need to text him? We had only exchanged numbers a couple of days beforehand. My hands were literally shaking as I replied, my Harry dry spell already soaking. Me: I thought they might be, to be honest. I tend to stir that reaction in people. I’m very easy to miss. Harold: That’s strange because I definitely don’t miss you. Life has been much easier for the past 21 hours. Even the fact he had calculated that it had been 21 hours since we last saw one another, made me flutter and fluster. It wasn’t hard to figure out. It wasn’t like he had sat and calculated it. It wasn’t like he was watching the clocks click by, counting down the days and the hours until we were reunited, but I swear to god I reacted like he was. I was blushing. I’ll never understand why. I truly despised myself sometimes. So I decided to make a joke of it. Me: Counting down the hours, I see? Miss me THAT much? How many hours until we’re together again? Harold: Not enough. I giggled, but decided not to text him back. For my own bloody health. I made a sandwich quickly, consisting of mayonnaise, lettuce, tomatoes, red onions and ham. It was literally the best thing I had tasted in months. There was a high possibility that was down to the fact it was the first bit of food I hadn’t paid for in months, but regardless, it was delicious. I went a sunk into the sofa, flicking on the TV and taking a bite before I rang Katie, in a state of awe thanks to my sandwich making skills. “PIPPA! ARE YOU HOME SAFE AND SOUND?” She yelled as soon as she answered. “I AM INDEED!” “YESSSS BABE YESSSSS!” She cheered. “So what’s the plan? Sophia’s about. ALSO, Jamie and Matt are around too.” The four of them were my closest friends from home, and we were finally all back in the same place. Katie, Sophia, Jamie and myself were all at uni, whereas Matt was still trying to figure out his life, and trying to get a job. I was looking forward to catching up with them all again. “Good! So what’s the plan?” I asked. “Well, I’m busy having family time this afternoon. Snore, I know, but it’s whatever. So I think the plan is for us all to get really drunk tonight. You in?” We had made a pact with each other, that whilst we were away we would stay in touch quite lightly, so we had plenty to catch up on once we were back. Which meant that Katie didn’t know about my mum and dad. She didn’t know how much ‘family time’ sounded like an absolute dream to me, but it was something I wouldn’t really experience again. I was so jealous. “Um, sure. Look, can we meet a little earlier? Before we go meet everyone? I just... a lot’s happened and I need a catch-up with you. Is that okay?” “Of course. Anytime. I’ll meet you at The Bull at seven, okay?” “Yeah. Sounds perfect.” “And bring Liam! He got hot on his travels.” “Fuck off!” I giggled. “I’ll see you soon.” “Byeeeee.” “Byeeee. Bye. Bye.” + + + Katie plonked a pint down on the table between us, and then sat across from me, both of us still looking around for a familiar face, but failing to find one, which was pretty unusual since we were back in our local. It was a Sunday afternoon, too. It should have been heaving. But, in a way, I was glad there was nobody there we knew. Katie was the type of person to just invite them over to drink with us, and company was the last thing I wanted to go alongside our upcoming chat. “So, tell me.” She began after a sip. “What happened with you and that Louis guy? Why didn’t it work out?” I took a big sip of my drink too, much bigger than the one she took. In a way, I wished things with Louis hadn’t ended. It wasn’t that there were still feelings there or anything, but even when I found out about Maisie, the way that made feel was nothing compared to the way I was currently feeling about Harry. It proved how different my affections for the two of them were. Louis was pretty casual, Harry was, seemingly, the total opposite. Whenever I even bloody looked at Harry, nothing felt casual. “Um,” I was laughing into my drink before I even found the words. “It turned out he had a girlfriend.” “Are you serious?” She gawped. “Hundred percent.” “That little bastard!” “Then he broke up with her and came up to me expecting me to fall into his arms. Thankfully, I didn’t. We’re okay now, though.” “You wouldn’t catch me being okay with him.” She scoffed. “Yeah, well you’ve never met Louis Tomlinson.” I chuckled. “Y’know what makes it even weirder? Liam was telling me yesterday, that the two of them are in touch.” Her face was as much of a picture as mine was when Liam told me that he and Louis had stayed pally since he came to see me at uni for my birthday. I nodded, and lifted the drink back to my mouth. “What? Why?” She asked. “I dunno!” I blurted. “He was just saying they get on, so decided to stay in touch. Totally weird. He lost the whole, protective big brother thing pretty quickly. That’s the kind of guy Louis is.” “And he’s fit.” She told me, like I didn’t know. “Yeah.” We had literally been there a matter of minutes and I was half way through my pint. I think I was nervous. Katie had been close with my family. I met her at college, so she had only known them around 3 years, but my parents were always so welcoming. They had always let me have people round to drink before nights out, sometimes drinking alongside us. She had gotten to know and love them. I really didn’t want her to get upset. Because she cried as much as I did, and that would have made me feel even worse. “So, do you have your eye on anyone else?” She quizzed, kinking her brows. “No. Katie, I need to talk to you about something.” I brushed past it quickly. She was a little taken aback by my quick change of topic, but she sat upright and put her drink down, knowing this wasn’t my usual tone. “Sure. You okay?” She asked, concerned. “Um. My-my mum and dad split up.” Her face totally dropped. I could practically see her stomach plummet to the floor through her flesh and bones. I bit my bottom lip, my chest shuddering as I held back tears. “Your mum and dad?” She baffled. “I know.” “Your mum and dad?” “Yeah.” I gulped. She smacked her hand against her mouth and placed her elbow on the table, and I noticed she was shaking too. Because it wasn’t just me. It wasn’t that I saw my family in some divine light and let the betrayal slip past me. Everyone thought my mum and dad were a great couple. People admired them as a couple. It wasn’t just me, idolizing them, they just had that aura. Or, I suppose, that image. “But... why?” She breathed. “My dad cheated on my mum.” “Fuck off?” “Yeah.” I gripped my hands into a fist on the table. “With some woman. My mum won’t tell me who, but apparently they used to be friends.” “I hate people.” She scowled. “So, that’s why Liam came home. Him and my mum are renting a house. Hopefully when the divorce procedures are over, she’ll get our house back. Um, my dad’s still with the woman. That’s it. What’s even worse, is I stayed at uni the whole time. She told me in January, and I saw her for the first time yesterday.” My eyes were welling up. “I haven’t even spoke to my dad. He... Fuck. He hasn’t even reached out to me once. I don’t... I don’t know what happened. Everything just... fell apart and I wasn’t even there for her.” I buried my face into my hands and sobbed as silently as I could, praying I wasn’t drawing eyes, but the place was pretty small, and almost impossible to stay even slightly inconspicuous. Katie stayed strong for me. I could see she was close to having a little cry herself, but she sucked it up, and took hold of one of my hands, revealing half my face. “Honey, look at me.” She shuddered, so I tried my best. “Everyone has their own ways of staying strong, okay? Don’t you fucking dare beat yourself up, just because your way of doing that was to stay out of things. Don’t you dare! You have to put yourself first with things like this, and you did. That’s amazing. I’m... I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I know it must be such a shock but... it’s a lesson, right? You’ll have your family, just like you always wanted. Don’t let this taint that for you. Please don’t.” “No way.” I gulped, composing myself. “I know what I want. What’s happening… It hasn’t changed anything, I promise. I’m just... I’m so sad. They’ve been such a great example of what I want and it’s like... How much of it was fake? I don’t know. But... I’ve had time and, the more I think about it... I guess it just made me want it more. It made me more determined. Like, I’ve had the view of it going well, and now I’m seeing it going wrong. It’s complicated, but it makes sense in my head.” She nodded along with me, seeming to understand where I was coming from, even though it made little to no sense in my own head. She was just happy that I hadn’t given up on the dreams of what I wanted. I had always been a pretty persistent person, and that was shining through. It didn’t matter to me that the original thing that made me want a family so much had fallen apart. That was what I wanted, and that was what I would get. “I’m proud of you.” Katie mulled after a while. “Why?” “For always being consistently true to what you want. Who you are. It’s my favourite thing about you.” I blushed, because they were always the greatest compliments I felt I could receive. Over someone telling me they liked my hair, or my makeup, or clothes. Over someone telling me they thought I was pretty or anything like that, compliments on my personality and my characteristics where what I truly wanted to hear. The ones that stuck with me. Then suddenly, she hit my arm, hard. I faked a bit of pain, using my left hand to stroke over the sore spot on my right arm, before then using it to wipe away the final few tears that had gathered under my eyes. “What was that for?” I gawped. “You should have spoken to me!” She growled. “No, I know, I probably should but... It’s good.” “Did you speak to Zayn about it?” She asked. “Yeah. He was amazing, obviously. I spoke with Ed too, and Harry. They’ve all been great so, yeah. I’ve been fine.” “You hated Harry the last time I saw you.” She chuckled. “I know.” I laughed at myself. “But he pulled through for me, during this whole thing with my mum and dad. Even when we weren’t friends he offered me a place to stay. Turns out he’s a really decent lad.” “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay.” She sighed. “Of course.” She downed the rest of her drink, because we both knew that the conversation was done, and she was trying to hide how torn up she was about the news of my parents. She just shook her head, getting to her feet and heading back over to the bar, not even asking if I wanted another drink, because she was going to get me one regardless. But at least it was done. We could just carry on drinking and move on with our night in higher spirits. I watched Katie at the bar, grateful to be back with her once again. To be honest, I was grateful for all the friends I had. I was lucky. If