#keeping a secret ch15 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lastbluetardis · 2 years ago

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Sacred New Beginnings (18/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~4900 words

AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 |

It was no hyperbole for James to say that the next six weeks were some of the best of his life. He worked hard to stay in the present, to file the memories he was making with Rose into his brain to be pulled out again at a later date when things got bad (because inevitably things always got bad, didn’t they?) He cataloged every laugh, every smile, every touch, basking in the high of new love.

His relationship with Rose had become the most important thing in his life, and he would protect it fiercely with every bone in his body. The media had caught on to that fact; as a result, more and more articles were coming out, wondering where he was and what he was doing. They ranged from wild speculations that he had been pulled into nefarious schemes, to softer and sweeter (and more accurate) speculations that he was love-sick. The paps still called her his mysterious blonde, which had become a running joke between them, with Rose calling him her mysterious beau.

His fans had also noticed his public absence. In the past, he could often be found wandering London and sampling its pleasures with whomever he happened to be dating at the time. But with his desire to keep Rose away from the cameras, they were sneaking around or hanging out in each others’ homes far away from any hope of discovery. His fans were discussing among themselves about whether he was working on a super secret project, or if he was ill, or if he’d stepped away from music altogether.

While he yearned to soothe their worries, he didn’t want to jeopardize this pseudo-peace he had found with Rose. They obviously couldn’t keep going as they were forever—he would want to take Rose all across the globe with him whenever her schedule allowed for it. He wanted to show her all the places she’d never been to but wanted to go. He wanted her to watch him on tour, wanted to see her face in the crowd beside the family and friends he’d invited to his show. He wanted to bring her along as his plus-one to the formal events and galas he was regularly invited to.

But not yet. Baby steps. He knew they first needed to continue building and strengthening the foundations of their relationship, and unlike all of his previous failed attempts at love, he wanted these first few months to be just theirs and no one else’s.

As November drew to a close, he slowly began to integrate Rose into his private life by introducing her to the people he trusted to keep the secret. His mates were thrilled that he seemed to have found “a good one” (their words), and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than grin like an idiot. Rose really was a good one—the best one.

“She’s good for you, mate,” Ian told him when his friends began to depart from his birthday dinner. “You act more yourself around her.”

“What do you mean, I always act myself,” he protested, frowning.

Barbara, Ian’s fiancée, patted his cheek softly while she kissed his other cheek. “You think you do. But remember, we’ve known you since puberty.”

He grimaced and shooed his two oldest friends out of his house so he could celebrate the remainder of his birthday alone with Rose.

His record label seemed surprised but overall indifferent to Rose. James didn’t know what he expected, really; they’d always made it clear that his personal life was his own to do with as he wished, but the moment he started looking bad for the label, they would put him on a short leash.

Nevertheless, it was a relief for them to be privy to the knowledge that he wanted Rose to remain a secret from the public for as long as possible. They also didn’t mind that his productivity had slowed down. Since the bulk of the work for his next album was complete, it wouldn’t take too much longer to get it produced, polished, and published.

Rose didn’t yet want to introduce him to any of her friends, and he wavered between hurt and guilt, wondering in equal measure if Rose was embarrassed to be dating him or wishing she could have a normal boyfriend she could show off to her mates.

But at the same time, he understood. With too many people in the know, it would be far too easy for word to leak about their relationship, and before they knew it, paparazzi would be battering down their doors to interrogate them. His friends had years of practice (and several awkward or painful missteps along the way) with keeping aspects of his life a secret, while hers didn’t. He would let Rose decide the pace with which they broadcast their relationship to others.

It was like he was living in a dream, and while he existed in a state of euphoria for most of the day, there were times when a lingering doom would settle over him as he wondered when their bubble of joy would pop. It was as though a great storm was approaching, but he couldn’t predict when or where or how it would happen.

He always knew he and Rose were teetering on the edge of discovery. One moment of being in the wrong place at the wrong time beside someone with a camera, and the game was up. One person would be all it took to have his paradise come crashing down around him.

But James never expected that person to come in the form of Jacqueline Tyler.

oOoOo

It has been nine days, eleven hours, and twenty-eight minutes since he last saw Rose, (not that he’s counting), when they snuck into the back of a darkened cinema to watch the Catalysis film together. The theater had been mostly empty, thanks to it being noon on a weekday and the film having been out for a month and a half. Rose’s school was closed for the day due to a water main break that left several city blocks without running water.

When she’d texted him that morning telling him the news, he couldn’t help but want to spend the entire day with her because he would be off that night traveling to a few cities across Asia for more film promotion and some early holiday concerts, mostly to raise money for charities. Everyone was more generous in December, and James wasn’t above being used to draw people in to watch him perform for a half hour.

The trip also served to satisfy his fans that he was, in fact, alive and well. The hashtag #WelcomeBackJames was trending on Twitter for half a day when he made his first stop in Tokyo. His social media was flooded with photos of himself either performing on stage, posing for a photoshoot, or taking selfies with fans. For the first time in a long while, he looked healthy. His eyes shone with joy and his skin had a glow to it that he hadn’t realized was missing.

When he took part of a morning to do a photoshoot for a Japanese magazine, his makeup artists barely had to touch his face like they usually did to soften the sharp gauntness of his cheeks or conceal the dark shadows beneath his eyes. After some of the photos had been released, Rose had sent him one where he was clad in nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans that showed off the jut of his hip bones and teased at the happy trail that disappeared beneath the denim. The photo had been heavily edited to make his skin tanner than it was and to highlight abdominal muscles he definitely didn’t have.

Can I get your ab regimen? “How to get abs of steel in 48 hours” from James Noble, she had texted.

He snorted. “Sorry, it’s a trade secret.”

Hmm. I’ll give you a bj for it? 🍆

His stomach swooped teasingly, and he banished the memories of Rose’s mouth on his cock before they could take root.

“Deal. The trick is being a multi-millionaire with a phenomenal make-up team and photographers who know how to use photoshop. BJ when???”

When you come home 💜

Home. It’s funny that when he thought of home, it wasn’t his house that came to mind. It was her—her smile and her laugh, the warmth of her embrace and the passion in her lips and the tenderness of her touch. And as excited as he was to visit east Asia, he was more excited to return to Rose.

Presently, now that he’s home, he aches to see her again. He returned three days ago, but Rose has been recovering from some respiratory illness her plague-riddled students passed on to her. While he respected her wishes for him to stay away for a few more days, he misses her. Their late-night phone calls were just enough to take the edge off, but he longs to see her in person, to hold her in his arms and kiss her deeply and slowly until they’re both starved for breath.

It’s Friday evening, and James is in the recording studio, snacking on a packet of crisps to tide him over until dinner time and plonking away on the piano, trying to put his finger on what is missing from the latest song he’s recording. Every time he tries to focus on what doesn’t sound right, it slips farther and farther away, like trying to catch wisps of mist with his fingertips.

He groans dramatically and gets up from his piano bench to flop even more dramatically onto his sofa. He shoves the remaining few crisps into his mouth and sullenly chews while replaying the melodies over and over in his head, trying to map slight variations on top of each other to fix whatever is dissatisfying him. But it doesn’t work, and he only succeeds in giving himself a minor headache and a bone-deep frustration.

Fuck it. It’s Friday, and he’s going home.

Unless…

He snags his phone from the table and opens his messaging thread with Rose.

“I know you said to wait until this weekend when you’re feeling better. But it’s practically already the weekend, innit? Can I come over for a bit? Or pick you up and we can go to my house?”

James drums his fingers across his thighs while he waits for her answer. Now that he’s got it in his head that he might be seeing Rose within the hour, he’s impatient to get to her.

His phone vibrates in his palm, and her message sinks his spirits.

Sorry, I can’t. I’m babysitting my little brother for the night. Mum and Dad have Friday date night, and their usual sitter came down with the flu. Tomorrow. I promise xo.

James sighs and rubs his fingers into his eyes.

“It’s fine. I understand. Tomorrow first thing? 🥺”

Oh, that’s so pathetic! Yes, first thing tomorrow. Pick me up at 9?

“On the dot,” he confirms.

He rests his phone beside him on the sofa cushion. Now what? Go home to an empty house and cook up whatever his personal assistant planned for him? Or maybe he can see if any of his friends are up for a night out. His week-long excursion to Asia scratched the itch of wanting to socialize, but he wants more. He’s always been extroverted in nature, loving the energy of a crowded pub or some similar venue, and while he would never regret these quieter, calmer weeks with Rose, he misses the former bustle of his social life.

James pulls open the group chat with his local famous friends, but before he can ask if any of them want to meet him at a pub, he gets a new message from Rose.

I mean… I don’t suppose you’d mind a 4-year-old third-wheeling us if you came ‘round?

A grin steals across his face. “Not in the slightest. Though it does put a damper on my plan to ravish you thoroughly and filthily the moment I see you 😏”

Well, what if I told you Tony will be gone by 9pm? 🍆

“I suppose the ravishing could be postponed ‘til then 🐱👅💦” He sends the text, then a thought occurs to him. “Does this mean you want to introduce me to your family?”

The three dots that indicate Rose is typing pulse across his screen for many long seconds before she answers, Yeah, I think I do. At least preliminarily. We can do a longer introduction later.

He beams at his phone screen. “Perfect. Can’t wait. I’ll come by right now. See you soon! 💜”

James hurriedly packs away the instruments and equipment he’d used that day before bolting out of the building and to his car, praising his lucky stars that he’d chosen today of all days to drive himself to the studio. He would have gone half-mad waiting for his driver to trek to him amidst Friday rush hour traffic. As it is, he goes half-mad inching through the rush hour traffic on his way to Rose’s flat.

Finally though, he arrives, and he battles the climb up to the tenth storey. It’s only when he knocks on her door that he belatedly thinks he should have offered to pick up dinner. No time for it now, not as Rose swings open her front door and ushers him inside.

When the door snicks shut behind him and she fastens the lock, he folds her into his arms and simply holds her for several long seconds, tucking his nose into her hair to breathe her in. She embraces him just as tightly, rocking slowly from side to side.

“I missed you,” she murmurs into his neck. There is still a faint, throaty rasp to her voice leftover from her bout of illness, and if he’s being perfectly honest, there is something incredibly sexy about it.

“And I you.”

He pulls back only far enough to cradle her jaw in his palm and angle her face up for a sweet kiss that he works to keep chaste. She melts into him, bracing her hands on his shoulders to kiss him back, matching his pace. Heat unfurls through him, gentle yet delicious. Before his desire can overtake him, he pops their mouths apart to rest his forehead to hers.

She nudges the tip of her nose into his before backing up a step. “C’mon. Tony’s in the kitchen havin’ some hotdogs and cheesy potatoes.”

Rose takes him by the hand and guides him to her kitchen table, where a small blond-haired boy sits perched on several pillows on top of a chair to get him to the proper height to reach the table. He’s watching a cartoon on a tablet, so transfixed that he doesn’t even notice their presence.

“Tony? I’ve got someone for you to meet,” Rose says, releasing James’s hand to step closer to her brother. “Can we pause Peppa for a moment, please?”

“I guess,” the boy says with a dramatic sigh. He reaches out with grubby fingers to pause the video, then pivots in his seat, causing the pillows to shift slightly with his movements. He meets James’s eye and blinks. “Who’re’you?”

“This is James,” Rose says, touching his upper arm as she says his name. “Remember I said he’d be hangin’ out with us tonight. He’s my boyfriend. Can you say hi?”

“Hi,” Tony obliges. “D’you like Peppa?”

James scratches the back of his neck. “Can’t say I’ve ever watched Peppa. What’s it all about?”

Tony lights up and launches into a half-coherent rambling about the show and the characters. James barely follows what the boy is saying, but judging from the interactions he’s had with some of his friends’ kids, it doesn’t really matter.

“Come come come,” Tony says, patting the table beside him. “You can watch Peppa too. Come on!”

Rose flashes him an apologetic smile, but James waves her off and pulls up a chair to sit beside the child.

“This one’s my fav’rite,” Tony says, returning to the tablet and starting the episode.

“They’re all your favorite,” Rose mutters. She steps up behind James and lightly links her arms around his neck, resting her chin atop his head. He leans into her while an anthropomorphic pig appears on the screen.

“Is that Peppa?” he asks.

Tony giggles. “Nooooo, silly, tha’s Chloe!”

“God, I can’t believe you didn’t recognize that’s Chloe,” Rose drawls in his ear.

He reaches back to pinch her bum as he says to Tony, “Oh, right, silly me. Of course I can see that’s Chloe now.”

Tony absently swings his feet and nibbles on a hotdog. “There. Tha’s Peppa.”

Rose continues to hold James in a backwards hug while the three of them watch the brief episode together. When it ends, Rose ruffles Tony’s hair and says, “I’m gonna steal James back, all right? We need to make grown-up food.”

“You don’ wan’ hotdogs?” Tony asks, frowning.

Rose grimaces. “Nah, remember big sissy doesn’t like those.”

Tony simply blinks owlishly at her, as if he couldn’t possibly understand why anyone wouldn’t like hotdogs. James, meanwhile, catalogs that factoid of Rose into his memory bank.

“After dinner, why don’t we all play a game?” Rose suggests.

“Okay,” Tony says brightly, and he returns his attention back to Peppa Pig.

James follows Rose the short distance to the kitchen, where, together, they chop, season, then cook the ingredients for fajitas.

The knife is an extension of his hands as he neatly slices and dices. He hardly realizes Rose is watching him until she asks, “Have you always been this comfortable in a kitchen?”

He glances over at her lumpy attempts at cubed chicken.

“Don’t laugh, but I actually took cooking lessons a couple years ago,” he admits, faint heat crawling up his cheeks.

“Why would I laugh?”

He ignores the jabs his friends made when he told them he was learning to cook.

“Just hire a chef…”

“Just order in…”

“Just find a wife…”

His famous friends didn’t understand why he didn’t hire someone to cook for him, and his non-famous friends didn’t understand why he would want to learn a skill they would all kill not to need to use.

James shrugs. “I like the idea of knowing how to cook. My luck might run out, and this time next year, I’ll be a washed-up has-been who needs to get by like a normal person, which includes knowing how to cook and use ingredients efficiently. And it’s healthier than dining out all the time. I struggled with proper nutrition when I first became famous.”

Rose comes up beside him and, careful of the knife, hugs one of his arms. She plants a kiss to his shoulder.

“Makes sense. You’ll have to teach me one day. But not tonight, I’m starving and in no mood for lessons.”

He snorts and bumps his hip into hers to get her to take a step away so he can reach for the onion that needs chopping.

The flat is soon filled with the sound of sizzling chicken, and it smells absolutely divine. The meat and spice scent reminds him of their date at Cocinara.

“Let’s go out to dinner sometime soon,” he suggests. “I know we’re trying to keep a low profile, but I’d really like to take you out. We can get all dressed up and get wasted on fancy champagne and stuff ourselves on fancy hors d'oeuvres and order fancy meals that come on fancy plates that look too fancy to eat. I know some places. I can book a reservation in a private area where we can go unnoticed.”

“James, you don’t need to convince me,” Rose says gently, resting her hand on his forearm to pause his rapid-fire speech. She then flashes him a cheeky smile. “You had me convinced at the promise of champagne. And dear God, would you please stop saying ‘fancy’?”

“You don’t fancy it?” he quips, giggling as she rolls her eyes and halfheartedly swats his chest.

When their dinner is finished, they each struggle to enfold the sauteed chicken and veggies into a tortilla shell until they give up and shred their tortilla atop a pile of fajita innards. Tony has left his perch at the kitchen table and is instead curled on the sofa with the iPad, still wholly consumed by Peppa Pig.

Rose clears her brother’s empty plate from the table. While in the kitchen, she grabs a bottle of pink wine and two glasses, and pours them both healthy measures. They clink their glasses in a dainty toast before tucking into their meal.

They don’t speak while they eat, but James has never felt more comfortable. There have been dates he’d gone on where he felt the need to fill every awkward silence because it was too stifling. But not here. Not now. Not with Rose.

He stretches his legs towards hers and lets his toes tap an absent beat against her feet while they eat. The beat turns into the rhythm of the song he tried (and failed) all day to tweak.

“D’you wanna see the recording studio?” he blurts. “I could show you how the sausage gets made.”

“You mean you don’t just sing into a microphone and magically have an album?” she drawls.

“Enh, that’s really the general gist of it. Just with some fancier gadgets. So… wanna see the studio? I’m sure there’s a “take your girlfriend to work” day coming up soon.”

Rose cackles. “Next time school’s off, I’ll come by. During the winter holiday, maybe.”

He makes a mental note about it, and is suddenly impatient for the next couple weeks to pass. While he genuinely does want to invite her into his professional life, his ulterior motive for showing her the studio is to present his half-finished album to her, to seek her blessing about creating music that captures and immortalizes the beginnings of their relationships.

When their food is eaten and the dishes are piled into the sink to do later, James and Rose join Tony in the living room. He finally puts the iPad aside and asks, “Can we play Jus’ Dance?”

James perks up. “Ooh, yes please!” He turns to Rose and affects his best pout.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she says.

She opens the little cabinet door of the entertainment center her TV sits atop of to reveal an older-model gaming unit.

“Is that a genuine antique Wii?” James gasps.

Rose sticks her tongue out at him. “Shut up. I found one cheap online and got it so I could entertain this little terror when he comes to visit.”

Tony is utterly oblivious to his sister’s comment and is instead preemptively gyrating his hips, dancing to music that exists solely in his head. He puts lyrics to that music and is soon crooning in a long, off-key babble, “Gonna play Jus’ Dance. Gonna dance wi’ sissy. Gonna dance wi’ James. Gonna dance and dance ‘til it’s bedtime and Mummy comes and I go home and sleep in my big boy bed.”

“All right, big boy, you first,” Rose says, loading up the game.

There is a wide selection of songs from the 90’s and early 2000s; James notices she picks a child-appropriate song for her brother to play. Tony eagerly grabs the Wii remote and vaguely follows the on-screen dancer, choosing instead to move his body however he sees fit. The pure joy and delight radiating from the boy is infectious, and before they know it, he and Rose are mirroring Tony’s wild movements and giggling uncontrollably.

“Your turn!” Tony pants, pink-faced.

James accepts the nunchuk and selects a song for himself.

They pass nearly two hours in this fashion, trading off the controller between the three of them. James is amazed by (and slightly envious of) how much stamina Tony has. It’s only when the clock strikes 8:30 that he seems to have hit a wall. He throws himself onto the sofa and announces, “My legs are out of breath.”

Rose grins. “Yeah, mine are too. How ‘bout you, James.”

“So out of breath,” he agrees.

“Let’s sneak in a bit of ice cream before Mummy comes to get you, eh?” Rose suggests.

“Yay! Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream! Choc’late?”

“Of course. Only the best for my Tony.” Rose glances at James. “Want some?”

He nods, and powers down the Wii before settling onto the sofa beside Tony.

“That was fun. Good choice, little man.”

“It’s my fav’rite,” Tony says, still lying in a heap on the sofa. He peers up at James with giant brown eyes that are a few shades darker than Rose’s. “Are you an’ sissy in love?”

James balks. For a split second, he nearly spits out the reactionary retort he gives paparazzi, but mercifully catches himself.

He’s just a child. Of course he isn’t fishing for information. He’s just a child.

“Er, yeah, we are,” he answers, scratching at the back of his neck, as though that will stop his skin from prickling.

Tony beams. “Are you gonna get married?”

James doesn’t have a chance to respond, since Rose chooses this moment to enter the living room juggling three bowls. Her cheeks are pink, and she flashes him an apologetic smile before setting one of the bowls on the coffee table.

“Bum on the floor,” she tells her brother, who is already in motion to sit in front of his ice cream.

She then hands James his ice cream and settles into the spot her brother vacated.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” she murmurs in an undertone.

James shakes her head. “Children don’t know any better. No filter at that age. Not that I’m one to talk. My filter hasn’t developed even by age twenty-seven.”

Rose visibly relaxes, and the three of them sit in comfortable silence, enjoying their dessert.

The entire lower half of Tony’s face is covered in sticky chocolate by the time he’s done, so Rose marches her brother down the hall to clean him up while James takes it upon himself to start the washing up. He cleans up the droplets of melted ice cream from the coffee table, then does all of the dishes piled up by the sink.

Washing dishes has always been a mindless task for him, and tonight is no different. While he runs through the motions of washing and rinsing, his mind wanders absently, wondering what he and Rose can do together tomorrow, wondering where he can take her out to dinner, wondering if, as Tony said, Rose might want to marry him some day.

He never put much thought into marriage; it was something that either happened or didn’t. He has never had the deep and desperate desire to get married; all he ever wanted is to find a partner he loves with his whole self, and who loves him with their whole self. Whether that is made legally official with legally binding documents, or whether it’s a vow of commitment made between him and his partner, he doesn’t care.

But does Rose care? Does Rose want the big fancy wedding with the big fancy dress? He supposes he ought to find out. Really, he ought to find out a lot more than what he already knows. How much does he even know about Rose? What are her hopes and dreams and aspirations? Where does she want her life to be in five years? In ten? Does she want children? Does he want children?

He tries to imagine himself in ten years’ time, just like this, with Rose bathing their child or putting them to bed while he does the evening chores, and he just… he can’t see it.

He tries again and again, despite a little voice in the back of his mind that tells him that this doesn’t matter because he doesn’t know what Rose wants, and yet it makes no difference. Because what if Rose really, really wants children? What if having children is a deal breaker for her? Would he be okay with having kids? Would he be okay with not having kids? Do most twenty-seven-year-olds know by now if they want kids??

James has been absently scrubbing the same bowl for nearly five minutes, and he realizes Rose and Tony have been gone for quite a while.

But he barely finishes that thought when he hears the metallic jangle of a key in a lock, and suddenly Rose’s front door swings open. James’s heart is hammering as he is jarred back to the present. He sets the ultra-clean bowl into the sink and grabs a towel to dry his hands.

“Sorry we’re late. Traffic was a nightmare, you wouldn’t believe—”

A middle-aged blonde woman that James recognizes is standing just inside the front door beside a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair. James freezes as the woman’s eyes lock onto him and turn to ice.

“You!” she snarls, and stalks towards James. He shrinks away, but the sharp edge of the countertop bites into the small of his back, preventing his retreat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my daughter’s flat?!”

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #my fic #sacred new beginnings #i'm so excited for this chapter #and the coming ones #i hope y'all like this!

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cherryfairytwist · 2 months ago

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Ch15 The Triangle. RickFic

(Tags: Stalking, action violence)

—- HELLO —-

—- INITIATING DOWNLOAD SEQUENCE MEMORY CLUSTER #15 —-

—-PULLING UP EARLIEST ASSISTED MEMORY RECORDS —-

—- NARRATION SIMULATING NOW

Astrid rolled over on Reagan’s bed drunkenly scrunching her face in loathing, “God he’s such a dick. He couldn’t just leave things alone. H-his kids like me!! I- I just thought we all had an understanding…!”

“Not to say I told you so… but I’ve told you he’s literally the worst.” Reagan answered trying not to sound like she was rubbing it in.

“Okay- first of all.. what happened between you and Rick back then was equal parts fucked up on both you guys’ ends..” Astrid quipped back not wanting to hear it.

“Well I mean- he’s still a dick!” Reagan groaned back while playfully pushing Astrid off the bed.

