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wishesunderthestars · 7 months

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Eunoia // Ch. 26

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 12.1k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence,

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It was the second time Taehyung was in Jungkook’s atelier—only recently had Jungkook started thinking of it like that, before it was the atelier—but he was looking around him like it was a fairytale and everything was made of magic. Jungkook guessed he must have looked a little like that as well the first time you had shown him the room and told him it was his to do as he pleased. Athens and the Parthenon stretching on the wall never failed to inspire wonder and a deep respect in him, regardless of how long it had been since the first time he walked inside.

Everything else in the room was quite different from that first day. The once pristine and unused room was now splattered in paint. It was everywhere, on the floor and the cabinets and on the many newspapers that he used to cover everything. The first time he had stained the floor with paint, he had gone to you with teary eyes, lowered ears, and a hundred apologies on the tip of his tongue. You had simply laughed and told him that the room was his and he could paint the whole floor if he wanted to. The only thing you asked of him was to be careful of the wall painting. Jungkook would have never touched it in the first place.

Finished canvases were leaning against the cabinets and the walls. Most of them were of places Jungkook found beautiful, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon, a neighborhood in Amsterdam he had seen in one of your photos. There were also a few paintings of the pack, you and Seokjin cooking in the kitchen, Yoongi playing the piano, Namjoon and Hoseok under the large tree in the garden, Taehyung with Alice at the lake, and Jimin smiling so wide his eyes turned into crescent moons.

Jungkook longed for Jimin with an insatiable hunger. Now that he had gotten a taste of him once and Jimin told him he wanted it, now that there was no guilt and anguish, he couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted to always be touching him, holding him, and scenting him. His scent was like an aphrodisiac to him and he was addicted.

However, when Taehyung had shyly asked about his atelier, he was compelled to show it to him. It wasn’t often that Taehyung asked for anything and although he hadn’t specifically asked to see the room, Jungkook knew he would like it. Taehyung’s smile was also addicting and rare like a precious gem. So, he had left Jimin with Seokjin to cook in the kitchen and had taken Taehyung’s hand and climbed down the stairs. His hand was soft and he could still feel its ghost on his palm.

He was right, Taehyung’s smile was worth it. It was a tiny one, a small curve of his lips, but it was stunning.

His tiger ears twitched when his eyes landed on the painting of him. He approached slowly, taking it in. A hand reached out but he drew it back before it could touch the canvas.

In the painting, Alice was grinning brightly at Taehyung, one of her rainbow butterfly hair-clips clipped on his dark hair. But what Jungkook loved the most about it was Taehyung’s smile. For the first time, with Alice, Taehyung looked genuinely happy. The painting didn’t do the moment justice, he hadn’t managed to capture the tiger hybrid perfectly. He had taken a picture of the two of them and used it as reference but it was difficult, almost impossible, to immortalize Taehyung’s beauty in that moment.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook asked gently.

Taehyung startled as if the painting had enchanted him and Jungkook’s voice broke the spell. He hugged himself with one hand, almost like he wanted to stop himself from touching the painting. “It’s… beautiful.”

“It was a beautiful moment,” Jungkook agreed. “Alice is incredible, right?”

Taehyung nodded slowly. “I… have it. The butterfly. She doesn’t want back… it.”

They both looked at the painting. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they were seeing the same thing but maybe they were.

“Do you want to paint again?” he asked, breaking the silence. He took down the half-finished canvas of a beach from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to agree this time. They picked up different brushes, chose a few tubes of oil paint and set themselves to work. Jungkook showed him how to paint a sunset—he had perfected the skill through a lot of observation and many YouTube videos. Taehyung seemed to have fun blending the colors and drawing the shapes of semi-transparent clouds.

They stayed in the atelier for a few hours until they were called for dinner by Hoseok, whose heart-shaped smile at seeing them together in their paint-splattered clothes rivaled the beauty of the sunset. After the meal, Jungkook asked if Taehyung would like to take the painting of him and Alice to his room. They hung it on the wall with Yoongi’s help and went back to the garden together.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were filming at Monmouth Manufacturing for the day. They were the last couple of scenes you would be filming there for Season 1. Hopefully—and most probably—, you would see it again next year, or the year after that, filming for Season 2. First, you would have to finish Crooked Kingdom and then towards the end of the year, maybe you could work on the Raven Cycle. Your schedule was already crazy and you were troubled about what that meant for the next year.

A headache was brewing behind your temples and you were trying very hard to ignore it. You had been at the studios since 6 o’clock in the morning and you were going crazy. It would be one of those 15-16 hour days. You could see it coming. The executive producer of Paper Hearts had called to tell you that you were desperately needed for a board meeting for the next season. They had changed the time of the meeting to later in the afternoon to fit your schedule, which proved that it was important. You dreaded the drive to the other side of Los Angeles and what was sure to be a very long discussion.

During your lunch break, you texted Namjoon that you would be late again. He didn’t say anything but you knew he was disappointed. He had to be. You had barely spent any time with them in the past few days. There were also matters you still had to discuss. You hadn’t told the other hybrids about the thing between the three of you and they deserved to know. Your headache got worse just thinking about it.

You flipped through the script during a small break, sipping on your third cup of coffee of the day. It was making you jittery but the other option was falling asleep in your chair.

“Okay, I think we are good to move on to the next scene,” you told Will. “And then we’re done for the day.”

“Should I get someone to call the actors?”

“Yeah, see if they are done with makeup and send them in.” You rolled your neck and let out a heavy sigh. “All things considered it’s going pretty well.”

Will chuckled as he motioned for someone from the staff to come closer. “For someone who’s been here since six, you’re doing remarkably well.”

You waited for him to send the man to fetch the actors before speaking again. “We’ll see about that when we’re done with this scene. If I’m on my feet and awake by then, I deserve an award.”

Will shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve seen you do worse. Do you remember when we were filming ‘The Grand Masquerade’ in Prague? You were running on three hours of sleep a night for a week. I thought you would fall asleep during filming and wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”

“I was younger then,” you shrugged it off. You eyed the script again, focusing on your notes. “ I don’t have the same energy.”

“It was three years ago.”

“Three years can be a long time.”

You could understand that better than anyone, considering that this year sometimes seemed like a decade to you. In a year, your whole life had changed. You were different, everything was different from last year. Three years could be a very long time, indeed. But also the blink of an eye.

One of the actors arrived and you both greeted him. Soon, he was swept away by the movement director.

“I think you need another break,” Will declared in all of his dramatic glory.

You tapped your long nails on your plastic cup, the action was strangely soothing. “I think I need another coffee.”

“You certainly need a break,” Will insisted. “And you certainly don’t need another coffee.”

He had noticed your restlessness, then. “We just came back from a break. And there is no time for another one. After we are done here, promotions for Six of Crows begin then there is the premiere and the tour and they are getting everything ready to begin filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts. And Crooked Kingdom is next year and I am very behind on that.”

Will’s face did that thing he did whenever he was done with you, his features slacking like he was bored and a little irritated. “You can’t be behind on something that hasn’t even started yet. Be serious.”

“I am. Deadly.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Break. You need a break.”

The rest of the actors arrived then and the subject was dropped in favor of going over the details of the scene with them. They took their places and filming began. There was a place where the scene kept being snagged and you had to go over it four times to get it right and five more to perfect it.

By the end, you were running like you were being hunted to find John and drive to the company building. The meeting as you had expected was long and tiring. At least, it was a productive one. You discussed the script, the new additions, and the schedule. You shared a few worries and disagreements you had and you mostly managed to find the middle ground. Another meeting would be held in a week before filming would officially start in a few weeks.

It was past eleven when you opened the door of the Castle. No one was in the living room, which was to be expected.

“I’m back!” you shouted, even though no one would hear you if they were in the garden. The night was warm and your skin felt stifling. Sweat dotted your forehead and the change of temperature, when you walked inside the air-conditioned Castle, sent a shock through your system. Your legs had turned to stones and you struggled to take off your shoes.

All you wanted was to fall asleep. You opened the balcony door and shouted again that you were back and that you would be in your room. You closed it before you could hear any replies.

In your room, you had to force yourself to change into your pajamas instead of falling face-first onto your bed in your dirty clothes. You didn’t have the energy to take a shower like you usually did at the end of the day. Your appetite had also disappeared. You hadn’t eaten dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were taking off your makeup in the bathroom when there was a knock on your door.

For a moment, you debated not answering but you dismissed the thought instantly.

“Come in,” you called. “I’m in the bathroom.”

You heard the door open and close again. You dragged the cotton pad roughly across your face, you didn’t have the patience to be gentle and it left your skin red. Some days it was just too sensitive.

“Are you alright?” The care in Seokjin’s voice tugged at the tight knot in your chest, loosened it. You glanced at the door but he wasn’t there.

Most of the makeup was gone from your face and you looked like a mess. You threw the cotton pads in the bin and washed your face quickly to get rid of the mascara under your eyes and any stubborn residues of makeup.

Seokjin was standing by your vanity, waiting for you. It wasn’t often that he came to your room. You weren’t used to seeing him there but it felt right.

“For someone who has been running around for more than sixteen hours, I am peachy,” you tried to joke but the delivery was lacking. It was confirmed by Seokjin’s frown.

“That’s too much, even for you. That isn’t healthy.”

“It is what it is,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “It isn’t something I haven’t done before. And tomorrow’s schedule is easier so it’s alright.”

That didn’t seem to do anything to ease his mind. “Because you did it before, it doesn’t mean you should keep doing that.”

You rubbed your temples, your headache was getting worse. “There are things that need to get done. I can’t just stop because I’m tired. I get calls all day and my inbox is full of emails I haven’t answered yet. I have a million things on my plate, I can’t ignore them.”

“I know,” Seokjin said, his tone softer. He came closer to you and took your hand in his. The touch was grounding. You hadn’t realized you were spiraling until your feet were planted on the earth again. “We know how important your work is and how much effort you have put in to be where we are. It’s admirable and it’s incredible that you’ve managed to do all this. But your health is important too. You can’t keep running with an empty tank. You need to rest too.”

You heaved a sigh and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. Your nose wasn’t as sensitive as a hybrid’s but breathing in the familiar sweetness calmed you. He hugged you and drew you closer to him, his hand kneading the tense muscles of your shoulders and the back of your neck.

“We missed you,” he said almost in a whisper.

“You always miss me.”

Seokjin stayed quiet but you both knew. They always missed you because you were always gone.

“You should eat something before you fall asleep. Yoongi and I made gnocchi with prosciutto and parmesan and garlic bread with mozzarella. I can bring it here but I think it would be best if you ate in the kitchen. Everyone wants to see you but they don’t want to bother you.”

The simple act of going to the kitchen sounded like climbing a mountain. Your bed looked too attractive, only a meter away and very very soft. Your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep and yet…

“I’ll come to the kitchen,” you said. Having woken up at five, you hadn’t seen anyone before leaving. The thought of not seeing them at all today left a sour taste in your mouth. “But can we stay here? For a bit?”

Seokjin placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Of course. For as long as you want.”

You lost track of time in his arms but no more than five minutes must have passed by the time you pulled back with a heavy heart. A temporary balm had been applied to the ailments of the day. You could hold yourself up for a few more minutes to eat a little, you had been doing it all day.

Your legs were as heavy as concrete walking to the kitchen. You had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, otherwise, you might just collapse. There was noise coming from the kitchen but your tired mind couldn’t register what they were saying.

You were surprised to see that everyone was there waiting for you, even Taehyung. Yoongi placed the plates in front of your seat and Jimin added the cutlery. Everyone else was sitting around the table in their usual stools.

Their greetings were quieter than usual and you guessed that they were conscious of how tired you were. You gave them the warmest smile you could master and patted Hoseok’s hair as you passed by to take your seat. The aroma of the food made your stomach growl, you hadn’t realized how hungry you had been before. Your appetite was back. Everything looked incredible as always and you couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Are you all just going to look at me while I eat?” you asked, picking up your fork.

The hybrids looked sheepish at your question.

“We just wanted to see you,” Jungkook said. “You left too early in the morning.”

You had to compose yourself to pierce a couple of gnocchi with your fork and not sigh out loud. Yoongi’s eyes were heavy on you, they were the ones you could detect with the most ease. You were the most aware of him.

“I had too much to do today. They have been bugging me from the studios for days. If I didn’t start early, I would have never finished. And I prefer an early morning to a late night. I tend to work better in the morning.”

You forced the fork to your mouth. You were ravenous but the conversation stalled your appetite.

“I would think that this was considered a late night,” Namjoon pointed out.

