#where I suddenly get the urge to go WHY ARE WE EVEN STUDYING THIS TELL ME ABOUT THE PEOPLE'S LIVES

[brown-little-robin]

Sometimes I enjoy my history of rhetoric class, and other times I want to scream WHY DO WE ONLY CARE ABOUT THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE SPEAKING TO THE LARGEST POSSIBLE AUDIENCE?!?!

[unluckilyimnot]

Playing with their hair – aether, kinich, wanderer, rin, sae, sakura

note: i'm just in love with aether and kinich recently and i needed to write something with aether's hair so why not had some of my fav characters along with them. that's probably not really good but i guess it's cute. ooc

m.list | rules

Aether is used to your hands suddenly laying on his hair, running through them when you walk behind him – it’s like an urge, you just have to. You stopped on your track, bowing to kiss his head, inhaling his shampoo a little and hummed at the sweet scent.

“You took my shampoo again,” you mentioned, not in a warning way, more like you appreciate it. He nodded lightly, delighting himself from the feeling of your hands still running through his hair, scratching his scalp a little before kissing it again.

Sensing that you’re about to go away, his hands take yours gently and his head bent down to look up at you. “Already leaving ? We can both take a break…” he said, subtly implying you to not stop yet, making you giggle.

“Sure, we can.”

That’s basically how he ended up sitting on the floor between your thighs, watching a movie while you brush his hair for him, kindly letting your fingers run down his beautifully long hair – trying small, low buns to one high ponytail.

“Having fun ?” You can hear the smile in his voice, amused as always when he let you enjoy his hair more than he does.

“Always.” you said while kissing his nose from above, hiding the tv from his sight for a mere second but he still whines at you for doing so. Such a crybaby.

Kinich sighs as he feels your hands examining his hair again. “Would you stop doing that ?”

He knows you’re not doing this to annoy him, yet it always kind of stresses him to picture you scanning his scalp without any invitation to do so. He also knows that you don’t care about what he says, continuing to play with his hair while you swipe away some dandruff here and there.

“What’s the matter,” you talked back, seemingly frustrated. “You never say anything when it’s to help you fall asleep.” you argued, feeling really satisfied when he doesn’t find anything to say after that. It for sure helps a lot, he can’t argue with that, but he really hoped you could realize that it works all the time and not only when he wants it to – which means he was getting sleepy, slightly closing his eyes while he still had a lot to do.

A satisfied sigh escaped his lips before he could hold it in and you hummed teasingly. Your hands moved from his head to his chest, your arms caging him against you and you laid your head on top of his. “Tired already ?”

“Shut it.” he sounded harsh but he still rested against your chest as well, feeling at peace being so close to you. He wasn’t really tired but if you let him, Kinich would for sure appreciate some quality time with his head in your chest and your hands in his hair. Not that he’ll say it to you.

Wanderer honestly never mind when you ask him if you can play with his hair, he’s usually already busy and not moving so someone touching his hair while studying doesn’t change much for him. He won’t say that it doesn’t make it easy to concentrate since he, sometimes, tends to focus on this more than on the words written in front of him but he still appreciates how peaceful it makes him feel when he’s particularly worried or stressed.

Your hand running through his short strands of hair takes him somewhere else where he doesn’t need to worry as much, he likes it, even if he would never be physically capable of telling you.

“You’re braiding it ?” he asks, half absent in his question – he just wanted to confirm the feeling of your fingers brushing past his cheeks repeatedly. You hummed softly in response, leaving the braid dying the second you let it go since his hair was too short to handle it. It doesn’t discourage you though, and before he can ask what you’ll do next, he can already feel your steady movement back to the same scheme and a soft chuckle left his lips.

“You want me to stop ?” you asked under your breath, probably still concentrated on what you were doing but still caught his sigh.

“No, it’s fine. Go on.” he assured before stepping back again into his study, more than relaxing by this short break.

Rin loves movie dates to his core, but it always gets him when you start touching his hair in the middle of the movie. It's like he's never getting used to it and he's jolting a bit every single time, making you chuckle. But you always kiss his head as an excuse after. 

There's something relaxing when your fingers start to twirl around his short hair, making him wonder who appreciates it the most between you and him. Because he for sure loves it. 

His mind drifts away easily despite himself and how badly he wants to follow the movie. He always finds some way to lean into you, craving for more like a cat and more often than not, he ends up laying on top of you. 

“Don't fall asleep this time Rin,” you joke while scratching his head playfully. He simply nodded, absorbed in the movie more than you gave him credit for. He just didn't want you to stop.

Sae hates it when he feels your hands finding his hair in the middle of the day. He spends quite some time styling his hair in the morning, even if it doesn’t look like it, and you being nearby automatically becomes a danger for that.

Not that he doesn’t like you touching his hair, he’s fond of it, he wishes he could die with you touching his hair, but not during the day. So as soon as he feels it, he immediately gets up and warns you. “Please don’t.”

But he knows it can't be helped and soon your lips meet his, kissing him sweetly – your successful way to distract him – so you can end up with your hands reaching the hair in his neck. Twirling your fingers around it, pulling ever so slightly to annoy him but he still lets you. Not without a sigh against your lips, but he knows damn well he can't hold you back when you're determined to do something. 

He wishes he could keep his hair pretty for the day at least once in a while but he can't blame you ; both of you like it very much. He can forget his image for yet another day if that means he can appreciate the relaxing feint of your fingernails on his scalp. Even if lately it's starting to be everyday, he won't mention it – or not seriously. 

Your smile is more precious than some good hair day. 

Sakura still isn't used to you touching his hair, he hasn't been used to gentle gestures in his life before coming here  –  especially regarding his looks. The second your hands find his hair, he flinches by reflex even if he knows that it’s only you around him. He doesn’t turn you down anymore though since you always let him know how you love his hair, for the color or the fluffiness ; it’s just the best thing in the word and it got to be your boyfriend’s hair. You must be blessed. 

You still try not to frighten him too much, and start by touching his shoulders then going up to his neck and finally the hair in the nape of it. Twirling it lightly with your fingers and you’re sure to catch him snapping his head to you with a blush. 

“What are you doing ?!” he asked as always, flustered but not telling you to stop anyway which made you smile sweetly. 

“I’m playing with your hair ? You want me to stop ?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to act cute and confused so he doesn’t have the heart to tell you no. And with a resigned look but his brows still frowned, he compiled without adding anything.It’s a win, once again. 

You then slowly but surely brush through all his hair, tossing it one side to another, mixing the two colors together then separating it again like a puzzle. That’s something you grew to love, separating his hair for him and that’s also your best excuse to touch it even when there’s people around. Even if he’s not fond of it.

He tends to lay a bit in your hand when you do so, or when you stop your hand in his hair, quietly liking the feeling now that you’ve given him some time. Not that he’ll say it to you, never, but he doesn’t need to for you to know. It’s just like you to notice how he relaxes around you and when you do it. There’s a small smile on your lips when he tries to catch your eyes but looks away instantly, blushing again, and it makes you wonder when he’ll stop blushing around you. 

“You’re cute, Haruka,” you said, brushing away his bang to kiss his forehead. And without a second of hesitation – when in fact yes, but you tried to ignore it –  he was arguing with you about how he is NOT cute, simply proving your point again and again.

Let me know if you like it !

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 4

A/n: So I’m pivoting a little bit with this series. In the last chapter, I had reader with Rhys a lot and I’m fighting the urge to rewrite it, but from here on out it’s going to be a lot more of the inner circle stuff while Rhys and Feyre are doing their own thing. I didn’t like how much  I relied on the dialogue straight from the book for chapter 3 so hopefully this makes it a little better to write and more interesting to read! 

Strap in because a lot happens in this chapter. Also this is mostly unedited because my brain in soup at this point.

Warnings: Cannon level description of violence, blood, brief mention of trauma (Rhys and Readers history with Tamlin), suggestive thoughts/language (as always let me know if I missed anything)

WC:19k

Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1][chapter 2][chapter 3]

NExt chapter [Here]

“I don’t get why I wasn’t invited.” Cassian whined, leaning back in the wide backed chair. I knocked his feet from their place on the coffee table and he stumbled as the legs of the chair touched the ground.

“Because last time you were there you fucked someone’s wife and destroyed their house in your attempt to get away.” 

“In my defense, she didn’t tell me she was married.” He grumbled out, crossing his arms like the petulant child he was. 

“Try telling that to her husband.” I continued to tease him. 

“I did.” 

“Children, children.” Mor chided Cassian and I. A bored wave of her hand causing Cassian to turn his attention to her instead. I smiled widely as the two of them started going back and forth. 

Eventually Rhys and Azriel came to collect Cassian. 

“Sorry, boys night.” My brother said, shooting me a wink when I tried to argue. “Don’t pout at me.”

“They’re just afraid they’d lose their ass if they let us play.” Mor returned, all of the males sputtering out a chorus of protests. 

True to their word, they didn’t let Mor or myself join them. Going as far as to lock the door to Rhys’ study. Their loud shouts could be heard from where Mor and I sat together down the hall. 

Mor was swiping the second layer of a silver and black sparkle nail polish on my hand. 

“Are you nervous about going to summer?” She asked casually. 

“Hardly.” Even I wasn’t convinced by my words. Mor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “Fine. I’m just worried we won’t get the book. We’ve only tested this theory of Feyre’s powers once and that was Rhys’ magic.”

“You think the bond could let her sense it.” I nodded.

“It’s not impossible. Even if she hasn’t accepted it. She could be inherently drawn to things that have ties to him. I just have to hope my brother is right.” I stopped talking to start blowing my nails dry. Shaking them slightly while I did so. Mor turned to her own nails, brushing a blood red polish over them. 

The summer court was just as beautiful as I remember it. I was immediately greeted by the smell of sea salt, even the sunshine smelt different. The humidity in the air laced it with something I could not put my finger on but warmed every part of my body. My skin felt instantly sticky, suddenly very grateful for the flowing white halter dress I had picked for myself that morning. 

Even though it was early in the morning, the city below the palace was already teeming with life. Merchant carrying various baskets full of goods, ships sailing in and out of the docks. The rope bridges swayed slightly in the breeze as people flurried about. 

We had winnowed right in front of the palace. The purple and green sea glass doors opened at our arrival. It had been at least a century since the last time I visited this place, enough time that I was in awe of the scene in front of me. As much as I loved my home Velaris, there was something about the lightness of this palace that called to me. The full walls of sea glass and shells embedded into the floor, covered with some shiny surface that didn’t make it painful to walk on.Light chiffon fabric  in pastel purples, seafoam green, baby pinks, and, buttery yellows adorned the chairs and curtains. The sun that shone through the glass walls tinted with all the colors around us. I was still gawking when Tarquin approached us. The time since he came back had been kind to him. His dark skin more bronzed and his long white hair was  braided and adorned with various shells, he was heart stoppingly handsome.The power of a high lord circled him, but unlike Rhys, it carried a certain warmth to it. An aura of safety and security. I swore the water flowing from the fountains around us bubbled harder at his arrival. 

“Welcome. I see you like the changes I’ve made” He winked at me, eyes still flickering about. 

“I believe you’ve met before, although not since your…promotion.” Tarquin eyed Amren before he gave her a polite bow. Amren bit back a greeting that reminded me of what others saw us as. Cold and calculating. 

“And you two were never formally introduced under the mountain. Feyre, Tarquin.” Tarquin’s face set into a tight line as his eyes swept over the revealing dress Feyre was wearing. Even more see-through with the sunlight in the room. Rhys let out a lewd comment and Feyre returned her own before I  could even think to grimace. 

Another's presence in the room had me looking over Tarquins shoulder. I tried to keep my face even as I spotted Cresseida. The female and I had grown closer than anyone else in the court during my last visit. She shot me a wicked smile before Tarquin introduced her, a claiming hand resting on her shoulder. My eyebrow raised to her and she shrugged her shoulders. A promise of explaining later in her dark brown eyes. Varian was next to be introduced. As captain of Tarquins guard, I did not fault him for the way he sized all of us up, especially Amren. 

Our group followed Tarquin through the hallways of the palace. Rhys and the High Lord making polite small talk. Cressida and I walked in step together. 

The room Tarquin led us to was just as beautiful as the rest of the palace. High ceilings speckled with those same pastel colors, a wide open window showcasing the vibrant water of the sea, so rich in color it appeared almost teal. Feyre gravitated towards the window, like her feet were working on their own. The Summer High Lord approached her side and I tried to keep up with their hushed conversation. Rhys took a seat at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for me to do the same. Rolling my eyes as the others approached, I grabbed Cressida’s arm and led her to a set of couches a bit away from the others. “We’ll leave all the important talk to the high lords and generals.” I said, sinking into that vapid facade I carried when I wasn’t expected to be Rhys’ terrifying counterpart. He gave me a bored look of dismissal. 

“You must tell me everything.” I nearly squealed at Cressida, loud enough for the others to hear. 

“There isn’t much to tell, Tarquin is adjusting to being High Lord quite well. However, suddenly it was…He’s a good change from before.” So not interested in her advances then. Her eyes flickered over to the table where the rest sat. 

“Are you not in contact with Tamlin then, Feyre?” The question was laced with challenge and accusations. The idea that she was in not one but two high lords beds a grave insult. 

“My relationship with the High Lord of spring is none of your concern.” She bit back, the perfect edge of regal and warning in her voice. 

“Good, I’d hate to have to return you to your master.” Even from across the room I saw Amren go deathly still. I gave Cressida a small tap on her shoulder, a playful move that warned her to hold her tongue. She gave me a withering glare as Tarquin reprimanded her for her words. 

She turned back to me, mouth opening to continue our conversation as Rhys spoke. If I hear word that she or anyone else sends news of our being here to Tamlin, your lives will be forfeit. I heard the tone of promise. The air growing deathly still as his words registered to the High Lord.I took a deep sip of my wine as feyre whispered out something that had Tarquin laughing. The room seemed to take a collective sigh at the sound. Tarquin was a good change indeed. Cressida sank back into her chair as she looked me over. 

“You look well.” She said once the conversation in the room resumed. I nodded, setting down my glass on the table beside me.

“Fresh air will do that to a person.” My not so subtle reminder to her that she had not been under the mountain. She gave a small hum. “It seems the court has recovered nicely.”  

It was her turn to grow tense. “It was not without hard work, as I’m sure you can relate to. Having a sudden change in high lord and losing half our population has not made it easy to rebuild, but we’ve managed this far.” She sighed, looking at Tarquin who was now laughing with Rhys. “He has made things easier. Gave my brother and I much more control over the efforts than the previous High lord would have.” I took in her words, the tension in her shoulders and heard the tone of someone who had sacrificed a great deal for her court. Something I very much understood. I felt shame rise in my throat at my earlier comments. She might not have been under the mountain but she, and many others in Prythian, had suffered just as much because of it. I’d imagine it would be impossible to find someone who was not affected. 

“Enough about me though, tell me how’ve you been?” Her tone switched back to one of light gossip. I took a deep sip of my wine as I gave her a half-true recounting of the last few months. 

Cressida walked me back to my room, pointing out things around the palace while doing so. Explaining the bits of work that were still in planning. She gestured to my room and said her goodbyes, promising to find me at the party tonight. 

I let out a heavy sigh as the door closed behind me. I had forgotten how exhausting court politics was. How heavy the role Rhys and I played was. Instead of lingering on that, I quickly changed into my clothes for tonight. A flowy dress that mimicked the fashion of the court but with Night Court colors. Silvers and midnight blues, silver chains fastening the dress around my neck. I left the tiara I would pin in my hair on the edge of my bed as I walked out onto the balcony attached to my room. I stared out at the crashing waves, sitting in the sound that they brought with them. The tide was coming in stronger now that it was mid-afternoon. On the horizon I saw the colorful sails of merchant and travel ships bobbing on the water. I leaned against the railing, letting myself become almost hypnotized by the motion of the water around me. I don’t know how long I stayed staring out at the water but Rhys knocking at my door told me it had been at least a few hours. Rhys walked up to my side, leaning against the railing. 

“It's definitely a nice view.” He says, snapping me out of my trance. I only nod. 

“I wish we didn't have to do this.” 

“Which part?”

“I don’t know all of it. The sneaking and the games. I just wish it could change.” I said, voice barely above a whisper. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. 

“It will be. Once this war is over. That’s what we're fighting for.” He gave a little squeeze before I sighed heavily. 

“I hope that’s how the others see it.” He nodded and I pulled away from his side. Walking back into the room. I picked up my tiara and slid it into my hair. I adjusted my makeup in the mirror on the vanity.  Looking at Rhys I gave a dramatic twirl. 

“How do I look?” He rolled his eyes at the question.

“Every bit the Night Court princess. Now will you please hurry up, we’re already late enough.” I stuck my tongue out at him as we walked out of the room. 

The ship was beautiful. It could fit double the amount of Fae than it was currently holding. Feyre, Rhys and Amren stayed close together while I mingled amongst those who would actually talk to me. Cressida found me at some point in the night, pushing a glass of wine into my hand. I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between her and Mor. Making me wonder just what sat behind her own mask. We got along fine but years of not speaking had made our friendship dissolve. Rhys made his way over to Cressida and I, giving Feyre space to talk to Tarquin. He tried to play the aloof High Lord but I saw the way his eyes kept floating over to Feyre, the way his shoulders stiffened at every smile Tarquin gave her. Cressida must have sensed the tension too because she leaned across the table to reach for my brother's hand, purposefully leaning over to expose her cleavage to him. I tried not to roll my eyes at her attempt to get his attention. 

He gave her a sleepy smile and pointed to the seat next to him. She gave Feyre a lingering glance before she stood up and all but climbed into his lap. I didn’t hold back my eyeroll this time. She shot me a wide grin. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked in a coy voice. 

“By all means, don’t let me stop you. But you should be asking him.” She pouted at my brother who nodded his head, his hand drifting to the small of her back. I downed the rest of my wine before standing up to get more. I had no interest in seeing him lean down to whisper in his ear. I noticed Feyre spared a glance our way, quickly looking back to Tarquin when she spotted Cressida’s new seat. Before I knew it, Feyre was on her feet. Walking away to a less crowded spot on the ship, leaving a very confused looking Tarquin behind her. Taking the opportunity, I joined him at the table. 

“I hope I didn’t upset her.” He joked when I sat down beside him.

“She can be a little…touchy where my brother is concerned. Pay no mind.” I waved my hand to punctuate my words. Tarquin just took a deep sip of his wine. 

We made light conversation, asking each other about our courts and each only giving as much information as was polite. My eyes tracked Rhys movements as Cressida pulled him from his seat and across the deck of the ship. A deep laugh came from the High Lord’s chest. 

“You’re not interested then?” I pointed my hand at the retreating couple, still holding my wine glass,�� Another laugh from Tarquin.

“Mother no, did no one tell you she’s my cousin.” 

“Oh…” He gave me a smirk. 

“And besides,  princess. I am still young and rebuilding my court. All of that,” he waved towards the direction Cressida had pulled my brother, “can wait until after. That doesn’t mean that anyone in my court isn’t free fuck whoever they decide.” I almost shot wine from my nose at how hard I laughed, choosing an inopportune time to take a deep sip from my cup. I sputtered out an  “I’m sorry.” between coughs. He handed me a handkerchief to wipe my mouth. “I truly wasn’t not expecting you to say that. Please don’t think I was laughing at you.” 

“Never.” His voice suddenly became more serious than before. 

“Now what about you? No one has caught your eye?”

“I dare you to try with a brother like mine.” It felt wrong to so crassly talk about Rhys. LIke he was the one stopping me from what I wanted. 

“But there’s someone?” He pried. I shook my head. 

“No one that would see me that way.” It wasn’t a lie by any means. He didn’t have to know exactly why. 

“Do they happen to be blind?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “That would be the only reason I think of for someone not seeing you that way.” I didn’t fake the blush that rose on my cheeks. 

“You flatter me. But no, just… I don’t know.” I said in a tone almost boarding on a whine. He laughed again, a sound I realized I liked. We sat and talked until the sun colored the water a deep purple. I looked out at the view, once again falling into a trance as I stared out at the waves. 

“Shall I walk you back to your room?” Tarquin asked, pulling my eyes back to him. I wanted to say no. But the role I played required I saw yes. So I nodded, letting him guide me by my hand back around the palace. I was nervous as we approached my door, not knowing fully what he expected out of me. Especially not knowing exactly where Cressida had pulled Rhys to. I felt panic starting to rise in my throat until he cleared his throat. 

We were outside my door and the panic I felt must have been written across my face. 

“Don’t look so disappointed. But I was not walking you back for that.” I felt my shoulders relax and a blush settle on the tips of my ears. 

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t be. I like my partners more than willing.Enthusiastic if you will.” I laughed, which made him laugh in return.

“Good night.” I whispered to him

“Good night.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned and walked off down the hallway. 

I had nothing to do until Feyre went to look for the book. And I truly had no desire to sit and gossip with Cressida after the heated looks she had been giving my brother. So I simply stayed in my room, listening to the sounds of the ocean. I tried to think of how much the rest of my family would love it here. How much they had loved it here. I lightly chuckled to myself as I remember Cassian's face as Mor winnowed him out of the court last time we had visited. It took days of debate and many apologies before the previous High Lord rescinded the blood ruby he threatened to send after Cassian.  Mor looked absolutely gorgeous with some sun on her skin, although Azriel held onto it longer much to her chagrin. I curled my knees up to my chest at the thought of Azriel. It felt almost selfish for how little I had thought about him since I’d been here. Regardless of the fact that I had no reason to feel bad, a small twinge of shame pushed its way through me. A hand rising to the center of my chest to massage the discomfort away. 

Rhys didn't come to collect me until dinner. He was curt as he announced that the rest were waiting for me, not waiting for my reply before he was leaving the room again. I rushed after to catch up with him. Feyre must have done her job well if my brother was wound this tight. 

“Anything on your mind, brother?” I asked in a sweet voice, purposefully teasing him.

“Don’t you start with me too.” So Feyre must have already talked to him. Good. Maybe he’ll finally use this to tell the poor girl. “Stop trying to meddle.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I just want to get this damned book and go back home.”

“I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Rhys.” I patted him on the back and nearly started running down the hall, suddenly very hungry. 

The days passed by slowly. As Rhys’ advisor, I was now expected to attend the various meetings Rhys had with the summer courts own advisors. I wished we could have left Amren out of these meetings, but as his second, she attended every one of them. Her presence set the others on edge, making any and all discussions freeze at random moments because she so much as shifted her body weight. 

It wasn’t until dinner the night after that Feyre almost gave herself away. One too many questions asked about the little temple in the middle of the tide. Tarquin brushed off her questions with ease but I saw the way his eyes lingered on her longer than normal, like he was sizing her up for the first time. If I blinked I would have missed it, that slight fog in his eyes. A fog that only appeared for a moment before sea green eyes were revealed once again. I shot my eyes to Rhys who shook his head. Not him then. Meaning Feyre must have been able to do that. I was both very impressed and oh so horrified. 

“I can carry you both and then keep watch” Rhys layed out the plan. Amren looked over to me. 

“And her?”

“Someone has to keep the High Lord distracted.” I grinned at her

“What a hard job to do.” She bit back at me, baring her teeth at me. I fought back the urge to do the same. 

“It’s a necessary job. Unless you want to risk Tarquin sniffing us out.” She didn’t have a response for him. “Good. Do you think you can do it?” He turned to face me and I nodded. From there we planned the rest of the details. 

The day dragged by. Tarquin, by Feyre’s suggestion, had taken her to the mainland to show her the rest of the court. That left Amren, Rhys and myself free to make some final conversation with the court advisors. Simple things like trade and training of soldiers felt wrong to discuss with a greater war on the horizon, felt too mundane. 

Evening came around eventually. Tarquin all but deposited Feyre into Rhys’ outstretched arms. He gave her a salacious smile that I wasn’t sure was entirely fake. But gave the right impression of just exactly why I was so eager to leave the palace. 

Tarquin and I walked through the city where he took me to a small bistro. The staff all smiled at him as we approached the open air restaurant. It was quaint, reminding me of something you would find in Velaris. The casual exchange between the owner and Tarquin felt very familiar. I smiled at the couple as they personally sat Tarquin and I. The restaurant had no menu, instead the meal was based on whatever the ships brought in that day and the catch of the day seemed to be crab. They brought out steaming plates and I could only stare at it. 