people say that your friends are your second family, I knew that I couldn’t have a better example to live by. + + + Jamie and Matt were complete idiots. I had forgotten that, somewhere down the line. Mike would probably get along with them very well. I watched as Matt shoved another peanut up Jamie’s nose, both nostrils now blocked, as Katie and Sophia put down an entire tray full of drinks on our table. It was only 9pm, but that meant I had already been there for two hours. Both me and Katie had not been taking our drinking lightly, either. But it was all good, because The Bull and every other place in town was the only open until midnight, so it wasn’t like I was peaking too soon or anything. Jamie and Matt had only just been handed their second pint and they were acting the drunkest out of the lot of us. They weren’t drunk, though. Just idiots, like I said. “Can you breathe?” Matt asked Jamie. “Yeah. Through my mouth.” He replied. “Okay, but just try and breathe through your nose.” Jamie closed his mouth, and huffed out the biggest sniff he could, and the two peanuts that had been jammed up his nose went flying into my pint. I stared at him across the table. The features of his face dropped at the exact same time as Matt’s dropped into his hands, his body flopping so he was practically slumped under the table as he laughed his little heart out, and the nuts sunk to the bottom of my glass. “What are you drinking?” I asked him. “Erdinger.” He replied. I took my glass of Fosters and swapped the two around, sticking my tongue out at him, before took a big gulp of what was his drink. “That’s better.” I sighed. “Hey!” He protested. “That cost like, twice as much as yours!” “Well maybe you should calm down with your peanut shenanigans.” I giggled. He stuck his middle finger up before he picked up his new, less expensive, weaker, drink. Which was all he deserved, to be honest. “So everyone, catch me up.” Sophia smiled. “I want to know everything. Matt, you first.” “Well, I still don’t have a job.” He said, sitting upright again. “My mum tells me that I’ve let her down every single day, and I got rejected for a job at fucking McDonald’s. That’s all I have.” I loved Matt dearly, but he was a little hopeless. He was one of those guys though. He was intelligent and kind, the sort of person who you knew would figure it all out eventually. He was just currently in a bit of a rut. “Oi!” Sophia snapped. “Working at McDonald’s isn’t a fucking picnic, alright? You have to be really hardworking to have a job like that. A girl at uni does it, and they work her into the bloody ground.” He held his hands up in defeat, knowing she was definitely right, and he was definitely in no place to be belittling any kind of work. Sophia had been working for her own money since she was 14 years old, when she got a part-time job at our local post office. Her mum and dad were both in great jobs, but had worked all their bloody lives to get there, and they wanted her to experience the same thing. She was barely scraping by at uni and she was working two jobs whilst she was there. No one knew hard work like Sophia and her family did. She was fucking brilliant. “London’s great.” Katie began next. “Choosing to study maths, not so great, but London is, so that’s fine. My mum and my step-dad are great. Yeah. Everything is great.” “My job at the art store is great.” Sophia began. “My job at the bar is terrible. But it’s whatever. At least I can afford to study, right?” Unsurprisingly, Sophia was studying business, in Nottingham. I struggled enough with no job. I had no clue how she worked two jobs and studied in between. Every head turned to me. I gulped hard, deciding to tell the truth, but just do it as casually as possible. “Umm. Well, uni is good. My mum and dad are getting divorced, but I’m good. It’s all good. Jamie, you’re next.” I prompted. I could tell Matt wanted to coo and sigh and sulk and ask me if I was okay, but I saw his eyes flick to Katie who was sat next to me, and the moment passed. I figured she had given him a threatening look, one that told him I really didn’t want to be asked. I smiled and took another sip of my drink, as everyone waited for Jamie to fill us all in on life since January, the last time we were all together. He seemed more awkward than I did. My stomach dropped, before he even spoke. “Um, uni’s great. Brighton has a lot of gay people, which is fun. I found out gay people are pretty fun.” “What aren’t you telling us?” Matt bit, knowing his best friend well. I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want to push him, but we could tell from the look on his face and the bizarre direction he’d immediately taken the conversation, that it was something he did want to tell us, he just didn’t know how. “Okay, I’m sorry, it’s just… My-my mum has cancer.” He mumbled. “Which is shit. It’s… it’s shit, and I’m angry because… she found out in fucking February and only told me yesterday. Said she didn’t want to distract me from my uni work.” Matt looked like he was going to cry. Those two went to bloody primary school together, and they had been inseparable ever since. That news, was obviously, ripping him to pieces. Not that us girls were doing any better. My eyes were wide as I stared at Jamie like a deer in headlights. “Jamie, I’m so sorr-” Katie tried, but she was cut short. “And I don’t want to sound like a complete prick, but that’s so fucking selfish.” He was getting worked up, and there were tears in his eyes. “That’s so selfish of her. To think she can keep something like that from me. I have to… get home for summer, and she tells me now, after months of chemo, which apparently, isn’t going well. I’m so fucking angry, y’know?” He wasn’t angry. Obviously, he didn’t know that. He was just sad, and his only way of showing that so far, was via that swirl of rage. Without another word being said, Matt leaped to Jamie and hugged him tight, the two of them crying on each other’s shoulders. Every single one of us, had our own baggage. Seeing the pain on Jamie’s face, mine seemed pretty light. + + + Jamie lit a cigarette for me, then passed it over. I balanced the tip between my lips, and breathed in the biggest gulp of dirty air imaginable, the two of us drunk and sat on a curb, just around the corner from our houses, since now my mum was renting, we lived a few doors down from him. It was bitterly cold, but the amount of beers we had consumed helped us ignore that as we stared out to the damp pavement ahead of us, breathing quite heavily, Jamie lighting his own cigarette and seething the chemicals into his lungs. “So, which is your mums house?” He asked me. I pointed in the general direction as he whipped his head to look, not quite being able to spot the house I meant, but nodding anyway, like he knew the exact one. “That one.” I mumbled. “We’re neighbours!” “I guess so. For now.” I hiccupped. “So, I’m close if you ever wanna... talk. Or if you don’t, I won’t mention it again.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, his head clearly swimming as he tried to figure out what he wanted. I got it, in a way. I would bounce between wanting to talk about my mum and dads divorce, to never wanting to speak about it at all. But at least both my parents were healthy and well. That’s all that really mattered. I felt so awful for Jamie. “Right now, there isn’t much to talk about.” He shrugged. “I don’t know much. But, if I need to talk, I will. Right now, I think I need my bed.” We both got to our feet slowly, stumbling a little bit on our way up. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we walked towards my house, the two of us finding silent comfort in one another. We finished our cigarettes and hugged tightly. For his pride, I pretended to ignore his tears. I knew Jamie well after all these years, and I didn’t need to baby him. I practically fell into my house, still hiccupping as I locked my front door and made my way upstairs. With the place still being unfamiliar, and with how drunk I was, when I got upstairs, I went into Liam’s room thinking it was my own, seeing my brother fast asleep, snoring loudly. I giggled quietly and turned on my heel, figuring out the right room whilst in the hall, just to make sure I didn’t get in bed with my mum. I stripped off and got into bed, and without thinking what I was doing, I rang Harry, because I missed his voice. Already. He answered pretty quickly. “Hey.” He spoke. “Did I wake you up?” “Nah. I’m watching Netflix. What’s up? You okay?” His voice was a calm. It was soothing, relaxing, intimate, something I was practically versed in. I’d realised that I hadn’t gone that long without hearing his voice all year. It had been just over a day, and it was too long for me. I gulped hard, closing my eyes and getting comfortable, before I spoke. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” “What?” “Jamie’s mum has cancer.” He was quiet for a while, obviously. It wasn’t quite something you could reply to easily, something casual. Of course he didn’t know what to say. “Oh. Okay. Who’s Jamie?” “My friend. I keep complaining about stuff. But everyone’s healthy so I need to stop.” I hiccupped again. “Are you drunk?” “My mum and my dad are healthy. Liam is healthy. You’re healthy. That’s all that matters, right?” “Don’t put yourself down, Pip-Squeak.” “No. I’m not. I know-” I hiccupped. “I know not to discredit my own situation because of other peoples. I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently.” “You’re amazing.” He whispered deeply, but I barely listened. “But I also need to take things into consideration, don’t I? I’m happy you’re okay. I need you to be okay. I’m happy when you’re okay.” He went quiet again, but I was too drunk to find that awkward. I was falling asleep, slowly but surely, soothed by the sound of his breathing, like I had been many times before. Usually, I was used to feeling his breath on my neck, but that would have to do. “I’m happy when you’re happy.” He eventually replied. “I’m tired.” I groaned. “And very drunk.” He chuckled. “Hm. Yeah. Very drunk.” I so desperately wanted to be with him, to have his arms wrapped around my waist, his warm skin gluing with mine. “Look after your friend, alright?” He sighed. “I’ll speak to you soon.” “DON’T GO!” I yelled, then shushed myself. “What? You’re falling asleep.” He laughed. “Let me fall asleep with you.” I yawned. “I can pretend you’re here.” I literally heard him gulp. His Adams-apple must have bounced like crazy, it was loud. Maybe it was uncomfortable, but I was too drunk to care. “Okay.” He mumbled. I could hear the distant sound of the TV again as I nodded off, trying not to focus on that, and just concentrate on the knock-on effect of his heart beating, resulting in the warm air that fell from his gorgeous lips, and practically travelled through our phones. It wasn’t long until I fell asleep, but he stayed on the other end the whole time.