The taste, as expected, was heavenly. The creaminess of the parmesan sauce was tied perfectly with the savory crispy prosciutto. In your condition, you felt like it was wasted on you. As hungry as you were, you just wanted to put your fork down and go to sleep. But you couldn’t do that. You were better than that, you could eat something and then you could go to sleep. You could do that, you had done this before. Hadn’t you?

“This isn’t a late night,” you said after you swallowed the delicious bite. You had to eat another one. And another one. “Late nights can be anything from three a.m. to the next morning. This doesn’t happen often but I really had too many things to do. This is just for a few weeks because we’re moving very fast with the Raven Boys and filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts will start soon. There are a lot of meetings and things they need my opinion on, it will actually be better once filming starts. They don’t need me as much then.”

You pushed the gnocchi around and you could tell they didn’t believe you without looking at them. It was true that your workload was heavier these days but you couldn’t exactly guarantee that it would get better soon. Filming for the Raven Cycle had been going exceptionally well and it was moving faster than you had originally planned. It would be wrapping up by the end of September or by early October at the latest. Wrapping up was a lot of work, the beginning and the end were the busiest parts.

The rest of autumn was going to be very difficult too. There was the premier as well, which added to your workload greatly. It would take up all of November and the work for it would start from October. Maybe December would be calmer. Maybe.

You ate the rest of your meal in relative silence. They didn’t talk more about you leaving early and coming back late although you knew they wanted to. Their voices were quiet as they talked about anything from witches in cartoons to color theory. You let their words play in the background like the sound from a TV as you tried to eat as much as you could.

The result was a half-finished plate of gnocchi and one less garlic bread with mozzarella. Your eyes were closing involuntarily by then, staying closed for longer periods each time. If you didn’t go to sleep now, you would fall face-first into the gnocchi.

You slid off your seat and balanced yourself on numb legs. “Thank you for this, it was delicious. But I really need to go to sleep now.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, glancing at half of the food still on the plate. “You should rest.”

“At what time do you start work tomorrow?” Yoongi asked. He had been silent during your dinner and his voice rang louder than the rest to your ears.

It must have taken a few seconds to navigate the fog in your mind before you could answer. “Filming starts around nine, so I should be there by eight. Half past eight at most.”

“That’s still too early,” Hoseok said, frowning.

You waved their worries off. They had better things to worry about than the job you had been doing for half of your life. “It isn’t too early. I can sleep for a decent number of hours before I have to get ready. It’s alright, really. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams.”

With effort, you dragged your body to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning on the lights and stumbled to your bed guided only by the moonlight. There wasn’t a point in closing the blinds when you would wake up around the time the sun was rising. The light of your phone was too bright in the darkness and it made your eyes sting as you set an alarm.

A few messages caught your attention but a knock stopped you before you could open them.

“Come in,” you called, setting your phone aside. The door opened and the light from the hallway slipped in, outlining the silhouettes of the two hybrids. “Is everything okay?”

They both nodded and Jimin took a few steps into the room. “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Both of you?” you asked, half-suppressing a yawn. Unlike Jimin, Jungkook hadn’t slept in your room before and the only time you had shared a bed was in Virginia.

Jungkook’s bunny ears drooped. “I can go, I don’t mind. I just missed you.”

“Sorry, that isn’t how I meant it.” Your surroundings were a bit blurry, the minutes stretched but were also impossibly short. It felt a little like life was a dream when you were tired like this. “Come in, both of you. And close the door behind you. It is blinding me a bit.”

They hurried inside and did as you told them. You couldn’t see them well as they moved through the darkness. They surrounded you, lying on different sides. Jimin didn’t hesitate to draw closer, throwing an arm over your stomach. Jungkook was a little stiffer on your left like he didn’t know how to situate himself. You found his hand, intertwining your fingers, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

It felt right, lying between them. Like that was how it was meant to be. But maybe that was the exhaustion talking, the dream realm slipping into the waking world.

“I missed you too,” you whispered. “Now sleep. I have an alarm set for the morning.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Summer bled seamlessly into autumn. The change wasn’t apparent in the Castle, autumn had only arrived in name. The heat was still there and would remain for some time. During the days, it still made sweat drip down your temples the few times you filmed outside the studios but the nights were comfortable and moon-bright.

You had a couple of hours free between takes and nothing to do so you got into your car (John had taken the day off to spend some time with Alice) and started the engine. “Nothing to do” was a relative term of course. There were many things you could be doing, countless extra little tasks that crowded your thoughts, but you disregarded all of them. You had been spending whole days away from home and you were beginning to feel guilty about it.

On your way back, you stopped by your favorite homemade gelato shop. In San Diego, you had gone for gelato the first day and the hybrids had loved it. You had made it a habit to get gelato at the beginning of each day during ComicCon, it was your little ritual. You had ordered gelato a couple of times to the Castle as well but with eight people, it didn’t last more than a day.

There were dozens of flavors behind the display case, all of them looking delectable. You got a wide variety, remembering the flavors they liked the most. You picked hazelnut, tiramisu, chocolate chip cookie, almond, caramel, coconut, cream and sour cherry, nutella, and vanilla and asked for 1 kilo of each to be delivered to your house. It was too hot and your house was too far to transport them in your car.

You didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes outside the gate before the delivery boy arrived. You got the bags full of gelato containers from him and sent him off with a hefty tip. The Castle was a long way from the heart of the city and anyone willing to make deliveries there deserved a nice tip.

Unlocking and opening the door was a struggle but you managed. You shouted you were back and fast-walked down the stairs, the plastic bags digging into your hands. On the second level, you were faced with Jungkook, who was also climbing the stairs to reach you. He looked as if he was ready to attack you with a hug before noticing the bags.

“A little help?” you asked, raising the bags a little higher. Your arms protested loudly.

Jungkook quickly took most of the bags from you and if you hadn’t been the one carrying them before, you would have believed they were light as a feather with the way he was holding them. “What are all these?” he asked, peeking into the bags. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened in realization when he spotted the containers. “Is that–?”

“Gelato,” you said, a little proud of yourself for thinking of making the stop on your way back.

Jungkook’s steps turned into little hops. “You are the best! How much did you get? Are these all different flavors?”

“You will see…”

Jungkook made a sound close to a petulant whine. “Come on,” he said, dragging the vowels. “What are they? Did you get hazelnut?”

“We’re almost there. You’ll see in a minute.” The garden was coming into view as you climbed down to the last level but Jungkook still turned back to pout at you. “Dramatic bunny,” you muttered lowly but not low enough for his enhanced hearing not to pick it up. You didn’t mind, his giggles were cute.

At the bottom of the stairs, Namjoon and Seokjin were waiting for you.

Seokjin squeezed your wrist in greeting before saying, “He is a very dramatic bunny.”

“Hey! You should be on my side!”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?” And that set off a round of bickering as they walked to the table to set down the bags.

Despite your protests, Namjoon took the last bags from you. “You should accept a little help from time to time,” he said firmly. You knew that he meant it for more than this. You decided to ignore it for now, you would overthink this later.

“Everyone, gather around! I brought gelato!” you called.

In a few minutes, everyone was gathered around the table. Hoseok, upon seeing the many containers of gelato, had done a happy dance, kissed your cheek and ran upstairs with Seokjin to get bowls and spoons. Jimin had wrapped himself around your back and was licking his lips, which was highly distracting. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.

Taehyung was the quietest one, as he usually was. He was sitting next to Yoongi, looking at all the containers with parted lips.

“I got gelato for us,” you told him. “It is really good. I got a lot of flavors so you can try as many as you want.”

“Gelato,” Taehyung repeated softly, gazing at the containers spread over the table.

Hoseok and Seokjin arrived with eight bowls, too many spoons and three ice cream scoops—you didn’t even know you had that many—and set them down around the table. You busied yourself with opening all the containers. You already knew which flavors you wanted so you grabbed one of the scoops and served yourself three scoops of ice cream.

Jimin had hooked his chin over your shoulder and wasn’t making any move to serve himself. That was up to you then.

“Which flavor do you want?” you asked him, dipping the scoop into the cup of water.

He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder lazily. “Hmmm, I think I want to try a few before I decide.”

You decided to indulge him, you liked it when he got playful and joked with you. You preferred when he was confident and asked for what he wanted. It was beautiful to witness how much he had changed through the months. You dipped a spoon into the flavors in your bowl first and brought them to his mouth. He savored each spoonful, humming and licking his full lips. He was so close to you, if you turned completely your noses would touch. How did you always end up in these situations lately?

“I want that too,” Jungkook said, pouting and pointing at your spoon. He was sitting at the bench and he had his own bowl in front of him, filled with four scoops of gelato.

“You want almond?” you asked.

“No, I want to be fed too.”

“You really are a baby,” Seokjin said. “Is that what’s going to be happening now? Whatever one has the other wants too?”

Jungkook looked away, taking his spoon again disappointed. “No, it just looked nice. It felt nice to be cared for when we were at the lake. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask.”

At the lake, you had been feeding them strawberries dipped in chocolate and your mind had run too wild. You should stop thinking about that. “I want to, you are just a little far. I can’t really reach.”

Jimin was about to say something, probably offer a solution but before he could, Seokjin had picked up Jungkook and plopped him down in his lap.

“Here, I will feed you, you big baby. Is this alright?” he asked, ever caring.

Jungkook squirmed a little but seemed pleased, a light flush settling on his cheeks. “Yes, of course.” He was as tall as Seokjin but in his lap, he looked much smaller. He opened his mouth obediently when Seokjin brought the spoon to his lips.

Your eyes strayed to Taehyung, you were hyper-aware of him whenever you were in the same place. His eyes had that look that you couldn’t understand, it was there every time you interacted with the other hybrids lately. They were telling you that he was opening up more these days but to you, he remained a mystery.

In the end, Jimin ate most of your gelato and you scooped some chocolate chip cookie into your bowl because you knew how much he liked it. Hoseok and Namjoon closed the containers and carried them upstairs, they returned and went to sit by the pool. Yoongi finished quickly and lied down under the shade of the tree closest to them. Jungkook grew sleepy and turned to the side, laying his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin joined them, hugging Jungkook from the side.

Taehyung stayed at the bench like he wasn’t sure where he should go, his empty bowl in front of him.

“Did you like it?” you asked, gesturing to his bowl. Another reminder of your shortcomings, you didn’t even know how much he had progressed in English.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. The low timbre of his voice surprised you each time. You heard it so rarely that you didn’t get the chance to get used to it.

You should make an effort to talk to him, avoiding him would only make matters worse. But you couldn’t find anything to say. What exactly could you say to him, who had lived most of his life like a caged animal, who you had bought at an illegal auction?

Suddenly, you had the equivalent of a light bulb lighting up next to your head in a cartoon.

“Hobi told me you liked the painting of the pomegranate in the gallery,” you said then realized that pomegranate was probably a word he couldn’t understand and proceeded to explain the painting. “It has glass around it and a hand is holding it. Am I making sense?”

Seokjin looked at you amused but Taehyung nodded in understanding. “It is beautiful.”

“Right, it is,” you agreed. “The artist, the one who made it, is holding an exhibition in LA. We could go if you would like.”

You had bought the painting from her long before her fame had grown and spread. There was a magic to the way Eliana Velasco painted, everything came alive under her brush strokes. The painting of the pomegranate had enchanted you and given your history, you had to have it.

“Go?” he repeated, clearly confused.

“Yeah, to a place that has many of her paintings. You can see them there. Would you like that?” Talking to him, you were more nervous than at any of the award shows you had attended the past few years, more nervous than during any contract negotiations.

Taehyung’s eyes widened a fraction before he nodded. “Can I… see them?”

“Of course,” you said.

Jungkook stirred against Seokjin’s shoulder. “Are we going to an exhibition?”

“If you want to.”

“Are you going to be there too?” he asked and that was harder to answer. Your schedule was the busiest it had been in months and you were drowning in deadlines and responsibilities. You were saved from answering him by a notification on your phone. The numbers displaying the time showed that you were late to leave. You pocketed your phone and with quick goodbyes, you disappeared.

You were so stupid. You had offered to take Taehyung to an exhibition when work was wrapped around you like a noose. But you had panicked. Eliana had sent you an invitation for the opening night, promising there would be French champagne and hors d’ oeuvres. You had attended plenty of her exhibitions and had many conversations about art and life and their inter-connected philosophy while drinking champagne or wine and staring at paintings.

Although Taehyung’s situation was solved and Amelia had let you know some time ago that legally you were safe, going to the opening night didn’t sound like a good idea. There would be many journalists there who would love to write a piece about you and your sudden decision to adopt so many hybrids. They could go without you another day, that wouldn’t be too bad. Taehyung looked so hopeful and now that you had said it, you couldn’t take it back. You could text Eliana and ask her if she could meet you there one day so you could introduce her to them.

