#i tried to capture it but maybe ill do better next time i draw her

[ilonacho]

My wife came up with the headcanon that her legal name is Crown to go with the dentist theme, but she changed it because Velvet and Veneer rolls off the tongue better👑

[forzalando]

The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, mentions of alcohol

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: hi friends! this will be a multipart (probably 3-4 parts) George fic inspired by Bridgerton. i’m so excited for it and i hope you all are too :) thank you for reading!

The start of the social season had been, as you had expected, the topic of conversation around the ton for the past few weeks. It was impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers of who would snag an engagement in the next few months.

Particularly, people had been interested in who the Queen would declare the “diamond of the season”. Your mother was positively convinced it would be you, but you had other plans in mind for your life other than parties and dresses and loveless marriage. However, when the Queen took one look upon your face, she quickly declared you incomparable, as she had done the same for Daphne Bridgerton, now the Duchess, a few years prior, and your fate was sealed.

As a member of the distinguished and esteemed Y/L/N family, and as the eldest daughter, you had a trivial, yet necessary and important role to play, even if you longed to free yourself from it. Your mother and father, as wonderful as they might be, had high expectations for you, and you would not and could not let them down.

Your mother fluffed your hair and primped your dress in preparation of the Danbury Ball, admiring you fondly and gushing about how beautiful you looked.

“Maybe your luck will be as wonderful as the Duchess, her love match was indeed unprecedented but oh so joyous. Do you think your fortune might align with hers, dear?”

“Mama,” you sighed. “I have no interest in a life like the Duchess’s. All the parties, teas, and properness. Besides, there isn’t another Duke for me to marry.”

“I did not mean that you would have to marry a Duke to share her fate; only that you may marry for love.”

You huffed as you turned away from the mirror. In truth, you had no interest in marrying for love, or marrying at all for that matter, but the duty of an eldest daughter was set in stone.

All too soon, you arrived at the Lady Danbury’s spectacular first ball of the season; the sea of gowns and tailored coats causing a queasy feeling to settle in your stomach, and you wished with all your might that anything at all would ruin the festivities.

A glass of champagne was placed in your grasp and you let your eyes wander around the room; Lady Eloise Bridgerton, a close friend of yours, donned a similar look on her face though her mother enthusiastically tried to get her to waltz across the dance floor.

Glancing to your left, you noticed Lord Farley, a rather grotesque older man, eyeing you up and down; his beady eyes causing the queasy feeling to return and for your feet to take off in what could almost be considered a sprint.

When he was no longer in your line of sight, you began to slow down your gait, but a shoulder roughly bumped into yours and an unattractive yelp escaped your lips.

The unmistakable chuckle that followed your outburst made you groan due to your detestation of the man you knew you had bumped into.

Lord George Weasley; a man, nay, a boy, with hair of fire and a wit to match. You had known him for years as you were the same age and his sister Ginevra was the best of friends with your younger sister.

“I want to believe, Miss Y/L/N, that you would not take such drastic measures to capture my attention, but I must say I am flattered nonetheless,” George teased, his hand reaching out to steady you as you recovered from the collision.

“Mr. Weasley, I believe you to know me better than that,” you spoke with gritted teeth as you swatted his hand away. “Besides, there are plenty of young women here that would kiss the ground you walk on. Might you bother them instead?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that? I’ve noticed that you still have room on your dance card?”

“I always have room left on my dance card.”

You tried to step around George and escape his company, but his impossible height made it so easy for him to evade your attempts.

“Is that by choice or because you’re just so pleasant to spend time with?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Suppose a bit of both. Now, if you would be so kind, I’m quite parched and would love another glass of champagne.”

“Perfect, I shall accompany you.”

George Weasley, you surmised very early on, was nothing but a flirt. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him a rake, because as far as you knew he was an honorable man, but he was also most intolerable with his boyish charm, sense of humor, beautiful eyes…

Yes, you were quite sure that he was entirely intolerable.

“Have you told your mother you have no interest in procuring a husband, yet?” he mused, breaking you out of your trance as he carefully handed you a glass of champagne.

“Don’t call it procuring as if it’s a transaction. And no, I haven’t. Do you think I’d be standing here alive if I had?”

“Good point,” George hummed as his eyes surveyed the room, no doubt searching for the next woman so unlucky enough to be graced with his presence.

“How is your family?” you asked as you sipped on your flute of bubbling liquid.

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking. Work has been a bit hard on Dad but – ”

Before George could finish, a man approached you and bowed; taking the hand not holding the champagne flute and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss Y/L/N, would you like to join me for a dance?”

You noticed George looking on angrily at the sight before him, probably because his ego couldn’t take the interruption.

“I’m flattered, Lord Rainier? I believe?” When you received no objections, you continued. “As I was saying, I’m flattered by your offer but I simply must decline. I am feeling a bit ill and all that spinning might make me sick.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps another time?”

You gave him a small, soft smile and let out a sigh of relief when he walked away. Turning back to George, you urged him to continue. While you held him in contempt, or so you told yourself, you did enjoy his family as they were all simply lovely.

“You were saying, George?”

“Right, work has been a bit hard on Dad, after his accident a few months ago. He’s been doing better but Charlie had to take a break from his travels to come home and help out since he’s the eldest. Fred and Angelina are expecting again, if you haven’t heard. They’re hoping for a girl this time.”

“Maybe if you were more like your brother you’d be married and having children by now,” you teased.

He gasped and clutched his hand over his heart, drawing the attention of anyone near.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

Much to your dismay, you laughed at his actions, devastated that you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was entertaining you. However, the moment was short lived as another man interrupted your conversation.

“Miss Y/N, I must say you are looking exquisite this evening. It would be a shame for your dress not to take a twirl on the dance floor. Might I accompany you?”

You tried not to groan when you noticed a line forming behind the man currently asking for a dance.

“Actually, Lord Beverly, I’m feeling a bit warm. I was just about to go outside for some fresh air.”

“I shall accompany you, then.”

“Without a chaperone? Goodness, no, please find another young lady to dance with. There are certainly many that would be delighted at the chance.”

You looked around Lord Beverly to see at least four other men waiting for their chance to ask you for a dance, and the thought of making up more excuses made your head spin. You graciously bid Lord Beverly a good evening, and turned on your heel towards the nearest exit.

In your haste, you did not notice George following you into the gardens.

“Well, you sure like to let them down easy,” he joked.

“George!” you cried. “We can’t be seen alone, are you daft? Trying to ruin me and my family?”

“Calm yourself, my Mother is just right there.”

You looked a bit to George’s left and saw his wonderful mother keeping a careful eye on the two of you, graciously leaving the attention of her husband to ensure that none would suspect foolery between you and George.

“As I was saying, it’s awfully obvious that you do not want any man to court you. Your mother will realize well and soon enough of your…aversion to marriage.”

“The only reason you know that is because you eavesdropped on a conversation I had with Eloise. But yes, I have no desire to marry, and I’m quite certain I never will. I’ll have to fight off suitors and think of a million excuses until I’m considered a spinster and men no longer want me.”

Silence enveloped you both as a tear slid down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, hoping that George hadn’t seen, but of course, you were not so lucky.

“Is the idea of marriage really that upsetting to you, Y/N?”

“All those men, all they want is a woman to wear on their arm and to give them children. That’s what a woman’s life is in marriage. A husband doesn’t care about his wife’s passions, desires, intellect, among other things, and I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of a life that has no room for my happiness.”

George was quiet; pondering your response and your feelings, when he was suddenly struck with the most brilliant of ideas.

You see, Mr. George Weasley was in love with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, has been for several years in fact. He couldn’t tell you exactly when or why, but he knew that the fluttering in his chest and the way his whole world became brighter when she entered a room meant that Y/N was more than just someone to engage in friendly banter with.

“I’ve thought of an idea,” George muttered, piquing your interest.

“Whatever might it be, Mr. Weasley?”

“Your…situation, can only go away if men were to believe you were taken, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose, only I can’t fool them into thinking that. It would become quite suspicious when I’m seen alone everywhere. And, there’s no way I could ever fool my parents.”

“Except you wouldn’t be alone, you’d have me!”

“I don’t believe I’m following your idea, George.”

“Marry me.”

You choked and sputtered on your own spit, unable to take a breath through your coughs and gasps. George’s hands flew to your shoulders to steady you, helping you to breathe easier and calm yourself down.

“George, you must be joking,” you said quietly.

“I am as deadly serious as I could ever be. Not a real marriage, of course. Real in every sense of the word in terms of legality, but not real as in, well, us together. I’ll spend this social season courting you, and at the end of the season I’ll propose. We’ll get married in a few months’ time, and then we can travel the world, doing whatever our hearts desire.”

“Why on earth would you want to marry me?”

“It’s quite simple. You need to get the eligible bachelors of the ton to leave you alone and you never want to marry because your husband would restrict your freedoms. I, as your husband, wouldn’t dare. You’re not entirely awful, I suppose there are far worse people to spend my life with, even if you utterly despise me, and marriage, real marriage, isn’t something I want either.”

You looked at him quizzically, searching for signs that he’d had far too much champagne or had gone completely mad in the head, but he looked right as rain, and your mind was spinning.

“I find it hard to believe you do not want to marry, after all the times you’ve said you cannot wait to marry the woman you love.”

“Honestly, the woman I love is….unattainable, I’ll put it that way. I won’t ever love anyone but her. I’m also waiting for an answer, it’s not every day you have to have a discussion after a proposal.”

“You’re sure this will work, Mr. Weasley?”

“How hard can it be to pretend to be in love with a woman as beautiful as you?”

“I always knew you were a flirt, but God, do you lay it on thick.”

George looked at you expectantly, almost a glimmer of hope is his eye, but as quickly as you thought you’d noticed it, he looked away.

“My answer is yes, George. Let’s fool the ton, our families, court, get married, and then travel the world platonically.”

“That sounds like the perfect arrangement, darling.”

@theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @woakiees @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdric

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! 

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist 

Case 01475: Padmé Amidala

"Kix!" General Skywalker called urgently as he burst through the medbay doors.

"General!" Kix replied, snapping to attention for a panicked moment before rushing to respond. "What's wrong?"

"Padmé - Senator Amidala - is feeling a bit off after that last mission," he explained as the senator in question stepped through the doors behind him. She looked amused by his antics. Kix couldn't relate. "Could you do a scan and see if everything is all right?"

Kix sighed, fighting the urge to glare at his general. "Of course I can, sir. After a rescue like that one, it's standard procedure to perform a full series of scans on every returning being." He fixed General Skywalker with a firm look. "You could use a check-up as well, sir. You're looking a little worse for wear."

As expected, the suggestion of more than ten seconds spent in the medbay seemed to trigger Skywalker's fight-or-flight reflexes.

"Of course, Kix," he said with a false grin. "Just check the senator first and I'll be back for you to check me."

"Yes, sir," Kix agreed, knowing full well that neither of them expected Skywalker to return that day.

"Perfect! I need to report to the bridge," he explained, backing away slightly. He did stop to take the senator's hands. "Would you rather I stay? I'm sure Obi-Wan would understand if I delay my report for a few minutes."

"I'll be fine, Anakin," Padmé refused graciously. "You should report to the Council before they think you were captured saving me."

"They know me better than that," Skywalker returned. He was facing the opposite direction and Kix could still hear the grin in his voice.

"Thank you for another rescue, Master Jedi," Padmé said, drawing her hands from Skywalker's so she could grasp her ripped skirt and bob gratefully.

"Always a pleasure, Madam Senator," Skywalker replied. "Call me if you need anything."

And he was gone. Kix couldn't help raising an eyebrow at Senator Amidala, who smiled at him in return. "I always find the finest hospitality on the Resolute."

"We aim to please," he told her dryly. "Are you ready for me to start the scan now, Senator Amidala?"

"Of course, Kix," the senator agreed, "as long as you agree to call me Padmé. We're both busy people and no one has time for a title like that."

All of the flash-training Kix had gone through on Kamino told him to refuse, but the look in Senator Amidala's eyes warned that she wouldn't let this go. Besides, disagreeing with her request could cause her distress, and he wanted to avoid that until he had completed his scan.

"What are your symptoms, Padmé?" Kix asked, retrieving the scanner from its spot in the locked medical cabinet. Too many troopers had tried to 'accidentally' dismantle Kix's dreaded scanner in the past, and it now had to be kept somewhere safe.

"Well, I got a little dizzy and my heartbeat was erratic," she answered readily.

"Were you doing anything strenuous?"

"I was fighting a Separatist battalion," she admitted with a smile. "But that's hardly something I would consider strenuous."

From anyone else on the Resolute, Kix would have considered that an abominable attempt at bragging, but the adventurous senator did seem to find herself in combat situations oddly often and always handled herself well.

"Anything else?"

She frowned. "Yes, actually. I've found myself getting nauseated at odd times lately. Do you think I could be ill?"

"I can't rule anything out," Kix hedged, hefting the scanner, "but this can. Hold still, please."

Less than a minute later, the scanner let out a soft beep and Kix studied the screen with a frown. "I'm seeing that your blood sugar is low, as is your blood pressure. Those would both explain the dizziness and low heartbeat, perhaps even the nausea. When was the last time you ate a full meal?"

Padmé considered that for a moment. "Last night. I was feeling nauseated, but I ate a small meal and went to bed."

"That could explain your blood sugar, then," Kix told her. "How do you feel about honeyfruit juice? I'd like to have you eat something to raise your blood sugar before we try another scan."

"I love honeyfruit, actually," Padmé replied, willingly sipping at the small cup of juice Kix handed her.

The two chatted pleasantly for a while as Padmé's body absorbed the juice. Kix had been following the senator's career with interest ever since she had helped with the Dogma situation, and Padmé had questions about the veracity of some of General Skywalker's wilder stories.

Finally, Kix's wrist chrono beeped and he smiled. "Time's up, Padmé. Your blood sugar should have increased by now, so we'll try another scan."

"Whatever you think is best, Kix," Padmé told him, sending peace surging through his soul. However, the feeling dissipated as the senator pressed a hand to her suddenly pale lips. "I may need to excuse myself for a moment."

No sooner had she finished speaking than Padmé was running to the refresher attached to the medbay. She pulled the refresher door closed behind her, but it was the medbay-specific design, meant to give the user privacy while allowing a medic to hear if someone needed help inside. As such, the door didn't offer much in the way of sound-blocking, and Kix grimaced sympathetically at the sound of Padmé losing what little was in her stomach.

Kix hated vomit. He could deal with every other thing that came out of a body, even the things that were supposed to stay inside, but vomit was always something he strove to avoid. It was something Kix had always thought of a personal failing. Medics should be able to deal with anything patients could subject them to, and he had worked hard to get past his weakness.

Steeling himself, Kix walked to the refresher and tapped his knuckles lightly against the door. "Padmé? Do you need anything from me?"

"I'm so sorry, Kix," Padmé's weak voice called between coughs. "I'll be fine, I promise."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he asked, using the nicest voice he had. "Can I come in?"

There was the sound of a flush - the muted type common to low-water 'freshers on Venator-Class Star Destroyers - followed by a soft, "Yes."

Kix pushed the door open and found Padmé seated on the floor. Her arm was braced against the wall to provide a rest for her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Kix," she said again.

"There's nothing to apologize for, Padmé," he told her firmly. "Let's just try to figure out why this is happening. Do you feel up to moving back to the main bay? It might be best if you lay down for a few minutes."

Her pale lips quirked up into a wan smile. "Ani warned me that laying in a bed here is like signing up for an extended stay."

"I won't make you stay unless I feel it's a medical necessity, medic's honor," Kix vowed. Padmé met his gaze, studied it for a moment, and gave a slow nod.

He helped Padmé to her feet and slowly helped her over to one of the beds. "I'm just going to get the scanner. I'll be right back."

When Kix returned with the scanner in hand, he dialed it up slightly. Maybe she had been exposed to some kind of virus that was making her ill… He was limited by his supplies, but Kix could treat a number of symptoms with the contents of the medbay if he only knew what he was looking for.

"Hold still," he instructed again.

Padmé actually chuckled at that, assuring him, "Not a problem."

With the increased scanner levels, the results were a bit more conclusive this time around. "Your blood sugar has improved a good bit. Your blood pressure is a little better, too, though that could be a side effect of vomiting."

With a face rapidly growing several shades paler, Padmé waved him on. "Could we talk about anything other than vomiting, please?"

"Gladly," Kix agreed, returning his attention to the scanner's small screen. "According to the readout, you are experiencing increased levels of… progesterone…"

"I'm not familiar with that," Padmé said, frowning a bit. "Is it dangerous?"

"No, but it- You might… Usually… Hold on one moment," Kix requested. While Padmé waited patiently, he cranked the scanner's power to full. Saying a quick 'thank you' to the science that had made scanners completely safe for all life forms, he scanned her one last time, centering the movement on her torso.

When the beep came, Kix looked at the screen quickly, heartbeat thundering in his ears. The results confirmed his theory and he couldn't fight a smile as he met Padmé's curious eyes. "Padmé, you're pregnant."

"What?"

Clearly, she had not been expecting that particular answer, but Kix refused to see this as anything but good news. He had never been around a pregnant woman, but he found it difficult to comprehend that the being in front of him was in the process of creating new life. A brand-new person.

"The pregnancy isn't very far along, which is why the scanner had trouble picking it up, but it's there. You're going to have a baby."

Kix had always heard that pregnant women 'glowed'. Well, whoever said that must have had Padmé in mind. When she finally reacted, it was with a slow smile spreading across her face, lighting up every inch of her being.

"A baby," she mused softly, one graceful hand rising to hover protectively over her flat belly. "We're having a baby."

"You and the general?" Kix asked.

The very next moment, he could have cheerfully disemboweled himself. Padmé stared up at him, clearly shocked, and he grimaced. "Padmé… Senator. I am so sorry. I didn't- I shouldn't have- I'm so sorry."

"Please, Kix," she said after a long moment of collecting herself. "Don't apologize. It's nice to have someone know. I just ask that you keep it to yourself."

"Er- The general isn't exactly what I would call subtle-"

"He really isn't," she agreed conspiratorially. "But still. He could lose his status as a Jedi, my reputation as a senator would be damaged, and I would lose ground on every pro-Jedi or pro-clone bill I have on the floor. It would be disastrous."

"You have my word, Padmé," Kix promised. "I won't say a word to anyone. Medic's honor."

"Even Anakin?"

"Well, the general is- he's my general. My commanding officer," Kix explained poorly. "If he asked, I don't think I could lie to him. Especially if he made it an order."

"I'm going to tell him," Padmé assured. "Just not immediately. If he asks anything, he'll ask if I'm okay. Medically, you can tell him I'm fine, right? After all, I'm healthy for a pregnant woman if I understand everything correctly."

"Yes, human pregnancy often comes with low blood pressure and sugar, as well as nausea, dizziness, and fatigue," Kix answered automatically. He sighed then, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows. "I won't give the details to anyone, even if the general asks. Privacy laws."

"You know, I could probably have Anakin make it an order," Padmé mused, then smiled softly at him. "I won't do that, though. I trust you. We both do."

It was the highest compliment Kix had ever received.

---

A/N - Technically speaking, this is the last chapter of Nobody Listens to Kix. I will be posting some outtakes and extras over the next few weeks, but the official series ends here. Thank you to everyone who has read this work and especially those who have liked and reblogged it! I appreciate you all!

[issaxcharlie]

You are the music in me

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Julie Molina

Request: SICK FIC JUKE: “Juke live together (but not dating yet) with Alex and Reggie all in apartment, both Julie and Luke wake up sick as dogs (flu/strep up to you) and force stay home from classes,sick by Alex. While being alone basically all day they finally admitted they like each other more than friends and get together when they start feeling better few days later.”

THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST ANON🤍

This is not how Julie and Luke saw each other spending the weekend. They took care of Alex for a whole week together and just when the drummer began to feel better, his friends fell to the flu. To stop the chain of illness, Julie decided that it was best for Reggie and Alex to stay in Willie's instead of the apartment the four friends share until she and Luke recovered, but two stubborn patients taking care of each other is a somewhat chaotic combination.

"I can't take those pills, they are huge!" The guitarist has his arms crossed, his lips completely closed in a grimace almost impossible to undo.

"Luke, I've seen you eat two meatball sandwiches at the same time, I’m pretty sure one pill is not going to kill you."

He was about to continue fighting when Julie turns to cough. Every minute that passes she looks weaker and probably what she needs the least is to be carrying with his tantrums. So he takes the pills from her and passes them after maybe 15 tries and 3 possible chokes. Julie laughs slightly with each attempt, satisfied that at least he is trying for her.

Once they both finally finish taking all of their meds, Luke uses what little strength he has left to carry her in bridal style to her room. Julie tries to resist but her lack of strenght is way too much.

"Let yourself be taken care of, Molina." He whispers in her ear as he draws her closer to him. When they finally get to the room Luke gently lays her down on the bed and covers her in blankets to the best of his ability.

He feels bad for her. Because yes, he was there during Alex's illness, but the truth is that he didn't do much. The only reason he got sick is because he shares a room with him. On the other hand, Julie was faithfully taking care of her friend, taking his temperature, reminding him at the correct time about his medicines to the point of setting alarms at 4 in the morning just to make sure he got up to take them, made him hot meals and tea, she was the perfect nurse.

And what does she have instead? Him. The one who hates taking pills, doesn’t know how to take the temperature, much less what time the medicines are due, and he definitely doesn't know how to cook much more than a sandwich.

But something the aspiring musician does know how to do and sure as hell will do for her is giving her all the cuddles she might need (and probably want).

Luke walks to the other side of the bed and sits on the empty side, bringing burrito Julie into his arms, her resting her head on his chest.

He takes a few seconds to enjoy the situation. Yes, it is not at all what they expected to do today, on Saturdays they usually write all morning and rehearse all afternoon to go to some small club to play at night. The band was completely their priority on weekends as they had to study and work to support themselves, so the guitarist couldn't remember a Saturday where they stayed like this, doing nothing but enjoying each other.

Luke had become so immersed in that routine that he had simply sunk to the bottom those feelings that usually shine bright as the sun when they write or sing together or in rare moments like this one when he has her all for him, their hearts beating as one.

Realizing that he liked Julie was as easy as discovering his passion for music. When is her, everyday situations like hearing her rave happily about something that happened during the day feels like listening to his favorite song at full volume. And there’s the other side of it, those special moments like performing on a stage together. The sensations he gets are on a league of their own, their chemistry growing and enveloping in this mesmerizing explosion of energy. She’s this beautiful bright star that for some strange miracle, he is blessed to admire closely without burning.

