#i somehow kept my promise to myself to keep the background simple

[tribbles-the-lesbian]

I mean I guuueeeeesssss I’ll do a little update on my Tribbles-wip before I post the finished ~_~

⬆️these are the 2 gradients that I’ve been doing since the Frank&Eddie piece I did a bit ago. The colors for the colored one/not black&white gradient change for every piece since, ya know, different lighting and feeling(??)

I forgot to get a pic with just the shadows I did,, but oh well, guess you’ll have to wait •3•

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing

Master post here (includes character bios, summary, and chapter links)

Warnings: restraints, blood, cut, wounds, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee, captivity of sorts

“Welcome to Scutus, Halle Corvus,” Samuel Rex, spokesman of Scutus, said, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity,” Halle said enthusiastically. Halle had always wanted to make a difference with her life. She knew that Scutus—with their unprecedented efforts to keep the world safe—was the best way to do so. Though she had limited military training, and absolutely no background in technology management, somehow Halle had managed to get the job.

“Let me take you to your team. You’re going to be assigned to Alpha Team. They’re our most active. I’ll let Thomas Petri fill you in on your duties. He is your direct superior, team leader, and you are to report to him.”

“Understood. Thank you, Samuel.” Halle hurried along to follow Samuel. Though Samuel’s hair was grey and thinning, he was surprisingly spry for a man his age.

“There are several teams. But Alpha has the most unusual members. Ah, Thomas, there you are,” Samuel stopped in the hallway as he almost collided with a hulking figure. Thomas easily stood a head taller than Samuel. And a head and a half taller than Halle. He looked down at Halle with warm, dark eyes.

“You must be my new medic.”

Halle nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir! I won’t let you down.”

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. They’re in our portion of Tectus. What has Samuel told you about our team?” Thomas walked quickly. Halle had to half jog to keep up.

“That you are very active as a team. And that you have…” Halle’s voice trailed off. How would Thomas take to having his team called unusual?

“We have a pretty big team. I’ll introduce you to them all in time. But I have to warn you. We have something assigned to our unit that makes us indispensable. Your job will be to manage and take care of that thing.”

“I won’t let you down. I promise,” Halle said eagerly.

“Do you know what a living weapon is, Halle?” Thomas asked, completely ignoring Halle’s promises.

Halle stopped walking. A living weapon. She had heard of them of course. But never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever see one, let alone work with one. They were supposedly the most dangerous assets Scutus had at their disposal. Their enemies, of course, also had living weapons. A great number of them. Weapons were allegedly easily corruptible. Weapons were typically very, very evil. They had to be kept under lock and key at all times. Halle nodded. “They’re a human, well they were human to start with. And they’ve been imbued with…”

“With powers that make them more dangerous than an army of regular soldiers.”

Halle swallowed. So it was true. Living weapons really could level a city by themselves.

“We have one. He’s called Dylan. Your job is simple, Halle. Keep Dylan alive. Patch him up when we bring him back. And keep him in his quarters. He isn’t to be trusted with any freedom. No matter how much he asks, you can never let him out of our quarters unsupervised. Do I make myself clear?”

Halle nodded.

“And, Halle, please remember he is dangerous. He is deadlier than any gun, knife, or projectile you will ever see. Please remember that.”

Halle nodded again and continued to follow Thomas. She half heartedly listened to Thomas introduce her to Alpha Team. Over a dozen names and faces to memorize. But none of them were the weapon. And Halle’s mind kept drifting to the weapon. What was he like? What were his powers? Would he hurt Halle? Would he try to escape and hurt the rest of the team?

After what felt like hours of introductions, but Halle realized it may have only been half an hour, Thomas was leading her away from the rest of the team. “Dylan’s room is down this hall. I hope you don’t mind, it’s where we had to put your room.” Thomas looked a touch embarrassed. “No one wants to stay down here near him. I’ve put in a work order to repurpose our library into a living quarters. Once that’s nearly ready we can convert your room to the library and then you can move. I’m sorry.”

No one even wanted to sleep near the weapon. How evil was he? “It’s ok. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Thank you.” Thomas knocked loud and hard on a door at the end of the hall.

“Dylan! Open up!” Thomas called gruffly. “You have a new keeper. Come meet her!”

The door swung open to reveal a small, spartan room. A bed was tucked into a corner, blanket neatly tucked in. A desk was not too far from there, a small stack of books and papers in the center. Halle could see a small balcony, opposite the door, that overlooked Tectus’s grounds. Halle swallowed as she realized the balcony was caged in. The other window had bars. There was no escaping this room.

Thomas strode into the center of the room and turned to face the door. “Dylan, meet Halle Corvus. Halle this is Dylan.”

Dylan leaned against the wall. His pale blonde hair curled softly at his collar and he watched Halle with icy blue eyes. He was tall and lean, though his build didn’t betray the power that lurked beneath. His clothes were plain—black shirt tucked into black pants, with black boots. The only thing adorning him were the silvery cuffs at his wrists—cuffs that Halle knew kept him from accessing his power.

“Nice to meet you, Halle,” Dylan said, his voice surprisingly soft. Halle fully expected his voice to be low, grating. She didn’t expect a soft, pleasant sounding voice.

Halle swallowed twice before replying. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted. Dylan you are to give Halle a run down of your medical history and what she may need to know to be better than your last keeper. Actually, you can also let her patch up that cut from our mission this morning. It’s a small one, Halle. Won’t take you that long. I’ll check back in with you, Halle, in,” Thomas looked at his watch, “an hour. I have a briefing with Delta Team to get to.”

Before Halle could protest, Thomas left. Halle stood in the center of the room, her heart in her throat. Thomas left her alone. With a living weapon. A being so dangerous he was kept in a room that was essentially a cage. And he had his powers suppressed at all times.

“Are you afraid of me?” Dylan asked quietly. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t attempted to get closer to Halle. Hadn’t tried to run out the door behind Thomas.

Halle licked her suddenly dry lips. “Yes.”

Dylan nodded. “Good. You should be.” He crossed the room and flopped onto his stomach on the bed. Halle could see a long, still bleeding cut, running the length of the weapon’s back from his left shoulder to his right hip.

The weapon propped his head up on his arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you unless Thomas tells me to.”

“Do you always do as Thomas asks?”

The weapon lay his cheek on his arm. “Yes. I am to always listen to Thomas.” The weapon sighed. “The last one didn’t last long. There’s no shame in quitting. I won’t blame you.”

“What?”

“My last keeper. He quit after three days. It’s ok if you are too scared. You can quit. Everyone does eventually.” The weapon seemed to say the last more to himself than Halle.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” If she got to work she could ignore the weapon and his ice cold eyes.

“In my med bay.”

“You have your own?” This unit was much fancier than Halle thought. Each member got their own private med bay. Just how large was this space?

The weapon closed his eyes as though he was suddenly very weary. “No one wanted to share with me.”

Halle was silent. What do you even say to that? She looked around for the door to the med bay.

“You don’t need to dress it, Halle. It will clot soon. Probably.”

“You’ll ruin your sheets.”

“Isn’t the first time. Won’t be the last time.”

Halle very much did not want to be alone in the room with the weapon any longer. But she had a job to do. So she crossed the room to a door that she thought might lead to another room. She was right. The med bay was well stocked. She grabbed some gauze and anti septic so she could dress the wound.

Halle worked in silence. And the weapon was silent. Halle expected him to fill Halle in on his medical history while she worked. Expected him to say anything. But the weapon merely lay there and let Halle clean and dress the wound. “I don’t think it needs stitches. But I could glue it if—“

“It’s fine, Halle.” The weapon pulled his shirt off and over his head. His back and chest were littered with scars, some older, some newer. “Here’s my medical history. I can’t get sick. I can’t remember if I did before…before I came here.”

Halle marveled at the scars. How was the weapon still alive? Some of them were serious, grievous wounds. “Anything else I should know?”

The weapon shook his head. He opened another door to reveal a small closet. He tossed the soiled shirt into a bin. He pulled another shirt from the drawer and put it on. “I am glad to meet you, Halle. No matter how long you stay here.”

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

@seysposts @cosmic-butterflys @wormjerky @godnessofmagic

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@xo7-parad0x @whumpandcomfort @kazekunai @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe @soul-of-a-local-bard

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@whump-a-bear-workshop @sizzlingtigerwerewolf @urmum-11 @velcrostrip @rattypop

@lexiebiss-blog @whumplump @geozone430

[darthkruge]

Okay okay okay so imagine Reader is abducted by the separatists because she ( or nb reader ) is a very well loved member of the senate. So obviously Anakin goes to save her, but his idiot plan gets him captured as well so then it's up to Reader to talk her way out of this mess, get to her idiot boyfriend, free him and then both of them try to make it out alive. Bonus points for Obi-Wan looking very tired and sick of Anakin's ideas in the background. What do you think?

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader ~ Rescue Operations?

Summary: After the Reader is captured by the Separatists, Anakin rushes to save her. When this doesn’t work out, the Reader has to get her and her boyfriend out of this mess. 

Warnings: Language, whump, one scene where the Reader gets beat up, Reader is a badass, Anakin is completely in love with his badass girlfriend and we love that for him

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Catherine, my love!! I’m sorry this took me so long, I have nothing to say for myself other than my poor organization skills. But I’m obsessed with this request, I hope I did it justice <3

gif credit (x)

You groaned as you opened your eyes and attempted to shake the drowsiness that seemed to cling to your very bones. You blinked, trying to get your bearings and remember what had happened. You were preparing for your speech at the Senate, trying to pass a peace treaty between the Republic and some smaller territories that were debating joining the fight against the Separatists. You’d been fighting for support for the treaty for months and you finally had the chance to give one last speech before the vote. 

You’d been pacing in your Coruscant apartment, practicing the speech for your boyfriend a million times. After you finished your recitation, you exited the room, needing to get your notes that you’d seemed to misplace. So you went into your office and… nothing.

Why couldn’t you remember after that?! You opened the door to your office, walked inside, and… 

You sighed as you came back to the present, leaning against the wall behind you and looking around. You were clearly in a cell of some sort and the Separatists were almost certainly behind this. You were still in your Senate attire, although it had been thoroughly scuffed up, and they’d taken your datapad and other communication devices. You felt around your boot and smiled. Your knife was still there. They must have assumed you wouldn’t be carrying a weapon to your speech and not done a thorough enough check. Whatever the reason, you were thanking the Maker it was still there. 

Back in Coruscant, Anakin was walking the Temple halls in a crazed state. When you didn’t show up for your speech, he immediately panicked. He knew how important this treaty was for you and the entire Republic; you’d been going over it for forever and there is no way you’d just blow it off without telling anyone. The rest of the Senate was also concerned. You’d grown up in one of the poorer districts and, thus, had a sense of relatability and humility that most were drawn to. Whether or not they agreed with your policies, almost everyone could understand that you always kept the interest of the people at the forefront of your mind. 

When Obi-Wan walked up to him with a ripped piece of your clothes and your scattered and crumpled notes, Anakin felt his heart drop. 

“It was the Separatists. They must have knocked her out in her office and escaped through the vents.”

Upon seeing his absolutely heartbroken expression, Obi-Wan added, “We’ll get her back, Anakin. I promise.”

Anakin could only nod, ideas for a plan to save you already running round his head. 

You’d been in this kriffing cell for four days now. Or maybe it was five? You were desperately trying to keep your wits about you but it was so hard; they brought you a tiny ration of food and water once a day and it was not near enough to keep your strength up. You’d spent your time trying to carve your way through the bars but your knife was no match and you quickly gave up, not wanting to dull the blade. You’d found a loose brick hidden around the floor and used the knife to cut it out, allowing you to hide your weapon under it on the off chance they searched you again. 

You tried to think of a plan to escape but they hadn’t even opened your door yet. There was no way you could get out by yourself and, until someone came in that you could attack, it was pointless to even try. They kept you in complete darkness and silence, no way to tell how much time had passed aside from the daily rations. You assumed you were on a Separatist base but that proved unhelpful; they were widespread and the cell held no defining features of climate or location. You had tried calling out to see if anyone else was around. Each time, you were met with your own echo. 

You stilled, hearing footsteps approach you. A Separatist guard opened your cell door, roughly pulling you out. You yelped, legs not cooperating after so long of sitting in the cramped cell. He led you into another room that was barely brighter than your own. Sizing up the guard, you felt fear creep in. No matter how hard you tried to banish your anxieties, knowing they’d only serve to lessen your already shaken focus, it was sometimes impossible. 

“Tell us which planets are deserting.” He commanded.

You met his stare evenly, refusing to let your fear betray you. There was absolutely no chance you’d tell him anything. As soon as the Separatists learned which planets were thinking about joining the Republic, they’d send armies to wipe them out immediately. You refused to let that happen.

“Fine. Be that way.” The man pulled his fist back and sent it into your cheek, the impact sending sparks of pain throughout your entire body. He brought his foot up, kicking you in the gut and you fell harshly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hair, hoisting up your body as if it were a ragdoll. You gathered your strength and spit in his face, enjoying the way his smug look disappeared. In retaliation, he slammed you into the wall, the impact making stars cloud your vision. 

The man released you and you fell, your consciousness already starting to detach from your body. You tried to reason with yourself, hoping logic would aid you. This is a trauma response. I’m not going to die. My body can take this. I will black out, but I will wake up again. They’re not going to kill me. They need me alive. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. Somehow, the hardest part is this was banishing the thoughts of that beautiful boy from your head. You knew that if you allowed yourself to think of him, to fathom how he would blame himself should this be your end, you would give in. 

Instead, you focussed on the physical pain you felt, on the rage you channeled to this guard. You hated how weak you felt, how exhausted you were. You allowed your mind to hone in on all the ways you could hurt this man, given you had your full strength. You let yourself hate yourself, appalled at how you couldn’t even fight back. With every punch he threw at you, you went further into your head, into the one place this man couldn’t touch. Eventually, your mind started spinning from dehydration, pain, and overexertion. All you could do was curl into a fetal position and hope it somehow stopped. 

“What do you mean you’re going to find her?” Obi-Wan said, running after Anakin.

“It’s been days, Obi-Wan, days. There are only so many Separatist bases in the galaxy and Y/N’s on one of them.”

“Anakin, don’t you think they’ve planned for a rescue mission?! This is Senator L/N we’re talking about! And they took her right before the vote, this was clearly a thought-out attack, stop acting like it’s simple!”

“It is simple! Those Separatist assholes have Y/N. And it’s been days. What if she thinks we forgot about her? What if she thinks we’ve given up? They could be doing fucking anything to her and I’m not going to let her stay there for another minute!”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began but Anakin waved him off.

“I’m sorry, Master. But if the Council won’t do anything, I will.”

“Anakin, the Council is trying! They just don’t have enough troops right now to send a full rescue mission after one Senator. They just want a few more days, then some troops should be back from their missions and you can have your full battalion.” Obi-Wan took a breath and lowered his voice, empathy for his friend clear in his words. “I know you love her. I want her back, too, you know. I’ve grown quite fond of her; her friendship is quite dear to me. All I’m asking is you be careful and think this through.”

“Believe me, I have thought this through. I wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger, we both know that. And while a few days doesn’t seem like much to the Council, we’ve seen the harm these Separatists can inflict in far less. Listen, it might not be the strongest plan I’ve ever made but, if it’s between a semi-formed plan and none at all, the choice is already made.”

With that, Anakin jumped into his ship and took off into the night. Obi-Wan sighed, leaning his head into his palm. He knew how much you meant to him and he knew of Anakin’s frustration with the Council. They moved slowly, wanting to figure out every angle before jumping into a decision. While Anakin was a brilliant strategist, he tended to act impulsively when someone he loved was in danger. As Anakin traveled further and further from Coruscant, the older Jedi could only hope that the both of you returned home quickly and safely. 

Anakin looked at his ship’s display and cursed when he realized he was low on fuel. He’d been piloting for hours and there was still no sign of you. He was searching out for you with the Force and, still, nothing. Finally, he felt a faint energy pulse through the Force. He followed it to what was supposed to be an old abandoned Separatist base, concerned by how weak your lifeforce felt. 

He parked the ship and got out carefully, trying not to alert anyone to his presence. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it. He saw an open door and ran through it, relief blinding him as he felt your energy grow stronger with each step he took. He turned the corner and saw a crumpled body on the floor of a tiny cell.

No, Anakin thought, it can’t be her. 

Without thinking, Anakin ignited his lightsaber, wanting to use the light to discern if the figure was truly you. The noise bounced off the walls and startled you awake. He mentally cursed himself and instinctively turned off the saber, not missing the even louder noise it made with it turned off. He inwardly facepalmed, realizing if he hadn’t alerted the guards before, they sure as hell knew now. 

You blinked groggily, wincing at your immense injuries and bruises. You remembered passing out while that asshole beat you and now you-

Wait, You thought, is that a fucking lightsaber?

You knew you must have heard it wrong, there’s no way the Council would have approved a relief mission this quickly. Further, there is no way it would consist of just one Jedi. 

Suddenly, the lightsaber re-lit, illuminating your boyfriend’s face. His determined expression grew stronger as he noticed the 10 guards surrounding him and pointing their blasters directly at his head. You smiled. He could take out ten guards with his eyes closed. You called to him in shock, hardly believing your eyes. He looked at you and immediately widened his eyes as he saw a guard come up behind you and point a blaster directly at you from outside your cell. 

“Lightsaber on the floor, Jedi, or the girl dies.” The guard growled. 

He looked at you in anguish and you could tell he was already beating himself up for “messing up” your escape plan. You shook your head, hoping he understood your message: this isn’t your fault. 

“Anakin don’t-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before his weapon was on the floor. He put his hands on his head. As they grabbed him, you stood in helpless silence as they threw him in the cell beside you. They locked the doors and, once again, you were in darkness. 

You desperately crawled to the edge of your cell, trying to reach out to him. He was doing the same and when you felt his fingertips against yours, you almost started sobbing. You weren’t alone anymore.

“You came for me.” Your voice was soft, disbelief lacing your words. 

“Of course I did, my love.”

Then, as if everything finally registered in your brain, you reached out and tried to slap his arm. “Anakin, what about the Council? They’ll kill you when they realize you went on a rescue mission, alone, and without approval! Ani, the only thing keeping me going in here was knowing that you were safe! And now you’ve gotten yourself thrown right next to me, no weapons, no light, no food, no water, no escape! What the fuck are we going to do?!”

Anakin had opened and closed his mouth multiple times throughout your speech, trying to find a way to plead his case but was left without one. 

“I just wanted to save you.” The grief in his voice made you sigh and take a step back. This was your Anakin you were talking about. Your safety was his priority, always. Besides, doing all this because he was afraid for you? You couldn’t possibly stay mad. You smiled, despite yourself. Anakin. You thought, slightly shaking your head. 

“Fuck, I love you. Is it selfish that there’s a small part of me that’s glad you’re here with me?” You said, breaking the silence. 

Anakin breathed out a sigh of relief, glad you weren’t upset with him anymore. “Not at all, my love. So long as it isn’t bad that my least favorite part of this is not being able to see or kiss you properly because of this damn darkness.”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers with his once again. “You wouldn’t want to see me right now.”

Anakin froze. “Y/N? What are you talking about?” His voice was serious, clipped. He knew you would try and make it seem less than it was. You winced, realizing there was no way to lie your way out of this one.

“Just what the Separatists would call aggressive negotiations, I presume.”

“How bad?”

“It’s fine, Ani, I promise. Let’s just focus on getting out of here, okay?”

Anakin took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Alright. But as soon as we get back you’re going to a medical droid.”

You groaned. “Anakin I hate-”

“I know you hate the medical droids. But that’s only because they always rat you out when you try and lie to me about the extensiveness of your injuries.”

“You lie about how bad your injuries are, too! Remember that one time you came back from Kamino?!”

Anakin laughed, despite himself. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You were literally bleeding from the head! And you said, and I quote, ‘it’s just a scratch’” Every time you thought back to that day, you were incredulous. 

“Alright, alright! Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“That’s my line!”

“Y/N,” He warned.

You smiled. Maker, you missed him. You honestly didn’t think that anyone else would have you laughing while you were beaten and captured. 

“Okay. What’s the plan?” Anakin said, back to the matter at hand.

You lowered your voice, leaning toward his cell so you could talk without being heard. “I snuck a knife in with me and I’ve been able to keep it a secret. Now that you’re here, it might actually come in handy. The problem was that I couldn’t stab anyone because no one would come into the cell. I need you to get them here. Push them against the side of your cell, the one closest to me, and I’ll stab them. Then while they’re hurt, you run out, unlatch my cell, and we’ll go.”

“I’m dating a fucking genius!” You could just about hear the smile in his voice. 

You smirked. All things considered, you were pretty proud of yourself. 

“When do you want to do this?”

“They bring daily food and water rations in the morning, I think? I can’t exactly tell what time it is, they’ve kept it so dark and isolated. Regardless, the next time they come by I need you to get them in here. They normally just leave the food outside and push it under the door.”