You should try and get some time off.

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It was like a curse, to not be able to sleep in the very few hours you could afford to. Your bed was empty and cold and you couldn’t get comfortable regardless of how much you twisted and turned. Your limbs were too long and awkward and nothing felt right. All the wild thoughts you couldn’t be bothered with during the day showed up one after the other to be examined from every angle and set aside to pick up the next one. It was a losing battle and yet you insisted on fighting it every time before giving in, getting up and popping a pill into your mouth.

You returned the bottle to the cabinet and closed it. After Seoul, for some time it had returned to your bedside table but after a couple of weeks had passed it felt like you were admitting defeat by keeping it there. The image in the mirror was a far cry from the celebrity you were supposed to be. The darkness under your eyes formed bruises, getting worse by the day. Your skin had grown pale and your hair was a mess, you hadn’t had enough strength to braid it before attempting to fall asleep.

You considered going back to bed but the pills could take up to an hour to work when your insomnia reached its peak and you were craving a snack. Something small and sweet sounded nice.

Once again, you had returned late and eaten dinner alone. Your appetite was lacking although the food was delicious. Sometimes, it got like that when you were too tired. You had promised yourself to limit early mornings and late nights but that had changed when you had texted Eliana about the exhibition. She had offered to accompany you to the exhibition on one of the days it was closed to the public and you were more than thankful to her but that also meant that you would have to take half the day off.

The TV was on in the living room, subtitles displayed at the bottom of the screen with no sound. Namjoon was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and watching with distracted eyes. Everyone else had departed to their rooms for the night. His ears twitched as you took a few more steps and he turned to look at you.

You waved your hand, trying to offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He sat up straighter. “Hi. Why are you still awake? Do you need something?”

“Just some water. Maybe a snack.”

“You were really tired when you went to bed. Did you not fall asleep?” he asked, frowning.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t. It’s one of those nights. If I eat something, maybe I will fall asleep easier. A full stomach and all that.” You didn’t mention the pill, it was awkward to do that. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll just grab something and go back to bed.”

Namjoon got up and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you. He caressed your cheek, searching for something in your eyes. You weren’t sure what he could see there. “I’ll join you. Let’s sit together for a bit. I haven’t seen you properly in a few days.”

“But you must have stayed back to watch that,” you said. A documentary was playing on the TV, something about Egyptian history.

“It doesn’t matter. I would rather spend my time with you. Unless you don’t want to, then I’ll go back to the couch and be very quiet.”

You slid your hand in his, the touch grounding you in a night that felt both like you were wide awake and caught in a blurry dream. “I would like some company. I’ve missed you too. I’m–”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. There is no need for that.”

He leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered for a few moments, warmth spreading inside you. You raised your head and captured his lips in a kiss. The worst part was that you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had last shared a kiss. His lips were velvet as you remembered them. This was home. Running back and forth, you had forgotten what it felt like.

You pulled back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

In the kitchen, Namjoon stood next to you as you rummaged through the cupboards for something that looked appetizing to you. The cupboards were full and yet nothing was calling to you until Namjoon remembered that Seokjin had made ice cream sandwiches with the gelato you had bought and various kinds of cookies. That sounded like heaven so you opened the freezer and chose two of them.

You leaned against the counter, shoulder to shoulder with Namjoon, while you devoured them. Gelato might not have been the best idea to put you to sleep but they tasted heavenly. The pill would start working sooner or later.

“Is it worse today?” he asked. He didn’t elaborate further, he didn’t have to.

The ice cream sandwiches were gone and you were left holding the plate. You licked your fingers and placed it in the sink. “I have a lot of things on my mind. I should be too tired to think but apparently, I’m never too tired for that.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Everything, more or less.” You turned to the side, facing him. “There’s too much to think about and not enough time. Never enough time,” you muttered the last sentence to yourself. If you had all the time in the world it would still not be enough, you would find a way to fill it. “I’ve been putting everything off. Everything I don’t want to deal with or I don’t know how to deal with. And the longer I put it off, the worse it gets.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what you said and pondering how to reply. It was beautiful, how his mind worked and how attentive he was. “If there is any way we can help you, anything I–we can do, we will. Whatever you want to do, we will support you. Sometimes, in our head, we can make things look bigger, more scary than they are. Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you talk about what you have to do or what you’re worried about, it will be easier to work out the best way to approach them.”

That was something your therapist used to tell you, that while things festered in your head, they would only get more tangled and more daunting. She had suggested writing them down or talking to her about them. She was right, you knew she was right and that it helped and yet you hadn’t stopped to do that.

You took a deep breath, debating if it would be better to find a notebook and figure out your mess on paper instead of dragging Namjoon into it. But there was a part of you that itched to confide in him and give in to the way you felt safe when you were together.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed.

You started slowly, with your usual worries about Taehyung, how he was adjusting and how little time you were spending with him and if that was for the best. It was the same old spiralling, you had poked and prodded at it so many times and Namjoon must have been bored of listening to the same rehashed concerns, yet he didn’t interrupt you. You unravelled steadily, once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. There was the filming for the Raven Cycle, the final touches of Six of Crows, the premiere and the weeks of promotions and the anticipation for the reviews of the critics and the audiences. The book you hadn’t finished and the deadline you couldn’t meet.

You rubbed your hands over your face. It had been so long since most of those problems had surfaced and you were ashamed that you hadn’t faced them yet. “And we haven’t told anyone about us. We said we would and I know you’re waiting for me but I’m never here. And I don’t know how.”

Namjoon caught your hand and brought it to his lips. Lowering it, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. They will understand and they will be happy for us. You shouldn’t let this keep you awake, everything will be alright. They are our pack, this won’t change anything.”

“But…” The anxiety that persisted. “Yoongi. What if his reaction is… bad. You know what he said.”

“That was before.” He sounded sure but there was a tightness at his jaw. “It is different now. He is different, you can see it. He is softer around the edges, he even helps Jin in the kitchen. He’s settling in.”

“Because he doesn’t know,” you said. “You remember what he said, right? That night? That I adopted you so I could take my pick and now there is Jin and it’s just too much like that, can’t you see it?”

“It’s nothing like that. We both–” Namjoon stiffened, his gaze locking somewhere towards the entrance. “Yoongi?”

Your heart rate sped up, a knot forming in your chest. Yoongi walked in, his socked feet not making a sound. How much had he heard? The last minutes of the conversation replayed in your mind in a panicked mess. What had you said? How long had he been there, listening to you, before Namjoon noticed him? What conclusions would he reach?

Instinctively, you tried to get away from Namjoon but his hold on your hand kept you there.

The panther’s face didn’t give anything away. You couldn’t read him regardless of how much you studied him. You didn’t know his tells, if he had any. His expression was a carefully curated mask of apathy and you couldn’t see past it. Or you didn’t dare to try. Maybe you were too afraid of what you would find.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, voice missing some of its smoothness.

Namjoon held your hand tighter. “You are the only one who can sneak up on me.”

You swallowed down your anxiety and tried to think of him the way he was the past few months, when he helped you with rearranging your office, him playing the piano in the afternoons, your walk at the lake, the vague memory of him helping you up to your room when you were drunk in Virginia. But they were all pushed back by the memory of his snarl and his sharp teeth that night.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, forcing your voice to be steady. He was going to learn of it at some point and as scared as you were, you had to face this.

“Enough.” His tail curled behind him and stilled. “You are afraid of my reaction to something. Is that it?”

Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s and he nodded. This time you weren’t going to run. This time would be different. “Yes, there is something we wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell everyone. I didn’t know how to tell you, that’s all.”

“You can tell me now,” he said and it sounded almost like a dare. You weren’t sure if you were walking into a trap.

Namjoon spoke up before you could. “You remember that the two of us are… We are together, as humans would say, romantically.” Yoongi nodded. You couldn’t imagine how he could forget. “That extends to Jin now. We love him and he loves us.” It was almost like he was challenging him to say anything but Yoongi was quiet.

“We didn’t know how to tell everyone. And you…” You didn’t know how to finish.

He scoffed. “I was an asshole.” One side of his lips was twisted up but something about it hurt. “You didn’t want to tell me because I was an asshole when I found out about you two. Worse than an asshole.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. For a moment, you wished to reassure him but what he was saying was the truth. “I understand. I’m not– I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry.”

He turned to leave but, through your confusion, you knew you didn’t want him to go.

“Wait,” you called. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Let’s talk. We need to talk.”

Yoongi looked at you over his shoulder. This time, you studied him without your heavy-duty lenses, without the fear of discovery. Like the expression of an actor, you picked apart the tiniest details to paint a picture. When your own barriers were gone, it was easier to see.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked.

“A lot. Things we should have talked about sooner.” Communication was a golden rule in your handbook and you used to be good at it, you tried to be good at it. The misunderstanding trope was overused and useless when the issue could be resolved with a simple conversation.

It was about time you stopped walking on eggshells.

“We never truly talked about it,” you started. “And I didn’t really want to because things were going so well. They are going well. But you are my family now.” His lips parted, only slightly but you caught it. “I can’t know how all of you see it, if it’s the same for you, but that’s the way I feel. And I want to be honest with you. I still think about what you said in the garden and sometimes it affects me more than I would like. However, I would like to put it behind us but I want to know what you think.”

His eyes were sharp but you weren’t fooled this time. “Can we? Can we really put it behind us?”

Namjoon was silent next to you, he was letting you handle it.

“I think we are already beginning to.” You took a deep breath in preparation. There was a question that could make or break this peace between you and you were both dreading and dying to ask. “Do you think that I’m taking advantage of them because I love them romantically?”

His eyes widened. “No,” he denied sharply. “No, of course I don’t.”

It was like a knot unravelling in your heart. Although there was a part of you that had known, the relief was still there. “Then we can move past it. We can try again. We are already trying again.”

“How?” Yoongi asked and he sounded smaller, much smaller than you were used to.

The pills were beginning to act, it was a light drowsiness at first. You had to do this quickly before you fell asleep and crumbled down on the floor.

“The same way we are doing now. By doing our best.”

“I am trying” His hands clenched into fists and loosened again. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You don’t need to be. Not anymore. As long as I know that we are fine.” Your eyes were growing heavier and the fog was slipping in. “I think we should go to bed now,” you said. It was getting more and more difficult to open your eyes.

You must have stumbled or something because you heard Yoongi ask, “Are you alright?” at the same time as Namjoon’s “Do you want help?”

You waved them both off. “I’m fine. It’s the pills.” It was easier to admit when you were almost asleep. One moment your feet were on the floor and the next you were up in the air. “Joon?”

“I’m taking you to your room. It’s time for sleep.” One of his arms was under your knees and the other was holding you close to his body.

“Namjoon, I can walk,” you protested weakly. Namjoon shushed you and you let it go. You were so incredibly sleepy and you were safe there. You relaxed in his arms and finally closed your eyes.

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Most of the flowers were drooping in the garden of the Castle. Namjoon and Jimin were attempting to keep them alive for as long as possible before fall swept them away. They cut off the dead leaves, watered the plants and applied the appropriate fertilisers. There were also varieties that lasted all year and the gardener had taught them how to take care of them too.

“These won’t last much longer,” Jimin said, running his fingers gently over the petals of a slowly wilting flower.

“They will bloom again in spring,” Namjoon reassured him. “Each season has its beauty and these belong to spring and summer. Autumn has its own colors too but they are different.”

Jimin pulled his hand back and grabbed the watering can. “I know, but I will miss them.”

Namjoon patted his head and Jimin preened under his touch, chasing his hand. He was too cute sometimes and Namjoon adored him. “It’s okay to miss it but you can also be happy about the new things that are coming. Miss Roberts said she will bring sunflowers and hydrangeas to plant next week, it will add some color. When something ends, something else begins.”

Jimin giggled, watering the flowers although they would be dead next week. “Nora has told you many times to call her by her name.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. “I forgot. I’m trying.”

Yoongi came out of the house, a book in his hand. He had been visiting the library more lately. Namjoon had been wondering where he had been. The rest of the pack had holed up in the cinema room to watch a comedy and, like the two of them, Yoongi had opted out but they hadn’t seen him since.

“Yoongi!” Jimin called, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the watering can. “Come here. Sit with us, we are almost done.”

Yoongi paused, glancing at the table and benches on the other side of the garden.

“Come on,” Namjoon called for him as well. That was enough to sway Yoongi’s decision, who made his way to them.

Jimin bounced up to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the flower bushes they were tending to. Yoongi grumbled about the rough treatment but Namjoon wasn’t fooled, the upturn of his lips was small but unmistakable.