“I must admit, I’ve never tried crab before.” I picked up one of the legs in front of me, taking note of the hard shell. Tarquin smiled at me. 

“Apologies, I didn’t consider that.” He gestured for the piece I was holding and I handed it over to him. “You have to crack this open” A simple twist of his hands and the shell popped loudly. “And then you can pull out the meat.” Picking up a tiny fork, he pulled the entirety of the meat out in a clean piece. I gave him a small clap. He laughed and handed me another piece. 

“You try.” I earned my own clap from him as I copied his motions. It took me a few tries to scoop everything out but I got there in the end. 

“I’lll just have to practice more.” I winked at him and he gave me a soft smile. 

“If it gives you an excuse to come back here, be my guest.” I let the comment float between us. We ate until he had to wave off the shop owners. A small argument between the three of them as they tried to insist he didn’t need to pay. Tarquin dropped a bag of gold on the table when their backs were turned and all but pushed me out of the restaurant before they could notice. The action was so unlike any other high lord I had seen that I couldn’t help the giggle that left me. 

He had grabbed my hand in his sometime during our walk back through the city. Not paying attention to the way I led him to the stretch of beach on the other side of the palace, on the opposite side of where Feyre and Amren were currently trying to grab the book from. The only sound between us was the crashing waves. 

“Sunlight looks good on you.” Tarquin winked at me as we walked down the beach. Breaking the comfortable silence.  The red that tinted my cheeks had nothing to do with the fleeting sunlight. 

“I’m afraid I might become the same color of that crab if I stayed too long,” I joked back.

“You’d adjust… If you ever wanted to, that is.” His tone was light but I could sense the truth behind those words. 

“You’d do well to remember not to be fooled by a pretty face.” I returned with that same tone. He shook his head. 

“I was under the mountain too. Everyone heard the way you would stand up to her. The way you suffered so others wouldn’t.” His words startled me. I never acted that way to get attention. I told him as much. “And that’s why I know you’re more than a pretty face. You did all of it without thinking. Regardless of what you might show others, I know you and your brother are good people. The people that refuse to see that are fools” 

I didn’t respond. Unable to find the right words. I kept walking, slower than before. The sound of waves crashed over my ears. The white noise comforting. Tarquin was not a bad looking male by a long shot. Even under the mountain he was gorgeous. But even thinking of it, however fleetingly, felt wrong. Some deep part in my chest hurt as I thought of how easy it would be to fall in love with him. My hand drifted subconsciously to rub that sharp sting away. 

“You’re kind too. I see it in the way you interact with your people. Very few high lords care about lesser fae, let alone enough to remember their names.” It was his turn to blush, the skin on his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. 

“I want to be better than those before me. I see no reason to make my people suffer because they weren't lucky enough to be high born.”

“I wouldn’t call it lucky.” I muttered mostly to myself. 

“Neither would I. But to them, to the people that only get to watch…”

“It all does seem rather glamorous. Just another mask to put on.” I bit my tongue, cursing myself for saying too much. To my surprise, Tarquin only nodded along. 

“Better to let them think it’s all parties and banquets. It means we’re doing our jobs well enough.” Once again, silence blanketed itself over us. Both of us were aware that our conversation had drifted to something too real. As I looked out at the ocean and saw the tide starting to swell again, I felt disgust ebb through me. I hoped Feyre had made it out by now. That she had gotten the book. We would be leaving tomorrow regardless. Tarquin must have noticed the look on my face, the pensive far-off look. 

“Are you sad to be leaving?” Luckily he had misread my emotions. I nodded, not entirely lying to him.

“Your home is beautiful and it’s nice to be given a break from Hewn city. Sometimes when I wake it, it’s hard not to think I’m still…with her.” He grabbed my hand in his as I spoke. As I looked into his sea green eyes, I had never felt more disgusted with myself. He was kind and trusting and so naive. It felt too easy. Any other high lord, one that had been around longer, would have never let my brother or Feyre out of their sight. Pretty face or not. But the High Lord in front of me didn’t hold an ounce of suspicion for my court. Had told Feyre that much during their trip earlier in the week. It made my stomach twist. 

“She left our mark on all of us, it’s our job to make sure someone like her can never have that chance again.” My throat felt tight and I couldn't speak. He was a good male without a doubt. I only hoped he would forgive us for what we had to do, and would be willing to hear us out after all is said and done.  

AS if the mother herself sensed my words, an alarm rang from within the castle. Tarquin jumped, pulling his hand from mine as a  figure appeared next to us. I hoped the sigh of relief wasn’t too loud as I saw Rhys. It’s done. We need to go now. Tarquin’s head was whipping back and forth between his palace and my brother. I knew I would never be able to forget the look of pure disbelief in his eyes as the pieces clicked into place. 

“I’m so sorry.” I took a step towards him as Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist and the moonlit water of the summer court disappeared around me. 

My knees gave out as soon as I felt the ground return underneath me. Azriel was at my side instantly, hands quick to wipe the silent tears off of my face. I pushed myself away from him. So disgusted with myself I could hardly breathe. My brother paid no attention to me, instead turning his focus to Feyre. I let out a mix between a sob and a laugh as I saw her pull out the book. Azriel just pulled me back against his chest. And my treacherous body relaxed in his hold. That familiar smell of nighttime and pine and something so Azriel that I couldn’t help but calm down. I clung to him tighter as Feyre struggled to open the book. Scared that this had all been for nothing. Then the sick voice echoed through the room. A language I couldn’t quite make out but chilled me to my very core. Like the book had been made of nightmares themselves. Even Azriel tensed beside me, wings flaring before I felt them wrap around me. The voice burrowed into my brain sending a fresh wave of tears down my face. Then, just as sudden as it had started it stopped. Feyre held the now opened box in her lap, refusing to look into it. 

Amren finally looked and pulled away, swearing. She looked…scared. It was a look so out of place on her face that I almost couldn’t clock it. But as she looked back at the book I recognized the pure terror flickering behind those quick silver eyes and I wondered out loud what exactly we had gotten ourselves into. 

I didn’t stay to discuss the events at the summer court with the rest of my family. As it was, Azriel had to all but carry me to my room. Maybe I was being dramatic but the last few days mixed with that look from Tarquin had worn heavily on me. Waves of guilt kept roaring through me. Enough so that I simply let Azriel place me onto my bed, feeling too disgusted with myself to be in his presence any longer. He only pressed a light kiss to my forehead before he pulled the curtains shut and left my room. 

Azriel didn’t return until later the next day. When I finally was able to look him in the eyes I saw nothing but concern in those hazel eyes. Concern I didn’t deserve or want. 

“Talk to me.” He pleaded. I shook my head, a small sniffle the only sound I made. Willing the tears away. I didn’t even deserve to be crying for myself. He sighed heavily and pulled me into his lap. I was so upset that I didn’t even consider the intimate hold. I just curled up tighter into myself and let him rock me back and forth. 

“I’m a horrible person.” I sobbed into his chest, unable to hold back the tears. 

“Rhys told me everything. You’re not. They don’t know it yet but this could save us all.” I didn’t let his words comfort me. 

“He’s so kind. It sickens me to think that I might be the reason he stops being kind.” My voice broke. The admission was unbearable. 

“He’ll deal with it.” I sniffled one more time before I started to calm down. 

Tarquin did in fact deal with it. In the form of four blood red rubies delivered to Hewn City that morning. I swore when Rhys placed it on my bed. “Azriel’s already sweeping the border, so if you decided to have a melt down on me again, you’ll be waiting for a while for someone to comfort you.” Half a tease and half a plea for me to keep it together. I tossed the ruby to the floor, letting it roll under my bed. 

“You really know how to comfort a female, Rhys. It’s a miracle we aren’t having to peel Feyre off of you, truly.” I spit at him. 

“Be angry at me all you want, but get your shit together. You’ve, we’ve, done far worse things.”

“To people that deserved it.” I whispered back. And that was the root of it all. The way we had done unspeakable things to people in the past had never bothered me, because they would have done the same if they got the chance. But sweet, naive Tarquin…

“He’ll understand in time.” Was all he offered, and I saw red tinge the edge of my vision. 

“But at what cost? He’s a good ally to have if we come down to war and we very well might have pushed him into Hyberns hands.”

“If it takes a simple theft for him to go to Hybern then he was never truly an ally.” I wanted to slap the cock-sure look off of my brother's face. 

“Send in Azriel when he gets back.” Dismissal clear in my tone. Rhys looked at me, but I turned away from him. He said my name softly. 

“Get.Out.” I gritted out, picking up a pillow to throw at him but when I turned around he was already gone. 

Azriel did come to my room later in the day, but only long enough to bring me food and say goodbye. He was doing more patrols, checking  his network of spies for any word that Summer might be preparing to send soldiers to our doors. He left before I could say anything to him, only leaving a single shadow behind. It stayed near my bed until I ate the food Azriel had brought for me. Then, and only then, did the shadow retreat to the corner of my room, making me feel a little less alone as I drifted off to sleep. 

It took days for me to finally come out of my room. Nothing compared to the weeks of waiting for the queens to reply to our request. Rhys didn’t have to inform me I would not be coming to the meeting and I didn't have it in me to argue with his decision. He would keep an open line to me from the human lands and I would be able to add my two cents if it was needed. But after my reaction to Tarquin, wwe couldn’t risk another break down on my end. As much as everyone understood where I was coming from, they knew the role I played weighed heavily on me and if I was to attend the meeting I would need to play my part perfectly. A part I didn’t want to play at the moment. That would leave me with Amren, the ancient fae had not let the book out of her sight since it had been given to her. Rhys and I were the only others who had an inkling of how to translate the equally as ancient language, but it took me far more concentration than it took her. 

She didn’t seem to care because no sooner had my family left before she was hauling the book onto the table in my office. The map had been moved to a larger table so she sprawled out sheets of paper with random sentences scribbled onto them, like she was translating faster than she could write them down. I stared at the pages until my eyes began to blur over. Amren shot me a dirty look when I pushed away from the table rubbing my eyes. 

“Weak.” She muttered to herself and I didn’t dignify her taunt with a reply. I had nothing to prove to her, and she very well might be right. I didn’t have the same pull to war like she did, planning it was hard enough. Despite how naturally it came to me, I despised the scheming and backstabbing that usually accompanied it. I didn’t spare her a glance as I walked out of the room, leaving her to her own devices to try to make sense of the pages of the book. 

It was around dinner time when everyone appeared in the front room of the house. I could feel the tension radiating off of Rhys and I wondered why he hadn’t tried to contact me. Until I followed him into his office and he spun around, looking like he was ready to attack me. 

“They want proof that we’re not the court the rumors suggest. They want to see behind the mask.” He spit out, hands lacing into his hair looking like he might pull it from his roots. 

“What are you going to do?” I asked him softly. Taking very slow steps towards him. He growled before he pushed the contents of his desk to the ground. He stood, chest heaving rapidly as he just stared at the floor. 

“I’m going  to show it to them. For the first time since its creation, I’m going to show someone Velaris.” He sunk into his chair, like his legs would no longer support him. I sensed Cassian and Azriel behind me then. I shot them a look that told them to get out and they left as quickly as they had entered. I walked over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him. The sob he let out shook me to my very core and I could only hold him tighter. NO words of encouragement found their way from my throat. 

“I’m sorry for judging you so much over the last weeks.” He said once the sobs had stopped echoing around the room. 

“You were only trying to-”

“I was only being selfish. You made a hard choice and look at me the moment I’m presented with one.” 

“You’re allowed to feel things, Rhys.” A conversation we had had far too many times. He shook his head against my shoulder.

“Not if this is what it does to me. Not if it puts my family in danger.” He sounded so broken and exhausted. 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” My words only made him start sobbing again. And I just held him, not trusting myself to speak as he cried himself out. 

We didn’t speak of the events in his office, that singular moment of weakness from my brother and the others knew better than to ask. The withering glare I had shot Amren when she even attempted to pry served as warning to leave it be. They let it be as the focus quickly turned to the trip to Hewn city. The Veritas orb would be the only way the queens would ever truly believe us. 

So we all prepared. Dressing in finery like it was no different than our fighting leathers. Because in that wretched court they were synonymous. Lipstick akin to war paint and a lethal smile more than just an expression.

I dug in the back of my closet for the ballgowns I reserved only for these occasions. The one I chose for tonight was made of a fabric so black it looked purple. Cut outs at my waist and a neckline that nearly dipped to my navel. Twin slits up the legs that closed right under my hip bone. I left my hair down as I usually did, pinning it to one side of my head. Slipping in my crown I didn’t give myself another glance in the mirror. 

The dress left no room for weapons anywhere on my body but Azriel would be by my side as we searched for the orb. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to even think of using the polished blade that sat on his hip. 

Mor and I arrived first. Winnowing ahead of the others to announce our arrival. There weren't many preparations to be made, the court never one to stop partying. Only stopping enough to sleep or the occasional formal dinner. So Mor and I waited. And waited. Kier grew ever impatient at the lack of my brother's appearance. 

“He’s your high lord, he can come and go whenever he pleases.” My voice the perfect picture of an ice cold princess. Stuck up and full of mirth. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes of course, I just wish to go back to my own festivities instead of waiting for him to grace us with his presence.” 

“You will wait as long as he sees fit.” I bared my teeth at him and all he did was give me a wicked smile. I fought to keep my face even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling me. 

Mor was shifting from foot to foot. Looking at her, you would think she was bored, but her tight grip on her arms was the only indication about how uncomfortable she was. Standing in the same room as her father. Neither of them so much as looked at the other. 

“Why don’t you go check on the others. Make sure they remembered we were coming.” I said to Mor, giving her an excuse to leave if only for a few minutes. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a tight nod in appreciation. When she arrived, her face was grim before that mask of indifference snapped back into place. I would have to ask her about it later. 

I almost sighed in relief when I saw my brother, Feyre in tow behind him, walk through the heavy obsidian doors. Kier had already gone back to the main room, my threatening promise of collecting him when my brother appeared. 

“Wait for the others.” Rhys said to me as he brushed by me, steps not faltering as he walked into the throne room. So I waited for Cassian and Azriel. They arrived a few minutes after Rhys had left the room. 

“What happened?” I hissed at them, seeing their glowing siphons. 

“Ambush. We’ll tell you more later.” Azriel said in a clipped voice, shadows whipping around his feet. Clearly agitated. I nodded. 

“You better.” I answered before we all fell into our positions. Azriel on my right and Cassian on my left, me a few paces in front of them. The three of us walked into the throne room. If it wasn’t already silent, the sheer presence of the three of us would have quieted it. As it was, eyes tracked our every move, people all but jumping out of the way of the three of us. Gone were the playful smiles and casual words. Here I was more than just darkness, if Rhys night incarnate and I was something different entirely. The absence of anything, a void. Everyone here had witnessed first hand my powers. The smoke that could incapacitate everyone standing before me, when I had my full powers. Then there was Azriel and Cassian, the wicked spymaster and the bloodthirsty general. 

A path was cleared for us up to the dias where Rhys was standing. Azriel and Cassian knelt at the foot of the marble steps. I joined my brother on the opposite side as Feyre. A feline smile gracing my features as I looked at the kneeling figures of the court. 

“How lovely of you to finally join us.” 

“Call it fashionably late.” Rhys chuckled darkly at my response. With that he walked over to his throne. Pulling Feyre onto his lap. I walked a few paces to stand beside him, my usual position as his sister. I was not expected to kneel for him, instead presenting a unified front. The terrifying high lord and his equally powerful sister. 

I tried to ignore the way Rhys ran his hands all over Feyre. She had already been warned of the role she would have to play while visiting this court. A role she accepted. I admired how bravely she was taking it all. He leaned in to whisper something I tried to tune out. The court is still kneeling, bodies shifting with the strain of the position. As if remembering that they were even there. “Go play.” Was the only acknowledgement he gave them. Dismissing them like they weren’t worth his time anymore. The music began after a few moments. People scramble to do something to distract themselves. 

I walked over to the two warriors as Rhys summoned Kier from his spot near the dias. I fought the urge to hiss at him as he walked by me. I let a small flicker of smoke leak from my hands instead, a threat. He snarled at me and I only let out a low laugh. 

Azriel was already waiting for me. Ready to surround us in darkness to retrieve the orb. We hung by the edge of the room for a little longer, slipping out seamlessly. 

I led the way down the twisting hallways to the vaults that lay hidden underneath Kier’s bedchambers. Azriel needed someone from our bloodline to get in that room, the wards being keyed to our family. We didn’t run into any guards on the way, the wards making it unnecessary.

We entered the cavernous room and began searching. Azriel sent his shadows off through the various tunnels to search ahead of us. We searched through room after room. Silently cursing my extended family for the sheer amount of things they held onto. Jewels and ancient tomes. Records of every dealing of the court of nightmares. I rolled my eyes at the absurd opulence of it all. Azriel’s shadows whipped back to him, wrapping around his shoulders. No doubt whispering of the orbs wearabouts. He grabbed my hand in his as the shadows slunk back to their previous location. The orb was sitting high on a shelf. Out or reach if it wasn’t for Azriel’s wings. He quickly scooped it up and placed it in a bag hidden underneath his leathers. 

We started the walk back to the throne room. The sound of footsteps alerting us of someone else's, several someones, presence. Without thinking, I pulled Azriel’s face close to mine. Bringing a hand up to his face. His hand went to wrap around my waist at the quick movement. 

“Play along.” I whispered to him. I gave a quiet sultry laugh and the footsteps stopped mere feet from us. I jumped back like they had surprised me. Peeling myself off of Azriel. I stepped away, forcing an embarrassed look onto my face. 

The two males only stared at Azriel and I. Taking note of the secluded spot, the space I had abruptly put between us. Predatory smiles graced their faces. 

“Don’t let us ruin your fun.” One said.

“Unless you would rather us join.” The other added. From the lilt of their voices, I could tell they were drunk. Too drunk to realize exactly who they were speaking to like that. I only made a disgusted sound, pulling Azriel behind me as the sound of their laughter echoed through the hallway behind us. 

Azriel and I blended seamlessly into the dancing crowd. The music was slightly more refined than earlier. He didn’t say anything to me as I pulled his hand into mine and put his other hand on my waist. He slowly let his shoulders relax, leaning into me and his footing became more sure. 

It didn’t take long for me to forget why we were doing this, that we had nearly been caught despite his shadows. As I danced with him, I forgot anything but us existed.

The music flowed through me making me feel light as he spun me around the dance floor. I didn’t care about the eyes tracking us across the room. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on my exposed waist. He whispered a joke at something his shadows must have picked up and I threw my head back with laughter. Truthfully I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good. My mind fully focused on Azriel. 

I prayed to the mother he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that had risen along my skin against his touch. 

He dipped me low and I felt my breath stop. His face an inch from mine. It would be so easy to close that distance and feel his lips against mine. Every part of my brain was screaming at me to do it. His shadows raced around us like they could hear my thoughts. My traitorous body locked up when all I wanted to do was pull him to me. He took in the tension in my body and started to pull away. Panicking at the thought of losing his body heat against mine, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him back down to me, right as he started to stand me up. I bit back a moan as I felt the plush of his lips collide with mine. 

It was clumsy and rushed but I sucked down breaths full of him, hand still locked on his neck. His hands tightened their hold against me and he groaned my name before he pushed me away. 

“I’m sorry. I…” all the joy had leached out of me as I took in his face. He looked disgusted and before I could say anything else he was weaving through the crowd, leaving me alone on the dance floor. 

My mind was reeling. Lips still tingling in the aftermath. I had dreamed of that kiss for centuries but never could have predicted his reaction. The tears were streaking down my face before I quickly wiped them away, pushing my way through moving bodies. I needed to get out of this room, get out of this stupid dress that had suddenly become too tight to breathe. 

Before I could rip it off in the middle of the throne room, Rhys caught my elbow and was pulling me down to a quiet hallway. I haven't even realized he had left his throne. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” I couldn’t answer with anything other than a sob. He took me into his arms and my skin crawled at the contact. I shrugged out of his hold and could only get out one word. “Mor.” I said her name like the lifeline it was. I saw the conflict in Rhys’ eyes. The need to make me feel better and not leave me alone. But as another sob passed my lips he was all but running away to grab the female I had requested. 

I was hiccuping between sobs by the time Mor arrived. Rhys nowhere in sight, probably returning back to that cruel High Lord facade. I don’t think I could have gotten the words out of what had happened if he was still standing beside me. I choked out the words to her. Recounting what happened and Azriel’s less than enthusiastic reaction. Mor was well aware of my feelings and her eyes shone with sympathy. She held me as I cried it out, tears soaking the fabric on her shoulder. Her hold on me helped to ground me and eventually my tears calmed. I gave her the tightest squeeze I could manage and she held me at arms length, examining my face. Her thumbs came up to wipe under my eyes, coming away with streaks of my makeup sticking to them. My own hands brushed along my face and a sigh of relief followed as I noticed my makeup hadn't smudged too much. No one would be able to know the mess a single kiss had just reduced me to. 

Taking Mors outstretched hand, she pulled me back into the main ballroom, music filling my ears again. The tempo had picked up more turning into something I might hear at Rita’s and definitely something you couldn’t waltz to. Couples had retreated to the sides as the dance floor became a breathing pulse instead of the graceful swell of movement it had been earlier. The pairs that had remained grinding against each other. Mor snagged two flukes of champagne as she pulled us deeper into the dance floor. I knocked mine back as quickly as I could and resolved to block out all the thoughts that were racing around in my head. So I danced with Mor until my brow was covered in sweat, my skin glistening at the rising temperature of the entire room. We ignored all the disgruntled looks aimed our way. Not caring if they heard our laughter for once. 

We both laughed as we found our way to the edge of the crowd again, grabbing more champagne. We both hung back catching our breath together and I let out a heavy sigh as I emptied the glass. I spotted the shadows from across the room and all but slammed the glass onto the table behind me. 

“I’m leaving.” Was all I said to Mor as I stalked away. She didn’t try to stop me, only grabbed my arm to winnow me back to Velaris. She didn’t linger. Returning just as swiftly as we had arrived. 

I just made it back to my room before the tears started anew. Ripping the pins out of my hair and peeling the beautiful dress off my shaking frame, I didn’t make it to my bed before I sunk down to my feet. Pulling my knees close to my chest I let the tears come. 

He was allowed to not return my feelings but in those moments on the dance floor that kiss had felt so real. The way I effortlessly fit against him or the laughter that flowed freely from me. It all felt so right and to see that look on his face. It broke some part of me I had been holding onto for so long now. That small dream that he could for some reason ever return my sentiments. That he would ever see me as anything as Rhys’ sister. 

I eventually was able to pull myself into bed and curl myself into a ball. Tears lulling me off to sleep. I must have dreamt that night because I swore I felt those familiar shadows glide over my skin but by the time I opened my eyes they were gone. 

I managed to pull myself out of bed the next morning. Pushing the stinging rejection to some deep part of me. There’s a war at our doorsteps and you’re crying over a kiss. I reminded myself to stop being so pathetic as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I was the last to arrive apparently. 

“You disappeared rather quickly last night.” Cassian said to me, tone teasing but laced with questions. 

“We got the orb, and I no longer wanted to be there.” I shrugged. Pointedly ignoring the gaze of the shadowslinger I could feel burning a hole in the side of my head. I didn’t talk to him all morning, suddenly finding someone calling my name when he tried to speak to me. It was childish, sure, but I didn’t have it in me to discuss it without breaking down in front of him. As it was, I could barely make eye contact with him. My lips tingled every time I look at him. A feeling that I imagine must be similar to being struck by lighting erupted over my skin. I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Lucky for me, Rhys had called me into his study to go over the events of last night. What that would mean for our upcoming trip to the queens.

I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice that Rhys had stopped talking. 

“What happened to you last night?” Rhys asked in a soft voice. I shook my head. If I started talking about it I wouldn’t be able to stop. Rhys would know everything.

“Weren’t you just the one telling me you don’t have to do this by yourself. Gods just let me help you.” 