Anakin could hear the disorientation in your words and wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, to be able to hold you and reassure you that it would all be alright. 

“Okay, angel. Got it.”

“Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming to get me. It’s really good to hear your voice.”

“Always, my love.”

Both of you silenced when you heard those footsteps. You smiled for the first time as you heard them. We’re going to get out of here.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Y/N! This brick in here is loose!” Anakin announced loudly. You bit your cheek to suppress a smile as you watched Anakin catch the guard’s attention.

“What did you say, Jedi?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anakin responded, dramatically feigning innocence. 

The guard huffed and you internally cheered as he roughly opened the door. He walked over to your boyfriend, keeping the blaster pointed at him. As soon as the guard’s attention shifted to the “loose” brick, Anakin used the force to knock the blaster out of his hand and push him against the wall of the cell where you slashed his Achilles tendons. 

The guard howled in pain and you knew you had to work quickly if you were to get out of here before the rest of the Separatists found you. Anakin fumbled with the latch on your cell, the immense darkness making it difficult. Finally, he got it open and ushered you out. The both of you took off in a run and he gripped your hand with his metal one as you did so. 

You immediately stopped as you felt his hand roughly pulled from yours. 

“We’ve got you now, Skywalker” The guard said.

“Y/N, you ready?”

You blinked, unsure what he was referring to. Then, you heard an object whipping through the air and on instinct shot your hand out, catching it. You ignited Anakin’s lightsaber that he had summoned to you with the Force, it’s signature buzz making you feel powerful beyond words. 

The light caught you off guard and you squinted until your eyes adjusted. You saw Anakin held back by two guards. Hearing faint footsteps, you took off in a run. Anakin ducked as you swung wildly, hitting and taking out both guards.

“You done holding us up?” You said, extending your hand toward him once more and passing him his lightsaber. 

Anakin smiled, accepting it. “My sincerest apologies.” 

You both ran, hand-in-hand, until you finally made it to the exit.

“What?” You said, as Anakin stopped abruptly and looked at you, panicked. 

“The ship! It’s out of fuel!”

“It’s what?!”

“I-” Anakin and you stared at each other, flickers of doubt coming into your gaze. You can’t believe that you’d been able to escape for nothing. 

“Anakin! Y/N!”

You whipped your head around at the sound and were met with another ship a few meters down, Obi-Wan piloting it.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?” You and Anakin looked at each other in shock before taking off in a sprint, one guard now close behind you. 

He started shooting and Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, deflecting some of the shots. As he focused on that, you pulled your knife back out of your boot and sent it flying into the guard’s chest, effectively stopping his pursuit. 

Anakin smirked at you, awestruck. You shrugged before jumping into the ship, extending your arm to Anakin and helping to pull him up with you. You entered and immediately leaned against the wall of the ship, relief coursing through you. You laughed and Anakin joined in. He immediately pulled you into him, kissing you hard. 

He broke away from the kiss, looking at you with adoration. “You are a fucking badass!! You’ve never even held a lightsaber and between that and your fucking tiny knife you took out four guards!! I didn’t even get any! I’m not going to lie, Y/N, I’m a bit jealous.”

You laughed, leaning into him but wincing. As the adrenaline wore off, your pain was suddenly quite palpable. He noticed and pulled back, scanning your face and body. 

His smile fell as the extent of your injuries sunk in. Your busted cheek, scratched face, and ripped clothing that exposed some of your many bruises across your torso and limbs were overwhelming. 

“You kids alright in there?” Obi-Wan said, walking in from the cockpit. His smile died on his face as well as he took in your form.

“I’m alright, guys. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You said dismissively.

“That doesn’t look like nothing!” Anakin shot back. 

Obi-Wan looked at you apologetically. “Anakin’s right, Y/N. Please, rest. We’ll be back to Coruscant soon.” 

Coruscant! The Senate! “My speech!! Fuck, I had to present my speech! I’ve been gone, what, a week? They’ve probably already voted, Kriff.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “They decided to suspend the vote until you were back, Senator. They truly care for you and your policies.”

Your heart swelled at Obi-Wan’s words. You looked into Anakin’s eyes and saw that he agreed with the statement full heartedly. He took your hand and gently ran his thumb up and down its back. 

“Rest, my love.” He whispered to you, coaxing you to lie down on the coach and pulling off his Jedi cloak. He wrapped it around you as a makeshift blanket, smiling as you pulled it closer to you and drifted off. 

Obi-Wan walked up to Anakin and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave her be, okay?”

“I don’t want her to wake up when I’m not here.”

The elder Jedi nodded in understanding. “She’s exhausted, she won’t awaken until we get back to the temple, I assure you. And if she does, you’ll just be in the other room.”

Anakin looked at you once more before smoothing the hair back from your face and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. He let his palm run down your cheek before he finally pulled himself away and walked into the cockpit with Obi-Wan. 

“So, how did you plan pan out?”

Anakin looked at his former Master, unamused. “I think you already know. How’d you know to come get us, anyway?”

“Well, when you didn’t come back or even attempt to contact the Council for over a day I assumed something had happened. I tracked your ship.”

Anakin nodded. “If not for Y/N, we’d probably both be dead.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I heard! Four guards?! You’ve found yourself a good one.”

Anakin smiled. No words were needed, everyone knew that was completely and utterly true.

------

if you would like to join my taglist, it is linked on my pinned! please dm me if you would like to be taken off. if your username is crossed out, it is because, for some reason, i couldn’t tag you <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @astxrias @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker 

[twinrowcitizennews]

snapshot

Note from the editor:

This is the first letter of this nature that I’ve received from someone who wanted their question published. Other than editing for formatting and grammar, it’s in their own words and their own words alone. Please send an email or ask if you know how to solve their problem-- and quickly. 

I have to warn you, this letter isn’t for those who are put on edge easily. Reader discretion is advised. 

I don’t know if I’ll still be around by the time this is posted, but that doesn’t matter. So long as this reaches whoever might need it. 

I first saw it last October. The 27th, I think. Kind of cliché for this sort of thing to be happening right around Halloween, but truth is stranger than fiction. It was late in the evening, almost nighttime, when I saw this stray dog roaming around in my front yard. I grabbed my dog’s leash and went to get it, thinking I could keep it in my backyard until I could find the owners, but the second I left the front step, it started off towards the bike trail. I sped up to a jog and followed it, hoping not to scare it off any further. 

The bike trail veers away from the neighborhood and through this piece of undeveloped land that separates the suburbs from a nearby farm. The dog was mostly sticking to the path, moving along at a trot, stopping every once in a while to look over its shoulder and wag its tail, like it was waiting for me to catch up before starting off again. After a few minutes of this, I called for it-- tried to whistle, asked it to heel, etc. It came over when I pretended to have a treat in my hand, holding my fist out like there was something inside. When it leaned over to sniff, I clipped a leash on its collar, a simple fabric band without any tags or ID. I’d never seen the dog before, so I got out my phone and took a picture of it to post to the neighborhood Facebook page, asking if anyone knew its owner, before walking it back to my place and letting it out in the fenced back yard. After feeding my own dog, I sat down to check Facebook to see if there was any response. 

No one recognized the dog from the photo. One comment asked me who was standing in the background. 

There hadn’t been anyone else in the woods, as far as I remembered, but I double-checked the photo anyway. In the background, about 20 feet away, it looked like there was a figure-- vague, kind of person-shaped if you squinted-- standing just to the side of the bike path. It was all indistinct and fuzzy. Probably just a smudge on the lens. I responded to the comment before trying to clean off the lens on my shirt, then taking another photo down the hallway to see if the smudge was gone. There didn’t seem to be anything. The rest of the night was relatively normal. 

The next morning, I ended up trying to clear out my camera roll, to save some room for any pictures I might take of my baby cousins in their costumes. I deleted a bunch of screenshots, old photos, and the image of the dog, before going to delete the hallway picture. 

The smudge was still there. Like before, it was around 20 or so feet from where I’d been standing when I took the photo, around the size and height of a person. Unlike before, it was peering around the corner from the door to the bathroom. 

I was freaked out some, to be honest.  I scrubbed the lens down with a Lysol wipe and took another photo down the hallway, trying to prove to myself it was just some sort of shadow. Nothing that would show up in the daylight. And it didn’t-- nothing strange, no smudge, just a block of sunlight from the windows. I didn’t delete the picture from the night before, though. Just in case. 

It was a few more weeks before I took another nighttime photo. My cousins are too young to stay up late, so they’d been out trick-or-treating around 5:00 in the evening, back before it was even dark, so I didn’t really take anything on Halloween. The dog was returned to its owner a few days after, so nothing there, either. 

It was around the middle of November when I ended up catching it again. I was on a nighttime walk and passed the home of this older couple down the road who always put up their outdoor Christmas decorations about a month too early. I wanted to get a picture of the setup-- they had this new animatronic Santa, sitting on a throne and waving to the road. I can promise that no one else was in the yard. I used the flash (on accident, but still), and if someone was there, I would have seen them. When I got home, I sent the picture to a friend of mine for her to make fun of. She messaged back with a few laughing emojis before asking who took the photo.  

(ID: Two texts from my friend reading “lol” and “really who took it”. My response says “wdym?”. She responded with two texts saying “I see you in the background, genius” and “just vibing by the garage”. End ID.)

I checked the photo again. By the house’s garage, a little under 20 feet from where I’d been, was a clearer, more distinct figure. For once, I could make out its face. 

I don’t know who or what it is, or how it got there, but it definitely looked like me. It was even wearing my clothing, had its hair done the same way, everything. Just standing there and smiling for the photo, like someone just out of frame was telling it to say cheese, looking right into the camera. 

I immediately turned all the lights on that I could reach. I almost deleted the photo, staring at it for too long, before closing out of Photos and reopening my camera. I figured this had to be some weird hallucination or something I was making up, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. I aimed the camera down the hall and took a video. Nothing. I checked it, sliding the scrub bar back and forth to inspect each individual frame. All of them were just empty, illuminated hallway. That didn’t shake the feeling, though, so I turned the hall light off and tried again. Nothing showed up on this video, either. I took a photo. 

It was there. Again. It wasn’t peeking out from around anything, just standing in the middle of the hallway, the same distance it had been from the camera in the yard. 

I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. 

I ended up searching the internet as much as I could for anyone with similar experiences. I saw things about ghosts, things about illusions, things about solid doppelgangers that people saw with their own eyes and not through pictures, but nothing like this. Over the weeks and months that followed, I took investigating into my own hands. 

My fears were quieted some-- some-- when, after the first few nights, I realized that it wasn’t hurting me. It never even moved, staying in the same poses each night. The only change was, no matter where I was, inside or outside, it was always the same distance away.

I started taking pictures almost obsessively. Every day, every night, I tried something new. I tried every condition I could think of to see when and where this thing would show up. It became a part of my routine-- almost a companion. I’d even jokingly wish it goodnight. 

I could put walls between myself and it. At one point, I stood inside my closet and took a picture, only showing racks of coats and clothes. It could be seen through windows, if there was no room for it to appear indoors. I could take pictures out my bedroom window to show it standing right there outside the window on the front walk. It always looked exactly like me, down to the smallest detail, except for the face. It never had any expression other than a smile. No matter where I was, inside or outside, it could be there. I got pictures of it at home, at work, out of town. It never showed up in well-lit photos. Things in the dark with flash were okay, but it would just be a little indistinct. Dimmer lighting, pictures taken at night, all of that was free game. I never got a picture of it in daylight. 

Around February, I sat down and tried to sort all the successful photos into one album to clear up my camera roll. At this point, it was mostly just pictures of the thing, since I was sometimes taking up to dozens a night. I deleted all the failures, saving all the pictures of it into one album. That’s when I noticed.

It was getting closer.

I guess I had ignored it over the first months. It had been too gradual for me to notice, only an inch or two each night, but looking at all the photos in order, it was obvious. Instead of being around 20 feet away, the thing was closer to 15, still just standing and smiling.

I had to tell myself it was coincidence, or something I was imagining, or I think I would’ve done something I’d regret later just then. Now that I knew it could move, I didn’t really think of it as a friend anymore. 

I kept taking pictures throughout the following months. Only at night. It stopped showing up outside my bedroom window-- in retrospect, probably because the ground wasn’t close enough for it anymore. It stopped lurking at the end of the hallway, drawing nearer until it was standing right there in the living room. It started putting its hands against the glass of the kitchen windows. Then it started showing up at the kitchen table. 

I got desperate, some. I tried everything. I burned incense, I tried to talk to it, I bought fucking crystals. I’m an atheist, but I even considered calling a priest or something. All spring, I was constantly scrambling to find some way to get that thing to leave, or at least stop moving. Every night I took more pictures, too many, before scrolling through my photo album with a looming sense of dread. Nothing worked. It kept coming, slowly, always dressed like me and always doing that smile. It got close enough that I could see the whites of its eyes. I almost wish I could say that there was something messed up about it, something that made it obviously inhuman or dead or anything, but there wasn’t. It was just me, just exactly like me, and somehow that was worse. 

I’m sending this in now because it’s really close and I don’t know how to make it go away or if that’s even an option anymore. These past few nights, it’s been right in front of me-- I could reach out and touch it, if it was solid. Hell, I could probably feel its breath, if it had that. I’ve been taking pictures every hour or so, sometimes every couple of minutes.

Last night, around the fifth or sixth picture I took, it wasn’t there. Just gone. I took a few more pictures, and it didn’t matter where I was, it just wasn’t there. I don’t know why I did it, but I turned the camera around to selfie mode and took a shot. 

That thing was standing right behind me.

One of its hands was hovering right over my shoulder, like it was about to touch me. I freaked out and took another picture. It hadn’t moved more than a hair. I turned all the lights on and haven’t slept. 

I’m not sleeping tonight. I’m not turning any of the lights off. It can’t get to me if the lights are on, or I hope so. If anyone knows what to do or what this thing is, please respond. It might already be too late, but I don’t know what this thing will do or who it’ll go for when it’s done with me. I don’t have much advice to give, other than to sleep with the fucking lights on.

[flaminfogelman]

Unus Annus

Anyone who followed Mark, Amy, and Ethan’s project for any amount of time this year knows that last night, at exactly midnight, they kept their promise and deleted the channel after one year. We all knew it was coming and yet, even in those final moments, some of us had trouble accepting that it was coming to an end and I was in many ways, one of those fans.

I was shown Unus Annus by my girlfriend when their first video was uploaded. She knew I liked Markiplier and thought I’d be interested in what he and Ethan were doing, and I was, but I still wasn’t paying much attention to the channel at first. I was watching different types of content at the time, though I couldn’t tell you what that was now. When I did start watching, I remember that it was the YouTuber Hunger Games and YouTuber Boxing videos that initially pulled me in. Then I went back and saw a lot of the videos where they went out and tried things like getting pepper sprayed, getting attacked by an attack dog, gave Mark a viking funeral, ate fire, hunted ghosts, etc. I watched as they brought us to Camp Unus Annus and witnessed the Cryptid Olympics.

Two of my favorite videos were Mark and Ethan get into a Fight and Mark Reviews the Impossible Whopper but Doom Lurks in the Background. It was fun getting to see a choreographed fight scene and how Ethan looked incredible in the role of an action hero! The “kid’s” got talent. As for the Impossible Whopper review, it was fun to watch Mark struggle to stay calm and to see Ethan make a terrible deal that he could be shot with a paintball at any time for the rest of the year. What can I say? Sometimes the simple things are funniest.

While I enjoyed everything I was seeing, I know I was taking the channel for granted. Sure they said they were going to delete it, but who would want to delete their channel after it had been so successful like this? It may not have gotten 27 million subscribers overnight but 4 million is still a lot of people and beyond that, it got viewers talking. If MatPat is making theories about your channel and it’s non-existent lore, I’d say that’s a pretty good sign YouTube wise that your channel is making some sort of impact.

I think it really started to hit me in the last few weeks that the deletion was really happening and that it wasn’t just some gimmick. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t putting any stock in the theory that they would announce a sequel channel called Twonus Annus, but I think when you’re about to lose something or someone important to yourself and countless others, you slip into this spiral of denial about it. 

“I’ll have time to watch this Unus Annus video later,”

literally went through my head at one point, even though I knew that time was running out. Like I said though, denial. It makes you ignore all logic sometimes.

I tried to watch as many of their videos as I could during the beginning of he stream yesterday. I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. Unfortunately, I had to go to work, and I clocked off and got home at roughly 9pm.

There were only three hours left. Certainly not enough time to go back and watch everything, at this point, if I clicked another video I might miss something. I watched Ethan get his tattoo and Mark make the experience awkward (classic), I watched some of their videos with them, I watched Mark gift Ethan and Amy with the pocket watches, and I heard their sweet, teary eyed eulogies for each other. The whole thing was an experience and it tugged at the ol’ heart strings a bit.

I watched them hit that delete button and watched the fans say goodbye and somehow it still hadn’t quite hit me yet. I stared at the screen and told my girlfriend that I’d miss their videos, then I pulled up one of Jacksepticeye’s new Spiderman videos. It was a lot like the end of The Truman Show for a moment there. This channel that was huge part of everyone’s life just ended before my eyes and I was already onto the next video that another creator made because it still wasn’t quite sinking in. Maybe it was denial. Maybe regret for not watching everything while I could. Maybe I was even a bit upset that they were serious about deleting the channel and at myself for not downloading every video I could because that was what Mark and Ethan had asked of us, the fans. Mark even posed the question while being hypnotized; if we did download and keep every video they had made on Unus Annus, what then? And he’s right to question why we would do that because it’s not like we’d watch every video every day until we died. There’s always new content and we would definitely start moving on to these new videos and new creators. Even if we did keep all of the videos, we would move on at some point, just like if your favorite tv show ends and you move onto the next one. It’s just how people are with media.

I think it started to hit when I realized that this was part of the experience, part of the lesson that Mark and Ethan had set out to teach. The end comes for us all and it leaves sadness in its wake. It leaves us with one less thing that made us happy on a day to day basis, even when we took that for granted. But another part of this lesson that they talked about, even if it isn’t a part we’re quite ready to accept yet, is that we still have those memories. Unus Annus is dead and gone but we can still recall the best moments and laugh about them with friends who shared our love for the channel or even home alone while our minds wander.

This year was the perfect year for Unus Annus in a way. I think we all needed the distraction from 2020 but we also needed the lessons that Mark, Ethan, and Amy taught us. This is what I take away from it personally. Nothing lasts forever. Death comes for us all, but we’ll still have the memories of those who have passed. Give your all to what you’re passionate about while you still can. Don’t lose hope. If I’m being honest, I don’t know where that last one came from. It’s just one of those underlying messages I guess. Unus Annus was unique but I honestly don’t know if it’s concept I’d want to see done again. I think the concept of deleting everything you did after one year should just be a one off thing that the YouTube community remembers as something that took it by storm because I truly believe that nobody could have done it better than Mark, Ethan, and Amy. It meant a lot to me and it meant a lot to everyone who watched. I will truly miss it, but I’m happy that I was a part of the experience, and even though it’s a bittersweet feeling, I’m happy that I was there at the end. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Memento Mori. Unus Annus.

[ronnie-azumane]

Kitten?

This is something I came up with at midnight while trying to complete my numerous missing assignments. I apologize in advance

Summary: Tsukishima Kei is a mod of a discord server And with his luck, he finds his first love on the server he runs. He falls head over heels, and vows to fulfill all her needs. However, not everything is what it seems.

Tsukishima was a simple man with simple likes. Granted, However, these likes weren’t as commonplace among his peers.

Sure, he moderated a Discord Server full of people of all ages. In said server, they would play games and talk about the various shows they watched together, some of which were considered children shows.

“Anyone catch the new episode of My Little Pony?” someone on the server would ask.

Tsukishima would bat in immediately, saying, “Remember the two-week spoiler warning, everything else must be covered and properly tagged.” He was the perfect mod, as he was both online all the time he didn’t have school or practice, as well as he was a stickler for the rules. Plus, he had only recently gained access to last week’s episode not long ago, therefore, he had not seen the new episode.

Another thing he liked to do on this server was talk to others on the voice call feature. He enjoyed talking to the many people who decided to join the server, even making a couple of friends, which he refused to believe for the longest time.

One of these many friends was a user that went by the name of gamergirl05. She was a peculiar person, only logging in late at night and logging out early in the morning, only to be away from her computer until late that night again.

She intrigued Tsukishima. Not only was she one of the only girls on the server, she always seemed to be on the voice chat. She never typed messages, never spoke, unless she was spoken to on the voice call. 

Her voice was soft and breathy, with a medium pitch. Her profile picture was a white cartoon cat against a pastel pink background. Sometimes, when playing videogames, you could here her grunt in frustration every once in a while.

Tsukishima couldn’t help from gaining a crush. 

She didn’t seem clingy, she seemed rather chill and independent, it was like God itself sent this woman into Tsukishima’s life. 

