#now i get to yell about them to ava and one of our many tag lines were created aka bless the priscila's

[mayasdeluca]

Highlights of 2023 → Valentina and Luiza

[chaoticcutiewhirl]

New Intro 3.0

We have been putting this off for a long while now but now its time to do this, and simply to say, we are a plural system that uses the collective name of "The Whirl Production House", Ava, or Whirl, and if you know us you know there is a tendency for us to be quite nerdy or atleast a collection of dorks obessed with more artistic endeavors. If you want to find us elsewhere here is our linktree:

Also before you look, to note is that we do have commissions, and before the link tree here is the comms sheet and feel free to message me if you want to possible support a disabled Transwoman

And beyond this it should be noted we are mostly a grouping of differing levels of otherkin sort of deals ranging between those of us who are fictives to those who are kins with very little shifting beyond that if at all. Mentioning that we should probably shift into introductions of individual members of our collective. I will say individual members because we are more so at the multiple end of the plural spectrum of things where its kinda easy to tell there are several of us up here, without bleed-through unless we are feeling blendy/foggy on who is fronting.

Also something to note, we gernally do not fall into Plural related labels and are still early in the processes of System stuff even though its been a few months since syscovery. Part of the reason is because the only ones of us that care about assigning labels feel we do not know enough to label everything, only using labels we do have an idea of working as apart of our system. Will those labels be disclosed? Not in this post atleast.

A Quick Rundown

We are the Whirl Production House system or Whirlproductions, a system to which is still figuring shit out who has an open mind to things so to get syscourse out of the way we are Pro Endo. I will say I am not afraid of blocking people as we generally do not care what you think but if you are annoying there is a way to make you shut up on our feed or notifs. Beyond that we generally face things with caution and are still learning about many things, we have a few ideas on who is what kind of roles but I will not share them and for origins I will say its either unknown or a mixture of several probably, with stress being a detriment at times and is part of the reason why we are not out publically about the Trans stuff alone IRL. We stress easily and have chronic illness (Some form of lung related thing as well as Fatigue) so if we are slow on the uptick please keep that in mind.

Headmates

Sylvia

Art by @/BunBunTushie on Twitter

Name: Sylvia S. / Sylvia Drake

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Demisexual-Lesbian

Kins: Mojave Sidewinder Rattlesnake, Sylvia Drake [Mice Tea]

Noting about Kins for Sylvia is that both are practically just who she is, as there are very few shifts out and when there is, it usually during hours of blurriness or questioning that leads to her questioning more of who she is, but being Sylvia Drake is basically the summary of her being

Age: Early to Mid-20s (Bodily we are 20 tho)

Likes: Writing, Looking at pretty art, doing research, music, Science Fiction (There is a lot), Westerns, TTRPGs, and Entertaining others

Dislikes: All Medical situations, Stress, People our body is related too by blood for the most part, Getting Yelled at, How the US Schooling system is set up

Tag: 🐍 Sylvia

Lucinda

Art by @observerkaine (Found you >:3)

Name: Lucinda

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins: Desert Hare, maybe Burnice White (ZZZ)

Age: Early 20s (Most coincides with the body's Age)

Likes: Art, Talking, Silly demeanors, Comedy, and Color theory

Dislikes: Loud noises, too many things to do, Time, and those who domineer a situation without consideration for others whether its through emotional or physical means, Awkward silence

Tag: 🌵Lucinda

Rowan

Art by @guacheenim (Oh Hey you are on here, hiya again.)

Name: Rowan

Pronouns: She/They/Xe

Sexuality: Asexual

Kins: Spider (Unspecified), Drider/Rachnae-like creatures

Age: Range of around the 30s

Likes: Quietness, Reading, Baking, Solitude, Safety and relaxation for all of us

Dislikes: Percieved threats, Stressors, People getting hurt, feeling useless

Tag: 🕸���Rowan

Kade

Art by @/D3monicY33n on Twitter

Name: Kade

Pronouns: He/She/They (Genderfluid)

Sexuality: Likes men and sometimes butch women

Kins: Carpet Shark

Age: Early 20s (Unconfirmed but lines up most with Lucinda in matching the Body

Likes: Being flamboyant, Piercings, Punk Subculture related music, 18+ stuff is especially tied to them

Dislikes: Feeling restricted, Fronting (Could be related to the first part),

Tag: 🦈Kade

Avarstia

Art by us... (May be replaced by digital art at some point tho lol)

Name: Avarstia Furhenbrook

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins*: Not actually a kin, she is a fictive of an OC we have of the same name and is legitimately said character and has helped greatly write the books she is involved with. In other words she is a Half-Demon, Goddess of Death, Winter, and Time who just somehow ended up here

Age: Given what is said above would it be surprising to say she is somewhere in her 700s on the mental side

Likes: Reading, Talking, Philosophy, Thought Expirementation, Writing, Observing, Storytelling

Dislikes: TTRPGs (She finds them boring), Menial tasks, Repetition, Staying in a single place for too long, Ideas of immortality or preventing decay,

Tag: 💀Avarstia

Fionn / Yang Xiao Long

Official Render from the Volume 8 episode of RWBY, "Refuge" (Will say there is divergence from canon in how she looks however)

Name: Yang Xiao Long

Aliases: Fionn

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins*: Again as the shift with Avarstia shows, she is again falls under the aspect of being a Fictive in our system, she diverges from canon in the aspect that she is atleast blind in one eye in headspace as well as having a couple of Faunus features being her ears and tail, being a sort of draconic Faunus. Also Dragon Kin

Age: Early to mid 20s (Notably younger than Sylvia when we feel numbers are accurate)

Likes: Engineering, mechanics, learning about weapons and historical combat, comedy, Energetic music (Mostly rock and punk), helping others in any sense really

Dislikes: Feeling powerless, being Frontstuck (Its been almost 800 days by the time of drafting this), Biological family, others feeling bad, being objectified.

Tag: 🐲 Yang / Fionn

🐉 is also sometimes used as apart of her tag

Dendro

Art by Miranda Mundt, within the webtoon "Muted" (Again may update this when we have art on hand that is more to our preference)

Name: Dendrobrium, Dendro

Alias: Delphi

Pronouns: She/It

Sexuality: Demisexual-Lesbian

Kins*: She is again a Fictive of the character of Dendro from the webtoon Muted, with the main change between her appearance there and what is in our headspace being that she is more of a combination of Desert flora

Age: 300s, again like Avarstia she is a bit older but Dendro did mention it is an estimate given the time difference between Trea and Earth, but will say in source that is not a detail stated.

Likes: Plants, Gardening, Staying Healthy, existing beyond the confines of the place we live, being around people, learning

Dislikes: The body's Chronic Illness, the Desert Heat, and generally the urban areas of Arizona being the way they are.

Tag: 🌸 Dendro

Ceroba Ketsukane

Art by us but will note you can find Ceroba when she uses Tumblr on @kitsunetragedy

Name: Ceroba Ketsukane

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bi with a femme lean

Kins*: Again she is basically just a fictive of Ceroba from Undertale Yellow, with the only difference being that she has two tails

Age: Older than Rowan, younger by far than Dendro, Monsters age slower than humans just an exact age is not really set mentally but she is older.

Likes: Thrillers and Romance, Art of her source, Cuddlable things, Older music (50s-70s), Calm and quiet situations

Dislikes: Abrasive clothing, People who are quite rude, Failure

Tag: 🦊Ceroba

Note: Ceroba does not front much and is at moment of writing the newest member of our system so this will likely be updated at some point

Members who will not be given great detail

This section is mainly here because of system members who have either been identified or appeared once and haven't been active at really all and we do not know if they are apart of our system still or if their existence is confirmed outside of small blips:

Duana - Moth monstergirl who kinda was the main one angry at everything and was the host for a bit before Sylvia and Lucinda took the reigns, was noted as a member pre-syscovery by those who knew the system was a thing sort of passively back then and she hasn't reappeared in a long time.

Aria - Robot girl who appeared once for like half a day before disappearing into the ether of our brain, do not know if she was a fragment with more of a sense of self or if she is a headmate but she is logged on our SimplyPlural

Clémente Dearworth - Yaelokre Fictive, who appeared in our system very recently and is a middle

Nicole Demara - ZZZ Fictive, who also appeared in our system very recently. And is active, this may get updated again to add her to the main list of things. 🩷

??? - A third pressence of recent editions is known but is unknown.

Questioning on if they are Kins or Members of our System

Mentzelia Laev (OC), its less so feeling like we get too into the mindset of the character, its generally an aspect closer to Clemmie where I feel there is a potential Kin but its more further back, or maybe being someone who is currently not active in the system. Either way Bug Lady had a specific sense of self that has not changed much and would explain the like autumn we were obsessed with blacksmithing and medieval weapons.

Lethica Nightborne (Legends of Avantris, Edge of Midnight), This one is more of a situation where I do not know but suspect she could potentially be like one my brain has picked up upon in a similar sense to Avarstia, Ceroba, and Dendro, a character who is more of a comforting pressence than similar tracks of trauma.

Vash the Stampede (Trigun), this one I think is or will be a kin, I do not see the aspect of them as a headmate being likely given the difference in thoughts but I feel atleast someone in our system will be a kin of Vash... Just has those vibes.

Falin or Marcille (Dungeon Meshi), Again I feel its more of a kin but its somewhere as it was a moment months ago admist the whole identity crisis of syscovery, that I ended up going on a spree and you can check my Tumblr back in April to see it, we were still figuring things out so I have no clue who it would have been. Either way, I feel it may come back again when Dungeon Meshi season 2 drops given the more laxed nature of it all atm.

Burnice White (Zenless Zone Zero), a new one and is the first documented adition. There has been a back and forth between her being a kin or the budding of a headmate, but either way, one tie to Lucinda.

In other words do not be surprised if we update this post to mention them beyond this section, whether as a offhanded mention of a Kin or as apart of our system full on. This section may be updated or maybe not I will say though.

Other Information

Honestly I do not really know what else to add for y'all to know but if you wish to ask anything I may add tags or whatnot down here to give you all an idea of what we do such as possibly using the same tag we use on Bluesky and Twitter for art being:

#AvarstiaArt - Art posts by us

Beyond factors such as that feel free to send in asks and one of us may respond with an answer or whatnot.

[shinymooncolor]

Hi all!

As usual, I owe all of this to the wonderful world created by @lumosinlove. 🙏🏻

I love Kris so much. Single dad, hockey star is a mood. Apologies in advance. 😇

Enjoy!

Sweater weather chats #2

Kris joins a super secret club. Lily gets emotional. We get introduced to the bat cave. Kris is a cautionary tale for the rookies. Or that’s what Nado days. Kris is also an honorary mom. Celeste reminisces. Kasey, Nado and Kuny babysits. Everybody loves Remus. Ava wants a pony. Natalie has plans. SO MUCH BROMANCE.

—————

Emotional support group and Remus 🤩🥰🏒:

Friday 3.32 pm

NatNat added Kris to the group.

Allison: do I spy a new member? Welcome to the dark side, Kris. The rules are simple - this is a safe space for us to discuss our men, babies and other related topics.

Lucia: also, never tell the boys what happens at brunch. 😁

Celeste: welcome Kris. We thought you’d enjoy coming to brunch with us - Ava is always welcome.

Kris: woah? What is this? Shit. I’m honored. Also Remus? Wtf.

Remus: hi kris yeah I don’t know how I was allowed in, but it’s nice. 😁

NatNat: well Dumo might be the honorary dad but Kris is totally the honorary mom on the team. He wiped Gatorade off of Leo’s face last game. It was adorable 😍😍😍

Kris: well James did unscrew the top as a prank, not actually sure it’s a prank if you do it every game. And Leo didn’t realize. And he’s weird about not taking his blocker off. Had to help the kid out. 😆

Allison: well it made us enroll you in our secret and sacred club. Welcome! 🤩

NatNat: i forgot to send this on Wednesday!! Baby Russian with baby puppies

*kuny puppy pic*

GingerLily: awwww he looks so happy. James said he’s been depressed he cannot train this week. I love this. 😍

Anyaismyname: my baby. I knew him from he was 16. Such a sweet boy.

Kris: sweet? Are we talking about the same Kuny? He taught Ava to cuss a ref and last time the media asked her what she thought of the game and my playing, she parroted that. I had a trending tag for a month after that on Twitter😔

NatNat: I’m not condoning it but it was hilarious. I cried. But seriously he adopted a cat and named her Aya and they send me selfies with her every 7 minutes. They built her a castle in their ridiculous bat cave game room. 😅👑🐱

Remus: the bat cave is awesome. They’ve got pro surround sound and all. And a real slushee machine. 🤖 also kris, coach want you all back on the ice in 10.

NatNat: yeah haha kase is excited to go for halo night. Apparently they’ve got some sort of new VR stuff for practicing as well. 🏒🏒🏒

Celeste: Kris, don’t worry about the curse words. Marc spent three months yelling fuck at everything after Logan accidentally taught him. They get over it quick and the fans love you even more after that - haven’t you been on the most eligible list for your entire career? Also, didn’t Anya tell Kuny’s mom?

Anyaismyname: da, and believe me, Scolding work better in Russian. And I promised her to look out for her boy.

Kris: thanks guys, I know. I was just shocked. She’s my baby and sometimes I just can’t handle how quick she grows... it’s not fair... and yeah, apparently a single dad with a travel heavy job is eligible. Weird.... also - the boys’ game room is amazing and they did set up a my little pony game for her last time on the projector. Be there in three Re!!! 🏃‍♂️

GingerLily: awww I cant believe she was a baby when I first met her. She grows sooo quick! 😍

Kris: well it’s you soon! Good luck - you think you know what love feels like but. Damn, a baby just changes things. ☺️

GingerLily: we’re starting on the nursery next week and I can’t wait. James is hopeless with tools though but we’ve decided on a color theme at least 🥰🥰🥰

Celeste: mmh, that is always a big moment. I remember when I was pregnant with Adele, Pascal was still just settling into the Lions and we’d already moved twice, but something changed when we started working on the nursery. It got real then - he didn’t get the puck theme he wanted but nevertheless, I think that was when he really realized he was about to become a father 😍

NatNat: awwwww, can’t even imagine you two without your babies 😁

Celeste: me neither, honey, me neither. 😉

Friday, 4.38 pm

Kris: Natalie do you think we could find a puppy for Ava? We could house train it during off season and she’s been begging for a puppy for a while and i really want one too and hopefully with a puppy the “I want a pony” phase can be forgotten! :)

NatNat: of course!!! Also shouldn’t you be at training?

Kris: We finished 5 minutes ago. :) also thanks for cheering Kuny up, he was allowed to do stretches today.

NatNat: oh god. Forget the time out here. Is kase done too?

Kris: yeah but he’s currently unavailable. Something about hug a goalie day *pic of kasey and Leo, on the ice under a mountain of players*

GingerLily: 🤦🏽

Celeste: on another note my lovelies. I would love to host brunch next Sunday! We have full attendance - Elsa is visiting from Sweden! :) please let me know how many babies you’re bringing.

Sunday 7.03 am

Kris: hi Celeste. I’m really sorry to do this last minute but ava’s mom has cancelled again and I can’t get a sitter this late. I’d love to come for brunch next time though.

Celeste: oh my dear. Bring her. It’s absolutely no problem.

NatNat: hey kris. Kasey is going to nado and Kuny and he says they’re happy to babysit. Also he wants to know why you and Remus are invited to brunch. Don’t tell him anything. 😉😉😉

Kris: oh I don’t want to be a problem they probably don’t want a 4-year old to disturb their halo game...😬

NatNat: it’s not a problem at all :) (also need kase to practice - not getting any younger here 😏🤩)

Kris: well if it’s really no problem I know Ava would love to spend time with them. :) also totally rooting for baby blizzards soon!

———-

Blizzard created a new group: Babysitting

Blizzard added RussianGod, Nadotheman and KrisVolley

Blizzard: hey guys. Quick change of plans. Ava is hanging out with us today. Kris is going to brunch with the girls?! Said we’d be happy to spoil baby munchkin and teach her more Russian curse words

RussianGod: ok. Can we eat cookie? Also no bad words. Don’t want more yelling from Anya. She scary.

Blizzard: season diet Kuny. Oreos are only for Ava. And isn’t Anya like 5.2?

RussianGod: nado is still sleeping. But we can go to park and meet ladies. They love single dad. But Anya is little but scary. Have you not see how she keep sergei in check?

KrisVolley; you are not using my baby to meet ladies. Haha oh never thought of that. Anya is always nice to me 😂

KrisVolley: Here are the ground rules gentlemen!!!!

1) no begging - you need to say no and stick with it, unless she’s crying properly don’t give in to her. She hissy cries when she wants things her way

2) not too much sugar and candy alright? (Looking at you Kuny)

3) Kuny and nado can’t use her as a ploy to ensnare women.

4) do NOT teach her any more Russians words unless they’re good, safe and cute words. The press still hounds me from the time you taught her to cuss a ref....

5) have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Nadotheman: Morning boys. Also happy to babysit. But tHaNkS fOR aSkInG kase... 👍🏻 also @KrisVolley:

1) how the hell are we supposed to say no to that face? No idea how you made such a beautiful baby.

2) no problem. (Totally lying to you)

3) we would never use our baby niece in such a despicable way 😳 also it was one time and we can’t help that we are irresistible to baby-crazy ladies.

4) she can only scold a ref. According to Kuny totally safe and good words. Don’t believe what Sergei or Sunny says. Or the press.

5) so don’t knock up a fan at 18? Alright man got it.

KrisVolley: ....

Nadotheman: just keeping it real. You’re a cautionary tale for the rookies man. But your baby is cute. And you do a great job bro! 💪🏻

KrisVolley: I’m a what?? And thanks Nado. 😊

Blizzard: When you’re done with your moment.... I’m picking her up in five, can Nat go with you to Dumo’s? Ava and I will go have brunch at the bat cave and have an awesome time. And don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on the boys.

KrisVolley: thanks Blizzard. Good practice as well 😉

Kuny: 👀👀👀👀 baby blizzard????

Blizzard: alright calm down m8. We’re not even married (no judging kris)

Nadotheman: whatever you say bro. You gotta make a baby with that girl - she swooned at family skate. Also we all saw you makin heart eyes at the Brady bunch. 😆😆😆😆

Blizzard: they’re adorable and this conversation ends here. We’re outside now Kris. Also don’t encourage Nat. I’ve got a plan. 😬

——-

Nado: Kuny. Kuny. Is it baby safe? They’re here in 15 minutes.

Kuny: why you text me? I’m next door.

Kuny: also yes is fine. Maybe get bra down. It been in fan for 3 days

Nado: you’re the tall one. Get it down.

Kuny: I not put it there.

Nado: fine you lazy jerk. I’ll get it down.

Kuny: 😘

Nado: fuck off. But I love you too bro.

—-

Until next time, my lovelies 🥰

Always open for ideas, prompts, constructive criticism!

Also - does hug a goalie day exist? I think it should.

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

The Journals Of Derek Grady Part 1

This is a story set within my Bioshock Rebirth AU. A reimaging/reboot of the Bioshock franchise. https://geekgemsspookyblog.tumblr.com/post/626141727587270656/bioshock-rebirth-timeline-this-is-a-timeline-of-an Just as a heads up if anyone is wondering about the context. I’ve had some stories in my drafts for a long time now and I’m finally publicly sharing them.

I made a post talking about this. There is this character named Derek that was in one of my pilot stories for this AU. But I felt strangely ashamed of how I wrote him. But I’d feel it’s best to use him in better context. In something very intriguing. Mainly the point of view of the Rapture Civil War from someone who fought in it. 

There is this silly theme of certain characters being named Derek in some AU’s of mine. Usual they are men that seem well intentioned, but their mind isn’t always in the best place. I’m just gonna make this because this is something I wanna make.

This was first started/made on December 23rd 2020. I’m not gonna have this beta read. It’s time I just upload this shit. I got the two tags done with. But I would like to mention I was heavily or so inspired by the Star Wars Battlefront 2 Classic story. Especially with the first journal from this character being inspired by the, “Knightfall” level. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lgG2ENW5Ac Spoilers ahead.

12/31/2001. The attack on the Kashmir restuarant.

I was a young kid when I first arrived in Rapture. I was naïve like many others. Many of used to believe in Andrew Ryan’s so called, “Great Chain”, until things started to fall apart. Especially after the death of scumbag Frank Fontaine. I find it funny he tried to put on a nice guy act whenever he met someone new or when he was in public, but I’ve heard the stories. The stories of the type of man he was.

But after Ryan nationalized Fontaine Futuristics in January 1999, a lot of people weren’t happy. It was surprising how long it took something to happen. So much dividing of social classes, so much shit that had happened during those years. What was gonna happen tonight would change everything forever...

I’ve been on Atlas’s crew of bandits since July. I felt joining Atlas was the best decision I made in my entire life. Because I felt I fighting for the right thing, a good cause. But what Atlas had planned sounded to me almost like terrorism. 

Yet when I thought about it, I really thought hard to myself. After everything we’ve suffered, how Ryan started to push everyone away, how he tried keep himself in power. Even though Rapture was supposed to be the perfect paradise...Andrew Ryan, Brigid Tenenbaum, Augustus Sinclair, Sander Cohen, Yi Suchong, Sofia Lamb, and so many others...how they treated us.

First it was just riots, but now it was time for Ryan and everyone who supported him knew what we were. What we stood for. They were gonna find out we weren’t some bandits who kidnapped some rich assholes to get payback or robin hood archetypes helping poor folks. 

There was no more talk for peace. Because Ryan never gave a damn...he never did.

1/31/2002. The Civil War starting. Apollo Square. Atlas and crew.

It’s been a month since we launched an attack on Kashmir. Things started to really change because the war for this city finally had truly begun. I have never been in war, but with the skills I’ve learned from Atlas and Daisy. I’d felt I was ready, because I needed to be. Not many of us were actual soldiers. But that didn’t matter to us. We knew what had to be done.

But we didn’t knew that Ryan would try to make Apollo Square a prison camp. Yet that didn’t matter, when those so called security officers first started to set people ablaze when they tried escaping. We shot any who would tried to do such things again. When they were hanging people, we fought back because we got tired of their bullshit. We didn’t fuck around. I felt proud when I shot one of those damn officers in the head. 

Apollo Square was practically our paradise. Sure Ryan’s army kept trying to get in, yet we always defended it. Yet even without Ryan, we still had others to worry about.

I feel pretty damn grateful a lot of our weapons were smuggled from the surface. We kept some of the weapons Ryan’s men had as well. 

But I think what I felt more grateful was our leaders. Daisy Fitzroy was practically Atlas’s 2nd in command. She was a tough woman, she didn’t take shit. Considering she worked for that weird kinky lady known as Ava Tate, I can’t blame her becoming that. She’s one of the bravest and smartest women I’ve fought with. I’m surprised she didn’t form our rebellion first.

Bill was lucky enough to be convinced by Atlas to join us after he resigned from the council. But Bill was like us. Even though he believed in Rapture, he was just an old man who wanted the best for people. I found that admirable of him. I also think he’s grateful we hid his ass after he left Ryan. Considering how Ryan gets upset with whoever betrays him, he’d rather want them dead...yet that might of been different considering he was best friends with Ryan himself. 

Diane was new, she was a hostage once with Julie Langford. But when Ryan never paid her ransom and practically didn’t care for her. But I do think she noticed those Jasmine Jolene posters throughout the city, making Ryan’s betrayal seemingly more worse. She originally came to Apollo Square to yell at us of how we possibly ruined her life. But when she saw the shit we were going through, she soon understood even more of the situation. Especially when we heard it wasn’t made better when hearing Ryan’s thoughts on people like us.

She joined us rather quickly, she was like Bill in a way. Diane was honestly a kind woman, it always felt nice to have more supporters. I do find it surprising from what I’ve seen that her and Daisy seemed to have developed a thing. Yet I found it surprisingly adorable...mainly because it was so strange to see Daisy seem soft to another person. But I think it gave the ladies more of a reason to keep fighting on.

