#to him final death is a blessing and a comfort and he intends to keep it that way. no fear of what comes after because they know it's okay

[the-insouciant-scientist]

what are hyakinthos's thoughts on the boatman and the slow boat in general?

Ooh, taking a quick sidestep from the rest of the ask game asks to answer this real quick! Short answer: a little complicated but generally friendly! Long answer: Gotta give some backstory first, bear with me. I have been thinking so much about belief systems vs established canon. Canon says that every human who dies regardless of belief (there may be nuance I'm forgetting but I'm in full speed infodump mode rn so that's a problem for future me) goes to the Far Shore. I say that's... kinda bleak? Also I'm just not a fan of stories where there is only One Real Belief and the rest are played off as silly distraction or whatever, but I digress.

A lot of his everything is based around the idea that both belief and proper death/burial care are important to get people to the afterlife they're meant to be in. Ritual makes all the difference between going to the Far Shore vs the Fields of Asphodel, for example.

His Boatman is Charon, or at least accepts the name. Hyakinthos has a working relationship with him and has probably taken up the oars at least a few times, especially for people who need the extra care in getting to where they need to be.

There's respect there, but there's also a certain... I'm not sure I have the words for it. The idea that death in the Neath is uncertain in so many ways (whether it'll stick that time, whether the person will make it to their afterlife or if they'll slip between the cracks and end up in the wrong place, etc) can be... discomfiting, to him. So while he does hold the boatman in high regard, there's always some little uncertainty there.

(Every so often, by their standards at least, Hyakinthos will bring him a very old obol. The Boatman will always refuse it. This is a ritual of its own. They'll sit for a while and talk anyways, and then part ways afterwards a little lighter.)

[bombdiggity666]

Here Comes Judgement Day Pt.3

A few years ago, I attempted to draw a fan comic to resolve the ambiguous ending of the MTMTE/LL Comic series. I managed to complete one panel, but lost the other three when my computer crashed.

Now, after some time has passed, I feel encouraged to try again. This time, I've written a multi-part story to better guide my comic.

It's worth noting that when I began this project, I was feeling edgy, so it's all based on the song posted below

A Summary:

Megatron faces his impending execution in Garrus 9. As he reflects on his fate, Ultra Magnus grapples with his role as a witness. Through introspection and discussions with Rodimus, Ultra Magnus ultimately decides to attend the execution as Minimus Ambus, embracing his true self and honouring Megatron's last request. Tensions mount as the time draws near, with Rodimus struggling to cope as Megatron's death approaches. WARNING: Major Character Death

"Debts Are Due, It's Time to Pay"

The camera drones felt as if they were venting down his intake. The hovering hum of the drones buzzing around his restrained helm made him dizzy. He tried to focus on the window of the witness viewing room, attempting to see past his own reflection. Council bots and their alien allies had begun to file in once the bells sounded. Their expressions were professionally neutral. Amidst the sea of blue optics, he sensed their excitement at seeing him in this state, well-contained. He looked further, scanning the lower portion of the room for pinpricks of red other than his own, searching for Minimus.

Legally, Ultra Magnus would have the right to attend as a live witness, being his legal representative throughout the trial and sentencing. He had heard rumors that the council had honored this law from the unprofessional murmuring of guards while he awaited execution in his cell. Though it would be a comfort to see Ultra Magnus, Megatron hoped for Minimus Ambus to step up to the glass for a solemn goodbye.

He knew he was punching above his weight in his final request to Minimus. The fact that he had Magnus’s legal representation at all was an undeserved blessing, and he should have left it at that. However, his passing would feel incomplete if he died knowing his friend continued to live hiding behind that blasted mask of Tyrest.

‘Friend,’ he thought, settling his helm back against the berth, pointedly avoiding looking directly into the cameras. He didn’t have many friends left. Never really had many in the first place, not one overly fond of attachments, and it shows with 99.99% of the known galaxy celebrating behind those cameras. He was aware of at least one mech in mourning and he sincerely hoped Rodimus wasn’t watching the live feed. In truth, it was the most prominent reason he avoided looking at the drones. Drift wouldn’t let him, he hoped, but deep down he knew not even he, with all his strength and intimidation, could force Rodimus from doing what Rodimus wanted to do.

He never intended to get the young captain attached; he didn’t think he could. With all that kid's brash ignorance and selfishness, deliberately endangering the crew for the ‘wow’ factor had Megatron certain his processor would implode before he ever respected that bot as an equal. But now, Megatron held Rodimus in higher regard than any Cybertronian alive. ‘The approval from the universe's most hated mech likely wouldn’t get Rodimus far,’ he thought, ‘But it certainly meant a lot too Rodimus’. He wanted to smirk but not in front of his audience, so he keep his emotions in check; the universe could see the slightest change of his spark pulse.

A galactic council orator had moved into view, preparing for his speech to address the witnesses and multitude of gathered drones. He didn’t see Magnus in the stands. He was entering his last kliks now and was struggling to suppress his growing desperation. Evac’s demeanor had become cold and calculating once the cameras began to transmit, removing her comforting servo from his chassis and keeping her optics glued to the medical monitor. He understood her nonpartisan shift, taking no offense to it; she obviously had a reputation to protect. Still, he felt as though he should acknowledge her kindness, before he missed his chance.

“Evac…” his lips barely moving, attempting to be subtle so viewers wouldn’t know he was addressing her. He knew it would be missed with attention on the speaker of the Council. She didn’t respond with words or a touch, but he knew she would be listening. “…Thank you,” he whispered.

As he expected, it was followed by silence. After a moment, he could hear her shuffle slightly, moving from her seated position behind him. Her peds touched the floor and she rounded the corner on his left side, grabbing his wrist and jostling the cable as she began to uncoil it. Her other servo slipped subtly into his. It surprised Megatron, but he kept his optics forward.

"*You are welcome,*" she responded through chirolinguistics. "* I am under oath and cannot remain as a witness. This will be the last time you will see me.*"

Her servo slipped from his quickly as she finished unspooling the wire, handing the loose end off to another bot hidden in the corner. Turning, the medi-bot nodded curtly before making her swift exit. He was alone now, and very aware of the menacing presence lumbering in his neural net. The jack burned his circuits with every movement. Thankfully, there was enough remnants of sedation to take the edge off. But not enough sedation to block out the isolation. His optics drifted back to focus on the window, slowly coming to terms with the fact that Magnus – Minimus- would not be coming. He didn’t feel a sense of betrayal as he thought he might, he only felt cold nothingness and a reminder that no one owed him anything.

“Today we stand together as witnesses of a justice long anticipated by billions. Together, Cybertronians, colony worlds and allies of the galactic council shall close the book on the darkest stain of our past and move towards a brighter future.”

Megatron rolled his optics. They should have let him write his own send-off, lest it actually be memorable.

---

“-our past and move towards a brighter future.” The voice of the orator was muffled behind the metal door. Minimus all but hurled himself at it, not caring for the potential interruption it may have caused. He was showing up five kliks late to the most significant event of modern Cybertronian history, and he was showing up naked and bloodied. Reputation be damned to the pits. The door spilled open faster than he had anticipated, stumbling messily into the crowded room of towering mechs, who turned in unison to stare. Bewildered. There was a quick, confused pause from the orator, but with practiced professionalism, he continued with his pretentious sermon.

The confused stares continued as his identity was clearly being questioned. Cowering slightly at the foreign feeling of being looked down upon, he almost felt the need to explain himself.

Almost.

His timid blemished faceplates hardened with resolve, and with a venting huff of vigor, Minimus stood to his full height, marching forward. No one needed to know who he was, the door opened for him, that would be enough. Let the council mechs piece it together in their own time.

“Pardon” He pushed between the legs and drapes of bots who didn’t step out of his way, and he did so without apology, determined to make it to the front.

“Megatron of Tarn, founder of the Decepticon movement, terrorist instigator of the manual class uprising, Warlord of the Cybertronian civil conflict, and genocidal tyrant responsible for the deaths of trillions: cybernetic and organic…”

Minimus could see the window through a forest of legs and armor plating. Panicking, he began to run with helm low and arms bracing, dozing and squeezing his way desperately past bots now. He managed to push through into the front row, stumbling out of the frontlines and jumping up to the window like a sparkling, he pull himself into view. 'I’m here!' he reassured in his head. 'I’m—' He locked optics on Megatron through the window, and his determined expression dropped in an instant as his spark’s adrenaline was replaced with dread.

Time slowed with shock as his optics wandered over Megatron, frame bound and exposed in such vulnerability it made his bruised tank churn in sympathy. Megatron was a mech who let few near him, let alone witness a hint of weakness. The dim lighting of the chamber emphasized his open spark chamber, pectoralis plating removed and casing pried open with what Minimus could only assume were override codes. The low pulsing hum of medical monitors displaying Megatron’s vitals echoed ominously. It was ironic in a way, the mech who broke away from his chains now gets to die in them. Minimus’s spark felt heavy in his chest in solidarity. He hoped Rodimus wasn’t seeing this, it would be too much.

Megatron’s spark was sea-green, like his own, and it pulsed at a steady practiced pace, displaying a disturbing lack of anxiousness for a mech on their deathbed. Megatron was a bravery bot, detrimentally so, but Minimus could tell this was a sedated calmness. The Ex-warlord could hold his composure in intense situations, but never in vulnerable ones. He dragged his optics back to Megatron’s face. He was smiling brightly. Stupidly so, dentae exposed and all. His optics burning with reassurance and deep gratitude. It was contagious, Minimus’s own lips pulled up at the corners but his optics failed to follow suit. How dare he make Megatron comfort him right now.

Time resumed abruptly, and the drone of the speech was only a distant noise in the background.

"—For the atrocities committed under your reign of terror, you have been sentenced to death by the Council and people of Cybertron."

---

A disturbance in the witness chamber pulled Megatron back into focus. The slight pause of the oration grabbed his attention as light quickly flashed throughout the room. A door opening? Someone arrived? A ping of hope, he heard his vital monitors speed up slightly.  All the bots looked towards the interruption, looking down. He held in a vent as his audience began to shuffle around, some in slight annoyance as they were seemingly pushed aside by a an unseen figure.

Then suddenly, an all too familiar face burst into in the bottom corner of the viewing window. Red optics pierced sharply, unmistakable green face plating contrasted ocean of blue optic tri-colored mecha surrounding him. His little, comical mustache scrunched at the effort of holding himself in view. Megatron couldn’t control his relief, loosing composure as an uncharacteristic smile split out across worn faceplates.

Minimus Ambus.

They locked optics. Despite his deactivated systems and corrupted senses, Megatron could physically feel Minimus’s shocked horror at the sight. It was not an expression he cared for. ‘It’s okay, Minimus,’ he attempted to project some semblance of soothing reassurance through his stare. But it wasn’t a talent he excelled at. Despite the barriers, it seemed to be communicated. Tension eased slightly from Minimus’s frame as a gentle smile broke out on his lips, optics poorly masking his restrained turmoil. With his optics, Megatron pressed, ‘Don’t mourn for me,’ his smile relaxing to mimic Minimus’s gentle grin. ‘I deserve much, much worse.’

The harsh words of the orator sentencing him to death brought Megatron back to reality. Perhaps smiling through the listing of his charges wasn’t conducive to the image of the ‘changed mech’ he supposedly was, but frag it, it changed nothing now. He would much rather see Minimus smile than save face for the cameras. The cameras…Rodimus.

Megatron shifted his gaze to locate a media drone, twisting his helm to look directly into its lens. Though he hoped Rodimus wasn’t invested in the livestream, he knew better. With a light smirk and a reassuring nod, he saluted to his co-captain—No, his captain. It was an incomplete salute with servos restrained, but he hoped it was the acknowledgment Rodimus needed. A thank you to his friend, as only Primus knows the immense amount of patience and forgiveness Rodimus displayed during their adventures.

“…the appalling nature of your crimes would otherwise revoke the right for last words, lest you use them in martyrdom…” the orator was addressing Megatron directly now, his voice dripping with dramatic menace. “However, with the role you played in the Luna 1 crisis, the orator of your defense swayed the council to generously grant you final words, a privilege which shall be revoked instantly if inappropriate conduct is observed.”

Megatron turned to face the live witnesses. He did not have a planned statement prepared, didn’t think he would need one. He was honestly surprised he was still alive at all. These bots who stood before him wouldn’t care for anything he would have to say, and an apology now would be hollow and meaningless. Why waste his words on a universe no longer listening, only watching, anticipating the next phase? He looked to Minimus. The small bot was still standing in the front row, balancing on the tips of his peds, desperately listening. One of the few bots still listening. One of the only bots left who appreciated his articulate words. He recalled warmly a moment they shared on the Lost Light, during their final toast. He knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“You flare, you flicker, you fade…” He began, voice gentle and laden with finality. He wasn’t addressing the masses. No, this was a personal conversation.

Tears welled up in Minimus’s optics, yet he kept his smile firm as he began to mouth the words alongside Megatron, placing a small servo on the screen of the viewing window and resting his chin on the sill. “Till all your tomorrows become yesterdays…” Megatron’s optics were unwavering, though he did catch the movement in the corner of the room. An unknown medical bot stepped into view, working on the monitor he was connected to. A command code shot past his corrupted firewall, startling him with a hitch of his vents. Suddenly exhausted, he realized he was going into stasis. He wasn’t finished yet!

“Do not yield to broken ways,…” He jolted, shaking his helm, fighting. "That seek to bind us, keep us slaves…"

Minimus’s eyes widened. It was another poem, one famously chanted throughout the streets of all major cities prior to the Deception insurrection. A verse shared by many, which became famously intertwined in both ideologies as the war developed. It was released anonymously, originating from the underground fighting pits of Kaon. Or at least it was thought. It seems that Megatron published anonymous works in several lower caste languages and cities to throw the senate off his scent.

“Till battles are won, till tyrants fall-“ His optics were going offline; he couldn’t control them any longer, but he kept them focused on Minimus as they faded, green faceplates blurring, grey waning in the peripheral. He could feel his intake slowing, slurring. He wasn’t finished yet! The monitor behind his helm hummed slower and slower as his processor slowed. Thoughts were slowing, staggering. He held on desperately to the words he needed to say.

Minimus grew ever more uncomfortable watching him struggle, but he held fast. He made a promise to not look away until the very end. It was the only comfort he could give. He leaned in closer to the screen, helm touching the glass.

A medic could not administer the kill code. The medibot stepped away from the panel, nodding to a blacked figure to take control. This figure, blurred in Megatron’s peripheral, stepped up quickly. A satisfied smile painted their white faceplates, and the contrast was such that Megatron, with stunning clarity, identified his executioner, even with rapidly fading optics.

Prowl.

He was glad it was Prowl. Megatron knows his death will leave a void in the enforcer. He’ll cope by calling it a sense of satisfaction. A sense of closure. But he will feel nothing. Killing always did that, made you struggle for solace.

“Till…All…” He vented hard to get the words out, fans beginning to stall and hydraulics hissing as they decompressed. He lost his visual feed fully, fighting to keep his helm up and facing Minimus.

“Are-“ His voice was a wheeze of static now, losing all of its bite and intensity as his vocalizer began to seize.

“May the well of sparks be merciful.” Prowl growled mockingly. Impatient as always, he hit the kill button, eyes seething and searing as he attempted to steal Megatron’s lasts word. The medic stepped forward, furiously grabbing his wrist and pulling it back, but it was too late. The code had been sent.

Megatron, as far gone as he was into a stasis shutdown, felt it instantly. The medical port searing on his left wrist caused him to recoil, weakly baring his dentae and interrupting his thought. The malicious code harbored in his subsystems exploded outwards, infecting and forcing the shutdown of the remainder of his systems. His helm fell back to the berth in a breathless gasp. The code burned through his neural network; he could hear the whirling whine down of his systems stalling, vitals failing, fuel pump halting, motor relays shot. The Spark monitor was beeping and droning in concern behind his helm. The sound was moving further and further away; distant now. The code was moving to his spark, and that would be it. He had one more word left, one more word. With all the strength and determined stubbornness he could draw on, for all his worth, he fought, he fought harder than he ever did in the mines, the pits, the war. He had always been fighting for his words, fighting by his words, now, He fought with everything for his last word. For Optimus, for Rodimus, and especially for Minimus…

“…One…” he whispered nearly voicelessly. The code reached his spark, and he let go instantly, ready to rest. Everything went dark. Thoughts. Feelings. Conscious. Quick. Painless…Peaceful.

------

The surface of Cybertron was ablaze with thunderous noise and celebration. The magnitude of jumping and prancing in the streets of the great cities shook buildings. Chants, songs, cheers, and whistling filled the air to the near limit of Cybertronian aerospace, registering on satellites and moons. Light shows of fireworks and aerial acrobatics encouraged the excitement and festivities to continue, but not much encouragement was needed. The oil house was no exception, with the cheering so loud and consuming it caused the optical feed to fizzle with the frequency and intensity.

Megatron’s slack faceplates haunted Ratchet more than he cared to admit. He said he wasn’t going to watch, but it was difficult, given the circumstances. It was a clean clinical kill, he rationalized, definitely more than that slag bastard deserved. However, it certainly made it no easier to watch. The monitors continued to display Megatron’s cooled frame like a trophy, and it disappointed the Autobot in the old medic. Bots used to flood to the Koanian pits like this, prancing and cheering over dead mechs. Ratchet shook the thought, no need to stoke his already bitter fire. He had other concerns to manage.

Luckily, the rambunctiousness of the bar distracted from the hunched form of Rodimus at the bar. He was sobbing silently into his servos, his whole body shaking as he struggled to pull in vents. It was grief Ratchet had not seen in a long time, not even when news of Optimus’s death reached Cybertron. He had faith that Rodimus would pull through, that was until Megatron’s smiling goodbye, and now? He wasn’t so sure.

Drift was draped over Rodimus’s frame like a protective blanket, holding him close to his chest. He hummed and shushed soothingly as he rubbed gentle circles down the side of his faceplates like consoling a lost and orphaned sparkling. Ratchet's spark squeezed uncomfortably. He stepped towards them from his shadowy corner of the hall, sensing Drift's need for backup.

Ratchet placed a hand on Rodimus’s shoulder, leaning in slightly to let him know he was there, but he didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say. Instead, he defaulted to medic mode, monitoring Rodimus’s internal temperature and ventilations. A coping mechanism, a nice little remnant from the war. It wasn’t long before Ratchet felt Drift bury his faceplates into the side his neck, optics offline and expression pinched, EM field flared uncomfortably. The medic realized he wasn’t backup for Rodimus anymore. Extending his other arm around Drift's shoulder, he pulled the two speeders close to his chest, resting his chin on the back of Drift's helm. They held that position for quite some time, unseen and forgotten in the midst of the celebration of the planet.

"Minimus," Ratchet pinged urgently over comms. "Wakes happening now, better get a move on…"

The noise was deafening. It reverberated through his body, rattling his plating, rendering it impossible to think. Luckily, he wasn’t thinking at all. The witness room had erupted in celebration, as if they had reached the end of a countdown to a new cycle. The sound was a muffled roar in his audio receptors, with a piercing ring cutting through his helm. He swore he could hear the chanting and hollering all the way planet-side. Minimus made not a sound. The only thing he could do was stare.

And he continued to stare long after Megatron’s spark went out. He watched as the monitors flatlined, and the little color that marked his frame bled away to a cold grey, duller than living sentio metallico. Despite everything, it was a peaceful way to go. Megatron looked peaceful. Like in recharge. The little medibot from before had returned, removing cables and confirming the time of death for the historical records. He appreciated that it was her; no one else seemed to have an ounce of respect. The sound never died down.

Minimus was broken from his trance as movement from the corner of the execution chamber caught his attention. Prowl stepped into clear view, also staring at Megatron’s cold frame. He was smiling, clapping even, though it seemed hollow. Forced. Minimus knew the only satisfaction Prowl could get would be slitting Megatron’s throat cablings. It brought an ounce of joy to the minibot knowing the rogue enforcer had lost that opportunity.

Prowl turned his helm, staring directly at Minimus and clapping harder. It made his optics harden and cool into something deadly. Despair spiraled into an unprofessional rage as his grip tightened on the window sill. Prowl approached the viewing screen, clapping in a taunting rhythm now, almost in beat with the cheering of the room. The enforcer made it to the glass, bending down to meet Minimus at face level, his clap slowing to a halt as his smile faded into a crooked grin.

"The bells aren't ringing in Tarn, I hear," Prowl teased through the glass.

Minimus reared on his peds, fist raising hard and fast with a shout and bared dentae, rage exploding from his core, restraint weakened from grief. He plowed his bunched servo into the screen of the viewing window with a resounding crack, disrupting the room amidst the festivity as the force fields recalibrated with a hum. Witnesses and aliens stared at Minimus in silent, baffled confusion, but he remained focused on Prowl, his optics burning with fury.

His hit left no trace on the screen, designed to withstand even phase sixers' violence. All it accomplished was drawing attention to himself, exactly what Prowl had wanted. Minimus vented hard, fist still resting on the screen as he glared at Prowl's smiling face—a coward.

"I suggest you run and hide there," Prowl threatened before pressing a button, causing the viewing screen to fade to opaque orange, the Autobot insignia spinning in the middle.

Taking a slow step back, Minimus tried to control his vents, his rage simmering beneath the surface. His tunnel vision faded enough to notice the room's eerie quietness, and he touched his olfactory sensor, feeling it bleed again. Embarrassment washed over him as he realized the room's attention was fixated on him. A comm pinged urgently, a notification from Ratchet indicating things were going poorly on the surface. He was needed elsewhere now. Glancing back at Megatron's frame before remembering he was alone, Minimus raised a servo to his forehead, ducking his helm low as he made a speedy breakaway to the door.

"If you would excuse me," he chimed quickly as he left, the party continuing without interruption.

He sprinted down the corridor of the gallows, noticing the distinct lack of bots and guards. Good for them, it made disappearing easier. He needed to get off this prison, away from these cruel bastards. His friends needed him, and he needed them more than ever. He had no intention of returning to the hab suite, Magnus's armor be damned. However, as he approached the corridor, he saw a bot standing outside his assigned unit's door—waiting. It was a small bot, the medibot attending to Megatron personally in the execution chamber. What was she doing out here? A violation, but Minimus couldn't bring himself to care.

"Excuse me! Sir!" She threw her arms up, not in authority, but in a plea for attention, holding a shining object in one servo. "I know this is inappropriate, but please wait."

Minimus halted, arms raised slightly in a defensive posture. Unsure who to trust, he observed the medibot's flustered state, mirroring his own. She extended the object—a Rodimus star, weathered and battered, but unmistakably Megatron's.

“He waited…I noticed you…He-“ She stumbled over words, undecided on how to explain. “I found it in his Sub-space. He murmured about getting it to his captain…you look like you know”.

 Minimus's defensive stance softened as he stepped forward to accept it, understanding the risk she took to give it to him. It was the only physical object of Megatron’s left. Illegal to have, but sentimental none the lest. Rodimus would be greatly appreciative of the gesture.  

"Thank—" Minimus began, but she hushed and hurried past him, helm low and disappearing down the corridor as if nothing had happened. He understood, clutching the badge tightly to his chest before subs-pacing it before transforming to vehicle mode. It hurt with his dented plating and bruised internals, but he needed off this hellscape now. He needed to get back down to Cybertron, and back down too Rodimus.

[poetcresc]

“for his anger lasts only for a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” psalms 30:5

i knew his anger well. i knew his people’s judgement well. i found comfort in the late evening and early mornings; i no longer taste the salt in my tears. his favor may last a lifetime, but so do his grudges. if man was truly made in his image, then after a man asks for a thanksgiving following a favor, you should keep eyes behind you at all times. he is likes an ambush, and will keep you in a forever night so you can cry and rejoice for a moment of sunlight.

you have to wait for the promised eternity (death) to receive unconditional joy; isn’t that something? don’t pray for that in advance, that is asking for too much; don’t try and take that matter into your own hands; that is being impatient / anxious in a sinful way. but then again, godliness has been far out of my reach for a while now.

it was intended that i only stay in the night for a moment to endure his ‘short’ anger. but i’ve made a home in the darkness. i have learned to love the tracks of my tears. i have learned to not fall for the promises of daylight in exchange for over the top praise and joy with conditions. i can’t be thankful for a community that rejoices in your failures and uses god as a scapegoat to avoid providing that ‘love’ and ‘help’. you don’t learn to trust his followers and your neighbor, you learn to be scared of them. so of course you only trust yourself. of course you avoid falling because the moment your head hits the ground, a boot is met to your temple and a victory cry escapes the other sinners lips versus empathy or concern.

accountability will never meet them, accountability only seems to have vendetta against you.

know this though; of course your prayers, praises, and love reaches him. of course this is why blessings roll onto your lap and at the end of your hard work. because i see his favor in the glow of your skin. but i don’t hold out hope anymore for myself. i like the night; there is such honesty watching the moon and her phases. i like the quiet it brings and sometimes enjoy swimming in all of your emotions. but i had to work to craft my own joy. don’t tell your god either, i worked so hard. because the day your god and i meet, it is because he will finally give me what i’ve asked for; the promised eternity.

[dholwrites]

Idk if you take requests, but would you be up for writing the elezen husbands reactions to the WoL (male, romantically involved with them) being the one taking the hit at the end of Vault instead of Haurchefant?

Time to open up an old wound for everyone ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

I wanted to write a bit more but this is what I could muster at this time period. You didn’t clarify if you meant that they were in a poly relationship with all 3 or if you mean these are separate relationships, so I picked the latter to make it best for everyone. 

Feat. Aymeric, Estinien, and Haurchefant! 

Aymeric

Despite the pain coursing through his body, he rushes over and falls onto his knees to cradle you. The little healing magic he could muster did nothing to ease your pain or mend the gaping hole. He instructed Lucia to support your head, pleading to you to keep your eyes open and on him, not realizing the trail of tears running down his face is enough to crush your heart. Yet he continues to beg for you to hang on as he forces every bit of mana he could to help you. 

It was too little too late. 

When you finally breathe your last breath, Haurchefant and Estinien step in to forcefully pull him away. Estinien heft him onto his back and rush him to a healer without a chance for him to say good bye. His nights in the following few moons were spent in a warm plain bed where the image of your limp body haunts him. Turning every dream into a nightmare. Healers coming and going to check on his wounds, not speaking a word to him of the love he left on the cold ground. 