“Hey-!” Astrid yelled back with a goofy laugh from the floor.

Astrid adjusted herself and sat back on the bed next to Reagan letting out a sigh of frustration and leaned up against her shoulder.

“I just wish I could control my powers.. like- without my handler. I got so scared thinking I was going to hurt the kids when my activation protocol trigger on its own. something just wasn’t right inside me when I thought they were in danger...I think the only thing that stopped me was getting shot in the head. I- it hurt for a while.. I-I don’t heal like I used to like back before the incident.” Astrid babbled on sullenly.

Reagan sat silently mulling over what Astrid was saying and how she was feeling. Tapping her fingers on the edge of the bed she anxiously considered something she had been thinking about for a long time.

“What if.. what if we were able to hack your brain..? What if we could override your super soldier codes and just give you new ones?” She said out loud staring at the floor.

Astrid silently stared for a moment and then blurted, “Is that even safe…?”

“Well.. Astrid come on- clearly your reprogramming didn’t work very well if it’s glitching.. it honestly might be something to consider..but yeah- it would be risky.” Reagan answered honestly turning to look her in the eyes with concern.

“Fuck…! Why is this so- I wish fixing myself wasn’t so complicated.” Astrid said starting to now sadly whisper to herself as she looked away.

“Hey- We got this!! We’ll have you fixed up in no time. If you want me to try and figure out how to re program you- or atleast program some new commands in for you.. maybe you could come along on a work trip with me. You could lend me a hand and I’d be able to see you in action to better assess your status. Technically it would be off the record- you coming that is.” Reagan attempted to smooth over the topic by changing the subject.

“You want me to come on a work trip with you?? Doesn’t Cognito still have me on it’s no fly list or whatever? Where would we be going?” Astrid asked curiously falling for Reagan’s redirection.

“Well since I became head of cognito the Atlantians have been wanting to have a type of working alliance. They recently sent word they were having issues with one of their old districts and was hoping I might be willing to lend a hand.” Reagan said confidently feeling how far she had come in the company.

“Oh look at you~ big boss lady Hu?” Astrid playfully joked as she scrunched her eyebrows up and down.

“Quit it!” Reagan teased back poking Astrid on the cheek, “Yes I’m still keeping you secret from Cognito for now… only because I don’t want the Robes out right saying I can’t work with you.. it would look more appealing if you had helped me with a job and then it becomes an offer they can’t refuse! Also.. most of Cognito maybe wouldn’t be as afraid of you by then….” Reagan tried to explain without making it sound bad.

“The Robes…? And everyone is still scared of me that bad…?” Astrid asked forlorn again.

“Well not everyone…! I know the team misses you- also now that I think about it, the Robes probably already know we’ve been in contact this whole time.” Reagan started to mutter as she thought about the Robes.

“They know…?! How?” Astrid asked feeling a bit worried since they still might have access to contact her agency.

“Don’t worry.. they would have said something to me if this was a problem… maybe they just want to see how this goes? Maybe they have high hopes for this situation like how I do? I have a feeling they might want to snatch you from your Agency anyway- but they’d let you decide that in your own.” Reagan said assuredly after thinking it over.

“Okay I guess that’s ideal for now..” Astrid said a little hesitant but ultimately gave in knowing the Robes likely had personal motives that might benefit her later on.

If her agency had no use for her currently what would be the harm in doing some side missions for someone else…?

Hours had passed since the two of them had reunited when Astrid had drunkenly showed up at Reagan’s place that evening. They had discussed the plans of their impending trip to Atlantis and went over the need to know basics since they would be leaving in the morning for their departure. After that was settled they spent the rest of their time together that evening watching movies and drinking beers on the couch snuggled up under a blanket. It had been a long time since the two of them had been affectionate with each other so it was a little awkward at times but they both found the other’s company quite enjoyable. After a while they both drunkenly made out on Reagan’s bed until they both passed out once the alcohol took over. Both of them were left in a crumpled up pile twisted up in the sheets together sound asleep. That is until Reagan began to stir at an unfamiliar whispering sound snapping her out of a dream.

“Wh- Astrid…?” She whispered squinting open her eyes in the dark.

She saw Astrid sprawled out across her in bed, still hearing the faint whispering she looked up and froze in place. A dark figure stood in the corner of the room wearing what looked like a wide brimmed hat. She panicked and hit a button on the side of her head board triggering all the lights to come on and all the windows and doors to lock down. As soon as the lights were on the figure had vanished.

“Holy- fuck…. Was that just a dream?!” Reagan let out a sigh in relief feeling her heart still pounding in her chest.

She looked down at the snoozing Astrid in her lap and smiled, ruffling her fingers through her dark hair affectionately.

“I guess I really don’t need to worry about much if you’re here right?” She joked silently to herself thinking about how Astrid was likely the most dangerous thing she had encountered in comparison.

She scooted back into bed with her and hit the lights back off. Cozying up to Astrid, Reagan thought about how nice this trip was going to turn out now that she was with her.

Meanwhile back at the Smith residence things had started to get chaotic. The whole family was now in uproar over the antics Rick had pulled that previous evening. The kids had gone to school and noticed Astrid was absent that day. This lead them to assume the worst thinking Rick might have scared her off for real this time. Both Morty and Summer had been non-stop apologizing and checking in over text message all day, only to not receive any response from Astrid in return. They arrived home furious, refusing to help Rick with any adventures or chores in protest to his handling of the situation.

But no matter how much the siblings insisted, Rick refused apologizing to Astrid. The arguing between the siblings and Rick started to spread to the ears of the Beths late that evening at the dinner table. Both the Beths felt horrible that their father had run off their kids’ favorite teacher so they had shown up at her apartment to leave an apology basket, looking around to see if the apartment had been abandoned. To their relief it seemed her car and various other items such as her welcome mat still remained. They came home to let the kids know, hoping it would ease their minds. However this just angered Morty enough to try and pick another fight with Rick.

“R-Rick why c-can’t you just apologize?! You know y-you went too far!” He squealed out so heated his voice cracked.

Scoffing, Rick pointed out to Morty something on his monitor as he spun him around, “See Morty-! She hasn’t even left planet. So it’s obviously n-not that big of an issue.” Showing her location in a different state on his computer map.

“You’re still tracking her…?! W-what the hell Rick! She left town because of you!” Morty yelled.

“Ha! She’s probably off sucking face with a hack job government scientist right now.” He ignored Morty’s clear judgment only focusing on his not very well hidden bitterness.

“W-what-? R-Rick are you fucked in the head right now?! Y-you’ve been stalking her and her- ex…? Situationship-…? Whatever- you’re stalking them?!” Morty demanded feeling the pain of how many boundaries Rick was clearly breaking.

“Oh grow up M-Morty. I need to keep an eye out on this shadow government disaster of a company. They’re always stirring up trouble on Earth- for me-! I’ve had run ins with them before. It’s not stalking it’s preparing for any possibility.” He retorted back unbothered.

“If they were t-that much of a threat how come I haven’t heard y-you talk about them before t-then?” Morty insisted knowing Rick was just pulling bull shit out of his ass so he wouldn’t have to admit anything.

Rick rolled his eyes and shoved Morty out of the garage, “They have connections to the President Morty! What would you know?” He shouted before slamming the door behind him.

The next day Reagan had awoken early in an attempt to smuggle Astrid onto Cognito’s private jet before the rest of the team was scheduled to get there. The jet had previously been owned by J.R. which he had payed for with embezzled funds from the company. After having been sent to shadow prison the Robes had granted it to Reagan for her personal use.

“Will there be coffee on the plane atleast…?” Astrid asked in a grumpy tone from under the jacket.

“Yes, we’ll get you a cup and then I’ll set you up in the back room of the plane so no one-“ she abruptly paused after swinging the jet door open.

Much to Reagan’s dismay, it seemed the team members had arrived before schedule and were already making themselves at home on the plane. Before Reagan could signal Astrid to wait, she had already thrown off the jacket in annoyance not expecting the team to be waiting there for them.

“Fuck.” Reagan groaned out silently.

“Oh my goodness! Astrid..?! Is that you?” Gigi called out in surprise from one of the front seats as Reagan ushered Astrid in onto the plane.

“Holy moly- A-Astrid…?!” Bret said in excited fear having not seen her since the incident.

“Oh here we go- ITS ALWAYS SOMETHING!” Glenn complained from the pilot seat outraged.

“Oh shit-“ Myc gasped out.

“R-Reagan…? Are you serious..?! How’d you find her again?” Andre asked coughing out blunt smoke from shock.

“Uh.. hi guys.” Astrid said awkwardly not knowing what to do in that moment.

“I thought you guys weren’t supposed to be on the plane until eight- thirty!” Reagan growled out as she plopped down in a seat no longer trying to hide Astrid.

“So what? you were going to sneak her on the trip and we just weren’t going to find out?!” Gigi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean.. I don’t know! I didn’t want to argue about it. I knew you’d all find out eventually.” Reagan retorted tiredly as she pored herself some coffee from the plane’s beverage counter nearby.

“Oh we’re going to argue alright- no offense Astrid-“ Glenn whipped his head around to then yell at Reagan, “but last time she was here she almost killed us!!”

“I mean we all missed you Astrid..” Andre attempted to smile at her but then turned to Reagan as well, “but he has a point Reagan…” he said with a little concern and popped a few pills into his mouth to calm his nerves.

“Oh come on y’all! Who hasn’t tried to kill us? We literally used to be enemies with the Atlantians and the Illuminati and now we are working with them! At least we know Astrid couldn’t help what happened last time.” Gigi spoke up in her defense.

“Yeah.. we know it’s not your fault Astrid..it’s just that situation was really scary- did you figure out a fix for what happened? Last time we heard-“ Bret attempted to catch back up but was interrupted by Reagan.

“Her agency tried to reprogram her but it didn’t work. They keep neglecting her- So now I’m going to reprogram her! If anyone has a problem with me wanting her to work with us then get off the plane now.” Reagan announced loudly causing the whole group to fall into silence.

“Yikes…” Myc finally said out-loud breaking the awkward silence.

So… she’s not fixed?” Gigi asked worriedly and biting her lip.

“I’m sorry about what happened back then guys.. but I don’t know anyone else I could turn to about this.. my Agency just.. isn’t really doing anything to help. They’ve left me out to dry.” Astrid said in an attempt to get them to hear her out.

Everyone looked guilty around the plane in silence knowing they all had a part in causing the issue for Astrid in the first place.

“Okay, okay- we missed you Astrid. We really have- but how are we supposed to help you if you might… snap again?” Gigi asked hoping there was some type of plan.

“I have a failsafe I came up with that could combat the issue if Astrid were to lose control. At least in the time being while I observe her before I try to program anything. I took the idea from that time her handler used that shock device on her last time. I made a- excuse my lack of a better name- a shock collar for her to wear.” Reagan explained to the group as she pointed to the small black little choker that sat on Astrid’s neck.

“That thing?” Bret asked curiously poking at Astrid’s choker before being playful swatted away by her.

“Yes. It might look small but I implanted 12 high powered shock chips to the inside of its lining. It most likely isn’t as powerful as the one her handler had but I’m pretty sure it will make do and at least disorient her if things were to go south. From what we have learned some injuries can snap her out of it. She told me about an instance that came up recently. Though I need to obviously study more to find out what best could work. I’d prefer not to cause pain in the future. I have a remote and the collar is also programmed to go off if it notices her mental awareness starting to slip. It’s reading her brain waves as we speak so it could pick up on any drastic changes.” She said plainly trying to get done with the explanation due to her own discomfort in having to make Astrid wear it.

“And you’re just okay with that..?” Myc asked Astrid as he picked up on Reagan’s clear discomfort.

“Yes I’m fine with it. We tested it out this morning and it definitely debilitated me for a bit. If it means we can all have comfort in knowing it can work if needed… I’m glad I have it on.” Astrid replied honestly.

“That thing better work if she decides to go kookoo!” Glenn yelled out from the cockpit in irritation.

“Yeah yeah.” Reagan snapped back equally as aggressive.

Everyone sat in silence for a moment before one of the plane’s screens turned on revealing the Prime minister of Atlantis. Everyone snapped to attention.

“Great! I see you all are ready bright and early today.” The lanky and blue prime minister spoke out enthusiastically to them. “We are expecting your arrival in a few hours so we are preparing to welcome you with our greeting committee!”

“Oh- Hello there Prime Minister! Y-yes we are all ready to go!” Reagan said startled almost choking on her coffee.

“I figured I could give you a quick run down of what to expect once here and touch on some of the mission details for you to think over.” He said with much enthusiasm through his Atlantean to English translator device on his desk.

“Uh- yeah! That sounds great… Glenn? Let’s go ahead and take off. The sooner we arrive at the Bermuda Triangle, the better.” Reagan called up to the cockpit with an in charge tone.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Glenn hollered out from the front.

The group heard the engines kick on as the plane jolted forward. Quickly everyone buckled themselves in knowing how Glenn could be when operating large vehicles or machines.

“As I was saying… “ the Prime minister continued after it looked like everyone had settled down,” Once you get here the committee will escort you from the lighthouse entrance down to the main hub of the city. Make sure you go to the right one we instructed, on the map we gave you. There are multiple light houses in the triangle that lead down to the city… however some of them have been decommissioned.. wouldn’t want you getting stuck.” He said with a concerned tone causing his facial fins to quiver.

“Why were they decommissioned?” Brett asked curiously.

“Well that brings me right to the point of your mission.” The minister’s tone turned serious as he continued, “ you see, Atlantis is much like the surface world regarding the continued process of building and renovation into more territory here under the waves.. there is one particular district of ours that has fallen into disarray after a drug outbreak occurred.”

“Hold on a minute are we going to be dealing with junkies?” Gigi asked having a hunch.

“Ahem- yes… I guess you could say that. But they are no ordinary “junkies” you see the drug has had very strange effects on the population there. It got so bad we had to seal off the city from the rest of Atlantis’ grid. We had to barricade the tunnels and attempt to flood parts of it. Grisly I know. But they fully believed the drug was some kind of evolutionary savior serum given to them by their now beloved cult leader. I mean they were attacking innocent citizens and trying to inject them with it!” He said shaking his head in woe.

“Maybe I could get my hands on some of it and come up with an antidote…. That is after I try some~” Andre called out from the back of the plane, already smoking another joint.

“Andre under no circumstances should you consume it!” Reagan snapped back to him as he gave her a giddy little grin.

“I highly doubt you can counter act what it’s done long term to some of these people.. it’s definitely changed them beyond recognition! But… maybe you could use the antidote on anyone who might get infected in the ordeal as we try and take back the city.” The Minister replied as he adjusted his gold collar.

“What it can’t be that bad right? How long has it been going around? A few weeks? Months? I’m sure I could-“ Andre started his sales pitch but then was cut short.

“It’s been years. Practically decades..” the Minister explained as he stroked the large pink stone on his necklace.

“Oh.. well they’re fucked!” Myc blurted out.

“Myc-“ Reagan pinched her forehead in annoyance then turned back to the screen, “If this has been going on so long why have you just now reached out to try and do something about it? At this point wouldn’t it just be easier to leave it be or destroy the district all together?” She asked honestly.

“Because…the city belongs to someone unfortunately, who was banished from Atlantis.. he inherits it now that the current mayor of the district is dead. He succumbed to that horrible drug I mentioned earlier..but we can discuss that later. I hope you all have a good flight! Check back in before you enter the triangle so we don’t lose connection with you all. Safe travels!” He ended the conversation abruptly.

“Right- see you soon sir.” Reagan replied before turning off the screen.

“Well that was weird..” Astrid piped up feeling something had been left out,

Back at the Smith residence Rick’s ears perked up at the sound of Astrid’s tracker alerting him to her change in location. He swiveled in his chair and pulled up the monitor.

“N-not staying put this time? What the h-hell are you up to?” He muttered to himself while watching the path of her tracker.

He tapped his fingers aggressively on his work bench as he considered where she could be headed. He calculated the speed at which the tracker was going and figured she must have been in a private air craft of some kind. He pulled out his flask and started chugging.

“You’re up to something..” Rick said suspiciously as he squinted at the screen.

A few hours later the plane neared the triangle. Reagan yawned and attempted to contact the prime minister again as instructed.

“Ooo I’m excited to see what Atlantis is like! Since I was a little girl I’d pretend to be a mermaid that lived there! Oh- and I hear they are BOOJIE!” Gigi said giddily in her seat.

Just as the screen blinked on with the Prime Ministers sitting patiently, a large explosion came from the back of the plane causing the screen to short out and go black.

“Holy fuck!” Reagan screamed in surprise.

“W-what’s happening…?!” Brett called out trying to take a look at the back of the plane.

“We’ve been hit! The tale has been obliterated! I need someone up here now!” Glenn yelled back from the cockpit.

Brett rushed to the front to assist as everyone quickly re- buckled their seats and braced for the turbulence.

Was this some kind of set up?!” Myc yelled up to Reagan over the loud winds.

“No- it must be that cult-“ she attempted to answer before the plane violently began to shake.

Everyone screamed in fear as the plane started to go down. Andre then proceeded to vomit up all the champagne he had been drinking the past few hours. Everyone grimaced and looked away uncomfortably.

“Glenn aim for the lighthouse on the map!! Try to let us down easy- if we have to abandon the plane we can!” Reagan shouted once more.

“Alright but we’re ganna need someone to cover us! Looks like we got company!” He shouted back and everyone looked out their windows.

A cluster of old rickety metal submarines were down below shooting various clusters of flaming scrap metal towards the plane.

“I’m on it!” Astrid yelled as she rushed towards the front.

“Wait Astrid-“ Reagan tried to call out but wasn’t heard over the wind.

Astrid then opened the jet’s side door and flung herself out, plummeting fast towards the enemy.

“Holy fuck I forgot she really is crazy all the time.” Myc shouted over the wind.

“God I love me a dangerous woman.” Gigi joked from her seat.

Everyone watched, glued to their windows, wanting to see what was about to unfold. Astrid hit the water like a missile, sending massive ripples in all directions. This made the subs discombobulate for a few moments, no longer sending out shots. A few of them clanked together violently, sending some of them into springing leaks. Astrid resurfaced looking nothing like her usual self taking on the form of some horrifying alien sea creature. Snatching up the various subs in her jaws and sending them flying is various directions. Most of the subs began to sink due to the fact they were incredibly old and not very fast. After the threat was neutralized, she returned back to her usual form, doggy paddling in the waves.

“Oh my god… nightmare fuel.” Andre breathed out both horrified and impressed.

“Well that was actually pretty quick..” Reagan said in a little disbelief.

“Looks like we just need to worry about landing now..” Gigi said turning back to look at the cockpit where both Glenn and Brett were stress shouting while trying to keep the plane steady and gliding.

“We’re about to make impact! It might be smarter to just jump since the lighthouse is close!!” Glenn yelled back at everyone.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Brett laughed nervously as he ran back to grab a parachute for the both of them.

Everyone rushed to grab one and put it on as they cluttered near the door.

“Wait a minute there are only five…!” Myc blurted after he was left out.

“Y’all need to jump now!!” Glenn barked from front.

Reagan let out a laugh and looked at Andre and Myc, “looks like something you two will need to figure out!” She yelled out humorously before jumping out of the plane.

Gigi and Brett quickly followed right after her leaving the three of them left on the plane.

Andre looked at Myc defeated and opened is arms wide preparing for the embrace.

“Well at least I got you buddy.” Myc said jokingly.

“Yeah yeah.” Andre replied tiredly before they both jumped out together.

Glenn then aimed the plane up as hard as he could to allow himself time to get to the door after abandoning the wheel. He then unbuckled and rushed out.

“Hoooo wheee! This reminds me of the war!” Glenn hollered down at the rest of them as they floated closer to the water after activating his shoot.

They all looked over to see the plane go down, barely missing the lighthouse. And in a huge splash, the plane had made contact with the ocean.

“Well that was certainly one way to start the mission.” Brett said now more cheerful knowing they weren’t in danger anymore.

“Man and I was exited about having that jet too..” Reagan mumbled to herself as they all drifted even closer to the lighthouse.

Astrid quickly swam up underneath them, waving with a big smile while waiting for them to join her in the water. One by one they all joined her in little splashes. The five parachutes deflating and causing a train behind them.

“I’m sorry about your plane.” Astrid said sympathetically to Reagan as she grabbed her in the water.

“Eh, it was J.R.’s.” Reagan said trying not to get too hung up on it.

They all then swam towards the lighthouse steps.

“Man I do not want to find out if there are more of those junkie terrorists waiting in the water for us!” Glenn pipped up and then quickly went underwater to check.

Everyone increased their speed not wanting to find out either.

Just as everyone reached the lighthouse Glenn resurfaced with a calmer expression letting everyone know that there probably was not another incoming threat for now. They all lugged themselves out onto to steps and rocks of the lighthouse.

“Uhhhg-!” Andre groaned out loudly as he threw Myc off him.

“Thanks champ you’re a real Olympian!” Myc joked sarcastically.

“F-fuck you.” Andre gasped out as he tried to catch his breath.

“Okay guys let’s try and get into the transportation chamber! I believe it’s up ahead.” Reagan stated as she got up and rushed to the large art deco looking doors at the base of the lighthouse.

One by one everyone slowly got up and joined her inside only to find her muttering and cursing under her breath.

“What..? What’s Wrong Reagan?” Astrid asked as she looked down to see the transporter pod had been sabotaged.

The older bronze pod looked perfectly decent other than the main switch’s wires in its panel were all cut and its circuit board smashed.

“Aw shit. So we’re stuck up here until they come get us?” Gigi groaned out in frustration.

“It’s getting dark.. maybe we should stay the night up in the lighthouse itself then..? It would be a good look out spot if they were to attack again. It looks mighty cozy up there!” Brett said being optimistic.

“Sleeping would be nice.” Andre said exhausted.

“I’m staying in the water tonight! I’ll call for sea creature back up if needed.” Glenn announced before jumping back into the water.

“More room for us then.” Myc said unbothered.

The rest of them climbed up the stairs inside the lighthouse heading to the very top. They passed one floor that seemed to be full of storage boxes, then came to the main room. It was set up with a few cots, a radio and a few desk lamps.

“Nice! Maybe we can contact the Atlantians with the radio.” Brett said enthusiastically.

“I’ll try it out give me a minute.” Gigi replied as she walked over to it.

The gang settled in picking spots they’d sleep that evening as the sun began to go down. Gigi had managed to contact the Atlantians through the radio letting them know they were stranded at the lighthouse with no working pod. They informed her that by morning they would send a repair and rescue crew. After making sure everything was in order she got up from the desk and shoved Myc off the nearest cot.

“Hey! Watch it- I was sleeping!” He complained.

“Nope, not anymore. You get first watch.” Gigi replied smugly as she cozied up on the cot.

Myc looked around to try and put off the responsibility to someone else but grumbled once he saw everyone else was fast asleep. Brett hung from a fishing net in the rafters like a hammock, Andre was sprawled out on another cot on the other side of the room, and Reagan laid across Astrid’s sleeping lap on a pile of tarps and sacks.

That morning they all stirred to the sound of metal clanging and Glenn shouting for them to,

“GET DOWN HERE THE RESCUE TEAM MADE IT!” He said with authority.

Once everyone was down at the pod entrance, introductions were made.

“Greetings Cognito Inc. we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Did you all get enough rest in the lighthouse? We have much better rooms waiting for you down in the capital!” The head of the rescue team spoke up through a voice translator.