Jimin explained to him what they had been doing so far and Yoongi listened to him attentively.

“They are beautiful. You have been doing a really good job. Both of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Namjoon.

He was tense, it wasn’t obvious but Namjoon could pick it up. He gave him a smile, hoping he would relax. Yoongi confused him but he thought he could understand him a little better now. “Thank you. What are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Yoongi raised the book a little and shrugged. “I saw it and I thought it was interesting.”

“I haven’t seen that before,” Namjoon said.

The cover was painted in shades of yellow and orange, framing two pyramids. Without saying anything, Yoongi handed him the book. It was called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it was a relatively short book. He turned it around to look at the synopsis and Jimin peeked at it over his shoulder. Namjoon wondered if you had read it or if it had been sitting there unread on your shelves for years. There were so many books in your library and you had admitted that you hadn’t read most of them, but you had also told them that once upon a time you used to read a hundred books a year.

“It does sound interesting,” Namjoon commented, passing back the book. “You should tell me if it is any good when you finish it.”

Yoongi looked down at the book’s cover. “I will.”

Jimin declared that they were done with gardening for the day and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to the shade underneath one of the trees. They sat down and he situated himself with his head in Namjoon’s lap and his legs in Yoongi’s. Yoongi cracked open his book and began to read while Jimin talked about flowers.

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“And… CUT!” you called. It was repeated again by Will and the actors relaxed, the expressions of their characters wiped clean. “That will be it for today. Thank you everyone!”

The crew buzzed as the cameras and the sound systems were turned off. People were talking to their earpieces and others were giving pats on the back to each other for another successful day on set. Crew members passed by and offered their congratulations to you.

“What are you rushing for?” Will asked.

You continued throwing everything carelessly into your backpack. “I’m visiting the gallery today, remember?”

“Right, that’s today,” he said, snapping his fingers. Some things stuck with you in entertainment. For example, the overexaggerated gestures. “I thought you had a company meeting dressed like this. A very important one.”

In the morning, you had put more thought into your outfit compared to a simple filming day. You were wearing tan trousers and a form-fitting black top embellished by a crossover belt that wrapped around the body and was tied together with a golden Medusa head emblem. The heels, the golden earrings, bracelets, and rings confirmed that filming wasn’t the only thing on your schedule.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder (you would switch it later with a black Dior bag you had in your car). “No meetings for me today. I really have to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Have a good time, boss!”

You greeted any familiar faces on your way to your car and sent a quick message to Namjoon that you would be picking them up soon. The 8-seater car was an impulse purchase at a time when you had a larger friend group. You hadn’t used it much, only for a couple of short trips to private beaches.

You checked your appearance in the visor mirror and reapplied some powder and lipstick. You looked good enough, there wasn’t much more you could do.

The hybrids were waiting by the fountain. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing some of the more formal outfits you had bought for them. You could feel the excitement in the air as they climbed into the car. It had been a long time since you had gone to the city like this. Jimin was quick to slide into the passenger seat, followed by a little happy dance at his success.

The exhibition was taking place in Central Los Angeles, housed in a tall and wide building that appeared to be made up of several cubes that jutted out of the main structure. Jungkook and Hoseok had their phones out, taking photos of the strange building. Distantly, you remembered coming here before but you couldn’t place when or why.

Eliana was waiting for you inside wearing a simple flowing blue dress and a large smile. You greeted each other with a hug and proceeded to introduce the boys to her. She shook their hands enthusiastically and in a few seconds she had already engaged them in a conversation about art. Usually, she talked quickly like she was rushing to get everything out before she forgot but she was talking slowly now, using simpler words and waiting for Hoseok to translate whenever he deemed he should.

She guided you through the gallery, floating ahead of you. She gave explanations of some of her works while she let others speak for themselves. Taehyung’s eyes were sparkling while she talked, in a way you had never seen before. His smile stayed on during your whole visit, big and boxy, and you finally felt like you were doing something right.

The other hybrids seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. Namjoon was asking plenty of questions about the meaning behind the paintings and her inspiration and Jungkook was very interested in the more technical aspect of her work. She readily answered all of their questions and when you pointed out that Jungkook spent a lot of his time painting, she encouraged him to show her some of his work. Although he was shy, hiding behind his floppy ears at first, Eliana managed to convince him to show her a few of the paintings he had on his phone. She was stunned when you told her he had only been painting for a few months and Jungkook grew even shier when she showered him in compliments.

At the end of the tour, she let you wander the gallery by yourselves for some time and then suggested going to the gallery’s gardens to hang out. The gardens were of considerable size, about as large as the inside of the gallery. Neatly trimmed flower bushes lined the pathways and plenty of modern sculptures decorated the space. A large fountain stood proudly in the middle and there was an artfully made gazebo raised on a platform at a far corner, overlooking the gardens.

You offered to go get some coffee and some baked goods from a nearby bakery/coffee shop you had found on the internet. Eliana protested at first but she gave in quickly at the promise of an iced Spanish latte and muffins. Namjoon volunteered to accompany you, although what surprised you was Yoongi offering to come along.

“You need more than two people to carry everything,” was the only explanation you got. You couldn’t deny that he was right.

He hadn’t been acting any different towards you since you had let him know about the nature of your relationship with Seokjin, so you acted the same way you always did too. His quiet acceptance was more than enough for you and it was a great weight off your shoulders.

You were talking about the exhibition, not surprised that Yoongi had been paying close attention to the paintings as he recalled his favorites, when a call of your name surprised you. The voice was familiar and, for a few seconds, you couldn’t place it. Until you could. And the peace froze over.

You turned around to find Jacob waving at you in the quiet street. His hair was cut much shorter than the last time you had seen him and his white loose pants and half-unbuttoned shirt made him look like he had just stepped off a yacht party. Maybe he had. His thousand-watt smile, reminiscent of a politician, was fixed firmly on his face.

“Hey, I knew it was you,” he said when he caught up with you, like he had won a prize. He pulled you into a quick hug and you didn’t know what to do with your hands until he let you go. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

You wiped invisible dust from your trousers. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy.”

“You were never one for rest, right? The woman always running, always working, never has time for anything else,” he joked and it shouldn’t bother you the way it did. He gestured to Yoongi and Namjoon, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Namjoon looked politely curious and Yoongi downright uninterested.

“Right,” you said. “This is Yoongi and Namjoon. And this is Jacob.”

Their eyes sharpened the moment you uttered the name.

“I’m just Jacob now?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “After three years? Not even a friend?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t like we’ve spoken since last year.”

Initially after your breakup, you used to imagine how your next meeting would go and how the two of you would act around each other. Three years was a long time to share your life with someone to then go back to being strangers. You hadn’t entertained the idea much since then, you had found yourself thinking about him less and less. Still, whenever you thought about meeting him, you hadn’t anticipated the bitterness that grazed your insides.

Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you said you were busy. I have been busy as well, I’m working with a few very big names, you know. I got my hands on some of the best songs of the year.”

“I’m sure they’re great.”

“Haven’t you listened to any of them? You must have heard a few of them. They were everywhere.” Jacob was talented enough and well-connected and he sure liked to brag about it. “I asked Zayn and he said you were doing well, working of course. And you got yourself some company too.”

You clenched your jaw to bite back the harshness burning on the tip of your tongue. You hated the way he said it and the way it reminded you of your mother.

“It was a bit of a surprise, I’ll admit. I don’t remember you ever talking about adopting, you didn’t seem a big fan of the idea. No offense of course,” he directed the last part to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Things change,” you said dismissively. “We have to go. There are people waiting for us.”

Jacob’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes narrowed a fraction for only a second. He may only be part of your past but you could still read him well. Was it the same for him? Had he ever been able to read you in the first place?

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.”

You turned around and started walking, Namjoon and Yoongi following you. Last year you loved him enough to move in with him and this year you couldn’t stand to be in his presence. You thought you would feel nothing when you’d see him again but the truth was that everything about him irritated you. His poised smile, his bragging, his nonchalance.

Why was he able to get under your skin like this? You were over him, you didn’t want anything to do with him. But you were supposed to be civil, uninterested like the heroines who didn’t raise more than an eyebrow in the direction of their exes. It irked you and the way he looked at Namjoon and Yoongi irked you more. You had defended him to everyone, he wasn’t a bad guy, he didn’t treat you badly but as time passed you were starting to realize some things you couldn’t see clearly before.

Yoongi was the first one to speak up when you had almost reached the coffee shop, “What an asshole.”

“He isn’t–” You stopped yourself and laughed. “You know what? He is, a little bit.”

“A little bit?” he repeated, doubtfully.

“I don’t want to judge but…” The way Namjoon paused told you everything you needed to know. “I had to try very hard to stop myself from growling at him.”

Yoongi smirked. “Down, wolf.” Namjoon ignored him.

“Thank you for not doing that, that wouldn’t have ended well. Please, don’t growl at people.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.”

Well, you couldn’t say that you minded that much. You could admit to yourself that Namjoon growling was kind of hot. And if the situation called for it…

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Namjoon said. “It was weird. There was something about it that was wrong, almost demeaning.”

“He can be like that sometimes. Like he is above almost everyone else, like some things are beneath him. He would make those stupid comments and I would always try to ignore them,” He was always supportive of your career and proud of your success but he had never shown interest in any of your other hobbies and likes. Reading was boring, paintings were overrated and overpriced, drinking tea was pretentious. “I never thought I would be one of those shit-talking their exes unless they did something really bad.”

“I support this shit-talking,” Namjoon said.

“I do too,” Yoongi agreed.

It made a strangely pleasant feeling run up your spine. “We’re here,” you said, instead of continuing the conversation. According to Google Maps, you had arrived at the coffee shop.

As you walked inside, you might have heard Yoongi saying lowly to Namjoon, “I kind of wanted to punch him.”

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You were sitting on the chair in front of your vanity, braiding your hair and stuck thinking of the same scene. Before going to his room for the night, Taehyung had approached you and thanked you for taking him to the exhibition. His expression was sincere and you finally felt like you were moving in the right direction.

When there was a knock at your door, you already knew who it was before you called for them to come in.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” Jimin asked, Jungkook draped over his back.

“When have I ever told you no?” you asked, finishing your braid and securing it in place with a silky scrunchy. “Go on.”

They both hopped on the bed, bouncing a little and sharing delightful smiles. You watched them through the mirror as they rolled around, holding each other.

Jimin looked up from where he was tangled with Jungkook, holding your gaze through his reflection. “Are you coming?”

“I am, I am,” you said, putting your brush back in the drawer.

You joined them on the bed, their hands quickly reaching for you and situating you between them like the last time. Jimin purred in contentment, rubbing his face in your collarbones. Jungkook held onto your arm and you could feel his breath caressing your neck with how close he was lying.

An unwanted echo of what Jacob had said entered your mind. Always working, never having time for anything else or anyone else, even the ones most important to you. You were gone most of the days and it made sense that they wanted to be close to you at least at night.

“Did you have fun today?” you asked them to distract yourself.

“I loved it! Eliana was so nice and her paintings were incredible,” Jimin said. “I took so many photos, my phone must be full of them.”

Jungkook nuzzled up closer to you. “I took many photos too. Can we print the one we took of us all together? I want to put it in our room.”

“Yes, please,” Jimin added cutely.

“Of course. You should print a couple more too, if you want, and choose some pretty frames for them. There is a lot of free space in your room.”

They cheered a little. You lied there in comfortable silence but you could detect a nervous energy in the air. It was in the way Jimin was fidgeting with the hem of your silk night shirt and how tightly Jungkook was gripping your arm. You waited until they were ready.

“We actually… we have something to tell you,” Jimin said.

“Anything you want, kitten,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. You could see how the use of the nickname affected him, squirming a little as his smile grew sweeter. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I just–” He looked at Jungkook, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I kissed him, we kissed. And… it makes me very happy.”

Jungkook caught Jimin’s hand that was pulling at your shirt and intertwined their fingers, laying their joint hands on your stomach. “He makes me very happy too,” he said in a small voice.

The new knowledge was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. It felt natural to you that their relationship would progress like that. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other, was evidence of a deeply intimate connection. If the image your mind conjured of them kissing lit a spark in your chest, you hid it even from yourself.

“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you happy, then I am happy too. All I want for you is to be happy and know how loved you are. Come here.” You pulled them closer and placed lingering kisses on their foreheads. “I will always support you. Always.” You took a decision then. You couldn’t put it off any longer. “I have something to tell you too. Jimin already knows but Jungkook, I would like for you to know too. I don’t know how to say this exactly and I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you but I, Namjoon and Jin have been romantically involved. All of us. We have been kissing too.”