The love and admiration he feels for her is so big that it terrifies him. In his experience, these types of sensations are not free. His passion for music completely cost him the relationship with his parents, not even the effort of continuing in school has made them give his dream of being a musician a chance.

What will it cost him to chase Julie in a romantic way? Their friendship? The band? What if things don't turn out as he would like and they end up fighting and separating the one thing that has cost them so much to build? Sleepless nights, hunger, blood, sweat, raising this dream has not been easy, could he really dare to risk it in this way? Could he be so selfish?

He often forces himself to think he couldn’t, but at that moment, Julie Molina swings her body to the side so she can look at him head on. Her big, beautiful dark eyes fixed on his.

“You aren’t usually quiet for more than 5 minutes, are you alright? Does something hurt? Do you want me to check your temperature?" With some effort, she manages to free the arm that is not resting on the bed and gently touches Luke's forehead, making sure he is okay.

He can't help but grin in response. She’s just so perfect. She shares the same passion as him, she fully understands the magical feeling of being on stage and it provokes on her the same excitement and adrenaline. She is sweet and cares about everyone, even loves his friends as much as he does. She is determined, smart, funny, beautiful. A lot of times he can't even understand how someone so perfect exists. And she not only exists, but is there next to him, wrapped in his arms.

“I- I’m fine, everything is fine, I promise. Focus on resting that angelic voice of yours.” She blushes as if that is not an already well established fact. He can’t help but look adoringly in response. He just loves to make her blush, being able to cause those reactions in her so easily.

You're right, I can't risk being replaced by one of the many groupies that have been after you lately." He can’t help a cocky grin, she blushes even more and decides to sink her head into his chest.

He takes advantage and hugs her even closer to him, bringing his head closer to her face to whisper in her ear.

"I could never replace you." He feels her expression changing in his chest, probably a smile. Her small hand squeezing his back in response.

“Liar.”

“Are you jealous, Molina? Because that’s hot.” She lets out a nervous laugh and Luke pulls her away just enough to be face to face.

“I’m not jealous.” She murmurs trying to sound sure, the image of those girls way too close to Luke at last weekend’s gig clouding her vision.

“Good, because you don’t have a reason to be.”

The singer looks down, she understood the opposite of what the guitarist was trying to say.

“H- Hey, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” With one of his fingers he carefully lifts her chin so he can see her eyes again.

There's a part of Luke that tells him to take a moment to think about what to say. The logical and sinic part. The one who knows that what he is going to do is going to cost him.

But the other party, the one who has been in love with Julie Molina for 2 years, is already tired of waiting and ready to take a leap of faith. And today that his mind is tired and weak, heart conquers logic.

Neither has spoken aloud about their special relationship, but they know something is there. It is a wordless fact between the two. And maybe it's time to add words to the melody.

“I meant you really don’t have to because all I hear, is you. I have tried to find peace in my soul with hundreds and hundreds of melodies, Julie. And it wasn't until I heard your voice that I found the right one.

Why would I even want to think of anyone else when I have so much more than I could have imagined across the hall every day? It’s always you. You, making sure I eat when I’m in my obsessive writer mode. You, stroking my hair when you think I fell asleep. You, spying me with your beautiful eyes between classes to make sure I’m actually on school. You, watching musicals with me till 5 am on Saturdays even thought we had one hell of a difficult day and a tired night just because you love to see my reactions. You, worried about me feeling bad when you are clearly sicker. It’s always you, Julie.”

In a moment of bravery, Julie brushes her lips against Luke's, waiting for him to make the final decision, which he doesn't take two seconds to make by capturing her lips on his, savoring finally being able to know what it feels like to kiss Julie Molina.

That it tasted like honey was not something that surprised him after seeing her eat several tablespoons of honey with lemon before bringing her to rest.

“Luke, remember when we watched High School Musical 2?” She grins, clearly happy with what just happened.

“Yeah, like a month ago.” he seems surprised with the random question but smiles to encourage her.

“Well, I mentally dedicated you ‘you are the music in me.’ Huh, It feels good to get it off my chest.”

He laughs. Anyone else would be offended or at least scared that the other person won't talk about what just happened, but they have a different connection. Music is the one who unites their souls and for she to tell him something as powerful as ‘you are the music in me’ is almost as strong as an I love you, maybe even stronger. Practically her subtle, awkward and wholesome way of saying he’s her person too.

And that’s more than perfect for him. She doesn’t need to say a speech, much less now that she is not feeling well. The love she shows him in a thousand ways every day is more than enough.

He knows that when they both improve and logic regains territory they will have a lot to discuss about their new relationship, but the most important step has already been taken. For now, all he has to worry about is that the tea turns out drinkable enough and keeping her warm enough with cuddles and kisses on the forehead... maybe some more on the lips too.

THANK YOU FOR READING✨✨

[reinerispretty]

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt 9

hi everyone! thank u for being so patient with me with this series, i adore u all! 

pt1

pt8

“It seems so spooky here.” Katara wrung out her skirt. “Sokka, you’ve got an elbow leech.” Sokka yelled, ripping the leech off of his elbows. (Y/N) let out a laugh, unable to control the reaction. Sokka glared at her.

“If you ever get a leech, I’m not helping you get it off.”

“I wouldn’t need your help,” (Y/N) teased. “I could get it off myself without being a huge baby.”

(Y/N) felt her whole body tense when she saw the Fire Nation flags flying high over the city of Omashu. As she walked with her friends into the city, her mind raced with thoughts of what had happened the last time she had encountered the Fire Nation. She had lost a lot more than just her bending that day. 

She could hear Sokka’s complaints as they trudged through the sewers but she remained quiet. Her muscles were tight, ready to begin bending at a moment’s notice. When they had surfaced, she heard a voice call, “Hey! What are you kids doing out past curfew?” And she whirled around, ready to draw water out of the pouch on her hip, but Katara grabbed her hand. 

“We were just on our way home,” She told the Fire Nation guards, giving (Y/N’s) hand a reassuring squeeze as she did so. (Y/N) furrowed her brows but remained silent. 

Once they had convinced the guards that Sokka was deathly ill and needed to get home immediately, (Y/N) turned to Katara. “Why didn’t we just fight them? We could’ve taken them out.” 

“Keeping a low profile is really important, especially in places where the Fire Nation is concerned.” (Y/N) frowned. “We can’t draw any unwanted attention to Aang.” 

They camped out in an abandoned barn and spent the next morning and afternoon searching for Bumi. They had yet to find him by the time the sun started setting. (Y/N) felt herself growing increasingly frustrated with Aang. He was adamant about finding his friend, but she grew nervous around each Fire Nation guard that she saw. 

“I don’t like being here,” She mumbled to Katara. Katara looked at her nervously. Sometimes, Katara felt that (Y/N) was a ticking time bomb. She was fairly unpredictable. The last thing that anyone wanted was to draw attention to themselves, but (Y/N) was a risk. She had heard of what she had done back in the Northern Water Tribe when she had frozen Hahn in a ball of ice. If she did that to one of the guards...

Katara gave her a reassuring smile. “I understand,” she said, because she did. When Katara had first encountered the Fire Nation outside of her home, she was on edge as well. “But we have to keep low. It’s the best thing to do to keep us safe.” 

(Y/N) gave her a worried look, but conceded, and Katara felt herself let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. (Y/N’s) unpredictability had only increased since the passing of her sister. Katara worried sometimes, for her friend’s wellbeing, but she remained silent and watched. If needed, she would be prepared to intervene. 

They had crossed paths with a woman and a teenage girl walking with a young child. The group watched as a ball of earth went soaring toward them and Aang quickly disintegrated it to dust. The teenage girl, excited by the new movement in her daily life, chased after the group. 

Sharp, pointed darts soared past (Y/N) and her friends as they ran away. She tried her best to deflect them, but her waterbending skills still paled in comparison to Aang and Katara’s. She turned away from the girl with a frown and led her friends down a narrow alley with a dead end. She heard them all inhale a deep breath of surprise before the ground swallowed them whole. 

They encountered Earth Kingdom insurgents who had told them their plan of retaking the city. But their time in Omashu was met with less upheaval than (Y/N) had expected. They evacuated all of the insurgents by pretending the group had pentapox, the fake disease that they had invented for Sokka. Then, they encountered the Fire Nation Princess and her friends, the teenage girl from earlier and another girl who could block their chi, essentially inhibiting their waterbending. (Y/N) had let out a yell as her waterbending had been stolen from her for the time being. She had collapsed to the ground, unable to move her arms, and watched as Sokka ran toward the girl with his boomerang. She tried her best to limit his mobility as well, but he was too fast. He grabbed (Y/N) into his arms and ran away with her. 

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) had said. “My legs work perfectly, let me down!” But Sokka hadn’t listened to her. He ran back toward Appa, where Aang and Katara were waiting for them. “Sokka, let me go!” 

“You’re welcome for saving you,” Sokka grumbled as she was lifted onto Appa’s saddle. She frowned unhappily. 

“I would’ve been alright. It’s only a matter of time until I get my bending back and then--” 

“And then what, (Y/N)?” Sokka snapped. “You’d be captured by the Fire Nation. No, thank you.” Her frowned deepened and she turned away from Sokka before she said something she really regretted. She could feel the bending coming back to her arms slowly. She resolved that the next time they would stop for water, she would splash him for good measure. 

The next time they stopped was not for a few days’ time. Aang started leading Appa downward, to a swamp that they passed over. “Aang?” Sokka asked. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“I think the swamp is calling me,” Aang said, his voice unsure. 

“Is it calling you to some food?” Sokka grumbled. 

“I don’t know about that swamp,” (Y/N) said. “It looks...scary?” 

“We’ll only stop for a moment,” Aang reassured them, casting a smile at (Y/N). She smiled back, but she was still unsure. Sokka shook his head. 

“We should keep going.” With a sigh, Aang agreed. They flew past the swamp, resolving to find another place to stop, but a tornado formed, dragging them down into its depths. (Y/N) was flung from the saddle, landing in the damp water that surrounded the plants. As she blinked her eyes open, she noticed the dark shade that encompassed the land of the swamp. The trees cascaded over them, blocking almost any sunshine that could enter. 

“This place gives me the creeps,” (Y/N) said as she stood, crossing her arms over her chest. Katara nodded. 

“It seems so spooky here.” Katara wrung out her skirt. “Sokka, you’ve got an elbow leech.” Sokka yelled, ripping the leech off of his elbows. (Y/N) let out a laugh, unable to control the reaction. Sokka glared at her. 

“If you ever get a leech, I’m not helping you get it off.” 

“I wouldn’t need your help,” (Y/N) teased. “I could get it off myself without being a huge baby.” 

“Oh please, you’d scream just like any of us.” 

“You don’t know that.” (Y/N) and Sokka both rolled their eyes at the same time. 

“I can’t find Appa or Momo,” Aang said gravely. All three of his companions gulped. Their only way out of the swamp was now currently missing. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be a normal day with out something unfortunate happening to us,” (Y/N) sighed. “They have to be somewhere around here.” 

“Guess we better start searching,” Sokka said, using his machete to whack through the clumps of vines that blocked their path. Nervously, Aang, Katara, and (Y/N) followed him. 

As Sokka hacked through the vines, Aang said, “Maybe we should be a little bit nicer to the swamp.” 

“Aang, these are just plants. Do you want me to say "please" and "thank you" as I swing my machete back and forth?“ 

“Maybe you should listen to Aang,” Katara said. “Something about this place feels ... alive.” 

“I can feel it too,” (Y/N) agreed. “And it doesn’t feel very happy.” 

“I'm sure there are lots of things that are alive here and if we don't wanna wind up getting eaten by them, we need to find Appa as fast as we can.” To punctuate his statement, Sokka sliced through another thick set of vines. 

They searched for hours until the sun began to set, so they agreed to stop and camp for the night. (Y/N) felt increasingly uneasy as she sat by the fire that they had built. Each moment they were there, it felt like more and more eyes were watching her. Every little sound made her whip her head to see its source. 

She tried her hardest not to fall asleep but eventually her own exhaustion got the better of her. The four of them had fallen asleep huddled together. (Y/N) lay between Aang and Katara, snoring softly as she experienced a dreamless sleep. She woke to the feeling of something crawling up her leg. Sleepily, she opened her eyes to see the blurry outline of a vine wrapping itself around her legs. (Y/N) blinked her eyes to get a clearer image, but just before she could warn her friends, they were all pulled apart from each other. 

A scream ripped from her throat as she felt herself and her friends be pulled deeper into the swamp mist. Twigs and branches scratched at her skin as she was dragged. The swamp became darker the deeper she traveled. (Y/N) knew she had to act fast or else she might not find her friends again. Freeing one hand from the vines, she formed a water whip to slice through the vine. It dropped her to the ground, the vines that were wrapped around her body falling limply to her side. (Y/N) scrambled to her feet and started running back to where she had come. 

The vines licked at her ankles as they chased her but (Y/N) would cut them as soon as they caught up to her. She ran for what felt like hours until eventually the vines receded back into the swamp. She sat herself on a rock to catch her breath. “Aang!” She called out. “Sokka? Katara!” She started walking again. She tried to make mental notes of what areas she had passed through before, but it was no use. It was like the swamp was changing each time she walked through. She would think that she recognized a stump, but then see some completely new formation of earth beside it. 

(Y/N) felt herself growing increasingly frustrated as she walked through the forest. Being without her friends in an unknown area made her feel anxious. But then, just through the thick of the trees, (Y/N) saw a bright light. Thinking it might be Aang in his Avatar State, she raced towards it, shouting his name. When she arrived in the clearing, she did not find Aang, but instead found a glowing, familiar spirit. 

“Yue?” (Y/N’s) voice was only a whisper, but the spirit turned around nonetheless. Yue hovered above the ground in her glowing moon-like state. (Y/N) felt her hands shaking at her sides. The spirit hovered closer to her, until their faces were just inches apart. 

“You let me die,” Yue said, her face harsh and accusatory. (Y/N’s) eyes widened in surprise. They welled with tears and (Y/N) shut them tight to prevent them from falling. When she opened her eyes, Yue was gone. 

(Y/N) wanted to get as far away from that area as possible, so she darted back the way she had come. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her. She almost didn’t realize that someone was standing in front of her until she collided with them. The force knocked them both to the ground. 

“Ow!” Shouted Sokka, rubbing his head. “That’s the third time you’ve run into me, you know.” 

“Sokka!” (Y/N) breathed. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” Sokka helped her to her feet. “We need to get out of this swamp as soon as possible. I hate it here.” 

“Yeah, no kidding. You won’t believe who I saw.” Before (Y/N) could press him further, Aang and Katara came rolling down the hill, knocking Sokka and (Y/N) to the ground once again. 

“What do you guys think you're doing?” Sokka exclaimed as he stood. “I've been looking all over for you!”

“Well, I've been wandering around looking for you,” Katara said as she rubbed her head. 

“I was chasing some girl,” Aang said. 

“What girl?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I don't know. I heard laughing and I saw some girl in a fancy dress.” 

“Well, there must be a tea party here and we just didn't get our invitations!“ Sokka said sarcastically. 

“I thought I saw Mom,” Katara said quietly. 

“Look, we were all just scared and hungry and our minds were playing tricks on us. That's why we all saw things out here.” Sokka put his machete back in its holster. 

“You saw something too?” Katara asked. Sokka sighed. 

“I thought I saw Yue. But, that doesn't prove anything. Look, I think about her all the time, and you saw Mom, someone you miss a lot.” 

(Y/N) remained silent, eyeing Sokka up and down. He wouldn’t look at her. She knew it was ridiculous, but she felt anger bubbling up inside of her.

“What about me?” Aang asked. “I didn't know the girl I saw. And all our visions led us right here.” 

“So where’s here? The middle of the swamp?” (Y/N) raised her head to look at the treetops. Light still barely filtered in. 

“Yeah, the center ... it's the heart of the swamp. It's been calling us here. I knew it.” Aang placed his palm on the large tree behind them. 

“It's just a tree. It can't call anyone. For the last time, there's nothing after us and there's nothing magical happening here,” Sokka grumbled. Just as he finished his sentence, a monster made out of seaweed emerged from the swamp. Their group screamed in surprise but quickly readied themselves for a fight. 

Sokka was grabbed by the monster’s vines, being flung to and fro. (Y/N) raised water into the air and froze it, sending the freezing ice shards into its arm. It cut through the vines but they healed back together. 

As they fought, Sokka was absorbed into the seaweed monster’s body. Katara used her waterbending to free him and as Sokka landed on the ground, he sprung back to his feet. “There’s someone in there bending the vines!” Aang used his airbending to cut down the middle of the monster, revealing a man in nothing but a leaf loincloth. 

“Why did you call me here if you just wanted to kill us?” Aang demanded. The man stopped his waterbending. 

“I didn’t call you here.” 

After learning the man, whose name was Huu, was only attacking them because he was a protector of the swamp, the group was able to engage in a completely normal conversation with him. They learned that the swamp was indeed a mystical place, that showed them people they had lost or loved, or both. Time didn’t necessarily count in the swamp, so the girl that Aang had seen would be someone he would meet. 

After eating dinner with the swamp waterbenders and finding Appa and Momo, the group hopped on Appa’s back and flew off into the night. (Y/N) sat toward the back of Appa’s saddle, watching as the swamp disappeared into the horizon. For the first time in weeks, she looked up at the full moon that shined brightly down on her. 

Although it was just an illusion, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel uneasy at what her the apparition of Yue had said. She had let her die. This was a statement that (Y/N) had wrestled with ever since her sister had given her life for the wellbeing of the world. If she had tried harder to convince Yue to stay, perhaps she could have found another way to bring back the Moon Spirit. Instead, all she did was watch and cry as her sister died. 

She was so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed Sokka scooch to sit beside her. She jumped when he cleared his throat. “You saw someone in the swamp too, didn’t you?” 

(Y/N) didn’t look at him. She chewed on her bottom lip, a habit she had developed when she was anxious. “I saw Yue, too.” 

“That makes sense,” Sokka said. “Since it was someone you cared about.” 

“I didn’t just care about her,” (Y/N) snapped. “She is my sister. The exact same blood runs through our veins.” (Y/N) swallowed. “Ran through our veins.” 

“I know what you’re feeling-” 

“You really don’t, Sokka. You knew Yue for a few days. She was the only person I trusted during my entire life.” 

Sokka’s face fell, saddened by what (Y/N) had said. She knew she had struck a nerve, but she didn’t care. She didn’t find it very fair that Sokka had a piece of her sister as well. Yue was kind and loving and an exceptional person, but she was (Y/N’s). And (Y/N) didn’t like that she had to share her memory now with a boy that barely knew her. 

Sokka crawled away from (Y/N) and sat back down at Katara’s side. Katara gave him a sad smile and whispered, “She just needs time.” 

Sokka did not reply. 

---

Tag List!

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[ikeromantic]

Horns

Day 24 of Ikemektober!

I chose Shakespeare - I’ve no idea what happens in his route. This is entirely my brain (caffeinated), the prompt, and deciding The Bard had to get his own story. It’s spicy fluff. Approx 1800 words.

Will picked up the costumes for his next production - a new play, inspired by his patron. They were fanciful pieces, with bat wings and goat horns and hooves. There was even a serpent-skin coat in the lot. Perfect for the story of a devilish king and his court of impish jesters. 

The play was equal parts suffering and passion. He hoped Comte would come to see it, or that rumors of it would reach his ears at least. Taunting the old vampire was a dangerous sport, but for William, that only made it a more alluring pursuit.

If he had eternity, or close to it, to make his plays, there was no subject that was taboo. He would push his art to its limit - and his life with it, as his plays were so enmeshed with experience that sometimes he had trouble separating one from the other.

“Will? Will, is that you?” The voice caught him mid-thought. His arms were so full of costumerie that he couldn’t see who was speaking, but he knew anyhow. 

“What fair maid calls mine name so sweetly? Could it be my newest friend?”

She laughed in reply, a bright sound. Unburdened. “I don’t know why you always speak in poetry, Will.” 

He felt her hand touch his arm, the lightest brush of her fingertips like a touch of fire. “Do you need help carrying those in?”

“Fear not, I’ve strength enough to finish - but if you could - the door?” Shakespeare heard her open the door to his home. He walked in and set the costumes on the nearest table. 

The girl followed him in, her eyes darting about in curious fashion - as if she wanted to see everything before he stopped her looking. 

Will smiled. It was strange to see her here, alone. He wondered if the Comte’s imps knew she’d come. He somehow doubted it. “To what do I owe this unforeseen pleasure? I hope tis nothing untoward.”

“Oh, no. I was just going to market to pick up a few things and I saw you getting out of the carriage.” She shrugged, the gesture gentle and indefinable feminine. “I thought maybe you’d like to have a coffee with me - or a tea. We didn’t get to talk much last time I saw you.”

“No, indeed we did not. You are always most welcome here, whither you’ve only passed by or come to visit with intent.” He motioned to his parlor. “Please, go in and sit down. I’ll put on some tea.”

Her bright smile returned. “Good! I was hoping you weren’t busy right now, but when I saw you with all those - clothes?” She glanced at the pile with wide eyes, “I thought maybe you were in the middle of something.”

“I am never to busy to see you, fair one.” He found his own mouth curling upward with genteel pleasure. The sensation made him vaguely uneasy, as if this was dangerous ground he tread. She always did this - setting him on edge with her cheery disposition. He wondered if something dark lay beneath it, something that, with prying, he could uncover. If so, it lay deep.

Will left to put on a pot of tea. When he came back, she was still in the entry hall, picking at the pile of costumes. 

“What are you doing?”

She jumped back, dropping her hands to her sides. “I - sorry! They just looked so interesting. I wanted to see if I could figure out the play from the clothing.” Her hands grasped her skirt, a nervous gesture. 

Shakespeare closed the distance between them in a few quick steps. He knew how unnerving his heterochromatic gaze was, especially on silly little girls. “And? Did you find me out?”

“M-midsummer Night’s Dream?” She guessed, voice full of hope. 

“No.” Will leaned down until his nose almost touched hers. “I am afraid you’ve now been rude on two accounts. Searching through what belongs to another, and assuming a dramatist is bound by their older work.” The irritation he felt around her lent heat to his words, a sharpness despite his soft voice. 

She looked down. “I’m so sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She sounded almost at the edge of tears, far more upset at his reprimand than he expected. 