Estinien was the first to visit him, clamping through the window as if it wasn’t yalms off the ground. He didn’t offer any words, simply standing by in quiet comfort. It was all he needed, for the gravity of your death to sink in. Only then did he allow for himself to grieve. A loss of a hero, a friend… a love. 

Estinien

Is Halone playing a cruel trick? First, he lost his family and she refuse to allow him into her halls. Now she takes you instead. The dragoon appreciates the fact that Haurchefant attempts to save you. He should be doing that. He should be taking you to a healer. Yet his body refuses to move. He simply stood there, as if he was the one struck instead. 

It was as if the Twelves also wept during your funeral. Rains poured down in buckets and gray clouds stretching for miles almost threaten to smother everything under it’s weight. The air felt thin where he could barely breathe. He found himself watching from afar as your friends and family said their goodbyes. It only felt right to stay away, even if he wants to whisper his own farewell.

He doesn’t know how to properly cope with another loss. Instead, he throws himself into battle, just like he has done before. His vision turned blind to everything but his goal to extract revenge in your steed. If that doesn’t kill him, the bottle will. With one hand a jug of mead, the other the locket he had intended to give you, a proposal at the end of the war. Now it’s another item to bury filled with broken promises.

He thought that he had found a new home. The dragoon never considered that you slipped right through his fingers so quickly. 

Haurchefant

He just needed to get there, to get there on time to block the hit, just to be a second faster. Haurchefant pushed his legs to the point of burning. Then the lightning spear brushes past him with ease. It disappeared into your back before he could blink.

The elezen toss his shield aside to catch you before you collapse onto the ground. Was it a blessing or a tragedy that you weren’t dead yet? A chance that you should still be saved, but at what cost? What pain are you bearing to greet him with a blood stained smile? 

Haurchefant scrambled to get you to a healer, any healer. With every step, he whispers a sorry and pleads for you to hang on. He finds himself rambling about every stray thought that cross his mind; your future together, the things he wants to get you, and his sincere wish to see you smiling as you come back from your new adventure.

His heart sunk to his stomach when they whisked you away. He only managed to get a glimpse of them tearing off your armor to take a better look at your injury before he was unceremoniously kicked out. 

He knew. Deep down in his heart and gut, he knew that you aren’t going to come out of those doors. Perhaps you knew too. Why else would you reach out your hand to him and mouth out ‘I love you’? Haurchefant collapse onto his knees, praying desperately that is gut is wrong. It has to be wrong. It needs to be wrong.

[microsuedemouse]

I hadn’t realised before this how many characters there actually were in Dracula, but these last few days - with the cast all coming together, finally, and finding friendship and comfort in one another (especially in the wake of Lucy’s death) - have actually been. SO heartening to read. I don’t think it’s that common in contemporary stories of similar genre/theme to have all these disparate characters find so much love in one another right off the bat; it seems to me that more frequently you’ll get friction amongst at least some of them in order to ratchet up the tension. generally when you have a large cast all meeting, becoming friends, and forming a team, that comes near the beginning of a story. (now, I’ll grant that I don’t know where these scenes fall in the original order of the novel! but being so close to the climax in Dracula Daily makes for a really interesting reading experience.) all of them pulling together at this point is having a startlingly strong emotional impact for me.

(I’m also feeling surprisingly emotional about Mina comforting Arthur. I’ve fallen utterly in love with Mina as a character; she’s really fantastic - and I guess the idea of Arthur having bottled up all this grief and finally having someone he feels safe in expressing it with… just really Got me. this poor man. bless Mina for being there for him, and for the others as well.)

I dunno - I’m still drowsy and kinda sick rn, and I’m writing this impulsively on my phone, so idk how intelligently this is reading. but I keep thinking that there are some interesting things going on structurally with this version of the story, and I’d be really curious to compare that structure with the original novel’s order at some point to see how they differ. the Daily version is definitely providing some unexpected emotional beats, at least for me, and I’m interested in how similar or different those beats are from those delivered by the story in its intended order.

[trollishly]

Valkyrie Pt. 5 • Ivar X Reader

A girl shows up bloody and beaten to Kattegat. The Queen and her sons take an interest in the girl, especially Ivar.

Warnings: Gore, Swearing, Mentions of sex, Angst, Anything you'd expect from Vikings

The harsh chilled wind of Kattegate’s forest whipped the the thick furs that laid upon her shoulders. The forest seemed to be alive, as the trees whined and creaked as the gusts only became stronger. Her breathing became heavier as she quickened her pace towards her desired destination, ambitious for what she seeked.

Her eyes light up as they finally fell upon the individual, though she couldn't help but shiver as her feet finally met the front of their seated position. 

“The Queen...“ Slightly bowed the being, words slurring from their twisted lips. “Ancient One,” Quipped Aslaug as she tucked her gown to kneel before him, “you know why I am here, we’ve spoken of this matter before.“ Rushed the Queen in a desperate manner. The Seer let an exasperated grunt, his grotesque tongue running along his lips in thought. “The girl from your vision, you speak of her, you’ve spoken to her.” Hummed the cloak individual, while Aslaug only nodded hoping for him to continue.  

"Well what is it that is troubling you my Queen?" Aslaug rolled her eyes slightly, "I wish to know if my visions are once again correct, or am I mistaken and she is actually a threat to my kingdom?"

"You ask difficult questions, always questioning." He grinned, "However, I shall give you comfort by saying that what you see, is in fact true my Queen." Aslaug let out a breath of relief she hadn't known she was holding, refraining from smiling, which she found herself doing more often as of late. "The gods have blessed us with a great gift..." Croaked the Seer, "A Valkyrie." Spoke the two in unison.

•••

Soft knocks echoed throughout the quaint room, and with nobody acknowledging it, a hush voice followed. "I'm coming in." Spoke Ubbe as he push the door open which dragged along the uneven floor.

There laid Frode, in bed and struggling to inhale evenly. His glazed over eyes drifting to look at the intruder. Ubbe watched as the boy clench his hand firmer around the one that laid upon his, the hand belonging to non other than his sister.

Y/n was slouched against Frode's bed, half her weight on her knees and the other on the edge of the bed. She looked as if she hadn't slept for days, which was half of the truth. If it weren't for Y/n's recent episodes of passing out, she would've been up like usual, her sleep schedule being far from healthy.

"Is she asleep?" Asked Ubbe, stepping further into the room. Frode tried to speak in denial, however, he found himself unable to speak, his voice caught in his throat as another fit of coughs erupted from him. With Frode at a loss, he was not able to warn Ubbe as he reached out to shake his sister awake. Y/n flinched harshly from his touch, rolling away from him and onto her feet. They both stood still, however, Y/n seemed to be on guard due to his presence. Ubbe tilted his head, trying to catch the girl's gaze, but she seemingly refused, not wanting him to see her at her weakest, as her eyes were red and puffy from her night's worth of crying over her brother.

"Sorry to disturb, but my mother asked me to invite you to come eat with us." Ubbe simply said, "I would of sent a thrall, but it seems you've scared them all half to death." Chuckled the man as he refrained from coming any closer.

"No, but thank you." Replied Y/n, turning to tend to her little brother once more. Frode quickly grasped his sister wrist and pulled a pleading face at her. "Y/n, you were never one to deny food, please go. I promise I will be fine." Comforted Frode as he begun to push Y/n away. "You need fresh air, you shouldn't be near me. I am not well," he paused briefly by taking a breath as he tried not to cough, "with you still being injured, it could become deadly if you were to stay near me and get sick." Finished the boy, relieved to see that his persuasion was beginning to work as his sister's frown lessened.

"He'll be fed and watched yes?" Questioned Y/n as she turned to face Ubbe. He nodded reassuring her, "A thrall will tend to your brother's every need."

Y/n began to debate in her head, not for long though, as her thoughts were interrupted by a loud growl that came from her stomach. "Okay." Agreed Y/n begrudgingly, as she came to pushed the hair from Frode's face before leaving the room with Ubbe following closely behind.

•••

"Uh- pardon?" Stuttered Ubbe shaking himself from his trance. Y/n spoke up and repeated herself, "I said, the Queen is very generous. All of you are, you could have left my brother and I to die." Expressed Y/n as she kept her head facing fowards as she walked alongside the prince.

Ubbe blinked down at the girl, inspecting her appearance, which he did more often than he'd like to admit, especially in the little time he was in her presence. "You should thank the Queen, yourself." He said, looking away when he caught himself staring. "She knows something we don't- a-and I trust her enough to follow her blindly. Not only because she is my mother, but because I believe she is fit as ruler." Spoke Ubbe, his tone indicating he said more than what he intended to.

Y/n's forehead creased slightly at the mention of his mother's knowledge of the unknown, but let him be, by keeping silent as they finally made it to the hall.

Bickering could be heard from a table of cluttering cutlery, a whine drawing the attention of Y/n. "Mother. Tell them to stop tormenting me." Mischievously spoke, who Y/n now knew as Ivar, as he held a hand of a thrall, who sat rigid beside him. His head was lolled to the side as he looked pleadingly towards his mother with a pout.

Ubbe walked ahead of the girl, a snort coming from him due to his little brother's banter. This causing everyone's eyes to not only land on Ubbe, but Y/n as well. Ubbe eyed a seat from across the room, rounding the table and sitting besides Hvitserk, who's eyes kept flickering between Ivar and Y/n curiously, as he continued to shove food into his mouth.

At the speed of which Thor would strike his hammer, Ivar shuffled in his seat, removing Margrethe's hand from his lips and dismissing her with just a wave of his arm. Y/n stood quietly, unsure with what to do with herself, before realizing something that could have been crucial.

"My Queen." Announced Y/n as she bowed her head in respect, looking at her through the thick of her lashes. "Morning Y/n. I am pleased to see that you've joined us once more. Please, take a seat beside me." She said, gesturing to a spot in between herself and Sigurd. As Y/n approached, the Queen gave Margrethe a narrowed side glance, "Get our guest a chair." She stated firmly, causing the thrall to panick as she left her spot beside Ivar and walking towards the nearest chair. Both her and Y/n reached for the chair, clutching it at the same time.

"Please, there is no need." Y/n said gently, lifting the chair from Margrethe's grasp and placing it in its spot. The slave just stepped back and scanned Y/n's form before looking away in a submissive manner.

As Y/n took a seat, the Queen continued their discussion before Ivar had been interrupted. "Now Ubbe, when will you have children?" Asked the Aslaug as she gestured to him with a napkin in hand. He grinned, "I probably already have!" He joked causing the others boys to break out in laughter as he pick at his food to throw it towards his mother. "No I'm serious, each and everyone of you should have a woman by now, even married." Spoke the Queen genuinely, as she looked to each of her boys. All of them eyed each other before shrugging without a care and focusing back onto their food. The Queen pinched the bridge of her nose as she shook her head, turning to face her attention to Y/n.

"It seems my boys are far too immature to have a wife, let alone children, don't you think Y/n?" Smiled Aslaug at the girl, which made the boys pause in their gluttony. Y/n found herself a little caught off guard, as she was never the one to get romantically involve, spending most of her time training or raising her brother.

"I don't believe my opinion would have much value my Queen." Began Y/n as she kept her attention solely on Aslaug, "But since they are the King and Queen's children, heirs are expected from them..." Aslaug seemed pleased with Y/n's answer as her lips quirked slightly, "Hmm, and do you have a husband, or lover, for that matter?"

Y/n cringe internally, knowing what Frode would say to the Queen if he had the opportunity. "I don-" However, Aslaug cut her short. "I'm speaking nonsense aren't I? Of course you would. You are a very beautiful young woman, and a shield maiden I assume?" Rambled the Queen which seemed suspiciously intentional. Y/n's mouth was left agape momentarily before she quickly closed it, "Yes, I am a shield maiden my Queen." She said keeping her answer curt.

Hvitserk began giggling cheekily, as he watched the way Ivar strained himself by pressing his palms against the bench. Pushing his torso upwards as he leaned on the table, in hopes of getting a better view of his mother and Y/n as they conversed. Sigurd scowled at his little brother's enamored behavior. Still upset at his earlier possessiveness of Margrethe, especially after she had confided in him the night before.

"As I was saying, you don't need to love the woman to breed with them." Explained the Queen, making Y/n bow down to eat her soup as she try her hardest to block out the conversation; one that she had already deemed as a personal family matter. As Aslaug continued to chatter, Y/n's eyes scan the room as she spooned the food into her mouth, making accidental eye contact with Hvitserk as he copied her actions. He grinned at her as the soup messily dribble down his chin, until an aggressive voice broke his playful staring.

"What is wrong with you?" Quipped Ivar as he now leaned further onto the table staring daggers at Sigurd, "Nothing is wrong with me," spat Sigurd making Hvitserk and Y/n glanced at each other, with Hvitserk widening his eyes at her humorously. "I just wanted to know if she has love anyone except Harbard..." Silence followed making Y/n sit up uncomfortable, "You remember Harbard don't you?" Sigurd continued sparing everyone a glance but his mother.

Ubbe sat stoney still and so did Hvitserk, but Ivar pushed on, with his arms now crossed loosely, "Of course she has loved another," he stated to Sigurd while nodding. "She has always loved me... isn't that right mother?" He urged while smiling at his mother, his eyes briefly catching Y/n's, who was sat just behind Aslaug from his position. However, the Oueen didn't speak and just nodded as she swallowed her drink discreetly.

Y/n's eyebrows raised at Aslaug's reaction, wondering as for why the Queen wasn't being more reassuring to her son, "She just pities you Ivar, just like the rest of us. Y/n probably feels sorry for you too, especially when you look at her with so much desperation." Ivar flinched at Sigurd's words, anger and embarrassment building within him. "and sometimes, we wish mother had left you to the wolves." He smoothly said, as if it weren't something completely vile. Y/n couldn't comprehend how someone could be so cruel, mainly to their family.

"Sigurd!" Demanded the Queen, with Ivar continuing to glare at his brother trying to sort his feelings internally, "What?" Was all he replied with, before resuming his breakfast.

Y/n found herself wanting to put Sigurd in his place, but refrained from doing so as nothing but consequences would come from it. A drag of a chair turn Y/n's attention back to Ivar, as he was now standing tall at the end of the table. This caused Sigurd to haphazardly throw his spoon onto the table, scoffing at Ivar's display.

Ivar began scooting from his seat, supporting his weight briefly on his mother's chair, with her cooing at him to calm his temper. Her attempts went unnoticed as he continued, with his left hand wavering, before it had finally landed on the back of Y/n's chair. Ivar and the girl gazed at each other, with her turning within her seat to make room for the young prince. Ivar was now hesitant, mainly now that he was the closest he had yet been to Y/n, not helping himself as he caught of whiff of her aroma that furthermore attracted him to her. Ivar's forearm gently grazed Y/n's hair as he pulled himself from one chair to another, as he heard Sigurd still taunting him.

"Come on Boneless!" He teased as he stood from his chair now that Ivar was near. Everyone was now standing, Y/n situating herself just behind Ivar. Bowls and utensils fell to the floor as Sigurd pulled a chair from underneath Ivar making him collapse with a painful sounding thud. Y/n reach down to help him, but pause as Hvitserk gestured to her not to from the corner of her eye.

Ivar's frustrated huffs filled the room, his nostrils flaring as he forcefully began to drag himself towards his target. Sigurd's harmful jabs continued, with the Queen now walking up towards Ivar and passing Y/n, who couldn't help but stand and watch how this would play out.

Sigurd seemed to grow tired of this little game, quickly turning and pushing the doors of the hall open, making the bright light bleach the room with a stark white wash, highlighting Ivar's enraged features.

Ivar chased Sigurd out of the room causing a loud scream to rip from his throat, with the Queen attempting to hold him back.

•••

End of part 5.

•••

Notes: Thank you all so much for 50 followers! Had to finish and post part 5 today for you all!

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius, @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog, @midnightmystic

Ask to be tagged!

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Five: Just A Man

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Fluff! (It's getting cute y'all!), death of a parent, grief, smoking, food, Silas🤢, a little sad Ezra in this one

W/C: 4k (made it a little longer to make up for the wait! 🥺)

A/N: We are back! I'm so so so sorry this took so long to get out! What can I say, life happened & kept knocking me down & I couldn't find the strength to write for this fic. I'm still not even completely happy with this chapter, but after reading it so many times, I think it's okay lol a huge thanks to everyone for being so patient & lovely to me ♥️ okay, I'll shut up, hope you enjoy!

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

~MAY EIGHTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As the days and weeks passed, Ezra finally felt comfortable enough to join you and Pa for meals at your family table, sitting and eating quietly until responding to a thought or question of Pa’s. It felt nice. It felt…warm and natural. As opposed to the slight coldness you’ve felt sitting with Pa, without your mother. Though it was still as quiet as your meals alone with your father, the silence now was more comforting.

You realized shortly after that last evening under the tree with Ezra what exactly ails you when near him, why exactly your pulse quickens and you feel heat flush your neck and cheeks. It was a startling conclusion, given that you have been inexperienced when it comes to the term ‘love’, outside of the love you felt for Ma and Pa. This, with Ezra, contrasts immensely.

It had caught you off guard, a small infatuation with the man that you realized must have taken hold of your heart from the first moment you met him, when you simply could not remove your eyes from his face. You now find your eyes lingering on his features longer, learning the curve of his smile, the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, memorizing the tone of his voice and his laugh to be replayed in moments of silence.

It’s strange; a simple emotion that you had witnessed your whole childhood into adulthood from your Ma and Pa, an emotion you carry in your heart for each of them, though the way you experience it now, the strength in which it has grasped onto your very being – and so suddenly – has been enough to make the room spin whenever you lay your eyes on him. The idea of taking a husband has never been one of priority. Up until now, at least.

“Many thanks for the delicious meal, miss. I am grateful you have welcomed me into your home as such,” Ezra says as he stands, helping you take the soiled dishes to the wash basin.

“You have always been welcome, Mr. Prospect. I am glad you now feel comfortable joining us,” you say with a gentle smile, looking up at him as he approaches you with the dishes. You catch a faint hue of pink spreading across his sun kissed cheeks.

“Would you care for a pipe, Mr. Prospect?” Pa calls out as he sits in his chair by the fireplace, beginning to pack away tobacco in his own pipe.

“I very much appreciate the offer, sir, however I do not smoke,” Ezra replies kindly as he turns away from you to face Pa and you begin washing.

“Good man; do not start the nasty habit until you become old and worn as I am now,” Pa jests.

“I only see a wise man, years of strength and kindness the only evidence that you have lived a wonderful life thus far,” Ezra compliments and Pa releases a hearty laugh.

“As I said: ‘old’,” Pa replies and both Ezra and you laugh along.

The genuine and natural lightheartedness of the conversations Pa and Ezra shared tonight warms your heart and you realize tonight has been one of the few nights you’ve smiled so freely, so frequently, since Ma’s passing and you strongly sense her spirit surrounding the three of you. Almost as if you could hear her laughing along with you all.

Although a feeling of sadness lingers in your heart that she cannot be here physically, you remember Ezra’s kind words and let them ease you. The comfort you feel wash over you leaves you pondering if it’s a sign of acceptance from above, from Ma, that she welcomes Ezra’s presence amongst you and Pa.

“Can I be of any assistance, Sunflower?” Ezra turns and asks quietly, out of earshot of Pa and addressing you by his personal endearment he has bestowed upon you.

“Thank you for offering, Ezra,” you reply just as softly. His given name had nearly slipped from your lips on more than one occasion tonight, but you felt it best to remain coy in front of your father. “I’m nearly finished now.”

“Perhaps tomorrow night. I will not miss my chance then to be of service,” he smiles and the inside of your cheek stings from the bite you dealt to keep from grinning widely. “I will take my leave for the night. The lovely beasts I room with will be missing my presence, I fear,” he says, loud enough for Pa to hear as well and Pa chuckles at his statement.

“Always a pleasure to have you for dinner, Mr. Prospect,” Pa says and stands to shake Ezra’s hand. “Daughter, would you be so kind as to walk Mr. Prospect to the door?”

“Yes Pa,” you nod, abandoning the soapy dishes for the time being and you wipe your hands to dry on your apron as you head towards the door with Ezra.

Pa smiles again in Ezra’s direction as he walks past and takes his seat once again, watching the flames dance and flicker. Ezra opens the door, allowing you to walk through and step on the porch and he follows suit, shutting the door behind him.

“Shall I walk you to the barn?” You offer.

“No, Sunflower, I would prefer you to stay. The dark of night may carry with it many dangers lurking around the corner.”

“All the more reason I should walk with you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around the wooden support post as you watch him step down into the dirt.

“Then I would intend on escorting you back here and we will only find ourselves repeating the action for one another until daybreak,” he chuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Sunflower.”

“Tomorrow,” you smile and nod. “Good night, Ezra.”

“Good night,” he bows his head in farewell and turns on his heels to head toward the barn. You linger a moment longer to assure he is well on his way, waving when he turns back to steal another glance at you.

You take a deep breath to calm your galloping heart and turn to walk back inside, Pa sitting quietly as he continues smoking. You head back to the wash basin to finish the chore, rinsing, drying, and putting away the dishes before heading over to sit next to Pa, grabbing a new book from your small collection.

You decided to leave Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to read with Ezra under the tree and the image of the two of you lying in the grass as you read to him brings a contented smile to your face. After quite a bit of comfortable silence, you feel the curiosity inching through your brain like an insect and decide to give in to the itch.

“H-how are the crops faring, Pa?” You ask while picking at the corner of your book.

“They grow fine,” Pa replies simply. “Each and every week another inch to their lives added.”

“And… Mr. Prospect has been much help?” You continue carefully.

“Oh yes, he has taken on the majority of the labor. We are blessed that he sought to help us.”

“Yes,” you smile softly as you lower your head slightly, gathering the courage to continue the conversation. “And… How do you feel about… Mr. Prospect?”

“What do you mean, child?”

“The townspeople think him...odd.”

“They must reflect on themselves before passing that judgement onto an innocent man. Especially the four hens, as you like to call them,” you giggle and look up at Pa, a slight smirk hidden beneath his thick, grey beard as he lets out a deep chuckle.

“Yes, but… What do you think of Mr. Prospect?”

“Why the curiosity, daughter?” He asks, though no irritation is found in his voice; instead, a light-hearted tone, one of knowing. Knowing why you insist on finding out his opinion.

“Merely curious, Pa,” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear over the crackle of the fire.

“Hm,” he hums as he inhales smoke through his pipe, taking his time to retrieve an forthright answer from his mind while you gaze at him in anticipation.

“He is an honest man. Good and kind. A hard worker. I believe he is fit to be a lawful husband to any girl who seeks his affection,” he finally says, looking deep into your eyes and his words go straight to your fast beating heart.

You catch the smile on your face growing, evident in the strain you feel across your cheeks and you put your head down to face the book in your lap.

“That's nice,” you reply once you've cleared your throat and regained control of the muscles on your face.

“Yes. Yes it is,” Pa smirks as he inhales another puff from his pipe.

~MAY TENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Today is as exhilarating as the rest; you attempt to sort through the inventory of the shop, taking note of which supplies are dwindling while also marking down new items the townspeople have requested, such as candles and playing cards for the children. As you walk toward the back of the shop, beginning your count of products there, the shop bell dings and you hear boots stomping from whoever has stepped through the door.

“Just a moment, please,” you call out to the customer from over your shoulder, hoping not to lose track of the count in your head.

“Please, do not rush, Sunflower,” a gentle, familiar voice replies and you feel your heart thumping faster in your chest now as you turn quickly, inventory be damned.

“Ezra,” you greet the man standing meekly at the front of the shop. He takes a few steps forward to meet you beside the counter. “What brings you to town? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, no thank you, Sunflower. I needed to send a letter off at the post and thought that my day would be much brighter were I able to visit you as well,” he says with a soft grin and you lower your head to hide the bashful expression on your face.

“Well, my day has brightened now, too,” you reply, gaining the courage to look up at him again, the apples of his cheeks reddening. “I trust you were promptly taken care of then?”

“Yes, Mr. Williams is a kind man,” he nods. “The elderly woman who works there as well – she is quite the conversationalist,” he releases a soft laugh.

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Williams,” you shake your head. “She actually does not work there, just adores to be in the center of it all,” you jest and Ezra chuckles. “I do hope she was not too overbearing.”

“Only slightly,” he shrugs. “After you and your Pa, her and Mr. Williams have treated me the kindest since my arrival.”

“Oh Ezra,” you share a perturbed look. “I am truly sorry for the way the town has behaved.”

“Sunflower, you have no reason whatsoever to apologize for the actions of others. Unfortunately, this town has not been the most unpleasant I’ve come across. I was very lucky to have found you. And your Pa,” he rushes the last phrase and you smile knowingly, his mouth curving slightly as well.

You open your mouth to continue the conversation, the innocent coquetry between you, yet no sounds are released from your mouth before the shop bell dings again and you sigh at the interruption. You turn your head and your racing heart, caused by Ezra’s presence, races faster, only in anger now.

“And what do we have here?” Silas’s booming, uninvited voice resonates through the shop. “What business could a queer like you have to conduct in town?” He looks at Ezra and you step in front of him.

“I told you not to call him that, Silas.”

“It does not seem he’s made any purchase,” he says, making a show of looking in Ezra’s hands for any paper bag. “Yet he is allowed to stay and converse while you toss me in the dirt.”

“Go away, Silas.”

“Sunflower-” Ezra calls gently from behind you, unable to finish his thought.

“‘Sunflower’?!” Silas laughs. “She does not need a freak to endear her, not when she has a real man. Like me.”

“Silas, he is more of a man than you could ever hope to be,” you spit out.

Of all the times you had the opportunity to speak your mind to Silas, you held back. Though, now that it is directed to Ezra, you feel that innate protectiveness for him wash over you again, no matter the cost or consequence.

“You dare say such a thing to me, girl?” Silas takes a menacing step forward.

“She is not a girl and you will not speak to her as one,” Ezra moves to stand in front of you now. “And I do believe she has requested for you to take your leave.”

“And exactly who will force me out? You?” Silas puffs out his chest, as if he were attempting to assert his role as an alpha, and frustration grows on his face at Ezra’s lack of response to the tactic.

“If I must.” Ezra replies simply and calmly, the tone of his voice even, though underneath lies a hidden message that he would not back down from a brawl, if it were to come to that.

“Ezra, please, he isn’t worth it,” you say softly, reaching out to hold his forearm.