“You can’t fix this, Rhys.”

“Why not?”

“Azriel kissed me.” He tensed at my rushed words. 

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was cold as death. I shook my head.

“Not the way you mean.” He tapped his hand impatiently against his desk, waiting for more of an explanation. So I sighed and told him everything. 

“How long have you been in love with him?” He asked when I finally finished my story. 

“I’m not-” His pointed stare made me wither. “Only a few years after you became high lord.” I admitted. He had the audacity to laugh. 

“Cassian and I called it.” I gaped at him.

“Not out loud or anything but we always assumed.” 

“That’s all you have to say about this?”

“You’re an adult. He’s an adult.” 

“So you have no idea why he reacted that way.” He looked sheepish at my question. Hands going to pick at an invisible piece of lint. “Rhysand.” He flinched as I said his full name. 

“No. I have no idea.” He threw his hands up in the air before he said “Have you tried, I don’t know, talking to him yourself?”

It was my turn to look sheepish. 

“That explains why you’ve been avoiding him all morning then.” A smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“And I’m sure you were whispering all about the mating bond in Feyre’s ear last night?” I returned. 

“Touche.” 

“Who would have guessed, the two scariest fae in all of Pyrthian and we run with our tails between our legs at the thought of a romantic relationship.” 

“Pathetic truly.”

“If only they could see us now.” I joked back. 

I felt better after my talk with Rhys, lighter even. It was nice to have him know even if it meant I would have to endure his teasing at times. Azriel said nothing about my change in mood as I finally acknowledged him, Rhys making a lewd gesture behind the spymaster. I fought to keep my laugh down. Azriel looked behind his shoulder to find a perfectly still Rhys, his head turned back to me and then to Rhys again, like he might catch him if he moved fast enough. 

“We should-” He started before I held up a hand.

“Not necessary. I got the message loud and clear.” He deflated ever so slightly at my words and didn’t say anything else. So I carried on about my day as usual, until it was time to get dressed for tonight.

The gown I wore tonight was vastly different from the one I wore to Hewn city. This was a silver, tiered dress. Ruffles formed to look like butterfly wings and encrusted with gems on the edges. The neckline was far more modest than my other dress, swooping gently right under my collar bone. I couldn’t help but twirl in the mirror. Giggling at the rainbows the clear gems threw across the ceiling. It truly was a gorgeous dress. One I had custom made from one of the shops in Velaris. 

I didn’t wait for any of the others to join me. I had gotten ready at the house of wind so I could join the festivities the moment I was ready. Too excited to waste one minute with Mor fussing about her hair. I stood on the balcony, eyes already searching for those little flickers of starlight. 

“You look beautiful.” A voice behind me said, making me jump. I haven't heard Azriel approaching behind me. He stood beside me by the railing, leaning on his elbows. It was peaceful, standing next to him with the wind brushing against my skin. The events from last night eddying out of my mind with him so close to me. 

“I missed this.” I nearly whispered to him. Looking out at the lights of the city I loved. Hearing the laughs and joyous shouts of everyone above us. It was all too much and not enough, the thought of it bringing happy tears to my eyes. Tears that I felt scared hands wipe away before I could. “I’m sorry. I just… I never thought I would see this again.” His eyes filled with a deep sadness. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, Mor called my name. Rushing over she put a glass of champagne in my hand, pulling me upstairs with the other. Azriel trailed behind us. 

I looked over my shoulder and gave him a soft smile that he returned. Cassian was waiting for all of us, talking to some pretty female that was batting her eyelashes at him. He didn’t give her a second glance when he spotted us approaching, the female calling his name as he retreated from her side. I could have laughed at the look she gave all of us but I didn’t have time to think about it as Cassian swept me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Look at you all dolled up, princess.” Cassian said as he held me at arms length. 

“Couldn’t have you upstage me” I winked at him which only made him throw his head back with laughter. I joined in and felt a weight uncurl from my shoulders. 

“Come on.” Mor said as the music started to pick up. The telltale sign that the best part was just ahead. My eyes searched the crowd for my brother. I wanted to share this moment with him. I caught the outline of wings on the balcony above us. Tucked away enough that I really had to search for him. I saw the sparkle of Feyre’s dress and a warm smile plastered itself to my face. His arm was wrapped around her waist. I looked away, giving them their privacy. 

No sooner had I looked back to the sky did I see the faint trails of light beginning to fill it. First one, then a few more, then the sky was full of the brightly colored trails. Bits of stardust landed in the river below us, covering the surface with their glittering color. Mor grabbed my hand, pulling me into a uneleagant dance. Cassian and Azriel joined in a few moments later. The four of us not caring about the moves we made, simply soaking up each other's company. Azriel wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side and I felt my heart skip a beat. Mind instantly going back to our dance at the court of nightmares. He shot me an almost apologetic smile that told me he was thinking the same thing. I shrugged at him. Nothing to apologize for. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Simple as that. It didn’t have to mean anything, nothing more than the heat of the moment decision. As much as it hadn’t been that for me, as much as it stung to know that’s all he saw it as.

 Shaking the thoughts away, I grabbed his arm and swayed gently to the beat. Cassian and Mor devolved into a dance that was more jumping than dancing. They wrapped their arms around each other howling with laughter. 

I felt the glittering substance hit my arm. Looking down to inspect it, I noticed Azriel’s wings sporting their own splatters. It took every ounce of brain power I possessed not to reach up and brush it off of those beautiful wings. Instead I dipped a finger through the dust on my arm and wiped a streak over Azriel’s cheek. He stared at me in disbelief before a booming laugh left him. The sound warmed my heart. He laughed like this so rarely, truly carefree. It seemed so natural to lean in and rest my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me as we just stood in each other's embrace. I tilted my head up so  I could see his hazel eyes already looking down at me.

“Azriel I…”

He let me go when Mor cried out my name, cutting off my words.

“You’re not nearly drunk enough.” She said pulling my arm to the table holding the full glasses. I turned to look at Azriel but he seemed to have disappeared already. His shadow trailing across my shoulder being the only indicator he had even been there. 

Mor and I stayed on the rooftop until the sun started peaking over the horizon. Coloring the Sidra a beautiful pink and orange. Sighing heavily as the lingering effects of the alcohol had started to wear off finally, leaving nothing but exhaustion in their wake. Mor simply grabbed my arm and winnowed us back to the house. 

Cassian and Azriel were asleep on the couches. A bottle of whiskey sitting empty on the table between them. They wouldn’t wake up until later in the afternoon. I threw blankets over both of them and started heading to my own room. I didn’t stay up long enough to bathe nor did I peel myself out of my dress. Suddenly too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. 

I woke up sometime in the late afternoon. Rhys all but pulled me out of bed.

“We're leaving soon.” That woke me up. With a curse I stumbled over myself to get to the bathing room. I took a hasty bath, washing away the remaining stardust that was stuck to my skin. I braided my hair and dressed in my Illyrian leather. Daggers slid into their place on my thigh. I strapped my sword to my back and was down to meet the others in less than thirty minutes. Rhys gave me an approving nod. 

Going to Windhaven never got any easier. I had no love for my old home. It was only a blessing from the cauldron that I haven't been born with wings. The cruelty I faced growing up was enough. The shudder that racked through me had nothing to do with the cold. 

I ignored the sneers from passing by males. Azriel and Cassian tight by my side serving as a buffer for the nasty comments that were usually thrown my way. Feyre was silent beside me, taking in the sights around her. 

We walked until Lord Devlon walked in front of us. A brutish male that was one of the few people in this world I can say I truly hated. Mor snarled at the mention of the girls they were supposed to be training. 

“And why aren’t the males helping them with the chores?” I dared to ask him. He looked at me like I was no more than a speck of dirt on his leathers. 

Before Devlon could grace me with a response Rhys cut him off. The demanding voice of a high lord telling him to clear out our old house. The tone even Devlon couldn’t argue with. 

Rhys, Feyre and I stood in the clearing. Time and time again she reached her power out, getting stronger each time. I practiced along with her. She stood in awe of the mist that poured out of my hands, getting thicker each time until it hugged the ground like fog. 

“When did you meet Tamlin?” Feyre asked after a string of questions about Illyria. Rhys and I both stiffened. The mist instantly retreated back into my hands. 

“Show me something impressive and I’ll tell you.” She rolled her eyes but did it anyway. Holding out her hand she conjured a butterfly out of the water in the snow. It was very impressive. 

“I’ve known Tamlin since he was young. The more decent children of the high lords at the time. Definitely better than Berons bunch.” He almost shivered and I willed the earth to swallow me whole. “And significantly better than his brothers, who knew from the moment Tamlin was born he would be high lord. He was the lesser of the evils so I decided it would be better if we were friends… I don’t know why but I even taught him some illyrian techniques.” 

“Did anyone know?” He shook his head. I blanched at the thought of how angry our father would have been had he known about Rhys and Tamlin’s friendship. Rhys looked to me, knowing the next part of the story was mine to tell. I just nodded at him, giving him permission to say the words I couldn’t. 

“When my father got wind of our friendship… for lack of a better term. He decided it was time for the two courts to align themselves more. And that’s where this gets even more complicated.” He trailed off, once again looking at me. 

“Why?” Feyre pressed on and I wish she hadn’t , wish she would have let it go at that. 

“Because the only way to join the courts in any way my father deemed worthy was to marry them together. Literally.” Feyre’s eyes went wide and her gaze landed on me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Shame rising up, tightening my throat. Rhys continued. 

“We all saw the power that Tamlin had, the power that marked him as the next High Lord of spring. And without any sisters for me to get paired off to, that left one option.” He shrugged over at me. 

“What happened? I mean, I’m assuming you never…never went through with it.” I took a deep breath, willing my voice to work. 

“I moved to the spring court, I tried to fight it but my father would absolutely not hear it. Every plea fell on deaf ears. So I went because I had to,” my hands were shaking as I pulled up the memories. “It wasn’t so bad. Tamlin was different back then, sweeter, less guarded. At least when he wasn’t around his father. We became friends over time. But the closer we grew, the more protective he got over me.” She nodded, understanding the feeling. “Eventually it became a little more. He fell faster than I did, I never really saw him as more than a close friend but we were supposed to be married so I played along. Wishing every day that I could return his sentiments. Calanmi came that next year and he sought me out.” She paled at my words, her hand rubbing absentmindedly at her neck. I quickly added. “It wasn’t horrific by any stretch of the imagination. If I had said no, regardless of the magic, he wouldn’t have done it. Would have stopped. But that was when everything shifted for him. I couldn’t go out to the gardens without having his sentinels on my tail. Was damn near confined to only the house. Lucien wasn’t around as much then, still fairly new to the court. And of course, his father was watching our every move. Gauging the relationship as it progressed. Watched as I withered away under Tamlin’s overbearing protection.” I couldn’t stop the words as they flowed out of my mouth. 

“I pushed back as much as I could. I was constantly sneaking out which only made him more overbearing. We fought more than we didn’t. Both of us said and did horrible things to each other. I knew I couldn’t live like that forever. Couldn’t continue to suffer just because my father had some grand plan.” I finally met Feyre’s eyes and I almost flinched at the understanding in them. Of course she would get it. Her own experience was not too different from mine. She nodded at me, a sign to keep going. 

“So I started planning how to get back home. I couldn’t just winnow away in the dead of night. I knew he would come looking for me. I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily. I had to break whatever love he thought he held for me, I had to make him let me go willingly. It wasn’t peaceful by any means. I went too far one day in an argument and for the first time ever he lost control.” I pulled up the arm to my jacket, letting the glamor fall away on the three angry claw marks that I never let heal. A reminder of just how destructive both of our tempers had gotten. 

“Why do you seem so calm about this, why didn’t you let me know…I would have-” Her skin was rippling with darkness. Fire flickering from her palms. 

“Would have what, Feyre? You were willing to die for him. I couldn’t take that away from you. I wanted to believe he could change, that he would be better to you. But that is simply how he loves.” I took a steading breath. “I said we both did some terrible things to each other and I stand by that. He’s a villain in my story as much as I am in his.” 

“We simply didn’t want to think we were trying to turn you against him” Rhys echoed. 

Rhys reached for her as she was already walking towards him. My ears barely picked up the whispered words. 

“I want to paint you.”

“Nude would be best” I rolled my eyes as Rhys reached to winnow me with them. 

I was able to catch up with Mor and Cassian as they surveyed the newest girls in training. Most of them were too scared to even pick up a sword, their eyes not moving from worriedly staring at Cassian. Signing, I stepped up in front of him. 

“Magic or no magic?” He asked, raising a challenging eyebrow to me. 

“Magic.” That gave him full permission to use his siphons. That was one department where I needed the practice as much as he did. I tried to pull all my focus on that kernel inside me. The smoke curled out from me before it retreated the moment I moved towards Cassian.

“Try harder.” He growled at me. And I did. I’d been able to coat the ground in the black fog. Cassian stepping to avoid it, but it followed him like a serpent. Twisting and curling around him. It was easier this time. More like trying to pull it through murky water as opposed to a brick wall. Something had changed since this afternoon. It was easier to hold onto it, and didn't leave me as breathless as before. It took a few more tries but I was even able to move around, the fog still staying on the ground. When we were done, I noticed Mor was coaching three of the girls who had been brave enough to pick up swords. I smiled at Cassian as we both watched her. It wasn’t much but it was progress. Slow progress but a start. 

All of us sat around the fire that night. Gathering as close as we could, trying to gain any sort of warmth from it. Feyre looked like her hands might just fall off, not built for or used to the frigid temperatures the night brought with it. We sat absently chatting as we all ate. Mor was going to Hewn city in the morning and Azriel had already left to scout out the human lands. I wasn’t happy with the idea of him going alone but he waved off my concern, promising me he would be safe. Mor, true to her word, left before the sun had even risen the next morning. Grumbling my good bye to her through sleep filled eyes. 

Rhys had convinced me to train with him and Feyre again. Impressed by the progress both of us had made so far. Feyre and I traveled further back into the clearing, putting space between her and my brother. I didn’t ever ask him what exactly had happened during starfall but the tension between the two was palpable and I didn’t blame her for needing space. As much as I hated being away from Azriel, the distance was nice. I felt like I was suddenly unable to think clearly around the shadowslinger. Thoughts more often than not drifting towards the memory of his lips on mine, his hands around my waist. 

A voice I recognized called out Feyre’s name. And to my horror it was not my brother but Lucien standing in the middle of the clearing. 

I stood by, ready to use my powers at the first sign from Feyre. Lucien and the wraiths at his side had yet to notice me. 

I hung onto every word of their exchange. Someone tipped us off that you had been here. Rage boiled my blood. Devlon no doubt being that someone. I took a step forward as Feyre stepped back. 

“Tamlin hasn’t been himself. We’ll take you back-

“Touch her and I kill you.” There was no warmth in my voice for my old friend. Lucien spun around so he was facing me. Giving Feyre time to put space between the two of them. He stared at me, mouth gaping. Smoke was already swirling around my feet. It would take nothing for me to reach out and get Feyre out of here. But this was her battle to fight. I wouldn’t make that choice for her. I felt my self control start to slip as he opened his mouth again.

“Of course. What poison have you been spewing into her ears?” He spit at me. 

“Don’t make this about me.” I spit back so harsh, he flinched. A twig snapping had Lucien whipping back to face Feyre. 

“Let’s go home.” He said as he reached out a hand. I reached for my dagger, wondering if I would be fast enough to sever it from his body if he reached any closer for her. 

“That stopped being my home the moment you let him lock me away inside.” She spoke, quiet as death. He at least had the decency to look ashamed. 

“He made a mistake. He’s sorry, we’re both sorry.” I couldn’t help the scoff that left my mouth. He only ripped his gaze on her away for a second. 

“All this time and you can’t come up with better excuses, Lucien?” I goaded him, “Will he change? Will he be better if she just gives him time?” I felt the fog thin out by my feet. I didn’t pay it any mind. 

I lunged forward the same time Lucien did. A shout leaving my mouth. But his hands found nothing. Feyre was now standing behind him with Rhys at her side. I didn’t let myself relax. 

“Didn’t your mother tell you what the word no means?” Lucien did nothing by spit at my brother's feet. But it was that one word from his mouth.Whoring prick. That had me lunging for him. A firm arm across my chest from Rhys was the only thing holding me back. 

“You made your point Feyre-now come home.” He reached his hand out again but feyre only stepped back. 

“You gave up on me.” The way she spoke those words hit me like a punch in the gut. Lucien’s eyes flickered over to me. No doubt remembering me saying similar things. I was suddenly very far away until I saw those beautiful IIlryian wings peek over her shoulder. Lucien to his credit did not fall as he stumbled back. 

“What did they do to you?” Horror laced his words. Good. 

“Tell Tamlin I won’t be coming back. That if he sends anyone for me, I’ll show him exactly what we do to those who wander into our court.” I felt no sympathy at the hurt that washed over Lucien's face. 

“You’re dead. You and everyone in your court.” He was gone before I had the chance to lunge at him. 

“Scheming prick. Stupid, overconfident bastard.” I kept shouting, kicking the snow around me. I had half a mind to go track him down at the spring court and finish the job I should have done a long time ago. It wasn’t truly Lucien I was mad at, no he was simply the messenger. Once again trying to clean up Tamlins messes. It was either that or have no court to call home. Anger flared through me at the thought. How Tamlin took advantage of Lucien’s situation and turned him into nothing more than a mindless crony. I didn’t pay attention to the words Rhys and Feyre spoke around me. Didn’t even notice Cassian flying in beside me until he gave my arm a small shake. I ripped it out of his hold without even thinking, letting loose a snarl. He spoke my name, reminding me of where exactly I was.

“You’re all safe. Come back with me.” He said, moving closer to me again. I felt the tears already sliding down my face as he scooped me into his arms. 

I hardly moved for the rest of the night. The shivers that ran through me had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel was still hunting for lingering signs of Lucien or the spring court so that left Cassian to deal with me. Something he was not known to be the best at, despite his best efforts. 

I sat with him until Mor came to collect us both, whatever business she had in Hewn city officially ended. 

She sat with me all night. Both of us curled up against each other as we slept. 

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be back later in the day so we all waited around for them. Hour after hour past and not a word from them. Azriel had left once again when we told him as much. He returned an hour later. 

“Nothing?” I asked him. He slammed his sword down on the table. 

“Not a damn thing.” He huffed, storming to one of the rooms in the back of the house. 

It was almost nightfall and I had been pacing back and forth across the living room of the small house when I heard a noise from outside. All of us were on our feet, rushing outside before we could think better of it. 

The sigh of relief that left me quickly turned into a gasp as I saw Rhys fall to his knees. Cassian and Azriel were on their side of him instantly. Feyre was still standing, in perfect shape actually. Good enough that she was able to march right past me and into the house. The two Illyrian warriors all but dragged Rhys into the house before leaving to go collect Majda. Feyre or Mor were nowhere to be seen.

Rhys’ eyes opened slightly and he only called out Feyre’s name. I shushed him, dabbing a wet washcloth over his head, he was burning hot. Majda came and confirmed what I already knew. Poison. Faebane. 

“He’s healing so he’ll need to just sleep it off,” she rose from beside his bed. “His mate's blood very well might have saved his life. He’ll recover in a day or two.” Her words caught me off guard. His mate. If Feyre knew her blood could heal him…Shit. Casssian and Azriel must have made the connection at the same time I did because when we heard Mor enter the house again, we all ran to find her in the living room. 

We pulled out a bottle of good wine as she confirmed what we had already thought. Feyre knew, no she doesn’t seem happy. No I won’t tell you idiots where she is. Of course, we could find her on our own if need be but it was the idea behind it. Mor only shared the more intimate details with me. Shooing the males out of the room. “Go take care of Rhys if you care that much. He’ll tell you himself.” They both stomped off in a way that reminded me of toddlers, walking into Rhys room. Mor rushed the words out. Feyre was fine overall, just pissed at him at all of us for keeping something this big a secret. I didn’t blame her one bit but it still stung a little that she was mad at all of us. Did she know how much we had been begging Rhys to tell her? 

Rhys woke up in the middle of the next day. He winced as I slammed the door

“How did she find out?” 

“Hello to you too. No, how nice to see you Rhysand, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“How did she find out?” I asked again. He sat up a little more, wincing slightly

“She trapped the Suriel.” I balked at him. “It seems it’s not the first time she's done it either.” 

Feyre had trapped the Suriel… that could mean. I didn’t want to get my hopes up but I was already on my feet. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Stay out of it, Rhys.” I closed the door a little softer. It took me practically getting on my knees, begging, to convince Mor to take me to the house she tucked Feyre away in. She only agreed when I promised I wouldn’t mention my brother. She needed to bring Feyre more food anyways.

I stood outside the door, feeling very stupid as I held a basket full of food for her.“If you’re asking me to forgive him, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Feyre had only opened the door an inch

“I need you to tell me how to catch the Suriel.” She opened the door wider

“Why do you want to know?” She motioned me into the house and I looked around wildly. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air and covered her skin. 

“I have something I need to ask. Please. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially right now. But please.” 

I stood in the middle of a clearing, new cloak in hand. My hands had frozen on the walk over but I had to talk to the Suriel. I knew it was around here, if it had talked to Feyre only the night before. The snare I made was sloppy at best. But I prayed to the mother it would work. 

The scream that echoed through the clearing had me running towards the sound, crossing my fingers. 

It had indeed worked. The Suriel had my velvet cloak in its hands.It thrashed violently as I approached, suddenly;y going still as it sensed my presence. 

“ Let me down before I gut you.” 

“I have a question first.” Hollow eyes looked at me, pinning me in place. 

“You seek answers about your curse?” 

“How do I get rid of it?” 

“You already know how. The very thing that the wicked queen knew you would never do.”

“Stop the games. Tell me.” I was shouting, hands shaking. 

“Forgiveness. Forgive the one you hate the most.”

I flinched like the Suriel had burned me. The words swam around my head. I vaguely realized I was shaking my head. 

“That can’t be it.” I pleaded. 

“I am many things, but a liar is not one of them.” I felt the angry tears starting to trail down my face. “Now let me go. I only have so much patience for meddling fae today.” I pulled out one of my jeweled daggers, slicing the rope that held the Suriel’s ankle. As the figure retreated, I sank down to my knees. Forgive the one you hate the most. 

It was a rare occurance to be summoned to her private chambers. Attors on either side of me, ready to strike at the first sign of push back. They unceremoniously threw me into the center of the room, pushing me to my knees in front of the red headed female. 

“Leave us.” She said in a voice that turned my stomach. I dared to raise my eyes off the ground. Rhys was perched in a soft looking chaise, he didn’t hold my eyes for long. The Attors shuffled out of the room but I knew they lingered in the hallway. 

“I hear you’ve been causing trouble again, princess.” It was all I could do not to flinch at the way she said that name. The name my family had called me for centuries. A defiled, twisted rendition of the sign of my family's love. “Well, I have a surprise for you.” Her voice dripped with a wicked delight. From somewhere in the room a noise drew my attention. I completely froze as I saw Tamlin being led out in chains. Even Rhys momentarily broke his mask to glare at him. Amarantha smiled at me as she walked over to him. She squeezed his cheeks in an overly familiar way. “Doesn’t he look good like this?” She laughs at my lack of response, pushing him away from her. He didn’t try to hide his stumble. “No groveling at his feet then? No apologies for the mess you got him into?” 

“That’s no-” An invisible hand around my throat cut off the words. Rhys’ eyes flickered to mine, an apology lingering in his violet stare. 

“Did I say you could speak?” She released her magic and I nearly fell to the ground, sucking in painful gulps of air. She stalked towards me, stopping inches from me. Her hand went out to cup under my chin, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Maybe if you hadn't broken his heart, he would have accepted my offer the first time.” I bared my teeth at her and she gave a sharp cold laugh. 

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Are you sure there’s no kind words for our little High Lord over here?”  I just held her gaze. Not wavering as I saw the fury in my lack of response, my lack of fighting. “Pity. Where’s that sharp tongue of yours now?” She pushed me, I landed on my back. I didn’t even cry out, too familiar with this treatment from her. 

“You’ve made your point.” Rhys said in a bored voice from his seated position. She only gave him a low growl. 