Will drew a line with his finger at the edge of her jaw and tipped her face up to his. “I shall forgive you this once, if you consent to a single favor. What say you, fair maid?”

“A favor?” She was trembling, her pulse racing. Excitement or fear? Will wasn’t certain.

“Indeed. I’ve need to check each costume you’ve handily sorted through in that pile. I can try on the gents’ clothing but the ladies’ outfits I must use a mannequin for. Today, you will be my mannequin.”

Her face brightened, though he could still feel her galloping heartbeat. “I could - could do that. It sounds exciting!” She bit her bottom lip, suddenly thoughtful. “Would you tell me what the play is about?”

“Perchance, if I am pleased.” Shakespeare stepped away from her, relieved and disappointed by the distance between them.

She immediately headed back to the pile of costumes, picking at them until she’d found a woman’s costume. “What is this one supposed to be?” She held up the oddly cut dress. It was all long, straight lines and harsh edges. Dark colors.

“It is clothing from the future.” He couldn’t help the wicked smile that lit up his thin face. 

“Oh! Neat!” Her innocent enthusiasm missed the point entirely. She took a step toward the parlor, uncertain where she should go to change.

“Yes, you may undress in safety there. I shall refrain from opening the door.”

The tea kettle summoned him with its high pitched whistle. He went to pour the tea, and brought back a tray to set out for them both once the costume-modeling was done.

For himself, he chose the horned outfit. It was Faustian, at a glance. The jacket was black-furred, and the boot cover was made of hoof. The horns themselves were from a goat, but polished to obsidian black. The knobby twists seemed to capture the afternoon sun, reflecting nothing back. 

Shakespeare stepped into this study to change. It felt odd to slide on the heavy jacket. The pants were a little big on him, but solidly made and adjustable with the addition of a belt or suspenders. He slid the headpiece on last, savoring the weight of the horns.

The mirror showed him what a monster he’d become with just the change in wardrobe. He looked wild now, like a faun or a devil, out to hunt virgins in sacred groves. Will shook his hair loose to further the effect. In this, he was the divine hunter. The gentleman demon. It was funny how a costume could often bring out secrets closely held.

He stepped back into the entry hall. The girl was still shuffling around in the parlor. He could hear her. 

“Are you in need of assistance, fair one?”

“I- uh - the buttons are, they’re kind of hard to reach.” 

“Then rescue you, I shall. For what troubles lie under the sun that cannot be bested by two hearts in concert?” He pushed open the door.

Sunlight came through the curtains, painting the room in sunset hue. The girl was standing straight, trying in vain to hold the gown up with one hand, the other reaching for buttons ill-placed. Her cheeks were stained pink, eyes wide.

“Tis no matter, fair maid. I’ve seen many a pretty half in, and half-out of costume. You’ve no need to fear my eye, nor my helping hands.” Will tried to reassure her, though he found her discomfort amusing. He had, in fact, seen many beautiful actresses in all stages of undress, but none quite like her. 

Her face didn’t have the diamond hardness of the determined beauty. She lacked the edge of feminine weaponry, as if ignorant of her body’s charms. It only made him more away of her bare shoulders, the curve of her breast at the side. The naked line of her back as she turned to present him with the impossible buttons.

“You look amazing,” she babbled. “Like a faun! It’s called a faun, right? But . . . more cultured?” She inhaled sharply as Will brushed a finger down her spine. 

“More of a devil, I’m afraid.” Her shiver provoked in him a need to touch her. He resisted it. He was the writer of passions - a witness. Not a participant. The director did not star in his dramas. He buttoned the dress and stepped away from her.

The girl turned to face him, brushing a hand down the front of the dress to smooth it. The dark blue was perfect for her. And the way it clung to her curves - indecent. Will did not think he’d see a clearer map of her body even if she stood nude before him. Best was the slit up the side of the skirt, as if made for a dancer. Her skin tantalized in glimpses, drawing the eye.

“You’re staring. Is it - is it bad?”

“No.” Shakespeare shook himself. “It is a perfect costume for the victim of a demon.” He gave a wicked sharp smile. “Do you feel like a victim, fair one?”

She started to laugh, but stopped at his forbidding expression. “You kind of scare me sometimes, Will.”

“And fear me you should. For I am a wicked creature.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. She smelled sweet, like perfume. 

“Will,” she gasped, trying to pull away.

“It is too late for you, fair maid. To my lair you came, and now you shall never leave.” He lowered his head to her neck, letting her feel the slightest prick of his fangs.

“Th-this isn’t funny. Let me go,” she whimpered. 

Shakespeare realized his own heart was beating as wildly as hers, his breath as ragged. He pushed her away. “I am - am only acting my part. The horned devil.”

“Then you’re a pretty good actor.” She stared at him, wary. “I think I should probably go.” 

Will reached up, touching the cold, sharp tip of one of the horns. “Yes, perhaps you should. Send the dress - no, better, keep the dress. It fits not the character of my new script, but I think it sits perfectly upon you.”

She blushed. “Ah, alright. If you’re sure.” Though she took a few steps toward the exit, it seemed she would hesitate, now uncertain if he posed a danger to her. 

Shakespeare stepped closer to her, widening his thin, sharp smile. “Unless, fair maid, you’d like to stay and allow me to remove the garment from your skin . . . with my teeth.” 

“Nope! No thank you!” She practically ran away, comical in her haste. 

Will stood there in the sun-drenched parlor, still smelling her light perfume. It felt so much emptier with her gone. And though he’d hoped for peace in her absence, he felt only turmoil. 

“Perhaps I truly am bedeviled,” he mused. The blackened horns atop his head bobbed in silent agreement.

[ownworldresident]

We Are Our Own Heroes. Chapter Two: Bayside

Book: The Royal Romance, seven years post-TRR

Premise: Six years after a tragic loss, Liam and his adopted daughter meet Cassandra, an artist with her own troubled past, and the three find in each other the friend they never knew they needed.

Disclaimer: Setting and some characters belong to Pixelberry. I am just borrowing them and will return them when they feel better.

Themes: found family, (power of) friendship, healing

The Master Masterlist (link) ---  Our Own Heroes Masterlist (link)

Liam

Saturday rolled around again. Nothing could lift the heavy circles under Liam’s eyes or take away his yawns, and the coffee could only do so much. He took solace in the fact that he could crash hard later that day. Emily had a harder time against this team. He kept score in his head, crossing his fingers and sending encouraging smiles whenever she glanced his way. The final whistle blew as they started from the centre of the court. Emily looked around to find her coach, then converged with her teammates. A moment later they cheered at the score. The crowd filed out and Liam waited for Emily to take her time with her friends. He nodded to the few spectators who looked his way. Today’s game was a late one, and the court was almost bare except for a few chatting kids and waiting parents. He yawned again, and when he opened his eyes, Cassie stood beside him. He blinked, too tired to conceal his surprise. “Sorry,” she chuckled, “didn’t mean to startle you.” “No, that’s alright,” he replied, “long week.” “Here I thought being king would be easy.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest. Liam breathed a laugh, but that was all he could manage. Something had happened, in the last few weeks, to throw him off balance.

“Challenging. But rewarding.” “A standard answer.” She smiled, then sighed. Liam watched her torn expression morph into resolve. “She’s lucky to have you,” she continued, turning to Emily a moment. Liam did not follow her gaze, but watched Cassie instead. “Thank you,” he answered, wary of the direction of the conversation. "My sister was really ill years back, and I moved in to take care of her boys for a while. I was only 24 at the time. I knew nothing about children, and they were so small.” Cassie smiled, and Liam waited to see if she would continue. He was glad the courts were emptying, and there was no one within earshot. “She was living out in the country, and I’d come straight from university in Amsterdam. No one really thought I should be the one to look after them, it was hard, but it… was the right thing to do, I think. They are such dear boys.” She looked down, a little heat in her cheeks, and Liam frowned. “You knew what they needed.” He found himself saying. “Where they’d come from.” She nodded, lifting her head again. “Maybe someone knew better. But I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d failed my sister when she needed me most.” Liam took in her words, feeling the memory come to him again. He blinked, and remembered where he was. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked gently. Cassie turned to him, then away again, cheeks a little redder. “I’m not sure.” She sighed. “I suppose I wanted you to know. It’s hard when no one believes in you. When no one understands.” Her voice trailed as she finished, but a moment later strengthened again. “I haven’t coached Emily before, but I have seen you around. I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but if you ever need someone to talk to.” She lifted her shoulders, trying not to fold in on herself. “I’m here.” Liam pulled away from her, realising how unguarded he had been during the conversation. “Thank you,” was his final reply. What else could he say? Something more articulate if he was awake enough. Cassie nodded, then pulled something from her jacket pocket. As he suspected, the paper she handed him had her name and mobile number. “I’m not asking you to call me or anything,” she said with a more familiar cadence. “But if you need…” she smiled, “I’m here.” And with a nod, she walked away. Liam pocketed the note, and tried and failed to decipher whatever subtext he had missed. He didn't get much time to do so. A rush of colour preceded an impact against his side and he nearly stumbled. Emily wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him, grinning, eyes shining with exertion. “Movie?” she said, leaning her chin against his stomach. Liam could hardly watch her insistence without laughing. “That depends.” He raised his eyebrows, and Emily frowned. “On what?” Leaning down, Liam gently detached her from him, kissed the top of her head, and stepped back. “On whether you can beat me to the car!” He ran, but not to win. Odd looks followed from those around them, but Liam’s focus was on the small shape darting ahead.

Cassandra

The last of the kids departed, and Cassie continued to pack up. The work took her hands to complete but not her mind, and she whisked herself away to some place colourful. Somewhere she could go to create. With everything packed away, she hoisted the ball bag over her shoulder and carried it to her car. She reflected on her interactions with Liam and Emily. Had she been too abrupt with her offer? She’d only known him a few weeks and spoken to him twice, and he had seemed concerned. That was the reason she had offered it, she reminded herself. All she could do was hope that her manner wasn’t off-putting, if a friend was what he needed. And if he didn’t act on her offer, like her mother had always said, at least she had tried. Back in her studio apartment, Cassie tossed her keys in a bowl by the door and the sports bag on the ground. “Back to work,” she informed no one in particular. Peeling off her clothes, she threw them in the direction of her bed. Then she changed into old stained things, and twirled a charcoal pencil between her fingers. With soft music as a backdrop, several hours and a glass of wine passed before she admitted defeat. The line work on her canvas was approximately complete but nothing in her usual colour palette captured the feel of it. The much larger canvas nearby was as blank as the day she bought it. It taunted her lack of inspiration. There was plenty of time, she told it, and pointedly avoided the calendar on her wall ‘with exhibition’ circled two months from now. Around dusk, a miasma of sunset shades began to leak in through the window and touch her other pieces. Her stomach growled on cue as she registered the time. It occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten since midday yesterday. As good a reason as any, she reasoned, to take a break. She grabbed her jacket and keys and headed out again.

---

After dark on a Saturday, the boardwalk came to life. Cassie reclined in the corner of her favourite establishment, drink in one hand, pencil in the other. Always carry a sketchbook. And when she wasn’t in front of a canvas her hand flowed freely. The din of the bar was chatty and friendly. Two and a half walls were open to a balcony over the bay. People meandered in and out or stood or sat in groups, waving their hands in animated recounts of their life events. Warm lighting like this was perfect for sketching. Her knees were nearly against her chest at a booth in the corner and hid most of her work from prying eyes. An easy sketch sat nearby. Rolling her shoulders back, Cassie drew his outline. He hunched over the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, denim jacket concealing muscled arms and a t-shirt. He came most weekends, she noticed -detailing the perfect frown- but never seemed to be fully here. When she looked up again he was gone. “Having fun?” The low voice resonated from the same booth she sat at. Cassie hadn’t noticed his approach. She pulled her sketchbook against her chest as she turned to him. Too late, the regular had noticed his likeness. “What gave it away?” she asked, reaching for her cocktail. He shrugged. “You’ve hardly touched your drink.” He gestured to the almost full glass in her hand, ice almost melted. She grinned and took a sip. “Likewise.” She indicated his glass. He rarely took more than a shot at a time. “This isn’t meant to be rushed.” He gazed at his drink with reverence and she tried not to laugh. “Uhuh.” Cassie took another sip and looked back at her sketch as she put the glass down. “What do you think?” “Of your sketch?” He reclined. “You’re very talented.” “Not what I was going for, but thanks.” Cassie smirked, then turned her book so he could see the drawing better. “Did I get you right?” He shrugged, took another sip, then shook his head. “I don’t frown that much.” Cassie spilled her drink on the table as she laughed, which only made her laugh more. When finally she regained control, he was waiting. “Yes, you do.” The man turned away. His attempt at a severe frown fell short as the tiniest curve of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. She picked up her pencil again and started adding the new expression. “I’m Cassie,” she said into the silence, no longer able to leave his sketches unnamed. Leaning toward her book to focus on the detail of his lips, she waited for his response. Instead, when she looked up, he had turned to her fully, and intensely. “What?” “So you’re Cassie,” he said. She frowned this time. “What do you mean?” He blinked, glanced at his drink for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, sticking out his hand, “I’m Drake.”

What Happened Six Years Ago

Drake

Drake found Liam in the hall of the children’s hospital. The day was more than over, and the quiet was eerie. He lowered himself to the seat beside Liam, and they sat in silence for some indeterminate time, receiving awkward glances from the few hospital staff that passed. “Li—” Drake started, realising with a cough that he hadn’t spoken in several hours. He cleared his throat. “Liam, I think…” But there weren’t any adequate words to come after that. “We should figure out what to do next.” Liam didn’t respond. He stared wide-eyed at the ground, fingers laced around the back of his head and elbows braced on his knees. How far into his mind had he retreated? “We should think about—” “It doesn’t matter.” Drake's chest tightened at the heaviness in Liam’s voice. Like he couldn’t intonate. He paused, and searched for what to say next.   “You can’t sit in a hospital corridor all night. You need to decide what to do. There’s the… her…” Drake turned from his friend, trying not to imagine the view of the night before in that old, musty room. He wasn’t successful. “I can organise our trip back to Cordonia, and you can send people back to investigate, but you need to make the call about her…” he swallowed painfully past the lump in his throat. “Anna’s body.” The words came out hoarse. “Coming with us. Bastien is organising it.” New information to Drake, but he nodded. “And the kid.” “Emily.” Liam croaked, then sighed. The door closest to Liam’s other side was the girl’s room door. “She won’t be here much longer. We need to organise where to leave her.” “Leave her?” Liam looked up, finally, and Drake struggled to keep focus when confronted with the red, grief stricken eyes of his friend. “Once she leaves the hospital, we need to find a home for her.” Liam balked, leaning away from him, and the sudden movement was jarring. “Drake she’s coming with me. How could you even suggest …” Liam stood and looked down to him. “I made a promise.” “You said you’d take care of her.” “At my home, yes.” “Liam you can’t be…” Drake stood as well to be on a level. “She’s barely three years old. You don’t know anything about children.” Liam stared at him. “You still don’t get it.” Drake made a sweeping gesture but continued in an even voice. “Then help me get it. What do you owe her, after what she put you through?” “I promised—” Liam halted as his volume rose, then sighed again and lowered his voice. “I promised I would protect her. Handing her over to social care or their equivalent here, however fortunate she might be in finding a family who treats her as she deserves, is not enough.” Drake grit his teeth, struggling to find a way to bring reason to Liam’s emotional argument. He was no more prepared to raise a child than Drake was. “Three years old,” Drake repeated, hesitant. “She won’t remember what happened. Taking her away from here isn’t fair to her.” “And what if she does remember? Do you think you will ever for… forget…” Liam slumped back against the wall and down to his seat again. He raked his fingers through his hair and groaned, and when he looked up again he looked paler and more tired than Drake had ever seen him. “As I said,” Liam drew in a long breath. “I made a promise. I won’t leave her fate to chance.” No matter his grievance, Drake couldn’t force Liam to consider something he was set against. Maybe in a few days, when his thoughts cleared, he could convince Liam that finding Emily a family was better than taking her in himself. After all, there was no way he would be able to move on from Anna while raising a child who looked just like her.

------

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[harrystyleswatermelon-sugar]

Gas station encounter Part V

Part IV

A few hours later I await him in front of my door and as he pulls up and gets out I can see the frown on his face.

“Hey, this is a relaxing weekend, you shouldn’t have carried your bag down here!” he says and I laugh until I realize he is serious.

“Well I´m sorry, you can take it from here on” he nods and tosses my bag in his back seat. We drive to his home and I am amazed by how huge this is.

“Are you living here alone? Isn´t it lonely? I sometimes hate it in my 3 room flat but this is the next, next level” he smiles and shuts down the engine.

“It is but I wanted to buy something where I can spend my life. And this is big enough to have a family someday and a bunch of kids” he explains as I follow him up the steps. He gives me a house tour and shows me where the huge guest room is. I even have my own bathroom.

“So, let´s get some music on and while I prepare dinner you take a nice bath, how about that? I put everything in your bathroom, enjoy” he winks at me and I smile.

“Thank you, see you in a bit” I wink at him and do to check out what he got for my spa day.

After my bath, which was really relaxing and soothing for my hurting legs and feet, I put on some comfy clothes and go back downstairs. My hair is still wet and when I walk down I can smell the food he made. He listens to some music and has changed into a pair of grey sweatpants, which hang low on his hips. His T-Shirt is the same as before and I watch how he swings his hips to the beat. He has a towel on his shoulder and stirs in a pot.

t“Smells amazing, what is it?” I ask and step closer to him. He turns his head towards me and holds out a spoon for me to taste what he is cooking. It looks like a curry and it definitely tastes like one, too. It´s delicious and when I tell him, he turns a bit red.

We sit down at his huge dining table with a glass of wine and our plates filled with his curry. We chat and laugh and when our eyes meet, I can feel a tingle in my stomach. Eventually, we end up on his couch, cuddled in a cosy blanket and watch a funny movie. I giggle and sip from my wine when I feel his eyes on me.

“What?” I ask and raise an eyebrow but he shakes his head.

“Nothing”

“Then stop staring, it´s rude” I reply and he smirks but turns his head back to the TV.

“I like this,” he says after some time and I look confused at him. He gestures with his hand a vague movement into my direction and back to himself.

“Oh yeah, it´s fun” I agree.

“Is it awkward?” he seems to be a bit scared of my answer but I shake my head.

“Not at all, feels almost natural doesn’t it?” he nods and we smile at each other.

The weekend goes by way too fast and before I can even blink properly it is Sunday afternoon and I stand next to his car, waiting for Harry to bring me home. He forgot his phone and went to get it.

I enjoyed this weekend and I am a bit sad that it is already over. We had a great time and finally got a bit closer emotionally.

“Go it. Ready to go?” he asks smiling, as he comes down the steps and I sigh.

“Not really, I really enjoyed spending time with you outside of work” he beams and takes my bag, to put it in the trunk.

“Glad to hear that because I had a blast. Can´t wait to do this again sometime” I nod and get into the car. The ride home is mostly quiet and I am captured in my own thoughts when he pulls over in front of my house.

“Thank you so much, Harry. I feel like we grew a bit closer, which takes time for me but I am glad that we did this” he smiles widely and tugs a strand of my hair behind my ear. His finger brush lightly against my skin.

“Me too, I´ll see you next week in the hospital. What is your shift?” he asks and I smile because he always comes when I am there.

“Starting at 2 pm”

“Okay, can´t wait” I get out of the car and he hands me my bag, before he pulls me into a hug. I grab his shirt at the back and tug my nose in his shoulder-chest area to inhale his scent.

After a minute or so he lets go of me and smiles.

“Don’t want to draw attention on us, see you soon Y/N”

 The next month goes by and we hardly manage to meet outside of the hospital. Due to the illness of one of my colleagues, I have to work nearly every day and Harry told us, that he is going back to LA to finish his album. He will be gone for a few weeks and I can´t help it but feel sad. I can't get free time until Dr Sally is back. Dr Seymour and I have to manage the whole station and it´s I have a hard time.

The kids and Harrys goodbye was sad but he promised to come back. I am not good with goodbyes and didn’t really know what to say, so we just hugged and said our goodbyes. Sometimes we text a bit but he knows that I am very busy and when finally Dr Sally gets back, I relax and take a few days off.

During this time Harry and I managed to facetime a few times and at first, I am a bit awkward but he makes it normal by being himself and being worried. To be honest, I look like shit and I am tired as hell and so exhausted.

“I have some good news, I will be back in a few days,” he says and my heart skips a beat before pounding like crazy.

“When? Annas final bloodwork is in the lab and will be due in around three days” I ask excited and he grins at me.

“I wanted to surprise you all but I can´t keep a secret from you…I will be home tomorrow night” I clap my hands together and reply:

“That’s awesome, she will be so happy to see you”

“And you? Are you happy to see me?” his voice gets a bit deeper and I can feel the heat in my cheeks.

“Of course, Harry. I miss you”

“Good…because I miss you, too” we smile at each other and chat about his music and how his album work goes before I head to bed.

 Three days later I stand in front of the hospital and wait for Harry to arrive. It´s Wednesday and I have to be back at work on Friday but I promised Anna and her family to be there when the blood tests come back. I chose my red duffle coat and as I wait it starts to snow. I am freezing but instead of waiting inside, where everybody knows me, I keep standing outside.

I put on my hat and tug my hands deeper into my pockets. Where the hell is he? I look around and see a tall man with a beanie and a dark coat walking towards me. He wears warm boots and gloves. His green eyes are fixed on me and he smiles as he comes closer.

“Hello there, you are so bright” he laughs and pulls me into a hug. I giggle into his ear and feel his hot lips on my cheek.

“Hey, how are you? You look great and relaxed” I compliment him and he beams.

“Thank you, you look lovely as always. I like the coat, red suits you. Wait…is that make-up? Just for me?” he mocks me and I shake my head and roll my eyes at him. Of course, I tried to look my best.

“Oh shut up. Come on” I pull him with me, trying to get him to stop but he won´t.

“So tell me, why did you put make-up on? You look so different but still cute. I like it but I like you anyway” he asks again and again until we are in the elevator and I face him finally.

“There is no deeper meaning behind me putting make-up on. I just wanted to, so calm the fuck down”

“Hm. I hoped it was because of me” he mumbles and looks down to his feet.

“What would that change, H?” he smiles as the door opens and I immediately get a bit nervous. This is Annas bis day.

“Harryyyy” she squeals and flies into his arms. I laugh and hug her parents, knocking on the office door.

