#let’s just say that the purple spots on her neck and cheek aren’t shadows...

[cuteniaarts]

Some children are simply born with tragedy in their blood

[michelle-is-writing]

Sneaking in, Steve Harrington

Word count: 1.5k~

Sneaking into his girlfriend's room was nothing new for Steve. However, since they hit the one year mark in their relationship, Steve gained the key to (Y/n)'s shared house with her parents along with a cute anniversary card and kiss on the cheek. Still, there were some nights that he wanted to head over to her place without alerting (Y/n)'s parents to his presence by accidentally waking them up. So, instead of using the front door, he stacked chairs and tables against the wall beneath his girlfriend's bedroom window and climbed up.

Finding the window to be unlocked, Steve opened the panel of glass as quietly as he could before stepping in and lightly stumbling on a pair of stray shoes (Y/n) had lazily tossed across the room earlier. Instantly, Steve jerked his head toward her bed and sighed in relief upon seeing his girlfriend still asleep, her head nuzzled deep into her pillow as she lied on her side toward the window. Steve smiled at the sight, his heart beating for her and only her in that moment.

Walking toward her bed, Steve got onto his knees once he reached the side of her bed and leaned over to face her. "Hey, (Y/n)," He whispered, reaching up to brush a stray hair out of her face. His pajama pants rubbed against the harsh carpet floors of her bedroom as he rested his upper body against the top of her bed, leaning his head on his other hand as he gazed at his sleeping beauty. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Waking up from her sleep, (Y/n) immediately became startled at the dark silhouette in front of her, causing her to do the first thing that came to her mind: throw her fist forward at the dark shadow. Of course, Steve was lucky enough to throw himself back in response, but he wasn't fortunate enough to miss (Y/n)'s fist entirely. Instead of punching him in the cheek, her punch landed on his nose, earning a small crack as soon as her hand came into contact with Steve's face.

"Oh!" Steve groaned out in a mix of pain and surprise, covering the middle of his face with both of his hands as he landed on his bottom with a thud. Within a short second, (Y/n) recognized that pained groan and quickly reached over to turn her lamp on, the light from it brightening up her room through the vast darkness that took over it. Once her eyes landed on her boyfriend who was holding his nose in pain, (Y/n) gasped.

"Steve!" She shrieked, clambering out of her bed as her sheets tangled around her feet. Crawling toward him, (Y/n) fought him to remove his hands from his face before assessing the damage on his nose. To her horror, blood began seeping from his nostrils as the skin turned red and inflamed, no doubt about his nose and cheek area turning purple within the next hour.

"Why did you sneak in, honey?" (Y/n) asked him, her voice now filled with concern and worry rather than panic. Pushing his hair back, (Y/n) rested her hands on the sides of his face to make him stare at her. "Why didn't you just come through the front door? I gave you a key!"

At her flustered face, Steve smiled again. "You're so cute," He told her, causing her to roll her eyes, but blush nonetheless. "I didn't want to wake your parents up," He added on. "It's almost two in the morning, and I doubt they want me opening your loud front door with the old and noisy hinges."

"Which you still have to help my dad fix, by the way," (Y/n) reminded him, standing up with him following her.

"I know," Steve assured her, walking alongside her as they headed to her bathroom across the hall. "And don't worry - I will be the best son-in-law to your dad ever."

His words made (Y/n) shake her head and smile, the term 'son-in-law' making her heart beat ten times faster than usual. Steve alone already caused her heart to do that just by being near her, but with the idea of being married to Steve one day clouding her mind, (Y/n) could barely think about anything else at all.

"My parents aren't even home tonight, Steve," She reminded him, as she pulled the toilet seat lid down for him to sit on. "I told you that when you called about going on a date tomorrow morning for breakfast," (Y/n) added, pointing toward the toilet lid for him to sit down on. "So, again, why did you come through my window?"

With him seated and low enough for (Y/n) to clean off the blood around his nose and mouth, Steve realized what she was saying was the truth. He completely forgot what she was saying to him over the payphone speaker because he was too engrossed in his thoughts about giving her the gift he had gotten for her at the mall earlier. "Because coming through the window is much more... romantic?" He proposed, arching an eyebrow at her.

Pulling back from touching his now clean nose to feel if it's broken, (Y/n) stared down at him with pursed lips and a hand on her hip. "Is that your final answer?" She asked, unable to resist the smirk that rose to her lips in response to her boyfriend's goofiness.

Thankful his comment made her smile, Steve wrapped his arms around her hips and pulled her closer between his parted legs, his arms remaining firm in his hold around her. "I do have to say I'm a bit proud knowing my girl can take care of herself," He confessed, forgetting about his broken nose until (Y/n) touched it again, feeling the curve of the bone. He had broken his nose yet again, but thankfully, this time it wasn't because he was defending a group of twelve-year-olds.

"But, for the people who really need to get beat up," Steve tugs his girlfriend closer to him, effectively pushing his chest against her stomach and his chin on her chest. "That's my job," He adds, making her giggle and lightly slap his shoulder.

"Oh hush!" She said to him right before pushing his nose back in place, causing Steve to shut his eyes and go stiff in his movements as the numbing pain rushed through him. Holding her breath, (Y/n) didn't move either until Steve did a few seconds later, letting her release a thankful sigh.

"Thank you, baby," Steve told her, rising up from the toilet lid to once again stand a few inches taller than (Y/n). Still holding her tightly against him, the red-and-blue-faced boy smiled down at her as his eyes scanned over her gorgeous face. For having just woken up, she was utterly beautiful without anything covering her perfect face, and not to mention she was sexy as hell dressed in only his t-shirt and her panties.

Watching his eyes never leave her face, (Y/n) returned his bliss-filled stare with a giggle soon falling from her lips. "What?" She couldn't help but ask as he continued to gaze down upon her, his facial expression never changing in the slightest. Without answering her questions, Steve jerked (Y/n) up into his arms and carried her back into her room, her legs stuck around his waist the entire time.

"Oh, I don't know if we'll make it to breakfast tomorrow," Steve told her, gently tossing her down onto her messy bed before hovering over her and pressing his lips to hers in a passionate and heavy kiss. The meaning behind his seemingly innocent words made her let out a laugh without the worry of waking her parents. However, once her lips parted from his, she remembered something.

"Wait, wait, Steve, your nose!" (Y/n) reminded him, quickly trying to sit up to go and get a bag of frozen peas for him. "We need to put ice on it so it doesn't swell!"

Just as (Y/n) began to slide out from beneath Steve, he wrapped his arms around her once again and pulled her close, her back pressed up against his chest. "I need you more though," He simply muttered before attaching his lips to her neck and sucking on the skin, leaving purple spots there that would definitely match the area around his nose in the morning. Although (Y/n) wanted to try and reduce the swelling of his nose as much as she could, she couldn't help but lose that thought as other thoughts began arising to her minds while a warm hand began roaming underneath her shirt and over her soft skin.

The next morning, they did end up going to breakfast with (Y/n) wearing a turtleneck in the middle of summer and Steve smirking the entire time, trying his hardest to ignore the pain it caused his nose.

[vinyleee]

Kisaki (25) x Reader (18+)

tw: death, guns, blood

☆*:.｡. o

you held your breath as you stood between the two burly men that escorted you in the cramped elevator. the light was dim, even so it produced a glare against the scuffed metal. flashes of vibrant lights shown in the windows from the city, green and purple scattered against the thin surface of your red dress. he had requested you wear it tonight, for it was ‘a special occasion’

“damn how much longer is this lift going to take,” one of the guards grunted out looking at the key panel as he fiddled with his gun. he traced the tip of his index finger over the sights, as if preparing himself to aim at someone.

“heh, might take a half hour more for all we know… boss ordered us to take her all the way to the penthouse so it’s not like we can just get off on the next floor.” The other guard replied rolling his shoulders back, fixing his posture.

you released your breath and looked at the guard to your right, still fixed on his gun. you studied the features of his face as he lifted the gun up to look through the sights.

“hmm what’s wrong miss.. heh.. do you want to play?” he chortled when he noticed you staring. ‘here, don’t be shy.’

he placed one large hand on the small of your back, causing you to shiver. “don’t worry im friendly…”he grinned when you put a hand out to stop him from getting to close. he saw it as an opening, he placed the pistol he had been studying in your hand.

the weight of the gun shocked you, but it felt… almost comfortable. as you wrapped your fingers around the handle the gripping rubbed against your skin. it felt natural to you.

you twisted your wrist left and right to see the different angles of the pistol. nothing was rather interesting about the pistol except for a few tally marks, you guess to mark how many victims it had killed.

“hey now what are you doing giving that to her?”the other man bit out as you raised the gun up to see yourself just what the other guard found so enticing about the gun.

“oh come on were just having fun! right little lady?”,the one who handed you the gun chuckled.

you ignored him and looked up to the ceiling, your eyes moving across the space between the dying fluorescent lights. trying to spot a camera or a microphone somewhere you stood up on the tips of your toes and traced your fingers directly above you were standing. there was a slight convex in the metal that you skimmed the tips of your fingers over.

he was watching.

you felt reassured as you brought your hand back down to your side. “here, Ive had enough fun.” you sigh handing the man his gun back.

“oh silly you.. I’m not,” he put the gun back in its holster and placed his hands on your waist. he brought you into his chest and put his nose to the top of your head, breathing in your scent.

“ugh as soon as I take over this place and kill boss, you’re gonna be mine baby…”he said tracing one hand up your exposed back, from the opening of the dress.

“what are you saying?” the other guard said as he pried his partners hands off you. “you’ve lost it haven’t you? do you know who he is? he isn’t just some wanna be gangster… he’s kisaki.”

‘kisaki.’ the word rang through your ears, and left a warmth in your cheeks as if he had just caressed your face. kisaki, your kisaki.

you relaxed instantly at the sound of his name. ‘ah let him do as he pleases.’ you raise a hand up stopping the guards from a fight that neither of them would come back from.

just then the elevator chimes. “for fucks sake about time.”

you let out an exasperated sigh as you stepped out of the elevator. behind you the two men silently cursed at each other as the followed after you.

“stay by my side”, the guard set on stealing your heart said lightly wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling out his gun once more, except this time ready to pull the trigger on anyone who threatened your safety.

the other, more collected, guard walked a few steps in front of you with his gun trained in front of him. he looked down the turns and twists of the hallways that lead to different rooms of kisakis building. he kept his back close to the wall and stuck out his gun first then his head peaked out ever so slightly around the corner.

at the end of the hall you could make out shadows of men pacing back in forth through a crack in the door. suddenly the air around you felt static, why would kisaki call you to his penthouse and have two… very unqualified guards escort you.

your head started to throb as you searched for an answer. each scenario you played out in your head led to someone dying. that was the best case. you didn’t want to think of worse ones, so you stopped to take a deep breath.

‘nothing is going to happen’ you reassured yourself. kisaki would protect you. there was nothing to fear.

as you neared the door to kisakis pent house you heard someone murmur a few distasteful things about you.

“why do you keep that bitch around, she does nothing but distract you boss. your priorities aren’t straight anymore…”

“hmm so that’s how you truly feel,” you heard kisaki laugh.

as you approached the door you pictured the expression kisaki was making as kisaki laughed. his face was probably flushed with excitement, and his eyes were probably just as piercing as ever.

you felt your breath hitch as you thought of his eyes. the way they could make you fear for your life in an instant, turned you on.

closing your eyes yet again, you imagined kisaki restraining your hands above your head and staring you down with those eyes. you imagined him pressing his knee into your dripping pussy and forcing you against the wall.

“ehem”, the guard who had been swatting through turns of each hallway cleared his throat, trying to get your attention.

“hm what is it”, you turned around to face him after he whisked you away from your fantasy.

“we should go inside now before kisaki gets upset that we took so long…” the corners of his eyes squinted as he winced, imagining what would happen to him if he didn’t follow kisakis orders.

“ok then, shall we?” you straighten your shoulders and fix your hair before gently pushing the thick double doors open.

“boss I just think you should…never mind, if you’ll excuse me.” the man who spoke ill of you muttered stepping to the right to avoid coming into contact with the opening doors.

as the doors swung open and the two guards walked into the penthouse you took in as much of the room as possible.

the entire penthouse was made up of windows. lights from the city flooded in making the use of no lights seem rather understandable. kisaki leaned against a mahogany desk directly across from you. his arms folded over his pinstripe vest, his sleeves rolled up exposing the veins from his hands to his forearms. the purple and green lights that had danced across your dress in the elevator now illuminated kisakis figure.

“no,” kisaki gritted through his teeth at the man who wanted so desperately to leave after bad mouthing you. “you stay, and you my darling come here” he raised one finger up and curled it back, beckoning you.

you let out a shaky breath as you stepped forward, your hands bunching up pieces of the red dress he had requested.

“ah why so nervous sweetheart?” kisaki mocked taking long steps toward you, “you look perfect in that dress I ordered for you. as I knew you would.”

“thank you…” you said in a hushed voice, avoiding his eyes.

in a half of a second his hand was on your jaw, pulling your face towards his, “look at me when you speak to me, bitch”

you let out a surprised whimper at his sudden aggressiveness, your face flushed with heat. your head started to spin with anticipation. kisakis lips were inching closer to yours. his breath warm against your mouth.

he licked his lips and smiled as he pulled away, “ah ah ah, not just yet sweetheart we have some business to take care of.”

you shook your head and turned around to see the expressions of the ‘business’. you had known what was going to happen. you turned back around to face kisaki yet again.

he was now sitting on the desk with his legs spread and a mocking smile plastered on his face, “won’t you come sit” he patted his leg.

as you approached him you heart raced, his touch would turn you into a thoughtless animal searching for the pleasure that only he could deliver.

“good girl”, he murmured into your ear, nibbling on it a bit, when you placed yourself into his lap.

you wrapped an arm over his shoulders and placed your other hand on his chest. you ran your hands over the cloth of his vest, eventually you tugged on his tie a bit, begging him silently.

he slid his perfect hands around your waist and pulled you in closer to him. the scent of sage and liquor wafted into your nose as you put your face in the crook of his neck. he was so intoxicating.

“mmm you’re just so impatient tonight hmm” he said tracing a hand up your thigh and under you dress slipping two fingers into your panties.

“boss.” one of the guards whispered, “can we leave?”he rocked back and forth on his heels uncomfortably waiting for a response.

kisaki brought his eyes up to the men and sighed, “cant you see im busy, now be patient and wait for your orders until then.. keep your mouths shut.”

you let out a breath as he turned his attention back to you, biting your collarbone. “ah fuck,” he breathed into your neck. “i just can’t wait to be inside you.” he lifted his head and grinned at you.

you bit your lip as he placed two fingers against your dripping cunt. he rubbed soft, gentle circles into your pussy. your body twitched under his touch, your head felt light and you could feel the heat starting to rise up.

he slid his other hand from your waist directly up to the small of your back while pushing two fingers inside you. he chuckled as he felt you wrap around him in excitement. “oh you want me so bad don’t you slut?” he pushed his fingers deeper inside you. “say it and maybe I’ll give you what you want so bad”

“kisaki I want you… I want you so bad, please.” you whined out gripping his tie tightly.

“aren’t you ashamed, begging for me to fuck you in front of three strangers? mm not so lady like of you.” he said, abruptly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them.

“my apologies gentleman we should get back to business.” he lifted you off of him and placed you on the desk as he stood up. he took his time walking around to reach into a drawer, in which he pulled out a glock.

“kisaki…what’re you doing?” you asked trying to collect yourself after kisaki toyed with you.

“ah don’t worry princess just look at me, ok?” he stepped beside you grabbing your hand and training the gun to the man who had come onto you in the elevator.

“you shouldn’t have underestimated me, I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know what you did to her. offering a women a gun, have you no sense?” kisaki smiled pulling the trigger before the guard could answer in his defense.

you kept your eyes on kisaki even when you heard the guards body thump as he hit the floor. even when you knew the pool of blood that seeped from his corpse would spread out to the furniture. even still, you’re eyes never looked away from kisaki.

you squeezed your legs together when you saw kisakis smile grow and his eyes squint. the light shining in through the windows made him stand out against the darkness of the room. on your own face the light scattered onto you as well.

“now who’s next? hmm?” he chuckled moving his gun back and forth between the last two men. “you, the one bad mouthing my property, and questioning my priorities. you really are so stupid.” again he pulled the trigger. and still you kept your eyes on him. you felt heat rising up in your chest as you watched his smile grow with every person he killed.

“ah, the last man standing.” kisaki released your hand and stood up. he walked over to the last person he was yet to kill in the room. “you did well today, you followed my orders thoroughly. you can leave now. oh but one more thing, call someone to clean this mess up.” he used his gun to point at the bodies sprawled on the floor.

“y-yes sir” the last man stammered out before speeding out the door.

“finally” kisaki raised his arms up as he turns around to face you. “youve been such a good girl you deserve a reward.”

he came back to the desk where you sat cross legged waiting for him to give you the pleasure he denied you before. putting a finger out he removed a strand of hair from your eyes and put it behind your ear.

“do you know how many people I’ve ordered to kill for me? hmm you don’t think I wouldn’t kill for you? after all the things they did to you? stripping you of your clothes with their eyes. you’re mine, and I’ll kill anyone who doesn’t fucking agree. all mine princess, now I think it’s time for you to show me your appreciation. on your knees slut.”

your mouth watered as you slid down to the floor. kisaki rubbed his cock through his pants waiting for you to do as he ordered. unbuttoning his pants you moved one hand up under his shirt to feel more of him. “im getting impatient,” he whispered gripping some of your hair and pushing your face down onto his cock.

you licked circles around his tip and up his shaft, causing him to grunt and pull your hair roughly. you brought your hands up to stroke him as you sucked.

the air was filled with the sound of slurping and choking. you felt him deep in your throat, making you want more.

you’re head bobbed up and down as you picked up speed sucking and licking all around his cock. “ah fuck, just like that” he groaned out throwing his head back with pleasure. your hands came down to your pussy to touch yourself as you pleasured him. the more of a reaction you got from him the worse you needed him.

he pulled you by your hair taking your mouth of off his cock. “did I give you permission to touch yourself?” he leaned down grinning in your face.

“n-no but…” you stammered trying to find the words to say in your fuzzy head.

“then take your hands away from yourself and keep sucking you slut.” he thrusted his cock into your mouth as you brought your hands back up.

you moaned as his dick slid deeper down your throat, you did your best to lick and suck but your movements were getting sluggish from the pleasure.

“cmon,” he whined out thrusting into your mouth, “you can go a little longer. isn’t this what you wanted bitch? or would you rather be riding me right now?”

you looked up at him through watery eyes trying to beg him to give you the pleasure you needed so badly.

he pulled out of your mouth and picked you up laying you down on the table.

“youve done enough, good job princess.” he sighed kissing you lips gently before climbing on top of you. his face hung inches away from yours as he smiled, “since you were so impatient earlier I’ll give you what you want, but I cant promise I’ll be nice.”

he slid the dress of off you from your shoulders, following that he ripped off your panties and bra. he spread open your legs and licked circles around your nipples as he thrust into you.

you moaned out his name in surprise, he wasn’t going to go easy on you. you gripped the sides of the desk as he continuously thrust into your dripping pussy.

suddenly he stopped, taking off his glasses and shoving his tongue down your throat. “you’re insides feel so fucking good” he breathed as your tongues met. he sucked and bit your lip when you released the kiss for a breath, a string of saliva attached your mouths.

“ah ah ah, you don’t get any breaks.” he laughed breathlessly while groping your titties. you let out small whimpers as he slowly started to thrust into you again.

his breathing became erratic and his hands came up to your thighs as he came to his climax. “so fucking close, princess” your insides twitched around him as you neared yours as well.

you felt him twitch inside you as he came, “ah fuck” he whined out, moaning your name.

your hands came up to his face as he thrusted into you slowly, his movements becoming more sluggish. his face was flushed and wet with sweat. the slowness and sweetness of his movements felt even better then when he was going fast.

“ah kisaki…” you released onto his cock as you gripped his tie. he shoved his tongue down your throat yet again not allowing you a break from the pleasure.

“you can hold on a little longer cant you doll.” his warm breath breezed over your face as your eyes teared up once more.

“y-yeah” you gasped trying to catch your breath.

he shoved himself deeper inside you causing your back to arch and you to moan out his name. “god that’s what I wanted to hear, your pretty little voice… now I won’t stop till I have you screaming out my name.”

he placed a hand on your cheek and smiled devilishly, hearing you moan out so desperately gave him his motivation to go rough back.

your mind was flooded with pleasure as kisaki railed into you on the desk. by the end of the night all you knew was the sound of skin clapping against skin and the squelching noises of your fluids mixing with his. all you felt was kisaki inside you, so deep you could feel him in your guts.

you watched his desperate expression as he made you cum over and over again, the smile that stretched across his face every time you moaned out his name and begged him to make you cum. all you wanted was the taste of his mouth in yours. you wanted to feel his tongue in your mouth like two dancers performing a waltz.

you came over and over again to kisaki until you had nothing left. “kisaki… ah… please stop.. I cant cum anymore.”

“oh baby i know you have more in you.” he grinned as he slammed into you faster and whined as the pleasure was getting to be too much for him too.

“ah.. kisaki.. I’m gonna…” before you could get it out kisaki started sucking on your titties as he slowed down the pace.

“i thought you had nothing left.” he laughed when he felt you twitching around him again.

“i didn’t ” you whimpered, hands coming up to his back tugging on the fabric of his vest he didn’t have time to take off.

your body twitched under him as you held onto him, the pleasure wouldnt stop. slowly he pulled his sopping cock out of your twitching pussy and started leaving love bites all over you.

“ahh it still feels…” Kisaki shushed you before you could continue

“just relax,” he said combing his fingers through your hair and sitting you up. “I went to far im sorry. I… I just wanted you to know I’d do anything, for you.”

you relaxed into his arms and closed your eyes. you knew, even if he didn’t kill those men for you, and even if he didn’t pleasure you past your limit. you knew.

“thank you kisaki…”

authors note: this was my first serious ff so im sorry if it ended weird.. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I hoped you enjoyed it either way (^_−)−☆

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ Heated ~

Warnings: Hybrid!au, bunny!fem!reader x wolf!dom!Bangchan x kitty!dom!Minho, threesome, consensual sex (YALL BE SAFE), penetrative sex (AGAIN, BE SAFE), reader goes into heat idfk?, jealousy (like a lot), nicknames (bunny, slut), sliiight dacryphilia, blowjobs, fingering, cum eating, creampie. 

Word Count: 2,556 words (YO CHILL)

Requested: YE thank u anon *tips fedora* 

Note: YALL this is the first time ive EVER written something like this and tbh i didn’t even know wtf hybrids did so i did my research lmao and if this sounds hella uneducated it’s because i am.... i studied biology in school but... not this 😳

Also I CANT FIND ANY GOOD GIFS OF THEM TOGETHER

A bunny, a wolf and a cat in the same space was anything but calm. You knew because that’s how you lived. 

“Y/n! We’re leaving” exclaimed Bangchan from the hallway. They had some sort of meeting to attend which they told you about at dinner yesterday. You ran to the hallway in order to say farewell to your two loving boyfriends, that small tail of yours wiggling in the air. 

Being much smaller than they were you jumped a tiny bit to reach their lips, kissing them goodbye. 

“Be safe!” you yelled out the door as you saw their figures disappear.

“We will!” they yelled back in unison before the three of you giggled. 

You were hit by the cold breeze from outside as you closed the heavy front door. Already missing them you sat down on the grey couch, throwing a blanket over yourself and putting on some TV show. 

Hours later you heard a distinct chatter getting closer. It was Bangchan and Minho! The door handle of the front door rustled and your ears jerked to the location from where the sound was coming from. The two boys walked into the shared apartment giggling and chatting but something wasn’t right. Your scent never deceived you and in that moment you could have sweared that the smell of another female hybrid was lurking around them. You walked up to them and hugged both the boys, not wanting to make a scene just as they entered. Minho patted you on the head and ears and as you stood closer to the duo there was no doubt in your mind that they had been around another female in her heat since the pheromones change during that time. 

“Had fun?” you asked them while they took of their shoes. 

“It was alright” Minho said plainly. You were confused by the lack of emotions on his face. He walked straight by you, tail just as emotionless as his face. Bangchan pecked your forehead as your eyes were still glued to Minhos figure. 

“What’s with him?” you asked the bigger boy.

“I..I don’t know y/n”. His voice sounded unsure and that only added to your suspicion. The smell of a female hybrid was still hitting your nose and so without thinking you blurted out to Bangchan;

“Were you near other girls?”

He was caught off guard by your brash question. His shaking pupils and flattened ears gave you an answer which made your blood boil.

“I can smell it on you Bangchan, don’t lie” you said with a stern voice while you looked up intensely at the boy. 

He was frozen in place and couldn’t form a sentence before you slammed him towards the wall. Maybe slammed is a overexaggeration, more like pushed because he was double your size.  

“Ok y/n! We might have...hugged a female and then realized she was going through her heat but we didn’t mean it!” he blurted out, scared of the fact that your ears were now tight against your head. 

