#why am i always descending further and further into madness in tags

[lost-in-azalea-forest]

sometimes i think "nah, i'm not THAT obsessed with f/o" and then i see f/o and sdjdkcjkcjckdhfk 💝💓💝💕💖💓💘💖💟💓💝💓💕💘

#first was watching op now hy.pmic guys its too much for my heart XD #i see them for one second and i need to pause video and hide my face #no but i am screenshoting almost every moment of r.osho being on screen #i have growing collection of my bf being very unimpressed i love him sm hes so cute and handsome and sweet and pretty #fuck i want to cry i love him sm #why am i always descending further and further into madness in tags

[moonlit-han]

part v: true north

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 9.2k part warnings: 18+ content, suggestive, explicit language, mild angst, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction.  !! important !!: if you are under 18 years of age, you may not read this series. the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if age appropriate. thank you. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read other parts first! ~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

“So,” Jisung said evenly, “when exactly were you going to tell me that you’re seeing Y/N?”

Facing him on the sofa, one leg tucked under the other, Chan let out a surprised huff of air. “I- Why do you care? I thought you were in an open relationship?”

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t tell each other when we’re dating someone new!” Jisung retorted, trying to keep his voice even.

Chan’s eyes widened. “I just assumed she would’ve told you…”

“She didn’t,” Jisung said flatly.

Silence descended for a full three minutes, the tension growing by the second, as both young men refused to speak. Jisung struggled to keep his features fairly neutral, even as he seethed, because, as much as he admired Chan and loved their friendship, his friend was a real bastard when he wanted to be.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Jisung.” Chan’s tone was flippant as he continued to stare at the ceiling. “Take it up with Y/N.”

“What?” Jisung demanded incredulously. He couldn’t believe Chan could be so… So cold.

“I said—“

“I know what you said,” Jisung interrupted, “but I can’t believe you’d betray our friendship like this!”

“Betray our friendship?” Chan ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell, Jisung? It’s not like we’ve told each other about relationships in the past?”

Jisung scoffed. “What relationships, Chan? You haven’t had time to so much as have a quick fuck, let alone an actual relationship.”

“Thanks, Jisung. That’s real nice.”

“It’s not like I’m wrong!” Jisung shot to his feet and pushed the coffee table further into the room with his boot, unable to sit still anymore.

“That doesn’t mean you can insult me.” Chan countered, also rising, arms crossed.

“Likewise, Chan,” Jisung spat, gesticulating wildly. “And just by not telling me, you’ve insulted our friendship.”

“Great!” Chan exclaimed, keeping his distance at the other end of the couch. “I’ve gone and insulted our friendship. Why is this my fault all of a sudden? What about Y/N? Aren’t you going to acknowledge that some of this is on her?”

Jisung spluttered. “Yeah, fine. It is. But you’re my best friend and you should’ve told me, especially since you seem to think you and she are this great power couple or something!”

“I do not!”

“Then why’d you give her that necklace, huh?”

“Jisung,” Chan said placatingly, holding his hands out like he’d calm a wild animal, “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I do care about Y/N.”

Jisung fought not to roll his eyes.

“I really like her,” Chan continued. “She’s just— I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like I’ve been spinning out of focus, away from my center. And then she just appears in my life one day, and suddenly I know where I am again.” He paused to take a breath, as if steeling himself. “Being with her feels amazing.”

Jisung finally did lose control of his expression, sneering as he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, that’s not what I meant,” Chan said flatly. “I’m talking about her personality, her laugh, her mind, everything, Jisung. You know what it’s like, I know you do.” Jisung’s lips pressed together in a tight line, but he remained silent as Chan sat down on the sofa again. “She’s so easy to be around, to spend time with. I honestly feel I’ve been waiting for something all my life and now I’ve found it—I’ve found her.”

Jisung sighed and acquiesced to perching on the arm of his sofa, if not fully sitting again. “Fine. I know what you mean about being drawn to her.” Chan looked like he was about to crow. “But still, you could’ve said something, man.”

“I wanted to, but didn’t know how!” Chan blurted. “And I thought… Since I gave her the necklace and she wore it… But she didn’t tell you?”

“Nope, she hasn’t said a thing, besides saying that she was going on dates. Which were casual. So she didn’t need to tell me anything else.” Jisung tried not to smirk. “You might want to check how serious she thinks it is with you,” he said in mock warning.

Chan seemed to deflate like a balloon losing air, but rose to his feet again nevertheless. Jisung just watched, his heart pounding. “Whatever, Jisung,” Chan mumbled as he stopped halfway across the room, then let himself out. “Bye.”

Jisung didn’t move from where he’d collapsed on the couch for a long time, thinking about everything that had just happened. Sure, he probably shouldn’t have said something so inflammatory to Chan, but that didn’t excuse the facts of the situation. But then again…

Over the past hour, it was as if every feeling of inadequacy, every insecurity had clawed their way out of the deep, mental grave Jisung had worked so hard to dig for them. Knowing that Chan—his best friend, the man he looked up to as a musician and as a person—was seeing you in some capacity made him doubt his own worth. How could he compare to the paradigm that was Bang Chan? Well, maybe not a paradigm, but he was certainly admirable. Jisung still couldn't believe he was dating someone so wonderful as you, so Chan dating you felt too much like him winning some competition of which Jisung hadn’t even known he was a part. Just the thought made him feel like vines were slithering under his skin, constricting him from within. He wondered if Changbin knew, since he lived with Chan, and what he thought if he did.

Jisung couldn’t help thinking that you wearing Chan’s necklace when neither he nor Changbin had given you anything like that felt like Chan was staking his claim. He knew it sounded ridiculous, like Chan was some wolf unable to control his instincts, but you were wearing jewelry that Jisung had seen around his friend’s neck for the past three years, without fail, which he knew meant the world to Chan. So, did that mean that you meant the world to Chan? That you were Chan’s more than his and Changbin’s, even though they were both actually dating you and Chan was, as far as he knew, simply seeing you casually? You hadn’t told him about seeing Chan, so it couldn’t be that serious, right? But that necklace… Seeing it on your neck made your tie with Chan seem more, well, real than his own.

Chan’s insistence that you were the one for him didn’t soothe Jisung’s anxiety, either. And, the fact that Jisung suspected he felt something similar made it all more complicated. He sighed and held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples as his elbows dug into his knees slightly more painfully than he would have liked, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep or do something mindless, to not worry about his relationships or anything else. With a whining groan, Jisung stood and made his way to his bedroom. Maybe some alone time and a nap would help.

↠↞

You kissed Jisung goodbye as he and Chan headed next door, and Changbin tried not to look too forlorn at not being able to kiss Jisung, too. He didn’t much like how there were starting to be more and more secrets between the four of you. When you came back into the kitchen from retrieving your cardigan from exactly where you thought it was—not in the laundry as Chan had assumed—Changbin was washing the mixing bowls you’d used, trying not to splash water all over your kitchen and himself (again). You joined him next to the sink, drying whatever he handed you and putting it away.

Once the last fork had been washed and returned to live among its pointy brethren, the two of you made your way into through the living room where the tins of cookies still sat on the coffee table.

“How mad do you think Jisung would be if I ate all the chocolate chip cookies?” Changbin asked, grinning as he reached for a tin.

“Very,” you replied, knowing your boyfriend wouldn’t really eat the cookies Jisung had already claimed for himself. “But you should still give me one of those.”

Changbin opened the tin and gave you two before heading toward the bedroom.

Kicking off your shoes, you flopped onto the bed next to Changbin, slinging an arm around his shoulders to run your fingers through his hair. He rested his hand on your thigh, gently massaging your muscles—it was nothing erotic, just comforting. The dull light of the winter afternoon filtered through your curtains, catching the two silver rings Changbin had started wearing.

“So,” Changbin began, “how was your week? I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and haven’t been able to talk to you as much.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek, making you smile softly.

“No, no, no! Babe, don’t worry about it! Eh, my week was okay,” you shrugged, now twisting a lock of hair at the base of Changbin’s neck between two fingers. “I got cleared for graduation, so that’s something. But I still have way too much to do before spring break.” You sighed, letting your head sink further into your nest of pillows as you turned to Changbin. “Weren’t you in the studio a bunch this week?”

A sly look crept over Changbin’s countenance as he said, “As a matter of fact…”

You waited a beat for him to continue and when he didn’t you prompted: “Yes?”

“I was in the studio this week—most nights, actually.” Changbin made to rise. “Here, I’ll be right back.”

Before Changbin could return to the bedroom, you snatched one of the cookies he’d left on the bedside table; after all, why should you eat one of your own and have one cookie fewer for later when you could just steal one of your boyfriend’s? It was so delicious that you thought that whoever had written the recipe for these cookies was a genius and deserved a medal. As Changbin walked back into the room, you tried not to look too guilty as you licked the crumbs from your lips. He looked from you to the bedside table and back again.

“Y/N, I— Are you eating one of my cookies?” Changbin said in mock outrage, coming over to your side of the bed and standing over you.

You just stared up at the ceiling, feigning innocence. Changbin leaned down and caught your lips with his, kissing you so thoroughly that you were left breathless. When he straightened, you noticed that your pocket felt one cookie lighter. Sure enough, he’d stolen one of your cookies while he’d been kissing you.

“You little shit!” you cried, quickly sitting up and playfully jabbing Changbin in the stomach, causing him to let out a huff of air.

“Well, you stole one of mine, so it’s only fair,” he said loftily, popping the cookie into his mouth. All you could do was shake your head.

“Close your eyes, love,” Changbin said, and you made a noise of confusion. “Just wait a minute and you’ll know.”

You heard some strangely slithery noises, then felt something come to rest on your bed that was not your boyfriend. Once he’d climbed back up onto the bed and laid down beside you, he gently pulled your hands down from your eyes. “It’s a gift, love.”

The first thing you saw was your old boombox at the end of your bed, an extension chord trailing from it and across the room. In front of you on the bed was a small, rectangular package that looked very familiar….

“Did you…? Is that what I think it is?” you asked, hoping your guess was correct.

“How about you open it, love,” Changbin said, smiling.

You held the gift in your hand, then tore the brown paper from it to reveal a cassette tape.

For Y/N, the most beautiful and wonderful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. Enjoy, love ♡

“A mixtape,” you breathed, turning it over in your hands. “So this is what you were working on this week, babe?”

“Mhmmm,” Changbin hummed, nuzzling your neck. “I hope you love it.”

“I know I will, babe. Let’s listen to it now!” you said excitedly, and leaned forward to slip the cassette into the slot on the boombox, then pressed Play. Changbin held out his arms and you leaned against him, sinking into his chest. As always, Changbin arms were strong and warm around you as the mixtape began to play.

The first song was slow and mellow, setting the mood for the rest of the mixtape and how Changbin felt about you. You’d always known that he had a romantic nature and he’d demonstrated that many times, but the way he described his feelings for you in the lyrics he’d written… You couldn’t help the tears that began to tumble down your cheeks. As you listened to the mixtape in silence, breaking it only with laughs or sighs of deep emotion, you were stunned by the depth of emotion.

“Oh Changbin,” you murmured, turning in his arms to caress his cheek, “you have no idea how much this means to me.” Your hands twined behind Changbin’s neck as you brought your lips to his, lingering at the corner of his mouth before you kissed along his jaw up to his ear. “I feel just the same,” you whispered, and Changbin’s quick intake of breath felt like the fluttering of a bird’s wings against your chest.

“Love, oh love,” Changbin breathed as he drew you down onto the pillows, his body covering yours like a shield. “I’d hoped you did.”

Just then, raised voices came from Jisung’s apartment. You and Changbin looked at each other, wide-eyed. It was unusual for both Jisung and Chan to argue, let alone yell, so something must truly be wrong.

“Should we check on them?” you asked, coming out of your music-induced haze. “That doesn’t sound good…”

“I think they’ll be okay,” Changbin replied, sighing and staring up at the ceiling. He had a feeling he knew what the argument was about, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Not yet, at least. He hoped nothing would happen to 3racha because of the conflict, but he didn’t recall Jisung mentioning anything to him.

“Are you sure?” you prodded, hoping it had nothing to do with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll hear about it at some point.” Changbin tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Shall we get back to kissing, then?”

You laughed and nodded, craning your neck to catch Changbin’s lips with yours.

The next morning—Sunday morning—Changbin awoke slowly and simply laid there, admiring you the way the sunlight seemed to shimmer over your hair like quicksilver. He was struck by how lucky he was to be with you, to know you, to-

“Mmmmm, ‘morning, baby,” you mumbled, rolling over to snuggle into Changbin’s chest—his bare skin was warm and soft, the perfect counterpoint to the cool air of the room. He kissed your hair, wrapping an arm around and shifting so you could fit yourself against the curve of his body.

After a few minutes of gently stroking your back, following the same lines he’d frantically raked nails down the night before, Changbin murmured, “Y/N, love . . . pancakes.” You giggled softly at your boyfriend’s seemingly one-track mind—he’d been exclaiming his joy of making pancakes even before you’d gone to bed.

“Y/N….” Changbin repeated, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and sending little shivers down your spine. You threw a leg over his, bringing your bodies even closer and noting that pancakes were not the only things Changbin desired. Still not answering, you scrunched your nose against his chest and began to leave little kisses along the lines of his muscles.

“Mmmm?”

“Love, Jisung’s going to be here soon and we should make pancakes so we can all have breakfast.”

You moved your hand from just under your breastbone to between you and Changbin. He moaned as your fingers slid over him, and, suddenly, pancakes were all but forgotten. Changbin pressed himself into your hand as he hardened under your touch, and he began to kiss along your neck, nipping at the skin. You traced the very tip of him with a finger, then ran your hand up and down, still with the same lazy slowness. Changbin’s hands moved to grip your ass, squeezing and placing you on top of him as he rolled onto his back.

Now that you were pressed firmly to Changbin, the obvious hardness of him teased you to no end. His hands still on your ass, gently massaging, your boyfriend pulled you further up his body so that you were chest-to-chest and nearly nose-to-nose. Your lips met, soft and gentle, and you kissed languidly; Changbin swiped his tongue along the seam of your mouth, slipping inside to explore each and every hollow, plane, and crevice of your teeth, your tongue, your lips.

Propping yourself up a little, you sighed as the brush of your skin against his sent pleasurable shivers down your spine. “Baby, please,” you breathed against Changbin’s lips as you slid your body up and down over his, imitating the motion you craved, hungrily kissing him.

“I don’t have a condom on, love,” Changbin said, a laugh coloring his voice. “I—“

“I’m on the pill, Changbin, you know that. And I know that you’re incredibly healthy.” You nipped at his jaw, then begged again. “Please.”

“Y/N, love,” Changbin said not unkindly, “I’m not taking any risks, okay?” He reached out to your bedside table, hand scrabbling a little, then came up with the little foil square.

“You’re right—I just got carried away,” you said, conceding.

“It’s okay, love, really.”

Sighing, you sat back on Changbin’s thighs as he slid the condom on, then stroked him so sweetly and lovingly that he rose and swelled immediately—you may have licked your lips a little. Changbin’s moans at your ministrations were soft, like the sigh of the wind through a field of wheat.

You leaned forward to kiss Changbin and you groaned with pleasure as you joined together, your boyfriend letting you slowly adjust. Changbin’s hands came up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking over them as you continued to kiss, and you rolled your hips, luxuriating in the sensation of him inside you.

It was utterly exquisite.

As you kissed and kissed, sharing breaths and moans of pleasure, you moved together like the ebb and flow of the sea. The little words of encouragement and affection you shared seemed to bare your innermost feelings through their simplicity. Everything was slow and easy, just enjoying the feel of each other—your body felt tight and utterly molten at the same time, your core turned white-hot with desire.

Shifting so Changbin could find that perfect spot, you kissed along his neck, tasting the fine sheen of sweat that had begun to form on his skin. The new angle drove, even pulled, Changbin into you, and his brows knit as little groans low in his throat escaped his lips. Your pleasure began to slide down your spine like the inexorable glide of a glacier, gathering more and more power with every inch.

And finally, the pulsing deep inside seeming to reverberate through your bones, and all you could do was cling to Changbin as you gasped and cried out. The sense of overwhelming bliss was so intense that you thought you would surely cry. Changbin did not slow in his pace, even as you came down from that wondrous high, until his hips stuttered and with a few quick thrusts that forced moaning whines from you, he, too, found his release.

He held you to him, the warmth of your bodies nearly melding you together as your body seemed to refuse to relinquish its hold around him. Once both of you had regained your breath, you once again became two separate people and helped clean each other off.

Cuddling among your nest of pillows, you contented yourself with tracing the planes of Changbin’s stomach as he lazily ran a finger up and down your bicep. Your foreheads nearly touched on the pillow, and when your eyes met from time to time, your smiles were luminous. As always, with Changbin, you felt absolutely serene.

With a jolt, you woke from a light doze next to Changbin and realized that if you didn’t get out of bed right at that moment, there was no way you’d ever get up. Maybe you’d tell Jisung to join the two of you in bed and make a lazy day of it… Just as you were reaching for your phone, though, Changbin slid out of bed and stood with his hands on his hips; you looked up guiltily at him.

“Pancakes,” was all Changbin said.

It was now a tradition for Jisung and Changbin to come over to your apartment on Sunday mornings for pancakes, tea, and more cuddling and soft kisses than you knew what to do with. As Changbin helped watch the pancakes, you could tell something was on his mind, but knew that he’d say something if it was that important. You pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder before finding a spoon with which to scrape the pancake batter down the sides of the bowl.

A moment later, Jisung ambled into the kitchen, hair still slightly disheveled from sleep, his arms entirely swallowed by the hoodie he was wearing. “Hey, babe,” he said, coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. “These smell delicious!” He kissed your cheek, and you hummed in reply, not needing words to express your happiness in seeing him or having his arms around you.

You took the spatula from Changbin and began turning the pancakes, trying your best not to fling them off the griddle. Jisung gave you a tight squeeze, let go of you, and moved two steps to the right to throw his arms around Changbin. “Hey, babe,” he said to him, too. Changbin turned in Jisung’s arms and smoothed his boyfriend’s hair before lightly kissing him.

He leaned against the counter, hands clasped together at the small of Jisung’s back so that Jisung could simply lean into him. You turned your head to see Jisung draped against Changbin’s bare chest so he could look up at the other young man, a syrupy grin on his face.

Your heart swelled with affection for both of them, and you had to brace yourself against the counter for a moment. It was genuinely easy to be with both of them in this new, wonderful relationship. There was so much trust built between you already—Jisung and Changbin’s three years of friendship lending an even firmer foundation to it all—and you knew, with as much certainty as you’d ever felt before, that the three of you were meant to be together.

Soon, the pancakes were done, the tea had brewed, and Changbin and Jisung were still kissing—although, they did pause for a moment to allow you to kiss both of their noses and say, “Time for breakfast, hot stuff.” You lead the way into the living room where you usually ate together, as Changbin went to finally put on a shirt.

↠↞

Changbin leaned back on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest, while Jisung leaned against his shoulder, lightly rubbing his pleasantly full stomach. On Changbin’s other side, your mug of tea was warmth enough for you at the moment.

“Um, I think we need to have a talk,” Changbin said quietly after awhile.

“Is everything- What am I saying, of course something’s up,” Jisung said, concerned—your brows furrowed.

Changbin ran a hand through his hair, then spoke. “First, I want to say that I’m in no way blaming anyone or making them bad or wrong. I just kind of want to know what’s going on.” He took a deep breath. “So, last weekend when I woke up, I ran into Chan in the hallway outside our rooms with a tray of breakfast. I knew he had to have somebody over, since he’d asked me to be somewhere else.” He looked at Jisung, who gave him a wink. “But of course I wasn’t going to ask who, right? But um, Y/N? I think I heard your voice coming out of Chan’s room, and then a lot of giggling. And, well, a really loud moan and Chan saying to be quiet because I was home.” Changbin’s gaze was so earnest and open, while Jisung’s was a bit… pained, perhaps.

You let out a sigh, having known this day would come at some point. “Shit, yeah… that was me,” you admitted, embarrassed despite the fact that both Changbin and Jisung had made you moan and beg and scream far louder than you’d done that morning. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Changbin. I had no idea you were home or anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said, resting a hand on your knee in reassurance.

Jisung made to speak, but you held up a hand. “Could I explain first? Yes, I’ve gone on a few dates with Chan. Yes, we’ve had sex. Once. I hadn’t told you yet because it wasn’t serious and we agreed—“

“But it’s Chan! He’s our best friend, babe,” Jisung blurted.

“And I just met him a couple months ago,” you replied evenly. “Just because he’s your friend doesn’t mean I was going to treat him any differently from any of the other people I’ve seen.”

“So, you’ve been seeing other people even besides Chan?” Changbin wanted to know.

“Not since the middle of December—I’ve got both hands full with you two,” you said, smiling and winking. “Things with Chan kind of snowballed, if that makes sense? After winter break, we came back and he wasn’t so weirdly flirty anymore. And you’ve got to admit, he’s attractive!”

“Y/N, just because someone’s attractive, doesn’t mea—“

“That’s not what I meant, Jisung. Not being flirted at every other day over break allowed me to see that he’s a perfectly lovely guy. It’s been fun.” You shrugged. It wasn’t as if you felt at all toward Chan like you did toward Jisung and Changbin. They were… The bond between all three of you was iron-clad and effervescent, the threads between you weaving together to form a rich tapestry of feelings, responsibilities, and priorities. “I didn’t start going on dates with him with the idea ‘Let me see how fast I can fall in love with this person’ running through my head. I- I thought I made it clear to him that things were just casual. I never promised anything, and he knew we were taking things really slow. I guess something slipped through the cracks.”

There was a beat of silence, then Jisung coughed nervously, looking down at his hands twisting in his lap. “So, you know how I talked with Chan yesterday?” he began, and you and Changbin nodded. “I asked—okay, fine, confronted—Chan about you two.”

“Oh, so that’s what the arguing was about!” Changbin said with exaggerated, only partially feigned surprise.

Jisung blanched. “Um, yeah, sorry. I saw you,” he turned to Y/N, “wearing his compass necklace and kind of lost my head.”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, grimacing. “Are you serious?”

Jisung cackled. “Yeah, sorry. You know how he— Well, I guess you don’t necessarily know, but sometimes he gets really solemn and serious, to the point that it’s almost funny. That’s how it was… Once I finally got it out of him.” Changbin put his head in his hands, knowing just what Jisung meant. “He’s head-over-heels for you, Y/N.”

“Well, shit," you grumbled, not having expected this. "And yet again, Bang Chan is cheesy as hell."

“Yeah… kind of,” Jisung sighed. “But this is different. I don’t think he knows the significance of what he did. I mean, do you even know the significance of what he did?”

“Jisung,” Changbin warned.

“No, you don’t understand. In the three years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Chan take that necklace off. Not even to go swimming. And now he’s given the thing to you!” Jisung threw up his hands, knowing that he probably shouldn’t be telling you any of this; but, he didn’t exactly care right now. “He thinks you’re the one for him, his compass. He was going on and on about how he’d felt like something was missing but now it’s like everything’s fallen into place because of you.”

“I don’t even have the thing anymore,” you felt the need to add quickly. “I slipped it back into his jacket before he left! Wearing it for a week was more than enough. I don’t like to wear chokers much, anyway.”

Jisung raised his eyebrows, not expecting you to have done that. “Really?”

“I mean, it was pretty and I thought it would be rude not to wear it.” Your statement curled up at the end like a question. “It’s not like it’s a binding promise or anything.”

“Oh, okay!” Jisung said with more excitement than was wholly appropriate. “But you might want to tell him that you’re not into him as much as he’s clearly into you.”

“I know, I know, Ji,” you said with a sigh. “I will.”

“Good. I’m glad we got that cleared up,” he said, nodding proudly. “I was worried that you’d somehow decided to break our trust by not telling us you were actually dating him.”

“What?” The word sounded like it had been punched from your gut. “I would never— I- Why would you think that?”

“I didn’t want to think that, but he made it seem like things were more serious than you say they are. I know he falls hard for people, and I trust you, Y/N—I didn’t want to think the worst.” Jisung curled his legs under himself as he settled back into the sofa.

“And what about you?” you demanded of Changbin.

“Me?” Changbin asked, his eyes wide. “I didn’t let myself make assumptions until I’d talked to you.”

Your heart hurt a little at their faith in you, that they didn’t want to believe that you’d go against your agreement, especially with their best friend. “You- You really believed me more than Chan?”

“Eh, it wasn’t between the two of you—not exactly,” Changbin responded. “Since he does fall in love or whatever with surprising depth and speed, and you're definitely sensible and cautious, it was more likely that he was the one misinterpreting things.”

You didn’t know what to say, and so simply leaned forward to gently kiss your boyfriends each in turn, leaving them smiling.

“You know, Jisung,” you said after a minute, “you and Changbin still need to tell Chan that you’re also dating.”

The two young men looked at each other, and you could almost see the words passing between them:

Shit, I didn’t tell him. Did you?

No, I thought you did. Shit.

You giggled.

“Um, yeah you’re probably right.” Jisung tried his best not to look too guilty as he looked away from Changbin. “That’s going to be such a fun conversation.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay, babe,” Changbin reassured Jisung, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

“Yeah, I guess.” Jisung leaned his head against Changbin’s shoulder, and a quiet moment stretched between you.

“So, we’ll tell him we’re dating if you tell him that you’re dating both of us. Deal?” Changbin said more understandingly than you thought you deserved.

“Deal,” you said, smiling a sideways grin.

“Deal,” Jisung agreed.

“Okay, not to totally break the mood or anything, but I have to pee,” you stated, standing up. “I’ll be right back, babies.”

A moment after you left the room, Jisung curled closer to Changbin. He absolutely did not want things to change between the three of you. Of that much he was certain, especially not when you’d just affirmed an even closer relationship than before. He didn’t want Chan’s relationship or whatever it was with you coming between what you already had with himself and Changbin. Jisung whispered, “I just didn’t want him to take her from us. Am I a bad person for wanting that?”

Changbin took a deep breath. “No,” he replied, “I don’t think so. I was thinking the same thing.”

“What should we do, then?”

“I don’t think we should do anything, Ji,” Changbin said simply. “It’s their relationship.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Love, it’s their relationship and they should figure it out. In terms of us, it’s clear she’s not going anywhere.” His tone was firm, as if Changbin couldn’t—wouldn’t—consider an alternative.