“Oh hey, you are here for Annas results aren´t you?” Phil asks and I nod. He smiles at me and kisses my cheek. He is always aa bit flirty with me and I kind of like it. He is just a bit older than me and we always liked each other.

“Yes, we are. How are you?” I ask him and he nods. He had an operation a few weeks back when he couldn’t work.

“Better, thanks for doing all those extra hours. I owe you one…maybe some dinner soon?” he asks and I smile widely.

“Sure, I´d like that” he returns the smile and prints the results before we head back to the others, his hand on the small of my back.

“So Anna, you excited? Oh, you must be Harry, I am Dr Phil Sally” he introduces himself and shakes Harry´s hand. I feel a bit uncomfortable when his eyes wander to me and how Phil handles me. I never took a piss out of it and I honestly never thought about it but now…I can see that he is a bit hurt, I think. I immediately step back from Phil and wrap my arm around Anna.

“Soooo…this looks great Anna. I think you made it and you are clean” he says and I put my hands in front of my face and start crying. Anna hugs me and I lift her up into my arms, we both are crying and I am so overwhelmed with joy. Of course, I know that she will have to go to checkups rhythmically and often the cancer strikes back later but this is great news. She can have a few carefree years and experience being a teenager.

“Thank you for everything,” her mom says and we all hug each other, with watery eyes. Phil leads them into the office to give further information and I wave goodbye to them.

“I´ll text you about dinner” he says not too loud and kisses my cheek before joining them in the office.

“You okay?” Harry asks and I nod, trying to rescue my make-up. I smile at him and he smirks.

“So you and him, huh?” he asks and I look confused at him.

Part VI

Taglist:

@wotamelonsugar @lanallaa @highladyofelfhame-remastered @lucky-worm @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @nibabyy @magnificentbonkfarmlover

Hey guys, I am so sorry for letting you down but my life has been a bit crazy the last weeks/months. I am very sorry for keeping you waiting...I really am. 

[biwenqing]

long for you

Wei Wuxian has often been accused of speaking without thinking. This time, he might be overthinking what just needs to come from the heart.

for fytheuntamed on tumblr's untamed spring fest day four prompt: bunnies

Teen | Words: 1568 | ao3

Wei Wuxian sat, looking at the blank paper in front of him. He wanted to fill it, spill onto it everything that was chasing itself around his mind. Maybe if he put the words down, he would be able to speak them without drowning.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up and wetted a brush. Wei Wuxian began only for no characters to reveal themselves. Instead, he began to carefully draw the little bunny nest he had found when he camped beside the road the day before. Three little babies, their eyes still mostly closed and ears so small, curled into a perfect circle of grass. The mother must have been in a hurry for Wei Wuxian to be able to spy them, the tangle of leaves that made up the roof not fully covering the babies.

Once he captured the image, Wei Wuxian wrote around the picture, describing what he had seen. How he had settled on the other side of the road with Lil Apple, and watched for the mother to come back, ready to chase off any fox or hawk that might prey on the nest. He had used some of the Lan meditation techniques to rest while he kept watch.

[That felt fitting, Lan Zhan. I knew that you would have done the same.] Wei Wuxian wrote as he reached the final space on the paper. [I often find you with me, even though you are far from my side. I imagine your reaction to all the people and things along my travels, hear your voice in my dreams. I miss you terribly.]

Signing his name, Wei Wuxian tried not to linger on the words as he waited for the ink to dry. It was only a fraction of what wanted to come pouring out. But there were things that were better said in person, he had to remember. He could only hope that Lan Wangji would understand. He folded it and took it to be sent out.

The woman who accepted the letter raised her brows at the address. “Gusu is only a few hours ride away,” she said but then quickly waved a hand. “Sorry, not my place to comment.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile was more forced than normal. “I’m in town for a little bit. I will check back before I leave in case there is a response.”

The woman nodded. “As you say. Have a good day, young master.”

Returning to the inn, Wei Wuxian stopped to make sure Lil Apple was content in the stables. As content as she ever could be anyway. Her bad temper seemed to have gained her a priority spot among the horses and ponies. Wei Wuxian gave her the carrot he had brought and went to find his own dinner.

Wei Wuxian was able to shake off some of the odd melancholy that had been hanging on him like ill-fitting robes, after some wine and joining different tables to collect information from other travelers. Talking with his waiter as well got him the local gossip. There seemed to be some issues with an old well just outside of town, haunted by a spirit of a child who had fallen in long ago. It wasn’t pressing, only harassing those who came too close, so Wei Wuxian decided that he could leave it for the morning. Another unpaying job, but he didn’t mind. It was important to let that spirit rest.

The room he had paid for was small, unlike the lavish ones Lan Wangji had been able to afford when they traveled together. It was a nice break from sleeping rough, and Wei Wuxian was able to order an almost warm bath so he could wash some of the smell of donkey off himself. Letting his outer robes dry after he washed them, he dressed in just his red ones before climbing into bed.

It wasn’t late but the day’s travel had been long. Wei Wuxian fell asleep as soon as he pulled the covers over himself, leaving the window open on a summer night.

The sound of someone landing on the floor, the boards creaking, had Wei Wuxian startling out of bed sometime later. He reached for Chenqing where it rested next to the bed, turning to face the intruder.

Even when lit only by weak moonlight, Lan Wangji seemed to glow. It must have been a bit of a struggle to get through the window. Wei Wuxian blinked slowly trying to process this as his sleep-addled brain seemed to give up functioning by the sudden appearance of Lan Wangji, too much like the dream he had been startled from.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji apparently had no such issue gathering his thoughts. He strode across the room, hand gently wrapping around Wei Wuxian’s wrist.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathed, trying to read his face despite the deep shadows. It was too dark. “Are you angry at me?”

“If you were to pass by so close without coming to see me, yes,” Lan Wangji said, letting go and stepping back a bit. He waved his hand to close the window, and again to light the two little lamps in the room.

Wei Wuxian looked away and admitted, “I hadn’t decided.” He wanted to make sure he had the right words in the right order before he saw Lan Wangji. This was not the time for his rambling.

“Why the letter?” Lan Wangji asked, then seemed to notice that Wei Wuxian was only dressed in his under layer. His ears turned red, as they did when he was embarrassed, and he focused just on Wei Wuxian’s face. “Why say that you missed me but not come see me?”

Wei Wuxian tried to hold Lan Wangji’s eyes. With the light, he could see that there was a tension around his eyes, in the lines of his mouth. Wei Wuxian felt something inside him sink. “I have made you unhappy.” That was the opposite of what he always tried to do, despite what others may believe of his actions.

“Only in that I miss just as fiercely,” the words came out in a rush and seemed to surprise Lan Wangji as much as they did Wei Wuxian. He didn’t stop though. “Every day I wish you were at my side, or that I was at yours.”

“But your duties...” Wei Wuxian said even as he stepped closer, letting Chenqing rest on the bed once more. Lan Wangji not only let him into his personal space but reached to take his hand.

“Don’t make me happy as Wei Ying does,” Lan Wangji said, eyes searching Wei Wuxian’s face.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know what he would find there, but he knew what he wanted. Reaching up his free hand, he gently touched Lan Wangji’s cheek, trying to find the mirror to his own truth. Lan Wangji pressed closer, turning his head into Wei Wuxian’s hand until his fingers brushed the headband.

Wei Wuxian let out a shaky breath but didn’t pull away. He felt silly at the way tears gathered in his eyes, but there was no way he could contain all that he felt. “How can we have only been parted a month, and it hurts this badly?”

Lan Wangji didn’t have an answer, lifting Wei Wuxian’s other hand up and pressing a kiss to his fingers. His voice was rough when he said, “Come home with me Wei Ying. Come home until I am able to travel with you.”

“I will,” Wei Wuxian said, not needing to think it over anymore, not when Lan Wangj voiced what he wanted most in the world. But he had one thing left that worried him. “Your reputation-”

“Is strong and will not be harmed by me finally being happy.” Lan Wangji pressed another kiss to his hand, and it felt like fire being sent through Wei Wuxian’s veins.

Wei Wuxian moved his other hand to run it over Lan Wangji’s ribbon. Lan Wangji didn’t pull away, instead, he began to smile in his way. Wei Wuxian wanted to taste that proof that he could make Lan Wangji happy. “Lan Zhan?”

“Wei Ying?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Always.”

~*~

The innkeeper was clearly surprised the next morning when two people left the room he had rented to one, but he didn’t comment. Nor did he seem put out by Wei Wuxian saying he wouldn’t be staying another night, especially when Lan Wangji paid and left a large tip. Walking out of town with Lil Apple in tow, they aimed to stop by the haunted well before turning towards Gusu. So much was the same and yet to Wei Wuxian, it felt as if the world had shifted overnight.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Did the mother come back?” Lan Wangji asked, breaking their companionable silence.

“What?”

“The bunnies,” Lan Wangji looked over at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian found it was possible for him to smile even wider. Taking Lan Wangji’s hand, he tangled their fingers together. “She did. She fed them and then covered the nest properly.”

Lan Wangji nodded, seeming pleased.

“Lan Zhan, you really do have such a soft spot for bunnies.”

“Mn. And Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, leaning into Lan Wangji’s side. “It’s an honor to be placed so highly.”

“It is the bunnies who should be honored,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian knew he was sharing in the laughter.

[iamfallinforeverything]

I’m sorry (Peter Parker Soulmate!AU)

So it’s been a while again.. Life is just kinda messy right now.  I’ve tried to write one of the requests @wwesarahjaneroszko made but I don’t really know if that’s what you wanted 😅 Also I’ve tried my best with this but Tumblr kept deleting it and I think it could be better. idk

Also I made this an soulmate!AU because I really wanted to try to write one. 

Fandom: Marvel (Tony Stark and Peter Parker)

Summery: Being Tony Starks daughter was... hard. Especially when your soulmate is trying to build a connection with you. 

Warnings: swearing, timeline is a little bit off (just Peters and readers age), shitty writing? also no angst this time hahah 

“Daddy?”, I said as I walked up to him. 

He was sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand while he was looking at something. As soon as he heard my voice he put the cup down and turned himself a little bit to look at me. 

“Yes little one?”, he answered. 

“What is this? Am I ill?”, I asked and tears pricked at my eyes. 

I pulled the sleeve of my shirt up and revealed my arm. I kept it hidden the past few days. Everywhere were black lines and dots. They itched and from all the scratching was my arm covered in red streaks. I couldn’t thing about anything from where they would be from other than some illness. And I didn’t wanted to be ill. 

My father got up and took my wrist in his hand and started to turn my arm. He let his thumb run over one of the marks before he looked at me and smiled sadly. 

“No my love, you’re not ill. You don’t have to worry about them.”, he said and together we walked to the couch and set down. 

“What are these then?”, I asked and looked at all the lines. 

“These are your soulmate marks. Your soulmate is drawing or writing on his skin and through your connection they appear on your skin as well. When he washes them of or when they start to fade away, they will disappear from your skin as well. But they won’t hurt you. They are a little bit itchy at the beginning but that will go away as well.”, he said and wrapped his arm around my shoulders while he was speaking. 

“But I don’t want a soulmate. I don’t need one.”, I pouted and crossed my arms in front of my chest. 

“Everyone has a soulmate my love.”, he laughed and stroked my head.

“Was Mommy your soulmate?”, I asked him and avoided his gaze. She was a hard topic, for the both of us. 

“No. We loved eathother, but we weren’t soulmates.”, he answered and stroked my head again. 

“Did... did mommy found her soulmate?”, I asked and started to play with my fingers. 

“Yes little one, she did.” 

“Did she left because of him?” 

“You’re so smart.”, he said and gave me a little kiss on the top of head. “But yes, she left because of her soulmate.” 

“Do you have a soulmate Daddy?”, I asked and looked at his arms. There weren’t any marks. 

“Everyone has one, I told you.”, he answered. 

I shifted a little bit so I could look at his face. 

“Where is she?” 

“I haven’t found her yet.”, he shrugged. 

“Why?”

“I had your mother. I didn’t needed her and I didn’t wanted her because when I was younger I thought that soulmates were stupid. I wanted to be independet and I wanted to choose myself with who I spend the rest of my life with. But that was stupid. Soulmates are here for a reason and I regret it that I didn’t searched for her.”, he answered and put a strand of my hair behind my ear. 

“You can look for her now Daddy.”

“It’s not that easy little one.”, he smiled sadly.

“Can I draw her something Daddy?”, I asked and looked at him with my puppy eyes. He never says no when I looked at him like that. 

“Of course you can little one. I’ll get you a pen.”, he laughed. 

He got up to get one of the pens that laid on the kitchen isle. As he sat back down he gave it to me and rolled his sleeve a little bit more up so I had more room to draw. 

“But I don’t know if she’s going to respond to your drawing. It’s been a while since we communicated.”, he said. 

“That dosen’t matter. It’s just a reminder that you’re still here and that we will find her.”, I smiled and he laughed again. 

“You’re way to smart for you’re age Y/N.” 

I’ve started with a little butterfly. After that I drew a flower and an apple tree right next to it. Underneath it I drew my father and myself. He hold my hand and we were both smiling widely. 

“Now she knows that we have an apple tree with flowers next to it. And that butterflys are always there. And we’re happily waiting for her.”, I said as I proudly looked at my work. 

“It’s beautiful little one. You did a great job.”, my father answered and looked at my drawing. 

“Thank you.”, I answered and started to draw a little butterfly on my own wrist. 

“Do you think he will see it?”, I asked and pointed to the butterfly that I just drew. 

“He will.”, he answered and gave me a kiss on my cheek. 

I laughed and rolled my sleeves back down. My father did the same and then he got up and held his hand out to me. 

“Come on little one, what do you want to eat?”, he asked and together we walked back to the kitchen. 

~~

Over the years the random lines and dots became little drawings and words. But I didn’t knew much about my soulmate. All I knew was that his name was Peter and that he was almost a year older than me. 

And he tried to get to know me. He really did but he came at a time were my life was just chaos. My father was captured by terrorist and noone knew if he was coming back alive. And after his return I’ve stayed at his side to make sure that he was alright, like he did for me all this years. I’ve stood at his side as he announced that he was Ironman. I’ve stood at his side as he decided to change some things at Stark Industries and I’ve stood at his side as he faught against his long term partner. He had always been right next to my side and now it was simply my time to stand next to his. 

And getting my soulmate to know was simply too much to handle at that time. I saw his questions and his little drawings, but often I simply hadn’t a pen with  me or time to scribble an answer. And on day he just stopped trying and I didn’t made an effort to change that. My father was my number one priority and everything else didn’t mattered.  

Also how was I supposed to explain that? Sorry I couldn’t write back because my Dad is Ironman and it’s a shit ton of work? No. Who would believe that? 

~~

Right now we were sitting in one of the conference rooms and listened to Thaddeus Ross. He was a dick, I could see it the moment he walked in.  And his Sokovia Accords weren’t really well thought out. There were still important questions without an answer, but my father didn’t cared. All he saw was the danger he and all the other Avengers radiated. He searched for an solution for all the guilt he was feeling and these accords where the right thing. So of course he would say yes. Of course he would say it’s a good idea without thinking twice about it. Maybe I should talk with him once more when we were alone. This didn’t seemed like a good idea. Something was strange about Mr. Ross and I didn’t liked what he was implying. The Avengers weren’t dangours. They were still learning how to function as a team and how they could use all of their abilitys. 

These accords weren’t the right thing to do. They made the Avengers to puppets of the goverment who would use them as they were pleased and that wasn’t a good solution. Eventhough my father thought it was the only one.

I couldn’t find the right moment to talk with him and later on everyone was sitting in the common room. They were already talking about the accords and I took a seat next to Nat. 

Dad and Steve were already having a pretty harsh argument and I just watched them. Until my father pulled this picture up.

“Yes, he died Dad. It’s tragic and his death was unnesessary, but it happens. How many lost their life in an unnesessary war? How many loose their life because some asshole decided to see what it’s like to kill someone? It happens Dad and you can take his death and the deaths from all of these other people to learn from it. To be better the next time, to do better next time. Because if you sign this contract you’re going be nothing but a puppet to the goverment who will use you for all their bullshit. Who will keep you looked in here and take all your things that you’ve worked so hard on. They will take your freedom and your own will. They will take you Dad and I don’t want that for you. You’ve done so much for all of us and it shouldn’t end like this. You deserve better.”, I said and looked him in the eyes. 

And for a moment I thought I would have changed his mind. For a moment I saw this agreement in his eyes but it vanished again and he started to look angry. 

“Are you really on their side?”, he asked and pointed to Steve and Sam. 

“I’m on nobodys side Dad. I’m not an Avenger. I’m your daughter who has to live with your choice as well and I don’t want that you make the wrong one.”

“You’re right Y/N, you are my daughter and I make the decisions. It’s my job and not yours. These accords are the only option to stop us from going on another killing spree. We need someone who will take a look over everthing from a different perspectiv. We can’t decided such things by ourself.” 

“And who says you have to? You can talk with them, make a deal with them, another accord that won’t turn you into a fucking puppet!” 

“Watch what you say young lady. I am still your father and not some friend from school. Be careful with what you say.”, he warned me and he looked so angry. 

It’s been a while since I’ve seen him this angry. 

“Fine. I just don’t want you to make a mistake that you’ll regret. I just don’t want to see you suffering again but if you want that, than go ahead, sign it and you’ll see what it’ll brings you. Because I can tell you from the look on Steves face that you’re going to loose him, as an ally and as a friend.”, I said and looked at both of them. 

Steves gaze dropped to the floor and it was the first time in my life that I experienced my father speechless.

“Just think about it Dad. It’s not the right thing to do.”, I said and decided it was the best thing to leave. 

As I said, I wasn’t an Avengers I wasn’t the one to make the final decision. I wouldn’t be as affected as them. 

Later that day I was laying in my bed with a pen in my hand. I really needed someone right now and I had noone. Everyone wanted to be my friend because of my last name that was Stark and not because of me. I was alone on this planet. But I knew there was this special someone that was made just for me and I fucked that up as well. I ignored him because I was in so much pain and stress that I didn’t wanted him in my life right then and there. And now I wanted him more than ever in my life. Someone who I could talk to and someone who I could go to when I didn’t wanted to be home. But did he still want me in his life? I must have hurt him with my ignorance. It was worth shot, right? 

So I draw a little spider right on wrist with a little speech buble that said I’m sorry.

~~

Some time flew by and I still hadn’t got an answer from my soulmate. I repainted the little spider over and over again. I wanted an answer. I wanted to sort things out. I needed him in my life more than ever and I wouldn’t give up on him. But.. maybe he had already given up on me? He gave me same silent treatment I gave him all that time ago. Maybe he didn’t wanted me anymore? Maybe I wouldn’t fit into his life after all? Maybe I have lost him before I even met him.  But I wouldn’t give up! I wanted him in my life. I wanted to make it up to him and I was at least as stubborn as my father and my soulmate was going to see that now. I wouldn’t give up on us. I would find him and would talk to him, even if that meant to search for someone who had a little talking spider on their wrist. 

At the moment I was waiting for the arrival of spiderman. My father wanted to give him the suit back he made for him and ask him to be a member of the avengers.

Pepper had organized a press conference for the announcement that Spiderman was officially a member of the Avengers. While Pepper was waiting inside the press room with all the reporters and journalists, was father outside and waited for Spiderman. I stood at the window and looked down to see when Happy would arrive with him.

My father said that Spiderman was probably somewhere my age and I was more than courise to see someone this young with special abilitys. Also it would be nice to have someone to hang around with in my age. Don’t get me wrong I loved all of the avengers, they were my family, but I was by far the youngest and I just wanted to have someone that was my age. And with Spiderman I would have that. 

So I got pretty excited when I saw Happys car. Unfortunatly he parked at a spot where I couldn’t see them. 

“They are here.”, I said quietly to myself and walked to the door where the press conference should happen. 

Between the doors were the new Spiderman Ironsuit. Because Spiderman would need it to meet the reporters. Patiently I waited for my father and Spiderman. I could see them before I could I hear them and of course my father needed his dramatic appearance so they walked pretty slowly. 

I rolled my eyes and focused on the boy next to him. He was handsome, I had to admit that and his nervousness around my father made me smile. He would be good company, I knew that already. 

Of course my father just kept talking to him about all that becoming an Avengers stuff and just ignored me. I rolled with my eyes again and just waited patiently for them to finish with their conversation. That was my punishmet for my outbrust over the accords. Being ignored. But I was fine with that because at the end of the day my father would still come to me to tell me about the newest stuff that happend. 

And the best part was when Spiderman turned down the oppertunity to be an avengers. When he turned down to live with us in the Tower and when he chose to be the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. My father accepted his dicision, of course he did. He would never force someone to be a part of something he didn’t wanted to be. 

But right as Spiderman was about to leave I made sure he would know who I was. 

“Go wait in the car. I’ll bring you home, just need a minute.”, Happy said and I smiled. My turn. 

“I can bring you down. It’ll can get a little bit confusing around here.”, I said and walked up to him. 

Spiderman seemed to be even more nervous when I approached him which made him even cuter. 

“Yeah.. that.. that would be nice. I’m Peter.”, he said and smiled at me. 

“Nice to meet you Peter. I’m Y/N.”, I answered and held my hand out for him to shake. 

He looked down at my hand and immediatly his smile froze. He took my hand into his and turned it around. My sleeve had slipped a little up and revealed the little spider. Instandly I turned red and pulled my hand back to pull my sleeve down again. He certainly had to think I was some crazy fan through the little spider. After all, he was spiderman. I looked at my feet in embaresstment. What a stupid idea to draw a little spider. I could have used everything else. Why a spider? 

But Peter said nothing. Instead he pulled his own sleeve up to reveal the same little spider. It was the same spider with the same speech buble that said I’m sorry. I looked at him shocked. He was my soulmate? Spiderman was my soulmate? The fucking universe was kidding with me. Ironman as father and Spiderman as soulmate? How as I supposed to live a quiet life with these two at my side. But on the other side I couldn’t be happier. He would knew exactly what I meant when I would say that all of this superhero stuff would get on my nerves. Because he was one. Because he surely had experienced the same feelings about that. 

And the longer I thought about it the more I liked the idea of spiderman being my soulmate. 

“What just happend?”, my father said and kicked me back into reality. 

“I’ve found my soulmate.”, I smiled and looked at him. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”, he said and rolled with his eyes. But right after that he started to smile. I knew that he would be happy for me. 