Now you understood why Minho had run off in such a hurry. When another female was in her heat it could trigger other hybrids as well and you felt the effects right away. Not only were you aggravated but helplessly rubbing your thighs together. 

You stepped aside letting Bangchan go to which he did the same thing as Minho and hurried out of your sight. You stood there dumbfounded and horny. They had caused a problem and now they were going to have to fix it. Stomping, you made your way to the room from where you heard anxious chatter which was the bedroom. 

“BANGCHAN AND MINHO!” you flung the bedroom door open and the chatter died down. You were met with two pairs of freightened eyes staring at you from the bedroom floor. 

“Uhm...y-y/n... are you sure that you aren’t going through your heat right now?” Minho said hesitantly not wanting to annoy you even more. 

You bolted to the cat-like boy and with a handful of this t-shirt you threw him against the wall, nearly knocking down a picture frame. Yet again, ‘threw’ being an overexaggeration but what wasn’t an overexaggeration was your temper. 

Minho’s breath hitched as his back hit the wall Bangchan was still glued to the floor, not moving in fear of pissing you off even more. You looked Minho dead into the eyes but you were immedietly flustered as he smirked, responding to your eye contact with his slightly yellow cat eyes. The smirk turned into a insulting laughter as he licked his lips. His shadow was cast on you which made you appear small in comparison. The catboy approached you slowly, his fluffy tail standing up and wagging from side to side. Your ears got low as you backed away from him, still looking into his yellow marbled eyes. Bangchan’s gaze moved along your movements and stopped when you were blocked by the bed and couldn’t move away any longer. You sat down on the bed making you even smaller as Minho towered over you. His soft tail brushed against your arm sending a shiver down your spine. His ears twitched once before he bent down, feeling his warm breath against your cheek as he looked you into those innocent bunny eyes.

“Good bunnies don’t act like that, isn’t that right Bangchan?” 

Your eyes shifted towards the wolf-like boy that had now stood up and was getting closer to you. You clenched your thighs together as you felt bare under Minhos intense gaze.

“Look at our little bunny, feeling desperate?” Bangchan cooed as he spread your legs with his foot, leaning towards you just like Minho. 

“It’s n-not fair!” you proclaimed, leaning back on your hands against the bed and gripping the bedsheets, squeezing the fabric tightly.

“What’s not fair? It’s not our fault our little bunny is such a slut and heats so easily” he purred towards you. He wasn’t wrong.

Bangchan sat down beside you, feeling the weight of the bed shift. He snaked his big hands up your thigh eventually reaching your sopping cunt. You grinded against his hand and tried to gain some sort of friction between his warm hand and your clothed pussy. Minho grinned before he crashed his lips onto yours and once again his smugness shoked you. The kiss was wet and sloppy in contrast to his teeth that were sharp. You moaned in the kiss as Bangchan had slipped his hand underneath your panties and was now feeling your wet folds.

“We’ve barely done anything bunny” he growled against your ear as his canines poked out of his mouth. You shuddered, not only from Bangchans voice but how his two digits entered into your aching cunt at the same time Minho was swirling his tongue around yours. 

Bangchan took off his clothes and then yours while the kiss advanced. Minho tilted his head and cupped your face into his hands as he rubbed his thumbs across your cheeks. You broke the kiss to catch a breath of air but before you knew it Bangchan layed you down on the bed, hovering above your naked figure. In the corner of your eye you saw Minho slowly undressing, his hardening member springing out of his underwear. 

Bangchan attached his plump lips on yours that were slightly swollen from the intense kiss earlier. His hands roamed free on your body and kneaded your breasts firmly. The small whimpers that came out of your mouth only teased Bangchan more, now sucking purple marks onto your neck and boobs. Eventually he reached down to your throbbing cunt, kissing it a couple times before flattening his tongue against your folds. Moaning, you grabbed a fistful of his thick hair, pressing his face nearer. His tongue worked like magic as it twirled around your enlarged clit, feeling his sharp teeth from time to time when he softly nibbled on it. His tongue jabbed at you needy hole, making wet sounds everytime he did that. The pleasure was immense which was seen by the way your legs shaked. Bangchan saw the pained expression on your face as you were struggeling to part your legs and decided to give you a helping hand by pinning you things down to the bed, slowly tracing his fingers up and down them. Just as you arched your back Minho appeared and tapped Bangchan on the shoulder as a sign to move away. Bangchan nodded and sat further down the bed, pumping his raging erection as his eyes watched how Minho’s face got closer to yours. Those vertical slits in Minho’s eyes never failed to make you scared. His soft fingertips traced downwards as he stared at you and as his fingers reached your cunt that was sucked dry moments earlier he inserted two fingers without any precautions making your ears lurch up. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him with a pleasurable expression on your face but he just smirked that teasing smirk yet again. His fingers pumped in and out of you at the same pace that Bangchan was pumping himself. His tip was coated with a drop of precum and his girth made your mouth water. When Minho’s fingers started reaching your g-spot you tightly shut your eyes as moans spilled out of you like liquid. He kissed you on your forehead before pulling out his fingers, leaving you empty. You groaned at the loss of contact but was quickly filled up again when Bangchan alined his member with your hole before sliding into you with ease. His tail brushed again your leg as he started pounding into you, not giving you any time to adjust. Minho couldn’t just sit there and jerk off, he needed to get into the action as well and so he yanked you by the hair, almost gripping your ears and rested his dick on your swollen lips. You looked up towards his cat-like face and hesitated because Bangchans was already sending you into overdrive. Minho saw the hesitation in your eyes before scoffing and saying;

“you wanted this slut” 

He was right. You mouth was longing for his length. All hesitation washed away as you started sucking him off. First licking the tip before sinking down on his shaft, feeling him twitch inside your wet mouth. You were trying your best, bobbing your head up and down with speed but as Bangchan thursted into you harder and harder you couldn’t help but to occasionally let out a broken moan against Minho’s hard dick. This pissed him off. He pulled your hair, moving your face closer to abdomen as you choked on his dick.

“Suck it properly” he hummed before letting you go harshly. You coughed and moaned at the same time, all kind of sounds dribbling between your red lips. 

Bangchan was close and you knew by the way his thrusts were getting more aggressive but just as a scream of pleasure was on it’s way out of you he pulled out. White ropes of cum covered your stomach and hipbone as Bangchan milked himself out of every drop, groaning and biting his lip while doing so. Minho pulled you up by your arm and harsly flipped you around on all fours. Now it was his time to have fun. His rock hard member entered your fuck out hole making you grip the sheets firmly, knuckles turning white. Even if he was smaller than Bangchan his dick sure wasn’t as it filled you up to the brim, the sensation of being stuffed coaxing a few whines from you. Minho held you by your hips and thrusted into you at an animalistic speed, the sound of skin slapping against each other filling the room. Your moans sharpened Bangchan’s ears and before he knew it his limp dick was hard yet again. Your head hanged down as you tightly shut your eyes, trying not to scream whilst gripping the sheets but you felt Bangchan’s hand cup your chin, lifting it up to face him. Looking up you saw his broad figure, his member right infront of your face. The look in his eyes was endearing, being a wolf hybrid he is often misinterpreted for being evil but you knew the love he had for both you and Minho. He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand before sliding two fingers across your lips. Without command you started sucking on them, earning a smirk from the wolf-like boy. Upon removing them a loud pop was heard and he instead replace them with his dick. Minho’s thrusts made you jerk forward, Bangchan’s dick hitting the back of your throat and accidentally choking you. Tears burned in the corners of your eyes but you kept looking at Bangchan through those tear stained eyes because his eyes were filled with love, reassuring you. The difference in pace and attitude almost broke you. Minho’s dick twitched inside of your cunt, his member fitting perfectly between your velvety walls while Bangchan was taking his time, gently moaning and looking at you, stroking your ears backwards as he admired how pretty you looked with his dick stuffed in your mouth with drool spilling from the corners of those petal-like lips. 

Minho was going even faster, your boobs bounced with his movements and made you choke even more on Bangchan’s dick. He glared at Minho with narrowed eyes, angry that he made you uncomfortable and such a mess beneath him.  Minho being the smug cat that he is didn’t care. He wanted to see you even more wrecked and so his last couple of thrusts were hard, pounding into you almost like a piston. Minho was getting more vocal, letting out groans and breathy moans. As you looked at Bangchan with a fucked out expression with his dick in your mouth Minho came inside of you. The white liquid coated your insides and make a squelching sound as Minho rode out his orgasm with small nudges into your pussy. Minho’s length was pulled out of you, his cum leaking in drops down your thighs. Bangchan’s head rolled back as his girthy dick twitched in your mouth once before his cum spewed down your throat. His canines poked out once again signaling pleasure as he patted you on the head. With a loving expression you looked him straight in those narrow eyes and swallowed, your adams apple bobbing from the action. He smiled down at you and pulled you up for a kiss as Minho’s cum was still dripping down your leg.

Bangchan pulled away from the kiss and layed down on the bed panting. Minho stepped inside the bedroom with a towel in his hand which he threw at you. 

“You did well” he said shallowly before he muttered something under his breath. “Didn’t deserve it”.

Bangchan frowned towards the boy. “y/n always deserves it, shes our bunny after all” he said while wiping you down as you giggled when the touched your sensitive parts.

“Yeah but if you try to dominate me once more you won’t be able to walk” Minho said as he layed down onto the bed, pulling you closer to his slightly sweaty body. 

“I-.. I won’t” you murmured but the three of you knew it was a lie. 

[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 3 – Kids' Games To Pass The Time

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5,399

New day, new problems. Sure things aren't the worst they could be, but that new hire isn't making things all that easy at work.

Last Chapter | Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

An annoying, rhythmic buzz cut through silence. Light seeped its way in, chasing away the shadows of sleep. You groaned and rolled. It was too early to face the new day.

Compounding your groggy state was the fact you didn't sleep for shit last night. The chilly October night sucked the warmth from your room, and you had only a few blankets to shield yourself from it. And the chill didn't stop your mind racing most of the night. When sleep came to you, it brought restless dreams.

The first wasn't terrible, just strange. A weird bug followed you home wanting to be friends. The other dream, however... A vile pit formed in your stomach.

Your thoughts drifted to the dream. You couldn't move. Arms, legs, head, nothing. You couldn't budge an inch no matter how hard you fought. Something wanted you to stay still. And it wasn't as if your surroundings gave you any clues either. Darkness blanketed the room. No details, just a barren inky void. The only thing you found with you was a set of pinprick lights.

A voice spoke. It whispered beautiful words coated in honey. Your guts twisted. A warm touch held your face, and the voice asked you a question. Your words caught in your throat. The entity glared at you with icy eyes, and the sweet words soured to a nasty venom.

You clutched your chest as the memory of searing heat replayed. It sank blazing claws into your waist and arm, blistering and cooking the flesh.

You drew in shaky breaths and wiped away the leftover tears. It was just a dream. It was just a bad dream. You're safe.

You took in one more breath before getting up to start your day.

Normally you would go straight to the bathroom, but you wanted to check something. You stepped out into the main living space and found it empty. A DVD case sat on the coffee table, but the TV screen was dark. The couch laid devoid of any unexpected house guests. No sign anyone else was ever there. Your heart sank as you realized the encounter you remembered was just another dream cooked up by your tired brain. A frown pulled at your lips and you sighed. No time to mope. You needed to get ready for work.

You opened the bathroom door and peered inside. Rigel napped on the top of the toilet's water tank, surrounded by shredded toilet paper. At least it was less of a mess than yesterday. You clean up the ribbons and tossed them in the garbage under the sink. After you topped off his food and water, you hopped in the shower.

The water in your apartment only ever got up to lukewarm on a good day. And that was not a good day. Frigged rain pelted you, giving you goosebumps. Not wanting to linger, you got out and dressed a few minutes later.

You combed your fingers through your hair as you looted the kitchen. Damn cat, why'd it have to throw up on your hairbrush? You grumbled to yourself and pulled out the off-brand cereal to fix breakfast.

"What 'cha doing, babes?" A voice from nowhere spoke in your ear.

Your knees buckle and you collapse, taking the bag of cereal with you. You gripped at your chest to still your heart, and rolled to sit with your back to the cabinets. A man in a rotting striped suit floated in your kitchen, clutching his rounder stomach as he cackled.

"Oh sweets, that's great! I wasn't even trying!"

As the shock fades, your features scrunched up. You got to your feet and tossed the bag on the counter. With crossed arms you pivot to glare at the ghost, still laughing his ass off.

"Giving me a heart attack first thing in the morning," you said with a huff, "I came out here and you were gone. I thought I had dreamed the whole thing, you jerk."

"So you're saying you missed me?" He batted his eyes at you, setting your cheeks on fire. You would not dignify that with a response. Instead, you turned back to the counter and fixed your breakfast.

"Where did you go then?" you asked and riffled through the silverware drawer for a spoon.

"I was checking on your neighbors. Did you know the guys a few doors down have a shit-ton of electronics?"

"Yeah, and old lady Smith has a garden in her closet."

"Really? Which one is she in? I didn't find that."

"She's on the third floor, but don't bug her too much. She's nice. Plus she bakes amazing cookies for me whenever I help her."

You scarfed your breakfast, and double checked you had everything done. Rigel was in the bathroom with his things. You had your wallet and phone. After you finished the last bite, you set the bowl in the sink along with the one from last night.

You rinsed out the bowl and hummed to yourself before you glanced over your shoulder to the ghost. He grinned at you with a tilt of his head. You gave him a small smile, only to frown.

"I have to head to work."

That simple sentence wiped the grin from his face. His shoulders sank, and the color of his hair shifted. A dull purple seeped in and overtook the green. That couldn't be a good sign. "You're leaving me here?"

"Well, you could stay here, or..."

"Or?"

"If you can be out of the way and let me focus on my work when I need to, then you could tag along with me. It’d be nice having someone other than my boss to talk to during the downtime."

His grin stretched across his face again, and he spun up to you, batting his eyes. "Oh babes, you do care! Of course I'll go with you! Not my idea for a first date, but I'll take it."

You pressed your lips tight. Was this a mistake? Not like you can take back the offer, though. That would crush him. You let out a long sigh and rubbed at your temple.

"Not a date, dude."

"If you say so," he purred.

You shook your head and grabbed the keys before heading to the car. The ghost trailed you, with an ever present chill at your side. On the way to the car, he pointed out each of the apartments and spilled whatever secrets he found out. You had an inkling of some of your neighbors' crimes, but you weren't one to go tattling. It was best to let them deal with their lives and you deal with yours. So you ended up nodding along to what the ghost told you.

When you got to your car, you sat behind the wheel for a moment. Once your ghostly friend floated into the passenger seat, you took in a breath.

"Okay. A few things before we get there," You said as you fought to start the car, "If either my boss or a customer comes up and needs to talk to me, I would appreciate it if you hang back for a minute and let me handle them. Otherwise, I mostly just front-face merchandise and I can talk with you so long as I'm quiet. Also, I take my lunches in the cemetery, so I can talk a bit more freely there."

"Sounds good to me, toots."

You rolled your eyes and got the hunk of junk started. The car protested with clangs, but you drove off with a little more of a fight. On the scenic drive to work he asked you to turn on the radio, which got a dry laugh from you.

"What's so funny?"

"Radio's broke. Most things in this car are broken. Radio, heater, a/c. All of them are broken."

"Can't you get a new one? There's cars all over the place, just take one."

"Th-this isn't Grand Theft Auto,"

"It will be once you take a car!"

"Okay, technically true. I meant this isn't the game GTA, this is real life. And I would get arrested."

"Not if you had help from the ghost with the most!"

You rolled your eyes and turned onto the main road, heading for work. The rest of the drive, the "ghost with the most" filled the air with his own voice, singing a medley of songs. Some of them you recognized, others you suspected he made up on the spot.

You pulled into the employee parking and parked your car alongside the two much nicer ones there. As you collected your things, Beetlejuice pointed to the sleek mustang.

"That car looks fun! We should steal a car like that!"

"I'm pretty sure that's Brandon's car. I'm not stealing my coworker's car to take for a joyride."

"But it would be so cool!"

"Maybe later," you said, stepping out of your junker.

The bell chimed as you entered the store and caught your boss's attention. He came over to greet you and made sure you were doing better. You gave a small laugh and rubbed at the back of your neck.

"Yeah, I'm doing better." You glanced sidelong to the ghost wandering over to the front counter.

"Good. Now hopefully I can focus on training Brandon without as many interruptions. He keeps breaking away to chat with every customer that comes into the store. So I need you to handle the customers so he doesn't have an excuse."

"Got it. And if you need help with him, I can always smack some sense into him. The new order of mallets is in the back, right?"

Mr. Turner laughed and turned to go back to teaching Brandon. You smiled to yourself and meandered over to the counter. Your ghost pal sat on the countertop next to the computer.

"You never mentioned you get to hit people at your job, any openings?"

"Sorry, spot's filled. For now, anyway. But who knows, maybe we'll need a replacement soon."

"Save it for me. I would kill to get to hang around a pretty little breather like you all day and get paid for it. But doing that for free is nice too."

"You're a shameless flirt."

"How can a sexy beast like me not be with you around and able to see me?"

You shook your head and glanced at the computer. There was something you wanted to look up, you were sure of it. But what was it? You stepped closer and opened a new tab for the search. It sat blank for a moment as you retraced what the topic could have been.

"What are ya doing, babes?"

"I can't remember what I wanted to search for."

"One hundred great ways to skin a cat?"

You raised a brow and frowned at him. "I'm not hurting Rigel." A light flicked on in your head.

You typed in the cat's name and clicked on the page for the star. A picture of the Orion constellation to the side of the page showed off the stars. Most of them had fancy looking letters next to them, with a few having numbers attached. Rigel marked the lower right star, while the upper left was the only other star with a word.

"Beh-tell? Goose? Wait..." You jerked your head over to the ghost, who wore a Cheshire grin. "That's how you spell your name?"

"Yep. That's me. Behtellgoose."

You read the name once more. Betelgeuse. Such a strange spelling to sound like beetle-juice. Kind of cool though. You smiled and closed out of the tab when an unfamiliar voice called out to you.

"Good morning, Art. Great to see you doing better!"

"Heh, yeah. Feeling better." You forced a tight-lipped smile to prevent yourself from frowning. Brandon stayed still with his own fake smile plastered on his face. After a beat of him not saying anything, you asked, "Do you need something?"

"You forgot to go grab your apron. What if a customer came in? That would look very unprofessional. Here, I'll watch the counter and you can go grab your apron."

The corner of your mouth twitched, and you took in a deep breath. You stepped away and grabbed your stupid apron. As you threw it on, the bell chimed. You rushed back out, hoping to catch the customer before Brandon.

The counter stood unattended and you found Brandon down one aisle with a woman discussing products. You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Isn't that what your boss wanted you to stop him from doing?"

"Yes, Beetle, it is."

You hissed out a sigh and shook your head. As you walked over to them, you prepared yourself to speak in your chipper customer service voice. Brandon insisted he could take care of the customer, only for Mr. Turner to order him to get back to training. Brandon grimaced and stepped away to let you take over.

Your smile was easier to keep on your face after that. You helped the customer find what she needed and rang up her items. She left with a wave and you went back to the computer.

"What the hell is that guy's deal?" Betelgeuse asked, gesturing with a thumb to Brandon.

"I don't know. I don't know if I really care." You leaned back onto your heels and let your mind wander. Whenever you were alone, stuck at the counter, you always pulled up simple web games on the computer to pass the time. But with Betelgeuse there, you couldn't ignore him to play games.

"What are ya thinking about, sweets? How hot it would be to make out right now?"

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "No, you flirt. I'm thinking of what we can do to pass the time. All I'm coming up with are twenty questions and I spy."

"I'm fine with that," he said as he flashed you a sharp grin. "Okay, I'll start. I spy with my rotten eye, something... metal."

"Well, that narrows it down."

The two of you spent the rest of the morning going, taking turns playing those silly kids' games. Betelgeuse huffed and whined whenever a customer, or worse, Brandon, pulled you away to help them. Any time you called him out on his grumbling, he denied it as the color in his hair shifted.

He caught you staring at his hair once or twice, which exacerbated the shifting colors. Each time that happened, Betelgeuse quickly picked up whichever game you two had been playing. You left the topic alone for the moment, but stashed it away to ask about later.

Halfway into a difficult game of twenty questions, Mr. Turner came up to the counter. You ignored Betelgeuse's smug punchable face and greeted your boss, hoping your frustration didn't bleed into your tone.

"Cass, I'm stepping out for a bit to pick up something. I should be back for you to take your lunch break. Keep an eye on the store and Brandon for me, while I'm gone, okay?"

"Got it. Burn down the place and leave no evidence. Can do."

He shook his head with a laugh. Mr. Turner said, "you turd," before he waved goodbye and left the shop.

"Ooh baby, I love you talking about crimes like that! Tell me how you'd light up the place."

You turned back to the ghost. He floated with his stomach parallel to the ground as he held his scruffy chin in his hands and swung his legs pointed upward. You laughed at the dork and smiled.

"Well, the kerosene is over there, and the rolls of rags are an aisle over. There's a blow torch with some of the other tools."

"Artemis!" You whipped your attention to the stick in the mud, frowning at you. You didn't even get the chance to speak. "That kind of talk is highly unprofessional! Going over ways to burn down the store, shame on you."

"I was joking dude, it's not—"

"Well, I don't find that funny. And you shouldn't address your elders as 'dude', it is very disrespectful."

"Alright, I'm sorry."

"Good. Now I need your help."

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Brandon motioned for you to follow him, and once he turned back, you brought two fingers to your temple and jerked your head away.

In the middle of a tedious and painful walkthrough of creating an order of paint, the bell rang. Brandon broke away the second it chimed and went straight to helping the customer. That was irritating enough, but after the regular said they didn't need any help, Brandon insisted on assisting them.

You took in a deep breath and let the man dig his own grave. If he doesn't value your help, then he's not getting it. You marched back to the counter and found Betelgeuse picking his teeth.

He licked a striped tongue over his sharp teeth then said, "What a douchebag."

"Tell me about it."

The customer came up to the counter a minute later, followed by Brandon. You greeted the regular and switched the computer over to its register display. Your new coworker nudged you aside and insisted on being the one to ring up the customer.

"Artemis, you should have stayed at the paint desk. I'll meet you back there in a minute, after I help this gentleman."

You wanted nothing more than to slap that man. Who the hell does he think he is? Calling you unprofessional and pulling stunts like that? You grit your teeth and forced a smile before excusing yourself to head back to the paint desk.

Betelgeuse floated after you and lounged on top of the desk. You spared him a glance, but stuck to pacing the small paint pit, waiting for that douche-canoe to get back there. The customer didn't even have a lot of things to buy, so it shouldn't take Brandon that long.

"That freaking jerk," you said under your breath, "I can't believe Mr. Turner hired a guy like that."

"Want me to kill him?"

"Tempting, but no. I'm just going to talk to my boss when he gets back." You checked your phone for the time. A quarter after one, which means only fifteen more minutes until your lunch break. "God, I hope he's here soon."

You tapped your nails against the metal top of the tint machine, the speed of which accelerated the longer you waited. What the hell was taking him so long? Did another customer show up? This was getting infuriating.

"You sure you don't want me to kill the guy?"

"No, Beetle, I don't want you to do that."

"Art, who are you talking to?"

You turned around to the voice. Brandon stood at the threshold of the paint pit with his hand on his hips and raised a brow at you. Your face burned as you laughed, attempting to cover up your embarrassment.

"Oh, just this annoying little beetle. It was crawling under the tint dispenser."

"Do you regularly talk to disgusting bugs?" he asked. You opened your mouth to speak, only for Brandon to keep talking. "It doesn't matter. You shouldn't act so childish. How old are you? Late teens?"

"No, Brandon, I'm closer to my thirties than my teens."

"And you're talking to bugs, where any customer can come up and see that behavior. You ought to grow up and act your age, Artemis."

The bell chimed again, and you shuffled to the side to get an unobstructed view of the front. Mr. Turner stepped in with a smile and a wave. You waved back and checked the clock on the computer. One twenty-seven, perfect. You pulled your apron's strings and took it off in a swift motion.

"Where do you think you're going, Artemis?"

"Lunch."

Brandon frowned, and you folded up your apron with a smile. He probably wanted to stop you from leaving, but that shit would not fly with the boss back. Betelgeuse hopped down from his spot on the counter and followed. You tossed your apron behind the front counter and greeted Mr. Turner. After a quick rundown of what had happened, you left for your break, with a quick stop to your car to grab your food.

On the walk to the cemetery, Betelgeuse mocked the stupid things Brandon said. He was dead on with his impression, too.

"Artemis, do you think I give a shit? I'm a giant douche with a stick up my ass! There's no fun allowed in the store."

You did your best to hold back your laughter, but that only caused you to snort. A laugh roared out next to you in Betelgeuse's voice. You covered your mouth with your free hand, but that couldn't stop your shoulders from bouncing. As the two of you crossed into the graveyard, you glanced sidelong at the ghost, who shot you a grin.