A group of 5 tall blue fishlike persons stood seating them.

“It was awful-“ Myc began to complain before he was interrupted.

“Well good thing you are here now! Are we ready to depart?” Reagan piped up hoping to get the show on the road.

They were all swept up into the pod- it was pure white with gold accents in a sort of art deco style. It was sleek, modern yet intricate with designs hinting at an Egyptian influence. Everyone situated themselves on soft clean cushioned seating benches inside, looking out past the large glass panels that covered most of the top and sides of the dome.

“Ooh I knew it! They are fancy down here.” Gigi giggled to herself excitedly.

“Everyone ready?” The head of the greeting committee asked as he pulled a golden switch in the back of the pod causing it to slowly lower into the water and submerge.

The gang all murmured comments to each other and watched the sea consume them. The pod slowly started to descend deeper, the water getting darker with every passing second. Suddenly the water seemed to get lighter in color as they realized they were now getting closer to the capital. Distant lights twinkled from down below.

“Wow look! H-holy shit this is cool guys.” Andre said quickly sparking up a blunt wanting to enjoy the scenery.

“Ahem…! Please refrain from smoking in the pod-!” One of the committee members hassled him.

He cracked a guilty smile and attempted to put it out on the bottom of his shoe. The member rolled his eyes and relaxed back in his seat. As the pod neared the large glass bubble containing the capital, more of the sea life was visible. Everyone ogled at the schools of fish, the few sharks in the distance, the coral reefs, seaweed forests, clams, sea stars and one giant squid as it brushed past the pod.

“Atlantis is a lot like a reverse aquarium Hu?” Brett whispered over his shoulder as his eyes were glued to the window.

“Sure is buddy.” Reagan absentmindedly agreed as she too was distracted by all the beauty.

Astrid chuckled to herself remembering how funny the dynamic for the Cognito team was. She had missed days like these with them. She shifted in her seat as her mind wandered to the feeling of missing Summer and Morty for a moment. Had she disappointed them by running off after all that had happened? Did Rick really not feel bad about taking things too far? But really what was she to expect? She had dealt with more evil and insane individuals before, for crying out loud it is RICK SANCHEZ.. so why did this feel so stingy? It was like how the Cognito team had made her feel before. Was this a feeling of betrayal? But betrayal was the nature of her work and since when did she ever trust Rick? It’s not like they had ever been close. She took a breath of frustration and focused back into the pod again focusing on a strand of hair getting in Reagan’s face so she brushed it away.

“Look we’re so close!” Brett said giddily pointing to the dome only a yard away from them now.

The city had a futuristic art deco look to it, so much gold, white and glass everywhere. It was like a large scale terrarium. Large sky scraper buildings that looked a little older towered over the huge bubble but what looked like the newest and most beautiful buildings were inside the dome. The pod glided underneath the dome towards the center where a port was. The ship started to rise up to the top of a tunnel that then pointed upwards. A large panel opened up sucking the ship in and closing up behind it. Lights flashed and a siren whaled as the water was drained. The pod’s door popped and swung open revealing another group of smartly dressed Atlantans waiting on them. One of them, a familiar face, was the Prime minister. His large blue head hovering above all the others. Most of the ministers looked to be the same race as him but a few others had similarities but looked a bit different. More human like with different skin tones but with odd eyes and small face fins.

“Ah, greetings Cognito Inc. we are glad you are finally here!” The minister called out through a translator mic that one of his security men held up near his face much like a spoon.

“It’s great to be here! But let’s cut to the chase- Those submarines that attacked us- was that the cult you were telling us about?” Reagan asked.

“Well- yes. We had no idea they were planning something like that! It makes us realize how much this cult nonsense really has gotten out of hand!” He blubbered out embarrassed turning his blue face slightly purple.

“So you didn’t know they had submarines and weapons- and they could even come to the surface-as in escaping from their supposed blocked off district?” Gigi hounded smelling something was up.

“We never thought they’d leave! We knew they had a few submarines but they never tried to go to the surface before! They’ve never acted this organized or have bothered to actually leave their district. Part of their weird beliefs is that they stay in their district thinking it’s some kind of holy city.”

“Hmm which most likely means they never intended to surface other than to probably participate in protecting their holy land from foreign visitors that contradict their beliefs.” Reagan hypothesized.

“But how would they have even known we were coming-?” Brett asked confused.

“We have no idea, but our sources claim there have been whispering about the cult gearing up for some type of holy war- they must have believed your arrival was some type of omen..We are investigating this as we speak.” He replied more assuredly, clearly having faith in his team.

“In the meantime we thought it would be safest to put off sending you all into the district. Just for a day or two while we catch whoever on the inside leaked information…. It will give us a chance to share all we know about these people and get you prepared to face them.” Another one of the advisers said.

“Downtime? Sweet.” Myc replied lazily having no intention of getting serious the next two days.

“Training to outsmart the enemy- I like it!” Glenn shouted over the group to be heard.

“Dude~ sick.” Andre whispered with red eyes attempting to hide a pull of smoke he exhaled under his coat.

“Nice now we get to check out more of Atlantis!” Brett said with much enthusiasm.

“I mean if the situation allows-“ Astrid muttered also hoping for a bit of fun before having to get down to work.

“Some rest would be nice after that ordeal- also it has been my DREAM to visit here..” Gigi whispered into Reagan’s ear before winking triumphantly at Astrid confident they could all make Reagan crumble.

“Well- if you insist. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra day or two to prepare..” Reagan said hesitantly attempting to nurse her pride in front of the advisors.

“Oh come now Ridley! We are all friends now- this alliance means a great deal to us… we insist to treat you for a few days before you do us this favor.” The Prime minister piped up noticing her reluctance.

“Alright- but we will be getting the full run down right? All the information you have on this cult? Also… I want to hear more about that person you said is supposed to inherit that district. Anything could be relevant-“ Reagan continued before being cut short by the guilty looks on the advisors around the Prime Minister.

“I’m sensing it’s something personal isn’t it?” Gigi chimed in having a hunch.

“Oh bother… yes. You could say it is very personal.” The Prime Minister’s eyes rolled after he let out an incredibly loud sigh.

“Uh oh drama alert! Spill it sister.” Andre said jokingly goading him.

“The man who inherits the district is the same man who slept with my wife…! And- he also happens to be my bastard distant cousin.. He was banished under multiple charges of breaking Atlantean law. The now deceased Mayor was his uncle who had no biological children of his own… however his second wife and her children are now the ones running the cult we are trying to eradicate. So now we can’t just let them take it! But the council and I have been debating oh how to handle the inheritance after we’ve cleaned out the city.” The Mayor spitting out each sentence as if it was painful.

“Eeeh. I know how it feels to know the person who slept with your wife.” Glenn mumbled annoyed while glaring daggers at Brett.

Brett rubbed the back of his neck nervously avoiding eye contact with him.

“So you’re considering nullifying his inheritance? Who is this guy? Could he have some type of connection to the cult at all?” Astrid asked.

“I’ve heard rumors he’s quite the menace to those of you on land. I wouldn’t be surprised if you heard of him. I know he currently has some type of nemesis- and ongoing tiff he keeps up with. But no I seriously doubt he has anything to do with the cult. He’s occupied with trivial matters… claiming he’s king of the Ocean.. what nonsense.” The minister said annoyed.

“Wait a minute..” Reagan started to ask having a feeling she knew the man the Prime Minister spoke of.

“You think you know this person?” Astrid asked looking over her shoulder at Reagan curiously.

“Oh god is it Mr.-“ Reagan started to blurt out just as the Prime Minister answered.

“He goes by Mr. Nimbus. Yes.” The Minister huffed.

Suddenly Rick jerked forward awakening from a blackout in his half hazardously parked ship ontop of the Smith’s roof.

“W-what just happened-?” He asked allowed to no one in particular.

He had a funny feeling creep down his spine. He squinted his eyes suspiciously at his surroundings.

“Something isn’t right…” he groaned as he wobbled and pulled himself out of the ship onto the roof.

The world spun rapidly for him as he adjusted to the weight of his own body in motion. He slid down and hopped off in front of the garage. He opened the door and stomped over to his computer. He saw that Astrid’s tracker now showed her in Atlantis.

“Y-you’re in Atlantis?! Y-you’re just vacationing..?!” He hollered out bitterly knowing her and Reagan were most likely there together.

“Oh no. No- you two are up to something! A-and I’m going to find out.” He said gritting his teeth as he slammed a button on his desk.

Back in Atlantis the gang had been shown their rooms at the fanciest hotel in the capital.

Reagan and Astrid had decided on sharing a room with each other after they had managed to ditch the rest of the gang while Gigi demanded the best room from the hotel staff. They sat on a large circular bed next to a huge open window showing the sea life and the distant lights from the giant buildings surrounding them underwater.

“It really is beautiful down here.” Astrid commented while staring out into the depths.

“I know! Isn’t it great?” Reagan replied as she pulled out various contraptions from her bags.

“So I guess now that we have down time are we going to run some tests on me?” Astrid asked.

“I figured it would be better than waiting.” Reagan answered still very focused on finding what she was looking for.

Astrid then looked over at Reagan noticing she was hesitating on bringing something up. Too busy studying her face to notice a small probe was hovering at a distance hidden behind some seaweed outside their window.

“So this Nimbus guy…? You seem pretty happy with the Prime minister’s idea of not informing him of his pending inheritance. Is he that bad?” Astrid asked shyly not quite understanding how Reagan knew him.

“He’s some ego maniac sex pervert. Just like Rick actually- they are “sworn enemies” -of course I didn’t find that out until after I had met Sanchez.” Reagan grumbled.

“Wait- so if Nimbus gets involved does that mean Rick might get involved at some point if they are enemies?” Astrid asked hiding her contempt for Rick at the moment.

“That’s exactly what could happen. And if you are trying to avoid Rick right now we need to make sure Nimbus isn’t involved in any way.” Reagan stated irritatedly feeling jealousy bubble up in her veins.

“Oh we’ll see about that.” Rick said nefariously to the live footage of Reagan and Astrid’s conversation. “Nimbus…!? NIMBUS?! OF COURSE! This is just great.” He sarcastically ranted to himself as he punched in different commands on his watch.

He stood up and took a long sip of his flask,

“M-Morty get down here! Nimbus is at it again!” he hollered out the garage door pretending to be annoyed.

“Aw- g-geez what did h-he start up this time?” Morty replied from the den.

—- PART FIFTEEN COMPLETED —-

—- SHUTTING DOWN —-

—- GOODBYE —-

#rick and morty #rick and morty fandom #rick and morty oc #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez x reader #crossover #inside job fandom #inside job fanfic #inside job #rick and morty fanfiction #reagan ridley #rick sanchez #cognito inc

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vir-tanadahl · 4 months ago

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Chapter 16: In the Shadow of the Dread Wolf

I’m eagerly rewriting As the Moon Rises, which was originally written back in 2017, in anticipation of Dragon Age: Veilguard, channeling my excitement into refining the story. Summary: Isera Lavellan, at her mother’s behest, is sent to assist her twin brother, Banreas—the Inquisitor—in his mission to stop a force determined to bring about the world’s end. Together, they uncover long-buried secrets of their shared family history while Isera finds herself drawn to a mysterious non-Dalish elven mage whose knowledge of her heritage runs far deeper than she could have imagined. As the stakes rise, Isera must navigate this dangerous journey of discovery, where the past holds as much peril as the looming threats of the present. Solas x F!Lavellan.

[Ch1][Ch2][Ch3][Ch4][Ch5][Ch6][Ch7][Ch8]

[Ch9][Ch10][Ch11] [Ch12][Ch13] [Ch14] [Ch15] [Ch16]

Three times, they ventured through the eluvian from the Winter Palace, each journey drawing them deeper into a forgotten past. Each time, Isera uncovered another codex, each one slipping quietly into her possession. She never told the others. The voices from the Well of Sorrows whispered incessantly, urging her to wait, to keep the knowledge secret until the time was right.

Their most recent journey led them underground, to the ruins of an ancient elven library. This place was harder for Isera to leave. The library had once thrived, interwoven with the Fade itself, a wellspring of elven history now in shambles. So much knowledge had been lost here, and the weight of it pressed on her chest. Her heart ached as she wandered through the dusty shelves, running her fingers over the spines of forgotten tomes.

In true form, she couldn’t resist—her hands moved quickly, gathering as many of the ancient books as she could carry. Old habits. She had spent years collecting from places of knowledge, whether it be for her own survival or personal gain. This felt different, though. This was not just for her.

"We must find the past to protect the future. Only then will we grow," her mother's voice echoed faintly in her mind, a haunting reminder of the legacy she was meant to uphold.

Banreas forces a smile through the pain, his mark glowing faintly even though he tries to hide it. He bends down, scooping Sora and Veira into his arms, kissing their heads as they babble excitedly. For a brief moment, the weight of his burden seems to lift.

“Uncle!” they squeal, wrapping their small arms around his neck. Their joy is a temporary relief, but his eyes quickly find Isera, who sits quietly, watching him. She can see it—the strain, the exhaustion in his movements. He can no longer pretend the mark isn’t worsening.

Isera’s hands tighten in her lap, magic swirling faintly at her fingertips, a reminder of the power she struggles to contain. She wasn’t Solas. Solas had been the one who could control the mark all those years ago, but now, with him gone, she was left to manage as best she could. But it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.

The twins chatter happily as they play on the floor, unaware of the weight hanging in the air. Banreas rises slowly, his expression shifting back to something more serious as he approaches her.

“How bad?” she asks softly, her voice laced with concern.

Banreas waves a hand dismissively, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Arl Teagan and Cyril have been informed. They know what’s coming.” He pauses, glancing at the girls before lowering his voice. “It’s getting worse, Isera. We need to find a way—soon.”

Isera nods, her heart sinking. She looks back at her daughters, their laughter echoing through the room. The thought of them growing up without their uncle—it was too much to bear.

“We are about to go through again. We are close to stopping the qunari. Will you come?” Banreas asks, his eyes lingering on his nieces as they play together, their laughter a brief respite from the looming danger. Isera hesitates, her heart torn between her duty and the fear for her daughters’ safety. She watches them, so innocent and unaware of the threat lurking just beyond these walls.

She takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on her shoulders. “They are safe here,” she says, more to convince herself than anything. “I will come.” She stands, her movements stiff with the pain of leaving them behind. It feels like a betrayal, but she knows she can’t turn away from the fight. Not now.

Isera turns to the elven servant, her voice softer. “Perhaps the girls need more friends to play with while I’m away?” she offers, hoping to ease some of the guilt gnawing at her.

The servant looks up, a kind smile on her face. “Of course, my Lady. I will send for our favorites. They always seem to brighten the little ones’ spirits.”

Isera smiles faintly in return, though her heart remains heavy. She kneels down, pulling Sora and Veira into her arms, holding them tightly for a moment. “Be good, my loves,” she whispers, kissing their foreheads. The girls giggle, unaware of the storm brewing around them.

She pulls them closer, their small bodies warm and comforting against her. “Maeme will be back soon,” Isera whispers softly, her lips brushing against their foreheads as she leans in for a final kiss. The twins, too young to understand the weight of her words, simply grin up at her with that innocent, unburdened joy that only children possess. They quickly turn, chasing after the nugs with squeals of delight.

Isera inhales deeply, forcing herself to hold back the tears that sting at the corners of her eyes. The sound of their laughter echoes in the room, pulling at her heart as she steels herself for what lies ahead.

Nodding to herself, as if drawing strength from the moment, she turns and walks out of the room, leaving behind the soft giggles of her daughters that now feel like the most precious sound in the world.

---

Isera grips the edge of the tower for balance, her vision blurring as she stares at the mural before her. The image of Fen’harel, with the note tacked beside it, sends a sharp chill through her.

… believed to be a self-portrait of Fen’harel.

The words echo in her mind like a cruel whisper. She shakes her head in disbelief, her heart pounding beneath the layers of her armor.

"No..." she breathes, her voice trembling. Everything begins to fall into place—the codices she had uncovered, the cryptic words, the endless nights spent replaying their time together in her mind. It’s as if a veil has been lifted, and the truth is suffocating.

Her hand instinctively reaches up, trembling as she presses it against her chest where the jawbone necklace Solas once wore rests beneath her armor. He feels closer than he has in years, as if his presence is lingering around her, haunting her. The realization twists in her stomach, making her feel as though the ground beneath her feet is crumbling away.

"Is?" Banreas' voice cuts through the fog in her mind, calling from below. "Did you find anything?"

Isera quickly pulls her hand away from the necklace, forcing herself to remain steady. She shakes her head, swallowing the panic that threatens to rise. "No, sorry." The lie slips out smoothly, though her voice is tight. "There’s nothing else here. Let’s move further."

She casts one last glance at the mural, her chest aching, her head spinning with the weight of the truth she now carries alone. The voices within her confirm what she already fears, but she can’t—won’t—tell Banreas. Not yet. Her heart, once full of warmth at the thought of him, now feels heavy with the unbearable knowledge of who Solas truly is.

---

Isera’s heart pounds in her chest, each beat a reminder of how little time they have. The chaotic energy of the mark ripples through Banreas, sending violent discharges of raw magic into the air. She barely manages to shield them both, the strain of maintaining her barriers evident in her trembling arms. The Saarebas, wild with Dragon’s Breath, roars in agony, but she knows the only way to end this is through the Fade itself.

"Banreas, I’m sorry," Isera mutters, her voice tight with desperation as she rushes behind him. His body is heavy, weakened by the unstable mark. She catches his weight, her hand gripping his tightly as she channels her own magic into the mark, her connection to the Fade pulsing between them.

The Fade tears open at her command, a gaping maw of swirling, shimmering energy. The Saarebas howls one last time before being consumed, its form unraveling as it is swallowed by the ethereal void. But the victory is short-lived. Isera’s skin burns as the magic surges uncontrollably through her and Banreas, the mark feeding off their very life force.

She gasps, feeling the scorching pain of magic scorching her palm, but she pushes through it, her focus solely on her brother. Banreas collapses, his body limp in her arms as the mark continues to drain him. His eyes, half-lidded and dazed, meet hers with confusion and exhaustion.

“We have to go,” she commands, her voice breaking as she hoists him up, forcing him to his feet despite her own fatigue. "We have to save him!" Her plea is raw, a mixture of determination and fear, the fire in her voice unwavering even as her body protests.

Isera isn’t sure if her desperate plea is meant for her brother, lying weak in her arms, or for Solas—the one who had vanished from her life but never from her thoughts. The guilt gnaws at her, twisting like a knife in her gut. It’s as if, in trying to save Banreas from the mark that threatens to consume him, she is also reaching for the ghost of a man who left her behind.

The shame settles like a weight on her chest, each step she takes dragging her down, as if the truth she’s been avoiding is finally breaking free. The echoes of her own guilt and the compulsion of the voices blur together, leaving her unsure of where her duty to her brother ends and her unresolved pain over Solas begins.

Banreas stumbles, leaning heavily against her, his strength nearly gone. His eyes flutter, trying to focus, but the pain and exhaustion are overwhelming him. Still, Isera refuses to let him fall. ‘Not here. Not like this.’ She won’t lose him—not to the mark, not to the Fade, not today.

“Isera…” Banreas groans, his legs barely holding him as she pulls him along. He’s a dead weight, and she’s fighting her own exhaustion, feeling every pulse of the mark as it surges with unstable energy. They stumble through the eluvian, the mirror sealing behind them with a shimmer of magic.

"Please..." Isera whispers, desperation lacing her voice as she drags him up the hill. Each step is heavier than the last, her limbs screaming in protest. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, but something stronger than exhaustion drives her forward. Solas. She can hear him, his voice clear in her mind, beckoning her, taunting her.

Banreas stumbles beside her, the glow from his mark flaring out of control. He’s barely conscious now, muttering incoherently as his legs give way. Isera catches him, but it’s like trying to hold back a storm with a flimsy shield. The mark—it’s going to kill him.’ She can feel it, the wild magic sparking in his veins, surging dangerously toward release.

She forces herself onward, her eyes locked on Solas. He stands on the ridge, impassive, not even turning as he turns the Viddasala into stone with a mere flick of his hand. Cold. Detached. As if all of this—the destruction, the chaos, even her—meant nothing.

“Ban!” Isera gasps as her brother finally collapses, the mark on his hand blazing with uncontrollable energy. ‘Solas, help him!’ The thought burns in her mind, but she can’t say it aloud. Not after everything. She grits her teeth, trying once again to rein in the power coursing through Banreas’s arm, her own hand trembling from the strain. The magic sears through her, hot and painful, but she refuses to let go.

Solas turns, walking toward them with calm purpose, his expression unreadable. With a simple clench of his fist, the mark stops sparking, the violent magic dissipating into nothing. Isera clutches her brother as he passes out, his body finally giving in to exhaustion and pain. Her heart pounds in her chest, torn between fear and overwhelming relief.

Solas kneels beside her, his presence strangely soothing yet haunting. "He will wake in a few minutes," he says softly, his voice steady. His gaze meets hers, and a gentle smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I suspect you have questions."

Isera grips Banreas tighter, the weight of everything crashing down on her. “I know…” she whispers, her eyes locked onto his. Her voice is firm, but her body betrays her, trembling. "You are Fen’harel. You are the Dread Wolf."

His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, though a trace of sadness lingers in his eyes. "Well done." He smiles, but there is no joy in it. Only regret. “I was Solas first. Fen’harel came later—an insult, a name I took as a badge of pride. The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies." He chuckles lightly, but it’s a hollow sound. "Not unlike the Inquisitor, I suppose." He glances down at Banreas, as if seeing another piece of himself in Isera's brother.

Tears brim in Isera's eyes, her voice breaking as she speaks. "The Dalish…they were wrong. The tales of you—they’re all wrong. Solas, you are a hero."

Solas looks at her, and the pain that flashes across his face is undeniable. His features soften, and for a moment, he looks far older than he ever did before. "Those are fragments," he says quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Fragments to give me more credit than I ever deserved."

Isera tries to suppress the crushing sense of betrayal swelling in her chest. “If you had just told me…” she whispers, her voice trembling with pain. Yet, deep down, she knows the truth—if Solas had revealed his identity earlier, she isn’t sure how she would have reacted. Would she have believed him? Could she have accepted it?

Solas lowers his head, sorrow etched across his face. “Then you would carry the same burden I do,” he replies, his voice soft but heavy with regret.

“I want to… ma ghilana, vhenan,” Isera cries, her fingers gripping tightly around his wrist. Her heart aches, and in a fleeting moment, images of their children flash before her eyes—Sora and Viera, the life they could have had together. She refuses to release her hold on his gauntlet.

Solas meets her gaze, his own eyes filled with an impossible sadness. “I wish it could be, vhenan,” he whispers, his free hand covering hers, the weight of his words like a dagger in her heart.

Banreas stirs in her lap, groaning as he regains consciousness. Still dazed, he slowly rises to his knees, glancing down at the now-stabilized mark on his hand. "What happened?" he asks, his voice groggy and confused.

Isera takes a deep breath, her hand slipping away from Solas as she links it with her brother’s, grounding herself. “Solas is the Dread Wolf, brother,” she whispers, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. The truth sits heavy between them all, like the final stroke in a tale far too long in the making.