“It never gets boring Dad.”, I laughed and when I looked back at Peter his eyes got a little bit bigger. 

“D-Dad?”, he said insecure. 

“Yeah. He’s my dad.”, I answered and he swallowed heavily. 

“Don’t worry.  I’ll make sure he’s nice to you, right Dad?”, I said and looked at my Dad. 

“I’m always nice. I don’t know what you mean little one.”, he answered and put his hands up in a defensiv position. 

“I’ll remind you on that Dad. Come on Peter, I’ll bring you back down.”, I said and started to walk the corridor down. 

Peter mumeled a quick goodbye and then I could hear how he walked a little bit faster to catch up with me. 

“That was a test from your father, wasn’t it?”, Peter asked and look at me. 

“Of course.”, I said and laughed. 

Maybe it was for the better when Peter thought that it was really a test. He didn’t needed to be an avenger just yet. 

We walked a little in silence. I didn’t knew what to say. There were clearly some thinks that we should talk about but now wasn’t the right time. We needed to get to know eachother. 

“Hey-y Y/N?”, Peter said as we left the buliding. 

“Yeah?”, I asked back and looked at him. 

“Can I.. Could I have your number? So we can stay in touch?”, Peter asked nervously and scratched his neck. 

His sleeve slipped up a little while he was doing it and I could see the little spider again. 

“Of course.”, I answered and smiled at him. 

He pulled his phone out and gave it to me. I wrote my number down and gave it back to him. 

“Thank you.”, he said and I just smiled. 

“Friday, could you open Happys car for me please?”, I asked her. 

“Of course Y/N.”, she answered and I could hear how she unlocked the car. 

“Thanks Friday.”, I said and opened the door for Peter. 

He sat inside the car and I looked at him through the open door. 

“I hope I’ll hear from you soon.”, I smiled. 

“Sooner than you expect.”, he answered and smiled back at me. 

“I’ll count on that Spiderman.”, I laughed and closed the door. 

I walked the stairs back up and right as I opened the door my buzzed at I took it out of my pocket. 

I’m sorry as well., stood on my screen from an unknown number. 

It’s fine. I think we’re even., I answered and entered the building. 

~~

Right now I was laying in my bed and held phone up so I could see the face of my boyfriend. 

“I should probably go to bed, but I really don’t want to.”, he said and smiled widely. 

“You really should. Who knows when you need to get up because someone needs the friendly neighbourhood spiderman?”, I teased. 

He rolled with his eyes and laughed. 

“I love you Y/N.”, he said and my heart started to raise. 

“I love you too Peter.”, I answered and smiled at him. 

“And now the two of you can go to bed!”, I could hear his aunt scream from the back which made me laugh. 

“Goodnight.”, I chuckled. 

“Goodnight Y/N.”, he answered and we ended the phone call. 

I couldn’t be happier then right now. 

[statistical-improbabilities]

OCtober Day 7: Cliff

Thanks to @oc-growth-and-development!

Laena was intended to be just a backstory character for my oc Mya, an assassin currently employed on a pirate ship. In canon, she’s dead by now, but every so often I still like to flesh out her story. It’s not a happy one, though. (CW: kidnapping.)

To set the mood, listen to Fear by Sleeping at Last.

They’d been assigned to the midnight patrol again, though it was well past midnight by then. Mya was wearing multiple coats, one of which was Laena’s and far too big for her, yet she was still shivering. Laena stood close to her for warmth, though she was largely unbothered by the cold or wind or snow. Mya had pointed that out jealously.

“How come you’re not shivering?”

Laena just squeezed Mya’s hand, rubbed it between her own to put more feeling in the younger girl’s fingertips. “I grew up here. I’m familiar with this.”

“Hmph.” Mya was quiet for a little while, but another thought occurred to her soon enough. “Wait. Here, meaning here here? With the League? Or just in the mountains?”

“Just in the mountains,” she repeated quietly, lifting her gaze slightly. The snow was swirling so violently that she couldn’t make out most of the craggy peaks, but the tallest and nearest few weren’t completely hidden. “But I’ve been here most of my life, yes. Since I was six.”

“Damn.” Mya swore, softly and appreciatively. It was a strange sequence from a twelve-year-old. “How’d you end up here so little? They didn’t find me until I was eight.”

Laena fell silent, listening as the wind howled around them. It was beginning to pick up. Sleet like shards of ice pelted her bare cheeks, and beside her, Mya pulled her hood nearly down to her nose. An errant curl fell out from behind Laena’s ear, and she raised a gloved hand to replace it, then extended that hand to Mya.

“Come with me. We’ll be back by morning.”

~

They hadn’t taken her in the dead of night. The sun was shining the way it did at high noon, except it was already hours past. Days were much longer under summer’s warmth, and Laena relished every moment of sunlight she could get.

Those moments had become fewer and farther between as her mother had fallen ill. Not the plague, the village healer had said, or at least not the most recent one that had swept over the lowlands. But if it wasn’t the plague, he didn’t have anything to treat it with, and her brother had signed up to defend the village with the other young men, so Laena had been relegated to care for her mother, though she didn’t quite know how.

She did what she could. She knew where to find fresh snowmelt for the cloths that went on her forehead and behind her neck, and she learned how to climb onto a chair to ladle some soup into a bowl when her mother could stomach a small meal, and she knew when to pull the curtain over the door to prevent an early ice wind from entering their home. Sometimes her brother came home with news from the healer about some new cure the lowlanders were trying, for other diseases that weren’t quite the plague but fell over the villages in a very plague-like manner. None of the details mattered to Laena, only the desperation that came as her mother failed to get better.

When her mother was asleep, she snuck out into the village to listen to the adults talk. They spoke of mysterious illnesses that weren’t illnesses at all but disappearances into the night, and men hiding in the woods dressed in snow leopards’ skins with knives sharper than teeth, and miraculous medicines that would cure any ailment. One particular rumor captured Laena’s attention, and she ran to find her brother when she heard. He jumped when she snuck up behind him, like he did every time. If Laena had been less concerned about things, she might have poked fun at him for it, especially since he was guarding the village with the other young men, but as she was worried about their mother, she did not.

“The men in town, they were talking about the healer—they didn’t know I was listening—they say he’s talking to a mysterious man, one who has the riches to buy the entire village and the power to kill us all!”

“Be quiet, Laena,” he snapped at her, taking on the air of superiority and impatience that only older brothers could. “You probably heard wrong, and you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping again. What if Mother woke up and you weren’t there?”

“She’s asleep, I checked,” she protested, but there was hardly any force left in it. “I only thought… if this man is visiting our village, and if he’s really that rich—he could find a cure.”

His face didn’t change, but he puffed out his chest a little in a way that made Laena want to kick him. She was tall enough to reach the best place for it, too. “Then I will find him and talk to him, and you will go back home and do what you’re supposed to do.” All her previous energy vanished, Laena only nodded, rounding her shoulders in as she turned away and began the long trudge back home.

 Her brother returned later than usual that night looking rather fearful, but more importantly, looking very annoyed. “You were wrong. There’s no rich and mysterious man with a cure for Mother. I bet you made it all up.”

“I didn’t! I heard it, I really did!”

“Then why did I look all throughout the village and not see anyone new?”

Laena quieted at that, and stared down at her bowl of soup. Their mother had only woken for a brief meal, and had fallen asleep again before Laena had finished. Now she wasn’t hungry anymore, and she pushed her bowl over to her brother for him to finish off. “Maybe I’ll find him,” she said quietly, hardly a whisper. “I’ll find him on my own, without your help.”

“I hope you don’t,” said her brother, equally quietly. He didn’t meet her eyes, but Laena had already looked away.

The next day, she made sure to rise with the sun, and crawled out a window so she wouldn’t disturb her brother. He would be furious to find her gone, as that meant he would have to stay with their mother for the day until she returned, but it had never ended badly before. He knew she always came back with her head down at the end of the day.

But the sun was shining, and she was determined to find that mysterious man.

Their village was too small to support a stranger, even for a night, so Laena took to the surrounding woods. The ground was rocky and full of mud from the melted snow that trickled down from the peaks of the mountains, and it took a considerable effort to make any progress. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to give up, so she searched for many hours, often getting herself lost and then found in the process as she regained her bearings, until she found herself carefully tiptoeing along the edge of a narrow cliff that opened onto a verdant valley. 

There on the other side was a fortress that her entire village could have fit inside. People that looked smaller than toothpicks stood at attention all around the structure, and even on the roof. One, seemingly on a whim, shot a passing bird from out of the sky with expert aim. Laena gasped, and a gloved hand covered her mouth.

She couldn’t draw in a breath, not even to scream, with the hand restricting her airways. The hand’s owner laughed softly. His voice was a low croon that had it not sounded so cruel, might have sung a lullaby for peaceful sleep on the nights she tossed and turned with nightmares.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” his voice said, and Laena tried to push his hand away, but he only held her tighter. “Spirited, too. Perhaps more than I’d like, but beggars can’t be choosers.” That horrible laugh again. “Sick mother, headstrong brother, and nowhere to go for you, hm? No one has any idea where you are, or when you might return. No one gives a shit.”

Her eyes went wide at the curse, one even her brother tried not to use around her. She tried to bite down on his hand, but the glove was there for a reason. Laena squeezed her eyes shut. “Please let me go,” she whimpered against his hand, and though she couldn’t see it, she could feel him begin to smile in a way that was even more horrible than his laugh.

“Oh, I certainly could… but now that you know I was here, I’m afraid I can’t.” Faster than she could react, he slipped a length of fabric over her eyes and another into her mouth so she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what secrets he spoke of. The only thing she was aware of was the way he ever so carefully flicked her tears off of her cheeks, one by one, and so wasn’t ready for when the back of his hand struck the side of her face.

Laena fell to her knees, tears flowing faster, but only managed to crawl a few feet before he latched onto her wrist and pulled her upright again. “You’ll be coming with me,” he promised with a sneer. “And if you think me a monster, think again. Your mother will be healed by month’s end, and your brother will be thanking me for it. I knew what medicine you needed, and my price was fair, you see. I only needed another initiate. But don’t worry. He and your mother will forget about you soon enough.”

He dragged her away from the cliffside, and unable to fight back, she went quietly with him.

~

Atop the jagged cliff, with snow blowing sideways and fading into a fog, Laena couldn’t see the fortress that was the southern Assassins’ League base, but she knew it was there. Mya’s gaze fixated on the same point, and hesitantly, she pulled Laena into an embrace. Laena wrapped one arm around Mya’s shoulders, holding her close as the younger girl buried her frozen face into her side.

She’d wanted to tell the real story, the one that Roberts had most certainly laughed about with the more senior assassins after he’d brought her to the League and left her to fend for herself amid the much older trainees, but when she’d opened her mouth, nothing had come out. She wasn’t ready, not even for Mya.

So she’d abridged the truth, said she’d grown up in a village that had been buried by an avalanche in recent years, and that the cliff they stood atop was where she’d been found and brought in for training. It wasn’t a lie, not really. Only a single piece of a much more extensive truth, one that she resolved to keep locked deep inside like she did with all other truths.

The sun’s rays peeked over the horizon at last, and Laena looked away. “Let’s go back,” she whispered to Mya. She stared at the cliff’s edge for a moment longer, but like every other time, she backed quietly away.

[jade4813]

Like Moths to a Flame, Chapter 3

Fandom: North and South

Title: Like Moths to a Flame

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: John/Margaret

Synopsis: “I hope you realize that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over.“ Margaret decides to confront John about his unjust judgment of her character, but the two have always been drawn to each other, and things quickly get out of hand. In the aftermath, she agrees to marry him to satisfy propriety, but she cannot forget how ready he was to believe the worst of her. Can love survive without trust, or will the two find a way to work through the misunderstandings that have plagued their relationship from the start?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“Oh, Bessie. How I wish you were here,” Margaret whispered into the wind as she stepped off her usual path through the graveyard and lowered herself onto the sparse grass that sprouted between the headstones. Hailing from such different backgrounds, theirs had been an unlikely friendship in the beginning, but the two women had shared genuine affection in the end. It still hurt to remember Bessie’s pale face and the wheezing cough that had eventually carried her away, and she mourned her friend’s absence every bit as much as she longed for the other woman’s counsel.

Bessie had been her first – and, for a time, only – true friend in this godforsaken place, and in her absence, Margaret had nobody to confide in, nobody with whom to share her secrets, such as they were. Closing her eyes, she pretended her friend was sitting by her side, casting aside the illness that had taken her as she reveled in the brisk afternoon air. “I’ve made such a mess of things with John.”

“Oh, John, is it?” In her imagination, the wind that whipped around her carried a saucy laugh and the voice that had once been so dear to her.

“It isn’t like that!” she protested weakly. It wasn’t hard to picture Bessie’s disbelieving expression, and she sighed. “Although I have behaved shamefully. Even if you were here, I doubt you would ever believe it.”

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about. I told you before, you could do a lot worse than John Thornton.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I may have kissed him, but I have no designs on Mr Thornton. He saw me with Fred and misunderstood, and now he will never forgive me. Sometimes I wish I could tell him the truth, but—” She broke off, giving her head another shake. “No. He once claimed to love me, but he was all too eager to think the worst of me. I could never love a man who had so little faith in me. In fact, I think I might hate him for it.”

Her voice lacked conviction, and the Bessie that lived in her memory and her imagination laughed once more. “Are you sure about that? I don’t know how things are done in the South, but up here in the North, we don’t often go around kissing men we hate.”

“I do,” Margaret protested weakly, the wind carrying away her words and the memory of her friend’s laughter. “I hate him.” She wanted to hate him, at least. If she hated him, maybe the reminder of his poor opinion of her wouldn’t hurt so much.

John was returning from the shops the next time he saw her. She didn’t notice him at first, and he took advantage of the opportunity her ignorance afforded him to soak her in. As he watched, a breeze swept down the street, blowing her hair into her face, and she brushed her hair off her cheek with one graceful finger.

He had not seen her since their encounter in the hall, when his tongue had gotten the better of  him. How he’d wished he could take back those words the moment they’d left his mouth, but of course that was not within his power. Though he regretted that his honesty had caused her pain, he consoled himself with the thought that it had been for the best. Passion and desire for her had overcome reason. Her kisses may have been freely given, but he had acted disgracefully in accepting them. Had they been caught, honor would have demanded that he offer for her hand, and the expectations of society would have required her to accept. In time, when her ardor had cooled, she would have come to resent being trapped into marriage with a man who was so beneath her, a man whose affection had so offended her, and that resentment would eventually turn to hate.

It was for the best, in the end, that he drove her away. Knowing her distaste for him didn’t stop his body’s reaction to her, however. It never had. She was so beautiful, it took his breath away. The sight of her made him forget himself, and he could have stared at her for hours, for all the world looking like a lovesick fool, were it not for the soft murmur of his name in his ear. Recollecting himself, he drew his attention back to the woman on his arm, silently chiding himself for his incivility when he saw that she had noticed his distraction. Ann Latimer was everything he should desire in a partner. She was young, beautiful, accomplished, and she understood the worth of Milton and its people. Beyond that, his mother had not been subtle in attempting to promote the match, hoping an attachment would grow over time that would put all thoughts of Margaret Hale from his mind.

For the sake of her pleasure, he didn’t tell her that her hopes were in vain. He admired Miss Latimer and enjoyed her company, but not even her soothing presence could drive Margaret from his mind. Or his heart. Miss Latimer's years of schooling in Switzerland had polished her manners and driven away the forthright honesty that was innate to people from the North. Her conversation was always agreeable because of her tendency to profess indifferent agreement with any opinion put forth to her. He did not fault her for this inclination – she only behaved as any proper young lady in Society might do. But when she demurred to his opinion, he missed the spark in Margaret’s eyes that flared with her challenge.

His companion soothed once more by his attention, he lifted his head and glanced in the direction where he had last seen Margaret. Just at that moment, she turned to face him, and their eyes met. A small smile curved the lush bow of her mouth until her gaze drifted to the hand resting daintily on his arm, and then she turned away from him, hiding her face from his view.

Staring at the soft tendrils of hair that curved at the nape of her neck, he nearly wondered if the sight of another woman on his arm had caused her pain. That was not his intent, of course, but he would be lying if he pretended that he didn’t wish he had the same impact on her that she had on him. But no, it had undoubtedly not been jealousy that had flickered across her countenance before she turned away. She would no more be jealous over him than she would ever come to love him. Even now, with her reputation tarnished, she was far above the likes of him.

In a moment, they would draw near to where she was standing, and courtesy would dictate that they acknowledge each other before returning on their way. Miss Latimer's hand tightened slightly on his arm as they drew to a halt, but he could find no fault in her manners as she and Margaret exchanged polite greetings. For his part, John attempted to do the same, but the words felt thick in his throat, and his tone skirted the line of civility. He longed to look into her eyes once more, but her gaze remained lowered until courtesy had been satisfied and they each carried on their way.

Back at the mill, John greeted his mother with a short nod as he entered the room with Miss Latimer still on his arm. She was clearly pleased to see the two of them together, and for her sake, he wished he could tame his unruly heart. Miss Latimer left his side to join Fanny in chatter and idle gossip, and he let the sound of their voices wash over him as he took refuge behind his newspaper. Though he pretended to read, he didn’t process a single word, too preoccupied with thoughts of her. For his mother’s sake, he would try to fall for Miss Latimer's charms, but he suspected it would take far more than gentle manners and a pretty smile to extricate a certain outspoken Southerner from his heart.

“I must apologize, but my father has been temporarily delayed. I’m sure he’ll return home soon, if you would care to wait.” Margaret’s voice was cool and polite, but her gaze remained fixed straight ahead as she broke the news.

“I can return at a later time,” he offered, but she shook her head.

“No, I’m sure that won’t be necessary. I know he was looking forward to your appointment.”

Divesting himself of his hat, coat, and gloves, John offered her a slight nod, acquiescing to her request. He followed her in silence up the stairs and into her father’s sitting room, where they both tried and failed to pretend as though nothing amiss had ever passed between them. She still refused to look at him, even as he found himself unable to look away from her. Finally, when he could take it no longer, he began, “Margaret—"

“Mr Thornton,” she interjected, gently rebuking him for his familiarity. “I apologize that I have not yet offered you any tea. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go—”

“To hell with the tea,” he snapped, his temper momentarily getting the best of him. She had moved to brush past him, heading for the door, but he reached out and captured her wrist in a firm grip. “We need to talk about what happened between us the last time I was here.”

A muscle in her throat flexed as she swallowed. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

He lifted his eyebrows at her in feigned surprise. “First I kissed you, then you kissed me, and you don’t think we need to talk about it?” When she just shook her head, his anger grew. “Why did you come to me that night, Margaret? Was it to see if my passion for you was truly dead? Or had you been abandoned by your other lover and were in search of a new protector?”

When her head whipped around to face him, he saw her cheeks were flushed and her eyes brightened with anger. “No!” she cried. “I told you that what you saw…it wasn’t what you think! I have no other lover!”

Stepping toward her, he demanded once more, “Then why did you come?”

“I don’t know!” she cried in return. “Because I was angry that you didn’t believe in me! Because I wanted you to understand! Because—” her voice suddenly faltering, she admitted in an undertone, “because I’m drawn to you. I cannot explain it, and I have tried to fight it. But it is no use.”

With a twist of her arm, she pulled her wrist out of his grip, but to his surprise, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she lifted her hand to his face, cupping her cheek in his palm. “I’m drawn to you,” she said again. “I cannot stop thinking about you or wishing—”

His heart ached when she trailed off, and he was afraid she could see the love he still carried for her in his eyes as he asked softly, “What do you want from me?”

Her body swayed toward him, and he thought she might draw him down for a kiss. Instead, she dropped her hand to her side and shifted away. “Nothing. I want nothing from you. I should go prepare the tea.”

His heart cracked when she moved toward the doorway, and he called for her before she could leave. At the sound of her name, she hesitated, her back to him, and then turned slowly to face him.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded with her, his voice soft and sad. “Please. Stay.”

Margaret knew what he was asking of her. She could perhaps have claimed ignorance of the danger that lay in store for her, the night she’d journeyed across town to confront him in his office. She might even be able to plead innocence in their previous encounter in the downstairs hallway of her home. But she could claim neither now. Her father was delayed, and Dixon was out on an errand, leaving her and John alone. If she stayed, she knew what it would mean.

Closing her eyes, she recalled her earlier one-sided conversation with Bessie’s memory, and all the reasons that she knew she should turn around and walk away. Certainly for the sake of her reputation, she knew she should leave. But it was as she had said. She was drawn to him. She could no more leave him now than she could fly.

Swallowing heavily, she turned her back on propriety and all of the lessons that had been drilled into her head from the time she was a child and took one step toward him. Two. Her fall from respectability was almost worth it, she realized, when she saw the smile that crossed his face and softened his features.

His eyes were filled with wonder as she stepped up to him, and he stroked the back of one finger down her cheek as though to reassure himself that she was truly there. Then he bowed his head and captured her mouth in a kiss.

John had counseled himself to exercise caution and avoid doing anything rash, but his better intentions fled at the touch of her lips against his. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her off her feet, spinning her toward the nearby table. It was hardly the ideal situation, but he’d dreamed about picking up where they had left off from the moment he’d backed away from her in his office. Now, with her in his arms, his entire world had shrunk to fit into this tiny room, this moment, and the need to feel the warmth of her skin under his hands.

Margaret – bless her – didn’t protest as he perched her on the edge of the table, which rocked dangerously but miraculously held under the unexpected weight. Her legs fell open as he continued to kiss her, skirts bunching when he stepped between her thighs.

Their labored breaths carried through the quiet room, and John longed to tell her about the feelings he still carried in his heart, but he knew it would be foolhardy to do so. She had spoken to him of desire but not of love, and he suspected that reminding her of his unwanted devotion would only succeed in pushing her away.

If he could not tell her of his love, he would show her, he decided as her hands skittered across his chest, pushing the jacket back from his shoulders and down his arms. “Please, John. I want – I want to touch you,” she confessed, making a grab for his cravat. It took a few seconds – and his assistance – but they finally got it untied, and then she tore the length of fabric from around his neck and tossed it aside. The top of his shirt gaped open, and she leaned in, pressing her mouth against the pulse that raced just below the skin.

With a moan of pleasure, John slid his hands under her skirts and caressed her legs. Wrapping his hands around her calves, he lifted them, showing her how to anchor them over his hips. She locked her ankles behind him and clutched onto the fine fabric of his shirt as his fingers slid along her inner thighs. When he stroked her outer folds, teasing her, she gasped, her hands tightening on his shoulders.