[awa--awa]

9am Hike

I thought i’d go for a hike today

somewhere around the Sierra Forest.

There’s a trail somewhere around there. I’ve seen people post photos of it online. I’ve never actually been, never dared to.

There’s also a peaceful lake, named the Sierra Lake.

There’s supposed to be a nice bench where the ducks are fed by fellow bench sitters. Many joggers and dog walkers go through Sierra Forest. I never jog and I don’t have a dog, but i’d reckon that any forest is welcome to anybody.

I woke up at 8, quite a rare occurrence that is

so I thought; today is the day i finally go on that hike. I would be there by 9

after a nice 30 minute walk.

I packed my hiking bag with all my favorite things

My camera, my journal, a copy of Langston Hughes.

I also packed my purple hoodie in case it got cold. I almost forgot to bring my favorite pair of sunglasses, but I grabbed it before leaving.

I also packed my skateboard on the hiking bag’s elastic holders.

I just hoped that my bag of candy did not get crushed

Ironically, that would ruin the trip the Sierra Forest. 

I had my favorite breakfast: Bacon, egg and cheese sandwich

a cappuccino and a cigarette to start a wonderful day.

I left, leaving the heater at 5, all the nights on, and my keys on the table.

I thought i’d take a detour by the Sierra Park where the pigeons would gather

Luckily I brought some bread and I tossed a couple pieces to them as they surrounded me. They are good company, especially in the morning.

the pigeons wandered to a different bench sitter, and I opened up my Langston Hughes to a random page. 

“Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird, That cannot fly.”

I nearly cried. His words always struck at a core. I really wanted to see the ducks, so I only read that passage and continued towards Sierra Forest.

The trees in this season look like skeletons

no leaves to call flesh, and no color but grey

still, they felt alive. especially on such weather as today.

9am is usually not as windy here. In fact it was sunny, 6 degrees or so

no wind.

it was a special day. It always was a special day when the air feels as fresh as it does in spring.

One could walk in shorts in this weather but it is much more cozy with a coat.

One man did walk past me, and he wore shorts. I thought to myself

you are mad, sir. in this weather, any second the cold wind could come

and the 9am special feeling turns into more of a 4pm sunset sadness.

The weather held up during my walk, thankfully.

I saw a yellow light blinking in the distance.

The light came from a van under the Sierra Tunnel.

Joggers and dog walkers passed by, peaking at the commotion.

I could not see but the men and women wore uniforms

neon.

I got closer and noticed an old man on the ground. the uniforms surrounded him, and beside him a middle aged woman spoke on the phone. She didn’t seem to know him, or so I would imagine because she was quite calm.

The old man on the ground looked my grandfather, except taller and my grandfather never wore baseball caps. He enjoyed showing his greying hair, even when it began to fall out.

The middle aged woman looked like my mother, only darker and taller. Her voice of concern as she spoke on the phone reminded me of the time my mom received a call explaining that her estranged father was taken the hospital.

It was the same voice: concerned about the old man on the ground, but concerned not to extent of tears, as one would have for a stranger seemingly fallen ill.

The people behind me joined me in eavesdropping. How does one not look?

A man is on the ground and first responders are there, but everyone seems to be planning what to do next.

I would imagine it to be difficult

to be the one person or people who can help, but being absolutely useless.

Whether they were parametics or not, the question did not come to mind.

the yellow light was still on and the uniforms were still on the phone,

and the old man who resembled my grandfather, lay still on the ground

possibly counting his final moments and dreaming of his loved ones

and all the memories that he is not ready to say goodbye to.

I only made it to about 10 meters passed the man before I burst into tears.

who was he? I thought. Was he going to die? Will one of his friends or family members make it in time to see him. Was he on the floor because of the virus? or was he just old? and which is worse? 

I wanted to help

but everyone who could help was already there

my job was to simply hope

hope, for a stranger to get back up on their feet and begin walking, smiling, laughing, eating.

I cried the whole way through Sierra Park and when I reached Sierra Forest, my cries were more like yells. 

And I wanted to yell as loud as possible, but I know someone would come searching to help.

So instead i kept the crying to a medium level and only the skeleton trees would hear me.

I found the bench and sat on it. There were no ducks there yet, but the lake was indeed as beautiful as it seemed on the photos. 

By then i stopped crying and I was silently looking at a blank page on my journal. Today i really don’t have anything to say, it seems.

two ducks, glowing with their slightly green necks waddled into the lake.

That made me happy.

I tossed some pieces of bread to them and they rushed to the pieces.

They are fiercely competitive, but all in all harmless if you give them each an equal amount.

I wish I could speak to them, and I wish they could speak to me.

I took out my bag of candy and took one piece and swallowed it.

It was tasteless and I could feel nothing from it, but that is why I brought these.

I must have lost my sense of taste and smell sometime in the last month.

Many have asked me when I knew that i lost that ability and I always say the same thing.

It was a friday and I went to the museum.

Upon looking at the large canvas in the main hall, I saw much color, and much shape

but I felt absolutely nothing.

That was when I knew.

I swallowed another piece of candy and threw two more pieces of bread to the ducks, before throwing an entire slice.

I closed my journal and opened up my Langston Hughes.

“Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid.”