“You’re no fun.” She cooed at Rhys. The same voice you would use on a babe. Despite my best efforts, trails of black smoke so thick it looked like ink left my fingers. Another invisible force collided with my body and my power retreated back to me, my chest feeling like someone had poured ice water into my veins. Before I could even attempt to try again, she lifted me onto my feet by my hair. “As much as I’d love to see you try, I’m bored with you already.” She yanked my head back before releasing her hold on me. “Tamlin, any words of goodbye?” Forest green eyes met mine. After all that I endured in this hell, I had never felt as small as I did now. That simple glare, so full of hatred, reducing me to that same afraid girl I had once been. Tamlin didn’t speak. Neither did I. 

“Shame. You’ll wish you would have said something soon enough.” I didn’t have time to think over her words as the cold hands of the Attor wrapped around my arm, hauling me back to my room. Didn’t make the connection between that slam in my chest with the trickle of power that I was left with. 

It was right there. Amarantha was never one to just give you information. Just like that riddle that had saved us all. Everything had been a game to her, why would this have been any different? But there had to be another way. Thinking back to my encounter with Lucien recently, there was no way in hell I was forgiving any of them any time soon. I would talk to Helion. Go by myself if need be. Because it was going to be a cold day in Hel before I ever forgive Tamlin. 

I called out for Rhys. For anyone to come and get me. It was at least a day's journey on foot back to the boundary line outside of Windhaven. I sat by and no one came after me. I reached deep within myself and imagined the space I wanted to go to. I didn’t even make it half way before I popped back into the cold clearing, panting. I tried again and it was like I was reaching through brick again. My powers boarded up behind walls I could not break through. I kicked at the snow, cursing. I tried one last time, crying out when nothing happened. So I began to walk back, hoping when I got close enough Rhys would hear me screaming for him in my head. It wasn’t Rhys that came to get me. Instead, Mor appeared beside me. 

“Where have you been?” She said when she spied me, half frozen from the wind. 

“Later.” Was all I could get out, I was bone tired. 

“You all really need to get your shit together.” She grumbled under her breath as she winnowed us back to the house. Don’t I know it.

Rhys had gone to apologize to Feyre, and had not been back since. We could only hope that meant all was well, or that she had at least hid the body herself. 

Rhys and Feyre returned the next day. They didn’t even attempt to hide the smell of the bond, and as happy as I was for my brother I gave him a wide berth. Cassian on the other hand only saw the tension in Rhys shoulders, the way his eyes were drifting between Feyre and every other movement around him. 

“Anytime you want a real ride, Feyre, let me know.” As if his words weren’t enough, the wink he sent Feyre had Rhys lunging for him. I had to quickly side step out of the way to avoid being hit by flailing wings. Ushering Feyre into the house I muttered loud enough for her to hear, “Big Illyrian babies.” 

They fought for an hour and despite being covered in blood, Feyre sent Rhys a look that the rest of us could not run away from fast enough. Mor winnowed the two of us to the house of wind. Azriel was already there, wings tucked in tight as he looked out the large window overlooking Velaris. I snuck up behind him, a rare achievement to make the spymaster jump when I placed a hand on his shoulder. The others slowly trickled into the room as we all waited for Feyre and Rhys to join us. 

The sun was just starting to touch the water when we heard them enter. One by one we stood in front of Feyre before giving a low bow, hands on our hearts in an ancient gesture of respect. One she had more than earned. I couldn’t help but smile at my brother's joy, it radiated off of him in waves so strong I swore I could reach out and grab them. The joy of finally having Feyre by his side. Rhys’ eyes followed my hand as I rubbed a small circle into my chest, separate from the sign we had given Feyre. The tension eased slightly.  Rhys quickly looked away before I could ask him why he was staring so intently on me. 

The human world was just as I remembered it. Despite seeing it less than a month ago, I still gawked as we approached Feyre’s family home. I knew she never lived in this particular estate but the idea that Tamlin made this possible for them thawed my heart just a fraction. Forgive the one you hate the most. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to my brother, or anyone, about what Suriel had told me. Everyone too caught up in Rhys and the Queens we were sitting in front of. 

I sat in stunned silence at the vipers in crowns in front of us. The queens I had met before would laugh if they heard these were their predecessors. 

Mor opened the box in front of her and I had to sit on my hands to stop the urge to knock it out of her hands and destroy the orb. Azriel’s hand on my shoulder did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of me. We all took a collective breath as the bright lights of Velaris filled the orb.

“This is Velaris,” My brother started and I felt his heart shatter in front of me. “For five thousand years, we have kept it a secret from outsiders. This is what I have fought so hard to protect. The cruelty you believe I possess to protect this city, my people. Dreamers and creators and good people with families. People that have never known strife or violence. All of what I have gone through over the centuries was to protect them.” I couldn’t stop the sniffle that left me and I desperately tried to blink back the tears rimming in my eyes. 

“We will..consider this information.” Mor snarled beside me. I felt like the eldest queen had punched me in the stomach. I went to stand but Nesta beat me to it. 

“Give.Them.The.Book” I didn’t discount the single tear streaking down her own face. 

“No.” A word so final I couldn’t breathe. 

“We appreciate the gesture of your trust.” But I could not look away from the way Cassian stood next to Nesta. The calm he emitted from standing so close to her. When I looked back the queens were gone. 

I looked to my brother, head reeling at the events that had just happened. We fulfilled our end of the bargain. Screaming, manipulative-

In Rhys’ hand sat a box, a box not unlike the one Feyre had struggled to open when we returned from the summer court. A surprised noise left my mouth and Azriel tightened his hand on my shoulder, rubbing small comforting circles. 

Nesta and Elain chose to stay in the mortal lands. The sisters are staying in their family home. The last thing I heard before we left was Nesta whispering to Feyre. That’s why you painted stars on your drawer. 

There was no celebration when we arrived back in Velaris. No sense of triumph as we handed the book to Amren. We had gotten what we needed but at what cost. To Rhys, to my family, it had cost everything. All that he suffered during the war, from my father, from the Illyrian soldiers that looked down on him so much. All that he suffered under the mountain, from Amarantha, all the horrible things we had done together. All of it was sacrificed to the wicked queens who still did not know we possessed the book. Queens who would gladly sit back and watch Prythian and their world be destroyed. 

Rhys and Mor went to the Court of Nightmares the next morning, to return what we had stolen before Kier noticed. Azriel and Cassian pulled me into my study to go over the map, planning for the inevitable war. We added more pins to the maps, adjusting the Illryians to their new location scattered across the mountain ranges. Added the black pins for the warriors we prayed Kier would grant us. I don’t know how long we stayed in that room, Cassian and Azriel periodically doing a lap of the house and its perimeter to watch for anyone who would want to hurt Feyre. Overgrown guard dogs. But I found that even I was keeping a more watchful ear out for any sign of trouble, a light cover of fog I kept over my hands like gloves, ready to attack at a moment's notice. 

The next day, Azriel pulled me from the map to accompany him on patrol. Leaving Cassian the great pleasure of entertaining Feyre until Rhys’ return later today. The city held an eerie silence today despite the citizens going about their usual routines. It wasn’t much later than that thought crossed my mind that I felt the ground beneath my feet quake. My head whipped to Azriel who had gone as still as a statue, his shadows scattering out from him searching for the source of the sound. 

“Azriel?” I questioned, looking around the area for any threat. And then I followed his eye line. Eyes turned to the once clear midafternoon sky, now tinged in clouds of darkness. They were moving far too fast to be only storm clouds. 

“Get Amren and Cassian, now” I choked out. Azriel’s arms were around me instantly, taking off into the sky. Feyre and Cassian had gone to the amphitheater on the other side of the city, hopefully they weren’t far from there. A red light filled the sky, a homing beacon to where we would find Cassian. Quake after quake filled the ground as those creatures tore through the shield around the city. They reverberated through the air, Azriel only held onto me tighter.  

Cassian was shooting through the sky and I felt the ground beneath my feet. Azriel stayed long enough to hear me cry out to him, “Be safe.” He was gone. And I was running towards the direction I had seen Cassian fly in from. Screaming filled the air and I reached for the sword on my back, daggers left forgotten on my hip. I gave tentative push of my power and could have cried in relief at the cloud that pushed out from me, however thin it was. I pulled my earlier thought from my mind, the twinge of something I felt as I had looked at Feyre’s home in the human lands, the physical proof of Tamlin taking care of them, I focused all my spare energy onto that single kindness and I watched the fog grow thicker, curling around me in a way that was so familiar.

 I clutched at that feeling as I heard the screams around me grow louder. I could not run fast enough to stop the swarm of Attor like creatures that flooded the streets. I thought of Elain’s sweet face and Nestas beautiful dresses and willed my power to wrap around the creatures in front of me. If they could see me, they didn’t let it show. The only sign I had that my power had worked against them was the choked screams they let out. My sword tinged with their blood as I ran it clean through them. I pulled that black smoke into me, panting as I forced my legs to run ever faster. Reaching out for something deeper, I visualized the next swarm of them I could see and I felt the familiar pressure as I appeared in the middle of them. Shooting my power out with a force I didn’t recognize, I made quick work of them. They didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. I couldn’t focus on the blood that now stained my blade and face. Could only think of the distance between me and the bright pops of red and blue in the sky, the water I could hear roaring just ahead of me. If I had looked up I would have seen the pack of water wolves Feyre was using to chase them from the city streets and back into the air. 

The tremble that took my feet out from under me was one that did not scare me. Rhys had arrived and his rage took out half of their forces. His power filled the air with a metallic scent and I did my best not to think about what the dusting of red was as it covered my skin. A second roar, far stronger than the first one spurred me on. I did not fear the darkness that slipped over my eyes, those stars and nothing short of pure night. When I could finally make out shapes again, I saw the outline of wings, not those gnarled and bony wings of the creatures attacking us, but Illyiran wings, claws fully extended. I didn’t think as I barreled towards the shape. Didn’t think as I launched myself into Azriel’s chest. His arms came to wrap around my waist, pulling me so tight to him I struggled to breath but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I gulped down whatever breath I could, filling my lungs with the scent of him. Heart hammering in time with his own wild heartbeat. The screaming had stopped, leaving only a horrifying silence in their wake. I did not let go of Azriel as he winnowed us back to the townhouse. 

All of us were sitting in the living room of the house in various states of disarray. Mor’s hair was caked with dirt and flecks of blood, her eyes starting to flutter shut. Feyre was curled up next to her also looking like she was ready to fall asleep any moment. 

I could see the gears in Cassian's head spinning. The general already thinking about what this means for the greater battles ahead. Obviously, the queens had sold us out to Hybern. Our home had been used as a bargaining chip and it had bit us in the ass. 

My eyes flickered over to Rhys and I could tell his thoughts were in a similar spot. It wasn’t your fault. I said into his head. He flinched, a disgusted look replacing the grief for a brief second. I told them where the city was, I gave them the information freely and for the first time in centuries an outsider knows about the city and then we get attacked. How is that not my fault sister? It was my turn to flinch. With Rhys in his current mood, there was no point in trying to argue back. So I finally closed my eyes and tuned out the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. I didn’t have the energy to talk about Hybern right now. The throbbing headache behind my temples let me know just how much magic I had used today and let me know how much I needed to start hunting for ways to break this curse.

At some point Azriel had stretched out next to me on the couch, my back to his side. Half asleep, I turned to face him and just grabbed his arm. Curling around him as best as I could in our current position. Someone in the room chuckled as I settled down once again. I don’t know how much time passed as they all just sat and talked. I drifted in and out of sleep but couldn’t piece anything coherent together. At some point I felt Cassian standing over me. 

“Come on let’s get you to bed.” His voice held more humor than I would expect from him after today. My eyes didn’t even open before I said. 

“Move me from here and you will lose that hand.” I snuggled closer into Azriel to prove my point. The male by my side laughed a stiff laugh but wrapped his arm around me tighter. I was too tired to care about the content purr that left my chest at the motion. Too tired to care that he scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to my room. And definitely too tired to hear the three words he whispered to me as he closed my door.

Taglist: @nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nocasdatsgay

[samsno1]

A/N: tried not to use any gender-defining pronouns for the reader in this one but if I accidently left any in here, I apologise, force of habit yk

"Hey, Sam, come here for a second" Dean calls him and the youngest looks up from his laptop to his brother, who's standing a few feet away, leaning against the door after coming back from the kitchen, where he got a pack of beer for the three of you.

You, on the other hand, were focused in your books, reading lore about creatures purely to be more wise when it came to either finding out who or what was disturbing the peace or killing it as quick as possible so that the torment would be gone.

Sam reached for your wrist and gently held it for a moment so you'd look at him. You raise your eyes to his face, your beatiful orbs almost knocking the air out of his lungs. "I'll be back" He says gently and you give him a tiny smile, nodding in approval and going back to your task, fully concentrating into it to the point you didn't even feel Sam's hand letting go of your arm.

Sam glances at you one last time and slight smile graces his face before he got up from his chair, walking towards the oldest. Neither of you see it but Dean rolled his eyes at the interaction, making a disgusted face.

Once Sam got closer, Dean adjusted his position against the door, standing upright to seem taller and take on the 'older, wiser brother' role.

"Yeah, what's up?" Sam asks his brother and Dean lifts an eyebrow. He raises a hand and flattens it against his brother's back, hitting him lightly, guiding him to the kitchen again. Sam walks along, the sting on his back ignored as he's suddenly confused and, at the same time, worried.

"Hey, Y/N, we'll be right back, if you need anything, we're in the kitchen!" Dean yells at you, turning his head slightly over his shoulder so you'd hear him clearly. He hears your faint 'Okay' and continued guiding Sam, this time to sit at the kitchen table.

Sam sat down and stared at his brother — who looked out the kitchen door to guarantee you were still studying — and made a confused face.

Once Dean was sure they were alone, he turned to his brother, arms crossed.

"Dean, is everything—?"

"You gotta' stop this man" Dean interrupts and Sam frowns, even more confused. Dean rolls his eyes, again, this time visible to Sam.

"Stop...what?" Sam inquires.

"You know...That! Why don't you tell Y/N instead of staring like a creep as if you're under a love spell?" Dean lowers his voice so that you wouldn't listen.

Sam opened and closed his mouth, trying to find a way out of this. "I don't know what you're talking about"

Dean face drops and he looks almost angry at Sam's stupidity. He sits down in front of him, flattening his uper arms against the table and crossing his fingers from each hand.

"Y/N might be naíve but I'm not, Sam. Actually, I'm very aware. For months. The looks you give, the 'let me make you breakfast', the way you get so jealous when people stare at bars—" Sam opens his mouth to counter but Dean raises a finger — like he would do to a toddler — to silence him "—and don't say you don't do that because every time we go to bars or clubs you suddenly get in a mood when you see someone looking in a different way."

Sam stays silent. If even his brother knew than you probably did too, right? He sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"And what am I supposed to do, hm? I'm not going to ruin our friendship for a...crush or whatever. Y/N isn't even into me anyways, why bother?" Sam says matter-of-factly and Dean has the urge to punch some sense into his brother right then and there.

"Isn't even— How are you both so stupid?"

"Who's stupid?" You suddenly enter the room, a book in your hand — one of the ones you were studying. Sam swallows harshly, scared that you heard anything and silently glared at his brother.

"You are" Dean replied and you roll your eyes playfully at him. At the same time it wasn't a lie, you didn't know the whole truth.

"Haha, very funny Dean. Anyways, I need to steal Sam back for a moment, are you guys still busy?" You ask, looking between the siblings, your eyes lingering for a while longer on the youngest, noticing Sam staring daggers at his brother. Dean shrugs.

"He's all yours" He says and you thank him, nodding. Dean leaves the kitchen saying something about Baby and you approach Sam.

You lay your hand softly over his upper arm, your touch burning through his clothes and against his skin. He looks at you then, seeing that little worry line between your eyebrows. He loved that. He thought about kissing it — if he could — to smooth it away anytime you looked at him that way.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, your voice soothing. He almost melts right then and there.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine...What did you need?" He reasures you and you relax. You remember what you were doing here in the first place before getting distracted and showed Sam something in the book that you didn't understand, asking him about it.

He started to explain it to you but you could barely pay attention to what he was explaining. You stared at his face, completely lost. The way his lips moved, the slight stubble from his beard already visible, and his finger dancing against the letters in the paper while he tried to make you understand were so...distracting.

You loved how passionate he was about books and lore. He was smart and you found that amusing. It was one of your favorite things about him.

Once he finished telling you about it he looked at your face to see you zoned out while you showed the faintest smile. He smiled too.

You woke up from your trance and, when you noticed he was done and you were just mindlessly staring at him, you felt your face heat up. You cleared your throat and looked down at the book again.

"Thank you" You said.

"No problem, anything else just ask" He replied, knowing you hadn't paid attention to a word he said.

You looked at him again and nodded. You got closer and gave him a kiss on his cheek and Sam heard alarms going off in his head.

"You're the best" you said, smiling, and walked back to the library, leaving Sam speechless in the kitchen, wide eyed.

One day you were gonna be the death of him.

A/N: Yay, another drabble! Giving you guys this while I finish writing the p. 2 to Dream Of Me (which already has 4k words and I didn't even get to the good part 🤭). I love awkward idiots in love, my favorite troupe and I think it fits Sam well. Anyways, tell me what you think! 🫶

[damallarky]

Truce

There was an influx of Papae!Solas content and I wanted to share a WIP I was working on that I'm not sure what I'm going to do with or where it's going to go in the grand scheme of my Inquisitor and Rook's story.

For context:

Neria is my Lavellan and Solas's twelve-year-old daughter. She is at the Lighthouse because of reasons.

Ren is my Rook. He is my Lavellan's oldest brother.

Solas is busted from the Fade by Rook and Co. Because that is going to happen Bioware.

Neria does not appreciate the strange man who is suddenly in her and her mother's lives.

To Neria, he is the Interloper and must be Stopped.

Stuff happens, and Neria has a change of heart and is willing to give the guy a chance.

However, first, she needs to set some ground rules.

Enasali (who is briefly mentioned) is the Ill-Advised Pre-Veilguard Solavellan Hookup Baby

AKA why it was Varric trying to talk Solas down and not Lavellan.

AKA why Varric has gray hair. Sorry dude.

Neria is too much like her father. I love her.

Neria found him in the library, speaking in low tones to Emmerich and Uncle Ren as they poured over some massive tome. Unnoticed by the three men, Neria used the opportunity to study the bald elf, whom Mamae claimed to be her father. 

He had quite a bit more color since her uncle pulled him out of the Fade. He no longer looked so pale and sickly, and the dark circles under his eyes had started to fade. He still looked tired, to be sure, but it was less somehow. He also stood straighter, taller, as if he had been carrying something heavy on his back and was finally able to relieve his burden. 

There were other things Neria noticed about him as well. Features that were familiar to her. Features that she knew didn’t come from her mother but never truly seemed to realize that they came from someone else. Like how his ears were shaped similarly to her own or how they both had a cleft chin, though hers was noticeably less prominent. 

And then there were the eyes. 

Neria knew that she had her father’s eyes; her mother had told her as much growing up. But it never truly registered with her, until she met the man they called Solas and saw her own grayish purple eyes stare down at her. 

The same grayish purple eyes that were currently watching her intently. 

Apparently, she had been noticed. Great.

“Neria, did you need something? Is everything alright?”, her uncle asked. 

Neria fought the growing urge to run away, and instead crossed her arms and tried to give her best “serious” face, like her Aunt Cassandra wore when she meant business. 

Neria wanted to show that she meant business, too. 

“I wish to speak with Solas,” she said, in her best Aunt-Cassandra-Serious-Business-Voice. Figuring that might have been a little too demanding, she added, “When he has a minute to talk. If that’s ok?”

“Of course,” Solas said, perhaps a little too quickly. Emmerich and Uncle Ren shared a look. Emmerich shrugged.

“Yeah, sure, we could use a bit of a break,” her uncle agreed. He and Emmerich grabbed the book and left the library, her uncle giving her shoulder a small squeeze as he walked by. 

And just like that, Neria found herself alone with her father for the first time in her life.

“You wished to speak with me, Neria?” He asked, gently.

Neria cleared her throat.

“Yes. I wish to parley,” she declared. 

She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting Solas’s reaction to be. She had figured he would laugh at her and tell her to stop being childish. Or maybe even get angry at her for being so demanding of an adult. What she wasn’t expecting, was for Solas to nod with actual, genuine seriousness. He clasped his hands behind his back, like one of those statues in Orlais of human generals.

“Very well,” he said, before gesturing to one of the many plush chairs seated around the table in the center of the library. “Please, take a seat.”

“Solas, it has come to my attention that I might have been a little bit mean to you.” Then, because she didn’t want to him to think she was going soft, she added, “Just a little bit, though!” 

Solas nodded, solemnly, his face carefully neutral. Neria continued.

“As such,” she said, “I wish to declare a truce.”

Solas’s neutral mask slipped, and Neria noticed the corners of the man’s mouth tick upwards ever so slightly. With his hands folded on the table, he leaned forward so that he was eye level with Neria.

“Ma nuvenin. What are the terms of this potential truce?”

“First; I will not call you ‘Papae’ or ‘Father’.”

“Of course,” Solas agreed, “I would not ask that of you if it made you uncomfortable.”

Neria blinked. This was easier than she thought!

“Um, ok. Good,” she said. “Second term; you will call me Neria and only Neria. No stupid nicknames, like da’vhenan. Ok?”

For a fraction of a second, something flashed in Solas’s eyes. Something that looked a bit like hurt. Or maybe regret? However, it came and went so quickly that Neria wasn’t sure if she actually saw it at all.

He nodded.

“Third; if I want to be left alone, I want you to leave me alone. Ok?”

Once again, Solas nodded. 

“I would not wish to encroach upon your space.”

Neria mirrored her father’s pose, clasping her hands together and laying them on the table in front of her. She didn’t quite strike the same imposing figure as Solas, but, for being twelve, she thought it was close enough. 

“Good,” she declared. “Now, in return, I will permit you to continue to court my Mamae and help her take care of Enasali. But if, and only if, you continue to make Mamae happy.”

Solas’s neutral mask slipped once more and it was obvious he was actively trying not to grin. Neria narrowed her eyes at him, not appreciating the lack of seriousness on his part. Solas coughed and his face went carefully blank once more. 

“Ir abelas,” he said, his voice serious despite the twinkle still in his eyes. “Neria, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make your mother as happy as I possibly can for as long as she will allow me to do so.” 

Now was the part that she didn’t necessarily want to agree on, but she knew it was only fair. It was the whole reason why she was speaking to her father in the first place.

“And finally,” she said, reluctance clear in her voice, “I will do my best to… to give you a chance.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Film Studies Slashers Part One

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Words: 2839

Summary: With her revenge plot foiled by campus killers beating her to the punch, the reader investigates the killings only to find that her boyfriend is one of the murderers. This proves to be rather useful in her mission to kill Gale Weathers… until Mickey’s partner takes matters into her own hands. 

Notes: Listen… I’m just going to leave this here. Judge me if you will, but remember that this is Timothy Olyphant and the man is beautiful. Plus, Mickey is one of the best Ghostfaces. I’m obviously tweaking some things, but I’m not gonna lie, I actually hate Gale so I was okay writing the reader hating her. I’m going to have to do some tweaking with which is which Ghostface in certain scenes, but I’ll try to make it make sense. I don’t know how much of this I’ll get done, but it’s honestly a blast to write. (I also have a finished Mickey fluff so keep an eye out for that) Happy Halloween! 

-

The campus was dead. Pardon the pun, of course, but there was no other way to describe it. With everyone terrified of the killer, going out at night was out of the question for most of the student body. 

You hoped he found you. This fucker was stealing your thunder and you were pissed as hell. You had spent too many years sucking up to Sidney fucking Prescott to have your revenge stolen by some Stu Macher wannabe. 

Granted, your plan also involved some significant stabbing, but you needed to make sure that this new guy didn’t beat you to the punch. Whoever it was. 

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, you know,” a voice whispered from the dark. “You never know what kind of weirdos come out at night.” 