But Atlas...he was something else. There was a reason people followed him. I followed him for plenty of good reasons. He seemed like a action hero you see out of those films from Hollywood. But I have never met a man so kind, yet so humble. He was the best of us...or that’s what I thought. You can have a good laugh with him too while having a drink. The man had a family, but he didn’t spoke of them much to keep them safe. I also remember hearing he was a captain in the Irish army. Which gave us an advantage in some ways over Ryan’s men.

He was the perfect anti-thesis to Andrew Ryan. Atlas was someone many genuinely respected and loved. Men wanted to be him, women loved him. To me and others. He wasn’t just a friend. Atlas was sometimes like a brother, or even a father.

Sure he wasn’t perfect and did some questionable things. But we knew it was for the best. Atlas is our best shot at winning this war. And I’m proud to fighting side by side with him, no matter what. 

2/1/2002. Johnny Topside.

I never met the man, but Atlas knew him only for a year. The way he talked about Johnny. I’ve heard stories of him, well that’s because Atlas didn’t want his memory to die. Atlas said Johnny Topside was a diver who had discovered Rapture years ago and for sometime was forced to live in Rapture until he finally had enough. 

Johnny Topside was the start of our rebellion. He was the one that planted the seeds. Johnny was the first to stand up to Ryan, but it resulted in tragedy. No one knows fully what happened to him. But Atlas said Ryan had tried to erase Johnny’s memory from history, and that it was very likely he may of been turned into...a Big Daddy...the idea of that horrifies me.

When Atlas spoke of him, he spoke of him so highly. Saying that Johnny was like a younger brother to him. You could of even seen at times Atlas nearly choked up when talking about him. I can’t blame him, losing someone that was like a brother to him. I’ve would of been nearly tearing up.

The story of Johnny Topside was something that kept us going, it inspired us. Hell, it even inspired me. Atlas didn’t want his memory to die, because what he was doing wasn’t just for everyone. But it was also justice for Johnny...justice for everyone that had enough of Ryan.

My only disappointment is that I never got to meet Johnny...because when Atlas says he’d would rather had him lead us...that says a helluva lot about Topside.

2/3/2002. Booker Dewitt and Ryan’s personal guard.

I’ve heard the stories of Dewitt...he merely sounded like a ghost. But he wasn’t. This was the man that shot down Fontaine, and most likely helped captured Johnny Topside.

Captain Dewitt was known to the citizens as, “The Grim Reaper Of Rapture” and he damn well earned it. But he was also Ryan’s new best friend after Bill left. Dewitt kept Ryan’s enemies in check. Whether by killing them when no one was looking, or capturing them. 

Security was fine, but Ryan’s personal guard and when Dewitt was leading them...that was scary. I think what scared us rebels was whenever he showed up. He always wore that mask...which gave him more of a reason to call him a grim reaper...because he damn sure was.

Ryan’s personal guard weren’t just police officers enforcing Ryan’s rule, they were literal soldiers. They were formed when Johnny Topside had discovered Rapture. The guard was basically a better version of security.

They were made up of men who either genuinely believed in the, “Great Chain” or just were looking to be paid by Ryan. Some of them were ex soldiers, mercenaries, and they were all just horrible people. 

The guard weren’t pushovers, they had years of experience or training by Dewitt. They were merciless, brutal, and effective. The fact Ryan had now decided to use them even more now showcased he truly wasn’t fucking around anymore. He wanted to win this war. But we weren’t gonna let that happen.

I think we were just thankful they didn’t really use Plasmids...if they did...then I felt this war may be over already. But it also gives us a easier chance to kill them all.

2/15/2002. Splicers.

Over the years since ADAM was discovered. Splicers became thing. Poor folks who used too spliced too much...they were once people...but they were sadly monsters now. I think what surprised us is how some of them were on our side...but not many. Unless they controlled themselves.

The Splicers of many types were a pain in the ass for Ryan and Atlas. Killing the rebels or Ryan’s personal guard. They had no allegiance...all they wanted was ADAM...they were basically drug addicts. I remember seeing one time a woman shanking a man for his ADAM, we had to put her down.

I didn’t really use Plasmids much, or some of the others like Atlas, Daisy, Diane, and Bill. It seemed good for Atlas that some of the rebels didn’t try to splice up. Which meant we can deal with less people turning into those...things.

There was one time I had to put down one of them. The man was just 21, but he had spliced up so much that he had gone insane. He tried attacking Daisy and Diane, but me and Daisy took him down shot him in the chest. But he was still breathing.

...I shot him in the head...I hesitated at first for about five seconds...he was younger than me. I wanted to make his death as quick and painless...it gave me a haunting reminder of why we were still fighting. All this pain and suffering...it started with the discover of that damn thing called ADAM...

I’m surprised I haven’t spoken about Tenenbaum yet...I feel like she was 2nd in place for me to kill after Ryan.

3/15/2002. Big Daddies, Little Sisters, and Brigid Tenenbaum.

I think the other thing that haunts me a lot and so many others is these two...I’ve seen them countless times and I have fought them when I joined Atlas.

Big Daddies are practically these...monsters that used to be people...slaves to protect what were once literal children...

These monsters looked like literal giant diving suits at times...some had drills, some had guns. They were tough sons of bitches. These things could kill a man easily, or even a group of a men if you weren’t careful. 

But it’s the Little Sisters that horrify me and other rebels...not because they are dangerous or that they are killers. It’s the fact of what they are. They were children...or possibly still are...forced to collect ADAM because they were implanted with some...damn sea slug Tenenbaum discovered...

There is no known cure for them. I think many of us want a cure. But the only way to help these girls is something horrific...harvesting them. Atlas said it was to put them out of their misery. They had ADAM in them.

From what I’ve seen, some rebels harvested them, some didn’t. Daisy didn’t do it. Neither did Diane or Bill. I remember seeing Atlas making the most sickened face after harvesting one, he didn’t enjoy it at all.

I think it may of bothered Atlas some didn’t harvest them...but it’s understandable why some wouldn’t. Because I remember seeing one 37 year old man, after he had harvested just one Little Sister. The man about 5 minutes later literally put a pistol under his jaw and killed himself.

We all understood why he even did that. Because after you witness a child being horrified by you about to harvest them...it’s a sight you’re never going to forget.

I can still hear those girls screaming. Daisy and Diane do too...it’s in our nightmares. For some reason...the harvesting of a Little Sister scars me than seeing a Splicer or whatever else...I don’t know why...I think it’s because all that innocence was lost...or actually taken. Because there was no other way to help them.

It was all because of one woman, Brigid Tenenbaum. I heard she worked with Frank Fontaine to help make those girls into what they are. I’ve heard she’s had a hard life, but that doesn’t excuse what I find one of the most horrific crimes I’ve ever seen. She’s been in hiding for 4 years after being exposed for what she did.

If we ever find Tenenbaum...I want to put my foot on her throat...whatever what we want to do to her. To be honest, I think I want to kill her more than Ryan...because I don’t know how you can be forgiven for doing that to a child.

God forgives, and whenever I have to put down a fellow rebel because they spliced up too much, I make it quick and painless as possible...but Tenenbaum...quick and painless is not gonna mean anything if we ever find her. 

6/3/2002. SOS and Archie Wynand.

After six months of war with Ryan’s personal guard and the Splicers. Whether some were controlled or not...things were going south for us. We fought hard, we planned as best as we could. But nothing was working, because Ryan was nearly winning.

There was panic among us, we were fearing that all of this could be for nothing. But Atlas revealed something, which he said was a risk in case. He somehow gave an SOS message to the surface to whoever would get it. Because he knew we weren’t gonna win this on our own anymore. We needed help, we needed the surface to discover Rapture. But also, we needed someone to help us take down Ryan. It was on Sunday Atlas gave out the message for help. We prayed someone would answer it. Luckily for us, someone did answer it.

Despite his aircraft was shot down by Ryan, and being the only survivor of his squad. Someone had arrived. That someone was a young man named Sergeant Archie Wynand. An Army Ranger sent by the US Government to discover where the SOS came from. 

To be honest, I was worried by the fact only one man had survived. I’d feared we still didn’t stand a chance. But after I saw that man enter combat and killed so many Splicers, I have never seen a man fought hard like that. He was still young like me, but he was like a commando in his way. It was as if someone like Atlas again had come to save us. 

Me and him never really talked, but from what I’ve seen. That man is the bravest soul I’ve ever seen. He’s loyal to a fault and unbreakable, it was like seeing a warrior unlike any other. I will admit, I felt a bit jealous when Atlas has giving him a lot more attention than me. 

But Archie was important. Atlas sent him commands and he followed through. But I think what confused me the most was something Atlas had revealed earlier. Which resulted in ordering Archie to go to a certain building, a tower in the middle of Rapture. 

6/4/2002. Elizabeth.

A day before Archie had arrived. There was this strange new information Atlas had discovered. That there was some girl in this tower in Rapture. Her name was Elizabeth. Atlas had discovered it when raiding a building near that tower. 

We were so confused on why Ryan had a girl in this tower. In fact? Why was she there? Who was she really? Even Atlas was confused, but she seemed important.

But I feel our questions were answered when Archie saved her. I didn’t get to talk to her personally, but I have seen her in action with my own eyes. Along with some footage. 

Somehow, this young girl had some powers of an unknown source. She was able to summon old sentries, and other things. It felt unnatural. Sure the Plasmids and other discoveries in Rapture were very special...but what this girl could do...it made us question even more who the hell she was and why Ryan had her locked away.

Gonna admit though, she was honestly adorable.

6/5/2002. Elizabeth’s purpose, and what the Hell is Archie? What the Hell is going on?

I think it horrified me and the rebels of what Elizabeth was supposed to be. Why she was kept secret from Rapture. What Atlas had discovered more is that she was secretly a weapon Ryan would use in case against someone like us. A sleeper agent that would of slipped through our ranks or anyone else...almost like a female fatale Ryan wanted to make personally...it confused me because from what I’ve seen, she’s nothing like that.

But I think we surprised us more is that she had been in Rapture since 1983. For about 19 years, Ryan had her in there, with hardly anyone knowing. I think it sickened me a bit more hearing Ryan was gonna use a young woman as a secret weapon in case someone like Atlas came along. It was almost like what happened with the Little Sisters.

Yet the other thing that’s been on my mind is Archie. I’ve talked about how much of a warrior he was. Ever since he rescued Elizabeth, she’s been by his side ever since. I haven’t seen such a effective team. It was like they were perfect for each other.

But again, it’s Archie that has me thinking. Sure he’s a soldier...but compared to any of us...and even compared to Ryan’s personal guard. I have never seen a man be so efficient in what he does. This was a young man, yet he fought like he was like some sort of super soldier. Hell, I don’t even think Atlas and Daisy are that efficient. He’s fast and strong.

He was also using so many Plasmids without mutating. I couldn’t get it? He wasn’t becoming spliced up. I couldn’t believe it? I had lost count of how many times he injected a Eve Hypo into his wrists.

I think the scary part is how many Big Daddies he’s killed...how can one man kill so many. I didn’t understand it? But from what I’ve seen from footage is...him curing the Little Sisters...I couldn’t believe it.

Where were he and Elizabeth staying at? I heard Atlas yesterday say they were at Tenenbaum’s...I couldn’t understand...I’m confused...

6/5/2002 A bigger Big Daddy.

I didn’t understand nor could I comprehend what I had witnessed. Ever since Archie arrived...things were changing. What made me think this way was when I saw...something I didn’t think was possible.

Out of all the Big Daddies we’ve killed. I had never seen one so big. He was about 12 feet tell...he looked older than any of the Big Daddies. He looked similar to the Alpha series Big Daddies...I couldn’t understand. I was lucky to have lived, but I witness it killed so many rebels, Splicers, and Ryan’s army. This Big Daddy was vicious. It seemed like he was on a mission. As if he was tracking down Elizabeth.

I’m just in disbelief...I don’t understand.

I was a witness also to see Elizabeth teleport it somewhere...I think it’s dead...I’m not sure.

6/6/2002. The war soon coming to an end.

To be honest, I was fearing we may never win. But somehow we made it. Captain Dewitt was beaten yesterday, and now Ryan is soon to be dealt with. 

I’ve learned from Atlas that Tenenbaum had created a cure for the Little Sisters...I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. I asked him again if he was telling the truth, and he was. That’s why Archie and Elizabeth were staying with Tenenbaum somewhere. 

It still sounded so crazy. But the next piece of news is that these three would be coming to Atlas’s headquarters, our base of operations. I couldn’t believe I was seeing Tenenbaum...I had...weird feelings.

The plans were while Archie and others went to Ryan’s office to finally take him down. There was hardly anyone left to defend him. While Elizabeth and Dr. Tenenbaum stayed at Atlas’s headquarters. It...an experience meeting this young girl...even after everything she’d been through, but so kind. 

But I wasn’t gonna be staying for long either like Archie. Atlas sent me and some men to take over Fort Folic considering Archie and Elizabeth’s recent visit there. As if the freak that was Sander Cohen had finally left somewhere. It was no longer locked up.

I felt genuine hope for the first time. As if this whole nightmare will finally end. But I will admit, I wanted to kill Ryan as much as anybody else. I had my orders, and I listened. Besides, taking back Fort Folic was a huge win

I do recall Ryan playing golf at times. Hopefully when Archie gets to his office, he’ll beat the Walt Disney lookalike of a fuckhead with his own golf club. It’s what Ryan deserved...it’s what many of us wanted.

6/7/2002. Atlas...and the end...

...I don’t even know what to say...the war is over...it’s actually over...

But it didn’t end with Ryan dying or getting captured...

Atlas...our leader...my hero...my best friend...the anti-thesis to Ryan...was Frank Fontaine.

He’s dead...he was brutally hung...by Archie...his corpse is hanging for everyone to see...he...looks like half of a monster.

Everything we’ve done...everything we stood for...I feel betrayed, but I feel relived. I think others are feeling a similar way...I need no I want answers...

6/8/2002. The birth of the Vox Populi. Tenenbaum discovering these journals.

I think what happened on Thursday and Friday...changed so many of us...even myself...I thank Daisy and Diane for explaining it to me.

There was a huge meeting with the remaining rebels. Archie, Elizabeth, and Dr. Tenenbaum joined in as well. So many discussions were had. Rapture was finally ours...

While Splicers were still a thing, and some rich assholes were still around. Considering half of the city was still going, but we came together to formulate a plan. 

There won’t be another Andrew Ryan, or even another Frank Fontaine. The end of the Rapture Civil War was only the beginning of something much better. 

We weren’t just called rebels anymore, we were officially given a name now. The Vox Populi. It was Daisy’s idea for the name. We were basically the reformed version of Atlas’s rebellion. But now, we had genuine people who actually gave a damn. Who wouldn’t use us as puppets. That we will strive for a better tomorrow. 

For peace, a better community. So we can help out every Little Sister we can find out there, and help whoever else is in Rapture. We’re gonna make this shithole of a city a better living place. No more tyrants, no more conmen, no more rulers, just people wanting to make this place a better place for everyone.

Justice, peace, and all that...I think many of us are still getting over what happened with Atlas...I’m still getting used to it...I’m just grateful it’s over.

But before this the huge meeting, Dr. Tenenbaum discovered my journals...she read what I wrote about her...our struggles. I apologized to her, but she said it’s okay. She said she doesn’t blame me for being angry. I think what surprised me more was the one person that her the most was herself...

For some odd reason, I forgave her...she just stared at me with surprise. She gave me a small smile...and then I said I think I could forgive her after everything she’s tried doing to fix her mistakes. Because I told her trying to fix your mistakes is better than doing nothing.

[let-it-raines]

it’s all an act (until it isn’t) {1/1}

High school drama teacher Killian Jones doesn’t have time for drama off the stage. He’s had enough of it in his life, and no part of him is searching for more. But then the day before his theater class’s modern day interpretation of a fairytale begins its four-week run, his two leads get sick. There are no understudies, no one to fill the roles, but as they say, the show must go on. 

With him in it, apparently. 

Having Emma Swan, the music teacher and woman who has avoided him since her first day of work at Storybrooke High, fill in as the starring role opposite him is the complete opposite of what he expected. 

Rating: Teen

A/N: Shoutout to @shireness-says and @wellhellotragic for giving me the prompts that make up the inspiration behind this story. You two are always bright spots of sunshine and deserve all of the cupcakes 🧁 in the world. I mean that very, very seriously. ❤️

And thank you to @captainsjedi for organizing @csseptembersunshine and making me get my butt in gear to finally write this story when I’d been struggling with my one-shots. 

Found on AO3: | Here |

Tag list: @kmomof4 @heavenlyjoycastle @tiganasummertree @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @idristardis @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @emmas-storybook @searchingwardrobes @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard

-/-

“Where the bloody hell are Ethan and Kate?”

Killian’s voice bellows over the stage, his words echoing off of the walls and seemingly disappearing into the void, which is what happens whenever he talks on some days. He’s got maybe five students who actively listen to him every single day, and every single one of those five are on a field trip to some kind of classical music concert that he did not give approval for. Granted, he’s only the drama teacher, but when they have the opening night of the play they’ve been practicing for coming up tomorrow, he kind of expects his students to be around.

Or to at least be asked if the field trip interferes with anything.

But was he asked? No, no of course he wasn’t. He’s never asked anything because on the school’s totem pole of important faculty, he is at the bottom with all of the other fine arts teachers, which is a damn shame. Reading and writing and arithmetic are important. No one knows this more than him, someone who has spent nearly all of his life in school even when he was in the Navy, but kids can’t be contained at a desk all day. They have to move or create art, whether that be painting, acting, or playing the damn piccolo. They have to be able to broaden their horizons and have an outlet for everything that they’re going through, so he thinks the drama department is pretty damn important.

As well as the art and music departments, even the physical education departments – and that’s not simply because he is also the track and field coach.

And yet, here he is unable to find his two leads for tomorrow, as well as most of his best students, and it’s all because Emma Swan didn’t bother to tell him that she was taking so many of his kids away to go to an all-day music festival outside of town the day before opening night.

Killian would bet that she did it on purpose.

Actually, he knows that she did.

Emma Swan is the bane of his existence. Never will he forget the day that she started at Storybrooke High three years ago. They’d pulled up into the teacher’s parking lot at the same time, and he’d seen her struggling to grab all of her bags and boxes of things, so he’d quickly slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward her, offering her both a smile and a hand. She’d accepted, a nervous smile on her face, her green eyes very obviously wary of him, and they’d walked in the front doors of the school together.

She was (is) gorgeous. There was no denying that, not that he ever has. She was all toned legs and arms in her red dress that contrasted well against the light, but not too pale, tone of her skin. Her smile was brightened by the red lipstick she was wearing, her full lips accentuated by it, and the blonde of her hair fell down her back in waves that he wanted to run his fingers through.

Obviously, he didn’t. There’s such a thing as human decency and sexual harassment, and he is nothing if not a gentleman (most of the time), but he did notice that she was simply a stunning woman.

The stunning Emma Swan.

There’d been small talk, of course, and he’d asked her about her new position here, what school she was coming from, follow up questions to all of that, and then offered his help for anything and everything that she might need while starting her new job. She’d smiled and said thank you, but then she’d easily navigated to her office, the one just outside of the music classroom and across the hall from his office and the auditorium where he spends his days, and shut the door in his face.

After that, he never quite cracked her code.

During lunch, she seems to have no issue talking to other teachers. She gladly chats with Belle, their librarian, Mary Margaret, the science teacher for grades nine and ten, and occasionally she can be seen talking with other teachers as well. Really, she’s so goddamn friendly with everyone that it makes absolutely zero sense for her to dislike him and not want to be friendly with him. Sure, he’s been disliked by many a woman before – bad dates and relationships and then once for taking the last carton of milk at the grocery store – but he’s always known why. He’s never been left in this state of confusion as to why he’s disliked.

Which is a shame because he quite fancies her from time to time when she’s not yelling at him for taking her students away from practice to work with him on stage or when she’s stealing his students for a last-minute fieldtrip to who knows where on the day of dress rehearsals.

Emma’s got this thing that she does during faculty meetings where whenever she disagrees with what’s being said, she scrunches up her nose and makes it wrinkle. He imagines that she wrinkles her nose when she thinks of him, most likely holding one of her many swan-themed coffee mugs that’s got a fifty-fifty shot of being filled with coffee with vanilla creamer or hot chocolate topped with loads of cinnamon. He can’t even begin to imagine how much she has to work out for how she eats. That, or she has the world’s greatest metabolism.

Damn her for making him notice these things and damn her for stealing his students.

“Seriously, guys,” Killian grumbles again, shifting the canopy bed prop that they rolled onto stage earlier this afternoon. His hands are full of callouses and most likely stained in paint for how much work he’s had to put into making the set. Liam and Elsa have come to the school or his apartment after they get off of work to help out with making sets, and he wonders just how he can repay them for going above and beyond when they already work far more often than him…and he feels like he never stops working. “Why aren’t you listening to me? Where are Kate and Ethan?”

Of the thirty teenagers that he still has with him today, two look up, and neither of them say anything, simply looking at him with pleading eyes, begging him not to make them talk. He loves all of these kids, and even though sometimes it’s hard to garner the attention of all of them, it’s usually much better than this.

He’s a damn good teacher. He can command a room, his five far-too-loyal students aside.

“Bloody hell,” he shouts, clapping his hands together so that the remaining twenty-eight heads look up at him with varying degrees of disgust. “I know that you guys don’t have a lot to do right now when we’re missing our leads, but that doesn’t mean you can just ignore me. Now will someone tell me where Kate and Ethan are? I know they’re not in music, so I know that they’re not on the field trip.”

His eyes scan over the group, looking for someone who’s going to crack, and he finally finds it in Ava.

“They’re sick, Mr. Jones,” she says quietly as her fingers twist around her braid. “That’s what Kate said when she texted me this morning.”

“Are they actually sick or are they skipping classes today while their parents think that they’re at school? And are they going to be better tomorrow?”

He’s met with silence once more until a deep laugh breaks out from Felix, a kid who is great at building sets but not so great at being a part of the team. Honestly, Killian has no idea why he’s even in this class when he could have chosen from several other electives. Deep down, he thinks it might be to torture Killian. Honestly. He’s only ninety percent sure that isn’t the reason he’s in the class.

Maybe eighty percent. It depends on the day.

“They have fucking mono, man,” Felix laughs, propping his feet up on the theater chair in front of him. “They’re not coming to class.”

“Language,” Killian says instinctively while his mind runs over the information he’s just been given. He’s a little loose with his curse words, but Americans seem to be a little more reserved with curses than he and all of his fellow Brits are so this is something he’s had to deal with while teaching in America. “What do you mean they have mono? How do you know this, but I don’t?”

“Group chat,” Felix answers noncommittally. “Ethan went to the doctor a couple days go, then Kate went, and they both got mono because they’re not just making out on stage, you know?”

Yes, he does know about the fact that the two leads in his play are dating. He didn’t when he cast them, but that also wouldn’t have mattered. He knows far too much about each of his students and their personal lives because for some reason, every bit of gossip happens while in this auditorium. The things that he’s heard while trying to paint a tree for set or while attempting to give an actual lesson where his students are supposed to take notes on the history of theater.

No part of him misses when he was a teenager. Every little thing feels like the most important thing, and he cannot imagine having to feel that way again.

“They have mono,” he repeats, testing out the words on his tongue all the while he tries to convince himself that this isn’t real. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. You haven’t gotten a note from their parents about it?”

Killian shakes his head before pulling his phone out of his back pocket, ignoring texts from his brother and his mates so that he can login to his school email. There are several messages that he sees that he needs to get to later all involving logistics for the show tomorrow night, and then he sees the emails Felix mentioned.

Bloody buggering fuck.

His leads are sick.

And they didn’t do any understudies because no one else was comfortable enough to sing on stage, and he figured that it’s just a high school play that the kids wanted to put on as a part of the class. It wasn’t a big deal.

Except for the fact that their principal told him that the ticket sales can all go toward fundraising for the drama department, and now he doesn’t have anyone to actually lead the play.

His students wanted to put on a modern-day fairytale, and all of these disasters happening at once make him think that he might very well be living in one.

If a modern-day fairytale is actually a nightmare.