“Oh, aren’t I?” Silas scoffs.

“I will summon Sheriff Wilson here to collect you himself if you do not leave my shop right this instant,” you hold your unyielding gaze to Silas’s, raising your chin slightly so as to challenge him to defy your wishes.

Silas hmph’s, his thick brows arching menacingly as he glances down at where your hand rests firmly on Ezra’s arm, clearly displeased at the contact. You feel Ezra’s form tense next to you, and you use your free hand to lightly press against his back in an effort to calm him.

“Fine,” Silas finally says harshly as he turns his back to you and Ezra and stomps to the door.

He looks over his shoulder one more time at the two of you and something about his animalistic eyes sends a nasty shiver down your spine. Before he can see you falter, he rips the door open, walks through, and slams it shut, rattling the frame as he leaves. You exhale shakily and Ezra turns his body to face yours, his hands gripping onto your upper arms as his eyes rake over your face in concern.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?”

“Oh Ezra,” you gaze at him thoughtfully. “It should be me asking you that same question.”

“Please, don’t worry about me. My only concern is you,” he continues, his eyes trying to follow yours as you look away from him. “Does he come here unannounced often? Has he bothered you before?”

“Ezra, he has always been a thorn in my side, but it is nothing for you to concern yourself with. I promise,” you look in his eyes, hoping to convince him, but you suspect it does not work and his hands fall from your arms.

“Sunflower… I did not appreciate the way he looked at you and spoke to you.”

“It’s alright Ezra, it is not anything I can’t handle,” you smile and grasp one of his hands in both of yours, squeezing it gently as reassurance.

You’re unsure of what to say. What could you say? That up until now you have been cowardly when it came to Silas Taylor? That it was not until Ezra’s arrival to town that you have come to know a stronger side of yourself, willing to risk your already frail reputation to defend this man’s name?

Ezra sighs heavily, staring into your eyes a moment longer before looking away. You watch his eyebrows crinkle together, the worry wrinkles along his forehead becoming more prominent as he reflects on the situation that just passed.

“Are you alright? Please… Do not take anything he says to heart,” you say softly and your kind voice pulls him back from his thoughts and to this moment with you. He smirks and huffs a chuckle through his nose.

“No fear, Sunflower. It is not a trial I cannot handle,” he cocoons your hands in both of his and squeezes lightly, as if to reassure you he is alright. “I will go now, Sunflower.”

“I understand,” you nod. “Then… I will see you back at the farm for supper.”

He smiles to acknowledge your words, releasing your hands and heading to the door. He turns once more to nod his goodbye, places his hat back on his head, and walks out the door. You walk to the front of the shop to watch him through the window, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped forward as he walks swiftly to leave the area.

Your head feels on fire, ready to blow steam at any moment as you watch the townspeople around staring at him. They turn to each other, presumably whispering gossip amongst themselves about him. Unfortunately, as you have come to know Silas, you know he will be spreading word of the ‘threat’ he felt from Ezra, which you surmise will only result in the townspeople turning their backs on Ezra even further.

~MAY TWELFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Ezra had not shown up for supper that night or the night that followed. You had wanted to take supper to him, but Pa advised against it. He had heard on his last trip to town what transpired between you, Ezra, and Silas. You prepared yourself to, once again, defend Ezra, however, Pa’s unabated rancor of Silas all but guaranteed Pa would not believe a word from his mouth.

Pa informed you that when he returned and asked Ezra about the situation, he assured the man that he was not at risk of losing the job at the farm, and while he was grateful, he did not wish to speak on it further. Pa told you to leave him to gather his bearings and you complied.

On your way to the oak tree, you pick two apples as you had done the Sunday prior, and to your earnest disappointment, you do not see Ezra as the tree comes into view. You look left, then right, hoping it was possible he had just walked along the riverbank, but you were alone.

Heaving a sigh, you turn to face the way you came as you debate on heading back. Your weekly tradition almost seemed silly to continue alone, after having been in Ezra’s company the past few weeks. It almost felt...incorrect to spend time here without Ezra now. You take a few steps forward, now under the shade of the tree, sparing another moment in case you missed him.

“Sunflower,” his elated voice from above frightens you and you quickly turn your head to follow the sound, seeing his bright smile from where he sits on a thick branch.

“Ezra! You startled me!” You chuckle as you take a few breaths, covering your racing heart with your hand.

“My apologies,” he chuckles. “I did not hear you walk up otherwise I would have made my presence known sooner.”

“I did not expect to see you in the tree today,” you smile up at him.

“Come, join me,” he smiles, patting the bark to the side of him.

“I have not climbed a tree since I was a child, Ezra. I will fall,” you shake your head.

“I will never let you fall, Sunflower,” he smiles and your now settled heart begins to race again. “It’s simple, really. Nothing to it. I will guide your steps.”

You take a deep breath, pondering for a moment if the risk was truly worth it, but there’s an excitement in this small adventure that you feel your soul reaching for. You smile at Ezra and nod, removing your bag and placing it at the base of the tree.

You follow Ezra’s voice commands as he tells you where to step up and you use more muscles in your body than you have in so long. You heave yourself upwards, careful that your boots do not miss any section of the tree that will have you flying all the way back down.

Finally, you make it far enough for Ezra to take hold of your arm, using his strength now to help pull you up until you’re close enough to attempt to sit. He scoots over, keeping his hand tightly grasped on your arm to make sure you don’t fall. Though, at this point, if you were to fall, Ezra would certainly fall with you.

You plant your bottom firmly onto the branch, breathing heavily and smiling widely at the accomplishment and Ezra chuckles along with you. You try to settle yourself further and suddenly get the sense of falling, reaching out instinctively to hold onto Ezra’s arm and you practically glue yourself to his side for support.

“You will not fall, Sunflower,” he reassures and you feel him lean closer into you to comfort you.

“Pardon me,” you giggle, feeling steady enough now to remove yourself from him. You take a deep breath and look out ahead at the river and the grassland, spotting the other farms in the distance. “Wow,” you say breathlessly. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Yes, it is,” Ezra responds softly. You turn your head to him where you already meet his gaze and turn away again as you smile.

“Oh no,” you gasp as your eyes meet your bag down below. “I left the book… And the apples,” you turn to frown at Ezra.

“Do not fret, Sunflower,” he smiles. “I enjoy your company regardless.”

“Maybe...you could read me more of your prose?” You prod gently, hoping he will be willing.

“Yes,” he says wistfully as he glances down at his journal. “I do like when you read to me, however.”

You smile as he passes his journal to you and you cradle it with care in your hands. You move to open it and the binding opens automatically to one page, clearly still stiff from where he had it open, this addition to the pages only written just recently. You clear your throat and let your eyes dance as they pick up the words in his neat handwriting.

“‘A being from a different universe desires to live amongst the men in peace on Earth, for his purpose to be written in the stars. A nomad, an outcast on the run, desperate for a residence more suitable than his dreams. Soon, he will find home, and soon, he will find life’,” your voice trails towards the end of the passage, your heart wrenching at the meaning behind it.

“Ezra…” You call softly once you notice his head has lowered.

The silence stretches and you can almost visualize it expanding across the lands in front of your view, any helpful or comforting words escaping from your reach. The only conclusion your mind seems to come to is just to place a hand softly on his thigh. You feel his muscle twitch at the contact and he glances over at you, a light tint of pink beginning to spread across his cheeks.

You suddenly feel embarrassed to have placed your hand there and you immediately think to yourself that perhaps it was not welcomed, though before you can remove your hand, Ezra places his own, large and warm, over yours. Your mind settles while your heart beats rapidly. You still do not know what to say, but it does not seem Ezra is expecting for you to say anything at all.

“I’ve missed you at supper, Ezra,” you whisper and grin softly.

“Forgive me for my absence, I was not… I did not feel…” You sense him struggling as he lowers his head again and you place your other hand on top of your intertwined ones.

“I understand; you have no need to apologize.”

He looks at you again and you give him a reassuring smile and he returns the gesture. You two say nothing and let the comfortable silence blanket the air around you while you gaze out to your surroundings again, your hands not leaving each other’s grasp.

“Sunflower?” He calls and you turn to face him again.

“Yes, Ezra?”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @amandalovess @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @magpie-to-the-morning @pbeatriz @radiowallet @stevie75 @honestly-shite @bison-writes @amneris21 @disgruntledspacedad

Ezra Prospect Tags: @quietpainter @grogusmum @tenderwhat

[ladyramora]

G’raha x V’lihn (WoL, male Miqo’te) Fluff 🌼, Angst 🎭

V’lihn belongs to @shinnoya

Major FFXIV Spoilers for FFXIV Shadowbringers, FFXIV Endwalker under the Cut ↓↓↓

......

....

...

Even the most brave, the most confident of heroes did sometimes question and doubt. In the face of the end of days, having suffered and lost so much already, it was not unreasonable to worry. Would they all make it out of this alive? 

There was nothing quite like the threat of the end of everything he knew and loved that put him under pressure and filled him with a sense of urgency. 

So, of course V'linh had finally admitted his feelings. Feelings that had even thankfully been returned. Gods, it had not occurred to him what a rejection might do to him when all hung in the balance. Verily, he had questioned if that were why his confession had been so readily returned, but... 

After everything, Raha had not taken those words back. For that, at least, V'linh could only feel relief. 

Losing Raha after only just confessing to him had very nearly broken V'linh. If not for Alphinaud and Alisaie at his side to spur him forward and give him words of comfort and encouragement, he did not know what he might have done. Perhaps he would have laid down there and cried his heart out. 

But there had been no time for that, they had come so far. They had to finish it. To walk to the end of everything and save all that they held dear. For their world and every other. V'linh could only be thankful that Hydaelyn had given him yet another blessing… The ability to summon back his friends. There was so much he had to be thankful for. 

He could only hope that she had found peace. 

….

Returning to the Rising Stones had been nothing short of a split second decision in the haze of pain. He had not expected anyone to be there to greet him, not even Tataru with her business booming so well in Old Sharlayan.

Old Sharlayan. That was a place he was hesitant to return to. Even knowing that those of the Baldesion Annex would be quick about seeing his wounds treated. It was nonsensical that he was avoiding  G'raha, he knew that.

But what was one to do when you had already done the confession part? After everything that had happened, promises made, apocalypse averted, escaping the jaws of death… After all that, V'linh and G'raha had barely interacted. It was as if they were tip-toeing around one another. Keeping busy, playing a game of avoidance. Of course the other Scions had found out about their almost tragic romance. 

So of course he should have expected that the Scions would notice that he and G'raha had not spent very much time together. He had not expected, however, that the Scions would go so far as to push them together like this.

He had only just sat down on one of the empty beds they had used for the Scions during their soul's stay on the First when the door burst open in a flurry of movement. 

V'linh flinches, bandages clutched in his good hand as he comes face to face with the one person he had been wanting to see, yet avoiding. How had he known he would be here? V'linh frowns. Who had ratted him out?

"Pray, do not be angry with your fellow Scions. I asked to be informed if you should return here in any state less than hale and whole," G'raha says after clearing his throat and closing the door behind him. Locking it behind them. 

Oh no. Did he intend to have a talk? Had he changed his mind after all? 

G'raha gives him an awkward smile, scratching at his cheek as he surveys V'linh's physical state. "Well, I suppose I was misinformed. You seem to have everything well in hand. Still," he walks closer, and gestures next to the hero. "Will it bother you overmuch if I offer mine assistance?" 

V'linh sighs, shaking his head silently as he hands over the bandages. 

"Thank you," G'raha says quietly as he accepts them, dragging a chair up to sit down nearer to him and to take a closer look at the damage. It was harder to ascertain with V'linh still wearing pieces of armor that obstructed the view of his skin, but it had always been that way. V'linh was simply particular about certain things. 

He gets to work in silence, healing the hurts he could see and expending a little more magic in the chance there were those he could not.

Ah, missed one.

Raha's hand brushes just under V'linh's jaw, skimming just at the start of his throat where he had been caught by a claw.

V'linh flinches, snatching his wrist. His lavender-blue eyes wide and posture tense.

Raha pauses, gazing into his eyes. His hand aglow with the shimmering light of healing magic. "...You have a scratch there, right under your jaw," he says gently. "May I tend to it?" 

V'linh grinds his teeth, his expression strained as he thought it over. Giving a jerky nod, his hold loosens on the redheaded Seeker's wrist. 

Raha's hand slips down, his hand hovering over the scratch. His fingers close enough to brush against V'linh's skin if he wanted. But he doesn't. Besides already being cautioned by the other Scions about it, he knew to be careful. V'linh had many scars as most adventurers did, some bigger than others, and not all of them were ones visible on his skin. Perhaps one day, if he were patient, V'linh would feel comfortable enough to share them with him. 

The familiar feeling of Raha's magic washes over V'linh, tingling where it touched. His skin itching and stinging as it knitted slowly back together. 

"There," Raha says softly as his hand drops away. "All better?" He asks. "Are you hurting anywhere else?"

V'linh shook his head, his hands curled into fists atop his knees as he stared down into his lap. A feeling of awkwardness clogging his throat. Why was this so hard?

Raha exhales in a quiet sigh. The air shifting as he moved to sit next to the hero, side by side. He gazes out at nothing as he leans into the other man, his voice calm and near a whisper as he says, "I will not push you, V'linh. And I will not ask you for more than you are willing to give." 

V'linh turns his head to look at him, watching the way Raha's lips quirked up in a rueful sort of smile.  

"Truly, I have asked too much of you already. You and the Scions," Raha murmurs. "And for that I must apologize." 

V'linh sighed and learned his full weight into the Seeker. "You do not need to keep apologizing for that," he tells him. "You did what you thought you had to do."

Raha looks fretful, "but—"

V'linh holds up his hand. "Listen. Do you intend to lie and withhold the truth again?"

Raha frowns, rubbing over his forearms and wrists in that nervous tic of his. "No, but—"

V'linh continues on. "Do you intend to use me? Or attempt to sacrifice yourself yet again?" 

Raha shook his head, red eyes wide and feline ears lowered bashfully. "Of course not!" he mutters fervently, seeming appalled at the mere suggestion of doing so again. He knew how it had upset V'linh the first time around. It was not something he wished to repeat. 

V'linh gazes at him steadily, a smile curving his lips. "Then that settles it. I will hear no more apologies from you unless you have aught to apologize for."

Raha sighs, smiling at him helplessly. 

V'linh clears his throat, rubbing his palms over his thighs as he made to stand up. "Ah. Well. Thank you for the healing…"

"Wait. There is more I must speak with you about," Raha turns to face him then, grasping at his hands. 

V'linh tenses up. "...What is it?" 

G'raha offers him a reassuring smile. "It is nothing troubling. Or at least, I should hope not. We were both avoiding one another, I know that; and you know it, too." His red eyes are intent on V'linh's face. His expression so very earnest as he says, "It is only this… My feelings for you have not changed, V'linh. In fact, I believe they grow by the day. By the hour, dare I say even the minute."

V'linh blinks at him, feeling shy and embarrassed in the face of Raha's fervent affection. Foolish for having avoided the man for the time they had been apart instead of simply talking to one another like adults. He flusters further with the intensity of the other miqo'te's prolonged eye contact, face blushing from his cheeks to the tips of his twitching, furry feline ears. Aught that only worsens at Raha's next question.

"What of you?" He asks. "Have your feelings… changed?"

V'linh could only shake his head rapidly, his heart thumping hard in his chest. "No, no," he replies. "They are… the same as they were when we last spoke of our," he gulps, "mutual feelings."  Why was it so hard still to say the words aloud? His heart felt like it might beat right out of his chest.

The beaming warmth of Raha's smile could make flowers bloom. V'linh cannot tear his gaze away from that handsome face of his.

"Oh, good," the redhead breathes in obvious relief. Then, "May I kiss you?"

The word, "yes," falls from V'linh's lips before he even registers the question. 

But by then Raha was already leaning in, and V'linh shivers from the tips of his ears down to his toes as he came so very close and darted in to press his lips to V'linh's cheek. 

Oh!

V'linh smacks a hand to his cheek where Raha had pressed his lips, lavender-blue eyes wide and face flushed hot. 

Raha gazes back at him, his fair skin as red as his hair. 

V'linh felt as if his heart might burst from his chest as he asks in return, or begins to ask, "May I—?"

"—Yes!" Raha blurts out before he can even get out his entire question. But it was all the better for his nerves as V'linh leaned forward and kissed him in return. 

He means to aim for his cheek the same as the other miqo'te had done, but with his eyes closed his aim is off. His lips landed less on Raha's cheek and more on the corner of his mouth. 

He feels Raha's gasp as well as hears it. 

Meeting that ruby red gaze as he opened his eyes to look at him in flustered surprise. Raha asking again so very quietly, "May I..?" 

V'linh cannot move away then as Raha cups his face in his hands. He could feel the tremble of his fingers. Knowing Raha was feeling just as much he was made him feel a little better, a little more confident.

V'linh leans in before Raha can finish his question, the first true brush of their lips very much chaste. Soft and sweet and full of their mutual feelings. 

Raha gives a tremulous sigh with it, his lips so very soft against V'linh's own. It was as he had suspected. Kissing Raha was exceedingly pleasant. True to his word, he does not push for more. He maintains the pressure and pace V'linh had set. Ever following his lead as he always had done.

V'linh allows their lips to linger in several soft kisses, one after the other. Then he pulls back to look into Raha's face. 

He looks as dazed and giddy as V'linh himself feels. His lips curved up in something of a goofy smile as he blinked almost drowsily. "Is this… Does this mean…? Are we..?" G'raha sighs, holds up a hand for a moment as he breathes deep. Composing himself. 

"Can we continue to see each other again? I… I have missed you. Terribly."

V'linh smiles. "I missed you, too," he tells him, squeezing at his hands. Their fingers slotting together, pressing palm to palm as they gazed into one another's eyes. "I would like that. After all, we made a promise of another adventure together, did we not?"

G'raha gives a beaming grin, ears flickering and his eyes alight with joy. "We did. I will hold you to that."

V'linh laughs. "I expect nothing less."

G'raha leans in, bumping his head against V'linh's. His red hair mixing with V'linh's platinum blond. His eyelashes long and pretty as he closed his eyes and heaved a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness. I did not know how much longer I could continue on as we were. I cannot tell you the many lectures I received from Krile for our behavior. If it is all the same to you, let us never do that again."

V'linh huffs in gentle amusement, indulging himself in leaning against the other man. His arms slipping around him slow in a loose hug. "Sorry," he says in sincere apology. "I honestly do not know why that started. I suppose I was… embarrassed and anxious, and… hoping you would not change your mind. It was foolish."

Raha looks up, those ruby red eyes wide as looked at him like he'd grown another head. "Indeed, incredibly foolish. As was I. But, why would I possibly change my mind after all of that?"

V'linh shrugs. Hells if he knew. 

Raha cradles his face in his hands, sighing at him as his lips puckered out in that boyish pout. "Hahh. What am I to do with you?" 

V'linh's eyes crinkle with his hopeful smile. "Kiss me, perhaps?" 

Raha hums in good humor, squishing his cheeks between his hands. "Well, if you insist," he murmurs, and leans in to kiss him again. 

Yes, this was much better. 

Another adventure surely awaited, but here and now… 

V'linh felt happy. 

[mrskurono]

nanami x fem!reader x gojo

tags: mlm, threesome, oral (giving and receiving), anal, light cum play, anal creampie, slight cucking, semi public

character(s): Nanami Kento (jjk), Gojo Satoru (jjk)

“Please.”

Gojo’s voice no more than a pathetic plead as his pink lips were popped off Nanami’s cock with force. He really had nothing to say as the cock in his mouth was replaced by you grinding your soaked slit down on his face with vigor. With the same exuberance saved for Nanami’s cock stretching his jaw. Gojo was just as happy to swipe his tongue all over your soaked core in an attempt to lick up all your juices that had come from watching him gag on Nanami’s cock.

Fingers taking hold of his white hair to leverage his face up between your legs better. The second his nose pressed against your clit as Gojo’s tongue teased your entrance is enough to send a shiver right up your spine. And if that wasn’t enough Nanami had invited himself to grope at your chest as his cock was being serviced by Gojo’s hand wrapped wonderfully tight around the shaman’s cock.

“Fuck Gojo-” His name went with an exhale through your clenched teeth from his wonderful tongue work. Stepping in on these two was a blessing.

“Don’t give him too much,” Nanami looked down at the shaman gorging himself on you like it was his last meal, “He didn’t earn it.”

Reluctant but always right you have to break away from Gojo’s expert mouth even if you could spend all evening letting him eat you out.

“Aww,” Gojo’s coy grin quickly dipped into a pouty frown, “Y/n your not the one mad at me! Let me finish, Nanami is just being a meanie.”

“Be careful, I’m pretty sure this meanie would be letting you suffer with nothing,” You hadn’t let go of his hair so at Gojo’s cheeky remark you tugged his head back to look up at you both.

Of course he grinned and Gojo’s lips parted ever so slightly with a moan that escaped him. Mostly for show but it never stopped Gojo. Before you could make a move though Nanami had taken your place with his mouth on Gojo’s. Hand around gently against his throat and no need for you to be holding Gojo’s hair anymore. You relinquished the man to Nanami’s mercy.

Stepping back to enjoy the sight of the blond shaman stealing a heated kiss from the most talkative one here at Jujutsu Tech. Certainly something you might remember if Gojo became annoying in the future. Or perhaps just the blackmail of what Nanami could do to him would be enough to fluster the shaman.

“Get up,” Nanami ordered against Gojo’s lips, breaking the kiss like it was nothing as his hand left Gojo’s throat as well.

“Oh c'mon,” Gojo whined, like that would work, looking up at Nanami with a pout, “Gimme a little more than that Kento~” That earned a death glare you were downright happy not to be at the other end of. Gojo giggled and slowly got back up to his feet, “Fine fine fine, Nanami.”

Along for the ride you lean back on the desk. One leg propped up on a chair as you can’t help draw your fingertips up and down your soaked slit. Watching this unfold. The sight of both men more than alluring. But you figured Nanami had it covered as Gojo did what he said with minimum sass. Keenly aware of how badly Gojo wanted this, his sarcastic remarks were to save face because sooner or later he’d be a drooling fool on Nanami’s cock.

Nanami doesn’t hesitate to shove Gojo’s talkative mouth between your legs. Shutting him up effectively as the man wastes no time returning to what he was doing. His tongue dancing around your clit while now he can snake his fingers into toying with your entrance. Excited to have something to do is an understatement. If you hadn’t been trained to watch Nanami you would have had your eyes squeezed tight fighting off an orgasm. But you couldn’t take your eyes from the blond shaman.

“Wait-” Nanami pulled Gojo’s face from between your legs for a second. Earning a whimper from the both of you. But for good reason though as he swiped his index finger up along your slit. Coating it in your slick and Gojo’s spit. What he intended to do was obviously shortly afterwards.

Bringing his finger against Gojo’s entrance, Nanami was rightfully the first to earn a sincere moan from the white haired man. Almost pathetic as Gojo clearly pushes back on Nanami’s finger. Enjoying the sight too much your fingers return to teasing your core. Only to have the addition of Gojo’s mouth once more.

“He’s tight isn’t he Nanami~” You tease, the look of concentration on your coworker’s face amusing. He shoots you a glare but you’re nowhere in as much hot water as Gojo was going to be.

“Get over here,” Nanami wiggles his finger inside Gojo enough that even the composed shaman looses the focus on your cunt.

Obedient to his words you hop off the desk and come to Nanami. Who clearly wants you to work yourself a bit for barging in on his affairs. Obliging you get down on your knees to savor the sight of Nanami’s hard cock with a perfect bead of precum rolling down his slit. A scrumptious meal in reality you always wondered what he tasted like.

Engulfing Nanami’s cock past your watering lips, you look up at Nanami to see him looking down his nose at you. A slight hitch to Nanami’s chest as he takes in a sharp breath. More than enough of approval to continue on your merry way. The way Nanami’s cock fits in your mouth almost feels like too much. But it makes you want to take more of it. Working your tongue over every inch of him you can as your free hand squeezes the base of his cock and the other runs up and down his thigh.

Gojo’s turn. As Nanami returned his attention to the man. He had the pleasure of stretching a willing Gojo out with no time at all. The way he’d push back onto him and run his whiney mouth told Nanami he was more than ready. Trading one warm hole for another, Nanami pulled his cock away from your lips. Earning a reluctant groan from you. But with his cock covered in saliva he pressed himself up against Gojo.

“Fuck Nanami-” Gojo groaned under his breath, it’d been a while but all thoughts consuming told him how badly he wanted to take every inch of him, “Be careful now~”

Grabbing Gojo’s hips Nanami dug his broad fingertips into his flesh before pulling him all the way down on his cock. Little concern in a fleeting second for his coworker’s comfortability. Nanami pressed his cock down to the hilt inside Gojo and held himself there as the taller shaman squirmed on his length.

“Well go,” Nanami, balls deep in Gojo, tipped his head at you to a curt gesture at Gojo, “Make him shut up already.”

“Aww he wants me to be quiet,” Gojo, in no position to antagonize anyone, got what was coming to him when Nanami pulled back to snap his hips into him. The lewd mixture of Gojo’s giggle muffled by his inadvertent moan was a delight to the ears. You quickly made your way back to his face.

This time you got more comfortable on the desk. Worried less about watching the show and more about your growing need. Just the sounds from the two where enough as you craved something inside you. To remedy that you pulled Gojo’s face right to your core once more. He never missed a beat. Latching a needy mouth onto your clit as an excited tongue worked over your sensitive bud. He had every intention of making you cum now and it was obvious.

“Fuck-” Nanami’s groan stole your attention a little.

Looking up to see him, fistfuls of Gojo’s side, rutting into him with deep long strokes. If that wasn’t enough to make your insides twist and ache. The sight of Gojo’s bouncing cock might do the trick. Each thrust of Nanami’s cock into him seem to add to the wisps of precum beading and oozing off his cock. Gojo doing nothing short of making a mess under him as Nanami fucked him stupid.

In a moment of surprise, Gojo adds his fingers to the mix. So focused on them it takes you by a pleasant surprise. The second his long finger dives into you to swirl up your insides. Paired with the job his tongue was doing on your clit was almost too much.

“Shit-” You knot your hand in Gojo’s hair. Pulling him against you trying to ride his face right into your orgasm.