Jisung nodded and turned his face into Changbin’s shoulder to plant a kiss there, holding his lips against his friend and lover’s body. Just then, you came back into the room and sat squarely in Changbin’s lap with your legs over Jisung.

The two young men adjusted their positions slightly to accommodate you, the three of you falling into each other with such ease that one would have thought you’d been dating for years. You sighed and relaxed into Changbin’s chest, Jisung pulling you closer across Changbin’s lap as the two of you now nuzzled your boyfriend. The smell of your soap still clung to Changbin’s skin, and, despite having only been awake for three hours, you felt yourself drifting towards sleep in the comfortable embrace of your boyfriends. Jisung’s hand gently rubbed circles into your hip.

“You know,” Jisung said after a while, “I stopped seeing other people back in December when you said were jealous and had deeper feelings than you’d previously thought.”

“Where’s this coming from, Ji?” you mumbled, shifting a bit so that you sat nearly between him and Changbin. “You don’t have to reassure me or defend yourself or something.”

“It’s not that—I just wanted to tell you that because once we got together, I was so comfortable and into you that I didn’t feel like I wanted or needed to see anybody else.” Jisung leaned forward and somehow managed to wedge himself between you and Changbin, successfully resting his face against your breasts—this was not uncommon.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmmm” was his only answer as he closed his eyes.

“Not that I’d been dating other people at the same time as you,” Changbin added, kissing your hair, “but I care about you just as much as I know Jisung does. And that’s a considerable amount, love.”

You smiled softly, hardly daring to believe that you had two such caring and devoted, not to mention sexy, boyfriends who also cared just as much about each other. It was more than you’d ever expected or dreamed. As you sat there in the blissful place between sleep and wakefulness, you were overcome with the depth of your feelings for Jisung and Changbin. It didn’t scare you, no. And for that, you were glad.

A twinge of remorse flitted through you at the knowledge that your feelings were not nearly as strong for Chan, but you didn’t know him as well. Even when you’d known and been seeing Jisung and Changbin for the same amount of time, your feelings had still been stronger than what you felt for Chan. Plus, there wasn’t the same sense of being pulled inexorably toward both Jisung and Changbin like you were magnets. You couldn’t escape it even if you’d wanted to—and you most certainly didn’t.

All you could do was bring your lips to Changbin’s and kiss him over and over, until Jisung sensed what was happening and sat up to pull you against him instead. Jisung’s lips were soft and warm, like the most silken caramel you could imagine, and you were soon fully awake and kissing passionately as Changbin’s hand smoothed the muscles up and down your back. Jisung’s little moans at being so thoroughly happy and comfortable were the sweetest thing you’d ever heard.

When you raked your fingers through his hair, he became utterly lost to your touch, whining and running his hands over as much of you as he could. Changbin’s hand had moved from Jisung’s shoulders to his thigh, slowly moving higher and higher; he wouldn’t stray any further, but it was enough to make Jisung wriggle. You continued threading your fingers through his hair as Changbin smoothed his thumb along your cheekbone and you kissed along Jisung’s jaw until you encountered the slightly calloused but soft skin of Changbin’s palm. Your lips simply slid from one curving line to another as you leaned into Changbin’s touch.

Limbs, breaths, kisses utterly intermingled and where one person ended and the others began was nearly indistinguishable as the soft caresses between the three of you continued. As wave after wave of tenderness washed over you, the intensity of emotion you felt threatened to make you cry. You knew that what you felt came very, very close to love.

↠↞

Seated at the small table by the window of your usual cafe and sipping on a latte, you waited for Chan to arrive. Snow flurries danced along the street, whipped about by a surprisingly insistent wind. It had been a week and a half since Jisung had confronted him about seeing you, and, while you’d texted and called each other, this was the first time you’d seen Chan. The bell above the door of the cafe tinkled as he came through the door, shaking snow from his hair. Chan’s ears and cheeks were bright red from the cold, making him look ten years younger and extremely cute.

You stood as he approached and squished his cheeks a little between your hands while kissing his nose… to warm him up, of course. Chan laughed, and pulled you into a one-armed hug as he began to shrug off his jacket before taking a seat.

“So, what’s up, darling?” he said, leaning forward on the table to face you.

“Well, I wanted to talk about us,” you said frankly, wishing you could muster more tact and failing.

“Oh, okay.” Chan looked only marginally surprised, and waited for you to continue.

“Jisung told me that he talked to you that one day we all baked cookies together,” you began. “Do you- Do you really feel that way?”

Chan was silent for a moment. “What way?”

“Like I’m… Like I’m your compass?”

“Yeah, I do.” His voice was absolutely serious.

“Oh, Chan,” you breathed, putting your face in your hands. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

“Y/N…” Chan said, not understanding and reaching across the table for you.

“Chan, I’m really not sure what to say,” you murmured, looking back up at him. “I wasn’t expecting you to feel that strongly for me so soon.”

Chan’s hand paused just inches from your hand and he slowly drew it back to his side before speaking. “Is it that you don’t feel the same?”

“I—“ You paused. “Sorry, this is surprisingly hard. Chan, it’s not that I don’t like you or am not interested. I’m just not at the same level of feeling as you, that’s all. I don’t want you to think that I’m ready to be yours forever or something.”

Chan balked slightly, your words clearly hitting just a little too close to home. He looked down at the table, his throat bobbing once as he swallowed. “I understand. Is this why you didn’t tell Jisung we’d gone on a couple dates? Because it wasn’t as serious for you?”

“Yes,” you said simply, knowing you were treading on dangerous ground.

“Ah. Well, we can go slowly, Y/N. It’s okay.” Chan’s tone was resolute, as if he wanted to simply make everything better by stating that it would be.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to somehow shackle you when you could be with someone who’s on your same level emot—“

“I’d much rather be with you, darling,” Chan interrupted with a soft smile.

“O-okay,” you nodded. You sat there for a moment, just staring at your hands as fiddled with your thumb.

“Shall we have some tiramisu, then?” Chan asked with a wink, trying his best to break the somber mood.

You let out a huff of air that could have been a laugh. “Sure, Chan, that sounds good.”

↠↞

Changbin sighed happily as he leaned back on his couch, a glass of wine in one hand and Jisung’s hand in the other. They’d been watching a television show earlier, but now just sat together, reminiscing. Now that they’d realized and admitted their feelings for each other, and were dating, they both saw the myriad ways in which their mutual attraction had manifested over the years, unbeknownst to them. Mostly unbeknownst to them.

Jisung sat facing Changbin on the couch, one leg thrown over his lap and the other tucked under himself, tracing the lines of his boyfriend’s body. When he reached Changbin’s ear, he took his time following the spiraling shape until he then moved to his jaw.

“Bin, whatcha thinking about?” Jisung said, tilting his head to the side as he traced the faint scar on Changbin’s chin.

“The first time I realized how I felt about you,” Changbin replied, smiling lazily.

“Was that the day by the lake? With the duck?”

“How did you know?”

“Well, you know,” Jisung purred, “I thought you looked cute as hell that day, too.”

“I- Really? I could’ve sworn you had absolutely no interest. None. I still can’t believe this is real.” Changbin’s tone was wondering.

“Yeah, I did. And yeah, this is real,” Jisung reassured him, kissing his earlobe and making Changbin shiver. “I’ve definitely liked you since then. So much, babe, you have no idea.”

Changbin turned his face to Jisung and caught the other young man’s lips with his own, smiling at the slightly sweet taste of him. Jisung swiped his tongue along the seam of Changbin’s mouth and he moaned as they came together, searching every hollow and plane of each other’s mouths. Kiss after kiss, some lingering and some heated. Jisung’s hands were in Changbin’s hair as their passion consumed them, while Changbin took care to hold Jisung like he was the most precious thing he’d ever known.

They broke the kiss, gasping slightly, and Jisung brought Changbin’s hand to his lips, kissing the space behind his thumb before turning his boyfriend’s hand over to kiss the inside of his wrist. Changbin’s mouth quirked up in what might have been a smirk before the other side joined its opposite to create a softly radiant smile that made his eyes sparkle.

Just as Jisung was leaning in to kiss Changbin again—and maybe more, if he had anything to say about it—the door to the apartment clicked open and Chan’s voice floated down the hall.

“Changbin? You home, man?”

“Aw, come on,” Changbin groaned, and tried to think of a nice, freezing cold bath.

Jisung quickly scooted away down the couch from Changbin, running a hand through his hair before taking a sip from his own glass of wine. “We should really tell him,” he murmured just as Chan entered the living room.

“Oh, hey Jisung,” he said, smiling happily at having his two best friends there.

“Hey, Chan.”

“So, what were you two up to—wine?” The latter part of the question was said with only a small amount of surprise. Chan enjoyed a nice glass of Pino Grigio every now and then.

“We were just watching TV and drinking a little,” Jisung answered.

“Hey, Chan,” Changbin started, “could we talk with you about something? It’s important.”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“Well, I have no idea how else to say this— Um, yeah. We know we’re all friends, so this should be okay and all… And we know you’re accepting and understanding.” Changbin sounded more nervous than he’d been in a long time, even to his own ears. “So, yeah. We’re dating. Jisung and I are dating.” Jisung nodded in affirmation. “And we’re both dating Y/N. We’re all dating each other, actually.”

Chan stared at him for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, okay. I see it. I’d wondered if there was something more going on back at the beginning of the month. So, you two are happy? The three of you are happy?” He tried his best not to sound accusatory, despite having no reason to be; he just wanted the best for these three people he cared about so much.

“We are,” Jisung said, beaming and gently rubbing Changbin’s knee to help soothe him. “And I know Y/N is, too.”

Chan just nodded again and said, “Well, I’m glad that you two have found even more happiness. And I’m glad that you can make Y/N happy, too. Oh, and don’t worry—this doesn’t affect 3racha.” He smiled. “Look, I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll see you both later, yeah?”

“See you!” Changbin and Jisung chorused, then went back to cuddling as soon as Chan left the room.

Chan opened the door to his bedroom and sighed. He was happy for his best friends, he really was. They had something together that he didn’t have with either of them—not in a romantic way, but just as friends. And… He sighed again, leaning against the now closed door. And, he was happy that you had both of them in your life so thoroughly.

It was just that, well, he felt a little pushed to the side. After all, he was friends with Jisung and Changbin, and he was seeing you—albeit casually—but he still didn’t feel like everything had shifted properly into place. Maybe there was something missing with you. Maybe 3racha just needed to get in the studio again…

↠↞

It was the beginning of April, and the pollen had started to get to you. You let your head thump softly onto the desk in front of you, your pen slipping from your fingers to fall onto the what was soon becoming the bane of your existence: your final poetry project. It was maddening, trying to find just the right words and scansion, not to mention metaphors and allusions. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t eaten since noon, but your body felt like a withered corn husk. And, your mind would burst, if you weren’t careful; you couldn’t afford to let that happen, not three-quarters of the way through your last semester.

On the desk beside you, your phone buzzed and you checked it to see a text from Chan:

channie: hey darling <3 are we still on for tonight?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

You’d almost forgotten about your date with Chan, and now that he’d so kindly reminded you… Well, it would be rude to cancel now but you just didn’t have the energy.

You didn’t have the energy to be with Chan more often than not these days. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—you were just busy. Really fucking busy. He was fun to kiss and cuddle and be intimate with, but you didn’t have the mental fortitude to actively be interested.

It was difficult to describe… You were certainly physically attracted to Chan, and found him engaging and fun to be around. But, there was something missing. Perhaps you’d been thrust into a time-loop where Chan was concerned—that would explain the way every single one of your dates felt the same these days. You didn’t feel like your, for lack of a better word, relationship was going anywhere, like your emotions and the time you spent together were static.

He was so deeply interested in and attracted to you that you sometimes wondered if you actually felt anything for him and if all of this was simply you reflecting his own desire back at him. But then you’d come to your senses and remember how much seeing his little dimple appear would make you grin and giggle to no end.

And now, you should really respond to Chan.

y/n: hey channie. um, i’m absolutely exhausted from this poetry project… could we maybe not do anything tonight? channie: sure baby! want me to just bring over some food and we can do or not do whatever you like! y/n: i- chan, i’m sorry. i meant: can we not get together tonight. i literally don't have the energy to deal with other people channie: aww sorry you’re feeling like that. sure, darling, whatever you need. maybe we can see each other tomorrow! y/n: wow your optimism knows no bounds…. [UNSENT]

Now you were even more tired and just wanted to curl up under the covers and never come out. That would solve all your problems, right? So, with the blanket snugly pulled over your head, you drifted off to sleep.

An hour later your phone buzzed again, waking you up, but it was Jisung this time. You weren’t quite sure how he knew you needed comforting, but he did and said he’d be over soon. You rolled over at the feeling of another body depressing the mattress, and let Jisung enfold you in his arms.

The next day, Chan did come over to find you sitting on your couch with a mug of tea in one hand and a scone in the other. (Jisung was going through a bit of a baking phase, and had insisted that you try one of his cranberry and orange scones). You hadn’t gotten out of bed until an hour before Chan was due to arrive, and your hair was still piled on top of your head in a messy topknot. Chan, on the other hand, looked far too awake and put-together, even in just jeans and a sweatshirt, for a Saturday morning.

“I brought us lunch,” he said, setting a bag down on the coffee table and flopping down beside you. “I hope you’re in the mood for sandwiches, because that’s all I had time to make.”

“It’s fine, Chan. I’ve got more scones than I know what to do with. Did Ji give you any?”

“No,” Chan said, shaking his head, “I think he must have given them all to you and Changbin. That little traitor.”

You stood briefly to turn in place and curl your feet back under you on the couch, much like a cat would, then took a sip of tea. Your heart pounded slightly faster than you would have liked. “I’m sure you’ll get scones at some point.”

“I’d better…” Chan began pulling four sandwiches from his bag, clearly having thought that Jisung and Changbin would stop by.

“You didn’t have to bring all of those,” you said, frowning. “They’re not coming over.”

“Hmm? Oh, no. I brought two for me and two for you—they’re not that big, so I’m almost certain that you’ll want two.”

“Pffftt, really?” you asked incredulously, then took a closer look at the food. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

The two of you sat and stared at the sandwiches for a moment, Chan clearly wanting to break into them, while you couldn’t care less. You stared out your window at the new growth on the trees.

“Don’t you want to eat?” Chan finally asked.

“Eh, not really. Like I said: scone.”

Chan seemed to think for a moment, then said, “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Um, well… Damn it.” You sighed gustily, and set down your mug before turning to Chan on the couch. “Chan, I have no idea how else to say this…”

“It’s okay, I’ll listen, darling.”

You pursed your lips, biting your bottom lip. “Chan, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t try to feel things I don’t. I can’t try to sustain a relationship that feels like an obligation. I hate feeling like that because you don’t deserve to be with someone who can’t put one hundred percent into their relationship with you.” Chan’s face fell. “Things are just so busy for me right now, what with graduation coming in less than two months, all these projects and papers—everything. Plus, there’s Jisung and Changbin.

“I do like you Chan, and I do like spending time with you. And you’re wonderful in bed, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you. I’ve just— If I’m going to be with you, too, then I want to devote the proper time to building that relationship, instead of catching bits and pieces when there’s time. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Chan admitted resignedly. “I respect your feelings and choices, if you want to stop seeing each other. I’m sorry you feel like us being together has become an obligation. That must not feel good, yeah?” You shook your head, grateful for how understanding he was being. “If you only want to see each other randomly or just have it be like friends-with-benefits—whatever’s fine with me. I’d just love to keep seeing you somehow.”

You thought for a moment, sipping on your tea again. Not having any expectations for your relationship with Chan would certainly make things easier…

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed. “Maybe we can just see each other when we have time and if we decide to make-out or go to bed or whatever, then okay? More like just enjoying each other’s company rather than trying to date?” You looked to Chan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire conversation. “How does that sound?”

“Anything you want, Y/N. Anything.” Chan gave you a sad little smile, then stood. “I’ll just leave the sandwiches and everything here. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, anyway. I- I just need to go be by myself, if that’s okay. Bye, Y/N.” With that, Chan hurried from your apartment, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head as he did so.

You sighed to yourself once the door clicked shut, and got up to make yourself another cup of tea. By the time the water had boiled and you were back on the couch, your thoughts had ordered themselves.

Sure, Chan thought of you as his compass, the thing—well, person—guiding him and keeping him on track; he thought of you as an anchor. But you had something similar. You had a far stronger compass forged from two beings who, no matter how far you strayed, would always point you toward each other, toward home. Jisung and Changbin were your true north.

#inkidz #stayhavennet #stayracha #0325net #ultkpop #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung #3racha #.moonlight

[philliamwrites]

compromissum

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Xiao/Aether

Tags: #blood, #angst, #hurt and comfort

Words: 2.5k

Summary: [lat. compromissum: “mutual promise”] In which Xiao has made his very own contract with Aether, and in Liyue, the Land of Contracts, one who breaks their contract shall suffer the Wrath of the Rock.

Commissioner: CrystalNines

Notes: I swear, one day I'll learn how to write happy endings.

compromissum

     All is quiet. The shack hiding in the shadow of a cliff is abandoned and left to rot, its wood mouldy and old. No one has been here for a quite a long while and no one desires to visit this forsaken place tugged away in a corner of Qingxu Pool. Then, a figure breaks through the roof, destroying half of its construction.

    All air is knocked out of Xiao’s lungs as he slams onto the ground, but there is no time to catch his breath. He rolls to the side not a moment too late before a Geovishap drops through the opening in the roof and smashes into the ground right where he was laying seconds ago. It snarls, showing a row of razor sharp, enormous teeth the size of Xiao’s lower arm. The corner of Xiao’s mouth twitches as if to reply by bearing his own teeth.

    Blood, warm and wet, runs down his arm, making his grip around his polearm slippery and he shakes his head to clear the dizziness from the Geovishap’s blow earlier. There’s shouting from somewhere above his head, voices echoing over the valley with fear and worry palpable Xiao tries to ignore. He doesn’t need anyone to look after him. So many years have passed where he was out on the hunt by himself without anyone watching his back.

    But there’s one voice he’s learnt to pick out from a crowd, one that no matter when and where lures Xiao in even at a time like this when he’s facing a thirty-thousand-pound monster that can easily break his spine.

    The Geovishap charges. Xiao uses the end of his polearm to gain additional height and jump over it, its amber horn almost grazing the tip of his foot. Before the monster can turn, Xiao lunges forward, his polearm raised to strike and unbalance it, so he’d get access to the soft skin of its belly. But the Geovishap is surprisingly fast for something this big and sturdy, and it whirls around, smashing a giant fist, hard as rock, into Xiao’s side and he cries out, feeling his ribs break. Pain like someone split his side open bare-handed sears through him as he’s thrown against a wall and crumbles to the ground. Black dots dance across his blurred vision and the taste of iron fills his mouth. He spits out blood, his arms trembling from the effort to get back up.

    A shooting star crashes into the Geovishap—no, not a star. Aether. He plunges through the broken roof, fire blazing in his golden eyes as he brings his sword down on the reptilian creature in a single, deadly strike. The Geovishap roars a last time, then falls into himself and remains lifeless n the dirty shack’s ground.

    In his long life, Xiao has gotten used to seeing creatures lose their lives, often by his own hand, but it never ceased to make him wonder how something this big and wild a second ago becomes an empty shell, void of life—how easy and fast, seamless, the transition from alive to dead is. How nothing in this world cares about technicalities like good or evil for all is equal in death.

    In front of him is Aether, beautiful Aether with his sword still raised, its tip glinting in the setting sun like freshly tempered iron in heavenly fire. The sight reminds Xiao of this creature he’s read about a long time ago: Angels, they are called, that descend upon the mortal ground to bring justice in the name of something holier than them. Looking at Aether now, Xiao doesn’t struggle to imagine such a creature—the warm, red horizon illuminates his golden hair. A halo.

    Someone places a small hand tentatively on Xiao’s wounded shoulder and he recoils, finally tearing his gaze away from too beautiful Aether.

    “This looks bad,” Barbara says. For someone looking this frail, her grip is firm, and she doesn’t allow Xiao to wiggle out. “Let me take a closer look.”

    Xiao hisses, “No need.” It takes effort to get back on his feet, his muscles scream in protest but everything in him refuses to appear weak. “We still have one bounty left.”

    “Forget the bounty,” Aether cuts in, sharper than his sword’s edge. He closes the distance in a few strides and ignoring Xiao’s protests, Aether slides one arm around his waist and ducks under Xiao’s arm to steady him. “We’re going back to camp,” he declares and looks around, at Barbara and at Amber whose eyes are big and round with worry. No one objects.

    Except Xiao.

    “I’m fine.”

    “I don’t know what ‘fine’ meant for you back in your time but nowadays it doesn’t mean what you are right now.”

    “I am well aware of its meaning—” Xiao hisses when Aether leans a little too much into his hurt side.

    “Yeah,” Aether deadpans. “This sure looks fine.”

    Xiao can’t remember a time Aether has ever talked to him like that: Cold, dismissive, sneering almost. Not soft, kind Aether who starts to cry whenever one of Amber’s stray arrows accidentally hits a squirrel and they spend the afternoon burying it under a pine tree. This Aether doesn’t spare him another glance. He helps Xiao all the way to their campsite hidden inside a little cavern with a grim expression, his mouth pressed together into a thin line.

    When they finally reach their camp, Xiao disentangles from Aether and retreats to a corner further inside the cavern where a boar’s hide is laid out on the ground as a makeshift bed. It was easier to ignore his wounds with adrenaline pumping through his body but as it always does, the pain catches up to him in the end and leaves him paralysed with agony. When he lays down, slowly and carefully, gritting his teeth against any pained noise, he hears hushed whispers, his company’s mumbled conversation about him and what they’re going to do with him. Xiao doesn’t care. But this scene is familiar, and when he closes his eyes, his mind transports him to the past, to a time when the ground grew ill from soaking up too much blood and he’d lied on hard, unyielding stone that leaked grime and misery, falling into a dreamless slumber to four familiar voices.

    Xiao startles out of sleep, jolts right into awareness and almost smacks Aether across the face who dodges just in time as Xiao’s fist whirls past his jaw. They stare each other down for a long moment like two cats assessing each other to decide if they could trust each other. Eventually, Aether crouches down next to Xiao. He holds a little bamboo box in his hand and Xiao can smell the distinctive bitter note of the du huang mixture Granny Ruoxin gave them as thanks for driving off Hilichurls camping in the bamboo forest at the foot of the mountain that gently cradles Qingce Village.

    “Your wound. Show me,” Aether says quietly, even though there is no need to whisper. Looking over his shoulder, Xiao doesn’t see Barbara or Amber. They’ve left camp, probably to collect some berries or fetch water from the nearby river, which means he and Aether are alone and that’s something he’s tried to avoid lately. But that isn’t right either because it feels like the absence of a magnetic centre, and without it nothing makes sense at all.

    Xiao tries to sit up, but his limbs are still sore, and he feels like someone wrung him completely dry. The pain in his shoulder is a dull throb and he feels a rib poke somewhere it shouldn’t. His breathing is shallow, but he is breathing after everything and that is enough.

    “I can take care of it myself,” he says, his voice lowered as well as if they were talking about a small animal that might flee any second. He holds his hand out to Aether who stares at it as if Xiao has grown an additional sixth finger.

    “You’ve been with us for months now,” Aether says. “Why can’t you trust us? Why can’t you trust me?”

    Xiao’s hand drops back in his lap. In his whole life the amount of people he’s trusted can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Two had slaughtered each other, one had grown mad from the burden she couldn’t carry, one had abandoned him and the last had died by the hands of those who walked on the soil he prepared for them. Trust is a fragile thing, kept locked and hidden away and not even too beautiful Aether with his eyes and hair of golden sunshine and mind of gilded kindness could bring him to trust again.

    His silence appears to be answer enough. Aether’s eyes drop to the ground, disappearing behind a thick curtain of bright lashes like the sun setting behind the distant horizon to unimaginable places. Something inside Xiao uncoils at that sight. But then Aether does what he always does, something he’s unnervingly good at: He doubles back to strike when one least expects it. His eyes rise to meet Xiao’s and with a conviction that leaves no place for doubt or objection he says, “I don’t mind waiting however long it takes. You said to speak your name and you will appear to vanquish my demons and foes. But know that when you speak my name, I will come and carry your burden.”

    “Why?” Xiao demands.

    “Why not?” Aether asks with an intensity that Xiao isn’t equipped to handle.

    He huffs a little breath of annoyance. “I am not your problem.”

    “You’re not a problem,” Aether almost snaps at him, mirroring his annoyance like a shot deflected and cast back. Something in Xiao stutters like a flame struggling against the wind that tries to extinguish it. He remembers words Rex Lapis had told him many, many years ago after he’d saved him from the hands of an evil god that had marked him with ink that would never let him forget who he once belonged to: Even after all that darkness he should never stop looking for the light in everything and everyone.

    “Because people will come, and they will teach you about love and forgiveness. But you have to let them in, Xiao. First you have to accept this slight moment of vulnerability, and then you will be rewarded with goodness. Never lock away your heart, Xiao. It pains me to think you might be all alone forever.”

    Xiao closes his eyes, conjuring Rex Lapis’ face in his mind. What he would give if only he could see him one last time.

    Aether stirs, ready to return to his side of the camp but Xiao catches his wrist. At some point during the evening, Aether has taken off his gloves and now Xiao can see a line where they would end. The skin below is slightly paler, and his fingers are long and slender, beautiful. Hands made to be captured in coal paintings, so history won’t forget them. One part of him wants to put them to his lips and worship every single digit to engrave Aether’s taste onto his tongue, the other imagines cutting them off one by one and wearing a bloody necklace of Aether’s fingers, his own good luck charm for eternity.

    Without a word, he turns around and offers Aether his wounded shoulder. Behind him, Aether is very still first. Xiao can only imagine what horrid wound Aether’s eyes lay upon: The skin parted by jagged claws, left unattended while the blood has dried on his skin. Yaksha heal faster than mortals, but they are not invulnerable or immortal. Any other person, this blow would have killed for sure.

    Then Xiao feels a cool mixture carefully applied to his wound by warm, warm hands which doesn’t surprise him. Everything about Aether is warm.