“Oh.” Jungkook paused. “That makes sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, Jimin joining you. “I mean you’re very close and it just makes sense. We’re pack and I think that most packs are a little in love with each other, in one way or another,” he said. His cheeks felt hot against your shoulder.

In one way or another. He was right, it was such a special bond and you could imagine that for hybrids who felt the sense of pack deeper, the lines were easily blurred. A door opened in your mind but you closed it again forcefully.

Jimin fit his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I love you so much, all of you. Our pack. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. I don’t know if I deserve this.” His voice was wet.

“You do,” you stated. “You deserve everything and more. And we love you so much. So much.”

Jungkook squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jiminie. Our pack wouldn’t be complete without you. We need you to be whole. We need everyone.”

Their hands remained linked over your abdomen as you fell asleep.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #bts poly #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts hurt/comfort #fluff

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sideprince · 4 months

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Eileen Prince

I'm relentlessly curious about how a witch from Slytherin, a house that values cunning and ambition on paper, and bloodlines/nobility in its culture, ended up living in a muggle slum.

Unfortunately for me, she's a barely mentioned character written by an author who consistently fails to portray female characters with depth or dimension. The women in Harry Potter are portrayed as either maternal or villains, or, in Ginny Weasley's case, as redeemed by their masculine traits (because Rowling's Thatcher era feminism dictates that equality for women = emulating patriarchal ideas of manhood). About as much as you can expect from an author who's as unable to acknowledge the personhood of trans women as she is to write women as actual people. This leaves a lot of room for interpreting or delving into what Eileen Prince's life may have looked like, and how that would have affected her son's development.

There are three direct mentions of Eileen in the text :

“The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was not pretty; she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Underneath the photograph was the caption: Eileen Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.”

HBP Ch. 25

“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she’d given birth to a" “ — murderer,” spat Harry.

HBP ch. 30

“Harry looked around: he was on platform nine and three-quarters, and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him.”

DH Ch. 33

(Shoutout to Harry James Potter, who didn't recognize Eileen's fifth year photo despite her resemblance to Snape, the teacher whose classroom he got his used Potions book from. Shoutout also to Harry James Potter who didn't connect the dots between the Prince's handwriting and Snape's, a teacher who regularly wrote instructions on the board. "I needed to make the plot work, ok?" - JK Rowling, probably.)

Other relevant excerpts:

“Snape staggered - his wand flew upwards, away from Harry - and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner ”

OoTP Ch. 26

“Harry delved into his trunk and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed. There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of the book, the date that it had been published. It was nearly fifty years old.”

HBP Ch. 16

Supplemental material re: Gobstones from JK Rowling:

"...it remains a minority sport within the wizarding world, and does not enjoy a very ‘cool’ reputation, something its devotees tend to resent. Gobstones is most popular among very young wizards and witches, but they generally ‘grow out’ of the game, becoming more interested in Quidditch as they grow older. ... Gobstones enjoys limited popularity at Hogwarts, ranking low among recreational activities, way behind Quidditch and even Wizarding Chess." [There's an additional sentence on the Harry Potter wiki's Gobstones page: "...it is also known as 'the thinking wizard's Quidditch.'"]

A few conclusions can be drawn from what little information we're given about Eileen:

She's described as "cross and sullen" around the age of 15, and as "sallow-faced, sour-looking" when she's older.

She's captain of the Gobstones club around her fifth year, so she likely marched to the beat of her own drum - given that Gobstones isn't particularly popular - and owns it proudly enough to take, or even seek out, a leadership role.

The sport is described as "the thinking wizard's Quidditch" which would imply Eileen was more interested in intellectual challenges and was clever (and can be paralleled with a young Severus' comment about "if you'd rather be brawny than brainy" to James Potter when they first meet on the Hogwarts Express).

Her marriage and the birth of her son are both announced in the paper, which might mean the family she came from was of some importance or note, or perhaps something else... but we'll get to that.

If we assume that Severus' secondhand copy of Advanced Potion Making was originally Eileen's (reasonable, though there is no textual evidence) then its publication date is likely around the time she was a sixth year, given that this particular text was specific to students beginning to prep for N.E.W.T. exams. Harry begins his sixth year in 1996 when the book is "nearly fifty years old," so we can assume Eileen was 16 years old sometime not long after 1946. Severus was born in 1960, which would mean Eileen was in her mid-late 20s at the time.

Her marriage was dysfunctional at best, abusive at worst. As per a Pottermore post that is still up on WizardingWorld.com: "...the desperately lonely and unhappy childhood [Severus] had with a harsh father who didn’t hold back when it came to the whip." Based on this, we can assume Tobias was abusive, and given Eileen's cowering as he shouted at her, she presumably feared him.

From these bits of information emerges the image of a woman who either had a surly personality, or at the very least was guarded, though perhaps just formal. There isn't really any difference in how her face is set when she's in an everyday setting like King's Cross, or when she's having her picture taken for the Gobstones Club. It's possible she was a stern, unsmiling person, but it's also possible - given that her wedding and child were announced in the paper - that she came from a family of some standing and was raised to conduct herself with hallmarks of British class, such as dignity and unaffectedness. After all, there are several wizarding families - such as the Potters - who are wealthy purebloods with social standing but are not part of the Sacred 28. Additionally, the Gobstones Club portrait would have been taken around the mid-1940s, when portraits were formal and their subjects did not often smile, and given that we see only a snippet of Eileen, we don't have enough information that she was unhappy or sour. It's also important to remember that we see her portrait and Snape's memory of her through Harry's perspective and, like his perception of Snape himself, this may convey Harry's biases.

We also know from the text that Snape had a house in a deserted part of Cokeworth, a fictional Midlands town that presumably had a collapsed milling industry, at the end of a street called Spinner's End. There's a great thread that goes into details about the kind of 2 up 2 down house it would have been, and we can assume that this is Snape's family home given that we know he and Lily grew up in Cokeworth. For all intents and purposes, the conclusion we can draw from this being the Snape family's home in the 60s is that they were working class and cripplingly poor. Most estates like this had been cleared by the 60s, and no longer exist today.

This begs the question: how did a witch from a possibly well-off family end up in an abusive marriage in an irrelevant slum?

Buckle up kids, we're leaving the world of textual references and veering into deep meta territory now. I won't label any of this as head canon because I'm not set on these interpretations, and am just drawing conclusions from the text, but some of it may be a bit loose even for meta.

If Eileen was 16 years old not long after 1946, then she would have finished school in the late 40s, possibly even 1950. While some people (including past me) posit the theory that Tobias may have been injured in WWII and his injuries debilitated him, forcing him to go on the dole and affecting his mental health, I'm increasingly skeptical of this theory. It would make more sense if Eileen had known him before he was drafted/enlisted and had committed to a relationship with him, which would then have changed when he came back from the war and was altered. If we assume Eileen's age based on the idea that it was her own copy of Advanced Potion Making Severus used, then she would still have been at school during WWII (which makes an interesting parallel with Severus' own experience of spending the bulk of the first wizarding war against Voldemort as a student at school).

I do think, however, that there's merit in the theory that Tobias suffered some kind of altering injury and that he wasn't necessarily abusive before Eileen committed herself to him. It makes little sense for a Slytherin graduate who was confident and self-posessed enough to be the face of an unpopular club to be drawn to a partner so abusive his shouts caused her to cower and who whipped his child freely. If, however, he was a charming, happy man when they met who suffered a life-altering injury, the trauma of which left him a shell of his former self, then someone like Eileen might stick around for the sake of the parts of his old self she can still see in him.

It's interesting that she didn't seem to use her magic to protect herself or her son, or even to dress her son in clothing that fit, but we know from the text that depression can cause a wizard's powers to wane:

“...it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen”

HBP Ch. 13 (Dumbledore talking about Merope Gaunt)

The fact that the Snapes retained the house in Spinner's End seems to indicate that they continued to live there even when the local industry dried up and the slum was cleared as workers were moved to other parts of the country where they were needed (presumably what happened given *gestures at British history*). The most likely explanation for this would be that Tobias wasn't able to work, and perhaps did suffer an injury, only it was at work, and not during the war. This would mean the family lived on the dole (ie. welfare) and also that he would have spent a lot more time at home. It would also explain his anger and frustration that led to abusive behavior (which isn't to say that disabled people are abusive by any means, but it would have been emasculating for a man who considered himself the breadwinner in the 60s, and chronic pain coupled with limited abilities would give anyone a short fuse).

Moreover, this living situation seems to indicate that there is no additional support coming from anywhere. Where is Eileen's family? Why were they not helping? There's no indication in the text that there is any connection with them at all. We can infer from Snape's memories that, as a child, he learned what he knew about the magical world from his mother. This implies that she talked to him about it a fair amount, and his conviction that he and Lily were going to Hogwarts well before they got their letters also implies that Eileen expected him to go there and was set on her son having a magical education, despite how little she seemed to use her own powers.

Severus knows a lot about the wizarding world as a child, including that prisoners are sent to Azkaban and that it's guarded by Dementors, Hogwarts' house structure and what to expect when he and Lily get there, and about the Statute of Secrecy and the laws around it. When Lily asks him if it makes a difference being Muggleborn, Severus hesitates before replying no, presumably because he's aware of pureblood bias being a part of wizarding culture.

Perhaps that's the reason Eileen's family doesn't seem to be in the picture. My own theory is that Eileen hadn't planned to commit herself to Tobias long-term, and Severus was an accidental outcome of an innocent tryst in which a young Eileen, an educated witch from a well to do pureblood family, was having fun slumming it with a working class muggle and ended up pregnant. While we don't know the wizarding world's attitude around pregnancy and abortion, we do know it's a conservative and classist society that parallels muggle British culture fairly closely, and that the late 50s/early 60s were a time when an out of wedlock baby would have been considered a disgrace.

Add to that the anti-muggle bias of a pureblood family and it sounds like Eileen was disowned her for her mistake (and don't @ me, but even though I know that not all Slytherins are purebloods, it does seem to be a persistent cultural value of the house reaching back to Salazar Slytherin himself, so Eileen's being sorted into it can reasonably be taken as an indication of her blood status). Perhaps the marriage and birth announcements in the Daily Prophet were put in by Eileen herself, if she was a woman from a family where this was customary. It may have been her way of letting her family know of the events, or even of asserting herself and even deliberately defying them, announcing to the whole wizarding world that a Prince married and had a child with a muggle. It makes sense that the girl who wasn't just in the Gobstones club, but became captain, would also say to herself, why shouldn't I have my marriage announced in the paper like everyone else in the family?

It's worth noting that mid-late 20s is pretty young to have a baby in the wizarding world, where the life expectancy and child bearing years are much longer than they are for a muggle. According to the Harry Potter wiki:

"Wizard life expectancy in Britain reached an average 137¾ years in the mid-1990s, according to the Ministry of Divine Health ... Wizards in general have a much longer life expectancy than Muggles, usually living two or three times as long as their non magical counterparts, some living even longer than that depending on circumstances. In addition, seeing as James Potter's parents had him "late in life,” witches likely have significantly longer childbearing years than Muggle women."

Although we see several characters in Severus' generation getting married and having kids not long after leaving school, there's a mention in the text that a lot of people were doing this during Voldemort's reign, as the fear he inspired made people more eager to get a move on with life since they thought they might die any day (I think Mrs. Weasley says this but I can't find the quote, @ me if you do). It's clear this wasn't the norm in the wizarding world. Eileen was a Slytherin, a house that values cunning, ambition, and strong wizarding heritage. Something must have gone very wrong in Eileen's life for her to end up having a child so young and living in a muggle slum.

And so it's possible Eileen Prince found herself pregnant and alone, having been disowned by her family to save face in light of her disgrace, and dependent on the only person she was still close to, the father of her child. It's the kind of storyline that Rowling would write, and it would parallel fairly closely the story of Voldemort's mother, thus adding another to the long list of similarities between Voldemort and Snape.

Lorrie Kim makes an interesting point when she talks about how Snape has a strong reaction to other people having a love life or romantic experiences (the context being Rowling's intention of his love for Lily being romantic and unrequited), but doesn't react particularly strongly to mothers sacrificing themselves for their children, whereas Voldemort does. Her insight, and I think it's a reasonable one, is that Severus accepts the idea of mothers making sacrifices for their children, whether it's Lily giving her life for Harry or Narcissa risking all she did to ask for his help in protecting Draco, because his own mother protected him from his father as much as she could.