“Wait-” Nanami’s voice caught you off guard. He commanded your attention though even for a second, “Don’t cum yet-”

“But Nanami-” You whined at the fact you weren’t the one getting punished. That was saved for the idiot being spitroasted between the two of you. Hard to deny his order though as Gojo’s excited finger had an addition. Getting spread and fucked by both the shaman’s long dexterous fingers was borderline too much.

“Shit-” Evident Nanami’s demand was more of a plea. His own orgasm building up and making it harder to maintain his even deep strokes into Gojo. Who, for a better word, was a slobbering mess as he devoured your cunt amidst the painful ache of his cock bouncing up and down without any relief. His precum dripping out of him in the meek attempt to not cum every time Nanami’s cock rammed into his prostate.

Your orgasm could only be fought off for so long. Gojo’s tongue pressed flat into your clit as you ground yourself on his face. Too much when his long fingers hooked just in the right spot and a gush of warmth spread throughout your body. A slough of half mumbled curses fell from your mouth just as the grip on Gojo’s hair tightened. Your orgasm wracking your body in the worst way possible. Leaving you a twitching mess on the desk with Gojo’s face smashed between your legs when it was finally to late for him.

The vibration of his lips against your oversensitive clit. You moan slightly but savor the sight as Gojo’s cock jumps to life in the seconds after Nanami ruts into him nice and deep. He’s left with no other choice but to cum as Nanami’s cock milks him for his worth. Gojo’s moans muffled by your core still pressed to his lips. His seed spilt onto the floor with each rope of thick white cum oozing from his cock. Until there was a disgusting little puddle of his cum and Nanami couldn’t keep his composure anymore.

Rutting into Gojo one last time as deep as he could manage. He didn’t hesitate to fill him up with every drop of cum he’d been begging for. Nanami’s knuckles nearly turning white with the grip he had on Gojo. His cock twitching inside him as Gojo shimmied back onto him like his life depended on it. Greedy for every drop of cum Nanami was filling him with.

Finally when nothing but the heavy breathing of each of you filled the room. You release Gojo’s face from your grasp. Juices smeared all over his fucked out expression. Nanami does the same as he slips his cock from him and Gojo sinks to his knees. His own cum stain on the floor between his knees as Gojo looked down at his still hard cock.

What he didn’t expect was to see you both standing above him. Gojo takes a moment but beams a cheeky grin up at you both. But it’s obvious his eyes settle back on Nanami.

“Tch,” Nanami rolls his eyes as his hand moves to the back of Gojo’s head to lace his fingers in the man’s white hair, “Don’t think this is over yet Satoru.”

[franeridart]

Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

[oddshelbyout]

Forever // John Shelby X Fem!Reader

Summary: You get a letter that declares your husband, John dead during the war. Just as you were slowly getting used to the pain, a miracle brings him home.

Warnings: Mention of death (non graphic), Angst

Word Count: 1668

Author’s Notes:

I needed to write some angst and this is how it ended up. I’m really proud of this one even though I don’t think it’s as angsty as I intended to make it. I hope you enjoy it <3

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

You were lying on John’s childhood bed. It had been your bed ever since he got shipped off to France. The house you lived together in felt empty and the double bed you slept together was lonely.

With all the boys being on the battlefield, expect Finn. The Shelby women were staying together, taking care of business and each other.

It had been two years since they left when you got the letter. The letter was delivered to the house you and John lived. You didn’t realise it existed until a few weeks later. You wished you never realised.

The letter declared John dead. He was presumed killed in action. He had originally gone missing and afterwards was called dead.

You hadn’t opened the letter until you were with Polly. You could feel that it was something bad. If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be delivered in the first place.

Your eyes started bawling out the moment you read the first few words. Polly had his arms around you, much calmer than you. She didn't shed a single tear. Ada was there too but unlike Polly, she was crying. Not as much as you did of course.

One might’ve assumed they would cry more. They were family by blood. You cried most because you had less time with him and that time wasn’t enough for you.

When you finally let go of the letter, his eyes appeared behind your closed ones. You couldn't open them, you didn’t want to see a world where he wasn’t in. It got easier after a while but then, you started hearing his voice. How he called you “Love” and “Darling” and occasionally “Baby”.

Thankfully you had Ada and Polly and even Finn. The youngest Shelby was your best distraction. All of them had the same pain though with different ways to show it. Polly got more aggressive after learning about John’s death and Ada got more passive. Finn just stopped playing with his toy guns.

You got used to the fact that your husband wasn’t going to return from the war. It hurt but you got used to it. You knew there was a possibility of that happening but never thought it would actually happen.

You were lucky that you were already staying with the other remaining Shelbys in Small Heath. John’s childhood bed felt more like your own bed after learning about his death.

You got so used to the Shelby home that you even forgot you had a house you lived with John in. Maybe you just chose to forget. The bed you were sleeping was more comfortable anyway.

You sat on the bed. You didn’t feel like doing anything productive so you just sat and read your book. You had become somewhat numb. The book in your hands would’ve made you cry if it was a few months ago.

You barely understood anything you read so Finn suddenly opening the door was a gift. “You have to come down Y/N.” he said with his not yet thickened voice.

You sighed, “Can’t it wait until I finish this chapter at least?” Finn shook his head. “Polly said now.” you rolled your eyes. You couldn’t think of anything that could be this urgent.

“And you always do as Polly told right?” you mocked Finn. He seemed upset by it and looked into your eyes, putting pressure on you. You closed your book and before letting Finn say anything, you left the room.

You slowly walked down the stairs, Finn behind you. When you got down, “Pol?” you called out for her. You looked around and just as you were going back upstairs you heard footsteps.

You turned your back, expecting Polly, you were going to ask her what was so urgent. Instead you saw John. His face reflected his tiredness. His eyes were looking dead. He had a cane in his hand, you examined him from head to toe. You thought you were hallucinating.

You gasped. You blinked a few times. Your eyes teared up. “John.” you said quietly. Your whole body went numb. Finn looked at John and then you. Polly appeared behind John, her face was wet from tears.

You couldn’t stand still. You collapsed on the floor. It was dark. You heard John calling your name, felt Polly’s hard slaps on your cheeks. You couldn’t open your eyes.

“Finn get her water.” Polly ordered, you heard the boy’s footsteps. A harder slap from Polly came afterwards. You opened your eyes. John’s eyes blocked your sight. “You.” was all you could say.

Finn came back with a glass of water. You tried to sit up, Polly offered you her hand. John was silent. He was on his knees beside you, he was in pain. He took support from his cane and stood up.

“Finn, go upstairs.” Polly told the boy, he nodded and rushed upstairs. “He’s supposed to be dead!” you shouted at Polly then looked at your husband. You took the water from Polly’s hand and took a sip.

“Let’s get you up Baby.” you heard him say. You thought you’d never hear his voice again, you thought you’d never be called baby and feel the way you did when he said it. It should’ve felt like a blessing, a miracle but it felt more like a curse.

You stood up by yourself without any help. “Why don’t we sit down.” John said, looking towards the door of the living room. You nodded silently. Every breath you took felt like the first.

You sat down on the couch, John sat down beside you. “I’ll leave you two alone.” she said and left, probably going upstairs to Finn.

“Y/N, why won’t you look at me?” he asked. He noticed he avoided his gaze. You felt like none of it was real. “You were supposed to be dead.” you mumbled, barely able to speak.

Your voice cracked, John seemed to share the pain you were in. You couldn’t understand why you weren’t happy about this. John understood, you were in shock. You were just getting used to his loss and now you knew it was all a lie.

You cried, you didn’t know what to see, neither John did. You sobbed, John pulled you to himself. His arms felt safer than ever. He gave you a kiss on the forehead. Your tears wetted his shirt.

“Why aren’t you dead!” you were angry that you had to go through that grief even though it wasn’t true. You pushed yourself out of his arms.

John held your face between his two hands. “Look at me Love, I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” he assured you.

“But…” you tried to speak but he interrupted. “I got captured.” he said, it was obviously hard for him to talk about it. He felt like he owed you the explanation, he had to tell you about it no matter how hard it was.

“I was tortured, you got the letter when I was in the enemy's hands.” he swallowed, his eyes teared up. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard.” he let go of your face and held your hand instead.

“I have to.” he whispered, you nodded telling him to continue. “I was found only a few weeks ago, I needed treatment so they transported me back here.” he took a deep breath. “John…” you said before biting your lip.

“Y/N just listen.” John said softly, “Okay” you mouthed. You squeezed his hands in support. “They told me the war is over for me, at least this one.” he said, “I’m home and I’m not going back.” his voice was still.

“I wish I could be happy right now but I’m just in more pain.” you confessed. “I know but I’m here and as long as we have each other it’s okay.” you hugged him. You hugged him tighter than you ever did and ever will.

John started crying too. His tears fell on your hair and yours fell on his shoulders. He was here, you were hugging him, you were talking to him, he called you “Baby” again. You expected to wake up from this dream but it was real.

“No more grieving.” he whispered here. “No more going to bed alone.” you said. “No more being apart, we’ll be together forever.” his words just made you cry more.

It was the first time you saw John cry and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time. The way he stood and spoke told you he was a different man now but it didn’t matter. You were in his arms and he was in yours.

“Has Ada seen you?” you asked while still holding him close. “Not yet.” he said softly, “She’s gonna be so happy to see you.” you replied back.

“Definitely happier than Finn was.” he said, it made you chuckle and put a smile on both of your faces. “I love you so much.” you cried and all he could say was “Me too.”.

Neither of you spoke for a while. There was nothing left to say, maybe there was a lot to talk about but it wasn’t the time. Your safe silence in each other’s arms was cut with Ada entering the room.

“Fucking hell!” she screamed, “Have I gone mad?” she shouted. You and John laughed unintentionally at her reaction. Polly came running, “I guess it’s time to have a family meeting.” she said while Ada stood there her jaw dropped.

Ada was calmer than you were and so was Polly. Neither of you expected it but it was a miracle anyway. It was your miracle. You were finally at ease while you still had that little but of grief left.

The happiness didn’t appear until you were getting ready for bed. You weren’t going to sleep alone. John wasn’t sleeping on the uncomfortable hospital bed or in the trench. It was the most peaceful night you had in ages.

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [101]

101. including bellamy (the epilogue)

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader 

Word Count: 18.6k

Warnings: angst, death, anxiety, pregnancy/birth (and maybe it's not the most factual but so what), lots of fluff and happiness, mentions of blood, smut, nausea and puking, language.

Summary: the last update of sub rosa takes you through some moments of your life with bellamy after you reject transcendence. 

a/n: this is it you guys! see the end for my final sub rosa author’s note!!! 

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

24 hours after Transcendence

You stand at the door of the bunker, staring into the darkness, trying to talk yourself into going inside. 

But you can't bring yourself to do it, because that makes all of this real, and you don't want to accept that. 

As you try to psych yourself up, you feel a hand slip into your own, and you turn to face Bellamy, a sympathetic smile on his face. “You don't have to go in. Murphy and I can get it done without you.”

You shake your head, thankful for the offer, but well aware that you can't accept it. “No, I need to do this. Gabriel deserves to have a proper burial. We couldn't do it for Diyoza or Kane or my mother, so I need this. I have to see this through.”

Bellamy nods, understanding. “We can wait as long as you like.”

You put on a brave face, looking up at your fiance. “I got this.”

And then you step inside. 

You lead Murphy and Bellamy back to the rec room, where Gabriel’s body remains, untouched since you all left him there to save Madi. Bellamy helps you change him into clean clothes, unstained by blood, something more akin to what he’d usually wear. You also clean the blood from his face, and by the end, it’s easy for you to pretend that he’s just sleeping. That Gabriel Santiago is not dead, he’s just taking a long nap. In a few minutes, he’ll jump up, ready for dinner, cracking some joke about being ready to eat, even when he’s sleeping. 

Of course, that isn't the reality. And once you're ready, Murphy and Bellamy load him onto a stretcher and carry him out of the bunker, out into the woods where the others are standing beside a grave that is already dug and waiting. On your way out, your eyes land on the piano, black blood staining some of the white keys. You pause and stare at it, Gabriel’s cup of alcohol still sitting on the edge, right where he left it before he was stabbed. You feel yourself start to choke up, and you step away from the piano, intending to join the others outside when something catches your eye. A sheet of music beside the others, a familiar scrawl in the corner. 

You reach out and pick it up, tears springing to your eyes when you read the title of the song. 

Clair de lune.

And off to the side, framed by music notes, is a message. One line, simple, but it’s enough to make you cry again.

For mi cielito.

You hear a sound out in the hall and you grab the sheet of music, swiping away your tears as you fold it into quarters and tuck it into your pocket, running outside to join the others. 

There are no dry eyes as Gabriel is lowered into the ground, and you all collectively say one last Traveler’s Blessing for him, mourning the loss of your friend and family. Everyone whispers their final ‘may we meet again’s,’ and file away, one by one, leaving only you and Bellamy. You walk to the edge of the grave and look down at Gabriel’s peaceful face, your mind thinking back to his final moments. You still don't know if his final words were a love confession, but looking back on the years you spent with him and the sheet of music in your back pocket, you think that maybe it was a confession. You hate that you’ll never know for sure, but you do get a sense of comfort in knowing that he’s at peace now. 

He was ready to die ten years ago, before he was unwillingly put into a new body, but now, he’s at peace. He’s probably with Josephine and Russell and the other Primes, watching all of you from the stars. He lived a full life, a few of them actually, and got to answer some of his biggest questions about the Anomaly and the Anomaly Stone. And maybe that’s enough.

Bellamy steps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “Are you okay, natshana?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“About Gabriel?”

You hum in agreement and stand silent for a moment before you reach into your pocket and pull out the sheet music, unfolding it so Bellamy can see it. You both look at it, and you can hear his mind silently putting together the pieces before you quietly add, “I think he confessed his love for me before dying.”

You don’t know why you say it to him, because it's not like it matters now. And you’re not even sure what your feelings for Gabriel would have been like had he survived, but you're sure of your feelings for Bellamy. If Bellamy really had died in Sanctum and Gabriel had lived instead, you’re sure you could have loved him. But he would have never been your soulmate, because that title belongs to Bellamy. Bellamy is a part of you, the same way Clarke is a part of you, his fate and existence intertwined with your own in every way. 

You start to grow nervous when Bellamy doesn't say anything, afraid you’ve hurt him, but he finally breaks his silence when he whispers, “I’m glad he was there for you when I couldn't be. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”

“Me too.”

Bellamy tightens his grip around your waist a little, lifting his head to press a kiss into your hair. “Besides, you’re easy to love.”

You turn your head and smile at him. “Are you using my own line on me?”

“Is it working?”

You smile at him, lifting your hand and placing it over his hand that’s resting on your stomach. “A little. Too bad we’re stuck in tents right now.”

“Is that supposed to stop me?”

You let out a surprised snort of laughter and shake your head. “Enough.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “There’s the smile I was missing.”

“It’s hard losing people. I know so many of us have survived, despite the odds continuously stacked against us, but I still feel like we’ve lost so much.”

“I know, la lune.” He tightens his grip on you before stepping away and turning you to face him. “But things will be different now. We’re building a new life here and we’re going to do better. We’re going to honor all those we’ve lost by living long, peaceful lives, the way they’d all want us to.”

You nod your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, accepting the comfort he offers you. When you finally pull away, you both turn towards the open grave, Gabriel still waiting to be buried. Bellamy grabs the shovels, passing you one, and as the two of you start to drop dirt around him, you whisper one last time, “La muerte es la vida.”

-

6 months after Transcendence 

You roll over with a huff, turning to look at the ceiling of your tent, cursing yourself for not taking up Octavia’s offer to sleep in their guest bed.

You thought you could handle a couple more weeks in the tent with Bellamy, but your aching back and stiff limbs are starting to tell you otherwise. Everyone’s permanent homes are being built one by one, everyone focusing on one home at a time, finding that makes the process much faster. You, Wonkru, the Eligius prisoners, and even some of the Sanctumites have been sharing the workload, moving from one group to the next to keep things fair. You and Bellamy are next on the list for your people, but there’s one house for someone from Wonkru and one for someone from Eligius that needs to be built before you and Bellamy get your own place. 

Meaning, you have at least a few more weeks of tent living before you get your own bed, and your own roof that doesn't leak when it rains too hard. 

You sit up with a sigh, closing your eyes and stretching the stiffness from your arms and legs. As you're rubbing a knot out of your shoulder, Bellamy’s smiling face pokes into the tent, grinning at you as if he has the bet news. You give him an odd look, not appreciating his chipper energy when you’re feeling grumpy and sore. “What?”

“Let’s get married.”

You laugh a little and he steps inside of the tent fully. “You’ve already asked me that, Bellamy.”

“No, I mean, let’s get married today.”

“Today?” You shake your head, your brows pulling together. “We can't get married today. We have a house to help build.”

“Everyone could use a break.”

You counter, “We don’t have anything planned out.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Your jaw drops open a little as you look at him, trying to think of some other excuse why you can't marry your fiance today, but unable to find one. He smiles when he realizes that you’re speechless. “If you have no other objections, then you need to get to Sanctum.”

“Sanctum? Why?”

“You’ll see when you get there.” He passes you your boots and a pair of clean clothes, the large smile back on his face. “C'mon, get dressed. We have a lot to do and I need you out of here!”

You laugh a little as you quickly get dressed, stepping out of the tent to find Bellamy waiting. He leads you to the Anomaly Stone, pulling on the helmet in the room and getting the code for Sanctum, which he quickly types in. As the flash of green appears in front of you, he tugs off the helmet and sets it aside, turning to you with a bright smile. He places a quick kiss on your lips before ushering you towards the open Anomaly. “I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you!”

You turn to look at him with bewilderment, unused to this playful energy, as you call back, “I love you more than the stars!”

You step into the Anomaly, appearing in the palace of Sanctum. The room has been mostly cleared out by this point, Sheidheda’s throne destroyed, the blood staining the ground, Bellamy’s included, now scrubbed away. The palace primarily serves as a transportation hub at this point, shelves lining the walls with disciple helmets placed on them, waiting to be used. 

You look around at the empty room, confused as to why you’re here, and as you start to walk towards the door, someone comes running in, an apologetic smile on their face. “Sorry I’m late, we got busy at the tavern!”

“Blythe Ann? What am I doing here?”

Blythe Ann smiles and motions for you to follow her before she turns and heads out the door. You jog to catch up, her voice floating back to you. “Bellamy wanted you to stay here so they could get things ready back on Earth. Plus, you left a few things here.”

You follow her from the palace and over to the tavern, where she leads you to the base of the stairs that lead to your former living quarters. You stand looking up at it, and she motions to the top. “Go on.”

You give her a look before tentatively climbing the stairs, moving down the hallway and pushing open the door to your former room. It’s empty, but it looks nearly identical to the way you left it years ago, back when you thought you'd only be gone for a few days. You had no idea it would be years. 

The room is different though, because a long silver dress is stretched out on the bed, a gift from Delilah. You smile at it, walking across the room to the dress, running your hand over the fabric. As you do, something catches your eye, and you turn to look at the top of your bed, near the pillows, a yellow book with blue binding sitting beside your old pack. You reach out and grab the book with a smile, the cover stained with your blood and a little scorched. You open the book and flip the first few pages to the note that Bellamy wrote you years ago, reading it over again, tears springing to your eyes as you do. 

And just as you finish the note, you hear a noise behind you, startling you. You drop the book on the bed and reach for your knife, an old habit that you still haven't broken, despite the six months of peace you’ve lived. But instead of finding a masked intruder or someone ready to kill you, you find Clarke, Octavia, Raven, Emori, Echo, Hope, Gaia, and Madi. They all look at you in surprise, holding up their hands in surrender, “Slow down there, we come bringing drinks!”

They all hold up cups and you smile, dropping your hand. “Sorry, old habit.”

They all file into the room and move over to you, each of them pulling you in for a hug in greeting. As you hug Gaia last, you look over them in confusion. “What are you all doing here?”

“We’re your wedding party!” You look at Emori, your confusion deepening. “Blythe Ann said it’s what they used to do on Earth before Praimfaya. Brides would have bridesmaids that stand at the altar to support them, and grooms have groomsmen to support them.”

Clarke smiles, “I know all those traditions were lost on the Ark, but we thought it might be nice to have a real wedding, like they used to.”

You smile at her, “How long have you been planning this?”

This time, it’s Octavia that answers. “My brother’s been working on this for weeks, and he has a very specific schedule for us to follow, so we better get started.”

“Okay then.” She passes you a drink, and now all of you have a cup in your hands. Clarke lifts it in the air, looking at you with a smile. “To the bride, our la lune!”

Everyone echoes, “To the bride!” before downing their drinks.

After that, your morning is a whirlwind of activity. Everyone helps you to get ready, and the morning is full of stories about Bellamy. Octavia tells you some from her childhood that you had never heard before, and Echo, Emori, and Raven share stories from the Ring. They help you get dressed in the silver dress, before helping you with your hair. And as you sit in your old room with your friends, you can't help but be overwhelmed by all the love you feel. You start to tear up, and Clarke is the first to notice. “La lune, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, quickly wiping away your tears as everyone turns to look at you. “Nothing, I'm just so happy.”

Everyone lets out a collective aw, and Clarke helps wipe away your tears. “Well, before we finish up your look, we should probably get the rest of your tears out of the way.”

“What do you mean?”

Emori, the resident wedding expert, steps forward. “There’s another tradition with weddings, and that’s for the bride to have something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.”

Clarke grabs your hand, turning it over before dropping something into your palm. “Something old, it symbolizes continuity and often incorporates something sentimental, passed down through the family.”

You look down at your open palm to find a ring, your father’s wedding ring, given back to your mother before he was floated. You thought it was lost after she was bodysnatched by Simone, but now you see that it’s not. You look up at Clarke with teary eyes, which overflow quickly and rush down your face. “Dad’s ring?”

“He would want you to have it, to give to Bellamy.” You feel yourself start to cry harder as she whispers, “He’d be so proud of you, la lune. Mom too.”

You reach out and pull her into a hug, whispering into her hair, “Thank you.”

The two of you share a moment before pulling apart, and Echo and Hope step forward next. “Something new, it symbolizes excitement for the future and a new chapter in your life.”

They each hold out a boot to you, new shoes for your wedding, but shoes that still fit your personality. You take them with a smile and hug them each, setting the shoes down as Madi steps forward, a chain clasped tight in her hand. “Something borrowed, for good luck.”

You look down at the necklace in her hand, a sun hanging from the chain, and you start to cry again as she steps forward and clasps it around your neck. You hug her as soon as she’s finished, a piece of your father and a piece of your mother now with you on your wedding day. When you and Madi pull apart, Raven and Emori step forward with matching smiles. “Something blue, to ward off evil spirits, but also a symbol of love, purity, and fidelity.”

They open their palms to reveal hair clips adorned with small blue moons, and you smile as you hug them both in thanks. They help to arrange the clips into your hair, and before you know it, you're ready to get married. You all take one more shot of Jo Juice for good luck before heading down the stairs and back to the palace, towards your wedding. You feel your nerves start to build with each step you take back towards Earth.

Blythe Ann, Jae, and a few others are waiting for you at the stone, and as someone enters the code back to Earth, Jae turns to you with a curious look. “Who’s walking you down the aisle?”

“What?”

“Typically, the father of the bride walks her down the aisle, and gives her away to her future husband.”

You shake your head, lost, unsure who could do that for you when your father is dead, Kane is dead, and your mother is dead. But just as you start to panic, you feel a hand slip into your own, and you look down to find your niece smiling up at you. “I’ll do it, ani. If you want me to.”

You smile back down at her, “I’d be honored if you walked me down the aisle, little sun.”

The two of you share a grin as the Anomaly is activated ahead of you, and in one large group, you step through, following the rest of the crowd as they lead you through the bunker and out into the warm afternoon air. The sun is beginning to lower in the sky, creating a golden glow over everything you see. You have no idea where you’re going, you just allow yourself to be led to your destination, trying to keep your mind off your nerves and focus on your excitement instead. 

Finally, after a few minutes of walking, you all stop near a tree. The other wedding guests walk ahead of you, moving to find their seats, but your bridesmaids keep you hidden out of view, but also unable to see anything around you. Clarke reaches out to take the hand not held by Madi, and she gives you a reassuring smile. “One by one, we’re going to walk down the aisle ahead of you. Madi knows your cue, and she’ll walk you down to us. After that, just follow the lead. We’ll be right there with you if you need us.”

You smile at her, tears in your eyes again, “Thank you, Clarke. For everything.”

She smiles, shaking off your praise. “Don't thank me, thank your future husband when you see him.”

You smile at her, and one by one, your friends hug you before walking down the aisle ahead of you, a soft song playing over a set of speakers. It takes a second for you to realize that it’s Clair de lune, and you smile, another piece of your parents put into your wedding. And despite them not being here, you feel like they are. You feel their love everywhere, incorporated into everything around you, reminding you that they’ll never truly leave you. 

You get so lost in your thoughts of your parents that you don't even realize Madi is starting to tug on your hand, until she whispers, “Ani, it’s time. Are you ready?”

You look down at your niece and smile. “I’m ready.”

She starts to walk, leading you around the large tree and into a clearing. There is an aisle cutting through two large groups of people, all of them standing and watching as you approach. Your eyes lift to the trees, where stars and moons of varying sizes hang down, catching the light of the setting sun, and it brings a smile to your face. At the end of the aisle is an arch adorned with flowers, and your friends stand on either side: Gaia, Raven, Emori, Echo, Hope, and Clarke stand on the left, and on the right is Octavia, Murphy, Miller, Jackson, Jordan, and Levitt. But you don't focus on any of them, because as soon as you catch sight of Bellamy, your eyes never leave his face.

He is watching you intensely, tears streaming down his face, which makes you start to cry too. He’s dressed in a suit, which he must have gotten from someone in Sanctum, and though the sight is a little startling at first, he also looks good. He shaved once he joined Cadogan’s cause, but once all of you decided to return back to Earth, he started to grow out his beard again, reminding you of the scruffy man that saved your life from Diyoza and her prisoners a few years ago. The freckles that dot his face and cheeks are prolific, thanks to the days that all of you spend in the sun, and his eyes are sparkling in the golden hour light. And though you think he looks good every single day, you think he looks beautiful right now. You sear the image into your memory, never wanting to forget how he looks in this moment.