    They sit in comfortable silence, the soft crackling of the fire in the background the only sound that fills the dimly lit cavern. Shadows dance on the wall and Xiao observes them for a moment, recognising this daemon and that impure ghost from his past until they all merge into an undistinguishable shape and he closes his eyes to block them out and simply feel Aether’s careful motions, the balm slowly warming upon his skin, the pain fading until, like everything else, it becomes a memory.

    When Aether is done, his hand lingers on Xiao’s back, his fingertips slightly grazing another scar that dips just below his ribcage. Xiao’s body tells his history in scars and he can still recount which daemon left which. Mortals tell you time heals it all and soon you forget, but Xiao doesn’t, he remembers everything. Xiao remembers everything.

    He turns slowly, and finds Aether still kneeling in front of him. Trying to meet his eyes, they are so close Xiao could count every eyelash framing Aether’s round, kind eyes. He takes Aether’s hand, a small hand, studies it and intertwines their fingers as if he already misses Aether’s small hand in his palm.“

    You know I would give my life for you,” Xiao says, for his contract to protect Liyue has been terminated with Rex Lapis’ death, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t set his own rules, live by his own contract.

    Something in Aether’s expression changes; an almost forlorn look but whatever he tries to find in Xiao’s face, Xiao can’t give it.

    “Xiao, we can still—” he starts, but Xiao silences him by lifting his other hand and grazing Aether’s cheek with his fingertips.

    “We already talked about this,” he says in a voice as if he’s trying to explain something to a child. “I serve, but I do not love. I cannot love for my first master has taken that ability and it was lost with his death.”

    His feelings for Aether could be love in a different world, a different time. But right here, right now, they are what is left of it; a shadow, only a memory. Desire maybe, worship, yes. But love wouldn’t leave this bitter taste in his mouth whenever he thinks of Aether. It wouldn’t.

    Aether looks gutted. His mouth twists, as if he’s trying to hold in tears; Xiao knows the feeling and he hates seeing it on Aether’s face, hates being the reason why Aether looks heartbroken, why he is heartbroken. In a different world, Xiao could be kinder to Aether and give him what he deserves. But in this, with marks upon him that will never disappear and the taste of dreams still fresh on his tongue as if he has never stopped devouring them, he is not what Aether needs.

    But he will make up for that. He will serve Aether until his dying breath and either fall in battle for him or remain by his side even as old age claims Aether, should he age like mortals do. It would be an honour to die for Aether and until that day comes, Xiao will stay by his side and only after that, he will allow himself to rest and let the kind, soft tunes of a flute carry his soul to the next world, hoping even one as tainted as his is allowed peace and respite. That is the compromise he has constructed, the contract he has agreed upon with Aether, and in Liyue, the Land of Contracts, one who breaks their contract shall suffer the Wrath of the Rock.

#philliamwrites #ao3 #genshin impact #xiaother #xiao #aether #fanfiction #aether x xiao #xiao x aether #aether/xiao #xiao/aether

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Ghosts

I initially had the idea to do this fic a while ago, even before I started writing my first Super Mario fic. I finally got around to it for Halloween after being reminded of the idea via coming across a fanart piece that depicted a similar idea. I'd link it because it's sort of fic inspiration but it's buried deep in the Bowuigi tag on Tumblr and in the reblogs on my main blog.

~

Of course the hotel was haunted, why wouldn’t it be? Just when he thought he was finally free of having to deal with ghosts, this had to happen. Finding the Poltergust in the garage – indicating E. Gadd was here somewhere too, probably trapped in a portrait – was a sheer stroke of luck because Luigi had neglected to bring his own ghost hunting equipment. This one was the new model E. Gadd had been telling him about too which was neat expect for the fact that he now had to use it to deal with a hotel full of ghosts.

Before getting to that though, he glanced around the garage one last time to make sure he was alone before pulling out his phone. He needed to call Bowser, tell him not to come day after tomorrow after all. They’d been planning to have him show up at the hotel a couple days later and then finally reveal their relationship to Mario and Peach because away from home while on vacation when everyone was already in a good mood seemed like a good place to do that. But ghosts had happened instead so it’d have to wait.

Though it wasn’t super late into the night yet, hopefully Bowser would already be sleeping so Luigi could just leave a message. There was a very real chance Bowser would want to come anyway to punch the ghosts over their plans being ruined and only get himself in trouble. Luigi would rather not have to try to dissuade him from that so… He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” he said. “Aren’t you normally in bed by now?”

“Uh… yeah but um… well turns out the hotel’s haunted, it was a trap from King Boo. He uh… yeah, stuff happened and I have to deal with it.” He needed to save Mario and Peach, the Toads too. “So, you probably shouldn’t come after all. We’ll have to tell them… later.” Both of them had kept finding reasons to put it off, figures after finally committing to a plan something would go wrong with it.

“He got Mario again, didn’t he?”

“Yep and Peach and the Toads and probably E. Gadd too, since his car is here but he’s not.”

Bowser grunted. “How does King Boo keep beating Mario when I never could?”

“Please not now.” Mario was in danger; Luigi didn’t want to hear about Bowser’s rivalry with him when that was a thing.

“Oh uh… all right, sorry. You okay?” All the gruff bravado was gone from Bowser’s voice now. Instead he sounded concerned which meant Luigi’s plea had been filled with more desperation than he’d intended.

“No, not really.” How could he be in this situation? What if he couldn’t beat King Boo this time? Or what if… King Boo took it further and killed Mario before Luigi could get there to even try to save him?

“Right, you’re afraid of ghosts, huh?”

“I know I probably shouldn’t be anymore.” He’d dealt with two full hauntings and captured King Boo twice as well so logically he shouldn’t be afraid anymore but alas, his fear had never been rooted in anything logical. “But… they’re still scary.” He leaned against E. Gadd’s car, holding back a grown. This ‘adventure’ had only just started and he was already tired.

“All righty then,” Bowser said as if reaching some kind of decision. “I’ll go over and beat the ghosts up for you. Except me in however long it takes my fastest air ship to get there.”

“What? No, no, no, you don’t need to come down here. I can handle it on my own.” It was too late though; the line was dead.

Luigi groaned as he flipped his phone closed to slip back into his pockets. Now he had to save his brother and friends and watch out for when Bowser arrived to hopefully make sure King Boo didn’t get him too. Could the night get any worse?

***

The hotel was rather drab looking in the dark of night, there wasn’t a light on anywhere inside it. It had looked much better in the brochures so it was a disappointment all around. Vacation wasn’t what Bowser was here for though so whatever. Maybe a dark hotel would serve as a good arena to beat up some ghosts and King Boo though.

Mario was going to be so shocked when he saw it was Bowser who’d save him this time. That would count as finally besting him too, right? Defeating the person who’d defeated him was basically a victory over both of them, right? So, this was going to be a fun outing after all.

With a signal from him, the ship flew in closer to hover over the roof. “Circle at a distance until I call you back,” he instructed the shy guy at the wheel before vaulting over the edge. In hindsight, even with how much it would’ve slowed down the ship, he probably should’ve brought in a troop of minions for backup but he’d been in such a hurry and hadn’t wanted to wait for an entire troop to get ready to broad it and now it was too late. Whatever though, he could handle King Boo and his tiny boos by himself.

He landed on the hotel’s roof with a thud, the tiles cracking beneath his weight. Glancing around he was disappointed to see that the roof was empty. What his exact plan was, he had no idea but he didn’t a plan, he’d just wing it like he normally did and it should be fine.

The roof was pretty barren and thus it didn’t take him long to locate a possible way down so he could enter in properly through a window or something. Before he could start to descend though…

“Why are you here?”

He snapped around to see King Boo had come out of seemingly nowhere. He was holding a portrait of Princess Peach, which knowing King Boo’s powerset, meant it probably was her. Bowser had given up courting her a long time ago and had only continued to kidnap her to lure Mario in for another rematch. He no longer even did that because Luigi had decided to convince him not to which had ultimately resulted in their current relationship. But it still made him mad because if anyone was going to capture her, it should’ve been him. He at least treated her right, the way a princess should be treated, not trapping her in a portrait. So…

“I’m here to kick your ass,” he said with a slight growl as he balled up his hands into fists. He would’ve preferred to start with a blast of fire but he wasn’t sure how flammable Peach’s portrait was and he wasn’t going to risk damaging it and possibly her.

King Boo raised an eyebrow and laughed. “You’ll make a nice portrait so sure, I won’t question my good fortune, let’s fight.”

Bowser lunged at him even before finished speaking, intending to grab and rip Peach’s portrait out of his hands. But King Boo floated higher, dodging with seemingly little effort. And he was out of Bowser’s range completely, such bullshit.

With a flash of light from King Boo’s crown, there was suddenly an empty portrait floating beside him. “Sorry this isn’t much of a fight, I got stuff to do,” he said as it starting glowing, pulling Bowser in.

Like hell was he gonna be turned into wall art. He’d blast the damn thing to bits with fire and then…

 -

Next thing he knew, he was indoors and looking down at Luigi instead of up at King Boo. It felt kind of like waking up after a too long nap. He breathed out the breath he’d been taking, releasing a puff of smoke instead of the mighty blast of fire he’d intended it to be. He glanced around at the room, it seemed to be an office of some sort. “What happened? Where am I?” he said as he looked back down.

Luigi looked tired but otherwise mostly fine. He had the Poltergust on his back but a different model than the one he’d shown Bowser. This one had a clear tank with something green inside it. “You were captured by King Boo and turned into a portrait,” he said. “Why did you have come? I tried to tell you not to.”

“Because I wanted to.” Bowser always did whatever he wanted.

“Yeah but why?”

“You’re scared of ghosts, I wanted to beat them up for you.” And he still would, he just had to try a little harder. There were few problems that couldn’t be solved with a good punch and/or blast of fire.

“Oh uh… thanks for the thought.” The slight blush on Luigi’s face as he lifted his free hand to rub the back of his neck was cute and made look slightly less tired. “But I um… I’m fine. I can handle it by myself.”

Bowser sighed as he crossed his arms. He wasn’t too good at reading other people’s emotions but… “You don’t seem fine.”

Luigi deflated a little, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s scary and I’m tired and… scared and stuff. Gotta save my bro though so…” he trialed off with a shrug. “You should probably go the garage but uh… I’m not sure how I’m going to explain your presence to E. Gadd and the Toads, that’s going to be awkward but I’m not sure where else would be safe.”

“Fuck that, it’s personal now, I’m going to beat up King Boo.” No way would Bowser ever stand for such a humiliating defeat. So he turned to march out the room.

Before he could take more a few steps though Luigi grabbed his arm pulling him back. Bowser could easily just drag him along or pick up and carry him with him or even just shake him off entirely but didn’t.

“You can’t,” Luigi said. “He’ll just turn you into a portrait again so… please don’t. I already have to save Mario and Peach, I don’t want to have to save you again too.” He sounded desperate and scared and… it made Bowser feel bad. “So just… let me do it.”

“You’re scared of ghosts though.” So he shouldn’t even want to do this.

“Yeah but… you need special equipment for hunting ghosts and… I’ve never lost to them so… I can handle it.” He was full on hugging Bower’s arm now, making it even harder to pull away.

Bowser could only sigh at that. “All right, fine, I’ll just help you then.” He could do that much at least. “I’m not letting that bastard get away with beating me so easily and I’m not letting you face the ghosts on your own when you’re so scared of them. And there’s nothing you can do to convince me to hide in some stupid safe place instead.”

Luigi looked like he wanted to protest but sighed instead as he rested the side of his face against Bowser’s upper arm. “Okay, that works, I guess. It’s… kind of nice to have some company anyway I suppose, it gets kind of lonely sometimes.”

Bowser grunted instead of trying to come up with a reply because he wasn’t sure how to. “Let’s go,” he said instead, gesturing towards the rooms exit. He wanted to see how Luigi fought ghosts, he’d been curios about what that was like ever since Luigi had told him about it. “I can’t wait to see the look on Mario’s face when I help save him.”

Luigi chuckled nervously. “That’s uh… certainly going to be an interesting meeting.”

#My writing #super mario bros #Luigi's Mansion #Bowuigi #canon divergence #established relationship #Luigi's mansion 3

[jokertrap-ran]

(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) New World: PARADISE Clarence Route Translation (Chapter 3-3 力量与代价 : Ability and Price)

*For All Time Master-list / Clarence’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Route tag will be #Memories of the Falcon

I never thought that it’d be way more tiring fetching water than it was fighting a big bad battle with The Fallen. 

Simply because… The painting spirit couldn’t do it in my stead. And my physical capacity was only average.

It took me three full hours just to get all the water pouches I had on hand filled.

Upon picking up my big backpack that was packed full of spring water that I’d collected from the Green Isle, and embarking on my way back, I felt absolutely and utterly miserable deep down on the inside.

The bag was stupidly heavy, and the only thing that could help me, Clarence’s motorbike, had already left along with his person. Hence, I could only huff and puff as I trudged down the cable-stayed bridge one step at a time… 

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Ugh. Everyone says that the nights are terrifying; but I think that this manual labour of carrying and transporting water in the day is much harder work…

The sun had already begun to set by the time I reached the area where the drawing canvases were set up. I dejectedly thought about how I was probably only going to be able to deliver this life-saving water not long before the big battle, in the early hours of the morning tomorrow, at the rate I was going.

Huh? I seem to vaguely hear… The sound of a motorbike?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Turning, I saw Clarence’s motorbike come to a halt before me.

And then, he walked right up to the canvases, taking in the view of the Green Isle from here.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Following his line of sight, I could only see the sunset dying the sky and water alike pink.

The setting sun was just about to pass the horizon, with circular ripples breaking across the surface of the waters, shimmering with what seemed like a sprinkle of gold powder, and the Green Isle at the heart of it all. The waterbirds followed the glimmering waves, flying low and keeping close to the surface of the water, as if they had reached the peak of the rosy clouds up above.

...Every time I gazed at the Green Isle; I couldn't help but to think that it doesn't look like something that belongs in Paradise. 

It was serene and beautiful, like something right out of a scenery painting, frozen in time, and had absolutely none of the industrial vibes.

Clarence: The sunset on the waters… is so vastly different from that of the Desert's. It's only a pity that the Green Isle only lives up to An Xihan's description of a beautiful and ideal town when you look at it from afar.

Clarence: Walking closer will only let you see a crowd of people making it absolutely filthy, by dirtying up the place and messing up all the plants and fauna.

…He's really good at being a wet blanket at any given moment just by uttering a couple of lines.

▷Choice: Are you very… Disappointed in this place?

Although my shoulders, waist and legs, were all hurting like hell, I could stop myself from opening my mouth and asking him that.

He turned his head to look at me.

Clarence: A little, but not very.

Clarence: You look a little tired. Let me send you back.

▷Choice: There's no way to hitch a ride; guess I'll have to walk by myself.

Even though my shoulders, waist, and legs were all hurting like hell, Clarence didn't seem to have enough of a reason to offer me his aid.

I didn’t have the opportunity to ask him if I could hitch a ride anymore, and I still had to transport this many water pouches back; So, I might as well just get a move on as soon as possi——

I hadn’t managed two steps before Clarence stopped me in my tracks.

Clarence: Wait, I’ll send you back.

Clarence: More of The Fallen will come tonight, stronger ones. So don't unnecessarily waste your energy during the safe period.

His logic was calm and rational enough, leaving me unable to refute him otherwise.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I sat on the backseat of his Motorbike, and 20 minutes later, we arrived back in the Black District.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Ah Xiao: (Y/n)! You’re back! It’s already so late… I thought that you got tired of us and really left...

Ah Xiao: Oh! ——And you have Falcon with you!

Ah Xiao: Is he here to help us too!?

Clarence: No.

Clarence dropped a direct refusal before disappearing round the corner of the building.

Ah Xiao stuck his tongue out, happily taking the bag from me and distributing the Green Isle’s spring water to everyone.

My body was riddled with exhaustion; upon walking into the corridors of the building, I wanted nothing more than to hurry back to my room to rest as soon as possible.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

But just as I walked in, I heard the sound of Clarence’s deep voice.

Clarence: Don't forget what you promised me yesterday.

Turning my head around, I saw Clarence reprimanding Felene in hushed tones in the middle of the corridor.

Clarence: You shouldn't tie (Y/n) down. She's not one of you guys.

Clarence: None of you have any chance of lasting till the last day of Paradise, She shouldn’t be fooling around with you guys if she really stands a chance to do just that.

Felene looked utterly ashamed as she slightly lowered her eyes.

Felene: Sorry, I passed out in the morning… I'd originally intended to let her leave in the morning.

Clarence: You can still salvage it now.

Clarence: Go over; tell her that this Association of Ability-users does not welcome her. Let her leave of her own free will.

▷Choice: She wasn't the one who coaxed me

I walked up and stood by Felene.

MC: I was the one who decided to stay here; she didn't coax me to do so.

MC: And I feel like she has helped many people out here. She's not playing around, and neither am I.

▷Choice: Remain silent

I’d originally intended to stay quiet, but I probably made a little too much movement, for they both turned their heads around to face me.

MC: ...Never mind. There’s no need for you to coax people to convince me to leave behind my back either.

I was acutely aware of the fact that finding out the truth behind the countdown was going to be no easy task. One should always seek out allies if they’re weak and do not have enough power on their own.

And it looks like Clarence didn’t really want to be my ally either… Which leaves the Mutual Benefit Association, the only other faction I can go with. They aren’t very strong, but they’re sincere enough at the very least.

MC: There’s a reason why I chose to stay in the Black District...

Clarence: There's no way you can protect everyone.

Clarence wasn’t mad. His attitude had always been cold and logical, but his words were always as sharp as ever.

Clarence: If it’s everything you want, then you’ll only get nothing in the end.

Clarence: Recklessness and solitude are the biggest downfall of all Ability-users.

With that, he turned and descended down the stairs.

I hurried to catch up with him, but he was fast, and never did give me a chance to catch up.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The icy winds of the night blew past me with not a single soul in sight.

All I could hear was the sound of the motorcycle engine getting further and further away.

“None of my business”. “Leaving without goodbyes”.

Paradise’s Clarence, “Falcon”, was a lone wolf who always kept his distance… I’d gotten so much help from him, yet I couldn’t find any chances to get closer to him...

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥Chapter of Legacy✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Previous Part: (Chapter 3-2) | Next Part: (Chapter 4)

#时空中的绘旅人 #For All Time #Otome #Translations #Netease #司岚 #Si Lan #Clarence #猎鹰 #鳥海 浩輔 #toriumi kousuke #Toriumi Kohsuke #Memories of the Falcon

[saiilorstars]

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 26: To All My Children

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x OFC

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @queenmj10​ @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Maleny succumbs to a spell that allows her to relive her time as Iris Velden, the body in which she gave birth to her son. At the end, she shares her memories with Klaus, though admits that there's a part of the story she feels she can't remember, and two then promise that they will bring their son home. But what Maleny couldn't remember will end up coming for them later on.

Because Maleny has been switched bodies once again, her temporary face claim is Adriana Louvier.

Iris Velden walked alongside Klaus in the courtyard of the Velden residence during the middle of the day. There was no one around for the attractions were inside for one of the family's daily celebrations.

Iris giggled as Klaus spoke of his younger siblings who apparently drove him mad. It was part of the reason for him being outside. He had gotten into some sort of argument with one of them and preferred to be alone.

"I must say I never heard anyone talk about their family that way," she looked at him.

"Because no one has a family like I do," Klaus said as if it were obvious. Then again, she thought he was just another human being. She truly had no idea the complications within his family.

"Well, my brother does often anger me," Iris shrugged, "but I suppose it's never been enough to get me really angry like you say you have. Still, I should like to help you distract yourself from your family troubles," she reached for Klaus' hand.

Klaus stopped walking and turned to face her, "Do you have an ideas?"

Iris blushed and looked down, "Well, I was thinking...just...spend time together…" she looked up to see his response but was met with a pair of lips pressed against hers. With a giggle, she broke the kiss and looked up at him, "I was not going to suggest something like that."

Klaus tilted her chin up, his eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips, "Then let me suggest it…" he leaned down for another kiss.

"You think we can break her out soon?" Amarrah was questionably flickering her gaze from the unconscious Maleny on Klaus' bed to Freya who stood beside her.

"No," Freya regretted to admit, and as soon as she did, Klaus (who'd been standing beside Maleny) turned on the two women.

"You did this!" he furiously stalked up to Freya, "And you need to fix it!"

Freya wished she could do so and win back her brother's good side, but she could not as the spell didn't permit her so. She shook her head, "I can't. Maleny has entered a dream induced coma-" but seeing the explanation was only making him act worse she quickly added, "But she will wake up! No later than tonight she will be up and she will be okay. Her mind is just releasing all those subdued memories - the best we can do is let it be exposed."

Before Klaus could come up with another gruesome threat he'd been throwing Freya's way, they all heard a loud crash coming from another room. The three went out to the corridor and realizing the noise was from Hope's nursery, Klaus sped towards there. Rebekah stood over Hope's crib inside a rattled up nursery while Hayley was recuperating from a clear attack.

"Rebekah! What are you doing?" he lunged for her, meaning to bring her down not to hurt her.

However, Eva cast a pain infliction that forced him on his knees. Hayley ran back to fight but with the same spell she was brought down and forced to choke. With the pain, Klaus forcibly brought out his wolf claws and gnashed Eva's thigh with them. Eva screamed and dropped the spell. Knowing she would not win then, she made a dash for the open window and jumped out for a clean escape. Slowly regaining their strength, Klaus and Hayley got to their feet and checked on Hope. The baby was sat in her crib, completely at ease and calm.

"We need to do something," Hayley told Klaus in a heavy pant. Clearly Rebekah was no longer in control of Eva Sinclair's body and it was only a matter of time until she returned to cause more chaos.

~ 0 ~

"I don't understand how this happened," Amarrah sat on the edge of Maleny's bed and gazed upon her friend, not even surprised something like this had happened to her.

Freya kept her distance for she knew Klaus would come back and push her far away if she was closer to Maleny than his liking allowed. She crossed her arms and rubbed her face, "Maleny wanted to remember more of her son, so she asked me to perform a spell. I warned her of the side affects and she said it was fine. I never thought it would actually happen."

Amarrah didn't display the same anger Klaus did towards Freya. She only sighed and patted Maleny's hand, "Maleny would, of course, take the chance if it meant she could remember her long lost son. I'm not mad with you, Freya, I'm mad at the luck she has. To not even remember she had a son…"

Freya had long been examining Amarrah - the moment the woman walked in with a French accent actually. She stepped closer, but still not too much. "You're one of them, aren't you?" Amarrah looked up, confused with the brief accusation. "You're a descendant of the Collin bloodline?"

Amarrah nodded. "Yes, and I suppose the story of a man and a woman dropping off Maleny's body to my oh-so-many-times grandmother was you and Nicolas?"

"Yes," Freya lightly smiled. "Thank you for taking care of her - Nicolas will be very happy to know your family has taken care of her all this time."

"We really have," Amarrah smiled and looked down at Maleny again. "Ever since I could remember, the story of the sleeping girl in the attic was told to my cousins and I. We were told that long ago, she was left at our care because evil witches had put her into a sleep curse. It was our duty to make sure no harm ever came her way so long as she was still asleep. I guess none of us ever really thought about what would happen when she woke up..."

"Where is she!?" they heard the voice of Alton from outside. Amarrah's face dropped even further when she realized Alton was going to be matching Klaus' horrible mood. This was, after all, his girlfriend's body Maleny was taking over.

Minutes later, Alton came into Maleny's room and ran straight for the brunette. "Yamilet!"

Iris was coming out of her bedroom chamber when she heard distinct shouts coming from Rebekah and Klaus. While she didn't make out all the words, she did hear Klaus threatening Rebekah which concluded with a louder shout from Rebekah followed by angry stomps going away. When Iris was sure there was no one left to see she made way for Klaus' room. He was just returning when she arrived.

"What's happened?" she whispered for fear of being overheard by someone, "I heard shouts and…" Klaus didn't let her finish and instead brought her inside his bedroom.

"Rebekah is making bad decisions as usual," was his brief response as he closed the door.

Iris had come to learn poor Rebekah was always judged by her siblings too wrongly because they didn't understand her. Crossing her arms, she gave Klaus a sharp look, "And just what exactly has Rebekah done to earn so many of your shouts?"

"She's in this phase of apparently loving someone and she cannot see it is completely wrong!"

Iris chuckled, confusing him, "Oops, I suppose this would be my cue to leave as well, then?"

Klaus' anger simmer upon hearing her words, unable to return the playful banter, "Things are different with you, love," he walked up to her and cupped her face, "You are nor treacherous nor a liar."

The smile widening on Iris' face assured Klaus he had chosen well with her, "I am glad to be on your good list. But perhaps if you listened to Rebekah's words then you could try to understand her."

"Rebekah has a way with words that leaves me wanting to cut them off," Klaus rolled his eyes and dropped his hands from her face.

"Well, someone has to listen to her…"

"Someone did - Maleny had the patience we all lacked with Rebekah." Klaus blurted before realizing. When he did, he felt the pang in his heart scold him for bringing her up.

Iris warmly looked at him, understanding his guilt. It would happen on occasions now, slowly less and less but it was still strong enough to make him feel guilty for it. She reached for his arm, gently making him look at her, "It's fine," she whispered calmly, "Bringing her up is not some sort of sin, you know."

"I know," Klaus gave a small nod, "But it's…"

"Complex?" she finished and received another nod in response, "Well of course it's complex. It's a first love, my dear. Those are always difficult. But it is possible to move on from when proposed. Remember, under the stars?"

'Under the Stars' had come to turn into something deeply important for Klaus as his newfound relationship with Iris developed. It told him, it reminded him, that Maleny Rowan, albeit deceased, was now in peace. She was the stars that lit up the dark skies that led him where he wanted to go. And under those stars, he would always love her, and they would, in turn, want him to be happy - as best as he could in his situation.

Klaus gave in with a sheepish smile, "Under the stars," he agreed in a quiet whisper.

"FREYA!" Klaus' loud shout startled the blonde witch along with Amarrah. However, upon entering the room he was met with hostility from Alton who had remained by Maleny's side.