“Other than you, you mean?” You snarked back, leaning against the streetlamp you stood under. 

Mickey stepped into the light. A sly smile spread across his lips.

“Says the one wandering around in the dark armed with…” he reached into your satchel with one hand and ran a finger up your arm with the other, making you shiver. Mickey pulled out your notebook and flipped through the pages. 

You winced as his eyes scanned your notes on all of the killings, including pictures of all of the victims so far. 

He cocked a brow. “Maybe I should be worried for my own safety. Tell me, Y/N.” He held up your page with a picture of Sidney. “Are you the killer?” 

You snatched the notebook back. “Very funny, asshole.” 

“I’m being totally serious. That is like Serial Killer 101. You should know, Little Miss Legal Studies,” Mickey teased.

You took a step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes with a darkened gaze. 

“I guess that means you should start running, huh?”

He returned your stare, eyes bright and challenging. He put his hands on your shoulders and crashed his lips against yours. You wasted no time either, fingers lacing through his dark hair and deepening the kiss until you forgot where you were. You forgot about the killer. You forgot about Woodsboro. Most of all, you forgot about Gale Weathers. 

“What are you thinking about?” He muttered against the skin of your jaw. 

You poked his side. “Stabbing and death,” you teased. “You?”

His mouth opened in mock surprise and spoke with a sing-song tone. “Would you believe me if I said the same thing?” 

You laughed, shaking your head. 

“We are seriously fucked up, huh?” You laced your fingers through his and started walking back down the path. 

“But that’s why we work so well.” 

Mickey twirled you around, pulling you into his arms again to bury his face in your neck, playfully nipping. 

“We have to get to that stupid party,” you said, pulling away again.

He pouted. 

You rolled your eyes. “I promised Sidney I’d save her from the sorority swarm.” 

“You don’t even like her.”

“I do too.”

“No, you don’t,” he argued, tone still teasing. “And you’ve never actually told me why.” He tried to urge you back to him, but you resisted, a darkness suddenly settling over you. 

“It’s a long story,” you said. 

He held up his hands innocently. “Okay.” His head tilted in curiosity, but he didn’t press the issue. 

“We really should get going”

“Actually,” he clapped his hands together, “I will catch up with you.” You opened your mouth to protest. “I know, I know, but I promise I’ll be quick. I just have this project I have to finish up for class first.”

“Since when do you care about homework?”

“Babe,” he smiled, “it’s for film theory.”

You crossed your arms, frowning. You already weren’t looking forward to this fucking mixer and you certainly weren’t looking forward to going without your usual partner in crime. Mickey wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, kissing you in between every word. 

“I. Will. Be. Right. There,” he promised. “And then we can make fun of every shitfaced frat boy there.” 

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m getting drunk without you.” 

“Fair enough.” He kissed you one more time. “I’ll see you there.” 

He went back toward his dorm, you went to the sorority house, both of you taking different paths into the night. 

-

If one more preppy girl came up to you with her stupid smile and her stupid small talk and a stupid sweater tied around her stupid neck, you were going to use that sweater to strangle her. 

Two of them were talking to Sidney, who kept looking at you to save her. 

You gave her an encouraging thumbs up and downed the rest of your drink. You weren’t sure what was in it, but it was sure working. 

“Empire Strikes Back.” A familiarly smug voice said across the yard. “It was a better story, improved effects.”

You looked up, finding Randy talking to your oh-so-late boyfriend. Now that was a blue sweater you wanted nothing more than to rip off. 

“Not a sequel,” Randy corrected. “It was part of a trilogy. Completely planned.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and spotted you in the process. He grinned. You scowled. He crossed the yard towards you. 

“It’s been foooooreeever,” you drawled, tongue weighed down by the cheap liquor. He sat on the bench beside you. 

“The assignment took longer than I thought, baby,” Mickey said, putting your drink aside and pulling you into his lap. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your lips latched onto his neck, fingers tracing along the edge of that silly blue sweater. Mickey took your wandering hands in his. 

“Easy, tiger. What would your little Woodsboro friends think?”

“Who fucking cares?” You grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled his lips back to yours. He didn’t argue again, hands cupping your face and body pressed against yours. You seemed to stay like that for hours, barely even coming up for air. 

Everyone else disappeared. Until-

“Something happened.”

“Not. Now. Randy.” You said in between kisses, annoyance clear in your still tipsy tone. 

Randy put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder and pulled him away. The look the other boy gave him made him take a step back. Between Mickey’s glare and the news that broke up the party, his nerves were more than a little on edge. 

“Listen, sorry to interrupt your little sex party over here, but there are cop cars around the Omega Beta Zeta house. And I’ve got a really bad feeling.” He looked at you pointedly. 

Unlike your hometown buddies, you could care less about the latest killer’s hobbies. But where there was a killer, there were bloodthirsty journalists. 

You clenched your jaw. “Fine. Let’s go find out who else got sliced and diced, huh?”

Mickey helped you up, keeping his fingers laced with yours as everyone rushed toward the doors. 

Across the street, people swarmed in flashing red and blue. News vans clogged the driveway. You stopped moving. Your grip on your boyfriend’s hand tightened. 

“What the fuck is she doing here?” 

Across the street was the sobering sight of one Gale Weathers. She was heckling some other woman who had her back towards you. 

“She was here earlier today,” Halle said. “Totally blindsided Sidney by bringing Cotton Weary to campus.”

“Gale’s here with Cotton?” You exclaimed. 

First, a new killer starts mimicking the movie based on her fucking book, and now she’s harassing the survivors by bringing up the past. 

Your plan might have to happen sooner than you thought. 

“Don’t worry,” Halle added with a smirk, “Sidney already gave her a piece of her mind.” She made the motion of a punch. 

“Did you know about this?” You turned to Mickey, whose eyes were fixed across the way. 

The woman talking to Gale hurried off. 

Mickey’s thumb rubbed the back of your hand. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Well, I’m upset now!” 

His phone started buzzing. “Shit.” 

Your anger shifted into fear, gruesome memories rushing through your head. Your eyes widened as he answered. 

“M-Mickey…” You tugged on his arm anxiously. 

He listened to the voice on the other side and mouthed “It’s fine.” He brought your hand to his lips as another reassurance. 

“I have to take this, I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes darted between you and the crowd. “Stay here.”

 Mickey stepped away, leaving you with the others to watch the chaos at the other sorority house. That’s when you saw that familiar head of chunky highlights heading towards you. 

“Fucking bitch,” you muttered to yourself and headed back to the Delta Lambda Zeta house. With Derek the guard dog at the front door, you decided to go around back to avoid any real interaction with Sidney’s boyfriend. Pitying looks was the last thing you needed from the frat prince. 

You didn’t see the flash of black until it overtook you.  

And, suddenly, it all came back. 

You saw the face of Billy Loomis as you ripped off the stupid, elongated white mask. He smirked down at you. 

“I always had a bit of a hard-on for you, Y/N,” he sneered, slowly pushing the knife into your side. He put a hand over your mouth to silence your screams. “I mean, Syd’s great and all but, the principal's daughter?” He chuckled. “I mean, it sounds like something out of a movie.” 

He took out the knife and started again. 

You stared up at that same mask as it hovered over you, arm raised with the same curved knife that almost killed you. 

“Not this time you sonofabitch,” you spat and used all of your strength to bring your knee up into your attacker’s stomach. 

They cried out and fell to the grass beside you, but not before they got a solid swipe at your side, sliding through your shirt down to the skin. A familiar, hot sting radiated from the spot and you screamed. You screamed like hell.

“Mickey!” One hand clawed at the ground to pull you away, the other clamped over your now bleeding wound. “Derek! Mickey! Anybody! Help me!” 

“Y/N?” Sydney’s voice called from inside the house. 

Ghostface whipped around at the sound. 

“Syd, run!” You shrieked. 

A flash of blue sweater came around the corner just as a large black boot stomped the side of your head. Memories and darkness took over, all speaking with the altered voice of your nightmares.

-

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He wasn’t supposed to care. But with every stirring motion, the traitor in his chest jumped. 

Your eyes fluttered open and Mickey let out a sigh of relief. 

“There she is,” he smiled. “I was starting to wonder if this was going to turn into a The Dead Zone situation.”

“Well, I don’t know, do I have any powers?” You asked wearily, looking around at your surroundings. You were in the emergency room. Guess they figured your injuries weren’t too serious to take you to surgery. You felt at the bandage on your side, letting the haze in your head clear before you sat up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You swung your legs over the side of the hospital bed and started to stand, ignoring every sore limb telling you not to. 

“Hey, I don’t think you're supposed to do that, babe,” Mickey said, putting a hand out to stop you.

“I’m not staying here so everyone can gawk at me like a zoo animal, Mickey,” you snapped. “Especially when Gale fucking Weathers is in town.” 

“I won’t let her anywhere near you.”

Your eyes blazed. “I don’t want your help.” 

Something flashed in his eyes. Something you’d never seen before. Something that made you sit down again. 

But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Mickey looked at the ground. 

“I’m going to go check on Derek. He got cut up by the guy that attacked Sidney.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think she’s probably more freaked out than he is, so I should probably talk to her too.”

He left you in the hospital room feeling like a total bitch. 

-

Mickey stretched his sore limbs as he stepped into the unlocked apartment. He should really remind you to lock that. There were psychos running around. 

“Y/N?” He called into the dark. “Baby, you here?” 

“In here,” you spoke through a gasp. 

Mickey dropped his bag at the foot of the bed, looking at the light pooling out of the ajar bathroom door. He could just see your frame standing in front of the mirror. Your shirt was off and your fingers were peeling up the bandage that the hospital put on the gash in your side. 

“Hey, I don’t think you should be doing that-” Mickey started, pushing the door open all the way. 

He stopped, seeing the reflection of your tear-filled eyes looking back at him. 

You swiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and turned around to face him, displaying your new wound, along with marks of old ones. Three long, jagged lines along your torso. 

He imagined Billy sticking a knife in you and unconsciously clenched his fists. 

“It brought it all back,” you said through gritted teeth. “I promised myself I would never be that scared again and today I felt like that weak, pathetic high school girl again.” You ran your fingers over the scars, flinching as you touched the angry, red stitched-up cut on your side. “All because of her.”

Mickey’s brows drew together. 

You took a breath and jutted out your chin. “Gale Fucking Weathers.” 

“Wait.” He ran a hand down his face, almost laughing. “You just got stabbed and curb-stomped by a guy dressed in the same outfit that someone who stabbed you- and almost killed you- was wearing and you’re freaked out about a journalist.” 

“I’ve looked killers in the eye before, baby,” you snapped. “But Gale Weathers is a goddamn necromancer. She brought Billy Loomis and Stu Macher back from the dead and now they’re going to outlive all of us.”

“Babe-” He started to reach out to you, but you pushed past him. 

“And we can’t forget about Sidney,” you exclaimed. “Poor, perfect Sidney, the tragic hero of the story. It’s all about her.” You paced back and forth, anger boiling out any soreness you might still have felt. “It’s like nobody else made it out. Randy’s a plot device, Dewey is a joke, and me-” You whipped around with eyes on fire. “I’m not even in it!” You picked up one of Mickey’s shoes, knocking over his backpack, and threw it at a picture on your wall. A photo from high school- with you, Sidney, and Tatum. 

Mickey hurried toward you and grabbed your wrist in each hand. 

“She wrote me out of my life.” You fought against him, refusing to let him see you cry, but his grip was too strong. “That bitch wrote me out of my own life and now she’s back to do it all over again.” 

“We won’t let her,” Mickey said, his own rage starting to surface. He tightened his hold so much it almost hurt. “Gale Weathers is just another hack who will get what’s coming to her and someone else will turn it into just another story.” He let go of your wrists and moved his hands to your face. “I promise, baby.” 

His dark eyes held that same look you saw in the hospital. It should have scared you. Instead, it pushed you into him, crashing your lips against his and pulling his body against yours despite the slight pain in your side. Maybe you just needed to put all of your roiling energy to good use. And Mickey was more than happy to help. 

-

Mickey got in the shower with a head clouded full of feelings he didn’t know what to do with. He wanted to kill that reporter bitch- not because it would be the kind of poetic justice perfect for his plan, but because she had hurt you. Everything was getting too complicated. 

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went back to your bedroom, finding you at the foot of the bed, hunched over and holding something in your hand. 

“I thought you were too tired to move,” he teased. “But if you’re up for another round, then I am-”

He stopped as you stood. 

The cloak spilled out of the backpack. The knife glinted at your feet. The Ghostface mask gaped back at him in your hands.

Mickey swallowed. “I can explain that.”

You walked towards him, eyes wide and chin held high. Your gaze burned a hole in his panicking heart. Mickey gritted his teeth. He wasn’t supposed to panic. He wasn’t supposed to feel. 

You shoved the mask against his chest. 

“Y/N…” He searched for the words, more for himself than for you. 

You spoke firmly and coolly, like reading a movie line. “I want in.” 

[jeongyunhoed]

As seen on my FF.net Also seen on my Ao3

Following the events of fifth year, a new adventure awaits for Norah Lee. Boys, exams, school events, common room parties, and old foes outside of Hogwarts. Even battling pensieve guardians was easier than this.

Main Pair: OC / Ominis Gaunt Genre: Adventure/Angst/Fluff (it's a little of everything, tbh)

KEEP IN MIND: Characters are aged up (even if the story's got them in sixth year) to make it more appropriate. Time period is leaning towards the modern day so in case you might find anachronisms in the dialogue or references, this is why. This may also be quite a lengthy fic too.

BE WARNED: Social anxiety, mentions of blood and injury, grief, drinking, kissing but nothing more than that, death (this is Hogwarts Legacy, after all)

P.P.S: Norah and Ominis being idiots Part 3. This is also quite a short chapter.

Masterlist

Chapter 21

Norah and Natty were in Diagon Alley the next day, both of them keen on restocking their supplies of combat plants and some potions. The two of them were alert and well enough to go out for the day as many, if not most, of their fellow students were now nursing hangovers from the night before. Henry had taken it upon himself to check on Amit, with Norah offering to let him rest in the Room of Requirement. She had even told Deek to send food in case they got hungry while he was there to which the house elf happily agreed.

"It's nice to hang out again, without the boys around," Natty said, as they crossed the bridge to the Magic Neep. "Amit should keep Henry busy for a while. It was nice of you to let him study in your Room of Requirement."

Norah shrugged at the thought. "He's been overwhelmed lately, and afraid of telling both Nellie and Samantha that he's not prioritizing a relationship right now."

Natty nodded, finally understanding Amit's sudden urge to get drunk the night before. "Henry did mention something to me about how Amit was feeling with all the romantic attention."

The Slytherin girl was amused. "Look at you and Henry, already acting like a married couple and we haven't even left Hogwarts yet," She teased, making Natty blush. "At least two people among us are happy."

Natty shook her head profusely. "I told myself that I would never be that kind of person who would always be so preoccupied with their relationship that they forget their friends. Romantic relationships may come and go, but friendships are the most valuable."

"Right," Norah teased some more, making Natty nudge her. "But you are right," She added as they entered the Hogsmeade Graveyard to visit the mausoleum where Professor Fig and his wife were buried. Lodgok's grave was also next to the mausoleum.

"What about you and Ominis? Have you told him how you felt?" It was Natty's turn to tease.

Norah shook her head. "I don't think it's worth it," She said, suddenly remembering their conversation during the party before they were interrupted. "But..I found out that it wasn't Anne that he was interested in."

Natty's eyes widened. "You did? He told you?"

"Mhmm," Norah hummed. "He said it wasn't Anne, but he didn't say who it was. So I know but at the same time I don't."

As she laid down some flowers she picked nearby, she spotted a flicker of light coming from another mausoleum. Norah turned her attention back to the graves before them, only to hear a faint ruckus coming from the same mausoleum. She nudged Natty, who seemed to be noticing the same thing. The two girls exchanged looks and quietly stepped out of the mausoleum, hands in their pockets poised to take out their wands as they approached the entrance.

"The Tomb of the Villager," Norah said, hearing that faint ruckus coming from inside. "I cleared this out of Ashwinders last year, who might be coming back here now?"

Natty shrugged. "With Harlow on the loose again and restarting his cause, I wouldn't put it past him to revisit old haunts, like this supposed tomb."

"Could Harlow be hiding out down there? There's nothing much to be seen except those rising columns," Norah was curious.

"We can't know for sure, but this is a good place to set up a secret hideout," Natty pointed out. She turned to Norah. "Shall we go in and find out?"

Norah thought for a moment. "As much as I would like to immediately go in there and give them a piece of my mind, I think we need to keep watch before we make any move. Officer Singer might try and keep us out of this if she finds out."

"She is incredibly unfit for her job, I have to admit."

"I suggest we keep observing this until we know more. We can tell the boys what's going on," Norah explained. "In the meantime, let's go back to the castle."

"Good idea," Natty agreed. "It won't hurt to have a disillusionment charm with an invisibility potion on hand though."

Norah laughed as they left the graveyard. "Make it a dozen vials."

~

Norah and Natty returned to the Room of Requirement that afternoon to see Sebastian and Ominis already there, sitting by the multiple potions stations while avoiding the large vat that was the dung composter. As Norah had suspected, Deek did indeed summon food from the kitchens to be laid out for the boys. Henry, on the other hand, was hunched over one of the tables, his bag, along with his books and journal, were splayed out in front of him next to a glass of water.

Sebastian was seated at Norah's desk, where she kept all the letters and notes she found in fifth year. "We came as soon as we got your owl," He looked over at them as Amit was already helping himself to some food to cure his hangover. "Ashwinders going into that mausoleum in Hogsmeade?" He was confused.

"Yes, we were wondering the same thing, especially as Norah already cleared that place out last year," Natty nodded. "I think they're using it as a hideout of some sort, but from what Norah told me, that place is a little too small to house those people."

"Then there must be something more to that tomb," Amit suddenly spoke in between bites of food. "Like a secret passage."

"Thinking about it, the graveyard is close to the Hog's Head, and behind the Hog's Head is the cellar that was an Ashwinder lair," Natty recalled.

Norah sensed where this was going. "With Harlow's lot trying to look back into the goblin mines, could they have used the drills to... maybe..."

"Underground tunnels?" Ominis tilted his head at them. "Could they be that smart to think of burrowing further underground?"

"It makes sense that they'd do that. Possibly connect the tunnels to the Ashwinder camp. They'd have two points of entry," Norah agreed. "It would make it easier for them to mobilize. But if they do that, Hogsmeade would be in danger."

Their expressions fell at the thought. "An Ashwinder-run Hogsmeade? That would be terrible," Amit shuddered. "What makes it even worse is how close it is to Hogwarts."

"I think they are counting on it being close to Hogwarts for the very reasons we heard in Horklump Hollow," Norah glanced at Sebastian, who remembered their little trip. "Harlow is looking to retaliate and restart the empire he built with Rookwood."

Ominis felt a pang of anxiety, while Henry sat up. "You mean Harlow is coming for you? Again?" The Ravenclaw boy questioned.

"Possibly. And he might come after Natty too, since we were the ones he faced in Manor Cape that night," Norah glanced at Natty, who nodded. "So, hear me out for a bit, I'll have to do the investigating on my own-"

Unsurprisingly, it was met with objections from most of the people in the room. Even Amit, who they knew to be especially cautious and timid, voiced his objection. "Norah, I think you're underestimating how much we can protect ourselves and help you. You're only one person," Sebastian said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I know you can. Truly, I do. I was actually thinking of being the lure. I'm the trap you guys can spring onto Harlow and those Ashwinders. If they try and get to me, that will be your chance of striking, does it make sense?" Norah explained with some uncertainty. "So if they see me doing all of this on my own, they won't see the rest of you coming. They know I have friends, but they don't know you guys will also be there to trap them."

"Oh, so we're moving in the shadows, eh?" Henry grinned. "That's awfully sneaky of us. I like it."

"Something like that," Norah shrugged. "So, what do you think?"

They all nodded in approval. "That's a much better plan," Ominis said. "So, what do you plan on doing now?"

"I was thinking of observing for any activity nearby whenever I'm in Hogsmeade. It might be too risky to go in there without drawing attention, so best be discreet for now," Norah explained.

That made Amit think. "We usually stop by 's before we go astronomy table hunting, right? We can do that too."

"Things like this can take time. Unless someone gets to Harlow again before we do, we'll have to wait to find out more for now," The Slytherin girl shrugged. "I have a feeling Sirona and others might tell us again to stay out of it, but if Harlow is set on endangering people once more, we might have to get involved."

Her words were followed by hums of agreement. There was still time to look through the rest of the abandoned loyalist mines to find out more information on the work Isidora and Bragbor had done. Norah wished that Ranrok hadn't killed Lodgok. If he were still alive, or at the very least, spared by the goblin warlord, Lodgok would've provided them with some insight into their ancestor. Seeing as both of them were now dead, Norah needed to keep searching for a lead.

~

All of them opted to have dinner at the Room of Requirement that night. Deek was more than happy to tidy up and send for more food. The air in the room was different, filled with the excitement and anticipation of the plan Norah hatched. Amit was feeling considerably better by then, but remembering his whole situation all over again had him sulking.

"At this point, just tell them," Henry said with an exasperated sigh, making everyone at the table glance at him with concerned expressions on their faces. "You can't mope around forever, you'll have to make it clear to them about how you feel."

Ominis had a feeling Henry wasn't just saying that to Amit. "They won't want to be left hanging and wondering if you'll ever consider them," Norah added. "I remember, back when I studied in a muggle school, some girls would leave the classroom crying after being led on by the boys they liked."

"Norah's right," Natty agreed. "It will hurt, but I'm sure they will get over it."

Amit sat up. "I-well-I-it's not like I don't particularly like any of them. They're both great. I just need some time to think."

"Who would've thought Amit Thakkar was like this," Sebastian shook his head, with Henry agreeing.

"Alright, we won't press you on that anymore," Norah grinned, thinking of shifting the topic. "You know, my parents told me about this thing they did when they first met. In Japan, boys would give the person they liked the second button of their school shirt or blazer."

The rest of them were curious. "How odd. Why?" Henry was especially intrigued.

"Because it's the button closest to the heart," Norah revealed. "It usually happens at the end of term. I think it's really sweet."

Ominis tilted his head down, one hand already feeling the buttons at the bottom of his shirt. It didn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, whose expression fell slightly at the sight of it. Little did Ominis know, Sebastian also saw Norah fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

Following dinner, Deek immediately sought to clean up as most of them decided to leave while Norah took to tending to all the beasts in the vivariums. As she sat down in the meadowy vivarium to brush the puffskeins while dodging a surprise tongue from time to time, she wondered if what she was doing was the right thing.

She was going to risk detection again, and possibly end up in detention a lot, and maybe cost Slytherin hundreds of house points. But the cause was bigger, if she couldn't stop Harlow, who will?

Once she was done feeding and brushing the jobberknolls, she stepped out of the vivarium and went to the magical loom, weaving all the materials she got into the clothes she found during her latest treasure hunts. She would sell them all when she got to visit Hogsmeade again the following weekend.

What Natty asked her earlier in the graveyard stayed with her, about her telling Ominis how she felt about him. Maybe she could, there wasn't anything wrong about it, wasn't there?

She approached her desk, noticing the scattered notes that Sebastian looked through while he waited earlier. Luckily, he didn't get to see the thin wad of letters that Ominis sent her during Ronen's assignment, terrible poems and all. Norah sat down and a small object immediately caught her eye. It was placed at the very corner of the desk.

A button.

[reverend-dog]

Friendly Fire

Maya’s phone pinged for attention. Her heart thudded when she saw the source of the text.

“W R U?” An emoji of an unhappy face followed the letters, and the author’s name: Annabel.

Tell her. Set a trap.

The words whispered between Maya’s ears, so soft and insidious she almost believed they came from her own mind. But the images that came with the words – lying in wait, knife or rope in hand; plunging the blade into the back of Annabel’s neck, or cinching the rope around the same spot….

Maya sobbed under her breath, then glanced around to make sure nobody heard her. Then she tapped into her phone: “Taking a day. NW, c u l8r.” Disappointment dripped in the back of her mind, and the evil whisper insisted Go to her. Surprise her.