She was perfect.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but get excited whenever he saw that she was online. He would always join the voice call whenever he saw she was online.

They would have meaningful conversation. Tsukishima would learn much about her. She was living in Tokyo. She was a year older than Tsukishima; a second year in high school. She had been playing videogames for as long as she could remember. She has an overactive imagination, pretending that she was getting chased by dragons and facing checkpoints every time she walked to school in the morning. She wasn’t popular, but had a couple of close knit friends.

The more they talked, the more Tsukishima fell head over heels. However, the more he started to fall for her, the more he realized that he didn’t know how to express himself in a positive way. He was known as a negative nelly most of his life, with his relationship with the fellow members of the Karasuno volleyball club solidifying that feeling of disgust he felt toward others. Ever with his best friend Yamaguchi he was unable to show positive feelings toward, even though he didn’t feel anything negative toward his best friend.

Unknowing what to do, he looked up online ‘how to show someone you like them,’ only to come up with a website offering a free test to those wondering what their love language was. perfect.

Tsukishima took the test, answering each question as truthfully as he could, even asking his mom what she thought of him for one of the questions.

After thirty minutes of reading, understanding, and clicking, Tsukishima gat the result he was looking for- his love language.

His love language was gift-giving.

He knew exactly what to do at that point. 

Later that night, he stared at the voice call box, waiting for a certain someone to join the call. At 11:00pm on the dot, gamergirl05 joined the call. Tsukishima joined the call soon after.

“Um, hey, uh, how was your day?” Tsukishima asked her.

“My day? I guess it was okay,” she replied. Her voice was still light and breathy as usual. Not too high-pitched as to make Tsukishima believe that she was fake, and not to low to make her sound unattractive to him. The perfect voice for arguably the perfect human.

“Do you have Nitro by any chance?” Tsukishima asked her.

“No, I don’t see the benefit for paying for it myself,” she replied.

“If someone got it for you, would you use it?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“I-I Don’t mid gifting it to you, if you tell me your Venmo, Ill send the money right now!”

“Ok.” 

She read off a couple of letters and numbers, spelling out her Venmo for him to gift money to. Tsukishima used his mom’s credit card to send her over $50, with the unspoken promise of paying her back one day, even though she didn’t even know her youngest son stole her card.

They talked the rest of the night, until Tsukishima had to go to bed.

XxX

Tsukishima didn’t let up on his gifts to gamergirl05, or Cat as she started referring herself to. Anything she mentioned offhandedly form a new skin to a longing for a fast food meal, Tsukishima sent her the appropriate funds needed to retrieve that item. 

Each monetary gift he sent on Venmo was given a reply of the kissing face emoji.

Tsukishima was over the moon. Not only was he becoming better at volleyball every day after school, but he was also getting closer and closer to Cat. When he found out that he was going to Tokyo for a training camp, he excitedly went online that night to tell cat about how he was going to be in Tokyo and that maybe they could meet up.

“Sorry, but I have plans for that weekend,” Cat said. Tsukishima sighed, but figured as much. He was disappointed, but not surprised.

However, he picked himself up by the bootstraps and packed up his stuff to go to Tokyo for the training camp.

XxX

The weekend was tough. Karasuno faced loss after loss against the Tokyo powerhouse schools. However, the team had learned a lot about both themselves and their offensive and defensive power.

After a long weekend of training, all the guys were sore. All their muscles were aching and screaming, begging for some relief.  The coaches complied, supplying all the players with all the watermelon they could eat.

All the players gathered into groups, talking within each other’s friend groups. Tsukishima kept his distance from the others, with Yamaguchi joining in with them. They talked about various topics here and there, but nothing too serious.

Tsukishima was starting to zone out, thinking about Cat, and what she may or may not be doing. He hated to admit it, but he was head over heels in love, even though he had never seen Cat in a picture, much less in person.

While Tsukishima was zoning out, thinking of his unofficial lover, Hinata, Kenma, and Lev gathered nearby, talking loudly about who knows what. Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention, until the topic of discord came up. All his focus then went into listening in on this conversation.

“So you guys are on discord? What servers are you guys in?” Hinata asked.

“Not too many, I bet Kenma’s on a couple though,” Lev replied, only for Kenma to grunt in reply.

“Oh really! What servers are you on, Kenma?”

“Ehh, just a couple here and there. I frequent a My Little Pony server because a mod there gives me money a lot.”

Tsukishima felt a shock run throughout his body. A My Little Pony server? Maybe he was on the same server as him. He would never bring it up, but he was glad to know someone on the server; talking to 12-year-olds all day did get old.

“Wait, someone pays you to be on a My Little Pony server?” Lev asked.

“No, I think he is somehow attracted to me, every time I mention something I want, he sends me money.” Kenma replied, taking a massive bite out of his watermelon slice.

‘That’s kind of odd, who would give money like that to a guy like Kenma?’ Tsukishima thought.

“How did you do that, Kenma? I could sure use the extra cash,” Hinata asked.

“Well, Kuroo taught me to raise my voice like this to sound like some kind of gamer girl,” Kenma explained in a girly voice. Not too high to sound fake, not too low to sound unattractive. Perfect.

Just like Cat.

‘This has to be a coincidence, there’s no way that Kenma and Cat are the same person’ Tsukishima desperately thought. 

“Oh, do you guys want to be friends on Discord, so we can keep in contact?” Hinata asked.

“I guess. I’m gamergirl05#0000,” Kenma replied, essentially murdering Tsukishima with his response.

Tsukishima stood up from where he was sitting. Forgetting the fact that he was still supposed to be in a conversation with Yamaguchi, he left the area, trying to find a secluded area, eventually settling for a small ally in between two of the gyms.

Once making sure he couldn’t be seen, he let all his held-in emotions out. He screamed up to the sky as the threw his watermelon rind against the wall, watching it break into numerous pieces. 

“My Heart!” he screamed out, “I loved her!” He sank to the ground and let the tears flow. As he wailed out in despair, he covered his face with one hand while knocking his fist against the grass with his other.

Yamaguchi, who saw this all go down, ran up to go comfort his best friend. He didn’t know what was going on, other than the fact that his best friend was a mess on the floor.

How was Tsukishima going to tell his mom, who was already suspicious of him stealing her credit cards, that the money wasn’t being spent on her future Daughter in law? How was he going to log back in on the server, knowing he was cat fished?

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. All he knew at that moment was the soft an warm hand of Yamaguchi softly rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down.

[blah-de-blah-de-blah]

Some thoughts now I’ve finished What Happens On Tour

A while ago I read some advice from an author about what to do if your characters go off on their own paths and start to move away from what you’ve planned for them. Her advice? “Well, you must shut them up.”

Yeah, I wish I knew how to do that.

I can’t remember where or when the inspiration for What Happens On Tour came from. There’s a lot in there, including my own thoughts of “hey, if I had some, or any, musical talent I could have been a rock star”, but it’s an idea that developed over time. Two definite inspirations on it were The Law Of Gravitation (a music AU Doctor Who fic that starts about Bill and Heather but then grows to include just about everyone) and Mix The Bourgeoisie And The Rebel (a Pitch Perfect Bechloe fic where they oscillate between together and not together a lot). Anyway, if you liked What Happens On Tour, then you might well like those too.

The basic idea of the story was simple - put them together in the band, then have them wanting to be together but not being able to because of how their previous relationships had messed up and this was their last chance - and in my head it was going to be roughly six or seven parts, around twenty thousand words or so. They’d meet, they’d pine, they’d hook up, they’d both think that the other thought it was a bad idea, they’d try to keep apart but end up hooking up again, repeat a bit and then they finally get together, announce it in public, everyone’s happy, fun little epilogue, the end.

Best laid plans, eh? Even the epilogue’s changed - I started writing the one I’d had in my head since beginning this, and it just didn’t feel right. As another example, in the rough version I had in my head, chapter one was going to end with Clarke and Lexa waking up together hungover on the couch, a point they eventually reached at the end of chapter six.

There’s always a gap between the story in your head and the story you end up writing, and more often than not it’s because the characters you create refuse to jump through the hoops you’re setting up. I ended up writing more about them because I wanted to know more and explore more of them, but the more I did that the more it took them away from the characters who would have been fine for the more light and breezy version of the story that I’d begun with the intention of writing. They were still following my plan, but much more slowly than I expected and building a much deeper connection. This meant that when they finally got together - in chapter twenty of my initial six or seven - the idea that they’d stay apart because of bad communication just didn’t feel right. I’d thought I could get back to something like the original plan, but any time I tried to write an end to the next chapter where they didn’t talk about it just didn’t feel right. They wouldn’t avoid it, and once they actually talked it over in chapter twenty-two, I realised they weren’t going to keep themselves apart and I didn’t want to write a story where I’d contrive some external forces that would somehow keep them apart.

Looking back over some of it and I think the key line for me in realising that the story wasn’t quite what I’d thought it would be was Clarke’s “when it feels so good you’ll wade through rivers of shit to feel like that” in the very first chapter. That line came out and I realised I knew her and what she’d gone through, and it was a lot more than I thought it would be. I could have deleted it, but something light and breezy in there instead, but it wouldn’t have felt honest. Some people might be able to get their characters to shut up. It seems I’m not one of them. This has become the longest thing I’ve ever written, though I have done stuff getting towards the same length, but it’s been the first thing I’ve written that’s completely driven by character and relationships like this. Other stuff has been in the mould of the old pulp writer’s adage: if you don’t know what to do next, have someone walk in the door with a gun. Because this story was about the characters, I tried to avoid that - and there are definitely no guns in this story - by not throwing random events at them. I.ve been learning along the way but I think I’ve generally kept things in some sort of continuity (the one thing that niggles at me is something Raven does in the first chapter that doesn’t quite fit with how she’s described later, which I doubt anyone else has even noticed) and actually developed the characters. There are things I’d do differently if I was writing it again (starting with the title, which would be Teach Me To Let Go Of My Fears) but I’m generally happy with the way it turned out.

That said, there’s been that interesting pressure of knowing people are waiting for the next chapter to keep me going. I’ve got a lot of stories on my hard drive that I’ve started and then “paused” on half way through to go back and fix things which have never been finished. With this, I just had to strap myself in and keep going to the finish, hoping I would work out. And it did!

The one thing I didn’t do which I partly regret, and people have asked about in the comments, is putting any Raven/Anya relationship stuff in there. I had thought about doing it when I started off but never could find the right time to put a focus on them, especially when I was sticking to my rule of only using Clarke and Lexa as the viewpoint characters. Like I said, first time doing a story like this and managing one relationship was tough enough. That said, I’m fully in agreement with the death of the author and I haven’t put anything in there that explicitly contradicts whatever ideas you might have about what they’re doing in the background. And they will definitely be a feature in at least one of the next stories I’m planning.

Octavia and Lincoln was easier because they were together when she came into the story and the increasingly rough plan I had of where this was going had their engagement and wedding as points in the story. Fun fact: in the extended series of hookups version, that conversation with Bellamy at the wedding would have been the key for Clarke realising she wanted more with Lexa. (Asks are open for any other questions you might have about alternatives, or anything else) Overall, I’ve really enjoyed writing this story and it’s been a real light for me in a pretty dark time for all of us. I’m still amazed that so many people have read it, liked it and wanted more of it, so thank you all for following me on this journey. There are definitely more stories to come from me, so watch this space. There might even be some one-shot follow-ups to this in the future - I’m not promising anything, but I have vague ideas floating around, and I might sometime get the inspiration to turn one of them into a full story.

For now, I’m going to split my attention between two projects (and, you know, the rest of my life). I’m going to go back to Running Back To You, which began as a Clexa Week one-shot, but I’ve now got ideas for taking it forward, even if I don’t quite know where it’s going. My idea there is to balance the quite heavy Clexa story there with a lighter one of Raven and Anya (and where they have their own story, not just a pair the spares). The other is much more action-oriented, as it’s the Highlander fusion plot that dropped into my head. I’ve got a plot for it that’s not just rehashing the film, but I need to work some more on the outline before I start to post it, because I need to get the pacing right before the whole thing turns into a mess.

But all that is for the future, and I hope some of you stick around to read them if and when they appear. Until then, thank you all for reading and everything else that kept me going and for the past six months of writing, it’s been a fantastic experience for me, and I hope you enjoyed the ride.

[p1nkwitch]

Even though it's still ongoing some director cut funfacts about lost prince fantasy au? 👀

(I have finally some free time tonight so hopefully I will catch up with it and some other fic of yours)

Ohh hopefully i get to see your comments on some of the new stories then.

Mm, ok, funfacts without spoilers.

Again, i planned the end first so i have a fairly good idea of where im headed, there is a possible bad ending however unlike the Heart Machinations one.

Originally i pictured the story with Jonah instead of Elias due to a plot point at the end. But i ended up scrapping it, because i figured another way to go at it instead, that would also work.

I have a chapter in the freezer waiting to be put out, unfortunately its like the biggest spoiler and i have to put it almost at the end, which is ironic because its literally my favourite one from someone elses perspective that is not Peter or Elias. Its the actual backbone of the story in a way, without it there is no plot. Unfortunately i need to wait or else i would ruin a surprise.

I wrote i think the first 8 chapters in like 3 days. Because i originally wanted to write the entire thing in one go and publish it all in one day. Just dump the entire thing one night like nothing and wait in the morning for the chaos.

Its not the first time i have wanted to do that. It wont be the last, i just find the idea o writing a long story and just randomly drop the entire thing without explanation hilarious for some reason. I dont do it because i will get so very little comments that the effort would be for nothing. But honestly? One day i might just do it for the hell of it. My brand of chaos is weird i know.

I started this before the ending of Tma and i had a plan for something that was happening in the background. But due to my now anger at a certain character actions that happened there i decided to change it, i mentioned in one of the end notes in a chapter i think that i was going to change a few ships in the background due to it. It doesnt involve Peter/Elias, but i was going to play the story in a different manner.

Im considering doing something evil, but again its fueled by my own frustration with the ending. I will see if i end up doing it or not, maybe i calm down by then.

I briefly considered to keep the story more or less a paralell to Heart Machinations, since as i said Elias was doing his own prince Au thing. But it wouldnt be sustainable in the long run if i wanted to explore some different characters and relationships. So this is an Au based on the idea, but not connected. Sorry if that dissapoints, but i would have caged myself if it kept it like that. I did however use characters from there, like Titania and Missy, plus a few relationships. I will make more nods to that in the story of course in future chapters.

Mm, what else. Oh, well i have decided to let them be soft and fall into all the typical romance tropes, because in my head, they are living a fantasy romance with the ocasional horror. Thats why im leaning more into them being idiots and soft. Also i really love the sharing the bed trope so much while they are both dumb and dont realize they are catching feelings.

Speaking of wich!! Something you point out that i find funny is that Peter realized it first this time. Here is the thing, i find there is a difference between having a crush and realizing you are in love with someone.

Peter can have a crush but not be in love. Yet.

Same with Elias who admits to find him atractive, neither think its love, but rather regular atraction. When they do figure out that its love, oh boy.

Peter will be the slow one in that scenario i assure you. Again i already have planned the scene for Elias a while now, thats why i want to move the plot forwards now, but i got stuck in the chapter im writing cause i need several things to happen in quick sucession, however i cant think of how to put it.

mmm favourite scene to write was Peter alone in the ship. Him just slowly losing time and becoming isolated due the magic and curse? Plus the Sirens trying to catch him with promises of Elias? Cheff kiss.

Also i really, really wanted to make the sex dungeon joke. It was the best shot i had for that.

Ah! Elias staying with Annabelle was going to be a little bit more fucked up, with the whole spiders and mind control, but since i decided this world was not going to be that dark, i simplified it. If heart Machinations was inspired by portal, Prince Au was inspired by tangled. Both with their own doses of horror included per Tma normal rules.

The chapter with Simon explains actually a lot of things that i have left vague across the fic, no one pointed out the actual conection, but its ok, i think it will be funny when i actually go and say what the deal it.

The curse and the prophecy. With the first i had to struggle to think of what exactly were the used words for it, since as established the Fairies words are law. Once i figured the why’s and the how, it bacame obvious the way things would progress. Its.. not hard to break, but also not as simple as you may think. There is a reason why the Lukas never managed in 200 years.

The prophecy on the other hand, oh boy, thats fun. The non spoiler way to describe this is that i wanted to do a joke, but somehow everyone managed to miss the punchline. Now i realize it might have been my own fault for playing the long game, but honestly? Im just looking at my screen waiting to actually explain it and see everyone be like OH MY GOD IT WAS THAT SIMPLE???

I think thats like everything ii can think of now? Like if you have an actual thing you would like me to clarifie send another ask. I have fun explaining stuff. Unfortunately i cant go deeper than with the other stories since i would spoil the plot but yeah!! I hope this was good enough?

Again sorry if i go in tangents, i have thoughts about what im writing and im very clumsy with how to say it.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.

Chapter 28

"It's that doctor. This was all him." I said as we ran.

"How do you know?" Sam asked.

I looked over to Steve but he was concentrating on where we were going.

"I just do. It's all way too coincidental. Everything that happened led to that doctor being alone with James." I explained.

My heart was pounding furiously as we ran around a corner. Steve slowed in front of us at the sight of a body on the floor.

"Help me" a voice croaked.

Steve slowly moved closer. In the next room bodies were all over the place. What the hell happened?

"Help" the voice croaked again.

I stepped around Steve to see the doctor on the floor. A red hot rage filled me instantly.

"Get up" Steve ordered.

Before the guy had a chance I grabbed his shirt jerking him to his feet. I slammed him hard into the wall.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Steve asked harshly from beside me.

The man smiled sinisterly.

"To see an empire fall." He spat.

I didn't even get to retort when Sam was suddenly slammed into the wall next to me. I jumped turning around. Steve tried to subdue Bucky but he swung hard.

"Shit" I breathed out.

I grabbed Sam trying to help him to his feet but he was out cold. The two super soldiers moved into the next room. All thoughts of the doctor flew out of my mind as I ran to catch up with my friends. When I reached them Bucky threw Steve door the elevator shaft.

"Steve!" I shouted making Bucky turn towards me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked him harshly.

"Stay out of my way doll." He snapped.

He wasn't Bucky. The look in his eyes was the same one as the first time Steve and I had seen him as the Winter Soldier. Somehow the switch got flipped again.

I chased after him. I couldn't let him disappear again. He didn't know what he was doing. He needed help.

I got down into the main lobby to find James in the middle of fighting several agents. None of them stood a chance against him.

"James!" I shouted trying to get his attention.

I ran towards him just as Tony came around the corner. A sonic wave hit me making me crumbled to my knees. My ears rang from it. I covered my eyes as a bright flash filled the room. When I could see and hear again Bucky had both Sharon and Nat on him. He knocked Sharon off then grabbed Nat by the throat. He slammed her on top a table.

"You could at least recognize me." Nat said through clenched teeth.

I stumbled to my feet as T'Challa jumped out kicking Bucky in the chest. I checked on Nat quickly as the two men started to fight. She was panting from lack of oxygen but otherwise okay.

Bucky knocked off T'Challa then ran up the stairs. I moved to follow him but someone grabbed my wrist pulling me back.

"You can't help him." Tony said sharply.

"I have to try." I said softly.

Tony tightened his hold on my wrist but I could still get out of it. I ripped my hand away from him. Bucky was no longer on the stairs. I turned and ran as quickly as I could. I followed my instincts running out the side door. A few feet in front of me James was running full speed. He shoved open a heavy metal door that led to a helicopter pad. He ripped something off the door of the helicopter then opened the door. I hurried to the other side doing the same and climbing inside.

"What the hell are you doing?" James asked harshly.

"If you're leaving then so am I." I told him.

"Are you out of your mind?" He glared at me.

"Better get going before we get caught again." I stated simply.

He growled but did as I said. He started flipping switches making the copter roar to life.

"I don't understand what you're doing." He said as he started to lift us off the pad.

"I've lost you too many times already. I'll be damned if I let it happen again." I said sternly.

The metal door leading to the pad flew open as Steve ran out. His eyes locked with both mine and Bucky's. He ran full speed then jumped grabbing hold of the helicopter. With his insane strength he kept us from getting too far. When Bucky tried to get him off Steve grabbed a hold of the edge of the pad.

"He can't seriously being doing this." I said in disbelief.

Bucky tried to make him let go but ended up crashing us into the pad.

"Shit! Hold on doll!" James shouted as we went down.

I closed my eyes for only a second. When I opened them we were falling into the water. I looked over to James to see blood trickling down the window his head was laying against.

"Jamie!" I shouted right before my head went under water.

I had to kick at my door a few times to get it open. When I got to Jamie's side Steve was already there ripping the door open. I helped him pull him out then drag him up to the surface. I gasped for air as soon as I could.

"Have you lost your mind?" Steve shouted at me as we swam to the shore.

I knew he was mad but he was scared more than anything. He could have just lost both his best friends in one moment. All I had selfishly thought about was James and how I couldn't loose him again.