"This is why you had me leave with the pack for the bayou!?" he angrily stalked towards Klaus, but the hybrid remained unphased, "So yet another member of your family could hurt her!?"

"Um, Alton…" Amarrah's shaky voice made no effect on the wolf man. Freya knew at the moment it was better to keep her mouth shut.

Klaus was near the brink of his patience and so he calmly instructed Alton, "Take a step back and listen to what I have to say."

"We are done," Alton shook his head, "From day one I should have taken Yamilet's body to the bayou where I would protect her until the spell was broken. I am taking her with me-"

"You are not taking Maleny anywhere," Klaus cut him off, though calm his words were laced with a dangerous warning of a challenge, "And if you should try then it will be no one's fault but your own when I tell dear old Yamilet - when she wakes up - that her boyfriend had his heart yanked out of his body."

The threat wasn't taken lightly by Alton - it infuriated him more the situation was being taken so calmly, "For someone who claims to oh-so-love this woman," he extended an arm back to Maleny, "You sure seem to let your family harm her more than anyone else. In fact, you also keep hurting her."

Patience was gone and replaced by the usual murderous instincts. Klaus had grabbed Alton by the neck and pushed him against a wall, "So then, what exactly will I tell Yamilet first when she regains control? How you died or how I chucked your body out into the street?"

"Klaus, stop!" Amarrah exclaimed and went to try to get the hybrid to back off. But of course her strength was of no use.

"Don't act like it's not true!" Alton snapped, continuing with his accusations against Klaus, "I know your story, Maleny told me. How do you live with yourself knowing that you not only hurt her but now - because of you and your family - your own son was taken and turned into a slave."

"STOP!" Amarrah screamed in horror as Klaus flung Alton out of the room, the man crashing against the rails and promptly falling to the floor.

Klaus walked out of the room with all intentions of ripping the man's heart out of his body, "I never did like you," he muttered as he made way for Alton.

"ENOUGH!" it was Freya who ended the quarrel with pain infliction spells that forced both men to back down, "Now I may have done wrong but it was all Maleny's choice," she angrily told both, "and I know she wouldn't like it if she woke up to see both of you dead."

"You are the last person to speak about this," Klaus got to his feet, glowering at her for her spell.

"And yet I am but of one of the two people who could help you with Rebekah," Freya stood her ground and stepped forwards, "Now I may have indirectly caused this but Maleny will remember her son and that will make her happy. Isn't that what matters in the end?"

"I want her awake!" Klaus frantically came at her, not to attack but to turn her to the room where Maleny laid asleep, "That is what matters to me!"

Freya sighed, understanding his pain. She looked at him softly, "I promise you by tonight she will wake. Allow me to help with Rebekah in the meantime, please?"

"Alton and I can stay with Mal," Amarrah offered for extra comfort, "And I promise he will behave himself," she added with a small glare towards Alton, daring him to say otherwise. "Maleny will stay right here."

With one last glance at Maleny, Klaus agreed with a small sigh. However his threatening mood took over his face when directed towards Freya, "If she does not wake by tonight I will make sure your suffering is tenfolds than what ever it is Dahlia had put you under."

"Understood," Freya nodded and motioned for Klaus to lead the way.

Amarrah waited until the two siblings were gone before she went for Alton, "You really ought to stop picking fights," she sighed as she helped the wolf man to his feet, "Especially with Originals and one that has such a short temper."

"He needed to hear it," Alton grumbled, gently shaking off her hands and entering Maleny's bedroom, "It's his fault."

"Weeeeell," Amarrah began in a sing-song manner, "technically this isn't his fault," Alton turned on her menacingly, "I know Klaus has many...many faults," she made a face when she got to thinking about it, "but this one isn't one of them. Finn cast the spell because Mal pissed him off. And the Dahlia curse? That was on Esther Mikaelson. This is not Klaus' fault and you shouldn't blame him because you miss Yamilet. Don't forget he kind of lost Mal too in this."

Alton rolled his eyes and made way for Maleny, "At least he can talk to his girlfriend. Yamilet is lost in her own body and I can only watch as someone else walks and talks in it."

Amarrah felt sympathy for the man, able to half understand his anger directed at the Mikaelsons, "Yamilet will come back, I promise you that. But in the meantime you have to understand that everyone here is always trying to protect Mal."

"I can understand that," Alton nodded and looked at the French witch, "but they have to understand they're not the safest people she should be around with. They are a warzone."

On that, Amarrah remained silent.

~ 0 ~

Cami found Vincent in Rousseau's helping himself to plenty of bourbon. She was both glad she found him for Rebekah's sake but annoyed she found him in the state he was in. She agreed with Elijah to split and conquer for Rebekah - he, Hayley and Gia would go back to Josephine for a hopeful extension on the ultimatum given to them, Marcel would continue trying to track Eva down and she would try to get Vincent to help them.

"It's a bit early for that, don't you think?" she pointed to the glass Vincent held.

The man sighed, "You know why I'm sitting here day-drinking in the Quarter all by my lonesome? Because I'm pretty much done and through with the vamps, wolves, and witches of this town. And, from some of the looks I've been getting, they're through with me, too. So, if I'm sitting here, they don't see me, and if I drink... after a while, I don't see them, either."

Cami raised an eyebrow before tapping the photo of Eva that laid on the table, "And how many is it gonna take before she disappears?" Vincent reached to take the photo but Cami pulled it away, "You need to know that she is back and on the loose, and we need to find her before the witches do so that we can save my friend, who is trapped inside of her," and before Vincent could get a word out she added, "and simply because you choose to turn your back on us does not mean I will accept it. I don't take 'no' for an answer so…"

Cami made a motion for Vincent to get moving and or talking. With a roll of his eyes, Vincent began talking, "If Eva is back then, you need to let the witches put that body down! Eva will use up your friend, just like she did the others."

The last part caught Cami's attention, "Others? What does that mean…?"

"The first of the kids went missing two years ago. Feels like a lifetime. I was, uh, clocking in: college, work, coven. Felt like a normal life. But, um, had this woman. Met when we were sixteen years old, did our first bit of magic together... it was so insanely intense. And then the children began to disappear. First was a little girl named Amelie Dupree from Algiers. Then, Lou-Anne Hughes from the 9th, Nicholas Alseis from the Tremé. All young kids, all witch prodigies...phew... vanished into thin air. So, I put together a posse of guys from each of the covens, but the killer cloaked the kids so quickly, our locator spells was useless."

"Eva did all that?" Cami gaped at the horrors the woman was able to do.

"I was able to slap a locator spell on one of the kids right after he got snatched, and I got nothing at first. And then a car, and then a face... But that face, man- it was Eva. The love of my life. So, I caught her, confronted her... and then I saw the truth. She kept pleading with me... "Vince! Just three more little girls, Vince! Just three!"

"But...why did she need three more exactly?"

"To complete the Rite of Nines. Eva thought if she sacrificed a witch from each of the nine covens, it would create a new witch order in New Orleans. She would have been more powerful than any Elder. Any Harvest girl."

"Wait, wait, wait- but why kids?"

"Because their magic is untapped. It's pure. And, they're a hell of a lot easier to subdue."

"I never found those kids. They died; unconsecrated, unable to be with our ancestors," Vincent bitterly admitted, "Used as a source for Eva's magic."

"Okay then," Cami nodded, "So, help me find her before she takes any more lives, including Rebekah's. Help me stop her."

Vincent didn't answer right away, for he was torn with the heavy decision that now rested over his shoulders.

~ 0 ~

Freya was more than irritated to be walking with her wrists shackled with the magic-disabling manacles from the O'Connell's dark objects room. Klaus had snuck them up on her right before they left the compound and never explained why.

"I fail to see the need for these. I'm not your enemy," she told Klaus while the two walked down an aisle in the cemetery, "What happened to Maleny was an accident."

"Oh, they're not to protect me, love," Klaus rolled his eyes and yanked her into a main room of a tomb, gesturing over to a corner, "They're to protect her, the one who knows more about mind-invasion and body-jumping than all of us put together," he chucked two blood bags into the room.

Curious to see who he had locked up in there, Freya stepped forwards. She saw a hand reach out for the blood bags. As Freya studied the conditions of the woman she began to realize it was Esther.

"No!" Freya cried in horror and turned to leave but Klaus was blocking the way, "No! Stop!"

Klaus grabbed her by the shoulders, completely at ease as he turned her to Esther, "Mother? Freya. Freya? Mother," he introduced.

Esther, while still weak and almost desiccated, was in disbelief at the sight of Freya, "It... can't be."

Freya angrily turned to Klaus, "Is this some sort of punishment?"

"Esther is now a vampire," Klaus began to explain as he left her to go to Esther, "and as such, she's vulnerable to my compulsion," he grabbed Esther by the face and compelled her, "You will answer me truthfully," and right after he forced Esther up and dragged her to where Freya stood, "Now, at least everything that comes out of her wretched mouth will be honest. We're going to raid her mind for the spell to get Rebekah back and - since you have proven useless in your promise to Maleny - she's going to tell us the spell to get Mal back in her own body."

~ 0 ~

In an abandoned warehouse was Eva where she frantically applied some remedy for the horrible injury Klaus had done to her earlier. Just when she felt the remedy take effect, she found herself pinned against a wall by Marcel who snuck up the magic-cancelling shackles on her.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho! Not really keen on another witch headache!" he smirked, remarking of their earlier incident.

"Dark objects?" Eva looked at the shackles around her wrists, "How did a damn vamp find me?"

"That would be us," Cami entered the place along with Vincent, both looking not too pleased to be there.

Vincent, of course, wanted nothing to do with Eva but in the end his morality for the innocence had won him out. So, there he was. Cami's irritation originated from Elijah. After Vincent agreed to help, Cami phoned in Elijah with the news only to be then instructed to head on home while Marcel took care of things. Cami knew Elijah was trying to pull the 'trying-to-protect-you' crap Klaus always did with Maleny and she was not going to let it happen. They argued and argued over it until someone snatched the phone and compromised for the both. Hayley had declared Marcel would accompany Cami and that was that.

"Release Rebekah!" Marcel angrily got to the point and shook Eva violently.

Eva remained at ease, wearing a wide smirk across her face, "Best not damage the package, or you may never see her again. Or your little adopted witch Davina."

At that, Marcel and Cami exchanged glances of shock.

Eva wickedly laughed, "Oh, some friends you are! I've been feeding off of her for days, and you didn't even know she was gone?"

Marcel could not contain himself and slammed the woman against a table, "WHERE IS SHE!?"

Cami sped up and pushed him back before he truly hurt Eva, "Stop!"

But Marcel went against her and tried walking back to Eva, forcing Cami to use all her strength and keep him back, "I'll just torture you until you give me what I need!" he shouted at Eva.

"Torture ain't gonna do it, man!" Vincent pointed out, "Half the witches in this city went after her, she ain't say a thing."

"He's right, Marcel," Cami finally pushed the man away, "We have to come up with something better that doesn't involve hurting the body Rebekah may remain in."

"Then what do you suggest!?" Marcel couldn't help glare at her. Apparently, not only were they fighting for Rebekah, they were also fighting to get Davina back.

"Let me talk to her," Vincent's idea left Marcel and Cami surprised and frankly a little suspicious. Still, with time running out there wasn't much to debate about.

"I would have liked to travel. Yes, that is my biggest desire," Iris was remarking as she and Klaus walked down a corridor for Iris' room, "but clearly that is not going to happen in this lifetime."

With a curious look, Klaus questioned, "And why do you say that?"

"Because I am a woman," Iris gestured to herself with a chuckle, "And unwed. Without a husband to travel with I have no hopes in leaving this place."

"Such optimism for a young lady," Klaus joked, coming to a stop in front of Iris' bedroom door.

Iris gave a light shrug of her shoulders and mischievously looked at him, "Well, unless some sort of gentleman - say a certain someone in front of me - marries me," she innocently said as her fingers danced on his shoulders, "then I shall remain here for the rest of my life."

"Such straightforwardness, how can someone not marry you?" Klaus went on with her play. He stepped closer, backing her against the door, and putting a hand on her waist.

Iris pretended to pout, "I know. I am a complete delight."

"Fortunately I'm here to make you feel loved," Klaus said before placing a kiss on her lips that turned into many more.

Iris giggled and managed to break the kiss for a moment, "Ooh, am I ever so lucky."

"You are so," Klaus smirked and continued to kiss her.

Iris melted in his arms and felt like the entire world was slipping away from her. At the sudden moan that escaped from her lips Klaus pulled away and smirked at her bright pink cheeks.

Iris was not about to let him tease her about it. She wanted something different from him and she proposed to get it, "Not a word," she whispered before grabbing his face and passionately kissing him again. Before either could realize, Klaus had opened the door to Iris' room and backed her inside, promptly shutting it behind them.

Back in the tomb where Klaus kept Esther, things were still rocky with Esther processing the fact Freya lived and Freya practically wanting to shred Esther to pieces.

"My beautiful girl. My first born!" Esther tried reaching for Freya but was met with incredible hostility.

"Touch me, and I will use these chains to strangle you!" Freya snapped and raised her shackled wrists to show she was serious.

"Yes, now that we have the pleasantries out the way, let's begin, shall we?" Klaus did not hide well his impatience with the two women, "It appears that your delightful sister Dahlia is on her way to New Orleans, hell-bent on stealing my child - well, second child apparently. I need Rebekah back in her original body so she can help me destroy her."

Esther was left speechless for a minute or two while she processed just what she had heard, "Child? Second child? Dahlia?"

Klaus rolled his eyes in annoyance but briefly broke it down for the woman, "Oh, I suppose it is difficult keeping up on current events whilst rotting inside a tomb. Very well. The short version? My second child is alive. And, somehow, in one of her past bodies, Maleny gave birth to my actual first born who was successfully taken by Dahlia in that period. But due to his escape, as well as Freya's, Dahlia is now on her way to steal my second born for revenge and power. And, on the other side, the previous tenant of Rebekah's body has seized control and isn't keen on giving it up," towards the end Klaus felt almost the need to take a big breath. That was a lot of problems, enough for a lifetime.

Esther was gaping at all she had heard, "But…"

"Oh, I'm not finished," Klaus wagged a finger at her, "Young Freya here, although powerful, lacks the spell to put Rebekah back in her true body. And that's where you come in. I need you to be a dear and dig deep into that ex-witch mind of yours," he pulled out a folded pack of paper from his jackets pocket and forced it onto Esther's hand, "Give me the spell that puts Rebekah back. And, since your son Finn decided to play a nasty game with Maleny, I need the spell to put her back into her own body as well. He's locked her into a new body with this mark," he unfolded the paper and tapped on the symbol that Maleny bored on her body, drawn by Amarrah who'd been studying it for such a time now.

Esther glanced at Freya silently and immediately saw it was all true. While being branded as evil and sadistic she did always want to help her children, and even Maleny who wasn't hers. She never intended on actually hurting them. Grumbling, she nodded and began with the task of the spells.

Time seemed to pass so very slow, and with the impatience Klaus had he stood right beside her ushering her to hurry up. "What is taking so long?" he rolled his eyes, "You didn't tarry when you attempted to kill my child!"

Esther stopped and looked up, apparently hurt, "I took no joy in that! I knew if your daughter lived, Dahlia would come, not only for her, but for all of you if you stood in her way. And however you may despise me, I would not wish that upon you."

"How touching!"

"Isn't it?" Freya had to agree with Klaus' sarcasm, "I always wondered what maternal compassion sounded like. Of course, I wouldn't know, since you sold me into slavery at the age of five!"

"When I made that bargain with my sister, I had no idea what it meant to be a mother!" argued Esther, "I thought if I had a dozen children, I would not miss the one. And then, you were born. You were beautiful. You had a light about you that put a smile on the face of the hardest man I had ever known. And when Dahlia took you, I thought that same light might warm her embittered heart. That you might lead a good life."

"A good life?" Freya had a good scoff and stomped up to Esther, "You were my mother! You should have come for me!"

"Yes. I should have," Esther said calmly before her tone took a sudden cold turn, "But, it would have been a mistake," her eyes flickered to Klaus, "The same mistake you will be making if you let this girl help you."

"For God's sake, speak plainly!" Klaus motioned with a hand to hurry up.

"The light I saw in Freya as a child, it's gone. While she was mine for five years, Dahlia was her mentor for a thousand. And, like her mentor, she will offer to solve your problems, but for a price."

Freya felt like she could literally strangle Esther, "There is no price! I know the…" she went for it to attack her but Klaus yanked her back by the arm.

"No violence until she's finished writing the spells, please!" Klaus snapped, "Honestly, it's all temper and no timing with this one," he joked to Esther, "for one, am glad you gave her away so that I could be born. You should think of me as an upgrade!"

Freya heavily sighed in irritation, wondering if this was typical sibling arguments. After a couple minutes more, Esther declared she was finished with the spells. Freya took a look at the spells to get a clear view of what would be needed.

"Mal's spell is fine but to place Rebekah back in her body requires an enormous amount of power," she looked up at Esther incredulously.

Esther remained at ease, "Which you have."

"And that power needs to be anchored, or I'll be lost inside Eva's mind along with Rebekah. Unlike your magic, mine isn't anchored to any one place. Because of you, I have no home."

"Perhaps," Esther shrugged and glanced at Klaus, "But, there is no other spell."

"Unless…" Freya began to think, "You," she turned to Klaus, "I can use you as my anchor. I'll channel your power while I breach Eva's mind."

For once, it appeared Klaus and Esther were on the same page of suspicious.

"And there it is. The price," Esther said, "If she channels you, she will have access to your mind, past and present. She will know everything about you."

"All of my strategies and all of my secrets laid bare to give to Dahlia," Klaus realized during his small pace back and forth, "You must think I'm a fool, Freya."

Freya rolled her eyes, "I am not acting with double reasons. You have me looking at Maleny's spell-"

"Don't confuse that, love," Klaus cut her right off, "Amarrah Collins will be performing that spell. There is no way in hell I would ever allow you to do it."

Freya took on an indignant aura after that, "Maleny has been the only friend I ever made, I would never harm her. And as for Rebekah, she is my sister and the only family who's shown me a bit of kindness. Rest assured I will not double cross you."

But that was not enough to convince Klaus.

Iris kicked and shouted to be let free as two older men practically dragged her through the forest. In front of them were two women, middle aged, and in the back two more men.

"Let me go! Let me go right now!"

One of the women in front laughed and glanced over her shoulder, "You can kick and scream all you want but it's not going to happen. It took us a while to determine whether or not you were actually Maleny, and now we're not letting you go for anything."

"What? Maleny?" Iris was thoroughly confused, and beyond terrified of these strangers. She had been on her way to find a trusted witch to determine or not if she was actually...well, with child. She had her suspicions but she didn't want it to get out before determining if it was even true. But she should have known better than to flee home during the night. She was ambushed by the two men and was now in front of several more strangers.

Iris was brought into a small village and promptly thrown near a fire in the center. She clutched her stomach and glared up at the group that was crowding around her. She breathed in rapidly, waiting for someone to explain what the hell was going on.

"Maleny Rowan, what a pleasure to meet you," an elderly woman made her way to the front of the crowd. She chuckled as Iris' brows furrowed together in confusion, "The spell has not allowed you to remember yet. That's a good thing. It's better this way."

"What is going on?" Iris' voice shook with fear as she looked around her spot. Everyone was staring at her like she was some grand prize - even the children looked in awe. "H-how do you know that name?"

"Our spell worked," the elderly woman declared to the group and bent down in front of Iris, yanking her golden chained necklace forwards for the others to see, "The mark is the chain, owned by the original body. This is how we will identify her in the next generations. Understood?"

"Yes," the group answered together.

"I-I don't understand, what's happening?" Iris got to her feet and kept a well distant from her and the woman, "I am Iris Velden and I order you to take me back to my-"

But the woman laughed, as did many others in the crowd. The elderly woman sobered first and put a hand on Iris' arm, "My dear, you are never going back there. It is time for you to live up to your word and die for our coven."

Iris' eyes widened and immediately she tried to run but the crowd blocked her way. She whirled back around to the woman, "Please," she swallowed hard, "I have no idea what you are talking about. My father, he's...he has power, and…"

"Our power does not come in the form or wealth, child," the elderly woman said calmly, "It comes from you and your death."

"But you cannot kill me," Iris' voice shook again, her eyes filling with tears while her arms wrapped around her stomach, "Please, I am with child," the news left the crowd and the woman stunned, "If you hurt me you will hurt my baby and I...I don't want that. Please, let me go."

The elderly woman got over her shock and walked up to Iris, grabbing her by the chin, "Your lies will not get you anywhere," her dark voice implied things would go bad in a very short time if Iris didn't do anything.

"Please," Iris resorted to beg on her knees for her child's life, "you have to believe me. My baby is very young, but he is inside and he is just starting to live. His father doesn't even know he exists."

"Father?" the elderly woman glanced at the crowd for an opinion.

"Maybe she hasn't met him yet," a young woman spoke up and walked up to the elder. The elder seemed to consider the idea and while she did, the young woman turned to Iris, "Who do you claim the father is?"

Iris knew she wasn't even sure about the pregnancy but at the moment it was apparently the only way she might be able to save her life. And furthermore, she saw no point in keeping the identity of the child's father a secret, "He's, um, he is a visitor in my father's residence. His name is Klaus Mikaelson."

"She lies," the elder declared instantaneously, "The man cannot possibly procreate."

"He has," Iris snapped, "I didn't know how to tell him and now he may possibly never know."

"Is it possible it has already happened?" the elder was now rethinking things.

"..what...?"

"The fertility spell may have worked after all," the elder continued on like nothing. "And as such, we should not waste the opportunity to have more power. Your sacrifice will happen, but…after the child is born, if there truly is a child to begin with."

"You are all mad," Iris began to insult, clutching her stomach once more.

Eunice had begun to come around on the idea by the wide smile breaking across her face, "Gentlemen," she called, "take Miss Rowan into my cottage. We have a lot to discover from the child - starting with is existence."

"N-n-n-n-no!" Iris began to shout as the two men who had carried her in were now coming for her again, "Stay back! Stay away from me!" but her shouts were of no use as they grabbed her again and dragged her towards Eunice's cottage.

Hope was placed on Maleny's beside beside the sleeping brunette and as if wanting her to wake up, Hope yelped every now and then and clapped her small hand on Maleny's arm. Beside the edge of the bed was Hayley who was staring at Maleny with her arms crossed and a grim, yet overly concerned, face.

"She'll wake soon, baby girl," she whispered to Hope and glanced at Amarrah and Alton who had remained in the room as they had promised earlier, "It surprises me how Hope knows it's Mal in there," she gave a light smile as her daughter continued to do everything in her power to wake Maleny up, "In such a little time she's managed to get Hope's affections."

"That's Mal for you," Amarrah clapped her hands together and walked closer to Hayley, "When I was a little girl and I first discovered that we harbored a woman in our attic that had been sleeping for centuries, I was terrified. I knew it was our responsibility to protect her, but...I was like six so...yeah, I was a bit scared. And then one day, one of my cousins dared me to go into the attic. I so scared I kept shaking," Hayley and Alton smiled in amusement as they listened in, "But when I opened the coffin and saw Mal unconscious, I realized there was nothing to be afraid of. On the contrary, I was afraid for her."

"Why?" Alton asked, even Hayley curious of the answer.

"I knew the stories of the girl in the coffin, how she was always living in lies and never being herself. I was afraid of what she could be experiencing at the moment," Amarrah sighed deeply, "I was so scared of where she could be and if she was okay. The sleeping girl in the coffin-I always wondered if I would get to see her awake in my lifetime."

"You did," Hayley gently clapped a hand on Amarrah's arm.

"But for so little time," Amarrah pointed out and moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, right beside Hope, "Ever since she woke up, Mal has never had a good moment. I'm her friend and I just don't like seeing her in these conditions."

Hope continued to yelp and let her head drop onto Maleny's shoulder, babbling to her oh-so-many things. At the same moment, Klaus and Freya entered the room.

"I see you have the wolves ready for Eva's return," Klaus remarked off-handedly while coming straight to Amarrah.

"Elijah said to gather them up," Hayley sighed, "but he's not exactly quite up for the fight since Cami ended up getting hurt when Eva escaped with Vincent."

"Ah yes," Klaus wasn't so surprised to hear about that.

Even though it was a petty injury - a neck snapping - it was enough to have Elijah ballistic of the idea of Cami still going out with Marcel to look for Eva. That was why he went out for Cami himself to the location where apparently Eva kept the missing children in. Vincent had called them in with the location, also admitting and apologizing for his rather abrupt plan of pretending to go with Eva's doings.

Klaus pulled out Esther's papers with the spells and held them to Amarrah who took them in confusion and gave them a mere glance, "What are these?" she raised an eyebrow.

"One of them is to get Rebekah back in control of Eva Sinclair's body," Klaus tapped one of the papers, "And the other is the spell to return Maleny to her original body."

Amarrah's mouth dropped open as she quickly looked at the spell for Maleny, "You found the spell!?"

"Yes, and since time is of the essence I need you to do Rebekah's first."

Amarrah's eyes flickered to Freya who, although no longer wore the shackles, looked pretty angry this was being asked to someone else. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked Klaus, "I mean, you have a sister."

"The spell requires an anchor," Freya spoke up, "and it appears my dear ole brother doesn't have the trust in me to be my anchor."

"Because you don't have a home," Amarrah realized the problem and looked at Rebekah's spell again, "I can do it. I can draw on my family's power."

"That's all that matters," Freya said, giving her a lighthearted smile, "Someone needs to save Rebekah."

"Okay," Amarrah nodded and turned to Klaus, "We can do it."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Hayley asked then, gesturing to herself, Alton and Freya.

"Stay with Maleny, of course," Klaus answered as if it were obvious. With a grin he walked over to Maleny's bed, reaching to tickle Hope beside the brunette, the baby promptly giggling in response. He then passed a hand down Maleny's hair, "Hang on, Mal. I got the spell," he whispered to her, "You'll be back in your body very soon now."

"Klaus," Amarrah cleared her throat, sheepishly waving a hand to grab his attention, "We have to go. Rebekah is literally running out of time."

Klaus nodded and straightened up, turning to head out. As he and Amarrah left the room, Alton stopped them.

"You mean that?" he demanded of Klaus, and if it weren't because Klaus too was content with the results they were going to receive he would've snapped the man's neck there and then.