There's a lot of room for interpretation on what Eileen's relationship with her son looked like, and what it says about her own state. She may have prioritized not angering Tobias to protect Severus, who as a child might have perceived her actions as a form of rejection. At the same time, she seems to have prepared him thoroughly for life in the magical world, perhaps in the hope that he would find his place in it and escape home. Perhaps she missed it and told him so much about it so she could live through her own memories.

The only time we see her argue with Tobias, in Severus' memory, she's cowering as he shouts. We know from JK Rowling that Tobias used corporal punishment liberally, which implies Eileen didn't stop him despite her magical abilities. We also see in the text, however, that while at school Severus stood up for himself against bullies and fought back, and that he was an exceptionally clever and powerful wizard. As an adult he was brave enough to face Dumbledore when he betrayed Voldemort, and later fought against Voldemort right under his nose (or lack thereof). So it stands to reason that at some point Severus began to stand up against Tobias too.

How much of that was Eileen's influence, or the result of Severus seeing her acceptance of her fate and rejecting it for himself, is hard to say. As for what happened to Tobias and Eileen that their house was Severus' by the mid-90s and they were nowhere in sight, I don't think there's enough information in the text to infer.

#meta #long post #eileen prince

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speedycoffeedelight · 2 months

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An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You come across something you never expected.

(A.n: Buckle up everyone, cause this and the next chapter are going to be a little dark. I swear crack and fluff are on their way!)

Tw: Murder, details of murder,animal death and blood

CH-5 : Could this day get any worse?

You slowly walked up to the spider, examining it. The spider was also looking at you with its..mismatched eyes? Are spiders supposed to have mismatched eyes? The spider was almost as big as your plam. It had a pink heart shaped fur on its back.'Huh, that's cute..' you thought. You still weren't a big fan of spiders. Though nor did you like to kill them. "I'll...just leave you be for now I guess?" You said while awkwardly scratching your neck. You didn't want to risk getting it outside for it to jump on you. Having the cockroach jump on you was enough for one day. As long as it didn't do any funny stuff, you should be fine right?

You walked back to your chair, Keeping a cautious eye on the spider. Part of you believed looking at it intimidatingly will make it fear you and not come close. As you sat on the chair, you could almost swear the spider rolled it's eyes at your antics but you were probably just imagining it.

"Alrighty then..time to get to work!" You said to yourself. You decided to put some songs as your background music while you worked. Picking up your phone, you started the first song that came up, which was 'Inside of every demon is a rainbow' from hazbin hotel.

You found out about Hazbin Hotel about a few months ago and it has been living rent free in your head since then. Luckily enough, it's first season will air in a couple weeks and you absolutely couldn't wait to watch it. You adored the whole crew, especially alastor. You were kind of a simp for him to be completely honest. You also listened to hunicast's past hazbin hotel live streams too. They absolutely made you lose your shit from laughing sometimes and sometimes made you melt like a puddle with their flirting. You sorta could understand Ashley's pain. You were sad that you didn't find the live streams sooner.

You started to work while humming with the song. This time you had to edit some drafts about a murderer on loose that's terrorising everyone recently. His name was apparently Elias Adler. He was in 26-29 year old range. He had long blonde hair, and bags under his blue eyes. He also had a piercing on his ear. Police hasn't been able to catch him yet. But they did manage to catch one of his accomplices. They learnt about his name from there.

Unfortunately they couldn't get any other information out of him since Elias wouldn't share any personal information with them. Police suspected the guy was just a another tool for him to get what he wanted. He has committed 16 confirmed murders till now. They were able to identify the murders being done by him due to how violent the scenes were. Bloods and guts everywhere, head half separated from the torso, multiple stab wounds and more.

Police were close to catching him one time. But he slipped them, though it cost him a bullet in his left arm. He was last seen about a couple of kilometres away in a town from where you are currently. Police are searching everywhere currently to catch this man. Police promised large amounts of money if anyone could give them any clue about this man. You sighed, people could be so rotten sometimes in this world....you prayed from the bottom of your heart for this man to be caught as soon as possible.

Somewhere,a man inside a van sneezed as he was patching up his wounds. "For fucks sake, I don't need to catch cold right now" he cursed.

As you started to edit the next topic of your work. You failed to notice all the animals inside the room freaking out about the song you blasted .'How..how is this possible..' Charlie whispered as she heard her song from her recent interview come up. Never in her whole life she expected her song to be played on earth.

Others were freaking out too. Vaggie quickly flew in front of your phone to check what was going on. 'Is this us...? Why do we look so.. cartoony? This is from 'Hazbin Hotel?? How do they know what we are working with??' Vaggie screamed. 'Does that mean people are spying on us??' Niffty asked. 'But hey this could be good guys! What if we convinced them that we are actually these demons. Then she could help us figure something out right?' Charlie said with hope.

'And ya think this girl will take kindly to know that she has four demons under her roof? Hah, that's the fastest way for us to get kicked out toots' Angel snickered from the back. 'Although I hate to admit it, Angel is right about it hon.' Vaggie said flying back to Charlie. 'She would just get freaked out more. We need more time to decide what to do. Especially since somehow we are... cartoon characters on earth. She might not believe us'

Charlie looked at you humming and singing her song with delight, then back at Vaggie. 'I..suppose you're right.. let's wait to see where this goes!' Charlie said with enthusiasm. Though a part of Charlie's heart felt a bit warm seeing you liking her song so much, especially since how she was treated for the song after the interview.

You worked about 2 hours before you decided it was time to take a break. Taking a big stretch, you closed your laptop and stood up to make a cup of coffee. You let out a yelp to find out that all the animals are standing right beside your chair together, except the puppy. You didn't even notice when the spider came down and sat beside your chair. You carefully tip toed around the spider, not wanting to set it off and went to the kitchen.

After taking your coffee and spending your time doing random stuff, it was already afternoon. You decided it would be nice to go out for a walk. Also the sheep could use some fresh grass to eat from outside.

You packed some snacks in a bag and also your drawing pad in case you felt like drawing outside. Then your eyes came into contact with your pocket knife and a pepper spray in the drawer. You used to keep them just to be safe while walking around alone in town at night. You wondered if you should take them. After thinking for a bit, you shrugged, why not, better safe than sorry, even kinda in the middle of nowhere.

Wearing your bag, you picked up the puppy and called out to your ewe as you opened the door. The ewe came running after you. The moth came too and again sat on your head. You locked your door and looked at the ewe only to find the spider was sitting on its fur. You walked around for a bit and then sat on a side of a field and watched while the sheep and the puppy were running and playing with each other. A small smile came to your lips as you picked up your tab to draw a quick sketch of the adorable sight in front of you.

Suddenly a cat approached the puppy and the sheep, mewing loudly. They both stopped playing and started to listen to it. Within seconds they rushed to you. The puppy started to bite and drag your pants leg.

"Ow,hey,hey, what's going on?" You said standing up. The puppy barked at you and ran a bit ahead and stopped to look at you. You took it as a sign that it wanted you to follow something. You began to follow the puppy who was now running alongside an old looking cat. You were weirded out of your mind but decided to push it away, what if the puppy found its owner and wanted to show you. After walking through the woods for some time, both the cat and the puppy stopped in front of a large bush. The puppy started growling and the cat started hissing. The sheep which was following you stopped behind you too. It was like they all sensed some kinda danger in front of them.

Giving them a worried glance you walked in front, pushing the bush out of your way, you came across a sight you never expected to see in a million years.

There was the big deer from before. Now its body was painted with red and had a lot of wounds. In its antlers were some pink gooey looking things covered in blood that you guessed were the guts of some of the wolves that were lying in the ground right now. It looked tired and almost ready to give out at any moment. The ground around them was splattered with blood as well. There were only two wolves left standing. One of the wolves was closing in on the deer, while the other locked eyes with you and started coming your way.

You could feel your heart beat out of your chest as you clutched your bag tightly. How the hell did you fall into this situation??

(A.N: In any case you guys don't know hunicast, I highly recommend checking it out!! Especially to alastor simps, check out hunicast's alastorcast, I promise you won't regret it~)

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vintagevixyxol · 1 month

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The old language: the alphabet and some patterns

from the books Dark Rise by C.S.Pacat

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The old world holds many attractions for the readers: its mysterious history, culture, characters and language. There are inscriptions and phrases in old language in the books. At first glance, they look scary and inexplicable. Nevertheless, at second glance, the language opens up. In this analysis, I hope to show that the old language is amazing and share the delight I had researching it.

First of all, disclaimer. I am not a true linguist and, moreover, not Kettering, but a person who loves to find out patterns and tries to explain them. This article is just my theory, hypothesis and my point of view. It can be different from the canon.

There were phrases in the old language and their translations in the first edition of the Dark Rise. They inspired me to reconstruct the old language alphabet and to start my research. The inscriptions in the Dark Heir, the second book, proved the alphabet to be correct.

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The alphabet

As I have already mentioned, the alphabet is based on the translations of the old language in the first edition. I will use one phrase as an example to explain a deciphering algorithm. As I have applied the same algorithm to all inscriptions, I will only mention other phrases in the old language to show the letters they contributes to the alphabet.

The phrases from the Dark Rise: Decoding the alphabet

Step 1: selecting similar letters

Here is the phrase “Rassalon the first lion”.

There are two S in “RaSSalon”; there is also S in “firSt”

Double S is between two A

The first word begins with R, and R is also present in“fiRst”

L — “Lion”

O —“liOn”

N — “lioN”

“...the First Lion”

T — in “The” and “firsT”

i — in “first” and “lion”

!(why “i” is small I am going to explain later)!

Step 2: non-repeating letters

New letters: H, e (!) and F.

Other phrases

He is coming (Dark Rise, chapter 11)

New letters: C, M, G

I cannot return when I am called to fight So I will have a child (Dark Rise, chapter 2)

New letters: U, W, D, V, I(!)

I and i are different. In my opinion, it might be because “I” is a pronoun.

Enter only those who can (Dark Rise, chapter 15)

New lettres: Y, E

E and e are different. Perhaps, it is because “E” is in the beginning of the word “Enter”.

The horn all seek and never find (Dark Rise, chapter 15)

The new letter: K

Note: The letter design in the figures is a little different from the original design due to qualities issues.

The phrases from the Dark Heir: Proving the alphabet relevance

There are also inscriptions in the Dark Heir. If I use the same strategy here, it does, here are the proofs.

The first proof

One of the inscriptions is the name Undahar. Names are not translated. All letters in Undahar match the letters of my alphabet except U. It turns out to be V in the previous inscriptions, so I will write two variants U/V because I am not sure which one is correct.

The Eclipse/Finem Solis (Dark Heir, chapter 26)

The second proof

Here is the phrase: “He is coming.”

(Dark Heir, chapter 2)

Although there is one unknown letter, we can identify it by using the similar phrase:

He is fighting — Ar ventas

He is coming — *r uentas/ventas

The new letter is A. I think this A is different from the regular A because it is the first letter of a pronoun. Pronouns start with capital letters to avoid confusion with other words that include “ar”.

The result: alphabet

Of course, I admit the possibility that not all letters comply with the original alphabet as it is in the U/V case.

Issues in deciphering

The same phrases in the old language are written differently in the Dark Rise and the Dark Heir. I do not know whether it is due to errors in the first two editions or it means something else.

He is coming, Dark Rise (chapter 11), edition 2021

He is coming, Dark Rise (chapter 11) edition 2022

He is coming, Dark Heir (chapter 2)

The past cries out, but the present cannot hear, Dark Heir (chapter 2)

Only a Steward may enter, Dark Heir (chapter 37)

Dark Rise (chapters 2, 10, 11, 15), edition 2021

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The structure of the language

There is more to the old language than the inscriptions. Here are my thoughts on the other aspects of the old language. The old language is likely to be the parent language to all languages in the books, the language from which modern languages have derived. The old language has similarities to Latin and Sanskrit, borrowings from Sindarin, Quenya and some unidentified languages.

Vocabulary

Analyzing new information, I have found patterns that helped me to identify word classes. The word classes of the old language are shown in the table below.

Data summary sheets

----------- ✶ ----------- Nouns and names

Most nouns end with “ar”, but there are two nouns that end with “or/er”. The pattern is pretty apparent, so I am going to discuss only the nouns that do not fit the pattern.

Aladharet and adharet

My suggestions about meanings and forms of the word “adharet” are based on this dialog:

‘He said, ‘I am not aladharet.’ <...> ‘I cannot do magic,’ he said. ‘I have never trained with the’ – there was no other word for it – ‘adharet.’ <...> ‘I only know what I have seen, watching the adharet cast spells as I fought to protect them.’ (Dark heir, chapter 38).

There are two variants of the word: aladharet is singular and adharet is plural. Perhaps, “al” is the marker of a singular form, I would no more touch on single/plural forms because we do not have enough information.