In the cemetery, devoid of any other visitors, you veered towards your usual spot, off in the corner and near the front gate. You sat on the stone bench, setting your lunch beside you. Betelgeuse, however, sat on a gravestone, with his feet propped up on the one next to it.

You opened up your small bag of chips and started snacking on them. Betelgeuse looked over from picking at his nails and raised a brow at you.

"That's all you're going to eat, babes?"

"I have a granola bar too."

You grabbed the other half of your lunch and showed him. He tilted his head with a frown, but said nothing. It grew quiet, save for your munching on the chips. Your mind wandered, and you zoned out, staring unfocused in a random direction. Betelgeuse moved, catching your eye, and you studied him.

He gnawed at his black nails with jagged yellow teeth. Stubble covered his round chin, matching the same green mixed in his hair. Has his stubble changed color like his hair has? And why did his hair change color to begin with?

You hummed to yourself after finishing the last of your chips.

"What's up, sweets?"

"I... was hoping to ask you something."

Betelgeuse tilted his head to the other side and raised a brow and pursed his lips. You gave a half smile and laughed. He looked like a curious puppy. How could this ghost-demon look so cute?

"What is it?"

"I've noticed that your hair isn't always green." 

As soon as the sentence left your mouth, the color of his hair shifted to a deep purple. You shrank back as your stomach twisted into knots. Even without knowing what the colors meant, the frown on his face and sudden dodging of eye contact weren't good signs. On no. You messed up, didn't you? Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?

"I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything. Forget I ever mentioned it."

You dug your nails into your palms and turned your gaze to your knees. Betelgeuse produced a mix of a growl and a groan, and you peered up at him through your hair. His lips pulled into an almost smile as he kept sharp eyes pointed at his hands, where he raked his nails through the hair of one.

"I might as well tell you, you'd figure it out eventually. My hair changes color with my mood."

You dared to lift your head more. Your lips parted as your brain processed the new information.

"Like a chameleon?"

"Like what?"

He tilted his head and raised a brow as his nose wrinkled. You forced out a small laugh and smile as you wrung your wrists. "A chameleon, the little lizards that change color. It's to communicate their mood. Darker colors like black are when it's stressed, neutral tones are when it's calm, and vibrant greens, or reds can be excitement or aggression."

Betelgeuse lurched forward with a growl and ran his hands through his hair, shielding the deepening purple from view. Your stomach twisted into knots. This wasn't getting better. You parted your lips only to press them shut a second later. Why did you have to screw up and bring up his hair in the first place?

Your nails dug deeper into your palms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"If you're going to strip a guy naked like that, babes, you could at least buy me dinner first."

Your face wrinkled as you tilted your head at him. Betelgeuse still held himself curled and closed off, but he wore a weak crooked smile. Your lips twitched, and you huffed out a dry laugh.

"Alright, we can go through the drive thru to get a few things off the dollar menu."

"Ooh! I wanna try one of those green sludgy shake things from that Old MacDonald place."

"Sorry to break this to you, but they only sell those in March."

"What? That's lame!"

"Everything is pumpkin spice right now."

He pouted and crossed his arms with a huff. Despite the childish act, the purple in his hair faded back to a muted green. You chuckled to yourself as relief washed over you. With a soft smile, you grabbed the other half of your lunch and hummed before you opened it.

"Hey Beetle."

"Hmm?"

"I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to, but I wanted to say I think your chameleon hair is pretty cool. Like, is it magic? Or is it a demon thing? Or—sorry. I'm sorry. I'll shut up about it now. Sorry."

Your eyes darted to focus on your granola bar. You fumbled with tearing open the packaging for a second, only for the wrapper to give. The force sent your food tumbling to the ground. You stared at the broken bar and heaved out a sigh. Just wonderful.

Your pocket buzzed, veering your attention to it. You pulled out your phone and checked the caller id. Unknown number. Chills cascaded down as you stared at the phone.

"Something wrong, babes?"

"Nope. Everything's fine. Just some spam call."

You shoved it back into your pocket and let it ring. If the caller wanted anything, they can leave a voicemail. Besides, you needed to get back to work.

You picked up your trash and nodded your head to the gate. Betelgeuse hopped up and floated alongside you. After a few steps out of the cemetery, your phone rang again. Every fiber in you tensed up, but you left your phone in your pocket. The third time your phone rang, Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Who the hell keeps calling you?"

You shrugged and laughed despite your dry throat. "Who knows? I have to get back to work though."

With a hurried pace, you made it back to the store in a few minutes. The bell swung, chiming away as you beeline for your apron behind the counter. Brandon stood at the register with a phone up to his ear.

"There you are, Art! I've been calling you and you never once answered!" Brandon frowned at you and slipped his phone into his pants pocket. "You're obligated to pick up if I or Mr. Turner ever need to call you."

"O-oh, that was you calling." A small breath escapes passed your lips and you relax, only to register what he said. "Wait, how did you even get my number? I've only ever given this number to Sam and Mr. Turner."

"Why does it matter how I got your number? The issue is; if work calls you, especially if you have a shift that day, you need to answer."

"Fine, okay. I'll save your number so I don't panic again when I'm called three times in a row."

"Oh please, three phone calls make you panic? Artemis, you're an adult. You should know better than to be worried about something as simple as a phone call."

You grit your teeth and smiled. This conversation wasn't going anywhere you wanted, and you didn't plan on sticking around. You threw on your apron and marched to a far corner of the store to get away from everyone. Well, save for the ghost haunting you.

"Wow, babes, that guy is a major piece of work."

"Piece of shit is more like it."

You grabbed at products on the shelf and pulled them forward, turning the labels when needed. If you looked busy, maybe Brandon would mind his own fucking business. You clenched your jaw and growled as you brought more things forward.

"I shouldn't be worried about phone calls? What the fuck does he know? He's never had to put up with the shit I have!"

"And what shit would that be, babes?"

You glanced up to the ghost laying on his stomach across the top of the aisle shelving. Betelgeuse tilted his head. Soft and earnest curiosity graced his features. The corner of your mouth twitched before you closed your eyes and let out a hiss.

"I don't want to get into it," you said, keeping your voice quiet, "but I've had someone call me over and over before. It wasn't fun."

You pulled the rest of the items forward within arm's reach before sidestepping to get more. Betelgeuse floated after you as you inched down the aisle. He picked the games back up, and you welcomed the distraction.

There were one or two rounds of I spy, several goes at twenty questions—which you're positive Betelgeuse cheated and switched his topic multiple times. Towards the end of your shift, well after Brandon left for the day, you two asked a few "would you rather" questions. While he asked a few risque questions at the start—bite or be bitten, top or bottom—his questions took a tamer turn, similar to the ones you asked.

"Okay babe, would you rather find a rat in the kitchen or a roach in your bed?"

"I mean... I guess I'd prefer seeing another rat in the kitchen over finding more roaches?"

"M-more?"

"Donna hires her incompetent nephew to do the pest control for the apartments." You swept the line of dirt into the pan and tossed it into the trash. "Actually, speaking of, I should double check the traps and make sure something isn't rotting somewhere in the apartment."

Betelgeuse watched you finish the last of the closing routine. You clicked the pan back around the neck of the broom and stuffed it into a corner behind the counter. The only thing left was Mr. Turner to finish locking up the cash and heading out. You leaned against the counter and rolled your head back to look at the ceiling.

A quiet stillness overtook the store. It lasted a few seconds before Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Would you rather have a nicer place but the same landlady, or the same apartment with a nicer landlady—"

"Alright Cass, you ready to leave?"

You turned your attention from the unseen ghost to your boss. He smiled and gestured to the door. You returned a half smile before exiting. Mr. Turner locked up, and you waved goodbye. A minute later you sank into the car seat and rested your hands on the wheel.

"Well babes, this certainly seems familiar."

You glanced his way and rolled your eyes before getting the car started.

"Yep, it's been an entire day since a demon followed my home, like a lost puppy."

"I'm way cuter than any puppy. Plus, you can keep me in your apartment all you want and your shitty landlady can't do anything about it!"

"Nicer landlady, by the way," you said as the car sputtered to life.

"What?"

"I'd rather have a nicer landlady than a nicer place. Donna would just let a nicer place fall to ruin."

You pulled out of the parking lot and drove home. At the first red light, you tapped your finger on the wheel and hummed.

"Hey Beetle, would you rather stay in a comfortable and familiar place with people that don't believe half of what you say, or cut all contact with them and be alone if it meant freedom?"

Betelgeuse tilted his head from one side to the other, closing his eyes as he mulled over your question. As he thought, the light changed, and you continued on your way home. A sharp grin stretched across his face a moment later.

"Easy. I'd take my freedom."

Your lips twitched up. "Yeah... me too."

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day Three: A Storm of Stars

 Summary: Soul tattoos don’t fill in until the other person knows without a doubt that their partner is the one, when everything they are become so ingrained in each other’s lives that their souls become entwined. For Virgil and Logan, this doesn’t happen until well after they’ve been married. When the moments do arrive however, they both know they could never be happier.

Warnings: none, If there are any please let me know!

Ships: Analogical (Virgil x Logan)

Prompt: Tattoo that becomes colorful once you meet soulmate

WC: 2645

AO3

Logan’s eyes snapped open as a loud crack of thunder shook the house, rain pelting against the roof and making the tiles creak. His popping joints added to the symphony as he stretched his way into a sitting position. Reaching over to the bedside drawer he fumbled a bit before finding the small remote and clicking on the web of fairy lights strung in the far corner, immediately bathing the room in a pleasant blue glow. He flipped his pillow over to the cool side and took a second to fluff the other pillow a bit, moving it over to be closer to his and smoothing the bedsheets. 

The motions were automatic after so many years of practice, going back to he and Virgil’s first sleepover when they were still guaranteed a juicebox and cookies after school. It had stormed then too, Logan waking up to find his bed crowded with a shaking Virgil and his trusty stuffed tiger, who though was quite courageous had realized she was no match for a storm and had convinced her charge to seek shelter with Logan instead. Smiling softly at the memory Logan settled down to wait. He knew as his husband had grown older he wasn’t afraid of storms anymore so much as his anxiety ran with endless possibilities of what they could do to them or the house- which Logan was often inclined to agree with but played his role of devil’s advocate for the sake of Virgil’s well-being.

Right as he was beginning to wonder if he should leave to go and collect Virgil, the floorboards in front of his door squeaked in protest. A moment later a figure bulky with sweatpants and a hoodie slouched into the room, quickly shutting the door behind him and practically diving into the bed and under the blankets. The bed springs creaked along with the roof tiles as they both fidgeted and fussed trying to get comfortable, Logan biting back a small laugh as Virgil nosed his way underneath his chin. His soft hair tickled Logan’s lips as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head and wrapped his arms around him. Finally they were still, Virgil’s breathing slowly matching his own as he made sure to take deep calming breaths.

The rain was already quieting, the storm moving on and leaving the two night owls to their bubble of peaceful warmth. Logan readjusted slightly as Virgil snuggled in further, hoodie sleeves riding up as he snaked his arms around his waist in an attempt to pull them closer. Logan did laugh at this, planting another kiss firmly on the other’s forehead.

“I think if you squeezed any tighter we’d fuse, stormcloud. How are we supposed to compose an email when our absence excuse would be cuddling too hard?”

“No such thing,’” Virgil mumbled. “I’ll cuddle you as hard as I want and they’re just gonna haftadealwibit.”

The last half of the sentence trailed off into near indecipherable gibberish but Logan understood well enough. “You are exceptionally adorable when you’re tired. As much as I hate that storms cause you anxiety, I'm glad that nothing else has changed.”

He grinned as the side of his neck where Virgil’s face was pressed against warmed and quietly congratulated himself through the disappointment that he couldn’t currently see Virgil’s crimson face. ‘Still got it’ he thought to himself as he wiggled a bit to try and find a comfortable spot where Virgil’s rather bony arms weren’t poking into his ribs, failing miserably until he managed a sigh. “I’m sorry stormcloud, I’m getting a bit of a cramp. Why don’t you lay on top of me instead; that’s comfortable for you as well isn’t it?”

Humming in confirmation, Virgil leaned back and let Logan flip onto his back. A moment later he let out a small groan of surprise as Virgil flopped solidly onto him, burrowing into his chest and holding Logan tight by his sides. Smiling, he brought the blankets up over them both and carefully tucked them in, bringing his arms out and resting them on Virgil’s shoulders to make sure it didn’t slide off. 

“Thank you for always doing this.” Logan scrunched his brow at the frustrated tone in Virgil’s voice. “And don’t you dare say ‘why wouldn’t I’ because you always ask and I always say it’s because I’m too old to be afraid of storms and then you logic your way around me because I’m too tired to argue. This is just something I always thought I’d grow out of.”

“Sometimes we grow out of fears, sometimes not. The ones that linger aren’t something you can help or should blame yourself for.” Getting no response other than a frustrated huff, Logan continued, beginning to hum and rub soothing circles on his back. “Whether the fear is rational or not- and whether or not the threat is real- I will always be here to protect and support you however you need. Seeing as I’m not exactly in the best shape for fighting crime or fending off rabid dogs, comforting you through a storm is something that I love that I’m able to do. And I will continue to love doing it because I love you and would rather you be here with me seeking comfort than by yourself too stubborn to ask for help.”

“Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“You’re making it really hard to be edgy and self-deprecating right now.”

“Heaven forbid.”

Virgil snorted, knocking the top of his head gently into Logan’s chin until Logan sighed in mock exasperation, craning his neck to kiss him softly on the forehead so he’d settle back down. As he laid his head back down onto his chest a warm, tingling sensation spread from underneath Virgil’s cheek and covered his collar bone and part of his shoulder. Gasping he nudged the other up, poking more insistantly when the stubborn emo refused to disentangle himself. Ignoring Virgil’s confused look as he made to pull off his shirt he practically whipped it across the room and placed a hand to his soul mark, eyes shining as he took in the sight. 

His mark had always looked so odd to him, big blobs of shapes over his right shoulder and collar bone with jagged black scars streaking from them and down his chest. He could never even begin to picture what it could be, though a friend suggested once that it might be a warped forest of some sort, doubtful as his tone had been. Instead, his warm fingers traced over jagged streaks of lightning, such a bright purple they nearly glowed in the dark. The blobs above them had filled in with every shade of gray he had ever seen, broken occasionally by shadows of purple and blue where the lightning was. It was unexpectedly beautiful, his vision blurring with tears as he realized what this meant.

“I always knew.” He looked up as Virgil spoke in a hushed whisper. “I always- but you just felt so safe and you never...you always make me feel better about it and so safe and I guess-”

Logan opened his arms and Virgil gratefully dove back into them, catching his cheek with a kiss on the way down. They resettled quickly, the rain nothing more than a gentle patter against the roof letting them rest easy. Cracking an eye open, Logan strained to look down as Virgil laughed and held him tighter.

“Of all the things that keep me up at night, I’m so glad I was right about this.”

Logan smiled and hugged him closer in turn. “I agree.”

----- -----

Virgil sat up slowly, blanket falling from his shoulders and pooling around his waist as he struggled to cross his legs in the tangle. After a minute of failing miserably he huffed and flopped back, kicking both legs up as far as they would go while catching the blanket on the bottom of his feet and then kicking forward violently to dislodge them. Unfortunately the trick failed, landing more fabric between his legs and scrunching his pants uncomfortably in the process. Scissoring his legs just twisted everything around more and by the time he was halfway through attempting bicycles the situation was hopeless enough he considered just going back to sleep and dealing with it when he woke up. He had closed his eyes to do just that when he heard a muffled snort from the doorway, picking his head up to peer at Logan through squinted eyelids.

“Would you like some assistance?” Logan asked while making a half-hearted attempt to school his features.

Huffing, Virgil flopped his head back onto the pillows. “Clearly I have everything under control.”

“Falsehood. Your wiggling was very impressive but the blankets quite obviously won in the end. Was falling back to sleep after a ten hour nap and a failed battle the plan from the start?”

“No one likes a smartass Lo.”

“And yet your love for me persists.” Smiling lightly, Logan made his way to the side of the bed and climbed on, swinging his legs up and over Virgil’s stomach and plopped down gently with his hands splayed over his chest. Grunting out pseudo complaints Virgil reached up and took both of the hands in his own, giving each a kiss in turn before settling them back just below his collarbones. The sight of Logan blushing- bright enough to be visible even in the dim room- was one he would never grow tired of.

“Illogical as it may be.” He agreed. “Is that why you love your darling husband? I’m your most difficult logic puzzle that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “No, that’s absurd. I love my husband because a pain in the ass though he may be- he’s a constant I find myself unable to live without.”

Feeling his own face heating up Virgil longed for his hoodie to hide in, especially once Logan’s expression turned smug from rendering him speechless. “Logan, it’s much too early for you to be this smooth.”

“Virgil, my love, it’s seven in the evening.”

Virgil blinked. “Wow. you weren’t kidding when you said ten hour nap.”

“I never kid. It’s important to be one hundo percent, one hundo percent of the time.”

“Who gave you that one?”

“Patton.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t trust the dad-friend for flashcards, starlight.’

Flushing slightly, Logan disentangled their fingers and rolled off the bed. “Duly noted. Now please get up, we have plans.”

“We do- ah!” Virgil found himself face down in his pillow, having flipped around with Logan’s rather aggressive flourish of snapping the blankets out from around his legs. Remembering that they had, in fact, had plans for the night, Virgil rolled out of bed as quickly as he could with apologies already hot on his tongue. “Logan I’m so sorry I thought that was tomorrow and I had stayed up late for stupid reasons and I hope we aren’t running late do I have time to change-”

“Virgil, breathe.” Logan cupped a hand to his cheek and gently ran a thumb under his eye. “I assure you we have plenty of time and I’m very glad you got the sleep you did. I would have liked you up earlier only to see your lovely face and to make sure your sleep schedule wasn’t ruined. But if you slept that long you must have needed it, and I certainly am not going to fault you for that.”

Closing his eyes, Virgil took a breath and held it for a second before breathing out slowly. Logan’s hand left his cheek and he caught himself leaning forward to chase the warmth, his resulting blush filling that void for the time being. 

“Do what you need and then come in the kitchen; I made fried noodles.”

More awake now than ever Virgil hurried to the bathroom. Logan’s cooking was the best he had ever had and he’d be damned if he was late for noodles.

-----

A cool breeze rustled through the thick grass and flipped over the corner of the blanket Logan and Virgil had set up an hour before. Sputtering, Virgil flipped it back from his face, spitting bits of dandelion fluff out of his mouth in the process while pointedly ignoring Logan’s snicker. He pushed his hoodie closer to the corner to prevent further mishap and snuggled closer to his husband for warmth, head resting comfortably on one arm with his other wrapped around Logan’s shoulders. 

Logan lay on his side with his head on his shoulder, the bottom of his cheek pressed into the still black soulmark that traced a shapeless blob from the top of his elbow to the nape of his neck. Soulmarks filled in based on the other soulmates feelings- when they truly felt like they had found the one. Of course that was a romantic conspiracy for the most part and to Virgil it seemed to go against the entire idea of fate. If you could choose your own, then what was the point of the marks? 

Choosing not to think about it for the time being, he continued staring up at the sky. The night was clear and this far out not much light pollution tainted their view of everything the night had to offer. Stars glittered for miles with barely there colorful space dust in between if you squinted. Logan had told him what it actually was once- something about it being high temperature nebula gas absorbing starlight- Logan had explained it much better in the past.

Logan always explained everything better.

“You’re quiet tonight.” Logan remarked.

“I’m sorry- just thinking.” 

“Mm, don’t be sorry.”

They laid in silence for a few more minutes before Virgil decided to speak up. “They always make me feel really small- stars I mean- and I know I am small compared to everything but all that just leads to...existential dread I guess. Seeing everything laid out, it’s beautiful, but it’s also a bit daunting.”

“Virgil, if you’re uncomfortable-”

“Lemme finish first before you do the sweet thing you do where you overanalyze everything for the sake of everyone else’s comfort.” Seeing Logan smile and roll his eyes he continued. “I always feel small looking at them, but it never matters because you make me feel big. Like I could take on the entire world even when the anxiety’s being a bitch.”

He felt Logan smile against his arm...and then it started to tingle. Tiny pinpricks raced up and down his arms from his shoulder to his neck and he quickly disentangled himself and started blindly slapping at his mark to get whatever bugs off that had decided to ruin the moment. Noticing Logan had his mouth covered with his eyes wide in shock staring at his arm he quickly looked down and gasped with his own.

His unsightly black blob of a soulmark, which he had long ago stopped trying to guess at the shape of, was now a glittering galaxy. Striking blue and dark purple swirled in intricate patterns behind stars that shined so brightly on his skin he would swear they had been plucked from the night sky and flicked onto him. The tingling finally stopped, the whole field seeming to hold its breath along with the both of them before Logan finally broke the silence with a hoarse whisper.

“In an entire universe I found you.” Snapping his head up, Virgil saw tears gathering in his husband’s eyes. “I was sure I already knew but- I’m so happy I found you.”

Laughing wetly Virgil dove forward, knocking them both over and half in the grass but neither could bring themselves to care. Under the stars, with Virgil himself wrapped in a galaxy, he had never been so happy to have an impossibly small space in Logan’s arms to call his own.

If you like this, please consider reblogging. Sharing a creators work helps more people see it.

[novelconcepts]

fic: no fear (don’t you turn like orpheus, just stay here)

Dani hasn’t stopped shaking since it happened. At first, Jamie thought it was simply a matter of cold night air and colder lake water, soaking into Dani’s sweater and shoes and skin. A matter of getting her inside the house, of getting her out of those wet clothes, wrapping her in a thick blanket and setting her up in front of the fire until the warmth eased back into her bones. Everything feels better, Jamie is sure, if you can only get warm.

Except the kids are shaking, too, and Henry looks like he’s just been hit by a car, and Owen keeps repeating, “Hannah? Where’s Hannah?” with increasing alarm. It’s all too much to take in at once, so Jamie--who knows it’d all be better if they could just get inside--settles for sitting in the dark with the rest of them. She’s in the grass, Dani propped against her chest, her arms locked tight around Dani’s shivering body; she’d tried to keep them both upright, but Owen had moved away, calling Hannah’s name into the creeping shadows, and Jamie simply hadn’t been strong enough. Down they sank, down onto the damp lawn, and Dani hasn’t looked at her. Dani has just been...

Staring. 

Staring fixedly at nothing at all.

“You're okay,” Jamie murmurs against her hair, trying to scrounge all the patience and sanity the night has to offer. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Except she isn’t. She so plainly isn’t, and it’s scaring Jamie badly to feel the way her bones rattle--suddenly so thin and so fragile under that sweater--against Jamie’s body. She’s got one arm tight around Dani’s stomach, the other around her shoulders, holding her with desperation made flesh. Come back to me, she chants silently, kissing the side of Dani’s head, pressing her nose against Dani’s hair and inhaling the stomach-churning scent of stale lake water. Come back, please. 

If I hadn’t gone, she thinks, unable to stop herself. If I had stayed like she asked. If I’d been there--

But she wasn’t. She wasn’t, and maybe in another universe that would play out differently, but all she’s got in this one is the next step. All she has is Dani’s breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps, her hand groping along Jamie’s arm and grasping so tightly, there will be perfect impressions from her fingertips in the morning. 

“You’re okay,” Jamie breathes, trying to keep one eye on the chaos around them. Henry is hugging the kids, but his eyes are on Owen, and there’s something wrong with his expression. Something so much more human than she’s ever seen him look. And Owen, for his part, is ten feet away, hands cupped around his mouth, yelling now. Yelling in a pitchy, wild way she’d never have expected of him before tonight. Her heart slams itself against her ribs on every syllable--Hann-ah! Hann-ah!--until she thinks she’ll go crazy right here, right here in the grass. 

“You’re okay,” she repeats, a mantra for them all. 

Henry, eventually, is the one to get them all moving. Henry, leaving Flora clutching Miles like she thought she’d never see him again, her face dirty and tracked with tears. Henry, walking to take Owen by the shoulders. Whatever he mutters, they’re too far off for Jamie to hear, but she sees Owen recoil. Sees him, unbelievably, raise a hand like he might actually strike Henry--and then presses it to his mouth. 

“I don’t,” he says, muffled. “I don’t understand.”

“Tomorrow,” Henry says, gently, his voice pitched for them all to hear. “Tomorrow. Tonight, we need to get them inside.”

“Inside,” Dani agrees, the first thing she’s said apart from it’s us in almost half an hour. “Inside. Inside.”

Jamie hugs her tighter, feels the way her free hand gropes along the leg of her trousers and grips just above the knee for purchase. Is this really the same woman who watched her with hopeful, nervous energy earlier this evening? The same woman who splayed a hand across her ribs like she wanted nothing more than to push Jamie against the wall, hold her there with lips and tongue and soft giggle, until there was nothing left in the universe but the pair of them? That Dani had felt like rebirth burning hot in her hands, like some mythical readiness rising from the ashes of a past she’d finally been able to bury. This woman feels so small in comparison. So brittle. 

Should’ve stayed, Jamie thinks again, as she pulls Dani upright. Should never leave her again. 