"Yes, my mother gave us the spell needed to place Mal back in her own body and thus release Yamilet."

Alton's face changed into a brilliant joy and once Klaus and Amarrah had left, he rushed to Maleny, "Yamilet, you're coming back! Do you hear that? You're coming back to me again…" But while he was cheering and even Hayley and Freya were relieved to hear the good news, Maleny/Yamilet were far from hearing it.

Iris stood before a window inside a cottage, staring out to the dark sky filled with its many stars. She held in her hand the wooden stars craft Klaus had made so long ago. She sighed and rubbed her now swollen, pregnant stomach. It had been months since she'd seen him, her family and home. And now that she understood and even remembered some, she knew she would never see that residence again. Iris Velden had completely ceased to exist in her mind.

Maleny Rowan was alive. She was her.

"Under these stars," she remembered her ironic words. How could life be so cruel to make her say those words to the man she had loved for years and years.

"What is that?" a young woman stood behind Maleny, having come out of another room in the cottage. She was the owner of the cottage where Maleny was to reside during her pregnancy.

"A gift," Maleny answered briefly, hugging the wooden craft closer to her, making the woman laugh.

"I won't steal it," she went to a table where several herbs laid, "It can make a nice gift for your child when it is born."

Maleny rubbed her stomach and turned to her, "I wish to sleep. I have no intention on sticking to this conversation as if were friends or even acquaintances."

The girl, Laura, sighed and turned from the table, "Listen, Iris-"

"Maleny," she fiercely corrected. "My name is Maleny Rowan and I despise you and your stupid coven."

"You are the one that made this deal with us-"

"Because you lied to me about it!" Maleny shouted, once again getting angry this was being blamed on her, "Your ancestor told me a lie! She said I would live forever, and that I would be with my love."

"And you were," Laura gestured to her stomach, "and that is a consequence."

"This is some miracle," Maleny snapped, "But this was a miracle in some wicked story your ancestory had pulled. I do not want to live this way."

"Well, that is not up to you anymore," Laura declared coldly and made to leave the cottage when Maleny called out, her voice turned softer and meek.

"If I am to live this way...then I only plead you not force my child into this same cycle," her tear-filled eyes made Laura shift uncomfortably, "I made the deal, not my child."

"That is not up to me," Laura said after a moment, though did feel guilt for it. Maleny moved to take a seat on a chair, her feet now more fragile as she grew closer to her due date. Laura's guilt did not allow for her to leave. Instead, she found herself clearing her throat and asking, rather awkwardly, "So, um...have you thought of any names yet for the child?"

Maleny raised her gaze to the woman, confused of the question. Over the course of her pregnancy not one person had cared enough to ask how she was doing nor how she felt. Perhaps for that reason she had decided to answer Laura's question.

"I am not sure," she rubbed her stomach, "If it is a boy, then...I was thinking of Nicolas."

"Why that one?"

"Because it sounds like his father's name. And if shortened, it will be exactly like his," Maleny began to smile at the idea, "Nick?"

Laura smiled lightly, "That's a nice name, then. It has a lot of meaning. What about a girl?"

Maleny's smile widened. "Marlenie. We always wanted a 'Marlenie'. But, I just really hope the baby does not inherit his temper."

"Is it that bad?"

Maleny scoffed, "Imagine the worst temper possible and then chuck it out the window because it will never measure to Klaus'. God help my baby if he does inherit that."

Laura chuckled, for a minute forgetting who she was talking to, "My mom used to say that I had my father's impulsivity and that is why I would never get married."

"Used to?" Maleny had picked up on the key words and her stomach churned as she assumed what that meant.

Laura sighed, "I lost my mother when I was a little girl, unfortunately. My dad's off in a battle so I'm here on my own."

Maleny could feel a small empathy for the woman, having practically lived in the same conditions, "I lost my mother when I was girl too. And, even though my dad was still around it felt like he wasn't. He absolutely hated me."

"Why?" Laura frowned.

"Because I was born a girl and my mother didn't stick around to bear him a son. So, I was more like a slave to him than a daughter."

"I am very sorry about that," Laura honestly said and Maleny knew it, "I don't feel very lonely out here, though. Our coven is united."

Maleny made a face, wanting to say 'of course, united over my looming death' but she felt Laura was being kind enough for a minute and she wanted to keep it that way. "I didn't feel very lonely either," she admitted with a small smile, "I had the Mikaelsons with me and they were enough."

"Enough for you to get yourself cursed," Laura blurted and gasped once she realized.

"I didn't get cursed because of them," Maleny corrected calmly, "I did what I did because I wanted to secure myself a good future with Klaus. But he, just like the rest of his family, is not to blame for what I got myself into. Just like this little one," she rubbed her stomach, "does not deserve to get pushed into the life that awaits me," realizing where Maleny was headed with in the conversation, Laura shifted and tried to leave but Maleny was quick in her talk, "Laura, please. Kill me if you must but let my child live. Let him live until he is old enough to leave and find his father. Don't curse him because of my choices."

Laura stared at the woman for a long while, and in that while Maleny began to weep again, her hand clutching the wooden starcraft in her hand as if her life depended on it.

Amarrah cursed herself for ever thinking this was a good idea. The amount of power the spell required to get Rebekah back was taking a toll on her body and if it weren't for the two Originals practically keeping her on her feet she was sure she would have passed out a long time ago. She had conducted the spell needed and had sent in Marcel and Vincent to help Rebekah fight Eva off and regain control of Eva's body. However, there seemed to be a fight inside and it was only making it harder for Amarrah to keep the spell going.

Inside, the war was waging at terrible costs. Eva had knocked out Marcel across the room and was almost to the point of killing Vincent herself when she felt a stab on her back. It had been done by a young aged Rebekah who remained stoned-faced as Eva fell over Vincent and gasped for air.

The force of the spell pushed everyone away from each other and onto the floor. Vincent and Marcel woke up with loud gasps.

"Please tell me that worked," Amarrah raised her head with a heavy pant.

"You're the witch," Cami said, not too far from her, "you tell us."

"Oh...right…" Amarrah blinked and glanced over to Eva where Marcel was already carefully checking her.

They all started hearing several noises and so Cami went to find its source. She was relieved to see it was Davina waking up from her slumber on behalf of Eva's plan.

"Where am I?" the young teen looked around, barely remembering anything. After a couple minutes, more of the other children were beginnign to wake up along with Josephine who had been taken at the last minute by Eva and Vincent.

"You're okay," Cami laughed and gave her hug, "Oh thank God!"

"What the hell happened?" Davina struggled to stand on her feet for a minute but eventually got it down, "I remember Rebekah coming in and then…"

"Best not to think about it too much," Cami made a face then patted the girl's arm before taking her back to where the others were.

Klaus and Elijah were looking over Eva who had yet to wake up. Concerned, Klaus glanced to Amarrah, "Why isn't she waking?" unsure herself, Amarrah gave a big shrug.

"I did everything the spell needed me to," she promised him and raised her hands in solemn swear.

Thankfully, 'Eva' gasped awake then and looked around, exclaiming words only said by Rebekah Mikaelson herself, "Bloody hell!"

"Mummy! Mummy!" cried a young boy of a mere five years old. He was cheering for himself as he picked up his small wooden craft and hurried to where his mother was, "Mummy, look what I did!"

Maleny was helping Laura prepare some sort of spell when the boy arrived and tugged on her dress for her to look down. She chuckled and mishapen craft he held, "And what is that supposed to be, Nicolas?"

"Like the stars!" he happily replied and waved it in the air, "Like the one daddy made!"

"I think you could compete with him, you know," Maleny knelt down in front of him, "He used to make a lot of these but I don't think they were ever as good as yours."

Nicolas crinkled his nose and declared, "You are lying, Mummy," he accused, "But I don't care because I'm going to get better and then I will compete with daddy and win him!"

Maleny chuckled again, "Of course you will, sweetheart."

"Do you think maybe Ma-"

"Maleny?" Laura whispered suddenly, causing Maleny to glance at the woman, "Don't you think it's time to tell him that-"

Maleny knew where Laura was heading and tried to hurry Nicolas towards the doors, "Nicolas, go outside and play with your-"

"Maleny," Laura said again, "Six years of age is coming and you know what that means. It's time to reveal the truth."

Maleny knew exactly what that meant. And knowing what was to come of her made her eyes fill with tears again, the only thing stopping her from bursting into sobs was her son still happily babbling on to himself about his wooden creation.

Back in the compound, Rebekah was explaining to Klaus and Amarrah the reason for her choosing to stay in Eva's body - she needed to help resurrect Kol. Along with that existed the fact the children used in the spell by Eva were still linked to the body and if Rebekah were to leave it they would all die, including Davina.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Amarrah couldn't help ask three times in a row, "Because I assure you I can do the spell."

Rebekah smiled and shook her head, "I need to help get Kol back and being in this body can help me do it. Is that a problem?" she asked, more for Klaus than anyone else.

"Of course not," he replied rather fast, "Keep your promise to Kol."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, almost amused at his impatience. They all knew what he was waiting for and it was frankly novelty to see him excited for something that didn't involve the death of someone.

"I should warn you that I can't do the spell until Maleny has woken up from her dream coma," Amarrah told Klaus, as if reading his mind she smirked, "So quit waiting for that to happen tonight."

"Simply because you are friends with Maleny does not mean I won't hesitate to hurt you," Klaus replied with, narrowing his eyes at the unaffected woman.

"Actually it kind of does - hurt friend," she gestured to herself, "means mad Maleny, and made Maleny equals shouting at Klaus which really has no happy ending you see."

Rebekah watched the exchange of sarcasm with a chuckle. She grabbed Amarrah's arm and gently pulled her away from Klaus, "C'mon, we have a lot to work on since you're going to help me practice this magic stuff."

"I am?" Amarrah made a face as she started to walk away with her.

"Did I forget to mention to that?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"Well there you have it!"

Klaus rolled his eyes at the two and headed out of the lounge room, intending on staying with Maleny for the night until she woke up. He bumped into Hayley instead just outside in the corridor.

"I can't find Freya," Hayley announced as soon as she saw it was Klaus, "She disappeared over an hour ago."

"Let her," Klaus shrugged and started for Maleny's room when Hayley called again.

"You know, if you're going to want her to help us you're going to have to be a little nicer."

"I reserve that notion for people I deem likable and I've yet to decide on her status."

Hayley rolled her eyes and walked up to him, "That woman is here to help us. If she wanted to do more harm she would not have stayed here to look after your comatose girlfriend," and at that small insult Klaus nearly lost it but Hayley was guilty enough to retract from it, "I'm sorry - you know what I meant. You need to trust a little more to get people on our side. You lost one kid, you wanna lose the second one?" she knew those were harsh words but it was the only way to get the message through to someone like him.

However, Klaus didn't reply due to familiar noises not too far away from him and Hayley.

"Klaus?" Maleny stood just at the doorway of her room, looking fragile and weary. Her mind was buzzing with new memories and new feelings while her body screamed for her to go lie down again. But, there was one thing that overpowered it all, and as Klaus quickly returned to help her, she voiced it outloud, "I saw him," she breathed and clung onto Klaus like her life depended on it, "I saw Nicolas…"

~ 0 ~

"Mal, you really ought to get back to bed," Klaus told the brunette as she took a seat in the lounge's couch.

Though clearly needing more rest, Maleny had refused to go back to her room, claiming she was tired of being there. She looked at him with a smirk, "If I had a dollar for every time you used that one on me in my lifetimes I'd be rich enough to own the Quarter."

"And that's how I know you're getting back to normal," Klaus dismissed the comment with a roll of his eyes and joined her on the couch.

As soon as he did, Maleny turned to him with that big smile of hers, "Klaus, I saw him. I saw our son. He was…" she couldn't find the word to describe Nicholas as much as she wanted to, "...beautiful," she settled for.

The revelation still seemed to put Klaus on edge. The idea of having a son with Maleny was more than shocking enough, but now to have clear proof of it was something else. But for Maleny the stage of shock had passed with all that she saw. In her excitement she got up and started to describe what she saw of Nicolas, "He looks like you! He has your hair, your eyes and your crafting skills - well that last one was in developmental stages cos he was - oh," in her excitement she had overused what little strength she had left and stumbled.

"Mal," Klaus has gotten up fast and caught her by the waist, "this is why you need to go to your room and rest."

Maleny shook her head in refusal, "You have to hear more. Please?" she insisted softly, looking up at him with pleading blue eyes that reminded him who was really in charge there unfortunately.

With a deep sigh, he settled them back on the couch, refusing to let her go for another of those excitement moments that could very well have her falling to the ground. It didn't look like she minded too much sitting on his lap as she comfortably snuggled closer to him and rested her head over his chest.

"You should have seen him," she said again, her voice laced with the tiredness she was refusing to fall under, "I only saw certain memories up until he was five. But he was amazing."

"Tell me then," Klaus suggested, wishing he could see for himself those images. Since they were barely resurfacing in her mind they wouldn't be too clear to view. Besides, her mind was probably weary already after so many new memories had resurfaced.

"He was incredibly smart," began Maleny.

"Well, he clearly had somewhere to get it from," Klaus cleared his throat and earned a whack on the chest, making him laugh.

"Nicolas was a little copy of you when you were a boy, I remember it. He wanted to show everyone his little crafts. When he got a tantrum, which were often, he would turn into this fierce little boy."

"I...don't know where he could have gotten that from," Klaus feigned innocence as he looked around the room.

"You cannot deny he is your son,' Maleny playfully joked, "Not with that awful temper binding you two together. But it was okay, because it reminded me of you during that time. Thanks to a brief friend I made, the witches only allowed me six years of his life to before I was to be killed."

Klaus held her tighter, the bile of guilt rising within, "I'm sorry for not being there."

Maleny looked up at him, not at all sad, "I don't care. I'm happy right now, I got to see Nicolas and now I know I want him back faster than ever. I want to see how he's grown - I want him here with his little sister, and with his family where he belongs."

Taking her hand into his, Klaus said, "And he will come back to us, I promise. I know I make those promises and rarely come through but this time it will happen. You will see your son again, Mal."

Maleny smiled, "I know it. I don't know why you always act like you fail me so much. Partially it's my fault for never keeping my nose out of trouble."

"Well, that would make things a lot simpler I can't deny…"

Maleny chuckled and once again looked up at him, "But that wouldn't be me, and you don't want that other me, right?"

Klaus gave her a long look, and while the face he was looking at wasn't hers, he still felt beguiled by her beautiful features of within, "I want my Mal who never listens to me."

"And I want my bad-tempered hybrid," she replied back and as seconds ticked by Klaus watched her smiles fade and a distant look take over her eyes.

"What is it, Mal?"

Maleny looked away from him as she felt another memory try to come through but she lost it just as fast as it had come up, "It's just...I feel like there's something important I didn't get to see – like there was something else to the story."

"Like what?" Klaus took that as a red alert. Anything not remembered had proven to be dangerous or at the very least agitating for them later on.

"I don't know," Maleny sadly said, "But I just know it's important…"

For the moment, Klaus would let it slide. He rubbed her arm up and down and kissed her hair, "Perhaps it will come to you later."

"Perhaps…" Maleny whispered and rested her head on his shoulder, choosing to relish in their moment instead. She was actually very tired, but she didn't want to be anywhere Klaus wasn't at. Besides, the memory would probably resurface later on. And if it didn't, it probably wasn't that important.

She was wrong.

Early 11th century.

A grand party was being celebrated in the Velden residence for one of the nobles. Everything was going as planned with the celebration until one of the double doors was flung open by a guard who was thrown inside. The music stopped and the guests looked upon the guard who was definitely dead on the ground. It appeared he had blood oozing from his neck. Just like that came two more guards that shared the same injuries.

"Mmm," the nobles heard coming from the doors.

"Who's there?" One of the Velden nobles demanded as guards from the room came to the opened door, "I demand you show yourself."

"Wow, that is delicious," they heard a young English woman's voice and a couple seconds later she walked in holding a guard by the neck.

The sight of her was appalling yet no one dared to move. Her fangs were displayed for all to see, and the trail of blood led down to her neck and parts of her tattered dress.

"Nobles always do have a better taste," she declared. She let the guard drop to the floor and opened her arms in a very familiar way, "Well, don't let the celebration stop - I do like to be honored."

"What in heavens sake are you?" the same noble from before asked.

"One very special woman, sir," the woman could almost promise. As her tongue licked off the blood from her fangs, her hand pushed back strands of her long, black hair, "I believe you know my mother? She was one of you, you know - Iris Velden?" She watched with satisfaction as the crowd went in awe and confusion. "And my, my it has taken me a long time to find you all. But now that I am here, I expect to be welcomed. If not, well…" she pretended to flick something off her nail, "...that's one catastrophe I won't be happy to cause."

"Iris Velden disappeared more than 10 years ago," the noble declared, still meaning to be brave but it was crumbling quick.

"Oh yes, and for very awful reasons," the woman wickedly smiled, "But I am here because if I cannot find my brother nor my father, then I shall have to make a home for myself in the meantime. This will be my home now," she walked forwards, "My name is Marlenie Velden - well," she smiled to herself in thought, "That shall be my name to the outsiders. In here," she gestured to the room, "You will address me by my true name: Marlenie Mikaelson."

Author's Note:

THIS was the second twist I was waiting so badly to release! Haaaa, did you guys think that one was coming? Twins? Well, even if not, I present to you the Mikaelson twins - Nicolas & Marlenie ;). (Marlenie being pronounced as Mar-leh-nee'. The middle 'e' is a short 'eh' sound!

#ocappreciation #the originals #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagines #the originals imagines #klaus mikaelson fics #the originals fics #tvd #tvd fics #oc: Maleny Rowan #oc: Nicolas Mikaelson #oc: Marlenie Mikaelson

[vikingsarememes]

His True Wife

                                               ↭    part one   ↭                                next part

Main Characters: Ivar the boneless, Reader.

Characters Mentioned: Freydis, Hvitserk 

Summary: you are Ivar’s second wife, the only problem is that no one knows about the two of you. 

Word Count:  1556

A/N: I’m trying something new which is to write an actual full-length story with chapters and all, this is basically the pilot, let me know if you want me to continue the story!

warnings: none

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You and Ivar were married in secret, shortly after he got married to Freydis, he found out about her treason, he also found out he had feelings for someone else, you, you were a friend of the Ragnarssons, a farmer, but not a shieldmaiden, they always teased you about it but you never cared, combat wasn’t what you were passionate about.

The two of you had the perfect relationship, behind all the anger Ivar showed, he was nothing but a sweet, scared, insecure man, who wanted to be loved, be held, be told that he’ll be alright, he wanted to feel wanted, he wanted to feel human, you gave him those feelings, while Freydis, she made him mad, she manipulated him the way she wanted, even a man like Ivar the boneless can be manipulated by a little smile, a few kisses here and there and sweet talks, you hated the woman, she never cared about him, not the way you did at least.

But Ivar swore that you are the one who has his heart, and when the time’s right, he’d make you his queen, you saw him, the real him, while Freydis used him, used his weaknesses to rule, it wasn’t fair, not for him, not for you.

Your husband sneaked into your hut, far away from the center, far away from the noises and knocked on the door, two times, that’s your code, you opened the door and greeted him with a hug and a kiss “my love! You’re back!” you exclaimed, closing the door after he limped inside, the chair was near the fire for him, a glass of mead on the table next to it, but on the left, near the fire to keep it warm, that’s how he liked it, you knew because you cared Freydis would never notice those small details about him.

“I’m finally home” he whispered at you and kissed you back, once again “come, sit with me, I missed you wife” he spoke as he made his way to the chair, sitting down, taking off his leg braces, with you he didn’t need them, he didn’t struggle to prove himself, he was safe and he knew it, that’s why he’d drop the crutches and the braces, that’s why he’d tell you if he’s hurt or sad, that’s why he’d open up to you, and only you.

You sat on his lap and cuddled his chest, he stroked your hair, so gentle, taking his time to treasure every moment “how’s your week been love?” you asked, he sighed and took a deep breath “you are married to a god now, I’m worshipped don’t you know?” he said, laughing at how ridiculous that sounded “I’ve heard stories about Ragnar being descendant of Odin” you shrugged, he shook his head no “Ragnar was nothing but a man, misfortuned man, who couldn’t love” 

“If you think so then why did you agree on being a god?” you looked at him, carefully studying his face, wanting to know whether you stepped out of your lines or not “because she told me I was special” he said, biting his bottom lip, he knew how you hated hearing about her, but he didn’t want to hide anything from you, “I tell you that all the time” you protested, pulling away from him a little bit “it’s different when you say it, you touch my heart makes me know that no matter where I go, I’m special to you and that all that matters, but when she does, she drives my soul mad, she makes me want to prove myself, I hate it” 

“No you don’t Ivar the boneless, don’t mock me for stupid” you demanded, upset “Y/N, please! I think you are a blessing of Freya! Don’t question how I feel about you!” He pleaded desperately “I don’t wish to hear about her” you huffed and he nodded, taking your hands into his, kissing them several times until you crack up a smile “I would do anything for you, and you know that, you are my wife and the love of my life, everyone else is here for a purpose, while you’re here because I love you” he whispered to you, and you sighed “alright, you’re forgiven” he picked the glass and sipped some mead, his free arm wrapped around your slender body, closing the distance between the two of you if it wasn’t for the fabrics.

“What about you? How’s your week?” He asked you rested your head on his chest “my goat, Thrys gave birth to three healthy babies, I named them Fry, Freder and Freyon after the gods, so they bless us with milk and meat! Hvitserk visited as well, he seemed troubled, look after him for me would you?” You looked at him when you said the last sentence, clearly, he wasn’t happy about it “he visits you a lot my brother, don’t you agree?” He said annoyedly “Ivar he’s my friend, he rescued me” you defended.

“Is he now? I wonder if he’s as friendly with you as I was? Or perhaps you enjoy his company for the things he does to you when I’m not around?” You looked at him with disbelief, you stood from his lap and looked at him “I cannot believe you! A week! I heard nothing from you for a week! And that’s how you treat me? With false accusations and disrespect? I’m going to bed. Husband” you growled and walked to your bed, closing the curtain that separated your sleeping area from the living room, you laid under the fur, angry, but mostly hurt of how the love of your life thinks of you.

You could hear Ivar grunting from his place, it didn’t take him long until he crawled to bed next to you, hugging you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder “you are right, I’m a poor excuse of a husband, and I didn’t mean to upset you, I can be a little skeptical about my brother’s intentions, being away from you makes me feel jealous, I don’t like sharing” he mumbled, you turned to look at him “I don’t like sharing too, but I’m doing it for you, that’s how much I love you, yet, you accuse me of having an affair with Hvitserk” you pouted.

“Y/N, please, I said my apologies, I’m only here for a short while and I need my wife, everyone else is angry at me, or trying to hurt me, please, take me to our world where nothing matters” you sighed and turned your body so now you’re facing him “come” you opened your arms and Ivar didn’t need to be told twice, he got under the covers and between your arms, you placed a kiss on his forehead “I wish things  were different, I wish our lives were different and we belonged to each other” you whispered, he looked at you “we belong to each other” he corrected “perhaps it’s better like this, I feel something bad will happen, and perhaps because no one knows about us, you will survive it” 

His words made you frown, you rarely went to the town, not unless you have goods to sell and other to buy, your farm was filled with everything you need, and the Ragnarssons gave you few slaves to help you with the work, it only made you question how bad it is in Kattegat, and how much Ivar was hiding from you “you will too, right?” you asked, he shrugged “it doesn’t matter love” you sighed and buried your face in his chest as he stroked your hair “they hate me, they think I’m mad, I built walls to defend the city, I did everything to defend us, protect us, yet, they think I’m trying to isolate them, but if I can’t get their love, fear shall do it” he spoke, you knew this can’t be good.

“Ivar… what did you do to Thora?” you asked, remembering what Hvitserk said earlier, about him worrying for her safety “nothing, not as long as Hvitserk leaves Kattegat” he told you you frowned “leave? Ivar why are you sending him away?”, “Are you sad of his depart?” he looked at you, you were unable to believe that the two of you were back to the same point “of course I’m Ivar! We already talked about it!” you huffed, “he wants to kill me” your husband sighed.

“Not everyone wants to kill you Ivar” you protested “true, but Hvitserk does, and I want to be safe, I want to make sure that we are safe, I don’t wish him any harm, I just want him gone” he explained, you knew Ivar had already made up his mind “I don’t wish to speak about it any further if you please” he whispered as he held your body closer to him, you nodded, the two of you cuddled until you fell asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, Ivar was already gone, you hated it, you hated how he had to sneak in like a thief of the night and leave before everyone wakes up, you hated how he can’t spend more time with you, but the heart wants what it wants, and your heart wants Ivar the boneless, the son of Ragnar.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Tags: (let me know if you want to be tagged for this story) @i-am-a-teenage-dirtbaggg

Gif source: stolen from google images.

#vikings #vikings fanfiction #fanfic #ivar vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar the god #ivar ragnarsson #ragnarssons #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk #freydis #his true wife fic #ivar x reader #ivar x you #reader #hvitserk x reader

[dreamcatcherfication]

Skin Deep - Round Three

I have no idea why this part was so hard for me to write, I just couldn’t sit down and get it out. Somehow, I managed, and here’s part three! Only one more part and an epilogue guys, we’re almost done with this one! Please don’t get mad at me if the court scenes are unrealistic, I really have no accurate basis of what a trial would look like. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my brother is blasting the doomsday alarm on an endless loop.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Heavy talk about rape and sexual assault, victim blaming, slut shaming

Part 1 | Part 2

It was trial day. The courtroom was a lot smaller than Law and Order had led Cathy to believe, and it wasn’t doing well to soothe anyone’s nerves. Kit was sitting with her back straight at one of the desks in front of the judge and the jury, attempting to keep any emotion off her face. Beside Kit were Aragon’s lawyers, Maria and Joan, two highly educated women in pristine suits. While their presence didn’t do anything to quell Kit’s nerves, they weren’t doing anything to agitate her, which was honestly all she could ask for.

Sitting off to the side were Cathy and Anne, waiting for court to officially start. They were supposed to be witnesses for the case, along with Jane, Anna, and Aragon who were sitting with them. Maggie and Bessie were in the back of the room, watching and waiting. At the other table sat Thomas Culpeper in a dapper suit, his hair gelled back and his eyes stony. He had some dime a dozen lawyer next to him, ready to argue every possible point he could get his hands on. Off on the other side of the room was Francis Dereham, the main witness for Culpeper’s defense. 