Shut up! Maya shouted inwardly. She perched on a bench outside the local library, visible only to early morning pedestrians out for a stroll along the walking path. She checked the time on her phone, compared it to the hours posted on the library door, and sighed. After a moment, she dug into her backpack, pulled out a textbook, and found the chapter currently assigned.

A foot scuffed the concrete behind Maya. Something about the timbre of the sound made her leap from the bench and spin. Textbook clutched in both hands against her chest, Maya stared. “Annabel,” she breathed.

Now’s your chance. Use the book!

Maya squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head with a grimace. Looking again, she watched a similar look of pain and effort cross Annabel’s face. The other girl opened her eyes, and offered an uncertain smile to Maya. “Thought I’d find you here,” she murmured.

Attack! Get her! Kill her! NownownownowNOW!

Maya shook her head and backed away, aware that she was also abandoning her backpack. “I… can’t be with you now, Annie,” she whined. Lies deserted her. “It’s not safe.”

“Why?” Annabel challenged. “Are you hearing it too?”

Maya stopped, blinked, and stared at Annabel. “You too?”

Annabel nodded, and again tried on a brave smile. “Started last night, after I got home. Any time I thought about you,” her lips trembled, “suddenly all I could think about was ways to kill you. Oh, Maya!” Her composure crumbled, and she sobbed. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,”Maya confessed. She felt in the middle of a tug of war, a lifetime of affection on one side, implacable homicidal rage on the other. “That’s why I ditched school and came here.” She waved a hand at the library doors. “Not only is this the only place I can stay and not get narc’ed on, but I hoped to find some answers.”

“God!” Annabel grabbed her skull with both hands. “Make it stop! I keep seeing – ways to --”

“I know,” Maya commiserated, “me too. And if we stay with each other, it’s going to be harder to ignore.” She turned away from Annabel and spoke over her shoulder. “Go to class, Annie. You can’t stand any more absences. I’ll take the hit, see what I can find.”

“But where are you even going to start?” Annabel argued. “What is this, shared psychosis? Extreme PMS? A curse?”

“That’s what I hope to figure out,” Maya told her. “But I’ll feel better, knowing my best friend at least won’t get suspended again. Go, Annie.”

Annabel sighed. “You’re right,” she conceded, “like always.” She hefted her backpack to settle the weight, paused, then jogged away.

Maya waited until she no longer heard Annabel’s footsteps, then exhaled relief as she returned to her seat. “Come on,” she urged time, and glowered at the library entrance.

Ten minutes before the hour, a sedan older than Maya’s grandparents pulled into the lot and parked. A hulking figure unfolded from the driver’s seat and walked to the entrance, shaking a ring of keys. At the door they paused, key just touching the lock, then turned. “Good morning, Maya,” greeted an alto voice full of Northeast drawl.

Maya gathered her backpack and left her hiding place. “Good morning, Ms. Fitzangel. Um, I have a special assignment for, um, World Studies, and… um….”

Ms. Fitzangel smiled and wagged a long finger in mock reproach. “The best part of always telling the truth,” she recited, “is you never have to worry about keeping your story straight.”

Maya nodded and bowed her head. “You’re right,” she admitted, “I’m sorry.” She looked up to meet Ms. Fitzangel’s gaze. “It’s just, what’s happening, it’s, like too weird! If it weren’t happening to me, I wouldn’t believe it!”

Ms. Fitzangel turned and unlocked the door. “Well,” she declared, “let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

Maya trotted forward, then paused. “Um,” she hedged, “I don’t want you to get in trouble. It’s bad enough this is my first time skipping school!”

“I’m honored to be part of such an unprecedented occasion,” Ms. Fitzangel remarked, as she led the way into the library’s cavernous depths. Minimal lighting added a creepy atmosphere, but that vanished as Ms. Fitzangel flipped a switch. “While I open,” Ms. Fitzangel suggested, “why don’t you follow along and explain your conundrum?”

Maya did so. She forced herself to adopt the manner she used for oral presentations, an even, deliberate tone with conscientious enunciation. The exercise helped her ignore the whisper and the gruesome imaginings that seemed to grow bolder as she described their effects.

“What an absolutely horrible situation!” Ms. Fitzangel cried. “Certainly not a problem to be addressed in school!” She stopped in the middle of the library lobby and pressed an index finger against her chin as she surveyed the shelves. “Where to start, where to start… Ah!” She stuck the finger aloft and strode off, Maya in her wake.

They stopped among some shelves that looked taller than Maya thought the library could hold. A quick survey of her surroundings left Maya convinced she had never before visited this section of the library. Further, she realized the positioning of the shelves cut off any view of the lobby or windows.

“Look around,” Ms. Fitzangel encouraged. “Who knows what you might find? Excuse me,” she begged, “I must go tend the front desk.”

Maya scanned the shelves, and one title grabbed her attention right off: Curses – Avoidance, Identification, Removal. Maya heaved the ponderous volume from the shelf, and rested it on a table she could not swear had not been there all the time. Maya placed herself in a chair, opened the book, and traced a finger down the table of contents.

Time passed; how much, Maya had no clue. The book laid out its subject with all the certainty of a science book, describing construction, awareness, analysis, countermeasures. Maya started with the last, and a discovery there shunted her to analysis, and a plan began to form. Yesterday, Maya would have called it a crazy plan, but how quickly circumstances change!

Where to do it? Maya looked around, and shrugged. She drew the sigil on the table, using the yogurt from her lunch as fingerpaint. After a dry read under her breath, she chanted the words at the prescribed pitch and tempo. The air thickened with shadows, until Maya and the book stood alone in space, not even the floor visible.

Light flared to one side, and Maya saw Annabel in class. Her notebook lay open on her desk, but the words and images doodled on the page clearly held no academic relevance. Then Annabel’s head whipped around and stared directly at Maya. Annabel mouthed a vulgar question as she sprang upright and charged Maya, rage on her face, while her desk vanished behind her.

Maya uttered the phrase she’d found in the margins of the page, and Annabel froze midstep. Her eyes alternately glared and pleaded at Maya. Maya felt the curse between them like a slimy tentacle. The whisper now roared, and Maya felt a need in her hands, to curl into fists and rain blows, or clench around a throat and squeeze.

The next command opened shadows on another scene. Another girl seated at her desk, though from the lines and lines of concise notes in her notebook, she clearly found more interest in her subject than Annabel. Like Annabel, it took only a moment for the girl to turn her head and notice them. All three girls’ eyes widened in shock.

“What is this?” the third girl demanded, her desk fading into shadow as she stood.

“Asheleigh?” Annabel blurted. “You did this? Why?”

“How?” Maya added.

“How can you ask me that?” Asheleigh screeched at Annabel. “After you threw me over! For that!” She jerked her chin toward Maya. “Damn it, Annabel, I loved you!”

“Why did it have to be one or the other?” Annabel challenged. “Maya and I’ve been friends since forever! She was no threat to us!”

“She would have been!” Asheleigh warned. “Sooner or later, you’d have had to choose, and you already told me you’d never break up with her!” She sneered. “Well now, you two really deserve each other! I wonder who’ll kill who first?”

The mere suggestion made the voice howl, and Maya knew from Annabel’s face she felt the same torment. “Annie,” she gritted, “listen to me. We can break this thing, but it has to be together. Trust me, and follow my lead.”

“Gotcha,” Annabel managed without hesitation.

Maya took one more glance at the book, then raised her eyes and met Asheleigh’s glare. “Asheleigh Mariegh Picket,” she intoned, careful to pronounce every syllable of the girl’s name, “Do you renounce and remove the curse placed on Annabel Conner and Maya Carlos y Sepulveda?” “Never!” Asheleigh screeched. “I own the curse, and pledge my blood for its consummation! One of you must die by the other’s hand, and that one then has to live with blood on their hands!”

Maya grimaced and whispered to Annabel, “Really wish she hadn’t said that. That means if we break the curse, it could backfire on her.”

“And?” Annabel prompted.

“I don’t want to kill anybody!” Maya hissed. “Well, I do, but you know what I mean!”

“Maya,” Annabel muttered, “it’s her or us.”

Maya found herself unable to argue Annabel’s logic. “OK,” she conceded, “See those words?” She pointed at the book. “Read them along with me, and really mean it!”

The two girls chanted the words. Asheleigh raged, screamed at them, fought to break their rhythm. The voices in their heads shouted with her, shaking the walls of their minds. Under her recitation of the incantation, Maya felt a hunger rise, an appetite that would be sated only when Annabel’s heart gave its last beat. She countered with memories of Annabel and herself, laughing, playing, hanging out. SHARING.

The whisper sharpened to a howl, rising in pitch along with Asheleigh’s screamed invective. Maya felt blades shoved through her head, but she maintained the chant, bolstered by Annabel’s voice matching hers.

The screams sputtered, coughed, and died. Maya’s ears rang with the silence. She looked at Annabel, watched Annabel’s eyes meet hers, and in the void left by the departure of murderous rage, love, simple sororal love, flooded in. The two girls giggled, hugged, and ugly-cried with relief and affection as shadows drew back to reveal library shelves and tables.

Elsewhere, a classroom erupted in confusion and panic as a student slumped at her desk. Later tests would reveal Asheleigh Mareigh Picket had died of a cerebral hemorrhage, sudden and catastrophic.

[waiting-to-be-lost-at-sea]

Thiam AU Angst

Liam dies not because of Scott or Monroe or even a rogue hunter. Liam dies in a fire saving children. He dies and Theo can not blame anyone. Even when he obsesses over the many routes his little wolf could’ve taken, he realises it’s just all on bad luck.

The day they bury Liam, Theo doesn’t cry, the day Jenna and Dr.Geyer move out of Beacon Hills, urging him to come with them. He tells them he can’t leave Liam alone. They call him every two weeks and he answers because Liam isn’t there to reassure them that their fine.

The McCall pack reach out to him from time to time, Scott at first but later on Scott gets too busy. Theo doesn’t even care, nothing matters anymore. Lydia checks in on him each month, four months into Liam being gone he asks her why and she tells him the truth. Because Liam doesn’t want him doing anything stupid.

Malia had left Beacon Hills the week after Liam’s funeral, having punched him a few times and blaming him until Jenna had stopped her and told her to apologise. He understood her anger though, he should’ve been there for Liam.

Mason had been the worst. The rest of the puppy pack had all messaged him, visited him and FaceTimed him. But Mason had been bawling non-stop for four weeks until Theo had been asked to speak with him. Ever since than the two had promised to visit Liam’s grave at least once every month until it stopped hurting.

It was that day again, the first anniversary of Liam’s death. Theo had been waiting for Mason at the gates, even Fred the security guard had came over and talked with him.

“Theo?” Mason called out tentatively as if scared he would be wrong and Theo looked up from where he had been remembering the last moment he had with Liam.

Mason looked well, he was clean shaved and wearing a coat, it was winter and they were still a few days out from proper snow. Theo had acknowledged him, the two quietly making their way to Liam’s grave.

They stood there staring down at the engraved tombstone.

William Eugene Dunbar

03/24/1999 - 07/12/2022

“Y’know he would’ve been pissed to know we had his full name on the tombstone” Mason chuckled fondly. Theo didn’t say a word, suddenly feeling all too emotional. It was like something had been switched, as he fell to his knees.

Mason’s presence next to him, “Theo?”, “He was going to study History, maybe get into teaching, but he wanted to stay close to home” he gasped out.

Everything he had been holding back came out, like he had bottled everything up inside for far too long. As he tried to take deep breaths, “He wasn’t suppose to die like this, we were going to move out of Beacon Hills once we had saved enough” he cried out.

Mason didn’t say a word and Theo was grateful.

“I should’ve been with him that day, but I was picking up the rings, and he’s dead and I never even got to propose, I’ll never get that moment back”.

Theo began punching the ground beneath him, “It hurts, it’s like I can’t breathe without him, Mason please just make it stop” his tears falling down, his face blotchy and red.

His friend just stares at him, eyes sincere and as sad as he feels, “I can’t Theo, the hurt doesn’t stop, it’ll never stop”, “How am I suppose to go on without him?”.

Mason takes a moment, one moment and Theo stays quiet, “If it had been you, no listen to me, if it had been you, what would you have wanted Liam to do?”

Theo blinks at him, trying to process his question, it hits him and he shakes his head. “I can’t, I can’t do that”

“I’m not asking you to move on, that’s something you decide for yourself, I’m asking you to live, if not for yourself than for Liam, because it’s what you would’ve wanted for him”.

Mason stood up brushing himself off, he held a hand out, “cmon, buck up, this is Li’s first anniversary since his funeral, let’s make it a good one”.

Theo sees Mason’s hand, and for a moment it’s not Mason in front of him in the cold, it’s Liam smiling at him after a long day at work.

He takes the hand and gets pulled up. He and Mason dig up a small patch of grass on top of Liam’s grave and bury the velvet box Theo has had for just over a year.

Theo wears the matching ring on his finger and when anyone asks he says the love of his life is waiting for him on the other side.

~

“Oh he’s definitely a keeper” a blonde bombshell states over Liam’s shoulder. “Erica, stop embarrassing him” a brunette says from next to another taller and broader man who’s arm is around Erica’s shoulders.

“I think the ring looks nice, Dunbar” Boyd says as Liam looks down at his left hand. “Thanks, I think I’ll keep it for a while” he murmured happily.

[sparrow-mask22]

The Umbrella Academy Story of The Mothers (6/8) umbrella edition: Nayeon

(Please keep in mind that because they never say the name of Ben's mother in the show or on the wiki, I made the name up. And this also applies to the Sparrow timeline as well)

October 1, 1989. Seoul, South Korea.

Nayeon Chay (Eastern spelling: Chae Na-yeon) was a carefree teenager, enjoying her youth to the fullest. She was on the subway, riding with her boyfriend, Minho. They were sitting in the middle of the train, not bothering anyone, just being young and in love. The train lurched forward, throwing them both against each other, eliciting a giggle from Nayeon. She quickly recovered herself, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

The subway car was crowded, as usual, but Nayeon didn't mind the close quarters. She leaned into Minho, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. He put his arm around her, pulling her close, their bodies pressed together. They were lost in their own little world, oblivious to the chaos and commotion around them.

Nayeon was trained in noble arts such as, flower arrangements, calligraphy, and tea ceremonies. She had great aspirations to go to college abroad in Costa Rica to study these arts in depth. Her parents were very supportive of her dreams and encouraged her to follow her heart.

As the subway car rattled along, a strange sense of foreboding crept into the back of Nayeon's mind. The air felt thick and heavy, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. She glanced around, but everyone else seemed oblivious to the tension that had settled over the car. Her heart raced as she fought the urge to ask Minho if he noticed anything out of the ordinary.

The train screeched to a halt, throwing them both forward in their seats. Nayeon gasped, her heart racing even faster. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling. Minho looked around, confusion written all over his face. "I don't know," he said, his voice shaking.

"Rush hour's always like this," a man sitting nearby offered in halting English. He was Japanese, Nayeon could tell by his features. "Just ignore them. They'll get us where we're going soon enough."

Nayeon nodded, trying to reassure herself. Minho glanced at her, then back at the man, before leaning back against the seat. The train jerked forward again, and the crowd began to disperse, moving to leave the car. Nayeon and Minho stood up, following the flow of bodies, and made their way to the exit. As they stepped onto the platform, she could feel the weight of the station pressing down on her. The air was thick with an almost palpable sense of foreboding.

"Are you sure you want to go to Costa Rica?" Minho asked her suddenly, concern etched into his features. "What if something happens to you while you're there? Your parents would never forgive me."

Nayeon was taken aback by his sudden change in tone. "What do you mean?" she asked, confusion clouding her thoughts. "Why would you say that?"

Minho hesitated, his gaze darting around the platform before meeting her eyes again. "I've been feeling... uneasy about it lately," he admitted. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Nayeon. You're too important to me."

Nayeon bit her lip, struggling to understand why Minho was acting so strangely. She'd never considered not going to Costa Rica. It was her dream, her passion. She wanted to study and learn from the best teachers in the world. "But Minho, I've always wanted to go there. It's my chance to really pursue what I love. Don't you want me to be happy?"

Minho looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "Of course I do, Nayeon. It's just... I don't want to lose you. I can't imagine my life without you." He reached out and took her hand in his, his grip tightening.

"Like the grilled squid we had last night, our lives have been intertwined since the beginning, Nayeon," Minho said, his voice tinged with sadness. "And just like how the squid loses its identity when it's grilled, I feel like I'm losing a part of myself if you leave."

Nayeon bit her lip, feeling the weight of Minho's words press down on her. "But Minho, I need to go. It's my chance to become the dancer I've always wanted to be. You know that."

He looked into her eyes, his expression pained. "I know, Nayeon. I just... I can't help feeling like I'm losing you. Like the squid that gets grilled and loses its identity. It's selfish of me, I know. But I can't help it."

Nayeon studied Minho's face, her heart aching for him. She knew how much he loved her, how much he supported her dreams. But she also knew that she couldn't abandon her own aspirations for his sake. "I'll be careful, Minho," she said softly. "I promise to come back to you. And I'll always be your Nayeon, no matter where I-" and then the twelfth hour of the day struck, and the ground beneath her shifted, the world tilting on its axis.

Nayeon felt her heart skip a beat as she registered the sound of Minho's voice. The world around her seemed to slow down, as if time itself was conspiring to grant her a moment of clarity. She looked into Minho's eyes, and in that brief instant, she knew. She was pregnant. Not just pregnant, but nine months pregnant, ready to give birth. The weight of the knowledge pressed down on her, heavy and inescapable.

"Nayeon!? Nayeon!? Are you alright!?" Minho's panicked voice cut through the air as he rushed to her side. The world around them seemed to fade into the background, the only thing that mattered was the woman before him. She was pale, clutching her stomach, her eyes wide with shock and fear. He reached out, his hands trembling as he gently touched her cheek. "Nayeon, what's wrong?"

Nayeon's breath came out in ragged gasps as the pain coursed through her, a white-hot fire licking at her insides. Minho's face, mere inches from hers, was a mask of fear and confusion. She tried to speak, to tell him what was happening, but all that came out was a keening wail. The world around them seemed to fade into the background, the only thing that mattered was the overwhelming need to push, to expel this alien presence that had taken up residence within her.

Other women on the train began swarming around Nayeon and Minho, offering their help, but Nayeon barely registered their presence. All she could focus on was the pain, the burning sensation in her lower back, the tightening of her abdomen. Minho held her close, his face etched with worry as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. The train lurched forward, picking up speed as it raced towards the next station. Time seemed to stand still as Nayeon fought against the overwhelming urge to push, to give in to the primal instincts that were taking over her body.

Some of the women on the train had already given birth, and they began to offer Nayeon their words of wisdom, their own personal stories of survival. They told her to focus on her breathing, to find a rhythm that would help her push through the pain. As the train sped towards the hospital, Nayeon's water broke, sending a gush of warm fluid down her legs. Minho looked on, terrified and helpless, as his love fought for their child's life.

The pain intensified with each passing moment, and Nayeon felt as if her body was being torn apart. She knew that she had to push, that she had to give birth to their child, no matter what the cost. The women on the train coached her, their voices a soothing balm against the fire raging inside her. They helped her shift into positions that would make it easier to deliver her baby, their hands gentle but firm as they guided her through the ordeal.

Minho was by her side the entire time, his eyes never leaving her face. He wiped the sweat from her brow, kissed her forehead, and whispered words of love and encouragement in her ear. She could feel his heart racing against her own, their bodies moving in sync as they fought against the relentless waves of pain.

The pain seemed to reach a crescendo, and with a primal scream, Nayeon pushed with all her might. The train lurched forward, the motion forcing her body into an even deeper contraction. Minho held her close, his arms trembling from the effort, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. She felt a burning sensation between her legs, and with one final push, their child slid free from her body.

"It’s a boy!" one of the women on the train exclaimed, holding the newborn up for Nayeon to see. Minho's face broke into a relieved smile as he gazed down at their child, tears streaming down his cheeks. The boy let out a weak wail, his tiny fists clenched as if already fighting for his place in the world. Nayeon reached out, her fingers trembling as she touched her son's soft, downy hair.

The women on the train continued to buzz around them, offering congratulations and advice. They wrapped the baby in a blanket they had brought along and helped Nayeon into a more comfortable position. Minho, meanwhile, was still holding her close, his arms trembling with relief and exhaustion. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips trembling as he whispered, "You did it. You're a hero."

Nayeon looked down at her son, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't believe it: they had made it. They were both alive. She remembered the fear, the pain, the desperation of those past few hours, and it all seemed like a nightmare now. Minho held her close, his heart still racing from the ordeal, his face etched with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

She gazed up at Minho, her eyes filled with wonder and love. He looked back at her, his own eyes shining with tears of joy and relief. They held each other's gaze for what felt like an eternity, their hearts still racing from the ordeal, their bodies exhausted but alive. Around them, the women on the train continued to coo over the newborn, marveling at his resilience and their own shared triumph.

Nayeon cradled her newborn son in her arms, her heart swelling with love and pride. Minho sat beside her, his eyes never leaving their child as he ran a trembling hand through his sweat-dampened hair. The women on the train continued to coo over the baby, offering words of wisdom and advice, their presence a comforting reminder that they were not alone in this journey.

Her heart swelled with love as she gently tickled the edges of her son's soft, round belly (where the portal is) with her fingertips. The tiny muscles beneath her fingertips fluttered, and he let out a gurgled laugh that made her heart melt.

Nayeon smiled down at him, "Someone's a little ticklish, isn't he?" She continued to gently tickle her son's belly, watching as his tiny hands fluttered and his little legs kicked in response. The laugh that erupted from him was infectious, filling the cramped train compartment with a joyous sound that made even the weariest of eyes sparkle.

Minho couldn't help but chuckle as well, his gaze drifting down to the newborn's face. "You really are something else, aren't you?" he murmured, brushing a lock of hair away from the baby's forehead. "You've already got your mother wrapped around your finger."

Nayeon smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Well, I'd be foolish not to," she said, continuing to tickle her son's belly. "He's just so cute, isn't he?"

Around them, the women on the train nodded in agreement, their faces softening as they watched the baby laugh in response to his mother's tickles. The sound of laughter filled the cramped compartment, replacing the tension and fear that had been so thick only hours ago. Minho leaned in, unable to resist joining in the gentle teasing as he gently tickled the baby's belly as well. "Oh, are we ticklish now?" he asked with a grin.

The baby's laughter grew louder, his tiny body squirming and kicking as he seemed to enjoy the attention. Nayeon looked up at Minho, her cheeks flushed with warmth. "You're really good at that," she said, still stroking her son's back. "I think he likes you."

That night, Nayeon's family was already gawking over the baby as soon as they reached their village. The news of his birth and the miracle that had saved them had spread like wildfire throughout the small community. Everyone was in awe of the newborn's resilience and the strength of the bond between Nayeon and Minho. The women oohed and aahed over the baby, cooing words of encouragement and offering their advice on how to raise him. The men, too, were taken aback by the story, exchanging looks of disbelief and admiration as they shared whispers about the incredible events that had transpired.

Her mother, Suk-Ja, took the baby from Nayeon's arms, gently cradling him in her own. She was proudly showing him off to everyone, telling them how strong he was, how he had survived against all odds. Nayeon smiled at her mother's doting, feeling a newfound appreciation for the woman who had raised her. She glanced over at Minho, who was talking with his father and brothers, their voices low and serious as they discussed the events of the past few days.

"You know," Suk-Ja said, rocking the baby gently in her arms, "you two have been through so much together. It's a true testament to the bond between husband and wife." Nayeon looked down at the ground, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. She couldn't deny the closeness she felt with Minho now, after everything they'd been through.

Suddenly, one of Nayeon’s siblings, U-jin, who had been standing nearby, let out a gasp. "Eomma, somebody's at the door!" He sprinted toward the entrance of the house, leaving the group of women momentarily confused. "Who could it be?" Suk-Ja asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "It's so late..."

As U-jin returned, leading an unfamiliar man into the main room, the group fell silent. The man was tall and lanky, his hair a mess of gray and black, and his clothes were eloquent in their disarray. He stumbled slightly as he walked, as if he had traveled far and fast. His eyes were fixed on Nayeon, and there was an unmistakable look of relief and determination in them. "Reginald," he gasped, "it's been too long."