I didn’t cry this time, but I closed my eyes and I could feel my head getting lighter.

With my eyes still closed I grabbed another piece of candy and I was about to swallow it, until I heard a sudden yell coming from somewhere in the forest.

FUCK! A very loud yell it was.

I turned around but saw nothing but a hint of a metallic structure hidden behind the array of branches in the forest. I recognized the structure. I definitely did.

I walked towards the yell and then I heard it again.

FUCK! GOD DAMMIT!

It was a young boy’s voice, I was certain.

I rushed towards the voice and fortunately he was not in any danger, but he was crying at the bottom of the deep end of an empty pool. A bowl is what its called.

In the shallow end of the bowl, I saw a snapped skateboard and a single kneepad.

You probably leaned too far back didn’t you, kid?

He seemed angry. Didn’t say anything and just looked down sniffling.

I walked into the bowl and handed him my board.

Here you go, I said. Try it again. This time, don’t lean back, but forward, keeping your hands slightly opened so you can maintain balance.

He looked at me with an angry face. 

Here, you can take my board.

I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, he said.

Fair enough, kid, I said walking towards the 3 stair.

Wait, is that a limited edition Aerohawk? from Tony Devs? 

He wasn’t angry anymore.

Yeah, it is, I said. Do you want to try it?

He took the board, and he seemed like he had just found treasure.

Awesome, hahah, He said.

He went to the top of the deep side of the bowl and prepared to drop in.

He took one step down and skated through to the end of the bowl. He cheered and cheered, until a rock stopped him and threw him forward.

He yelled in the pain, this time truly loud. His wrist was broken.

We walked quickly out of Sierra Forest and the boy continued to cry. 

It’s gonna be alright, dude. There’s a hospital close by. Do you know your mom or dad’s number?, I asked.

No, I don’t, he said.

Well that’s not much help is it? do you know any way of contacting them?, I asked.

Not really, I just skate home usually. it’s about 20 minutes. He said sniffling.

Alright then we gotta get to the hospital and maybe they can help there, I said.

What’s that in your pocket? he asked pointing at my bag of candy.

Nothing, i said quickly. those aren’t for kids.

We reached a clinic just outside Sierra Park in 5 minutes.

I saw, from a distance, the old man still on the floor surrounded by the paramedics.

I waited in the waiting area and after a while, a doctor came out with the kid and he had a cast on his wrist. He didn’t seem in pain anymore.

We’re gonna call your mom now, son. What is her name? we can find her in the phone book. The doctor spoke calmly, but the kid said no.

No, please don’t call my mom. I was supposed to be at school. She’ll ground me for months.

Well i’m sorry, son but that the policy, the doctor said.

the kid and I sat in the waiting area for about 15 minutes. 

You know when I was your age, I said, I also skipped school to go skating. My mom told me if i ever did it again, she’d take away my skateboard. And I never did it again. I said, laughing slightly & for the first time that day.

The kid laughed a little. That’s pretty funny, he said, but I just don’t wanna get into shit.

You’ll be alright, kid, I said, and hey, stop cursing so much.

The kid’s mother showed up in a blue mini van. She was extremely jittery and ran into the clinic looking around, and upon seeing her kid, gave him a death stare that I recognize from my own mother.

Jeremy! I can’t believe you!, she yelled.

And who are you? she gestured towards me.

I was about to answer but Jeremy interrupted. I snapped my board, mom. He just lent me his and then I fell and broke my wrist. He walked with me to the clinic. But I finally dropped in at the Sierra bowl, mom! Jeremy spoke proudly of his new achievement but his mom sighed.

Well, thanks for getting him here...uhh, she was to thank me but didn’t know my name.

I filled her in. Jason, ma’am. 

Well Jason, do you need a ride? She asked kindly.

No, ma’am. thank you. I replied.

You should join us for lunch, dude. Jeremy told me. right mom? He asked.

I guess that’s fine. But you’re still grounded. The mom answered. I decided to have lunch with the Fitzgerald’s as they were called. We rode back to their home, and I immediately noticed the three small home-made ramps in the front yard. 

Are those yours? i asked Jeremy.

yeah! been trying to land a kick flip off the high one. I guess now I can’t. Jeremy frowned slightly.

Jeremy’s mother made us ham and cheese sandwiches and we sat in their living room watching jeopardy. Their home was cozy. Only a couple of pictures of Jeremy and his mother. The beige wallpaper was calming and they were friendly. 

After we finished our lunch I thanked Jeremy’s mother and began to put my shoes on. 

Thanks for helping me out today, Jason. Jeremy said kindly, but his face was still sad.

I grabbed my skateboard and handed it to him.

You can have it, I said.

Jeremy was speechless, and he thanked me again, and then immediately ran outside to test it on his homemade ramps.

That was the second time I was happy that day.

I walked back towards Sierra Forest, this time taking me more than 30 minutes.

It was already 11, but I didn’t care about reaching the forest at 9 anymore. The weather was still good and the wind was still silent. 

I passed the Sierra tunnel again and I saw the old man resembling my grandfather. he was walking, with the help of an older lady. The man was smiling, and i began to tear up once again. 

The trees began whistling, and the wind began to arrive.

I looked up at the tall skeleton trees with no leaves for flesh and for the first time in a long time,

I saw life

I could taste the air

and I could smell the season.

I took my camera out of my bag and took a photo of the whistling trees.

I continued on the path to Sierra Forest, but I stopped suddenly.

I didn’t know why exactly, but I followed the feeling.

I took out my bag of candy, and stared at it

and at such a sight i felt nothing close to life. 

i tossed it in the trashcan and turned around, making my way back home.

I thought then to myself,

today is not the day to go for a hike.

<>

[sae-you-sae-me]

Hey guys! I had this crazy idea I can't get out of my head: RFA+V & Saeran in some disney scenario lmao. But! They're the 'princess' and MC is the 'prince' :D Just a random example to illustrate my point: Jumin is a rich and bored prince and only his tigress Elly is bringing him joy, but then this sneaky plebeian girl rolls up singing 'I can show you the world' lol

This is a really creative prompt! Hope you like these~

Zen:

(Cinderella)

Zen thought he was just a lowly boy in a household with his brother and mother 

His mother wasn’t the kindest of people

She made him clean a lot and she rarely let him leave the house

She never praised him for his actions, and always put him down for his looks

It grew to the climax when you, royalty, invites him to a ball

His mother locked him up in his room and refused to let him out, attending the party herself

Then one day, a fairy–er–godmother named Seven visited him and freed him from his room

Using magic, Seven dressed him in the finest suit and placed two glass roses in his suit pocket and sent him on his way

His beauty caught your eye, but there was something else about this man that intrigued you

You asked him to dance, and afterwards you both retreated into the nearby garden

You saw his kind heart and knew there was something about him

But then the clock struck midnight, and he rushed away from you in a fluster

A glass rose had fallen, miraculously intact on the stairs

You determined to find this kind heart someway or another

Meanwhile, Zen returned to his life unsatisfied with everything, but managing nonetheless

When he finds out you’re searching for someone with a glass rose, he’s ecstatic 

With the help of Seven, he manages to bypass his mother’s schemes and show you the matching rose

You two live happily ever after in a castle

Yoosung: 

(Sleeping Beauty) 

A prince with brown hair born to a kingdom and his name was Yoosung

His three fairy caretakers gave him gifts at his birth

Zen gave him beauty, which changed his hair to a bright blond

Jumin gave him wealth and wellbeing

Before the last gift could be given, an evil witch named Rika Morgana intruded and put a curse on him

So, as the last gift, the fairy V bestowed on Yoosung a blessing that made him go into a deep slumber instead of death

The king and queen still worried for their son, so they sent him with the three fairies to grow up away from troubles

Years later, Yoosung had a tendency to wander away from the small cottage

It was on one of these outings he met you, a princess from another land

He feels like he’s met you before, and instantly falls you *Cue Once Upon A Dream playing*

When he returns to the cottage and the fairies find out, they instantly separate you two to his chagrin