The judge sat up on a podium with a fancy chair, the bags under his eyes visible to everyone in the courtroom. “I am Judge Cranmer. Today we are here to see the case of Culpeper vs Howard. We shall start with the accused.”

Culpeper’s lawyer stood up and made his way to the center of the courtroom floor. “Thank you Judge Cranmer. Now, as you all know, my client has been accused of sexually assaulting and attempting to rape Miss Howard,” he explained, “But these charges are all false! Miss Howard,” he pointed his hand at Kit, “is lying about what happened. She was the one to come onto Mr. Culpeper. He was not at fault and is being falsely accused of a crime he did not commit.”

“Objection your honor!” Maria stood up, her face growing red.

“Overruled,” Cranmer shushed Maria. He seemed very interested in what Culpeper’s lawyer had to say.

Silently thanking the judge, Culpeper’s lawyer continued. Cathy had to hold back the sick feeling in her stomach as he started preaching falsities to the judge and jury. “Miss Howard is playing innocent, when really she is a vixen. In fact, we can prove it. Mr. Dereham!” he spun around, pointing at the man in question. “I’m calling you to the stand.”

Disguising a smirk on his face, Dereham made his way to the witness stand, winking at Cathy and the others as he passed. Jane gasped in disgust, turning her head away from him. Once Dereham was up and situated on the stand, they got straight into questioning. “Mr. Dereham, you told me that you have had sexual relations with Miss Howard before.”

“Indeed I have,” he answered.

This time it was Joan who stood up. “Objection your honor!”

“Overruled,” Cranmer dismissed her. Watching the absolute horror that descended onto Anne’s face hurt Cathy more than she would’ve thought. Her girlfriend looked devastated at Kit’s reaction to Dereham, and it only further proved that things were far worse than they initially thought. 

Pacing back and forth, the lawyer started asking questions. “How do you and Miss Howard know each other?”

The charismatic smile on Dereham’s face was disgusting and unnatural with the way it never changed. “Last year I was the judge at one of Katherine’s beauty pageants. To make sure she won, Katherine came to me as the results were being deliberated. She forced herself onto me, hoping she could bribe me with sexual acts. She had her way with me, and said that if I didn’t make sure she won, she would accuse me of raping her.”

If any of the jury had an ounce of common sense, they would see the tears in Kit’s eyes and know immediately Dereham was lying. That’s what Cathy hoped, at least. Kit seemed so terrified for the usually confident beauty queen. Or maybe she was never confident and had just learned to hide it really well. 

The questioning dragged on as tensions rose. Cathy could feel the anger and fear radiating throughout the room from every person. Finally, Culpeper’s lawyer was done and it was Kit’s turn. Maria and Joan stood up together and nodded before addressing Cranmer. “Your honor, we would like to call up the victim,” Maria stressed the word, “Katherine Howard, to the stand.” Cranmer agreed and Kit was led up to the box for questioning.

Both the lawyers gave Kit kind smiles to ease her anxiety. The three of them knew this was going to get messy. “Seeing as we were unprepared for Mr. Dereham’s accusations, would you like to tell us your version of the events Miss Howard?”

Swallowing and giving the tiniest nod, Kit began to speak. “I was at the beauty pageant my father had signed me up for,” she started, her eyes darting out in the benches before landing on her father. “Mr. Dereham was one of the judges, but I never tried to seduce him,” Kit hardened her face. “My father encouraged that I talk to him, so I did. It was Mr. Dereham who started to put his hands on me. At first I didn’t say anything, because I thought he was admiring my costume. He was charming, and I thought it was alright,” Kit admitted, glancing down at her hands. “But then he started to touch me more in places I didn’t like, and I didn’t know what to do so I stopped and,” her breath hitched as she froze. “I let it happen,” Kit choked out.

All the rage Cathy never thought she had was coming out. She wanted to get up and punch Dereham in the face, she wanted to wring Culpeper by his neck until his face turned blue. Instead of doing any of that, Cathy put a hand on Anne’s knee in order to keep her calm. Glancing to the side, Cathy and Aragon made eye contact. This is wrong, Aragon mouthed to her, abhorrence written across her face. 

I know, Cathy mouthed back before turning her attention back to the stand. She could only imagine the fury Anna must have been feeling as she watched her best friend admit to being sexually abused. “And with Mr. Culpeper?” Joan asked, her fingers drumming on the side of her blazer.

“This time I did say no,” Kit mumbled into the microphone. “He asked me to come see him in the judging room because something was off with the votes. I thought maybe they had spelled my name wrong, that happens a lot, so I followed him. But he locked the door and started undressing and I panicked.” Taking a moment to breath, Kit stilled her face. “I told him to stop,” her voice was a thick monotone, “And he didn’t. He ripped my clothing open and almost had his way with me before my cousin Anne Boleyn and her girlfriend, Catherine Parr came into the room and saw what was happening. Parr went and got my friend Anna while two of the student judges, Catherine de Aragon and Jane Seymour called the police.”

Anne was in awe of her cousin’s ability to tell the story. Cathy knew Anne didn’t think of her cousin as weak, but Kit was known for having anxiety problems that made her freeze up or spiral. Anna was smiling proudly off to the side, her heart swelling at the sight of Kitty. “Thank you Miss Howard,” Joan helped her out of the box and led her back to the defense’s table. 

Maria addressed Cranmer, “Now we would like to call up the other witnesses. Anne Boleyn, please come before the court.” 

That was how the trial progressed, with every witness being called up to provide a first account of the events they were a part of. When Cathy stepped into the box, she couldn’t help but feel the anxiety of all her friends fall onto her shoulders. It was terrifying, having everyone’s attention on her, knowing that her account of the events could make or break the case.

After what felt like hours, Judge Cranmer called a recess. Anne went to talk to Aragon, Jane and Anna approached Cathy, and Kit left the room to use the bathroom. “She’s handling this well,” Anna commented, nervously casting a glance towards the hallway where Kit had disappeared down. “Especially being around them,” she refused to say the men’s names. 

Jane rubbed her wrist as if it was in pain. “I didn’t think I’d be able to handle sitting in that box, and I didn’t have much to share. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her.”

Cathy didn’t respond, her eyes watching Anne and Aragon in the corner. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but both of them looked frustrated. Aragon was holding her composure, but Anne seemed to be venting all her rage at the other girl. Before Cathy could make her way over and break up the argument, Aragon said something that made Anne stop cold. For a moment, Cathy was afraid Aragon had said something inappropriate that would cause Anne to snap, but then Anne threw her arms around Aragon in a hug. It was awkward, and neither girl seemed to particularly like it, but it was a gesture of goodwill they both needed.

A feeling of pride welled up in Cathy’s chest at her girlfriend. She and Aragon had been at odds since the day of the incident, and even the smallest step toward forgiving each other for whatever happened in their past was a good thing. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Cathy told Anna and Jane without taking her gaze off of Aragon and Anne. “I think this might be my only opportunity to slip away from Anne before -”

“Before she becomes clingy girlfriend bot 2000, I know what she’s like,” Anna shoved Cathy’s shoulder lightly. “Go on, we’ll cover for you.”

Quietly thanking Anna, Cathy bolting out of the courtroom and into the hall. If Aragon was distracting Anne, it gave Cathy the perfect opportunity to sneak out and empty her bladder. The bathrooms were down the hall and around the corner, pretty secluded from the rest of the court. Making her way to the bathroom, Cathy was about to turn the corner when she heard voices. Stopping, she leaned against the wall and peered around the corner.

Edmund Howard was leering over his daughter, his face red with anger as he scolded her. “How dare, how dare you!”

“I’m sorry,” Kit whispered, her eyes trained on the floor.

“Don’t apologize you stupid slut!” Cathy wanted to barge in, but she knew that wouldn’t do any good. Edmund would pretend like nothing had happened and Cathy wouldn’t have any way to help Kit. So Cathy pulled out her phone and started recording the scene. “You say this was my fault, and then accuse two perfectly dignified men of your crime? You’re a disgrace Katherine.”

Still unable to look in her father’s eyes, Kit mumbled, “It’s not my crime, it’s their fault. I didn’t consent. That’s illegal.”

“Thomas and Francis were doing as I told them,” Edmund growled, bending down so Kit had to look in his eyes. “The only way you would ever win is if I do all the hard work for you.” Cathy had to restrain herself from attacking the man then and there. He was admitting to a crime, and her video could be the one thing that helped Kit put Dereham and Culpeper in prison. 

The look of pure betrayal behind Kit’s eyes made Cathy want to scream. “You what?” she asked, the syllables broken apart.

Edmund spit like fire, uncaring about how he hurt his daughter. “We needed that prize money, and the only way you were going to win it was if the judges had a reason to pick you. It’s surprisingly easy to whore you out to these men.”

“It’s my body!” Kit exploded, stepping away from her father. “You can’t sell me to them for money.”

“I can, I will, and you won’t say anything about it,” Edmund towered over his daughter. And with that, he spun around and stalked back to the courtroom. Panicking, Cathy nearly dropped her phone as she hurled herself into a nearby storage closet. When the shadow of Edmund had passed, Cathy released the breath she had been holding. She had video evidence of Edmund admitting what he had done. If this didn’t help Kit win, she didn’t know what would.

The small shuffling of feet outside the door signaled that Kit was passing by. Once the girl was gone, Cathy moved to open the door. She tried turning the knob in different directions, but it wouldn’t budge. Starting to freak out, Cathy pulled on the door harder and harder. It didn’t budge. Cathy was trapped.

“Anne’s hairpin,” Cathy murmured, praying that she had her girlfriend’s hairpin from earlier that day. She had picked it up off the ground when it fell out of Anne’s hair, and Cathy prayed it hadn’t fallen from her pocket or gotten lost. Shoving her hands in her pockets, Cathy rifled through lint and lost belongings in search of the pin. 

Luck was on her side, and she pulled out the pin. Straightening it out, Cathy got to work picking the lock. This was the second time her lockpicking skills had come in handy recently, and it gave her a strange sense of deja vu to be back in this position. Except this time she was trying to get out instead of in. 

Nearly falling into the hallway as the door swung open, Cathy gasped. She had done it, and now she could present her evidence to the court. Sprinting back up the hallway, Cathy saw the closed doors and realized that court was back in session. Ignoring proper etiquette, Cathy burst through the doors with her phone held up for everyone to see.

“Katherine Howard did nothing wrong. And I can prove it.”

-----------------------------------------

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree@boleynhowards@annabanana2401@babeebobo@dont-lose-your-queerhead@everything-insanity@mindless-pidgeon

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #skin deep #round three #beauty queens au #please look at the trigger warnings #this somehow became a law and order au #this took way too long to write #i didn't know how to end the part #so i thought it would be funny to include that line #*laughs in depression*

[grasscorpse]

The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List: Chapter 4

*From Ynntranslations

At 6 am, with the clanging sound of the bell, the children began to get up from their beds.

“Good morning!”

“Isabella, I can’t tie my shoelaces!”

“Put my hair in pigtails!”

One of Isabella’s little brothers, who had taken a liking to her, came up to her, displaying his shoes with the shoelaces still untied. A little sister approached her carrying a brush and a ribbon.

“Good morning. Give me a second and I’ll do it for you.”

Having woken up before the bell, Isabella had already gotten dressed and braided her hair. She skillfully helped her little brother get his shoes on, and did her little sister’s hair.

She liked taking care of the little kids, but today, she wanted to hurry up and go see Leslie.

Exiting into the hallway, Isabella searched for Leslie among her siblings heading for the dining room. On confirming that he had already left the second floor, she rushed down the stairs. On the way, her siblings, one after another, wanted to talk to her, and Isabella was forced to halt each time.

Scanning the hallway that lead to the dining room, she finally spotted Leslie walking next to the wall. Taking a deep breath, she dashed toward him.

“Leslie!” Isabella called out to him from behind. She did her best to sound casual, saying his name the same way as always.

“I’m sorry for getting mad yesterday.”

She gave an honest, direct apology. She didn’t want to make excuses or try to justify herself.

Leslie, who had been staring down at the notebook in his hand, jerked his head up and said, “No, I’m the one who needs to apologize!”—or so Isabella expected.

“… Okay.”

Doing his best to stick his face in his notebook, Leslie sped up to pass Isabella, who had been beside him.

“Oh…”

Isabella wanted to call out and stop him, but her voice trailed off. Left behind in the hallway, Isabella was unable to pursue him.

She had never even imagined that he would react like that. She stood there, stunned.

I really did hurt him…

Isabella hung her head, thinking that he was so angry that he didn’t even want to speak to her. She had been so sure that everything would be okay as long as she apologized, Leslie’s reaction had left her visibly shocked.

“…”

Isabella had never even seen Leslie get angry before. Even when the little kids played pranks on him or talked back to him, he would only smile awkwardly. If you apologized to him, he’d fall all over himself trying to accept, to the point it was hard to tell who was apologizing to whom.

She had come to take his kindness for granted. That was why she had run her mouth without thinking.

Isabella snapped back to reality on hearing her siblings call out to her.

“Heeey, Isabella! Come help out!”

“O-okay,” Isabella quickly replied, and ran to the dining room. She joined her siblings setting the table, smiling as though nothing was wrong.

“Thank you for the food!”

All of them clasped their hands and said grace, then began their meal.

As she scooped up a bit of soup, Isabella stole a glance at Leslie, who was sitting at a distant table. Normally, he had a gentle expression on his face, but today, he was unsmiling, with a stiff, brooding look.

During their morning tests, and then laundry time after that, and at lunchtime too, Leslie refused to meet Isabella’s eyes. As time went on, the expression on his face seemed to grow darker.

At last, their free time arrived, but Leslie immediately disappeared.

“Isabella, where’s Leslie?”

“Where’d he go?”

“It’s his last day, right? I wanna play with him!”

Her younger siblings tugged at her sleeve one after another, and Isabella smiled awkwardly.

“… Good question. I’m going to go look for him.”

From the doorway, Isabella scanned the yard. The youngest were playing next to Mama, and a little further away, a few children were racing one another. Leslie was not among them.

Isabella spun around and reentered the House.

Was he in the music room practicing the violin, or maybe reading in the library? Because the weather was so nice, everyone else had left the House as soon as the bell announcing their free time rang. The interior of the House was dead silent, but even listening closely, Isabella couldn’t hear the sound of a violin.

Isabella ran up the stairs.

There’s only a little time left…!

Leslie was not in the library or the bedrooms. On his bedside table, the books that Isabella had brought in were carefully lined up. She checked the music room just in case, but it was deserted. Wanting to be absolutely sure, she looked and found that the violin he had played was still in its case on the shelf.

“…”

Isabella paused in the second-floor hallway. She had the strangest feeling, as though the future, when Leslie would be gone, had arrived a day early.

And when the day ended, it would become reality.

The sadness welled up in her, seeming to rise from beneath like a freezing wind.

When the day of Leslie’s departure from the House had been set, she had wanted to celebrate for his sake, but at the same time, she felt hopelessly lonely.

When she had found out about his “list of goals” while he was packing his things, she had pushed him to work on it less for his own sake than because she wanted to spend time with Leslie doing something before the end.

But that had backfired.

If they hadn’t tried to tackle his list, Leslie wouldn’t have lost his confidence and decided that he’d never be able to do any of it. She would never have been so harsh with him, either.

And yet Isabella couldn’t bring herself to think that it would have been better if she’d never given him the push to try. Leslie might say that he can’t do anything right, but that wasn’t true. No matter what anyone else might say, Isabella knew it wasn’t true.

Leslie had given her so much in the time they had spent together.

Pleasant times and gentle songs.

That was why she wanted to help him, to do something in return. Once he left for the outside, she wouldn’t be able to do anything for him anymore.

“I don’t want to let him leave like this…”

The words escaped Isabella’s lips.

That’s right, they had so little time left to do anything together. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Leslie while he was still hurting from what she had done.

“Then I’ve got to apologize now and do it right.”

Raising her head, Isabella took a deep breath, determined. She raced down the stairs, jumping over an entire set of stairs at once, and threw the front door open wide.

“Isabella?”

“Where are you going?”

On seeing Isabella come running out, her siblings, who had been playing, called out to her, but it only took a moment for their voices to grow distant behind her.

Isabella ran for the forest.

She quickly reached the hill where she had often found Leslie, but she didn’t see him in the shade of the tree there.

Breathing heavily, she stopped and looked around. There was no one within sight, only a butterfly slowly fluttering away.

Then the only place left is…

Isabella’s gaze shifted to the trees of the forest crowded together.

Suddenly, she thought of number 8 from the list.

“‘I will go see what’s on the other side of the forest.'”

“…”

Consciously slowing her breath, Isabella turned it over in her mind. If Leslie had decided to challenge some of the items on his list that he hadn’t gotten around to yesterday, then he might have tried to go past the fence by himself.

The instant it occurred to her, she began running. Isabella descended the hill and turned toward the forest, her boots striking the grass beneath. On entering the woods, she was surrounded by the familiar scent of the greenery that filled the suddenly cool air. Without any hesitation, Isabella followed the trees and rocks she used as landmarks.

She knew the forest on the grounds of the House like the back of her hand, but even Isabella couldn’t easily locate Leslie within such a large area.

This is just like playing hide-and-seek…

Isabella giggled.

But I will find him, no matter what!

Isabella followed the same route they had taken when playing tag yesterday. If Leslie had tried to go deeper into the forest, it would make sense for him to take the same path as yesterday, until he reached the spot they had gone to.

Leaping over the undergrowth and never losing speed, Isabella made her way there, where she discovered footprints in the soft earth. On top of the footprints she thought were the ones the two of them had left the day before were a fresh set.

“Are these Leslie’s…?”

As Isabella glanced around, she heard faint noises, and a voice.

“Agh!”

She rushed in the direction the voice had come from. The footprints on the ground led there, as well. Making her way through the trees, she found a large branch sticking out.

It belonged to the tree she had climbed to hide yesterday, and Leslie was there, on its very lowest branch.

“Leslie?”

“Oh, Isabella! What are you doing here…?”

In his surprise, Leslie accidentally lost his grip on the branch and fell from the tree.

“AHH!”

Fallen flat on his backside, Leslie gaped openmouthed at Isabella’s sudden appearance.

“Isabella… how did you know I was here…?”

Isabella extended her hand to Leslie, who was still lying on the ground. Leslie hesitantly gripped her hand, and she pulled him to his feet.

“You had ‘see what’s on the other side of the forest’ on your list, so I thought that you might be trying to do that one…”

“Oh, I see… I got stuck on number 5, though.”

Leslie suddenly let go of Isabella’s hand. Seeing him hanging his head, Isabella opened her mouth to speak, though she seemed to be having a difficult time getting the words out.

“Um, Leslie, I—”

“Isabella, I’m sorry about yesterday!”

Cutting off Isabella’s hesitant words, Leslie bowed his head forcefully.

“What…?”

Isabella, who had come all that way in order to properly apologize, widened her eyes at hearing Leslie apologize to her first.

Leslie, his hair shifting as he bowed his head deeply, spoke in a sudden burst.

“When you said that to me yesterday, Isabella, I… I realized that I’ve only been thinking about myself, and I regretted it. All I was thinking about was my own doubts and lack of self-confidence, and I never noticed that you had your own worries to deal with.”

Leslie said “I’m sorry” once more.

“So… I knew I couldn’t do all of them, but I wanted to at least accomplish the things on my list that you helped me with, and then apologize to you.”

Leslie slumped his shoulders pitifully.

“But of course, I couldn’t do anything… After what happened yesterday, I tried to read as much as I could, but I fell asleep. Then I thought I’d try to get a perfect score on my last test somehow, so I spent the morning reviewing everything you taught me, but I couldn’t do it after all.

“But I did get the best score I’ve ever gotten!” Leslie added, with a broad, happy smile.

“I came here so I could practice climbing trees during our free time, but…”

Leslie glanced at his hands, smeared with dirt and covered in little cuts and scrapes, and smiled bitterly.

Isabella simply looked at him.

He must have fallen from the tree over and over again. Not only his hands, but his once white clothes as well, had gotten dirty and torn. The freckles on his nose were also smudged with dirt. Leslie raised a hand to wipe at the sweat that had left his hair matted to his face.

“I got as far as that branch, though I still had a little ways to go before I made it to where you climbed yesterday.”

He looked up at a branch above his head and pointed. He had determined that if he could reach the branch Isabella had climbed to, that would certify that he was able to climb trees. Leslie again grabbed on to the tree. Bracing his feet, he tried to pull himself onto the branch, awkwardly extending his legs.

He began to slide back down. He held onto the branch so hard that his face turned a deep red, but lacking strength, he fell back down to the ground. Leslie staggered to his feet and gripped the branch, muttering to himself, “One more time.”

“You won’t get anywhere if you put your foot there. Use this branch to climb up,” Isabella said abruptly to Leslie, walking up to the tree.

“What…? Oh, uh, okay!”

Leslie was a bit startled to hear her voice from below him, but he moved his foot to the branch Isabella had indicated, and found himself in a more stable position.

Still holding on to the branch, he sneaked a glance at Isabella standing below.

He had thought that Isabella must be disillusioned with him, that she wouldn’t help him challenge his list anymore. But she had come all the way here searching for him, and was still encouraging and supporting him.

Isabella rested her hand on the trunk of the tree.

“Climbing a tree isn’t just a matter of strength or agility. You also have to think about where to put your hands and feet, and what route you can take to get up to the branch you want to reach. If you can figure that out, climbing is really easy.”

Listening to Isabella’s advice, Leslie blinked. He’d never thought that way about tree climbing. He’d always assumed that he just wasn’t suited to it due to his lack of athletic ability and strength, but strangely, looking at it this way made it seem like it might not be so difficult. The way Isabella talked about it made him think of chess or puzzles. At that thought, Leslie chuckled.

“That’s just like you, Isabella.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Feeling calmer, Leslie gave the tree a good look. He would need a foothold near the branch that was his goal. If he were too far away, then even if the branch were within his arm’s reach, he wouldn’t be able to climb onto it.

“Let’s see…”

Leslie carefully chose his footholds, on branches and in hollows, and made his way up the tree.

“All right… I made it here.”

At last, he stood on a branch he had never reached before. He was high up enough that, with some effort, he would be able to touch the branch he was aiming for. With his hands still against the trunk, Leslie looked down at Isabella.

“Leslie, don’t look down!”

“Ahh! This is… r-really high up…”

Leslie had never experienced being at such a height before, and he froze up. His hands suddenly began to sweat, and his heart pounded like a drum. As though it were deliberate, the wind began to blow, causing him to wobble.

Leslie whimpered and grew pale, and Isabella yelled to him from below.

“Keep at it, Leslie!”

When he heard her trying to encourage him, Leslie shook his head, shivering. Pressing his body against the trunk, he slid down until he was sitting on the branch, and closed his eyes tightly.

“I-I can’t do it… I’m going to come back down.”

“Don’t give up!”

Slowly, Leslie opened his eyes just wide enough too see, and he was met with Isabella’s sincere gaze.

“You made it that far! Everything will be fine, just keep going!”

Leslie kept his eyes on her face, although it felt like trying to look into the sun.

At that moment, it hit him that today would be his last day there, the thought filling his mind.

The time he was spending with Isabella, here in the forest, would come to an end. The afternoon sunlight shone through the leaves of the trees, illuminating Isabella’s face.

Her dark eyes reflected the light.

“Okay…”

Leslie poured his strength into his shaking arms and drove from his mind all visions of falling and thoughts of how high up he was. His legs still felt weak from fear, but he managed to slowly stand up. He looked for a branch he could use to continue climbing.

“Just a little farther, Leslie.”

If he had tried this alone, he would have given up and walked away long ago. Mustering all his courage, he let go of the trunk and moved to a branch that was within reach. He planted his foot on it.

And then at last, Leslie arrived at the spot that he had thought was impossible for him to reach. Standing atop the branch, he looked down. By now, he no longer felt any fear.

“Ha ha ha, I climbed it! I did it, Isabella!”

“You really did! That was amazing, Leslie!”

Isabella cheered and jumped, looking up at him the whole time.

“Ah, Isabella, look out!”

Looking down from above, Leslie had noticed a broken branch lying right where Isabella’s foot was about to land.

It was the sort of tiny obstacle that she could effortlessly dodge, normally, but because she had failed to look down, Isabella tripped. Leslie, still at the top of the tree, could only watch.

“Huh?”

“Isabella!”

Her ankle bent at an odd angle, and she fell backwards.

#The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List #the promised neverland novel #tpn novel #tpn isabella #tpn leslie #the promised neverland isabella #Yakusoku no Neverland #isabella #the promised neverland

[coriandher]

Tagged by @courierspikeee!​ Thank you!!!

I’m tagging @wild-w4steland-snip3r, @felix-the-sixth​, @cryptcombat (if you do Jade..... id deceasing), @yee-haw-cow-boy​, @illumimommy​​. No pressure if you’d rather not, and have fun if any others would wanna do it. Pretty fun!

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same.

Here’s mine. Contains references to Legion route and things you do in there. Nothing explicit just basad baby getting questioned by NCR idk there was attempted mini plot.

What is your name?

Are you really— this is a serious question? I'm Vestalis.

How old are you?

None of your business.

What do you look like?

Incredibly attractive.

Where are you from? Where do you live now?

A place of nature I cannot share while my current address is a location I cannot disclose.

What was your childhood like?

(chuckle) Very tough sibling rivalry

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

Oh I'm not Legion at all. Can’t think of 'friendlies', but there was this guild... didn't hear from them in a long time. Probably got disbanded or went underground.

Tell me about your best friend.

Best friend? Huh (tapping) Sure would be nice to have sleepovers.

Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

Dad was obvious with his favouritism. I had no issue with that because I was one of the favourites. I got his eyes. Mom got this naturally high anaerobic threshold. Fast woman. I don't think she liked me. Loved that I inherited that though (laughs) 

Peony was my favourite step-sibling, got killed by my auntie, a bitch. I don't care about the rest (pause) Oh I heard good ol' Willow survived though, what a hardy bastard.

What about a partner or partners?