-/-

Killian has been staring at his computer screen in his office for at least two hours when he hears the click of boots against the linoleum floor in the hallway outside of his office. It’s past six, everyone long gone, and he knows that it can only be one person walking out in the hallway.

Emma.

There’s a flash of long legs and blonde hair falling over a red leather jacket, and he’d recognize those three elements of her person anywhere. But as she’s walking into her office, across the hall from him, he definitely knows that it’s her. The fact that she leaves her door open and he can see her sitting at her desk certainly doesn’t help him forget.

How is she so beautiful and infuriating all at once?

“It’s rude to stare, Jones,” Emma shouts from her office like she does whenever they have these kinds of conversations.

He blinks up at her, unaware of how long exactly he has been staring at her. His head is pounding a ridiculous amount, and he wonders why the hell he ever left England and the Royal Navy just to come to America to teach high school drama and yell at kids to keep running around an asphalt track.

(Heartbreak, following his brother, et cetera.)

“It’s rude to take away my students the day before we have a show opening.”

“Their parents signed permission slips. I wasn’t aware I needed approval from you too.”

“Yeah, well, it’s common courtesy to at least let me know. Why isn’t there a school policy about that?”

He can’t quite see, but he knows that she’s rolling those green eyes of hers. She rises from her desk, and while he thinks she’s only getting up to close her office door, she doesn’t. Instead, she walks into the hallway and over to his office, leaning her shoulder up against his doorframe as she crosses her arms over her chest. When did she take her jacket off to leave her in a simple white sweater?

“You okay?” Emma asks, what sounds like genuine concern in her voice.

“Do you actually care?”

She scoffs, and he looks up at her again so that he can see the slightest twitching in her jaw along with a wrinkling of her nose.

“Believe it or not, I’m not a complete and total bitch. You look like you’re freaking out, and I’m genuinely concerned about that.”

“Ah well,” he sighs, reaching up to scratch behind his ear as he plasters a fake smile on his face, “you don’t have to worry about me, love. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re a liar is what you are.”

“How would you know?”

“For one, you have the worst poker face in the world, but I also have a little bit of a superpower in being able to tell when someone is lying.”

“Really now?”

“Yep. You don’t teach teenagers for six years without knowing how to tell someone is lying.” She steps further into the room and takes a seat in the cushioned chair that sits in the small space across from his desk. This might be the most pleasant conversation they’ve had in years, and he’s still not entirely sure that it isn’t some kind of fever dream. “So, tell me, Jones, what has you looking like you’d rather have a mug full of rum than coffee this late in the afternoon?”

Sighing, he leans forward on his desk and taps his fingers over the script, large letters typed out to read “Sleeping Beauty.” He’s got the entire script memorized now, mostly because he was the one to write the majority of it – with the help of the actual fairytale, the movie, and then his students when they insisted they do a modern version of a fairytale with a twist – but also because he’s been running lines with these kids for weeks.

And now he has no stars.

“I’m a bloody idiot,” he starts, swallowing his pride and the stress that’s lodged in his throat, “because I didn’t cast understudies for this play. Only two students in the class were comfortable both singing and sharing a kiss on stage, and I figured that it would be fine. It’s not a huge production, but then I was told that ticket sales could go to the theater department so that I can actually have funding. But the joke is on me because my leads have mono and are pretty much out for the entire month that we were going to be doing the show.”

Silence surrounds him as he finishes his rant, wondering why the hell he’s ranting to Emma in the first place, and he swears that he can hear the beating of his heart. Or maybe it’s the ticking of the clock above his door.

“You don’t have any other kids who know the lines?”

“Ava Hanson,” he sighs, looking up at Emma while he runs his hands through his hair, “but she’s not going to feel comfortable on stage. At this point, I’m wondering if we should simply postpone or if maybe I should play the lead role and modify things to make it more appropriate. Honestly, though, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable doing that.”

Emma groans, something deep and annoyed, and he’s just about to snap at her as he wonders what the hell could she possibly be upset about when she gets up from the chair and starts pacing back and forth in the room, her face buried in her hands.

“I’m willing to help you,” Emma huffs, stopping her pacing to look at him with her hands on her hips.

“What, love?”

“Look, I know what it’s like to be a part of the arts department, obviously, and funding is so hard to come by that I wouldn’t want you to miss out on any for those kids. Plus, I’m sure a bunch of the kids were looking forward to it. So, for those two reasons and those two reasons alone, I will read over the script and see if I can act in your play if you’re going to fill in for the other lead role.”

“You’re serious?” Killian questions. There’s no way. Absolutely none. “You realize this is a three-times a week thing for four weeks, it involves singing, extra time for no pay, and you have to spend time with me?”

“I obviously haven’t won the lottery or anything here, but yeah, I got all of that.”

“And you know what play we’re doing, right?”

“Sleeping Beauty.”

“Which involves a kiss.”

Emma’s lips fall into the shape of an “O” and he chuckles at that, thoroughly enjoyed by the blush on Emma’s cheeks and the continual blinking of her eyes.

“Just,” she whines, reaching down onto the desk to pick up the script he was looking at, “brush your teeth beforehand, and don’t think I’m taking my eyes off of you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

-/-

There’s a substitute filling in for all of the theater and music classes the next day as he and Emma run through lines and do the messiest rehearsal in the history of rehearsals. Surprisingly, she knew most of her lines when she walked into the auditorium this morning, and while that did make everything go more smoothly, it was still a mess finding their timing as well as the timing of all of their students. But by the time the lunch bell rings, they’ve got a pretty good handle on it, and he sends Emma off to the closet where they keep the costumes to see if she can fit into Kate’s costumes. He’s sure that she can, especially with how slight Emma is, but then Emma walks up on stage with her breasts practically spilling out of the dress.

“What am I supposed to do about this?”

“To what are you referring?” Emma rolls her eyes and motions her hands around until she’s pointing at her chest, impatiently waiting for him to acknowledge the slight problem. “Well, love, your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear.”

Emma laughs, her eyes rolling once more, but he can see the slight smile on her face.

They might just get on, the two of them.

Or kill each other.

Everything for the rest of the day is a blur of him practicing while also dealing with all of the disasters and melodramatic emergencies that his students go through, and he swears the he blinks and people are already filling the auditorium. Liam and Elsa were kind enough to collect tickets for him, as well as buying far more tickets than necessary and forcing all of Elsa’s family to come to the show like he’s a teenager performing tonight and not an adult who screwed up, and he absolutely knows that he’s going to be teased about this until someone else does something equally embarrassing.

Not that being in theater is embarrassing. But being over thirty years old and acting with several sixteen-year-olds is.

Plus, they all know about his slight infatuation with Emma Swan and her definite dislike of him, and Killian just knows that Liam is going to be sitting in the front row recording this to have on file forever. It’ll likely be his Christmas card. Forget a picture of he and Elsa and Elsa’s ever-growing baby bump. It’s going to be Killian walking around on stage.

Closing the curtains he’s peeking out of, Killian turns around to see Emma standing in front of him wearing jeans and a blouse, her feet covered in white sneakers.

“What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“It’s a modern-day fairytale,” she points out with a smirk, motioning her hands over her. “This is what a modern-day woman wears. Plus, I bent over in that dress and a boob popped out. I’m not flashing some of these dads who already think they can hit on me.”

“Yeah,” Killian gulps, forcing a smile as his stomach twists, “good point. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

It goes surprisingly well even though everything that can go wrong does go wrong. Felix curses in the middle of the one scene that he’s in, Ava’s microphone goes out which makes her cheeks flame in embarrassment, a tree falls down on top of him during the forest scene, and the bed squeaks when he kneels down on top of it to kiss Emma awake.

And that is something else entirely.

He and Emma had argued for an hour over the scene where Phillip wakes Aurora up with a kiss. She’d agreed that it was written well and followed the original storyline, but she’d protested in how they should actually go about it. How the hell does one kiss their colleague and then everything go back to normal?

How did he ever expect his students to do that as well?

This is nothing like it ever was when he was occasionally in community theater in different parts of his life.

But then the play ends to a hefty smattering of applause, and Killian can finally take a deep breath.

And it starts all over again.

Four weeks. He can do four weeks.

-/-

“This is exhausting,” Emma sighs as she stretches out across the panels on the stage, her body star-fished on the wood.

The two of them have been at the school since seven this morning cleaning up the auditorium so the janitor didn’t have to come in on an extra day. It’s the right thing to do when it’s their fault that there’s extra mess in the school, but he’s really and truly regretting it right now that his head pounds at the lack of caffeine in his system. Emma was smart enough to walk in the school with one of her swan mugs full of coffee, but his mind was not thinking that far ahead this morning.

Damn Kate and Ethan for getting mono.

Can he damn his students?

He probably should not be doing that.

But he kind of wants to because while the past three weeks have been stressful and busy and his personal life has absolutely gone down the drain, it hasn’t been…awful. All of his students are having a grand time, having fun with each other and becoming more comfortable in their roles, and to him, that’s the most important thing. He wants them to know that this can be a fun experience and that they don’t have to worry about being judged. So, that’s been great.

Kissing Emma Swan approximately (exactly) eighteen times has been not so great.

Okay, well, it’s actually been wonderful in a weird sense. Stage kissing and actual kissing are two entirely different things, but once the stiffness of those first few days was gone, it felt more natural.

And his odd, inexplicable crush on Emma only deepened, which is the last thing that he wanted.

(He’s turning into a teenager.)

It only gets worse in the fact that she walked inside the building today in a pair of short black running shorts and a matching black tank top with her hair pulled off of her neck in a ponytail. He doesn’t know when she finds the time to work out, but if the definition in her arms and legs shows anything, it’s that she very much does find the time.

(So working out and a good metabolism is how she eats like she does.)

Plus, well, she’s not all bad.

They bicker more than anyone he’s ever met. If he says black, she says white. If he wants to get Chinese delivery for a late dinner, she wants pizza. If he wants to change the tempo on a song to be faster, Emma wants it to be slower. Every single thing is a battle, and he loves it.

In fact, he hasn’t had this much fun in years. Their bickering is different than their bickering of the past. It’s no longer hostile and falls more into the category of teasing or, if he’s a tad bit presumptuous, flirting. A little thrill of excitement runs through him when Emma picks a fight or teases him about the flip of his hair in the same way that he sees her lips curl up into a smile when he teases her right back for the way that her voice croaked during their third performance.

Fun.

Spending time with her is fun.

And he’s terrified to know what’s going to happen when the show ends its run in a week and they go back to hating each other from across the hallway.

“Aye,” he confirms, using the muscles in his arms to pull himself up to sit on the edge of the stage, his fingers reaching over to mess with the loose bit of Emma’s sock, pulling a bit more when she doesn’t flinch away. “Tis exhausting. I plan on sleeping for a solid week when it’s all over.”

“We have school.”

“I’m thinking of playing hooky. You want to join?”

“Depends,” she mumbles, sitting up and bringing her knees to her chest, “what are we going to do?”

Killian hums in thought, tapping his finger against his chin. “Well, for one, sleeping for at least a day. Then drinking a glass or two of rum without having to worry about waking up early the next morning, which is kind of the same thing. But mostly, in this fantasy world, I’m going to spend days away from teenagers of any and all kinds.”

“Amen to that, Jones. Add in some greasy hangover food after that night of rum drinking, and I am there.”

“Grilled cheese and onion rings?”

“It’s scary how you know that.”

“We share a cafeteria five days a week, love,” he sighs, turning a bit more on the stage so that he can look at her while he talks. “A man picks up on some things. I’m sure you notice these things about me too.”

Her brows furrow, suspicion painted in her features, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “This sounds like some kind of trap to stroke your ego, and I am not falling for it.”

“My princess,” he says sarcastically, knowing that she hates it, “whatever shall I do with you? I’d go to the ends of the world or time to make you happy.”

“All you have to do is go to the faculty lounge and make me some more coffee.”

Killian hops down from the stage and bends over in a sarcastic bow that has Emma laughing. “As you wish, milady.”

The show that night goes smoothly, probably their smoothest one yet. Everyone is settled in their roles now, so there’s not much to do but work on vocals and do little tweaks that he’ll need to work on if they also do a spring production. With classes and track and field practice, he’s not entirely sure how he’ll fit one in, especially with every other event that takes up the auditorium near graduation, but it’s simply something to think about.

As well as having understudies. He’s never making this mistake again even if it’s going much better than he ever could have imagined.

Emma is a damn good stage partner, which shouldn’t be surprising given what he knows about her musical ability, but being a musician doesn’t always translate over into being a good actor. At the beginning, he was definitely simply hoping for someone to fill the spot in the most adequate of ways. He was never expecting her to be good.

He also wasn’t expecting them to still have crowds this many shows in. Honestly, when the school set-up this timeline, he expected it to only last two weeks and for them to cancel the rest of the shows, but he managed to get a few retirement homes, elementary schools, and recreational groups to come on different nights so that there’s always someone sitting in the crowd.

If Will, Robin, and Liam are asses who keep coming back simply so that they have more proof of him acting with Emma, that’s beside the point.

If he went to dinner with Elsa three days ago and told her that he’s developed actual feelings for Emma over the past few days, that’s definitely beside the point.

And yet it is also every point on all of his lists written over and over again in permanent marker.

Every logical bone in his body told him not to let his little crush fester and develop into something more, but spending all of this time with her, watching her laugh at his jokes or hum along to their music while cleaning up after the shows has completely endeared her to him. It’s the oldest story in the world – a man falls for a woman – and yet he thinks this has the beginnings to be his favorite tale.

Tonight, though, is their final show, and since Kate and Ethan received the all clear from their doctors two days ago, he and Emma are very gladly stepping down from their roles to let their students close it out. A little bit of fate or good coincidence is playing out here, and when his ever-loyal small group of students tell him to go sit in the audience for once and watch, he listens.

If not with a bit of trepidation as it’s not like him not to be behind the curtains making sure everything goes just right.

“You want some popcorn?” Emma asks him when she plops down in the seat next to him, a red and white striped box in her hands, the smell of salt and butter invading his nostrils. “It’s really good. I’m sure it goes against your healthy eating lifestyle, but you should live a little.”

Killian reaches over to grab a handful, the butter greasy on his fingertips, before popping two pieces in his mouth. “So, you have noticed the way that I eat.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” She knocks her shoulder into his, and he knocks right back. “It’s going to be weird watching it from down here. I feel like I should be singing to you or gurgling mouthwash or something.”

“I knew you used mouthwash right before we kissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure that I could trust you despite me telling you to brush your teeth.”

“Minty and fresh,” he breathes, twisting his head so that he can get that little bit closer to Emma. “And maybe a little buttery now.”

“It’s a good thing you won’t be kissing me tonight then.”

His stomach twists at that, his heart dropping a little bit, and he knows that is shouldn’t. He’s an adult. He knows what happens up on that stage is all an act, literally, and his mind shouldn’t get confused by it. And while his mind likely isn’t confused by the lines that they say on stage, it’s confused by what happens off of it. It’s the lunches together and the way Emma comes into his office when they’re both staying late on non-play nights grading papers. Neither of them close their doors now, those wooden frames always staying open, and while she does still shout at him from across the hallway, very rarely is it cross words. Oftentimes it is simply Emma telling Killian to check his phone because she has sent him yet another meme about being a theater teacher.

Truly, it’s the smiles and small jokes and the way that her steps match up with his in the hallways, the echoes of their shoes blending together so that no one would know who exactly it is that’s walking down the corridors of the school.

It’s the subliminal changes, the ones that only he would notice, and while they are small, much like Emma, they are mighty.

“Yeah,” Killian mumbles a little dejected as he takes another bite of popcorn, “it is a good thing.”

Emma looks at him with parted lips like she’s about to speak, but before she can say anything, the squeak of the curtains opening sounds the beginning of the show.

Because Killian’s been acting in it and consumed with playing many roles both on and off stage, he hasn’t truly been able to appreciate the production. He hasn’t been able to appreciate the sets or the way that the kids easily change them between scenes. Now he’s able to notice that and precisely how much everyone has improved, how confident his students are under the lights and in front of the crowds. He’s always been a fan of pushing comfort zones, of helping his more shy students break out of them, but he also knows that it can’t be forced. Some people simply are not comfortable with that no matter how much time he gives, and that’s okay. They find their roles in other ways.

“Kate’s voice is beautiful,” Emma whispers in his ear, but he has a difficult time focusing on it for how her hand is curled around his forearm. She’s got soft hands, especially considering the callouses he knows should form from playing instruments all day. “Does she play any instruments? Why is she not in one of my music classes?”

“Don’t pilfer my students, Swan.”

Her fingers pinch around his skin, pulling at the hair, and Killian scrunches up his nose while he looks at her, their noses only two or three inches apart. “I wasn’t trying to, thank you very much. I was thinking maybe we could see if some of my students wanted to do a combination with yours. We could do live music with a play. Maybe not one that runs for four weeks, but at least a show.”

“Look at you coming around to me.”

“Yeah, well, like you said, we make quite the team.”

When the play is over, his students doing a bang-up job and giving a better performance than they ever would with he and Emma on stage, the audience rises for a standing ovation that has the grin on his face stretching from ear-to-ear. It looks the same to Emma. Kate and Ethan and the rest of their students insist that he and Emma stand on stage with them all, each of them very obviously going for dramatic effect, so he takes Emma’s hand and walks around the front aisle of the auditorium until they can walk up the side steps and have their thirty seconds of gratification and self-indulgence in doing a good job.

Killian doesn’t let go of Emma’s hand.

More importantly, Emma doesn’t let go of his.

She does eventually when they start cleaning up for the night, parents and students helping out as they all eat the pizza that Liam decided to donate for the night. Attached to the top box was a note telling Killian to stop being a coward and to ask Emma out, and thankfully, he snatched that piece of paper away quickly before stuffing it in his pocket. His older brother never does seem to stop finding ways to embarrass him while also being a good person.

Amazing how that works out.

Eventually the sets are put away yet not dismantled and every pizza but one has been devoured, so Killian grabs it and his car keys before walking out of the auditorium and down the hallway to the exit only to find Emma waiting for him. Or, at least, that’s what he thinks.

“So,” she starts, looking up from her phone to smile at him, the black dress she has on far too distracting, “you want to go get that glass of rum?”

“Swan, are you asking me out on a date?”

“I’m asking you to a bar.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking?”

Emma chuckles, shaking her head from side to side as she steps forward so that they’re eye-to-eye, her heels aiding that. “I knew you’d be old-fashioned, so I’ll tell you what, you can pay. And drive.”

“Why, love, you do flatter a man.”

-/-

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma mumbles, her hand placed on his thigh, innocently and yet distracting all at once, “you were in the Navy in England? How the hell did you get here?”

They’ve been at the Rabbit Hole bar for two hours now, only one drink each somehow, and he swears that they haven’t stopped talking this entire time. Obviously, he’s gotten to know Emma better over the last month of him spending so much time with her, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t her sharing stories of the time she spends with her friends or talking about how she knew Mary Margaret through Mary Margaret’s husband. It wasn’t her telling him that she got into music because the foster mom she had as a teenager was a music teacher and taught Emma to play several instruments. It wasn’t him getting to know her on a level more intimate than the pleasantries that all teachers share at school.

It wasn’t this.

And it definitely wasn’t Emma asking him about his life with more interest than she usually shows.

Or the casual touching that precedes flirting. It may have been awhile for him, but he does know flirting when he sees it. Emma Swan flirting with him makes his stomach twist and his heart pound.

“Eh,” he sighs, reaching up to scratch behind his ear out of nerves, “so I joined the Royal Navy at eighteen. It gave me money and purposed and an education. I’d always been interested in the theater as a kid, so I figured I’d study that and possibly become a teacher after I retired. I simply didn’t expect to retire so soon.”

“Well, why did you?”

The age-old question.

“A broken heart. I’d been dating someone, Milah, for a few years, and I bought a ring to propose to her. I did propose, actually, but she turned me down.” He chuckles the words bitterly with a forced smile on his face. “She’d slept with someone else and had hidden it from me, but I guess the ring made her unable to hide it anymore. So, yeah, that wasn’t great, and when my contract ended later that year, I looked into moving here to be with my brother and his wife, who is American. It was a hell of a lot of paperwork and interviews, but I like being here. It’s relaxing.”

The smile on Emma’s face is soft, apologetic, and he can tell that she wants to say that she’s sorry, to show him pity like everyone always does when he shares that story. It’s something he’s grown used to, but he doesn’t want Emma’s pity.

“I was engaged,” she blurts out instead, pulling her hand back from his thigh to grab her wine from the bar top and take a small sip. “Obviously, I’m not anymore, but I was, right before I started to work at Storybrooke. That’s why I transferred. That’s also why I may have been a bit of a bitch to you.”

“You?” he mock gasps. “You being a little rude to me? Never.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to apologize.”

“You’re not very good at it.”

“I will punch you.”

“So aggressive.”

“You like it,” she teases, flipping her hair over her shoulder so that his eyes are drawn to the dip of her clavicle before he looks back at her eyes.

“Perhaps I do,” he admits quietly, the sounds around him quieting for a moment as he begins to lean in, begins to get closer to Emma, but he stops himself halfway and pulls back. He’s not ruining this moment by making a brash decision. He won’t.

“Uh, um, anyways,” Emma stutters while blinking, her fingers tapping against the glass. She uncrosses her legs, and he nearly falls backward when her calf brushes against his. Smooth, Jones, smooth. “So, I was engaged to a guy that I worked with, had the ring on my finger and a wedding date booked, and one day I went to his classroom at lunch to ask him if he wanted to eat the rest of my pasta only to see him making out with the vice principal. Which obviously sucked a lot for me, personally, but also it was super inappropriate. Neal always insisted that we don’t show affection at work. No one even knew it was him I was engaged to, and I guess I didn’t realize why he was that way until I found out he was dating two women at one school, which really took him to a whole new level of shitty.”

“He sounds like a real bastard.”

“Yeah,” Emma laughs, a bitter smile on her face, “yeah he was, but it’s for the best, you know? I’m not glad that it happened, but I’m glad that I found out when I did. I can’t imagine having actually been married to him. So, when I met you and you were all charming and helpful as well as a fellow teacher, I was done with helpful and charming men and kind of took it out on you.”

“You find me charming then?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“I do so love a compliment.”

“Stop,” she chuckles, gently slapping his arm. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“Charming and weird are the two words I’d use to describe me, though. But, yeah, Swan, I’m glad you didn’t marry him. I’m glad I didn’t marry Milah. Things tend to work out for the best.” The small, shitty band that’s playing in the corner of the bar shifts tunes to a slower song, one he doesn’t recognize, and an idea pops into Killian’s mind. “So now that feelings have been shared,” he croons, standing up from the stool and holding out his hand toward Emma, “will you do me the honor of allowing me to have this dance?”

Emma arches her brow once more, something she might as well do as often as he does, but the quizzical look doesn’t match the grin on her face. “What if I don’t know how to dance?”

“Well, darling, I know for a fact that’s not true since we just danced in a high school play together for a month, but even if it was, luckily for you, you have a partner who knows what he’s doing. So, come on, let’s go.”

She hesitates, but it’s only for a moment before she’s placing her hand in his and rising from her stool, the two of them going to the half-empty dance floor. It’s more swaying than dancing with how close Emma is standing, one of her hands wrapped around his neck while the other is intertwined with his and resting on his chest. His free hand is on her hip, fingers itching to dip lower, but he doesn’t. He won’t.

Not yet.

Not until Emma steps more into his space, the curves of her body aligned with the lines of his, and he can feel the way her heart is beating in her chest. Or, really, that might simply be his.

“Emma,” he hesitantly whispers. Her lips are close enough to his that he can feel his mouth move over hers when he talks, but it’s not enough. He’s kissed her before, and that definitely wasn’t enough. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, she tilts her head up toward his and hesitantly brushes her lips over his, staying still until his mouth responds. In reality, her lips feel the same as they did every single time they had a moment like this on stage, but it’s different. It’s different in the way that she moves against him, in the way that she tugs on his bottom lip and on the way that he tugs on her upper one. It’s different in that there is no acting here, only honesty in the soft and gentle movements that have him sighing into her mouth.