Henry takes the kids, never once looking at Dani, and Jamie is grateful. If he’d stepped back and made this yet another one of Dani’s problems, she thinks she couldn’t be held accountable for her actions. Henry Wingrave has been distant for too long; it’s high time he pulls some weight around this house, too. 

Owen strikes off on his own into the shadows, hands in the pockets of his coat, no longer shouting. His face is all Jamie needs to see, to know company is most unwelcome. Tomorrow, she decides, she will catch him. Tomorrow, they will handle whatever he’s carrying together.

Tonight, Dani needs her. 

She keeps an arm anchored around Dani the whole way into the house, up the stairs, shoes sliding over muddy prints Jamie can’t quite bring herself to look at too closely. Dani is staring straight ahead, swallowing hard, eyes barely blinking. Ask, something in Jamie whispers. Never, something just as fierce responds. There are questions you can ask, and questions that will explode on contact, and it’s up to Dani to let her know which this is. When she’s ready. When she’s back.

“Here,” she says into Dani’s ear as they reach her door. “Here, you--I’d like to stay, if you’ll have--”

Dani grips her sleeve so tightly, Jamie imagines the threads tearing loose under her fingernails. Her hunted expression never wavers, her eyes finding Jamie’s in the warm hall light, and Jamie sucks in a breath through her teeth. She knows these eyes so well already, knows how they widen with delight when she enters a room, knows how they dilate with open, hungry want when she moves close. Dani’s eyes, blue as the saddest song in the world, the kind you never want to stop humming under your breath. 

One of these eyes staring at her now is Dani’s.

One is a deep, startling brown.

“What--Dani, what--” Happened. 

Dani shakes her head. “Not--can’t--not yet. Please. Just...”

Jamie takes her face gently between her hands, stretches up to press a long kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be here,” she says, the words barely a whisper. “As long as you want, all right?”

Dani doesn’t say all night, or the week, or forever. Dani just falls forward, head pushing against Jamie’s, hands trembling on her shoulders like if she lets go, she’s sure Jamie will vanish on the spot. 

“C’mon.” Jamie nudges the door open with her foot, eases them both into this space she remembers so keenly from barely twenty-four hours ago. What a different lifetime that was: the two of them stumbling into the house, unable to stop touching, unwilling to go four steps without one of them pressing the other into the nearest surface and kissing with such idiot abandon, it’s a wonder no one came running to check on the racket they’d been making. Pure luck, she’d thought then, with Dani nibbling her earlobe and trying to work the doorknob at the same time. Sensible behavior, she thought in the morning, recalling the way Hannah and Owen had looked at them as they left the kitchen. 

Now, none of that nervous scalding electricity lighting the room. Now, there is only the solidness of the shadows, of gray seeping into all the corners of Dani’s space. Jamie guides her to the trunk at the foot of the bed, eases her down, lets go just long enough to switch on the lamp. 

Relief, for a moment, as Dani leans her head back and exhales a long breath heavenward. Relief, as her face is bathed in the same warm glow from the night before, when she’d let her hand hover over the switch with palpable nerves. 

I’ve never--I mean--should it be dark?

I’d like to see you, Jamie had told her then, with such gentle eagerness she’d thought Dani would crack apart in response. She’d kissed her, kissed her, laughed into her mouth.

Hard to imagine this Dani laughing. 

“Jesus, Dani,” Jamie breathes. Her neck, she can see for the first time, is a lattice of bruises. Her mouth is ringed and swollen, her skin chapped red in places, a dark, horrible purple in others. Jamie kneels before her, hands on her thighs, holding steady as Dani just sits there and stares. 

“Bad night,” Dani whispers at last. The left corner of her mouth crooks up, just a little. She leans forward, arms wrapped around herself, rocking slightly. “Bad night.”

“No shit,” Jamie says. Can’t help it. She’s trying her absolute best right now, her absolute best to be the strongest person in the room, but Dani looks like she got into a fight tonight Jamie can’t even fathom. It’s not even the bruises; it’s the miles of misery in her suddenly-mismatched eyes, the far-flung expression that says she’s left, she’s gone, and she maybe isn’t ever coming--

“Back to me,” Jamie realizes she’s saying, pleading. “Dani. Come back.”

Dani lifts her gaze, refocuses with obvious effort on Jamie’s face. “Aren’t I here?” she asks, so forlornly it nearly breaks Jamie’s heart. “Aren’t I? Feel like...feel like maybe...”

She slides a hand up Jamie’s chest, up the side of her neck, touching gentle fingers to Jamie’s cheek. The shudders running through her body are still coming, but lighter now, less volatile. Jamie shuts her eyes for a moment. 

“We should get you out of these clothes,” she says. It’s a good thing to say. A sturdy, simple, solution-oriented thing to say. Dani smiles like shattered crystal. 

“What was it? Blimey.”

She’s not really groping for the accent this time, not really trying to make Jamie smile, and it hurts. It hurts to see her like this. Jamie shakes her head. 

“You’re soaking wet, and the last thing you need’s a summer cold on top of all this--” Steer left. Angle away to something safer. “C’mon, let’s get you into a bath.”

Dani lets her pull the sweater over her head, lets her ease her out of the rest of her clothes in gentle, methodical motions. There’s no seduction to it tonight, just the infinite care of Jamie knowing her hands are not built for such fragile things. Just Jamie knowing she’s never handled something so precious in all her life, and she cannot bear to get this wrong. 

With every article that comes away, she finds more splotches of terrible color embroidered into Dani’s skin. The backs of her knees are especially bad, blooming almost black. The bruises run down her calves, her ankles, wrap grotesque fingers around the small of her back and the easy slope of her hip. Jamie, looking at her in the small bathroom, fingers each spot like it’s made of finest-spun glass, watching Dani’s face for any sign of flinching. 

Nothing. Dani just looks steadily back at her, even as Jamie--out of ideas, heart twisting itself bloody in her chest--presses a kiss to the back of one leg. She sits on the closed seat of the toilet, a towel around her body as Jamie fills the tub. Doesn’t say anything. Just sits, gazing off into nothing again. 

“Want me to--,” Jamie begins, and Dani’s already nodding, even as she sinks into the water. It isn’t a big tub, not for this kind of house, but it’s big enough. Jamie slides in behind her, lets her lean back, allows the too-hot water drain away the last of the chill from her own skin. She hadn’t even realized she was cold. 

Not how I imagined this going, she thinks, chin resting lightly on Dani’s shoulder. The water sloshing gently around them on every breath is strangely focus-inducing. She feels for the first time all night like she understands--something, anything at all. Not what happened to Dani, certainly, not her bruises or her horribly haunted gaze, but the sensation of Dani’s body against hers. The sensation of skin on skin, of steam drawing sweat from the back of her neck, of Dani’s fingers clenched around her own. 

She traces sigils into the smooth plane of Dani’s stomach, trying to make her hand into something large enough, strong enough, to hold Dani present. Her palm can’t cover enough ground, her fingers unable to extend across the whole of Dani, all the little splintered bits that had been whole earlier in the evening. It doesn’t feel like nearly enough, but Dani’s breath is coming easier now, no longer galloping out of her like she’s still running. Her breath comes slow, her head tipped back against Jamie’s shoulder, and Jamie realizes she’s actually starting to fall asleep right here in the bath. 

Fine enough, she thinks. Let her sleep. Get the feeling it won’t be so easy a thing, for a while. 

When the water begins to lose the last of its heat, Dani turns and looks up at her with exhausted eyes. “Can we go to bed now?” Like a little kid, Jamie thinks. For the first time, she sees a glimpse of how Dani might have been once upon a lack of responsibility. Weary and sad, a little fearful, but trusting Jamie. Trusting that Jamie will scare off any monsters from the door. 

I can carry this, she thinks firmly. I can carry us both until you’ve got your legs back. You’ve done things I couldn’t dream tonight, Poppins; I can do this much. 

She tries to offer Dani pajamas, but Dani just sleepwalks past her and slides between the sheets. For a moment, Jamie hovers, helpless, beside the side she’s already started to think of as her own. Dani reaches out without looking, pats the pillow with a clumsy hand. 

“Please. Please stay.”

She leaves the this time unsaid, but it jerks at Jamie’s heart all the same. It pains her a bit, how easily Dani winds against her body, how little self-consciousness is present when she moves a leg over Jamie’s hips and clutches at her shoulders. They should have so much more time on the doorstep of this brand new thing, she thinks. So much more time spent nervously undressing, laughing awkwardly as they get to know one another--every freckle, every stretch mark, every scar. 

And yet...here’s Dani Clayton, behaving as though they’ve been like this for a lifetime. Dani, too tired to second-guess, with her face pressed into Jamie’s skin. This is such a married thing to do, Jamie thinks without fully understanding the gravity of the thought. Such a married act, to climb into bed and hold one another without question, without fear, without any sort of boundaries between them. 

One night, she thinks wonderingly. I’ve had one night knowing this woman. One night learning the map of her, and now it’s like...like she’s always been here. 

There’s a sort of loss to this feeling, but something far more grand rises to take its place. A certainty Jamie can’t bring herself to look in the face. She’s never felt its like, not with any woman, not with any human being in her entire life. 

Dani breathes in, out, in, sweeping arcs across her collarbones, and Jamie gazes at the ceiling. She’s never felt less like sleeping, has never felt more ready to stand sentry for another life. Dani’s falling asleep like a stone, weighing heavier by the moment, and Jamie suddenly can’t imagine falling asleep alone ever again. Can’t imagine not being by her side as the bruises fade and the distance leaves her eyes, as the smile returns to her lips and her hands begin again to search for Jamie. 

She will, Jamie thinks. A woman like Dani Clayton isn’t broken by even the worst kind of night. She’ll be here in the morning, a little more than tonight, and a little more with every day that follows. Jamie has to believe that. Can’t stomach anything less.

She doesn’t know what happened out in the lake. Doesn’t know what Dani did, what Dani gave up--and Dani did give something up, she can see it all over her face. Dani will tell her, she’s sure, when she’s ready. Dani will sit and take her hand and maybe she’ll shiver all over, maybe she’ll cry, but she will walk Jamie down this path. Someday. Jamie can be patient until that day comes. 

Dani moans in her sleep, a nightmare on her lips, and Jamie kisses the top of her head until the tension slides from her limbs once more. 

I’ll be right here, she promises silently. Long as you’ll have me. Long as you want me. And if there are monsters under the bed, if something followed you out of that lake tonight, well...

She can’t find the words to say as much, not to Dani’s face. In the morning, when some of the fear has been scrubbed away and Dani’s maybe a little more embarrassed, or--worse--a little more ashamed, Jamie won’t be able to say it this way. She’ll only be able to pull Dani close, to kiss her eyelids and her cheeks and her lips with every ounce of tenderness she can muster. She’ll only be able to say something foolish and wry, voice sleep-roughened, pretending she didn’t stay up all night listening to Dani’s strong heart beat on. 

And maybe they’ll kiss again, slow and deep, and maybe Dani will move against her with the desperate need to feel something other than terror, and maybe they won’t leave this bed again for a day. Or maybe it’ll go the other way; maybe she’ll wake again to find Dani already gone, off to take charge of the day the only way Dani knows how, with Jamie lingering after her as she waits for the adrenaline to fade. Either way, Jamie’s good. Either way, she can wait. 

For now, she holds Dani close and tries not to let the melody of it’s us, it’s us, it’s us tap out its unnerving rhythm inside her head as she lays in this house that feels so...quiet all of a sudden. So quiet, so still. 

Jamie lays all night, keeping vigil, and Dani Clayton--bruised and worn and carrying something Jamie will strive her very hardest to understand just as soon as Dani’s ready to share--sleeps on.

It has no name

No guarantee

It’s just the promise of a day

I know that some may never see

But that’s enough

If the bottom drops out, I hope my love

Was someone else’s solid ground

-”Orpheus”, Sara Bareilles

[amphxtrite]

3 • Hurricane

series summary: alone almost everyday from the moment you were born, thrown to the side by everyone in society because of who your parents were and who you were said to be, a death eater. Your parents were to of the most powerful dark wizards ever known and because of that you were shunned everywhere you went. When the hufflepuff golden boy sees you for the first time and falls, but is he willing to be judged, feared, and hated, and how far will he go,  To Be At Her Side.

chapter summary: everything seemed to be going well, for a short amount of time everything felt right. cedric had grown closer to you and became a friend. But all good things come to an end, and yours came with something you could have never seen or expected.

warnings: flashbacks, mentions of violence, threats.

tag list: @mullthingsoverinthehotwater​ @hoe4cedricdiggory​ @queenl04​ @persephone-archives​ @0niko-san​ @annasdani​ @joalinbenefits​ @awritingtree​ @confuscita​ @badgal-jackie​ @cedricsfluffyhair​ @degeathesaviour

word count: 3.9k

a/n: there’s quite a lot to absorb in this chapter, but I love how it turned out!

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

“In the eye of the hurricane, there is quiet for just a moment.”

Before every storm, there is a calm. When everything feels right, everything seems to fall into place. You think everythings is going to be alright.

And for a while it was.

You had someone beside you, a friend you could nod at in the hallways, or talk about homework with, and it was enough. You spent your entire life doing everything alone, and suddenly it all changed. A grey eyed hufflepuff had managed to sneak into your lonely existence and put a smile on your face. It was sweetly excruciating. You were truly grateful for his company, and enjoyed having Cedric around, it was just hard showing him that, when you had never had a friend before. You were in forigen territory and you could tell Cedric found it hilarious.

You’d catch him smirking when you struggled to ask him for assistance with anything, but in the end, he’d always help you through it, reassuring you and putting up with your awkward demeanor and your confusion towards his jokes.

“Come on y/n, you’re supposed to laugh!” Cedric chuckles, clutching his stomach as you stare on at him, book clutched in your grip as you cock your head sideways.

“Oh- um… Haha.” You deadpan, flicking your attention back to the novel residing in your hands as Cedric rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what jokes are either.” He huffs, standing from the table and plucking the book from your hands.

“I was raised alone, Cedric. Not under a rock.” You comment with a small smirk, swiping it back and pressing back the pages Cedric had wrinkled.

“Okay, okay. We’ve been here all day though, can we please at least go to the courtyard, my legs are starting to go numb from sitting in this bloody chair.” Cedric pouts, glancing longingly out the windows.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug, shutting your book and picking up your bag. “You’re sure about being seen with me?” You inquire softly.

“You don’t have to ask that everytime we go somewhere y/n.” The brunette huffs with a smile and a light shake of his head.

“Just need to make sure.” You remark, pursing your lips.

You never would get used to walking the halls with someone. A friend.

You could tell Cedric’s struggles about being seen with you grew less and less apparent as your friendship progressed. You even dealt with less harassment from your peers as Cedric spent more time with you. Aside from the occasional scoff or glare from one of Cedric’s admirers or a person that hates you, everything was going alright.

You round the corner to the clocktower courtyard, drop yourself onto the stone structure and pull out the transfigurations homework you had yet to finish.

“Oh no you don’t!” Cedric sighs, taking your hands and plucking the papers away. You flinch back at the sudden contact.

Cedric’s eyes widen as he realizes what he did. “Oh my goodness, y/n I’m so sorry.”

“N-No, Cedric it’s alright. You just scared me is all.” You reassure, brushing it off with a light chuckle.

Cedric’s tensed shoulders begin to relax and he offers his hand to you again. “I still think it’s too early for homework. How about a walk around instead?” Cedric suggests, smiling to himself as you roll your eyes, but eventually take his outstretched hand.

“I guess a walk wouldn’t hurt.”

The afternoon faded to evening, but Cedric continued to walk around the Hogwarts ground with you. He laughed and joked, ran around the trees and dipped his hands into the freezing cold lake, while you stood beside him and allowed a small grin on your face as you breathed in the summer air and enjoyed the soft breeze.

Everything was perfect, everything felt right, everything except the strange pink coat that dusted Cedric’s cheeks whenever he’d managed to make you smile. You had no idea what that could possibly be, so you chose to ignore it. Cedric seemed so happy, it must be from all his running around.

“Hey Ced, it’s almost dinner, we should probably head back to the castle now.” You sigh as the sun became no more than a bright line in the purple stained sky.

“Oh alright.” He chuckles, standing from his spot on the field. “For you.” He smiles as he lifts a small white wildflower to your face.

You smile at the small bloom and reach your hand out to take it between your fingers when a sense of strange dread washes over you.

You freeze as the feeling passes, a mix of being watched and being cursed. Cedric doesn’t seem to notice at first, but as your eyes glass over and your hand freezes, he knows something is up.

He hears a rustle from the outskirts of the forbidden forest and two blurry shadows emerge.

“Y/n, we have to go now!” He whispers hurriedly as you snap yourself out of your daze and nod. Cedric tucks the wildflower behind your ear and creeps behind the large bushes with you in tow. The two of you are quick to make a mad dash as soon as you’re out of immediate sight of whatever creature was lurking on the edge of the forest, and entering the familiar, warm hallways of Hogwarts.

“D-Did you feel that too?” You ask over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Feel what?”

“That we were being watched! L-Like someone was going to hex us.” You stammer, glancing back every few moments at the strange burning feeling at the back of your neck.

“No… Maybe you’re just tired y/n, I’ll walk you back to your common room.” Cedric sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling his cloak a little closer to his body despite the warm temperature.

You nod gently and begin the walk down to the slytherin common room, removing the flower from your hair and gently playing with the petals.

“Anyways, do you have any plans for the summer?” Cedric chimes in an attempt to rid of the thought hanging limp in your mind.

“Y/n?” He questions again when you don’t respond.

“Hm? Oh, usually I spend the summers at my old house, after I grew old enough the orphanage kicked me out and the ministry allows me to live by myself under strict conditions.” You sigh, thinking of the loneliness you would have to endure after school ended for holidays later this month.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If anything it’s still better than being stuck in the orphanage that did not want me.” You murmur, pursing your lips and sticking the blossom behind your ear again.

“I-I don’t mean to intrude, but do you ever… Miss your parents?” Cedric inquires softly.

You pause for a moment, choosing your words carefully.

“Every child misses their parents when they’re away. The problem is I barely knew my parents so I miss them in a different way.” You begin. Cedric looks at you to continue.

“If... You’re given a present on Christmas, but you aren’t allowed to open it, or know what’s inside, then obviously you’d be very upset. But as you go about your holiday, people tell you what they believe is inside the present. They tell you horrible things, and now you wonder if you really do want to open your gift.” You sigh, rounding the last corner to your common room. “They’re my parents, I obviously miss them. It’s just I don’t know what to think after all that’s happened through my life.” you pause, curling your hands into fists and letting out a loud sigh.

“Thanks for walking me back Cedric, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nod to the brunette, whispering the password and stepping into the empty common room. Everyone must still be at dinner.

Cedric looks as though he wants to say more so you wait with an expecting look.

“I- good night y/n.”

“Good night Cedric.” You respond, allowing the door to creak to a close behind you.

Cedric curses himself in front of the door. This wasn’t how he had wanted that to go. He could have said anything, called you beautiful, invited you to go to the great hall to get some food before you went to bed, anything would have been better than stuttering out a goodnight!

He was just so deep in thought thinking about your story. How little people really chose to know and understand about you. He walked away with joy about the day’s activities, but also with a new feeling of disappointment and worry.

You collapse into your four poster with a light smile on your face as you hold the small flower in your hand and bring it to your nose again. Earthy rain and sweet petals fill your nose as you replay your day with Cedric over and over again. It was nice to have a friend like him in your life, but a strange feeling in your stomach gave you a new kind of sensation. One you hadn’t felt before, and you liked it.

As the great authors you’d read would say, it was like butterflies swarming her stomach, a loss for words when you looked into his eyes and the urge to hold him in your arms.

“No, Cedric is just a friend.” You laugh to yourself, hoping tomorrow would be just as amazing as today.

You lift your wand from your pocket and run your fingers across the beautiful design, breathing deeply as you cast a charm to keep the flower from wilting. You smile and set the blossom on your desk when a small crack brings your attention back to the real world, and a short cackle makes your blood run cold.

“Well, well, well. It’s been a long time, trouble.” A breathy high pitched voice rings from the shadows in the corner of your room.

“Oh do be nice darling, poor thing probably doesn’t remember who we are.” A lower, deeper voice calls from beside her.

You raise your wand again, this time with more malicious intentions than to charm a flower.

“Who are you? A-And what are you doing in my dorm?” You demand, pointing it back a forth from the man and woman in the pair.

“Oh poppet.” The woman laughs, stepping out of the dark corner.

“After everything we’ve done to get back to you that hardly seems the appropriate response.” She smiles.

Your jaw drops and as the man steps out from behind the curtain of darkness your hand flies to your locket. It couldn’t be! Your parents were locked away in Azkaban! How in Merlin’s name could they possibly be standing in front of you in Hogwarts of all places.

Your head snaps up and down towards the clean cut couple in the locket to the crazed, disgruntled pair standing before you.

“You…”

“Oh look dear, she still has the locket.” Your mother exclaims, pulling on your father's tattered sleeve as he nods slowly.

Your mother takes another step closer, and you can see the dirt and grime smeared on her face, the longing look in her eyes. She looked exhausted, but psychotic at the same time. You glance over at your father, but he makes no move. Stoic, as your mother creeps closer to you in the most disturbing manner, almost as if she were sizing up her prey.

“Sixteen long years we’ve been kept apart.” She breathes heavily, finally reaching you and running the back of her hand down your cheek.

“Kept away by those imbeciles at the ministry.” She continues using a mocking tone at the word ministry, lifting your chin up and inspecting your face.

“You’ve grown so much, trouble. Those disgusting little creatures will pay for what they’ve done.” She growls. “All will be well when the dark lord rises again.”

Your jaw drops and your blood runs with fear. “H-He’s coming back?!”

Your mother giggles as if you’ve just said the most hilarious thing and looks at you as though you were a puppy.

“Of course darling! And when he rules, everything will be right again. Order restored.” She cackles. “You’ll be with us again poppet, we promise.” Your father finally speaks, his cracked lips pulling into a dangerous smile.

“Severus will watch over you for the time being, at least until they know we’re gone.” You mother giggles again. “It was nice to see you again poppet.” Your mother smiles darkly.

“Now rest.” She demands, pushing her wand against your forehead and watching as you collapse against the mattress.

“Are you sure we can’t bring her with us, Diana?” Your father asks with a sigh.

“She’ll have her time when she’s ready, Anguis. Now I told Narcissa to take her for the summer, she’ll be safe with the Malfoys for now.” She smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“When the Dark Lord rises again, we can be the family we were meant to be.” She promises softly pushing the hair on your face behind your ear. “She looks just like us Anguis.”

“Yes, I suppose she does.” He nods.

“Now let’s go, before someone senses us.” Your mother sighs, flicking her wand.

“Hush my darling, don’t say a word. Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, and If that mockingbird don’t sing. Papa’s gonna send you a hurricane, and if that hurricane won’t strike. I’ll kill them myself, don’t you strife.”

Your mother’s lullaby.

She’d sing it to you every night as you lay in the crib.

She was in the middle of singing it when the Aurors came and took them away. You could hear your parent’s screams as they were forced to the ground and taken away. Why were you remembering this now? What was happening...

“Y/n wake up.” A low, hushed voice whispers pulling you from your memory.

Your eyes blink rapidly as you adjust your eyes to the light.

“Mr. Severus? What are you doing here.” You question, wondering why the head of house was standing in your room.

“To keep the other students from attempting to kill you.” He states plainly placing a newspaper down into your lap.

‘Anguis and Diana L/n have escaped Azkaban, please keep a lookout for these two wizards.’ The headline read with the mugshots of your parents staring maliciously back at you.

“So it wasn’t a dream…”

“They came here didn’t they?” Snape sighs, flicking his wand to pack your suitcase with all your belongings. “Yes, what are you doing? How did you-”

“They weren’t supposed to stop here. Now Dumbledore knows they want you and he’s asked you to leave early.” Snape explains. “You’ll be staying with Narcissa and Lucius until we get this figured out, let’s go to Dumbledore’s office so we can Floo you there.” Snape sighs, ushering you out the door with your suitcase in tow.

Everything seems silent at first, but as soon as the door to the common room opens, you’re met with an eruption of shouting.

“This is all your fault!”

“My family is going to die because of you!”

“Death Eater! Death Eater!”

Were all common screams that were thrown your way. You kept your head down and followed Professor Snape’s flowing black robe as he did his best to keep the rest of the students at bay.

You did have to endure a couple of hits, but it was nothing you weren’t already used to.

“She’s going to blow us up like her parents did to the ministry!”

“Send her to Azkaban!”

“That’s enough!” Snape booms, his wand pressed against his throat must’ve meant he was using sonorus, and the students go quiet, they must not have realized he was there. You move behind him so you can continue on your way without the glares and shouts.

“T-They don’t know where I’m going do they?” You ask, worrying for the Malfoy’s.

“No Y/n, besides Lucius was rather eager to invite you. He and your father are rather close.”

“I just-”

“No one will come for the Malfoy’s. They made sure to keep your relocation a secret. You’ll still be back at Hogwarts next year.” He reassures.