"You scared the absolute hell out of me Willow." He chided as we drug James out of the water.

"I'm sorry" I said softly.

I fell to my knees next to Jamie. His chest was rising and falling normally which eased my worries a bit.

"What if you got killed? Did you even stop to think about me or Sam? What would we do without you?" Steve asked as he kneeled beside me.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I looked down at James.

"I couldn't risk loosing him again." I choked out.

Steve's arms were instantly around me. I cried harder the instant my head was against his chest.

"Cap!" Sam's voice brought me back to reality.

I quickly sat up wiping my eyes. I wasn't sure I could explain to Sam why I was crying. Steve knew me well enough to know why. I was overwhelmed. Too much going on around me and in my head.

"He still breathing?" Sam asked coming to a stop in front of us.

"That's not funny." I grumbled.

I didn't give Steve a chance to do anything. I bent down picking up Bucky's unconscious body. I positioned him over my shoulders so I held one arm and one leg to keep him in place.

"Willow I can carry him." Steve chided.

"So can I." I said simply.

Steve sighed but nodded. He knew I wasn't going to let him take James from me. I followed behind the two men towards our "getaway car". I chuckled to myself at the sight of the small dark blue beetle. Sam opened the door then moved up the seat so I could sit James in the back seat. I climbed in to sit next to him. The car ride was silent but the air was tense. I knew both men wanted to say something. Most likely two completely different things.

Steve pulled the car into an old run down warehouse. I pulled James out then carried him to the other side of the room where I gently sat him against the wall.

"Sam, give me a hand." Steve said.

I watched as Steve raised up part of an old wench then nodded for Sam to do something. I stepped forward when Sam grabbed Bucky's metal arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" I questioned harshly.

"When he wakes up he could still be the Winter Soldier. It's just a safety precaution." Steve told me.

I scoffed turning away as Steve tightened it down on his friend's arm. When he was done he excused himself out of the room.

"Care to explain why you ran off like that?" Sam asked quietly.

"I didn't want us to loose track of him again." I told him.

He sighed.

"Will, you promised to be honest with me." He said in exasperation.

"How can I be honest if I don't know what the hell is going on myself?" I asked a bit harsher than I meant to.

"What does that mean?" Sam questioned.

I was the one to sigh this time.

"Ever since we found him things have started to change. The more I talk to him. The longer I'm near him I can feel every emotion I use to have coming back to the surface. They're not just memories anymore." I explained softly.

I felt so bad. I didn't understand it at first. I thought I was just caring about him more because I could remember him. In reality, every second around him brought me closer to loving him again. I didn't want to hurt Sam. He was a great guy and he'd been there for me through so much since we met but I can't stop these feelings from resurfacing.

"You're falling in love with him again aren't you?" Sam asked.

"I don't know if you'd call it falling." I muttered.

"Willow" Sam huffed.

I walked over to Sam then leaned my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me as he rested his chin on top my head.

"Just give me some time to figure out exactly what I'm feeling. Please." I spoke into his chest.

I stepped back not paying much attention to the groaning behind me. Sam grabbed each side of my face then kissed me softly. Another groan behind me made Sam and I both turned around to see James awake and watching us with a look of either pain or disgust.

—

[izzy-b-hands]

Ink

Consider this like a future snapshot in the Get Down timeline, all the way up into current times. The reader (our same trans reader from You Send Me) has kept up the poly monogamous relationship with the band, as well as working as part of the road crew in addition to various freelance work in the downtime between tours. In this particular captured moment, it’s Roger to the rescue to give the reader a few moments of relaxation.

Also, written a bit because I’m in love with his tattoos, and would die to have a chance to talk ink and the stories behind them with him. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The agreement was fairly simple; Roger split his time as he wanted and as he was able between yourself and Sarina, more often with Sarina. It worked out well though, since you spent a great deal of your time on various tasks for your own career, writing for yourself and others and for the various freelance assignments you took on whenever Queen didn’t need you for tours.  

But on occasion, nights like tonight were good. 

Sarina had texted you to let you know he was on the way, but it was still faster than you expected that your doorbell rang. 

“You need a break,” he said as he walked inside, and took stock of your less-than-clean flat. “Have you done anything aside from work in the last few days?” 

You tried to casually tuck away the pile of first, second, third, and onwards handwritten drafts that were stacked messily on the floor near the couch. “Of course I have!” 

He gestured to the basket of clean laundry in the hall. “You do know laundry doesn’t count, right? That’s just different work.” 

“It’s necessary work, like the writing,” you protested weakly. 

“Right,” he said. “But have you sat down and done...nothing? Watched a show, taken a breath, relaxed?” 

You shrugged. “How important is that answer, really? How about I get us something to drink, and you sit down?” 

“With that, you made it even more important,” Roger replied. “What about food?” 

“No,” you muttered weakly, but he was already at the fridge. “In my defense, I have a lot of rice, and it has to be eaten up eventually...” 

“Dinner, a movie, and relaxing,” he said, shutting the fridge door, shaking his head at the lack of contents in it. “Those are your only goals for tonight, alright? No arguing with me.”

“I don’t argue,” you said. 

He smirked. “Really?” 

You opened your mouth, then paused. Any rebuttal was just that-arguing. And you truly didn’t want to argue with him. It wasn’t that relaxing sounded bad, but all the same, you had work to do, and the flat could seemingly never be clean enough-

His hands slipped to your waist and interrupted your train of thought. “You aren’t saying anything, but you’re doing it now, that thing. Where you want to argue, but you don’t, and there’s one hundred other ‘buts’ in your head, running at a million miles a minute. Let yourself stop for the night, take things one minute at a time.” 

You nodded, but he laughed. “Your laptop is still on, isn’t it?” 

“In my room. I’ve got I don’t know how many things open right now, for work, and then just for myself, and a coworker needed help on something and I couldn’t say no, you know how it is-” 

“Go turn it off,” he interrupted, and gave you the gentlest push towards your bedroom. “Go on. Then you come back out here, and we’re figuring out dinner. Actual dinner, real food, not rice and whatever sauce you’ve had in the cupboard for the last year.” 

“It was only six months old!” you shouted down the hall. “And I froze the left overs, so it lasts that long!” 

“You’re lucky you aren’t sick!” came his reply, and you knew he was at least slightly right. In theory, most things kept decently when frozen, but leftover sauces like alfredo maybe weren’t meant to be in that category. Or used with rice, for that matter. 

You saved your various drafts as quickly as you could, your laptop fans whining and hot to the touch, and attempted to spruce up your bedroom before heading back out to him. 

He had laid himself on your couch, the stack of drafts retrieved from where you had shoved them almost underneath it, a few pages of them in his hands. “These are good. Just because, or for something else?” 

“Someone else,” you said. “A commission that I’m behind on, actually. It needs work.” 

“I think maybe you need to take your eyes off of it for a few days,” he said. “Because to me, who has literally never seen it before, it’s good. And you know I don’t toss that out for everything.” 

You shrugged. “It’s getting there.” 

He sighed. “Come lay down. Come on, look at you. Tense as can be, tired. The world won’t end if you lay with me for the next ten minutes.” 

You settled down beside him on the couch, and tried to relax, to stop the constant running tally of things you needed to start, needed to finish, needed to fix so that they could be considered finished. 

“I can feel your heart speeding when you’re overthinking things,” he whispered. “Just a few seconds, for me. Think of nothing.” 

“I don’t think I can do that,” you admitted. 

“Then think of something other than work,” he said. “What about the last time all of us went to Japan, hm?” 

“That was nice,” you hummed. “Busy, but what tour isn’t?” 

He nodded. “In particular, I’m thinking of the afternoon you fell asleep in the garden of that house we rented. Do you remember that?” 

“Vaguely,” you smiled. “I was so out of it the rest of that night though. But it was a really good nap. Not too warm or too cold, and the rain...” 

“I won a decent amount off of Adam with that,” he chuckled. “He was so sure the rain would be the thing to wake you up. I told him that was a bad bet to make; he was so confident though...ah well. He’s learned now, hasn’t he?” 

“That I can sleep anywhere if I’m tired enough?” you asked, fighting to keep your eyes open. 

“Yeah,” Roger smiled as your fingers traced the lines of the tattoo on his arm. “Speaking of...what��s a round estimate of the hours you’ve slept in the last week? Fully slept, I mean, not interrupted by work or anything else.” 

You held up a hand.

“Five?” 

“Give or take a few,” you mumbled. 

“Jesus,” he sighed. “You know, you can sleep now. Dinner can wait.” 

“But you’re probably hungry, and if you give me a minute-” 

He shushed you, and his other hand dropped over your eyes. “Rest, old man.” 

“I’m not old,” you protested. “I’m younger than you by a bit, and you aren’t old.” 

“I’m not old?” he laughed. “I’m certainly not young.” 

“You’re always young to me,” you murmured. “All of you. Freddie and Jim too, if they were still here. Young and ready to get into trouble. Just because your hair has gone white or gray, doesn’t matter. All I see are those young men, somehow made of boundless energy and talent and intelligence, who I could keep up with on a good day if I made an effort.” 

“That makes you young then too,” Roger said decisively after a moment. “Family might argue with us some on this-” 

“Young people that haven’t gotten old enough to understand this yet,” you interrupted. “They’ll learn.” 

“You say that,” Roger said, and you felt him slip his arm from under your neck as he got off the couch. “And yet you still don’t eat enough, or sleep enough, or take enough breaks.” 

“I’ll learn eventually too,” you muttered, eyes still shut, aching back curled against the couch to fill the open space he left. “Are you coming back? I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t come back.” 

“I think you’ll be able to,” Roger said. “But yes, I will.” 

---

He didn’t keep his promise, but the scent of warm food made you forgive him. 

“I thought this might be a decent alarm clock,” he said, helping you up off the couch despite your protests. “Pizza, because then I know you’ll have leftovers to eat for the next few days.” 

“If you send Sarina over here with food-” 

“I don’t send her, she sends herself,” he said. “You know that. Like it or not, everyone keeps their eye on you when they can. Hell, if I sent a group message out to everyone now, you’d probably end up with food for weeks.” 

“Oh lord, please don’t,” you said. “It would be very sweet, don’t get me wrong-” 

“I know, I know,” he interrupted. “But then they’d worry over you and you don’t like it when people worry over you. I won’t, but you might get another pizza sent to you randomly next week.” 

“Randomly? And anonymously too, I’m sure?” 

“Well I don’t know if Brian would tell you or not that he was doing it, but he might, if only to tell you that I told him to send you one,” Roger grinned. 

You shook your head. “You’re all ridiculous, you know that?” 

“Ridiculous out of care for you,” he replied. “And there’s nothing you can do about it!” 

The to do list that had been wracking your brain slowly melted away as you ate, and if he had asked, you would have had to admit that you did need this. To have someone dear to you there, with good food and time to rest. 

After, when the food had been put away and a random show turned on your TV for background noise, you lay again with him. 

This time, in your room on your bed, your head on his shoulder, one hand tracing the lines of his tattoos again. 

“Never told you much about these, have I?” Roger mused. 

“No. But I’ve never sat down and told you all about any of mine,” you replied. “I mean, I told you all when I was getting them or what it might look like. But I don’t think we’ve ever had any sort of intensive meeting about the stories behind them, or any of yours.” 

“We ought to,” he said. “I know I’m not normally one for it.” 

“I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d ever hear you wish for something like that.” 

“But...I don’t know. Would be nice. I mean, some of those you got before you met up with us, so we really have no idea the story behind them. Though I’m starting to think you just like toying with mine!” 

“I can stop,” you said, your finger stilled where it was on his hand. 

He shook his head. “I like it. But I’ve never seen you do that with anyone else, not any of the boys you met up with after you and Freddie cooled down that had tattoos.” 

“None of those boys were all that good,” you tutted as you resumed your tracing. “Or worthy of something that intimate. Freddie always told me I had a habit of getting carried away with the first cute thing I saw, then being frustrated when they weren’t interested in anything more stable. He was right, and he knew it, but I should have told him so more.” 

“He knew, even if you didn’t say it,” Roger said. “Or you wouldn’t have been in his circle of friends, or kept on as road crew. You know that just as well as I do. He didn’t suffer a fool, and he knew you were up to the work of being his friend, and friends with all of us.” 

“Do you think he’d have any?” you wondered. “By now? Maybe of the cats, if anything...” 

“I don’t know for sure,” Roger said. “He didn’t much like things like that, doctors and dentists and all of that, unless it was necessary for his health. But then again, you don’t much like those things either, and you’ve got some. Maybe you would have convinced him, or I could have gotten him to my artist.” 

“Just a bunch of old ladies, covered in ink,” you sighed. 

“Excepting Brian and Deaky,” Roger said. “Now that would be the real test for you. Could you convince them to get something done?” 

“Make it a band and crew bonding thing,” you replied. “We could all get one, something to symbolize touring so long. So many years, so much hard work. I don’t know exactly what, but I figure if we could make Freddie feel comfortable with it, he could help us convince the others. Adam as well; I think he could easily talk us all into something like that.” 

“Maybe we’ll have to do that anyway,” Roger said. “We have time to think on it, at least. Figure out a design, offer it up to anyone on the crew who wants to get it with us.” 

“Brian might just agree to it then,” you said. “But Deaky? I wouldn’t want to bother him, but I’d feel bad not offering it to him as well.” 

“He’s never gotten mad at us for messaging him about sillier, lighter things,” Roger said. “At worst, he would ignore it and not answer, and that would be answer enough. Who knows? He might surprise and reply back with a picture of the design done. After all, what have we all got to lose at this point?” 

You let his arm wrap around you and pull you close, and tried not to think about that, about the fears that occasionally raced through your mind as to what exactly you had to lose, what they all did, what everyone did, with the state of the world. 

“Nothing except some blank canvas,” you replied. “And I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like to die absolutely covered. Not a square bit of free skin.” 

“You’ll have to learn to take breaks then, so we can keep you going long enough for that,” Roger said. “Now, I’m simply too tired to go back home, and I daresay I might be too tired for the next few days...” 

“Sarina told me you were spending the next week with me, to keep an eye on me and make sure I eat and sleep or whatever,” you smiled. “You can be tired with me.” 

“And you’ll actually rest, and relax?” 

“For you? I could manage it,” you replied. “Thank you, Roger. For everything.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that,” he smiled. “It’ll be thanks enough to hear you snoring.” 

“I do not snore!” 

“Arguing that since 1978,” Roger tutted. “There’s no shame in it, it’s very cute.” 

You groaned and pressed your face into his chest. “I’m snoring extra loud, just for that.” 

“And you’ll make me all the happier,” Roger laughed. 

You couldn’t be sure if you actually did snore or not, but you were confident it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. 

The food helped, and the break, but more than anything, you knew it was Roger’s presence that let you finally rest. 

And that was why your next tattoo would be something for him, and you were going to be sure to let him know. 

[elatedmarvel]

Two Ghosts (2/2)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: It becomes too hard to deal with Steve’s past.  

Word Count: 2329

AN: Here’s the second part as promised! I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you for reading, it means the world to me.

Warnings: some angst, swear words, mentions of sexy time

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure what just happened, his brain not being able to process how his sweet and loving girlfriend could just walk out on him. How you could throw away the last few years of your amazing life together. 

Sure he went whenever Sharon had called, but he had explained his and Sharon’s relationship to you before. You had taken no issue with it, he even saw a glimmer of pride in your eye. And as for Peggy, well, he couldn’t help it. There would never be a him and Peggy, and he mourned for the life he never got to live. 

You had been patient and understanding for as long as he could remember. There was never a warning before the storm, he never got to brace himself for the worst when it already swept past. Leaving nothing but devastation in your path.

Animosity festered as he replayed the last few minutes. If that’s how you felt, then so be it. He’s lived without you before, and he can do it again. 

~~

It starts out simple. It’s already been a week since he last saw you that fateful night. He had heard from Bucky the grapevine that you had moved in with a close friend and seemed to be doing well. 

It irks him to no end that you got to leave. That he’s still trapped with reminders of a happier life. The sheets still smelled like you, the fridge was still stocked with your favorite yogurt, the mail was still delivered with your name on it. It was getting ridiculous at this point, he couldn’t  even take a shower in peace anymore, your shampoo bottle stares him down. 

Memory of you is everywhere, and every time he looks, his gut clenches. He didn’t notice it at first, but he figures his new found aversion to Ben & Jerry’s is because you’re not there to sneak bites of it any more. 

He hates the stupid throw on the couch. The one that would wrap both of you on netflix binges. The one he would cover you with when you fell asleep on the couch, convinced that this would be the time you could stay up and wait for him to get home from a mission. 

He hates walking into his room and seeing one side of the bed perfectly made. He hates laying in it more, not feeling your warmth besides him, or hearing your slow, rhythmic breathing. It lulled him to sleep just knowing you were safe besides him. Some nights it’s difficult to get in without promise of panting breaths and heated kisses that always turned into an explosive more. He sleeps now on one side, flat on his back, imagining the other side doesn’t exist. Sleep is no longer a friend. 

He hates the clothes that you left in the closet. He hates the pictures of your bright, smiling face on the walls. He hates the plants that he forgets to water, their wilting without you, not unlike him. 

He hates just about everything, but he can’t bring himself to throw any of it away. He tried to toss out your favorite tea one day and ended up sobbing on the floor with it curled in his arms. He likes to think that he was just tired that day, but even he knows that’s a lie. 

He hates that your not there.

But like the soldier he is, he keeps trudging on. 

~~

Half a month after, life is muted. He never noticed how barren social interactions were without you. 

Movie nights at the tower had lost their appeal without your legs tangled with his, whispering or giggling the whole time. Game nights were no fun when you weren’t by his side, cheating at monopoly, giving him that smug smile all the while. Even meals with the team were no longer as appetizing. Food was better eaten while listening to your teasing banter with Bucky and Sam, hand drawing patterns discreetly on his thigh the entire time.  

There had never been a duller fundraising event than the one he attended two nights ago. He had no one to laugh at his awkward jokes in the speech he had to give. No one would make fun of the stuffy business men and their trophy wives with him. And no one to go home with at the end of the night, leaving a trail of clothes to the bed.  

~~

He’s not sure what possessed him to go. He was writing reports of the latest missions, ignoring your stationary on the desk, when his phone had gone off. Sharon’s ringtone. He honestly couldn’t tell you what she had needed him for. 

Somehow he had ended up knocking on her apartment door. It felt wrong, like he was betraying you. He hasn’t seen you in 2 months at this point, but it didn’t matter. Your words fresh in his head, swirling around and drowning out his own thoughts. 

“Steve?” the blonde asks from the entryway. He hadn’t even notice the door open. 

“You ok?” she tries again. Sharon had never seen him look worse. His hair was long and greasy, had he taken a shower this week?-beard too full, needing to be trimmed. It was his eyes that really worried her. Gone was the sparkle, they looked dimmer, hollow. Like they saw right through her. 

“Fine.” he answers before pushing past her and into the apartment. Voice monotone. 

She watches as he all but drops himself on to the couch, like his legs couldn’t hold him up anymore. Blue eyes roamed around the apartment, unseeing of his surroundings. He had yet to smile or tease her about the mess on the coffee table. 

“What did you need again?” he snaps, annoyed at her staring and yearning to get back to the apartment faster. Back to all that he had left of you.

“Are you sleeping?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern. The blue and black bags under his eyes answers that question for him. 

“I told you I was fine. Just leave it.” he says flatly. Hands grab the first packet he sees, trying to remember what she had asked him to do. 

“Steve. Please talk to me.” she implores, moving to sit on the other end of the couch. Afraid that he would feel trapped if she got too close. “You’re scaring me.”

He lets out a huff and runs a giant hand over his unkempt face and back through his hair. “She left me.” he whispers looking up at the ceiling. 

A beat passes. She almost thinks he’s pranking her, but his expression stays somber. Eyes watering and breathing unsteady, he looks like a shell of the man she knows. 

“What happened?” she stutters. Shock coursing through her. Sure you two had fought before, everyone did. But she didn’t know two people who loved each other as fiercely and wholeheartedly as you two. 

“Something about ghosts.” he mutters, eyes closing to keep the tears at bay. He could never think about the fight without them. 

“And?” she prods.

Finally he looks at her, studying her trained expression. The pity he could feel radiating off of her opens the box he had shut and locked when you left. 

“It was because of you! Are you happy now? Huh?” he gets up and throws one of her pillows. “She said that she couldn’t compete with you anymore. That I was too busy living in the past. You’re the reason she’s gone!” he yells, chest heaving from the effort. 

“Are you done?” her face unmoving. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he sits back down and nods. Silence envelopes them.

“I’m sorry. I just, I kept all that bottled up. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” he breaks first.

She studies him more, trying to find the right words. “You know, you don’t have to be my knight in shining armor right? I can handle myself, you can say no, contrary to popular belief.” 

He lets out a huff in response. 