Pulling back slightly, he let his eyes sweep over her face as he stroked her, helping her grow accustomed to his touch. For the rest of his life, he wanted to remember this moment and the way that Margaret looked with her eyes wide and bright and her face flushed with desire.

“J-John?” she breathed as he slid one finger inside of her. “I-I don’t – are you sure—”

“Shh,” he whispered, ducking his head to kiss her once more. “It’s all right, love. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

The endearment had fallen from his lips before he’d even realized it had formed in his mouth, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. With his thumb, he located her tiny nub and teased it as he skid a second finger inside of her. His own body was hard and throbbing, but he tried to ignore it as he focused his attention on her pleasure.

This was not the way he had imagined making love to her for the first time. In his fantasies, their lovemaking had been sanctified by God and consecrated in the marital bed. Such dreams were not to be, however, and if he could not love her as his wife, he would at least attempt to give her no cause to regret giving herself over to him.

He felt her legs start to quiver, her hand shaking against the nape of his neck as she crushed her lips to his, and he knew that she was about to find her release. Nipping her lower lip with his teeth, he reveled in the tiny moans coming from deep in her throat every time his fingers thrust inside her. Then her lips parted, her breath caught, and her thighs wrapped around his hips as she became undone.

When she collapsed against him, he stilled but did not pull away. With one hand still inside her, he retrieved the other from beneath her skirts and stroked it soothingly along the curve of her spine until she had gathered her wits.

Finally, she lifted off his chest and tilted her head back to look him in the eye, and he pressed a kiss against her temple. Her face was still flushed with passion, and John closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He could not in good conscience continue to overstep the bounds of propriety, and she deserved better than the treatment she was receiving at his hands. What had he been thinking, to molest her like this, in her father’s own sitting room? He may not be a “proper” gentleman – indeed, like most Northerners, he could rarely been accused of being gentle at all – but neither was he a rutting animal, whatever Margaret might think of him.

Unable to meet her eyes, he dropped his gaze as he gently slid his hand from between her thighs. But before he could step back, out of her embrace, Margaret tightened the grip of her legs around his hips and shook her head. “No,” she breathed before repeating back to him the words he had spoken to her earlier. “Stay here. With me.”

His honor demanded that he ignore her request, but his heart and body commanded him to stay. Hesitating, he attempted to gather his wits, to remind her of the danger they courted, but reason fled in the wake of her next words, softly spoken in sudden shyness. “I want you.”

I want you. They were not the words of love and affection that his soul longed to hear, but they were a balm to his broken heart nonetheless. Whatever else she might think of him, whatever gentle words and inoffensive attentions might have caused her to turn to another lover after rejecting his suit, she was not entirely indifferent to him, after all. “Margaret, love,” he moaned, wrapping his hand behind her neck and drawing her in for a kiss.

She needed no further persuasion, giving herself over to his embrace with a sweetness that soothed his aching heart, wrapping her arms around his neck as she drew him to her. When he turned his head to direct his consideration to the perfect shell of her ear, too long overlooked in his attentions, he heard the words she muttered softly against the fine fabric of his shirt. “Don’t leave me, John. Please.”

Oh, how little she seemed to be aware of it, but he could deny her nothing. He did not know the exact moment that he had given himself over to her completely, but he had long recognized that she had merely to ask, and he would do her bidding. If she asked him for the moon, he would find a way to bring it down from the sky for her or die trying. And so her softly spoken plea broke what shreds of self-restraint remained, and all constraints of reason and honor fled in the wake of her desire.

Inwardly cursing the clothes that acted as barriers between them, preventing him from exploring her body with his hands and his mouth as he so longed to do, John wrapped his hands around her hips, drawing her forward to press himself against her, showing her the evidence of her desire. She gasped, hesitated, but did not draw away, gratifying his arching her body against him in return.

It was wrong. Most improper. But John no longer cared as he reached for the fastening of his trousers until he was finally free of their tight constraints. It took a bit more fumbling to make his way back under her skirts, the yards of fabric bunched between them a not-insignificant deterrent, but her smooth skin guided his fingers back to her soft folds. Drawn in by her warmth, he stroked her until he was assured her body was ready for him, and then he entered her in one strong thrust.

At his sudden invasion, Margaret let out a sharp cry, her body going rigid in his arms, her fingers trembling where they dug into his shoulders. He stilled immediately, the lust that had clouded his thoughts swept away by a singular realization: however her other lover had degraded her, he had not acted as dishonorably as John had just done. She had been an innocent, and he had just taken her maidenhead.

Closing his eyes, John growled a curse that was far too coarse for her delicate sensibilities and pressed his forehead against the curve of her shoulder as he struggled in vain to catch his breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He told himself he should withdraw, but once her initial shock had faded, she seemed disinclined to push him away. Instead, while he cursed himself for taking advantage of her innocence, she shifted in his arms. His breath escaped him in a tortured hiss as his body responded instantly to the slight, exploratory roll of her hips. “Don’t,” he groaned between gritted teeth. “Remain still. I-I can’t—”

But when had Margaret ever heeded his warnings? She ignored them now, the expression in her eyes dreamy and distant as she rolled her hips again, this time with more confidence. She breathed a word, too softly to be heard, although he thought it might have been, “…curious…”

His efforts to snatch at the threads of his self-control were fruitless. He had longed for her in vain for too long; his body was no longer willing to be bound by the constraints of his reason, and he thrust into her again. She arched against him, meeting the thrust of his hips with one of her own, her thighs falling wider to welcome him.

This was not what she deserved. Not ever, but certainly not for her first experience with physical passion. She deserved tenderness and care. Her Southern sensibilities made her softer than those of the North, and a gentleman worthy of her would have wooed her gently, restraining his darker impulses as he eased her into the act of lovemaking.

But John was not a soft man; he could not even pretend to be so, for her sake. Where he should have asked, he had a tendency to demand. Where he should exercise caution, he exhibited no restraint. His thrusts were strong and powerful as he drove into her, driving forcefully toward his own release until he pressed his mouth against the side of her neck and poured himself into her with a muffled cry.

When he returned to himself, he felt the slight pressure of her hand smoothing down the line of his back in a soothing gesture that might have brought tears to his eyes if such a thing were in his nature. It unmanned him, that she should show him such tenderness when he had shown her none. If anyone deserved compassion and soothing apology, it was her, for the manner in which he had just debased her.

After the slights he had made against her character and reputation, he had made the darkest mark of all. In the aftermath of their reckless coupling, sense finally prevailed, and honor dictated only one course of option, as distasteful to her as it would be.

Drawing away from the comfort of her touch, John angled his body away from her view as he pulled himself to rights, wanting to spare her the shock of seeing his naked form, at least. As he searched for his discarded jacket and cravat, he heard the rustle of fabric behind him as Margaret attempted to smooth the wrinkles in her gown. Once he had returned himself to some semblance of order, he clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face her.

“My apologies for – I think – I know you—” as he had through his proposal, he found himself fumbling with his words, making a mess of things. With a huff of irritation at his own incompetence, he tried again. “With your permission, I will call on your father tomorrow to ask for his consent to take your hand in marriage.”

Her eyes flew to his face. “What? No, surely that is unnecessary!”

He would not let her obvious dismay shake his resolve. “Margaret, you must understand that we have no other recourse.”

Her face flushed with indignation, she stepped away from him. “I recognize that you once again think it your duty to save my reputation, but my opinion on this matter remains unchanged. Unlike you, my father and I have no servants, to whisper about us behind closed doors. Nobody need know about this…this…our situation, so there is no need to rescue me from ridicule—”

“I know that you find me distasteful, but you must be reasonable. What we have done – our situation has changed!”

“Was this always your plan, then? You couldn’t purchase my hand, so you thought you could force me into a marriage of responsibility when you know that is the last thing I want?”

Her words pierced him like a dagger, and he bowed his head. Like a ferocious beast, his temper roared inside his chest, fighting to break free, to answer her contempt and her unjust accusations. For perhaps the first and only time in his life, he did not give way to anger and wounded pride, and he bit back words he would later regret.

“We may not need the gossip of servants for everyone to know what we’ve done. Has it occurred to you that you might—” his voice faltered as he prepared to speak of things even he knew were not discussed in polite company such as hers, “—you might be with child?” Her hand flew to her stomach, and she let out a gasp of dismay. As she angled her body away from view, a terrible silence fell between them.

She would never believe in his innocence – and perhaps she was not entirely wrong in refusing to do so. He was innocent of the charges she had laid at his feet, but he was not without blame. He had not come to her house with the intent to seduce her, and it was shameful how little thought he had given to the consequences of their actions while he held her in his arms. But he had allowed desire to overcome reason. He had taken her innocence. He had made love to her, knowing it unlikely that her feelings for him had changed.

“I am not a…a gentle man,” he conceded softly. “But I hope I may claim to be a good one. There is little enough I can offer you—” given the state of his mill’s finances in the aftermath of the strike, he was not even certain he could offer her security, “—but I can promise you that I will always treat you with honor.” He scowled even as the words left his mouth, knowing that it was his dishonorable actions that had put her in this situation. “You may always depend upon my honesty. My devotion. If it is within my power, I will do everything I can to make you happy. You will have no cause to regret marrying me.”

“No,” she agreed in an undertone. “Except I do not love you. I never have.” Her words did not come as a shock, but they did bring no small measure of pain. “I never will.”

He winced, turning away from her, but he did not leave. Her words at his soul, but his heartache did not eclipse reality. They did not have the luxury of ignoring what had transpired between them. “Margaret—” he began.

“Miss Hale, if you don't mind,” she corrected him firmly, and he swallowed heavily.

“Miss Hale,” he amended with a dour glare, but she seemed disinclined to let him continue.

“I need time,” she blurted, turning toward the window. “To think. I – you cannot expect me to – I need time.”

Bowing his head, he gave in to her request. One day surely couldn’t hurt, and it might be the only measure of kindness he could offer her in this situation. “Very well. I’ll call upon you tomorrow.”

His words received no acknowledgement or reply. With nothing left to say, John turned and fled down the stairs, abandoning his coat, hat, and gloves without a second thought as he escaped into the cold evening air.

“I do not love you. I never have. I never will.” Her words only confirmed what he had already known. She would never care for him the way he felt for her. She would never be his. Even though he was doomed to always – always – be hers.

[lurafita]

Peter/Avengers, dub/con, captivity, Part three

TAGGING PEOPLE DIDN’T WORK! I don’t know why, but everytime I tried tagging someone, tumblr suddenly redirected me to their blog, instead of just writing down the name. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what the issue is. I have got in contact with support and am awaiting their answer, but until then, I hope you were still able to find this part! Again, so sorry!

Read Part 1: here

Read Part 2: here

People, heed the tags for upcoming parts in this story.

kidnapping, dub/con, captivity, chains, bondage, obsessive Avengers, Peter/Everyone, darkly soft Avengers (in the sense that they hold Peter captive, but only want to love and protect him), non-powered Peter, dark-ish Avengers, 18+ Peter, Clint is not married and has no kids, Tony is not in a relationship with Pepper.

(I feel like a cheat for tagging these things, even though I still haven’t gotten to the juicy bits in this fic...)

Part 3

Peter had long since retired, when the others gathered in the common floors living room, to further discuss the bomb the younger man had dropped on them mere hours ago.

Clint was waving his phone around wildly. “Australia is the most poisonous continent in the world! There are frogs that can kill you! Frogs!”

Bruce was frowning deeply. “The climate is drastically different there. Neither his body, nor his immune system will easily adapt. Petey could develop numerous illnesses because of that.”

Sam was likewise shaking his head. “Pumpkin doesn't have the physicality for weeks long hiking in the jungle. He may be good at parkour, but that is still miles away from the terrain that will await him in the underbrush.”

Steve made a sound like a wounded animal. “Don't remind me of that particular hobby of his, please. I still have nightmares from that video he showed us.”

Tony threw back his scotch. “Six months. Possibly longer. Sweetheart shouldn't be away from us for such a long time. Shouldn't be away at all.”

Bucky was pacing, the Winter Soldier clawing at his very being. “There isn't enough Intel. We don't know the people that would be part of his group. Don't know the terrain. Can't predict the conditions. Can't entrust Doll to strangers. Not safe.”

Natasha was stoically silent, though her face was stormy.

Thor looked contemplative. “...Then maybe we shouldn't let him go.”

The others stilled, all looking at the Asgardian.

“Hate to break it to you, L'Oreal, but I already tried bribing the University's board, in order to make them reject Stoddard's little excursion. No dice. Figures Peter would attend the one university in this stupid city that holds academic achievements in a higher regard than funding.”

A snort of pure disgust left the billionaires mouth, as he stood up to refill his glass.

But Thor shook his head. “I'm not saying to not let other people embark on this quest. I'm saying not to let Peter go.”

Steve wrung his hands. “We can't exactly keep him from going...”

Thor raised a challenging eyebrow. “Why not? He is a lovely creature, but he is not blessed with strength and battle prowess like the rest of us are. I imagine it would be quite easy to keep him here.”

The others looked around them uncomfortably.

“It's not that we wouldn't be capable of keeping him here, Thor, so much as that we... shouldn't...do something like this.” Sam awkwardly rubbed his neck.

“... Why shouldn't we?” But this time the question didn't come from Thor, but from Bucky.

Nervously wiping his hands over his thighs, Bruce tried to give reason to his words, while the Hulk was roaring in agreement with the Winter Soldier.

“It's... We can't... Peter isn't a child. Or a pet. … We have no right to just... keep him.”

Natasha spoke for the first time, her voice even.

“Don't we? Haven't we taken him in? Haven't we taken care of him for the last year? Aren't we the ones most responsible for his safety and well being? You just counted off all the dangers awaiting Lastashka if he joins this excursion. It's not safe. And he is ours to protect.”

Tony slowly set down his glass, eyes going back and forth during his inner debate.

“It's not like we would be doing something bad... He needs us. He can barely remember to feed himself.”

Clint gave him a sardonic look for that.

“Yeah, I'm not gonna comment on how very hypocritical that is coming from you. But you are right. Last week he almost fainted, because he wanted to finish his thesis, and didn't sleep for two days straight.”

Tony's head shot up at this.

“What? Why didn't I know about this? Friday? I thought I told you to keep an eye on my Sweetheart's sleeping schedule.”

“Peter asked me not to inform you of this, when I attempted to get him to sleep. He said it wouldn’t be a regular occurrence, and that after he finished with his work, he wouldn't have to neglect his rest so severely again. Since you yourself have abstained from sleep on far more occasions, I promised Peter discretion on the matter.”

Dammit!

Clint simply pointed to him.

“See? Hypocrite. But this just helps to prove the fact that Pete isn't very good at taking care of himself. And we can't leave him to a bunch of nerdy strangers. Nat is right. He is ours to protect.”

Bucky nodded along with this reasoning, as Sam pursed his lips.

“It's not like there is any guarantee that this plant this professor is looking for will really cure the disease, right? It's not worth it for Pumpkin to risk his health, possibly even his life, on a fools errand.”

Bruce couldn't ignore the words of his friends,and the desires of himself and the Hulk, any longer.

“I have been on such fruitless excursions during my time in university. I remember the hopeful anticipation in the beginning. And the crushing devastation when we came back empty handed. I would like to spare Petey such an experience.”

Steve held up his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, guys. You aren't seriously considering,- what? Kidnapping Peter? Keeping him locked up here with us?”

Bucky spoke before anyone else could.

“He would be safe here. We can protect him. Care for him. Love him.”

Natasha nodded.

“We won't hurt him. He won't understand or like it, at first. But he will come around.”

Tony carefully chimed in.

“It will take some time. Patience. Affection. But... since everyone will be thinking he is gonna be in the depths of the Australian underbrush for at least half a year...”

Clint was already a step ahead.

“The Tower is listed as Peter's official address, and Tony and Bruce as the overseers of his internship. It wouldn't be suspicious if one of them called the university the day of the groups departure, to report that Peter can't make it due to sudden injury or illness.”

Sam hopped right on.

“They will want to catch a very early flight, won't they? It's a bit of a trip to another continent. We could throw a little 'Good-bye' party for Pete. Invite his friends and aunt. Tell everyone one of us would drive him to the airport the next morning...”

A thoughtful crease appeared between Bruce's eyebrows.

“The professors usually tell the students and volunteers in their group to leave things like their cellphones at home. There is rarely opportunity to charge the battery, and if you are deep in the jungle, there is no reception anyway. So no one would be expecting to hear from him before the excursion team gets back. By that time,... surely Petey won't want to leave us again.”

Steve took a step forward.

“Okay, stop. Do you realize what you are talking about? We can't do this.”

“Don't you love him?” Thor's usually booming voice was quite, almost a whisper.

Steve nodded. “Of course I do. But-”

“Don't you wish to protect him? To know that he is safe?” Sam added.

“I do. But that doesn't mean-”

“Haven't things been so much better since he came to live with us? We have all been more careful during missions, taking less risks, causing less damage, because we know Peter is here, waiting for us to come back.” Clint threw in.

“I-”

“Peter was underweight when he started living here, you know? He got some acid on his shirt, and had to change out of it. I could count his ribs back then. His clothes don't look like they are his two heads taller brother’s hand-me-downs any longer, because we have made sure that he eats regularly. Do you think anyone else will do that for him in Australia?” Bruce asked.

“They.. no, they probably wouldn't..”

“You have been drawing more, since Peter found some of your older sketches. It has helped you relax. Been a way for you to deal with the things we have been through. I know half of your sketchbook is full of drawings of him. Do you really think you can go back to before? Capture other motifs on paper? Be without your muse for six whole months, and possibly longer?” Bucky implored.

“I didn't think of that.... I... I couldn't...”

“When I was a child, I have never been allowed to want something. We were weapons, there was no room for wishes. I have gotten to experience friendship and trust since then, and maybe it is selfish to ask for more. But I want more, Steve. I want Peter. I want him to be here with us, not somewhere in some jungle that might take him from us. My trainers kept me from wanting then, will this world's ideal of morality still keep me from wanting now?” She looked at him with eyes fuller of emotion than they had ever been.

“Natasha, I... no, of course you are allowed to want-”

“I don't care if I'm being selfish. We are heroes, Steve. Earth's mightiest defenders, isn't that what they call us? We go out there and fight everyone's enemies. People are safe because of us. But I will tell you right now, the only reason I have been able to sleep through a whole night recently, is Peter. I have seen so much shit in my life, Steve. Before the Avengers were ever formed, and then even more after we got this little superhero boy-band together. I used to tinker in my lab for days on end, because I knew that at one point my body would shut down on its own, and I would get the sleep I needed, with only the minimum of all the delightful nightmares my ptsd ridden brain could come up with. But ever since Peter has been here, it's better. I go to bed thinking about the way his eyes light up, whenever I show him a new upgrade for a current project, instead of the wide open eyes of the dead child we were too late to safe. I'm able to sleep dreaming about the noises he would make, if I bit the nape of his neck just so, instead of recalling flying a nuke through a portal and falling to what was supposed to be my death. Don't try to tell me you haven't had similar experiences with him. Don't try to lie about this. We deserve to be selfish with the person we love.”

“I, I know, Tony. I'm not saying that I don't understand...” The protest was feeble, weak. Steve was already more than halfway convinced.

“In Asgard, Peter would be called a 'Melmir'. A gift. Something to be kept to ourselves and safe at all cost.” Thor had stood, stepping closer to his friend.

“Peter isn't a thing.”

“I did not mean to imply such. A treasure needs not be an object to be called precious. Peter is precious, is he not?”

Steve looked determinedly into the eyes of his taller friend.

“He is.”

Then the super soldier looked at his teammates around him. His friends. And he saw his own feelings reflected in their eyes.

“And he is ours.”

______________________________________________________________

Read Part 4: here

Yeah, so this part was supposed to dive right into the chains and captivity and other stuff that I promised, but then I got caught up in the dialouge and, well....

I do hope you still liked it though. I will try to be faster with the next part.

[thesalemsaga]

𝟲 — 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘆

—   𝙨𝙞𝙭𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 6.4k words

𝙨 : they’ve left the walls, and now it seems like they’re unstoppable. however, having to make a short stop, they soon uncover the savagery that has taken hold of the world, putting their training to the test.

“ doesn’t your eye-sight hurt? ”.

alexander peered up once seren’s voice caught his ears.

she had been sitting at his side for a good hour, glancing over his shoulder whilst his index finger trailed beneath the lines consisting of runes and symbols that she had never dreamt of seeing before. for the first time she took knowledge over how his fingers were tainted with ink, red from hours of writing, pouring every last pint of energy he had into his studies.

seren had seen copious books thrown in front of her when exam season hit the calendar, but nothing could compare to what this boy probably had to sit through to be a qualified cleric. she took to admire alexander for how he persevered, it didn’t seem like it was labor for him, he must enjoy it to some degree. even now, when he could be talking to the others, growing closer to them, strengthening bonds, he continues reading as if to never give himself a break from the school they probably wouldn’t see for a while.

yet, the more she thought about it, the clearer it became. maybe it was for the very reason that they would not face their school for some months that he clung to the only thing that might bring a sense of normalcy. school is hell, albeit the only thing they’ve ever known within the walls. it kept them grounded, centered on something. even seren, an avid daydreamer, allowed herself to be consumed by her studies and let it became the center of her life.

now she realizes that she has to distance herself from the only life she’s ever known and replace it for one she could not control, where the laws didn’t bend at her will, because nature kneels to no one. 

alexander was wise, though, to keep something to occupy his mind. who knows how long it’ll be before they start to lose their ways and begin to cave into the reality of the world outside?

“ m-my father got me these at the start of the year after . . . some glasses that made my eye-sight worse. these ones have steadily improved it, though ”, he replied after a moment, immediately drawing his attention once more to the book he grasped within his hands.

seren hummed, swinging her feet slightly. “ is your hair also always like that? ”, she questioned. she found herself in a very questioning mood that day, maybe it was an attempt to distract herself from the utter boredom she might face during this flight to egypt.

“ like what? ”.

“ that bowel-shape cut. ”

his face suddenly incredibly pink, red rising to the tip of his ears. seren’s eyes widened for a moment with slight realization, “ w-well, you get what i mean. always the same style, quite conservative. do you ever switch it up? ”.