You nod and your ears prick up at the sound of heavy breathing and several footfalls.

“Get out of my way! Y/n!” A familiar soft voice calls for you. Cedric.

“Shove off Tartal! Y/n, there you are.” The brunette gasps, catching his breath as he comes up behind you. “Cedric I-”

“Mister Diggory that’s quite enough. All of you get to your classes!” Snape seethes as most of the students disperse with disapproving expressions.

“Wait! Take this, please.” Cedric exclaims, passing you a piece of parchment as you gently take his hand into yours. “Cedric. Stay safe.” You smile, squeezing your intertwined hands.

“I’ll see you next year! I promise!” The brunette whispers one last time before walking to his next class.

‘Write to me.’ The slip read with his address printed in neat handwriting.

You smile as Snape ushers you forwards murmuring the password to the Headmaster’s office and walking up the winding stairs.

You finally reach the top to find the Head of Houses all standing around the room with Dumbledore at his desk in the middle.

“Ah Miss L/n. I do hope you know this is a mere precaution we must take to protect the school.” Dumbledore’s calm voice calls to you as you enter.

“O-Of course sir.” You nod, keeping your head down low as you notice the other teachers looking at you with tensed expression.

“Follow me Y/n.” Snape sighs, shooting the other teacher's death glares as he ushers you to the raging fire and hands you a bowl of floo powder.

“You know what to do.”

You nod and take a handful. Throwing it into the flames you step into the now green flames, tuck your arms into your side and as clearly as you can say your destination.

“Malfoy Manor.”

And in a puff of smoke you were gone.

“Severus-”

“She’s just a child and you know that. All of you know that.” He seethes, stomping out of the office.

You had never met the afamed Malfoys. You knew that they must have been close enough to your family for Draco to nod ‘hello’ every once in a while, but it wasn’t until you emerged from the pristine fireplace did you realize how close your parents really were to Lucius and Narcissa.

“Oh Lucius, y/n is here!” A woman’s soft voice calls from beside the fireplace. That must be Narcissa. “Ah, the young L/n. Nice to finally meet you.” A man answers back, walking into the room and up to you to shake your hand. Lucius, you could see the resemblance to Draco.

“Mr and Mrs. Malfoy, It’s a pleasure.” You smile, shaking Lucius’s hand and turning to Narcissa. “Oh y/n, there’s no need for this kind of formality with your family.” She smiles, wrapping you in a hug.

You tense as your heart drops to your stomach and your vision begins to swim and cloud. How could you have other family members? You were left alone for sixteen bloody years...

“F-Family?”

“Did you not know? Your mother is my sister darling.” Narcissa laughs, running her hand down your head.

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Y-You mean to tell me I’ve spent sixteen years helplessly alone, and I’ve had family this entire time?” You question, pulling back from Narcissa’s arms.

Her eyes widen and you can feel the atmosphere in the room change. “Oh my Merlin, y/n no! We were already being watched by the ministry, we couldn’t take you in while we were still being trialled for Azkaban as well!” She explains hurriedly.

“Your parents knew we had no real involvement with any big events, so they wanted us to wait until we were truly clear to look after you!” She finishes, noticing the look of pain written all over your features.

“We’ve finally got the ministry off our backs dear, you can stay here now.”

“She’s telling the truth y/n, this was for the better.” Lucius sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring, but you felt rather queasy instead.

You fake a smile and clear your throat.

“Where will I be staying? I-I’m rather tired and would like to lay down.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip and doing your best to keep yourself upright.

“Oh! Of course dear, please follow me.” Narcissa smiles warmly, leading you up a staircase as your suitcase floats up behind you.

You round a corner to a lightly furnished room near the back of the Manor and step inside.

“Get some rest, I’ll call someone to fetch you when dinner is ready.” Narcissa sighs, nodding and wrapping you in another short hug. You don’t know how to reciprocate so you pat her back gently and she lets go.

“It’s good to have you with us Y/n, it’s truly been too long.” She nods, leaving you to unpack your belongings.

“A-And I hope you understand, I do truly apologize for how long it took.” She comments sadly as you sit on the bed with an unreadable expression.

“No- No, it’s alright Aunt Narcissa. I-I’m glad you told me.” You murmur, popping open the clasp to your suitcase.

The woman seems relieved by this and she smiles, finally closing the door and walking back downstairs.

You couldn’t believe everything that had happened in less than 24 hours. Your parents escaped Azkaban, came to visit you and the next thing you knew you were shipped out to the Malfoy’s where you discovered they had been family, who left you alone for sixteen years.

You couldn’t exactly stay mad at them though. Narcissa was right, Draco would have lost his parents too if they had taken you in right away.

Maybe that’s why the blonde had always nodded hello, you were cousins and you didn’t even know.

You flip open the suitcase to find all your textbooks, clothing, quills and books nearly piled in with a newspaper wrapped around something resting at the top.

You reach for the paper and unroll it to read the rest of the article from this morning, but it was a different story. More recent to be exact.

‘L/n’s daughter Y/n has disappeared as search for Anguis and Diana continue. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore says, “she has been relocated for her safety and ours. She is not a threat, but her parents are and we cannot have them coming back.” We are once again asking to keep a lookout for these dangerous criminals please contact...

You sigh and place the newspaper on the bedside drawer and turn back to unpack when something else catches your attention.

Something was wrapped in the newspaper and had fallen from the paper onto your books.

The white wildflower. You smile as you pick it up, remembering all the fun you had only a few short hours ago.

White flowers. The blossom that represents purity and innocence, that also means death.

You chuckle at the irony of it all; Innocence and death, but you knew it really meant more.

Something was coming, your calm was over.

In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet for just a moment, and your moment was up.

The storm was upon you once again, and this time, it was stronger than ever.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 18

cruel summer masterlist

AN: This chapter is almost 4k words... whereas most of them have been just over 2k, so -- we had a lot of things going on. And some hopefully insightful revelations. Anyway, thank you all for your patience while I struggled with this one. I hope you enjoy learning a litttle bit more about Aelin. Okay, ONWARDS!

Aelin glances at her buzzing phone and silences it. It rings with another phone call from her dad that she sends straight to voicemail. It’s been almost three weeks since her blowout fight with her mom, and her dad has tried in vain to get them to reconcile – she’s just not ready yet.

“Your dad again?” Rowan asks, coming to sit on the couch with her. Rowan has been an undeniable pillar of strength through it all. He hasn’t pushed her to talk about the fight – he’s simply let her exist in his space, giving her a wide berth to process everything. Which is ironic, because Aelin has refused to process a single thing. She’s pushed all her discontent to the back of her brain, easily compartmentalized and boxed away to be dealt with at a later date. It’s Aelin’s most impressive ability. But, regardless of “not dealing,” she knows that without Rowan’s silent support she would have fallen apart already. She can’t even begin to express her gratefulness to him. Though, she’s tried. With her mouth. And other parts of her body.

Rowan’s fingers gently dance against the bare skin of her shoulder, and she leans into him and nods. He pulls her tighter into his side and kisses her forehead, and Aelin melts into him further.

Their moment is interrupted by Manon entering the small apartment. She takes a look at the couple on the couch and attempts to reign in her scowl, but Aelin spots it anyway. She’s come to realize that Manon might not be her biggest fan.

“Oh, you’re here…” Manon says, tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter.

“Not for long,” Rowan replies, and Aelin perks up, curious. She’d assumed they were just going to hang out in his room, like usual. Rowan looks back down at Aelin. “I was thinking we could go take some photos on the beach before the sun completely sets.”

Rowan’s favorite activity makes Aelin smile. He received a brand new Nikon and zoom lens from his mother in the mail, and she’s never seen Rowan so outwardly blown away as when he pulled it from the box. He’s snapped more pictures than she can count over the last few weeks, most of them of Aelin, which she pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.

Aelin glances down at her outfit – comfy leggings and one of Rowan’s old college t-shirts. “I’ll go get changed.”

He squeezes her hand as she gets up from the couch, and she makes her way into Rowan’s room to sort through the pile of clothes Dorian pinched from her room at home. She throws on a dark blue maxi dress and pulls her hair from its top knot. She fluffs her hair in the mirror, feeling more camera ready.

Rowan smiles when he sees Aelin emerge from his room, and her stomach flutters at the sight of his contented face.

They wave goodbye to Manon, who replaces them on the couch with her dinner, looking relieved to have the place to herself.

“Where to?” Aelin asks as Rowan ushers her down to his truck.

“Know any good private beaches?” he asks, and she frowns. She does. It just happens to be a very short walk away from her backyard. Rowan sees her face and squeezes her hand over the center console. “We don’t have to see your family. But. I thought maybe you’d want to.”

Aelin scrolls through the many texts from her father, which she’s left unanswered.

Fireheart, we understand you need time to cool down, but please call us when you’re ready.

Please, Aelin. Talk to us.

Your mother is sorry. She didn’t mean what she said. She was just emotional. She loves you so much. It’s upsetting her every day to know that she hurt you so badly.

Do you plan to stay with Elide indefinitely?

Are you really going to miss out on our family park day?

Gavin and Evie asked where you were today.

Dorian stopped to get your clothes. He says you’re doing well, but I’d really like to see for myself.

Fireheart, I understand that you’re hurt, but cutting us out isn’t going to make this better.  

We return to Adarlan in less than a month. Let’s not have this argument ruin the rest of the summer.

The texts feel endless. And Aelin does miss her dad. She just can’t believe her mom hasn’t tried to reach out and apologize to her. After everything she said… Aelin shakes it off, not willing to think about those hateful words and shrugs at Rowan.

“Sure.”

“Really?” he asks cautiously. Aelin nods. He’s right. Their private beach is the perfect place for a sunset photoshoot.

They park at the Playland, which is still bustling with activity, and walk down the beach until they get to the pale sand behind the Ashryver’s estate. Aelin glances up at her room balcony in the distance, half covered in twining roses, and her chest clenches uncomfortably.

Rowan surprises Aelin by wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, and she relaxes into him. He leans down and sticks his nose against her neck, and Aelin releases a shaky breath. As his chin finds a place to rest on her shoulder, Aelin’s eyes slide toward him, taking in the periphery of his tanned face and messy hair. She can’t help but smile.

Click.

The shutter of the camera whirs as Rowan takes a picture of them.

“Test shot,” he says, straightening up and looking at the display. Aelin peers over his arm to look, too, and she gasps at the casually beautiful photo.

It’s a closeup of their faces – with a soft pastel sunset out of focus behind them. But the thing that really shocks is the way she looks at Rowan. And the way he smiles back at her. She looks so happy with him. Aelin is so happy with him. She wants to print that photo out and keep it forever so she can remember this feeling long after this summer ends. Her stomach rumbles with something akin to sadness, but she pushes it far, far down. She knows her feelings about her mother aren’t the only thing she’s decided to compartmentalize – but she’s not going to unpack those either.

“I think that’s the first picture you’ve taken of us together,” she comments coolly, and Rowan lifts an eyebrow.

“I guess it is.” He looks down at the display screen again, then back at her with a confident smile. “We look pretty good together.”

“You’ll send that one to me, right?” she asks, and Rowan’s green eyes glow brightly as he assures her he will.

He leans down and kisses her forehead – his new favorite place to kiss, and a blanket of warmth and joy caresses Aelin’s face. Rowan directs her down to the water, where the small waves crash against the sand, and Aelin pulls up the long skirt of her dress, so as not to get wet. As she skips through the waves, her feet dancing in circles across the darkened sand, Rowan snaps pictures.

Aelin lets her heavy worries about her mother and their fight and the impending end of summer float away as she enjoys living in this moment. The setting sun casts shadows of deep magenta and purple and orange across the water, shimmering across the small ripples in the water. Feeling the cool sand beneath her toes, Aelin tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and grins.

She breathes in the salty sea air, especially pungent with the evening tide, but her moment of calm is disrupted by a large wave, which knocks against the back of her thighs, breaking all over her skirt, drenching her up to her waist.

Her eyes shoot open as she squeals loudly, and her peals of laughter float across the beach as Rowan continues taking pictures from the dry safety behind his camera.

Aelin runs out of the water and drops her dress skirt to the ground. It’s completely soaked.

Rowan finally lowers his camera, and she can see him biting his lip in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up.” Aelin pouts as a cool breeze whips through the air, whirling around her and making her skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Come here,” he says with a soft smirk, and she happily obeys.

Rowan rubs his hands up and down her bare shoulders, trying fruitlessly to warm her as the sun completely descends behind the horizon. As she tries to wring the water out of her dress, Aelin shivers. Searching for more heat, she tries to pull herself closer to Rowan, but he takes a large step back.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” he laughs, and Aelin winks.

“You didn’t seem to mind that last night.”

Rowan’s cheeks redden, and Aelin cackles, loving how easily she can fluster him, just with the mention of sex.

He stares at her, and she watches as his bright eyes darken as she takes a large step toward him. He steps back again.

“Aelin, no…” he warns.

“Aelin, yes,” she decrees as she leaps into his arms, pressing her wet body against his as she attacks his face with kisses. He laughs against her lips, and she tightens her grip around his neck, pulling him as close as he can get to her.

“You’re evil,” he mumbles between kisses, and Aelin thinks he’s far too coherent if he’s able to reply so easily.

She squeezes her legs around his waist and drags her mouth to his ear. She scrapes her teeth down his strong jaw and lets her tongue snake out and taste his skin. Aelin’s efforts are rewarded with a pained groan and the feeling of Rowan’s fingers sliding through her hair and caressing the nape of her neck.

She reaches back for his lips and she hums happily as he lets her deepen their kiss. After she’s sated, she slows and pulls her face back to catch her breath. She smiles and kisses his lips softly.

Rowan smiles back, and as she looks into his eyes, she sees the depths of emotion that truly terrify her. Her box of emotions threatens to open and spill everywhere, and she can’t have that. She closes her eyes and kisses him one last time before sliding down onto the cold sand, awash in guilt. And not just for dampening his clothes with ocean water.

“Should I sneak into your room and grab you something dry to wear?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

Aelin lifts her nose as the faint traces of cigar smoke waft through the air. She would know that smell anywhere. It smells like summer nights on her back patio with her dad. Her stomach clenches.

“No,” she whispers. “Let’s just go.” She bolsters herself by plastering a cocky smile across her face and squeezing Rowan’s hand. “You can warm me up when we get home.”

“But that means you’ll be getting wet all over again,” Rowan deadpans, and Aelin’s feet stop moving in shock.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” she says, eyes wide. “Did you just make a dirty joke?”

His cheeks flame with a dark blush, and she drags him back to his truck quickly, so he can follow through on his promise.  

He does, and then some, and Aelin wakes up the next morning sore and satisfied.

She stretches out and frowns at the cold spot next to her where Rowan should be. He’s up early today. She hears voices murmuring outside in the living room and decides to get dressed and join them. She’s stepping into her shorts when she hears Manon’s sharp voice ask, “And what about our no live-in girlfriend rule?”

Aelin moves closer to the closed door and listens as shame rises within her. She knew she’d overstayed her welcome.

“It doesn’t count if she’s not my girlfriend,” Rowan quips back, and Aelin bites her lip, worrying the skin there. She can hear the anger in his biting tone, and it unnerves her.

“Oh please, you gave her apartment keys, Rowan.” Manon says with an undignified snort.

“So she doesn’t feel like a prisoner, trapped with nowhere to go!”

“Come on, dude,” Manon drawls. “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

“We’re not ducks,” Rowan insists, and Aelin almost laughs with Manon at his reply.

“You are ducks, and also liars,” Manon insists. “Quack, quack, bitch.” A long beat of silence.

“I’ll talk to her,” Rowan says, his former anger turning into resignation. Aelin knows this means she needs to start thinking about where she’s going to go next. She knows Aedion and Lysandra would let her crash, but she’s not sure she’s forgiven Aedion for everything he said about Rowan, either. She definitely can’t stay at Dorian’s; his father gives her the creeps. And with Elide and Lorcan just getting together, she has no intention of being a cockblock to one of her best friends. Maybe it’s finally time to go home.

She remembers the faint smell of cigar and sighs. As if on cue, her phone buzzes with another text from her dad.

Can I take you out to lunch? Anywhere you want. You won’t have to see your mom.

Aelin finally responds.

Okay.

Her dad is ecstatic, and replies back quickly, arranging details to meet at Aelin’s favorite sandwich shop in town. A small little hole in the wall Italian deli called Rinaldi’s.

When Rowan enters his bedroom, he clutches at his hair nervously, and Aelin decides to put him out of his misery quickly. She doesn’t need him to explain why she needs to leave.

“So, I finally texted my dad back,” she says, and Rowan’s eyes widen in surprise. That is not the conversation he was expecting to have.

“Wow. Uh… what prompted that?” he asks, looking at her seriously.

She shrugs. “Maybe being at the house last night. Maybe it’s just time to get over it.” She looks around the room. “I know I’ve been here way too long.”

Rowan looks alarmed. “No, no. I told you you could stay as long as you want, and I meant it.” He pauses and swallows nervously. “I’ve really enjoyed having you here.”

“I’ve enjoyed being here,” she admits, and her heart beats faster at the blinding grin that takes over Rowan’s face. “But, we’ll see how convincing my dad is.”

“Okay,” he says nervously. She kisses him softly and smiles.

“Now go, before you’re late to work.” She grabs him by the collar of his polo and kisses him again, and she loves the way the tips of his ears turn pink – the first tell tale signs of his arousal. She likes leaving him flustered and wanting more. Plus, it’s nearly impossible for her to keep her hands to herself, so it works out nicely.

Aelin lazes around Rowan’s room for the rest of the morning, too scared to run into Manon, who works from home. She finally sneaks out and makes her way to the restaurant. She hopes to get there with time to spare, but when she arrives, Rhoe is already waiting outside, arms crossed nervously.

Aelin resists the urge to hug him, nodding tightly instead. She leads him in and orders her favorite sandwich – prosciutto and provolone with hot peppers and vinegar on a roll. And her dad’s – hot pastrami with swiss and mustard on rye – and then finds a small table near the window.

Rhoe looks tired. If the bags under his eyes are any indication, he hasn’t been sleeping much.

“You look good.” He reaches out a hand across the table and then retracts it, nervously, unsure of what to do.

“You look terrible,” Aelin replies. Her filter must be broken this morning. Rhoe laughs, despite her comment.

“The two loves of my life are fighting,” he says quietly, and Aelin is torn between wanting to scream at him or cry. Either way, she’s about to unleash three weeks worth of feelings she’s been ignoring.

Crying wins out. Moisture stings the corners of her eyes as her eyes fill with tears. She blinks rapidly, trying to keep them in, but a rogue tear drips down her cheek. She swipes at it hastily and breathes deeply, trying to get her emotions back under control. But she can’t. And she suddenly feels very, very small.

“Is that really what mom thinks of me?” Aelin asks, her voice barely a whisper through the thick frog in her throat. “That I’ve been a waste of her time and money?”

“No, Fireheart,” he assures her, finally reaching for her hand across the table. Aelin lets him.

“I’m sorry I don’t like Sam, but he’s not nice, Daddy.” Another tear falls from her eye. And another. Aelin can’t swipe at them fast enough. “He’s so spoiled. And entitled. And…” Her voice breaks. “And I don’t want to be anything like him. But… she likes him, and she hates me.”

“Oh, baby, she doesn’t hate you,” Rhoe insists. “She loves you. So, so much.” He pauses. “She just doesn’t understand why you don’t want the same life she has.” Rhoe sighs. “Believe it or not, this is a fight I’ve had with her many times before. Every time she enrolled you in etiquette classes or ballroom dance lessons or cotillion…” He sighs.

“Aedion was just so eager to fit in,” he continues. “He wanted to follow in the Ashryver footsteps. To join the business. But you have never wanted that.” Rhoe laughs, recalling a memory. “I remember the first time you came home from your etiquette classes. You pulled those little white gloves off your hand and said ‘YUCK’ so loud. You were disgusted by the fact that you had to touch some little boy’s hand.”

Aelin remembers those lessons. The girls stood in a circle on the inside, while the boys stood in a circle on the outside, facing them. They’d learned how to give a proper handshake, and curtsey and bow. She was only nine. She had hated every second of it. The dance lessons were even worse.

“They were sweaty,” Aelin chokes out, and her dad smiles sadly.

“When you started dating Chaol,” he begins again, and Aelin tenses up. She’s not sure she’s ready for the commentary on her five year long failed relationship. “Mom was so excited. Long time friends with the Havillards. In your college class. Destined for business, just like his father. But, you never quite fit with him. And I watched you try and change yourself, contort yourself to be the partner Chaol wanted. And we all saw your light dim.”

Aelin doesn’t bother swiping her tears as her father talks. They run in steady streams down her cheeks and down her chin, dripping onto the table.

“But since you’ve been free of him, you have bloomed again. You have been glowing this entire summer, and I’m sorry your mother hasn’t seen it.” He looks her straight in the eye. “But I do.”

Aelin sniffles loudly. The waiter places their sandwiches in front of them, looking terrified at the scene in front of him, so Aelin waves him off, assuring him she’s fine.

“So, you’re not going to sell me off to the highest bidder just because I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet?” she asks.

“All we want you to do with your life is be happy,” Rhoe says and takes a large bite of his sandwich. “Whatever that means to you.”

“What if what makes me happy doesn’t live up to her expectations?” Aelin fiddles with her napkin.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to that,” Rhoe says, patting Aelin’s hand comfortingly. “So, will you please come back home?” he asks, and Aelin nods.

“On one condition,” she says, and Rhoe clasps his hands, waiting patiently for her to continue. “I want to go on the staff overnight next weekend.” She clears her throat. “Elide has been talking about it for years. That it’s her favorite weekend of the summer, and I’m friends with all of them anyway, and I want to go.”

Rhoe chuckles. “That’s the condition? Not… an apology from your mother?”

Aelin shrugs. “I only want her apology if she means it.”

“Fine,” Rhoe replies. “I’ll have your mom talk to Lorcan about adding you to the list of attendees.” He pauses. “You know there’s a ropes course, right? And hiking?” Aelin nods. “It’s just… you’re not much of an outdoor girl, honey.”

Aelin frowns. Her father’s right, she’s not much for hiking and trust activities, but she doesn’t want to lose a whole weekend with Rowan either. Not with so little of the summer left.

“I’m going.”

He holds up his hands in defeat. “Your condition is accepted.”

The pair finish their sandwiches in relative silence, which is good because Aelin can’t begin to process everything her dad just said to her. She feels somewhat reassured, but she can’t stop hearing her mother’s shrill voice repeating, “You have been a waste of my time and money!” over and over in her head. And she knows without a doubt if she really told her mom what was making her happy this summer, she’d be saying much, much worse.

Her dad is right – she has never wanted to be part of the family business, nor has she wanted to be married off and slip into high society life. And those are the only paths her mom views as viable.

Aelin can’t allow herself the privilege of thinking of other possible paths. Other paths with other people. She has no idea what that life might look like, but she knows it’s not allowed for her. If she even barely contemplates the possibility of that future, she knows she will be crushed when she can’t have it. Her chest tugs, wanting her to open that box, and see what that option holds for her, as dead ended as it might be. But she ignores it.

This is nothing more than a summer fling, she reminds herself. When she gets back to Adarlan, she’ll recalibrate and figure out what her life’s purpose is. But for the next few weeks, she’s sticking with what makes her happy. Here. In Terrasen.

She pulls out her phone and texts Rowan:

My dad was pretty convincing. I’m headed back home tonight.

I’ll leave the window unlocked for you ;)

“Everything alright?” Rhoe asks, wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

“Yup,” Aelin assures him, far too brightly. It is. At least, for now.

~*~*~*~*~

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[catflorist]

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 6: time

Whispers ignited, naming the figure before them.

Here was the sole survivor of the Uchiha massacre. The former Konoha genin with promising skill and power. The rogue nin, the traitor. The Akatsuki member, the criminal, the political adversary and enemy to the village.

Sasuke turned his head to scan the crowd. He stopped when his eyes found Sakura's.

Here was Sasuke, in the same place and time as her.

"I'm here to fight alongside you," he announced. He was speaking to everyone, but looking at Sakura.

Sakura couldn't move. Everywhere around her, a wave was crashing.

Naruto darted towards Sasuke, buzzing with joy. His loud voice carried as he introduced himself to Sasuke's three teammates.

Sakura took a short step forward and halted. Her chakra network hummed with energy, swirling within the internal reserves she had created and filled to the brim over the past five years. It was time for every long, drawn out thing she had been waiting for to unfold at once.

Just over the rocky ledge, the battle was calling. Impatient, and finished with introductions and reintroductions, Naruto bounded away to join the fight.

Sasuke was waiting. "Sakura. Aren't you coming?"

With that, she knew where they stood. The wind stirred his long hair––long enough to tie back, though he hadn't decided to yet. He wasn't the man who had offered her his cloak, but he was the closest she had ever seen.

"Sasuke-kun," she sighed out, eyes falling shut. "I need a moment…"

With three deep breaths, the seal grew into existence on the center of her brow.

When she opened her eyes, Sasuke was smiling at her.