In his fit of anger, he runs away from the cottage and stumbles upon a castle

Morgana tricks him into pricking his finger and Yoosung falls into a deep sleep

But Morgana also pulled you in, luring you into the castle and becoming a dragon

She tried to kill you off but you persevered and slayed the dragon, suddenly motivated by saving Yoosung from his sleep

You rescue him by giving him true love’s kiss

You two return to the castle, reunite with Yoosung’s parents, and live happily ever after

Jaehee: 

(Frozen)

Jaehee was in charge of a kingdom after your parents died

But she had these special powers that she was unsure of and didn’t know what to do with

So she did her best to suppress her power and hide…even from you

But finally the day came where she was coronated, and you two would finally bond…you hoped

You met a man there…he seemed amazing

He was a prince and you two just seemed to click, and his name was Jumin

But Jaehee disagreed when you said you wanted to marry him

The argument caused her powers to slip out and the whole kingdom fell in fear

So she fled, and you couldn’t catch up though you tried

On your way to find her, you met a tall, really handsome man who somehow joined you on your search

This man, Zen, seemed to give you advice about marrying a man you just met and how it was ridiculous and how men were beasts

He also had this quirky reindeer named Sveven

On the way, you also met this happy little ball of snow named Yoosung

With their help, you found Jaehee’s castle of ice and approached her

Things didn’t go well and you got shot in the heart with ice

Zen hurried you out of there to the magical trolls while Jaehee continued to detiorate in her fear

When he hears about the act of true love, he takes you home to Jumin

Only, Jumin betrays you for the sake of a kingdom and takes over for awhile

Finally, Jaehee embraces her power and before she can be annihilated by Jumin, you intervene

This act of love melts your heart of ice

You and Jaehee  bond again and everyone lives happily ever after

Jumin: 

(Aladdin) 

He was a prince who was locked up in an extravagant castle

His father wanted him to marry, but Jumin wasn’t thrilled with the idea

One night, he kissed his tiger Elizabeth the Third before sliding over the wall in disguise to see the city

Not knowing much of commoner ways, he soon got lost, but thankfully a peasant girl intervened and helped him through

He had never felt a connection with anyone before you and he found the night flew by

Unfortunately, you were caught by his palace guards thanks to his father’s evil advisor Sarah Choi

Meanwhile, Sarah convinced his father, by nefarious means, to betroth Jumin to herself

You escaped prison, in the meantime, and followed a Sarah in disguise to find a genie lamp

You entered a cave with your monkey Saeran and passed a few obstacles

You befriended a magic carpet named Yoosung and found the genie lamp

The genie named Seven offered you three wishes, so you started your transformation to be worthy of Prince Jumin

With Seven’s help, you appear as a princess and go to Jumin

Your first meeting is rough, but you take him on a magic carpet ride and somewhere along the way he founds out you’re the peasant girl from the market place

Unfortunately, so does Sarah Choi

She plans your downfall but ultimately fails

You and Jumin end up together after all, despite your varying classes, and live happily ever after

 Seven:

(Tangled)

Saeyoung was a prince with magical red hair

As a result, he couldn’t cut it or the hair would turn normal

Because of this, he was kidnapped by a cruel woman and locked in a tower while she claimed to be his mother

He was never allowed to leave and didn’t have any friends but his chameleon Vanderwood

Still he had this longing to see the stars near the castle

One day, while his evil mother was out on “errands”, he made up his mind to finally leave the castle

But his plans were thwarted when a thief broke into his house while on the run from the castle guards and their dedicated royal horse Saeran

“What brought you here? Fate? Destiny?”

“Your brother A horse.”

He makes an agreement with you that he would return your stolen crown if you took him to see the stars

You agree, though you try to get rid of him somehow

He has a bunch of mood swings, feeling happy at his freedom but also guilty for leaving

Unfortunately, you drag him into your own problems as you try to run away from your old partners in crime

Finally, you make it to the city where you reunite with your enemy…Saeran…who happens to be protective of Saeyoung

Still, since it’s his birthday you two get along and spend a day in the city

During this time, you realize you had fallen for him and you want to quit your old life

Your magical boat ride underneath the stars goes awry when Saeyoung’s mother intervenes

You get wounded, you cut his hair, but in the end everything ends up okay

You get free from your life, Saeyoung ends up with his happy family, and you live happily ever after

Saeran: 

(Hercules)

You never really fit in anywhere because you had magical powers that made you super strong

After seeing you struggle, your parents revealed that you were actually the daughter of a god

But Hades intervened and drained you of your divinity, but your powers still remained

With this information, you went to training with the best of the best…Zen

With his help, you got even stronger and better

On your very first mission, you came across a damoiseua in distress

Only…the boy could handle himself

You found out the boy’s name was Saeran, and you were completely infatuated with him despite Zen’s warnings

Hades finds out Saeran met you and suddenly traps him into another agreement

Saeran is forced to lure you into a trap where Hades can get rid of you forever

But he finds himself falling in love with you on the way

When you and Hades face off, Saeran sacrifices himself, getting himself sent to the underworld

Desperate to get him back, you venture there and pull out his soul from the pool 

In the process, you showed you were truly the daughter of a god and regained your divinity

With your newfound power, you sent Hades back into the underworld and are reunited with your divine parents

But…you wanted to stay with Saeran

So you gave up your immortality to stay with Saeran and live the rest of your lives happily

V: 

Winnie the Pooh

V is Winnie the Pooh

MC is Christopher Robin

Jumin is piglet

Seven is Tigger

Yoosung is Roo

Jaehee is Eeyore

Saeran is Rabbit

They all live happily…no drama happens…everyone has a happy ending

Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

[shefollowedfires]

The Question.

Title: “The Question” Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Kabby Genre: Angst/Smut Words: 5788  AO3: HERE! (A/N: Here it is, y’all! My take on Kane and Abby’s first time together; alternately: “Needs More Feels”. Many, many hugs to you guys for cheering me on so wonderfully, I seriously would not have finished without you. Extra love to @fandammit for keeping my love affair with run-ons in check and also being a spectacular cheerleeder; alongside @aelliots who dealt, as she always does, with my many “I swear to god this word exists!” moments. Hope it was worth the wait! ♥♥♥) ---  She almost lets herself walk away.

After sending her daughter into the hazy distance of a seemingly impossible future, she’s found herself fallen into orbit around him; the chaos of questions about their situation that are waiting to be answered suddenly evaporating in lieu of just one. But unlike the others - will Roan survive? How might their bodies endure the radiation? - she doesn't have the words for this one, only knows that his name fits into the inquiry somehow. So, she stays by his side, watching, waiting, puzzling together how to ask the question that stirs in her bones but won't yet dare speak itself into existence.

She follows him to his quarters - that is, what can only be called his for the evening, as Indra has graciously offered up her room in the Trikru embassy to the Skaikru Ambassador until the tower elevator is repaired and a proper suite arranged. She finds, then, that the question was decidedly not whether she would be unwelcome there. She waits for any of her steps alongside him to feel intrusive as they make their way up the stairs, down the narrow, dim hallway, and ultimately into the rustic intimacy of a room built for little more than sleeping and strategizing.

They don't.

Indra has never taken the time to decorate its greying wooden walls. The small desk under the boarded-up window is completely bare, save for a single lantern which Marcus immediately works at lighting.  The bed itself is simple wrought iron, and nearly buried beneath the only extravagance the warrior has allowed herself: a veritable mountain of thick furs layered as blankets.

It strikes her suddenly that Indra made no inquiry into where she would be sleeping. Perhaps she’d assumed that she’d join Octavia in the common quarters on the first floor. It makes sense. Right now, however, following the busy chaos of restoring order in a broken and angry city where everyone is a possible enemy, she allows herself the indulgence of a closed door, a darkened room, and him.

Her orbit begins to take literal shape as she takes a seat at the desk, him at the edge of the bed. They’re quiet for a moment, and it takes him by surprise when she suddenly laughs darkly that, right this second, it marks the first time in too long that there was nothing that direly needed them to take action.