“ how? i find it unnecessary. and a waste of time, if you ask me. ”

chuckling, the girl rested her back against her seat and ran her fingers through her own hair, “ not exactly. i find that boys switch up their hairstyles more than girls on some occasions. have you seen percy? one day he has a perm, the next he’s wearing a beret. ” it was super cute.

alexander appeared timid all of a sudden. “ well i’m not percy, seren. i find that i quite like my look. sure, the glasses can be fussy and the hair is hard to cope with in the morning, but it’s my signature look. like your hair bow ”.

seren defensively grasped her ointment, “ i have my bow but i still style my hair differently on occasions. i customize it, explore my way of dressing. it’s actually a great way to learn to appreciate your looks, looking at yourself in different ways. ”

alexander seemed unwilling to counter, attention on the book once more. taking a deep inhale, the girl smiled and reached over. he had a signature look himself, that face. his entire face was a signature because his features were so firm and bold and beautiful, it would still be him even if he chose to wear something different or styled his hair.

she found herself removing his glasses, ignoring the fuss he appeared ready to put on, and messed up his hair, bringing the locks hiding his forehead and pushing them back. thankfully, they fell right into place. capturing a glance at him, seren felt like she was looking at a different person, she smiled to herself, content with the transformation that had occurred under her doing.

“ w-what? ”.

seren shook her head slightly, “ you look good. you look even better, actually. people never realize how beautiful they are when others are looking at them. you still look like you, in case you’re wondering. but just without the glasses. stop squinting~ ”.

“ s-sorry ”, letting out a small laugh, alexander raked a hand through his locks and seren was barely able to contain her excitement, he seemed to be liking it! “ i just really can’t see without my glasses. contact lenses are hard to wear, as well, i tear up and people think i’m constantly upset. ”

seren peered at the frames in her hands and hummed, “ can’t you enchant yourself to fix your own eye sight? or are long-term conditions out of question? i hear only a witch doctor can do that. ”

“ percy could. he’s a mage. the magic i access is limited only to healing and enchanting things that might bring people at death’s door. a stab wound, i can deal with. a cancer or a chronic illness, i’m afraid i can’t deal with that. believe me, i’ve tried ”, he countered, flipping aimlessly through his pages. seren’s eyes suddenly frowned. “ i would ask percy but . . . it’s too much to ask. it would demand a crazy amount of mana. ”

seren held her breath.

she’d witnessed it herself, the moment percy went pale the night before and for just a split second, it felt like he went totally limp before managing to catch himself. mana was the fuel source for anyone dealing with magic, and if you drain it, it eats your energy away in chunks if you use your magic excessively and recklessly.

alexander pushed on, “ besides, he could end up panicking and blinding me for life. i know he feels slightly reluctant when dealing with his magic. he hesitates all the time in magical art lessons. it’s like he’s scared of what he’s capable of. ”

“ well isn’t everyone? having that much power should scare anyone ”, seren shook her head, staring at her feet. “ magic is serious business, that’s why i felt lucky to not have inherited it. because as a swordsman, i have control of who my target is. as a mage, i might end up burning a whole village to kill just one man. ”

the aircraft suddenly shifted, and the girl caught herself in case she went overboard. it wasn’t turbulence, it seemed like they were going to start to make a descent into the territory they’d dreamed of stepping into. she stood up, clinging to the security railings on the roof and walls. “ what’s happening? ”, she called.

perseus peeked his head out of the cabin door with his cheeky, boxy grin. “ we’re about to land! ”, he replied over the sound of the engine roaring, but as they neared their descent, all that she could hear was the whistle of the wind. beyond the windows, she saw red. well, red soil.

the landscape in which they’d landed resembled a savanna region which you wouldn’t have expected to find in egypt a long time ago. the dirt paths were overtaken by spreading grass, tall acacia trees scattered around but not close enough to resemble a full forest. no animals in sight, as expected. and if there were, they probably fled when they heard the aircraft landing.

landing in a desolate terrain that a human being has probably not stepped into yet was a thrilling idea, albeit terrifying. because if there weren’t humans roaming then there had to be something else, lurking, aware that something strange and out of their world had just touched down on their soil.

it felt forbidden, like they shouldn’t be here.

“ are we in the sinai peninsula? ”, seren quizzed.

at the shake of kailen’s head, she was growing confused. “ i made an emergency landing because i need to figure this compass out. if i try to do it on hair it’s just going to waste fuel. we might as well pause here until i get this thing working. ”

“ well, what do we do in the meantime? ”.

“ explore for a bit, i suppose. ”

romeo was the first one out once the hatchet opened. seren stepped out and landed on the grass with her two feet. the sensation was albeit the same but knowing that they were no longer caged within stone walls and now roamed the wild, it was no wonder her heart felt heavier, blood pumping with excitement.

what she did notice was how unbearably hot it was, the sun smiling down at them, toasting the girl beneath her dense military clothes. they only weighed her down, and if she was going to traverse through desserts and dry lands, there was no point wearing it.

after ripping her jacket off, she felt a massive improvement, loosening one button of her white shirt and slipping her gloves off. “ s-seren, what are you doing? ”, she heard perseus stammer behind her. she blinked at him cluelessly.

“ i’m burning hot. besides, these things are only going to slow us down. we’re not representing valhalla out here, we’re by ourselves. ”

pacing forward, she began to investigate her surroundings with a little more liberty. time was of the essence, but they were not expecting to reach salem within a week, that was very unlikely. so whilst tying her hair back with her ribbon, she took to admiring the trees, the landscape, the mountains in the distance.

“ from what i heard ”, alexander began suddenly, crouching down to take a sip of his water. “ the peninsula became densely populated with trees. it used to be more of a dessert, mountain range. now it’s practically a rain forest. most of the middle east is a rain forest. ”

which would mean that there would be less dessert to traverse, which the girl was thankful for. she’d heard rumors that during the apocalypse period, the world underwent a series of freezes that meant temperatures drastically cooled down and even countries that used to be in the line of the equator became sudden areas stained with trees and wildlife. egypt was one of them.

and with cooler temperatures, trees and humidity, the wildlife can be, well, wild. the girl realized that after spotting something on the dry dirt just after a patch of grass. something that seemed to resemble footprints, huge ones.

whoever they belonged to, the creature had hands resembling a human being if it wasn’t so thin and so lanky, and she was certain she had just come across claw marks embedded into one of the nearby acacias. crouching, the girl ran her fingertips over the prints and hummed.

“ you okay? ”, romeo asked.

she motioned him over and pointed to the foot prints, measuring at least at three metres in length. “ what kind of animal would you find in the middle of these plains who could have such a claw? ”, she questioned. 

“ dragons, or some sort of lizard-resembling creature ”, the gunner replied, grazing his fingers over the marked dirt. “ these aren’t new footprints, though, they have most likely been here for at least three or four days. they’ve not faded yet because of the lack of wind. ”

seren frowned, looking off at the set of mountains in the distance. casting her memory back to when she met alexander in the library, she had pulled out a book on the creature at hand. it spoke of the domains dragons took to, and long mountain ranges were some of them.

hopefully we’ll be out of here before such dragon can spot us, she prayed.

“ hey, i think i found a lake or pond! ”.

they immediately stood and walked on over to where evangelos stood and pointed. there was certainly a body of water, a stream of some sort that most definitely belonged to a greater source, perhaps something verging off of the nile river. “ it’s pretty cool, i’d suggest maybe getting clean water or cooling down before we head back ”, perseus called.

seren did just that, crouching over the edge and taking the water in her hands, holding it to her nose. no funny odor, and based off of how evangelos was drinking, it had no funny taste either. and it wasn’t pristine, yet she could at least see the bottom of the pond. 

she refilled her water bottle and set it to be cooled, and then splashed her face a couple of times and instantly felt better, headache simmering down with each passing second until it stopped. “ you’d never would have thought the world would be peaceful like this after stepping outside ”, romeo began, grinning to himself. 

“ this won’t account for the rest of the world. for all we know, the rest could be filled with monsters of all sorts trying to kill us. but it’s nice that there’s a safe haven here, minus the dragon footprints ”, evangelos ran a hand through his now damp hair. “ i asked kailen. we’re apparently very close to cairo. we might even be able to see the pyramids if we fly low enough. ”

“ seriously? ”, seren gasped and beamed. “ that’d be so great! but . . . we’d be best off staying on higher ground to avoid being spotted or alarming anyone we don’t want knowing we’re here. ”

it was unknown just how for salem’s hand stretched. eastern europe was occupied completely by her henchmen and it was why they advanced so easily down into the balkan countries. the empire military was being forced back into greece as their defenses fell, their greatest fear being that salem would find crete soon enough, and the last set of human beings would be crushed under her wrath. 

earth would have to start again, smaller, weaker, with no means of fixing what they had since it was going to be stripped from them anyway. seren’s blood boiled, it came to a point where she was done questioning the morale of a person like salem, of why people go to these lengths to pursue things for their own benefit. evil people just exist, they don’t need a reason.

she would be damned if she let the woman get close to her home. having been spotted in russia already probably had her hiding out in fear, but fear brings panic, and in the midst of panic, she might do something catastrophic and seren promised her father the woman would be dead before such thing could happen.

“ do you think . . . there are human beings outside of the walls? ”.

seren turned to perseus and rose a brow, “ separate populations? ”.

the boy nodded. “ yeah. people who weren’t given a chance of treading into the walls like everyone else, people who isolated themselves. people who saw the wild as their home and never thought to abandon it. different languages, a different culture. i think it’d be nice if we came across something like that ”, he suddenly chuckled. “ though, let’s hope they’re not aggressive. ”

“ for all we know, they could also believe they’re the last people on earth. we’d surely give them quite a scare, being armed to the brim ”, evangelos stated, tilting his head. “ human beings can be sympathetic despite their differences. i don’t think we’re going to get killed at the hands of people like that, though. that’d be a waste. ”

it was never said whether there were humans beyond the walls. seren knew the government worked hard to expand the walls at the same pace that the population grew, allowing people to situate their homes in zones they deemed ‘safe.’ never was it said that they made contact with other people, and if they did, they kept it as a very, very good secret.

they suddenly jumped at an echoing sound and threw their gazes over their shoulders to find kailen at the open hatchet, waving them over with a grin. “ i’ve fixed it! ”.

romeo grumbled, “ about time. ”

once inside the ship, seren found alexander tapping away at some control buttons on the board, the compass glowing green and seemingly working pretty well. kailen had pulled out a map of the old world, and he prayed that the land structure hadn’t changed exactly.

“ it seems like we’re going in a more north east direction. as soon as we get into sinai, we’ll start treading through the middle east, and even more east just to avoid the baltics. from what i heard, salem doesn’t have much control over china and mongolia. so we have to enter through there ”, kailen spoke whilst running a red pen, tracing through path and drawing what seemed to be a border around the baltics. it was a good tactic, avoiding where the enemy’s front line was. he looked back at seren who stood just behind him. “ what do you think? ”.

the girl shook her head, “ it’s perfect. what we have to be mindful of is not disturbing any of her minions in the area, but we can worry about that later. how much fuel are we on? ”.

kailen winced, lowering his head. “ three hours, at least. t-though, i hear there is a place where we might find some . . . ”.

time skip . . .

the flight wasn’t too long, but it was long enough for the girl to catch another nap. the seats were incredibly uncomfortable, the components of the seat belt digging into her torso and waking her up when the airship would shift at times. the feeling only relieved when she had an idea.

evangelos had been sitting beside her quietly, doing what appeared to be doodling on his phone. valhalla students were given school phones that aimed mostly at giving them a better experience in their classes, and they had longer lasting batteries, which is why evangelos seemingly whipped it out. some adjustments made by alexander meant that the school could not trace them.

the seat beside the male was free, and the seat belt component was lowered which meant that what she had in mind could work, it was just a matter of whether evangelos would be comfortable. seren bit her lip and sat down beside him regardless, he lifted his gaze and glanced at her. “ what’s up? ”.

she didn’t say a word, resting her head against his shoulder and finding herself feeling way more comfortable as opposed to before, smiling softly to herself. evangelos merely held his breath, but made no attempt at moving or pushing her away. you’d think she would be more cautious around him of all people.

in reality, she would have felt awful for avoiding him because of that dueling incident. her arms were still recovering, albeit slowly. and the burn marks became heavily obvious in the daylight, hence her attempts at hiding them as best as she could. 

and she probably to avoid making evangelos feel bad.

“ comfortable? ”.

the girl nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips slightly. she was bothered by the marks she saw on the dirt road despite romeo’s reassurance. in all honesty, she was far more concerned with the idea of there being a dragon roaming the heavens than getting to salem.

kailen had stated there was a nearby bay area on the coast of northern sinai where human dealings had stained. some sort of power plant from a long time ago had exploded, leading to the area becoming unstable and too toxic to support human life. after many, many years, it looked as if the toxicity levels were low enough for the fuel to be deemed safe enough to power the airship’s engine.

what didn’t bide well with the girl was the lack of a hostile presence ever since their journey began. they had not encountered one enemy aside from clues pointing to a dragon terrorizing the nearby area, but to come face to face with an abnormal creature was still on their to-do list. it was silent, peaceful, nothing she was complaining about but it drained the thrill from the situation and made it feel as if they were sneaking out to a party rather than, you know, saving the world.

that would only mean that whatever they encountered soon was going to shake her to her core. hence why apprehension to easing down and resting too much, but she found evangelos’s shoulder to be comfortable. his presence radiated that of protection aside from intimidation. and he was warm.

seriously warm.

“ did it hurt? ”.

“ hm? ”.

his fingers grazed gently over the surface of her arms. his touch was delicate, not an ounce of mal intention with it. it was perhaps the most docile thing she had seen from evangelos from the moment she met him. her thoughts drifted once more to the duel, to the internal shock she experienced after that impact, the agony that came from the burns, the way her bones rattled in fear when she realized her weakness.

“ well, of course it hurt. but does it still hurt? ”, he sounded concerned, and a part of her ached on his behalf. to have everyone glance at you as if you’re some sort of monster when your anger builds and you act upon it must be something nobody wants to necessarily deal with. she hurt for him. and she didn’t see a reason for holding a grudge against an injury that will heal. sure, the marks will always be there. but they will never be a reminder that evangelos was a violent person. ever.

seren glanced at his hand and chuckled, patting it gently. “ it did. but what hurts me most is that you’re still hanging on. it’s healing, as most injuries do. i just want you not to worry about it when there are other things we have to heal ”, she said.

and that was not her attempt at shutting down the conversation, it was simply a way to reassure evangelos in case his thoughts were scrambled, in case he somehow considered himself as the monster people painted him as.

“ like . . . the wounds of people who might have been denied a home within the walls. the wounds of people who never got a chance to be saved. if they’re out there, then we have to help them heal. isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do? ”.

evangelos started, “ y-yeah, but . . . ”.

“ my wounds will heal. memories stay but it’s how you remember them that counts. i don’t remember it as an attack. i remember it as a mistake. and we all learn from them. ”

it was clear she wanted to say more to nurse the situation, to put his mind at rest but she was cut off when the engine began to roar a little louder. upon listening out, it became apparent it was not the engine. but rather, waves crashing against each other. an ocean. a beach.

when the ship landed and the hatchet opened once again, seren felt a chill crawl down her spine when the pristine blue sky she had seen previously turned bleak, grey. lifeless. something you’d expect to see on a cold island in northern europe, not in a tropical region blessed with greenery and life.

upon stepping out, it felt like entering another planet.

craters of sharp rocks and dips made the landscape, the waves thrashing roughly against the shores. it was violent, turbulent, as if a storm slowly crept above them. it was a phantom menace, one that would bare its fangs and strike the rocks with pummeling strength. it took her a couple of steps back suddenly to avoid getting hit by a wave. when her back hit kailen’s chest, she let out a minor squeak.

but he applied a firm hand to her shoulder and nodded to the others, “ alright, there has got to be an oil source nearby. the toxicity will not kill you since it’s harmless at this point. but still be careful. fill the tanks as best as you can. if there’s any sign of movement, don’t wait. just act. ”

the tanks he mentioned weren’t large but it was enough for each member to carry one individually. kailen had suggested that he stayed in the ship whilst they went off to get the oil before quickly returning.

but seren was apprehensive to leave him alone. “ are you sure you don’t want someone to stay behind? ”, she quizzed as they prepared to leave. “ you know we can’t exactly communicate without alerting the academy of where we are, what if something happens to you? ”.

kailen gave her his usual comforting smile, one which causes every suspicion or worry to practically vanish. but it didn’t work this time around on seren. “ i’ll be okay. you just hurry back. it’d be nice to get going before night fall. ”

there was no use convincing him, of course.

seren hurried just like everyone else. it was in their best interest to hurry in order to avoid enemies, but her worry remained grounded on kailen who had stayed in the ship. and although he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he might not be able to resist a mob of enemies, in whatever form they manifest themselves in. dragons, goblins, maybe even the very henchmen from last night.

“ kailen can handle himself, seren ”, romeo briskly reminded her with a quick pat on the back before hurrying her along. “ he’s an archer, sure. but his semblance won’t fail him in an attack if he gets swarmed. trust me, he will be okay. ”

seren chuckled, “ it’s a habit of mine to worry. i was even concerned when he was with alex fixing the compass. i suppose i feel anxious when we’re not in a group, if you can understand that. ”

romeo hummed, and swung the tank in his arm in a childish fashion that incited a grin from the girl. even if they were escaping mortal danger and running towards the enemy, he still acted as if it was a walk in the park. “ i don’t. but i reckon it’s due to the fact that i know their skills. and i know how strong they are individually. don’t worry, you’ll only exhaust yourself if you keep panicking during the journey. ”

to a great extent, she agreed. but this was also a habit that she has had from a young age, like her habit of taking the blame when it wasn’t hers to claim. unhealthy habits, as one might call it. it was going to take her a lot more time to grow distant from that constant worry. it wasn’t as if she was doubting their skills, they were in higher ranks than her and had stellar combat performances. yet . . .

a whistle from alexander caused her attention to shift. it seemed as if he had found something worth checking, so they hurried over.

what they stumbled across was a bunch of iron barrels with some sort of symbol on them. not the danger symbol, not the flammability symbol, but something else, a mark of manufacture. it was long faded, something that belonged to the old world yet it still sent shivers down her spine. part of the past stood in front of them.

perhaps the most bizarre detail to the scene were the skulls.

skulls.

ribs, skulls, arms and feet. as if a graveyard had surfaced from the soil, the barrels might have been a metaphor for a gold mine but the apparent human remains was what stunned seren the most. and even as the boys moved to fill the tanks, she remained with her feet nailed to the ground, her concern growing tenfold.

there was no use asking for what they believed happened here when it was somewhat clear. it had been a previous power plant, as kailen stated, and after an accident, nobody ever came to look at what remained of the location. craters of oil remained, yet what appeared to be the bodies of the workers also stayed. it was a disturbing sight of which she thought she’d only see in movies.

her steps brought her beside perseus who was studying one of the skulls closely, gloves slipped on and eyes narrowing in thought. “ notice how there is what appears to be bite or scratch marks near the top. that wouldn’t happen if it was a power plant accident, except if they were making monsters instead of oil, which i doubt ”, he stated, looking up at her. “ what do you think? ”.

seren brought her eyes towards the ocean, angry, thrashing, crashing, battling for what seemed to be a victim to pull into its grasps and yank it back into unknown depths.

“ i believe . . . it could have been a monster of some sort. maybe some animals that moved to the area and thought it would be nice to feast on the remains but the toxicity should have killed them and there are no animal bones . . . ”, she spoke, looking around. “ my bet is that it’s a monster. ”

evangelos suddenly grunted as he filled up the tank and screwed the lid shut. “ if there were monsters, they might have showed up by now. those marks look new, if we had the equipment we might have been able to locate the origin. but if it’s monsters, i suggest we hurry up ”.

but what kind of monster would attempt to dig their fangs into a human skull and then leave it aside. it would be normal if the flesh of the bodies had rotted and joined the soil beneath their feet, yet seren was uneasy. it felt too good to be true that this bay, dark and grey, was radio silent aside from the waves crashing ahead of them.

it was a horrible sensation, ignoring that worry gnawing at the back of her mind and then proceeding to fill up her tank with as much fuel as it could carry. she strained to lift it from the ground after screwing the cap shut but she heaved it up and sighed, following romeo who offered the way back to the ship.

with fuel in hand, they will be able to travel a longer distance before sundown and probably find themselves within the rain forest quickly. it would mean that they will be exposed to new danger but it would keep them hidden from any eyes from above trying to track them down.

“ where’s the ship? ”.

huh?

surely enough, when seren glanced up from the ground, her hand suddenly trembled and the tank met the floor within seconds as the ship had vanished. gone, as if it had never been there to begin with.

her first reaction was to believe that kailen might have left them. but if it had been the case, they would have heard the airship taking off and would have come running back long before their current return.

when they heard kailen’s scream, though, they all acted.

romeo suddenly bolted towards the edge of the rocks where he soon spotted the airship being dragged down the rocks, constantly being engulfed by violent waves that they couldn’t stick too close to. what was dragging the ship into the ocean?

seren’s worst nightmare.

mermaids, in mythology, are often depicted as beautiful creatures. alluring, tropical, ethereal. with perfect teeth and hair and stunning voices that will drive a sailor mad, inviting you in with docile smiles and large, curious eyes.

the mermaids that were dragging the ship into the ocean were far from it.

they were scathing around like wild animals, screeching and screaming loudly. there were dozens of them, seren was driven dizzy by the waving tails and the blunt force they used to drag the ship, pushing and pulling and screaming repeatedly and it felt like her ears were going to start bleeding soon, yet she gasped and reached for iron thorn the moment romeo fired a shot from his weapon.

“ kailen’s there! don’t let them get away! ”.

the ship was probably long gone, half submerged under water with kailen in the hatchet, motionless. seren’s food rose to her stomach in heaps yet she managed to fire some essences of ice from her blade, and it reached at least five mermaids, enveloping their tails and pulling them down into the rocks, keeping them from grasping at kailen.

but that still left at least twenty of them that evangelos and perseus were trying their best to blow away with the shots they could fire. evangelos was re-loading consistently, looking fed up by the second and perseus struggled on remaining on his feet. “ kailen! kailen, come on, man! kailen! ”, alexander yelled over the edge, flinching back when a mermaid jumped from a wave and tried to claw at his face. it was only then when seren realized that their nails were razor sharp.

with each stroke of ice and fire, the mermaids seemed to scream their way into the waves but when they began to drag kailen, alexander finally jumped into action and motioned with his hands. when the faint glow swarmed kailen’s body, the mermaid pulling him down shrieked and clawed at him. when alexander began to lift kailen’s body, seren was hopeful he would make it all the way.

when a mermaid jumped and suddenly grasped his ankle, romeo ran to keep the male on the rocks but kailen’s body began to fall back into the waves and seren did the only thing she could. and threw her sword that then pinned the fabric of kailen’s cape against the rocks. and then bolted, running the curve and launching her body over the edge and grabbing him roughly.

and soon, with the little strength she had, heaved him up, caring not for her sword that was probably going to fall into the waves.