They entered the fray together.

.

.

Gripping Obito's shoulders, Sakura released her seal. With her borrowed energy, Obito harnessed the power of his Rinnegan and tore a portal into the air.

They flitted between dimensions, searching for Sasuke. Snowflakes blew into their faces, then the scent of a forest, then a puff of hot dry air.

Sakura gasped. "There!"

Sasuke stood on the tip of a distant sand dune. Sakura couldn't hear a thing with how loudly the blood pumped in her ears. She tightened her hold on Obito and burned through her chakra, funneling it all into him. Obito grunted with the desperate effort of keeping the portal open. His shoulders shook under Sakura's touch.

Sasuke raced towards them, kicking up clouds of red sand in his wake.

The portal flickered shut like a breath to a flame. No, she thought.

She didn't know she was falling back until something solid and warm stopped her fall.

Sasuke's mismatched eyes, two deep wells of red and purple, met hers.

"Yokatta," she breathed. Sasuke squeezed her shoulder. Though they had not touched in years, he held her perfectly, with a surety and firmness that made Sakura feel weightless. Her head fell back upon the crook of his neck.

"Hm. You lied to me, Sasuke," Obito said.

"Takes a liar to know one," Sasuke said. Tucked so close, Sakura felt the vibration of his voice in his throat.

"For me, it was two people," Obito said, standing. "My old teammates."

Sakura did not know what this meant. She lifted her head. Sasuke pressed her more firmly to his side.

Obito addressed Sakura. "You okay, kid? You've got quite a lot of chakra, but that was rough."

"I'm fine now," she said, righting herself on her feet. Sasuke's hand did not drop from her arm. "Thank you for helping."

Obito nodded. Sakura glanced at Sasuke and only then did he let her go.

They fought together. They took down the moon.

Old rivalries outlasted the war. Sasuke and Naruto bristled as they faced each other, itching to continue an unresolved battle. The tomoe of Sasuke's Sharingan spun. Naruto clenched a fist, eyebrows drawn.

Sakura stepped between them. "Don't."

Naruto and Sasuke breathed heavily. Finally, Sasuke blinked. His eyes faded to their normal darkness. Naruto sighed, and the tension left his shoulders.

Sakura didn't use her strength. She didn't forcefully pull them apart. She asked, and they listened. Her word was the only convincing they needed.

Sakura lit her palms in green chakra. "Sit down. You both look a mess," she ordered. They obeyed. She knelt and healed them at the same time. When they were both in good shape, she healed the shallow scratch on Sasuke's cheek, though Tsunade would have called it a waste of chakra. At her touch on his face, Sasuke closed his eyes.

"You're both idiots." She meant to sound angry, but her voice shook. "What's the point in fighting each other? There are better battles."

Naruto's mouth twisted into a sheepish grin. He placed a hand on her back. "Sorry, Sakura-chan."

"I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you." Sasuke stared down at his clasped hands. "And that it's taken me so long."

Unable to speak, Sakura nodded. She sat between her boys. Kakashi approached and joined them.

They did not linger for long. They had a world to reawaken. But they spent a moment together in the silence. Enough time to mourn, to breathe, to watch a glimmer of light shine through the thick clouds.

.

.

The afternoon sun glared down on Sakura's back as she made her way through the loud and crowded allied forces encampment. She paused to shed her medic apron.

An insistent, waving hand caught her attention. "Sakura-chan!" Naruto shouted, sitting in the shade of a tent next to three other shinobi. "Come meet my new friends!"

Sakura wiped the sweat from her brow and drew closer. The faces of Sasuke's teammates came into focus.

"This is Suigetsu, Jugo, and Karin," Naruto announced, pointing. Suigetsu, polishing the blade of his sword with loving strokes, flashed a wide grin. Jugo blinked placidly in her direction and continued whittling a chunk of wood with a kunai. Karin looked to the left of Sakura's face and frowned.

"It's nice to meet you all," Sakura said, resisting an urge to rub the back of her neck. She was not nervous earlier, stabilizing the condition of a shinobi bleeding out on her operating table, but she was nervous now, facing Sasuke's teammates.

"You've got some blood in your hair," Karin remarked.

Sakura felt her face fall. "Oh," she said, a hand darting to find the offending strand.

Karin produced a cloth from her satchel, wet it with drinking water, and held it out with a smirk. Sakura accepted it with a rush of relief.

"Taka's been filling me in on what they've been up to," Naruto explained. Karin shifted in the tent's shadow, leaving room for Sakura to sit.

"Traveling, fighting, crime," Suigetsu summarized with a wink in Sakura's direction.

"Bickering," Jugo supplied, flicking away a curl of wood from the form in his hands.

Naruto barked out a laugh, and a grin rose to Sakura's face. "What about?" she asked. They also shared memories of bickering with Sasuke.

Karin's head snapped to the side, aiming a loaded look at Suigetsu.

Suigetsu sulked. "We have a difference in opinion about meal preparation."

"And why is that?" Karin prompted.

"Sasuke says 'onion skins aren't edible' and I'll 'ruin the meal,' or whatever," Suigetsu explained, with a passable impression of Sasuke's voice. "I'm not allowed to cook anymore. Can you believe that, Sakura-chan?" he asked.

"How awful," Sakura said with a smile, smoothing her hair.

"You missed a spot," Karin said. "Let me." She took over cleaning Sakura's hair, wetting then combing it through with her fingers. This sensation combined with the warm sun on her face had Sakura fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Are you going to braid each other's hair next?" Suigetsu jeered.

"If you want me to braid your hair, Suigetsu, you can just ask," Karin scoffed.

Suigetsu grinned at himself in the reflection of his blade. "Do you think it would suit me?"

After inspecting Suigetsu with narrowed eyes, Jugo shared a thoughtful look with Naruto. Naruto spoke for the both of them. "Why not?" he said.

Karin rolled her eyes and released Sakura's hair. "You're set," she said. "I have to say, it's nice to spend time with people beyond my idiot teammates."

"Speaking of idiots, where is Sasuke?" Naruto asked, voicing the very question on Sakura's mind.

"Karin sent him to find water," Suigetsu said.

"Ages go." Karin waved a hand. "He disappears sometimes, and thinks we don't notice." Suigetsu and Jugo shrugged in agreement without looking up from their respective tasks. Sakura tried not to look too interested.

"Ha!" Naruto exclaimed. "Sounds just like the bastard."

Jugo coughed softly and presented his finished carving to Naruto. "A toad for the toad sage," he said.

Naruto's eyes bugged out in surprise. "It's mine?" He turned the figurine over in his hands. "Jugo, you're amazing, 'yanno?"

As Naruto sang Jugo's praises, Sakura caught sight of a cloak and travel pack resting near the entrance of the tent. Her heart panged, knowing they belonged to Sasuke. He had folded and arranged his cloak neatly atop the pack just like he used to when they were genin. The left strap was rumpled and dirty, because that was the side he liked to grip when he walked a long distance. Despite the years, Sasuke went through the world with the same touch.

Sakura wanted to wait for Sasuke to return with the water, to sit and talk all together, and witness two teams merging into one. But her medic-nin duties called. She waved farewell and left for the infirmary tent.

By the time her shift ended, the sky was pink and orange, illuminating the rocky landscape in a warm glow. Sakura stepped outside the tent and stretched, settling back in her own body after hours spent in the flow of healing. Her vision swam with images of fractured radius and ulna bones, the type of injury the White Zetsu Army most commonly inflicted. It was a good shot––targeting the arms meant shinobi could not easily cast ninjutsu. Her hands almost hummed with the precise quantity of chakra needed to set and mend the bone.

"Sakura," called a quiet voice.

Sakura rubbed her eyes. "Don't tell me it's another proximal forearm fracture."

The medic did not respond. A gust of wind blew through the encampment, carrying the scent of stony soil and juniper. Sakura opened her eyes and nearly jumped. Sasuke stood before her.

She scrambled to place him. He had appeared with little warning, but he looked a lot like the Sasuke of her time, with long, unruly hair and mismatched eyes.

"Are you…are you my Sasuke?" she blurted, instantly lamenting her choice of words.

His mouth quirked. "I'm your Sasuke," he confirmed.

"I see," Sakura said, fighting the wave of heat rising to her cheeks. Sasuke remained silent, content to watch her struggle for words. Finally, she let out a breath. "We have a lot to talk about."

"We can start now," he offered.

To steady the uneven pace of her heart, she stalled. "I don't remember you being so willing to have a conversation."

"I've waited a long time to talk to you, Sakura."

A buzz filled Sakura's ears, calm and quiet, like plunging underwater. She had been waiting, too, from the instant she had blinked awake on that cold stone bench. Could it be true that her waiting was done?

Under Sasuke's attentive gaze, Sakura recounted each moment she witnessed him slipping through time and all that occurred in between. Halfway through describing Pain's attack, a medic-nin jostled shoulders with Sakura on their way into the infirmary tent. Sasuke's fingers brushed Sakura's elbow, a suggestion to move three paces to the left.

Sakura lost her train of thought. "What has it been like for you?" she asked, as Sasuke's touch vanished.

"What do you want to know?"

"How often do you slip?"

"It depends," he said. "Sometimes I slipped every night. Sometimes, years passed in between."

"What does it feel like?"

"A bit like falling."

Sakura frowned as Sasuke's earlier words registered. "Exactly how many times has it happened?"

"I've seen you countless times." His brow furrowed. "I always went to you, except once," he said, but Sakura barely heard him.

"Countless times?" she repeated, raking through her memory of their conversation on the bench––a conversation that replayed in her mind every single day. "You didn't tell me it was like that."

"I'm telling you now," he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

Sakura shook her head. She thought she'd known everything there was to know. "What happened the last time you saw me?"

A glint grew in Sasuke's eye. "You'll see."

Something about his expression made Sakura's mind go blank. "I...I can't think of any more questions right now."

"Fine," Sasuke said. "We have time."

They had time.

He could use a haircut, Sakura thought, looking up. They were standing close enough that if she reached a hand out, she could easily brush away the dark hair threatening to fall in his eyes.

"Oi, teme, Sakura-chan!"

Sakura blinked and took a step back. Her legs were tired from standing, and the steady flow of foot traffic around them was gone.

Naruto approached the tent, hoisting a sword as tall as Sakura over his shoulder. "What's taking you two so long?" he demanded.

Suigetsu burst around the bend. "I need that back now––"

"The food is ready and Karin's getting mad," Naruto said, returning the Executioner's Blade into Suigetsu's protective hands.

"I just polished it," Suigetsu muttered to himself, rubbing his sleeve over an invisible smudge.

Sasuke turned to Sakura. "I was supposed to tell you that you're invited to dinner."

Before accepting his invitation, Sakura marveled how they had talked long enough for the moon to rise in the sky, to cast the elegant features of Sasuke's face in a silver glow. All this time passed and he was still here with her, not slipping away into thin air. He was not going anywhere.

.

.

.

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Up next: Sasuke is back. The seasons pass. Notes: early update, bc i couldn't wait to share this chapter. as always, please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading :) ps, you can also find me on twitter (@catfloriste) for additional ramblings

[moonyandsaturn]

Seven

yet another dorlene oneshot based off of my favorite song on folklore <3 its also on my here on my ao3

“Hello.”

Dorcas turned around from her spot to see who might be talking to her. Summer break was coming to a close shortly and she was determined to spend it away from her disastrous family. Family as in her new baby brother who snagged all the attention.

Dorcas truly didn't understand it. Here she was the first born 11 year old daughter. Smart, bright, and beautiful, now being overthrown by a baby who cried at absurd times like three in the morning. So here she was in the nearby forest taking time to herself.

Her family lived in a small community. Her backyard was surrounded by a rain-rusted fence that was basically falling apart. Behind that was an empty and barren land, the most interesting thing she found there was a rolly polly that she gave the wonderful name of George. If you kept walking a little you would come to a small crowd of trees that ran for maybe 4 miles. It's there where a little creek ran. The last time Dorcas visited, there was a rickety swing tied with old rope to a tree branch. If you swung high enough, Dorcas was sure you could swing right across the creek. She thought about it but left the thought behind seeing how it wasn’t her swing.

“Hello? Are you deaf? That's cool, I’ve never met a deaf person before.”

Dorcas finally turned around to see a girl around her age sitting right on that swing. It must be hers, Dorcas thought.

“I’m not deaf.” She started and then continued with curiosity. “Is that your swing?”

“No. Found it here.” The blonde replied. Dorcas could guess that she was a bit shorter than herself. She had shoulder cut dirty blonde hair but not dirty blonde as in a light brown. It was quite literally dirty. Dorcas had to resist the urge to dust the dirt out of her hair. She wore long jean shorts that looked much too big for her body and an even bigger t-shirt that was in a pretty purple color. Her cheeks were splattered with freckles. Actually, her whole body was covered in freckles. Her face was sort of pinkish, it looked like she had been running but somehow it complemented her dark blue eyes that were overlapped in the middle corner. Dorcas’ eyes didn't do that, hers were simply black as was her braided hair.

“Well, why are you sitting on it if it's not yours?”

“Why not? No one else is here to tell on me.” She held her head high. “Are you gonna tell on me?”

“I don't even know you. How would I do that?” Dorcas responded.

The girl jumped off of the swing and walked over. “That's unfortunate, I’m fun to know.” Closer now, Dorcas could hear her lisp caused by braces. She went on. “I’m Marlene.”

“I’m Dorcas.”

“That's a weird name.” Marlene stated plainly.

“It was my grandmum’s name. And Marlene isn't such a pretty name, you know.”

“You’re not very nice, grandmum.” Marlene pouted.

Dorcas wanted to roll her eyes but knew if her mum was here to see her do that she’d get a spanking so instead she changed the subject. “Aren't you actually gonna swing on that.” She pointed to the swing. “You were just sitting on it.”

“No.” Marlene answered plutantly and then her face perked up. “Are you?”

“No.”

They didn't talk for a minute but for some reason Dorcas didn’t feel the need to leave.

“You should.”

“If you're not swinging on it, why should I?”

“Because I’m scared of falling into the water,” Marlene told her. “Are you scared of falling into the water?”

“No.”

“Then go swing on it!”

“... Fine.”

Marlene smiled as if this was her biggest victory ever.

Dorcs held on to the ropes on either side of her body tightly. She bent her neck forward to see how far the creek was from her. She planted her feet behind the swing and pushed herself forward.

“Go higher!” Marlene cheered.

“Shove off, will you?” Dorcas shouted back.

1 foot high.

The swing fell backwards again and Dorcas caught the ground and pushed off, surely kicking some dirt into Marlene's face. Or maybe not because Dorcas couldn't hear a reaction from her.

2 feet high.

At her highest now she was face to face with the little whole in the tree across the creek. She could feel her braids bounce against her back. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, she could hear the beads at the end of her braids clank together melodiously.

3 feet high.

“Hey!” Dorcas laughed at Marlene’s yelp after getting dirt in her eyes. She went to sit crossed legged next to the swing instead of behind it. Dorcas could feel that she was rising to an altitude that was a little shorter than her own height. She was nearing the edge of the river but wasn't worried about it.

4 feet high.

The sun broke through the leaves of the other trees. Dorcas squeezed her eyes together to block it out. It wasn't all that efficient cause when they were closed she could see the vibrant orange color searing into her eyelids. It was just her and the fading sky now.

5 feet high.

Dorcas could see Marlene resting her cheek and the deep shadows caressing her features and the sun searing its golden sheen onto everything from her dirty hair, the wrinkled purple shirt, and the shorts that were now also covered in dirt from sitting on the bare ground. Dorcas wondered if she looked half as good as she fell back to the ground.

6 feet high.

The cool air was nice but the creek threatened her with its seemingly calm presence. At her peak she was exactly above it. It was shallow with many crooked and jagged rockets on the edges. She could see the sun glittering its surface. The water was so clear that she could see all the little pebbles and coins at the bottom.

7 feet high.

“That's my limit.” Dorcas announced as she was having some trouble stopping the darn swing. It kept going back and forth and she couldnt dig her heels enough to stop it. Marlene jumped up and grabbed one of the ropes to steady and halt it.

Dorcas slowly got up. They didn't say anything to each other at first.

“I probably got to go home.” Marlene said, her head hung as if it was a shameful thing to say.

“That's okay.” Dorcas clearly didn't know what to say. “Where do you live?”

“Clairmont Road.”

“Well, that's much too far!”

“Only a mile or two in that way,” She pointed West.

“I know but it's gonna be dark soon.”

“Yeah but my dads gonna want me home to wash the dishes.” Dorcas could have sworn that Marlene would say he’d want her home for dinner but didn’t dwell on it.

“My mum makes good homemade tomato soup. We got fresh tomatoes in our front yard. Grew them ourselves. You wanna come with me?”

Marlene didn't look at her. “Maybe.”

“Up to you,” Dorcas shrugged, she decided it was about time for her to go home as well and started walking North.

Marlene jogged up to her quickly as if it was a natural reflex. “I’ll walk you there.” She said, “Then I’ll go home.”

“Okay,” Dorcas turned her head and smiled as she got one in return.

It was nine in the evening (the longest her mum has let her stay up) when Marlene left to go back to her home. And that was only after a nice bowl of tomato soup and sweet tea that Dorcas’ dad had gotten at the store that day. Marlene made Dorcas promise not to tell her dad that she stayed with them that evening. Dorcas even went ahead and crossed her heart. Her dad seemed not so great or that's what her mum said when she overheard her talking to her dad about it that next morning.

On September first, Dorcas was loaded onto a train with other 11 year olds to go to her new school. Dad told her that he had saved up for it just for her so she could get the best education out there. Dorcas promised that she’d do her very best. She left crying quietly after a kiss from both parents.

The next summer, Dorcas didn’t meet Marlene again. She was hoping to tell her all the new things she learned at boarding school and how she had turned 12 and according to her teacher that means she's a big kid now. Dorcas wanted to tell her about the weird tube thing she looked through on the school's roof in which she was able to see all the way to the Moon and to Saturn.

Two summers after that Dorcas walked by Clairmont Road on her way to her boarding school friend’s house. She could hear screaming from a large black house. One voice was a gruff one that must have belonged to an adult. She also heard a woman shriek. It gave her goosebumps on her arms. The muffled voice of someone smaller was heard after that. She couldn't tell what they said because of the strong lisp they had. When she heard both the woman and the smaller person scream was when she ran out. She swore that she’d never go past Clairmont Road again. It was clearly haunted.

Her friend from school had an annoying older sister. Though Dorcas couldn't blame her. She’d be annoying if her name was Petunia too. Lily on the other hand offered to help with her summer reading homework. Dorcas also got to meet Lily’s friend, Remus, who was quite nice even though he was quiet. She sort of felt bad for making fun of his name now and constantly calling him Wolf-Wolf.

Right before Christmas break in her fourth year Dorcas had her first kiss. It was quite awkward actually. She had no clue why they were standing in the middle of the hallway while having it at each other's lips. While that wasn’t what she wanted from her (hopefully) first romance, it told her what she needed to know. She clearly liked girls. And not always like a friend. She didn't know whether it was just girls or if it was any gender but she thought that when she finds the perfect person she won't need to worry about any of that.

In her fifth year Remus transferred over and somehow became friends with James’ group. James was the guy that had been pining after Lily since second year. Lily constantly talked about how annoying he is but Mary told her that she caught Lily staring at James while he was at football practice. Mary, Emmaline, Remus, Sirius, Peter, and herself all made a bet about when the two would get together. On the other hand Sirius seemed quite taken with Remus who was completely oblivious. It was hilarious sometimes. Who needs the telly when you have dumbass friends like these, right?

The summer before their seventh year reality hit Dorcas so suddenly. Her childhood would be over so soon. She was going to be 18 in December. Luckily the land, that was now filled with wild weeds, behind her house was a wonderful place to scream at the world. She screamed for her childhood friends. She screamed for her parents who were growing older and her brother who just turned seven years old in July. She screamed for no reason at all because there was a pent up force of want in her that she just couldn't name. Like someone's face that she couldn't recall.

James and Lily were caught in the middle of a fiery snogging session behind the greenhouses after the Christmas break. Dorcas owed Emmaline, Peter, and Mary ten dollars that night. They graduated on the 4th of June of 1978. The picture of them all in their blue gowns fit perfectly in her wallet. Mary insisted on piggy-backing on Dorcas for the picture, Dorcas wasn't so sure Mary would ever grow up. She envied her slightly because of that. Lily was resting her head on James’ shoulder. Peter and Emmaline were making finger guns at the camera with plastic sunglasses on the tips of their noses. Sirius and Remus were sitting in front of them, leaning against each other. Remus finally got the hint (kinda) after Sirius kissed him.

Dorcas smiled at the memory as she walked into her first class at the one university she got into. She took her seat in the back next to a blonde girl with hair cut to her shoulders. She was reading a book called Cheating Your Way Through College For Dummies. Dorcas laughed and the girl looked up and removed her sunglasses that were covering up her freckles.

“You saw this?” Dorcas could see that one of her teeth was missing. She hoped it was because she accidentally hit something and something didn't hit her. She thought it was cute though. Her appearance, not the hitting, of course.

“Um, yeah. Sorry about that.” Dorcas responded.

“Don't be,” she smiled. “This is how I got through high school too.” She held up the book and laughed. “I’m Marlene.” Something gleamed in her dark blue eyes as she said her name.

Dorcas smiled slowly. Perhaps she could recall her face.

“I’m Dorcas.”

[ktheist]

twenty-six

chapters:   25 / 26 / 27

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

x

Silver armor encases Taehyung’s body almost as though he was made for it - for war and the blood that is bound to spill when he puts it on.

You would know, you’ve been on the receiving end of the battlefield.

Yet you ask for the same suffering of Goldwald’s people.

Something in the bottom of your belly churns with unrest as your mouth sews itself shut. You’ve been a silent watcher as Taehyung draft out the map of the rich merchant-filled land, marking red dots upon the blueprint of where the soldiers will lay in hiding. Whether they attack or not is solely up to the young King of Goldwald - if he agrees to become part of the Southern Kingdom’s territory, then there was no need to make use of the soldiers. If he so chooses to go to war, then he is bound to lose.

This is the first time Taehyung rides for war ever since you got married - some had expected him to seize what’s left of the lone countries at first light the day after he takes the throne. As what was expected from his tyrannic reputation.

Some, as your sister had belatedly relayed before she left after the ball, had thought the Queen - you - had finally put the savage beast to sleep.

You didn’t know the degrees of truth that holds, but you do know it was you who poured the promise of blood over the beast’s lust.

A peck lands on your forehead, just inches from the jeweled crown that sits atop your prettily made hair. Yerin’s hairstyling skill is like no other - you’ve summoned her back to the palace and she’d obeyed every one of your command without so much as a complaint. It is unclear whether it was a good thing or bad.

“You’ll get wrinkles before you turn 30 with a frown like that,” Taehyung jests, a smile making its way to his handsome features - he does that a lot now, smiling that is, “fret not, I’ve given orders to the men to strike down Goldwald’s army only and spare the weak.”

And he’s become more considerate - for you. Because he notices the troubled lines that appears on your face as the men hustled around the palace with polished sword and shields for preparation of war.

At times you find yourself melting from how warm he felt but most times you step back like what you’re doing now, as though reinforcing the invisible line between you two.

The slightest flash of hurt in his eyes does not go unnoticed by you yet you school a stern expression - the way you usually would in his unwanted presence. Though you aren’t so sure why, even though he’s leaving you alone for at least three months, there’s a heavy weight in pulling on your heartstrings. 

“Thank you, my King.” You lower your head, “you are most considerate. Goldwald’s people are fortunate to be blessed with your kindness.”

When you raise your gaze, his is becoming shrouded with looming clouds. If there weren’t as many footmen and maids lined up from the palace’s doors down to the gate, you’re sure - he would have burst out. Begged you for your reason for being so distant when all he is, is granting your wish.

The young prince you married would have done so regardless of whether there were watching eyes - perhaps it’s true, the beast lying within the King has its claws clipped. He’s beginning to show much more refinement - a telltale of a wise ruler.

Surprise paints your face when he lowers his face to your stomach, a gloved hand caressing the side of your belly - between the ball and the preparation for Goldwald’s seize, you’ve found yourself due any day now.

“I won’t be here when you come into this world,” he murmurs low enough for only you and him to hear, “but I’ll come back as soon as I’ve conquered Goldwald. Don’t make mommy go through so much pain, yes?”

Guilt’s rears its ugly head at his tender voice and the jarring truth to the baby in your belly’s identity. You don’t regret having your child - but as days pass and as Taehyung’s tone begin to sound like a soft lullaby, the fact that you’re lying right to his face doesn’t sit as right with you. Not the way it used to.

He fixes you a smile - one that is so conflicted but at the same time longs to hold you. Yet he does nothing but bow before turning his back on you as he walks towards his horse, the men already in formation.

“Taehyung,” you find yourself calling his name, making him halt, one foot on the stirrup while he cranes his neck towards you.