Banreas blinks in confusion, his gaze shifting between Solas and Isera, trying to make sense of it all. Solas confirms what Isera had told him, recounting his role in their world’s undoing. He explains how he created the Veil, locking away the false gods, and how in doing so, he had unwittingly destroyed the very essence of the elves he sought to protect. His new goal, he reveals, is to remove the Veil and return the world to what it once was.

Solas stands, stepping away from them, his back turned as if distancing himself from the weight of his own admission.

Banreas, still kneeling beside Isera, wipes dirt from his hands with a sharp exhale. His expression shifts, exhaustion mingling with an incredulous irritation and exhaustion. His brow arches as he mutters sarcastically, “Of course, you had children with Fen’harel. Why wouldn’t you?”

The dryness in his tone is matched by a sharp side-eye toward Isera, as if the entire situation is too absurd to be real, too overwhelming to even process properly. His biting remark lingers in the air, cutting through the tension with a mix of disbelief and bitterness.

Before he can say another word, Isera lets out a shriek and instinctively smacks him on the back of the head. Banreas rubs the back of his head, muttering a curse under his breath as he steps away from Isera, still not fully believing the absurdity of the situation.

Solas spins around, yet remains rooted in place, his eyes locked on Isera, wide with a flurry of emotions that she can barely register—shock, fear, concern… and something else she can’t quite place. His usually composed expression crumbles in an instant. “What?” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper. “Children?” Solas breathes out, his voice cracking slightly, as if the word itself was something too fragile to exist. His expression is a whirlwind of disbelief and, to Isera's surprise, something close to joy.

Isera’s heart pounds in her chest, the steady rhythm of her pulse deafening in her ears. This moment—this impossible, sudden moment—had never been part of her plan. She had fantasized about telling him, about how it might unfold, but nothing in her imagination could have prepared her for this.

Her eyes are wide, still locked on Solas. He stands frozen, shock and confusion written on his face, his earlier calm unraveling with each passing second. She can see the emotions warring behind his eyes—fear, concern, happiness—all tangled in a web of uncertainty.

Isera opens her mouth to speak but no sound comes out at first. The weight of the revelation is almost too much. Finally, she forces the words past her lips, her voice barely a whisper, “Y-yes… children.”

Solas blinks, staring at her in disbelief. “Children?” His voice trembles, as if even uttering the word threatens to break whatever fragile control he has left.

Isera swallows hard, her throat tight with emotion. “I… I tried to find you… to tell you.” Her words waver as she pushes herself to her feet, body trembling with anxiety and fear. Every movement feels like a monumental effort. She takes a shaky breath. “But I couldn’t reach you.” Isera whispers, her voice cracking under the strain. The truth had clawed at her for years, and now it hung in the air between them, fragile yet undeniable. She feels exposed, her vulnerability laid bare as she stands before him, every inch of her shaking. Solas doesn’t speak, but the look in his eyes says more than words ever could.

For the first time in what feels like ages, Solas is speechless, eyes locked onto her as if struggling to comprehend the gravity of what she’s just revealed. Solas doesn’t move. He simply stares at her in silence, absorbing the revelation, but she can see the depth of his turmoil—the battle between his longing and the weight of his mission.

The mirror behind Solas ripples, and Isera's eyes narrow in suspicion as a figure steps out from the swirling magic. She cranes her head to look past Solas, heart pounding in sudden alarm. ‘Is this his plan?’ she wonders, dread pooling in her gut. ‘Has he brought reinforcements to kill us?’

The figure saunters forward with a graceful, deliberate ease, their voice breaking through Isera’s thoughts, soft and lilting. “It has been too long since I have seen you both.” Isera’s breath catches in her throat. The voice… it’s too familiar, too impossible. She stares into the glowing blue-golden eyes of the figure approaching them, disbelief washing over her like a wave.

“Mother?” Banreas's voice breaks the silence, full of disbelief as he looks at the woman who steps forward, her presence commanding and ethereal. Eludysia smiles, and the warmth in her expression is unmistakable. “Hello, my son.” She halts a few steps before Solas, her eyes flickering with recognition as if no time had passed.

Isera feels her stomach churn. The woman before her is not the mother she left in Rivain, the small, wise healer hunched over ancient tomes, her hands worn from decades of grinding herbs. That woman had been frail, her curly, gray-streaked hair framing a face marked by time and study. She had once joked that the silver strands in her hair were threads of wisdom earned from years of learning.

But this woman—this version of Eludysia—was different. She stood tall, proud, with a statuesque frame. Her dark, curly hair, now free of gray, cascaded down her back, long and vibrant. Her blue-golden eyes shimmered with ancient knowledge, glinting with an otherworldly glee. Resting upon her brow was an ornate dragon’s skull, enchanted and powerful.

Solas steps aside, his head slightly bowed, his posture guarded as Eludysia approached. Confusion echoed in his usually composed gaze, a rare break in his carefully maintained stoicism. For once, even he did not have the answers.

“What…?” Solas mutters, echoing the bewilderment coursing through the moment. There was a chorus of confusion shared between him, Isera, and Banreas. None of them had expected this.

Eludysia, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the mystery of her presence. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned her gaze to Solas. "You have always been prideful, Dread Wolf. So arrogant that you did not even sense the old blood flowing through their veins," she teased, her voice laced with amusement, enjoying the rare moment where Solas was caught off guard.

Solas scowled, his brows knitting tightly. The tension in the air grew palpable, as if even the Fade held its breath, waiting for the truth to unravel.

Isera’s head shook in disbelief. “Old blood? You’re lying,” she snapped, her voice sharp with denial. “That’s not possible. I would remember. We would remember!” Her gaze darted to Banreas, still on his knees, weakened and equally stunned. His expression mirrored hers—confusion and uncertainty written across his face.

Eludysia sighed, her smile fading as she looked at Isera with something akin to regret. “You were five when the Veil began tearing our world apart,” she began softly. “I did what I had to, took us into a deep slumber as the Veil was torn. Your memory is fragmented, like broken shards of a mirror.”

Isera shakes her head vehemently, refusing to accept the implications of her mother’s words. “If what you’re saying is true, then Banreas would be a mage, and we would be immortal,” she counters, her voice laced with desperation, clinging to logic as though it were the last anchor holding her reality together.

Eludysia frowns, her expression softening with a sadness that runs deep. “You are immortal, Isera. You’ve always been connected to the Fade. That connection remains, though part of your power is locked behind the Veil,” she explains, her voice a gentle rebuke against Isera's denial. Then, a thoughtful hum escapes her lips. “It would have been better if you had borne the mark. It was never meant for a mortal…” Her gaze shifts to Banreas, who is still kneeling, worn and struggling under the weight of the revelations.

Turning to him, Eludysia’s voice wavers, guilt evident in her tone. “Your lack of magical ability and immortality is my fault, my son.” Her words are heavy with regret. “Banreas, you were not blessed with the same gift as your sister. When the Veil was tearing the world apart, I was injured and dying. I did not have the strength, the energy to protect us all during our slumber… I failed you,” she confesses, her voice breaking, pain seeping into each word. “I’m sorry.”

Isera’s heart pounded, a distant pain flickering in the edges of her mind, memories just out of reach. “A slumber?” she whispered, her voice shaky, as if testing the words. Her mind raced with questions, with possibilities she couldn’t quite grasp.

The tension in the air grows thick as Eludysia’s sorrowful gaze turns to Solas, her regret transforming into a sharp glare. “Did you not tell her of the ability she possesses? Or were you too blind to make that connection yourself?” Her words are a biting accusation, her tone sharp and filled with reproach as she directs her ire at the Dread Wolf.

Solas’s eyes darkened, unreadable emotions swirling beneath his calm facade, but his silence spoke volumes. Whatever Eludysia had revealed had shaken even him. Solas’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t immediately respond. He meets her glare, though his eyes betray the burden of knowledge he carries.

Solas pulls back slightly, his gaze narrowing with interest as he processes Eludysia’s words. “She’s an i've'an'amelan? A protector of the Fade?” The disbelief in his voice is palpable, his expression a mixture of surprise and incredulity. “That is impossible. They... didn’t survive. I determined that the separation between the two worlds caused their minds to collapse. They were more intrinsically connected to the Fade than almost any other.”

Eludysia shrugs dismissively, her glare unwavering. “Those who entered uthenera survived, Dread Wolf.” Her tone is sharp, tinged with a scorn that hasn’t faded with time. “Isera is untrained, yes, but the blood of protectors flows through her veins. Their father was the best of them, and he died trying to stop the horror you caused.” Her words slice through the air, dripping with resentment as she continues to glare at him, the bitterness of old wounds resurfacing.

“If only you had waited—asked for help…” She shakes her head, her voice laden with a sorrow that has never healed. The memory of the past seems to grip her tightly, and for a moment, there is a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “You might not have torn everything apart.”

Solas bows his head under the weight of her accusation, his expression betraying the guilt he still carries. The memory stirs something deep within him, a regret that has lingered for millennia, now brought to the forefront by Eludysia's words.

Eludysia looks around, her expression calming as she regains her composure. “I predicted we would need as many i've'an'amelan as possible when we awoke to restore what was lost,” she continues, her voice more measured now. She glances at Solas before focusing on Isera. “Surely, your memories have been returning since you began wearing the circlet?”

Isera’s fingers instinctively reach for the circlet resting on her head. “How do you know about that?” she demands, a knot of distrust tightening in her chest. She’s not ready to believe what she’s hearing—this revelation about her bloodline, her past, her mother’s role in it all.

Eludysia’s laughter breaks the tension, a knowing sound that only makes Isera more uneasy. Her hands rest confidently on her hips, head cocked to one side as she regards her daughter. “Child, how do you think the Inquisition agents found it in the first place?” She shakes her head, bemused. “It was mine. I am a high priestess of Mythal.” The weight of her words presses down on Isera, the reality of what her mother is saying sinking in deeper.

Isera blinks, her mind reeling as she covers her face with her hands. Everything feels too overwhelming—the father of her children is Fen’harel, her mother a high priestess of Mythal, and they are not just elves, but elvhen—one of the ancients. It’s too much, and the weight of these revelations presses down on her like a suffocating fog.

Eludysia, with a serene smile, turns away from Solas and approaches Isera’s children, her arms open wide. “Children, I want you to come with us,” she says warmly, her voice filled with a strange, eerie calm. “You are one of us. You need to help.”

Isera notices Solas stiffen, his eyes narrowing into slits. Though he says nothing, his silent fury is palpable, his body taut as if ready to strike. The tension in the air thickens as Eludysia continues, oblivious—or perhaps uncaring—of Solas’s reaction.

Banreas lets out a sudden, boisterous laugh, a mix of disbelief and pain. “I am not one of you,” he declares, his voice weak but defiant. “This is my world. There are other ways to restore what was lost, but not… not that.” His words are gritted through clenched teeth, and Isera can see the mark on his hand throbbing more violently. Time is running out for him.

Isera lowers her hands and shakes her head firmly, but her emotions churn in a storm of guilt, regret, and desire. Torn between the pull of her past—her love for Solas, the revelations of her heritage, and the call to join her mother—and the fierce bond she has with her daughters, she feels herself fracturing.

Her voice is steady, but the weight of her inner conflict is clear. “Your plan to restore your world could kill my daughters—and I will not leave my children.” The words leave her lips with a determined finality, though inside, the turmoil rages. She cannot deny that had she not borne her daughters, the path before her would be different. Without them, she would follow her mother into this ancient cause, or chase after Solas, the Dread Wolf, to the ends of Thedas. But now, with her daughters, she feels an inescapable tether to this life—a bond stronger than any temptation from the past.

Eludysia frowns, her eyebrows raising in surprise, unaware of the recent offspring. “You...had children?” Her voice carries a hint of confusion and hurt. The realization washes over her as she sighs, nodding in understanding, though the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes betrays her emotions. It is clear this revelation shifts her perspective, a complication she hadn't anticipated.

Solas exhales sharply, cutting through the moment with a tone of urgency. “This is my burden,” he declares with resolve, his gaze hardening. “You should be concerned about your Inquisition. You halted the Qunari forces, but their perception of your involvement is...complicated.” He pauses, eyes narrowing as he explains the fallout. “The Qunari believed the Inquisition was working for me. With luck, you may have a few years of peace before the consequences of that assumption catch up with you.” His words carry the weight of the conflict still to come, a reminder that while they may have slowed the Qunari, the storm is far from over.

Solas’s words slice through the air, heavy with both revelation and consequence. "Do you want to know how I uncovered the Qunari plot? The one I disrupted by leading them to your doorstep?" His gaze sharpens as he continues. "My spies in the Inquisition tripped over their spies. The elven guard who intercepted the servant carrying the Gatlok barrel? Mine."

Banreas, visibly frustrated and struggling with the weight of the situation, speaks up with impatience lacing his voice, “And now you control all of the eluvian?”

Solas nods, his expression unreadable. “Yes. Do you remember Briala from Halamshiral? She controlled them for a time, but only partially. The Qunari stumbled upon this network independently.”

Isera stands frozen, her heart pounding as she watches Solas kneel beside her brother, his expression a mask of dread. She recalls the offer from Briala regarding the elven fortress in the Dales. The memory of the proposal, once burdened with political weight, now fills her with an unexpected sense of relief. The fortress had been a gamble, a risk laden with uncertainty, but in this moment, she is grateful she accepted it.

Banreas winces, the mark on his arm glowing dangerously, sending erratic bolts of magic spiraling upward. He grunts, his body dragged helplessly by the surging power of the anchor, which pulses and burns like a living thing.

"And this anchor?" Banreas grits through his teeth, raising his trembling arm. "It's getting worse." Solas’s face hardens, shadows of guilt and sorrow crossing his features. “I know, my friend,” he whispers, his voice low, full of pain. “And we are running out of time.”

The magic surges again, a burst of chaotic energy shooting from the mark, forcing Banreas to the ground with a groan. Solas reaches down, his hand hovering over the mark, but it’s clear even his ancient knowledge and power are strained by the destructive force at play.

“The mark was never meant for a mortal,” Solas murmurs, his voice weighed with regret. “It will eventually kill you. Drawing you here gave me the chance to save you… at least for now.”

Isera feels her throat tighten, her hands clenching at her sides as she watches the scene unfold, helpless. Solas’s words echo in her mind: ‘save you... at least for now’. The reality of what they were up against was becoming clearer with every flare of the mark, and every moment, the truth solidified—there was no escaping what Solas had set into motion.

“Solas, var lath ver suledin, ma vhenan!” Isera pleads, her voice trembling as she rushes toward him, latching onto his arm. Her desperation is palpable, clinging to the hope that her words might somehow sway him. Solas looks down at her, his face etched with pain and sorrow, but he remains silent, burdened by the weight of his decision.

Banreas cries out again, the mark flaring violently as his body convulses. The destructive magic surges through him, threatening to consume what is left. Solas’s eyes glow with ancient power, and the mark begins to fade, piece by piece, as the magic is reabsorbed into the Fade. Banreas’ hand slowly vanishes, dissolving into nothingness, leaving only the scars of the battle he never asked for.

Solas steps closer to Isera, his hand trembling as he gently brushes a strand of hair away from her tear-streaked face. “Ma vhenan...”he whispers, his voice barely audible, laden with sorrow. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, a fleeting moment of tenderness amid the chaos. “Ar ame ir abelas�� he breathes, his forehead resting against hers as her silent sobs escape. I am so sorry.

Isera clings to him, her heart breaking as she fights to hold onto the moment, but Solas gently pulls away. She resists, her fingers tightening around his arm, refusing to let go. “Vya isalan na,” she whispers through her tears, her voice cracking with the weight of her grief. They need you.

Solas hesitates, his gaze filled with regret and an unbearable sadness. He gives her one last sorrowful look, full of everything he cannot say, before turning away. He still doesn’t answer, leaving Isera standing there, alone with her pain, as he walks into the shadows of the Fade.

Isera reluctantly lets go of his arm, her fingers brushing the fabric as he walks away, never turning back. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared as he stands by the eluvian, waiting for Eludysia to join him.

Eludysia pauses, turning to face her children with a serene smile, her palms open in a gesture of warmth. "I am proud of you both. You’ve done the People proud," she says softly before stepping toward Solas.

Isera watches them disappear into the shimmering surface of the mirror. Her heart wrenches as the eluvian fades to gray, the magic dissolving until it is nothing but a mirror and stone once more. She fights the overwhelming urge to chase after them, feeling as though a part of her has followed them through the eluvian.

---

Banreas brought the Inquisition to an end that night with a bold, decisive act. He let the heavy tome—symbolic of their authority—fall to the floor with a resounding thud that echoed through the chamber. The weight of the gesture was impossible to ignore, causing an immediate ripple of shock among the gathered nobility. Gasps and murmurs filled the air as the room stirred in disbelief, eyes following Banreas as he turned and strode out without a word, leaving a trail of confusion and uncertainty in his wake.

However, Banreas was certain of one thing—his decision to disband the Inquisition was a calculated effort to keep corruption at bay. The organization had grown too large, too entangled in the political webs of Orlais and Ferelden. By scaling it down, he could prevent the rot from spreading further. But there was another, more personal reason behind his choice. Hidden beneath the official rhetoric, Banreas harbored a quiet resolve: a smaller, more focused group could be better equipped to stop Solas before his plans came to fruition.

Isera swiftly maneuvers through the sea of murmuring nobles following the abrupted announcement, her eyes locking on Briala, who stands apart from the chaos with a watchful, detached gaze. As Isera approaches, Briala’s brows rise in mild surprise, but a knowing glint lights her eyes.

“We must meet, sooner than expected,” Isera says, her voice low but firm, glancing briefly over her shoulder at the unfolding commotion.

Briala's lips curve into a subtle smile, one of understanding and anticipation. “Indeed,” she responds softly, her tone laced with the unspoken intricacies of their shared plans. Without further words, Briala nods and turns gracefully, slipping away from the court like a shadow, leaving Isera to linger a moment longer before following suit.

---

The Inquisition members returned to Skyhold under the cover of night, and despite their late arrival, the downsizing began almost immediately. The halls that once echoed with purpose were now eerily quiet, as if the heart of the Inquisition had already begun to fade.

Isera cradled Sora against her chest, the child's soft breathing a comfort in the stillness. Veira, however, remained wide awake, her little hands gripping at her mother’s tunic as they made their way back to the clinic. Exhaustion pulled at Isera’s every step, her body heavy with the weight of the past few days. Upon reaching the clinic, she sighed deeply, locking the door behind her for a moment of reprieve.

The clinic, so familiar and usually safe, now feels foreign. As she turned to head upstairs, something caught her eye—aged, unfamiliar books placed haphazardly on her potion desk. She had seen these kinds of tomes before—old, powerful, and dangerous. Isera froze, her heart skipping a beat. These weren’t hers, they weren’t the ones she brought back from the crossroads, nor were they anything she had ever seen within the Inquisition's collection. The leather spines, worn and cracked with age, whispered of secrets long hidden, and her pulse quickened with suspicion.

Her chest tightens as she ascends the stairs, gripping Veira's small hand. “Come, Veira,” she urged softly, guiding her daughter up the steps, a growing unease settling in her chest as memories of the eluvian resurfaced in her mind. She couldn’t shake the image of the eluvian in the prayer room from her mind. Solas had walked through one, gone in an instant. Could another threat have followed in his wake? Her heart pounds louder, as if to warn her of unseen dangers lurking.

"Come, Veira," she whispers again, her voice steady but her thoughts anything but calm. Every creak of the stairs feels like a signal of something watching. Isera glances back at the books one last time before hurrying her daughter into the upper room. Her eyes sweep the room. Nothing feels amiss up here, yet the air is heavy, thick with the kind of magic she has grown all too familiar with since her time with Solas.

"Vehnan..." Solas’s voice is a soft murmur that cuts through the quiet of the clinic. Isera freezes mid-step, her heart thundering in her chest. From her position on the stairs, she looks up at him—Solas, not Fen’harel, standing there in the simple clothes he used to wear. Gone was the imposing figure, glittering in the armor of legend. Here, before her, was the man she once knew, and he looked vulnerable, afraid, almost as uncertain as she felt.

His gaze drops to the floor, shame casting shadows across his features. His hands fidget at his sides, fingers twitching nervously as if unsure of their place. “I had to see them…” he whispers, barely lifting his eyes to meet hers. There’s a tremor in his voice, an uncertainty that he rarely allowed himself to show.

Isera doesn’t move. She feels the weight of a thousand possibilities swirling in her chest, each one more terrifying than the last. What if he tries to take them? What if he’s here to tear apart the fragile life she’s built? But she nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She doesn’t know what to do, and her fear matches his. She can see it in his posture, in the way he hesitates, as though he’s unsure if he’s even welcome here. For a moment, they stand in silence, caught between the past and the future, both uncertain of where to go from here.

Isera takes a deep, steadying breath, pushing down the tremor of fear and uncertainty that gnaws at her. Slowly, she crosses the room and kneels beside Solas, offering a small smile despite the tension. "Ahn mar melin?" Solas asks Veira gently, his eyes soft. What is your name.

Veira stares up at him, her chubby fingers wrapped around the hem of her mother’s cloak. She tilts her head, her young mind working to understand the unfamiliar words, before her lips part with a shy smile.

“Ma'melin Veira,” she says proudly, her voice small but full of confidence as she looks between her mother and Solas. Solas’s eyes light up with emotion, his expression tender. “Veira…” he repeats softly, as though trying the name out for the first time, his voice filled with reverence. He looks up at Isera, a hint of awe in his gaze, and nods slightly, his heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

Solas shifts, his posture softening as he kneels to meet Veira’s gaze. “Savhalla…”His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with awe and apprehension as he sees his daughter for the first time. Hello.

Veira's auburn hair is tousled, her shirt stained with remnants of treats from their long journey back to Skyhold. Isera hadn’t the time to tidy her up; everything had been a rush, an effort to escape the weight of the Winter Palace. Veira looks up at her mother with curious, wide eyes before pointing a small finger at Solas. “Na’ise babae.” Isera says softly. He is your father.

Solas’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes widening in surprise as he glances up at Isera, unsure of how to respond. He hesitates, his emotions tangling in the moment. Veira glances up at her mother, confusion and curiosity clouding her small face as she tries to understand the man now kneeling before her. She tugs on Isera’s sleeve, her wide eyes searching for reassurance.

“Babae?” Veira asks softly, her tiny voice questioning the presence of the man she’s just learned is her father.

Solas’s breath hitches, his heart caught in the moment. He can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the childlike need to understand. He looks to Isera, waiting for her to lead this fragile moment, unsure of how much he can claim this new role, if he can at all.

Isera’s throat tightens as she kneels beside Veira, brushing a stray lock of auburn hair from her daughter's face. “Vin, Veira, ma vhen'an,” Isera whispers, her voice warm and steady despite the heaviness in her chest. Yes, Veira, my heart.

“Na’ise babae.” He is your father.

Solas lowers his gaze for a moment, his heart weighed down by guilt and longing. When he looks up, he gently holds out his hand, the simple gesture filled with quiet hope. Veira hesitates, glancing between her mother and Solas again, before taking a small, uncertain step closer to him. She reaches out, her tiny fingers brushing against his hand, her touch delicate and curious.

Solas smiles, his eyes shimmering with emotion. "Babae," he repeats quietly, his voice almost breaking, as though the word itself carries the weight of worlds. For a brief second, the room feels smaller, the weight of what’s been lost and gained lingering in the air between them. Solas’s hand trembles slightly as he reaches out, still in disbelief, to gently touch Veira’s cheek.