The closest meaning from the context is a wizard /enchanter. This noun is interesting because “ar” is in the middle of the word. I think it is a verbal noun (a noun derived from a verb), such as spell – speller, enchant – enchanter.

Kishtar

According to the book, “Vara kishtar” is a shadow hound. “Kishtar” is highly likely to mean a hound or hounds. (Chapter 21)

The root “Kisht” means field, sown-field, tillage, cultivation, (at chess) check in Sanskrit. Of course, the meaning of the word in the old language is different, but it is still quite an interesting coincidence.

Similarities to Latin

There are some Latin names in the books like “Finem Solis”. Besides, some words in the old language are very similar to Latin (see the examples below).

“Callax Reigor” (The Cup of Kings) (Chapter 46)

“Callax” reminds Latin “Calix” (the Cup).

Reigor (Kings)

The root “reig” resembles the Latin root “reg” in “regio,-are”, “regium” (to rule/ royal).

Valdithar

English translation is “dauntless”, it is the name of Sancean`s horse. It has the ending “ar”, probably, because this adjective plays a role of a noun as abstract adjectives can be nouns in English. Synonyms of the “dauntless” are valorous, valiant. They derived from the Latin word “valens” – strong, powerful. This meaning of “val” seems to be suitable for Valdithar as well.

Similarities to Tolkien`s languages: Sindarin and Quenya

As some readers know, C.S.Pacat is a big fan of the J.R.Tolkien, so I decided to compare Tolkien`s languages with the old language and found out some borrowings from them. Several names look like Elvish words in which some letters are altered.

The ending “ion” is typical to Elvish.

Anharion

He is the Light’s greatest fighter who served the Sun King. That name consists of two parts: “Anar” is the Sun and “ion” is a son in Elvish. The sound “h” is pronounced with exhalation, so it might be omitted. Anharion means the son of the Sun in this case. In addition, the name was given to him by the Light side (the Sun King) and it is not his true name.

Ekthalion/thalion

Ekthalion is the Sword of the Champion.

Although “Fermaran, katara thalion” (Dark Heir, chapter 29) does not have a translation, “thalion” is a hero/a dauntless man in Sindarin. In my opinion, the coincidence is not an accident. “Thalion” is the part of the Sword`s name and the meaning seems relevant in context of the books.

Moreover, Ecthelion`s fate in the Silmarillion is quite similar to the fate of the Sword. Ecthelion slayed Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, at the cost his life. The Sword`s fate is described in the book as follows:

…As a weapon to kill the Dark King. It’s said that a great Champion of the Light rode out with it to fight him <…> but could do no more than draw a single drop of the Dark King’s blood. That’s all it took to corrupt the Blade… (Dark Rise, chapter 13).

The name Ecthelion had its own evolution: its Qenya cognate was Ektelion.

Another thing

Veredun

One of the characters mentioned this name in the following dialog:

‘This isn’t my first time at sea.’ Visander <…>. ‘Atlantic? Pacific?’ ‘The Veredun,’ said Visander. He looked out at the night expanse of black water. This did not feel like the Veredun, or like any sea he had known (Dark Heir, chapter 34).

Names are not translated, but I wanted to know more about this old world sea/ocean. There is no word which is exactly the same in any language relevant to my research, but there are analogs to its parts.

Vere/verus is “truth” in Latin

Dun is “dark/deep/gray/gloomy” in English

Dun is “West” in Sindarin

My translation is “The deep truth” or “The dark truth” or “The West truth”, but I do not pretend to know the truth.

Verbs

All verbs that we know end with “as”.

Aragas

Aragas means “open” in the old language. I have not found any Latin roots. However, separate parts of this word exist in Sindarin: “ara” is “royal” and “gas” means a hole/gap/opening. Aragas is used for opening gates that connected the Kingdoms, for opening the oubliette under the Sun King`s throne and in the metaphor of opening the door of the Dark King`s magic. All these cases are associated with something “royal” and “opening”. I might have gone a bit too far here and read too much into it.

Ar ventas

Ar ventas – He is fighting (The translation from the text, Dark Heir, chapters 27, 29)

Ar uentas/ventas – He is coming (The translation of the inscription, Dark Heir, chapter 2)

There is a possibility that these verbs are borrowed from Latin. The root of the word “uent” is the same as in the Latin verb “uenio/venio” (to come). Thus the ending “as” indicates a tense and a person (is coming). My guess is that V and U are interchangeable in Latin. Therefore, “ventas” means “is coming” and “is fighting” at the same time. I think “uentas” is right, because U turns into V.

Vala!

One of the characters used this word in the following dialog:

With a tug of her horse’s mane, she [Visander] said something that sounded like Vala!, and they burst out of the stable doors (Dark Heir, chapter 21).

I think it is the command “walk/run” for a horse and the verb could be in the imperative mood. In my opinion, there is a parallel to Latin. Singular imperatives are formed by removing the ending “re” from verb roots, for example, monstra̅re (to show) – monstra (show). Nevertheless, “Vala!” could be another command, e.g. “gallop/forward/ahead”.

Adjectives

I think the ending “ra” indicates adjectives. Valdithar looks like an exception, but I think it is not an exception because it is a noun (see the section about nouns).

Vara

The translation of “Vara kishtar” given in the books is “a shadow hound” (Dark Heir, chapter 21).

It also means “soiled” and “dirty” in Quenya. As far as we know, “Vara kishtar” is a creature of the Dark side, and all shadow creatures could be “soiled” in the Light side`s opinion. By the way, there is the Sanskrit word “vara” that means “the best, excellent, the eldest”. The meaning is opposite to the meaning in the old language, but the Dark side could use the word differently.

Katara

“Fermaran, katara thalion”(Dark Heir, chapter 29).

Katara ought to be an adjective because it ends with “ra” and because of its position in the sentence (before a noun). The text does not give a translation, so I decided to consult dictionaries.

Latin and both Elvish languages did not help, but Sanskrit has the adjective “katara”. It has several meanings:

Which (of the two)

Mean, poor, miserable

Timid, shy/cowardly, cowardly/fearful

I have never mentioned Greek before, but it also contains “katara”, but as a noun: κατάρα is a curse or a calamity/disaster.

----------- ✶ -----------

Other observations

I noticed other patterns as well, but I need more examples to confirm them.

Structure of sentences

Like in English, a subject goes before a predicate:

Ar ventas – He is fighting

Ar uentas – He is coming

An adjective precedes a noun:

Vara kishtar – a shadow hound

Katara thalion – a shy hero (?)

My own hypothesis

Old language adjectives agree with nouns in gender, case and number.

There is evidence that verbs conjugate and have different tenses. So far I managed to identify only one verb form (continuous, third person, singular). I suppose that the inscriptions contain other verbs as English translations provide other verb forms including modal verbs, various tenses and person.

The reconstructed translation

Only one phrase from the Dark Heir has no translation: “Fermaran, katara thalion” (Dark Heir, chapter 29). We know the hypothetical meanings of the words from the analysis, so the translation might be reconstructed.

Fermaran

Ar ventas fermaran (Chapter 27)

Ar ventas, fermaran (Chapter 29)

In this case, “fermaran" is not used to address someone because there is a variant without a comma. Catalan has the verb “fermar”. It means “to stop”. The form “fermaran” is “they will stop” in indicative future, plural, third.

The reconstructed phrase goes as: “They will stop, mean/timid/poor hero”. It can fit in the context but it is still pretty questionable.

Inscriptions

Unfortunately, I have not achieved my goal to identify words in the inscriptions from the Dark Heir. As I mentioned there is not enough data. For example, the words we know from the translations such as the adverb “only”, the negation “cannot”, the modal verb “may” and the English phrase verb “cries out” remain unidentified. These inscriptions are still the Phaistos disc:

The past cries out, but the present cannot hear (Dark heir, chapter 2)

Only a Steward may enter (Dark heir, chapter 37)

Dark Rise paper editions 2021-2022

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The conclusion

Roots of the old language lie in Latin, Sanscrit, Sindarin/Quenya and, perhaps, something else. Four Kingdoms, four language families: Latin for the Sun/Undahar, Sanskrit for the Serpent or the home of the Lions, Elvish or unknown one for the Tower or the Rose.

I hope the third book will provide new data that will allow me to decode all inscriptions and get more profound understanding of the old language. Meanwhile, I am going to entertain myself with guesses, theories and attempts to decode the inscriptions.

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Acknowledgements

I would like to express my thanks to my aunt for being my editor, for all help and discussions about the old language, to my sister for all figures and to my friends from Undahar for the support and help! Thank you all very much!

All information is from the Dark Rise, the Dark Heir and dictionaries: Latin, Sanskrit, Sindarin and Quenya.

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The article also was written for the C.S.Pacat fanbook "Undahar" made by people from the discord server Undahar.

Please, credit me if you want to share the analysis.

#c s pacat #cs pacat #dark rise #dark heir #old world language #books

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avastrasposts · 11 months

Text

The Pilot and his girl - ch 11

Now we're getting into the fun part! 😋 The metaphorical shit is about to hit the fan as Frankie and our reader get ready for their one year anniversary on September 26, 2013. I had a lot of "fun" writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy it even though I'm now taking a seriously hard left turn with this series, away from the fluffy little bubble I've wrapped us in. The warnings will contain spoilers so I've put them in a separate post and will update them as I go: Warnings

Word count: 6.2 k

Chapter 12

Chapter 1, if you want to catch up from the beginning

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories

“Cariño! I’ve got to go now, come kiss me!” Frankie calls through the apartment as he pulls on his boots, hastily tying them up before he tugs on his jacket. “Carinooooooo!” he wails, “come kiss me goodbye, I can’t leave if you don’t kiss me!”

You spit out the toothpaste and rush to rinse your mouth, before opening the bathroom door, looking over at your baby of a boyfriend who’s currently standing by the door, bag in hand, making puppy eyes at you. “Cariñoooooo!" he wails impatiently while you pad over to him on bare feet, shaking your head.

“You’re such a baby, Francisco Morales,” you wrap your arms around his neck as he bends down and gives you a wet kiss on your lips before trailing more wet kisses down your throat.

“I can’t leave if you don’t kiss me,” he gives you a fake pout as he stands up. “You’re sure you’re ok to pack everything up on your own? I’ll be back as soon as possible so we can just load into the truck and go.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I’ll do some laundry and pack the last of the food. Just ring me when you leave work and I’ll be ready to go when you’re back.”

“Ok, hermosa, mi amor, my gorgeous cariño, happy anniversary, my love,” Frankie captures your chin between his thumb and fingers and you smile up at him as he gives you another long kiss.

“Happy anniversary, Frankie, my love,” you mumble against his lips, giggling as he tries to push you up against the door, groping at your ass, “I thought you had to leave.”

“I do, fuck, but I don’t want to,” Frankie sighs, and plants a final kiss on your mouth before he opens the door and heads out, “I’ll see you this afternoon, hermosa,” he smiles, “te amo.”

“Love you too, Frankie.”

You lock up behind him and continue to get ready. The plan is to head out of the city and up to Denny’s cabin as soon as Frankie’s back from work. You’re working from home today to save some time, you’ve set aside manuscripts to read and that’s best done from home anyway.

Frankie had surprised you a couple of weeks ago by telling you he’d asked Denny if you two could borrow the cabin for your anniversary, have a little holiday together. Today was exactly one year since you met at The Outback Bar and it had been the best year of your life thanks to Frankie. A weekend escape, just the two of you at the cabin, sounded like the perfect way to celebrate. To make matters even better you’d closed on a house just a few days ago, all the paperwork signed, you didn’t even have the keys yet, but you’d still spent the past three days mentally decorating the whole place. Frankie had sent Lucía pictures of the house and her room and she’d been over the moon to see the pictures of the pool outside. Now you were planning on throwing your very first Thanksgiving dinner at your new house together with Frankie and Lucía.

You allowed yourself to get lost in daydreams for a while as you finished your breakfast and cleared the kitchen, throwing a load of clothes in the washing machine. While it ran its cycle you sat down at your small home office and went over the manuscript.

Frankie called you just after lunch with bad news.

“I’m sorry, cariño, I think I’ll probably be later than I thought, things are fucking crazy today,” he sighed over the phone. “One of our choppers crashed, we can’t get hold of the pilot, I’m just fucking praying he’s ok, Denny’s on his way out there now.” You can hear him rub his hand over his face, rough against his scruffy beard, “And I’ve got to fly three doctors to different locations, apparently they’re swamped, all kinds of crazy shit happening, it’s like it’s a full moon night but it’s midday.”