There's a moment, then, where she feels the question almost come into clarity, holding each other's gaze in a way that makes her wonder if he feels the question, too. She can see it, fleeting and timid, in his deep brown eyes as they appear to search every line in her expression for an answer. Her skin alights with warmth, and the words begin to take shape--

He stands, tries to peer beyond her through the openings in the window, says he’s supposed to meet the other ambassadors at a courtyard on the edge of the city first thing tomorrow. He wonders if he can see it from here. She swallows back what had begun to form, and instead - asks him if he’s nervous.

“It’s historic,” he explains, still searching out the window. “The first meeting of the thirteen clans.”

“Is that a yes?”

He smiles down at her.

“It’s not a no.”

He touches her, then. It’s casual - she’s not sure he even realizes he’s done it - but with a graze of his fingertips, he brushes her bangs behind her ear. She feels her face flush.

“Are you?”

She huffs a laugh.

“I might be.”

From that point forward, she tells herself she’s content to let the orbit dictate her movement as they spend hours of the evening dancing around each other: her cross-legged on the bed while he paces the floor and outwardly takes stock of what Skaikru has to offer in the Coalition; him leaning against the desk, patiently listening while she gesticulates wildly in front of him about the differences between theirs and the Grounders’ ideas of what constitutes an antiseptic. It’s a familiar choreography, and she feels a deep relief at being able to so easily settle into it after everything. More than satisfied, however, she tells herself that she should be grateful that this vibrant, comfortably challenging discourse between them is one constant she hasn't yet lost.

But the question remains.

It bubbles forth when she reaches for his arm, allowing herself to give it a consoling squeeze as he slips into self-doubt. It spikes, almost violently, to the front of her mind when he takes that hand and kisses it before sighing and returning to his frantic pacing.

The feel of his lips against her fingers gives her two of the words: “can we?”

She’s heard these words in her mind before.

She’d let her curiosity test them when she pressed her lips to his cheek in a gesture of what she’d grandiosely called “hope”; a broad enough term to still maintain her dignity if his answer had been “we can't.” She’d thrown that dignity out the window when it turned out that someone else was telling them they couldn't; had tried to press the words “we can, we can, we can” into his hair and shoulders and skin before he’d had the presence of mind to stop her from cementing the prayer against his lips - only to have it forever be unfulfilled.

That was not to be their fate, thankfully, but even with the potent taste of his desperate, determined kiss still imprinted on her lips, the words re-formed back into a question as she retreated into the depths of Arkadia; he, into the indefinite wild.

Can we?

Can we?

Can we?

The taste of all of his ferocious passion for her, white-hot and blazing through her veins like a drug, was all-too-suddenly replaced with the bitter docility of a cold plastic chip. Her voice was stolen from her, manipulated into following what might have been an honest “we can” with the crushing weight of an “if”:

We can, if you surrender.

We can, if you give up your cause.

We can, if you let us win.

The question was twisted, disfigured - in no just world should it have had anything to do with anyone else but them, and certainly, it shouldn't have been poisoned - choked and blackened into a gasping half-life - by an intent to win or lose.

It shouldn't have required an outpouring of pained screams from his lungs and blood from his wrists, at the command of a woman whose voice sounded so much like hers.

She knows he’s said he’s okay. He smooths the assurance into her skin with every timid caress, every brave little smile. But she’s also seen him quickly turn away from her to hide his grimaces, having worked so hard to get her to forget his injury that it takes him by surprise when he’s not able to do the simple things that he used to. He shouldn't have to hide, she thinks; he needs time to rest and face his pain.

And so, when a yawn finally overtakes her, she tells herself that this night has been complete. To talk and touch and spend time with the most familiar person in her life is more of a gift than she deserves. With sleep, she hopes, the question will either settle into silence or make itself unignorably clear. Either way, it’s better for them both that she not ask while it’s still only half-formed. She doesn’t, in all honesty, know how she’d handle a half-answer right now.

So, she almost lets herself walk away.

She excuses herself, with the usual script of “we have a long day ahead of us” and “you should get some rest”; it doesn’t escape her that he swallows down something that had been at the tip of his tongue as she rises from her seat on the bed.

She tries to ignore it.

Still, she can’t stop herself from waiting by the door to see what he’ll do. She rationalizes that she could let him walk with her down to the common quarters under the guise of protection. Trikru are allies now, yes, but it would still be too presumptuous to call them friends. She braces herself as Marcus draws near, fortifying her morale should anything less be the case.

He takes her by the shoulders, drawing gentle lines up and down her arms as if to warm them, and he smiles.

“Good night, Abby,” he offers, low and soft, in a register that she knows he reserves only for her. He leans forward to press a tender kiss against her forehead, and she accepts it. This chaste little gesture is as much of an answer as she’s going to get tonight.

But then, as he draws away, his expression changes.

She’s momentarily ridden with confusion at the furrowed brow that looks down at her with intensity now; that is, until she realizes – with some dismay – that she has tears in her eyes.

“Abby?” he questions, instinctively raising a hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing away the first of the fallen salt-water droplets; and somehow the kind gesture makes it hurt more. She tries to wrestle out a smile for him, works against herself to try and produce even a feeble “I’m fine”. Her voice fails her, though, her mouth futilely shaping words that won’t come; so she presses her lips together and exhales, finally discarding the charades in lieu of something as raw and honest as he deserves.

She looks up at him, and she feels… helpless.

He sees it.

She can almost feel the tremors of ache that ripple out as his heart fractures before her, and he exhales a long breath that seems to come from his very bones. He brushes a few wayward strands out of her face, and she lets her gaze drop towards his frowning lips; keeps it there. He takes the hint, steadying himself with a flicker of uncertainty that needles at her heart for the short moment it takes to tilt her chin up and lean in.

He kisses her.

It’s the first time she’s truly tasted his mouth against hers - without the haze of artificial intelligence to numb her against it - since he made his escape from Pike’s death sentence. He’s tempering his passion, now, though; where once teeth collided and the press of his lips nearly bruised hers, now he merely skirts the lines of her lips with his, moves against her only so far as to remind her of the surprising plushness of his bottom lip. All the same, he tastes like salt and earth, and she’s forgotten how hungry she was for him.

She raises a hand to the back of his neck to draw him closer, and decidedly captures his mouth with an urgency that she finds she’s no longer willing to suppress.

Six months. That’s all they have.

Ah. There it is.

The rest of the question finally formulates, glaring and relentless in her mind as if it had been this obvious the whole time. She pulls away, but only just – rests her forehead against his as they catch their breath.

“Marcus…” she breathes. His eyes dart upward nervously to meet hers, no doubt already preparing an apology.

“Hm?”

She takes his face confidently in her hands to reassure him, then pulls away enough to level him with a steady, decisive stare. “Listen to me. We don’t - we don't have time to be scared… of this.”

On the last two words, she pulls a hand down from his cheek, along the curve of his neck, down to the centre of his chest.

“I’m ready,” she announces quietly, feeling his heart accelerate under her hand.

“For what?” he asks, a bit dumbly, eyes frantically scanning her for clues. It’s precious and a little bit sad and she can’t help a small laugh.

“You,” she answers. She raises her other hand to his jaw, pensively entangling the tips of her fingers into the coarse strands of his beard. “I’m ready to love you, Marcus Kane, if you’ll let me.”

It’s like she’s knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Abby…”

“Can we do that?” she pleads, and readies herself to finally invoke the words that have been sleeping under her skin and haunting her lungs since they crept there, under the shadow of some unknowable night, however many months ago. Her voice nearly trembles under the weight of them:

“Can we let ourselves love each other?”

He’s stunned; has to take a moment to blink away his reverie. But it’s not just his reverie that falls away - she watches as his face suddenly opens up with bright warmth, his entire posture loosening to welcome her in. And then suddenly, she’s in his arms, and it’s not just passion he’s pouring into her, fiery and devastating, but the earthen foundation of a promise.

They breathe each other in deeply as they clamor to find new ways to get closer and closer, knotting fingers clumsily into hair, grasping to pull each other as tight against themselves as they physically can while still clothed. She feels his tongue edge into her mouth briefly, almost by accident, and she alights with some new kind of fire that burns so deeply her entire body feels like iron in a forge.