It’s different in that this is truly Emma kissing him, and in the three years that he’s known her, he never could have imagined this. And if he did, reality is so much better.

When they pull back for air, he can feel the smile on Emma’s face as their foreheads press together, and he’s sure that she can feel the giant grin painted on his lips.

“You all good, Emma?”

“Yeah,” she laughs, kissing him again, “except it’s very weird for you to taste like rum instead of toothpaste.”

Killian barks out a laugh before moving his hands to cup her cheeks and smile down at her. “I like you, Emma Swan.”

“Funny thing, I like you too.”

Monday morning, Killian pulls into the parking lot with Emma in his passenger’s seat and her hand resting on his knee.

They never picked up her car on Friday night.

When they get engaged a year later, Belle wins the betting pool on when the two of them would get together. Apparently, both the faculty and students started it on Emma’s fourth day of work at Storybrooke High.

Talk about a modern-day fairytale.

[snarkandsarcasmftw]

2020

Uh oh, it’s time for the cranky smol one to get sappy af. Prepare yourselves. Because yeah, I’m gonna get sappy.

This past year has been… To put it bluntly, it was one hell of a ride. I moved from state to state after spending the past two years taking care of my mother, I lost important people in my life (some through my own stupidity, others simply because they showed their true colors) and I lost a pet that for 13 years roughly, was a huge part of my life. I rescued a cat. I feel like this past year taught me a lot but the most important thing that it taught me was to be thankful for who/what I have in my life, because I might not always have these things/people.

Since there’s a loooot, holy shit so much.. I’ll put a read more.

REGRETS:

First of all, to the one person I’m no longer speaking to/following on here. I just know that you were a blessing in my life while you were around. I know we couldn’t ever really be close friends like we were before everything played out, but I truly hope the best things in life happen to you. You’re a good person, always know that. I hope you’re happier now and I hope that you eventually find and embrace your own inner truth without anxiety or fear. 

Secondly, there were a few people who I misjudged/let go of this past year that maybe I wish I hadn’t. If any of you are reading this, I’m so so so so sorry. I don’t know what made me do it, but I know that I just… Felt like I wasn’t as good as any of you and like I never really fit in, so rather than make you all keep dealing with me, I did what I thought was best and cut the cord. I really wish I hadn’t and I know it’s probably way too late, but I really am sorry. You were great people and I really do miss our talks and stuff. I just felt like I was in the way, so I took myself out. Anxiety is a real bitch and while that’s not an excuse for me just going silent / blocking you guys, it’s the simplest truth. I was in a bad place for a while there and in my own head too much. I’m better now, but I’m fairly sure that it’s too little & too late. So, once again, I’m so so so sorry. 

NEW FRIENDS:

Oh god, where to start? I made so many new friends this year on this blue hell-site. So many. And I’m thankful for every single one of you even if I somehow miss your name. On that note,I’m sorry in advance if I do and I mean nothing by it. Also, these are in absolutely no certain order. If I tried to go alphabetically, I’d probably wind up messing it up.

@xladyxfatex I am so, so, so, so glad you sent me that meme and we started to talk. It has been so much fun rp’ing again, and I’m really enjoying getting to know you better. I love our rp and you’re such a sweet person. I can’t wait to see where this year takes us.

@writtingrose you are an amazing writer and you’re a down to earth and sweet person. I was moved by your Beautiful To Me series (it’s plus size reader, you guys MUST go read it.) and I’m so glad I reached out. I can’t wait to start our rp, if you’re still down for it. I love reading your writing and I can’t wait to get to know you better.

@komaniac I absolutely love your love for Kevin. I really don’t get to talk to you often, but I’ll see your Kevin posts and I’m like sitting on my side of the computer screen silently nodding. Your Kevin content is always making me smile. I love you for that, never change.

@rampagewriting… I can’t remember which of us reached out first, but girl. I am so so glad we’re friends. You’re an amazing and strong person and I love all your fics. I love opening our DM and yelling about things with you, whether it’s Zak Bagans ( we deffo need to go ghost hunting one day, tbh) or any of our other favorites. I’m so glad we’re friends and I hope that we get to be even better friends during 2020.

@the-ville-idiot Wren, I love you. Seriously, I love you. You’re always so bubbly and happy and like… I legit enjoy our random conversations. We have a lot in common.

@doedreamss Ashley, I mean Doe. You’re such a sweetheart and I wish I had half the life experiences you have. I love you. I enjoy talking to you about certain cowboys and certain bad boys. I love your writing, I wish I wrote more like you did, tbh. I hope you never change and I hope we stay friends. If you ever need to talk or want to talk, you’re always welcome in my DM’s.

@robwiethoff I LOVE LOVE YOUR LOVE FOR HANGMAN. I aspire to love something/someone as much, tbh. I know I’m probably annoying af, but honestly, I enjoy talking to you. I hope to get to know you better, you’re a sweetheart. I love reading your writing / hearing your ideas and honestly, just.. I send you hugs.

@adamcolesteeth I’ve really enjoyed talking to you and I genuinely thank you for the random fake fic title prompts, because I’ve really had a blast doing them. I loved your Christmas Luchasaurus fic, it was so much fun to read.

@hardcorewwetrash we may not like the same football teams, ( roll damn tide, lol) but I honestly love to read your posts. You’re a real person and the world needs more of those. You speak your mind. I honestly wish I could just do that sometimes. It’s been so fun talking to you / seeing your posts on the dash. 

@country-believethat-gallowaywwe AHHHH. I LOVE THE TALKS WE HAVE ABOUT DREW. Also, thanks for all the picture inspiration you send me that one time I really, really, really needed it. I think you’re a sweetheart and I hope to get to know you better / have more talks in the future.

@twdeadfanfic I love your fics, first of all. You’re an amazing writer and you blow me away with each new one you post. I know we don’t get to talk often, but I enjoy talking to you. 

@heel-rollins you are a sweetheart. I love talking to you and I wish we got to talk more, tbh. 

@hamstxr I love your posts, they always make me smile. I wish we get to talk more and you seem like a really sweet person. 

@kittysilver86 Kitty, I love you. You’re a positive and sweet person and your writing is so good and so fluffy yet dirty, I love it. I love Ava as a character and I love these little universes you make up. Your posts always make me smile and honestly, I just wanna hug you. I really enjoy being friends with you even though we don’t get to talk often.

@schizoauthoress You’re a really kind person. I really enjoy your posts on my dash and I love the talks we’ve had there. If you ever wanna talk my DM’s are always open. You seem really down to earth and really open and I love that. I hope to get to know you better this year.

@vonschweetz Von, I am so proud of you. You’ve been through a lot and you went above and beyond to rise out of it all and you’re thriving now. You’re a huge inspiration and you’re so freaking sweet that like.. If anyone ever tried to hurt you, I’d probably give them these hands. I love talking to you, I love looking at your edits and I really, really, really love your fics. You always make me smile.

OLD FRIENDS:

@helluvawriter you’re a kind person and I love you so much. You’re a really amazing writer and you’re always so down to earth. You were the first friend I made in the wrestling fandom way back when and even though we don’t get to talk much anymore, I love you and I love our talks when we do. You’re an amazing mother. I hope if I ever get to be a mom, I’m like you. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@andie01  holy shit.. You’re so much fun to talk to. I love that you’re as blunt as me and that we can just DM back and forth about total randomness. I love Beasts, it’s one of my favorite fanfictions of all time. I love you so much. Like.. you’re an inspiration to me and i don’t think you realize that. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure First of all, you’re an amazing mother. And I am so happy for you and your little family! I love talking to you, even if we don’t get to talk that much anymore, I enjoy our talks when we do. You’re going to get me to write Alpha!Ethan Carter III yet, I promise. It’s coming. You inspire me and I love the random things you send me to look at. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@kayah16 I wish I was half as creative as you. I love reading your one shots and I love you. You’re a really amazing and kind person and honestly, the world could use more of that. There are so many times I’m having an absolute shit day and I log on and you’ve sent me a recipe or tagged me in something that makes me smile. I wish I could hug you. I hope I can help you as much as you’ve helped me. If you ever need me, I’m here. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@missjenniferb I love the random thirst tags and the dm’s at 1 am, they always make me smile. I love that you tag me in Bucky things now, because that’s kinda how I got so deep into him. I blame you for that. I really have so much fun talking to you because it’s like… the lengths of our dirty minds combined, and i live for that. You always make me smile, I just hope I make you smile too. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@heelsamizayn you’re also another person I started to talk to way back when and honestly, I really, really, really love you. You’re a sweet and blunt person who isn’t afraid to say what she thinks. I love talking to you, whether it be about any of our thirsts or whatever we’re writing or random stuff that irritates us both during the day. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@bo0kitten I really love our talks. We like a lot of the same bands, and you always have these well thought out opinions / facts on things. I love seeing you on my dash and I really wish we got to talk more often. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@chasingeverybreakingwave BB you really didn’t think I was going to forget you.. Noooo. Never. I love talking to you and I love your posts / live blogs. You dragged me kicking and screaming into Jimmy Havoc and I love you for it. You’ve also gotten me into music that I hadn’t ever heard before too. Never change, bb! I’m so glad we’re friends.

@calwitch MOM HI! I love you. And I will totally let you adopt me. You’re kinda stuck with me now. I love your posts and you never fail to encourage me when I need it most. You’re a sweet person and totally down to earth and open. Some of your comments on my fic posts have given me that little nudge when I needed it most and I can’t thank you enough for that. You’re an awesome and fun person and I love that you don’t hold back on anything. I’m so glad we’re friends.

@markostuntthesehoes I absolutely adore you and I love your writing. I love our talks, the things we’ve bounced back and forth over DM’s. You’ve gotten me to really appreciate people that I wasn’t sure about before talking to you. Your posts always make me smile and you’re an absolute gem. I’m so glad we’re friends.

[summahsunlight]

This Way Became My Journey, CH. 16

It figured that they had to crash land on the most desolate, resourceless planet in the system. Chakotay had spent nearly an hour trying to find water and something to eat besides the emergency rations. At least he had been able to find the stones to help them keep warm by simply heating them with phaser fire. Of course keeping warm would be pointless if they did not find water because they wouldn't survive long without it.

So, he kept pressing onward, talking to Sarah via their personal communicators. He would have preferred to stay with her to monitor her condition, however their need for water took president. Keeping her talking gave him at least the peace of mind to know that she was a wake for the time being and had not fallen into a state of unconsciousness. Since he had started out on this trek he was certain he had heard her life story, but it was the only thing he could think of to get her talking and keep her talking.

Every time that she would nod off, he would press her, yelling until she responded, fearing each time that it was the final time she would respond. It was hard to keep track of what she was saying since he was climbing into higher, rocky terrain, but as long as he heard her voice, he knew she was still with him.

At first he had hoped to find a way off the mountain side they had crashed against but that soon went out the window when he realized that they were wedged onto a cliff and the only way down was to climb up.

The sun was getting low in the sky and Chakotay knew that he didn't have a lot of daylight left. Suddenly his foot sank into something wet and cold. Looking down he realized he had stepped into snow. Snow, he thought with excitement, could be melted down into water. He quickly gathered up what he could in the storage containers he had salvaged from their damaged shuttle. Now, if only there was food to go with the snow, but given the climate and conditions of this planet, he was pretty sure that there was nothing of nutritional value here. The ration bars were going to have to do until Voyager found them.

"Commander," Sarah's voice came over their open comline. "Are you ever going to tell me your life story?"

He had to chuckle at the sarcastic tone in her voice. "Alright, you have a point. I've been making you spill your guts here about your life, it seems only fair that I do the same." Anything to keep you awake, keep you talking so I know you're alright. "What do you want to know?"

"Why did you join the Maquis?"

Leave it to her to come up with the most difficult question. There was a time it seemed like the answer was simple, at least to him anyways, but the more he thought about it, and he had thought about it a lot the past three weeks, he found that the answer was indeed complex. There had been many factors leading up to his joining the Maquis; the Federation's cold shoulder when it came to their colonies they had sacrificed in the name of diplomacy; the death of countless innocent people, the death of his father. "Because Starfleet was more inclined to listen to the Cardassians then their own people," he finally answered her. "However, I think the real reason was I was grieving the loss of my father."

"Funny how the death of a loved one can push you to do things that…you aren't proud of," Barrett replied.

"I wouldn't say I was ashamed of joining the Maquis," Chakotay retorted. "I was angry at Starfleet, yes, and would I have resigned my commission if my father had not been killed, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure Lieutenant. But enough about my joining up with the Maquis. My turn to ask a difficult question: Why did you turn to drugs?"

"Simple, I was stupid."

"I'm not letting you off that easily."

"I didn't know what else to do, really. My brother had turned his back on me and I had no where else to go, nothing to fall back on. I guess I found it weak that a counselor would need counseling. The drugs helped me relax; help me forget for a while that my father had been killed in some terrible accident. But eventually I just had to take more and more until I missed an important debriefing about the mission to study the Borg and I was arrested for dereliction of duty when they found me passed out in my office."

Chakotay closed the last storage container he had filled with snow. "We're more a like then I thought, Lieutenant."

"How so, Commander?"

"We both tried to run from our grief and it only gave us problems in the end. You were yanked from a promising career at headquarters, and I was tagged a traitor of the Federation," he replied, standing up and starting to make his way back down the mountain side. It wouldn't take nearly as long to climb down as it would up and already he could see that it was going to be easy going.

"I think you took a more noble route then I did, going to fight for something you believed in," Barrett said. "Starfleet was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, I read it in your personnel report on my way to the Badlands. If you had helped them gather up more of the Maquis they were willing to give you your commission back. I'm not sure if they were willing to give me the same treatment."

"They allowed you on this mission," Chakotay replied.

"Captain Janeway had a lot to do with that," Barrett replied. "My area of study was terrorism, and no offense or anything, but many saw the Maquis as terrorists. She needed someone that…understood how they thought. But…I have to wonder how much Captain Dawson played a factor into my being assigned to Voyager."

"Captain Dawson?"

"My lawyer, Captain Janeway's brother-in-law," Barrett answered, softly.

Now there was a connection to Janeway that Chakotay didn't know the young woman had. He didn't believe that her relation to Barrett's lawyer had anything to do with the young counselor being assigned to Voyager, however. So far he had learned that Kathryn Janeway liked taking risks, she had taken one on him and his crew. Janeway had to have taken her service record prior to the court martial into consideration, just like she had taken his when choosing him for her new first officer. "I didn't even realize that the Captain was married."

"What, did you think the children came out of thin air?"

Good point, Chakotay thought, but she's never mentioned a husband, to me at least. "What about her husband? What does he do?"

There was a strange moment of silence that passed between them and for a brief second he worried that perhaps she had passed out from the blood loss. "He was a scientist," Barrett finally replied.

"Was?"

"I'm not sure if I have the…right to be speaking to you about this," Barrett finally said, ending the line of questioning. "Whatever happened to speaking to me about your life? Has that suddenly gone out the window? I'm interested to know about you Commander, and, well, the whole reason that we were put together on this mission was to get to know each other better, wasn't it?"

He should have known that she would have seen through Janeway's ploy. "Well…there's a lot to tell about me I suppose, it's just where do I begin?"

Thirty minutes later as he reached the shuttle, he had told her about his sister, his cousin in Ohio, a trip he had taken with his father when he was a teenager, how he had always felt trapped between two worlds. She had listened patiently, like a good little psychologist would, adding her two cents every now and then.

When he arrived back at the shuttle, the sun had already set and he could feel that the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees, and was only going to continue falling. He set up the stones he had gathered in an arc around the base of the hatch and pulled out his phaser. With it set on a low setting he fired it at the stones which absorbed the energy and began to glow orange and let off a nice heat. With their little make shift fire and the blankets they could survive here for a couple of days at least.

He hoped that Voyager found them before then however. Chakotay wasn't sure how long Sarah could hold out, needing the surgery to repair all the damage her body had taken in the crash. He himself was injured, with several cuts and one large contusion going up his right leg, however, he knew he wouldn't die from them.

"Here," he said, handing her a cup with newly melted snow in it. "Drink this."

"You found water on this hell hole?" she quipped, taking the cup from his hands.

He smiled, wearily. "I may have learned a few survival skills growing up." It was a good thing too, because quite frankly, he didn't know how long they were going to be trapped on this planet.

"Good morning, Captain."

Kathryn Janeway looked up at Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. If she didn't know him any better she would almost say that the remark had been sarcastic because she was thirty minutes late. She had Ava's separation anxiety to thank for that. Although, she had to admit, that it was getting better. Instead of clinging to Kathryn for over an hour today, the baby had only latched onto her for thirty minutes. Small steps, that's what Sarah Barrett had told when she had complained to the young counselor how frustrating it was. "Any report from Commander Chakotay this morning?"

"Negative, Captain," Tuvok reported.

Janeway didn't find it odd, but she had asked anyways hoping that there was something about how their first night on Karva had been. She was sure that she would hear something by the end of the day. "How are the repairs proceeding?" she asked, blue eyes settling on Tuvok's face. For the past two days they had been docked at one of Karva's space stations doing routine maintenance. They had been lucky that their new friends had allowed them access to the space station, or Kathryn wasn't sure how much longer her ship would be able to hold out on the power levels it had been working on.

"They should be completed by thirteen hundred hours," Tuvok answered.

She felt a frown form on her face. She had wanted the repairs to be done and over with so they could be on their way. "Any chance they could be completed before that?"

"I supposed it could be arranged," Tuvok replied, "however, if we are to be thorough, I would not recommend pushing up the completion time, Captain."

Of course you wouldn't, she thought, amused. "Well, as soon as they are done, set a course for Karva. By then we should have heard from Chakotay on how things are going." Tuvok gave her a small nod of his head and she turned about, moving down towards the command station. It seemed strangely empty without Chakotay and Sarah Barrett there and she prayed that their mission was going well. It could mean safe passage through a long stretch of space if it did.

"Captain," Harry Kim said from Ops. "The Karvaian Prime Minister is sending us a message. He wants to know when to expect our diplomatic party."

Janeway turned her head to look at the young ensign with a confused gaze. "Commander Chakotay and Counselor Barrett should have been there already."

"He claims that they didn't show up," Kim replied, anxiously.

She stood, moving towards his station. "What's their last known coordinates?"

"The last time they reported in, they were about an hour from Karva," Harry commented, raising his dark eyes to his captain. "That was almost twenty-four hours ago, ma'am."

Janeway lowered her head, gripping the railing tightly. Then, with a determined look she spun about on her heal and gazed at the back of Tom Paris. "Mister Paris," she said, firmly, "set a course according to Chakotay's last report, maximum warp. Harry, inform the Prime Minister that we will investigate what happened to our people and thank him for notifying us. Our meeting with him will just have to wait a few days, I suppose."

Both Paris and Kim responded with a "yes ma'am."

"Captain, I should not have to remind you, that repairs are not complete," Tuvok spoke up from tactical, like she knew he would.

"I understand that Tuvok, we're just going to have to continue them en route," Janeway replied. "Our people could be in trouble, and I'm not waiting around for routine maintenance to be completed. That could mean life or death for Commander Chakotay and Counselor Barrett."

Slumping down in her seat, she heaved a heavy sigh. This was not the way that Kathryn had wanted to start her shift. Having Ava throw, what was becoming a ritual fit, that morning had been a rocky enough start, but now two of her officers were missing. They just could not afford the loss of another two officers, and not this early in their journey home.

She rubbed her temples thoughtfully for a moment. Perhaps they had run into some maintenance trouble themselves and been forced to set down on a planetoid before they reached Karva. No, no, they would have contacted Voyager, she concluded. Maybe they had miscalculated the time it was going to take them to get there and were actually touching down now as she sat there worrying about them. The Prime Minister would be back on the comline telling her that they had arrived and to stand down their search. But even as that thought crossed her mind, she quickly dispelled it. The Prime Minister had waited twenty four hours to contact her, meaning he had waited to see if perhaps her officers were simply late.

Could they have deviated from their flight plan that much that they were this late? She thought it highly unlikely. Something was wrong and she was sure whatever they found was probably not going to be good news.

"Captain, I've analyzed Chakotay's last known cooridnates and I think I can project their flight path," Kim said, breaking her concentration. "If my calculations are right, they would have crossed out of Karvaian borders for approximately an hour."

"Tom, adjust our course to match," Janeway ordered, standing up. "I'll be in my ready room."

Getting up rather quickly, Janeway exited the bridge leaving Tuvok in charge and retreated into the privacy of her ready room. Here she could think, perhaps get a grasp on all the information that she had just been forced to process. Like why did Chakotay's flight path take them out of Karvaian space? She had looked over the purposed course before they had left; it had cut a path through the outer rim of Karvaian space, close along the borders, but not that close. Had they run into trouble along the border? Is that what had happened?

Was the shuttle now in a million pieces and she had to find yet again replacement officers?

Sighing angrily, she fell onto the sofa. When we arrive at their last known coordinates we'll follow their ion trail. They can't be too far from their last known position, she mused, crossing her arms over her chest and peering thoughtfully at the glass coffee table. Can they?

Leaning back so her head touched the top of the sofa she realized how tired she was. She had not gotten a good night's sleep since, well since they had first been flung out here in the vast reaches of the galaxy. She constantly was worried about something, whether it was her ship or her children, there was something on her mind, nagging at her when she laid her head down every night. Lately it had been Ava's inability to let her mother go in the mornings when Tal Celes came to watch them. But now, she knew she had something to add to the constant bombardment of worries; the whereabouts of her first officer and counselor.

Tom Paris pulled open a panel to access the navigational array and sprawled out onto his stomach to get a better look. One hour of flying at maximum warp had burnt out the power relays. Janeway hadn't been happy when he had to slow the ship to impulse. In fact, Tom was certain that he could see steam coming out of her ears when she had burst from her ready room demanding a report. Tom had instantly volunteered, much to the dismay of B'Elanna Torres, to repair the power couplings.

It wouldn't take long and it got him off the bridge. The main center of command wasn't the place to be at the present time. It was clear that the stress of their situation was wearing Janeway down but no one had the guts to tell her to take it easy.

"What are you doing?"

"Jesus!" Tom cursed, dropping his tool on top of his hand at the sudden appearance of Michael Janeway.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Tom shook his hand out, where the tool had dropped, and looked at the kid. "Next time, you might want to warn me. Why aren't you with your nanny anyways?"

Michael shrugged his shoulders. "Ava was crying. She's awfully loud and it hurts my ears. Tal's too busy trying to get Ava to stop crying to notice me gone."

Great, this kid needs a permanent security detail, Tom thought as he picked his tool back up and began to work. "You know kid, you ain't half bad. I used to sneak away from my baby-sitters all the time when I was your age. Used to drive my father crazy."

"Because you left your nanny?"

"Because I broke the rules. He loved rules."

"Mama likes rules," Michael said. "She gets mad when I break them. Why are rules so important, Lieutenant Paris?"

Of all the people to ask, the kid had chosen him. Tom stopped what he was doing and looked the boy in the eye. Dark brown hair was messy from probably climbing through the Jeffery's Tubes and his little rounded face reminded him of Janeway. "Well, if we all didn't follow rules...things would be a little crazy around here," Tom said, thinking, if they aren't already crazy around here. "Rules make sure we're safe."

"Is that why you were in jail? Because you broke the rules and weren't safe?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking," Tom replied getting back to his work.

"Why didn't Mama put the Maquis in jail? They broke the rules," Michael said.

"Well, she had her reasons."

"They don't like it here," the boy said, plopping down onto the floor next to Tom.

Tom closed his eyes for a moment praying for a little bit of extra strength. The kid was making it hard for him to finishing the repairs that Janeway was ready to throttle someone if they weren't done. "We're in a... unique... situation. Your mother did what she thought was best for her crew and to make sure that we find a way home."

Michael looked at him pensively. "Are we really that far from home?"

"Afraid so."

"Mama feels bad," Michael said. "She doesn't tell me, but I know. She feels bad that we're far from home."

Tom finished what he was doing and went to close the panel. "Your mother didn't have an easy choice to make." He fastened the panel and turned to glance at the boy. "Everyone feels bad about what we had to do."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do they feel bad? We helped people."