Nobody permanent. But I’m thinking of someone.

Who are your enemies, and why?

Contrary to popular belief I don't hate the NCR. I just think you're hilarious. Ok, you captured me. What now? Bureaucracy me to death? (wheeze) Enemy is too strong a word (tapping) It has to be a two-way acknowledged relationship y’know. I've got some, all personal and intimate.

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

Their rigid traditionalist ideals will be the end of them (pause) There was this sweet woman. Pretty too. Had wisdom in her. That's why she's not part of a mass grave in the desert hardly anyone knows exist.

What about The Enclave?

They'd be a pain in the ass to break up with because they never move on do they? The whole closed society thing? Wow entitled much?

How do you feel about Super Mutants?

Next level genome engineering in them. Difficult to kill. Pretty impressive but the whole cognitive impairment is a drawback in my opinion.

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

I went to Zion Canyon once, you would not believe who I met there! It was craaazy! I was just (shriek) It was mad! You should have been there (chuckle) I’d do that all over again.

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

From a distance! Fuck whoever designed those freaks!

Do you like fighting?

If it's worth my time, I love it!

What’s your weapon of choice?

A Truờng Đao. Don't repeat after me you'll butcher it. It’s a nice sword to cleave with. I also use a 10mm SMG. My go to for needed bullet sprays pew pew

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

Surviving's easy. Don't cause trouble, hide during raids, submit to whatever fate gave you. Boooring. Living happily, now that's subjective. I watch my steps carefully y’know. Should things go sour I'm always ready for a sprint.

((Don’t remember her S.P.E.C.I.A.L but high in Intelligence, Perception and Agility!))

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

Confining. The walls echo your whispers. Abandoned ones are scariest. It can be re-vault-ting! Get it!? That was a good one c’mon laugh how dare you.

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

I'm built sturdy like that. I do avoid unnecessary exposure. Normal doctor practice. Always a monthly dose of Rad-X, bring RadAways, avoid drinking anything unpurified, stay away from highly toxic environments such as the dirt Vulpes Inculta steps on.

What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

Bear with me (pause) It’s the bear! I love bears! The first time I saw a bear was in Zion Canyon. Fluffie! Big! The people call it Yaō Guái or whatever. Weird choice on etymology for an adorable creature. Oh and (tapping) woodpeckers. Cool birds.

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

I despise the cazadores. Nightmares flying in flocks, with bite stings that makes your limbs feel... ugh lasts for days. What were those unethical brains thinking?

How do you feel about robots?

I have a cute little robot myself. They are interesting. I heard rumours of uncannily humanoid robots further East. It reminds me of a trip I had to an empty mountain once (chuckle) Transhumanism is truly interesting.

How many caps do you have on you right now?

You took away my pouch money. Go count it yourself.

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

Plain purified water. Those things are corrosive and likely irradiated, limit your intake. Brush or wipe your teeth at night before you go to sleep. Pay a visit to your local doctors for a checkup on dental twice a year.

Do you do chems?

Not the addictive ones. I've seen Hydra overuse, it's not lethal per se, but I simply prefer a sober mind.

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

Not much. Sometimes about their foolishness.

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

I don’t make a lot of mistakes, but I do think of Peony. How it'll be like if she survived, if I saved her. Still I like where I am now, I wouldn't change a thing.

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

Assassinating Kimball was all momentous but it lacked personal attachment. Bombing the monorail there? (tapping) The risks in espionage, then walking away from an explosion. That’s a cool job. What do I wanna achieve? (tapping) I wanna walk out of this place.

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

The world can burn, all I care is if my descendants will hold the torch.

#oc : Vestalis #Fallout New Vegas #Courier Six #OC Meme #this was so fun!

[earthboundjedi]

Written for @superherotiger for the Rebels May the Fourth exchange! I absolutely loved working on this and might have gotten a little carried away. Spacedad and spaceson (Kanan and Jacen) feels ahead.

Jacen leaned on the railing of the communication tower as he watched the twin moons of Lothal rise on the horizon. The capital city glowed in the distance, a glimmering, bustling symbol of hope and perseverance nestled in the heart of the planet’s expansive plains and mountains. It was a pleasant enough place to visit; he remembered coming here many, many times with his mom when he was younger. Back then, Lothal and the rest of the Galaxy had just wrested its freedom back from the Galactic Empire; as such, General Syndulla and her son were always welcome visitors.

This visit, Jacen wasn’t here with his mother. He found it was much easier to move about the city, slipping down side streets and lurking in all manners of pubs and hole-in-the-wall diners, without his extremely recognizable mom at his side. It was weird, actually, not having her here - for as long as he could remember, the two of them (and their grumpy C1 droid) had practically been inseparable. But during their last trip here, something had started nagging at the back of his mind while they wandered up and down the city’s streets; once they left the planet’s surface, it was as if something was immediately trying to call him back.

After many rotations, when the soft whispering at the corners of his awareness didn’t fade away, he broached the topic with his mom. He asked her what it was and what it could mean, and he had watched while she regarded him with a thoughtful, misty-eyed look. He’d never forget her response: “You have questions, Jacen. I can’t answer them, but the Force can.”  She let him take the Phantom II (how the ancient Clone Wars-era shuttle was still in flying condition, he had no clue), making him promise to bring both the shuttle and himself back in one piece.

That had been maybe four rotations ago. Since then, he’d been relentlessly searching the town, eavesdropping on all manners of conversations, hoping to find the shred of a sliver of a hope of what the kriff he was even supposed to be looking for. He was tired, frustrated, and alone.

Maybe I should leave and meet up with Mom on Ryloth.

But as soon as he had the thought, the whispering started a new chorus of nagging at the back of his mind. It spoke no words to him, only gifting him with a confusing, nebulous feeling that he couldn’t put any sort of name to.

Jacen tugged the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding his wolf tail of dark green hair and the smattering of green freckles that dotted his cheekbones. His mom had mentioned the Force, that somehow it was the thing that could help with the whispers in his head. But as far as the Force was concerned, he was skeptical at best. Sure, he’d met the great Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi who had ‘brought balance to the Force’, whatever that meant. But upon meeting one of the people who’d fought alongside his mom in the Rebellion, Jacen’s impression of the man hadn’t been very… impressive. Luke was a cool guy and all, but the whole ‘mystical Force-wielding warrior’ thing? Jacen didn’t buy it. In his opinion, the man was just an extremely lucky farmboy-turned-rebellion-hero, who now had some sort of school to teach others his lucky Force-wielding ways.

His mom insisted that his dad had been a Jedi, too. She’d told Jacen many stories of how the two of them went around the Galaxy and helped people, formed their rag-tag found family, and fought with the Rebellion since its infancy. Of course he believed her - she was his mom, after all. And he’d talked with Uncle Zeb and Aunt Sabine frequently enough to know the stories were true, all of them.

Which meant the story of how his dad had sacrificed himself to save the others during one of their last missions as a group was, tragically, true as well. His father, Kanan Jarrus - the Jedi, the hero, and the martyr who never lived to see the birth of his son. By all accounts, a legend. A man with a legacy so storied and noble that Jacen could never hope to hold a candle to that blazing bright flame. And he definitely couldn’t ever dream of relating to that half of his parentage, other than the predominantly human features he saw every time he looked in a mirror.

Pilot or mechanic? Relatable. War hero? An occupation he would never aspire to, but a tangible thing nonetheless. But… Jedi Knight ?

Jacen groaned and covered his face with one of his hands, trying to ignore the sound of his insecurities and uncertainties mingling with the incessant whispering.

I need a drink.

Quickly descending the tower and making his way to his rented speeder, he started zipping down the main highway into town. He couldn’t outrace the whispers and doubts, but the sensation of the wind whipping in his face as he skimmed over the surface helped ground him. He still wanted that drink, though.

The grungy, welcoming sign of Old Jho’s was barely in sight when, out of nowhere, a white blur streaked across Jacen’s field of view.

“Whoah!”

He slammed on the brakes, causing the speeder to swing at an angle as it ground to a halt. As he caught his breath, Jacen spotted the source of the blur perched on top of some crates next to the road. It was one of the planet’s many Lothcats, sitting cool, collected, and completely oblivious to the danger it had narrowly avoided. But it wasn't like any of the Lothcats he'd seen before; this one had fur as white as a blizzard on Hoth and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that were staring directly at Jacen.

“Well, aren't you a strange little guy?” he mused.

The white Lothcat meowed and licked its front paw.

“I've got someplace to be, but you should be more careful when you're crossing the street.” Why am I talking to a tooka? It's not like it understands me.

Jacen repositioned his foot onto the gas pedal, intending to traverse the last couple of blocks between him and Old Jho’s. But at his movement, the Lothcat immediately raised its hackles and hissed at him.

“What? Why are you mad at me? I didn't hit you! Now scram!”

It lowered its hackles and resumed staring at him, watching him expectantly.

Jacen sighed and dismounted the speeder. “Fine. What do you want?”

The Lothcat looked him directly in the eyes, then turned to look at the horizon. Some of the whispers in Jacen’s head coalesced to form a thought of intuition.

“Do… do you want to show me something?”

The Lothcat chirped as it brought its gaze back to Jacen. As if it were trying to say: Obviously, Meiloorun-head.

“Okay then,” he sighed, “lead the way.”

The white Lothcat leapt from the stack of crates, landing nimbly on the other side of the fence Jacen had just passed that separated the concrete of the city from the expansive, grassy fields. It poked its head through a patch of grass, giving Jacen an impatient stare.

“Hold on, let me get turned around!” Jacen carefully maneuvered the speeder so he could execute a three-point turn in the empty passageway, bringing himself about to face the direction of the Lothcat. His speeder properly oriented, the small creature dove further into the grass and reappeared in a small opening a few feet ahead. Again it looked back at Jacen expectantly, twitching its tail as if to wave him forward. Jacen's gaze flicked between the Lothcat and the plains stretching out before him, the swaying grass tickling the twin moons where they hung low in the sky.

Speeding off into the unknown, following a white Lothcat? Sounds weird and reckless.

Let's get started.

Lightly revving the engine, the speeder moved forward off the road. The Lothcat immediately started racing ahead of Jacen, bounding through the sea of yellows and light browns. He strained to keep his sights on the bobbing blur of white as he chased after it, quickly losing sight of the city through the tall grass surrounding him. The flashes of white in the growing darkness were now the only thing guiding his way.

Well, that, and the chorus of whispers from the grass as it brushed by him, holding a cryptic conversation with the murmurs in the back of his mind. He couldn’t make any intelligible sense of it, but somehow Jacen knew he was heading in the right direction. He could feel it.

Heading towards what , though, he had no idea.

Eventually their chase through the seemingly endless plains led to a wide open clearing, where large circles of fine dirt and gravel prevented the tall grass from growing. The largest of the circles gently sloped inwards towards its center, like a crater or excavation site. The Lothcat stopped at the edge of this circle, causing Jacen to once again slam on the brakes to avoid hitting his animal guide. It meowed at him and hissed at the speeder, clearly trying to communicate that the machine should be left at the edge of the clearing. He dismounted, and instantly the Lothcat began trotting forward, down into the mysterious pit.

“What is this place?” Jacen mused as he walked behind the white Lothcat. As they moved further into the clearing, wisps of fog started accumulating at the edges of the grass, obscuring the rest of Lothal’s landscape so that only the empty clearing was visible.

Scratch that - not empty. In the very center of the pit, still a long ways away from where he stood, sat some sort of grey rock.

Maybe it’s a magic Force rock? Or maybe… didn’t Mom mention that Lothal once had a Jedi temple? Maybe this is the last remaining piece of it?

Trying to keep his hopes from soaring too high, he continued towards what was possibly the last object on Lothal that might actually help him answer the questions stirring inside him. When the pair got close enough to the center, the Lothcat scampered up to the top of the rock, its white coat contrasting with the soft grey surrounding it. Turning in a little circle, it contently nestled itself into the long, furry moss covering the stone.

Hold up.

… Long, furry moss?

That’s no stone.

Jacen stumbled backwards, falling onto his backside in the dirt, when the not-stone started shifting. The large, grey mass rose onto four large, grey legs; a bushy tail unfurled and swept past Jacen’s feet as the not-rock started turning. Soon, he was face-to-snout with by far the most beautifully terrifying creature he had ever seen.

Holy kriff, I’m about to get eaten by a Lothwolf. Mom’s gonna kill me.

The wolf towered over him, its warm breath beating against Jacen’s wind-stung cheeks. A low growl escaped through its teeth, though somehow the sound didn’t bring the impending sense of doom Jacen thought it would. Possibly because the white Lothcat, still cutely perched atop the Lothwolf’s head, flanked by the beast’s pointed ears where the Lothcat had nestled into the mass of grey fur.

When the Lothcat mewled from its perch, Jacen's gaze briefly drifted upwards. A dark grey pattern marked the wolf’s forehead, the shape of which was achingly familiar. He didn't examine it for long, though, feeling the urgent need to make eye contact with the Lothwolf.

“Uh,” he stammered, “What… what do you want from me?”

Despite asking the question aloud, the last thing Jacen expected was a verbal response.

“You. Must. Learn,” the wolf slowly articulated. The words were like a cross between a growl and a howl, and it was entirely possible Jacen was simply imagining the whole exchange. Then again, if the Force was somehow involved in whatever this unusual encounter was, anything was possible.

“Learn what?”

The wolf narrowed its eyes, irritated at the interruption. “Who. You. Are.”

Jacen barely restrained himself from letting a series of questions and comments burst from his mouth.

But I know who I am! I'm Jacen Syndulla. Son and copilot of the best pilot in the Galaxy. Why would I be anything else?

The wordless whispers in the back of his mind hadn’t ceased yet; rather, they seemed to be getting louder, escalating to an annoying buzzing sensation that simultaneously made him agitated and empty.

Somehow, through all the noise, he heard the Lothwolf speak again:

“Your… Legacy.”

Before Jacen could wonder what the newest addition to the cryptic message could mean, the Lothwolf lowered its snout so that its nose was touching the center of his forehead.

There was a flash of white light.

And then… nothing.

Jacen looked around at his surroundings, worry rising in his chest when he couldn’t see the grey Lothwolf or the white Lothcat. The worry morphed into a full-on panic when he realized he couldn’t even see the dirt or the grass or the moons of Lothal anymore. He was surrounded by darkness as far as the eye could see. Though not total darkness - the black sky he saw stretching in every direction was dotted with tiny white pinpricks of light. It was as if he was floating in some sort of Galactic void and standing among the stars.

The incessant whispers in his head ceased, magnifying the silence of the strange place.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing in his ears despite the clear lack of any walls or other smooth surfaces for the sound to bounce off of. “Is anybody there? Somebody? ...Anybody?”

But nothing returned his call.

Slumping to his knees, Jacen buried his face in his hands.

What am I doing here?

Why did I come here in the first place?

I’m not cut out for all this weird stuff. I’m practically useless on my own. I should never have left Mom.

“I just want to go home…” he sobbed aloud.

“Already? But you just got here!”

“I know, but - eeAAAGGHH!” Jacen shrieked, his heart pounding as he searched, wide-eyed, for the source of the new voice. But he still couldn’t see anything. “Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?”

“I guess you wouldn’t recognize my voice, huh? Hold on, give me a second…” slowly, about five feet in front of Jacen, some of the balls of light started coalescing to form the outline of a figure. “It takes a surprisingly long time to form a body after floating around in the living Force for… what, twenty years?”

“Who… who are you?” Jacen repeated. “ What are you?” He watched as the figure of light gradually took the shape of a human, complete with a lightweight set of green armor and striking blue eyes. On the shoulder of the figure’s - well, man’s - armor was that odd symbol again, the same one he’d seen on the forehead of the Lothwolf. The familiarity of it tickled a thought in the back of Jacen's mind.

I know I've seen that symbol somewhere before...

“Jacen,” the fully-materialized man said calmly, settling on his knees in a meditative position, his eyes brimming with pride and love, “I am your -”

The puzzle finally clicked into place. “ Dad?” Jacen’s voice shook, staring incredulously at the vision before him.

“Well, I was going to say 'father’ - seemed a little more dramatic, you know? But -”

“But how?” Jacen interrupted again, “Mom said you were dead! That you died before I was even born!”

I'm dreaming. I had one too many drinks at Old Jho's again, and now I'm hallucinating. That's the only way any of this makes sense.

“Hera…” the man claiming to be his father muttered, staring wistfully off into the distance before turning his attention back to Jacen. “You know, you have your mother's eyes.”

“Funny, she always said I had your eyes. But you still haven't answered the question,” he pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Which was…?”

“How is it I can see you? Talk to you? After all this time…”

“You don't need me to answer that question,” Kanan smiled softly, raising one of his eyebrows. “I think you already know.”

“I don't! I don't know anything! I came here because I have questions, not answers!” Tears started collecting at the corner of Jacen's eyes as he became overwhelmed by frustration and a sea of other nameless emotions.

“And what was it that led you here?”

“A white Lothcat. And a wolf. I think.”

Kanan chuckled, “Go figure. But that's not what I meant. Why bother coming here to Lothal in the first place?”

“I told you, because I have questions!”

“Breathe, Jacen. Focus your thoughts. Why is it you are here, talking with me, instead of asking Hera these burning questions of yours?”

“I tried asking Mom! But I couldn't really explain it, and… and then she…” At last, the lightbulb turned on. “She told me the Force would answer me,” he sighed.

“Well, there you have it.”

“So, what, you mean to tell me you're the Force?”

“Part of it, yes. Just as you are, and your mother, and every other living thing in our Galaxy. It's… a lot to take in, I know.” Kanan gestured for Jacen to come closer.

“Wait, so…” Jacen started as he settled on his knees in front of his father, mimicking his meditative pose, “Does that mean you're not dead? Why didn't you come back sooner?”

Kanan’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh, I'm afraid I'm very much dead. But just because someone dies, that doesn't mean they're gone.”

Jacen pondered his words for a few moments before speaking again. “Alright. So the Force is helping me speak to you, so I'm assuming this is some sort of Force-void thing we're in?”

“It doesn't really have a name, but sure, let's go with that.”

“So… why now? I've come to Lothal a bunch with Mom, why didn't I ever stumble on this place before?”

“Because now you're finally ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“To continue the family tradition.”

Jacen narrowed his eyes. “You're going to have to be more specific.”

The corners of Kanan's mouth twitched in amusement. “Think about it for a second. Would the Force really call you here for flying lessons?”

Jacen tried to keep his thoughts from running in a million different directions.

He can't possibly mean…  becoming a Jedi? Me?

“But I've never really felt… Force-y,” Jacen commented.

“The Force is strong with you, Jacen,” Kanan smiled warmly. “It has been since the day you were born. You just haven't been attuned to it until now.”

“But why now ?”

“Because the balance of the Force is at risk of collapsing. You have already learned a great deal from your mom - now that you have grown into a young man, it is time for you to learn a new path.”

“... Jedi training?” Jacen asked softly.

Kanan nodded.

“But… how will you teach me if you're dead? Or… a Force ghost, or whatever. Do I have to stay here?”

“As much as I would love to share in that part of your life, I cannot teach you. I'm…” Kanan gave him a mischievous look, “dead serious.”

Jacen groaned.

“But in all seriousness,” Kanan continued, “someone else will guide you in the ways of the Force. Someone still living.”

“... Like Luke Skywalker? Do you want me to join his Jedi academy?”

“Oh, hell no. He's got enough on his hands - er, hand - with that lot he's got now. No... there's someone else I want you to seek out.”

“There's someone else besides Luke? Who?” Jacen could feel his excitement rising. Everyone always said that Luke was the last of the Jedi, but if there was someone else…

“He'll be difficult to find.”

“Who?”

“My former padawan.”

“ Who?! ”

“Ezra Bridger.”

Jacen gasped. “Really? He's out there? Aunt Sabine and Ahsoka went searching for him ages ago, but they still haven't come back!”

“Then I guess you’ll have to find them, too.” The edges of his father's form started glowing a soft white; the reunion of father and son was almost at its end.

“Wait, but how will I find them?” Desperation was creeping into the undertones of Jacen's voice.

“You’ll find your way. I have faith in you.” Kanan reached out and placed a hand on Jacen's shoulder. Though his body was rapidly dematerializing, the touch was surprisingly solid.

“But I don't even know where to start! Please, don't go !” Jacen cried out as he felt the void around him shift, causing his stomach to flip and the shape of Kanan Jarrus to further dematerialize.

“Do not be afraid. Trust in yourself. Trust in the Force. For I will always be with you…”

Vertigo overtook Jacen and he found himself lying flat on his back, staring up at the twin moons of Lothal.

“... my son ,” the words hung on the wind, whispering before it left to dance in the tall grass.

Jacen slowly sat up, wiping dirt from his tear-stained face. He was alone in the clearing, his speeder still parked at the edge of the field right where he'd left it. Getting up and brushing off his pants, he made his way over to the bike. Jacen's hand trembled when he held on to one of the handlebars.

What… what just happened?

Am I seriously going to become a Jedi? Just like my father?

He heard a rustling off to the side. Whirling around, he laid eyes on the white Lothcat, sitting innocently in front of the tall grass and watching him expectantly.

Jacen nervously chuckled as he tried to calm his racing heart. “Hey there, little guy. You wouldn't happen to know where I can find Ezra, do you?”

The white Lothcat simply gave him a knowing look and meowed.

#rebelsfourthexchange #superherotiger #jacen syndulla #kanan jarrus #rebelsgiftexchange #star wars rebels #swr fanfic #the jedi writes

[imagine-loki]

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 14

AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit.

RATING: T

NOTES: Here is the next chapter of this continuing story. I sincerely feel so lousy that I don’t update as regularly as some other amazing writers on here, so I have begun a tag list to directly notify readers when a new chapter is available. Please don’t hesitate to message me @goddessofmischief if you wish to be on this list! As always, thank you for reading! ♥︎

I hitched up my skirts upon descending the narrow stairwell that led downstairs to the servant’s area. The clean white apron that was layered upon Elsie’s black pleated skirt momentarily caught my eyes before she rounded the corner and disappeared further down the hall. “Elsie, wait!” I called to her desperately. I noticed that she stepped inside a small storage cupboard and I followed her inside before she had the chance to close the door on me. She returned the broom back to its proper place before she turned her back to me and gazed out the window onto the hilly moors, their curvatures highlighted by the rising sun above.

“What you saw back there Elsie was not what it looked like. I swear.” I admitted straightforwardly. “I know, miss. I saw that the master was injured, and that your bodice was drying by the fire. I have always respected your decorum. It’s just…” She grew quiet. “What is it?” I probed.

She turned my way, and I saw that her hazel eyes were filled with anxiety. “I have been keeping something from you, Victoria.” She let out an jittery sigh. “I’m so sorry. I just wasn’t sure if I should deliver it to you or not, but now I believe you should see it. I just don’t want the master to be mad with me.” “Show me. Please.” I politely instructed, eager to uncover what she possibly could have found.

I trailed behind her as she guided me to her room in the north corridor, firmly bolting the door once we were both inside. She then got on her knees and reached underneath her bed. Elsie blindly searched around for a moment before she finally caught hold of what she was looking for. Upon standing back up, she delivered the item into my hands.

It was a small dark brown book that featured an entanglement of elaborate gilded flowers on its cover. “I found it on the day after the master had departed.” She said. “I had been told to clean up his study by Mrs. Cunningham, and it was lying in one of his trash bins.”

I opened the book to find that an inscription lined the front cover. My master’s sharp and slightly italicized handwriting was immediately recognizable. For Victoria, Best wishes for a happy 18th birthday. Yours affectionately, Loki - May 1877 -

I turned the first leaf to find that a piece of parchment paper had been affixed onto the page. Gently lifting it up, I observed that a pressed deep red carnation had been taped to the page. Below the pressed flower read: The first flower to bloom in our garden.

The next page was a title page, in which my master had delicately written A Compendium of Poetry in the center of the page. I quickly skimmed through the rest of the book to discover that its entirety consisted of a selection of poems that my master had selected, from well known poets, and painstakingly written out by hand to fit into this one book, that he had meant to give to me for my upcoming birthday in early June.

I recalled a conversation we had over a month ago, in which I told him that I had never really ventured into poetry and that I was quite overwhelmed as to where I should begin. He must have composed this book to share his favorite poems with me, and to therefore serve as a introductory guide. 

My heart swelled at the book that I held in my hands. But why would he have thrown away such a sincere gift? I expressed my thanks to Elsie for delivering the book to me, while I also ensured that she wouldn’t be reprimanded for what happened earlier, nor for retrieving the book from the master’s trash.

I eventually returned to my master’s room, in hopes of finding him still in bed, but he had already gone. Opening up his windows to let some light in, I noticed that conversing voices could be heard from outside. It appeared that Dickon was cautiously recommending something to my master. “Let me accompany you, sir. You don’t seem fit to walk alone.” “I’m fine, Dickon.” My master said, a hearty chuckle following his words. “Return downstairs to your breakfast.”

My master then came into view, fully dressed and leaning onto his ebony walking stick for support. His slow steps made it evident that he still was weak and my spirits further dampened at the sight the longer I stood there. After fetching my shawl, I dashed to the door. I quickly ran down the stairs and out the same door in which he had previously exited out of. Not having traveled far, I found him on the path that bordered the walled garden and called out his name.

“Why Victoria,” He remarked upon turning around. “Are you no longer cross with me?” Grinning light-heartedly, he adjusted the grey flannel scarf that he had placed about his neck for warmth. Despite how it was practically summer, the mornings and nights always proved to be rather chilly in Yorkshire. “I never was cross with you, sir.” I responded, while placing my arm supportively around his. We walked onwards in silence, listening to the early birdsong that floated towards us from the nearby trees.

“Are you feeling better, sir?” I asked as we rounded the bend and traveled closer towards the garden gates that were situated on the opposite side of the enclosure. “Much, which is especially due to the care that you provided me with last night. I don’t believe I ever thanked you, Victoria.” “That’s alright. I’m quite used to my actions going unnoticed.” His steps slowed upon hearing my response. “But they weren’t unnoticed. Not by me.”

We neared the iron gates and I moved past my master to unlatch the heavy door and hold it open for him to pass through. He took small steps, and I noticed that he slightly limped whenever he tried to stabilize himself on his right leg. “And what is it that you have been reading this morning?” He inquired once I had rejoined him inside the garden. At first I was puzzled by his question, but then I realized that I still held the book of poems in my hand. I simply had not been able to let it go.