Solas opens his arms, and without hesitation, Veira rushes into his embrace. Isera had spent countless nights telling her daughters stories of their father—the elven apostate who aided the Inquisition, the man who helped save their uncle, and the one who was so deeply passionate about the elven people and their history that he would one day share those tales with them himself.

Solas lifts Veira gently, his heart swelling as she begins to play with his cheeks, her small hands exploring his face as she babbles in her own language. A quiet chuckle escapes him, the innocence of the moment softening the sharp edges of his inner turmoil.

"And what is her name?" Solas asks, nodding toward Sora, who stands watching them with wide, curious eyes. His voice is hesitant, almost as though he's afraid to step closer, unsure of the boundaries after so long apart. But the pull is undeniable—his family is here, in this room.

Isera’s eyes glisten as she watches the scene unfold. She had prepared herself for many things, but not this—seeing Solas so vulnerable, so tender with their daughter. She turns to Sora, who has been quietly observing from her place, one hand clutching the hem of Isera's tunic.

“This is Sora,” Isera answers softly, giving the little girl a gentle nudge forward. “She’s a little more shy… but just as curious.” Sora, who had been fast asleep against her mother’s chest, had quietly awoken at some point during the interaction. Her wide, sleepy eyes blink up at Solas as she clutches her mother’s tunic with tiny fists, still groggy but alert. She peers at him with curiosity, her small brow furrowing slightly, as if trying to piece together the world she’s woken into.

Solas watches her with soft reverence, lowering himself slowly to her level. "Ma'vhenan," he whispers gently, his hand extending toward her in quiet invitation. His expression is a delicate mix of longing and tenderness, his eyes filled with an almost unbearable emotion.

Sora gazes at him, her tiny fingers inching closer toward his outstretched hand. There’s a moment of hesitation as she studies him, her innocence untangling the emotions she senses but can’t yet name. Finally, her small hand reaches forward, brushing against his, a fleeting but significant connection.

Solas smiles warmly, the bond slowly forming with both of his daughters, though a storm of emotions brews just beneath the surface—guilt, joy, and sorrow, all wrapped together. But in this moment, he lets himself feel only the love he had feared would never be his to experience.

Isera smiles, her voice soft and filled with love. “She’s like you. She likes to sleep a lot.” She jokes gently, trying to ease the weight of the moment. She turns and sits on the edge of the bed, motioning for him to join her with Veira still in his arms.

Solas hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching her face for permission before he steps forward and carefully sits beside her, Veira nestled in his lap. Isera glances at him, the warmth of the moment overshadowed by the ache she’s carried for so long.

“I tried to find you,” she whispers, her voice breaking with the rawness of emotion she’s held back for years. “To tell you. I would never keep them from you…” Tears stream down her face, each one carrying the weight of every moment she’d thought he was lost to her.

She never thought this day would come, never thought she would see him sitting beside her with their children. And now, here he is—finally—meeting them. Her heart feels painfully full, torn between the deep ache of missing him and the overwhelming love she still holds for him. She chokes back a sob, her chest tightening.

“I know, vhenan,” Solas whispers, tears finally spilling from his eyes as he holds Veira close. He wraps his free arm around Isera, pulling her into him. “I know.” His lips press a soft kiss against her temple before he leans his head against hers.

Isera closes her eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth beside her, the familiar scent of him—musky, earthy, grounding—the gentle sound of his breathing filling the room. She breathes him in, a bittersweet comfort after so long apart.

“I won’t stop you from seeing them. Not even now,” she tells him, her voice steady with resolve. And she meant it. She grew up without knowing her father, and no matter how painful or complicated things were, she wants their daughters to know him, to feel his love.

They settle against the headboard, their sleeping children nestled between them as the moon casts a silver glow through the window. Solas moves carefully to lay Veira down, and Isera follows, placing Sora beside her sister. Both toddlers sleep soundly, unaware of the world’s weight that rests on their parents' shoulders.

Solas turns to Isera, reaching for her, his eyes filled with sorrow and longing. “I must go,” he says quietly, wrapping his arms around her once more. Isera can feel the tension in his body, the burden he carries pressing heavily on him.

She nods, wiping her tears against his sleeve, her heart heavy with the knowledge that he will leave again. “Be careful,” she whispers, her voice barely holding together. She wanted to beg, to plead for him to stay—to let go of the past and the burdens he carried. But she didn’t.

The words caught in her throat, swallowed by the weight of everything unspoken between them. She knew he couldn't, that asking him to stay would be asking him to give up who he was, and perhaps who he needed to be. The urge to hold onto him, to keep him close, burned within her, but she stifled it, knowing this wasn't the time. It never was.

Solas held her gaze for a moment longer, his hand still resting on hers, as if he too wanted to say something more, to offer a promise he could not keep. Instead, he only gave her a final, fleeting smile, bittersweet and full of regret.

He pauses, holding her hand tightly in his, his gaze softening as he looks at her. “For them... I will try,” he promises. Then, with a swift motion, Solas shifts into a small black bird with striking blue eyes and flies out of the window, disappearing into the night.

Isera stood at the window long after he had disappeared, her heart aching with the weight of all the words she hadn’t said, and the hope she clung to, no matter how fragile. For now, she will hold onto the moment they had, and the hope that he might return again, for her and their daughters.

What Isera did not realize was the profound effect she had on Solas, how her presence unknowingly shaped his every choice. Though he walked a path veiled in shadow, her light illuminated the way forward. The Dread Wolf, once lost in the darkness, now looked to the moon—his love—to guide him through the unknown. As the moon rises, the Dread Wolf’s path becomes clearer, illuminated by the very light he never anticipated possessing.

#solas #solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas x female lavellan #solas x oc #solas dragon age #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solas x inquisitor #solavellan hell #isera lavellan #As the Moon Rises #vir writes #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #dav

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honeybeewhereartthee · 2 years ago

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Crystal Hearts

Prequel PT3: you and me

➽───Previous───CH15────Next───❥

"Ahaha~ hold my hand. Everything would be fine~"

As you step on the edge and giving a hand to offer to him, he hesitates before he sighs, and he slowly held your hand.

" Fine. "

He sighs after he realizes he cannot be a chicken about it anymore.

" amazing decision, my dear friend~!!"

You pulled him to circle your hands around his waist, causing him to blush before you step back away from the little space that hinder you two from falling into the sky below.

"Hey!"

He wants to complain about not warning him beforehand but remember that this is not the first try. You did warn him earlier.

[Motto yokubatte gokigen ni tobimawaren ~]

You felt something poof out of the top of your head and tiger tail behind you to waggle in joy as you copy Rinne voice yet again. His eyes widen at the sight of it. The time slow down as you activite a skill that can freeze and your power over time. To slow it down for the two of you.

[ O-omoikiri tobimawaren ]

After taking a deep breath, be finally follow along, as he said those. His clear wings of a bee appear behind him and antenna on top of his head, he was shocked as he is finally able to do this time around as he secure his hold on you.

[ Kanjiatte ikou ze ]

Smirking you return the speed of time to it's normal flow causing you two to fall a bit faster than earlier.

[ zokuzoku suru youna ]

Taking a deep breath. He takes the sensation of thrill he felt from the wind blowing, his Wings start to flatter. Soon the two of stop falling and soaring through the sky.

[ Shunkan ga ii ne]

You giggle as you look up to him. He smiles as he can't believe he did it this time. (Good job.) You told him through telepathy. ( Don't worry about people looking. We're invisible at the moment. So go Ham I guess. ) You added.

[ BET! Omae wa douda !?]

Grinning with a sense of trump, he test the limit of what he could do now, he speeds up. Zooming to the wide sky with the hint of the color of his hair and outfit being seen in a straight line.

The laughter's and giggle from the two of you as you enjoy the fun trip. He felt so happy.

It has been a couple of months since you and him meet again. You keep meeting each other in the same place, the park.

The most strange things was that, he was never question what's his name is. But then again you never use a name when addressing him, since there's only the two of you. He wondered if you even know his name.

"... Ya seem to be in a deep thought those days. Care to share?" His father ask him while they are eating in the family dinner. He has been looking through his phone thinking about when you'll appear in the park tomorrow, or where you are right now.

Since you don't meet up with him today. You don't have a form of communication to him but the link you guys have telepathically. Through it's only connected when you guys are a mile or less from each other.

"They haven't showing up recently..." His words are barely audible to his father as his too embarrassed to be heard complaining about such matter. "Oh? It's so odd that your now obsess with a new person. Ahaha. Have you move on from your first love?" His father takes a bite of a very familiar sweet in front of his son eyes, as he questioned this to him.

"..." Kohaku eyes twitch at the mention of Love-Swan friend. "I don't know..." He sighs. Through something process in his mind just now. "AHHH! THAT'S MY LAST ONE!!" he points at the sweet that his father stolen from his secret box that he swear he hid from his father sight.

"Ahaha. That's what you get for letting your properties free to be stolen by others, my boy. " His father swiftly stop his son from getting vengeance from stealing his food.

"AHHH! DAD, THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU FREE TO STEAL MY FOOD! ԅ( ͒ ۝ ͒ )ᕤ" he points it out as he tried to attack his father but failed as his father is quick with his steps.

"MINE! IT'S MINE!" As he and his father enter a sparing season with his childish tantrum. His father just laugh at him.

"Ohoho? Trying to test if you can take your old man now...?" His father chuckle at him causing him to be more annoyed plus that his annoyed by something recently.

He look at his father, more like glaring at him as he analyzes his next set of thoughts.

[ Risky Venus ]

He mumbles under his breath, his old man raise a brow at him but isn't able to hear the spell quite well or realize he just cast one.

[ Risky Venus ]

He position himself to run toward his dad to get revenge, he can feel himself showing antenna. His father tilt his head in amusement as he realize something is up.

[ Risky Venus!!]

With zooming speed he was gone from where he was standing and send a punch to his dad gut, making em back away from where his standing, and manage to get the remaining haft of the sweet he clearly own!

"Ahaha! I won!" He chuckle happily as he eat his price with trump. His now visible wings flattering behind him in glee as he enjoy his sweet. Through with this spell, a flower crown appear on top of his head. It bloom when he felt so happy like right now, they all blooming in sunny yellow out of glee.

"Agh... Kids those days..." The head of Oukawa can't help but chuckle as he just get pretty badly just now, he can't help but be proud how his son have to grown up so fast!

" Kohaku... What's that? " His eyes widen as he saw a new feature on his son, like him his daughter notice it too yet doesn't comment to it yet.

"What? I'm not forgiving you for what you did!" The flower unbloom in distasteful at his father but once again bloom when he focus on the taste of the sweet. "Ahaha~ so delicious... ~" he sigh happily as he turn his back on his dad.

"..." His father glance at his son in worry, his eyes narrowed as he realize something. "That 'friend' of yours... Is a fae?" His purple eyes stared down at his stupid young son, who realize that his father is staring at him with gaze he give when doing family work.

"... What?" Kohaku turn to look at his father, he was confused why his father know that. He thought his father is oblivious of what they are.

"Your mangling with a fae this whole time?"He can sense disappointment from his father eyes and the tone of voice he cannot determine the emotions.

"... What's wrong with that?" The flowers quickly wither, it becomes vine like crown, the wither petals slowly burn into flames as it fall into the floor and into nothing. He doesn't understand what's up with father. What is wrong to do so?!

"Your not allowed to meet up with them." His old man decided as he turned his back on his son. Not explaining further into details causing his son to be frustrated from such instructions and orders.

"What? Why!?" He wanted to question his father as the vines slowly grow black thorns. "Why can't I? Are you going to make me lock me up in this place again...? " He take a deep breath as he composed himself, his fist all clenching as he's gritting his teeth in anger.

"You will, if you still meet up with that fae."

" 'that'? " He frown at the distasteful tone he hear from his father voice. " Their name is MC!" He grumble, he cannot believe his father tone would change when he learn mc is a fae!

"MC? a fae told you their name...." His father eyes widen in surprised as he stop on his feet.

" Isn't it normal for people to introduce themselves? Ah? but I wasn't able to do so... They never ask for my name..." He mumble the last part in embarrassment, the thorns slowly have a little pink flower as he thought of them.

"... Huh. This is the same person who defeated you?" He saw an odd smile starting to appear on his father face.

"W-well... They aren't human..." He cover his face in embarrassment, the flowers bloom in pink as he remembers that moment.

"Oho... This is interesting... A fae told you their name. Even when they defeated you..."

" Hey! No need to repeat that... (｡・//ε//・｡)"

" Okii. I'll give you a week to a month for you to bring your fae here, willingly. "

" What? What for? Are you going to sell them out to the main branch? " Kohaku don't like the amusement on his father eyes, his worries can be seen clearly on his face causing his father further more laughter's to come out.

"Ahaha. Your so silly." His father approach him and pat his head, very amuse at his son oblivious or fake innocent.

"Let me see how good they are in the arena." With a smirk on his face, it all drown to kohaku what his father meant.

"... N-no way... I thought ya would not follow that thing!" Even through he was bewailed and cannot believe his father words, variety of different red shades of roses slowly bloom on his flower crown.

"T-the tradition is s-stupid!" He yelled out as he run away, afraid to be seen with his emotion shown in full bloom.

"Ahahaha. Kids those days..." His father laugh as he watch his son run away.

"Father... Is it really ok...? Aren't we ..." The oldest of his daughter finally spoke out. "Hm. I was going to make sure our little core fae would be keep a secret. Not interacting with other faes even our own main branch except for their cousin."

" Then what change your mind?"

" That fae friend of there's is teaching them magic, from what I see. It's a dark fae type..." He mumble. " Ah. That's right. The fae have the same dark fae tendency as my darling wife. So they most be a dark fae ... Kohaku won't be in danger then... Maybe it's just his calling." He sigh happily as he realize his child have found his own spring time.

" I just hope, he won't be stupid through... He already lost one time to a friend of his, in terms of love." He cant help but pity his son obliviousness.

"father is a light fae, but act like a dark fae." His second daughter giggle.

" Ahahaha~ my silly children. You should know, I'm still haft of a human. A human can be cruel and petty creature than a dark fae. Because we are swallowed and can be overwhelmed by our desire and to sin for our happiness." His purple eyes swirl in madness as he chuckle. " My boy should learn to keep his fae in check... Or else some people would steal them away." It be too late when that time comes.

➽───────note────────❥

Risky Venus 3x -> can enhance your speed and your straight at least in the percentage you want too. But it will make your emotion show in full bloom

Also they are training for couple of months before the first part ok.

(if want to be tagged pls comment or Send mail) Tag List : @valeriele3 @yinenovica

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstar x reader #enstar #kohaku oukawa x reader #crystal Hearts AU #Crystal Hearts AU You and me #Oukawa Kohaku x reader #kohaku Oukawa

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booksdaydream · 1 year ago

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The Blind Rider Ch15

FEELINGS

You tilted your head, watching her carefully. Her eyes seemed upset as if she was considering something devastating coming out of something that was once lovely. You took her hand again, “Poppy…” She shook her head strongly.

“I mean, I trusted him. With my situation, then with my secrets. You know, my quest became so much more complicated, and he was still willing to help, that’s when we ended up dealing with that dragon I mentioned. And then...” She started with a sad tone, her eyes welling up in tears again. “I trusted him with my feelings.”

Her tone was quiet and sad, disappointed at herself for feeling that way. You tried keeping a straight face, not to seem surprised she was admitting to liking him more than a friend. Finally. She sighed loudly, her tears drying up as she looked at you with a frown.

“Laugh as much as you want! Of course, you knew. But I’ve come to develop romantic feelings for him.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

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*No reproduction of this text allowed without credit*

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crescentsteel · 3 years ago

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hi hi hello! i just read ch15 of keeping a secret and i wanted to talk about the ending (and a couple more thingies) if you dont mind !!(also please excuse my grammatical errors, i wrote this at 2am and i was kind of tired)

You two haven’t started anything yet but he can already feel how badly stuck he is in the quicksand of loving you. He will have to actively compose himself so his gaze doesn’t linger, so he doesn’t crave to touch you. He will have to stop himself from saying something that will earn him one of your wisecracks and cheeky smile that he accidentally fell in love with. Why do you have to be so annoying and charming? He’ll be able to handle annoying … No, not really. But he would very much prefer to be annoyed than enamored with someone he cannot have.

i was internally SCREAMING WHILE READING THIS! it was just so good and i feel like the characterisation here is just so on point. this idk it just feels so real and my heart hurts because "he would very much prefer to be annoyed than enamored with 💔someone💔he💔cannot💔 have💔"

okay but to be fair i feel kind of bad for tsukishima. i mean he was being a dick in the earlier chapters but grrrr idk. maybe its me being biased by him being my fav character or just because i (sort of) understand his position and why he acted the way he did (although i still feel like he might have overreacted a bit but that's only because he kind of panicked when y/n told him that she loved him).

He’s never told you before, but he loves you. He’s been sure of it since that night at your doorway where he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. He’s been reserved about it because he wants it to come from you first. As cowardly as that seems, he thinks that that would be best for you.

shut up shut up shut up! that's so cute :(( the fact that kuroo realised he loved y/n the night they got together is just aghhhh i cant even express the emotions im feeling rn! and him not wanting to be the one to say it first because he thinks that she is not ready to hear it just yet is just :((

If it was all up to him, the relationship would’ve moved faster. He’d be asking you to move in already. He is that serious about you. You two are adults with crazy hectic schedules. Living together will make things hella easier. Although he enjoys picking you up from work and taking you to your apartment occasionally, he’d very much prefer if you go home to him every night.

speechless. punching the air. hugging my knees. crying a river. drenching my pillows rn.

he’s so cute i wanna throw a brick at him. I’ve probably had a sappy smile on my face but that’s okay bc this is just so sweet and heartwarming literally shutup. the fact that he doenst want to rush things for her and respects her boundaries and such EVEN THOUGH he wants to get to 'the next level' does things to me.

He doesn’t know if you realize how successful you are with the program because your tiny milestones are initiated to be celebrated by him, not you.

stop this madness. this almost made me tear up and dont ask me why,, i have literally no idea. this is so sickeningly cute i just pictured him celebrating y/n's tiny milestones with her and grrrr >:(

when will it be my turn huh🤨? when🤨?

And until you’ve figured out what you really want, he’ll wait. He won’t add this relationship on your to-do list by telling you his feelings and desire to move in with you because he knows that even though you don’t go home to him, there’s no one else but him.

kuroo tetsurou kiss me challenge. he is so cute i want to hug him and stroke his hair and kiss his forehead and bake him a cake and- sigh :( ~~~~~~ i loved this chapter so much!! but i chose to talk about these paragraphs because i didnt want to ramble a lot or make you read a whole essay on an anonymous ask so yeah. anyway what i wanted to say is that,, i feel really bad for tsukishima because he finally realised his feelings for y/n but the moment he tried to make up with her and maybe try again h found out that she is dating someone else. but honestly?? i REALLYYY dont want kuroo to get hurt and break up with y/n because idk she made up with tsukki and shit because he is such a sweetheart! and hif feeling for her are sincere and genuine and grrrrr >:( it's so complicated all of a sudden :( anyway babe hope youre alright and youre taking good care of yourself! bye bye👋~

I deliberately let this stay in my asks because I loved how long it is! I love it when u guys point out the little thinks you liked because bets believe that each word and phrase is carefully thought out.

ALSO, yes about Tsukishima being panicked that time. I didnt want to spell it out but that's exactly it. His brain just closed and the walls were up all of a sudden hence dick behavior.

But oop, Kuroo is now in the picture and can I just say how much I love writing for him. It just feels natural. Hence, it feels complicated for me too. I immerse myself in my fics and I agree that everythings so complicated hnnn

Take care of yourself too! Hnn. See you next chapter hopefully.

#jeanie answers #keeping a secret ch15

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lavenoon · 2 years ago

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Cryptid Sightings Art Masterlist

If you're new here, go read Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse I cannot recommend it enough. I've done a bit of art for it ("a bit"), so here's the list:

*will keep this updated

*spoilers are marked, except for chapter 1 spoilers as I assume that as baseline knowledge

Comics:

Demon behind you. (reveal centered, spoilers for up until but especially ch4)

Steady, Heart (reveal centered)

Y/N's scary thing (reveal centered)

New day (post-reveal centered)

Favorite (post-reveal centered)

We clear the Path (post-reveal centered, spoilers up until ch4)

Bird Bully (post-reveal centered)

Worst Case Scenario (*warnings for blood and death)

Hands (post-reveal centered)

Subtle (and bonus isolated lovestruck boys)

Cryptid Selfie (post-reveal centered)

"Fixed" PJs (ch5 spoilers)

Rude Awakening (ch5 spoilers)

Three names

Cryptid!Y/N

They know. (post-reveal centered, spoilers for ch6)

Clever, heart. (ch7 spoilers)

Oops! Trauma (ch8 spoilers)

Their cryptid loves them. (ch8/ The lost Episode spoilers)

Hello :) (ch9 spoilers)

Promise || Trick (ch10 spoilers)

Help us (ch10 spoilers)

Red (ch11 spoilers) (*warning for blood)

Bait (ch10 spoilers/ tons of theories)

Trust (ch12 spoilers)

Teeth (post reveal centered)

It's not safe (ch13 spoilers)

No more secrets (ch13 spoilers)

Hands 2 Electric Boogaloo

Justice for the detector (vague ch13 spoilers)

No shit, Sherlock (ch14 spoilers)

The gang's all here (ch14 spoilers)

WHY ARE YOU RUNNING? (ch14 spoilers)

Stack the trauma (ch15 spoilers)

Eclipse Demon (ch16 spoilers)

Demon Goo (post-reveal, but no spoilers) (linked to Cinna's addition because it's hilarious)

Eager (post-reveal, but no spoilers)

Into a New Day (ch20 spoilers)

Standalones/ Other:

You take care of the scary things

Stay here (ch2 spoilers)

Creature of the Night

The Guide and the Guardian

Safe

Poor Mothman (ch5 spoilers)

Memes Part 1

Memes Part 2 (ch5 spoilers)

Chapter 5 doodles (you can figure)

All of us @ Naff (spoilers up until ch4)

Help

Cryptid Boys True Form

Henry Emily (spoilers for ch16)

On Care, and Scary Things (ch18 spoilers)

Naff after ch19 (go figure)

Long Time No See (ch19 spoilers)

Mural

Not art but you're already here:

Click here to read along as I scream about my theories for the fic (all spoilers, till chapter 5, by now severely out of date)

#post let luce #masterlist #fnaf sb #fnaf sb au #cryptid sightings #oh my god okay yea that's a bit lmao #me adding the art from before the steady heart comic: technically this is correct but it still feels Wrong(TM)#also for anyone new here apart from the first 3 standalones Y/N basically looks like me #this is not a canon design or anything I just like drawing self inserts

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mightydragoon · 3 years ago

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Thought process behind SOAB and a bit on Amity Park and the Ghosts

Something I found interesting in a lot of Harry Potter and Danny Phantom fics is the lack of focus on Amity Park itself even early on ,we just immediately move to the wizarding world in England and Scotland. I have a time period where I want Danny and Harry to meet. (It’s 3rd year)

Amity Park is weird is not a new thing but the impact of it helped with the concept of the Blur/Glitch/Blip with how I wanted to see this weird ass town and how it makes it impossible for people to be detected for magic in both good and bad ways, just spiralled and evovled.