She hadn't even meant it like this - not really. But the time for being careful and coy is gone, and she feels it in every cell in her body that it’s now the time to celebrate him, to revel in him, to welcome him into the exquisite messiness of a shared life. It’s time that they stopped being separate beings and instead tangled themselves irreparably into one.

With the slightest suggestion, her small body pressing just a little more forcefully against his, he takes the hint, and they begin making their way back towards the bed with eyes closed and lips still crushed against each other. Once the back of his knees connect with the mattress, however, they finally break apart, and he takes a seat on the edge while she stands herself between his legs. His hands never break contact, studiously tracing every muscle in her shoulders and arms through her shirt as she stands before him - not quite bold enough yet to venture to more central places. But she’s never seen his eyes so black as he takes her in; desire burnishing their already deep warmth into depths beyond whatever Earth’s ancient oceans might boast. She feels powerful and a little foolishly proud - like Aphrodite, she thinks with a laugh - as she watches him catalogue every last inch of her, preparing himself for what comes next. He swallows, suddenly, and she feels a sharp pang of panic as his desire is dispelled to make way for concern. She follows his gaze, and finds that it’s come to rest just below her throat, where a silver ring gleams in the lamplight from its home on a tarnished chain. He brings a hand up towards it, intently turning the circular band between his thumb and forefinger.

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes never leaving the memento in his hand. “We don’t have to do this.” She takes his hand into hers, closes their combined fingers around the ring as she considers it. She finds, with some surprise, that she’s almost embarrassed by it in this particular moment - even though it’s been and still is a source of immense pride for her: Jake taught her how to love and be loved. In twenty years of marriage, she’d done her part, certainly; but he was the one who relentlessly challenged her, guarding her integrity as she came to be more and more seduced by the pragmatism of the council. He’d known, better than she did, that if that integrity were ever lost, she would never forgive herself. Inevitably, that day came - and impossibly, he was there, the victim of her greatest sin, offering her his forgiveness like the lifeline it was. That ring saved Abby. But Marcus wasn’t there. He doesn’t have the memory of Jake Griffin’s supernatural grace to call upon. So, he carries his sins like Atlas, weary but dutiful - and when he looks at that ring, all of that weight bears down on him with full force, as though he were killing her husband again and again. It had been her who’d put the blame on him, yes, although she knew now he didn’t need the help in doing so; but the truth was that there was very little difference between his pressing charges and her informing the Chancellor. Had their roles been switched, she couldn’t, in all honesty, say she would have done otherwise. He deserves to be given what Jake had given her.              So she smiles, cups his jaw to steer his gaze back up towards hers. “It’s already done, Marcus.” She draws him into a kiss that, she hopes, fills him with all of her purifying faith in who he is now; who they are now. She gently peels his fingers away from the ring as they part, holding his slightly terrified gaze as she reaches back to undo the chain’s clasp. It’s as she reaches to hang the necklace over one of the bars of the bed that she suddenly feels the air against her newly-bared throat, and an imperceptible shiver overtakes her as it registers what, exactly, they’re about to do. They’ve never been anything more than this to each other - he in his jacket and boots, her in her jeans and shirt. They’re the things that make them recognizable to each other. As soon as those things come off, they’ll become something entirely new, like being born again. With a thrill of both fear and excitement at that, she inhales, takes the leap into the unknown; and sets her trembling fingers to work at the bottom of her henley and tank, slowly lifting them over her head.   

If he’s going to love you, he needs to see you. And he does. She knows she doesn’t have the lithe, youthful body she once did. Her skin is dappled by age spots and the freckles that accompany them; its elasticity slowly diminishing, leaving wrinkles and creases in its wake. She remembers the ugly bloom of green and purple bruising around her neck. She sees how her skin gathers at her shoulders as she finally pulls the shirts completely off - but Marcus leaves no room for her to be embarrassed by any of it. His eyes have succumbed to dark desire once more, and she can feel how hot his gaze is as it rakes over her skin. Almost as if hypnotized, his fingertips seem to float towards her waist, landing with hesitant gentleness as he feels the soft warmth of her bare skin for the first time. He’s mesmerized, drawing light, goosebump-inducing lines along her sides, his thumbs moving to graze the subtle slope of her abdomen. She takes advantage of his preoccupation, sliding her hands beneath the collar of his jacket to remove it. She’s deliberately slow  as she feels the powerful muscles of his shoulders under her fingers, twitching slightly at her touch. He removes his hands from her waist momentarily to shrug the jacket off, and she trails her fingers down the soft cotton of the grey shirt sleeves left behind. He looks up at her as he moves his hands to remove his own shirt. here’s an edge of mild anxiety to his wide eyes that cracks her heart, so she takes his hands into hers to still them.   “It’s okay,” she whispers, and brushes his hands away as she leans in close. He watches as she veers coyly away from his lips, instead laying a trail of slow, soft kisses along his bearded jaw. When she reaches his ear, she tugs at the lobe gently with her teeth and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hidden, sensitive little spot of skin behind it where neck meets jaw. He exhales, his voice shaping the breath into a groan that takes him by surprise- -almost as much as the feel of her hands under his shirt, working their way upward to remove it. Good. The distraction worked. He allows her to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly to some corner of the room, and then it’s her turn to be mesmerized.       Her hands fall towards the centre of his chest, where a faint whisper of dark hair has grown amid the valleys of fine muscle he’s built since landing on the ground. She doesn’t remember his skin ever being this rich in colour; she finds that her mind somehow tricked her into believing that perhaps beneath his clothing, the paleness induced by decades of only absorbing fluorescent light would still remain. It’s shocking, almost, to see how thoroughly golden he’s become - truly, there isn’t a single part of him that resembles the man he once was. He is utterly transformed. This is a man who no longer lives by the cold mystery of the moon, but the warmth and radiance of the sun. Then, suddenly, his arms are around her, and his hands have travelled up her spine to settle at the clasp of her bra. “Can I?” he asks. She nods. She holds her breath. The clasp falls open, and he brings the straps down along her arms with care, dutifully placing the black contraption on the floor before he even allows himself to look. He smiles, then, shaking his head incredulously. “God, you’re beautiful.” She smirks. “I like to think the rest of me is alright, too,” she teases, earning a wry glare. “You might have to show me,” he challenges, a devilish twinkle dancing across his eyes as he seems to browse for the place his hands get to explore next.

She cards her fingers through his hair, tilting his head back up towards her.

“Why do I have to do all the work - Chancellor?” She has to bite her lip to prevent from grinning completely as the quip, paired with her most enterprising, sauciest glare, immediately produces its intended effect: the dam finally breaks.

The time for modesty has gone, replaced, instead, with an all-consuming hunger that devours them just as completely as they then strive to devour each other. He stands just enough to grip her around the waist and throws her, a little too effortlessly, onto the bed, bouncing a little as she lands.Then he’s on top of her, and his hands are everywhere, and his lips are everywhere, and she can’t get enough. His broad, masculine hands massage her full breasts in a manner that’s almost forceful as, simultaneously, their mouths crush against each other with absolutely no pretenses of elegance. It’s raw and eager and god, she feels like she’s been set on fire as she darts her tongue into his mouth and finds his own ready and willing to wrestle powerfully for dominance.

The blaze concentrates below her stomach as suddenly his calloused fingers are working at the button of her jeans, and she whines a little when his lips leave hers so that he can shuffle down and better work at peeling off her pants. Sighing with impatience, she lazily kicks off her boots to help the process along. Marcus grunts with frustration as he yanks at the tight material, and she can't help a chuckle. He quirks a bemused eyebrow at her.

“You weren’t kidding about the work.”

“Wouldn't be worth it any other way,” she counters playfully; but the radiant, affectionate grin it earns her tells her its double-meaning hasn’t escaped him.

They deserve this.