“Steve, seriously. I get it, we’re friends and I value that. But I also get that she comes first, I know she does. I’ll stop calling as much, but you have to promise to start saying no to me too.”

“It’s not that easy, Shar.”

“It is. Unless this is about something more?” she inquires, hoping that he doesn’t say what she thinks he’s about to. 

“I… I feel like I owe it to Peggy too.” he admits, voice and body smaller than before. 

“She lived her life Steve.” Sharon starts, trying to be sensitive, but trying to make him see what he’s been missing. “She would have wanted you to do the same. But it’s more than that, Peggy was an infatuation. You didn’t really know her, and I know you think she knew you, but not the same way your girl does. She’s got you memorized from head to toe and loves you, all of you.”

Eyes trained on his clasped hands, he nods slowly. “I know.” 

“Then I think you know what you have to do.”  

~~

The apartment was cold and lonely. Your friend had tried to back out of her date, but you didn’t want her to be like you. Alone. Besides, you didn’t want to hinder her anymore than you already had. You would be forever grateful to her for letting you crash in her spare room. 

Lights flashed in the living room, making shadows on the walls. Some show about cops maybe? Doctors? They tended to all blur together when you didn’t care. Just like all the nights before, it was just background noise to your heartache. 

Who knew that it was basically impossible to get over Steve Rogers? 

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Glancing at the clock, it was late enough that it was probably just your friend coming home. She always forgot her keys. Without glancing at the peephole, you threw the door open. “What would you do without me?” you teased.

Instead of your friend, a 6 foot, blond man stood instead. A small smile on his face. 

“Wither away, definitely” he answers. 

You stare up at him in shock. He wasn’t wrong- his face hollowed and sharper than before, eyes drooping. Hair in disarray and bushy bearded as he may be, but he was still your Steve. 

You’re sure you weren’t looking much better, under eye bags that matched his, and hair that was thrown carelessly into a bun. When was the last time you had changed out of your pajamas? 

“Hi.” still too stunned to say anything else. 

“Hi” his face bursts into the first real smile since you left. 

“How did you find me?” 

“Bucky” he answers easily, eyes never leaving yours. 

“I’m going to kill him.” 

He chuckles before sighing, his whole being felt better just being close to you. “Can I come in?” 

Instead of answering, you step to the side and guide him to the living room. He takes a seat and you make sure to leave a spot between you. The heat coming off of him making you bask slightly like a cat. Had you always been cold without him? 

“What are you doing here?” you question, pulling a loose thread on your flannel. 

“I realized what an idiot I was.” he states, hand coming to rest on your fidgeting ones. “I’m here to fight for the love of my life.”

Your lips curl up slightly on their own accord. Eyes meet his, and you melt. You no longer felt numb. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s always been you, I’m sorry I couldn’t see it before.” and your heart could burst at his words. 

“What about Sharon?” you ask, voice small. 

“We’ve made a deal. She’ll call less, only when she really needs me. And I’ll say no more.” 

“That’s not what I want. I still want you to be friends. I just need to know that you’re not going to run off on me every time.” you say sternly. Sharon was a big part of his life, one of your friends even. 

“I promise. You’ll always come first.” he vows.  

“And, Peggy?” your hands squeezing his when you say her name. 

“I’ve grieved long enough. It’s time I start to live my life, see what’s right in front of me. Trust me when I say I love you more than I can even express. More than anyone, and more than her.” His eyes conveying his conviction. “I know I said she was a part of me, and she is. But you’re all of me.” 

The smile that lit up your face was blinding and beautiful, Steve could feel his soul start to mend back together. Tears sprung to your eyes and fell, but his thumb wiped them away. 

“I love you too.” you breathe. And without hesitation you kiss him. Long and slow- toe curling, all consuming good. 

~~

“You know, I’ve been gone for two months, but this place looks like I left yesterday.” you tease. 

Steve comes through the door with your suitcases and coughs. His cheeks warm as he looks around. Everything left where you had last set it. 

“I had some issues getting rid of it.” he says, clearly embarrassed.

“I know, Bucky told me how you hard you cried when you tried.” you laugh. 

Steve instantly turns red and stutters, “That jerk!”

Hands slide around his waist and you tuck your head under his chin. Like they belong there, he’s arms wrap around you- steady and strong. 

“It’s ok, I cried too. He just told me that to make me stop.” you giggle. Those two months seeming like a different lifetime ago already. 

He sways the two of you from side to side gently, not ready to let go yet. Every now and then pressing kisses to your temple. 

“You do belong here with me.” he states.

“I really do.”

Tags:

@lovesteverogersbaeworld @rororo06 @nushie-writes

[crimsoncarcass]

Hello I logged in on 1/11/2021 by accident but here are some feelings

This is not the blog I wanted to find. This is not the one I thought I’d log into. This is not the account I hoped to remember or to write in, but my thoughts are important, my feelings are important, and recently pain soars through so much of my mind that I forget and shut down. It’s like everything leaves me, my mind, in a wisp of the wind, and the numb feeling of all those emotions of pain, hate, is all that is left with the tear thaat welled up in my eyes, that couldn’t drop for some reason. Why is it? That ever since Kuro left, I’ve stopped something inside that could still change and grow? What is it that I fucked up in myself to have a fake girlfriend, a fake romance, and fake emotions? I am lying to myself, I know, but about what? I can’t even tell. There’s nothing here for me at the age 24. There is nothing here in this whole world because I have hid myself from everyone, even myself, to the point that maybe there’s no way to open up again. To me, I have always separated, segregated, and kept them away; those people that cared and the friends and people who actually reached my heart-- even those people, are something that I try to erase from my heart every day. I try my best to open up physically, to be more present, to be more honest and to be genuine and myself, and yet, every few days when my repressed emotions surface, I find myself deleting myself, deleting the memories, deleting people, and in one way or another, distancing myself. 

Even when I look back on the good memories, I smile at it like a parent to a child, somewhere inside me, it says “We all grow up and leave some day”, and there’s a warmth behind all those words, but it sounds so cold. It sounds so cold to my soul that the tears that well up, sometimes drop down my cheek. Sometimes it makes me scream into my pillow because I can feel my skin, my extra fat on my chin wrinkle up and my nose scrunch up, and I don’t want to imagine what I look like. Sometimes I can let my voice out if I unwire all the way, sometimes, actually most of the time, I am silenced. Muted. 

Yes, that’s how I cry. Why do I write this? I don’t even know, maybe I think someone will read it one day. Maybe I think the pain I hold inside will be noticed one day, and even understood. Maybe I think someone who knows a similar pain will approach me one day -- and I won’t be so alone. Maybe I will find someone I can relate my trauma to, my despair with, someone I can truly connect with like Sophia was. Maybe all I’m looking for is a way to ask for help, someone to show up and prove that surviving was worth it, that the suffering I went through in life was something I wouldn’t regret or cry about. Maybe one day I will wake up in that dream I had in my happiest moments... Do you want to hear the dream I had? I had it one random night I stayed on call with Kuro. We slept on phone calls all the time, it made me feel safe, it made me feel like someone was actually paying attention to me, even when they weren’t. I didn’t feel abandoned, and I never thought he’d abandon me, and it was the best time of my life. Sometimes, he would be so exhausted, but we always laughed, whether it be the bad Vietnamese I practiced to tell him “Good Night” or “Thank you”, or just a random thought. I have seen happiness, and perhaps I should be blessed enough from that.

In the dream, I’m sitting on some random window with my violin in my hand. Whether or not there is an actual seat is unknown, but whether it be comfortable or uncomfortable. I looked hella cool. I had no trauma playing my violin, it was like I practiced 8 hours a day again, but from my own will. And I was doodling my own composition, I was spaced out and unfocused but i was inspired. There’s a kettle blowing in the back of the house, the kitchen, and I hear a female voice yelling in the background. It’s almost exactly like my mother, perhaps it was her too, but before my mom, out of the hallway comes another, a better and more familiar voice-- Kuro’s voice. “GIN OH MY GODD” is all I could make out of the yelling and the distant kettle stops its high pitched drone. I stop playing and turn around and yell “IM SORRY” and despite a happy undertone, I feel my face holding an “oops” expression on my face. My mom comes out from the hallway too with her high pitched yelling, she’s always like this but her voice along with Kuro’s scolds me and somehow, it’s all good. I feel a warmth in the way they scold me and at this point the dream is so fuzzy I don’t know if I had any visuals, but I remember the bright white screen in my head, and the simple warmth and relief in my chest that tomorrow will be an okay day. It was so nice, it was the best dream I’ve ever had in my life. If I died, I’d want to live in that moment forever. Even if I don’t die, I want to feel like that once in real life.  I don’t know what I felt. I don’t know if it was love. I don’t know if it was affection. I don’t know if what I felt was acceptance. I don’t know if it felt so good because I left all my trauma and depression behind, maybe I got over my exes in that moment. Maybe I --- I told Kuro so many things, near the end I had so many delusional dates I wanted to do, I told him everything I wanted to do with him...and yet, I was probably the one who broke his heart.  I wish you could tell me. What do I do now? What should I do? I know what you said, you told me to take care of myself, you told me to put myself first and to make myself happy. You told me to do all of these things and I’ve been working, working so hard. I have been doing everything you told me to, I promise. I just haven’t gotten to the brushing your teeth thing yet, I can’t do it yet, and sometimes I even think that you don’t come back because I can’t even brush my teeth by myself every night yet. But I don’t because what if ...what if I do get myself together, and you still don’t come back? How will I ever get better if I lose hope? I know you don’t want me to coin you as my life’s hope, I know you probably hated it and it weighed you down so much that when everything broke, you quickly found a way out-- and I respect everything you’ve done and do, I don’t think you’ve done a single thing wrong and even if it hurts, I know you must be in a better place by now, because that’s how you are. You never go anywhere that isn’t better. But with you gone, I can do anything I want with you in my memories can’t I, even if that means turning you into some miracle, some deity in my book that I can obsess over?  Kuro I’m not better. I’m not sure if I’m getting better at all. Sometimes I feel like my life is coming together, and then I remember it’s all going to fall apart, and it hurts and hurts so I shut it away like you did, because negating your feelings was what you were good at, and I couldn’t understand until recently I met Jessi, and she has taught me how to do it and even enjoy the process. I wish you can come and stop it, because right now you have such power over me that if you said one word I’d do anything to obey your wise words. Please, just please. I wish you’d let me forget to wait for you. I wish you reply one day, I wish one day I forget all of this. I don’t even know how anymore. I don’t know what to do with your memories Kuro. I can’t change maybe. Maybe this is really where I end at age 26. Did you know? The zodiac readings from the japanese blogs and professional fortune tellers all say that 26 for my year, is actually a Huge bad luck Year? I really think it might work. I really think that this will happen. But atleast I had you once. I fucked up Kuro. I get it now. After so much remorse and overthinking, I stopped thinking in details anymore. So now the answer is simply, I fucked the fuck up. And this is it. I’m going to die at age 26. And so far, everything is confirmed and it seems no one can really stop me anymore. I keep waiting for a sign, a message, a symbol, or an experience, that can keep me alive and going, to not kill myself at 26. But I think...so far, its not going so well.  The only person I feel sorry, and truly truly sorry for, is Vally. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I know for sure, that the time provided between Vally and I, were probably meant to be longer-- but I’m not sure if I can make it through my 26th year. I’m planning to do a phone call this weekend with her. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her, everything is such bad thoughts and bad endings, I don’t know what to say. I dont want to tell her anything that isn’t confirmed yet, but maybe its better for her to hear it early? But who can really tell her, a true companion, a true trauma-bonded victim, a true compassionate ally of yours, the most trustable person in the world, even more than Kuro at times,... that so far, it’s about 87% confirmed that I will kill myself in 2 years?

[big-idiot-wolf-boys]

Nightfall: Twilight Reimagined -2-

-1-

Still feeling very much like canon here, and very much the day to day life of Bella Swan. Check out my fancast here if you want to know what I’m imagining these characters to look like as I’m writing them!

                                                          ****

    The next day wasn’t much worse than the first, I guess that had to count for something. The second day of school is easier than the first because you know what to expect. Like Mike sitting next to me in English and then escorting me to my next class. Eric glared at Mike the whole time. Thankfully, everyone outside of the group I had somehow been adopted into seemed to have forgotten about me already.

   The rain appeared to be gone for now, but the clouds were dark and dense-- it could always decide to make a comeback.

  We had a surprise test in Trig, and I didn’t even know the formulas we were supposed to be using. I made a mental note to hide my grades from Charlie, I couldn't manage to do much more than basic algebra. In Spanish, Jessica and I were paired together to translate recipes from Spanish to English. All morning, I worried about lunch. Not where to sit or what to eat; I was worried about having to endure those strange, hateful glares from Edward Cullen. If it were anyone else, I’d just ask what his damage was. Something about the Cullens struck me as strange, though. I remembered Edward’s coal-black eyes and shuddered.

    It turned out that I had nothing to worry about. When Jessica and I entered the cafeteria, Edward was nowhere in sight. A quick scan of the room proved the rest of the Cullen siblings were sitting at their usual table, but he was not with them.

   Mike spotted us and bounded up to lead us to the table. Jessica was thrilled, and the others from yesterday quickly joined us. Today, I picked up some of the names I hadn’t yesterday. Lauren, Tyler, and Ben rounded out this loose collective of friends. Lauren had long blonde hair, pale skin, and pretty green eyes. She hadn't spoken to me much, and I tried not to take it personally. Tyler was tall and athletic-looking, with dark skin, his hair and eyes were a matching brown. Ben was the shortest of the group, he had golden-brown skin and black hair that he wore with bangs swooped to one side, landing just above his glasses. I tried to focus on the conversations going on around me but my thoughts kept wandering back to Edward. I was dreading the moment he entered the room and turned his angry gaze on me.

   My anxiety only grew while I waited. My appetite never appeared, my muscles were tense, and my knee was shaking so much that the chair under me squeaked in protest. He never appeared, rendering all my anxious energy useless.

   After lunch came Biology. I approached the door with dread coiling in my stomach. Maybe he'd decided to get lunch somewhere else in town, which meant he would still be in class. I hesitated outside for as long as I dared, but the warning bell sounded. Classes were starting.

   Edward wasn’t in his seat when I entered, and the dread faded. Until about halfway through class when the realization hit me, it had merely transformed into a messy combination of guilt and irritation.

   How could I have pushed Edward away before I even had a chance to speak to him? How could he hate me so much he’d skip school to avoid me?

   I told myself repeatedly that  I couldn’t possibly be the problem. After all, Edward didn’t even know me. Still, the voice in the back of my mind that said it was all my fault just wouldn’t go away.

   The day took a turn towards terrible when we had soccer in gym. I tripped over my own feet several times, fell in the mud, scraped my palms, and even misaimed a kick so much that the ball hit one of my classmates in the face. After that, the teacher told me to stand in the corner of the field and watch. When school finally let out, I practically ran to my truck. I slammed the door in my hurry to get inside and cringed over it. Then I turned the key and put the heater on high, waiting for the warm air to come rushing out of the vents.

   I backed out of my space and into the line of people waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited for my turn to leave, I saw the Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. A shiny Ford. Of course. Previously, I’d been too dazzled by the Cullens’ supernatural beauty to notice their clothing, but now it was obvious they came from money. I felt a brief stab of jealousy. It wasn’t enough that they were so pretty, they had to be well off, too?

   I yanked my gaze away from them but I could feel the group stare at me as I drove past them. Did they share the theory that I drove Edward away?

   This morning, Charlie had asked me to pick up a few things from the grocery store after school. It was only a few minutes away- but so was everything else. The bright lights and stocked shelves reminded me of doing the shopping back home. I fell into the familiar pattern with ease. It was practically second nature how I ghosted through the aisles, keeping track of Charlie's budget in my head.

   When I got back to the house, I shoved the groceries wherever they could fit and began to prep dinner. All it took was tossing some steaks in a marinade and throwing some potatoes in the oven. This was a meal that I knew Charlie would approve of, and the perfect way to introduce him to the idea of me doing the cooking.

   When I finished the prep, I took my backpack upstairs and threw on a pair of pjs, tying my hair up afterward. Glancing at my school bag again, I sighed. Most of the homework I’d been assigned today was covering things I’d already done back home-- and I wasn’t looking forward to repeating it.

    Instead, I put the effort into checking my email for the first time since my arrival. Charlie still had dial-up, and the laptop beeped and screeched at me as it connected. Renee had signed us both up for a service called NetMail through AOL so we could stay in touch through e-mail.

   Three unopened messages.

    Bella,

      Write to me as soon as you get time. I want to know everything about your flight! How is Charlie doing? Is it raining there? I’m sure it is.

      I miss you already. I’m almost finished packing for Florida, but I can’t find that pink floral shirt. Do you know where I put it?

      Phil says hi and good luck at school tomorrow. We love you!

      Mom

    That was sent about three hours into my five-hour flight to Seattle. I sighed and clicked the next one. It was sent eight hours after the first.

    Bella,

      Why haven’t you emailed me back? I’m waiting to hear from you.

      Mom

    The newest email was from this morning.

    Isabella Swan, if I haven’t heard from you by 5:30 pm, I will call Charlie.  

  My mom and I had always gotten along well, but Renee had leaned on me for a lot. I was sure that she was spiraling already. I glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. There was still an hour until mom’s deadline, but I had a feeling she would get antsy and call early.

    Mom,

      Everything is   fine.    Don’t worry. I was just waiting for something to write about.

      Bella.

    Send.

   Now that the danger of my mother interrupting Charlie’s workday was out of the way, I began a second email.

    Mom,

      Your blouse is at the dry cleaners, you were supposed to pick it up after dropping me off at the airport.  

      Of course it’s raining. I have to slosh through puddles to get to every single class I have. Speaking of, school is fine. Repetitive.   I’ve already done most of what we’re covering. Easy graduation credits, I guess!

      Charlie bought me a truck! I couldn’t believe it. It’s this old, sturdy thing. Which is good. You know. For me. I love it.

      I miss you too. I can’t check my email every five minutes, though. Breathe. It’ll be okay. I’ll write again when I have something interesting to talk about, I promise. I love you.

      Bella

    The novel we were studying in English was Wuthering Heights, which happened to be one of my favorites. My copy of the book was a well-worn hardback, the edges of the cover softened with age. It was easy to sink into the familiar fictional world; by the time Lockwood was having his first nightmare, the sounds of the world around me had blurred and faded into the background.

   “Bella?” My dad’s voice rumbled downstairs.

  Oh, crap, I had forgotten all about dinner! After hastily shoving a bookmark into place, the book was tossed onto my pillow. I rushed downstairs, tripping over my own feet at the bottom step, but Charlie was there to catch me by the shoulders.

   “Where’s the fire?” He asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

  “I forgot about dinner,” I explained sheepishly, leading the way to the kitchen to pull the potatoes out of the oven. I put the steak in to broil before turning around to look at Charlie with an apologetic smile. “I wanted to have it ready for when you got home.”

   “Bells, you don’t have to do that.” He said with a small frown. He must think I had the same bizarre food tastes as Renee. Her experiments in the kitchen often ended up in the trash, completely inedible.

    “It’s just steak and potatoes.” I shrugged dismissively, fluttering one hand. To balance out my mom’s wacky dinners, I had learned how to fend for myself and make it taste pretty good, too.

   “That’s not what I meant,” Charlie said, hanging his jacket on the back of his chair at the table.

  “What did you mean?” He set the table while I pulled the food out of the oven. I caught him sniffing appreciatively at the air.

   “I  mean,  I should be the one cooking dinner, not the other way around.” There was an unspoken  duh. As if nothing in the world made more sense than for Charlie to cook dinner for us. My throat tightened a little and my eyes watered. I turned to get myself a glass of water so I could collect myself without him seeing how something so simple had affected me.

   “Oh.”

   Charlie sat at the table, and I sat across from him.

  “It smells good, though. Thanks, Bell.”  He smiled warmly at me and I noticed how his eyes were beginning to crinkle at the corners. He was beginning to show signs of age now; lines in his face, salt and pepper flecked his scruff.

   We ate in silence for a while, which was more than fine by me. Charlie and I were quiet people and though I had misjudged my role here, we were good housemates.

   “How was school?” He asked, interrupting my thoughts, “Make any friends yet?”

  “Well…” I tapped some pepper onto my potatoes to stall for time. “Everyone’s really nice. I sit with a group of people at lunch, but I don’t know if I’d say we’re friends yet.”

   “Sitting with people at lunch is a good way to start making friends,” Charlie encouraged me. Was it that obvious how worried I was about being the new kid? And the reaction I’d gotten from certain classmates…

   “Do you know the Cullen family?” I asked suddenly, curiosity overtaking me before I could stop it.

   “Dr. Cullen’s family? Sure.”

   “The kids don’t seem to fit in.” I decided not to worry Charlie with Edward’s reaction to me.