It was a simple thing and it would make sense but things and ideas just jumped from it and including that was the Witch community in Amity Park which I reckon would be a decent size, epecially in a country like America. All because I thought to myself with how big Amity Park is there was bound to be mroe than a few witches here and there. And with the natural blur in memories and magic, it was bound to mean there was people who lived or currently living in a place where magic couldn’t be detected and MAN did that have potential, especially for a future story and how it could connect with Canon.

But I also had concerns about how Danny himself and how he might appear OOC or Harry and the others. Like with his accident and him being MUCH younger at eleven might seem like a stretch at times.

So I decided for a complete rewrite but I knew rewritting it wasn’t the only issue. It was what I was going to keep, edit or just move on. We all know about Skulker and Technus and those episodes while fun didn’t interest me or I find suited the wider story, not to mention I already have around 103890 words for this fic currently (as of CH15)

It also meant any romantic endeavour will be held back on and rather trauma and other pyschological aspects explored upon.

Because of that it made sense to focus on worldbuilding and character development, which was partially why I wanted to do the rewrite.

I wanted to focus on episodes and build on character developments and story beats that would’ve been interesting to delve into. Like Sidney Pointdexter and Dora, since they had a friendship going in Regin Storm I wanted to incoporate in that early

Or in Sidney’s episode rewrite the conclusion and moral into something a lot more satisfying and fitting. Because of how hypocritcally the original moral was from both Sam and Sidney. Rather “Where do you draw the line.” Seems more appropriate, a warning, how far are you willing to go and where should you draw the line.

I also wanted for the ghosts to have a world beyond just Danny and their own friendships and dynamics going. We haven’t really gotten to that yet but we will soon.

It was one of the things I was working in during my hiatus too, as well as something I’m suprised hasn’t been even considered in regards to Ghosts and Harry Potter but just like the witches the Ghosts will have their own stories and lives to tell, if they lived them.

Along with any other potential Allies in the Zone and while a lot of time the mundane perspective might be ignored I hope I can do a storyline that might cover something a little different.

I also didn’t want Danny to purely just a be a hero, but just a kid trying his damned best to keep existing, keeping a bit more of his inital reluctance and is why he tries to make peace with his demons partially so they’ll leave him alone.

Since I am going to spend some time in Amity Park, I also wanted to show a world beyond Hogwarts and use Amity Park as means to do so with its secret witch community. I have no plans of them overshadowing the main cast, rather I want them to show a different perspective and story beyond what is known. Along with the different ways magic can be seen and viewed.

Like Felicia Corey for instance as a magical leader, she’s not Dumbledore but she is a foil in ways not obvious yet. She honestly could have gone onto greener pastures due to her talent and abilities, but because of her connection and dedication to Amity Park, she stays for the people and her duty there. She just an unoffical secret Mayor who helps people with their day to day business, is in her 70s and is herself helpless depsite her power in the face of many of the ghosts.

Or Ovid Baines just a guy who escaped the war in Britian and is just trying his best to be a music teacher and secretly teach kids in secret about magic, despite the limitations.

Point is I want to enhance but not completely overwhelm or bog down the place with OCs nor creating them simply to make them centre stage. There will be interludes with them but they are there simply to build ideas and introduce future plot elements.

#soab #storms of a butterfly #my fics #my post #not an ask but technically yes #my posts #my work #My writing #Danny Phantom #dp #writing #my writings #harry potter #hp #dp au #dp and hp #crossover #my stuff

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH15

This section has a lot of moving parts, and a few surprises in store for our resident mean girls ;)

Previous First Next AO3

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Chapter 15: Irresistible

Marinette stared across the street with a pensive frown, arms crossed, fingers tapping. She couldn’t bring herself to do it last night, partially because she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Even now, she still didn’t believe it was real, but as Gabrielle served coffee and sweets to patrons in broad daylight, there was no mistaking it.

Gabrielle had a job.

None of it made sense. Why was someone like her working at a café? Was it punishment? Did her parents want her to get the sense of what the “commoners” had to put up with to keep her humble? HA! As if. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Rich heiress works relatable day job. Rich people were always trying to seem relatable.

Marinette pursed her lips, equally as confused as she was when her old classmates believed every word out of Lila’s mouth. Something else was going on. Gabrielle wore a polite smile for customers, but it didn’t touch her eyes. She looked… tired. It was the same look on every businessman’s face when they came into the bakery before work—exhaustion from the persistent grind of a monotonous routine. Whatever the reason was, Gabrielle had been there a while.

Mustering up her courage, Marinette took a deep breath and cautiously approached the café. She slipped through the front door, peering around at the other patrons, though Gabrielle was nowhere in sight. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? No, she’d definitely seen her. She was probably in the back. Should Marinette wait? What was she even going to say?

“Can I help you?” a stern-looking man behind the counter asked.

Marinette jumped. “Uh, I was just looking for someone…”

“If you’re not ordering, then get out.” He looked every bit as capable of throwing her out if necessary. Marinette understood why Gabrielle looked so exhausted with a manager this mean.

“I-I’ll have a coffee, please. Two creams, one sugar.” She dug out the correct amount of change and dumped it into his hand.

The man grunted in response before turning over his shoulder. “One up!”

Marinette flicked her gaze to the back door, but it remained shut. The manager sighed, stalking to the back with his hands on his hips.

“I’m just gonna go sit…” Marinette gestured to a table with her thumb.

A few moments later the door opened, and a tall girl slinked over to the coffee machine. Her hair was tucked inside of her cap, pulled low over her face. Marinette craned her neck to watch, but Gabrielle turned her back purposefully to hide her face. When the drink was finished, she placed it on the front counter and attempted to retreat to the back, but the manager cleared his throat, pointing to the table where Marinette sat. She let out a sigh before retrieving the drink from the counter and walking it over herself.

“One coffee.” She set it on the table with more force than necessary and turned over her shoulder quickly. “Enjoy.”

“Wait.” Marinette held out a hand. “Can I get an extra packet of sugar?”

Gabrielle’s shoulders stiffened, hands clenching into fists. She pointed to the supply stand across the room before retreating to the back, mumbling to her manager that she was going to take her break.

It seemed as though she wouldn’t be resurfacing any time soon, so Marinette pulled out her sketchbook and headphones, occasionally sipping her drink. She wasn’t going to let Gabrielle get away without explaining herself, especially after what happened last week. There was more to her than met the eye, and Marinette was going to get to the bottom of it. Gabrielle knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, so it was only a matter of time before she fessed up.

After a while, a green apron appeared at her table, and a perfectly manicured hand refilled her cup from the kettle.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

Murderous green eyes glared through Marinette, but she sipped her coffee calmly.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Gabrielle’s grip tightened on the handle, and Marinette had no doubt that it was taking all of her willpower to remain professional, lest she incur the wrath of her surly manager.

“Fine. You caught me. I… work here.” She cringed at the word as if it were painful to say. “Congrats, you want a picture so you can show everyone at school?”

“No.” Marinette shook her head. “I want to know why.”

“None of your business.” Gabrielle snapped. Marinette shrugged, taking a sip of her drink while Gabrielle tapped her foot contemplatively. “Fine, but not out here.”

Marinette yelped when Gabrielle pulled her up, scrambling to grab her things as she was dragged to the back. Kicking open the door to the small employee bathroom, Gabrielle shoved her inside and pulled the door shut behind them. She covered her face, taking a few deep breaths before lowering her hands to glare at Marinette.

“I work here because my family is bankrupt.” She choked on the word, covering her mouth. “My dad’s an idiot, and now his businesses are failing, investors are pulling out. Three generations of wealth is drying up. They told the manager I was 16, so I can help pay for school.”

Marinette’s eyebrows raised in shock, and she gaped in silence as Gabrielle took deep breaths. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the summer.” Gabrielle leaned against the sink. “And I’m probably going to die here one day. Once news gets out, we’re going to be the laughingstock of the town. No one in their right mind will hire me to do anything worthwhile. I’m gonna be stuck serving coffee to poor people forever.”

Marinette almost pointed out that Gabrielle was one of those “poor people” now, but it didn’t seem like the time. Besides, she stood between Marinette and the exit, so goading her wasn’t in Marinette’s best interest if she hoped to get out of there alive.

Even still, seeing how broken and miserable Gabrielle was… Marinette couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Just because she picked on everyone at school didn’t mean Marinette wished the worst for her. She couldn’t imagine having everything ripped away from her and being forced to work a job she hated. For the first time since moving to her new school, Marinette was the most fortunate one in the room.

Reaching out a reluctant hand, Marinette attempted to touch her shoulder, but Gabrielle shook her off. “I don’t need your pity!” she growled. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re just gonna go run and tell your little do-gooder squad and spread it around school.”

“I won’t,” Marinette promised, and when Gabrielle glared again, she added, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Why? I more than deserve it after how I’ve treated you and your stupid little friends,” she said.

“It’s not my secret to tell.” Marinette shrugged.

“Wow, you really are stupid.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, the hints of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, I guess. I really don’t deserve that from you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Gabrielle pursed her lips before reaching out to pat Marinette’s shoulder awkwardly. She averted her gaze and turned to the door, though her hand hesitated on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I come from a very messed up world, and up until a few months ago, I thought that it would always be my world. It’s been hard.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “Ya know, sometimes when I see people like you, I wish it were me. I wish I knew how to be nice.” She opened the door and stalked out, leaving Marinette alone in stunned silence.

“Whoa,” Marinette said. “I thought she was being punished by her parents, but bankrupt.”

“That explains why she backed down so easily whenever you challenged her,” Tikki piped up from her bag.

“I guess it is true when they say that you don’t really know someone.” Marinette winced.

“Maybe you can become her friend and teach her how to be nice. That way she can make new friends in the future,” Tikki suggested, but Marinette let out a mocking laugh.

“Oh no, I got my answer, so I’m going to forget this ever happened. I think it’s what Gabrielle wants. Besides, it’s not my job to go around fixing every broken person I come across. Look how well that went with Lila,” Marinette said pointedly.

“I think you’re wrong about what Gabrielle wants, and while it might not be your job, I think you can’t help yourself,” Tikki said.

“Of course I can. Watch.” Marinette gently pushed her back down with one finger before strutting out of the bathroom and all the way out the front door, though her bravado was short-lived when another familiar set of green eyes flashed her a taunting grin.

Lila.

Marinette froze in her tracks, heart taking off into a sprint. A range of emotions bubbled in her core—anger, fear, sorrow, regret. It had been over a month since Marinette left, and despite her best efforts to move on from her old life, Lila could dig up all of her past hurt with one sinister smile.

She sat at an outside table, patiently sipping her drink. Her posture was relaxed, purposeful, and a bit too smug for Marinette’s liking. This was no coincidence. Lila had been waiting.

“Marinette, it’s good to see you,” she said with a sugary sweet lilt.

“That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying some coffee.” She lifted her cup as proof. “Now, did I stop here because I saw you walk in? Well, that’s debatable.”

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lila said innocently. “I was just taking a break from a long day with my best friends. They all just love me, especially Alya.”

“Good for you,” Marinette said. She brushed past her, but Lila wasn’t finished.

“Even Adrien has been paying attention to me lately. He’s like a strand of pasta, you know? He thinks he’s so tough when in reality he breaks so easily,” she cooed. “If you put a little heat on him, he’ll bend to your will in minutes.”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, hands clenching into fists. “Adrien knows you’re a liar,” she said. “If you push him, he’ll tell everyone the truth.”

“Maybe, but no one else will believe him if he tries to out me. I think he realizes that. It won’t be long before he gives up and conforms. He really can’t stand to lose all of his friends like you did.” She leaned against her fist with a smirk. “It won’t be long before I take him from you too, Marinette.”

Marinette spun around, angry tears welling in her eyes and a sharp retort on her lips, but Gabrielle appeared to refill Lila’s cup. She surveyed Marinette’s tortured expression before trailing the coffee stream across the table into Lila’s lap.

“Hey, watch it!” Lila shrieked, jumping up.

“Oops!” Gabrielle pressed a hand to her lips as Lila wiped at her romper. “Sorry I’m a little clumsy. I’m still training.”

“Ugh, you’re lucky this time, Marinette, but don’t think that this is over!” Lila growled. She grabbed her bag and stalked off.

Marinette and Gabrielle stood together in silence before one of them inevitably cracked, and they both threw their heads back with laughter.

“Thank you,” Marinette said. “That was… nice of you.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t get any ideas. That was for your discretion,” she said.

She turned her head, but not in time to hide her flushed cheeks. Marinette hated to admit it, but Tikki was right. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

♪♫♪ Turn Off the Lights ♪♫♪

“Have you thought about what I asked last time?” Adrien asked.

Chloe chewed her sushi slowly, purposefully leaving him in anticipation. He really hated how sadistic she was, especially when it wasted his time. Consorting with Chloe made his skin crawl, but after Marinette called to tell him about her encounter that afternoon, he couldn’t wait any longer. If he knew anything about Chloe, it was that she’d do anything for expensive sushi.

“You really have fallen down quite the rabbit hole, Adrikins,” she said, sounding impressed. “First you threaten to blackmail me if I don’t help you, now you’re bribing me. I always knew I’d rub off on you eventually.”

“Look, this isn’t about petty revenge or whatever you normally do,” he said. “Lila is dangerous, and she needs to be stopped.”

“I seem to recall a time when I asked for your help, and you didn’t come through for me.” Chloe examined another piece of sushi thoughtfully. “If it were anyone else in the world, I’d have laughed in their face when they asked for help. You’re lucky we’ve been friends since we were in diapers, Adrikins.”

“I know I messed up. I’m sorry.” He lowered his gaze. “I learned my lesson.”

“Good. With your silly little conscience out of the way, we can actually get some real work done,” Chloe said. “I do have a few ideas for you, but…”

“But what?”

Chloe leaned against her fist with a wicked grin. “I need to test your loyalty. If you’re going to lie down with the dogs, you can’t be afraid to get dirty, so I need to know you’re capable of breaking the rules.”

A chill prickled his spine, and Adrien shifted in his seat. “What kind of rules?”

“See? This is why I have trust issues, Adrikins.”

He sighed, squaring his shoulders and facing her head-on. “Okay, fine. I’m in.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped for her butler, then pulled Adrien to his feet. “Your father thinks you’re helping me with my science homework tonight, but you and I both know Sabrina has already done it. I threatened my way into a party uptown, and you’re coming with me.”

“But-”

“Ah, ah!” Chloe held up a finger. “Prove to me you have what it takes. Break the rules.”

Adrien’s stomach churned as Chloe dragged him down to her waiting limo. When he’d come to her for help, he anticipated having to push his conscience aside to get what he wanted. To make a deal with the devil, he had to be willing to sell his soul, and sneaking out to a party across town was page one of their contract. It would all be worth it in the end. For Marinette’s happiness, he’d sell his soul a thousand times. He was already clutching the pen—Chloe just needed to show him where to sign.

♪♫♪ Pretty Places ♪♫♪

“Marinette! There’s someone here to see you!” Her mother called up the stairs that evening.

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed. Who would visit at this hour? She wasn’t expecting anyone. Adrien had piano practice. Macy had vocal lessons. Eliott and Martin were having some “guy time” whatever that meant. All of her friends were previously engaged, so who was waiting for her downstairs?

She set aside her knitting and slowly made her way to the living room. Whoever she expected to find didn’t compare at all to the tall red-head standing in the doorway.

“Gabrielle?” Her jaw dropped. “What are-”

“Is your room up here?” She pointed, quirking a perfectly-plucked brow. When Marinette nodded, Gabrielle took her wrist and dragged her back up the stairs.

“What-” Marinette gaped as Gabrielle shut the trap door and dusted her hands. “What is happening?”

“Get dressed.” Gabrielle ordered, but when Marinette remained frozen, she rolled her eyes and added, “We’re going to a party. Get dressed.”

“We’re what?” Marinette asked as Gabrielle threw her closet open and began digging through the rack.

“The son of one of my dad’s golfing buddies is throwing a party at their mansion tonight, and we’re going,” Gabrielle said. She sifted through hangers until she found a shirt and tossed it at Marinette. “Put that on.”

“Wh-”

“Do you know how to put on a shirt? Or does your mom dress you every morning?” Gabrielle looked her up and down.

“I know how to put on a shirt,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. “I’m just confused. Are we friends now or-?”

“Gross, no.” Gabrielle wrinkled her nose and moved over to the dresser as Marinette turned her back to change.

“So, if we’re not friends, then what are we?” she asked as Gabrielle examined a pair of black jeans.

She lowered them, a thoughtful expression on her face before she shrugged and tossed them at Marinette too. “I can’t party with my old crew without risking them finding out my secret, but you on the other hand are stupid enough not to tell anyone despite how delicious it would be to watch my world crumble after I was so mean to you,” she explained while rummaging through Marinette’s shoes. “So, I’m settling for you tonight.”

“Thanks?” Marinette tilted her head to the side. “I think.”

“Where’s your makeup?” Gabrielle asked. When Marinette retrieved a small pouch from her vanity, Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. “Ugh, this is all you have?”

“I don’t wear a lot of makeup,” Marinette said defensively.

“If I weren’t broke, I’d buy you a proper makeup collection, but we’ll work with what we have for now.” She tucked it under her arm. “Come on. We’ll do your makeup in the car.”

“We- wait!” Marinette called as Gabrielle descended the stairs.

“Hi, sweetie, is this one of your new friends?” her mom asked as Marinette scrambled after Gabrielle. They exchanged glances, and Gabrielle gave her a stern look.

“Uh, yeah. She’s one of my classmates,” Marinette said.

“Gabrielle Burton, it’s nice to meet you, madame,” she said in the politest tone Marinette had ever heard from her. “We’re meeting up with a group of friends to see a movie. Do you mind if I steal her for the evening? My driver will bring her home afterward.”

“Of course, you girls go have fun,” her mom said.

Gabrielle didn’t wait for Marinette to respond before taking her wrist.

“Uh, bye, mom!” Marinette called over her shoulder.

Marinette blinked a few times as Gabrielle shoved her into the back of a town car, and the driver headed uptown. Gabrielle turned her chin with one finger, shaking the foundation bottle in the other hand.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered. When Marinette hesitated, she added, “Relax, I’m not going to make you look ugly. I’d never be seen arriving with someone who looks like a wannabe beauty guru.”

Marinette pursed her lips but relented, allowing Gabrielle to make her over on the drive. Several times Gabrielle grumbled about her limited options, stating several expensive products that would have worked better. Nevertheless, she attained some level of satisfaction because she instructed Marinette to open her eyes and look in the mirror.

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyebrows raised. Her makeup never looked half this good when she did it herself—a skilled hand made all the difference. She peeked up at Gabrielle applying her own lip gloss and pursed her lips. “So, what kind of party is this?”

“Relax, goody-two-shoes, the most exciting thing at this party is wine. My parents don’t let me go to trashy parties.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, removing her large trench coat to reveal a sparkly black dress with mesh cutouts along the waist. “Just try not to act too lowbrow, okay? Don’t embarrass me.”

“I’ll do my best?” Marinette said as they pulled up to the front steps.

“Great.” Gabrielle tossed her compact into her purse and kicked open the door. “Oh, and just because we’re arriving together does not mean you are allowed to socialize with me here. Don’t hang off me like a sad little koala. Go dance and have fun with other people.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re friends,” Marinette said.

“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.”

Marinette took in the towering mansion with wide eyes, twirling around in the foyer to catch all of the detail work. She’d been hanging out with her new friends for almost a month, but she still wasn’t quite used to such luxurious mansions.

“Cut it out! You act like you’ve never seen crown molding before,” Gabrielle hissed. She closed Marinette’s jaw with her finger. “Just be normal.”

“Yes, because this is so normal.” Marinette gestured to the marble statue fountain in the middle of the foyer, and Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

“It is for these people. Now get away from me.” She spun Marinette around and pushed her toward the sitting room where various groups of people were chatting over hor d’oeurves before retreating to the living room dancefloor.

Marinette stumbled several feet, bumping into someone’s back and falling onto her butt.

“Sorry!” She rubbed her head, but the warm green eyes staring down at her held no contempt. “Adrien?”

#mdcsp #mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #my writing #cats ocs

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berenwrites · 2 years ago

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Whole New Us Ch22 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Whole New Us: Trauma Bonded and Beyond

Also on AO3 | Or here CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20 | CH21 | CH22 | CH23 | CH24 | CH25 (Mature) | CH25 (Fade to black) COMPLETE

Summary: Steve has been ignoring his own problems, he’s been busy. They’ve all been busy, preoccupied with fixing everything that was broken. Vecna has been defeated, but the Upside Down is still there, and the gates are not completely closed even though Hawkins has almost returned to normal. It’s been a couple of months and the aftereffects of Steve’s encounter with the demobats is about to come back to bite him. However, it also brings some unexpected hope.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Rating: Teen (with mature content in later chapters)

Chapter 22. Kind of Weird

It was weird having his parents in the house. For the first time in a very long time, not exactly bad weird, but still strange enough that Steve was on edge. The way his dad shut himself in his office with coffee and toast was not overly unusual. His dad had been a workaholic for years, so it was normal behaviour. His mom, on the other hand, was very much present.

She had a surprisingly lively debate with Dustin over breakfast about why Star Trek was far superior to Star Wars. Steve hadn’t even been aware his mother knew what Star Trek was, let alone that she had apparently been a fan when she was younger. From the way she actually knew all the characters’ names, Steve suspected his mom might have even been a closet nerd. It blew his mind.

He also realised he was never ever going to be allowed to forget it, no matter how long his parents decided to stay in town.

The way all the kids lined up to help load the dishwasher once breakfast was done made him feel a bit like a proud parent himself. Not that he was ever going to admit to his mother he usually had to cajole them into it. The living room was also returned to a tidy state remarkably quickly.

Nancy showed up soon after breakfast to pick up Mike and Lucas, which left Steve to drop off Dustin, Max, El and Will. It was all very civilised, but it didn’t stop Steve speeding on the way home because he had once again left Robin and Eddie alone with his parents.

“It’s like a compulsion,” were the words he heard from Robin after making it back through the door.

“Yeah, Steve can’t help himself when someone needs something,” Eddie agreed. “Did he ever tell you how he first met Dustin?”

“No, I don’t believe he did,” his mom replied while he followed their voices to the kitchen.

“Helping to look for his lost cat,” Robin supplied. “The way Steve tells it, he drove Dustin around for a bit before they took a little walk. The way Dustin tells it, they were out there for hours.”

“Ended up at the junkyard with Lucas and Max, where Steve fought off jacked-up dogs with his baseball bat to keep the kids safe,” Eddie added.

“It was Jonathan’s bat originally,” Steve said, feeling he had listened long enough.

His mom looked up from where she was sitting at the small kitchen table with Robin and Eddie.

“Everyone home safe?” she asked.

“Well until Dustin comes up with some new hairbrained experiment, yes,” he replied. “Dustin’s mom sent some of her secret recipe peanut bars,” he added, placing the Tupperware box on the counter.

“Oh my god, gimmie,” Eddie said, making grabby hands.

“You only just had breakfast,” Steve pointed out.

“You have tasted those bars, right?” Eddie insisted.

“He has a point,” Robin agreed.

Steve rolled his eyes and moved the box to the table.