Finally finding success, worn and withered jeans tossed with victorious aplomb across the room, Marcus kicks off his own boots before eagerly climbing back toward where he can feed his new addiction to her mouth. She gasps as she suddenly feels him pressing against her thigh, hard and hot even through the thick fabric-

She doesn’t mean to flinch, but she does, and he feels it; so he pulls away. “Are you alright?” She nods; but it doesn’t quite feel honest. The truth is as follows: Jake was the only man she’d ever been with. The shape of Marcus’ body is broader, a bit softer than Jake’s, and the weight of it sinks against hers in a heavier way than Jake’s did. It even radiates a different kind of heat. She’s not surprised that the two men are different - and maybe it’s just that its been so long, but this… “It’s just new,” she manages between breaths. “Different.” Hovering over her, resting his weight on his hands - she cringes as she remembers the bandages, the pain he must be working to hide - he nods, and seems to understand. “It’s still not too late, Abby.” “No,” she sighs, almost laughs. Her  hand weaves its way around his neck to toy with the ends of his sweat-damp hair. “I want this. I want you.” She draws both of her hands down his shoulders, along his arms, and down to his bandages. “Now, lay back,” she instructs as he blushes at the reminder of his injury. And then, with a smirk: “Doctor’s orders.” He’s momentarily confused, but readily obeys as she pushes against his shoulders to roll their bodies so that she’s on top of him. She plies him with a firm, deep kiss as she straddles his waist, and feels his hands wander up the outsides of her thighs to her ass. They’re so close to where she really wants them to be, but this is not the time for that - so she begins making her descent southward, trailing lingering kisses down his throat, into his clavicle. She sits up to take him in as he watches her with a potent mix of curiosity and anticipation. He’s a marked man. He carries his history on his skin like a map, and she traces her finger tips reverently from one point to another - a faint cloud of violet sprawling out from his stomach, a glaring, fresh slash of red at his shoulder - before gently gathering his left arm away from her ass and into her hands. He flinches away from her a little at the touch, and she quickly shushes him. “Let me,” she urges, and watches his shoulders reluctantly relax back into the fur blankets. She turns his hand thoughtfully between hers, tracing a fingertip along his palm where there’s still a hint of pearlescent, bubbled scar tissue. She leans in to press a chaste kiss against the burn, and he stretches his fingers out to try to caress her face as she does so; but she’s not done. “This is who I want,” she breathes, before lifting his hand so she can place a kiss against his bandaged wrist. The material is rough compared to his skin, and it smells like old blood, but she presses her cheek to it, holding it close.  “This is who I want.” She frowns as her hands fall a little further down his arm, to where a long, white scar divides his forearm lengthwise in two. “This,” she begins, her tone darkening with a warning that makes him blush, “is who you don’t have to be anymore. Because this…” She suddenly draws a long trail from his left forearm, across his chest, and down to the middle of his right forearm, landing on a smooth, shining circle of iron-branded skin. She softens her voice. “This is who you will always be to me.”      She only just has time to catch a glimpse of the glisten that’s formed in his eyes before suddenly he’s rising up to meet her and nearly knocks the wind out of her with a powerful kiss. One of his hands, now released from her grasp, is tangled into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he thoroughly devours her. The other has made its way back down her spine to below her waist, teasing at the seam of her underwear. She’s ready. If she weren’t already aware, the thin, soaked material between where she aches for him most and where he’s still, somehow, bound by the heavy fabric of his pants has made it undeniably clear that it’s time. So she reaches between them and determinedly sets about removing those final barriers, eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips as her fingers, nimble and quick in undoing the closure, graze the curve of his throbbing cock. His own hands make quick work of hooking under her panties and sliding them down her ass, and they’re so close - so close - that they both forego all delicacy. It’s a clumsy choreography, and they both land accidental kicks against the other in the process, but then finally the pants are gone, the underwear is gone - and they’re free. She was right about being born again. Marcus, naked, is a whole other creature from Marcus with all of his clothes, all of his armor on. But it’s not weakness or fragility that radiates from him as he lays back once more, the muscles in his arms rippling hypnotically beneath his skin. With nothing else to distract or shield, as raw and unadulterated as she believes anyone has ever seen him, Marcus Kane is courage - is strength - is kindness - is hope. She loves him in a way she never thought she could, again. She also loves him in a way that’s completely new and  exclusively his to claim. So she holds his gaze decisively as she straddles him, fighting against the blur in her vision that’s rapidly accumulating because she wants to see him when it happens - and then she begins to lower herself down. She’s excruciatingly tentative at first, giving her body a chance to reclaim the memory of that particular kind of pressure, and then her muscles obediently loosen, and he’s inside her. They both let out a long, shuddering breath, as though they’ve been holding it in for years. He doesn’t feel like Jake, but he does feel exquisitely like Marcus, and that’s more than enough for her. This is where she wants to spend the rest of her fleeting life, she thinks, as she begins slowly rolling her hips rhythmically in-tune with his exploratory thrusts; she wants to forever be this indivisible tandem force that they’ve grown to become in every other part of their lives and now have finally actualized on a tangible level. It feels like they’ve reached the summit of their growth towards each other, and can now see the endless miles of bright future that surround them. That belongs to them. It wouldn’t take much for that delusion to be dispelled - merely a casual glance outside the window would remind them that so little actually belongs to them, least of all the future. But their eyes stay on each other, and it’s here, revelling in this incredible thing between them that they’ve cultivated, that it begins to feel like maybe if they ask, if they work, if they fight for it - the impossible might just be possible after all. So they let themselves go, and they let themselves give in. She tries to steady herself by gripping the bars of the bed as she rides him, but she feels her muscles giving in to the mollifying warmth of pleasure as it blooms rapidly throughout her body; she’s too conquered by it to protest with any effectiveness when Marcus suddenly rolls them so that he’s once again on top. “Marcus!” is all she manages through stuttered breaths; but she’s already pinned, and the blankets are so welcoming, and he is so magnificent when he’s looking down at her like that. His thrusts gain speed, albeit a more irregular rhythm, and he has to bury his face in her neck to try to muffle his rasping groans. The silken sandpaper feel of his beard on that sensitive swath of skin, combined with the gasping, deliciously masculine sounds of a completely uninhibited Marcus Kane, is almost enough to send her over the edge.

Then she feels a hand wander along her side, down towards her stomach, and further between them still, until- “Oh.” His fingers find the little rosebud of nerves at her clit and begin rubbing tight, frantic little circles into it; and suddenly Abby is almost blinded by stars. She hears his voice, then - a hot flutter of warmth close against her ear in a register so low that it seems to send vibrations right down to where his hand is skilfully at work: “I’m close, Abby. God, I’m so close,” he mutters, and she can feel the truth of it in how tight his muscles are against her. And then, barely a whisper: “Come with me?” “Please,” she gasps, and wraps her legs around his waist to allow him deeper access. He drives into her, nearly bottoming out, and her fingernails almost break skin as she clings tightly to his shoulders. She can hear herself cry out as he thrusts once, twice, maybe three more times, his fingers never failing in their ministrations, and it almost doesn’t sound like her. Her gasps are high and girlish, in harmony with his low, gravelly grunts as their orgasms rise and begin to overtake them. She feels that heavy tightness begin in her stomach and begin to spread all the way out to her toes. Everything goes white, and she can feel the rush of him cumming inside her, and - his name is the last thing she’s able to shape her gasps into before she finally shudders with an all-consuming wave of release. He collapses into her. He’s all salt and sweat, and the heat radiating from his body into hers is almost suffocating as he catches his breath. She’s content to keep him here like this a little while longer, so she cradles him into her arms, gently stroking his hair as he comes down.   When he’s finally coherent enough, he gently removes himself, velvet softness where once there had been red-hot iron, from inside her, and rolls over to lay next to her. He’s smirking, almost laughing to himself, and she eyes him curiously through her daze. “What?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he rests on his elbow to face her. He affectionately brushes a sweat-slicked strand of hair away from her forehead, lets her silent curiosity rise almost to the point of frustration - she’s all but pouting before he finally responds, softly, with an infuriatingly impish little smile: “Does that answer your question?”