  “Dr. Cullen has been a huge help to the community, you know,” Charlie said, more strongly than before. “We’re lucky to have him. He could have his pick of jobs all over the place. His wife wanted a small-town life, though. Sure, I was worried when they moved here with all those kids, but I haven't had one ounce of trouble from them.” He was really gathering steam now. “But just because they’re new to town and a little different, people just have to gossip about them.”

   I rethought my approach.

  “I just meant that they sort of stick to themselves.” I tucked my hair behind my ear before continuing. “They all seem pretty smart.” Or just pretty.

   Charlie shrugged one shoulder. “Guess there’s not much you can do in a town like this. People decided they were outsiders, so why should they try to make friends? Maybe you’ll have something in common with one of them.”

   I didn’t answer him, too busy thinking about what he’d said. We finished eating in silence, and he cleared the table before I had a chance to. I stood next to the table, feeling a little useless.

   “You don’t have to take care of me, you know,” I said, nodding to the pile of dirty dishes that Charlie had just finished stacking next to the sink.

   “That’s my job, Bells.” He kissed my forehead before retiring to the living room to put on the game of the night. I blinked quickly to counter the sudden wetness that sprung up in the corners of my eyes.

   Determined to help out around the house somehow, I turned back to the dishes. Charlie might want to take care of me, but that didn’t mean I had to be a freeloader. I washed the dishes by hand, and set them in the rack to dry. With no other preoccupations, there was nothing left to do but trudge upstairs to work on my math homework

   When I finally tumbled into bed, exhausted, I slept dreamlessly.

  The rest of the week flew by in an uneventful blur. I learned where all my classes were and how to get to them the fastest. I was also able to place most of my classmate’s names to their faces- and they knew not to pick me in gym class. Jessica was still happily chatting my ear off at every opportunity, and when I needed a reprieve from that- Angela Weber was there to quietly discuss Wuthering Heights.

   Edward Cullen didn’t return to school.

  The whole week, I shared my first class of the day with Rosalie, but I could never gather the courage to speak to her and ask what her brother’s problem was, or if he was coming back. Every day, I watched their table to confirm that he wasn’t there, then I could relax. Recently, Mike had really been pushing the idea of a weekend beach trip, and Jess and Angela always made sure to mention that I was welcome to come. I agreed to go, mostly out of a want to get to know my new friends. Whatever they called a beach here would only fall short of my expectations. By Friday, I confidently walked into Biology with the knowledge that Edward wouldn’t be there with his strange, hateful stare.

  My first weekend in Forks was, predictably, boring. Charlie, who had been working weekends for the last fifteen years, spent most of his time at the Sheriff’s Office. I spent my time cleaning the house, reading ahead for English class, and emailing with my mom.

   On Saturday, I went to the Forks Public Library but I was disappointed by their selection, and didn’t even bother to get a card. I looked at the local stores to see what their small selections had, but no dice. It seemed I was going to have to make a trip out of town if I wanted any new reading material. Would my truck be okay on the freeway?

   Thankfully, the rain remained a soft pattering and didn’t hinder my sleep too much.

  On Monday morning, people smiled and waved at me in the parking lot. I waved back, even at the people whose names escaped me. It was cold this morning, but the rain had taken a hiatus.

   In English, Mike sat next to me, reliable as ever. We had a surprise quiz on Wuthering Heights, no doubt I would get an excellent grade on it. I was more confident and comfortable in Forks High School than I had expected even a week ago. More comfortable than I had  ever expected to be in Forks.

  When English ended, the class streamed outside… and into a flurry of white tufts in the air. I could hear teenagers yelling gleefully from every direction. My nose twinged in the cold.

   “Snow!” Mike grinned.

   I shoved my hands into my pockets, surveying the sidewalk for ice. “Ew.” I wrinkled my nose.

   “You don’t like snow?” Mike asked, his gleeful look dampening significantly.

  “I guess it’s better than rain.” I conceded. “But I thought it was supposed to be prettier than this. Distinct flakes or whatever.”

   Mike looked at me with all the disbelief he could muster. “You’ve never  seen snow?”

   “Well, yeah. On TV.” I said defensively.

  Mike laughed, but the sound was cut short by a ball of slush hitting him in the back of the head. I anxiously looked in the direction it had come from, ready to use my backpack as a shield. Eric had his back to us, walking in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike knelt down to scoop up his own ball of mush.

   “You know what, I’ll just see you at lunch,” I said hurriedly, beginning to make my way towards the school. “Once people start throwing things, I get out of range.” I shot him an apologetic smile, but his eyes were trained on Eric’s back.

  The only thing anyone wanted to talk about was the snow’s sudden arrival. I bit my tongue, to not ruin everyone else’s excitement. It seemed like I was the only one who wasn’t fond of the cold, wet weather.

  When it came time for lunch, I hurried to the cafeteria with Jess. Snowballs were flying left and right, though they didn’t really stick together well enough to be qualified as a ball. Jessica thought that I was being dramatic about the whole thing, but she was nice enough to not pull me into the brief snowball fight between herself, Mike, Eric, Ben.

   The fight only lasted from building 3 to building 1, where the cafeteria was. Mike opened the door for us. They argued about who had won as we waited in line to pay for our food. Nothing but habit brought my eyes to the table that the four Cullens occupied every day. Only today there were five of them. I froze where I stood. It would be better to be back out in the snow.

   Jess tapped on my shoulder. “Earth to Bella! Hello?”

  I looked down, feeling the heat from my cheeks up to the tips of my ears when I blushed. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, though, I firmly reminded myself.

   “Are you alright?” Mike asked, leaning over Jessica’s shoulder to look at me.

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled, tucking my hair back. I carelessly tossed an apple and milk crate onto my tray and followed my friends.

   “Are you sure you feel okay?” Ben pressed.

  “Actually, I feel kind of sick,” I admitted, sitting next to Jess and keeping my eyes down. Twice more during lunch, someone asked how I was feeling. For a fleeting moment, I considered playing it up so I could skip my next class. Biology with Edward. I almost shuddered at the thought but reminded myself that I’d done nothing wrong. Edward was the one with the problem. I steeled myself and looked at the Cullen’s table. If he still looked at me like I was some kind of loathsome monster, maybe I  would skip.

   At the end of the table, Mike laughed boisterously at something; this was my excuse to look in that direction, and then peer past him to the table where the otherworldly family was sitting. None of them looked at me. I sat up straighter. They were joking and laughing with each other. They appeared to have snow in their hair, though it was melting rapidly under the school’s heating system. Rosalie and Edward were leaning away as Jasper shook his head like a dog- causing icy water to fly at them. They were just enjoying the snow like everyone else, only they looked like movie stars.

   Besides how loud and happy they were compared to last week, there was something else that was amiss about the scene. I found myself staring at them individually as I tried to figure it out. I was the most familiar with Rosalie, since we shared a class, so I started with her. She looked the same as ever: stunningly beautiful. The others looked the same as always too, maybe the scene had seemed off because Edward had returned.

   I looked at him with the most attention. He was flushed, for one. Maybe from laughter, or the cold. It looked like he had finally gotten a good night’s sleep, the bags under his eyes were much less pronounced. There was still something, though…

   “Bella, what  are you staring at?” Jess asked me, pushier than usual. How long had I been spacing out?

   Her eyes followed my gaze.

  Edward looked our way as if we had called out to him, even though we were all the way across the room. I looked away quickly, but not quickly enough. Our eyes met for just a second. He wasn’t wearing that angry expression from last week, he looked curious again.

   What was this guy’s deal? Why couldn’t he make up his mind?

   “Edward Cullen is staring at you.” She said in a hushed voice.

  “Really?” I squeaked. “I don’t think he likes me.” I felt queasy, and offered to trade Eric my milk for his water bottle. He accepted and I took a large gulp of the refreshing liquid as soon as he passed it over.

   “It’s okay, Bella.” She said comfortingly. “The Cullen’s don’t usually like anyone. But he’s still looking at you.”

   “Stop looking!” I hissed.

   She giggled, but looked away. I took a smaller sip of water, focusing with all my might on not looking at the Cullens.

  Mike spoke up then, and I had never been more thankful for his interruption. He was planning a snowball fight after school, and announced it loud enough for everyone to hear. Jessica agreed enthusiastically, but I was starting to think she would agree to do anything as long as Mike was involved. I decidedly didn’t speak up, and began to plot where to hide until the fight was over and I could safely make it to my truck.

   When the bell rang, I made my way to the door quickly-- hoping to avoid walking to class with Mike, who seemed to be a large target for snowballs. But he and my other friends caught up to me in two long strides. When we got to the door, everyone groaned. The snow had pretty much stopped coming down, and what little snow had stuck to the ground was muddy and gross. I hid my pleased smile and tested the iciness of the sidewalk. As good a grip as any other day. Well, on a good day for me. Mike complained about the snow’s disappearance until we got to the door of the biology classroom.

  I was relieved to see my table was empty and rushed to it as if getting there first allowed me some kind of claim on the space. Of course, this wasn’t the case, but it made me feel better nonetheless.  I had been here all last week, after all.

  Mrs. Ramone began to hand out microscopes and slides, and my classmates chattered quietly among themselves. I doodled on the cover of my notebook, sketching out the sparrow I could see from the window next to my table.

   The chair next to me was pulled out with an unsettling screech, but I very carefully kept my eyes averted from my tablemate.

   “Hello,” Said a quiet, musical voice.

  This was the first time one of the Cullens had spoken directly to me, and something about the windchime quality of Edward's voice sent a shock through me. I sat rigidly and whipped my head around to face him.

  He was sitting at the furthest end of the desk, like last week, but his chair was turned so that he was facing me. It almost seemed casual but something was jarring about the whole thing. He seemed unnatural somehow, like he didn’t belong here. His expression was friendlier than I expected, a polite smile gracing his features, but his eyes were guarded.

   “I’m sure you’ve already gathered by now, but I’m Edward Cullen,” He continued, “And you’re Bella Swan, right?”

   My mind swam. Had I completely imagined Edward’s hostility? He was friendly now, if a little strange.

   “Why did you call me Bella?” I blurted.

   “Oh, is Bella for friends only? I just-” Edward faltered.

  “No, I prefer Bella. Everyone called me Isabella when I first got here… I guess Charlie- I mean, my dad- must call me that when I’m not around.” I explained, feeling even more out of my element than usual. I felt tongue-tied in front of this strange guy.

   Thankfully, Ms. Romane clapped her hands together to gather our attention. I was incredibly grateful for being saved from any more embarrassing small talk. Today, we were going to be identifying and sorting cells into the phases of mitosis without looking at our books. The teacher would be making rounds at the end of class to see who got it right.

   “Let’s get going everyone!” She clapped her hands together again.

  “Shall we?” Edward asked, smiling crookedly as he pushed the microscope towards me. I was once again struck by his dazzling beauty-- until his smile began to fade. “Or I can start,” He added. Shoot, I must have waited too long to answer him.

   “I can do it.” I shook my head a little to clear it from the fuzz that had momentarily clouded my mind. I hoped I wasn’t blushing.

   Okay, maybe I wanted to show off a little. My previous school had been more advanced than Forks High, and I had already done this before. It was easy. I slid the little glass slide into place and adjusted the microscope until it was properly focused. It only took me a few seconds for me to assess the slide.

   “Prophase.”

  I started to remove the slide, but Edward reached out to stop me. “Mind if I look?” His hand was freezing, as if he had just come in from playing with the snow. I couldn’t help but gasp and pull my hand away. Besides being cold, it was as though he had shocked me. I tried to chalk it up to static electricity he took the microscope.

   Curiously, I watched him examine the slide. He had barely looked at the thing before writing  prophase gracefully on our worksheet. He switched out the slides and glanced at the second one just as quickly as the first.

   “Anaphase,” He said, writing it down as he spoke.

   “Mind if I check?” I asked, sounding more courageous than I felt.

  Edward pushed the microscope my way, this time avoiding any contact between us. I tried to look as quickly as possible. I was disappointed, he was right.

   “The next one?” I asked, my competitive nature peeking out. He handed it to me, still careful to not let our skin touch.

   “Interphase,” I announced. He took the microscope from me with an amused smile.

  Despite our competition, we were the first team finished. Mike and his partner, a girl named Ali, were comparing two slides repeatedly. Another group seemed to have broken a slide and were trying to tape it back together. I tried to hide my own amused smile at that. Unfortunately, finishing first meant that we had nothing to do but wait for the end of class. I tried not to look at him, but that didn’t last long.

    When I glanced up, Edward was looking at me with intensity. Frustrated again, like he was trying to remember something. Suddenly, it clicked in my brain. Why his family looked so different.

   “Are you wearing contacts?” I asked. Oops. I hope that wasn’t being rude.

   Edward blinked in surprise. “No,” The way he said it, with a lilt towards the end, made it sound like a question.

   “Oh.” I mumbled. “I just thought there was something different about your eyes.”

   He shrugged. “They are kind of a weird color, right? I think it’s genetic.”

  I was sure that it was something other than a mutated brown color, though. I could distinctly remember the black color of his eyes the first time I had seen him. The stark contrast between his hateful stare and the pallor of his face. Only today, his eyes weren’t black. They were a dark butterscotch color, the golden tone that shone in them complimented his bronze hair. I couldn’t make sense of how that could be. Unless he was lying about the contacts. Maybe I had just imagined the darkness of his eyes in my anxiety.

   I glanced down. Edward’s hands were clenched into fists. Only for a moment. Then they smoothed out and he smiled at me. I almost forgot to be suspicious of him.

   Ms. Ramone came to check our work. She squinted at the paper then frowned at Edward. “You didn’t share with your partner, Edward?” She asked, looking at the worksheet holding only Edward’s elegant handwriting on it.

   “Bella actually identified three out of five of the slides, Ms. Ramone,” Edward said with a charming smile.

   She turned to me then. “Well done, Bella. Have you taken this class before?”

   “Not with onion root,” I admitted with a sheepish smile.

   “Whitefish?”

   “Yeah.”

   She nodded. “Were you an advanced placement student in your last school?”

   “Only in science and English.” I couldn’t help being a little proud.

  “I suppose it’s good that you and Edward are partnered, then.” She said with a small chuckle, moving on to check Mike and Ali’s work. I began to doodle on my notebook again, filling in little details to my drawing from before.

   “Too bad about the snow, huh?” Edward asked, his musical voice jarring me out of my thoughts. I hated small talk, and I had the feeling he was only forcing himself to be polite to me, anyway.

   “Not really.” I mumbled, past bothering to hide my irritation with the weather.

   “You don’t like the cold?”

   “Or the wet.”

   “It doesn’t sound like Forks is your kind of place, then.” He said, thoughtfully.

   “You have no idea,” I grumbled, glancing at the window and privately shooing the clouds away.

   He looked like I had said something incredibly profound. I impossibly tried not to be distracted by his expression.

  “So why’d you move here?” His voice was pure curiosity. He didn’t want to know because I was the shiny new toy, gossip for his friends. He seemed genuinely interested and no one had bothered to ask me that yet, especially so pointedly. It took me by surprise.

   “Um.”

   “You don’t have to tell me.” It looked like he couldn’t bear not knowing.

   I hesitated, but met his eyes. His golden gaze captivated me, and I blurted out an answer without even thinking about it.

   “My mom got married.”

   “Oh, and you didn’t like the guy?”

   “No, Phil’s great. Really.”

  “So why didn’t you stay with them?” Edward’s voice was still burning with curiosity, but there was an underlying kindness to it.

    It didn’t make any sense why he was so interested. He was staring at me like I was holding the answers to the universe. If he was always this intense, it was going to give me whiplash the next time he decided that he was going to be hostile.

   “Phil’s a minor league baseball player, so he travels a lot.” I smiled, remembering piling into his van with my mom to travel with them. It had been fun, for a while.

   “Is he famous?” Edward asked in a light tone.

   “I don’t think you’ll have heard of him.”

  “So your mother sent you here so that she could travel with her new husband?” Edward tried to untangle the threads of my story.

   I shook my head, almost insulted. “No,” I said indignantly, “I sent myself.”

   His brows furrowed. “I don’t get it.”

   I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him anyway?  Why did he care?

  “Well. She stayed home with me for a while, but she missed him. It made her unhappy, that didn’t work. So the three of us traveled together for a while. That was fun, but it wasn’t…” I struggled to find the right word, “Stable. So I decided that it was time that I came to be with my dad.” I tried not to sound glum about being stuck in Forks because the truth was that I really  was glad to spend time with Charlie. I just wished we got to spend time together somewhere else.

   “But you’re not happy.” He said simply.

   “So?” I raised an eyebrow.

   “It’s not fair,” He shrugged, but their eyes hadn’t lost their intensity. “It sucks.”

   “Why’s it matter to you anyway?” I demanded, resisting the urge to childishly stick my tongue out at him.

  “Good question.” He muttered, mostly to himself. That seemed like the only answer I was going to get. This was confirmed by Ms. Ramone interrupting us by calling for the class’s attention. I couldn’t understand how this bizarre, beautiful boy had gotten me to reveal more about my life to him than any of my new friends had. And there was still the mystery of whether or not he hated me. He had seemed friendly enough during our conversation, but I could see him leaning away from me now, hands curled into fists again.

   I tried to at least look like I was paying attention to Ms. Ramone’s debriefing.

   When the bell  finally rang, Edward swiftly took his leave. He moved gracefully, like a large cat on the prowl. I stared after him in amazement and Mike took this as an opportunity to hop to my side.

   “That sucked!” He groaned. “I couldn’t tell any of ‘em apart. You’re lucky you had Cullen to do it for you.”

  “I identified half of ours,” I snapped at Mike, stung by his comment and frustrated by Edward. Immediately, I regretted taking out my strange mood on him. It didn’t seem to dull Mike’s mood much.

   “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender.

  He changed the subject to the beach trip, lamenting that the snow from earlier indicated that it was still too cold to go. His chattering just couldn’t hold my attention as we walked to gym.  He was on my team today, and graciously let me sit out. I still managed to catch my toe on the lip of the doorway and almost tripped on my way out after class.

    A mist was gathering in the parking lot as I made my way to my truck. I idly thought about giving it a name, if it had enough personality to warrant giving it one. Time would tell on that. As per my new routine, I hopped into the cab and turned the heater on high. My cold hands warmed in front of the vents before fluffing up my damp hair so it would dry out on the short drive home.

   Before backing up, I looked around to make sure no one was behind me. I noticed a still, pale figure in my mirror and realized it was Edward Cullen. He was leaning against his Ford, staring right at me. My heart jolted in my chest, causing my foot to jump off the clutch too fast-- the engine stalled. I groaned and rolled my eyes. Turning the engine over again and cautiously pulling out, I stared ahead as I drove. As I passed, I could swear Edward was laughing at me.

[embklitzke]

July 2020 Camp NaNoWriMo - The Magic Crystal Justice Squad (Chapter 3)

It wasn’t as bad as he’d made it sound.

It was a lot worse.

I stared at the screen, watching the footage now for a third time, barely hearing the reporter talking over the video, stomach sinking.  This was bad.

“I am so fucked,” I said to myself, clutching my cup.  “What the hell was I thinking?”

That was the problem, though.  I really hadn’t been thinking.

Worse yet, the news had correctly identified me—not as me, of course, not at Autumn McCrory, but definitely as the Quicksilver Crystal Princess, the de facto leader of the Magic Crystal Justice Squad.  That alone made me want to curl up in a hole and die.

I was twenty-nine years old and I was going to be known for the rest of my life as the Quicksilver Crystal Princess.  At fourteen, it hadn’t sounded so bad—none of it had sounded that bad.

At fourteen, none of us had exactly been able to think very far ahead or very clearly about what could happen in the future.

Gods, we were so stupid back then.

But Nimue had made it sound like it wasn’t going to be terrible.  She’d talked to us about duty and honor and responsibility and helped us learn how to use the powers our wands gave us—and so much more.  I missed her more than I wanted to admit.  She’d always somehow known what to say and what to do—up until the last minute of her life, when she’d sacrificed herself to save us in those dark hours.

We’d all thought that it was the ultimate noble sacrifice.

Something about it now seemed like cruel irony.  We hadn’t won the war.  We’d only delayed it.

My lips thinned as I ran the video back again.  Where had the cameras been?  How had I missed the fact that I’d hit the eleven o’clock news?

Tristan was right.  If the others didn’t know what I was doing yet, they’d sure as hell know soon.

What do I tell them when they come demanding answers?  I didn’t know.  What was worse, I didn’t know what I’d do if they didn’t come demanding answers.

I put my head down on my desk, staring at the wood grain at close range, then sighed.

“Buck up, Autumn,” I muttered to myself.  “This isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened.  Or could have happened.”

It wasn’t, but it was damn close.

It had only been a matter of time, though, before someone caught sight of me.  I’d really just hoped it would be later.

I let the video cycle through one more time before I turned it off with a groan.  My coffee cup was empty.  Even four cups in, I wasn’t any less tired than I’d been when I rolled out of bed.  I’d need to fuel up even more if there was even going to be a prayer of my making it to Maricopa tonight to babysit Tristan and his date.