“If either of you decide to jump in the pool fully clothed because you are on a sugar rush, I am not rescuing you,” he said.

Eddie turned to look at Robin with his eyebrows raised.

“It was one time,” she protested, “and I didn’t jump in, I fell in. It was an accident.”

Steve could tell his mom was trying not to laugh.

“And don’t lie in front of your mother, Steven, you’d be in there like a shot dragging my sorry ass out,” Robin said as she stole one of the bars.

“That’s it, I’m locking the back door,” he replied, and his mother did finally let out a quiet laugh.

He noticed her smile turn fond when Eddie broke one of the bars in half and passed part of it to him. It wasn’t like he could refuse after that.

“You really should try one,” he told him mom as he sat down. “I’m not sure what Claudia puts in them, but they’re almost as good as Grandma Lucy’s cookies.”

“High praise indeed,” his mom said, “but I unfortunately am no longer close to twenty and my blood sugar would hate me. If there are any left, I will try one later.”

“Do you have a safe?” Eddie asked with a grin. “I think that might be the only way to stop Robin eating the lot.”

“Hey,” Robin complained, “you’re one to talk Mr I-can-eat-an-entire-box-of-cereal-in-one-sitting.”

Steve snorted a laugh as his best friend and his boyfriend continued to bicker. That his mother was watching them with a slightly bemused, but pleased expression on her face was strange, but it was also good. He let himself enjoy it while it lasted, even if the voice of doubt in the back of his mind was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

~*~

It was late when Steve and Eddie got back after Steve’s shift at Family Video. He’d been on closing and since Robin had not been on with him, Eddie had insisted on accompanying him. It had become something of a habit. Eddie was no longer going full incognito, but it seemed as if Hawkins was beginning to mostly ignore him once more. Not that Steve was on board with people ignoring Eddie, but it was much better than the alternative.

Trying to eat one of the customers because they were nasty to Eddie would definitely get him fired.

“Hi, Mom,” he said as he put his keys in the bowl by the door.

His mother was watching TV while also apparently reading a book. Now that he thought about it, he remembered her doing it a lot when he was small.

“Hello, Darling,” his mom said, turning and giving him a smile. “How was work?”

“I only had to explain twice that movies that are still in theatres aren’t available to rent, so pretty good,” he replied.

“I still say you should just give them a random tape from a shelf every time they ask,” Eddie added. “They probably don’t even know what they’re asking about.”

“And I’ve explained I kind of want to keep my job,” Steve replied. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie replied.

Steve had no idea how Eddie did it, but he could drink coffee last thing at night and still sleep. Steve was more of a hot chocolate kind of guy. He had enough trouble with interrupted sleep that he did not need caffeine in the mix.

“Mom, can I get you anything?” he asked.

“I’m good,” his mom replied.

Heading into the kitchen, he flipped on the light and started on the drinks. By the time he made it back into the living room, Eddie was sitting on the couch near his mom, and they appeared to be talking about the book she had been reading. He handed Eddie a mug while doing his best to stifle a yawn.

Apparently, he didn’t do a very good job, because Eddie noticed instantly.

“Okay, bed for you,” Eddie said.

Steve gave his boyfriend his best bitchy stare for that.

“Do not make me break out your full name,” Eddie threatened.

“You don’t even know my full name,” Steve pointed out.

“Well then don’t make me subject your lovely mother to my truly terrible guesses,” Eddie said with a sweet smile. “Last night was bad for you and you’ve been on the go all day.”

“I slept all the way through last night,” he countered.

“Kinda,” was all Eddie said.

That wasn’t exactly a settling response. Steve did not remember waking up the previous night. He didn’t even remember any dreams, but Eddie seemed to be suggesting that wasn’t the case.

The fact was, he had been about to suggest they head upstairs anyway, but he was nothing if not stubborn. He put one hand on his hip.

“Steven Au….”

“Okay, okay,” he surrendered before Eddie could get going. “But only because I do not want my mom mentally scarred by whatever you come up with.”

His mom was being absolutely no help, just sitting there smiling demurely. He was beginning to think his mom might have a very wicked sense of humour that he had never been able to appreciate when he was younger and that had been hidden from him for his teenage years.

“Impressive,” his mom said. “I’m afraid Steve gets his stubborn side from me. There was this one time…”

“Mom!” he protested.

She smiled sweetly at him.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said and headed for the stairs with his hot chocolate in hand. “Good night, mom,” he added as he reached the stairs with Eddie close behind him.

“Good night, Darling,” his mom replied.

On the landing, Eddie paused, looking over at the door to the room that was technically his, but that he’d never actually slept in.

“Yeah, no,” Steve said without having to think about it, “I do not plan on waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.”

Eddie still had nightmares and Steve had gained a whole new set to go with his old ones, sleeping alone was like playing Russian roulette with only one chamber empty in the gun. They might have to forgo the cuddling that had become something of a thing, while his parents were home, but he needed Eddie close. He wasn’t up for that battle any time soon. Really, he never wanted to have that battle at all if he could help it. Given how Eddie put up no fight at all, he was sure they were on the same page.

What he hadn’t anticipated was having his hot chocolate taken away and put on the side, before being crowded up against the wall next to the bathroom as soon as his bedroom door closed behind them.

“Been dying to do this all day,” Eddie said quietly before diving in for a kiss.

The moment Eddie’s lips touched his, Steve melted into the touch. He hadn’t been aware of how much tension he was carrying around until it flowed away. Wrapping his arms around Eddie, he pulled him closer and kissed back for all he was worth. Not that either of them dared to try for tongues. They’d had a lot of practice and they were quite good at it, but it was still too much of a risk. If blood became involved, they would be loud, very loud.

When Eddie broke away and started kissing across his chin and down his neck, he put his head back and just enjoyed it. Sometimes he wondered how he had ever lived without this. Nothing in the world could ever make him give it up as long as Eddie would have him.

End of Chapter 22

Chapter 23

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #st: whole new us #fanfic #post season 4 #vampires #kind of vampires #hurt/comfort

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liaromancewriter · 3 years ago

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In what order did Ethan develop this feelings for MC according to your hc?Love, Care, Respect, Attention, Erotic

Hi Nonny. This is such a fascinating question and I've spent all day thinking about it. Here's how I see it for Ethan and Cassie, so it's my interpretation of their relationship: Attention, Care, Erotic, Love, Respect.

First came attention. Cassie impressed him during the emergency thoracotomy with her ability stay calm (despite his contrariness) and then she flirted with him with that line about private lessons. The vending machine scene where she wouldn't tell him how she knew what would work with Barb and then that green top at Donahue's? He was sunk. I did a drabble a while back on this.

Next was Care and this was after Cassie started to help him with Naveen - keeping his secret, being his partner in crime, no matter what. Ethan doesn't trust easy, but she proved worthy of his trust. By the time they were in Miami, he had really started to care for Cassie; his moral code wouldn't allow him to go further but he wanted to, so badly.

Erotic - he definitely started to see her in a different light on the balcony in Miami, but absence only increased their mutual desire for each other. When he left Edenbrook and she was suspended, everything he felt for her came out and it was explosive. He was smitten from the first, but true passion and desire with permission to capture it came during Ch15 of Book 1.

In the world/timeline I've created, they enter into a secret relationship after Ch17. It's during this time that they get to know each other as equals especially once he returns from the Amazon. By then she's not an intern; rather she's his peer on the Diagnostics Team. Therefore, some of the mental blocks that existed for him no longer exist.

For him it's a slow fall into love as all the urgency of that first year morphs into this amazing romance that's balanced by domesticity, but also someone who hasn't let him down. I hc that Ethan can be his true self with Cassie and know that she can take it, grumpy moods and cynicism and everything high and low.

I put Respect last because it must be earned, as a person and a professional; at least for these two because they're highly attracted to each other's intelligence first followed by physical desire.

She might be his peer from year 2 onward, but she doesn't know as much as he does; she's working on it. Her determination to defy the odds and become the best that she can be, how she believes in Naveen's legacy and wants to advance it as much as he does -- that's what seals is for him. By the time she's ready to take her Board exams, she's not only his equal, but he knows that she has surpassed him or will in very short order.

More importantly, he knows that she won't walk away from him and that they are committed to each other and the possibility of them in the long term.

Hope that's clear as I might have rambled a bit.

Character Asks: @rookiemartin @jerzwriter

#ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #ask and answered

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justadram · 4 years ago

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Location: York City

Date: January 1778

A Loyalist Brigade is raised on Long Island with Lt. Col. Jon Snow in command of one of the battalions. Sansa, a secret Patriot living in Tory territory, isn’t sure whether to keep her distance or whether he might prove to be the best cover of all.

Ch15: The Late Night

Jon x Sansa, Revolutionary War AU, friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, pining, conflicting allegiances, loyalty, duty, alternating POV

#really earning its rating in this chapter #jonsa #jon x sansa #actually jonsa #gotfic #game of thrones #fanfic

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lassie-bird · 4 years ago

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The Hunter’s Daughter - Masterlist

Summary: Dean always knew that he had a teenage daughter but to keep her safe he left her to be raised by her mother under a different name, now all that must change once her mother is killed by a supernatural being, how is he going to keep his daughter safe now?

Follow the daughter of Dean Winchester as she hunts monsters while keeping her identity a secret,

Will someone find out the truth?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°★.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°★

This is a 18+ series. Like I have explained earlier, no one underage allowed as i’m sure we’d like to obey to tumblr laws. My chapters will have their own individual warnings so keep an eye out for those. This is my own so please do not repost it on any other site.

Header made my the beautifully talented @winchest09 , Show her love!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PROLOGUE ║ CH01 ║ CH02 ║ CH03 ║ CH04║ CH05 ║ CH06 ║ CH07 ║CH08 ║ CH09 ║ CH10║ CH11 ║CH12 ║CH13 ║CH14 ║CH15 ║CH16 ║CH17 ║ CH18 ║

#dean winchester #supernatural #smutish #masterlist #dean x daughter #no incest #birdie writing #birdies masterlist

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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Spicyhoney Master Fic List

*All the links vanished from my original list, so I am reposting it.

Note: I decided I wanted a list of links for all my Undertale stories on tumblr, so here it is. Most are spicyhoney, (Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus) but there’s a few others mixed in.

I tried to tag things appropriately, but they all are tagged appropriately on the story page itself.

I also have links for artists at the bottom who either inspired these works or were inspired into creating gorgeous pieces for it! Please, scroll down and have a look!

Enjoy!

Beneath Cut Due To Length:

Series

By Any Other Name Masterlist

~~*~~

Slowing Your Roll (Lemon) *complete*

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11

Take Yourself a Deep Breath

CH1 | CH2 | CH3

~~*~~

Colors: A Village AU (Lemon)

|Links to cheapbourbon’s art that inspired this series|

~~*~~

Biting Off More Than You Can Chew (Heatfic, Lemon)

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13

~~*~~

Arctic AU

Beneath an Aurora Sky

CH1| CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20

Southern Lights (Drabble)

|Links to cheapbourbon’s art that inspired this series|

One | Two

~~*~~

Star Wars AU

Severed Bonds

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4: Interlude | CH5 | CH6: Interlude 2 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16

|Links to cheapbourbon’s art that inspired this series|

~~*~~

Outside Influences (Please read warnings, this story contains attempted sexual assault) *complete*

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7

~~*~~

Terms of Engagement - (skellie daycare)

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8

artwork by constantly tired reader for this story!

Precious art by hj-skb!

~~*~~

Petal (Hanahaki Disease)

CH1 | CH2

~~*~~

No One Is To Blame (pregnancy fic)

1. What Will Be, Will Be

2. Something To Say, But Nothing Comes

3. Can’t Go On, Thinking Nothing’s Wrong

4. Seldom All They Seem

5. Voices Are Heard But Nothing Is Seen

6. Winter Makes You Laugh a Little Slower

7. That Place Where You Can’t Remember and You Can’t Forget

8. Casting Its Shroud Over All We Have Known

9. There’s a Place I Like To Hide

10. All A Bad Dream Spinning In Your Head

~~*~~

The Temptation of Divinity (spicyhoneymustard, bodyguard AU) (Lemon!)

1. Showtime

2. Secret Garden

3. A Judicious Amount of Effort

4. Musically Inclined

5. Lest You Be Judged

6. Solo Act

7. Appealing To Better Judgment

8. Safety In Numbers

9. Endurance Trial

Mafia AU: The Rose and the Thorn

~~*~~

BAON AU’s

Separate Lives

A Pressing Engagement: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter 3

Kinktober Shorts - (Lemon Goodness!)

Bound and Determined - Prompt Rope Bondage

Not Exactly Standard - Prompt: Tentacles

Out of Sight, Out of My Mind - Prompt: Voyeurism

Plastic Fantastic - Prompt: Dildo

Sore Loser - Prompt: Spanking

Solo Stories and Short Series

Sleepless

Like No One is Watching

That One Percent

Doggone It

Collared (Lemon)

9/10ths (Lemon)

Touching

Playing Around

Two Days

Dirty Laundry (Lemon)

A Winding Path (Lemon)

Holding On

Popping the Question

Monsters (Read Warnings)

Denim Blue

Anatomy (Lemon)

Need (Lemon)

Worth

A Place To Start

Clearing Out the Cobwebs

Little Lies (Wild West AU)

Blue Skies and Silver Sails (Steampunk AU)

Hey, Jealousy | Part 2

The Price of LoVe (Read Warnings) | Come and Get Your Love (Ditto)

Hell and Back (Please Read Warnings)

Keyholes (please read warnings)

A Change in You and Me (Flowey POV)

Like the Weather

Hooded

Bump In the Night (Monster Under the Bed)

Mixed Messages

Six Steps To Finding Your Place In The World

Foreign Languages

The Second Rule (not spicyhoney, Underfell Babybones)

Sticks and Stones (Nursery Rhyme Project)

Dadster (Gaster POV)

Dadster #2 (Rules for Dating My Sons)

Drinking Buddies

Déjà Vu All Over Again (sansby)

A Glitch in the Thought Process (lemon)

Crying Over You (Please Read Warnings)

Walls Between Us

Pet the Kitty (Lemon)

~~*~~

12 Days of Papcest Masterlist

~~*~~

De-aged Fics

1.Edge: A Little Edgy | A Lot Edgier

2. Stretch: Keeping Elastic | A Bit of a Stretch

3. Red: Ankle Biter

4. Blue: A Bolt From the Blue

~~*~~

Bargains and Debts (Lemon series)

A Bargain | Acquiring Debt

~~*~~

Depression Shorts

Nice Things | Seeing From Here

Artwork

I don’t art so these lovelies are all from the brilliant Undertale artists out there! Give them love!

Artwork for Petal by hj_skb!

A gorgeous picture of the boys from Colors by @peach-scented-art

More gorgeous Colors art by LAGT

Lovely gift art by chance-key

Art for Beneath an Aurora Sky by fresh-draws

artwork by constantly tired reader for Terms of Engagement!

Adorable art of Red in his panda suit by hj-skb!

Precious art for Terms of Engagement by hj-skb!

My amazing birthday present from Myheartsbroke

Lovely huggy boys by ask-ufpapyrus

Adorable art of the spicyhoney boys by painty

My prize for a contest, the boys! by ely

Artwork for ‘Temptations of Divinity by hj_skb

A lovely trio of artwork by yersipestis

Jedi Edge by yersipestis

Edge and Rus, as a Mafia Man and Florist by maddieblay

Lovely Rus in his nightshirt for the Mafia AU by ask-ufpapyrus:

Amazing animation of Edge and Rus for Mafia AU by zwagyzonk

Rus’s Kidnapping for Mafia AU by yersipestis

Beautiful art for Colors by Achirding

The precious spicyhoney boys for my birthday! by ask-ufpapyrus

More spicyhoney birthday gifts! by gilded_pleasure

adorable Blue from Mafia AU by gilded_pleasure

Edge teasing Rus from the Mafia AU by steamyspectacles

#spicyhoney #keelywolfe #papcest #underfell #underswap

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lastbluetardis · 4 years ago

Text

Chemical Reaction (18/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~6900 words, teen

If you like my stories, consider leaving me a tip? I know these are trying times, but if you are able, I would really appreciate it xoxo. And as always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated as well.

AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

James was shaking. It was like he hadn’t eaten in too long and his blood sugar dropped too low and his body started rebelling against him until he gave it nourishment.

Only this was worse. Much, much worse. He was dizzy and nauseated and crippled with grief.

How had the night gone so wrong? They’d been having fun at the Phillies game, hadn’t they? They’d been laughing and lighthearted, and were so exhausted that they’d been a few minutes away from collapsing into bed together.

Then he’d gone and snooped through Rose’s mail. He should have ignored the letter. He should have asked her what it was, and asked why Jimmy had contacted her.

Would she have told the truth?

He hated that he had to ask that question, and he hated even more that he didn’t have a definitive answer.

His body moved on autopilot down the many flights of stairs of Rose’s building, not entirely aware of his surroundings. It was a miracle he didn’t trip down the steps and break his neck, considering he couldn’t quite feel his feet. He couldn’t feel much of anything apart from the heavy, aching pressure in his chest and the acid roiling in his gut.

James slipped into his dark car, which was still warm from the drive to her flat. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Rose, holding Rose, snuggling Rose in bed as they drifted to sleep.

Instead, here he was. About to drive home. Alone.

A break. Rose wanted a break. Because he had been such an insensitive arsehole.

But so was she.

Every insecurity he’d shared with Rose, every heartbreaking moment of the aftermath of his parents’ death… had Rose not wanted to hear about any of them? He felt stupid—so stupid—for baring so much of his soul to her without realizing she wasn’t reciprocating. How had he ever thought the nuggets of information she’d dropped for him constituted reciprocity? She had put in the bare minimum of emotional effort, giving him just enough that their communication felt like a two-way street. Did she know what she was doing? Had this been her plan all along? Get him comfortable and familiar with her so he would fall utterly in love with her? So he would have sex with her? Was that all she had been after this whole time? Had she taken advantage of his inexperience and banked on him not realizing she wasn’t putting in as much effort as he was?

His shoulders shook as he wept into his hands, those ugly, nasty thoughts eating away at his mind until he couldn’t think of anything else. He didn’t want to believe that about Rose. These last four months with her had been nothing short of bliss. He’d never connected with anyone as much as he had with Rose. He was desperate to believe that what they’d had was real. It had to be real. It hurt too much for it all to have been nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the dark before his tears stopped enough for him to turn his car on. The engine growled to life, and the time 12:03 flashed blue in his eyes. Had it only been twenty minutes since he had first pulled up to Rose’s flat? How had twenty minutes completely destroyed the last seven months of their friendship and relationship?

His vision blurred again with fresh tears, but he impatiently rubbed them away to put his car in gear and drive off down the deserted street.

It probably should have bothered him that he didn’t remember driving. Anything could have happened. He could have run every single stop light, could have hit anything or anyone. But he was suddenly home, pulling into his dark driveway sometime later. His house was equally dark. He hadn’t left any lights on because he hadn’t expected to come back here tonight.

The house was dead silent. Not even his cats could deign to greet him. He toed off his shoes by the front door then plopped his keys and wallet into the dish on the cabinet beside it.

“Pip?” he croaked, voice raspy from all the tears he’d shed. “Merry? Gollum?”

There was a tiny chirp from the living room—Pippin and Merry were curled together on the sofa. James frowned. They usually slept in his bed, even on the nights he didn’t come home. He stepped over to them and gave them each a few chin scritches, but they were too drowsy to do much other than purr lightly.

“Where’s Gollum, eh?” he asked them, glancing around the living room. The Siamese wasn’t in the cat tree, or anywhere in sight. After the night he’d had, it would be his luck if Gollum had crawled off somewhere and died.

Whatever. He would look for him in the morning. James wanted nothing more than to strip down to his pants, fall into bed, and not wake up for a few days.

However, those plans were instantly scrapped when he stepped into his bedroom and was greeted with the pungent, acrid odor of ammonia. A huge, reeking damp spot sat in the middle of his bed.

“God-fucking-dammit!” he shouted, kicking his bed frame.

He cried out and hopped on one foot as his toes burned in agony. His anger surged. Anger at himself, for jumping to conclusions and making too many accusations; anger at Rose, for keeping all of her secrets; anger at Jimmy, for everything he’d done to Rose; anger at his cat, for weeing on his bed when all he wanted to do was sleep and not wake up for a very long time.

James sank onto the edge of his bed—far away from the urine stain—his tears starting up again in earnest. He wanted Rose, and he hated that he wanted her. She had broken his heart more thoroughly than anyone ever had before, yet he still loved her. God, did he love her.

Was that wrong of him though? Was it unhealthy that he wanted her, wanted to make up with her, after everything they’d said that night? Could they even make up from something like this?

He hoped they could. He hoped they could find some sort of middle ground. What that middle ground looked like, he didn’t know; his brain was too foggy with exhaustion and grief to think about possible resolutions and compromises they could make.

Something vibrated against his thigh. Sniffling and wiping his sleeve across his running nose, James fished his mobile out of his pocket. A new message from Rose.

Did you make it home okay?

He wanted to reply, “What do you care?” but curbed the impulse. That wasn’t fair. If she’d had to drive home at midnight after the argument they’d just had, he would want to know she was safe.

“Yeah,” is all he sent.

Okay. Glad to hear it. Sleep well James.

“Fat fucking chance,” he muttered to his phone, and instead typed out, “Yeah. You too.”

He set his phone face-down on the mattress beside him and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. A throbbing headache was beginning behind his brow. He would love nothing more than to sleep soundly and dreamlessly, but knew that his brain wouldn’t shut down enough for him to get any restful sleep.

Besides, it’s not like his bed was in any sort of state to be slept in.

With a groan, James pushed himself to his feet and tucked his phone into his pocket. He ripped off all the layers of his bedding, cursing when he saw they were soaked down to the mattress cover. Had Gollum held his bladder all goddamn day so he could piss right through everything?

He carried the stinking pile of sheets and blankets to his laundry room and settled in for a long night of washing. He stuffed the duvet into his washer—glad this home used to belong to a single mother of three who had invested in a giant washing machine, and left it behind when she’d moved out—and dumped in two detergent pods before programming a long, hot wash cycle. He then took the rest of his blankets to his kitchen sink.

The sight of two days’ worth of dirty dishes made him want to throw them all against a wall—broken dishes didn’t need to be cleaned. However, the mess of broken dishes would be more taxing. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out noisily as he dropped his sheets onto the floor and loaded everything into the dishwasher.

When the sink was empty, he grabbed his blankets and gave them all an individual rinse to hopefully keep the cat urine stain from setting.

It took nearly two dryer cycles for his duvet to be completely dry, and then another two loads of laundry before the rest of his blankets and sheets were clean. To his relief, all traces of cat urine odor were gone.

It was the dead of night by the time he made his bed; if he fell asleep right now, he would get at least four hours in before he would have to get up for classes. Was it worth it to try to sleep? He was keyed up from his middle of the night laundry session and his brain was still too loud. Maybe he should give up on the notion of sleep and try to take a nap after classes. Though would it even be productive if he attended classes?

James flopped onto his back on the fresh duvet, breathing in the scent of clean laundry. He would have to revoke the cats’ bedroom privileges until they—Gollum—proved they could be trusted not to wee on everything.

He sat bolt upright. He hadn’t thought to check the guest bedroom. Grumbling to himself and crossing his fingers, he jogged down the hall, and cursed vehemently under his breath when he smelled cat urine.