Leave it to a child to simplify something so complicated. Tom smiled gently and reached out and ruffled his hair. "You know something kid, when you look at it that way, it's hard to feel bad about what we did." He gestured that it was time to go.

As they stood up and made their way back to the turbo lift Michael slipped his small hand into Tom's. "Are we friends now?" the boy asked, looking up at him in admiration. Tom had never seen anyone look at him that way, never in his life. It made his heart swell with emotions.

"Yeah," he rasped out finally. "We're friends now."

[ladynestaarcheron]

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Two

hi everyone!! thank you all so much for the amazing onslaught of support you gave me for the first chapter!! I was totally overwhelmed!! 

so you can read chapter 2 of like pristine glass on ff.net or ao3, and chapter one is here!

enjoy!

(oh and some lovely people asked me to tag them! @humanexile @skychild29

@rhysandsdarlingfeyre there you go!!)

---

October 14 - 4 years after

Years ago, before she had children, in a different body, Nesta didn’t know there was a difference between quiet time and quiet time alone and just being by herself. In her first years as Other, she found she favored quiet time alone, but could only find it at the bottom of a glass. Now, as a mother she tries not to dwell on any of the three, because she rarely experiences them.

There’s always someone making noise in the background. Generally shrieking, mostly with laughter, though, for which she is eternally grateful. There are times when the noise is of pain, which never fails to rend her soul in two. Sometimes there is silence, which nearly always sends her into a panic and frantic searches.

Rarely, when she’s lucky, if she’s lucky, she gets a quiet moment. Quiet time, not by herself. With three tiny angels. All blessedly, miraculously, asleep.

Simultaneously.

This isn’t free time, Nesta knows. She’s got plenty to do. But she takes a moment to just gaze at her children, sleeping on their respective beds, unaware of the world around them.

Avery, her eldest, stirs a bit, and Nesta’s heart does, too. But she settles soon after, moving a lock of her deep brown hair--Nesta’s hair--out of her face.

Nesta knows she can gaze in wonder at her triplets the whole day through, but she knows that’s a luxury for another day. So she bends down to kiss Avery on her forehead.

“Good morning, ladybug,” she whispers to her.

Avery groans a little and writhes under her covers. Nesta laughs; another thing she bequeathed her daughter.

Nesta makes her way to Nicholas’ bed, and she lightly runs her fingers over his stomach as she kisses him. He giggles as he wakes up, opening his eyes and smiling widely. “Good morning, Nicky,” she says to him.

“Good morning,” he says, stretching out the vowels as he always does, in his sing-song tone. Nesta smiles again at his Gilameyvan accent. She knows her children can mimic hers, and they generally do, when they spoke to her, but they always sound Gilameyvan when they chatter amongst themselves or to their fellow townspeople.

When she makes it to Ollie’s bed, he’s already awake, as she knew he would be, his brother and sister’s early morning antics having roused him. “Good morning,” she says to him.

Ollie reaches up to kiss her cheek, as well. He doesn't say anything. She doesn’t expect him too.

“All right,” Nesta says, standing up to leave the room. “Brush your teeth first. Then come downstairs.”

Nesta knows it useless even as she says it. Nicky never brushes his teeth before coming to breakfast, and sure enough, he grabs her hand and bounds down the stairs with her.

He’s babbling somewhat coherently, and Nesta joins in when necessary, most of her mind focused on breakfast. Ollie doesn’t eat enough in the mornings, she thinks, but she’s not sure if that’s just because he isn’t hungry. She wonders if she should take him to see their family healer, a female recommended to Nesta by the female who delivered the children.

But if she does take him, she’ll have to ask Zeyn to watch the other two. Perhaps he can pick them up from their nursery, if he leaves work early tomorrow. Or perhaps she’ll bring them all in to work with her and leave Avery and Nicky there with him? She’ll discuss it with him today.

“And I would like to go the store sometimes,” Nicky is saying.

“Oh?” she says. “What store?”

“Just for some groceries.”

“What groceries do you need.”

“I need some oranges.”

“You need some oranges?” she says to him. “I think that can be arranged.”

“I would also like to go to another store sometimes,” Nicky starts again, and Nesta half-listens to him, but now she’s mostly thinking about how Avery needs to drink more orange juice, but she will only do so out of a specific purple cup, and perhaps she should send that cup in along with her to nursery, perhaps that would be better than having the cup her at home.

“Mummy,”says Nicky, cutting into her thoughts. “Is Zeyn coming to our house?”

Nesta turns around to face him. Her expression is neutral. “Do you want him to?” she asks, placing a plate of pancakes in front of him.

“Yesh,” he says through a mouthful of sugarberries. He swallows. “Because he’s going to show me something.”

“Something.”

“It’s a secret.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. Zeyn is always making up secrets to share with each of her children. It only mildly irritates her, though. She actually likes that they all feel comfortable with him.

Well. Sometimes she likes it. Other times it scares her.

And that is one thought Nesta will not let herself wander towards. Because it’s another routine day in Sugar Valley, one she worked to make perfect for her children’s safety and happiness. There’s nothing here to threaten that, and she certainly will not let herself sabotage it with her own fears and weaknesses and insecurities. Not for the past three years. Not today.

And so she continues on preparing her children for the day, entertaining Nicky’s babbling, and Avery’s too, when she joins them. She encourages Ollie to take part in the conversation. She wraps them all in their winter coats, taking care of their wings as she does so. And she walks them to the Sugar Valley Nursery: outside their standard red-roofed house, past the others that look more or less the same, into the town square, where Avery and Nicky shout their hellos to the various shopkeepers and townspeople they have seen every day of their lives.

And like every morning she drops them off, her smile grows wide as Avery and Nicky rush inside, one of them taking care to rush Ollie along in with them.

Some days she’ll stop and chat with another parent, generally Classia, a female who emigrated from Prythian, or Ramilya, a Sugar Valley native. But today she doesn’t. She’s got extra work to do today, and she doesn’t want to leave any till tomorrow.

So she turns her back on the nursery. It doesn’t hurt her nearly as much as it did on the first day, just over a year ago, but there is still a twinge of longing. She misses them whenever they’re not with her. Every morning.

As per routine, Nesta does not let herself think about the people who no longer miss her.

Nesta’s persona at home--Mummy, really, not Nesta--is quite different than who she is...well...anywhere not in front of her children.

Nesta will not lose her temper with her children. She made that decision long ago. And she’s kept true to her word. She doesn’t yell or grit her teeth or mock or threaten. She’d lost too much in her journey to holding them in her arms to do so. She’s a good mother. She has to be.

But only a few short hours at Sugar Book Manufacturing and Archiving, and all the patience Nesta has instilled in herself has evaporated.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta hisses, slamming a crate of books down on a table.

The male sitting at the table blinks up from his spining and meets her eye. He sticks his chin out. “Those are yours,” he says, his voice insisting.

“They’re short stories, Donmaz,” she says, her temper rising. “Do I look like I’m in charge of short stories?”

Maz folds his arms defiantly. “They’re romance short short stories. They’re yours.”

“Romance novels,” Nesta practically snarls. “Not short stories. Are you--?”

“Ah, let’s try for a little mercy on Maz this morning, Nesta. What do you think?”

Nesta shrugs off the hand on her shoulder and glares up at Zeyn. “Do I look like--”

“Like you’re very beautiful and very tired and overworked and you missed your morning coffee? Yes, you do,” he says, grinning as he hands her said coffee.

Nesta glowers at him, but takes the coffee. It’s her usual order from Samir’s, she knows.

“Take this over to Leyla, please, Maz,” Zeyn says cheerfully, pulling out two chairs at the table.

Maz gets up, shooting Nesta a glare which she returns. She sits down next to Zeyn when Maz is out of sight.

“He’s such an idiot,” Nesta says, venom in her voice.

“You just use up all your patience with Ava, Nicky, and Ollie,” he tells her, as he has many times before. There’s no judgment or malice in his tone, though. Only ever amusement and jest with Zeyn.

And kindness and sympathy and an eternal flow of patience he never uses up, not with her children and not with her.

Her gaze softens a bit. “I have so much work to do today,” she says.

“I know,” he replies. “Good find, though. I know you’re excited.”

Nesta allows herself a brief, small smile. She is excited. She’s been an archivist at Sugar Books for four years now, in charge of romance novels and anything human-authored. Obviously, most of her work focuses on the former, but Adil, their Head Archivist, has just brought it in a crate of human-authored novels from decades before Nesta was born. Her job is to restore them--reapplying ink if necessary, spining, applying new covers--and set a price. The other archivists participate in sales, but Nesta rarely does.

“No patience left for customers,” Zeyn likes to say.

Of course, Nesta is also in charge of reading them.

Nesta will always have a soft spot for human-authored books, no matter the genre, no matter if she even likes the book or not. Even reading something she doesn’t like...just feeling proof of human ingenuity and creativity and art in her hands...something she once thought she’d have to live completely without....

“Adil’s called a meeting for later today,” he says.

“What about?”

“Don’t know.”

“Is it going to run late? I have to be at the nursery--”

“At four,” Zeyn says, a lazy smile on his face. “You think I don’t know your schedule?” He lightly tugs on a lock of Nesta’s hair that’s fallen out her coronet.

His touch is warm and familiar. Comfortable. Nesta doesn’t shrug him away this time, and his fingers linger on her cheek.

Zeyn is a lesser faerie--though of course, they don’t call themselves that in Gilameyva. They uses the term nagil. The finger lingering on her cheek is warm, warmer than Nesta’s body is, and his skin is brown and spotted white, like a deer. He has ears like one as well, and horns. Antlers , he calls them, but Nesta disagrees. They curl twice around, planted in his white hair, which is short and has the same texture of fur. His legs are muscular and humanoid down to his knees, where they switch to those of a deer, too, and end in hooves.

It’s never bothered Nesta. She’s never differentiated between the different types of faeries--first, because she feared and loathed them all, and now, because her town is full of nagil, and these are the people who helped her build a home for her children.

“How are your new mystery novels?” Nesta asks.

“Coming along,” he says, drawing his hand away from her cheek and draping it over her shoulder. He likes to always be touching Nesta, she knows, and she lets him, sometimes. “I’m glad they’re getting more popular.”

He tells her about the influx of customers from Wintergreen Glen, how their town’s bookstore wasn’t keeping up with their sudden demand for one of his genres and one of Leyla’s as well (horror).

She listens to him. Mostly. As she does with her children.

She just has so much work to do. And more to do when she gets home. She really can’t spare a moment to think.

“Hey, you two,” Xeyale Mammadov, calls, walking in. “Come to the front of the shop. Adil wants to start.”

Some of the nagil, like Zeyn, don’t spark anything in Nesta’s mind. They are faerie, yes, but not so faerie that she could not have imagined them as a human. But some people make her remember that humans know nothing of faeries.

Xeyale and their sibling Amir, their twin marketers, remind her.

Born to a nagil people with no sex markers, they each have black eyes, with no irises or whites, and deep blue skin. Their similarities end there, though, with Xeyale being a few inches taller than Amir, a longer face, and darker hair.

“Do you know what it’s about?” Nesta asks them.

“Yeah. And it’s quite grim, I think. Morrisey’s not signing with us.”

“What?”

“Really?”

Xeyale nods. “And Adil knew when I told him.”

Nesta stands up and stalks into the front room of the shop, where most of her fellow staff are already gathered. Adil is sitting quietly, ignoring Miri, the archivist in charge of faerie-authored human fiction and historical novels, talking animatedly with Leyla.

Maz and and Amir are talking as well, Maz still working on the spine of one of his new nonfictions.

Nesta jerks her head upward. “Is it true we’re not publishing the next Morrisey novel?” she demands.

At this, everyone stops talking. Leyla’s mouth drops open.

“What?”

“How can he do that?”

“Don’t we have a clause?”

“Is that true, Adil?” Miri says, in a calmer tone than the others, still sounding concerned.

Adil meets her warm brown eyes with his own near-black ones. “I’d prefer to wait until Hazar is here to discuss the matter.”

Hazar, their publishing agent--oh, yes, Nesta wants to hear what he has to say about this.

And after a few minutes of uncomfortable murmuring (mostly from Maz--“What about the clause?”), Hazar walks in as he always does: unhurried, dressed impeccably in ostentatious City fashion favored by the young, later than everyone, and completely oblivious. In this case, it’s to Nesta glaring daggers at Adil and Adil’s pointed look at the ceiling.

“Good afternoon, lovely people,” he says, practically chirping.

“Right,” says Xeyale, clapping their hands. “To business, yes?”

Adil finally looks at them, his staff. He meets each of their eyes, takes a breath, and says, “We have competition.”

The archivists and agents are all quiet for a few moments. Then Leyla says, “Well, sure.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Adil says. He purses his lips. Miri strokes his arm with her hand, but Nesta doesn’t have the patience for this.

“Out with it, Adil.”

“I mean...” he says, and he looks right at Nesta, “we have competition in Chokecherry.”

Nesta sees Zeyn frown. She doesn’t think he understands. But she does, and her heart sinks. Images in her mind appear like flashes: Ava spinning around in her new City dress, Nicky laughing at the tumbling classes he’s only just started, and Ollie finally talking to another child at the local pool without following his brother and sister.

“Chokecherry doesn’t do publishing, though,” Maz says.

Nesta rolls her eyes, the biting reply an easy outlet for her heartbreak. “They’ve clearly begun, Donmaz. And they’re stealing our clients.”

“Morrisey’s signed another contract,” Adil says. “With them.”

“I don’t understand how he’s allowed to do that with our clause,” blurts out Maz.

“For the Mother’s sake, Maz,” Nesta says. “The clause only prohibits him reselling the novel we published.

“Well, why didn’t we put in--”

“My fault,” Hazar says, and his face has fallen, for the first time since Nesta has met him. “I just...I never even thought...we have no competition. Not west of Anvernessa City.”

“I don’t want us to start blaming each other,” Adil says sternly, and he looks each of them in the eye. “Now, this is going to be a fight. But we are not going to lose. We have the best team of archivists, the best set of marketers, and the best publishing agent in Gilameyva. We have the support of the town. We have loyal authors who won’t even consider signing with Chokecherry, and we’re going to write new contracts for those who might leave. We’re going to do better in sales, and we’re going to be all right.”

The pep-talk is all fine and good, but Nesta needs to feed three children and she will not drop any of the new things she has finally been able to provide for them. “How are we going to do better in sales?” she says.

“We’re going to travel,” he answers. “We’re going to go to berry fairs and open booths up. Amalike Orchards has one in two weeks and I’ve got us registered.” Adil continues telling them about his plan, about how this is going to work for them, but Nesta can’t hear him. She can only see the three of them, her children, her babies.

If they lose publishing, they will lose archiving and marketing. They will lose money. There will be pay cuts. And Nesta cannot have one. She has nothing to fall back on. She has savings, sure, but not enough forever, and they’re mostly for the children when they get older, when they want to start their lives--

“You’re spiraling,” Zeyn mumbles in her ear.

Nesta tucks a stray lock back. She struggles to keep her voice low and calm. “I’m properly concerned.”

“Do you really think any of us are going to let Ava or Nick or Ollie starve?” he says. “Do you think I’m going to let anything happen to you?”

Nesta’s heartbeat quickens. She knows he’s waiting for an answer. “I’m worried,” she says.

“I know,” he says, voice still low. “But you’ll be all right. This whole town adores your children. People love you. Even if they’re a little scared. You make them feel safe. Do you really think we’ll let you lose your house?”

She’ll never have the blind faith in people he has. But that’s one of the reasons she likes him around her children. She hopes they’ll be more like that. Trusting. Hopeful.

“You’ll be all right,” he whispers again.

The meeting ends rather unceremoniously, with Adil clearly not knowing whether or not he should apologize. Which he shouldn’t. She knows, perhaps better than the whole staff, how hard he works for them. How much he gives them.

She’s not naive. She knows full well the more than generous deal she made with the bank on her home was not in thanks to her salary as a then four-months-employed archivist.

And so she says to him, mumbling, “Thank you,” as she leaves.

But Adil is like her, and so he barely nods his acknowledgment and hurries to do something very urgent in the back room.

“Nicky wants you to come for dinner,” Nesta says to Zeyn as they gather their coats when it’s time to leave. “So you can show him your secret.”

Zeyn grins at her. “Of course he does.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. “Are you coming, or are you breaking my son’s heart?”

“Breaking his heart, unfortunately,” he says, his voice in mock sorrow. Then he grins again. “Promised Maz I’d meet him at Jamal’s.”

“You’re ditching us for Maz?”

“I know you secretly love him. I’ll come over tomorrow.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Nesta says as they leave the store and head toward the nursery. “Can you pick up Avery and Nicky tomorrow? And just be with them for a bit? I need to take Ollie to the healer.”

Zeyn frowns, his ears quivering as his brow furrows. “What’s happened to Ollie?”

“He’s not eating.”

“Oh, Nesta, he’s three, he’s not starving himself. He’s just not hungry.”

“Well, Avery and Nicky eat a lot more than he does...”

They talk all the way to the nursery. It’s not so much bickering for Nesta as it is her thinking aloud and consulting, sharing her ideas and getting feedback in return.

Having Zeyn around is like having a partner, Nesta thinks.

“Zeyn!” Nicky cries when he spots them at the nursery. “Are you coming to my house?”

Zeyn scoops him up. “No, I’m sorry, little chief, I can’t today. But we’re going to be together tomorrow after nursery.”

“Can you!” Nicky cries out, then lowers his voice. “Can you show me our secret then?”

Zeyn lowers his voice to match Nicky’s. “I sure can.” He looks at Nesta and winks.

Nesta rolls her at him. “Hi, Ollie,” she says, crouching down to help him into his coat. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he says to her. His voice is small and high-pitched and he uses her accent when he talks to her.

“What did you do that was good?”

“I colored,” he says.

“You colored? That does sound good. Did you play with anyone?”

“Ava and Nicky.”

“Anyone else?”

“Emilia,” he says, naming Classia’s daughter, the female from Prythian.

“You did?” she says, smiling, pleasantly surprised.. “By yourself and Emilia or with your brother and sister.”

“By myself because Nicky was with Oz and Ava was with Ramil.”

Nesta beams at him. “Let’s get your sister. We’ll go home and eat something and maybe we’ll go to the park. Maybe we’ll pick up Emilia. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good!” Nicky says.

“All right, where’s Avery?”

It takes a little while longer to get back outside, and they split ways at the entrance to the housing section, with Zeyn turning around to meet Maz at whatever they’ve planned.

“Oh, and could you bring by some oranges?” Nesta calls after him.

He waves to show he heard her and she nods. She picks Nicky up, because he keeps walking to far ahead, and holds onto Ollie’s hand, because he keeps lagging behind, and says to Avery, “So, you were playing with Ramil today?”

“Yes, I was,” she says. “I was playing with him and with Nicky and Ollie and Kamrin and Zehra--”

“Avery, ladybug,” she says. “Can you tell me how Ramil’s doing?”

Ramil’s mother was alone, like Nesta was. They had just moved here. Nesta didn’t know from where, but she suspected Anvernessa City, Gilameyva’s capitol. She felt for the female.

Avery starts to tell her, but she doesn’t hear. Because her heart has stopped in her chest. Because Cassian is standing on her porch.

---

September 23 - Year of

Nearly two weeks Nesta had been in Illyria, and though she did not think it comfortable in the least, she had found herself a routine.

Every morning she would stay in her bedroom in Cassian’s home and ignore his incessant knocking until he left to go do whatever it was he did. After she heard him--felt him--leave, she made her way to the kitchen to find herself something to eat.

It appeared that she left whatever little appetite she had back in Velaris and she could not keep what she did manage to swallow down. Generally a bit of dry toast. Then she’d head back to her room and try to concentrate long enough on a book to read, until it was time for lunch. Then she again try to force something down, something warm. Try to read again. Until she fell asleep.

She skipped dinner. Cassian was always there for dinner.

And all this while trying to avoid the mind-splitting headaches.

She knew what was causing them. She needed a drink.

There was no reprieve. She wanted a drink every second; she did not care what kind. She could feel every drop of blood in her body circulating and every drop hurt. Every bit of her screamed for it, demanded it.

But she had searched the entire house top to bottom multiple times, even though she knew it was no use. There was no way Cassian would keep anything even similar to alcohol. Not while she was here. And certainly not if her sister had anything to do with it.

She had sent letters. They both had, Feyre and Elain. Cassian left them for her in the kitchen. They made her freeze the first time she saw them. She hadn’t realized what she was doing, but she was suddenly aware of herself holding them, moving to open them. She had dropped them just as suddenly and turned on her heel, back into her room.

She did not even let herself think what was in those letters. She couldn’t even bear to summon their images in her mind’s eye.

The throbbing pain in her head, in sync with her aching blood flow and the chokehold she felt beating at her throat never wavered, and she did not know if they ever would.

She was sitting in her room, book open in her lap, staring at the wall, when she heard him walk in the door.

He did everything so loudly...each step thundered through the house, shaking the desk a bit when he knocked on the door.

She did not know why he bothered. She knew he was home, obviously, and they both knew she wasn’t going to open the door. She did not enjoy their fights nearly as much as he clearly did, and she was too tired, anyway.

“Nesta, I know you’re up.”

That’s what he said each time. And it was such a stupid thing to say, it almost earned him a biting reply. I know you’re up.... She wasn’t hiding it! She wasn’t too scared to talk to him. She just could not have been bothered.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

She almost scoffed aloud.

“About... I’m going to Velaris.”

At that, she responded. Not to him, of course, not in words. But she jerked her head towards the door.

He was leaving to Velaris? He was...leaving her alone? Or would he send someone in his stead? Someone from Velaris to take his place here, or some other brute from Illyria?

Of course, if he was going to Velaris, that meant Feyre had summoned him. Feyre would not have some Illyrian stay in the house with her, would she? She hadn’t let Lucien, the Autumn male, talk to them when they were all staying in the House of Wind, and they had been friends....

“So you’ll be alone for a few days.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. A few days? Alone?

“I’m leaving now. I’ll be back before the week is over.”

And what day was it? She did not know, she was not keeping track. She only knew she had been here about two weeks because a few days prior had asked her if she wanted to do something special for their one-week anniversary.

Prick. Sometimes he made her angry enough to want to break out of the quiet she had sunken herself into.

“Something’s come up. It’s urgent.”

I don’t care, she almost said, but she bit her tongue.

“Well, I’m going now.”

She heard him leave down the hall into his own room. After a few minutes, she heard him reenter the hallway and linger for a few moments. She knew he was debating going to knock on her door again or just leaving.

He decided to go. She heard his retreating footsteps, and the front door open and shut. She was alone in the house.

Nesta closed her book slowly.

Being alone in the house did not mean very much to Nesta. She did, of course, prefer it over being with him. But it’s not like there was anything she did while he was gone.

Still, it seemed a shame to waste these precious few days...whole days with him gone, in Velaris. Hours of flight away.

Illyrians were a warrior race; these mountains clearly had nothing to offer her. But she might like a walk outside. And she might...possibly...find a tavern.

That thought was enough to set her in motion. She grabbed her coat and and made her way to the door.

She opened it and was startled by how cold it was. And the wind. Nesta had never lived in the mountains before, she hadn’t realized how windy it could get. And this was the northernmost area of Prythian. It was only September...how cold would it get?

If she was going to spend more time outdoors here, she would certainly need heavier clothes. But she had no money, and it would have to be a lot colder than the windchill for her to ask Cassian to take her shopping.

Cassian’s house was separate from the others in the camp. That’s what he called it, a camp. Not a town. Not even a village. A camp. A war camp.

The houses in the camp all circled the center. It was easy enough to find, and she remembered Cassian pointing it out to her as they flew in.

“It’s got all the stores,” he told her. “Clothes and food and...” he had trailed off, and standing in the center, Nesta knew why. It was because it didn’t have much else.

The clothing stores were clearly nothing like the ones in Velaris--they weren’t even better than the market booths in her little human village. Just looking in through the windows, she could see they sold things people would need for the cold in the mountains and fighting gear. Nothing fashionable or fun.