Before you know it, the clicking of your heels echo into the air. His lifted brows are the last thing you see before your lips press against his. Surprise is still present on his face when you pull away - you couldn’t bring yourself to send him off with a smile. Perhaps it’s the gnawing feeling festering inside the lightless part of your heart, knowing Jungkook is somewhere in one of the towers, on the look out for enemies - possibly witnessing you run towards the man you swore to loathe. Perhaps it’s the brood of war that you’re sending Taehyung off too. But you mean it when you say-

“Come back to me safely.”

x

“My Queen, you shouldn’t be out of bed!” Eunha laments, deep creases of frustration marking the spot between her eyebrows.

Unbeknownst to you, before Taehyung’s departure, he had gathered all the servants and gave orders to be on the look out for their Queen in case she overworks herself - said orders to be effective immediately after he passed through the palace’s gates.

Not even a day later, the servants greet you with wary bows and gazes. As though the baby was going to pop out of you right that instant. 

Eunha, having been with you for almost a year, had been more vocal than the first time you met her - but you supposed it was her own way of caring for her Queen. Even though some may deem it discourteous to speak to a monarch in that manner.

Perhaps, three days ago, you would have believed that she was genuinely one of yours if you hadn’t noticed the numbness in your fingertips and the slightest shade of purple underneath your nails - like that of a dead man’s.

“I was just getting some water from the table,” you simply say, holding the glass of water to your lips while you turn another page of the book Yerin lent you - for some reason she’d taken to standing by the sidelines rather than actively trying to get into your good graces.

It was not a mystery why - what happened that night with Taehyung had embarrassed her greatly yet her family’s status would be ruined if she’d quit being your lady-in-waiting out of the blue. 

Two days ago, you would have let the tendrils of guilt bind around your throat until it was hard to even swallow.

You’d noticed it the morning after Taehyung left. The signs were subtle - you didn’t feel any pain but perhaps that was because of your high tolerance from the many times you’d sustained injuries during practice and on the battlefield.

Still, you’d skipped all meals, piling them underneath your bed, leaving empty plates for them to pick up until Eunha helped you bathe and Yerin helped you into your nightgown and combed your hair like she usually would.

It was something in the way the latter’s brows come together in a mutual uncertainty as she ran the comb through your hair, “your majesty, I hope I’m not overstepping my boundary but...”

“What is it?” Your tone was as cold as the fingers in your lap - perhaps, on days she didn’t hold so much motive to harm you, there would not have been so much animosity directed to her.

“Um - it’s just, you seem awfully quiet today - are you alright?” The mirror reflected every movement of her eyes as they darted away from your heated gaze, towards the corner of the room and finally fixed on your hair.

It could have meant many things. A mouse who got her tail stuck in the trap, being one of it.

But you couldn’t call the guards and have her thrown into prison with just a mere hunch - an assumption.

Eunha was not entirely out spared from it either.

With a sigh, you’d dismissed her with a, “I’m just tired - it’s my first time being pregnant and a Queen.”

As though you did not just snap at her a minute ago, Yerin had chuckled - it was the first time she ever did anything that required lowering the guard around you, apples on her cheeks and all whilst her hand went to cover her mouth, “I see, I can’t fit my foot on either shoes but I shall pray for my Queen’s health and safe labor.”

It had taken you awhile to register her well wishes and another to finally respond, “thank you, Yerin.”

As soon as she was gone, you’d hurried to the window. Torches lined down the pathway towards the garden and a few more scattered across the maze-like bushes. The moon had beamed at you in greeting.

“Jungkook?” You whispered into the night but it was another man who’d stepped out from the shadows.

“Not tonight - Jungkook has errands to run.” Yoongi informed, eyes as unfazed as ever.

By ‘errands’ he’d mean going to the bars and pubs - that was where rumors, regardless whether true or not, spread like wildfire. Jungkook had been your ghost - your eyes and ears.

“Come inside - we’re going to pay the physician a visit.” You left the window half-agape and disappeared into your closet where the cloak you’d used time and time again to sneak out, was lying in the corner underneath your ground-swept ballgowns.

There wasn’t so much as a thud to signal his entrance but you’d instructed him to bunch up the cloth that you’d piled your lunch and dinner over under your bed regardless. When you’d stepped out of the closet, dark cloak hanging around your body - you didn’t think it’d cover your stomach but it did - Yoongi already had one hand clenched around the cloth.

You’d use the servant’s passage to avoid the guards -  anyone who could have been planted here to keep an eye on what you’ve been up to, make sure you weren’t going far and beyond what they wanted and if you did they’d-

“Poison, your majesty.” The physician had been a man in his 60′s with graying hair and beard and moon spectacles sitting atop his bulbous nose. He’d stood in front of you with a darkened expression in a worn out green robe he’d hastily thrown on after being woken up from his deep slumber, “the way the tip of your fingers were blue and dark veins begin to appear over your stomach - I’m sure it’s because you’ve consumed the extract of the bloodflower.”

The rapid thrumming of your heart had spread throughout your body yet your voice had been startlingly calm as you’d gently rubbed the skin stretched over your stomach, just above the spot where you’d felt the kick of another life from within - perhaps it was the knowledge that your child was still alive that had grounded you, prevented you from ordering an execution of whom you did not want to think about.

“And my child?”

“I cannot say for certain,” he shook his head, “it is difficult to ascertain the amount from the food you’d brought as it’d been mixed together - I will send my apprentice-”

“No,” you speak over him, voice as sharp as the two swords hung over the wall just above the headboard in your chamber, “speak of this to no one. I will send you one of my ghosts - he’ll assist you in getting whatever you need to do to get the antidote. For now, whoever orchestrated this thinks we don’t know so they will be unprepared.”

You’d stood up from the chair, forcing your wobbling knees to hold you up even though all you want is to crawl into your bed and bury yourself under layers of blanket as though it would protect you from the spiteful hands of those who wanted to harm you and your child.

But it was the unsettlingly warm desire of Taehyung’s arms wrapping around you that made you clear you hold your chin higher as inner protest.

The physician lowered his head as he cede before speaking again, “one more thing, your majesty, if I may be so bold, I would advice against straining yourself working given the circumstances and until I’ve made a concoction of the antidote.”

“That’s reasonable,” you say after a moment of pondering - the physician’s crestfallen expression being caused by your next words, not going unnoticed but neither do you plan to change it, “but I can’t simply put matters of segregating resources to cities on hold whenever I want to.”

“You could have rang and I’d come and get it for you.” Eunha’s huff tears you away from your recollection. Hands planted on both sides of her hips, she’s a remark away from bursting into a nag.

“Alright,” you shut the book gently, but not before marking the page you’re on, “will you help me prepare for the day, Eunha?”

Despite her drawn brows and conflicted pout, she relents a heartbeat later, “as you wish, your majesty.”

Eunha helps you bathe and change into a teal dress that arrived from one of the boutiques from the capital. Except where you would accept her hand in assisting you to walk, you hold yours out to Yerin. The woman stares at you as though you’ve grown another head for the longest moment before dropping her own in a courtesy, “your majesty.”

Smiling, you hook your arm around hers when she offers it, noticing Eunha’s darkening expression before you begin to tread towards your office. The whole time, she trails behind you and Yerin like a maid would had it been within your own castle in the Northern Kingdom. Had your rise not been so opposed by the aristocrats and ministers that you were forced to find alliance in someone whose status was on the other side of the sphere compared to yours.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Commission - Harry Hook x Mals Sister!Reader - Part 1 -meet cute

(a/n: for anyone curious, in this, you are 4ft 10, and 14 for this to be appropriate, cuz commissioner said, small and has no female curves for her age, soooo 14 and 4 ft 10, not saying that’s bad, just that’s what im putting! Love your beautiful self)

commissioner @musicarose​

=

You plopped in front of your cracked old vanity, sniffing and rubbing your face as you grabbed your brush, wincing as you brushed through it.

You sighed, releasing the brush, glaring as it hung midair, refusing to release your hair (hey that rhymed!). you let out a muffled scream into your hands, cursing your mother for somehow giving you the thick locks you had somehow.

Then again it might have been your dad's genes, but his hair was made of fire so THAT didn’t make sense. You had asked him about it a while ago (you adamantly bugged him until he gave into being your dad, though you still kept it a secret at the request of mal) and he had said his wife had liked you and messed with your DNA a bit to match hers soooo

You were the daughter of Maleficent and Hades, while ALSO being claimed by Persephone!

What a family tree you had.

Anyway, you wrangled the brush out and got dressed, shrugging on your denim jacket with painted green and purple flames licking up the bottom.

“(Y/N)!! COME ON!!!” you groaned, yelling back at your sister

“WOULD YOU CHILL, IM ALMOST DONE!” you heard Mal snarl in response, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“little brat” you muttered, tossing your untamable hair into a beanie and shoving on your boots. A loud *caw* sounded from behind you, you sighed, tilting your head and letting Dival perch on your shoulder.

Somehow you had gotten the demon bird to like but, you didn’t complain, meant he wouldn’t snitch on you to mom.

As you descended the stairs from your room, mal stood at the bottom, arms crossed and glaring at you. “I still don’t understand why you like that demon thing” she muttered, flinching as dival lunged at her.

“(Y/n)~ my little frighting~” your mother called, laying on her throne and waving her hand at you. “come here~” you obeyed and crossed the kitchen over to her. Dival hopping off your shoulder and onto her hand, scooting onto her shoulder and squawking at Mal.

“now~ I need you to do something for me today~” you hummed, sitting down at the kitchen table and leaning your face into your hand.

As your mother prattled on, Mal had snuck away, meeting Evie, Jay, and Carlos outside. You sighed, zoning out, you wished you had friends like hers.

But you had no one but the “demon” bird and your art, you were the lonely daughter of maleficent.

The “weird” one, the one with a stick for a body (which you didn’t mind, it helped you get into and out of tight spots), the quiet one, the one who just stayed in the shadows.

A Prime target for those who wished to get a leg up, like the granddaughters of Yzma, who had made it their life's mission to torment you.

This is why it sucked that your mother was having you go to Yzmas to retrieve a “potion” which was obviously just hair and skincare products.

Well…you sighed, pocketing your switchblade and waving goodbye to your mother, Dival following after you (he was oddly protective) as you open the doors to bargain Castle and made your way to Yzmas shop.

=

You grunted as yalzas sharp ugly acrylic nails scratched your neck and she ripped your beanie off. “why do you always wear this raggedy old thing?” she said in her pitchy nasally voice.

You glared, dival lunging at her, making her squeal in fright and drop it, you scooped it up and shoved it back on your head, collecting the bag of “potions” from Yzma and walking out.

Though it didn’t stop the two girls from following you out and making fun of your body.

“how do you ever expect a boy to notice you with a body like that!?” “you don’t even have boobs!! Your 14 and you haven’t even grown anything!?!”

They let out high pitched cackles, you kept walking, forcing the burning tears down.

“is tha’ any way ta speak ta a lady~” you whipped around, a tall boy with a long red coat now stood in front of you, his wide torso blocking the view of the sisters.

“uh-ho-hook! Nice to see EEH!” the boy swiped at them with a large silver hook. He growled, sending shivers down your spine.

“bea’t it” the sisters squealed, turning tail and running back to Yzmas. He stood tall and turned to you, your breath hitched.

Clear ocean blue eyes stared down at you, lined with dark coal and mischief “now” he purred, lifting his left hand and letting the hook brush against your jaw.

“what do we hav’ ‘ere, a lost little bird~?” you jumped as Dival nipped at his hand, the boy flinched back, staring at Dival oddly.

“I know tha’ bird” he muttered, pointing at him “tha’s Maleficent devil crow, how’d ye…yer Mals sister aren’t yeh?” he ended, an odd twinkle in his eye.

You sighed, nodding “yeah, that would be me” you did a little pose, arms out wide and doing a little bow “(y/n),  second daughter of Maleficent”

The boy chucked, bowing back “Harry, son of Hook” you smiled, shaking your head slightly, he was very handsome for the son of that bulbous nosed man.

“It was…nice meeting you?” you laughed, backing up slowly, remembering the “potions” in your bag. “but I have to get back to my mother”

Harry stepped forward, smirking down at you “let me walk yeh”

You paused, looking as Dival, who shrugged “well…alright,” Harry's smirk turned to a dashing grin, holding out his arm for you to take and leading you back to the castle.

As you pulled away from him when you arrived, you turned, giving a shy smile and nod. “uh…thanks, Harry” he chuckled and took off his feathered pirate hat, holding it to his chest and bowing

“It was my pleasure lassie” he stood straight, fitting his hat back on and walking off. You stood there for another minute, dival watching with you as Harry walked away.

A slight smile built on your lips, heat rushing to your cheeks. “what a charming pirate” you muttered, turning into the door and closing it behind you.

--end of part 1--

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@queer-cosette​

@sephiralorange​

@daughter-of-pan12​

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@lunanight2012​

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #31

Borderlands - #31 - Experiment

*

“Athena?”

Athena turned to face Janey. Janey had a nervous look on her face, playing with a dirty rag in her hands.

“You’re going to go, aren’t you?” she said.

“I know you don’t want me to,” Athena said, and looked down at the weapons she’d been digging through. “But it’s…”

“Like on Elpis,” Janey said softly. 

“The Eridium. Jack’s experimenting on people, and it’s mutating them like it mutated the Lost Legion soldiers. I don’t know what he’s trying to accomplish by having them attack bandit camps, but that was the fifth they’d destroyed. I need to go see what he’s up to. He can’t keep doing this,” Athena said.

“Let me go with you,” Janey said, tightening her hold on the rag. “You know I can hold my own in a fight. You shouldn’t go alone.”

“Janey, it’s too dangerous,” Athena said sharply.

“If it’s too dangerous to bring me, then it’s too dangerous for you to go,” Janey shot back. “I won’t lose you to Jack. Either I come as your backup, or...or…”

She’d intended to say that she’d lock the door the second Athena stepped out it and they would be done. But she couldn’t force the words out. 

She was angry and worried. But not enough to push Athena away over it. She knew Athena had seen a lot of horrible things under Jack’s employ. She knew this wasn’t easy.

Athena closed her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening them. “Fine. But you stay back. And if things get bad, you run.”

“Only if you’re beside me,” Janey said.

Athena didn’t want to fight. She was too tired. Too worried about what Jack had planned. 

“Let’s head out,” Athena said, picking her weapons and allowing Janey to help herself. She put a hand on Janey’s shoulder. “Thank you, Janey.” 

They gathered weapons and left for the fast travel station. They took it to the area that Jack’s experiments had been attacking in.

Athena had caught word after the second attack. The description of the attackers fit those of the mutated Lost Legion soldiers, only there were loader bots and Hyperion personnel among them. There were even rumors that Handsome Jack himself had led the attacks, though Athena didn’t believe that part of it. 

If Jack was using innocent people to try and test how powerful Eridium could be on a human, she needed to put a stop to it. All he was doing was torturing them and turning them into monsters.

So she and Janey set out in a vehicle, heading for the bandit camp Athena suspected would be attacked next. Jack seemed to be attacking in the same general area, probably just as a test before he moved on to bigger targets. It was best if Athena stopped him now, before this got too chaotic. 

Likely, he was taking prisoners from the camps he attacked so he could experiment on them. Jack didn’t see bandits as people, after all. 

She and Janey stopped just a little ways away from the camp, and Athena led Janey along until they were on a good perch to observe from. There were several spots Jack’s forces could sneak in to attack from, but the perch they were at gave them a fairly good view so they’d be able to react quickly.

“What do you plan to do if he really is experimenting on people with Eridium?” Janey asked.

“Stop him,” Athena said. “Kill all of his forces. Put them out of their misery. Find out where he’s doing this to them and destroy it. And if it’s too big a task for me, I’ll pass the information along to the Crimson Raiders. They’ve been gaining power recently.”

Janey just seemed relieved that Athena didn’t plan to take this on alone if it was too big. In the past, she would’ve. But she didn’t want to keep worrying Janey, and she certainly didn’t want to start a war with Handsome Jack. 

“There,” Janey said, voice sharp as she pointed.

Athena followed her gaze until she spotted the shadows moving along the rocky outcropping that bordered the side of the bandit camp. People were approaching. A fair amount, judging by the shadows.

“Stay back,” Athena warned Janey.

She crept forward and watched as Jack’s people surged out, as if they’d been released. Judging by the wounds on their wrists, she was guessing they’d been shackled to keep them under control on the way here.

But she knew what she saw.

The purple veins, the frenzied movements, the horrific mutations. They’d been exposed to heavy amounts of Eridium.

“Jack,” Athena growled.

How could he? After everything they’d seen on Elpis, how the hell could even Jack do something this horrible?

She’d put these people down. If she could find one who was still able to speak coherently, she’d question them. But they needed to be put down. They were barely even human anymore, and likely in excruciating pain.

They were falling on the inhabitants of the bandit camp with an alarming frenzy, killing without hesitation or remorse. Athena gripped her Aspis and charged into battle. 

She was used to dealing with these enemies from the days on Elpis, and took some down quickly, before the rest noticed her presence. The bandits were fighting back now, tearing the attention of the Hyperion forces away from Athena.

She saw a flash of yellow, and raised her shield just in time to absorb a shot from a very familiar figure. She narrowed her eyes as she lowered the shield.

“A body double?” she guessed as she looked at the masked face of Handsome Jack. 

“Athena!” Jack’s voice said. 

It didn’t come from the man standing before her, but rather from an ECHO attached to his hip, confirming her guess that he was just a double. Athena pointed her gun at him.

“Easy now,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t kill an old friend, would you?”

It took her a moment to register the words, but her eyes widened a little. “Timothy?”

The double didn’t even react to the name. He kept his gun aimed at her.

She hadn’t even recognized him. He wore Jack’s usual attire, though his sleeves were rolled down all the way and he had black gloves on over both hands. He stared at her with blank eyes.

It took her a moment to realize that the eyes she was seeing weren’t really his. They were part of the mask.

“Jack,” she said, voice even and cold. “You didn’t. Not to him.”

“Those Lost Legion guys were incredibly strong. I figured having an army of them under my control couldn’t hurt. I see my tests caught your attention,” Jack said from the ECHO. “Timothy here had some objections to what I was doing, but he became a lot more agreeable once I gave him a demonstration.”

Athena felt cold. She didn’t hesitate; she flung her shield at Timothy’s legs, catching him off guard. 

He fell to the ground, his gun going off and the shot going wide. Athena darted forward and kicked the gun out of his hand, stomping her foot on his wrist as he attempted to reach for it.

“Oh, for the love of-” Jack let out an irritated sigh. “Timmy, I don’t pay you to get your ass kicked. Show our friend Athena here just how strong I’ve made you.”

Timothy suddenly gave a hard twist of his wrist, catching Athena’s ankle as she stumbled. Something sharp dug into her skin, and she looked down in surprise. 

Claws had torn through the gloves on his hands. 

“Jack, what did you do to him?” she said in horror.

She remembered him the day she left Jack’s employ for good. He’d been scared about what Jack would do to his face. He’d asked Athena if he could go with her. Begged her to take him.

And she’d said no. She’d done it because she knew Jack had put a bomb in his face, knew Jack would kill him. He’d been so young and scared. The money wasn’t worth it anymore, but it was too damn late. 

“Timothy,” she said, trying to yank her leg free. “Timothy, stop! It’s me! It’s Athena!”

“Ah, about that. His mind’s a little hazy nowadays,” Jack said, and he sounded amused at the damage he’d done to his doppelganger. 

A gunshot struck Timothy’s shield, and he released Athena as his head whipped around, a noise almost like a snarl tearing from his lips. Janey stood with her gun aimed at him.

“Timothy?” she said, and her voice shook but her hand was steady. 

Athena didn’t give him a chance to lunge for Janey. Instead, she grabbed her shield and bashed it against his head, sending him sprawling on the ground. She knelt on his chest and ripped the mask off his face.

He looked up at her with a scarred face, a perfect match to Jack’s scar. His good eye was bloodshot and glazed over, part of it stained purple from the Eridium. The veins in his neck were purple, and she suspected she’d find it running along the rest of his body as well. There was a clawed scar on his cheek, as if he’d injured himself with his own mutation.

“Not pretty to look at, but effective,” Jack said, and she hated how casual he sounded about this. “We’ve been exposing him nice and slow. He’s starting to get a little out of control, though. Doesn’t always follow my orders anymore. I’m developing an AI to stick in that pretty head of his. Then as long as we keep his body stable, he’ll be the perfect leader of these troops. Genius, huh?”

“You’re a monster,” Athena said, fury surging through her. This was irreversible. Jack had done this to Timothy knowing damn well it couldn’t be undone. 

“Wanna know a secret?” Jack said, smug. “He begged me not to. Cried the first few times we exposed him. Screamed his head off when we injected him. Oh, you should’ve heard him screaming when his hands started to mutate like that. He almost took half of that good-looking face off in his panic. But he doesn’t scream or beg or cry anymore. He just lets me do it. He’s a good little soldier now. The perfect experiment. Even more once I get that AI in him.” 

“How could you do that to him?” Janey demanded, staring at Timothy with pained eyes. 

“Because he questioned me. ‘Wahhh Jack, what you’re doing is wrong’. He was weak. He tried to release some of the people I was experimenting on. That’s when I decided to try it out on him. I have plenty of surgically altered doubles now. He’d outlived his usefulness in that department,” Jack said, and laughed. “I was surprised the kid actually survived so long. And look at him now! Oh, it’s great. Timmy, kill them, will you?”

“Timothy, don’t,” Athena said, gripping his wrists to pin them down. “Don’t make us hurt you. We don’t want to hurt you.”

But Jack’s experimentation appeared to have destroyed Timothy’s mind. He thrashed like a trapped skag, snarling at Athena and trying to knock her off of himself.

No. No, she knew what Jack was doing.

Jack didn’t think she’d have it in her to hurt Timothy. Not when he’d been turned into this against his will.

But she could show him a mercy Jack wouldn’t give him. She could end this for him.

“I’m sorry, Timothy. You were...a good kid,” she said quietly, pinning his wrist with her knee so she could get a grip on her gun. “We’ll end this and avenge you. I swear it. I’m sorry I left you with him.”

She pressed the gun to his head, and he struggled harder. Still afraid of death, just like he had been back on Elpis.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, pumpkin?” Jack demanded. “I put a lot of work into him. Timmy, get her off!”

He didn’t struggle any harder though. She might’ve imagined it, but she could’ve sworn his struggles had actually died down a little. Like some part of him wanted this. 

“He’s not your experiment, Jack. He is Timothy Lawrence,” Athena said, and was certain she didn’t imagine it this time when his struggles lessened.

She didn’t draw it out the way Jack would. She pulled the trigger, heartbroken and relieved as he fell still beneath her.

“Oh,” Janey said softly, and turned away, wiping an arm across her eyes.

“I am coming for you for what you did to him,” Athena promised Jack, climbing off Timothy. She knelt beside him and took the ECHO from his waist, shooting it and tossing it aside.

“Athena,” Janey whispered.

“Let’s put them all out of their misery. Then we’re going for Jack,” she said.

She hadn’t wanted to start a war with Handsome Jack. But she looked down at Timothy’s partially mutated body, and clenched her fists.

He’d deserved better. Jack had turned him into nothing more than an experiment, taking his humanity away from him, because taking his identity hadn’t been enough. Timothy had tried to save others and instead doomed himself to their fate. 

“Let’s go, Janey. For Timothy,” Athena said.

Janey pulled her shoulders back and gave one last long look at Timothy. He deserved to have them remember what had been done to him, no matter how horrible it was to think about.

“For Timothy,” she agreed, and the two stormed into the battle with renewed determination. 

[nighteyed]

Shine On ~

Let me preface this story with a disclaimer. This is my first ever, Jurdan fanfic. It is by no means perfect. Second, I listen to music and write. If you are an Amity Affliction fan then the title and the contents of this story might not surprise you. I pulled a lot from the lyrics and from their official music video, even throwing in a few scenes from the video. (EXCEPT WHEN YOUNGBLOODS PLAYED AND “FUCK THE REAPER” GOT THROWN ACROSS A SHIRT) 

Fandom: The Folk of the Air 

Pairing: Jude Duarte x Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: Teen (there are descriptions and mentions of abuse)

Written By: forbiddencorvidae | corvids_5

The green door stares me in the face, it’s like a mocking leer, the color for which I share a name. I hate it. I hate this place, but I press forward, grip the handle and turn it. 

It curls and wraps, shrivels all around, the smoke that sinks into my skin, burns across the whites of my eyes and stains them yellow. There is a haze in this room, as I slowly close the door behind me. My eyes landing on the dozen blue ribbon cans on the kitchen table, my bag swaying at my hip. There is a cat mewling in the corner, four kittens suckling and my lips curl in disgust. Curdling, the smoke weaves through my hair, grazes my cheek bones, congeals at the corners of my mouth and then dives deep down my throat and strangles me. 

I turn to my right, a safe hallway that I will escape through, to the safety of my room and a window that I am desperate to throw open and gulp down air that will purify my already rotting lungs. Doc’s hit something sturdy, hard bones and meat and I’m falling forward, downwards, in a spiral of swinging arms, bracing against the wall, trying, trying not to wake him. 

There is a beast in this tunnel, beneath me and I will not escape him. 