“ perseus! ”.

seren busied herself with removing the tight jacket kailen wore as well as the chest coat and yet he made no attempt in breathing or moving. her blood began to run cold and when she began to apply her weight onto his chest, compressing a dozen times, she didn’t notice the hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

she was crying.

“ kailen? kailen! come on, wake up, wake up! breathe for me, kailen, please, we can’t lose you now! ”.

she grunted and pressed harder at a steady pace, her compression only becoming sloppy when she began to realize it wasn’t working. he wasn’t breathing. he wasn’t breathing! choking back a sob, seren pressed harder and felt someone grasping her shoulder but yanked their hand away and brought herself closer to the unresponsive boy. “ kailen, for fucks’s sake, stay with us! please! ”, she cried.

it was only when seren moved over him, pinched his nose and covered his mouth with hers, followed by two steady inhales, that she felt the boy flinch beneath her and jumped back to see the life rushing back to him.

kailen looked pale, coughing up the sea water that had been trapped within his lungs for some minutes. he was drenched, in some sort of pain, groaning through every cough and when he came to a stop, he panted. looking at the concerned faces looking over him, bringing his attention to seren and then looking around, as if to look for the ship.

“ w-what happened? w-why did i black out? ”, he grunted, moving to sit up but being pushed back down by evangelos who removed his jacket and wrapped it over the other’s shoulders. “ where’s the ship? o-oh god, did i lose the ship? ”.

seren’s lip quivered whilst she wiped the tears from her eyes, grimacing at the thought of having lost a team mate in the midst of something like that. the mermaids came out of nowhere, and through the way they shone their teeth at her, they were not good mermaids, not the ones she wold read about in stories and fairy tales. they were monsters. 

and they had almost killed kailen.

if they hadn’t arrived faster, kailen would have suffered the same fate as the remains of those people they had come across near the iron barrels. he would have been eaten.

“ they dragged the ship into the ocean. there’s no way we’re going to recover it now ”, romeo voiced with a sigh. seren glanced up when perseus gave her iron thorn. her heart sank once more. if she had lost kailen and her weapon . . . she gave the boy the best smile she could manage and nodded in gratitude, looming worriedly over the boy. “ looks like we’re gonna be walking. ”

kailen sighed and met eyes with seren, smiling timidly at her. “ sorry if i scared you. but thank you for acting so quickly ”, he managed through another cough.

“ y-yeah, it’s no worries ”, seren said and smiled back at him.

but they had a lot to worry about. the day had seemingly grown darker. they had faced possible carnivorous mermaids and they had also lost their ship.

night would fall soon.

they would get hungry.

they lost their direction.

they lost their means of travel.

they were lost. officially.

[bodytoflame-ao3]

61 wlw percabeth, please!

*chefs kiss*

61. hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp

Read on AO3

i spent this year as a ghostand i'm not sure where home is anymore

came out swinging ..//.. the wonder years

Annabeth has her pressed up against the wall in the halls of the Argo II and her brain is going haywire. It’s unlike her, but there’s little to dwell on (that her mind wants to visit). She’s rough, but slow, her hands tangled in Percy’s hair. Her lips move against Percy’s, forceful but full of calculated indolence, and it feels so foreign coming from the girl who feels like home. Of course she loves kissing Annabeth, but these aren’t the kisses she’s used to; Annabeth was lazy, and sweet, and definitely not the type to be carelessly grazing her teeth against Percy’s lower lip.

She’s been like this since they got back. And honestly, who would blame her? Percy couldn’t. She couldn’t even sleep without hearing Annabeth breathing next to her. It wasn’t good sleep, she’d probably gotten less than her recommended 8 hours in the past week combined, but it was better than waking up after 5 measly minutes in a cold sweat and crying out for her. This way, they were together, just like they promised.

Even though Percy knows it’s the unaddressed trauma and desperation talking, the idea of Annabeth pinning her to the wall and kissing her until she forgets her own name consumes her. So, she tries. Tries to forget the pain and focuses instead on the desire inherent in Annabeth’s eyes; remembering what it looks like when she cracks a devious smile and drags her off to a corner. They’ll have to face what happened eventually. But not today.

Annabeth breaks their kiss, catching her ragged breath. Her hands glide down, rolling off Percy’s shoulders and skimming her waist. She steps in even closer, fitting so perfectly in their embrace, bodies pressed together with no space in between. Her wide grey eyes lock with Percy’s, “I’m never leaving you. You’re stuck with me forever.”

Percy doesn’t know how to respond, other than a probably ill-informed I’ll follow you anywhere, so she just says, “I’m here.”

“I love you.” Annabeth buries her head in Percy’s shoulder. She can tell she’s holding back tears. It’s the third time she’s said it this week, but it’s less desperate than before; an affirmation, not a desperate attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy. It gives her hope that things will keep getting better, and maybe Annabeth will be able to kiss her without it being a means to feel numb.

Percy threads her fingers into her tousled curls (she’s finally looking like herself again), holds her close, and whispers, “I love you, Annabeth Chase.” It’s a declaration, and a promise.

Annabeth lets out a light sigh, and captures her lips again, this time, with focus and devotion. It’s more tender, and Percy’s glad. They get a little bit better everyday. She kisses Percy like it’s the only thing she wants — no, knows — how to do. Creating space between them, her hands run across Percy’s stomach and sides over her t-shirt, the kind of needy touch she’s become accustomed to in the past few weeks. Fingers dance around the hem of the orange fabric, slipping just under it.

She wraps her hands around Percy, ghosting over the small of her back. It’s the most surface level contact, barely brushing over the skin. Even so, her touch lights the spot on fire; something Percy hasn’t felt since she first revealed it to her. Percy can’t hold back a sharp gasp, the heat washing over her body. Suddenly overwhelmed by her senses, she jolts upright, breaking the kiss and bracing herself with her hands on Annabeth’s shoulders. It feels like electricity coursing through her veins.

“What’s wrong?”

“You — it…” she struggles, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone explain.

“You forget to breathe, Seaweed Brain?” she chuckles, adjusting her grip and brushing over the spot again.

She’s going to melt. “No, I… your hands. That’s where my—”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth actually laughs at her. As embarrassed as Percy is about her reaction… it’s good to hear that sound again. It’s been a long time. “Does that seriously turn you on?”

The blush rises so intensely she can feel the tips of her ears heat up. Although she hates to admit it to herself… kind of, in a surreal sort of way. Her defensive answer comes a bit too late: “What? No!”

“Oh,” she sees right through it, “it does…”

It's the most normal conversation they've had in weeks. Annabeth’s making lazy circles around the small of her back, eyes locked on Percy's. She can feel her grip on the floor slip a little, struggling to keep her body from melting. It isn't like she's ever been normal, but evidently, she was cursed with a normal teenage brain; she desperately wants Annabeth to keep talking to her like this, to continue trailing her hands up her back just so she can hold her as close as humanly possible. Her rational side, the one that keeps her wits about her in battle, knows better. What she wouldn't give to have things go back to the way they were last summer, when they were seventeen, and figuring it out together. Now, every step she takes with Annabeth is its own battle. The second night back, all Annabeth wanted to do was kiss her for hours. "Well, if we can't sleep…” Percy almost felt wrong, like she was taking advantage of her, even though she knew she was just as broken herself. She hates that even thinking about something more sends her mind into a downward spiral. There’s too many things that are too complicated for them to just be normal, stupid, teenagers. It’s not fair. They’re scarred, and although the physical marks have started to fade as the days turn into weeks, she knows there’s some trauma that’s never going to leave them. But, oh, does she want to fall into bed with her, if only for a moment, to make her forget. To be the ones in control of the bruises peppering their bodies for once.

Percy’s silence is telling. Softness creeps back into Annabeth’s voice. “Is this too much?”

Yes. No. The truth? “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You saw what I can do!”

Annabeth doesn't flinch, doesn't take a step back, doesn't even blink. She simply brings her hands up to Percy's face and says, “You wouldn’t. I know you," like it's the only thing she's ever been sure of. She believes it. Percy doesn't.

“You know I love you.” She does. So much. “But you know as well as I do that we’re not okay right now.”

“I know,” she says, quiet and still. “I just need you to kiss me like we are.” There it is. In her own words, what Percy’s seen in her since they got back.

“We will be. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but…”

“We're going to have to talk about this, aren't we?” Annabeth asks. She shuffles, looking down; anything to avoid the truth.

Percy nods. “Eventually.”

Not today. “For now, can you just kiss me again?”

Percy shakes her head softly and rolls her eyes, lifting her into her arms, causing a squeal from Annabeth. Their lips meet, and Annabeth relaxes, letting her arms drape over Percy's shoulders, and wrapping her legs around her. Struck by an idea, she digs her heel into the spot, practically giggling against Percy's lips as she tenses up.

She's cruel. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” she shrugs, “But I’m going to enjoy it.”

[transcendence-au]

The Manor of Alcor (10/10)

Also on ff.net and AO3

The police and ambulance came an hour later. After intensive questioning, they had to spend the remainder of the day and night at the hospital. Or at least Orrie and Mr. Goodman had to. Dipper (unsurprisingly, Orrie thought to himself with a tiny snort) didn’t have any injuries whatsoever to need a room, and Belle’s were mild enough that the doctors let her leave the same evening after thorough treatment. So it was just him and Mr. Goodman who would have to stay behind. For Orrie it was to heal his broken arm. He’d be continued to be looked after until his parents arrived the next morning. Mr. Goodman, on the other hand, was quite old, so the staff wanted to make certain he was fit enough before discharging him.

Orrie let out a tired sigh, staring at his arm. He was so glad magic technology was becoming more widely used in hospitals; injuries and broken bones could heal nearly twice as fast than they could normally. But the magitech cast had to be worn at all times, and so it was a bit difficult trying to fall asleep with it on and its constant low humming.

He leaned back, trying to get comfortable on the hospital bed. He stared out the window. The moon and stars were remarkably bright tonight; Orrie wondered if Belle and Dipper were looking at them now. He wondered how they were coping. Was this normal for them? Maybe– they did speak a lot about their earlier adventures before. But they had been just as scared as he was confronting the cultists, just as pained and outraged to see innocents die. Orrie choked momentarily thinking about Flynn. He…he never wanted to go through something like that ever again.

A knock on the door disturbed him from his darkening thoughts. “Do you need anything for the night?” the nurse asked with a smile. Orrie shook his head.

“No thank you. I’m good.”

“Alright. Will the cast make it hard for you to get some rest?”

“Um…yeah, actually.” She nodded understandingly, turning to the tablet in her hand.

“This should help. We understand these devices can be quite noisy, so they have built in therapeutic charms to ease with sleeping.” She drew some sort of design on the tablet, which activated the cast into glowing a soft green. Orrie could feel the calming effects immediately. “Better?” “Much.” She bade him goodnight, and Orrie soon after drifted into blissful slumber.

After a morning breakfast and one final check-up, Orrie found himself sitting in the front lobby. He felt self-conscious of the fact he was a boy with a broken arm sitting by himself in a surprisingly busy lobby. Correction: a teenager with a broken arm sitting by himself. Fortunately, most of the people passing were nurses and doctors coming in for their morning shift and not patients in dire need, but he could still feel their curious glances toward him. He kept his eyes averted, staring as best he could out the giant window panel.

The seat cushion sank a bit as someone sat beside him. Orrie looked up. “Mr. Goodman. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” the old man answered, resting his arms in his lap. Orrie felt the edges of his lips twitch, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a genial smile. They sat in silence. “…And you?” Mr. Goodman asked eventually. Orrie jerked, caught off guard since he thought the conversation had stopped.

“Uh, fine. Just…just waiting for my parents.” He leaned back on one arm to make it look like he was totally indifferent about waiting for them, not at all like he was feeling awkward being around the man. Not that Mr. Goodman was a bad person—at least, Orrie was pretty sure about that; Terry had been holding him hostage as well—but…what do you say to the person who just lost his business in a single night? What do you say to the person who, through no ill intent whatsoever, nearly caused you to die and did get several others killed? What do you say to—

“I don’t think Neil ever intended one of his descendants to experience the horrors he had.” Orrie looked up.

“What?”

Mr. Goodman gave him a small, sad smile. “Neil Gogh. My ancestor. I don’t think he ever wanted this to happen.” He stared at his hands. “He realized too late after killing his dear friends what absolute power can do to the mind and soul. It corrupts you, twists you to the point that you might as well be a different person entirely. They were on the verge of capturing one of the most powerful entities in existence and make him bend to their will. In the end he gained no power, lost all his closest allies, and had to go into hiding just to remain free.”

Mr. Goodman exhaled deeply. “I think it was the news report that was the final nail on the coffin for him. To read in full detail the murders of his friends, killed by his own selfish doings. He settled down in a large city miles away. He adopted a new identity. He tried to live the rest of his life as a generous, law-abiding citizen. He used all the powers and knowledge he had to bring happiness instead of heartache to others. He wrote all of this down in his journal, a journal that’s been passed down as a dark heirloom for many generations. I suppose he was trying to atone for his sins.” Orrie let his gaze fall, staring at the floor. He could hear Mr. Goodman’s voice tighten as he continued. “He died believing himself wholly unrepentable. But his newfound desire to help others was passed on to his children, and his children’s children, and all the generations after. I too inherited that desire. So I wanted to reopen the manor to the public. Of course, the murder mystery would be the main draw, but I wished to hold other events and activities to enjoy. Soon the mansion that had housed tragedy and betrayal so long ago became a mansion full of fun and creating happy memories for people of all walks of life. And for years I was living in a dream come true.”

He brought his hands up, gingerly wiping the tears from his eyes before they could fall. “Susie…Ms. Wheatly…was a dear friend of mine. Sue and I met many years ago, and she supported me from the very beginning, back when opening the family home to the public was just an inkling of an idea. It was all her idea to use nursery rhymes as hints, you know. Made all of them herself.” Mr. Goodman sniffled. Before he realized what he was doing, Orrie patted the old man on the shoulder.

“I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.” Mr. Goodman sniffed again.

“It’s okay, Orrie. I accept what has happened. And we’ll recover from it one day.” Orrie didn’t miss his use of the inclusive term. But he couldn’t speak of the matter for long; Orrie’s parents had arrived and hurried quickly to the receptionist’s desk. “Those are your folks?”

“Yes.” He stood. He paused. He looked back. “What about you? Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mr. Goodman said, smiling softly. “My business won’t, though. I’m shutting down the Manor of Alcor once I get home. Too much death has transpired inside it. Maybe I’ll sell it after I remove all the runes lacing it, or perhaps I’ll have it demolished. Maybe I’ll start another attraction elsewhere. Who knows what the future holds.” He stood up himself, patting Orrie gently on the shoulder. “Goodbye Orrie, and be safe. And tell your folks all the expenses were paid for and then some. Half a million some. It’s the least I can do.”

Orrie couldn’t reply right away. “Thank you, Mr. Goodman,” he at last said. “And good luck with everything. Take care.” The old man shook his hand briefly before heading out the front doors. Orrie watched him leave as his parents sprinted over to him and nearly crushed him in their tight, protective embraces.

Orrie stared at the blank plaster that was his bedroom ceiling. He’d been doing that a lot the last two weeks since he returned home from the hospital. Just lie on his bed and stare into space, contemplating. He hadn’t touched his sketchbook in ages. He didn’t want to. Not so much because of what it reminded him of (as if he could ever forget that anyway) but more so because he didn’t wish to upset his parents even further. For them to see their son still interested in the demon who caused all this, albeit inadvertently? They’d probably go into a panic thinking he was possessed or brainwashed or something.

They were being a bit too overprotective, though, he long since realized. Walking with him practically everywhere he went except to school, texting him every thirty minutes whenever he was away to see if he was fine, peeking into his room when they thought he wouldn’t notice. Orrie sighed. He loved his parents. But no matter how often he told them he was alright, they’d just nod their heads as if they understood and put on a fake smile that clearly said they weren’t listening. Perhaps once the cast was finally removed they’d see he was fine and give him his space.

Orrie inhaled then exhaled deeply before rolling onto his side. His eyes settled on the sketchbook resting on his dresser. He looked away, convincing himself that he didn’t need to worry about them. That they were alright. That they probably weren’t even thinking of him as often as he was of them. His gaze returned to the book. Yeah, he hadn’t been very good at lying to himself lately. Why shouldn’t he make sure everything was fine with the Sterlings? They were his friends now. His parents’ worry for him could wait.

Quietly, Orrie slipped off the bed and crept toward his bedroom door. It was very late at night; he could hear his father’s soft snores coming from down the hall. Still, to be safe, he locked his door so no one could intrude. He was sorely underprepared what with this being a last-minute idea, but maybe an exception could be made. And it wouldn’t be for long anyway. Orrie walked over to his sketchbook and tore out a blank page, placing it on the floor. Grabbing a marker, he expertly drew the summoning circle on the paper, referencing his notes multiple times to make certain nothing was amiss. He then went to his backpack and pulled out the sympathy chocolate bar one of his teachers at school gave him after his first day back from the hospital and placed it just outside the circle. Taking a shuddering breath to calm himself, he took out a tiny switchblade and cut thinly across his finger, letting a few bloody drops fall onto the circle.

He whispered the incantation quietly but clearly.

The lights in his room flickered before taking on an unearthly bright blue shade. Smoke unfurled from the center of the circle, expanding rapidly until it took the shape of a certain demon floating cross-legged above it, not even bothering to contain himself within its small circumference. His gaze was initially on the paper, disdain obvious as he leered at the crude method of summoning, lack of candles, and meager offering. But when he looked up and spotted who his summoner was, his contempt shifted quickly into mild disbelief.

“Orrie?” The boy, however, said nothing. Instead, he reactively backed away closer to his door, fear flashing in his eyes at the sight of the deceptively young adult human male. The demon blinked before realizing the problem. “Oh, right. How’s this?” In an instant, Alcor regressed in apparent age, being now the even younger and much more familiar Dipper Sterling…clothes and demonic features notwithstanding. Orrie relaxed a bit.

“Hey there, uh…” He probably should have figured out what to call him before summoning him. “Di…Alcor?”

“Is there anyone who can eavesdrop?” Alcor asked. Orrie shook his head. “Then call me Dipper.”

A small, internal sigh. “Hey Dipper. It’s been a while. I just, um, I just wanted to know how you and Belle were doing.” He played with his fingers nervously. Even if this was his friend, this was still his first time alone with a demon, particularly one known for being unpredictable. Without his sister to keep him in check, what was Dipper really like? Would he find this summons a complete waste of his time?

Dipper paused for a brief second. “That’s it? You just want to know how we’re doing?” He stared deeper at Orrie. “Is that really all?”

The boy shuddered slightly under the intense gaze, but he refused to look away from the golden irises. “Yes. I…” Dare he admit it? “I really do wonder how you’re both doing. Are you okay? Is Belle? She did get hurt even though the doctors let her go that same day. I know you’ve been through danger like that before, but you’re still kids. Well, Belle is, and you’re acting like one. Wait, don’t take that the wrong way! I just—” He took a deep breath. “I was worried about you guys. But since I didn’t hear anything from you I just assumed you were doing well. And had moved on. But I just needed to be sure, and so…” He gestured vaguely to the lame ritual preparations.

Dipper chuckled. “So you decided to summon me just to check up on us?” His eyes seemed to brighten as he looked around the room once more. “You do know it’s not a good idea to summon the most dangerous demon known on a whim, right?” Orrie smiled sheepishly, remembering.

“I’m sorry. I only wanted to make sure, even if you forgot about me.”

“Forgot?” Dipper was quick to question, much to Orrie’s surprise. “Why would we forget about you? You’re our friend, Orrie. At least I thought we were.”

“We are! I mean, we are, right? I want to be. You, me, Belle– I didn’t think everything we’d done would lead to nothing between us. But like I said, when I didn’t hear anything from you I thought you’d gotten over everything. And it’s not like I didn’t try to call you or contact you, but I couldn’t find your numbers or anything.” “Well, we don’t exactly put that information out in the open for just anyone to find,” smirked Dipper. “But I see how you came to this decision. I have no excuse for not being able to contact you; Belle wanted to check up on you right after we came home from the hospital, but I convinced her to give you your space. I figured sooner or later you’d come around to telling us you were fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The days passed, and you never did. I popped in every once in a while to see you myself. But when I saw you actively keeping your distance from your sketchbook, I assumed you wanted nothing more to do with us.”

Orrie’s eyes widened at the admission. “What? No, I was keeping my distance so I wouldn’t worry mom and dad. I didn’t think…oh wow, this has been a huge misunderstanding.” He laughed, careful to keep his volume controlled and not loud enough to wake his parents. He looked at Dipper, smile still plastered on his face. “I’m fine. My arm is healing well; I’ll get the cast off in about a week. And my parents have me going to counseling, which is going alright. I haven’t had nearly as many nightmares since starting at least. And we donated most of the prize money I got to charity; only a small bit we’re keeping for my college savings and the therapy.”

Dipper nodded. “That’s good. Belle and I are doing just fine, and she’ll be excited to hear you’re doing well too. We didn’t need the money either, so we gave it to some family friends of ours. Our lives have pretty much gotten back to normal, or what passes as normal for us. Despite how exciting as our lives can get, this isn’t exactly something that happens every other Tuesday. We really were worried about you.” To hear that from the demon in person made Orrie speechless for a moment.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, looking down. After a brief moment he looked back up, meeting Dipper’s gaze again, a spark of hope in his eyes. “So summer vacation is about to start, and I was wondering, if you and Belle had nothing better to do, we could…hang out? Catch up on things? Solve our own, less dangerous mysteries? Maybe even at Gravity Falls? My parents have kinda been planning a trip there for ages now. And it’d be cool if we had some people who knew the place well enough to give us a tour.” He gave the demon his best winning smile.

Dipper only laughed at the silent plea. “We’ll see. Then again, what better way is there to spend a summer holiday than with friends, right?”