Nesta had liked wearing pretty things, once. She may not have cared for her appearance anymore, but she quite suddenly found herself missing just wanting something new.

The food shops weren’t much better. Nesta passed a few butchers’, two produce places, and a fish market. There was a place Nesta knew would serve drinks, but it was too big, it would be too crowded, too noisy. Not what she was looking for.

There were dozens of Illyrians around, of course. Nesta had forgotten how much they had feared her last time.

But she did not spare any of them a second glance. Most High Fae in Velaris had been frightened of her as well, and she learned how to let that roll off her, as well.

After a few more minutes of wandering, on the edge of the shops, she found it. It wasn’t clearly advertised as a tavern, but that was how she knew: Nesta had done a good job of familiarizing herself with shoddy, unmarked buildings.

Some of the Illyrians around her--mostly female, the males were probably off training for whatever war they planned to fight next--mumbled as she steered herself towards it, but she didn’t care. She was thinking only of her next drink.

Finally.  It had been far too long.

No bell rang as she entered, but the door creaked. The few patrons there were inside did not look up, but the male at the counter did. His chin set and he squared his shoulders. Summoning his courage to face her, undoubtedly. Ridiculous.

Nesta looked around as she approached him. The chairs were mis-matched, but mostly all red, and looked comfortable enough. There were two males in the far corner playing a card game--not one she recognized, but she was a fast learner. They had a plate of what looked to be thinly sliced roasted potatoes. She wasn’t sure how clean they were, but she always appreciated when a tavern offered something more than assorted nuts.

“What’s your house drink?” Nesta asked the male as she slid into a seat at the bar. All the abandoned gods, she was finally  going to have a drink. She hated even wasting time to ask! Because anything he would give her would be good enough.

“Not serving,” he said carefully. His eyes flickered around the room, but they kept darting back towards her.

“All right,” she said, frowning a little. The whole point of the house drink was that it was served all hours the establishment was open, but whatever, she didn’t care. “Do you have any white liquor?”

He shook his head.

“Ale?” she said.

He took a deep breath and a step back. “No, lady, I mean we’re not serving you.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes and angled herself forward. “You’re not serving me?”

The male took another deep breath. “Commander’s orders, lady.”

Nesta’s lip curled. Commander’s orders. She would kill him. She would kill Feyre and her stupid new High Lord. And most of all, she would kill for a drink.

As she opened her mouth, ready to shred into the barmale, an old expression her mother used to use floated into her mind: you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

“Look,” she said, and she tried to make her voice sound less... frightening. “It’s been a long few weeks. I just want one drink. Your Commander’s been hounding me... I’m sure you can understand.” She tried to laugh a little at the end.

Was she flirting? She didn’t know. She had never been good with any of that stuff, anyway. Feyre and Elain, sure. But she had never really engaged in a courtship.

With Tomas... she didn’t like to think about it. But in hindsight, it was clear to her that no, she didn’t really captivate him with any wit. And it made her feel stupid to think back on it, so she steered her mind back towards the bar.

“He’s not my Commander,” grunted the barmale.

“What a coincidence,” she said cooly. “Neither is he mine.” She drummed her fingers on the bar. “Come on, then.” She pulled a silver piece out of her pocket, grossly overpaying for one glass. “Just one drink... I’ll even buy you one.”

There. That was flirting, wasn’t it? And she was still beautiful, even if she did terrify him, and anyway, males liked feeling scared. Didn’t they? Wasn’t it part of the excitement for them?

That’s what had driven all those males in Velaris to her bed. She certainly hadn’t made any effort to romance them.

Would she take this male to bed? The thought of being with an Illyrian... Cassian would lose his mind, surely. Which had its appeal. But Nesta didn’t think she’d be able to stand it, either.

With a start, she realized she was thinking of doing something solely for the purpose of irritating Cassian. Just being in a tavern was making her feel better.

Well, perhaps not solely that purpose. Sleeping with a barmale would have other obvious perks as well.

“What do you say?” she tried to sound coy. She wagered she did not.

“I say get out,” he said, flatly. Then hurried to add, “Lady. Commander’s orders... as I said.”

Commander’s orders. Nesta clenched her jaw, angry thoughts swimming in her mind.

So he just brought her here, dumped her in his war camp, and cut off all resources to her only vice?

Nesta turned herself around, stiffly. There was no point in arguing with him. He was clearly more scared of Cassian than he was of her, and she did not have enough control of her magic to threaten him properly. There were not enough patrons to sneak in and convince one to buy her a drink--but later, tonight, perhaps, there would be. Yes, she would come again tonight, find someone, a group of males, eager to impress her and one another, and she would beat them at cards and they would buy her a drink.

She stopped at the door. There was a corkboard with papers pinned to it. Some notices in Illyrian, some in the common tongue. One in particular caught her eye. She turned back around to the barmale.

“What is this?”

“What?” he said warily.

“This,” she said, pointing at the flyer in question.

“Oh,” he said. “Ships out to Gilameyva every two months. You can ship something. Or you can book passage.”

“Gill-ah-may-vah?” Nesta said, trying out the new word.

“Aye, lady. On the continent. No more than a month by ship.” He looked at her expectantly, but still wary. “Will that be all? Lady?”

Her eyes trailed back to the paper. The date read for two weeks from then. The cheapest ticket price was...more than Nesta has on her.

Somehow she didn’t think Cassian would fund this.

She didn’t answer the barmale. She just left, and she ignored the Illyrians who pulled themselves out of her way as she stalked back to the house.

Her mind was focused on the paper. It advertised Gilameyva as the berry lands. There had been a drawing of a berry field on the bottom, with smiling faeries.

It sounded ridiculous, as a country. And the only lands she knew of on the continent had sided with Hybern in the war. And she didn’t have near enough money to buy her way there, let alone support herself when she arrived

But the idea was there. And it wouldn’t go away, not if she knew herself.

Which, she mused, she wasn’t quite sure she did anymore.

---

October 14 - 4 years after

Cassian has spent the entire flight from Velaris with Nesta’s likeness in his mind’s eye. In different forms. Her snarls from when he had known her in her father’s estate, her blank nothing in her crumbling apartment, and her eventual comfort in Illyria. Or so he thought. Before she fled.

And of course, he thinks of the Nesta he hadn’t seen. He imagines her wandering Gilameyva, pregnant and alone. Hungry and poor and scared and calling for him. Wanting to come back. Sending letters and crying when no response came.

Of course, that image is barely reconcilable with the Nesta he knew, in any of her states. And she has a home, as he knows from the Veritas. And she does look well enough, from what he was able to make out. A bit heavier than he remembers her, which is good.

But the fact remains. He has become everything he has raged against. He has abandoned his pregnant female to rear their children alone.

Rhys, he knows, will plead his ignorance of her pregnancy, but it doesn’t matter. Not to him, not as he sees her lost and afraid the whole way over to Sugar Valley. And certainly not as he finally sees her in person, when she turns the corner to her house, her--their--children in tow.

Everything he planned on saying falls out of his head. There is simply Nesta. Nesta, her hair in her usual coronet, framing her face, paler in Gilameyva’s autumn than it had been in Illyria’s. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, and then they are white, and then very red.

He can’t take his eyes off her. He can’t speak.

Until he hears a small voice say, “Who’s our neighbor, Mummy?”

And he looks down. At his son.

The one who spoke has black hair-his black hair--loose around his face, almost rectangular with the chubbiness of his cheeks. Wide grey eyes. Red lips. And Cassian realizes the combination of pointed ears and Illyrian wings, which he has only seen on two other people before, is in front of him threefold.

Nesta says, softly,  “He’s not our neighbor.”

Her voice. He has not heard her voice in four years.

“Does he live here?” pipes up the girl.

And Cassian nearly breaks down in tears when he takes in the girl. Because she is Nesta, with her sharp chin and sloped nose and full lips. The same brown hair. But she is slightly darker than her mother...and she has hazel eyes.

“No,” Nesta says, her voice still quiet.

He looks at the third child, the other boy. Slightly smaller than the other two, with a thinner face than his brother and darker skin than his sister and his eyes, again. His hair is lighter than any of theirs, more reminiscent of Feyre and Elain than Nesta.

They are all so perfect, beautiful, small, and Cassian’s about to fall to his knees and beg Nesta for her forgiveness when she locks eyes with him and opens her mouth and says, “Let’s go inside.”

“Can we say hello?” the girl asks her.

“You can say hello. Then go play upstairs.”

“Is he coming inside? Hello!” The greeting is directed at him when they reach the door.

Cassian tears his stare from Nesta and looks down to the girl--his daughter. “Hello,” he says, and by some miracle he manages to find his voice and sounds normal.

But then she smiles at him and Cassian doesn't know what to do because he can feel his heart break again--

“Inside,” Nesta instructs. She is seemingly unaffected, ushering the children in as she opens the door.

“I want to say hello too!”

“You can say hello, then go inside and let Mummy talk.”

“Hello! What’s your name?”

“Are you our neighbor?”

“Inside,” Nesta says firmly, and closes the door. She turns to face him.

Neither of them say anything.

Until he does. He says to her, “Hello.” And his voice is as soft as hers was with the children.

Her is not. “Why are you here?”

He blinks. Is she serious? “That’s all you have to say to me?”

“I said everything I wanted to four years ago. There’s nothing left to say.”

He supposes she’s right but it still hurts, cuts sharply into his heart.

“Are you all right?” he asks her. Because that’s surely all that matters here.

“Am I all right?” she asks, blankly, as if not understanding what he means.

“You and the children,” he says. “Are you all right?”

Nesta purses her lips--Mother, he’d forgotten she did that. “We’re...fine,” she says slowly.

“Let me help,” he says immediately. “What is it?” He prays it’s money, because he doesn’t know what else he can do. What if she says she can’t take care of them by herself anymore? Will they move to Velaris? Or will he have to move here? Or what if...what if she says she can’t at all anymore, and the children are his fault and he left her, really, because of the letters, and now he has to take care of them alone? He doesn’t know how. He’s nearly five hundred fifty years old and he’s never had children to take care of.

She looks up. Looks back at him. Her eyes tell him she hates this. “My...place of work,” she says carefully, gritting her teeth, “may be coming into some...issues.”

Relief hits him like a blast of cold wind. “I’ll give you money,” he says. “I’ll--you can have access to my entire account. It’s in Velaris’ bank--I’ll set it up so you can use it here.”

“I don’t need your entire account,” she starts to say.

“Please let me be in your lives,” he blurts out. “Please. Please, Nesta, sweetheart, please.”

Her eyes widen. He bites his lip. Please he wants to say again, but he doesn’t let himself.

She takes a deep breath. “I can’t...discuss this...right now.”

He seizes the meagre bone she tosses. “When can you?”

Nesta brings her hand to her face and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Um,” she says, eyes shut tight. “Tomorrow...noon.”

“Lunch?”

Nesta opens her eyes. He can’t quite read them, which is another twist inside. He used to know all her looks, all her poses. He used to name them.

“Sure,” she says. “Lunch. There’s a place in the square. Jamal’s. We can meet there.”

He sucks in a breath. This feels surreal. He’s making plans with Nesta for lunch tomorrow and his children are inside.

“Nesta--”

“I don’t care what you think of me, but I am a good mother,” she cuts him off. And there’s fire in her eyes, the fire that burned in a body far weaker than the one before him, burned all the way through he feared it would destroy her. “I am doing this for them, you understand?”

“I understand,” he says.

“Where are you staying?”

“I, ah....”

“There’s an inn. Just outside town. Sugar Valley Inn.” She gives him the address. “Tell no one who you are. Tell no one where you’re from. Do not mention my name. In any capacity. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Then...go. And...I’ll...see you. At lunch.” She looks at him for a moment, on the verge of something, but then pushes past him, enters the house and shuts the door firmly behind her. He can hear her turn four locks.

He knows he could stay here on her porch all night, so he throws open his wings and flies in search of the inn, before he hears one of their voices and breaks down the door, begging her to let him in.

He sees the street name Nesta gave him before he even realizes he doesn’t know their names.

---

Chapter Three

[sweet-teas-writing]

A Woman Scorned (Chp 1)

A/N: Hello beautiful people! The day is here! The debut of my new project. I've been working on this for a couple weeks now (all while juggling college), and as my gift to you, I will be giving you the first TWO chapters of A Woman Scorned. I will try to update a new chapter each week, and if I end up falling behind I will sure to keep you updated on that too! So sit back, get comfortable, and get ready for one hell of a ride!

A/N 2: Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, ask me! I'll be sure to include you!

Warnings: This story is meant for people aged 18+. Talk of verbal abuse/domestic violence, cheating, betrayal, masturbation (not yet), and SMUT (also not yet)

One: From the Beginning

Present Day

As I sat on my front porch, I could feel the warm sun on my skin. I could smell the fresh clean air. The waves knocked against the rocky shoreline. And inside our beach house, I can hear my grandchildren chatting and laughing with their grandfather. His loud, boisterous laugh echoed throughout the entire house, reaching me outside the screen door. I chuckled to myself as my daughter, Angela, scoffed in amusement next to me with a glass of iced tea in her hands.

"They're just like him, Mami," she told me.

"They sure are, mija," I told her back. "So full of life, ambition, and laughter. It was one of the many reasons I fell for your father in the first place."

"Do you regret how you met Dad?" Angela asked me.

I turned to look at her and shook my head. "No Angie. Your father was the first man to ever make me feel like I was something. My husband at the time wasn't giving me the love and attention that I deserved. Yes, I felt bad that it was under those circumstances that I got together with your father but I don't regret it at all."

"The way Dad looks at you, Mami… it's just beautiful." Angela sighed. "He always has the biggest smile on his face whenever he's around you. Like you're his light or something."

I laughed. "Well he always tells me that he regretted letting me go the first time. And once we were married, he wasn't letting me go. And here we are, 30 years, a beautiful daughter and three grandchildren later, still together and still happy."

The screen door came open and my husband Alastor came out followed by our grandchildren, Alejandro "Alex" (21), Alaina (19), and Ariana "Raina" (16), still laughing. He turned to Angie and me with a raised eyebrow and his signature smile plastered on his face.

"So what are you ladies talking about?" he asked us curiously.

"You as always," I snorted.

"Aw, it's nice that you think about me," Alastor chuckled before kissing my cheek. "I couldn't have asked for a better family: a loving wife, a talented daughter, and…" he turned to give our grandkids a big group hug "these adorable gifts right here."

"Aren't we a little old for group hugs, abuelo?" Alex asked in embarrassment but accepted the hug anyway.

"In my eyes, my boy," Alastor started. "No you are not. Ask your mother, she knows."

Angela laughed. "Always such the charmer, Papi. It's no wonder you ended up with Mom."

Alastor smiled down at me lovingly. "I wouldn't choose anyone else I would rather be with other than your mother. She will always be the love of my life. Despite the way we got together." He said that last line with a wink.

"Speaking of which," Alaina asked. "How did you guys end up together?"

"Yeah," Raina retorted. "Abuela, how did you and Grandpa Alastor meet?"

Alastor and I looked at each other before turning to our daughter for a sign.

"I think they're old enough to be told the story," Angie said. "It was bound to come up sooner or later."

Alastor shrugged and I gave a small smile. "Well, my dears, it's a bit of a long story. A long, complicated story." I said. "I was still married at the time when I met your grandfather, but my husband at that time… well he wasn't good to me. He wasn't faithful, he was controlling, and I wasn't happy with him."

"So why did you stay, abuela?" Alex asked.

"Well, mijo, I thought I was in love with him," I answered honestly. "I thought if I was patient enough, then he would change his ways. I was a young, naive girl at that time who thought keeping him happy was more important than my own happiness. That is… until your grandfather came along."

"So you two were lovers?" Alaina mused. "Kinda intriguing."

Alastor chuckled. "That may be true, Alaina, but I didn't see your grandmother as my lover. She was more like… the one that got away. And I was willing to do anything to get her back. Even if it meant "stealing" her away from her husband. But to fully understand how we met, it's best that we start from the beginning."

***

Miami, Florida, 1993

"Ava! Get your ass up! I'm hungry!" Jason yelled.

I deeply sighed before I rolled over to check the time on my alarm clock: 9:13 a.m. I sat up in the queen sized bed inside our condominium and looked out the window. It was cloudy with peeks of sunshine seeping in through the bedroom window. I saw a bluebird sitting on the windowsill, its chirping a sweet melodic sound. I smiled at the bluebird before I heard a loud bang from the sound of our bedroom door opening. My husband Jason entered our bedroom with a grumpy look on his face.

"Ava, I said I was hungry! The fuck you still doing in bed?"

"I just woke up Jason," I deadpanned. "I just needed a moment to fully get myself together."

"Well get up, I'm hungry now. At least be good for something and make some breakfast. What kind of wife are you?" he grumbled before shutting the door.

"Good morning to you too," I whispered sadly.

I've been married to Jason Mitchell for a year now but we've been together for almost 5. And to be honest, it's been absolute hell. All he does is belittle me and tells me that I'm a an awful partner, despite him being the one who's been unfaithful to me ever since we were together. He's cheated on me with countless women, I would threaten to leave him, he apologizes saying he won't do it again, I end up taking him back, and yet this toxic cycle repeats itself. I don't know why I'm still with him honestly; maybe it's because a part of me is in love with him, maybe it's fear of being alone, who knows? But I don't know how much longer I can take his constant abuse, but in the meantime I'll just swallow my pride and continue to play "the good wife."

I did one final stretch before I went into the bathroom to freshen up. I washed my face and brushed my teeth then I took a look at myself in the mirror. My normally bouncy curly hair looks like a matted mess on top of my head, dark circles stained around my eyes, my normally radiant caramel skin appeared kinda pale under the fluorescent light. I was exhausted; both physically and mentally. But yet I put on makeup to hide the dark spots, brushed my hair into a neat bun, and got dressed to make a quick breakfast for Jason and me before heading to work.

In the kitchen, Jason sat at the table reading a newspaper when I walked in. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before I went to the refrigerator and took out ingredients for eggs and French toast.

"'Bout time you got up," Jason scoffed. "I was starving in here."

"You know," I said. "You can always cook for yourself whenever I don't have time."

Jason gave a mocking laugh: "But then what will you be good for? You're the wife, you're supposed to cook and clean for the husband."

I rolled my eyes. "Times are changing honey. Women are allowed to work and have careers too."

"Whatever Ava," Jason grumbled. "Oh by the way, I'll be out late tonight so you don't have to wait up for me."

I froze after cracking an egg in the skillet. "I thought you said you were done 'staying out late'?"

"It's just for work, dear," Jason said. "Don't get your panties all twisted up."

Rage bubbled within me. I knew he was lying. The last time Jason "stayed out late," he smelled of perfume and had lipstick on his collar. I could feel tears form in my eyes, but I wouldn't let him see me cry.

"Why don't you stay home tonight?" I suggested. "We can order take out and cuddle on the couch like we used to."

Jason shook his head. "Can't babe. It's important. I promised them I would stay." He looked at me up and down before he spoke again. "Plus you don't look as appealing to cuddle with at the moment," he snorted.

I said nothing as I plated the food and gave one plate to him. Jason's eyes lit with glee upon seeing the food and began to scarf a forkful of eggs down his throat.

"I'm running late," I said lowly. "Lock up when you leave."

"Yeah okay," Jason said with a mouthful of food.

"I love you," I told him.

"Yeah you too."

I gave another sigh and grabbed my keys and jacket before heading out the door. My back rested against the door as I let a few years fall from my eyes, my breathing a bit ragged. I covered my mouth to stifle my sobs before I stood up straight and wiped my eyes.

Why can't I just leave him….

I regained my composure before I walked to my car and drove off to my job. One day I'll get back at Jason, I just wasn't sure when.

Tag List: @sirenascales @masked--empress @evilangel84 @wwevampireamongkpop @queen-legacy-productions @defenseofourdreams6277 @neversatisfiedgirlfics @superrezzy00 @writing-reigns and anyone else who wants to read it!

[runningthe-maze]

Reunited pt 3

Newt x Reader x Gally

Request (@tomesandrosebud ): The reader was Gally’s girlfriend when they were in the Glade, up until his ‘death’. And leaving him behind left her heartbroken but with everything going on after being 'saved’ by W.C.K.D. the Gladers had to just keep moving. So with all of the events of the Scorch the reader and Newt became really close, him helping to heal her broken heart and falling in love, sharing one kiss during the battle against W.C.K.D. when Minho was taken and then started officially dating soon afterwards. Also the reader somehow found out from Teresa and Thomas having regained their memories, Chuck was actually the reader’s little brother the whole time. So now it’s almost been a year since the day in which the Glader’s escaped the Maze and it turns out that Gally actually is still alive, and he’s been searching for and still been in love with the reader. And so the imagine basically kind of just all about how after the shock of Gally still being alive and him coming to re-join the group, how he basically never like up front gets told that now the reader and Newt are together. That it’s more of Gally feeling like she’s just avoiding him when he’s just trying to regain what they used to have. And he just has this feeling there’s something that the group isn’t telling him. And at one point he kind of just gets upset and thinks she hates him because of him killing Chuck, which she is upset about but unlike Thomas she was able to get passed that. But then eventually he just sees the reader and Newt together and is able to put it all together and basically just his reaction to everything.

Warnings: guns, swearing, fighting, TST spoilers

A/N: dlkfndajfvndafnldn I feel like this sucks im sorry 

Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

tags: @tomesandrosebud @bonelessbarnes

(not my gif)

Luckily, the group had found Thomas and Brenda before anything serious happened to them at Marcus’s club. While the two of them recovered from whatever Marcus made them drink, Jorge was able to interrogate Marcus and find a location for the Right Arm. He was even able to get a truck.

Your luck had seemingly ran out when the group could no longer drive, as there were dozens of cars blocking the road. The group hadn’t been able to walk a far distance before several shots rang out.

You hid with Frypan, Brenda, Theresa, and Aris behind an old van. Jorge spoke with Thomas before announcing that everyone had to be ready to sprint back to the truck. His plan was unsuccessful, due to two women approaching them with rifles. They recognized Aris, and brought you all to the Right Arm base.

The plan was to leave at first light, relocate to a new base. You had finally made it.

You, Newt, Frypan, and Minho we’re sitting together, watching over the camp when Thomas joined you.

“So does this make us Mountain people now?” You asked, earning a chuckle from the small group. “I guess it does. I wish Alby could’ve seen all this.” Newt sighed.

“And Winston.” Frypan added.

“And Chuck.” Thomas frowned, fiddling with the small wooden figure in his hands.

“He’d be proud of you, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, “Yeah..”

You turned to the group, “They’d all be proud of us. Even those slintheads who stayed behind.”

The group nodded, and Thomas went to find Theresa.

You removed one of your gloves and started absentmindedly picking at the scabs on your wrist from when Minho fell on you. They were still pretty fresh, but not very large.

“You shouldn’t mess with those,” Newt grabbed your hand gently, “They could get infected, and it’s too cold for you not to wear your gloves.” He carefully slid your gloves back on, not letting your hand go. He held both of your hands in his, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “Does it still hurt?” He asked. You shook your head, “They weren’t too bad to begin with. I’m sure they’ll be gone in a week.”

He nodded, looking over to Minho who was snickering with Frypan. Newt sent them a warning glance.

“How about you, Minho? The burns still hurt?”

Minho shrugged. “Not too much, I’ve been in worse pain after running the shucking maze.”

Frypan chuckled, rubbing his hands together. “You know it’s weird not having to cook every day for you shanks.”

“I could really go for some of your cooking, Fry.” You sighed at the thought of the Glade. Sure, you were all prisoners, but everyone there was a big family. You really missed them. If only they could be here.

“Let’s head down there. Find something to eat, yeah?” Minho suggested. Everyone agreed, and you all went down to the camp together.

After eating a small amount of food, you all sat together waiting for Thomas to return. Newt was in the middle of a sentence when WCKD attacked. The camp was immediately in chaos. WCKD guards pushed their way through the people, shooting everyone they could.