I wish I could have said no.

At least it meant I didn’t have to cook.

Dragging myself to my feet, I headed with my cup back toward the kitchen to make another pot of coffee and try to mentally prepare myself for diving head-first into my brother’s research.  Not for the first time, I wished I could find a way to just be numb, to not feel the ache of his absence whenever I even thought of what he’d been digging into.

Gods, Aust, why didn’t you tell me about what you’d found sooner?  But I knew why.  He wanted to be sure before I threw myself into danger again.  He knew that would be my first instinct, especially since we’d already figured out that no one was going to crop up to replace me and the rest of the team.  No new Magic Crystal Justice Squad was going to arise.

There was just the old one, now twelve years out from retirement, and with most of the team intending to stay retired for the rest of their lives.

I couldn’t blame them. If not for my promise to Nimue and what had happened to Austin, I would’ve stayed retired, too.

Like I said.  Fate’s a cruel bitch and I know for a fact that she’s got my number.

Halfway through making a fresh pot of coffee, someone pounded on my front door.  It startled me badly enough that I jumped, heart going at three times its normal speed.

What the hell? I wasn’t expecting any deliveries, and Tristan never knocked—he’d always just let himself in.

The last time someone had pounded on the door like that...

My heart lodged in my throat.  I opened the drawer where I kept my wand stashed and prayed that I wasn’t going to need it.

Keeping it hidden behind my back, I moved toward the door.

Whoever was on the other side pounded again.  I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice level.  “Just a minute.”

Peering through the peephole, I only saw someone’s back.  It was a woman, her brown, almost black hair in dozens of small braids.  I caught a flash of skin only a few shades lighter and swallowed hard.

Oh gods.  Please no.  I don’t think I can face any of them.

But if it was who I thought it was, she already knew I was home and she already knew she had the right place.

Still, if it was Tia out there, how the hell had she managed to find me?

Clutching my wand behind my back, heart hammering and praying that this wasn’t some kind of trap or trick, I unlocked the door and cracked it open.  Tia turned at the sound of the bolt sliding back and met my gaze through the crack.

“You are a really stupidly hard person to find,” she said, crossing her arms.  “Can I come in?”

Heaving a sigh, I nodded, opening the door wider.  “Yeah. Come in.”

This isn’t going to be fun.  Not at all.

Her tone told me that much.

She stepped past me and walked deeper into my apartment.  Exactly three steps in, as I turned to close and lock the door behind her, she turned back toward me.

“Unlisted phone number, zero social media presence, no address under your name, no real paper-trail. It’s like you wanted to be forgotten.”

“Maybe I did,” I said as I leaned against the door, avoiding her gaze.  I didn’t want to see the anger or hate that I knew I’d find there.  She was pissed and probably entitled to it.

“Maybe you did,” she echoed, her voice heavy with sarcasm.  “If not for that video on the news and three measly pictures that might be you on Tristan Zeller’s arm—by way, if that is you, you’ve got even more explaining to do than just what was on the news—you might as well be dead.”

I shrugged.  The lack of social media and the unlisted number and address had all been my idea. Austin had profiles, but the apartment was under the name of the McCrory Trust and his cell number was unlisted, too. It had just seemed safer that way, smarter.  Besides, the work he did practically required some sort of social media presence.

Mine—or the lack thereof, if I were really honest with myself—didn’t require even that much, so I’d stayed completely under the radar as much as I could.

There was a huge part of me that really had wanted to be forgotten.

“So how did you find me?” I asked, staring at her feet.  She wore flats, cute ones printed with cherries on a pale blue background. The red echoed the color of the capris she wore.  Somehow, she’d always managed to be effortlessly fashionable, even when we were teenagers.

I’d always envied her that in a teeny, tiny way.

She huffed a sigh. “It wasn’t easy.”

“I didn’t think it would be.”  Because I didn’t want to be found.

The weight of her gaze was almost enough to make me wilt.  “I ended up finding your dissertation.  That got me to a copy of your CV.  Why the hell aren’t you teaching?”

“Technically, I’m doing post-doctoral research.”  I levered myself off the door and walked back to the kitchen.  She pivoted to keep me in view.  I turned my back to her as I resumed making that fresh pot of coffee I’d started before her pounding on my door had interrupted me.

“Post-doctoral research,” she echoed.  “In what, Autumn?”

“Technically nothing.” My lips thinned and I turned back toward her.  “What do you want, Tia?”

Her expression went slack. For the first time, I met her gaze and saw worry there, not the anger and hate I’d expected.  “What do I want?  I want an explanation, Autumn.  What the hell is going on?  Why were you out there as the Princess on the evening news?  I thought that was all over—we hung it up.”

“We did,” I agreed. “But you guys knew that Austin and I were going to watch.  That we were going to wait to see who was supposed to pick up where we left off if something new cropped up, if something else went sideways.”  My fingers curled around the edge of the counter behind me and I held onto it—it was something tangible, something solid, and I needed that without knowing why.  “I owed that much to Nimue and there was no way in hell Austin would let me shoulder that burden alone.  Not after everything he watched us go through.”

“So what changed?” Tia took a step toward me, then stopped, as if she’d seen something in my expression that gave her pause.  “What did you guys find out?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“More complicated how?” She looked around, her brows knitting. Her arms fell to her sides.  “You were on the news stopping some apparent thugs from breaking into a WestCorp satellite facility because who knows why. That seems pretty simple to me.  I just want to know why.  Maybe if I asked Austin, he’d tell me.”  She turned, as if she was about to go looking for him.  I didn’t stop her.

I just squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed hard, fingers digging into the edge of the counter.

“He lives here with you, doesn’t he?”

My head dipped in a single nod.  I couldn’t look at her.  I couldn’t even open my eyes for fear that I’d just burst into tears.

The pain of loss hit at the worst possible times.

Worry threaded through her voice, mingling with a sense of dread and foreboding, as if somehow she knew what I was going to say.  “Autumn, where is he?  Where’s Austin?”

“They took him,” I said in a choked whisper.  “Men with guns came one night and took him.  I didn’t realize who or what they were until it was too late to stop them.”

“What were they?” she asked, her voice growing closer.  I trembled, biting down hard on my lower lip, as if that would help keep the tears at bay. “Autumn, please.  Tell me.”

“They were her men. Her monsters.”

Tia’s voice dropped. “Kalstrixa’s?”

“Yes.”

The words came as a harsh whisper.  “But we banished her.”

“Apparently not hard enough,” I said, my voice choked.  “Because her thugs showed up at the same front door that you just pounded on and took my brother before I could stop them.”  Sucking in a shaky breath, I finally let go of the counter long enough to swipe angrily at my eyes, at the tears that had started to roll down my cheeks. It was only then that I met Tia’s gaze and saw the shame there.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach.

“When did this happen?” she asked, a tremor in her voice.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Six months ago,” I said, feeling lower than the shit you’d scrape off the bottom of your shoe.  “I didn’t tell anyone.  Tristan found out on accident.”

“Tristan Zeller.”

I nodded, closing my eyes again.  “Yeah.”

“Who doesn’t know anything about any of this.  Or...didn’t until you told him.”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” I said.  “Just that men with guns came and took Austin.”

She shot me a skeptical look, then came toward me, leaning against the kitchen island to gaze at me steadily.  “How do you know him?”

Now was the point that I hoped I was a far better liar than Tristan kept telling me I was.  “Austin introduced us.  They went to school together.”

Tia nodded slowly. “Must be pretty good friends.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “That actually was me in the pictures.”

“Are you seeing him?”

“Not like that,” I said. “I haven’t been with anyone since...” my voice trailed away as my throat tightened more.

Garrett was like a ghost that haunted me.  Even all these years later, I ached for him in ways I couldn’t even fully fathom, much less fight.

Tia nodded slowly. “Have...have you seen him?  Talked to him?”

“Glimpses only,” I said, turning away.  “Do you want some coffee?”

“Are you asking me to stay?”

I shrugged.  “Knowing you, Tee, I doubt you’re leaving before you’re fully satisfied with the results of your interrogation.”

“Interrogation,” she repeated, though I could hear the teasing smile in her voice without looking back.  “Well, I always was good at that, wasn’t I?”

“The best,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder.  “Do you want some coffee or not?”

Her smile gentled and she nodded slightly.  “Yeah. Coffee would be good.”

I plucked a spare mug from the tree on the counter, turning on the brewer and leaning against the counter to wait, playing with my own empty mug.  Behind me, Tia sighed softly.

“It’s good to see you,” she said almost tentatively.  “Even if I had to see you on the news first.”

“Did you see it last night or this morning?” I asked her.

“Five AM,” she said. “Spent all morning trying to track you down instead of actually doing my job.”  Her lips thinned.  “You had me real worried, Autumn.  Really, really worried.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m good at that.”  I looked away again.  “Sorry about the scare.  Sorry you had to see me on the news.”

“I’m—I’m not really that upset about that,” Tia admitted.  “But I am upset that you didn’t come to me when they took your brother. Why didn’t you?”

“Because we retired,” I said, staring at the thin stream of coffee as it dripped into the carafe. “Because it didn’t seem fair to try to drag you back into something that you’d managed to get out of.  All of you guys have lives.  For Austin and I, making sure that nothing bad happened because of what we used to fight was our job, was our life.  If we could do that and let you guys keep on keeping on?  Why wouldn’t we do that, y’know?”

“How long have you known that she was back?” Tia asked.  “Or—or at least her forces were back?”

“Austin told me about a month before the men showed up to take him,” I said, starting to pour the coffee. I filled her mug first, then mine, and brought both over to the island.  I kept talking as I got the cream and sugar and brought them over.  “I don’t know how long he knew before he told me, but I think it was a while.  He was always watching, always digging.  He was better at it than any of us.”

“Well, that’s how he figured out our secret in the first place, isn’t it?  It’s not like it was any kind of twin-sense.”

I choked on a laugh that could have easily turned into a sob, shaking my head.  “You’re sure as hell right about that.”  For all the jokes and theories about twins having some kind of innate connection that bordered on the psychic, it hadn’t really been that way for Austin and I.  Every so often one of us would have a bad feeling about the other’s state of being that came true, but not enough for either of us to believe it was anything other than coincidental.  As for when I’d picked up my wand for the first time, if Austin had noticed anything inside of the first year, he never let on.  It wasn’t until later that he’d started to sort out that there was something strange going on with me and my friends from school.  He’d gotten curious enough to start digging and it wasn’t long before he’d stumbled into what was going on.

No matter how hard any of us ever tried to keep a secret, somehow Austin could always figure out what it was.  That was his superpower.

He’d always said it was the only one he needed.

I miss him so much.

He was all the blood family I had.

Now even that had been taken away from me.

“So he found something,” Tia said.  “Pursued it, didn’t tell you anything until later, and then shit hit the fan.”

“In a major way.”  I scrubbed a hand over my face.  “Before you got here I was getting ready to go through his files again, see if I could figure anything out, see if there was something I’d missed the last dozen times I looked through them.”  I sighed.  “I don’t know.  I feel like there’s something he buried in all of the information that he gathered that I just haven’t found, one piece of the puzzle that I’m missing that’ll help me put it all together.”

“That also sounds like him.”  Tia stirred some cream and sugar into her coffee, staring into the mug for a few seconds before she looked at me again.  “Did you report it?”

I startled.  “Report what?”

“Austin’s kidnapping.”

Wincing, I shook my head. “No.  How could I?  For all I know, she’s got people in the military industrial complex or law enforcement and they’re the ones that took him.”  The thought made me sick but it was entirely possible.  Before we’d managed to banish her, Kalstrixa had people everywhere, embedded in some of the highest levels of governance and law enforcement.  It had been a terrifying thing for a bunch of teenagers to face.

In some ways, I was silently grateful that a new crop of teenagers wouldn’t be the ones facing her return.

At the same time, fighting her alone didn’t have much appeal, either.

I can’t ask them to help me.  They hung it up.  Let them stay retired.

Let them stay safe. As long as they’re not involved, they’ll be safe.

As long as they don’t suit up, they’re safe.

Please, let them stay safe.

Tia chewed her lip. “I guess I didn’t think about it that way.  The men that were going after WestCorp—”

“I don’t know what they were after,” I said.  “Not yet. That’s part of what I was going to start trying to figure out when you got here.”  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  “Tristan was going to check into some things on his end to see exactly what his company’s getting set to do at that facility.”

She nodded slowly.  “I wish you’d called me.”

I just shook my head. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“You shouldn’t be fighting alone.  Someone’s got to watch your back.”

I tried not to think about how long I’d been doing it alone.  She didn’t need to know that I’d been doing it for seven months—since before Austin was taken.

There was a big part of me that thought my actions were at least one reason that he’d been taken away from me.

Every action I took now put him in danger, but I knew that he wouldn’t want me to stop fighting. Even though he hadn’t confided in me exactly what he’d found, he’d said enough for me to know how high the stakes were and how much he believed that we needed to take action.

I couldn’t just stop now. That would have been a betrayal and my brother was the one person in the whole universe that I wouldn’t ever betray.

Not in this life or any other.

“Autumn?”

I jerked, blinking at her. “What?”

“You got really quiet,” Tia said.  “It was like you weren’t even here for a minute.”

“Maybe I wasn’t,” I whispered, staring into my mug again.  I took a slow sip of coffee.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  Tia reached across the counter and put her hand on my arm.  I shivered a little.  She bit her lip.  “I’m sorry to barge in and demand answers.”

“I probably deserved it,” I said.  “Like I said. You didn’t deserve to find out about this from the evening news.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “But it’s okay.  Sounds like it’s been rough all over for you.”  She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’m guessing Rin doesn’t know?”

A shudder went through me and I shook my head almost convulsively.  “No.  And neither of us are going to tell her.”

Tia blinked.  “Wait, what?  You don’t think she deserves to know?”

“They broke up, Tia. A year ago.”

“He was going to marry her, Autumn.  You don’t think she deserves to know that something’s happened to him?”

It was almost enough to bring me to tears again.  My hands tightened around my mug.  “Just because they were going to get married doesn’t mean that she deserves this level of pain, Tia.”

Her sharp breath told me that she knew exactly what I meant.  “Oh.  Oh, Autumn, that’s not what I’m implying.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, my voice cracking.  “I’ve already thought it.  I just hope I’m wrong.  Is it awful to hope that they’re just holding him hostage and maybe punishing him for my actions but not trying to do that to him?”

“No,” she breathed. “No, Autumn, it’s not awful.  None of us would ever wish what happened to Garrett on anyone.  You know that.  God, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to remind you of that.”

“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of it anyway,” I said.  I had to take another drink to loosen my throat enough to keep talking.  “I don’t know what I’ll have to do to save Austin, Tia, but I’m not asking any of you to come back to this.  I want you guys safe.”

“None of us are safe if she’s back,” Tia said, her gaze steady and her voice firm.  “Nothing that means anything to us will be safe—no one that means anything to us will be safe if she’s still out there, Autumn.  You know that.  You might not want to, but in your heart, you know it.  That’s why she came after Austin—above and beyond whatever he uncovered and couldn’t leave alone.  She came after him because he means something to you—to all of us.” Her hand tightened on my arm.  I swallowed hard and just stared at the countertop.

I knew the words were coming before she said them, I just didn’t want to hear them.

“Let me help,” Tia said softly.  “Please, Autumn.  Don’t shut me out.  Don’t shut any of us out.  He’s family to us, too.”

I couldn’t deny her that. I shivered, wanting nothing more than to shrivel up and blow away like a dry leaf on the wind.  “Tia, if you pick it back up, you might never be able to set it down again.  This could destroy your life, everything that you’ve worked for.”

“If I don’t and she wins, everything that I’ve built for myself since we hung it up isn’t going to matter anyway.”  She took both of my hands in hers.  I couldn’t help but stare at the engagement ring on her left hand.  Austin had mentioned to me that she was getting married shortly before he’d disappeared.  He’d seen the announcement on social media a few days before an engagement announcement hit the papers.  I was happy for her.

I was also terrified.

Her fingers tightened around mine.  “I won’t build my future on rubble of yours and Austin’s, Autumn.  It’s not in me to do that to either of you.  You’re going to let me help in whatever way I can—whatever way I have to.  You’re not going to argue with me about it, either.  Y’dig?”

“I dig,” I whispered, then smiled faintly.  “What are you going to tell your fiancé when you start missing dates and not coming home until late?”

“I guess that’s going to have to depend on group consensus,” she said with a faint smile.  “Because let’s be real here.  It is only a matter of time before Rin shows up looking for you and Austin because I’m guessing she knows where you guys live.”

“Actually, she doesn’t.” I shook my head, smiling weakly at the shocked look that crossed her face. “Austin always either picked her up or met her somewhere, and they would always go back to her place.  She hasn’t known where we lived in ten years.”

Tia let out a low whistle. “Well, then.  Either way, she’s going to be hunting you down.  She might not find you as fast, but she’ll find you regardless.”

“You think she’s going to be mad.”

“Oh, I think she’s going to be absolutely furious.”  Tia grinned. “Good thing you’ll have me to back you up and help deflect the mighty Sullivan Rage.”

“You’re going to make me tell all of them, aren’t you?”

“You don’t think you should? That we should?”

Tristan warned you.

I closed my eyes for a second.  “I just wanted to keep you guys out of it.  Safe.”

“And I love you for it,” Tia said.  “I also hate you for it.  C’mon, Autumn.  All of us might as well be sisters.  We hate and love each other in equal measures and god knows that sometimes we don’t like each other very much, but at the end of the day, we’ve always got each other’s backs.  Hell hath no fury like a girl whose sister’s been threatened.”  The ghost of a smile curved her lips.  “Or, in this case, our not-so-innocent and beloved brother.”

I stared down into my coffee again.  “Well. I guess I’d better get dressed, then, huh?”

“If we want to catch Rin before she’s completely on the warpath?  Probably, yeah.”  Tia swirled her coffee in her mug.  “Should we call before we go see her?”

“No,” I said, gulping down my coffee in a few swallows.  “She’ll only want to know why I need to talk to her and I’m not going to break this news over the phone.”  Even though it might be easier if I did, she doesn’t deserve that.  I’ll eat her wrath in the face if I have to—hell. She’ll probably beat the snot out of me for not telling her sooner.

Still.  She and Austin had broken up—however temporary or not it might have been.  Maybe she’d just chalked his silence up to that.

Maybe she was over him.

Either way, I was going to find out whether I liked it or not.

“Let me get dressed,” I said quietly.  “Then we’ll go.”

“Sounds good,” Tia said, watching me as I crossed the living room.  “Do you mind if we make a stop on the way?”

I paused at the entrance to the hallway that led back to the bedrooms, arching a brow at her.  “No.  Where are we stopping?”

“My place,” she said, dark eyes sparkling.  “There’s something I need to pick up.”

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[normal-thoughts-official]

A clear path

Read it on Ao3

Rating: T

Relationships: Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Meliorn/Raphael Santiago, Izzy/Meliorn (background), Izzy/Clary/Maia (background), Maia/Simon (background)

Tags: polyamori, open relationships, pre-relationship saphael, non-binary Meliorn, set in the future

Summary: It's Raphael's first time going to what Meliorn has dubbed "polycule game night". Just him, his partner, his partner's girlfriend, her girlfriends, and one of her girlfriend's boyfriend.One of these may have some things to say to him.

(Can be read as a standalone)

Part 2

It doesn’t feel weird.

It feels supremely weird.

Not their whole - thing. He doesn’t even mind seeing Meliorn flirt with Isabelle, or blink an eye when he sees Maia give Clary a kiss on the cheek and immediately give Simon another. He’s a vampire hanging out with faeries, werewolves and demon-hunters, what’s six people who are all in relationships with each other?

He is the one who's weird.

He hasn’t been surrounded by this many people in - ever. Even in his clan, he mostly kept to the sidelines, focused on his plans, the war, making sure everyone was safe and okay. He hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in “hanging out” with anyone, let alone such a mixed group, with a lot of people he doesn’t know.

He’s on the couch, watching everyone, taking a sip of his bloody Mary - minus the Mary - and soaking in their dynamics. He doesn’t feel like an invader, but he doesn’t feel like an insider, either.

Maybe it’s just because it’s his first time.

“You okay in there?”

He looks up at Simon, a little shocked. He wasn’t expecting to be - for the lack of a better word, noticed. Usually, when he sticks to the sidelines, people let him, and forget him in there.

Then again, Lewis has never been known for following protocol.

“What?” he asks, when Raphael’s stunned silence stretches for too long.

(Well, too long for him, anyway. Simon doesn’t exactly have a good silence tolerance)

(Then again, maybe Raphael has too much)

“Nothing, I’m just shocked to hear you say such a short sentence,” he deadpans, taking another sip of his drink. It’s an instinctive kind of reaction, to try to get people to leave. He’s been cultivating walls between him and the world for a long time now.