Reginald  said something in English that the family didn’t understand. He touches the baby on his forehead and chest, muttering words under his breath. Realizing the family doesn’t understand him, he switches from English to Korean. "How much do you want for him? I'll give you whatever you want." His eyes dart around the room, as if he's trying to gauge the value of the child.

Hearing this asshole wanting to buy her grandchild, Suk-Ja's blood boiled. She snatched a nearby knife from the counter and pointed it at Reginald's chest. "Stay back," she warned, her voice trembling with rage. "You lay one finger on my grandson, I slice you into pieces." Her eyes darted between Reginald and the baby, her grip on the knife unyielding.

The other family members gasped, their eyes wide with shock and admiration as they watched the scene unfold. Reginald's expression changed from one of desperation to one of awe, his gaze fixed on Suk-Ja. Her knife, held steady and sure, was not a threat to him now; it was a symbol of strength, resilience, and unwavering love.

"You're right," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the pounding of their hearts. "He deserves nothing but the best. I'm not here to take him away from you. I just want to make sure he's given every opportunity in life." His eyes found Nayeon's, and for a moment, they held each other's gaze. There was an understanding there, a shared connection that transcended their differences.

"I can give him a home," Reginald continued, "a good education, the best doctors in the world. I can give him a life of comfort and adventure. I know that money can't buy everything, but I promise you, I will love him with all that I am." He paused, taking a deep breath, before adding, "He'll have five siblings (or a brother in another life) who will adore him, and who will grow up together, learning from each other, sharing their joys and sorrows. He'll have the chance to travel the world, to see the beauty that this life has to offer, and to experience things that most people only dream of."

Suk-Ja listened intently, her grip on the knife loosening slightly. She glanced at Nayeon, who seemed to be lost in thought. The grandmother could see the conflicting emotions playing across her daughter's face: the love she felt for her child, the desire to give him a better life, and the fear of losing him.

Until a small dextrous tentacle shot out from the baby's fleshy belly, wrapping around Suk-Ja's finger. The old woman let out a gasp of surprise, but her grip on the knife didn't waver. The tentacle was cold and slimy, and it squeezed gently around her finger, as if seeking comfort or reassurance.

"I didn’t know I was pregnant when I ate that grilled squid!" Nayeon cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "I swear I'd never do anything to hurt him. I just wanted a better life for us, that's all!"

"And you can, Nayeon," Reginald said gently, taking a step forward. "You can give him all of those things. You can give him a life full of love, adventure, and opportunity. But not by yourself. Not if you have to choose between him and your dreams." He placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice firm but reassuring.

Suk-Ja watched the interaction between the two young people, her heart torn in two. She knew that Nayeon was right; their family was poor, and they would never be able to give their child the life that Reginald could. But the thought of losing her grandson, of never seeing his face again, was unbearable.

"But Nayeon, I must warn you," Reginald said, his voice lowering to a graveled whisper. "If you were to attempt to contact the child, to try and find him... You will pay the ultimate penalty. There will be no forgiveness. You must understand that."

Nayeon's eyes widened with fear, her breath hitching in her throat. She looked up at the man, searching his face for any hint of deceit. But all she saw was genuine concern and care. She knew he was telling her the truth.

Suk-Ja watched the exchange between them, her heart heavy with the weight of their decision. She could see the conflict playing out on her daughter's face: the love she felt for her child, the desire to protect him, and the fear of losing him.

"I understand," Nayeon finally whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I won't try to find him. I promise." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her child once more. "But please, let me keep this," she begged, reaching out to touch the slimy tentacle that had wrapped around her grandmother's finger. "Just let me have this one small piece of him."

Suk-Ja felt her own tears welling up in response. She knew how much it would mean to Nayeon to have something of her grandson. But she also knew the risks. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be strong for her daughter. "Very well," she said, reluctantly. "You may keep it."

Nayeon let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping in relief. With trembling hands, she reached out and carefully detached the tentacle from her son's flesh. As she held it close, the slimy appendage twitched softly, as if it were alive. Nayeon's child cried as the tentacle was severed from his body, and the sound pierced her heart like a dagger. She bit her lip, fighting back tears as she pressed the tentacle to her chest.

"He'll be fine," Reginald assured her, his voice gentle. "He'll grow up strong and healthy. He'll have all the love and opportunity in the world. You'll see."

(If he lives past 17 you’ll be very lucky to see him again.)

Nayeon and Minho watched as the distance between them and their son grew larger with each passing moment. She clutched the tentacle tightly, feeling as though it were the last thread connecting her to her child. The boat carrying them away disappeared around a bend in the river, leaving only the sound of the waves and the cries of sea birds.

[borntobearat]

This is Shrek x lord farqhar fan fiction

Ever since he was young, Shrek had been ostracized. He was hunted down like an animal. He had never gotten caught, until now.

farquhar sat in his throne room, surrounded by his courtiers. Suddenly, his general burst in.

“WE GOT ‘IM” farqhars general screeched.

farqhar's huge hazel orbs widened in surprise, they couldn't have captured Shrek. He had been waiting for this day for 25 years. The large green ogre was supposedly impossible to catch. farqhar would not have even dared to attempt a capture if not for one thing, the two were soulmates.

farqhar's family was blessed with the ability to see soulmate marks. When farqhar's father was out riding one day, he spotted a young ogre. Hev0 would have ignored the ogre, but he spotted a mark. A mark identical to the soulmate mark his own young son had on his forehead. Farqhars father gasped in surprise. He needed to bring back this ogre boy to his son. Farqhars father failed over and over and over. He did not tell anyone about the mark but his son.

farqhar rushed to the room where his soulmate was being held, excitement flooding through him. He could not believe what was happening. The love of his life was not more than 5 meters away from him. He waved away the guards and ran into the room where Shrek was being held.

The smell of blood and human/ogre waste hit him in the face like a dump truck. In the middle of the dark dingy cell, he saw a large green ogre. He was unconscious and brutally injured. farqhar's eyes filled with hot tears.he screamed for his general.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE” farqhar screamed. Pushing sobs back down his throat

“GET HIM TO THE DOCTOR! NOW!”

farqhar's general was terrified, he had never seen this level of anger from his ruler. He meekly called the palace doctor to heal the large ogre.

farqhar sat in the cold hospital on a chair. He was waiting by shreks bed. He studied every inch of his beloved's cold, waxy face. His face looked as though it was carved out of green candle wax. farqhar felt the urge to reach out and touch shreks face. He looked around furtively. He reached a trembling hand out and stroked shreks warm cheek. He cupped the larger man's cheek with his small, dainty hand. He ran his hands over the mark on shreks forehead. Just then shreks eyes fluttered open.

“w-w-where a-am i?” Shrek stammered. He laid eyes on lord farqhar. His eyes widened in recognition. “LORD farqhar!” He shouted. “P-P-PLEASE LET ME G-GO”

farqhar stroked shreks cheek ”you are hurt”

Tears filled shreks eyes, he moved to injure farqhar but stopped at the last second. “I- why can’t i hit you?” Shrek asked farqhar.

“Because…. We are soulmates” farqhar whispered.

Shrek screamed in shock and agony. He could not believe it lord farqhar, the man he had spent the last century escaping, was HIS SOULMATE!???!?!?!?!?!?!?

Shrek passed out from the shock of the revelation

farqhar felt tears coming to his eyes. He had made his soulmate cry and pass out. He had hurt his soulmate. He did not deserve the delicious cut of muscular green meat that was shrek. But the universe had gifted shrek to him, and he loved Shrek. All of farqhar's heart and soul belonged to shrek, because they were in love. And eventually, shreks heart and soul would belong to farqhar.

farqhar rushed back to his chamber. Making plans for the next day. Although his soulmate was not in the best condition he was there with the small petite man. That made farqhars heart light up with joy. As he was musing about his soulmate his door burst open and his maid ran in. “M..m..m..master! The beast hungers!”

“HES NOT A BEAST” farqhar screeched.

The Maid looked at him, horrified. “ you have turned into a beast too…”

farqhar walked into shreks room as 3 large, muscular soldiers ran out in fear. “Sh-sh-shrek?” He asked.

“GRAWWWAEERRRSAAAAL” a huge groan emanated from shreks voluptuous stomach.

Shrek posed with his hands in the air ready to attack. However, when he saw his soulmates fragile and delicate body, he paused. “I’m hungry…” he said quietly. Shocked by this sudden change in demeanor, farqhar stumbled back.

“O..of course” farqhar said meekly, smiling at his great green lover.

“What do you eat?” farqhar wondered aloud.

“I… i like mushrooms?” Shrek stammered.

“Mushrooms it is!” farqhar smiled.

He rushed down to the palace kitchen and ordered a large variety of mushroom dishes - stewed, steamed, fried, boiled and dried.

Shreks large brown eyes widened in delight. He grabbed the plate and dug in. A few minutes into his mushroom eating spree, he remembered the man who had brought him the mushrooms. “D…do you want some?” He said shyly.

farqhars eyed the mushroom that his soulmate was offering him. He took it out of shreks hand. He reached it toward his his mouth, before suddenly pressing it onto shreks green lips. He leaned into shreks ear and whispered “how could i deny you of your favourite food?” Shrek opened his mouth in shock, eating the mushroom in the process.

“I would rather have you eat it…” shrek muttered “it tastes good”

“Really?”

“Yeah”

farqhar kissed shrek on the mouth. Tasting the mushroomy flavor of shreks mouth. Underneath the mushroomy taste, farqhar could taste a sweet, honey like flavour. He leaned into the kiss savouring shreks delicious, fresh taste. He loved this man.

“What else do you like?” farqhar asked in a Low voice.

“Well, i like onions, mushrooms and… you”

farqhar's face turned tomato red.

“Well… it seems i like tomatoes now” shrek teased

Unbenounced to Shrek and farqhar, there was a shadowy figure watching them. He narrowed his eyes in jealousy. The mans handsome face contorted in anger and jealousy. His tousled brown hair glistened in the light as he stepped forward.

“farqhar!” He said loudly “how are you!” The stranger flashed a winning smile.

“R…raffles!” farqhar exclaimed. “You aren’t supposed to be back in Singapore until next month!”

“Well, i simply couldn’t help seeing you” raffles smirked

farqhar inadvertently blushed

“And who is this?” Raffles glanced at shrek with disdain. Shrek felt a pang of jealousy at farqhars blushed face.

“This is my…” would shrek be ok with him telling raffles about their relationship? What was their relationship? “This is shrek” farqhar decided.

Shrek had expected farqhar to call him his lover or his … boyfriend?

But no, he was just shrek. Maybe farqhar wasn’t serious? Maybe he thought of shrek as a “friend with benefits” tears sprung to shreks eyes. Raffles noticed shreks watery eyes and smiled malevolently. “Well, nice to meet you… shirt?” Pleased, raffles stalked out of the room

“It’s shrek…” farqhar mumbled after him.

Shreks face turned a deep olive green. However, he couldn’t shake the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Did farqhar really not consider him a lover? Was farqhar just using him for his body?

“Uh… do you wanna continue what we were doing?” a flush crawled onto farqhars face.

“Oh, well im tired” shrek said, slightly upset.

“Oh” farqhar sensed that shrek was upset. “Ill leave then”

This confirmed all of shreks feelings, farqhar didnt actually want him. Unless they were doing something, farqhar wasn’t interested. He was probably interested in that raffles man. Of course he was. Raffles wore short skirts. Shrek wore t-shirts. Raffles was cheer captain and shrek was on the bleachers. He was waiting for the day farqhar would wake up and find that what he was looking for had been here the whole time. If farqhar could see that shrek was the one who understood him. Been here all along so why couldn’t he see, farqhar belonged with Shrek. He belonged with him

farqhar stalked out of shreks room, he chewed his rosy lip in frustration. Why was shrek upset? Didn’t he know that they were soulmates? Raffles would never get in between them! farqhar seethed at raffleses outrageous disrespect of shrek and made a mental note to define his relationship with shrek.

farqhar sat in his room, contemplating going to see shrek, before he could make up his mind, raffles stalked into his room.

“Hey there darling” raffles said in a Low and sultry voice. farqhar involuntarily blushed.

“Dont call me that…” he murmured.

“Oh? But you used to like it so so soo much” raffles practically moaned. He got closer to farqhars ear until it looked like they were kissing each other. Just then, shrek burst in. Neither of them noticed him until he let out a scream of pain.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?!?!?!?!?!” Shrek shrieked.

“Wait!” farqhar shouted “its not what it-“

Shrek cut him off “YOU LISTEN TO ME!!!! YOU TORE ME FROM MY HOME SAYING YOU LOVED ME AND JUST WHEN I STARTED TO BELIEVE YOU, YOU BETRAY ME!!!!! NOW YOU HAVE TWO OPTIONS, EITHER YOU LET ME GO QUIETLY, OR I TAKE OUT HALF THE CASTLE AS I GO!!” As soon as he said that, shrek tore out of the castle sobbing. How had he trusted the man who had him kidnapped to be faithful? How could he have been so stupid?

In the castle, farqhar sobbed. He should have rebuked raffles, he should have stopped shrek, he should have- he should have-. He could go to shreks swamp….

His eyes lit up with glee. He ran out of the castle, not caring about raffles or his carriage or his responsibilities. All he cared about was shrek, the love of his life.

farqhar sped to shreks swamp, incurring seven scratches and injuries along the way. He wandered the woods, running aimlessly until he came upon footprints. Shreks footprints. He followed the footprints until he reached shreks hovel. He took in all the signs that said keep out and wondered if this was the universe giving him a sign to not enter. Despite this, he carried on to the love of his life. He cautiously entered the home only to hear loud sobbing, his heart clenched at the noises, knowing that he was the cause for them. He almost began sobbing himself

farqhar wondered how to approach the love of his life, he rushed forwards and embraced shrek. Shrek pushed him away and said “what do you want from me??”

Despite his sharp words, his tone lacked bite. farqhar explained that raffles was not kissing him, even if he had farqhar would not have enjoyed it. He promised to have a talk with raffles. Shrek gave farqhar a watery smile “am i still welcome at the palace?”

“Of course my dear”

When they returned to the palace farqhar confronted raffles, “ I dont want you, i love shrek and if you dont stop coming onto me i will quit my job and expose the fact that i discovered singapore and not you! You are nothing but a prostitute!”

“No!” Raffles cried out “ you wouldn’t! You better say sorry!”

“I would” farqhar said grimly

“Well… you couldn’t if i… locked you up” raffles realised “GUARDS!!!!!” He shrieked

“TAKE THIS TRAITOR TO THE CELLS”

farqhar was dragged to a damp and dingy cell. There was stinking water dripping from the ceiling, or perhaps the smell was coming from the bucket in the corner of the cell. Or maybe from the pile of hay which he assumed was his bed. It was most likely that it was all of the above. He could feel the grime in the air settling on his skin. he was alone in the cell, except for the rats squeaking he was all alone. A deep feeling of loneliness fell over him like a thick, stinking blanket.

Shrek was waiting in nervous anticipation for the love of his life to return when he heard raffles screeching, he gasped. How could he have let this happen, he should have gone with farqhar and ensured his love's safety. Just then, he heard the guards talking amongst themselves. “Great, now we have to feed another idiot in the dungeon, and its that stuck up farqhar too.” shrek prickled at his lover being called an idiot, but he was glad for the clue on where farqhar was.

farqhar tried to think of an escape plan, seated in his damp and dingy cell. However the dampness was horrifically distracting. He was frustrated to the point of tears. When he saw shreks olive green figure, he thought he was hallucinating out of desperation. His eyes involuntarily fluttered shut, giving in to the heat of his mind.

Shrek cupped his lovers cheek. A feverish blush could be seen, his skin was tacky with sweat and other assorted grime. His heart ached to see farqhar this way. He carried his lover out of the castle and gently placed him in his decadent onion carriage “i will be back soon my love” he whispered he stalked back into the palace

Raffles was sitting in his study, working on paperwork. He couldn’t focus on his work. He heard a smash coming from the door. Shrek burst into the room. Raffles gasped in shock. He was surprised by the massive figure looming over him. Shrek lunged at raffles and they tussled with each other. The larger man easily winning. Raffles was left bruised and bloodied in his office. Shrek returned to his onion carriage, where Farquhar was asleep. He stroked his cheek and started the carriage

Shrek took farqhar away, back to his swamp. They had a ogre style wedding and lived happily ever after. The end (or is it? It is)

https://www.ricemedia.co/current-affairs-commentary-stamford-raffles-monster-bicentennial/ < — :(

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 58 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

Simon

'Blood. It's Vince's blood.'

He halted in his tracks before looking down at it apprehensively.

The scent was fading, but we spotted another one just a couple of yards away.

Despite the nerves, we continued on, following the trail of blood until a low growl emerged from the bushes on our left.

I barely had time to react as a feral rogue jumped out from behind a tree.

Foaming at the mouth, the wolf lunged toward us, his eyes crazed as he bared his canines.

Before I could even react, Xavier had snarled, grabbing the wolf's neck in his maw before flinging him away.

Behind the rogue, two other crazed wolves appeared from the tree line.

Xavier growled at the three, lowering his head with his hackles raised.

I moved closer to him, baring my teeth as well as I heard the sound of more wolves approaching.

'Go,' he told me.

'I'll handle them, go follow the trail.'

'Xavier?'

'Go find Vince.'

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye before addressing the wolves again.

'He needs you, go. I'll catch up to you.'

Hesitantly, I stepped away and picked the blood trail back up, trying desperately to ignore the sounds of Xavier and those rogues fighting.

Xavier could handle himself, I reminded myself.

Vince could hardly shift into his wolf form and the trail of blood was not a good sign.

Pushing fast the fears I had, I kept on, trekking up and down the forest slopes, following the scent of blood as I tried to figure out where they could have gone.

The snow was coming down faster and the blood trail was getting cold.

I needed to find him, needed to stop Michael from whatever vendetta he had against Vince.

I stopped dead in my tracks, smelling the sweet smell of Vince's scent suddenly coming from my left.

It was faint but I could recognize that scent anywhere.

With my wolf whining, I ran faster, letting the scent wash over me as I approached one of the clearings.

Stalking through the shrubbery I peeked my head out, finally seeing my mate there.

The sight of them had my wolf howling.

Vince laid at Michael's feet, his wolf form cowering on his side as Michael's front paw was firmly placed on his neck.

From here I could tell he had wounds on his side and shoulder, the blood trail probably from those wounds.

His black coat looked completely soaked from the blood.

I couldn't help but let out a low growl, the sight of Vince hurt and pinned pushed my self-control nearly out the window.

Michael noticed my presence first, he raised his lips to expose his canines, almost in a smirk as deadly as the one he'd wear in his human form.

Vince preened his head toward my direction as best he could, a petrifying look that struck a chord in me.

I stalked forward, my head low and ears up in alert, aware that I was exposed here.

Rogues could shoot out of the bushes but with the adrenaline and fear shooting through me, all I worried about was ending this madness.

I couldn't let Michael get away with this.

I wasn't going to let him ruin the pack or hurt Vince any further.

'Let go of him,' I urged, looking up at Michael defiantly.

He chuffed, his tail swinging in a playful manner as he narrowed those gold eyes.

'And why should I? Someone who attacked me on no basis ought to be punished.'

I snarled.

'You know that's not true.'

'Even if it were true, who would believe you?'

I took two steps forward, letting out a growl, letting my wolf hover on the edge of consciousness.

'Let him go. That's not for you to decide.'

'Fine,' Michael snarled, removing his paw from Vince's throat.

He coughed before scrambling away from Michael, limping slightly from his shoulder injury towards me.

I met him a quarter of the way, my ears drawn back as I studied him.

The only blood appeared to be from the three puncture wounds on his shoulder and what appeared to be a couple of claw marks down his side.

Once at my side I glared at Michael, worried he'd pull something any second.

'Vince?' I mind-linked him.

He looked at me before burying his head into my neck, whining.

'You shouldn't be here. You'll get hurt. They'll use you against me.'

'I can't lose you too, Vince.'

He let out a low whine but Michael's snarl drowned it out.

'How sweet?' He bared his teeth.

'Too bad I'm not the only one that wants him dead.'

I let out a growl at that, taking a defensive step in front of Vince as a cacophony of growls and snarls emanated from the tree line, one by one wolves approached us from all sides.

Approximately twenty of them, frothing at the mouths, ears alert as their hackles rose.

We were surrounded and worst of all, some pack members were among those wolves, snarling with bloodthirsty eyes.

Fighting them all at once was futile, especially with Vince's wounds.

My heart was pounding against my chest, my breaths labored as I watched them step closer and closer.

My wolf, although as terrified as I was, was livid.

Clawing to breach the surface, we wanted more to wipe that smirk of Michael's face.

I wouldn't let Michael get away with this.

I wouldn't let him hurt my mate further.

'Do you trust me?'

I leaned my muzzle into the crook of his neck.

'What?'

'Do you trust me?' I repeated, burying my head into his neck further, trying to calm my nerves with his scent as I could hear the wolves inching closer to us, their barks and growls growing louder and louder.

He blinked before nodding.

'Yes.'

I stepped back before looking him dead in his eyes, swimming in those curious blue eyes.

'Run.'

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Sakura Mochi - Chapter 1b

*Warning Adult Content*

Bug - Part 2 - Kamihara Rin 

I heard Yuki giggle in the crowd and my excitement grew. I'd be able to learn how to dance from a flame-weaver. Maybe I could someday dance as beautifully as they did. Even though I was still angry at Yuki for pushing me, I was thankful that she urged me to do something I'd always wanted to do.But, just as they were about to teach me, I heard a commotion, then a loud.

"Rin, Yuki."

‘Oh no’. 

I turned back to see Onaeni next to a taller figure. 

‘Not them.’ 

They had a smirk on their face knowing they'd been the one to get us in trouble. My heart dropped in my chest. Turning back to the dancer, I frowned. 

"I can't."

"I see. Well, feel free to catch another show and we'll see about it then. I'm in town once a month," they said with a smile.

I nodded my head and let go of their hand to guiltily walk over to my nursemaid and the dragon standing next to him. As soon as I was near, Onaeni gripped my arm. 

"Great deities above, you two are going to put this old dragon into an early grave. If your brother hadn't told me where you..."

"I think they get it, Onaeni. Leave them be," the smug dragon said.

I stuck my tongue out at them and they laughed. 

"Come on, Rin. Don't be like that. I was just looking out for my adorable little siblings."

They reached out and pinched my cheek but I swiveled my head to try and bite their finger. They chuckled. 

"It's like I'm taking care of feral animals."

"Let's go. Your parents are furious," Onaeni huffed, pulling Yuki and me along.

"Sorry, Rin," Yuki whispered.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked.

"You couldn't dance. I wanted to see it. You looked so happy."

"It's okay," I whispered.

We were silent the rest of the way back home. I looked down at the ground and realized my knees were scraped up pretty badly, all bloody and gross and my robes were torn. My parents would be furious that I ruined my clothes and that I ran away with Yuki again. It wasn't our first time and it wouldn't be our last. They knew how much Yuki and I hated being cooped up in the estate but they didn't care enough to do much to fix it. 

When we got back to the estate, Onaeni led us to our parents' study. My feet began dragging along the floor as we neared the room. I didn't want to get yelled at again. What did I expect though? We'd left the grounds without a guard or our nursemaid. Not even Akira, though Akira would've likely known anyway. It was probably how they knew where we were. Their powers bloomed already. Future sight. 

‘Lucky for them, not us.’

Onaeni opened the doors to our parents' study and Akira closed the doors behind us. I faced the front and gulped when I saw the angry looks that faced us.

"What did we say about leaving without permission or an escort?" Noni demanded.

"You wouldn't have let us outside even if we asked," I mumbled with my head down.

"You're just hatchlings. Of course, we wouldn't," Noni cried out. "Do you not understand how dangerous it is for you, children of noble blood, to be roaming around without any powers? You could have at least brought Akira with you."

"They wouldn't have let us do anything either," I argued.

"That is not the point, Rin," Nobi finally spoke up. 