You finally reach the end of the aisle, and Madi passes you off to Bellamy, who leans in for a quick kiss. They exchange a quick hug before Madi moves to stand beside Octavia, switching places with Murphy, and you turn to Bellamy and whisper, “You did all of this?”

He grins, “You like it?”

“Bellamy, I love it.”

His smile grows even wider, and you melt, wishing you could stay in this moment forever. As the two of you stand smiling at each other, Murphy comes to stand beside the two of you, beneath the arch, and you turn to look at him. He smiles at you, “You look beautiful.”

You smile back and counter, “You look good too, for a cockroach.”

He laughs a little before lifting his voice to address the crowd, which is now sitting and watching all of you closely. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate a wedding between our favorite couple. I’ve never officiated a wedding before, but honestly, I already know that I’m going to be good at it.”

The crowd snickers and you and Bellamy exchange an eye roll as Murphy continues, “I’ve heard from reliable sources that weddings on Earth before Praimfaya were long and boring, but this wedding will be anything but that. We have a party to get to after this, so I’m gonna keep it short.”

He pauses and looks you and Bellamy over for a second, before he says, “From the very first moment they laid eyes on each other, Bellamy and la lune were in love. It was obvious to everyone but them, but eventually, for all of our sake, they figured it out. We all thought the puppy dog eyes and longing looks would end once they got together, but to our dismay, they didn't. Bellamy and la lune look at each other with as much love as they did on that first day, if not more. Some of us had to watch Bellamy pine away for her while trapped on a tin can in space, while others had to watch la lune pine away for him while in the last green valley on Earth.”

He motions to your surroundings, lush, green, overgrown, and muses, “Or so we thought. Still it didn't take long for them to figure it out again, though life continued to get in the way. But finally, after a few years and a few different planets, we have arrived at this moment. Bellamy and la lune, it’s time to exchange your vows. Bellamy, you go first.”

Bellamy holds both of your hands in his own as he takes a deep breath and begins, “Natshana. We have been through so much together. We have experienced so much loss, so many hardships, but through it all, I felt at peace, because I knew I had you. I vow to always love you, to support you through everything, and to remain by your side through it all. I vow to protect you and keep you safe, and to remind you daily of how much I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, proving to you that I deserve the love you freely give me. I want to be your best friend and confidant, your soulmate. I vow to be a good husband, a good father, and a better man. I vow to love you in this lifetime and in the next.”

You’re crying by the end, tears streaming down your face, making your vision blurry, and you smile at him as he finishes his speech. You swear you even hear Murphy sniffle a little before he says, “La lune, your vows.”

You wipe away your tears to get a better look at Bellamy before taking his hands again with a smile. “Bellamy, I have spent my entire life feeling like something was missing. Despite living a life full of love on the Ark, surrounded by people that cared about me, I knew that something was missing from my life. I would have never guessed that what was missing was you. From the moment you saved me from Shumway, I knew our fates were intertwined. I didn't understand just how much back then, but I understand now. You are a part of me, as if the gods created our souls from the same mixture of stardust. I can't imagine my life without you, and I am so honored and grateful to be standing up here today, joining my life with yours. I vow to love you unconditionally, until we take our last breaths. I vow to comfort you when things are hard, to protect you from the harsh world, and to make you smile as much as I can. I vow to be a good wife, and mother, and woman, and I vow to do everything I can to make you happy, because I love you more than the stars.”

Bellamy starts to cry as you say your vows to him, and by the end not only are you both crying, but almost everyone around you is crying too. Murphy gathers himself and mutters, “The rings.”

Clarke and Octavia each pass him a ring, the first of which he offers to Bellamy. Bellamy takes your left hand, poising the ring at the end of your ring finger as Murphy says, “La lune, do you accept this ring as a symbol of Bellamy’s love for you?”

“Yes.”

Bellamy slides the ring on your finger, the gold band matching the band of your engagement ring. Except this band has a small moon on it, seeming impossibly small, and as you admire it, Bellamy whispers, “Bardo tech is good for something.”

You smile at him as Murphy passes your father’s ring to you, and you take Bellamy’s left hand, holding the ring at the end of his ring finger the same way he did with you. Murphy repeats, “Bellamy, do you accept this ring as a symbol of la lune’s love for you?”

Bellamy smiles at you and whispers, “I do.”

You slide the ring onto his finger, whispering, “It was my father’s.”

Bellamy looks up at you in surprise, tears in his eyes again as he whispers back, nearly speechless, “Natshana.”

You smile at him, and beside you, Murphy proudly announces, “I now pronounce you married! You may now kiss the bride!”

Bellamy grins at you before sweeping you into his arms, turning and dipping you before kissing you, pouring all the love he has for you into it. You both pull away with matching grins, the crowd cheering around you as Murphy yells, “Let’s party!”

And party you do. 

All of you move to a different clearing, set up with food and fire and more music, and you spend hours dancing, partying, and laughing with your friends, your family, and your husband. Sometime later, long after midnight, you and Bellamy are slow dancing, looking at each other with adoration when he mutters, “I have one more surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

You give him a look and say, “You know I do.”

“Close your eyes.”

You do as he says, and he leads you away from the party to a chorus of goodnights, hoops, and hollers following you. As the sounds of the party grow fainter, the sounds of the woods grow louder, and you can hear leaves crunching beneath your boots as Bellamy leads you through the woods. You walk for a few minutes before he pulls you to a stop, putting his hands over your eyes to cover them even further. His mouth is right beside your ear when he whispers, “Ready?” and it sends a chill down your spine. 

Your voice is a breathy whisper when you answer, “Ready.”

“Okay, open.'' Bellamy drops his hands from your eyes, and they open to see a house standing in front of you, the soft light of a fire coming from inside. It has a porch and a big yard, and as you look at it in confusion, Bellamy adds, “It’s no house in Shallow Valley, but…”

He trails off as realization dawns on you, and you turn to him with a look of excitement. “Wait, are you saying?”

“It’s ours.”

You laugh and pull him in for a kiss, pulling away again so you can ask, “Wait, how? There were two houses ahead of ours!”

“We’ll probably be babysitting for everyone for the rest of our lives, but they came by everyday to work on it.”

You smile at him, shaking your head with disbelief. “I don't deserve you, Bellamy Blake.”

“You deserve more than me, blainen natshana.”

“That’s not true.” He smiles at you a little before nodding towards the house. “Wanna go inside, Mrs. Blake?”

You grin at him, “I’d love to, Mr. Blake.”

He takes your hand and leads you inside, giving you a quick tour before leading you back to the bedroom. There, he stops at the door, motioning for you to go inside. You push the door open and walk into the room, looking around at the decor, Gabriel’s sheet music hanging on the wall, the large bed in the room, and...the skylight. You let out a little gasp as your gaze locks on the window situated in the ceiling, letting in the soft light of the moon. It shines down on the bed, giving you a perfect view of space from the place you’ll be sleeping. As you look up at the stars over your bedroom, you feel Bellamy slide up behind you, his hands on your shoulders. You whisper, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, you are.” You smile at the compliment, but your smile drops into a gasp when his lips move to your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin. His hands slide from your shoulders, down your arms, and then to your waist. You sink into him, enjoying the feel of his lips on your skin, as they move from your neck to your shoulder. One of his hands lifts, and you feel your zipper being tugged down your back slowly, his lips kissing down your spine as he exposes more skin. Your dress slides off your body, the silky material moving off you easily, landing around your feet. Bellamy drops down behind you, his hands roaming across your skin before reaching around and untying your shoes, one after the next, his lips pressing kisses to your legs. 

He rises slowly, trailing a finger up your spine and sending a chill through you before his lips press to your neck again. He pulls away to spin you in his arms so you're facing him, and he eyes you up and down hungrily, his expression one of admiration. “More beautiful than the moon.”

You smile at him, before reaching out and crashing his lips to yours, the two of you kissing hungrily, Bellamy’s teasing leaving you eager with anticipation. He pulls you close to him, his suit rubbing against your bare skin, his arousal pressing against your body. You slide your hands up his chest and push his jacket down his shoulders, before moving your hands to his buttons. You break your kiss so you can press kisses to his skin, the same way he did to you, a new kiss with each new inch of exposed skin. When you reach the last button, you drop to your knees, leaving his shirt on as you do. You press one kiss to his waist before leaning down and ridding him of his own boots, before you return your focus to his waistband. 

You undo his pants and slide them down his legs, letting them pool around his feet, and then you tug his underwear down, his dick springing free. You look up at him, and his eyes are locked on you, watching your every move as you take him into your mouth. His eyes flutter closed as you work him with your tongue, slowly at first, increasing your pace as you move. You can feel him start to reach his climax, his thighs clenching beneath your hands, but he stops you before he can finish, his voice breathy when he whispers, “Not yet.”

He pulls you to your feet and straight into a kiss, guiding you backwards towards the bed, stopping just at the edge to break your kiss. Bellamy shakes off his shirt, the last of his clothes, before nudging you to sit on the bed so he can help you out of your underwear. As soon as you're naked, he takes a moment to admire you again, and you do the same with him, your eyes scanning his body, before settling on a scar at his side. You reach out to run a finger over the scar, given to him by Kane while he was under the influence of Alie. Bellamy reaches out and tips your chin up until you’re locking eyes, and he smiles, “I love my crooked scar.”

“And I love you.”

He leans down and kisses you, the two of you moving backwards on the bed until your head is on the pillows. His mouth leaves yours to press kisses all over your body, worshipping you, and when he finally sinks into you later, you climax while looking at the stars.

-

7 months after Transcendence

You look down at the list of supplies in your hand, checking over it a second time before you jump to Bardo to grab all that you need. But as you’re reading through the list, you get an idea, and you lift your gaze to look at your twin, who’s sitting across from you at your kitchen table. “We should form a council.”

Clarke looks up at you, confused, her mind too focused on the list in her own hand. “What?”

“We should form a council, like we had on the Ark. Except this one will be between all of us that chose to leave Transcendence.”

Clarke considers your idea for a minute before nodding in agreement. “It would definitely make it easier to get supplies if we had an official person to go to each time.”

“Everyone can choose or elect a council member to represent them. One from Bardo, one from Sanctum, one from Wonkru, and one from Eligius. And then the council members can elect a chancellor to represent all of us.” Clarke nods in agreement. The ideas start coming to you quickly now, and you add, “We can set an age for Transcendence, for those who choose to go through with it. We’ve already got a few pregnant people within each group, so inevitably, somebody will want to transcend. Even though none of us liked the idea, we can make it a celebration or ceremony of some sort.”

“I like that. And we can jump to other planets for trades, make the routes and access to each other easier. With Bardo being at its closest point in its orbit, it’s easy to handle the time dilation now. But in the future it’s something we’ll need to consider. We can also set up schools or specialized learning within each group, so everyone has some way to contribute. Maybe check in with each other once a year at an official meeting just to make sure we’re all on the same page.” She looks back down to her notebook, flipping to a new page and already scribbling out a few notes. “I’ll get a few ideas written out, and we can pitch it to the others later.”

You smile at her, standing from your chair with your list. “And with that, I’m gonna go get our supplies.”

Clarke glances up at you as you step away, smiling. “Good idea, la lune.”

You smile back and counter, “Thank you.” And as you turn away from her, you drop your voice to a whisper, low enough that she can't hear you. “Intergalactic Chancellor.”

-

9 months after Transcendence

You walk up the path to the newest building in your fast growing town, Octavia and Gaia at your side. 

The temple in front of you is built with stone, gifted to you from Bardo, the first of many gifts exchanged after the announcement of the Intergalactic Council. Everyone agreed and elected their council members. The Bardoans chose Lila, your former training partner, the Sanctumites chose Jae, Wonkru chose Indra, and the Eligius prisoners chose Nikki. With most of the people concentrated back on Earth, everyone agreed that Earth needed two delegates, to ensure everyone’s voice was heard, so they quickly chose Clarke as a fifth council member. And then a few minutes after that, they made her the Chancellor, just like you predicted. Everyone agreed that she could put the needs of the many over the few, that she could be more impartial than most, and that she was the best suited for the job. What surprised you though, was when they chose you to take over Clarke’s council seat, making you the new fifth member. 

The last two months have been hectic as you all established the council and a new routine, and each Stone Room was cleaned up and made easier to access. On top of that, each of the three planets built a temple for Transcendence, where future ceremonies could be celebrated. Which is where you are right now, walking up to the new temple with Octavia and Gaia. Gaia leads you all inside, pointing out the various features of the temple. Stained glass windows, designed based off images from Earth before Praimfaya, but the religious images have been replaced with the origin of the Grounder religion and the story of Transcendence. 

In the center of the temple, surrounded by a stone altar, are the remnants of Gaia’s transcendence. She was the only one on Earth when everyone transcended, and despite coming back down, her being of light remained. Now, it sits in the center of the temple, serving as a reminder of what will happen to those that choose to transcend. On Sanctum, they fixed up the palace and made it part temple, part Stone Room. And on Bardo, they put their temple in the oxygen farm, where most of the beings of light remain. 

It’s weird to think that all of you are essentially establishing a new religion for people to follow. And though it’s likely that most of you that are alive right now won’t believe in the miracle of Transcendence, it’s possible that the descendants that come from your generation will believe. Religion on the Ark was always more of a melting pot of histories, most of the major religions combined into one universal religion. The Grounders believed in the Commanders and Becca Pramheda, and the Bardoans believed in the Shepherd and his teachings. On Sanctum, they believed in the divinity of the Primes. 

And even if the new religion surrounding transcendence is not something you’ll ever believe in, religion has always been a big part of the human experience, and it only seems fitting that all of you create something for future generations to believe in. Plus, it does bring a smile to your face to know that you’ll always be part of the history of transcendence. Without you, the human race was condemned to extinction, until you urged them to reconsider. With Bellamy and Octavia’s help and everyone else’s compliance, you were able to convince the alien species to give humans another chance. It wasn't just because of you, but you are a part of the legend, a legend that will be passed down to generations to come. 

Your story will live on, even when you’re not there to tell it.

-

11 months after Transcendence

You sit in your large bed, waiting for your husband to join you, both of you winding down for the night and preparing for sleep. 

When he finally steps into your bedroom, you give him a serious look and muse, “I think it’s time.”

Bellamy gives you a shocked look, “You think so?”

“I do.” You hold up The Iliad, bookmarked a few pages from the end, you and Bellamy both procrastinating the inevitable: finishing the book. But now, after working your way through the book slowly, over the course of a few years, you know it’s time for the two of you to finish it. 

Bellamy strips down to his underwear and climbs into the bed beside you, taking the book from your outstretched hand. He settles back into the pillows, opening his arms so that you can cuddle up next to him, tucked into his arms. You turn your gaze to the night sky above you, visible though the window in your room, and listen as Bellamy reads you the story of Achilles’ wrath. The moon rises slowly as he reads to you, bringing more light into the room as the time passes, and it’s right overhead when he finishes the last lines with a solemn voice. “When they had heaped up the barrow they went back again into the city, and being well assembled they held a high feast in the house of Priam, their king. Thus, then, did they celebrate the funeral of Hector, tamer of horses.”

Bellamy closes the book with a snap, setting it aside as you roll over to face him, resting across his chest as you look at him in confusion. “Wait, that’s it?”

“That’s it. Was that not enough for you, la lune?”

You glare at the laughter in his tone, and he attempts to hide the smile on his face as you answer, “What about the Trojan Horse? And the end of the war?”

Bellamy shrugs, “The Iliad was always about Achilles’ rage and the consequences of it. I guess Homer didn't think the rest of it was important.”

“Bummer.”

Bellamy laughs at the genuine disappointment in your voice, readjusting so he can place a kiss on your forehead. “If you want, I can get Niylah to keep an eye out for more historical books. She’s pretty good at finding them.”

“That would be great.”

He smiles at you, “Good. Now go to sleep, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

He turns and blows out the candles beside your bed before the two of you adjust and get comfortable, falling asleep in each other’s arms. The last thing you think before sleep overtakes you, is that this sure beats sleeping in a tree. 

-

1 year after Transcendence

You stand in the kitchen directing Clarke, Madi, Bellamy, and Octavia on different tasks. “Madi, you and Clarke work on the vegetables.”

“Bellamy, you cut up the beef, and Octavia you’ll cut up the pork.” You slide your cutting board towards you, chicken laid out on top of it. “I’ll take care of the chicken.”

Everyone takes their directions, asking you for approval every few minutes, making sure everything seems right as you rely on your memory for how to make Sancocho Trifásico. You carve the chicken into bite size pieces, using your Grounder knife to do it. You haven't used the knife to take a human life in over a year. Little do you know, you’ll never use the knife to take another human life again. The Grounder knife eventually becomes a knife, the way it should, and Wanlida becomes a distant memory. She’s only ever mentioned in stories now, memories, the nickname never again used. You’re thankful for that.

And as you sit preparing dinner with some of your favorite people, it’s easy to forget all the messed up things you’ve done. It’s easy to forget that you’ve killed people, hurt people, fought in more battles and wars than one person ever should. You’ve lied and kept secrets, betrayed people. You’ve done a lot of bad in life. But here, among your family, those closest to you, none of that matters, because they’re messed up too. All of you have done terrible things, usually to save the ones you love, and you’ve all been forgiven for that. You’ve all forgiven each other for the betrayals and secrets and fights. And what was once two sets of killer siblings, is now just one big family. Happy, at peace, able to rest for the first time in your lives. 

You look around the table, not seeing Wanheda, Heda, Blodreina, Wanlida, or the man that slaughtered a Grounder Army. Instead, you see your twin, your niece, your sister, and your husband, all of you laughing as you exchange stories, preparing dinner and living a life drastically different from the one you used to live. 

A while later, after the Sancocho Trifásico has had time to cook and the flavors have had time to intertwine, the five of you sit down around the table, bowls in hand. Before you start to eat, you lift your cup and announce. “To those we have lost, and those that aren’t here with us today. To Gabriel.”

Everyone repeats, “To Gabriel,” toasting the man that taught you the recipe you’re all about to dig into. Once you finish your toast, everyone takes their first bite of the meal, a collective moan of delight rippling through your group. There’s a chorus of compliments around the table, everyone praising each other’s contributions, before Madi looks around at all of you and says, “We should make this a monthly thing. Once a month, no matter how busy we are, we all meet up for dinner.”

Everyone nods in agreement, and Octavia adds, “And we can invite the others: Raven, Echo, Hope, Murphy, Emori, Jackson, Miller, Gaia, Indra, Niylah, and Levitt.”

“We can switch houses so the burden never falls on just one person to host. And maybe we can all bring dishes to eat.” They all nod at your suggestion, and you say, “All those in favor, raise your hand.”

Five hands go up around the table, everyone united on Madi’s idea. You nod once, announcing, “Well, that's that. Let the new family dinner tradition begin.”

-

1 year, 3 months after Transcendence

You drag the cart full of fruit behind you, straight into the green glow of the Anomaly, stepping into the palace of Sanctum. 

Normally, you would just drop the fruit off in the palace and head back to Earth, but you have a stack of Intergalactic Council papers to sort through and sign off on, and you’re eager to procrastinate the task. So instead, you bring the cart out of the palace and down to the tavern, stepping inside behind a group of patrons. Jae looks your way as you walk towards the bar, and he smiles and calls out your name. You wave and point to the cart behind you. “I come bearing gifts!”

“We’ve been eagerly awaiting the next shipment from your garden! The last batch went pretty fast.”

You smile at him, proud that everyone seems to enjoy the food from your garden. “I’m glad you liked it! I’ll try to double up on the next batch for you.”

Jae winks, “We’d really appreciate that.”

As you start to unload the fruit into the various baskets around the bar, he looks up from the glass he’s cleaning, a look of realization on his face. “Oh! The last time Niylah was here, she said you guys were looking for old books or anything about history. We found a few things in the library and when we were cleaning out the palace. We put them up in your old room.”

“Thanks, Jae.”

“No problem. I think there are some old magazines too. The news is outdated, but it might be good if you're using them to teach Earth history to the young ones.”

“That’ll be great, I’ll go check them out.” You finish unloading the fruit and leave your cart downstairs as you head towards the stairs. You take them two at a time, turning and heading towards your old room. You smile as you approach the closed door, remembering the last time you were here nearly a year ago, before your wedding. You step inside the old room, your eyes immediately falling on the stacks of books and magazines on the bed, and you can immediately tell that even with your cart, you won't be able to carry all of these back in one trip. You decide to sort through them now and grab the ones that you think Bellamy will like.

You find the Aeneid by Virgil, Metamorphoses by Ovid, The Divine Comedy by Dante, and Paradise Lost by Milton, among others. You gather the books and start to stand, intending to take them and leave, until one of the magazines on the top of the pile catches your eye. It’s a Time Magazine, and normally you wouldn't have paid it any mind, but the front is a picture of a ship overflowing with people, hundreds if not thousands of them. The title reads: “The Battle of San Francisco, humanitarian disaster.” Beneath it, in a smaller print, is a subheading: “Charmaine Diyoza: terrorist or freedom fighter?”

You gasp a little, dropping the books in your hands and reaching out for the magazine, flipping it open to the table of contents. You scroll your finger down the page, reading each blurb until you find the one you're interested in about Diyoza, page 52. You frantically flip the pages, finally landing on a full page picture of Diyoza. You gasp a little when you see it. She looks only a few years older than Hope, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She’s covered in dirt and blood, and her clothes look like a torn military uniform. There is no scar on her neck, her own SEAL team yet to come after her, and her mouth is open in a yell. You can tell from the ferocity of her expression that she’s giving orders, directing the refugees of San Francisco onto an aircraft carrier as others in the background shove the helicopters overboard.  

Honestly, she looks beautiful, and terrifying, and commanding, and all you can think is that Hope has to have this. She lost her mom in such a tragic way, and you know she still blames herself for it. Echo says that some days she doesn't even leave her bed, she just locks herself inside her room and refuses to come out for anyone. But you think that maybe having a small piece of her mother might help her. 

You sift through the rest of the magazines, finding a few more that offer pictures and stories about Diyoza, and before you know it, you have two armfuls of books and magazines to bring back to Earth with you. You manage to grab them all and carry them back down the stairs, setting them into your cart as Jae looks on with a smile. “Looks like a successful trip!”

You smile at him, truly unaware of just how much he’s helped you. “Thank you again, Jae. You can expect double the fruit when I’m here next!”

“We look forward to it!”

You wave your goodbyes to him and to Blythe Ann across the room, before wheeling your cart back to the castle and through the Anomaly to Earth. You stop by your own house since it’s on the way to Hope and Echo’s, and you drop the books and cart off before grabbing the magazines and continuing on your journey. The walk isn't far, and you mostly get to stay on the wooded path that connects nearly all of your houses. It’s a nice walk because the weather is mild, one of those early fall days where the wind is cool but the sun is warm. 

You reach Hope and Echo’s in a matter of minutes, walking through their own personal garden before knocking on the door. You only have to wait a few seconds before the door is opened and Echo smiles at you, “La lune!”

She reaches out and the two of you exchange a hug before she steps aside and motions towards the house. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” You step into their living room, looking around for any sign of the younger Diyoza. “Where’s Hope?”

Echo’s expression drops, her eyes darting to the back of the house. “It’s one of those bad days. She locked me out earlier.”

“Oh.” You feel a pang of disappointment before you hold the magazines out to Echo. “I found these, I thought she might like them.”

Echo’s face lights up as she flips through the magazines, finding the pictures of Diyoza, and she looks up at you with a smile. “You should try to give these to her, she might let you in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just…” She trails off, stepping into the next room to grab an apple and a cup of water off the table. “Try to get her to eat something if she lets you in.”

“I will.”

She smiles and passes the water and apple to you, along with the magazines, and you take the path back to Hope’s room, comfortable with the layout of Echo and Hope’s shared house. You knock on the door a few times with no answer, calling out your name, hoping it’s enough to get the door open. When that doesn't work, you knock again. “Hope, I have something for you.”

You wait, met by silence, before adding, “It’s about your mom.”

You're met by more silence, and you glance down the hall, where Echo stands watching, both of you looking disappointed. But then you hear the lock on the door click, and a smile graces Echo’s face before she slips away, unseen. You turn back to the door and push your way inside, your eyes landing on Hope, already curled back up in her bed. The curtains are drawn and the room is dark, none of the warm afternoon sun reaching the room. You close the door behind you, giving your eyes a second to adjust to the darkness before you cross the room and set the apple and water on the table beside her bed. 

Then, you move to the foot of her bed, sitting yourself down at the edge, keeping your voice soft when you talk to her. “I know what it’s like, you know. My dad got floated because of me. He made a deal to save my life, and I never got to thank him for it.”

You let out a shaky breath, surprised that grief still visits you, all these years later. “Anyways, I went to Sanctum today, and they had these.”

You flip the magazines open to the relevant pages, stacking them together before setting them beside you, right at her feet. Hope makes no move towards them, and she stays silent, the two of you sitting in her dark room without a word. You wait a few minutes before standing, guessing that she needs some time alone. “I’ll leave these with you. They’re yours, if you want them.”

As you start to step away, a hand reaches out and clamps down on your wrist, stopping you. You turn to look at Hope, her eyes locked on you, tears welling up in them. “Can you read them to me? The stories, I mean.”

You give her a small smile and nod your head. “Sure. You have to eat that apple though.”

Hope sits up, adjusting her position in the bed to make room for you to slide in beside her. She reaches out for the apple as you flip through the magazines, deciding to start with the Time Magazine article. You glance at Hope, and she takes a bite of the apple, bringing a smile to your face as you shift the magazine so she can see the pictures. And then, you begin to read, “Charmaine Diyoza, former NAVY Seal turned self proclaimed freedom fighter, is pictured here with the refugees of…”

-

1 year, 6 months after Transcendence

You sit in the chair in front of the mirror, checking over your appearance as Clarke carefully braids sections of your hair, tucking them out of the way for your date tonight. As she works, she muses, “Are you excited? I can’t believe it’s been a year already.”

You smile, thinking of the night you have planned for you and Bellamy. A trip to Sanctum to visit the new dance night at Jae and Blythe Ann’s tavern, followed by a moonlight picnic, like the one you used to have back at Arkadia. “Yeah, I think it’s going to be great. I hope Bellamy is surprised.”

Clarke smiles at you in the mirror. “I know he will be.”

She tucks the last few braids into place and reaches for the hair clips you wore at your wedding, arranging them in your hair as an extra touch. As she works, she asks, “What do you think of Raven?”