Not that they ever work with Simon. “Oh, I’m just warming up. You made the mistake of answering me, so the rant can start at any minute. I even have a few options for you to pick out,” he says as he sits down besides Raphael, stretching his legs and draping his arm over the backrest. He’s not in Raphael’s space in any way, though, and he knows that’s deliberate. Simon overthinks even when he’s not paying attention to it.

Raphael takes another sip of his drink, this time to hide his smile. “I see,” he says.

Simon smiles back at him, big and careless. “No, but really, are you okay? You’ve just been sitting here all night - I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that, you do you. If you’re happy with it that’s fine. I’m just not too sure you’re happy with it - you have that sour face going on - then again that’s just your usual face. Not in a bad way! It’s just that, well, you always look a little grumpy. Anyway. I guess what I’m trying to ask is, are you sitting here because you want to, or because you feel like you have to? If you just want to, I’ll totally leave, promise.”

Raphael’s glass hovers midair, his hand stuck in a non-motion. This is the thing about Simon - if he had just asked if Raphael is okay, it would be easy to say yes. He is okay. But then he feels the need to elaborate, and suddenly the question becomes much more complicated. Refined, even. And then the answer is not that simple anymore, because it’s not that easy to bypass.

It’s really annoying.

Then again, it’s not like he needs to keep finding loopholes. He’s not a Seelie. He can lie.

He doesn’t. “I’m just getting used to it,” he says. “Too many people. I don’t know- how things work yet.” Then, because he can see the way Simon perks up, clearly about to tell him to get drunk so he can unwind or something equally crazy and stupid, “and I guess it’s weird to be here with my ex,” he adds.

That’s not a lie either. It wasn’t the most important thing on his mind, but seeing Isabelle does kind of struck a nerve.

She has apologized for- everything that happened. A long time ago, too.

It’s not that he holds a grudge, because he doesn’t. He knows he has his share of guilt for letting her drag him into it. He knows he has his own sins to look at before he can judge others.

You’re a good man, he remembers Meliorn saying to him all that time ago, when they were still acquaintances starting to cross the line to friends. Way better than you think you are. These sacrifices, these battles you fight to prove your worth, they’re pointless. You will never atone to these sins, because you did not commit them.

It was so honest, so simple, that it took Raphael a while to even remember that Meliorn can’t physically lie. For one magical, miraculous moment, Raphael believed them fully, without a single reason other than that it felt right.

After that moment, it was all but obvious where they were going. The path to it had been long - taken years to complete, in fact - but it was strolled through, not fought. Somehow, Raphael didn’t even notice it happening until he had arrived here.

At game night with his partner, his partner’s girlfriend, her other girlfriends, and one of her girlfriend’s boyfriend.

Maybe it is a little weird.

“You and Izzy have seen each other before,” Simon points out.

Raphael hums, lost in thought. “Yes. Many times. But not when she’s not a shadowhunter representative, or the head of the New York Institute, or a weapons master, or our ally. It’s been years since I’ve been in a room with just Isabelle,” he says, “and we share a partner, of all things.” He lets out a little laugh, although with years of practice it sounds more like a snicker.

“You’re telling me? I have two exes here, and they’re both dating my partner,” Simon says dramatically, and still somehow not sounding serious in the least.

Raphael blinks. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that,” because he hadn’t. He always forgets about Simon’s - whatever it was - with Clary. Imagining her with any man is weird, but then again, he pretty much only got to know her after she came out. And Simon’s time with Isabelle was short-lived, even shorter than Raphael’s.

“Well, now that you know it, I bet you can’t unsee,” Simon laughs. “Two entire partners other than me, and they’re my only two exes. Our dating pool is seriously limited.”

Raphael’s lips are twitching. “Well, Maia did have other options. I guess you were just unlucky,” he reasons.

“Me? Unlucky? Impossible,” Simon deadpans. “God has always worked in my favor, this is a well known fact.”

Raphael tips his head a little bit, humoring him. “Then I suppose we’re just drawn to people with similar tastes.”

“Good line,” Meliorn says, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. They were right in front of Raphael the whole time, of course, but they have this way of making others feel like they made a dramatic entrance every time they speak. “Very smooth. Your courtship abilities have improved tremendously,” they finish.

Raphael chokes on himself. “What? I’m not courting him,” he objects, as Simon himself has a similar immortal heart attack beside him.

“Yeah, no, definitely not courting,” he continues, “I don’t even think Raphael can court anyone! I mean, not that he can’t, but I don’t think he’d try to. Well, but you two are dating, so there’s that, but I just kind of always assumed you were the one doing the courting - not that I’ve been thinking about you guy’s personal lives or anything! Really, I don’t want to know- well, not that you can’t talk about it, of course, I just-”

“I see. My mistake,” Meliorn replies, doing a little bow and leaving Simon mid-rant.

They both look stunned for a second, and then Raphael erupts into laughter. Meliorn is truly something, he thinks.

By the time he’s quieted down, there are a few tears on the corners of his eyes, and he wipes them with abandon. When his eyes focus again, Simon is looking at him like he just witnessed the birth of a star.

“What?” Raphael asks, instantly guarded.

Simon shakes his head as if getting rid of a hallucination. “Nothing,” he answers. Then, because he knows that’s way too short not to get Raphael suspicious, “I can see why you two are attracted to each other.”

A part of Raphael wants to ask him what he means by that. Instead, he looks at his drink and smiles. “Yeah,” he says, knowing the way his eyes are glinting.

For once, Simon isn’t the one to break the silence. He watches quietly as Raphael allows himself that moment of vulnerability, of truth. Something he’d deem unthinkable just a few years ago, before he started to actually see a family in his clan, but there he is.

Slowly, he comes to, turning to Simon. "I’m sorry, you know,” he says.

“For what?”

“For everything- about how things were when we first met. For being an accomplice in Turning you. For the fights.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Simon answers easily, waving it away like that moment didn’t singlehandedly ruin his life. “You were the one who let me go. I know you had been working to gain Camille’s trust way too hard to let your whole plan be ruined by some random mundane. You risked enough by freeing me.”

“I was trapped by the sunlight,” Raphael argues.

“They were leaving. You let me go and lied to Camille.”

Raphael just huffs.

Simon sighs. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you’re a nice guy, deep down?” he asks. Then, before Raphael can think of something to say to that, “Besides, I’m the one who’s sorry. You were trying to protect your people and I almost ruined that,” Simon muses, “I put you all at risk because I was too blinded by Clary. And then myself.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, “I wouldn’t have actually hurt your sister, you know.”

Raphael closes his eyes and lets the now familiar wave of- feelings - guilt and hatred and anger and despair and love and grief - wash over him. It hasn’t become less strong, not really. It’s Raphael who’s become stronger to deal with it. Rosa is the one topic he’ll always be sensitive over, the one grudge he’ll hold with the world. He promised he’d be there for his sister. He promised he wouldn’t let her suffer like he did. And then he never got to see her again.

He remembers how, when Simon sent him the picture, the first thing he felt was jealousy. Before fear, before anger, before sadness, all he could do was hate Simon because he got to be there, with her, under the sunlight, and hear her voice.

But… “I know,” he says. Because that is also the truth.

“I know that doesn’t make it right,” Simon is quick to amend, “I should have never- It was fucked up,” he lets out a high pitched, awkward laugh. Then, after taking a deep breath, “I guess I didn’t- I didn’t understand all that was at stake for you, at the time.”

Raphael’s laugh is humourless this time. “Well, you knew shadowhunters before you even knew other downworlders. Doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t understand,” he says, knowing that he’s being bitter, knowing that he’s not being completely fair.

But Simon just smiles sadly at him. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess it was a complicated time.”

When isn’t it?. Raphael thinks of living in Mexico, poor and hungry, of him mom trying to sell enchiladas to get some food home after the death of his father. He thinks of moving to the United States, of not knowing a word of english, of shutting down and stopping to speak when he didn’t know how to say things anymore. Of people hating his language, and also the way he spoke their language. Of people hating his skin color. His accent. Of not understanding why he couldn’t greet people with a kiss on the cheek anymore. Of eating weird food. Of being made fun of for his food. Of being Turned. Of wandering the streets, crying and gripping a crucifix. Of being found. Of being thrown into a war. Of joining the clan of someone he didn’t like or trust. Of another war. Of getting his clan back after finally, finally getting rid of her. Of meeting Meliorn. Of being here.

“Yeah,” he ends up saying, “but it’s a better time now.”

Simon smiles, looking ahead where Clary, Izzy and Maia are fighting over a game of MeliUno - regular Uno, except Meliorn gets to see everyone’s cards and gives the most cryptic possible clues of what they are, and they have to figure it out. “It is,” Simon finally agrees.

There’s silence between them. Companiable, nice. Shared, not fought.

It doesn’t last long, of course. Simon stretches out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says, “the version of you in nicer times.”

Raphael takes his hand, and doesn’t hide his smile. He wonders if that, too, is opening a path he can stroll into.

[zenithlux]

Cadence Update - CH 11

Catch up on the story here!

Also, if you’re interested, I’ll be doing a writing stream this afternoon about three hours after this post. If that’s something that interests you (or if you want some hopefully interesting music for background noise) you can find me here!

In which Roxy proposes an interesting arrangement.

Drifting beneath the horizon Body’s weak but I”m trying To make it to shore But I’m falling short I need you more

Anchor - Skillet

Over the next few weeks, Vergil kept himself busy so as not to alert Dante to the in-progress agreement with Roxy. The two had yet to fully decide what exactly Vergil would be doing to ‘help’ as he had so eloquently put it during his moment of motivation. For now, he kept his phone close with Dia’s number in case of an emergency. Roxy herself promised to call should anything happen, and the two messaged back and forth throughout the day. He’d visited twice for dinner, but those had both been accidents more than anything. The intention had been to check on her after he hadn’t been able to message back due to jobs. Both times he’d ended up watching from the doorway as she finished up a meal that had easily taken her hours to prepare. Which, of course, meant he felt obligated to share it with her (she was very convincing), which had led to more small talk; conversations he no longer minded. 

Occasionally, he’d gone hunting with her, both to see what she could do at full capacity and learn as much as he could about Kuro without directly asking. She, however, seemed to recognize his intentions and was happy to summon Kuro in a multitude of forms at any given time. The dragon spent most of his time in his smallest form, and the two fought with coordination that others could only dream of. It reminded him the most of Shadow, as Kuro moved with an elegance that in no way fit his bulky form. 

All of this, however, had shown Vergil one important thing; Roxy was very, very lonely. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have been all that surprising when- after weeks of discreet meetings and messages- she showed up at Devil May Cry ready to announce her intentions to the heavens.

To her credit, it had been a slow day (as if she could possibly have known such a thing). By late afternoon, Dante had all but declared the work-day over, and was now lounging at his desk with the phone conveniently unplugged. Vergil, who had done far more than his fair share of jobs over the last two weeks, was content to read on the couch that he had gone out of his way to purchase. And today’s book of choice was another one of Roxy’s recommendations - his third so far. He never thought he’d be interested in fantasy books, but the ones she’d given him were all fascinating, well written, and always left him with something to ponder whenever he was forced to put it down. And, thankfully, Dante was distracted, so Vergil had enjoyed nearly two hours of complete silence. 

So when the door opened, Vergil wasn’t sure who was more surprised: Dante, himself, or Roxy. It didn’t help that she looked anxious in her blue sundress (had she worn a dress before? Vergil couldn’t remember), and kept tugging at her skirt. Aki hopped from her shoulder and onto her head with a loud chirp in greeting. That, of course, made Dante grin, and Vergil stubbornly ignored the way his brother started wiggling his eyebrows in the most overdramatic way possible. “Welcome, Sunshine!” He said as he hopped out of his seat and tossed his magazine to the side. It missed the trash can, but at least it was out of view. “I’m glad you’re here to brighten up our day.”

When Roxy’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, a summoned sword careened into Dante’s shoulder. She gasped, eyes wide as she took a step towards him in a mixture of confusion and a genuine desire to help. But Vergil smoothly intercepted her, book in hand with a very obvious bookmark peeking out from the edge of the pages. Her eyes flickered to him, back to his brother, then to the book, where they lit up as her anxiety simply melted away. “You enjoy it, then?”

“Yes,” Vergil said simply. 

“Hey!” Dante said as he yanked the sword from his shoulder. “I’m the injured one.” 

“Oh… uh…” 

“He’s fine,” Vergil said. “Did you need something?”

Her gaze slipped from his again; a surefire sign that she wasn’t 100% certain she was doing the right thing. “Well,” She said slowly. “I heard through the grapevine that you might need some cash.”

Said grapevine was likely Vergil complaining about Dante’s inability to save any money ever, but he wasn’t about to ask. “We might,” Dante said as he swiped his half-empty beer bottle off the desk. “Why?”

“I’m looking to hire.”

Vergil nearly dropped his book as his gaze snapped to her. Dante spat out his drink, swearing as he dropped the bottle back on the desk. Except it shattered, dampening every unsorted piece of paper it touched. And while Vergil might have once chastised him for that - as Dante was never the one to deal with such a mess - his mind was a tad preoccupied. “Hire?” Vergil said. “For… what exactly?”

Her eyes drifted away for a brief moment, but he felt an odd sense of pride when she met his gaze before speaking again. “I need more help than I thought.” Vergil’s eyebrow shot up, and he was surprised when that somehow earned him a small smile. “So,” She continued, eyes flickering to Dante instead. “I’ve got an odd job for Vergil that pays well, and offers free room and board.”

Vergil wasn’t certain whether to be impressed by her negotiation tactics, or offended that she was using him as the chip to barter with. Dante laughed as he plopped back down in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “Is that so?” He said. “Well color me intrigued.”

Roxy stared at him. “What kind of phrase is that?”

Dante waved at her dismissively. “What’s the job, sunshine?”

This time, she turned back to Vergil. “I wish to hire you as a full-time caretaker,” She said. “I got some people to fix up the apartment down the hall, so that’s yours to use however you’d like; no rent payments or bills required. I’ll buy all the groceries, whatever you want, and if any of the furniture, fixtures, painting, or anything else displeases you, I can get those changed too.”

Vergil stared at her. “Are you… certain?”

She nodded, and that same, infuriating sadness filled her eyes again. “Things haven’t been going as well as I’d hoped.”

“Then why…?” Vergil trailed off and regained his composure before continuing. “Did something happen?”

She was quiet for a moment, followed by, “I tried to go shopping today. It didn’t go well.”

Vergil didn’t know what to think of that, but Dante practically appearing in front of them was enough to stop that train of thought. “So what you’re saying is,” the younger twin said with a lackadaisical grin on his face. It was at that moment that Vergil realized he didn’t have a clue what Dante was thinking. “You,” He pointed at her,“Will pay us,” He pointed at himself, “to have my brother,” He pointed at Vergil. “live next to you?”

Roxy huffed. “He’d have to do a lot more than just that, but that’s something to be discussed between him and myself if we reach an agreement.” 

“And what exactly is this agreement for?” Dante said.

“I’m aware I’m taking your partner away from you for an extended period of time,” Roxy said. The way she was speaking… it was more professional than Vergil had ever heard her speak before. But she ran her own business, didn’t she? Discussing terms and contracts with clients was likely second nature. Vergil just never thought that he’d be the one caught in the middle. The asset, so to speak. He would have been more averse to the idea, if he hadn’t already technically agreed to it. This was really just a formality. “Not that he couldn’t come back if you needed the help. But fewer jobs means less income, yes?”

“Not exactly,” Vergil said. 

“Yep,” Dante said. Vergil’s eyes narrowed, and Dante took a long step back before he spoke again. “I can pick up some more myself, but there would be a significant drop in our income.”

“How much?” Roxy said.

“Don’t let him swindle you,” Vergil said.

“Now why would I do that!?” Dante said. 

“She’s not paying for your pizza debt.”

“Of course not.”

“Nor is she paying off your debts to anyone else.”

Dante laughed nervously. “Yep.”

“Bills only.”

“And here I thought I was negotiating with her.”

“Technically, “Vergil said. “She is negotiating with me. This is a simple courtesy, as she is clearly aware of your terrible finances.”

“And whose fault would that be?” Dante said.

“Don’t you dare blame me for that.”

“I meant for telling her.”

“Send me the information for your electricity and rent payments,” Roxy interrupted. “I’ll take care of them both for as long as Vergil helps me.”

Now that was generous, and the slack-jawed look Dante gave her proved it. “W-well,” He said. “I think that’s fair. What do you think, Verge? You’re the one that has to do whatever she says,” Dante shrugged. “Your call.”

Vergil’s gaze drifted back to hers. He wasn’t outright opposed to the idea. A formal job would keep Dante off of his back, for the most part, as his brother would have to make an actual effort to tease him over it. Living elsewhere was an interesting prospect. And, knowing what her apartment looked like, Vergil was certain he could make the place his own in no time. And that’s what humans did… right? They moved away from their families. Found their own jobs. Lived their own lives…

“How soon do you need me?” He said. 

Relief swept through her, and Vergil was fascinated at how quickly she returned to her usual, upbeat self. “If you’re willing to go shopping with me today, then not for another few weeks.”

Vergil glanced at Dante but looked away when he realized his brother was staring at him with a knowing grin. They both knew what Vergil wanted to say. They both knew that he wanted to go through with this plan. He could tolerate Roxy’s presence. He often enjoyed it - a far cry from the frustration he felt around the rest of his family. And he wanted to help. He’d committed to helping her, and he meant that. 

But…

“You know,” Dante said. “Keeping an eye on you for this long has gotten rather… boring.”

Vergil fought the urge to glare and simply closed his eyes instead. The last thing he wanted was to rush blindly into something like this. But there was no point in delaying the inevitable. “I also tire of babysitting you, little brother,” He said with a trademark smirk as he looked at Roxy. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I prefer your company much more than his.”

Roxy laughed her cheeks flushing a bright crimson. “Don’t be mean,” She said with a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Vergil froze, eyes wide, but she had already turned back to his brother, discussing something that he wasn’t entirely certain of. Why did he feel so… strange? She hadn’t touched his skin, and his jacket was far too thick for him to really feel much. But the thought of someone… the idea that she was that comfortable with him…

“Verge?” 

He blinked once before pulling his thoughts back. “Yes?” He said though it came out rougher than he had intended. And the concern on Roxy’s face made his heart twist in yet another unexpected way. Why? Why did she make him feel this way? Why was every reaction to her so… visceral?

“Is everything alright?” She said. “Did I…?”

“Yes,” He said quickly before correcting himself. “Everything is fine.”

“Good!” Dante said as he yanked them both together. Roxy flinched, but she didn’t topple over this time. Small mercies, Vergil supposed. “Because if you’re going through with this new job of yours, then I’m going with you.”

Alarm swept through him. “What!?” He and Roxy said, both yanking themselves away. Except she was clumsier than usual and smacked right into him. And while the contact should have been a minor inconvenience, Vergil found himself reaching for her instead. Except he didn’t realize it until she had fallen straight into his arms after he had knelt to catch her. Their eyes met, and he was certain she felt as confused as he did. 

But there was something about her eyes...

Have they always been that striking? 

Dante sighed so loudly that even Vergi flinched at the noise. “Alright, alright.” He said. “Be as dramatic as you want, you’re still not getting out of this trip.” He beckoned to Vergil. “I’ll make the portal if you want.” A second summoned sword shot into the younger twin. This time, it knocked him clean off his feet. Dante simply stuck his thumbs up into the air. “Got it. No Yamato for me,” before letting his arms flop against the floor. 

“And he calls us dramatic?” Roxy muttered. 

Vergil glanced at her a second time before he realized that, once again, neither of them had moved. “Shopping, yes?” He said as he swiftly pulled them both to their feet. 

“Yep,” She said, smoothing down her dress far too many times. “We can grab things for you too… if you’re still...” She trailed off. 

“The terms are acceptable,” Vergil said. “But I will need a few weeks to finish things here before then.”

When her smile returned, Vergil realized he was more than glad to see it. “Of course,” She said. “Whatever works best for you.”

“So are we going shopping or…?” Dante said.

Vergil resisted the urge to roll his eyes, keeping his attention on her when he reached for Yamato instead. “It seems our present company is impatient.”

Dante groaned. “This is technically my house, you know.”

“I thought it was both of yours?” Roxy said.

“Well actually…”

“Enough,” Vergil said as he cut open a portal. “Feel free to lie there for the rest of the night. Roxy and I can…” 

But Dante was on his feet and through the portal before Vergil could finish that sentence. Vergil sighed but was surprised to see Roxy’s head tilted in thought. “What?” He said. 

“Did you, by chance, open that portal to a different location?”

Vergil stared at her, his fingers twitching against Yamato. “I’m afraid,” He said with a small bite of reluctance, “That I did not think that far ahead.” 

Roxy laughed. “Next time.” She stepped through the portal with confidence, and Vergil found himself staring at the empty void before him far longer than he should have. But then a voice radiated back at him - Just me and you, sunshine? This will be a fun day then! - and he quickly scowled and followed after them.

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