What the hell? Should’ve left the stupid arsehole to drown.

Well. He was already awake. In for a penny, and all. Stripping that bed as well, he began the same laundry routine. While that duvet was in the wash, James indulged in a quick shower. The sweat and grime of the previous day coupled with crying his eyes out intermittently for the past few hours made him feel filthy.

The shower didn’t relax him as much as he’d hoped, not when the evidence of Rose was all around him. He hadn’t realized how completely she had insinuated herself into his home, into his life. Her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sat right beside his, her bottles of pink and yellow keeping company with his blue and red ones.

Firmly ignoring her products, James rushed through his shower, lathering his hair and body in record time. But when he went to his pajama drawer, he was yet again reminded of Rose when he saw a set of her pjs in the drawer too. He couldn’t help but touch them, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips as his brain reminded him of all the times he’d pushed her top off before they made love.

His stomach ached with longing. Hurriedly shutting the drawer, James instead moved to grab a pair of boxer-briefs. Rose’s knickers sat in a small pile in that drawer too. Growling in frustration, he grabbed a pair of pants at random and slipped them on before bending to root through his t-shirt drawer. Unsurprisingly, he found several of Rose’s shirts mixed in with his.

How had he not realized how much of Rose existed in his house? How had he not realized that her light and beauty shone through his home, and that she had made it her home too?

Because I loved it.

And he had. He had loved living with Rose, and had been counting down the days when she would officially move out of her flat and into his house.

His tears nearly started up again when he realized that he may never share a home with Rose if they couldn’t find a way to work through all that had been said. No more sleepy mornings spent giggling and kissing in bed. No more impromptu dance parties in the kitchen just because they felt like being silly. No more late-night chats that sometimes carried them into the wee hours of the mornings. No more exploring every beautiful inch of her body and losing himself in her love and pleasure.

He didn’t particularly care about the prospect of no more sex. Brilliant though it was, he found himself more devastated by the loss of Rose’s friendship than the loss of her body. He had fallen in love with her, and the thought of her not being in his life anymore was agonizing. They’d known each other for seven months, and she had somehow become a constant in his life, an unmovable force that he’d been confident would never be gone.

The unknown was killing him. The uncertainty of whether he and Rose would be able to make up. If they did manage to reconcile, to forgive and heal, would their relationship look the same as it did before?

A distant chime from down the hall told him the wash cycle was finished. Sniffling, James pulled on a soft, worn t-shirt and padded down the hall to continue his laundry. When the duvet was in the dryer and the sheets were in the washer, James started searching for Gollum. As irritated as he was with his cat, he was also concerned; apart from the first week James had brought Gollum home, the feline had never had litter box issues.

Drifting from room to room, James finally found Gollum in the basement—which also doubled as an office space—lying on the desk chair.

“What’s gotten into you, you little menace?” he asked, crouching beside the cat. Gollum didn’t react, making James’s heart lurch. “Gollum?”

He reached out and rested his hand on the cat’s side. Gollum let out a noise between a chirp and a growl.

“Thought you were dead for a minute. What on Earth is your problem, buddy? Are you not feeling well? Is the litter box not clean enough for you? Are you trying to make my shitty day even more shitty?” James sighed, and stroked the top of Gollum’s head. “I’ll call the vet when they open. In the meantime, try not to wee on anything else, yeah?”

Gollum huffed out a breath, then closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

The rest of the night passed listlessly for James. When he wasn’t switching over laundry, he worked on cleaning his house from top to bottom. Anything to keep his mind busy and away from Rose, because otherwise all he could think about was the way he’d raised his voice and talked over her, the way he’d suggested she wasn’t as invested in their relationship as he was, the way she’d sobbed and hugged herself and flinched away from him. And all of that was something he definitely didn’t want to think about.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the distant horizon by the time he’d finished. His house was immaculate. There was not a scrap of unclean fabric anywhere, what with him moving on to washing his clothes and the various towels and blankets strewn around his home.

His eyes burned with exhaustion, and he thought he might be able to get some sleep. He preemptively filled his cats’ food dishes so that they wouldn’t barge into his room in an hour to demand breakfast, then he went into his bedroom and crawled beneath his sheets. Before settling in to try to sleep, he shot off a series of short emails to his various professors, letting them know he wouldn’t be in class that day, and he would arrange with some of his classmates to get their notes. That task finished, James silenced his phone and set it on the nightstand, then tugged his sheets up to his ears.

He hadn’t realized that his bed had begun to smell like Rose until he was surrounded by the scent of laundry detergent rather than her subtle floral aroma. With an intensity that stole his breath away, he was aware of how much he missed Rose. Missing her hurt almost as much as their fight did, because despite everything that had happened, he remained desperately in love with her. He knew that he would do just about anything to try to make things right with Rose, if she would let him. He hoped she would.

That train of thought kept him from getting much sleep. His mind kept replaying their argument over and over again, and it kept coming up with new rebuttals and explanations he wished he could have said instead of losing his temper.

It was ten o’clock by the time James gave up on the idea of getting any more rest. He felt worse now than he had when he’d collapsed into bed four hours ago. Bleary-eyed, James stumbled to the kitchen to begin a pot of coffee. While it brewed, he went to check on Gollum. His food dish beneath his cat tree was full, and the cat himself had barely moved from his position on the office chair.

“All right, bud. Vet time,” James murmured, stroking Gollum’s forehead and cheeks.

He went back upstairs for his phone, and placed a call to the veterinarian’s office. There were no available in-person appointments, but they told James he could drop the cat off with them and they would take some blood and urine samples from Gollum throughout the course of the day.

James didn’t feel particularly good about dropping his sick cat off and leaving him alone, but the alternative was waiting a few days for an open appointment. He thanked the vet tech and said he would be by with his cat within the hour.

With a sigh, James pulled on some clothes, poured coffee into a travel thermos, and managed to get Gollum into his carrier with minimal fuss. Gollum loathed being in a car carrier, and often yowled and growled for the entire duration until he was set free again; the fact that he remained utterly silent and unmoving was testament to the fact he felt poorly.

The drive to the vet’s clinic was unremarkable, as was the transfer of his cat into their care. He confirmed his contact information, and thanked them for being able to take Gollum so quickly.

Since he was already out and about, James stopped by a nearby Walmart for his monthly supply run. He hadn’t thought to bring a list along on what he had assumed would be a quick stop at the vet’s, so he tried his best to remember everything he needed.

He was about to head to the front registers when a display of vibrant colors caught his eye. Paint swatches.

Hmm. Been meaning to repaint my bedroom.

Pulling his shopping cart to the side, James grabbed a booklet and began leafing through for some palette ideas. Currently, his walls were boring off-white, which hadn’t really bothered him before. He always assumed he would eventually get around to repainting, but after nearly two years of living there, everything was the same as when he’d moved in.

No time like the present.

He spent the next half hour poring over paint colors and mentally mapping the colors onto his bedroom walls. He frequently found himself wondering whether Rose would like a certain color, before he shut down that train of thought; it always came back, though. For the past several months, Rose was never more than half a thought away. Despite their current situation, that was a hard habit to break.

In the end, he decided on an eggshell-finish steel blue color that could have passed for gray. A nice, cool, neutral shade (and, despite his best efforts, he was sure Rose would like it too). He added a soft white for his ceiling and a sharp white glossy paint to his order to touch up the trim and crown molding. With his new paint cans in tow, he moved to the next aisle for paint rollers and brushes, protective cloth canvas, tape, a paint tray, and any other painting accoutrements he could find.

On his way home, he stopped by a fast-food drive-thru for a burger and an order of fries. His cholesterol was probably not pleased with him, considering he’d eaten a cheesesteak and fries for dinner the night before, but he ultimately decided to hell with his cholesterol.

It was noontime when he finished his lunch, and he hopped right in with his painting project. It took him an hour to move all of his furniture to the middle of the room, and to unhang the various decorations on his walls. Not sure how long the painting would take, James shifted his entire dresser into his spare bedroom, where he figured he would sleep for the next night or two until the project was finished.

The soothing, repetitive movements of painting were cathartic, which is more than James could have hoped for. It took a fair amount of concentration, especially to make sure he didn’t drip paint where it didn’t belong. He enjoyed cutting in the corners and edges of his walls using one of the small brushes he’d bought, but he didn’t like using the broad paint roller to cover large areas. That was an easy and mindless task, which meant his brain could go back to Rose. And that was definitely not where he wanted his brain to go.

How much longer would his memory replay their fight for him? How long would it take before he stopped thinking about everything he could have and should have said differently? And how long was this break of theirs going to last?

Several times, he had been tempted to take photographs of his bedroom and send them to Rose. A tiny little olive branch, maybe. But no, that was stupid. That would look like he didn’t care about or didn’t want to address their fight.

He still took photos, though, wanting a before and after comparison for his own memories.

He was about to move on to the last wall of his bedroom when the vet called with an update on Gollum. When his phone had rung, his heart had jumped into his throat; he hadn’t been sure whether he was hoping or dreading to see Rose’s name. The crushing disappointment he felt gave him his answer. It took everything he had to not dismiss the call and instead phone Rose, desperate to speak with her and start mending whatever broke between them.

However, he had a duty to his cat, and so he accepted the vet’s call. Gollum, it turned out, had a rather severe urinary tract infection. The vet wanted to keep him overnight to start him on an aggressive antibacterial regimen, and to give him intravenous fluids because the cat was dangerously dehydrated.

The guilt nearly overwhelmed James. He hadn’t realized Gollum hadn’t been drinking or acting any differently; if the cat hadn’t wee’d on the beds, James wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. The vet tech, seeming to sense his distress, assured him that UTIs could frequently get overlooked, but that Gollum should make a full recovery.

“We anticipate you’ll be able to pick him up in a day or two.”

“Great, thanks,” James breathed. “Really. Thanks so much.”

The call reminded him it was time to feed his other cats. He had shut them away into the basement to keep them from wandering into his bedroom while he painted. As he walked down the hall, he could hear Pippin crying and scratching at the door.

“Sorry, sorry,” he called through the door. “One minute, boys. One minute, then I’ll bring down your dindin.”

He grabbed the two empty food dishes in the kitchen, filled them with kibble, grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, and opened the basement door. Pippin bolted upstairs and sprinted directly to where his bowl usually sat. He froze when he saw it wasn’t there, and James couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Right here, bud,” James said, shaking the bowl. “C’mon. You’re dining in the basement tonight, and tomorrow. Until I’ve finished painting. I absolutely do not trust you to not brush up against the wet walls, and I don’t fancy washing paint off of you.”

James continued talking to his cats as he carefully walked down the steps, wary of Pippin and Merry who both were winding around his ankles. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect ending to the past twenty-four hours? His relationship with Rose had crashed and burned, then he went and broke his neck falling down the stairs.

Once the cats were happily eating their dinner, James returned to his bedroom and worked on finishing what he could. He worked diligently until nightfall, pleased with his progress and with how well the color looked. However, he was growing to realize that the warm brown wood of his dresser, nightstand, and bookcases didn’t match with the cooler tones of the room.

Well, he’d been planning to upgrade his furniture anyway from the inexpensive mishmash of pieces he’d found at second-hand shops. Figuring he was done for the night, James set up a rotating fan to help with air circulation then went into his bathroom for a shower. Paint flecks spattered his face, hair, and arms; it took quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing before he was satisfied he’d washed it all off.

Once he was clean, dried, and dressed in pajamas, he exited his bedroom and closed the door behind himself so that he could release his cats from their basement prison. Not particularly hungry but figuring he ought to eat, he cut up an apple and scooped a dollop of peanut butter onto a plate, then took it and his laptop to his couch. Aching and exhausted, James simply sat on his sofa with his head tilted back and his eyes shut.

He nearly dozed off until Pippin clumsily jumped into his lap, nearly upending James’s snack.

“Shoo,” James grumbled, moving his cat to the sofa cushion beside him.

Pippin huffed, then walked in a circle half a dozen times before plopping right next to James’s thigh. Absently stroking his cat, James munched on his pitiful dinner and opened up his laptop to IKEA’s website.

He spent the next hour browsing new bedroom furniture. With the light, cool-toned walls, he thought dark furniture would pop rather nicely. He fell utterly in love with a curved, corner-unit bookcase, and with a long chest of drawers that could fit enough clothes for two people. He favorited both of those pieces of furniture as he wondered what to do with his current furniture. Some of it could be repurposed to other rooms in his house, but others, like his bed frame—if he decided to upgrade that as well—would have to be sold or donated.

The ring of his doorbell interrupted his mental reconfiguration of his home. He leapt to his feet and jogged to his front door, cautiously peering into the peephole to see who was visiting him so late at night. A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man had his face pressed close to the door, as though he could look through the opposite end of the peephole.

James threw open the door. “Jack? What the hell are you doing here?”

The other man scanned his eyes up and down James’s body, taking in the pajamas and his damp, messy hair. A salacious grin crossed Jack’s face.

“Oops, I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?”

It took James a few seconds to realize what Jack meant. Then he wondered why Jack would think he and Rose had been in the middle of having sex. Eventually he remembered that nobody else was aware that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. Which made him remember that he and Rose were in the middle of an argument. His mood soured, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What do you want, Jack?”

Jack simply stared at him for a beat before saying, “It’s Thursday.”

James’s stomach sank. Thursday… pub quiz night… shit.

“We didn’t see you at Molly’s, and none of us had heard from you. I thought maybe you were busy with Rose, caught up in all sorts of delicious debauchery that I would love to hear about. But you don’t exactly seem to be in a state of post-coital bliss, so…”

“What do you want, Jack?” James repeated, gritting his teeth. His sleepless night had finally caught up with him, and he was suddenly exhausted. His body felt leaden and his head began to ache. The last thing he wanted to do was stand in his doorway and have this conversation with his friend/ex-boyfriend.

Jack scrutinized him so intently that James had to fight the urge to slam the door in Jack’s face.

“What’s up with you?”

“None of your bloody business,” James snapped. “Look, it’s late. Sorry I missed trivia night. I’ll be there next week. But if you wouldn’t mind…”

In a move James was not anticipating, Jack stepped forward and into James, startling him into backing up a step. Before he knew it, they were inside his house, and Jack had shut the door behind him.

“What the hell Jack?” James exploded. “I’m not in the bloody mood for this. Get out.”

“Spill. What’s happened?” Jack asked. Before James could shout at him again, he turned his head down the hall, sniffing. “Are you getting your house repainted?”

“Jack!” James followed uselessly as Jack strode down the hall to his closed bedroom door.

The other man threw open the door and flicked on the lights, revealing the messy, freshly-painted bedroom.

“Yes, I’m repainting my bedroom. Congratulations on your deductive reasoning skills. Will you please leave now?”

“Is there a reason you’ve started repainting your room on a random Thursday? That sounds like more of a weekend project.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was out shopping and saw paint swatches and had the urge to repaint my bedroom. So here we are.”

“Why were you out shopping and looking at paint swatches in the middle of a school day? Play hooky, did you? You know, whenever I blow off classes for the day, it’s usually because I’m having sex. Was Rose too busy? Or have you worn her out already?”

James’s cheeks burned, even as his chest crumpled in on itself. He had done his best to not think about Rose all afternoon, yet here was Jack, bringing her up every other sentence.

“Well, at least I can finally say I got you in the bedroom,” Jack said lightly, digging his elbow into James’s ribs.

James managed a weak, half-hearted snort. “Not quite how you expected it though, is it?”

“Admittedly, we were both a lot more naked,” Jack lamented. “I’ll let you save the nakedness for Rose. Speaking of, what does she think of your sudden home makeover?”

James’s stomach hollowed out, and he surprised himself by confessing, “Dunno. Haven’t told her.”

Jack went silent for the first time all night. James could feel his friend’s eyes on him, but he steadfastly inspected his walls, looking for any imperfections he would have to pay close attention to when he applied the second coat.

“James, what happened?”

Jack’s voice was so soft and so knowing that the backs of James’s eyes prickled. Damn. He thought he was done crying. James sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I think… I think Rose and I might be breaking up soon,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Jack simply blinked at him, his face expressionless. “Right. We’re gonna get some alcohol, then you are going to explain everything to me. Why do you think you and Rose are breaking up? You two are the epitome of soulmates, if such a thing exists.”

James snorted, remembering every hurtful thing he and Rose had said last night. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

Jack clapped him lightly on the back, before he encircled his arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Let’s go sit down.”

Keeping his arm where it was, Jack guided James to the kitchen and plopped him into the chair that Rose usually sat in. James didn’t bother moving, and instead watched his friend go to the fridge and pull out a partially-drunk bottle of wine. He and Rose had opened that bottle last weekend. They’d snuggled on the sofa together and made a drinking game out of watching a cooking show together. Half way through the bottle, they’d gotten pleasantly tipsy and had stopped paying attention to the television in favor of making out.

Jack found the cabinet that contained the wine glasses and pulled down two of them. He sat at the table opposite of James, filled the glasses, and pushed one towards him. James gulped down half of it in one go.

“Okay. Tell me everything,” Jack said, topping off James’s wine glass.

The words poured out of him, from every heartbreaking thing Rose had told him, to everything he had said in return. Jack’s face remained impassive as James spoke, never once interrupting, even though James wasn’t sure he managed to capture all of the details as clearly as he would have preferred.

“I’ve ruined everything,” James concluded, polishing off the liquid in his glass before refilling it.

“No, you haven’t,” Jack said gently. “You buggered it up a little bit. But so did Rose. You brought up some valid points, James. You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who is honest and forthcoming. It isn’t a good balance for one person to constantly be sharing while the other remains a closed book. However, it’s not healthy to expect the same level of reciprocity from Rose as what you bring to the table. Especially when you haven’t been upfront with Rose about your expectations. And where you did bugger things up was with shooting yourself down so hard. Especially as a way to excuse what you’ve said, or assumptions you’ve made.”

“But… I genuinely feel like I’m at a complete and utter loss all the time,” James defended, ringing his fingertip around his wine glass. “It’s like… it’s like people innately know how to do this, this romance thing, and I’m bumbling along like an idiot.”

“Were you insecure in your friendship with Rose? Before you began dating? Did you feel any of this last semester?”

James paused, considering. He’d always had some butterflies when he spent time with Rose last semester, but for the most part, he’d simply enjoyed being in her presence. That hadn’t changed at all, despite their new relationship status. She had remained his best friend, the person he always wanted to be around, and the person he wanted to share every piece of his life with.

“No,” he whispered, pressing his fingertips into his eyes.

“Soooo… what’s the difference between being Rose’s friend versus being her boyfriend? I mean, I assume by now that you’re having sex? Apart from that, it’s not like anything really changed. Is the sex bad or something? Do you not like it?”

James felt his cheeks heating as his stomach twisted. Being intimate with Rose was one of the most special things he’d ever shared with someone. Not only did it feel brilliant, better than he ever thought physical pleasure could be, but it was equally as emotionally satisfying. Being vulnerable with Rose hadn’t been terrifying or overwhelming, but rather comforting. There had been nobody he trusted more than Rose.

“No,” he croaked. “No, it’s been… it’s been incredible. Everything with her has been incredible.”

“Has Rose given any indication that she has been dissatisfied with you in any way? Not even with the sex, but just…” Jack waved his hands around in the air. “…in general?”

You’re everything I never thought I deserved to have.

Hot tears burned in his eyes then dripped down his cheeks. Every kiss she’d given him, every squeeze of her hand in his, every sleepy smile that spread across her face when she woke up and saw him… It all raced through his head, a testament to their love.

What have I done?

He pressed his palms into his eyes

“No,” he answered, his voice raw.

Jack sighed. “Oh, James.”

“I know!” He plonked his forehead down onto the table and curled his arms around his head, tugging on his hair until it hurt. “I fucked up, Jack.”

James heard the scraping of chair legs on the floor, then a warm body was pressed tightly into his own. Jack wrapped his arm around James’s shoulders, leaning into him in a sideways hug.

“Much like having sex,” Jack began, “having an argument takes more than one person. Most times, anyway. If either situation is being done by only one person, chances are they’re a wanker.”

James let out a weak laugh, even as his eyes and throat burned with more tears.

“Rose said some very hurtful things,” Jack said, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down James’s arm. “She needs to apologize and address those. But you accused her of some pretty terrible things, too. From what you’ve said, Rose’s relationship with this Jimmy guy was toxic, if not abusive. It’s insulting for you to suggest she would want to go back into a relationship like that.”

James’s stomach ached. He had known for months that Rose’s relationship with Jimmy had been unhealthy, and that her heart had been badly broken. That should have been enough for him. Did he really need to know every single detail of her heartbreak?

No, he decided. No, he didn’t. However, he would have liked to have known that Jimmy had reached out to her. At the very least, James wanted to know why Rose hadn’t wanted to tell him Jimmy had contacted her.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted.

“At least you know you want to fix it,” Jack said, giving James a squeeze. “That’s a good start. It means you’ve determined that what you have with Rose is worth fighting for. But you need to take a long, hard look at what you want from this relationship, and more importantly, what you want from Rose. And you need to be receptive to what she wants from you and your relationship. And you need to work on your own insecurities and stop projecting them onto Rose. That’s a shitty thing to do, James. You have the insecurities, so it’s your job to work through them. Stop making excuses for yourself, and stop projecting them onto Rose.”

“Not sugar coating this at all, are you?” James muttered, though he knew Jack’s advice was sound.

“Nope. I’ve let you mope for a half hour, but now you need to start making things right. And remember. You can only change yourself—you can’t change Rose. So decide what you’re willing to put up with, because she might never be as open as you want her to be. But also set some boundaries for yourself. A relationship is give and take, and lots of compromise. You can’t keep giving and giving and giving, or else you’re not going to have anything left.”

James cocked his head to the side and peeked up at Jack. “Do you have a degree in relationship counseling that I don’t know about?”

Jack laughed, and took his arm away from James’s shoulders to instead ruffle his hair. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“But how do I start a conversation with Rose to tell her I want to fix things?” James asked.

Jack pursed his lips and tapped his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Have you considered anything like “Hi Rose, I really want to make up and then make out”?”

James snorted. “I’ll think of something else. Oh, and I might have some furniture coming tomorrow or Saturday. Wanna help me move stuff?”

Jack winked. “You know, I think I’m busy. Why don’t you see if Rose is free?”

“Subtle,” James drawled. He then sighed. “Thanks for stopping by, Jack.”

“See, aren’t you glad I wasn’t put off by your less-than-warm welcome? If you want to practice your apology skills, I’ll take one.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we said goodbye,” James said, dragging his weary body up from the chair. He collected their empty wine glasses and set them in the sink.

“A piece of advice, don’t try that one with Rose. Maybe try a kiss or two. I’ll take one of those, if you’re offering.”

James rolled his eyes and lightly shoved his friend out of the kitchen. They’d only made it a few steps when the doorbell rang.

“Bit late for a social call, isn’t it?” Jack asked, frowning at James.

James gestured up and down the length of Jack’s body. “You can talk, showing up here at nine o’clock.”

“Touché. Late-night furniture delivery?”

“I haven’t ordered anything yet. Besides, no one would deliver this late.”

Shrugging, James stepped ahead of his friend to yank open the front door. His breath left him in a sharp, little whoosh when he beheld the person standing in the yellow glow of the porch light, cradling a small, plastic container to her stomach.

“Rose.”

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