Your brows pull together and you try to lock eyes with her in the mirror, and you open your mouth to ask what she means. But then you see the light tint of a blush in her cheeks, her eyes avoiding yours, her tone tentative, and you suddenly realize what she means. You look away from her, back at your reflection, as you muse, “She’s pretty. Smart too. And she’s saved our asses a few dozen times, so we maybe owe her some undying gratitude.”

Clarke lets out a soft laugh before placing in the last hair clip, her eyes finally meeting yours in the mirror. “I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles, growing more confident with each passing second. “Yeah.”

You stand from your seat, turning to hug her, pulling away to smile at her and say, “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Thank you, la lune.” You have no idea what she’s thanking you for, but you know you have a reason to thank her, due to her weeks of support as you planned your first anniversary celebration with Bellamy, so you counter, “Thank you, my shining star.”

She smiles at you before grabbing your hand, tugging you towards the door. “Okay, time to go. You don't want to be late!”

You allow her to pull you out of the room and down the stairs to your waiting husband, eager to celebrate your first wedding anniversary.

-

2 years after Transcendence

You and Bellamy stalk through the woods, eyes scanning the brush around you.

He has a rifle slung over his shoulder, but he ignores it, favoring the axe in his hand to hunt with. You have your Grounder knife out, both of you tracking the boar that you can hear nearby. Somewhere up ahead, a twig breaks, and you and Bellamy turn to look at each other, eyes wide, and he nods towards it, taking the lead. You move behind him, scanning the woods around you for the wild animal, and as you do, you feel a wave of nausea pass through you. You shake your head, trying to will it away, hoping it’ll pass long enough for you to get through your hunt. But shaking your head only makes you feel worse, and suddenly feeling light headed, you pause, stilling your movements. 

It only takes a moment for Bellamy to notice your absence, and he backtracks towards you, immediately reaching out and putting his hands on your cheeks, lifting your face to look at him. “Hey, what’s going on? Why’d you stop?”

He can tell something is wrong as soon as he looks at you, a light sweat across your face despite the cool temperature, and you don't have time to answer him before you push his hands away, quickly turning to vomit. Bellamy reaches out for you, holding your hair back and putting an arm around your waist to support you, and as soon as you finish puking, you sway in his arms. You feel a rush of dizziness, and Bellamy turns you towards him again, looking you over with concern. “La lune, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Must be a stomach bug or something. Clarke said something was going through the school last week.”

Bellamy leans down and scoops you up in his arms, and you let out a sound of protest. “Bellamy, I’m fine! I can walk.”

Bellamy shakes his head, already turning back towards the town. “I’m not taking any chances. The last stomach bug that went around took everyone out for nearly a week.”

You’re about to protest again, but Bellamy gives you one of those looks, and you know immediately that it’s a waste of time to argue with him when he’s being protective. He carries you all the way back to town, heading straight for the small clinic near the center, where Jackson works on a day to day basis. As soon as he door is open, Bellamy is yelling out, “Jackson! I need your help!”

Jackson comes running, and as soon as he catches sight of you, his expression morphs into one of deep concern. You wave him off immediately, trying to placate his worries. “I’m fine, Bellamy’s just being dramatic.”

But as soon as Bellamy puts your feet on the ground, your knees give out beneath you, and he has to quickly catch you before you hit the ground. Jackson’s concern returns, and he motions for Bellamy to follow him. “Bring her in here.”

Bellamy follows the doctor down the hall, sitting you down in a bed as Jackson turns to you. “What are your symptoms?”

“I’m feeling kind of weak and dizzy.”

Bellamy adds, “She threw up on the way here.”

Jackson hums, turning to reach for some equipment. “Could be dehydration. I wanna do some blood work on you, and if it’s dehydration, we can treat you and have you back home in a few hours.”

You nod, and Jackson readies everything to take your blood, the process going smoothly. He leaves the room with your samples, and you and Bellamy sit in there together, talking and distracting you from the worries that are threatening to take over your mind. You’re there for a few hours before Jackson comes back in, looking over his notes. “Okay, la lune, you’re definitely dehydrated, so we’re gonna get you an IV to bring those levels back up.”

You nod, about to thank him, when he flips another page, reading over a different result, and he looks up at you and Bellamy in surprise. Bellamy immediately gets worried, his voice cracking a little when he asks, “What?”

Jackson smiles, “It seems congratulations are in order. La lune, you’re pregnant.”

You let out a laugh of surprise, turning to look at Bellamy, whose mouth is dropped open in shock. As soon as you turn and lock eyes with him, you both start crying, and he dives at you, pulling you into a nearly bone crushing hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, and you can hear him muttering through his tears, “Oh my god. We’re gonna be parents. I’m gonna be a dad.”

His voice cracks on the word, and you pull away, looking your husband in the face and giving him a watery smile. “You’re going to be the best dad.”

“You’re going to be the best mom.”

He pulls you in for another hug, both of you laughing with disbelief, tears still streaming down your faces. Your joy is overwhelming, though your worries are already beginning to creep in, despite just finding out the news. Because now you have to carry a baby. And raise it. And try not to fuck it up. And it’s overwhelming to think about, but Bellamy's presence is reassuring. Because you know that no matter what, he’ll be there. For you, the baby, your family. Bellamy will always be there.

Especially now, because you’re a mother.

And he’s a father.

And the Blake family is growing by one.

-

2 years, 6 months after Transcendence

Bellamy comes running into your bedroom, a bag in his hand. “I got them!”

You sit up in the bed and smile, and he collapses into the bed beside you, pulling open the bag to reveal a collection of fresh baked cookies, courtesy of Jae. You’re 6 months pregnant, and it’s the only thing that you, your body, and the baby are craving. And Bellamy, the angel that he is, is more than happy to make the trip to Sanctum to grab them for you. You’d go yourself, but Bellamy is very protective and insists on doing nearly everything for you. At first you tried to fight him on it, but eventually you gave in and allowed him to protect you in the way that he so desperately desires.

And now, the two of you lay in bed eating cookies, your shirt pulled up to reveal your round belly. Bellamy finishes his cookie and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your stomach before he whispers, “Hey there, little guy. It’s your dad. I just wanted to tell you that me and your mom love you so much. In fact, we love you to the moon and back again, can you believe it?”

You smile as you watch him, Bellamy already the attentive father that he never had growing up. And he's not the only one that’s attentive and protective of you. All of your family has turned out to be the same way. Clarke, Raven, and Madi come over nearly everyday. Octavia and Levitt bring food by every few days, sometimes with Murphy and an again pregnant Emori, who offers you and Bellamy first time parenting tips. Echo and Hope keep an eye on your garden, and Jackson has even taken to making house calls. You think it’s because your pregnancy is reminding him more and more of your mom, and when she was pregnant with you and Clarke, so you don't argue. Instead, you sit back and accept the doting, aware that everyone means well, and is just eager to offer their love to you, Bellamy, and your growing son.

Bellamy rests his hands on your stomach, his face lighting up every time your little warrior kicks, which is starting to feel like every few minutes at this point. The two of you exchange a smile, and his hand drops to a scar on your side, the one from the assassin in Mount Weather. He traces another scar, stretched across the middle of your stomach, from the first time you met Lincoln. He traces a few more, stretched along your arms, legs, and shoulders, though he doesn't find them all. As he does, he looks up at you, his face reverent as he whispers, “It’s incredible, you know. I’ve seen your body change so much since we met, but never more than I have right now. I’ve seen you stabbed, shot, bloody, and bruised and you always came out the other side stronger. You’re so damn resilient, and now you’re carrying our child. I’m in awe of you.”

You melt, Bellamy always good at leaving you as a nearly incoherent puddle of emotions. You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer, “C’mere.”

He smiles and moves back up the bed towards you, dipping his head to kiss you until you're breathless. The two of you smile as he pulls away, both of you high off your happiness. You've definitely had your struggles in your pregnancy, but moments like this have made it worth it. And you just know that meeting your son will make it all worth it too. 

Bellamy settles onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, offering you another cookie as the two of you stretch out beneath your skylight, searching the stars. He’s quiet for a minute, before he says, “I’ve been thinking about names.”

You glance up at him, expression curious. “Yeah?”

“I know we haven't found anything we really love yet, so I started thinking about the things we love the most: the stars and history. And then, I remembered the first constellation you ever told me about, Orion. I thought that might be a nice name.”

Your face lights up as soon as he says it, and you smile at him. “I think that’s a really good name.”

He smiles at you before continuing, “For history, there was a Roman emperor named Alexander.”

“Orion Alexander Blake.” Your smile grows, knowing immediately that it's perfect. “I love it.”

He looks down at you, a big smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You feel a kick in your stomach, strong enough that Bellamy can feel it too, and you both look down at your stomach with a smile. “I think Orion likes it too.”

Bellamy’s smile grows larger, and he shifts his gaze from your stomach to your eyes. “Orion Alexander it is.”

-

2 years, 9 months after Transcendence

You stand in the kitchen, peering into your cabinets for something to eat while Bellamy waits for you in the other room, studying a chess board. 

He was adamant on getting up to get the snack for you, but you insisted on getting it yourself, not quite sure what you want. And as you stand there deciding, you feel a trickle of water run down your leg. Your stomach drops, already aware of what’s happening, but you look down anyways, confirming what you already guessed.

Your water just broke.

You keep your voice calm as you call out, “Bell!”

He immediately comes running, his face contorted with worry. “What’s wrong?”

He sees you standing in the kitchen, looking at him with wide eyes, and he immediately understands what’s going on. “I’ll get the bag and get the rover started. You go change.”

You hurry to your bedroom the best you can and change quickly, before heading out of the house and into the rover where Bellamy is waiting. His grip on the steering wheel is tight, and you know he’s just as nervous as you are, if not more. As he puts the vehicle into drive, you reach out and place a comforting hand on his thigh. “We’re gonna be okay.”

He puts his hand on top of yours, turning to glance at you quickly with a smile. “I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be comforting you right now.”

“I’m fine.”

But as soon as you say it, the contractions begin.

It takes your breath away, and Bellamy keeps looking at you with worry. “La lune, are you okay?”

You breathe through the pain, relieved when it stops, and you turn to give your husband your most reassuring smile. “I’m okay. The contractions are starting.”

The drive to the clinic isn’t long, but you’re thankful for the rover, gifted to you and Bellamy by the others just a few days prior. The two of you live further out than anyone else, and everyone was worried about how you’d get to the clinic once you went into labor. The distance is short enough that you could have walked, but no one seemed too keen on that idea, you included. Luckily, Miller found the rover a few weeks ago, in pretty bad shape, but with the help of some Bardo tech, they got it fixed up and gifted to you before the big day. 

Bellamy pulls the rover up right outside of the clinic, quickly hurrying to the other side to help you out and into the building. The only person in the clinic right now is Niylah, who stands from the front desk as soon as she sees you. “I’ll call Jackson, pick any room!”

“Thank you, Niylah.”

Bellamy takes you to the first available room and helps you into the bed, before he works on calling Clarke and Octavia on the radioes you all set up between your houses. You try to focus on the sound of his voice as you feel another wave of contractions, and a few minutes later, Niylah comes into the room to get an IV started and let you know that Jackson is on the way. He arrives quickly, and so does Clarke, Raven, Madi, Octavia, and Levitt. Everyone crowds in your room and helps to distract you from the increasing amount of pain you’re feeling, until Jackson finally says that it’s time for you to push. He kicks everyone out, except for Niylah and Bellamy, and he turns to you with a smile. “Okay, we’re gonna push now, are you ready?”

You nod weakly, getting worried before you turn to Bellamy. He reaches out to take your hand, smiling softly at you as he whispers, “You’re the strongest person I know, la lune. You can do this.”

And then you push.

Before you know it, a sharp cry cuts through the room, and you sag with relief, well aware that your son has entered the world. Bellamy cuts the umbilical cord and Jackson and Niylah take your son away, cleaning him up and checking him over. Bellamy presses a flurry of kisses to your face, whispering between each one. “I’m so proud of you. You did so amazing, natshana. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You smile up at him, feeling the energy drain from your body as your adrenaline starts to fade, but in this moment, you are so unbelievably happy. Jackson brings your baby over to you and Bellamy, putting him into your waiting arms. You and Bellamy crouch together, looking down at your son and his tiny nose and tiny ears and tiny hands. You look over at your husband, both of you smiling, and you whisper, “Do you want to hold him?”

Bellamy nods, his smile growing even brighter, into one of those rare ones you treasure so much. It melts your heart as you pass Orion into his arms, Bellamy holding him so tenderly, so carefully. He smiles down at the bundle in his arms, tears springing to his eyes as he whispers, “Hey Orion, it’s dad. I’m so happy that you’re finally here. Me and your mom have been waiting so long to meet you. I love you to the moon and back again, and I’ll always be here to keep you safe.”

You look at Bellamy and Orion, your heart so full of love. At this moment, you’re not sure your life could be any better than it is right now. You have no idea just how wrong you are. 

-

3 years after Transcendence 

Your dazzling little sun comes to see you nearly every day now.

Correction, she comes to see Orion nearly every day. She comes over in the late afternoon, after his nap and before his dinner, to visit and play with him. Sometimes she brings Clarke, sometimes she brings Luca, but mostly she comes alone. You and Bellamy welcome the visit, Madi’s babysitting giving the two of you a little break to rest or work on dinner. 

Today, she comes alone, knocking on the door softly, but full of excitement. You pull the door open to her smiling face, and she pulls you in for a quick hug before barreling past you, into the living room where Orion and Bellamy now play. You close the door and quickly follow her, stepping into the living room to find your husband picking up Orion with a smile, both of them turning to greet Madi. Orion lets out an incoherent babble of happy sounds, and Bellamy nods and mutters, “Yeah, what he said.”

Madi looks between you and Bellamy, a big smile on her face. “I made Orion something.”

“Yeah?”

She reaches into her jacket, pulling out a thick bound book. You all step closer to her as she flips open the first page. “It’s his own sketchbook of stories. Some of them are yours and Clarke’s, some are mine, but some are from the others too. Eligius, Sanctum, Wonkru, Bardo. I interviewed everyone and drew what they described so that I could pass it onto Orion.”

She passes the sketchbook to you, and you flip through a few pages, Bellamy peering over your shoulder. You look up at your niece, equal parts touched and impressed. “Madi, these are incredible!”

“Thank you.”

Bellamy adds, “La lune’s right, these are amazing. Plus, Orion loves storytime.”

Madi looks at him, hopeful. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I read him something now?”

Bellamy nods, passing Orion into her outstretched arms. “Of course. Though, maybe hold off on the violent stories for now.”

She smiles, settling into one of the chairs with Orion in her arms, and you put the book in her lap as she looks up at you with thanks. “I’ve got a good story in mind.”

As you and Bellamy start to step out of the room and towards the kitchen to get a few things done, you hear Madi begin, “Orion, this is the story of your parents. They met on this spaceship in the sky, called the Ark, and…”

-

4 years, 2 months after Transcendence 

You hear a knock on your bedroom door, and you tug your shirt down over your head before yelling, “Come in!”

The door swings open, and Octavia stands in the doorway, a big smile on her face. “Hi, sister.”

You smile back, “Hi, trouble.”

“Trouble?” She scrunches her nose and you let out a laugh before you explain, “Bellamy told me that you put all the kids’ hands in warm water at nap time. He said he was changing kids for an hour.”

She tries to hold back a laugh, but fails, “Oops.”

“Oops is right.”

You cross the room towards each other, and she pulls you in for a hug, leaning back after a moment to inspect your outfit. “That’s what you’re wearing to date night?”

You look down at your clothes, pants, a long sleeve shirt, and some boots, and look back up at Octavia, your voice a skeptical, “Yes?”

She shakes her head. “I know you’ve been married for a few years, but this is awful.”

You balk at her, but she waves off your indignation, turning to grab a bag that she dropped near the door. “Lucky for you, I already anticipated this being a problem, so I brought you this.”

She pulls a top out of the bag, red, velvety, and dressier than anything you’ve worn since having Orion. You look at it with skepticism, but Octavia holds up her hand. “Before you protest, at least try it on first.”

“Fine.”

You take the top from her hand and quickly change into it, turning to look in the mirror as you do. And even though you’re still wearing your usual pants and boots, you already look way better than you did a few moments before. Octavia steps up behind you, pulling your hair out of its ponytail, freeing your hair and looking at you in the mirror. You look at yourself, shocked, not used to seeing yourself dressed up these days. Octavia smiles at you in the mirror. “I mean, you looked great before, you always do, but now you look hot.”

You laugh turning to press an appreciative kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Octavia.”

“It’s always my pleasure.” She turns and motions to the door. “Now, go! Bellamy is waiting for you.”

You smile at her, both of you walking to the door together. “Thanks again for babysitting Orion.”

“There’s nothing I love more than visiting my nephew.”

You walk past the living room, where Levitt is sitting with your son, and the two of you exchange a greeting before you continue on to the door. You try to remind Octavia of Orion's bedtime schedule, but she shakes her head, pushing you out of your now open door. “There are no rules with Aunty O.”

You sigh and she smiles, hugging you one last time before closing the door in your face. You roll your eyes and turn, starting to walk down your porch, looking for your husband. But instead of finding Bellamy, you see a path of candles, leading you into the woods near your house, lighting the way through the rapidly darkening night. You follow the candles with a smile on your face, which only grows larger when you see what’s at the end of the path. 

Bellamy, standing beside a blanket, a spread of food and candles beside him. He grins when he sees you, eyes raking up and down your body with appreciation. “You look beautiful, Mrs. Blake, as always. More radiant than the moon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blake.”

You reach him, and he pulls you in for a kiss, slow and sweet, and when the two of you break apart, you’re both smiling. You turn to look at the blanket, taking in the bowls of fruit and cookies spread across it. “And what’s this?”

“A picnic, like we had in Arkadia. Back when life was all about spying, Grounders, and Pike.”

You turn back to him, “Do you miss it?”

He shakes his head, taking your hand and guiding you down onto the blanket. “Not at all. I’m glad it led us to this moment, this life, but I wouldn't trade any of this right now for anything.”

“Me either.”

The two of you sit talking and eating and laughing, enjoying your date night together, enjoying each other’s presence. And later, after you’ve eaten one too many cookies, and Bellamy’s had a little too much Jo Juice, he looks at you, taking your hand. “Tell me about the stars?”

Normally, it’s a request that comes when he’s upset or angry or looking for a distraction. But now it is one of curiosity, and love, your husband eager to just listen to the sound of your voice. So you smile at him, and answer, “Of course.”

You lift your gaze to the sky, searching for one you haven’t told yet, your eyes finally landing on one overhead. You point it out and begin, “That’s Perseus. I’m sure you know a little about him already.”

Bellamy nods, confirming he does, but he makes no move to stop you, wanting to hear the story from you anyways. You continue, “Perseus and his mother, Danae, were locked in a box by his grandfather and thrown into the sea to drown. But instead of sinking, the box floated, carrying Danae and baby Perseus to a different country. They were greeted by the king of the new land, Polydectes, who immediately fell in love with Danae. But she refused to marry him, claiming she wanted to focus on raising Perseus instead. When Perseus was a young man, Polydectes hatched up a plan that would get him out of his hair so he could marry Danae. He tricked Perseus into agreeing to the mission, which was to slay the gorgon Medusa and bring back her head as proof. Polydectes was sure that Perseus would be killed and he would be able to marry Danae with ease, because Medusa had hair made of snakes, which turned anyone that looked at her into stone.”

Bellamy smiles at you, and you smile back, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before you continue, “The next day, as Perseus began his mission, he sang songs to welcome the rising sun, which pleased the gods. Because of this, they decided to help him on his quest. The goddess Athena gave him a gold shield that he could look into, to avoid being turned to stone but still see what he was doing. Hermes gave him a pair of sandals that would help him move quickly, along with a new moon sword that was sharp enough to cut off Medusa’s head. Armed with these gifts, and a special sack to put Medusa’s head in, Perseus went to the cave of the gorgons and killed Medusa, putting her head into the bag and returning home. On his way home, he came across Andromeda, who was chained to a rock and being offered to a sea monster.”

Bellamy gasps a little, adding dramatic effect to your story, and you roll your eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed. “Luckily for Andromeda, Perseus used Medusa’s head to turn the monster to stone, saving her. She was so grateful she decided to marry him, and the pair continued back to Perseus’ home. They made it just in time to stop the wedding of Danae and Poydectes, which was being forced on Perseus’ mother. He used Medusa’s head to turn the king and his wedding guests to stone, saving his mother in the process. After that, it’s said that Perseus lived for a long time, happily married, and he eventually became king of Mycenae, which he founded. After he died, Zeus put him in the stars, alongside his wife Andromeda.”

Bellamy smiles, squeezing your hand a little. “I hope I get to be by your side in the stars.”

“Me too.” You're quiet for a minute, thinking before you muse, “I guess in a way, you are like Perseus. You’ve definitely slayed your fair share of gorgons and monsters, and you saved me.”

“Does that make me a king?”

You laugh, “Maybe not officially, but you’ll always be a king to me.”

Bellamy smiles at you, tugging you down into a kiss. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

-

8 years after Transcendence

You peer up from your papers and to the late afternoon sun, enjoying the feel of it on your skin. 

It’s the first time you’ve had quiet for a while, as Orion has just reached an age where he’s old enough to go to the school in town during the day. Before that, he stayed at home with you, making it pretty difficult for you to get any real work done while he was awake and playing. But you’re glad you got the time with him, your favorite little carbon copy of Bellamy. He looks just like him, dark, curly hair, a face full of freckles, a bright smile. But he acts just like you, and you can see so much of your personality in him already.

You shake your head, trying to clear the distraction from your brain, giving yourself a wave of nausea instead. You have just enough time to push your papers out of the way before you turn and puke. Your brows pull together, wondering what that could be about, until you remember your pregnancy with Orion. 

And how you found out.

You gather your things and quickly stuff them inside your pack, glad that you’re already in town and not far from Jackson’s clinic. He’s in the lobby, talking to one of the nurses in training when you walk in. He looks up at you with a smile, his gaze questioning. “La lune, what brings you here?”

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Jackson’s eyes go wide and he motions for you to follow him. “Let’s go find out for sure.”

You follow him back into one of the rooms and he draws some blood, returning not long later to inform you that you are indeed pregnant. You let out a surprised little laugh, and Jackson asks, “We can do an ultrasound right now, if you want. Or you can wait for Bellamy.”

You’re about to say you want to wait for Bellamy, but then you think it might be a nice surprise to have an ultrasound picture to show him when you announce the news. “Let’s do one now.”

“Great.”

He takes you into a separate room, pulling out a machine and moving it over your stomach, searching for the baby and its heartbeat. After a moment, he finds it, the heartbeat thudding rhythmically, bringing you a sense of peace. But as Jackson shifts, his eyes go wide, and he whispers, “Oh my god.”

The words send alarm bells off in your head, and you look at him with fear. “What? What is it?”

“You’re having twins.”

You look at him with shock. “What?”

He turns to you with a smile, pointing out the two little blobs on the screen. “It looks like you’re having twins!”

You laugh with disbelief, tears pricking your eyes. “Oh my god. Bellamy’s gonna flip.”

Jackson prints a picture of the ultrasound for you, both of your little babies visible, so you can bring it home to Bellamy. He sends you on your way with a few vitamins and a big piece of news. You practically run the whole way home, excited that Bellamy is already there when you arrive. You come into the house in a flurry of excitement, unable to contain it, and Bellamy looks at you with amusement. “What?”

You can see Orion playing nearby, clearly distracted, so you turn to your husband and say, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

He gives you a weird look, but he complies anyways, holding out his hands for you. You place the ultrasound picture onto his palms, and say, “Open.”

He opens his eyes, and looks down at the picture in surprise, his face instantly lighting up and he turns to you. “You’re pregnant?”

You nod, your face split into a grin, and you motion to the picture. “Look closer.”

Bellamy looks down at the picture again, his eyes finding the two arrows that point to each baby. His mouth drops open in shock, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Are you...is this…”

You finish for him, “Twins!”

“Oh my god.” You laugh at the fact that you, Jackson, and Bellamy all had the same reaction, and Bellamy laughs too, happy. He reaches out and scoops you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. From across the room, your son sees you, and he pulls himself to his feet, proclaiming, “I want a kiss too!” 

You and Bellamy pull away, smiling at each other before he leans down and picks up Orion, lifting him in his arms. Both of you press a kiss to his cheeks, and he laughs, delighted, before you pull away and say, “Hey buddy, we have some news…”

-

15 years after Transcendence

You finish up with the paperwork in front of you, looking up to glance at the clock.

“Is it 3 already?”

Madi looks up in surprise, glancing at the clock too. “I guess so.”

You stand from your seat, stretching before you reach out for your bag and start to pack your things inside. “I’ve gotta go. The twins requested that I walk home with them today so they can show me their favorite tree to play in.”

Madi smiles, shaking her head a little. “They’re so cute.” She stands and starts to pack her own bag, glancing at you in between. “I’ll go with you. Luca has to work late tonight, and I promised I’d pick up Abigail from daycare.”

“Perfect.”

As the two of you grab your bags and head towards the door, Clarke comes tearing inside, looking between you both. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, we have to go get the kids.”

Clarke smiles at the mention of her nieces, nephew, and adopted granddaughter. “I want to come. The council can wait until tomorrow.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

You all laugh as Clarke runs to grab her things, glad that your twin is deciding to join you and Madi today. She works so hard all of the time, and she takes her job as Intergalactic Chancellor very seriously. Sometimes Raven comes to eat dinner with you and Bellamy, because Clarke is working late and she doesn't want to be alone. You’re always happy to welcome her, the woman becoming so much like a sister to you over this last decade. 

As you, Clarke, and Madi make the walk down to the school, you can't help but think about everything that’s happened just with the three of you. Clarke and Raven are now married, and have been for a few years. Madi married Luca a couple of years ago and they have a child together, a three year old girl named Abigail, named after your mother. You and Bellamy haven't had any more kids after the twins, Selene Ara and Helen Carina, each named after a woman from a Greek myth and a constellation. They’re now 7 and still very identical, looking just like you and Clarke did as kids. They have Bellamy’s soft heart and kind spirit, and you love them more with each passing day. 