You ran around with Newt, Frypan, and Minho in search of Thomas. When part of a burning tent fell on top of you, Newt shouted your name and ripped it off. He pulled you back up and brushed the embers away from your jacket. You thanked him, hugging him tightly. When Newt pulled away, his eyes connected with yours and he swore to himself before glancing around at the havoc and shaking his head. Newt’s hands shot up to the sides of your face and he pressed his lips against yours. You found yourself kissing him back.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds before you had to run again. Newt pulled you along with him, keeping you close.

You met back up with Minho and Frypan, and the four of you went to assist Vince and Harriet. Vince handed everyone a rifle. You couldn’t remember ever using one before, but it seemed vaguely familiar.

“There are too many of them!” You cried out, desperately shooting at the WCKD guards.

“We’ve got to get this gun loaded. It’s our only chance.” Vince snapped, grabbing bullets out of Harriet’s hand.

WCKD guards moved closer to your group, shooting around you. One shot narrowly missed your head and Newt scooted closer to you, instructing Vince to hurry up.

Just before Vince was able to fire, a guard threw some sort of shock grenade at you. It rendered everyone defenseless, and you all collapsed.

The guards lined everyone up to scan your necks. You had been placed next to Newt. Thomas turned himself in, and Theresa joined Ava.

“You shucking traitor! How could you?!” You shouted, making a move to punch Theresa. A guard stopped you before you got to her, punching you in the gut.

“Y/n!” Newt cried out, pulling you to him. He helped you to your feet.

“I’m sorry. I had to, this was the only way. We have to find a cure.” Theresa announced to you and your friends. She was too cowardly to make eye contact with anyone.

Ava and Mary spoke, and Jansen shot Mary. You gasped, knees trembling. Newt pulled you into him, hiding your face in his shoulder so you wouldn’t look.

Jansen ordered the guards to load everyone up, but Thomas pulled out Jorge’s bomb.

“Thomas, do you really want all of them to die?” Ava asked. Minho waked to stand behind Thomas, being followed by Frypan, Newt, and you.

“We’re with you, Thomas.”

“Do it, Thomas.”

“We’re ready.” You all showed your support for Thomas’s plan. No one would be going back to WCKD.

You reached for Newt’s hand, preparing yourself for the explosion.

“THOMAS!” Ava shouted. Everyone’s attention turned to a loud horn, and a giant truck being driven by Jorge straight into a WCKD helicopter.

Everyone ducked for cover, avoiding the chunks of debris and dirt the helicopter threw.

“FREEZE. DROP IT KID.” A guard shouted to Thomas. Thomas threw his bomb at them, yelling for everyone to get down. You yanked Newt to the ground, away from the explosion.

After it was safe to run, you and Newt split up to grab guns off of bodies. Everyone shot at the WCKD guards, pushing them further back. The group slowly got further away from the guards, and most turned to running instead of shooting. Minho continues covering for everyone while you all hid behind a crate.

You screamed when Minho was shot. You tried to get up and run to him but guards shot at you, and Frypan pulled you out of the line of fire.

Jorge held Thomas back as Minho was dragged onto the WCKD helicopter.

You screamed with Thomas, completely helpless. WCKD took Minho.

—

“I know what I’m supposed to do now. It’s not just about Minho. It’s about all of us. It’s about everyone wicked’s ever taken. Everyone they will take. They’ll never stop. They’ll never stop so I’m going to stop them. I’m gonna kill Ava page.” Thomas announced to the group.

“I’m with you, Thomas.” You announced, standing up from the rock you had been sitting on. Even if it was suicide, like Jorge said, you still had to try. Minho would have done the same for anyone else. Thomas sent you a grateful look, looking around to see who else would support him.

Newt looked at you for a moment before grabbing your hand and nodding his head, nonverbally telling you he was in too.

“Well that’s a good speech, kid. So what’s your plan?”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

#IShipIt: Part 4

Fandom: Marvel (Celebrity AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and rising star, Bucky Barnes, both play rivals on the show “Blindsided”, the trending tv show that focuses on your two characters, Ava and Nathan. Because of your great chemistry on-screen, many of your loyal fans believe there’s chemistry off-screen as well. Are they right?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

After the panel, it was time for your autograph signings. You and Bucky grabbed a quick snack before heading to your own tables. You didn’t want to get separated, but luckily your tables were next to each others. 

You separated from Bucky, giving him a quick, “See ya later” as you rushed to your table. You jumped out from behind the curtain and yelled, “Hey guys!” The fans waiting in line all cheered. You settled into your chair and fans began to approach you. 

You heard a loud cheer and you peered to Bucky’s table. He was standing on his chair riling the crowd. You rolled your eyes and then stood. You cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled, “Hey, Barnes! Some of us are trying to have nice and peaceful interactions with everyone. Tone it down!”

Bucky stuck his tongue out at you, “Make me!” Bucky then jumped down and went closer to the line of fans, “Okay, on three we’re all going to yell ‘Hi, Y/N’, okay? One, two, three!”

“HI, Y/N!” you got startled by the erupt greeting. You held your hand to your chest and your eyes were wide.

Bucky held his stomach as he laughed, “You should’ve seen your face! Did anyone get that?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool! Tag me when you post it!”

You groaned, “Let me work, Bucky!”

Bucky held up his hands, “Fine, fine. Sorry.” He moved back behind his table and clapped his hands, “Alright! Let’s do this thing!”

About an hour later, you were in your own bubble. You enjoyed greeting fans, signing there things, occasionally taking pictures, and receiving cute gifts from there. Unfortunately, your energy started to waver as it started to near lunchtime. 

Bucky kept stealing glances towards you, noticing your smile and eyes not being as bright. It seemed like destiny when his next fan came up with his service dog.

Bucky’s eyes widened, “Oh my gosh! Hi! Who’s this adorable thing?” he asked rushing to the other side of the table staring down at a brown and white bulldog. 

The fan chuckled, “This is Winston.”

“Can I pet him?” The fan nodded and Bucky knelt down petting Winston, the dog’s little nub of a tail wagging with delight, “Is it okay if I bring him to Y/N?” the fan nodded and Bucky picked Winston up.

Bucky went around and peaked his head through the curtain, "Y/N! I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU!"

"If it's not food, go away." you mumbled with a smirk.

"It's better than food!" Bucky said excitedly.

"I highly d-" you gasp when Bucky pulls back the curtain to reveal a bulldog in his arms, "A dog! Oh my Gosh! Can I pet him?!" his owner said yes and you immediately scratched behind his ear, making him smile. You cooed, “Highlight of my day!”

Bucky smiled fondly, “Figured you needed a pick me up. You started looking a little down.”

You nodded, “Thanks, Buck. And I’m just hungry. Nothing some food can’t fix.”

Bucky looked at his watch, “Our lunch is in ten. I’ll come grab you and we could go to the break room to eat.”

“Alright,” you gave Winston one more scratch behind the ear, “Nice meeting you Winston!” Bucky walked back to his booth, leaving you feeling much happier.

You and Bucky hung out at in the break room during lunch. You both updated each other on who you encountered and the nice stuff you received from fans. 

You then remembered the friendship rings a fan gave for you and Bucky, “Oh! Check these out!” you pulled out two necklaces with two identical rings on them, “A fan’s dad makes jewelry and she had him make us friendship rings!” You handed him his and you took the ring off your necklace. You slipped it onto your left middle finger and nodded in approval, “Perfect fit!”

Bucky hung his around his neck, “This is cool! Now we’re real besties!”

You laughed, “Definitely! And this is sooo much better than friendship bracelets.”

Bucky pouted, “Well there goes my idea.”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him, “Dork.” you then picked up a chip and threw it at him.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you and threw his crumpled up napkin back at you. Before you could throw something back, you were called back to the autograph table. You pointed at Bucky, “This isn’t over, Barnes.”

“You can count on that, doll.” he picked up his trash and threw it away. He followed his escort out, but before leaving, he gave you a wink.

Eventually, the convention to an end and you were now headed back to LA on a plane with Bucky. You were exhausted and were currently resting your head on his shoulder. Your soft snores filled Bucky’s ears and he couldn’t help the fond smile that found its way on your face.

He scrolled on his phone, going back and forth from instagram and twitter. You nuzzled your face into Bucky’s arm and wrapped your arms around him. Bucky then clicked on his camera app and captured some quick pics of you. He posted one onto his instagram story with the caption, “She sleeps like a koala.”

The plane suddenly jerked due to turbulence making you jolt awake, “Huh?!”

Bucky snickered, “Just some turbulence. We’re fine. Go back to sleep,” he wrapped his arm around you this time.

You nodded and settled into his embrace. You mumbled an, “Okay,” before falling asleep once more.

buckarooxyou posted: hooooly shit! look at them! theyre so cute!

y/nsfanclub posted: aawww! y/n looks so adorable and comfy! bucky probably makes a great pillow.

blindsidedbyy/nandbucky posted: ...so when’s the wedding?

[rhysanoodle]

Teach Me

Feysand fluff

Word count: 1822

Inspired by this post by @captainluxiian

And this art by @porcelainart

AO3

Part 1

Part 2

“Orrin, slow down!” I yelled from over the banister.

It wasn’t even breakfast time, and already he had popped out of bed in a frenzy this morning and was trying to chase his Uncle Azriel around the foyer, delighting in making the larger Illyrian try to duck and dodge his grubby hands while Az tried ever-so-cautiously not to knock anything over with his wings.

I caught the gaze of the Shadowsinger, giving him my best apologetic smile. At six years old, Orrin was a powerhouse, a never-ending fountain of energy which we were hoping would one day be well-directed into ruling the Night Court with honor. He was only a few years away from his first visit to Windhaven, where Rhys and I would move for his adolescent years to give him the same training my mate had been succumbed to in his adolescence.

A sudden wailing noise came from over my shoulder. That would be my niece, Ava. I motioned to Az that I’d take care of her, relishing the relative peace and quiet she’d afford me once she was freed from her crib. At least compared to what was now occurring downstairs.

Her mother was already out tending the garden, but I was still greeted by a giggle and the most adorable grin as I walked into the nursery and Ava realized who had come to get her out of bed this morning.

As I approached her, she pulled up on the bars and got into a standing position, miniscule wings flapping aggressively. They’d just begun to start unfurling last month, and, with any luck, they’d be fully formed by the time she reached one year old.

They still wouldn’t be strong enough to carry her weight for a few years yet, but I missed the days before Orrin was raring to go, demanding that anybody with a set of wings begin teaching him the ropes of flying. Now it was all I could do to keep him grounded when we weren’t able to watch his every move.

Rhys and I had been trying for another child since not long after our son was born with no luck. Hopefully this time it would be a daughter for Rhys to no doubt spoil rotten.

I cherished any time I got to sneak away and care for Ava, grateful that Elain and Az had come to live with us on a more full-time basis not long after she was born.

After changing her and summoning a bottle from the kitchen, I walked down to the drawing room where the piano sat. It had been gathering dust for months, neither of us able to find much of a spare minute to play with all the chaos going on in our little household once we’d managed to finish our official duties.

I missed it. The late nights where Rhys and I would just sit for hours, hammering out familiar melodies, trying to recreate symphonies we’d heard performed in the Rainbow. He had been patient with me from the beginning, not minding the nights where it was a significant struggle as I tried to learn how to decipher the clefs and key signatures on the page.

Rhys always caressed me down the bond, soothing my nerves whenever I’d get so incredibly frustrated that I still stumbled after months of playing, reminding me that he’d spent years learning to become decent, and centuries trying to master it.

Now, whenever we were awoken by nightmares, we usually also had another bedmate who had heard us and wormed his way into our bed. We’d stay silently still, sometimes just glancing between ourselves and our precious boy, praying he never had to experience the trauma we’d been subjected to — and reminding ourselves that we’d made it out. And we were so incredibly blessed with how our lives turned out.

As I sat on the bench, seating a babbling Ava in my lap, I found myself reminiscing of that night all those years ago when my musical journey began. Unable to contain myself, I began to leisurely play the melody Rhys had helped me tap out on the keys all those year ago — our song. I closed my eyes, content to let the music take me away. As I grew more familiar with playing again and began to regain my muscle memory, I increased my tempo, catching up to the intended speed, the notes soaring out for beneath my fingers.

Just as I was reaching the end of the first movement, I was pulled from my reverie by a small beating of wings and some plodding footsteps.

“Wow, mommy! That was amazing!” Orrin exclaimed, shuffling up to me and tugging on my tunic. An out-of-breath Az was close on his tail, looking for all the world as if he’d tried to give me a few more moments of peace. “How’d you make it do that?”

“Well,” I explained, “I just press down on the keys, and each one makes a different sound. See?” I demonstrated by pressing and holding the middle C key. “When you press many of them at the same time and string them together, you can make a song. Just like this.” I performed a quick practice etude.

The look in his small violet eyes was nothing short of awestruck. “Please. Pleeeease will you teach me how to do that?” he pleaded, giving me a look he knew made me melt most of the time.

I thought about it for a moment before coming to a decision. “Go ask your father, Bud, okay?”

He face sunk. “But he’s not even home right now. It could be houuuurs before he’s here to teach meeeee!” He drew out some of his syllables like molasses as he began to tear up, and I could sense a tantrum about to erupt out of him.

“Yes, but he’s a much better piano player than I am,” I said conspiratorially. “He taught me. You wouldn’t want to miss out on this opportunity because you couldn’t wait a few hours, would you?”

Az shot me a grin and added, “You’re so lucky. I’ve been trying to get him to teach me for years, but your mommy has been keeping him all to herself.”

Orrin’s eyes lit up as he quickly agreed and began to drag his uncle with him to the kitchen, stating that he needed to eat up now because he had to be full and ready to go whenever Rhys came home.

I laughed to myself, struggling to keep from relaying this precious conversation to Rhys but knowing that the surprise would be worth it when he got home from the Court of Nightmares.

“Daddy!” The shrill yell could be heard throughout the estate, as Rhys no doubt winnowed into the foyer early that afternoon.

I left my seat at the kitchen table to go greet my mate with a kiss, and saw that Orrin was already tugging at his pant legs in anticipation.

“Hello, Feyre darling,” Rhys purred at me as I came into view, the familiar greeting paired with the longing on his face making my toes curl with desire, even after all these years.

“You’re home early,” I replied. I gave him a swift peck on the cheek, but did little more to encourage him, knowing that the two of us wouldn’t be able to satisfy our own urges until much later tonight, when the little one was finally in bed.

“Mor’s been doing her job incredibly well lately. Remind me to buy her a present for having already finalized most of the weapons deal with Keir before I even arrived this morning.”

By this point, we could both tell Orrin was about to burst from excitement as Rhys knelt down next to him and asked, “And how has your morning been, kiddo?”

Orrin cringed slightly at the nickname, but barreled on, intent on relaying his wish to Rhys.

“Daddy, will you teach me how to play the piano? It’s the coolest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, and Mommy and Uncle Az told me you were the best piano player ever.”

Rhys’ eyes never left Orrin’s face, but I felt a brush against my mental shields. I opened up the familiar sliver just for him.

The best ever, Feyre darling?

The one and only. He may be embellishing a bit, but who could blame him? You’re his hero.

That’s a whole lot to live up to.

I’m sure the most powerful High Lord in history will have no problem training the next great virtuoso.

Do you think he’s actually serious about wanting to learn? 

A slight tinge of worry was sent along with that question. I knew it wasn’t for our son, but for Rhys. For the fact that he might get his hopes up only to have Orrin grow frustrated or bored of it quickly and never show interest again.

You were younger than him when you had your first lesson, and look at you now. It’s all he’s talked about for hours now. I might have told him you could start as soon as you were done working.

Cruel, wicked thing. 

At that, I shut him out, not willing to let him turn this conversation into a flirtation when there were more important things to do right now.

“I’d love to,” Rhys responded out loud, ruffling Orrin’s hair. “Why don’t you give me a few minutes to change and grab a snack, and I’ll meet you in the drawing room.”

Half an hour later, I crept into the doorway, and watched as Rhys, with Orrin on his lap, guided his small hands ever so slowly over the keys, demonstrating how to make his fingers curl properly, and letting him know not to get too discouraged by the fact that the size of his hands made it slightly more difficult to spread his fingers out correctly.

Orrin was raptly paying attention for the first time in years, soaking it all in, desperate to begin truly playing a song. It was the most focused I’d seen him in awhile, and it made me smile, remembering the moments he couldn’t, where as a toddler, his father would seat him on his lap, and serenade him.

As Rhys sensed me hovering in his periphery, the bond was filled with a sense of joyous melancholy. I knew the words he didn’t even need to say — the memories that were now coursing through him of his mother teaching him to play and the peace he was finding at finally being able to pass this piece of her onto our child. To give him a sense of the grandmother Rhys so wished was still here to see this day.

I sent a loving caress down the bond, pouring my heart out to him in the way that was best done mind-to-mind, as a tear slid down his cheek.

Thank you.

< Previous  Masterlist

Tagging: @porcelainart @ineedcrossants @illyrianinterrasen @dagypsygirl

[poeticandors]

Resisting Part 4

Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: The First Order is attacking and Y/N has to make a choice in order to save her family.

Warnings: Violence, mention of death

A/N: I have had this chapter planned in my head since part 3 but I was too lazy to type it out until now lol. Sorry, friends!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Tag list is under the cut.

I do not own GIF!

Ignoring Poe’s shouts, you followed Miko out of the tent, grabbing the quadnocs he was handing you to look out into the horizon. The only thing you could see were TIE Fighters coming towards your village. Furrowing your brows for a moment, your eyes widened as you realized what the First Order was planning.

“We need to take cover, now. Go tell Jax to get the rocket launchers, and tell everyone to prepare themselves,” you yelled back at Miko who simply nodded and ran to warn everyone else while you ran back inside the tent to search for your no-named device.

“Y/N!” You completely forgot about Poe, but continued to dig through your belongings. “What’s going on?

“The First Order,” you breathed out as you finally found the device, holding it tightly as you stood up. “They are coming in TIE Fighters. They are coming to air strike the village. I have to—“

“Y/N, I need you to get me out of these,” you froze and finally glanced over at Poe, who was struggling against his restraints.

“I—“

“Y/N,” Poe said sharply. “Don’t do this now. I can help you guys and right now, you don’t have much of a choice.”

You stared at Poe for a moment, then down to BB-8 who gave a low whir, pondering whether you should trust him or not.

“Y/N, you’re wasting time, if you don’t let me help you then we are all going to be in deep shit,” glancing outside, you heard the whirring of the TIE Fighters getting closer, your heart beginning to race.

“Y/N!” Poe yelled and you looked back at him with scared eyes, his face softening as he took on your worried expression.

Biting your lip, you placed your device in your jacket pocket and leaned down to get eye-level with him. Grabbing his restraints, you hesitated a moment, taking in his features—glancing between his eyes and his lips—your breath hitching as you realized how close you were to him.

“You can trust me,” Poe said in a soft tone and you finally nodded as you worked his restraints off.

The two of you stood up quickly, Poe following behind as you ran and grabbed your blaster, as well as the one they had confiscated from Poe, and handed his to him. Poe nodded ‘thanks’ and followed you outside, calling for BB-8 to follow.

Everyone was running around, taking cover and raising their blasters. You searched for Maira, hoping that they had taken cover, but soon your eyes landed on a distraught Maira, who was pulling along Zae with Beebs rolling closely.

Maira ran up to you, and you held your arms out for her as she stumbled into them. You held on tightly as she began speaking to you in rushed sentences.

“Whoa, Maira! Slow down,” you glanced down to Zae who was holding tightly to his mom, but realized Ava wasn’t there. “Maira, where’s—“

“I don’t know! Sh-she was here and then when I looked b-back she was gone,” your heart dropped and you looked back to Poe, whose eyes were wide. “Y/N, we have to find her!”

You began to shush Maira. “We will, don’t worry. She’s a smart girl, she is probably—“

A loud explosion nearby caused you all to duck. Looking up, you watched as a couple of TIE Fighters zoomed right over your heads, shooting their blasters upon your village. Pushing Maira and Zae forward, you yelled down at Beebs.

“Take them to Miko, get them out of here, do you hear me?” Beebs chirped and you turned towards Zae, grabbing his hands. “Zae, I need you to stay with your mother, okay?”

“What about—“

“Hey, buddy,” Poe kneeled down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We will find Ava. Your job now is to protect your mother.” Zae stared at Poe for a quick moment before he nodded and turned to grab his mother’s hand to follow Beebs, all the while you watched as Poe stood straight up.

“Thanks,” as Poe was about to nod, his eyes rose to look behind you and before you knew it, he was running past you and BB-8.

You watched as Poe ran straight for a destroyed tent, and crouched next to the tent, was Ava. Behind her however, was a TIE Fighter flying her way and your eyes widened in fear for your niece.

“Ava!” You heard Poe shout as you began to run after them, BB-8 rolling by your side. “Stay there, Sweetheart!” Before you could catch up to Poe, you and BB-88 were thrown backwards from the sudden impact of a blaster landing near you.

Landing hard on your back, your ears were ringing as your eyes began to flutter open. It felt like a ton of bricks were lying on your chest and you struggled to take a breath. Pushing yourself to sit up slowly, squinting through to dust to see Poe slowing down as Ava allowed him to pick her up and bring her back.

BB-8 whirred, asking if you were okay and you simply nodded, standing up with shaky legs and running towards Poe and Ava with BB-8 rolling next to you. Poe was holding on tightly to Ava, one hand placed against the back of her head into his shoulder to keep her from seeing what was going on as they continued running.

Poe stopped in front of you, handing over a crying Ava to you. You held her close, whispering soothing words to her as Poe gently placed his hand on her back.

“Y/N, take Ava. Get her safe, and I will be right back,” as his hand slipped from Ava’s back, you quickly grabbed onto it, causing him to look back.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“I have to get to my X-Wing, it’s our biggest shot of getting out of this safely,” you were taken aback—surprised that this man you had just met would risk his life to help save your people.

Nodding, you felt Poe squeeze onto your hand before he and BB-8 took off in the direction his X-Wing was. Ava cried in your ear and you placed a hand to run through her hair as you took off in the opposite direction to find Maira.

Smoke and fire surrounded you, as well as the screams of the people nearby, and you pushed yourself to run faster as you heard the sound of a TIE Fighter coming closer to you. A blast shot to the right of you, and Ava cried out in fear as you called out for her mother. In front of you, Miko waved his hand, signaling that they were with him but his hand froze midair as he looked past you.

“Y/N! Get down!” He yelled out as he raised his rocket launcher the same time you got to the ground, covering Ava’s head.

The sound of a blast connecting hard with the ship caused you to hold on tighter to Ava when you suddenly felt the impact of the TIE Fighter crashing onto the ground. Sand flew into your hair, and you waited a moment longer to bring your head up and look around you.

To the right of you was the TIE Fighter that Miko shot down, engulfed in flames— one of its wings thrown off to the side. Standing up, you picked Ava up once more and began to run straight towards Miko, where you saw Maira standing just behind him. Maira met you halfway, taking Ava into her arms, and placing multiple kisses on her forehead while Zae ran up and hugged them both.

Miko placed a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you panted. “How many more TIE Fighters are there?”

“There are six more, but with Jax and the everyone else, we were only able to take out four.” You nodded, looking out into the sky to see the TIE Fighters farther away when Miko called your name. “Where is the Resistance pilot?”

“He—“

The sound of blasters going off caused you and Miko to look back up to the sky to see the black and orange X-Wing shooting off one of the TIE Fighters, and then making an aerial loop to avoid the blast from another TIE Fighter ahead of him only to shoot that one as well.

You smirked. “He’s right there.”

The remaining three ships suddenly moved into a formation as they turned away from the village and instead headed straight for Poe. The ships broke away from each other, two going around Poe while one stayed behind. Poe was able to shake off the two next to him—speeding up and making a sharp left to shoot them down.

“Whoa,” you heard Zae say behind you as he watched Poe in the sky.

Just as Poe was chasing down the remaining TIE Fighter, you watched as another one appeared behind Poe, who was too preoccupied with the one in front of him to notice. Grabbing Miko’s rocket launcher, you ran forward to get a better angle of the TIE Fighter. Looking through the scope, you followed the ship, waiting for the opportune moment. Releasing a breath, you released the trigger and watched as the TIE Fighter exploded just as Poe took his down.