“Nothing that would be of any interest to you, sir.” I briskly replied, and as I meant to turn away and walk towards a nearby bench, he snatched the small book out of my hands. My fingers around the small volume unfurled easily, given how much I was taken off guard by how quickly he had pried the book from me.

He looked down upon the book, his brows furrowing with confusion at what he had found. Without turning his eyes from the book, he hobbled over to the bench and perched down upon it. “So I presume that Elsie held onto this, even after finding it in my trash bin?” “Yes, sir.” I confirmed as I nervously folded my arms behind my back, unsure of how he would next respond. Was he angry at Elsie for keeping it? Would he dispose of the book once again?

He turned the book over in his hands and sighed heavily. “Well I am most thankful for her decision to save it, as I would have deeply regretted what would have happened to it otherwise.”

As I still stood a distance away from him, he beckoned me forward to sit besides him before continuing. “You see, I had become possessed by the idea that you would dislike the poems that I selected, and that you would more likely appreciate a collection of poetry that I could purchase for you from the bookshop. Halfway into completing the book, I had tossed it away.” I leant back slightly on the bench, the dappled sunlight accentuating the bounty of flowers about us. His soft black tresses, however in slight disarray, beautifully framed his pale, bruised face. “You were wrong to conclude that, sir,” I finally spoke. “For I never received such a beautiful and thoughtful gift before. And besides, I would only wish to appreciate the poems that you cherish, rather than those of a scholar’s preference.”

He chuckled gaily. “Well in that case, I shall complete the compendium for you by your birthday.” “Thank you, Loki.” I said with a broad smile. “And I believe this belongs to you.” After leaving Elsie, I had gone to my room to fetch the daguerreotype of myself that he had told me to watch over while he was away. He accepted the encased photograph into his hands with beaming gratitude before he restored it to its proper place: the inner pocket of his suit jacket, directly above his heart.

We proceeded to stroll about our garden for a period of time, appreciating together the dewy speckled flowers that seemed to sparkle in the early sunlight. I recalled to him the matter of Elsie and James’ secret and ongoing engagement, and he sympathetically agreed that Elsie’s marital status, and where she would live, would by no means put her job in any danger.

My master then was the one to relate some news. He mentioned that he had received a letter from Mr. Albert Blythe, Agnes’ father, who had written that he and his wife Harriet had safely arrived in England. Mr. Blythe planned on traveling to Heathcote immediately after retrieving Agnes from the Hambro House, which he had estimated would be in approximately a fortnight. The thought of seeing my best friend again so soon made my spirits soar.

¨¨¨°º0º°¨¨¨

My master regained his health in the week that passed, and his wound had miraculously healed in just a matter of days. The only problem that troubled me was one of a personal nature. One that I was rather ashamed of.

Each night when I would retreat to my own bed, feelings of loneliness suppressed me. The cool bedsheets of the empty space besides me on the large mattress made me tremble as I would recall the way that it had felt to be held so closely, so tenderly, by another being. The ghostly remnants that I felt of his embrace on my body would almost pursue me to get out of bed and hasten to his room, but I did not have to be reminded by how inappropriate this action would be deemed.

I came to resent the time of day in which I would leave my master behind to retire to my isolated room. After dinner it had become habitual for us to spend time together in either his study or the small parlour in which the piano was located. As it got closer to midnight, Loki would insist that we return to our rooms. Despite my drooping eyelids and resting position in an armchair, I would persuade him that I had no intention of retiring just yet. It wasn’t until he would blow out the surrounding candles and physically pull me up from my chair, that I would bid him goodnight and drag myself to my chamber.

The Blythe’s arrived to Heathcote approximately a week later, just as Mr. Blythe had estimated in his letter. As by custom, we all waited outside while anticipating their arrival. They had taken the train from Birmingham, so Loki had sent Peter with the carriage to pick them up at the nearest station, which was about an hour away. “Do you think that they will come to love Yorkshire as much as I do, sir?” I asked as we stood upon the stone platform below the massive set of stairs that led up to the house. He grinned, and tilted his head downwards so that he could meet my eyes. “Yes, I am sure they will. The cottage, and the surrounding farmland of the property, would make anyone fond of the countryside.”

The carriage shortly came into view across the distant hills, and in a few moments it strolled directly underneath Heathcote’s grand porte cochère. Agnes jumped out of the carriage once Peter halted the horses, and she almost stumbled over when running to me, given that she had been in the vehicle for quite some time and wasn’t used to being on her feet at once. It was quite a pleasant sight to see her wearing a bright blue frock instead of her pale gray uniform.

“Oh, Victoria.” She cried with delight while pulling me into a tight hug. “How how have you been?” “Very well. Thank you, Agnes.” I answered. When she pulled away from me, she placed her attention on my guardian. Her eyes blinked slowly up at him, as she became rigid beneath his scrutiny. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.” She said cautiously. I could tell that his presence before her still made her somewhat nervous. Perhaps she still was not entirely sure of what to think of my master. It wasn’t entirely her fault, however, given how much I had talked poorly of him in those letters that I had initially exchanged with her upon my arrival at Heathcote.

“Welcome to Heathcote, Agnes.” My master said warmly before turning his attention to her parents, who had finally made their way to us after having a brief conversation about their luggage with Peter. Mr. Albert Blythe was a tall man with an athletic frame, while his wife, Harriet, possessed a rather lanky figure. Both were extremely tan from their time in Australia, where they undoubtedly spent many hours a day on an open gold mine.

They wore light garments made of linen that represented their lives on the Australian outback. I could actually picture what it must have been like for them on that continent at the end of the world: Mr. Blythe doing the back breaking work of digging all day in search of gold nuggets, while Mrs. Blythe attended to distributing nourishment to the vast amount of men and other families on the mining fields.

Loki and I both shook each of their hands before he cordially welcomed them into our home by giving them a brief tour around the foyer. “You live here?” Agnes whispered to me with amazement, as Loki discussed further about the history of the manor: how it had been home to many baronets throughout the previous centuries, dating back to the 1600s. Funnily enough, each of these honorable men never became fully satisfied with the estate to live in it longer than a few months. “Yes.” I answered back while suppressing a giggle due to the ironic humor I found at her reaction to the mansion and how much it differed from the viewpoint’s that those baronets once had.

She continued to gawk at the exquisite tapestries and priceless paintings that hung on the walls until my master suggested that I show Agnes to her room, which was conveniently situated right down the corridor from my own. Loki had went through a lot of trouble in fixing up Heathcote before the Blythe’s arrival. He had made sure that the guest rooms were in tip-top shape, and had even hired additional servants from the village inn in order to help Mrs. Cunningham with the cleaning. He had never done this to impress our last guests: Lavinia and her parents.

I agreed to his suggestion and Agnes and I began to leave the room, arm-in-arm. “So, has he confessed his enduring love for you yet?” She whispered to me once we turned our backs to the adults in the room. “Agnes!” I softly exclaimed, as I hastily pulled her away to the west wing before she could say something else of a similar nature in the presence of my master and her parents.

She continued to bombard me with similar ridiculous questions on the way to her room. I remained serious and mute, which only made her laugh more. We finally reached her room and I opened the door for her to walk through first. She only took one step inside before she became rigid and stared open-mouthed at the interiors of her room. It was just the same size as my chamber, but the colors and decorations of hers were much more brighter and cheerful. I much more preferred the dark, melancholic burgundy hue that my room embodied.

“This is where I am to stay?” She inquired with wonderment. Given that she still had not moved, I had to squeeze between her body and the doorframe in order to come inside. “Yes, this room is entirely yours. The washroom is just through that door to the right. Also, Loki said you are welcome to stay here whenever you like, that is if your parents ultimately decide to remain in Yorkshire.” It was then that she moved to face me, and I noticed that she was smiling from ear to ear. “Loki? You are on a first name basis with him now?” “Yes, I am.” I confidently responded to her inquiry. “Well then,” She said while walking over to her bed and settling down upon her propped pillows. “You sure have a lot of explaining to do.” She tucked her arms under her head with a smirk as she waited for me to join her.

“You slept next to him? In his bed?!” She squealed loudly with delight a few moments later. “Shh, Agnes. Please. Don’t talk so loud.” I stressed. I had disclosed to her what had happened on the night of his return to Heathcote, without including any of the details that still mystified me, such as where exactly he had gone and how he had returned home with no carriage nor horse to accompany him. I also said that he had merely sprained his ankle, rather than including the details of his deep wound that had healed way too quickly.

“Well, I was not expecting this.” She raved, completely engrossed in what I was telling her. “I slept at his side. That is all.” I calmly confided. “He just wanted to be comforted because of his injury and the long journey he had taken to get back home.” “If you say so.” She smiled broadly once again. I looked blankly across at her from my seated position at the foot of her bed, before I stood up and walked over to the mirror of her vanity table, which was identical to the one I had in my room. I crossed my arms tightly about my chest as I met my own saddened eyes in the looking glass.

Agnes joined me at the mirror as I knew that she could sense something was wrong. She wordlessly placed her hand upon my shoulder. “You were right, Agnes. You have been right all this time“ My voice was little more then a whisper. For once, she didn’t speak but allowed me to continue. I took a deep sigh. “I-I think I love him.” Her frolicsome behavior had disappeared with my confession and she now seemed highly composed, yet interested. “Won’t you tell him?” She asked optimistically.

I shook my head and turned away from the mirror. I instead leaned back against the wall: the calico patterned wall felt cool against the back of my exposed neck. “No, I cannot. He still plans to propose to Lavinia.“ "How do you know that?” The tone in which she asked this question distinctly exhibited her concerns for my happiness, and although I was dispirited by the topic of our discussion, I was glad that I had someone to talk it over with. I was immensely fortunate to have a friend like Agnes.

"He has bought her wedding ring. He even told me so himself.” I slowly lamented. This conveyance of information made her as still and silent as a mighty tree, in which no gushes of wind quaked its branches nor shook off its leaves. “Therefore, my affections must remain concealed. Forevermore.” I closed my eyes as I sealed my fate. “Oh, Victoria. Don’t say that.” She objected. “I mean, who am I but an encumbrance to him anyway? He’s just taking care of me to uphold his promise to my father. If he had never met my father, I would still be at the orphanage.” “But you’re not, and you should be grateful. Yes, Miss Grey is a wonderful caretaker, but can’t you see? Mr. Laufeyson gives you so much freedom, Victoria. He is kind to you, and treats you like an equal.” “That all will change once Lavinia becomes mistress of Heathcote.” I declared. “It may not. You should remain hopeful.”

I gently scoffed at what she suggested. “Hopeful? I have been hopeful all my life, and most of my hopes turn into disappointments. But I must stop complaining to you, Agnes. Peter will be around with your luggage shortly, and I will allow you to get settled.” She reached for my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry yourself, Vic. I’m sure everything will work out in the end.” All I could respond to this was that I would see her at supper this evening.

I exited the house through the servants wing, my feet steadily taking me further away from the mansion and onto the deserted moors. I turned and looked back at the mansion and caught some movement in one of first floor windows. I then realized that it was the window in my master’s study. His figure, donned in black, was suddenly recognizable, and I saw that he held up his hand and waved at me. I briefly returned the gesture before refacing the hills ahead. My hands drifted to my sides to lift my skirts so to prevent them from getting caught in the low bracken ferns that lied before me.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Submitted fic #submission #chapter 14 #mr. laufeysons ward #goddessofmischief #1800 #Tragic accident #parents #orphan #mysterious #ward #hard #mansion #countryside #cruel intentions #care

[aka-willow]

Firecracker

gif

Words: 785

Characters: Willow Wren, Marty Fields

Prompt/Tag: “I didn’t know that this would happen.” & “Going somewhere?” “Nowhere that concerns you.” x /

Summary: Willow gets emo about her powers + past

Timeline: March 2015

Song: When Will You Come Home? – M83

A/N: Thank you to everyone who just sent me prompts so quickly! They motivate me to write and also you guys are the best and pick fun ones THANK YOU.

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I sit on the guest bed at Marty’s apartment fuming. Peter had badgered me all through lunch with questions as to what was going on, when I finally snapped and stormed out. I know I shouldn’t have—he’s one of my best friends—and though I texted him an apology twenty minutes ago, he still hasn’t responded.

He’s probably pissed.

There’s a soft knock on my door and Marty pokes his head in. “Everything good? I heard you come home.”

“I’m fine,” I say, turning further away to face the window. “Just—I don’t know. Not even mad, really.”

Marty, knowing me well, sits down on the edge of the bed. I explain to him my dilemma with Peter. “I didn’t know that this would happen,” I say.

“You didn’t know… that he would be annoyed if you didn’t tell him about some secret life that you’re obviously hiding?”

“Well… yeah!” I say. “And so I texted him sorry, but he still hasn’t responded.”

“Give him more time,” says Marty.

I know Marty is trying his best, but I’m annoyed by even him. He doesn’t know what it’s like with powers like these. To be constantly on guard, constantly worried that I’ll be dragged back to the Facility. And having to juggle this life with trying to live my normal life I had dreamed of.

I wish my siblings were here. I wish we all were together. I wish I wasn’t so alone in this.

Maybe it’s just me being cringy and emo again, but I jump off the bed, suddenly feeling like I need to explode through the roof.

“Going somewhere?” Marty asks.

“Nowhere that concerns you,” I say.

“Willow—” Marty starts, but I grab my headphones and I’m out the front door before he can finish.

And now Marty is probably mad that I just blew him off too.

I feel like a loose firecracker, out of control and seconds from destruction. The Kilgrave situation didn’t help that feeling at all. Neither did my recent media appearances.

I put my headphones in and head for the building’s roof access. It’s an overcast day, and I know where I want to go.

Up.

I run for the edge and leap off of it, spreading my wings and soaring for the clouds, breaking through into the sunny landscape of sky above it. I fly as fast as I can, my eyes watering and my skin burning from the wind. I go faster, in loops, through the clouds, divebombing and rising back up.

I think about my siblings. We weren’t blood siblings—our gene pool was too diverse for that.

I say their names, in the same order we were always called, in order of the months we were named after. We didn’t use those names, though. We used the names we gave each other.

Gooblin. Pip. Pingu. Burr. Spark. Danny. Manny. Dew. Fanisimo. Me (Heckergal). France. Sabbath.

Gooblin could give people inconvenient curses that lasted for hours. Pip had visions of the future. Pingu created illusions with her mind. Burr had telekinesis and a photographic memory. Spark has superspeed and agility. Danny and Manny were twins that shapeshifted. Dew could travel through mirrors. Fanisimo was a whiz with tech. France could read others’ emotions. Sabbath could perform mimicry and project her voice in a variety of ways.

Twelve of us. Twelve powered people that didn’t exist (which, yes, caused some issues when Hogarth tried to get me enrolled in school).

When I left, the doctors were testing new powers, apparently the powers “we were meant to have all along.” The rest were just side effects.

I didn’t stick around long enough to find out what those powers were, but I had a feeling mine had something to do with the wind I had been able to summon so quickly at the tower incident.

I still have so many questions.

Who am I?

Why was I created?

I descend and land on another rooftop. As I double over to catch my breath, I think of the Facility again and my siblings. My family.

You can’t forget about that forever.

Watch me.

My phone buzzes and I check it. It’s from Peter.

>Peter: No prob. I’m not mad and I’m sorry I asked so many questions. We good.

I text him back.

>Willow: You sure? I wish I could tell you, but I can’t right now.

>Peter: You’re good! Really. I’m sorry I pushed you. It’s your business, not mine. I’ll see you at school tw—bring your cards to lunch!

I smile at the message, with the suspicion that Aunt May had some hand in helping him write it.

Sometimes you’re just way too dramatic.

#ww writing #willow wren #marty fields

[weiwuxiian]

The Untamed / Chenqing Ling Episode 6-8

I’m sorry for all the spamming !!! I didn’t expect to be so into the live action but it just gets more interesting ; O ;  Also slowly getting a crush on Wang Yibo/LWJ’s actor. Last POST I SWEAR !!! until the episodes next week... AS ALWAYS, SPOILERS INCOMING !!!

Ep 6

NHS is late for the party because he wanted peanuts. The boys barricaded their doors and place a silencing talisman over it. WWX teases JC about his ‘criteria’ for a wife and got banned by the whole cultivational world. They fool around as JC tries to murder WWX and NHS is trying to protect him. LWJ walks in, while WWX takes the lead, JC and NHS feigned drunk and ran away when WWX gave the cue. WWX placed a talisman on LWJ and made him obey him and call him ‘Wei-gege’. But when WWX wants to touch his forehead ribbon, LWJ snaps awake and says only family members and his wife are allowed to touch it. WWX is like,  “Pfff wife, your Lan sect has so many rules I doubt any girl would was to marry into the Lan Sect.” LWJ is like, “I am fine with that.” and WWX gets awkward... tries to joke and say, “Since you’re a lil fuddy daddy, and your dad is a big fuddy daddy. Does that mean your mother is very ridiculous? (since LWJ called him ridiculous).” and LWJ is like, “I do not have a mother.” and WWX immediately feels bad and offers LWJ his own story too, saying he lost his mother at the age of 4 and cant even remember how they look like. His earliest memories were only being chased by dogs. 

The next day, a Gusu disciple reported to LQR and LXC that WWX and co were caught drinking alcohol in the CR. LXC chuckles good-naturedly but spits out his wine when the Gusu disciple says LWJ is also involved, and LXC is like “What?!”

LQR and LXC go out to bestow punishment. LWJ and WWX gets 300 beating each, JC and NHS gets 50. WWX and JC makes JYL baby them and cook mutton stew for them. They meet LXC on the way, LXC telling WWX that LQR and Cangse Sanren used to be classmates, so he was annoyed easily by WWX. He tells WWX to go to the fountain to heal. 

WWX goes to the fountain and meets LWJ. They both fell into a cave with a mysterious guqin and a bunch of rabbits. LWJ is like “Why is that rabbit wearing a forehead ribbon.” The guqin starts attacking WWX and it appears to attack anyone who isn’t a Lan. WWX sees the rabbit with the forehead ribbon and asks LWJ to give him his forehead ribbon. LWJ flies over and ties his forehead ribbon around WWX’s wrist.

LWJ performs Inquiry on the guqin and summons Lan Yi. Lan Yi tells them a story:

A long time ago in the Burial Mounds there lived a tyrant called Xue Conghai (Xue Yang’s ancestor??) who as a pet Xuanwu and crafted the Demonic Metal, using human sacrifice to feed it. The Five great sects including Wen Mao, rose up against him and killed Xue Conghai. They spilt the metal into 4 pieces and sealed them away. Lan Yi thought she could use the metal for good and tried to unseal it. Her best friend at that time is Baoshan Sanren, who tried to stop her, but Lan Yi ceases to listen. So she realized her mistake after that, uses her powers to seal the last piece of the Demonic Metal in the cave for hundreds of years. However, her powers are slowly fading and she could no longer uphold it. LWJ swears an oath that he will find the Demonic Metal and destroys it. WWX also pledges before Lan Yi. LWJ is like, “This doesn’t concern you, you are not a Lan.” WWX is like, “Im not heartless. Even though I’m from Yunmeng Jiang, we help each other when the other is in need.” Lan Yi is pleasantly surprised to find that WWX is the son of one of Baoshan Sanren’s disciple and says he reflects Baoshan’s teachings. She gives them the last piece of Demonic Metal and vanishes.

LWJ and WWX returns and finds that they have been gone for almost one day and night. They gave the metal to LQR and LXC, and finds that they already knew about it. Only all leaders of the Lan Sect from generation to generation knew about this secret.  

Ep7

LQR and LXC made WWX swore not to tell anyone. On their way out, NHS came to to ask after WWX and asked what happened, LWJ almost told him, but WWX stopped him, bullshit about a big snake trying to eat them and scares NHS off. 

WRH sends XY off to Yueyang to retrieve one piece of the Demonic Metal. WC is jealous that he isn’t chosen and seems to have plotted something. 

They make lanterns. JZX and JYL ship is thick here. WWX asks LWJ is they want to set the lantern off together. Lwj says he’s used to being alone, but WWX pushes on and says habits can be changed and he doesn’t need to be alone, besides, he made the lantern with LWJ in mind and shows him his lantern with a golden-eyed rabbit. LWJ smiles fainted and it made WWX laugh, saying “You smiled!” LWJ immediately gets nervous and picks up Bichen, WWX is scared off and accidentally pushes NHS’ lantern into the fire. They set off the lanterns and made wishes:

NHS wished that he could pass the exam.  JC steals a glance at WQ as she wishes that WN would live a life of good health. LWJ steals a glance at WWX and was impressed when WWX wished that he could help all the weak and poor and that there would be no injustice in the world.

WWX asks JYL what she wished about and guessed that it’s about marrying into a good family. JZX walks off, WWX runs after him and ask that it mean... etc etc they got into a fight. JFM and JGS comes to Gusu and after settling the matter, LQR retains JFM to tell him about the Demonic Metal. JFM tells LQR and LXC about WRH receiving a guest with the surname ‘Xue’ and they were shocked. 

WWX tries to cheer up JYL by sending a paper man into her room and she could guess it’s him. WWX tries to run away but was caught by her and he asked her to scold him, but she says it’s not his fault. With JC, they approach LQR and LQR to take their leave back to Yunmeng. On their way out, WWX caught LXC saying “Have a safe journey.” to LWJ and concludes that LWJ might be going to retrieve the Demonic Metal alone.

WWX visits a place and it’s discovered that he took all of Lan Yi’s rabbits and tried to raise them outside of the CR. WWX talks to the rabbits, asking if they’re fine and etc, and he wants to bring them back to Yunmeng but feels like LWJ would be lonely without them. 

LXC and LWJ watches them leave and LXC is like “the CR would be quiet again without Master Wei... I wonder how long it will last.” He asks if LWJ wants to tell WWX about his trip, but LWJ says it doesn’t matter.

Ep8

JFM, JYL, JC, and WWX set off to go back home to Yunmeng. On their way, they stop by WWX’s rabbits. As they patted the rabbits, JC is like “Why did you have so many rabbits?” and WWX says he picked them up from the road because he couldn’t tell him he’s seen Lan Yi. JC then, “Could it be that you wanted to eat rabbit meat?” and WWX quickly covers the rabbit’s ears, “JC!! You can let rabbits hear something like that!! They baby...” (I found this so cute!!!)  After they left, LWJ passed by the same passage. He greets the rabbits and says he hopes they’ll meet again.

Back in LXC’s place, WC visits him and asks for the Demonic Metal. LXC tells WC go to home. WC threatens him and says he knows that LWJ just descended the CR this morning, and laughs when LXC is shocked. LXC prays for LWJ to be safe.

Back with the Jiangs, JFM found a letter with a smiley face left to him by WWX. JC is mad that WWX left without forewarning and says he’ll catch him back, but JFM says it’s fine. JYL tells JC that if WWX left, it must be because it’s something important. 

WWX and LWJ gets a random change of (more attractive) clothes. WWX runs after LWJ and annoys him, LWJ calls him ridiculous but lets him onto the boat anyways. WC is seen stalking them.

LWJ is moving too fast and WWX asks him to wait for him, but LWJ ignores him, so WWX creates a string using an array so that he and LWJ are tied together and couldn’t stray apart from each other further than 2meters. It just ends with LWJ dragging WWX across the mountains. They arrive in a city and met NHS. 

JC leaves Yunmeng to find WWX. JYL caught him, but lets him and tells him to be careful. JC appreciates that she’s supportive of his decision.

WWX and NHS fooled around before WWX noticed LWJ is interested in a crowd of people and asks why he isn’t approaching them to see what’s up. LWJ comments that there are too many people and he doesn’t want to crowd. WWX takes LWJ’s hand and runs into the crowd regardless, NHS tags along. They notice they were all crowding upon a sign that says [novel reference] if you recite a poem correctly a beautiful fae would appear and show herself to you. They bask in flower petals for a while then later finds out that WC had came earlier and took a piece of the Demonic Metal from the fae, so she’s gone.

On the road, NHS starts associating himself with them as WWX tells him about their quest. WWX begins to get a little annoyed that NHS is being too intimidate with them. NHS was like “So if we’re holding one piece of the Demonic Metal, wouldn’t that be dangerous?” and WWX responds, “What ‘we’? It’s just me,” points at LWJ, “and him!! There is no ‘we’ !! you just tagged along from nowhere!!” 

WC scene again.  WQ tells WC that they should go to Yueyang to aid Xue Yang, but WQ says he knows that WQ is prevent him from getting near WWX and LWJ and warns her not to use WRH to threaten him. Here WC reveals that WQ’s family (Granny, A-Yuan, Uncle Four) were all from Dafan mountain and WQ says WRH promised not to hurt her family. WC laughs and says he is going to awaken a man-eating beast (hint: goddess).

JC runs into WQ in a coffee shop. WQ purposely picks a fight with him by copying all his orders and actions, and uses the opportunity to tell JC that WWX is in trouble in Dafan Mountain. JC thanked her and runs away to WWX’s aid.

WWX, LWJ, and NHS meet an old lady on the road (suspect to be A-Yuan’s Granny). Granny seems to be mumbling about a goddess coming to life as WWX asks for a place to sleep. She leads them to a cave. Uncle Four walks out and tells him that the goddess was originally a rock who developed a face after receiving prayers from many, but was sealed/controlled by someone powerful. WWX saw the cenotaph in his hands having a ‘Wen’ character and asks if that someone ‘powerful’ is from the Wen sect, Uncle Four insist that he doesn’t remember. 

At night as they slept, NHS had a nightmare and woke LWJ and WWX up screaming. The goddess suddenly comes to life. WWX and LWJ teamed up to fight her. In the process, the goddess was mainly attacking LWJ persistently so WWX asks LWJ if he thought she fancied him, and LWJ asks him to shut his mouth. After that, WWX and LWJ sealed the goddess, but a bunch of walking corpses suddenly appeared and started attacking them. WC’s black phantom bird appears and NHS points it out. WWX is like ‘stupid bird.’

#♫▐ OOC. ─「在下叫小微光」 #// light live blogging cql #// last one for this week !!! sorry to everyone im just really excited hahah and needed people to know #// ill start writing again tomorrow !!!