Orion is now 12, the same age Madi was when she became Commander, a burden that you can't believe you allowed your niece to take on. Because now, every time you look down at Orion, you can't imagine putting something like that on him. And Clarke’s reaction to your betrayal makes much more sense to you now. In the moment, you were so focused on saving her, that you allowed Madi to take on more than she should have. Though everything has long since been forgiven, it’s something you think about often. 

Still, walking between Madi and Clarke, you’re in awe of the women they’ve both become. They inspire you every day to be a better wife, mother, and woman, and you’re so grateful to have them in your life. 

It’s not long before the three of you arrive at the school, the door and windows to the building all thrown open to allow the influx of cool afternoon air inside. The three of you stop just outside the door to the building, watching as Bellamy sits surrounded by all of the kids inside. Your kids, Miller and Jackson’s, Murphy and Emori, Hope and Jordan’s daughter, Echo’s son, all of them spread out around Bellamy. Technically, the school day is over at this point, but every day after school they gather around Bellamy and he tells them all a story from your collective history. The kids love it, all of them proclaiming it their favorite class of the day, and it’s easily won Bellamy the title of ‘favorite history teacher ever’, something he proudly reminds you of on a weekly basis.

But you’re happy that he’s so happy, so at peace. He hasn't picked up a gun in years, not even to hunt, and he hasn't fought anyone in twice as long. And he's more than happy to teach history to the kids every day, and share stories of your history, before coming home to a house full of laughter and love. As he finishes his story about the 100’s first day on the ground (the kids favorite), his eyes lift to you, sensing your presence. He smiles at you and wraps up the story, looking over all of the kids. “That’s it for today!”

They all groan, wanting another story, and Bellamy smiles as he shakes his head. “Maybe, if all of you are really good this week, I’ll tell you two stories on Friday.”

They all clap with excitement before breaking away and grabbing their bags, turning and running to the door, where the rest of their parents, your friends, stand waiting. The twins come running at you as soon as they see you, and you pick one up in each arm for a quick hug. “Mommy, you came!”

You smiled down at Selene, “Of course, I came! I can't wait to see your favorite tree.”

Bellamy walks over then, baby Abigail in his arms, fast asleep. He passes her to Madi, who takes her with a smile of thanks, before he turns to greet you with a kiss. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi handsome.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to Clarke and Madi’s cheek, greeting them both. Orion is the last to join your group, giving you a hug as he reaches you. “Hi mom.”

“Hi baby.” You hug him back, glad he’s still at that age where he wants to hug his mom, and then all of you turn and head out the door. Bellamy locks up the school behind him, before he takes each of the twin’s hands in his own. Orion grabs Clarke’s hand, and you smile at them as they walk slightly ahead of you, talking all things medical. You turn and look at your husband, walking with your daughters, and your smile grows, reminded of how grateful you are to have this family and live this life.

-

50 years after Transcendence

You and Clarke step out onto her porch, cups of tea in hand. You both walk over to the chairs she has waiting, sliding into one of the seats, situated one beside the other. You’re silent, your relationship long past the point where you have to fill the silence, more than content to sit side by side, saying nothing. You’re both well into your 70’s by now, Clarke’s blonde hair faded to a pale gray, yours doing the same. Her hands and face are wrinkled, but her smile is just as bright and her mind is just as sharp as it was 50 years ago. 

And as you take a sip of your tea, she hums, “I’m going to resign as Chancellor next week.”

You turn to her with a look of surprise, “Really?”

You had retired a few years ago, along with Bellamy, but Clarke hadn’t. You were convinced she’d work up until the day she died. “Yeah, I just don't have as much patience for it these days. I’ve been doing it nearly 50 years at this point, and I’m ready to step back, pass the torch on to someone else.”

You nod, take another sip of your tea, and muse, “I think that'll be good for you. Spend the rest of your days with Raven and the kids and grandkids.”

She nods, and your mention of the kids reminds you of the small gift tucked into your pocket. “Oh, I have something for you.”

You pull it out and pass it to her, and she sets her tea aside to unwrap it, revealing a charm, a silver star with a gem in the middle. Clarke smiles at it, admiring it. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s from the girls. They each made one.” You pull your moon necklace from beneath your shirt, a few different charms hanging on it at this point, thanks to the many gifts you’ve received over the years. Clarke’s bracelet looks the same, now something more akin to a charm bracelet, her wrist twinkling every time she moves it. She secures the new charm to the bracelet, looking down at it with a smile. “It’s come a long way from original gifts dad gave us all those years ago.”

“Definitely.” You brush a finger over the original moon, whispering, “I wish they were here to see us. To see who we’ve become. And our families, god I wish they could meet the kids.”

“Me too. But they know, I believe that. And I know they’d be proud of you, la lune.”

You turn to her with a smile, “I know they’d be proud of you too, shining star.”

-

63 years after Transcendence

You step out of your house, welcomed by the sounds of joy and laughter. 

Your eyes roam the yard, searching for your husband, but he surprises you by calling out from beside you. “I’m right here, my love.”

You turn to see his smiling face, patting the seat beside him in the rocking chair on your porch. You smile and move to sit next to him, the two of you softly swinging as you look out into the yard. Gathered there are your friends, kids, grandkids, and your first grandkid, a boy named Jake. As you look out at your large family, Bellamy grabs your hand and squeezes it gently. “This is what I always dreamed of. When I wrote you that note, back before we even knew about Praimfaya, this is what I wanted for us. A big family, full of kids and grandkids, all of them a product of our love. I wanted to live the rest of my life with you by my side.”

You turn to smile at your husband, pressing a kiss to his ageing face. “That’s all I ever wanted my love, and you made my dreams come true. I’ve gotten to live a full life with you, and I wouldn't trade a second of it for anything.”

Bellamy whispers, “Me either.”

The two of you turn back to look at the scene in front of you. Echo is out in the yard, braiding flowers into some of the girls’ hair, and Hope is helping her, reminding you of your days on Skyring. Gaia is sitting with Madi, the two women still close after all these years. Murphy and Emori are playing with the youngest grandkids, always so full of energy when it comes to the kids. Their own seven children gave them 15 grandchildren, and a handful of great grandchildren. Echo only ever had one son, with a man from Wonkru named Michael. Hope and Jordan have two kids, one son and one daughter, and Madi and Luca have three kids of their own. Octavia and Levitt, and Clarke and Raven all decided to remain childfree, choosing instead to be the best aunts and uncle a family could ever ask for. They’ve spoiled your kids more than even you have. Miller and Jackson have a few kids of their own, thanks to the tech on Bardo, and they just welcomed their first great grandchild around the same time you and Bellamy did. 

Your own son brought home a man of his own a few years ago, one he met while studying in Bardo. They both became doctors and remain childfree, but they spoil their nieces and nephews from the children your twins had. Helen married one of Murphy and Emori’s sons, making you related to the cockroach, and they had five kids of their own, including a set of twins, identical boys. Selene married a woman from Sanctum, and they created their own family with Bardo tech, welcoming two kids together. One of Selene’s daughters gave birth to your first grandkid, Jake, who is asleep in his mother’s arms, sitting out in the open air.

And now, sitting on your porch, your hand held tight in Bellamy’s, you can't help but reflect on your life as a whole. You spent the first almost 18 years of your life thinking that you would never see the Ark beyond the walls of your room. You thought you’d live and die in the same room with your parents, and that you’d never make friends, never fall in love. Then Shumway came along. In the moment, you were sure that he ruined your life. But your dad made a deal to have himself floated, just to save you and give you a chance to live beyond the life you had dreamed. Living without your dad was difficult, but it gave you the chance to go to the ground, and it gave you the opportunity to meet Bellamy. 

Your life changed after that.

Meeting your soulmate is one of those experiences that you can't describe to others. You can try, but they’ll only understand when they meet their own soulmate. Until then, they can try to understand your words and hope one day that they’ll get it. But if you had to try explaining the feeling, you’d say that it feels like falling. It’s a rush, and your stomach drops, but you know someone is there to catch you. Raven always says it’s like spacewalking. Tethered to a ship, the only thing between you and the endless universe is this small space suit. That space suit is love, protecting you from the dangers of space, while also allowing you to explore it. 

But no matter how you describe it, it's magical. 

It’s life changing, and even if you hate your soulmate at first, the way that you and Bellamy did, there will always be that inexplicable pull to each other. Half the time you followed him out into the woods, you never knew why. You just knew that you had too. But now, you get it. You know it’s because he is a part of you, part of your soul, and you can't resist the pull to him even if you wanted to. And from that pull came love. A kiss in the middle of a battlefield, a proposal while chained up in a cave, a wedding after saving the human race (again). Three kids, seven grandkids, and one great grandkid, all a product of your love.

You’re not sure you would have believed that this would be your future if someone had told you back then. Back when life was all about Grounders, fighting, Mountain Men, and war, you would have never thought that peace was possible. But it is, and you and everyone you know and love has spent the last 63 years proving that it is. The alien species that created the stones leaves you alone, allowing the remaining survivors of the human race to just be. They seem to have no interest in any of you beyond the few that choose to transcend when they turn 25. 

You are suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by someone yelling, “Nana luney!”

You smile, turning your focus to the voice, your eyes landing on one of Miller’s grandkids, David. He smiles at you, waving you over, “Come tell us a star story!”

You glance at Bellamy and he grins at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Duty calls.”

You stand and start to walk over to the gathering group, only to be stopped by Selene, who calls from inside the house, “Time to eat!”

The kids all groan, and you smile at them. “I’ll tell you one after dinner, I promise.”

They smile and all run into the house, grabbing their plates and returning outside. Orion brings a plate for you and Bellamy, helping you both down the stairs and into the grass with the others. You’re having one of your first nice days in weeks, and everyone agreed that they wanted to eat outside. Someone set up blankets and tables for those who need it, but you feel good enough to plop down on a pillow beside Bellamy, Clarke, and Raven. 

Once everyone has gotten their plates and returned outside, you begin the dinner the same way you have every month for the last 63 years: with a toast. Bellamy lifts his cup, looking over the many faces gathered there. “To those we have lost, and those that aren’t here with us today.”

You know everyone is thinking of those that have passed in the last few years: Indra and Niylah, Jae and Blythe Ann, Jackson. Losses that affect each of you when they occur, every one of you so close after everything you’ve endured together. Still, all of you have promised to celebrate their lives and not mourn their deaths, so you lift your glasses and repeat, “To those we have lost, and those that aren’t here with us today.”

Everyone drinks, honoring those that are absent, hoping that they’re somewhere in the stars watching, smiling at the tradition that has never died.

-

67 years after Transcendence

The gods look down at the devoted couple, held tight in each other’s arms, both of them taking their last breaths together. And as the couple passes on, the gods exchange a look, tears present in some of their eyes. “It was a love story for the ages.”

“A privileged, invisible twin falling for the demoted guard that only ever tried to do right by his little sister. A love that was felt across the Universe as we all watched on, rooting for them. A love that crossed the stars and left their mark on multiple planets, and a moon. I think there’s only one place for them.”

The god gives the other a surprised look. “Do you think so?”

“They belong in the stars. They always have.”

“Then it must be so. Let it be known that we have an 89th constellation being created: The Lovers.”

Year round The Lovers shine down on Earth, reminding all those they left behind of the power of their love. They live on as legends, their story told for generations to come. As a kid, you never thought you’d be up among the stars, your life told as a story, the same way your father told you the stories of countless others. But because of Bellamy and your unforgettable love for each other, you become part of history forever. 

And it all started over 200 years ago, on a dying spaceship floating over the Earth, when a cocky ex-guard came running down the abandoned halls of the Ark, finding you held tight in Shumway’s arms.

Thus beginning a love story that would span from this lifetime, and into the next.

Forever. 

-

Fin.

-

One 68 page outline, 14 pages of written notes, 3 maps, and 2 calendars later, we did it!!! That’s it, my friends. That’s a wrap. It’s insane to think that I sat down in January of 2020 and decided to write a 7 season, 101 chapter rewrite. It’s insane to think that I actually did it. This journey has been so wonderful. I have learned so much, had so much fun, and truly grown from writing this monster of a series. But more than anything, I’m fucking grateful. I have met so many lovely people through this series, made so many incredible friends, read so many kind comments and messages. And I just gotta say: thank you. Thank you to those that have been there since I posted 1.01 all those months ago. Thank you to those of you that showed up later, throughout the seasons. Thank you to all of the binge readers, the weekly readers, and those of you that commented on every upload. Thank you to everyone who ever sent me a message or ask or commented. Thank you to the quiet readers too, the ones that have enjoyed sub rosa silently. Fanfiction is an escape for so many of us, and I'll never judge the way that you consume content. So even if we’ve never interacted or talked before, but you took the time to read this series, then thank you!!!

I have more projects planned and more series coming out, including a sub rosa au mini series, another Bellamy x reader series, and others! I’m also going to be posting in a few other fandoms as well, if you’re interested. If you like me or my writing, I invite you to stick around. If sub rosa is the only content of mine you think you’ll ever enjoy, just know that it’ll always be here for you. 

Okay, that’s all for now. I love you all more than the stars, in this lifetime, and in the next!!!!

[sequinsmile-x]

Riptide

A love story told from two perspectives. One after it is has ended, and the other just as it begins.

Chapter 1: The Beginning 

Words: 3.8k 

Rating: Mature. Major Character Death.

You can either read over on a03, or below the cut. 

I would love to know what you think. 

“I have loved with the breadth of the ocean, and lost with the grief of rainfall.” - Angie Weiland-Crosby ___________________

October 2025

His wake is in the house they shared together. People she both recognised and didn’t mill through their home, giving her and Jack their condolences as they passed by.

Emily’s grief felt oppressive, like she was drowning in it. Every breath she heaved in through her lungs burned in her chest. Hollowing out the place where his love used to live.

She had been through a lot in her life. Her childhood was snatched away from her at 15 in a small clinic in Rome. Ian Doyle had torn through her life twice, leaving disaster behind him both times. The ruins of her life his personal victory, even in his death.

But this, losing Aaron, was by far the worst thing she had experienced. Since the moment she was told he was dead she had struggled to comprehend it, only really believing it when she was taken to see his body. Emily felt numb. She knew she was pushing everyone away but she couldn’t help it. The solitude of her grief helped her just about cope enough to get up in the morning.

“Emily?”

She turns to see JJ standing at the door of Aaron’s home office, having clearly sought her out. Emily would place money on the fact the team was taking it in turns to check on her. Their own grief for Aaron outweighed by concern for her.

“I’m hiding from my mother.” Emily explains from where she is sitting on the couch. “She has no tact and I can’t cope with her today of all days.”

JJ sits next to her and places her hand on Emily’s. She runs a thumb over her knuckles. A gesture Emily thinks is supposed to be comforting, but she can barely feel it. The numbness she has felt the last couple of weeks ever present. Like she was watching life from behind glass, all of her senses muted and warped by grief.

“Em-”

“Don’t ask me if I’m ok. Or say anything kind.” She pulls her hand from under JJ’s and stands, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Trying desperately to hold herself together, but feeling like she could fall apart any minute. “I don’t think I can take it.”

JJ stands too but keeps a good distance from her friend, respecting the boundaries Emily had put firmly in place the morning after everything changed. “He wouldn’t want this for you, he’d be worried.”

Emily scoffs, but tears fall onto her cheeks anyway. She furiously wipes them away with the heel of her hand. “I wish people would stop saying that.”

JJ’s face crumbles, barely restrained emotion on her own face. “He loved you Emily. You were going to-”

“JJ. I really don’t need you to explain my relationship to me.” Emily says harshly, bitter words falling past her lips to stop her from breaking down. She felt like she hadn’t stopped crying in days. “I have to go check on Jack.”

“Em-”

“He lost his father. The only parent he had left. He’s what’s important right now, everything else can wait.” She turns to leave, hand hovering over the door handle to lead her out of his office and she hesitates to turn back around to look at her friend. “I love Aaron, JJ.” The use of the present tense wasn’t lost on either of them. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And he’s gone. I’m never going to get him back and you need to let me deal with that in my way. Okay?”

She leaves the office before JJ can respond. She walks through the hallway of the house she and Aaron had bought together, a photo on the wall making her stop in her tracks. Penelope had taken it on a night out with the team not long after Emily and Aaron first got together. She had just been injured on a case, her shoulder still sore from where she’d been stabbed. Aaron was still fussing, not drinking so he could take her home whenever she was done. He had pulled her onto his lap, his broad chest protecting her shoulder from being jostled by anyone. Occasional whispers in her ear asking how she was slowly driving her crazy. Penelope snapped the photo as she turned her head to admonish him, a loving look on her face.

The squeal that came out of her friend after she took it still echoed around Emily’s head 4 years later. Penelope had passed her phone over, showing them the photo of them looking at each other like no one else existed.

She’s always loved that photo. She had sent it to her own phone immediately and had it printed. Now it made her heart clench in her chest, wishing she could see him again. Their home now felt like a museum of memories, their life together a snapshot in time that would never have been enough, even if they had grown old together. In the two weeks since he had died every part of her wanted to run, to get out and leave this all behind.

She stays despite everything in her screaming to leave. To get out of the house they shared, the city that reminded her of him at every turn. She wants to be somewhere he never had been, in the futile hope that she would one day be able to breathe without it being painful, without her lungs constricting like she was underwater.

She stays. She knows from experience that running away won’t fix anything, that she would just take memories of him anywhere she went. Carried on her skin like tattoos of his affection, etched permanently onto her. And in her worst moments, when having been loved by him felt more like a curse than the blessing it was when he was alive, she wishes she could hate him for it.

Jack is standing with Jessica in the living room. Emily is reminded of watching Aaron and Jack together at Haley’s funeral so many years ago. It was hard to believe that the little boy was now the young man in front of her, back in town from college and clearly wanting to be anywhere else.

He looks so much like Aaron that it steals her breath away.

“Jack.” She says gently as she approaches, a tight smile on her face. Both Jack and Jessica turn to look at her. “I’d ask how you are doing but that’s a stupid question.”

The 20 year old nods at her. “It’s weird. Knowing he’s gone forever.” Jack replies, clearing his throat. “It feels final now.”

Emily agrees, her fingers digging into the skin around her thumbnails. “Where are you staying tonight? You can stay here if you want. Your room is still set up.”

“I’m going to stay with Aunt Jessie.” He says tilting his head towards his aunt. “Thanks, though.” He adds as an afterthought. “Excuse me.” He walks off, having spotted Henry in the corner, and Emily sighs as he goes.

Her relationship with Jack had always been good, but since Aaron’s death it had been difficult. Tense in a way that tore through her. Their mutual love for Aaron was no longer the thing that was the foundation for Emily and Jack’s relationship.

It was that they both believed his death was her fault.

“Emily.” Jessica puts her hand on her arm and squeezes it. “He’ll come around. You know he doesn’t actually think-”

“Thanks, Jess.” She cuts the other woman off, not wanting to hear anything else. She walks off again, desperate for a moment alone.

JJ seeks her out again once most people have left. The team helps tidy up, removing all traces of the wake from her house before they leave. JJ has a plate of food in her hands that was clearly intended for Emily. She places it in front of her on the coffee table and sits next to her.

“I’m not hungry, JJ.”

“Em, please.” She says, worry laced through her voice. “You have to eat something. He wouldn’t-”

“JJ stop.” Emily shouts, finally at her wits end. “Aaron is dead. He’s dead. So it doesn’t really matter what he would want, does it?” She curses under her breath as tears spring to her eyes, and she wipes them furiously away from her cheeks as they fall. She’s aware of the rest of the team around them, stopping their individual tasks and desperately pretending they weren’t listening in.

“Emily-”

“Do you know what I keep thinking about?” She asks, interrupting any more platitudes JJ may have that she simply cannot bear to listen to, she watches as her friend shakes her head. “I keep thinking about when I died. There was nothing. It was dark, and empty. Just nothing.” Emily’s chin wobbles as she tries to keep the emotion in, failing as her next words choke out around a sob. “And I lay there at night, on his side of the bed, and hope it’s different for him.”

This time she doesn’t shy away from JJ’s touch, and allows herself to be pulled into a hug she cannot bring herself to return. ___________________________

Once everyone has gone she lays in bed, on his side, and stares at the ceiling. She is wearing one of his shirts and wonders when all of his clothes will stop smelling like him, when she will lose the last trace she has of him.

Emily closes her eyes, both wanting sleep to come and for it to evade her. Aaron was always in her dreams, mostly good ones. Memories of their lazy mornings in bed together played out during the night in her head. The sound of his laugh as he trailed his fingers down her spine to wake her slowly, his enjoyment at her inability to function first thing in the morning never ending.

The dreams were a blessing. A reminder that it had been real, that she’d had him. They were also a curse. She’d wake with the ghost of his touch on her skin, and for a blissful moment she’d forget he was dead. She’d half expect to see him standing at their bedroom door, coffee in hand with a smile on his face.

Then she would remember, and it was always too much to bear. ___________________________

It’s Dave that comes over. Letting himself into the house with the spare key Aaron had given him, claiming that he felt better knowing other people that they trusted had access to their home in case of an emergency. Emily knew it was a lingering fear he had from when Foyet had broken into his apartment, those memories still sharp in his mind until the day he had died.

A small knock on the bedroom door announces Dave’s arrival a mere second before he opens it. She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t tear her gaze from the dress hanging on the door of the closet. She's sitting on the floor, back pressed up against the side of the bed. Her knees are against her chest, her arms wrapped around them like she was physically holding herself together.

“Did you draw the short straw today, Dave?” She sniffs, wipes her hand across her face to wipe off what felt like ever present tears. “You guys don’t need to check up on me. I’m fine.”

Dave sighs and sits next to her, groaning as he joins her on the floor, his body protesting the movement. “You’re not fine, bella.” He says simply. “And the others don’t know I’m here.”

She can sense his want to help her, sees his fingers twitch out of the corner of her eye as he seemingly tries to figure out if she wants to be touched or not. In the end he settles for leaning against the bed with her, a distance between them just small enough that she can feel his presence. Emily leans her chin on her knees, eyes still fixed on the white dress infront of her.

The dress that, if things had been different, if she hadn’t lost him, she should have worn today. She remembers teasing Aaron about it, telling him just enough about how it fastened up her back, how careful he’d have to be when he took it off to not break any of the delicate buttons.

She fiddles with her engagement ring before she opens her clenched fist to reveal two matching wedding bands in the palm of her hand. The rings they would never get to wear.

“It’s meant to be my wedding day, Dave.” She says, voice breaking around the words that didn’t need to be said. “And he’s not here, he never will be.” ___________________________

June 2021

When Aaron first moves back to Virginia it feels strange, like he was stepping back in time. The first thing he thought of was the team, of her. Once he no longer had to hide his identity he could have reached out. He almost had more than once, this thumb hovering over Emily’s name in his contacts, but he always stopped himself. Unsure what to say, thinking whatever they could have been had passed them by in a flurry of tragic circumstance and bad timing.

He’s back for two weeks when he sees her, and she’s somehow more beautiful than ever. He calls her the next day. ___________________________

Emily shouts at him. A lot. Years of pent up anger and worry spilling out over the phone when she answers, mixed with curse words and sighs in a way that was just so *her* it makes him laugh.

“And what is so fucking funny, Aaron?”

He clears his throat, tries to smother another laugh but doesn’t quite manage it. “Nothing, Emily. I just...I missed you.”

“Well.” She replies. “Whose fault is that.” There’s a pause, and it is just long enough that he thinks she’s going to hang up, leaving their interaction there. Aaron is about to speak and give her an excuse when he hears her sigh. “I missed you too.”

A spark of hope flares in his chest, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. “How about I take you to dinner? My treat. You can yell at me in person.”

Emily laughs at that, and he can picture how her eyes would crinkle with it. She was always so damn beautiful when she smiled. “That does sound appealing.”

“Tomorrow? If you don’t get caught with a case?”

She pauses, and he would bet his life savings if he could see her that she was biting her lip. “Tomorrow.” ___________________________

When she doesn’t get a case, and confirms that she will meet him at the restaurant he suggested, Aaron tries not to overthink it. He tries not to get carried away and think that this could be their chance, that the universe was finally aligning for them.

Emily tells him about her relationship with Andrew, how it had come to an end. Both of them were too set in their ways to truly make room for each other in their lives. He tells her about Jack, how he cannot believe his son is a teenager. The years had slipped by in a way that made him reflective, and she teases him out of his melancholy by telling him stories about the team. Aaron didn’t realise how much time had passed until the waitress came over and gently told them they needed to close the restaurant. Emily exchanges a sheepish look with him when they realise they are the last ones there.

She refuses his offer of walking her home, claiming it was pointless since she lived so far away and that she’d be fine in a cab. He gets a text from her when he gets home himself, an offer of another meal soon, insisting that she pays next time.

For their third date, because that was how he now exclusively thought of their dinners, if only in his head, he purposely choses somewhere near hers so he can walk her home. She narrows her eyes at him as he suggests it, having figured out his game but she allows him to play it anyway.

During the three block walk to her place she slips her hand into his. He turned to look at her but she was pointedly looking ahead, avoiding his gaze. That’s when Aaron realises she wants this as much as he does, and is just as worried about it as he is, what it could do to both of them. Neither of them would ever admit it, but they were both fragile when it came to love. Damage as clear as the scars they both bore on their bodies.

He stops them in the street, now half a block from her building, and stands in front of her, still holding onto her hand. He uses his spare hand to cup her cheek, to make her look at him. She licks her lips, her eyes now staring right into his.

He’d always thought her eyes were beautiful.

Aaron closes the gap between them and presses his lips to hers. She responds almost immediately, tearing her hand out of his so she can cup the back of his head and pull him closer.

It’s years of waiting, of hoping, coming together in a perfect moment. Her hands are in his hair, and his are on her back, pulling her closer as he tastes the dessert they shared on her tongue.

She pulls back, and rests her forehead against his, a laugh escaping her lips before she presses them against his again.

“We should have been doing this for years.” She murmurs against his lips, her hand stroking the back of his head . He mumbles his agreement before kissing her again, unable to help himself now the dam was broken. She suddenly pulls away, lips swollen as she looks at him, seemingly remembering that they were standing in the street still. “Come on, let's go.”

Aaron smiles at her as she tugs his hand, determined to lead him down the street. “Where are we going?”

“To mine.” She says simply, groaning when he comes to a stop, easily stopping her from walking any further. He places a hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him again.