Throwing the rocket launcher down, you turned back to Miko, who gave an impressed look.

“Miko, go gather the survivors. If there are any left, bring them over here,” Miko didn’t hesitate and quickly ran off, while you ran over to Maira, the kids, and Beebs.

After hugging Maira, who was still holding onto Ava, you moved on to hug Zae, ruffling his hair, and moved down to pat your green and silver droid on its dome.

“Are you all alright?” The droid beeped in confirmation, and you looked up to Maira’s exhausted form as she nodded.

The sound of a ship landing caused you to turn, and you watched as Poe exited his cockpit and jumped from the X-Wing, jogging straight towards you. He didn’t even bother to fix his helmet hair as he came to a stop in front of you just as you stood up.

“Hey—“

“You saved my niece,” you quickly spoke and Poe blinked, his features softening a bit.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around Poe’s neck, startling him, until you felt him wrap his arms around your middle.

“Thank you,” you whispered and Poe only squeezed you tighter.

“Y/N,” Miko called from behind you and you pulled away from Poe, your gaze lingering for a split second as you held onto his arms before they slid down as you turned towards Miko. “This is all that’s left.”

Your eyes scanned the few people that were left. Xel and her younger brother were standing next to Jax, his sister, and wife. Tara, her twin sister, and her three children were accounted for as well. Behind them, were a couple others standing with their families as well.

Everyone was covered with soot, dirt, and blood—evident of their fight against the First Order. Your heart ached for the many members that had lost their lives fighting to protect themselves, but you were also angry.

Angry that the First Order would not leave you and your people alone. Angry that so many had lost their lives today.

“What are we going to do now, Y/N?” Tara asked, causing everyone else to murmur behind her.

Taking in the many concerned and frightened faces, you straightened your back and spoke so everyone was able to hear you.

“The First Order has taken so much from us. They have taken our home, and our loved ones,” your voice lowered at the end of your sentence, causing the expressions of everyone surrounding you to drop. “But there is one thing they haven’t taken from us. And that is hope.”

Poe stood with his back straight and listened intently—his chest swelling with a sense of pride. In Poe’s mind, you were a natural born leader, and he had only known you for a few moments. He could see how much you truly cared about your people, how all you wanted was their safety, and he watched the growing spark in your eyes as you continued to talk to your people.

Leia was right, Poe thought.

“Those that have died today will not have died in vain. We will move forward, continue our fight against the First Order,” you glanced over to Poe, his eyes locked onto yours and you knew what your choice was. “And start a new life as we join the Resistance.”

Tag List: @starwrite-er @alicehoney @kararanae23 @zestygingergirl @echointhelibrary @donkeysblog @weirdhangrypotato @myrabbitholetoneverland @shelter-with-bambam @andyl394 @timemngmtoptimisationproblems 

Permanent Poe Tag List:  @geeksareunique @firefeatherx @warqueenfuriosa @thefirebreather00 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @sleepylunarwolf @rosa-kirk @beautifulfound @nobodyworthmentioning @kristy-geary @lunafreya98 @simplyonehellofapilot @poedameronandothertrash @nerdy-98  @cobalt-one @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @roseslovedreams @hanginwithmanerds @poealsobucky

If I forgot anyone, please message me! 

[queen-of-deans-booty]

All Hell Breaks Loose Part One- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,932

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. If you’re a junkie for this sort of thing, then a tag list is the right thing for you! If you want to be a Queen, I’ll add you to that list too! Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

AHHHH This season is almost done!!!!! Just ONE more episode left! If you’ve been catching along with this series, this and the next episodes is what I wan to hear your thoughts on!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

You jolted up with a gasped, seeing how it was morning already. You were glad no one killed or tried to kill you in your sleep. You woke up to Jake screaming at you and Sam to wake up. You looked over at Sam to see him jolt awake from the nightmare he probably had.

“Sam! Y/N! Wake up! Ava is missing!” Jake said, his eyes wide. That got you and Sam right up and the three of you rushed outside to go find her.

“Y/N will come with me and Jake, just try and find her.” Sam ordered, splitting from Jake before he had a chance to say anything else. You followed Sam, looking in the other houses and buildings that littered the town.

“She isn’t here.” You said, giving up. There were so many buildings here, you doubted she went this far out.

“Okay, let’s go back.” Sam said, walking back to the barn where he agreed to meet Jake at. As you got closer, you head an ear-splitting scream that came from Ava. It seemed as if she was back at the barn already.

You and Sam rushed to the barn, busting in. You gasped in horror and grabbed at Sam’s arm from what you saw. Ava, crying her eyes out at the fact that Andy was now lying in a pool of his own blood, dead.

“Oh! Sam! I just found him like this!” Ava screamed dramatically, making you narrow your eyes at her.

“What the hell happened?” He demanded.

“I don’t know!” Her voice squeaked up a bit.

“Cut the bullshit act, Ava.” You said with a glare. She glared at you, taking a step towards you.

“Excuse me? Our friend is dead!”

“Friend? Sam, come on. She is being such a drama queen right now. I am an expert on fake crying and that, right there, was an example of this. She did this to Andy! She killed him!” You said, accusing her.

“How dare you think I did this!” Ava yelled at you.

“Come on, Y/N, I don’t think we should blame her.” Sam started to say.

“Sam, you know how good I am when it comes to lying. I know she is lying,” You said, looking at the window sill behind Sam and nodding. You pointed to it and made Sam look. “How else do you explain the break in the salt? Andy wouldn’t do it, not when he was always scared of what was happening.”

“You believe her, Sam?” Ava asked, scoffing.

“You know, she’s right. You’ve been here for five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for. Plus, that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lily.” Sam said, putting you behind him. Ava went from this scared, overdramatic girl to one who was laughing, wiping the tears from her face.

“I had you two going, though, didn’t I? Yeah, I’ve been here a long time. However, I was never alone. People just kept showing up. Children, like us who came in batches of three or four at a time.” She said with a smile.

“You killed them? All of them?” Sam asked, horrified.

“I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ.” Ava said, proudly.

“Oh, my God.” You muttered. If only looks could kill…

“I don’t think God had much to do with this, Y/N.”

“How could you?” Sam asked, shocked still.

“I had no choice. It's me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting who we are, Sam. If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain. I can’t believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?”

“Control demons.” You said.

“Ah, you’re quick which is good. You aren’t going to make it out of here alive, Y/N. It’s either going to be me, Jake or Sam who will kill you and I can guarantee that.” She raised her hand and you looked behind you to see the cloud of black smoke come through the window again.

Before anything could happen, Jake came up behind Ava and grabbed her head, snapping her neck easily, killing her. The demonic smoke left back out the window, glad not to be controlled anymore. You gasped and watched as he dropped her body like it was nothing.

He looked up and stared at you, the evil glint you saw when you first met him was now back in his eyes.

“Sam, come on.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the barn. Jake chuckled and he followed you two, murder in his eyes.

“Jake, whatever you’re thinking, don’t. The demon is gone now. I think we can leave.” Sam said, seeing the look in his eyes. He had eyes for you but he wanted to murder you since it was what he was told to do.

“No, only one of us is making it out of here alive and it’s going to be me. But first, she needs to die. I had a vision of the Yellow-eyed Demon. He told me what needs to be done and I have to follow his orders or I will be the one to die and that isn’t happening.”

“No, Jake, you can’t listen to him. He lies, Y/N isn’t going to die. Neither of us will. We are going to get out here. We can kill that bastard together.” Sam tried to reason with him.

“How do I know you won’t turn on me?” He asked, unsure. You thought it would be best if you kept quiet, afraid of triggering something in him. He was already much stronger than you so it wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“We won’t, Jake.” You said very gently.

“I don’t know that.”

“Okay, look,” Sam said, taking the knife you found earlier and showed Jake, placing it on the ground to show some peace between the three of you. “Just come with us, Jake. Don’t play into his games. You’ll end up dead.”

After a moment or two, Jake nodded and placed his weapon on the ground next to Sam’s. You had a feeling this wasn’t over yet and that feeling proved to be true when Jake punched Sam. Jake, already being super duper strong, sent Sam flying through the air, crashing on the ground.

“Sam!” You yelled, glaring at Jake who was walking to you.

“You’re turn sweetheart. I’ll make it quick because you seem like a nice girl but this has to be done.” He said, getting closer to you. Panic surged through your veins and you didn’t know what to do. The weapons were behind Jake and Sam wasn’t much help right now. He will kill you if he got his hands on you.

You felt yourself panicking even more when he got closer and you shot your hands out to protect yourself. A burst of magic left your hands, hitting Jake right in the stomach, sending him toppling over. You gasped, thinking how you thought only anger or Dean being hurt would make this magic come out. But you guess panic will do the same thing.

Good to know.

You rushed to Sam, sliding on the ground when you got close enough to him. He groaned and looked at you, sitting up.

“Sam, we have to go.” You looked up to see and even more pissed off Jake come storming to you. He realized that he needed to get rid of Sam before he can get to you. You barely got Sam up on his feet when you felt the wind being knocked out of you.

Jake had used half of his strength to push you away from Sam, throwing in a few punches. Sam had enough of this and he punched back, fighting with Jake. You tried to catch your breath and you looked up to see Jake and Sam fighting, Jake winning.

You groaned and forced yourself to get on your feet, looking around until you spotted the weapons on the ground. You looked back at Jake and Sam, knowing Sam could hold his own for a while. You slowly moved to the weapons, keeping an eye on Jake who seemed to be too busy with Sam to even notice you.

You grabbed the iron rod that Jake carried instead of the knife. You didn’t want to kill him, no, just knock him out until you figured out what to do with him. You finally got enough air in your lungs to start running and when Sam looked like he had enough, you raised the rod, striking Jake on the head very hard.

You made sure not to kill him but he did go down, unconscious. You dropped the rod and then that’s when you heard it.

“Y/N! Sam!” You looked up and smiled when you saw Dean and your dad, with flashlights.

“Dean!” You were so glad he was okay. You grabbed Sam’s arm and put it over your shoulder to help him walk since he was weak from the beating he took.

“Dean! Bobby!” Sam said with a weak smile, slowly but surely walking closer to them.

“Sam! Y/N! Look out!” You only had enough time to turn your head to see Jake coming at you with the knife. Your eyes widened and you shoved Sam out of the way so he wouldn’t get hurt. You were going to use your magic but it was too late.

You froze when the blade of the knife sliced through your body, coming out the other end. You gasped and looked down, seeing the bloody tip of the blade that was right through your chest. Jake twisted the knife and you gurgled up blood as he pulled you closer.

“I told you, you weren’t leaving here alive.” He said before taking the blade out and running away.

“No!!!” Dean yelled, making a run for you as you fell to the ground and on your knees. You knew what was going to happen next but you weren’t sure if Dean or even Sam was ready for that. Dean slid to the ground in front of you, seeing how pale you looked.

He grabbed at your shirt, trying to get you to look at him but you could feel your life slipping away. Sam rushed and got up, not caring about himself as he checked your wound.

“Dean, it’s bad.” Sam said. Dean pressed his hand over your wound but the blood kept pouring out. You leaned forward in Dean’s arms, too weak to hold yourself up.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me, okay? It’s not that bad. Don’t listen to Sam. Y/N! Y/N, please look at me,” Dean said with tears in his eyes., You so badly wanted to look at him but you didn’t; couldn’t. “Don’t worry, we’re going to patch you right up. You’re going to be as good as new.” Dean touched your face but you were just on the brink of death. You watched as Bobby ran after Jake, leaving you alone with Sam and Dean.

“Dad…” You said as you took your last breath. Your body slumped forward in Dean’s arms as your eyes slid close, lying in Dean’s arms.

“No! No, no, no, no, no, Oh, God, Sammy! Sam! Do something! No!!!” Dean yelled, letting the tears fall freely. There was nothing Sam or even Dean could do now.

You were dead.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith​ @mogaruke​ @whit85-blog​ @inlovewithbja​ @spn67-sister​ @kdfrqqg​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @roxyspearing​ @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose​ @cobrakai1967​ @essie1876​ @wishedworld​ @crispychrissy​ @laqueus-ludovicus​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel​ @potterhead1265​ @starswirlblitz​  @untitled39887​ @ta-n-ja​ @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi​ @tahbehonest​ @stay-in--place​ @dreaminofdean @posiemax​ @donnaintx​ @mikey1822​ @alexandriajanae4​  @li-ssu​ @just-another-winchester​ @obsessivecompulsivespn​ @emoryhemsworth​ @newtospnfandom​ @mizzezm​  @goldenolaf25​ @jessikared97​ @wh1sp3r1ng-impala​ @charliebradbury1104​    @queen-of-moons-peace-out-bitches @becs-bunker​ @atc74​ @lemonchapstick​

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278​ @mega-mrs-dean-winchester​ @winchesterandpie​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @carribear31​ @tacklesackles​ @oreosatmidnight​ @not-naturalfangirl​ @missselinakitty​ @iam-a-cutiepie​  @kristendansmith​ @milo-winchester-4ever​ @jensenackesl​ @codyshany316​ @pheonyxstorm​ @helllonearth​ @juniorhuntersam​ @pouterpufftrain​ @ruprecht0420​ @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @carriemichelle2012​ @aubreystilinski​

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth​ @amyisabellal​ @deanwnchstr​ @caseykitten6​ @quixoticcat​ @supernaturalblogging​ @notmoose45​ @crowleysminion​ @mina22​ @tahbehonest​ @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels​ @spnhybrid @oreosatmidnight​ @valerieshubin​ @seninjakitey​ @flyonlittlewinchester​ @aubreystilinski​ @rocketqueeens​  @emilygracespellins​ @earthtokace​

[littlepuddingsugg]

Shy Meetings

Request: Y/N is super shy when she meets Joe for the first time.

Joe’s POV

“Before I go back out to the meet and greet I wanted to quickly show you a few of these amazing gifts some of you guys brought with you guys.” I said quickly panning the camera to the pile of gifts I had received from the first half of the signing.

“This one is from a girl called Molly and I am definitely going to be reading this book on the plane home Molly, thank you.” I said showing a book to my camera, “and this,” I paused to laugh, “I think this my favorite thing yet. It’s a handmade book all about thatching and it even comes with THATCHING STRAW!!! Thank you Ava and Nick, I really appreciate it” I smiled to the camera before turning it off quickly as I was being urged to head back out to my meet and greet.

Another hour and a half had passed and I could finally see the end of the line. I quickly glanced at my watched and realized that I had more than enough time to stop and have a little chat with the rest of the people if they wanted...most of them didn’t however. I’d watched them chat to their friend in line but when they got to me, they’d be speechless. Nonetheless, I tried my hardest to encourage some kind of conversation.

I hugged a group of three girls goodbye giving a smile, waving what I thought was the last person over, but when only one of the girls stepped forward, the younger of the two, I was a little intrigued.

I took my photos and gave the young girl one last hug before I locked eyes with the last girl in line. She was around my age, maybe only 2 years younger, and she greeted me with the warmest smile I have ever seen.

“Hi.” She said, her voice was a little shaky.

“Hi” I said reaching out to give her a hug, “I honestly thought you and the last girl I just met. You two were chatty.” I said looking over my shoulder to see the girl walk away with what I now know are her parents.

“Ahh...nope.” She left out an awkward laugh.

“So what’s your name?” I said realizing that it was getting a little weird.

“Y/N.”

“So Y/N, what brings you here?” I ask hoping that she’d stay and talk to me a little more. I still had time and there was something about her that made me want to get to know her.

“Oh umm...well I came to see you Caspar and Oli. I’ve been fans forever it seems like.” She said, her eyes darting to the ground after.

“That’s cool! You’ve already met then yeah?”

“Yeah, you were last on my list so I suppose my day has been fulfilled.”

“Well you can hang around here and wait for your friends if you wanted. You’re the last person so there’s really no reason to rush to leave.” I told her.

“Oh umm, well I’m here by myself so it’s fine.” She gave me that warm smile again, “It was nice meeting you and your friends today.”

“Yeah..nice meeting you too.” I said before I watched her walk away.

I turned back to my mangagement who was now helping with the clean up as I took another look at my watch. Caspar and Oli’s meet and greets should be nearly over and after doing what packing all of our gifts up and checking out of the venue, the only plans we had were to go grab dinner.

Before I could comprehend what my body was doing, I had turned around and shouted Y/N’s name just as I watched her walk out the front doors of the venue. I quickly told my management that I’d be back before running towards the doors.

“Y/N!” I yelled as I pushed through the doors. Luckily the street was fairly empty so not many people saw me call after a girl while I was out of breath.

“Joe?” She asked after she stopped and looked around.

“Hey, sorry if I scared you.” I said catching my breath, “Would you want to maybe go grab dinner with Caspar, Oli and I?”

“Oh umm...I don’t-”

“Before you answer, just know it won’t be weird. You’ve met them and they are really nice guys so I’m sure they’d be fine if you came.” I said cutting her off, giving her a reason to say yes.

I watched her ponder it over for a bit before I spoke again, “That is if you aren’t busy. If you are I understand.”

“No, I don’t have anything else planned today...so if you’re sure Caspar and Oli won’t mind having a fan at dinner and if you don’t mind me tagging along.”

“I don’t mind, after all I am the one who asked you.” I smiled.

“Yeah I suppose. Dinner with your friends sounds good.” She smiled before she turned around and followed me back into the venue to find Caspar and Oli.

[mymymymyonlyangel-blog]

baby shower // h.s.

a/n: okay this is the first one shot i’ve ever written so please bare with me. i tried to make it cute and stuff but i think i got sidetracked so i’m sorry. some constructive criticism would be highly appreciated! enjoy! -a. 

You and Harry had been dating for a while, almost five years, and you were head over heels for him. He was, for lack of a better and less cheesy word, your soulmate. His family loved you and your family loved him, so when your older sister invited the two of you to her baby shower Harry was ecstatic. It was a very well known fact that Harry adored kids, and parties with your family always had kids running around. Your cousins and extended family just did not stop having kids.

When you arrived to your sister's house, you could hear music coming from the backyard so you and Harry went around the back and let yourselves in. As soon as you made it to where the real party was, your sister, Mia, called out for you.

"Y/N!" She walked over hurriedly, abandoning her other guests to greet you, "I'm so glad you guys could make it!" 

"You know we would never miss it! Harry wanted to come to this baby shower probably more than me."

"It's true," he spoke up. "How are you? I'm guessing you don't know the sex of the baby by the decorations."

The backyard was decorated totally pink on one side and totally blue on the other. The pink side had a pink sign saying "It's a girl!" and a bunch of pink party favors, including pins that had the same phrase. The blue side looked the same except it was decked out with blue party favors, along with the pins and sign saying "It's a boy!" You were very glad in that moment that your gift was a gender neutral yellow outfit.

"Nope! The only people who know are my doctor and mom. I think it's gonna be a boy. Josh thinks it's gonna be a girl though," she replied. Harry smiled at her enthusiasm and turned to you.

"Well, I guess we should figure out what we think," you said smiling at Harry and then your sister. "See you in a bit yeah?"

"Oh yeah of course!" Mia was literally glowing. "Don't forget to put on a pink or blue pin though!"

With that she went away to find her husband Josh. You and Harry wandered around greeting relatives and friends after placing your gift on the gift table, the whole time Harry's arm was slung loosely around your hips. "Just to keep you close," he said, until he saw your cousin's three year old daughter, Ava, and he instantly let go of you to pick her up.

"Y/N, look at how big she's gotten!" he said with the biggest smile on his face.

"Ava! You're so cute!" Ava giggled like Harry had just told the funniest joke ever. You and your cousin, Sofia, laughed at how cute their interaction was. The last time Harry, or you, had seen Ava was almost a year ago and she had adored Harry. Just like right now, she had the time of her life with Harry.

"You can take her with you for the rest of the party if you'd like," said Sofia. "She'd probably enjoy it more with you than sitting here listening to me talk to everyone the whole time."

"Really?" Harry sounded, and looked, so excited. "You don't mind?"

"No of course not! Just come back when she needs a diaper change or something." And with that, Harry gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and left to play with Ava around the backyard. You and your cousin watched them for a bit before just making light conversation about anything and everything; your sister, the sex of the baby, when you and Harry were getting married and starting a family of your own, etc. 

Harry came back in an hour to have Ava's diaper changed when your sister announced that there would be games played soon, girl team against boy team. Harry had decided he thought the baby would be a girl and you thought otherwise, so you decided to play each game against each other for a few games.

The first game was probably your favorite. You had to hold a potato between your thighs, walk across the backyard, and drop the potato into a mug on the ground. Walking with the potato was easy enough for you, but Harry was struggling. You could see him failing to even keep the potato between his thighs let alone walk with it.

"Love," he said to you, exasperated. "How on Earth are you doing that?"

Everyone was cheering for you but you started laughing at Harry and almost lost your grip on the potato. With that Harry got a little boost of confidence and was able to catch up to you. Now you were neck and neck to reach the mugs. As soon as you got to them, with your facial expressions and frustrated cursing, you both looked like you were in the woods struggling to find a place to poop. 

However with the sounds of everyone yelling you lost your grip on the potato and it fell from between your thighs, landing right next to your mug. You yelled angrily and just watched Harry struggle to aim his potato. Finally he dropped it, and to your dismay, it landed in the mug. Cheers erupted from all around you and Harry had a smug grin on his face as he shrugged to you.

"Sorry babe," he shouted over everyone's cheers. "I guess I'm just better at holding my potatoes than you are." You snorted at that and playfully hit his arm.

"Okay Har " you said with a laugh. He claimed his prize of a pink chocolate and the two of you sat side by side at a table with your mom. Harry tried to get the sex of the baby out of her, but she wasn't cracking. He gave up and went to play tag  with the little kids.

"So when are you and Harry having kids?" Your mom questioned, making you choke on your own spit due to her abruptness.

"Mom," you replied after clearing your throat. "We're not even married! We're just enjoying our lives together."

"I know... but he's my dream son-in-law, and you’ve been together for quite a while now. Look at how good he is with kids!" she gestured his direction. You looked over to see him sitting on the grass letting Ava play with his hair while he played patty cake with another one of your cousin's son. It made your heart flutter to see how much he was enjoying himself with them. You definitely could see yourself marrying, and having kids with him in the future. He felt your stare on him and turned to look at you. You waved to him, smiling, and he gave you the biggest smile he could manage.

After a few more games and cake, it was time for the big reveal. Your sister's husband, Josh, was holding a black balloon, and your sister was holding a safety pin to pop it. Everyone was getting loud and you could tell they were all extremely excited. You felt Harry come up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and his head on your shoulder. 

"This was so much fun," he said to you, loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough so no one else did. "Can we have a baby shower like this when we have kids?"

You felt your stomach doing flips and turned your body to face him, only to see him smiling at you from ear to ear. You placed your arms loosely around his neck and smiled right back at him, just as big.

"You really want to have kids with me?" he nodded to you with absolutely no hesitation.

"Do you think I would be with you for five years if I didn't?" he said teasingly. You reached your head up to give him a passionate kiss. He tried to deepen the kiss but couldn't because your sister called the two of you out.

"Hey Harry and Y/N," she shouted as you stepped back from Harry, giddy from the kiss you just shared. "If you could not suck face for about five minutes so we can find out the gender of my baby that would be great!"

Harry giggled and apologized. With that, everyone turned their attention to Mia and Josh, and started a countdown from ten. When the countdown ended Mia popped the balloon and pink glitter fell all over the grass at their feet. Everyone cheered as Josh and Mia embraced, you could see that Mia was crying tears of joy and Josh was smiling from ear to ear.

"I knew it!" Harry said to you, "Just had a gut feeling it would be a girl."

Later when you had left the party and were back home with Harry, you were laying in bed talking about your future before dozing off.

"I want six kids," Harry whispered to you, clearly half asleep. You snorted at how ridiculous it would be to have that many kids.

"Do you plan on giving birth to that many children yourself?" He pulls you in to his chest and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "all six of them."

"Good luck with that Har." He didn't respond and soon enough you could hear him beginning to snore softly. With a smile on your face, you drifted off to sleep thinking about how you would love to have as many kids with Harry as your hearts desired.