She was often quiet when Noni ranted. 

"You scared us. If you continue to run away like this, how do you expect us to trust you in the future?"

My head hung down lower. 

"I'm sorry. We just... I just..."

"I think they get it, Noni, Nobi," Akira spoke up gently. "They're just trying to have some fun, the both of them."

Noni sighed. 

"You bloom and suddenly you're wise beyond your years."

Akira smiled. 

"I'm still a child, too. I need your guidance."

Noni smiled back. She stood up and walked over to us. Onaeni let us go so Noni could get down on her knees and pull Yuki and me into a hug. 

"Oh, my sweet babies. Please, I beg of you. Do not do this anymore. If you wish to leave, tell someone," she whispered.

I felt someone else behind us and realized that Nobi was also hugging us. She kissed each of our heads and stood up with Noni. 

"Did you at least have fun?" She asked us while holding Noni close.

"Yes," Yuki exclaimed. "We got mochi and watched a flame-weaver dance. Rin was going to learn some dance moves from them before Onaeni and Akira came to get us."

"That does sound like fun," Nobi agreed.

Yuki began talking about the dance while I carefully slipped out of the office. I was about to walk away when a hand touched my shoulder. 

"You shouldn't scare Noni and Nobi like that. They just want what's best for you. We all do," Akira said.

"I know," I huffed. "I didn't mean to scare them, I just wanted to get out of here. It's so lonely."

"I understand that. Before you two hatched, I was alone for years as well," they said. "But, you have Yuki. You have me. You have our parents. You don't abandon your family."

"I understand," I whispered.

Akira sighed and pulled me into a tight hug. I could feel the warmth of their flame and it eased the tension in my body. I hated getting in trouble but it was worth it to me. I hated being locked up in here all the time even more.

"Okay, I'll let you sneak off now. Go play or something," Akira said.

I pushed away from them and walked away. My family didn't get it. Maybe they were okay with sitting here and pretending that we had power but I wasn't. Our noble status meant nothing. It was just a formality. Noni and Nobi had other jobs but we all still enjoyed a privileged life. I didn't care. There was more to life than this. There had to be more than sitting around, cooped up in a fancy estate and waiting for the day my life actually began. I couldn't handle the thought of this being the rest of my life. There had to be more. 

[sugarybisous]

how to study and excel like rory gilmore from season one of gilmore girls ♡

we are in fall and what better time is it to make a rory gilmore post?

let’s begin!

READ.

read everywhere and anywhere you can, read classic books and books that suit your interest. read books that you could bring up in a conversation. read for fun! a lot of rory’s vocabulary has to do with the fact that she’s a bookworm, get into the passion of reading and watch as you naturally start to look up words you’ve never seen or heard of before.

-get into a habit of bringing a book wherever you go

-start reading whenever you feel the itching urge to scroll mindlessly through social media

take school seriously and have ambitions.

apart of studying well is knowing why you’re doing it in the first place. what are your dreams? what’s your dream school and what can you do to increase your chances of going there or pursuing a certain career? education is something no one can ever take from you and it’s important, make sure to hold onto that and value it. you can tell rory is serious about school and thinks about every detail even down to her school supplies in episode 4 her mom mentions how she really thought out about the fact that she needed specifically 3 highlighters in rory’s words, “one dries up, one gets lost, i have one left.”

-plan out everything you need to do in order to reach your academic goals

- reach out to your teacher/professor and ask them for their opinion on other things you can do that makes you stand out from other students and things you can do to improve your grades

study until you can’t get it wrong.

rory was very studious of her grades which showed in how much she studied. she asked her mom for help in quizzing her when she needed it and she even studied more to make sure there was no room for possible failure. she studied at luke’s in the morning before school and she cut out anything that was considered a distraction when it came to getting her studying and work done. like in episode 4 when her mom was trying to get her to take a break and get icecream rory kept telling her that she couldn’t because she was studying, and eventually left the kitchen where she was studying to go to her room since her mom was being a distraction.

-limit your distractions, keep your phone in another room or on do not disturb when getting work/studying done

-have a study buddy

-make sure to give yourself breaks in between doing homework and studying so you don’t get burnt out

don’t let obstacles bring you down.

rory had a lot of obstacles once she got into chilton, the school environment was different, difficult, and more strict, she had competition and on top of that she was behind a lot of assignments and had to catch up. she told her mom that she knows the reason she got her first d on an assignment was because she needed to catch up and she can and will do that, and that she wasn’t ready to give up on chilton just yet. rory knew that chilton was a stepping stone to get to her dream school harvard and knew it was worth it to put in all the extra work. whatever obstacles you go through in your own life, don’t let it threaten and scare you but use it as motivation to end up on top, and dont forget the end goal and reason why you’re doing this in the first place.

-know that anything you put your mind to you can achieve

-don’t let other peoples opinion of you suddenly change your worth and make you second guess the things you know you can do

-be realistic and be easy on yourself

i think it’s important to note that rory wasn’t perfect and she definitely had her moments where she felt like she couldn’t handle everything but the thing is, she always picked herself back up and started to put the effort in again which gave her the results she deserved. dont give up you got this! happy new school year and fall everyone!

[scarasun]

pinky promise (that you'll do as i say?)

{ pairing } scaramouche x gn!reader

{ a/n } from yesterday being the first day of school for me to the excitement of the 3.1 livestream today, i was inspired and decided to write a little something. p.s. this piece is part of my writing practice, but i decided to post it to see if my tags are working.

{ warnings } fluff. high school/college au. scara's real name is used.

“You know, from the way you keep staring, it’s not hard to guess that you find me attractive.”

You snapped out of your daze, the clear cadence of Kunikuzushi’s voice cutting through your foggy thoughts. His eyes hadn’t left the textbook in front of him, but you could feel the air still as he awaited your response. 

You scoffed, lightly kicking his shin under the table. You had no idea how he could sit with a book for hours and simply do nothing, but it seemed to pay off for him. Although he might not look like it, he studied frequently, and he had the grades to prove it.

Unlike Kuni, your studies were going…less than optimal. Your vision would blur whenever you glanced at the dense text, and the deafening silence of the library didn’t help your restlessness. So you took his remark in stride, happy for a distraction from the mundane.

Cupping your chin in your hands, you inched closer to him, mischievous intent behind your next words. “And what if I told you that that was the truth? That I would never take my eyes off of you because you look like a god? What would you say then?”

He grunted in response, but you didn’t miss the way his cheeks flushed, the color of his skin similar to that of sakura blooms. Your convictions were light-hearted, but they were true; his attitude might be disgusting, but you had long since admitted to yourself that he was devastatingly handsome.

“Focus. Unless you want to fail your exams and embarrass yourself again this semester?” He flipped a page from his textbook, and you could tell his attention had begun to drift away from you once again.

You released a long sigh, your posture slumped with defeat. You admired his discipline, but it was quickly getting on your nerves. Why did he even ask you to accompany him to the library if he was just going to ignore you?

Noticing your agitation, Kunikuzushi finally looked up from his book, beautiful indigo eyes glinting in the afternoon sunlight. He hummed thoughtfully (it appeared that he was thinking), before leaning forward. He was so close that you could see the kaleidoscope of his irises, as mesmerizing and luminous as the night sky.

“How about we make a deal then? If you study a chapter right now, I’ll take you out for a treat later,” he whispered, holding his pinky finger out to you. 

The sight before you was enthralling: the usually menacing young man suddenly reduced to a playful child, holding out his pinky to secure an invisible contract. Suddenly, the idea of studying didn’t seem so malevolent, and you had to fight the urge to look too interested. 

You pretended to give it some thought, before wrapping your own finger around his, relishing in the rare instance of physical contact. It was electrifying, and the place where his skin touched yours buzzed, releasing a cage of butterflies in your stomach (you briefly wondered if he felt the same way you did).

“We have a deal.” 

reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated!

[foreverindreamlandd]

Awake My Soul • 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 3.6k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of torture, quick lil switch in POV ;)

*Приятельница - friend/mate

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

Bucky waited until everyone had left the room except for him and Sam, who stood by the large table by the west wall. He stared at the map before him, studying the illustrations that marked your surroundings.

It was as if he knew Bucky still wasn’t done speaking, but he remained quiet for a moment even after the room had emptied out.

Bucky had intended on resuming his yelling as soon as the conversation with the larger group had ended. To scream about how this was a bad idea. To urge him to reconsider letting you stay. To tell him that you couldn’t be trusted.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, your eyes flashed into his mind. The pain, the anguish, the desperation.

The way the color of them popped through a thin veil of tears. 

They were so…striking.

He hated how much he hated to see you cry.

“I don’t trust her either,” Sam said, mindlessly running his fingers along the map. Bucky’s eyes shot over to him and Sam finally looked up to meet them. “I mean, I think she’s a good person and what she told us about her past was true. There’s just something she’s not telling us, and we need to figure that out.”

All Bucky could do was nod once in response.

Sam continued. “What was she like before she got to camp? Hostile? Reckless?”

“Yes to reckless,” Bucky said without thinking, remembering the way you ran to help him even though it put your life at risk. Before he could stop himself, the corners of his lips turned upwards and he breathed out a small laugh. “Annoying as hell, too. Got a mouth on her.”

He was met with silence, and when he looked up he noticed that Sam was giving him a look, eyebrows knit together, head cocked to the side.

Bucky scowled.

“She seems to have quite an effect on you,” was all his leader, his friend said.

“I just don’t understand why everyone is so okay with having someone join our camp after what happened. We knew Ward; thought we could trust him. Look where that got us.” 

“Not everyone is going to be Ward, Bucky,” Sam replied, his tone softening. “There are going to be people who are genuine and truthful and need our help. If we turn those people away….then we go against everything we stand for. Helping people. Shielding them.” 

Bucky walked over to the large window and stared out into the grounds. You were standing by the garden with Pepper, Clint, Laura, Peter and the kids. AJ immediately ran to your good side and wrapped his arms around your legs. 

He only had a view of your profile, but managed to catch the way your lips curved up into a smile as you rested a hand on the crown of his head.

Bucky felt something then that he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced in his life. An ache in his chest, different from the pain he felt when he lost his parents, his sister, his arm, Steve. This wasn’t the ache of his heart breaking.

It was yearning.

Suddenly, you turned your head up to the window Bucky stood at, and locked eyes with him in this magnetic, hypnotizing way for what felt like the hundredth time since the two of you met.

As if there was something that drew you to one another.

He hated to think about how connected he felt to you, how easy it was to be consumed by your entire existence. 

How - though there was a raging force inside of him that did not trust you - an even larger part wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.

But he knew that there was no use in attempting to protect those he loved (not that he loved you….obviously). He always ended up losing them eventually, no matter how hard he tried.

BUCKY! GO! GET OUTTA HERE!

NO! NOT WITHOUT YOU!

He clenched his fist, biting the inside of his cheek until the taste of iron distracted him from the tears welling in his eyes. 

“You good, man?” Sam asked, drawing Bucky back into the room.

“‘M fine. Gotta go.” He lowered his gaze to the floor and stormed out of the room, pushing that unfamiliar ache into the darkest, coldest depths of his heart.

ONE MONTH LATER

You ran down the hallway, eyes scanning for an empty room. A safe place to hide.

Heart racing, breath almost loud enough to blow your cover, you felt instant relief as you turned the corner and darted into the library, slowing your pace to lessen the sound of your footsteps. 

The pain in your mostly-healed shoulder was turning from a dull ache into an unignorable throb, the entire appendage pulsing from the strain you had put it through.

At least you were safe.

For now.

Passing each of the shelves to double check that there was empty, you made your way to the very back corner behind the rusted filing cabinets.

You kept your back pressed against the wall, crouching down so that you were completely hidden.

Then, you listened. Put all of your energy into that sense to see if they were coming.

Nothing.

It gave you a few minutes to even out your breathing and plan your escape. You knew you couldn’t stay in here for long-

The faint sound of footsteps approaching caused your breathing to stop altogether.

Shit.

More footsteps. Heading toward the library.

Shitshitshitshit.

Okay, you thought, closing your eyes to mentally prepare for your next plan. If I can just move opposite of them I can get out of the room and get out of here.

You took two silent steps toward the closest bookshelf-

“GOTCHA!” The figures jumped out in front of you.

You screamed.

Morgan, AJ, and Cass pointed at you as they cackled.

“You should see the look on your FACE,” Morgan taunted.

You glared at the 7 year old. “I’m never playing hide and seek with you monsters again.”

Cass shook his head, still laughing. “You said that last time. Yet here you are.”

Like the mature adult you were, you stuck your tongue out at him. He stuck his out right back.

“What the hell is going on in here?” The thick, Russian accent came from just outside the room and you all turned your heads to find Yelena leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her and eyebrows raised.

You smiled, elbowing AJ in the side and he let out a small heyy! “Just keeping things interesting around here.”

Yelena smirked. “That high-pitched scream was definitely interesting. And impressive. I didn’t realize that type of screech could come from a person.”

Your eyes narrowed in a playful glare and she wiggled her eyebrows, standing straight and pointing to your right shoulder which you were now massaging. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

You lowered your left arm, a guilty expression on your face and she groaned. 

“It’s just a little sore,” you said.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to get it back in shape. And here you are ruining all of my work.” She shook her head in disappointment, muttering some words in Russian.

“It’s fine, Lena, I promise,” you said. “See?” You moved your entire arm around in a circular motion without issue. That was, until you made it three-quarters of the way around and something cracked and you took a sharp intake of breath, eyes watering. 

The kids winced as they watched your reaction and Yelena looked up to the ceiling. 

“Come on,” she grumbled, walking over and grabbing your good hand to drag you out. “Let’s see if some stretches and massages will help before we start training.”

You looked back and yelled, “See ya later, guys!” and were met with a small chorus of farewells before a new onslaught of giggles.

“Seriously,” Yelena said, turning her head to look at you. “What’s the pain level? Think you can try punching shit?”

You nodded. “It’s around a six, but I’ve had to fight through worse pain. I’ll be fine. Just don’t tell Bruce.”

“Obviously,” she said with a mischievous grin and a wink, opening the main door of the building. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight, but basked in the feeling of its warmth as it kissed your skin. 

For the two years you were Hydra’s prisoner, you hardly ever got to see the sun. Any windows that existed in that building were tiny, and the testing rooms didn’t have any. It was one of the worst ways captivity messed with your mind. There was no way to tell what time it was, how much had passed. Whether you were being cut open for hours or days.

And there was never any light, never any warmth. It was dark, cold. The only heat you felt was the burning pain as they ripped into your body.

Being here, outside, where the heat of the sun seeped into you….

It was a gift.

“Come on, приятельница*,” Yelena chastised, pulling your hand. “We have a lot of ground to cover and if you make me late for dinner I’m going to be pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling while walking a bit faster to prevent being dragged to the gym in the center building. 

Said smile dropped as soon as you walked into the large basement and your eyes landed on Bucky’s bare, toned back, the multitude of corded muscles shifting and bulging as he wound up for another powerful right hook at the punching bag.

Bucky hardly wore anything that revealed parts of his skin, but on the rare occasion his sleeve was pushed up, you noticed a few tattoos moving up along his arm: a machete similar to the one he used as his favored weapon, words to what seemed to be a quote you couldn’t totally make out.

Nothing you had seen compared to the art he had on his back.

Roses. You counted ten of them, starting in between his shoulder blades and cascading down to just above the band of his shorts. 

They were stunning, captivating as you saw beads of sweat travel down each one.

There was only one thing that could pull your attention from the beautiful tapestry painted on his skin.

His left shoulder. The scars that suddenly brought tears to your eyes, the black veins that shouldn’t be there-

Bucky heard a sharp intake of breath from behind and whipped his body around, right arm clenched into a fist ready to land this next punch to the potential attacker.

He froze when he first saw Yelena, then scowled when his eyes landed on you, fist lowering to his side, still clenched.

“Woahhh,” Yelena said, hands raising up in defense. “Easy there tough guy. We’re just here to train. That okay?”

You tried to give him a small, closed lip smile in an attempt to steer away from the obvious discomfort of the current situation.

Bucky swallowed, then leaned down to grab his shirt, quickly throwing it on and storming past you.

“Hey, you don’t have to leave!” Yelena said, annoyed.

“Was done anyway,” he mumbled, practically running up the stairs.

Yelena scoffed, looking at you. “Unbelievable.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the ache in your chest from yet another rejection from Bucky. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” she said. “It’s fucking annoying and childish!” She listed her complaints on her fingers as she continued, “He leaves whenever you walk into a room, he moves to the opposite end of the cafeteria from where you’re sitting, and gets all pissy when I try to bring your name up during watch.”

Trying to ignore the ache as it grew, you moved to the mats and began stretching. “Listen, everyone just needs to accept the fact that Bucky Barnes hates me. I broke his already fragile trust, and after that? I honestly don’t really blame him. Let’s just move on, okay?”

She shook her head, muttering something in Russian as she walked over to you. “I think he’s in love with you,” she said casually.

You blinked.

You blinked again.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“And you’re in love with him.” Yelena continued, leaning forward and effortlessly moving into a handstand.

You scoffed, sputtering words mindlessly. “I do not…no….how could you think-”

“Oh shush,” she said, lifting up one arm while still remaining completely still. “There’s too much tension between you two. I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of hot. The way you can barely look at each other, but when you do, there’s all this fiery passion. You may think it’s hate, but it’s so much more than that, приятельница.”

“You’re delusional,” you muttered, trying to force the butterflies out of your stomach. You turned your attention to doing pushups, more than ready to start training so that you could focus on exhausting your body as well as your mind.

Bucky Barnes…in love with me??

Me….in love with Bucky????

“Delusional,” you muttered again, the burn in your left shoulder bringing an almost comforting  distraction.

Yelena moved back on her feet, and you missed the moment she let out a small smirk.

“We’ll see about that,” she said in Russian.

“You look like shit,” Kate remarked, looking you up and down as you dragged yourself over to grab a plate.

You groaned, glaring at her with as much strength as you could muster. “Yelena beat the shit out of me today.”

She laughed, scooping up a serving of squash. “We’ve all been there. That’s why she trains us. She’s the best of the best.”

“Can’t she be, like, less of the best every once in a while? I can’t imagine any zombies being able to do that thing where her legs wrap around your neck and flings your helpless body to the ground.”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, that one’s rough. It was hilarious seeing her and Nat spar, though, because both would keep trying to pull that move on one another.”

You breathed out a small, sad laugh. Nat was Yelena’s sister, a fierce fighter with an even fiercer heart. She was one of the Shield members lost during the attack at the old camp.

Nat, Carol (Sarah’s partner), Nick, Coulson, Maria, Tony (Pepper’s husband and Morgan’s dad), and Steve, the gang’s former leader.

So many loved ones lost in one night. You knew the devastation that brought, the pain that would never fully go away, worse than anything physical you could ever endure.

The Shield family was resilient, though. You could see the sorrow behind their eyes, the tears the kids shed when they thought about those they missed. But you also saw their genuine laughter, the desire to share stories of the good times, the drive to continue on even during the toughest moment.

You longed for a day that you might be able to reminisce about your parents. About Sersi and Druig. About Ajak.

…..about Thea.

Not yet, though. Even the images of them that appeared in the back of your mind shattered your heart into pieces. 

Still, you had not laughed as much as you had this past month than you had in over two years. It took a while to get comfortable, to get to know the group and for trust to begin to grow.

Yelena and Kate were the first to befriend you, insisting that you sit with them at the cafeteria table, trying to get as much information from you as they could.

When they realized that you weren’t ready to divulge your whole life story again after basically being put on trial your first day at camp, they decided to fill you in on the camp dynamic.

“Kate and I have been madly in love for years,” Yelena said as she bit into a carrot. “Took me forever to get her to go on a date with me, though.”

“That’s because your idea for a date was beating the shit out of each other in the gym,” Kate replied, reaching over to take Yelena’s hand.

She shared a suggestive look with the brunette before looking to you. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get my hands on you.”

That was the first time you let out a deep belly laugh. The first time you forgot about the shit that existed outside of the brick walls surrounding you.

The first time in a long time you felt a sense of belonging.

The weeks that followed consisted of you getting acclimated with camp. Spending time in the garden with Pepper and Laura, being endlessly entertained by the kids, cooking in the kitchen with Dum Dum, target practice using daggers with Clint, providing intel on Hydra’s location to Sam.

Everyone was eager to help you feel welcome, feel useful, feel needed.

Except for Bucky, though. As Yelena painfully reminded you earlier today, he had zero interest in forming a relationship with you.

Minus the batshit crazy comment she made as well.

He’s in love with you.

“Evenin’, ladies!” Dum Dum said cheerfully as you approached his station. His brows furrowed with concern as he looked at you. “You alright, darlin’?”

You grimaced. “Training day with Yelena.”

He barked out a laugh, scooping up the stew and filling Kate’s bowl. During your first week there, you had asked Kate why Dum Dum served people their food instead of people getting it themselves, wondering if people got greedy and took more than their share.

Apparently it was the opposite. Some took tiny portions - if any at all - to let the others have more, especially the kids. Having someone regulate servings per person made it so that everyone got the amount they needed, evenly split amongst the group. Besides, you quickly learned that Dum Dum loved the chance to check in with everyone during each meal. “Sounds ‘bout right. Did she do the legs around your neck thing?”

You nodded, still grimacing and he laughed again, shaking his head.

“That woman. Heart of gold but she still scares the shit outta me a bit.” He filled your bowl and winked. “Eat up, the fuel will help with recovery.”

“Thanks Dum Dum,” you said as you followed Kate to your usual spot. Your eyes immediately found Bucky in the opposite corner with Sarah, Pepper, Morgan and the boys, the usual scowl on his face. When he looked up and met your gaze, you quickly looked down at your tray, unable to find the strength to watch his scowl deepen at the sight of you.

“Where is Lena, anyways?” Kate asked, sitting down and immediately inhaling her stew.

“Not sure,” you replied. “She said something about needing to speak to Sam? But that was a while ago.”

Suddenly, as if summoned, you spotted the blond walking into the room and beelining toward Bucky.

She mumbled something to him, and his eyes widened, fists clenched, glaring at her as if she had offended him in the worst way. 

They were too far for you to be able to hear their quiet argument, but based on the way Sarah and Pepper were looking at each other, you knew the conversation was a mix between intense and slightly amusing.

What you did end up hearing was the clattering of dishes as Bucky stood abruptly, grabbing his tray and storming out of the room. Yelena raised her brows and then moved to grab her food.

“What the hell was that all about?” you asked when she finally sat at the table.

Yelena gave Kate a quick kiss then turned to you. “There’s been a change in duties. Usually I do third shift of night watch at the wall, but Sam and I had a chat about how it makes more sense for me to do the first one after dinner. That way I can be up first thing in the morning to start training sessions instead of passing out after being awake all night.”

You nodded, though still confused. “Why is Bucky all up in arms about that? Now he gets a few extra hours to his grumpy self. I feel like he would be thrilled.”

She smirked, eyes flashing to Kate for a second before returning to you.

“He won’t be alone. You’re replacing me, приятельница.”

You froze mid-bite, expression shifting to one of complete horror.

“What?”

“Listen, Y/n, the two of you need to get your shit figured out. You’re part of the family, whether Bucky likes it or not, and now that your shoulder is almost healed, you’re going to start going on supply runs with him and everyone else. I’m not going to send you out with someone who might think twice before saving your life. If you die because of him I’ll kill him, and then I’ll have lost two people I care about. Not going to happen.”

“There has to be a better way than this, though!” you begged. The idea of spending four hours uninterrupted with Bucky took any feeling of hunger from your stomach, replacing it with nausea. 

There was a worse feeling than that, though. One you didn’t dare allow to become a full thought.

Because why on earth would you be at all excited to spend four hours uninterrupted with someone who hated you?

“You’ll be fine! It’s not like he talks much these days, anyway. You just need to wear him down and force him to like you. Though I’m sure it won’t be as hard as you think,” she said cheekily.

Your forehead landed on your arms against the table as you groaned.

Four hours with Bucky Barnes.

Every single night, for who knows how long.

This was going to be an absolute shitshow.

Chapter 5

*Приятельница - friend/mate