“Em-”

“Don’t ask me if I'm sure.” She says, bringing a hand to his cheek and smiling at him, “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

That night they lay in her bed, in tangled sheets, fingers trailing over scars they’d both imagined for years. They are reverent with each other, acting as if they are both made of something precious. He laces his fingers through hers as he enters her for the first time, her broken gasp in his ear almost too much for him. When she breaks around him and he follows her over the edge he whispers words of praise into her skin, tells her how perfect she is to him, and he hears her repeating it back to him as her lips press to the scar closest to the top of his chest.

Aaron thinks she has never looked so beautiful as she did when she was curled up against him in her bed, hair in disarray and a sleepy smile on her face. When he tells her as much she scrunches her nose at him and tells him he’s ridiculous, a hand sliding up his chest as he pulls her in and kisses her again.

He stops himself from telling her he loves her that night as she falls asleep in his arms. The promise of their next date being breakfast the following morning dying on her lips as she is lulled into sleep. ___________________________

Emily gets hurt on a case a month later, and it’s bad enough that she ends up in hospital. Dave calls him, and Aaron isn’t even sure how he knew to do so until he says Emily asked for him.

The case was mercifully close by, Aaron jumping in his car to do the two hour drive as soon as he’s off the phone with Dave. A note left for Jack saying what had happened, and a call to Jessica to ask her to look after the teenager that night.

He makes it to the hospital in 80 minutes. A vaguely amused looking Dave meets him at the front desk and tells him that she is fine, that she lost a fair amount of blood to the unsub’s knife and that they were keeping her in for observation overnight.

Aaron doesn’t believe him until he sets eyes on her himself, the door to her room clicking closed behind him. He briefly thinks about the team standing outside her room, the confusion on their faces at him being there, at what he was sure was fear on his face.

“Em, sweetheart.” The nickname slips out before he realises what he is saying, the first time he’s said it, and it makes her eyes brighten at him.

“Hi Aaron.” She tries to smile at him, but the pain lacing through her arm and shoulder means it doesn’t go far. She swallows against her dry throat and she holds out her good hand to him which he eagerly takes, any concerns about the team disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. “It looks worse than it is.”

He raises an eyebrow at her before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Me too.” She smiles up at him. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Em.” Aaron smiles when she fails to suppress a yawn. “You should get some sleep.”

Emily frowns at him. “You only just got here.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He runs his hand over her forehead, pushing her hair out of the way. He can’t help but smile when her eyes flutter shut at the first touch of his skin to hers. He keeps the movement across her skin going, watching as her breathing evens out.

“I think I love you.” He whispers, sure she was fast asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by his thumb stroking over her forehead.

She laughs weakly and opens her eyes. “Oh, well I know I love you.”

Aaron leans down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you.” Another kiss. “Now get some sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She closes her eyes, the painkillers in her system making her tired. “I hope you’ll always be there.”

Aaron smiles at the admission, something she would never have said out loud in normal circumstances. He runs his thumb over her forehead again.

“I’ll always be here, I promise.”

(It’s the only promise he ever breaks.)

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Ash.”

A couple people were showing some interest in other Alien characters aboard the ship, and I thought I would give you all some insight into that. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you all have a great day. 

“You have ruined this family.”

“What have you done!” 

“The war is the only thing left for you now, so make yourself useful and die.”

-

Etium slowly lifted his head from the computer where he sat staring blankly at the accounting spreadsheet on the screen. Beside him, the other two Tesraki’s chairs were empty. He sighed, and slowly turned back to the accounting. They had likely finished their half of the books hours ago, leaving him to sit in the darkness alone with his own strange thoughts. His four fingered hands clicked at the keys of the human made keyboard,

He was good at typing, pretty fast for someone who was missing two requisite fingers, but he was nothing in comparison to the others.

He was nothing in comparison to most Tesraki.

Etium was slow when it came to doing the books, repeatedly checking every line and ever string of numbers for any possible mistake that could have been made. The process took him hours longer than it should have, but finally he stood, pushing back his chair and hopping down to the floor. The human ship whirred softly in the distance. It was a comforting sound, but he had always found some measure of comfort in humanity.

Etium had been hit the hardest by the huminization phenomenon. It didn’t surprise him all that much. He had fought side by side with humans since the Drev war, and the changes in him had taken a long time to develop. They ran deep now through his body as sure as his blood. WIth skills honed in human war, and being one of few survivors, he was quick to react to sounds, followed movement more easily, and could read body language better than almost any other alien he knew.

Dr Krill wasn’t even as good as he considered himself.

That’s what war did to a person.

He reached up to his torn ear and shivered at the smell of smoke that seemed to waft up from his fur. He could never get the smell of ash out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

Etium knew there was something wrong with him, but he kept that to himself. The others tended to avoid him, and that was alright. He was friends with the Finnari, and while they were a bit sensitive, he supposed that was ok. He didn’t need anyone asking questions about what he was doing and why he was there.

He ducked through one of the maintenance corridors, and into the hallway behind the rec room.

He could hear humans and Drev talking and laughing on the other side, but when he passed through the next door, he found the hall opened into a large-ish storage room that was lined in boxes and crates. Inside was what remained of the Omen crew. Tesraki, Finnari, Celzex and Yeb. They had a little place here for those aliens who found it difficult to constantly interact with humans.

Yeb was a bit of a special case as she seemed to hop between both without much trouble. She lounged on one of the crates, her tail swishing back and forth against the box below her, bright green fur along her back, waving slightly in the air currents.

Etium leaned against the wall making no noise, and interacting with no one.

He wouldn’t have minded hanging out with humans, and drev, but….. Every time he did he just couldn’t shake the smell of smoke.

Why was he here?

Because he had seen a human boldly risk his life for two wounded alien soldiers.

Etium remembered the red sky above and the ash covered ground beneath. He remembered the wounded Rundi soldier at his side as the creature stalked towards them from the darkness. He remembered the flash of blue, and then an animal howl as the human came charging from nowhere.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the blood curdling scream of pain the human had given off as his limbs were ripped from his body.

He shook himself trying to shake the smoke away.

“Clan is more important than anything else.”

Etium lifted his head, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Then mean nothing.” Yeb was saying, “My parents abandoned me in an ice cave when I was just a cub.”

“Not our fault your species is defective.” Lord Avex was saying.

The burg lifted his hands in an attempt to keep the piece, technicolor wings flickering behind him, “Not now, all of you we must remember that as different species we all have different beliefs and needs. He pressed his hands together. The Burg do find clan very important, but it was for our survival for the longest time. There are plenty of other species that don’t need such things, like the Vrul or the Gibb for example, who are solitary creatures.”

The group of three finnari huddled close together and nodded.

They wouldn’t be likely to argue, they hated conflict and tried to keep the peace as much as it was possible.

He glanced over to the side surprised to find Waffles, the dog, lying with her head on her paws, around her neck, the snake creature Jeffery hung like a boa scarf.

He supposed she had any right to be here like the rest of them, she wasn’t human and neither was the snake. Though neither of them were classified as sentient and didn’t have the intelligence to speak. Waffles licked at her paws and Jeffery lifted his head turning to look at the speakers as if he was listening intently.

“This is not about biology, this is about the facts. There is strength in numbers, and numbers can win out over force anyday. Humans are the best example of this and you all know it. They managed to survive on a death world by making packs.”

Lord Avex did have a point, but lord Avex was also known for being an egotistical asshole.

That was sort of the defining feature of Celzex.

The furry little creatures were very proud, and very loyal, so they were both a blessing and an absolute pain to have on your side.

Most of the time they just liked causing problems for the sake of causing problems.

“There is nothing wrong with a solitary existence. My species has been living as single occupants inside a distanced society for a very long time.”

Lord Avex snorted, “Might I also point out that you society is a fascist Authoritarian dictatorship recovering from a pandemic crisis and refuses to join the GA to control their own citizens?”

The hair on the back of her body stood up, “Oh like your planet is any better. Roving warring clans who eat their own children.”

“Please, Peace.” THe burg was saying.

“You have no place in this. The burg have lived under a corrupted monarchy for ages.”

Etium sighed and closed his eyes.

Apparently, he had sighed much louder than he intended, and when he opened his eyes the entire room was looking at him,

“You got something to say.” Avex growled, “Anything to offer from a corporate capitalist hellscape.”

Etium pushed himself off from the wall, “No, I have nothing to say.”

Avex bristled, and when he did he got even fluffier, “I don’t think we are done here. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Etium sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of this one, “I think that all of our societies suck, they just all do it equally.”

The room bristled, but he kept going. He had stuck his foot in it and now he was going to have to deal. He looked at yeb and Avex, “Both of you are true about the other, same with the burg sorry to say.” He nodded over at the winged creature, “But think about it, all of us suck in some way or another,. My species destroyed our own natural habitats in the name of progress, He looked at the Finnari, No cohesive leadership, and a societal wide inability to make decisions. The Vrul live under a corrupted communist system and the Rundi are all politicians, so guess where that leads us. The Drev are a fractured group of clans bent on killing each other for no other reason than the fact that it is honorable. And don’t even get me started on humans, they are the worst of us all, since they can do everything we can and more.”

He sort of expected the uproar that followed, but kept his head low to avoid having to deal with it. He brushed a hand through his fur, attempting, mostly to brush the ash from it, and despite being able to feel it with his fingertips, he saw none break loose.

The room grew louder and louder until a sharp bark broke the silence.

The room went very quiet very suddenly.

He turned to see waffles had risen up into a sitting position, her hackles raised.

She growled low in her throat , and the entire room calmed down very quickly after that, Jeffery opened his mouth and turned his head like a periscope around the room.

Waffles slid back onto the floor and rested her chin on her paws ears sticking straight up as she sighed.

The room was only slowly able to return to its former discussion, though everyone remained mostly quiet.

Etium slumped back against the wall. He could see the other Tesraki across the room staring at him. He tried to ignore them for the most part, he didn’t really fit in with them to any sort of degree. He didn’t blame them.

He wasn’t particularly good with finances.

He didn’t have to be though, most humans were pretty poort at it too, so any ability whatsoever was considered good. That was another reason why he was here. If he was slow and ok at handling money, then he was going to be fine. If he tried to work anywhere else as a Tesraki….

He'd be fired

Or disowned…

Etium quietly slipped from the room, out and down the hallway. He knew where he was going, and followed his own memory down through the hallways until he came to a door. He knocked once.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and he stepped into a room lit by soft yellow light. Dr Adric was sitting at his desk, skin glowing a pale yellow in the dim lighting. He looked up, and when he smiled his teeth flashed white.

“Etium, it is good to see you. I didn’t expect you till our session tomorrow.”

Etium wandered into the room glancing down at the diagrams on the wall, and the large books on the shelves beside the desk. “Do you want me to leave.”

“No, of course not, take a seat.”

He did and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Etium was quiet for a while, but finally opened his mouth to speak, “I can still smell the ash sometimes, Feel it in my fur when I go to bed. It…. doesn't really bother me most of the time, and I know it’s not real, but it certainly feels that way.”

Dr Adtric leaned on his desk and nodded, “Did you know somatic hallucinations are extremely common In Tesraki.”

He rubbed his fur, “Really?”

“Yes, at least one in twenty report small things. Feelings of items brushing over their fur even when nothing is there. If it starts to bother you, come to me and we will look into helping it. Otherwise just remember the exercises I taught you.”

He shifted in his seat and absently looked at the wall, “So if Somatic hallucinations are common in Tesraki….. Than what about everyone else?”

Dr Adric smiled at him. His expression, both charming and calming at the same time. He had an eir about him that just seemed to make things slow down and relax. It was a nice feeling to have.

“Well both Vrul and Gibb are prone to psychosis with obsessive and grandiosity characteristics. Most Vrul I know could be classified as having some sort of anxiety. Rundi are commonly seen with OCD. Celzex presents with characteristics of Antisocial personality disorder.  Finnari can commonly be seen with dependent personality disorders. Both the Drevb and the Starborn, have a high rate of narcissism. In the case of the starborn, they have a 100% rate at this time…. Though to be fair we only have one starborn”

Etium couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Humans have all of those things I guess, since you have a name for all of them.”

“Yes. Though, I would say that I work most closely with Post Traumatic Stress.”

“Like what I have?”

“Similarly yes, though yours presents differently.”

���That’s what the Admiral’s dog is for? He said she was a PTSD dog.”

“That would be correct.”

Etium leaned back in his seat and stared out the window behind Adric. The man said he presented with listlessness, difficulty concentrating, and emotional detachment. He didn’t have flashbacks or stress associated, which is why he couldn't be entirely diagnosed, bu7t the two of them were pretty sure whatever he had was similar. They had thought about depression on one or two occasions, but he didn’t have trouble getting out of bed, or doing things that he enjoyed. He just got listless and distracted a lot.

Adric thought it might be an entirely different issue from what humans could get, but as of yet, there wasn’t enough research to determine that. They were working on it in their own right now, and he had been feeling a little more present, but he still wasn’t really there yet.

He hoped that soon he would be out of the rut he was stuck in.,

“Have you managed to tell the Admiral, like we had been talking about.”

Etium picked at the fur on his arm, “He seems…. Too busy to talk to me and I…. well I don’t know what it would accomplish.”

“I think it would be good for you to talk to someone who experienced the war.”

Etium sighed, “I didn’t really do much in the war. I sat there and just… was scared. The humans did everything.”

“I think you might find there are humans that feel the same way you do. I encourage you to talk to him. Knowing the man myself, I have no doubt that he will be accepting  of your story.” He held up his hands, “I don’t want to push you, but I do encourage you to let him know.”

I think it would be good for both of you

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear.  The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive. 

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it.  “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

--

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store. 

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios. 

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas. 

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

--

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of  her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window. 

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

--

(read part 3 here)

[tanakavox]

Look into the multiverse chapter 7

DMC3 chapter! And yes I know that Yang came off as being Lady the next chapter but I decided to go Ruby. Reaction written by my friend Doppel Micheal.

The scene starts off with a door getting kicked aparted, and a shirtless Jaune walking out shirtless carrying his sword in one hand and a red jacket in the other.

Jaune gasped at seeing his image shirtless for all to see. "Augh, Cut that out! I don't want people to… uhm…." his voice faded off in embarrasment. "Aaay someone's been working out!" Yang said in a teasing tone, while Weiss sighed in annoyance. "S-shut up Yang. It's not like I'm Sun.."

"Sun does have very nice abs…" Blake whispered at that. "Pfft, you are fine Muscles boy. Isn't he Rubes?" Yang looked to Ruby, trying to get her sister to join in the teasing only to find her little sister seemed lost in thought; she was simply staring at the Jaune on the screen without saying anything. The blonde knight walked closer to her, waving a hand in front of her to try bringing her back to earth. "..." "...Ruby?" "... HUH-? Oh y-yeah. Right, you're f-.. you're alright Jaune." The short reaper was brought back down suddenly, her cheeks taking on a red shade as she seemed to avoid looking at the tall boy in any way.

A pack of demons were outside waiting for him. Jaune turns to look at the broken remains of his shop

"Damnit!" Jaune moaned. You guys totally ruined my shop! And I haven't even named it!" He snarls and turns back to the demons. "Your gotta pay for that." Jaune throws his sword into the air, doing flips and overtop movement before pulling on the red jacket , and catching the sword posing. He sneezes a bit and rubble falls down. Jaune turns and glares at the demons and points Rebellion at all the demons."I hope you all have enough to cover all this!" He growled. The blonde went to town on the demons, Shooting and blasting them to pieces with ease.

"Is this supposed to be the suicidal one's dream world where he's actually important in a fight?" Cinder snarked at the vision in front of her, sending Emerald into a fit of giggles and Mercury to mock them with delight on his voice "Oooh destroyed."

Jaune growled in annoyance. "Hey-!" "HEY!" His attempt at retorting the insult was cut short by Nora. "SHUT UP before I break your second pair of legs. I'm not afraid to do it." She finished with a glare; meanwhile Jaune felt something press on his shoulder, and turned to see Ren, a pleading look on his eyes that said 'Don't let them get to you.'

And after he was done, the bigger ones flew off, the ground splitting in half as a tower arised from the ground. Jaune looks at the tower with a grin.

"It's been nearly a year since we last met. Where does the time go?" Jaune said still grinning knowing Cinder was on top of the tower. He began to walk towards it clearly excited. "No doubt you've got something fun planned for me. Right Cinder?!"

"It's definitely the suicidal one's dream." Cinder expressed while rolling her eyes, making Emerald giggle even more. "Like I would actually care about such a small fly."

Jaune clenched his teeth and fists in frustration, before his lips curved into a smile as he looked at her "At least I actually get to put my sword through your eye this time!" Now Ruby was the one laughing as she saw all of Cinder's smug get wiped out of her, Nora cheering on from behind with yells of "YEAAAAAH tell her!"

"Y-you- if this barrier didn't exist I would tear off your-!" She couldn't finish her reply before being interrupted by Salem. "Cinder. I suggest you calm down and don't let a child get the better of you." With steam nearly coming out of her ears and a death glare sent in Jaune's direction, everyone went back to watching.

The scene cuts to Cinder looking over the town on top of the tower. Raven walked towards her.

"Raven" Cinder greets without looking back.

"Well? Doesn't it excite you? Raven asks. "The Teme-ni-gru has been revived. The great one who once ruled this earth as the medium between the human world and the demon world." Raven smiled a bit. "Isn't it a magnificent view?" The greatest mind of all their time, those who revered evil, construed this glorious edifice. Now, after two millenniums of confinement, it can at last fulfill the purpose for which it was intended…"

"That's none of my concern." Cinder said interrupting Raven. "Did he have it?"

"Of course. He's taking good care of it. After all, it is the last memento left from your mother you both lost.

"But he has no idea of its true power."

"Ewgh, I still can't believe he's related to me in this nonsense."

"The feeling is mutual" Jaune replied to the maiden, his voice full of venom, before noticing Ruby was grabbing his hand in an attempt to comfort him. "It's okay Jaune. It's not real."

"Indeed it isn't Mr Arc." He turned towards Ozpin, speaking for the first time in a while. "Keep your wits about you, none of this is worth losing your mind over."

The demon that escaped Jaune leap onto the Temen-ni gru behind Cinder and Raven. Cinder began to walk off the demon following her. She stopped and unsheathed her kanata, twirling it a bit before sheathing it. The demon upper torso being sliced in half and sliding off before it went poof! The rest of it remains falling off the Temen-ni gru.

The scene cuts to Ruby on a motorcycle, Bumblebee, with the engine still running as she looks over to Temen-ni-gru.

"I found it." She said. Demons began to slowly walk up behind Ruby. She payed them no mind and rev the engine and set the demons on fire with the exhaust port and jump over a pile of demons falling over dead into the number 3.

Ruby stared wide eyed in giddiness at her counterpart, struggling to find her voice "Is that...me?" "-driving MY bike?!" Yang wasn't so amused though.

"I didn't-I'd never! I don't even have a driver's license Yang!" She tried to calm her sister down, making Qrow chuckle at their antics. "She does rock the aesthetic, you gotta give her that." " …. I guess."

Yang crossed her arms, looking the other way while Ruby whispered in excitement. "Ye! I'm cool." Not low enough for Qrow not to hear her though. "Ha! Yeah." Nor Winter. "Indeed."

Weiss couldn't hide the shock from her face at the elder Schnee's response. "Sister?!" "What can I say, I always wanted a bike when I was your age."

The next cut goes back to Jaune walking through a icey area. He's in front of a Icey statue shake, the ice around it falling to ground. A three headed canine chained to a door, stood before Jaune and roared sending a block of ice flying toward Jaune, which he casually cut with rebellion.

"Leave now mortal!" Ceberus growled. "The likes of you are forbidden in this land! You who are powerless are not worthy here!"

Jaune was sweating bullets at the sight "That's…. A big dog…. Z-Zwei doesn't turn into anything like that right Ruby?" "What!? No! Of course she doesn't…. right Weiss?" The reaper gave her partner a hopeful, but questioning look, irritating the heiress. "Why are you looking at me? Like I would ever hurt your dog." She replied indignant, adding one last part as a whisper. "Also he looks much cuter as it is anyways."

"Wow I've never seen a talking mutt before. You know in a dog show, you'd definitely take first place." Jaune says taunting the caine.

"You, a mere human, make a mockery of me?!" Ceberus breathes a beam of ice toward Jaune, which he easily jumps over. The ice blocking the entrance he had came from.

"Easy, Fido! How about I take you for a walk? Jaune bends his knee and starts clapping and whistling. "Come puppy! Let's go!"

"You'll regret this, you worm!"

"It's showtime" Jaune grinned hopping in place and throwing a few punches in the air before gesturing at the oversized mutt. "C'mon!

A short battle happens ending with Jaune cutting off all but one of the heads of the mutt. It leaps back, in awe.

"You are not human,are you?" It asked in awe.

"Who knows? I'm not even sure myself."

"Regardless, you have proved your strength. I acknowledge your ability. Take my soul and go forth. You have my blessing. A bright light fills the area as the demon canine transforms into nunchucks with chucks, Jaune smirks and begins to test out his new weapon, twisting and twirling it around with ease to the point he twirled it with his feet.

"Ha, not bad at all scrawny. You've been going soft on us haven't you?" Jaune felt Qrow punch his shoulder lightly. "Please. Like I would ever pull something like that."

"That remains to be seen Mr Arc." Ozpin spoke yet again. "You have potential yet untapped, perhaps you should play closer attention to what a you from an alternate reality can do."

He didn't like feeling scolded, but gave some thought to what the old man said.

"Too easy." He boasts as he poses with the new weapon. He puts it away and begins to walk off when a motorcycle crashes through the ice behind him, Ruby riding it, Ruby nearly hits Jaune, him jumping out of the way at the last second. He makes eye contact with Ruby as they pass each other midair, both landing at the same time.

"Are you going to the party?" Jaune asks with a smirk. "What's the hurry, didn't you get an invitation? Ruby doesn't turn to look at Jaune and pulls out a bulkier version of Crescent rose firing a rocket at Jaune who casually duck under it and then jumps on riding it around the room, laughing with pure joy before he hops off and let's it blow a hole in the ceiling chuckling a bit.

Ruby couldn't help herself but to stare in obvious excitement and giddiness at the alternate version of her weapon, which brought some amused chuckles from Yang, before crossing her arms and feigning indifference "Hm, my version of my baby is still the best." She completed the act with sticking her tongue out at Yang.

Ruby eyes are finally show and they are filled with cold rage. She revs up her motorcycle and drives towards Jaune and hops over him, the wheel nearly hitting his face as he looks on unflinchingly. She hopped high enough to go through the new hole in the ceiling leaving Jaune alone. "This just keeps getting better and better!" Jaune smirks again as he began to walk to the next area. The scene cuts back to Cinder and Raven again, standing on top of Teme-ni-gru, the time pasting to night.

"Looks like we have an uninvited guest." Cinder states, looking out to the city below.

"Is that so?" Raven replied, flipping through her book.

"A human. A woman." Raven closes her book and sighs.

"I'm afraid I should ask the uninvited guest to leave." She stands and walks toward Cinder. "That is what you want. Actually I happened to be acquainted with that woman." Raven begans to walk off to deal with the woman. "A storm is approaching."

"Can I point out the fact I would never work with that bitch again?" Cinder pointed out with extreme contempt. "Next time I see Raven, I will kill her for what she did."

Qrow chuckled in amusement at her remark. "Because that worked really well last time huh?"

"YOU-" "Is he wrong dear?" Once again, Cinder's attempt at a retort was cut short by Salem, scowling at her protegee. Cinder simply crossed her arms and choose to stare at the floor beneath her feet in frustration. "Tch."

The scene cuts back to Jaune and a door. He gives the door a push and when that doesn't work, he runs up and kicks it. The door still doesn't budge. Jaune snarls and pulls out his pistols getting ready to shoot.

"Yoo hoo!" A voice behind him calls out merrily. Jaune turns to see a woman with pale skin and wearing a blue jester outfit. "There's no need to use violence Devil boy." Jaune ignores her and twirls his pistol getting ready to shoot anyways."Wait wait wait,better listen to what others say lad." The woman rushs in front of Jaune and points to the door with the specter she was holding. "This tower here is very study, you see." She taps the door to prove her point. "Your tricks will do you no good. No good!" Jaune points one of his pistols in her face pushing it to her nose.

"Zip it."He growled. "Or I'll pierce that big nose."

"That could be a problem" The jester moves to Jaune's side. "You've got nothing to lose,right?"

"...is this the Neon of this world?" said Yang.

Jaune never looks her in the eyes, being very annoyed at her. "My name Jester, and I know a thing or two about this place.

"Guess not." Weiss replied. "Sure gives me the same vibes though."

She points over to an object close to the blonde. "That thing there is a power generator for this entire sector. In order to open the door you need to apply a little SOMETHING to it first. You know what that is kid? Or is that too difficult for you?" Jester begins to laugh maniacally when Jaune finally had enough and started to shoot at her feet, She begins to dance crying in fears as she dodges the hail of bullets.

"Get to the point. Or do you wanna keep on dancing?" Jaune asks before stopping. Jester took a deep breath.

"Actually, I prefer a sword to be my partner. May i have this dance my lady?" She asked, taking a bow. Jaune takes out his sword rebellion and attempts to cut Jester in half, the clown dodging at the last second and instead he hits the generator opening the door. "Bingo!" Jester cheered while standing on the ceiling. "That is what something is! Remember that kid. Write down on your hand if you don't trust your head!" Jester began to laugh and started to dance away while Jaune began to shoot at her again.

"I see…. Thanks. Jaune begans walk into the next room. "You still piss me off though."

Everyone stared in silence after the scene ended. Weiss was the first to attempt speaking up "That was…" "It was something alright." Yang concluded after the heiress found herself at a loss for words. Jaune looked down, feeling very self conscious. "I'm not that cool. Kinda wished I could be.."

Again he felt Ruby's hand tug at his, and his eyes rose to meet her showing him a supportive smile. "Hey. You're plenty cool as is." She told him in a soft voice. It was immediattely followed by Nora not so gently punching his shoulder. "Yeah! You coooould stand to get a grenade launcher though." Giggles came out of him, and eventually they all erupted in laughter.

Emerald groaned at the sight. "Do you have to act so sickly happy all the time? It was enough having to put up with seeing him be such a try-hard."

"Meh, it was kinda funny." Mercury shrugged it off with a smirk. "So, what's it gonna be next?"

The end!