I’m flattened, defeated, pinned under a body much bigger than my own. My eyes are filled with obsidian spots that flutter across my vision. My head pulses and splits, spitting images across my eyes, blocked out by the dark specs that blind me. I feel a hand on my throat, claws digging into the sides of my neck, palm hot and pressing. I’m a child hiding in a closet, afraid and weeping. I feel the wisp of a tail, hear a cat mewling and I am weak, undone, I succumb to the torrent and do not brace for the onslaught. Tears are leaking from my eyes as my nose crunches into my face, a fist smashes against my cheek, my head flies into the wall. Adrenaline rockets though me and my mouth salivates, my body begins to shake as my blood free flows and chokes me. It pours from me in rivers. I’m drowning in my spit, tears and blood, I am drowning in life.  

It’s going to be a real shinner, I hear him say. His laughter penetrates and permeates, slithers up my spine and around my neck. My bag is forgotten as I manage to fight my way to my knees and brace the wall, pulling myself from the floor and fumbling towards my bedroom door. It swings open, a rabbithole that I am all too happy to fall within and my bed a welcoming crash against my skin.

*  

It is raining as I watch them. Three girls file from the suburban and march across the lawn to the red front door. The house across the lane is no longer empty, it is now filled with people and Balekin tells me that one of them has horns. 

“General Madoc is to be my personal bodyguard," Balekin pulls at his collar and smirks. He is proud, I hear the bragging undertones in his voice, cool like onyx. "There has been some disturbing mail coming into the office. Some threatening letters and I do not stand by and obey idle threats." Balekin pulls at the cuffs of his suit and presses the palm of his right hand to the crown of my head, my lips sneer at his touch. 

“You can stop sending them, little brother,” Balekin turns and drags his knuckles along the innards of the hallway, his rings scraping against the paint and drywall. “One day you might end up at the bottom of the creek.”

Good, I want to say, but I've learned that with a quick witted tongue you have to learn to hold it. Instead I feel the corners of my lips twitch and I pick at the tips of my fingers, there is glue under my nails.

*

There is a tap against my window that wakes me. My blood has crusted against my skin, and there is a weal under my right eye, it swells and presses into the underside of my eye. My head is still a ringing mess, my body sore and aching as adrenaline has seeped from me. My sheet sticks to the side of my face and I feel the hairs on my face pull and release as I rip myself from my bed. But when I turn to look at the window, I finally see for the first time, everything that he has tried to blackout.

“You have been home for hours and you never opened your window Cardan,” I can hear Jude from behind the sheer black curtain, from behind the single pane glass. “Cardan,” Jude is already pulling open the window, already swinging her leg through it and into my space. I bow my head at her commanding presence, her air as she enters my room, she fills every part of me with molten, down to my toes that threaten to drag me towards her. My neck is a hinge and I have lost all my will to lift my head and look into her eyes, so I close my eyes and I remember the day that she told me the first truth I have ever received. 

*

I’m free, the wind blowing through my hair. I peddle faster and faster, all the while Jude Duarte yells behind me. Her auburn hair is styled up in horns, like some freak, like those stupid stories she reads.

“I HATE YOU CARDAN GREENBRIAR!” She is screaming from behind him, running as fast as her legs will take her. 

“YOU HEAR ME? I HATE YOU! YOU AND YOUR BLACK HEART!”

I can’t help but smile at her words, they warm my blackened heart because no one has ever spoken such truth to me. 

I will reward her by dumping this pink bike in the creek tonight. 

*

“Cardan…” 

I hate the sound of her voice, as it is now, laced with pain and pity as it pulls me from a precious memory. She will never know how much I wish her to be that little girl again, in the street, yelling that she hates me over and over again. I just want to feel alive, with the wind in my hair and her words in my veins. 

She approaches me tentatively, it has been different, since that time. When I took her on this bed that is now stained with my blood. She is soft and full of sweet words, when all I need is her seething and swearing under me, over me, around me, I don’t care so long as she breaks over me, like water against rock, coating me, consuming me.

“Cardan, look at me.”

I see her booted feet from between my legs and I struggle to lift my head. Her hands come into my line of vision as her palms cradle my cheeks, my shoulders flinching at the warm, delicate touch of her skin. Slowly, she helps me, rolls my head on my shoulders until it is fully erect and I am staring up at her.

“Will you kiss me now and make this better?” My words are laced with venom as I say them and they slather against her skin as her fingers drag across my lips. “Kiss me Jude,” I press my tongue against her palm, my eyes never leaving her’s. Her gaze, lighting a fire in my heart as she stares down at me with eyes full of adoration, full of love and my guts twist at the emotion. 

“Stop Jude,” I turn my head to my left, tucking my chin to my shoulder. “Stop staring at me with those eyes that disgust me.”

There is a long pause that billows in the air and nestles itself into my collapsing lungs. I pull in a ragged breath, the insult pains me more than the evidence on my face. 

“I know you are hurting,” Jude whispers.

I want to bury my face in her white tank, but instead I snake my fingers through her belt loops and drag her towards me, pressing the crown of my head into her abdomen. I'm weak, so weak, so tired of this and all I want is to find a better place to live.

“But you are too strong to drown Cardan,” she whispers and it is to the room, to whomever will hear the words, I know they are not words for me. Those words are a prayer, for her alone.

I feel her nails drag across my scalp and they catch on a patch of matted hair and a memory flashes through my mind.

*

“Why do you speak like that?” Jude is sitting next to me by the creek and the sun is setting behind the buildings of the city beyond. “You sound too smart for a thirteen year old, it isn’t...normal.”

I scoff at her word choice and deign not to answer, but she presses and I acquiesce to her persistence. “I read Jude, books of all shapes and sizes. To learn, sharpen my tongue, to save me.” My sable hair ruffling in the warm breeze as I feel her shift next to me. Jude presses her pink lips to my cheek and my brows knit together. Partly at her action and partly because her lips have stoked the ache back into my jaw, my bruise with it’s yellowing center and purple ring ripples as I clench my jaw at her touch. Jude weaves her arm between mine and she pulls me closer towards her, it warms my bones. I feel something growing underneath the surface of my skin and there is no energy within me to deny it. So, I do the one thing that I am good at when it comes to Jude, I destroy it. 

"Why do you wear your hair like that?" My question is blunt and like a club it strikes at her. I can see her discomfort as she shifts and pulls away from me and it is only shadowed by the simmer in her eyes. 

"The Queen of Elfhame wears her hair like this," Jude spits at me, like I should know this, like we hadn’t played High King and Queen when we were ten. In a rare moment, when I found myself in Jude’s room, I saw her tattered copy of “The Queen of Nothing”, it fell from her nightstand, under her bed. I had reached to retrieve it, to place it back safely where she could find it when my fingers found a slip of paper instead.

I hate you Cardan Greenbriar. I hate you Cardan Greenbriar. I hate you Cardan Greenbriar. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Hate. Hate. Hate. You. Cardan Greenbriar. I love you.

"Some fairytale, those aren't real Jude. Grow up." My words leave my mouth like needles and I have aimed them to prick in all the right places. There is nothing better than this. This is what we have. I have a brother who beats me and she has… 

A demon lurks behind the walls of her home, a murderer. 

“There has to be something better than this Cardan. Something worth living for,” Jude traces a finger to the bruise along my jaw and gently presses. Jude is so full of hopes and dreams, so hungry for all the things that people like me cannot have. She is blinding, like the sun shinning through a diamond and splashing against me. Yet, I want to believe her, to feel hope curl along my insides and blossom in my chest. I want to be so full of hope that I am sick of it. I blame the day she cursed me in the street, cursed my black heart even though I know it bleeds for her. 

If she wants a fairytale then one day she will have it and I want to see her shine, be the one to give it.

“One day, Jude, I will take you to Insmire,” I let loose a rare smile and revel in the widening of her eyes. 

*

“Jude,” I let my left leg shoot between hers and I crane my neck upwards so that I can see her, my cheek still firmly against her. Walnut eyes stare down at me and my fingers clench tightly against her hips, she is wearing a hat, it isn’t like her. “Your hair—its not, the horns," my voice is soft, questioning, so unlike my usual tone.

"I'm not twelve anymore Cardan," Jude presses her thumb to my bottom lip, her fingers cupping around my chin, pressing the side of my face firmly against her. "You were right. fairytales aren't real. Insmire, Elfhame, they are not real. No matter how much I wish them to be. No matter how much I wish that this—" She finally lets lose the breath that she has been holding in, since she has seen my face. “I just wish this was easier and if I could, I would break him.” Her words are like razors and I know that there is a truth to them. Jude is fire against me and I know now that I don’t want her to crash against me like water, I want her to scorch me, mark me, taint me. 

We are not children anymore.

We've tasted sweet whiskey, gone skinny dipping in the creek, she has seen her mother killed, her father cut down, I've lived my life on the ground, with bruises and cuts inked into my skin and I've pressed my tongue between her legs and tasted sweet bliss. I've felt her heat around me, pulling me closer to her, wringing from me everything that I am and she has always outlasted me. 

"Jude, go home." I push her away as I rise from the bed I've slept on since I was a child, the bed in which I laid her bare. Her eyes are full of hurt, but I see the curiosity that is stitched along her irises, she doesn't understand why I am doing this. 

"You shouldn't be sneaking into the Governor's house," I say as I ruffle the paperwork on my nightstand. "You aren't a kid anymore. It's breaking and entering," I sigh as I fall back on my bed and slide my fingers under my mattress, the thick envelope greeting the tips. 

"Balekin wouldn’t dare," Jude scoffs.

"Balekin, hates you, leers at you." I press my forefinger and thumb to the bridge of my nose and squeeze, the pain knitting my eyes closed. "Balekin says many things Jude. There is only abhorrence for your family, your father, deeply seeded and nourished with pale ale." My eyes find her's, there is shock there, truly. What did she expect?

"Do you hate me Cardan?"

Her question would have caught me off guard, if I didn't actually know that it was coming. 

Yes. 

My voice whispers across the blackness of my mind, her eyes like glass, round and waiting.

Make it easy for me, do not stare at me with those fragile eyes.

"Yes," I finally say. "Yes, I hate you. You once cursed my blackened heart, Jude, but it isn't the worm riddled, flea bitten parts of me that hates you. It's the parts that you have ignited and turned to flame."

She steps towards me and leans forward, her lips brushing against the shell of my ear as she whispers. A second later she is gone, out the window and the last light of the day fades with her.

The shower spray hits my skin like heated bullets and I watch as the water bleeds red between my toes. My hair falls into my eyes as I drag my fingers across my nose and press, I hear a faint pop from under the spray and my toes curl. I can breath again, barely. I toss around Jude’s words in my head and a smile creeps across my lips. I turn the shower knob and I’m left standing naked and in the cold. 

I hear Balekin, in the other room, the television is fading in and out as he flips through the channels and I can see him through the drywall, sprawled across the couch, a blue ribbon can, clutched between his bruising fist. My smile pulls into a smug of satisfaction as I know that even though he has beat me, I have left a mark on his unblemished skin. Tomorrow, when he holds his scheduled press conference, he will wear gloves, in the middle of August and I will know that underneath them is the evidence of his abuse. 

I pull a pair of black jeans on and open the bathroom door, then I break for my bedroom, my toes barely touching the wood floor, it feels as if I am flying. I click the door close softly and grab a black hoodie from my closet, pulling it over my head I make my way towards my bed, slipping into my doc martens. I flip the mattress and pull the envelope, the one that I felt earlier and tear it open. I count the bills in quick succession, the envelope now forgotten on the floor as I pocket the money down the front of my jeans. I pull a book from my nightstand and I grab a duffle from underneath my bed. I quickly pack what I may need and I brace myself to enter the hallway and head towards the front room. 

I see the television from the mouth of the hallway and I count the seconds with each breath that I take. A minute goes by and the television channel has not changed, I hear a faint snoring and I exhale. I tip-toe across the room and I find Balekin’s briefcase tucked underneath the table. I feel inside the pockets until my fingers brush along something cold and heavy, my fist wrapping around the keys and I tear them from the bag. I have to tip-toe to the front door and I close it gently. 

In my driveway Jude is waiting for me. Her hair is flowing in the evening breeze and she leaves me breathless with the sight of her. Her auburn hair is rolled up in two horns on her head and I can hear the little girl in the street from all those years ago. Yet, this time she isn’t screaming how much she hates me, she is whispering in my ear that she loves me. She is wearing a black tank top with a saying across the front and it makes me smile, a gut tightening, teeth bared smile and I want to fall into her eyes as they widen at me. Before I know what I am doing, my feet take me to her and I drop my bag at her feet, my hands reaching for the sides of her face and pulling her into my lips. 

She tastes like spun sugar and I worry that if I am not gentle I will break her, that she will wilt in my embrace, but she pulls me closer and hugs me tighter. 

“Lets go,” I say as I pull her towards the passenger side of Balekin’s black mustang.

“Wait, wait,” She whispers into the night around me. “I’m going to drive, you push and when we are down the block, I’ll start her up.”

I smile at her wonderful mind and watch her as she darts across the front of the car and jumps into the driver seat. I hear the car slink into neutral and it rolls slightly down the driveway. Tossing my bag into the back seat, I reach the backend and push, the car rolls and with every second that passes I can taste freedom. It isn't until I hear the engine roar to life and Jude’s laughter from the front seat, that  I finally run towards the passenger side and jump in. 

Jude hits the gas and the wind pulls at my hair and I do the one thing that I had promised myself that I would never do. I turn and look back at the house that will probably forever haunt my dreams. I smile and raise my fists to that green front door and I flip it off, a howl of laughter escaping my lungs and it feels so good to finally breathe. Without hesitation, without the worry that I would wake a sleeping beast. 

Jude is to my left and there is a smile on her lips and I thank every star in the sky. Her hand weaves towards mine  and I link my knuckles to hers and squeeze, bringing the back of her hand to my mouth. I kiss her flesh with vehemence and press my nose to her pulse. 

I reach for the stereo, flip it on and as we drive through the night, under the shining stars, Jude sings.

"Shine on, shine on young love." 

And I lean towards her and whisper in her ear. "Thank you, for saving me."

[introvert-no-chameleon]

A Familiar Face

Did y’all really think I wouldn’t at least write some Portal Pines AU? In my Tumblr? Haha. I wrote this in like three days between work, so hopefully, there aren’t too many glaring typos. 

I like how this short fic came out, so I hope y’all enjoy it. Many thanks to @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat for providing a Portal Mabel design that helped me get an idea of how she’d look as an adult being stuck between dimensions. 

Update 8/20/20: Fixed some typos and cleaned it up a little.

*

As Ford Pines scrambled through the busy streets of the marketplace, he found himself wondering how in the multiverse Bill managed to hire so many bounty hunters at the rate that he did. Currently, he had a humanoid, multi-armed, incredibly strong pursuer hot on his trail, effortlessly knocking civilians and objects out of her way. Yesterday, it had been a set of siblings from a race of lizard creatures that breathed fire and were capable of climbing walls. Assuming he would survive this encounter, he imagined tomorrow’s hunters would be equally, if not more, challenging to deal with. (He could still feel the raw skin on his shoulder rub against his bandages as he ran, a souvenir from the aforementioned lizardfolk).

Usually, in these circumstances, Ford wouId activate his interdimensional translator and escape, but it took time he currently did not have. That, and he still had business in this dimension, materials he needed to collect some material for the Quantum Destabilizer that he wasn’t sure he could find elsewhere. There would be no telling where he would end up next, and that was a risk he couldn’t afford taking right now. 

In a last-ditch attempt, Ford slid into the nearest alleyway, ducking in between some large baskets that smelled vaguely of a mix of oranges and limes (a hybrid of Earth citruses, perhaps?) and stayed, hunched over in the shadows.

A moment later, he felt the cold press of a blaster on the back of his neck. He lifted his hands up, dropping his own gun. It clattered on the concrete.

“Finally got you. I gotta hand it to you, Stanford Pines. You are very difficult to catch.” He didn’t have to see the bounty hunter behind him to know that she was smirking at him.

“Whatever Bill offered you,” he said, “I assure you, it will not be worth making a deal with him.”

She shoved him to his knees, then pushed him on his stomach with her boot. Three of her four arms held him down, shoving his cheek against the grimy floor. “Maybe not for you, human.”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give himself more time to try and find a way out, when he saw a small, circular object bounce towards him and landed inches away from his face. Upon closer inspection, it was a bright pink orb with a red blinking light.

A bomb.

Fuck.

The bounty hunter thought the same, because she yelped, releasing Ford and jumping back just as it went off. To his surprise, he had not blown to bits. He was, however, engulfed in a glittery pink puff of smoke. Tiny bits of glitter coating his throat.  He coughed out the glimmering purple particles.

What in the multiverse?

The bounty hunter screamed behind him. She began cursing in her native tongue, a language he, unfortunately, hadn’t studied (yet) so he couldn’t make out what she was saying, aside from the fact that she was very upset. He ducked his head when he heard her firing off her weapon.

He heard another pair of boots hit the ground followed by an enthusiastic whoop!, the bounty hunter grunt, a body smacking against a nearby dumpster, then silence.

A hand pulled him to his feet. He whirled around, fists raised, ready to deal with yet another creature after the bounty on his head, but instead was shocked to find another human face staring at him.

The woman was at least in her mid-forties, judging by the wrinkles around her mouth. Short, curly brown hair surrounded her face. Her eyes were concealed by goggles much like his, yet he could feel her staring right at him, her unwavering attention all directed at Ford. She grinned at him, apparently unperturbed by the fact that she had just gotten shot at by one of the most notorious bounty hunters in the multiverse. If anything, she seemed to be buzzing with excitement.

“Hope I didn’t startle you too hard,” She gave him his gun. “Oh, and don’t worry, the glitter is edible. It’s just for show.”

He snatched it away before she could try and use it against him. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The stranger seemed unbothered by his harsh tone. Thin eyebrows shot up over her goggles. “It’s impolite not to introduce yourself before asking somebody’s name. Especially when that someone just saved your ass.”

He glared at her. Something about her attitude felt very familiar, and not in a way that comforted him. “I have wanted posters all over this city, I doubt you don’t already know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So do I, but you don’t know my name.”

He began glancing around the alley. They were alone, for now, but he knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. “There’s no time for this. I have to catch the next spaceship out of here…”

“…To get away from the bounty hunters Bill Cipher sent after you?”

He stiffened. In a smooth gesture, he pointed his gun at her face. “Are you with him?”

She furrowed her brows, more indignant than alarmed, mouth pressed into a tight frown. She raised her hands so that he could see her empty palms. “No, I’m trying to stop him!”

“Show me your eyes!” His grip on the gun tightened, the leather gloves creaking.

“Oh! Right, right,” she said. She began moving her scarf down along with her eyewear.

A pair of brown eyes looked at him expectantly. She had rather round cheeks and Ford wasn’t sure if it was the face, or the twinkle of mischief in her eyes, but he felt a wave of deja-vu, crash into him like a freight train. Ford had to shake his head, partially to ground himself, but also to remind himself that he had no time to be thinking about him.

“Can you point your gun away now? I already proved that the two-dimensional monster isn’t with me.”

He lowered his weapon, caught by surprise at the sudden iciness of her tone, and even more so at the way she talked about Bill.

“What do you know about Bill Cipher?”

“Way too much.” She didn’t even appear to be afraid. If anything, there was a fiery determination in her gaze, one that promised a vengeance fueled by years and years of resentment that he recognized wholeheartedly. “I helped you because I heard that lady mention that triangle jerk.” She jutted her thumb at the unconscious bounty hunter, who had a large, red boot-shaped mark on her cheek. “I haven’t met anybody who’s lasted as long against Bill as I have, so I wanted to see if it was true for myself.”

“Huh,” he said. 

Ever since he’d arrived in the multi-verse, even those who despised the demon were too afraid to even mention his name, let alone try and go against him. Yet this woman had just admitted, to a complete stranger, that she was working against him.

“You’re also being hunted by Bill?”

“Yup!” The cold fury melted away so quickly Ford almost though he’d imagined it. She was back to her chipper attitude as if they weren’t currently in the middle of a dangerous situation. “I’ve been hopping the multiverse trying to find a way to stop him for years. I thought I was the only one, too…”

A large group of people were yelling a few alleys away. Cursing himself for allowing himself to be so distracted, he holstered his weapon. “We’ve been here too long.”

“Yup, and that’s ship leaving,” she said, holding up a strange, flat watch with some numbers blinking over an image of a cartoonish pink cat. “We’d better catch it!”

Ford scowled. “We? I haven’t agreed to anything—”

She rolled her eyes as if Ford was the one being difficult in this situation. “Uh, I just met somebody who can help me out, I’m not just gonna not take that kind of an opportunity.”

“I travel alone. I assure you, whatever your situation is with Bill, it will only get worse if you follow me.”

“All I’m hearing is, ‘I’m a sad, lonely grumpyass who needs a friend, I’d be happy to have somebody like you tag along, Mabel.’ That’s my name, by the way, since you didn’t ask.”

The footsteps got closer, and Ford let out an exasperated grunt. “We won’t be able to catch the ship in time. We’ll need to lay low for now and wait for the next one.” He glanced at her long skirt. “That attire is unsuited for running. I would cut the skirt in order to escape more efficiently.”

Mabel smirked as if glad he’d finally brought up her clothing preferences. “This isn’t just a fashionable skirt, silly. It’s also a special cowl I made myself. Watch and learn.”

He was about to argue that while he himself had never followed fashion trends, he doubted that was in style in any universe, but was interrupted by her untying the long cloth from her waist, revealing more exercise-appropriate long pants. With a theatrical flourish, she put the cloth over her head and vanished in thin air.

Ford gaped at the spot where she’d stood, scanning the area to see if perhaps she’d teleported around him, but there was no sign of her. Then he felt a finger bop the tip of his nose, and he jerked back, instinctively reaching for his weapon.

“Relax, jumpy, it’s still me. I’m invisible! Neat trick, Eh?”

Her voice was inches from his face. He felt her wrap an arm around his waist, and just as he was about to protest and say that he did not appreciate physical contact, especially not from a stranger, he heard her shift next to him.

��Grappling hook!” Her voice boomed with boundless enthusiasm. He wondered how someone who had just gotten into a fight and supposedly followed his enemy on foot for at least a few miles could still manage to be so energetic.

He wasn’t able to wonder for long. Ford only had time to see the string of a grappling hook connect with an aircraft overhead before he was lifted into the air with a startled yelp. Had the woman not kept a strong grip on his side, he surely would’ve fallen. As it was, he was able to peer downwards and see the search party that had came after him continue down the streets, clueless to his presence overhead.

The wind whipped at his hair and clothes, as well as his companion’s. Her hood had fallen away, revealing her grin as she kept her gaze upwards, towards the ship they were latched onto. “I’m going to pull us up, so hold on!”

They came flying towards the ship at an alarming speed. He braced himself, tensing his body. For a moment, after the hook finished retracting, he thought they would fall for sure. But just as quickly, Mabel grabbed the edge of the latch that had begun to close with the ship’s ascent.

He also held on to it for dear life. With a grunt, he pulled himself over the edge, slipping inside.

Mabel managed to get in just as the hatch closed, engulfing them in darkness.

He rummaged his pocket for the orb he was looking for, shook it, and let if hover over him, illuminating his surroundings. Ford allowed himself to catch his breath now that he was finally aboard the ship. He’d spent a good hour running, and he hadn’t been able to catch a break until this point.

Mabel sat down with a deep sigh, wiping her brow. “That was close.”

“Indeed,” he said. He cleared his throat. “It seems I owe you a thanks.”

She waved it off. “Don’t mention it. Bill’s gonna be pissed, and that’s all the thanks I need.”

“That’s an…admirable, if not foolish mindset to have, but I share the sentiment.”

She raised her eyebrows, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “But, you could tell me your name, at least. I have to call you something.”

I was Ford’s turn to raise his eyebrow. A part of him said that he shouldn’t risk speaking to this stranger, but something else, perhaps his instincts, told him he could trust her. At the very least, he saw the benefit of an ally that was capable of fending for themselves, and one that had a common goal.

“…Stanford.” He made to extend his hand so that she could shake it, but hesitated. He hadn’t seen another, non-hostile human in years. He was aware how people felt about his six fingers, and while he still wasn’t sure how he felt about this woman, he also didn’t want to risk spooking off a potential ally, assuming she was truthful about her intentions.

Apparently, he needed have worried. She gripped his hand and gave it a firm shake of her own (the woman had quite the grip). When she did look down at his hand, she didn’t skip a beat when she said: “Whoa, a six-finger handshake? It’s a full finger friendlier than normal.”

He sat there, stunned, as she pulled away and settled against a storage bin. “So, Stanford. Wanna trade cool outlaw stories while we wait to get to the next planet?” Her tone remained as light and casual as it’d been the entire time, as if Ford was an acquaintance she was taking the time to catch up with.

He laughed, something he hadn’t done in months. Mabel didn’t care. She didn’t say anything about him being a freak, despite clearly being from some version of Earth. She held no trace of malicious intent towards him at all.

Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.