“It’s fine, Frankie, just fly safe, you’ll get here when you get here and if it’s too late we’ll drive up tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to be with you all weekend,” he huffs, “Fuck, I’ve got to go, Denny’s on the radio. Talk soon, cariño.” He hangs up before you have a chance to say goodbye.

By the time seven pm rolls around you have everything packed up for the trip to the cabin, you’ve been checking your phone for Frankie’s phone call for the past hour. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said things were crazy today, you’d gone down to the corner store for some snacks for the road and found it closed, shutters down even though it was only five pm, the streets empty. And on your way back to the apartment you’d seen a police car crash into a small car. You’d started running over to the crash to see if you could help but a police man had stumbled from the cruiser and yelled at you to get back inside, to stay away. Something in his voice had scared you and you’d turned back straight away, running back to your building and up the stairs.

Once back in the apartment you’d locked the door and tried calling Frankie, but he didn’t pick up. That wasn’t unusual, he usually couldn’t answer when he was flying, if you really needed to get hold of him you’d call Denny and he’d patch you through on the radio. But you tried Denny too and there was no reply there either, not on his cell or the landline to the airfield.

So now it’s seven pm and you’re getting antsy. There are an extraordinary amount of police sirens outside, the news are talking about riots in the streets downtown, but the footage makes it look more like a warzone and the local news cuts the broadcast when someone attacks the camera man.

At nine you’re pacing the apartment, back and forth between the big window facing the street and the small window in the kitchen overlooking the parking lot. When your phone rings you jump, and relief floods your chest when you see that it’s Frankie. “Frankie, where are you? Did you see the news?” you ask when you pick up, but you’re interrupted by him straight away.

“Cariño, where are you? Still at home?” He sounds stressed and he’s breathing hard.

“Yeah, I’m at home, waiting for you, of course. What’s going on, are you running?” You press your phone to your ear, trying to hear what’s going on around him, you can hear people shouting in the background.

“I was, I’m trying to get away from Washington Park, I…I got into some trouble,” he stutters, “some guy was beating up another guy and I pulled over to stop him, I had to pull him off the other guy but he was fucking crazy, like high on salts or something, never seen anything like it. He came after me and I had to…I’m sorry cariño, I had to…take him out.”

You hear the shame in his voice, you’ve only talked a couple of times about the guy in the bar Frankie beat up because he thought he’d hit you. He knew his skill at violence scared you and he’d done his utmost to prove to you that he wasn’t a violent person. But now he’d had to take this guy out, in self defence, and he was trying to explain it to you.

“Just get home, Frankie,” you say, “we can talk when you get here, just get home.”

“I’m trying, hermosa, but the police turned up and…fuck…hang on.”

You hear his heavy boots shuffling over broken glass and hard ground, he grunts as he seems to move through or over a structure, nearly dropping the phone.

“Ok, I have to keep moving, hermosa,” he pants, “the police turned up and…they thought I’d killed the guy, the didn’t see him beating up the other guy an-”

“You killed him!?” your eyes are wide, you’ve stopped dead in your tracks in front of the big window.

“I don’t know, cariño, the police came, they pulled their guns on me, I had to run and-”

“Frankie, why the fuck did you run from the police? You’re gonna get into so much more trouble now!”

“I couldn’t stay, something isn’t right, some weird shit is happening all over town.”

“And fucking running from the police after beating someone to death is the way to make it less weird, Frankie?” you spit out, you’ve been worried about him for hours but now your nervous energy shifts into anger at his stupidity. “Just get the fuck home and we’ll deal with this mess in the morning, or just maybe just turn yourself in, it’s gonna look so bad with you running from the scene.” You sigh, pushing your fingers through your hair, “Frankie, why’d you have to be so reckless?”

Frankie bristles, you can hear his anger, “You don’t understa-” he begins but suddenly your phone goes dead, cutting him off. You look down at the screen and curse, you have no reception, there are no bars, it looks like the service has overloaded or gone down.

“Fuck,” you say out loud, and turn it off, maybe a restart will help, but no luck. Your phone is still dead and when you try calling Frankie on your landline phone it goes straight to voicemail. You leave a message, telling him to just come home as soon as possible.

After that there’s not much to do except wait, you resume your path between the kitchen window and the living room window, stopping every now and then to flick through the news, all hell seems to be breaking out across the state, even the country. You try calling Frankie a few more times but it still goes straight to voicemail. The knot in your stomach is growing, making you feel nauseous with nerves.

You call Pope but there’s no reply so you call Will’s landline. Hannah picks up and she’s frantic with worry about Will, he’s not back from work and she can’t get hold of him either. Benny was meant to have dinner with them and he’s taken the car to try and go pick up Will at work but with the cell phone services down she can’t reach him either.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” she almost cries, “I saw people running down the street just now and I don’t know if I should leave or what?”

“No, just stay put, Will or Benny will come back there so just lock up and wait,” you say, you can’t stop yourself from biting your nails, you feel panic rising in your throat.

You promise to keep in touch and update each other, when you hang up you feel sick to your stomach. You desperately want Frankie to come back, you need to see him and feel his arms around you, tell you it’ll be alright, but no matter how many times you call, you only get his voicemail. You ring a few extra times just to hear his voice repeat the same message.

“Hi, this is Francisco Morales, I can’t pick up right now, please leave a message.”

“Please, please, please, Frankie, come home, come home, baby,” you whisper into the phone as you listen to his voice again.

Night has fallen outside and it’s even worse, around the city fires have broken out and from your apartment you can see a couple of them burn out of control. Just after midnight the news channel stops broadcasting, suddenly, in the middle of an update. You flick through the channels but there’s only static on all of them.

You call Will’s place again but there’s no reply, you hope that means Benny has brought back Will to Hannah, and they can’t pick up right now, maybe they’re on their way here.

Just as you’ve put the phone down it rings again and you snatch it up.

“Frankie?” you almost cry down the receiver but instead you hear Pope’s worried voice.

“Is Frankie there?” he asks, you can hear the stress in his voice.

“No, he called at nine, he…he was in some trouble but I don’t know…he was on his way home, but he’s not here yet,” your words rush out, “Pope, what’s happening? I can’t get hold of Will or Benny either and I’m freaking out!”

“I don’t know, it’s a shit show, people are…listen, I’m not too far from you, I’ll try and make it over there. I’m on a military frequency so my phone’s still up, I’ll call you if anything. Just stay put inside, keep the door locked.”

“Yes, yeah, of course, I’m waiting for Frankie, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, double checking the lock and deadbolt on the front door.

“Do you have a weapon, a gun, baseball bat, knife, anything?” he asks, you can hear him jogging, his shoes drumming along whatever hard surface he is on.

“I don’t know, I don’t think we have a gun, we have a baseball bat, and the kitchen knives,” you frown, looking out the window again, “Pope, why do I need to arm myself, are people looting?”

“Yeah, they’re looting and it’s getting violent, so stay inside, and don’t open to anyone except me or Frankie. And don’t talk to anyone but me or Frankie, ok?”

“Ok, I’ll dig out the baseball bat straight away but…but just get here, please, Pope, I’m really scared.” You leave the window and go to the closet in the guest room where Frankie keeps his old bat.

“I know, I know, I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Hurry, please, and stay safe, Santi,” you say, you can feel tears gathering on your lashes as your voice starts to wobble.

“I need you to be strong, ok,” Pope’s voice is firm, as if he’s giving a soldier orders, “I need you to handle yourself, if someone tries to come through that door, you need to defend yourself, do you understand? Even kill them if it comes to that, do not let anyone attack you.”

“Santi…” you stumble, “I can’t..”

“I know, but you have to. This is serious, Frankie’s not around so I need to make sure you’re safe, and for you to be safe, you need to be ruthless now, do you understand?” His voice has a sharp edge, he’s breathing hard, moving fast trying to get to you, and the reality of what he’s saying hits you.

“I promise, Pope,” you whisper, “I’ll…I’ll try my best to defend myself, I’ll try.”

“Good, I’m about an hour away on foot, but it’s slow going. Give me two to three hours and I should be there.”

“Stay safe, Santi, please,” you beg, pressing the receiver of the phone to your ear, as if hearing the voice of your friend will keep him and you safe.

“I’ll try my best, and stay strong for me, and for Frankie, ok?”

“I will,” you promise.

…

When his phone dies, Frankie hears the click and then nothing. He had a feeling this would happen, it’s mayhem in the city and the system is bound to be overloaded, so the lack of reception is no surprise, but he still curses under his breath.

He was moving down narrow back alleys, jogging fast, staying off the main streets, avoiding people, especially any police, as he tried to get away from Washington Park. When he’d put some distance between himself and the park, he’d stopped to call home. He’d crouched down just behind a dumpster, keeping out of sight, while he talked to her. Now he stands up carefully, looking up and down the alley and considers his next move. The keys to his truck are in his pocket, it’s still where he left it by the park, he could maybe try to get back to it but the police are sure to be there.

But something, at the back of his head, tells him he needs to keep moving and get home as fast as possible. Things are not normal, the whole day has been a shit show, but now, now it’s getting out of control. The man he’d tried stopping beating up the other guy had been raging, he’d turned and attacked Frankie so fast he’d barely had time to react. Only his instincts from the army, slower now but still just under the surface, had saved him from getting bit, fucking bit!

The guy had actually tried biting him when Frankie sidestepped, and tripped him up, making him fall to the ground. He’d been on his feet in a flash and Frankie knew the guy was high on something when he saw his eyes, so he’d sidestepped again and swung an elbow to the guy’s head, hitting him in the temple. It had been harder than he’d intended but the sudden attack had his adrenaline running high, and the man had dropped to the ground and remained motionless.

As he started running, when the police pulled up, his only thought was to get away as fast as possible. But as he ran, as he put a couple of blocks between him and the park, he saw others starting to act strange. When a city bus crashed into a taxi he dodged into an alley, the passengers on the bus flailing about inside as if they were locked in battle with each other. Frankie’s gut was yelling at him that something was very wrong, this was not just a weird day, this was something else, but he couldn’t wrap his head around what was going on. So he’d stopped to call her, to hear her voice and make sure she was safe, and let her know he was trying to get home.

The way the call ended, when the phone network died, left a knot in his stomach that had nothing to do with the unfolding mayhem in the city. This weekend was meant to be about them, he wanted everything to be perfect, and now the last words between them had been anger. The small box in his jacket pocket represented everything he wanted for their future, and more than anything he needed to get back to her, to explain what had happened and get them out of the city for their anniversary. Whatever the fuck was going with everyone else, he needed to be with her, at the cabin, and ask her to be his wife. Everything else was secondary.

Frankie drew a deep breath and started moving back towards Washington Park. He needs his truck, it’s their best chance at getting out of the city. Hopefully the police had been called away on something else, letting paramedics deal with the guy he’d taken down, maybe he hadn’t actually killed him.

He stays on side streets and alleys, keeping low, staying out of sight. When he sees the door to a gun shop wide open, he pauses, considering the risk. A gun would make him feel safer, but looting one now, is pretty shitty behaviour. The thought stays with him for only a second, before he cautiously moves into the shop. The back of the shop is dark but quiet, broken glass crunches under his boots as he moves towards one of the display cases. There’s rifles on the wall but they’re too hard to hide, instead he quickly finds a Glock among the wreckage, the familiar gun feels solid in his hand.

There’s ammo behind the counter but when he steps around it, he sees the woman, splayed on the floor, face down. He stops in his tracks, staring down at her still form for a beat. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and he can see the blood where it’s been ripped open over her shoulder. It doesn’t look like a significant amount of blood but he can’t see her face, can’t tell if she’s alive or not.

There’s a box of ammo near him and he quickly loads the gun, sliding a full magazine into the Glock. He doesn’t know why, maybe the way the day has been, but he keeps his gun trained on the woman, safety off, while he carefully moves towards her. There’s more ammo behind her and he wants to pick it up, but he also doesn’t want to leave her injured or dead without checking on her.

Gently he nudges the toe of his boot against her hand, shifting it slightly, and he hears a deep growl, inhuman. The sound makes him take a quick step back, more glass breaking under his feet with a loud crackle. The woman lifts her head and turns to look at him for a beat. All Frankie has time to think is that her eyes have the same rage as the man at the park, she scrambles to her feet and launches herself at him. He fires his gun on instinct, the bullet hitting her cheek, the close range making it explode out the back of her head.

She drops instantly as Frankie holds the gun trained at her. It takes a split second for his training to kick in, but then he moves. Stepping over her, he grabs two more boxes of ammo, stuffing them in his pockets, before he quickly throws himself over the counter and heads out the back door he came through, checking the street before he leaves. Walking fast, but not running, he puts the safety back on the gun and shoves into the back of his trousers, out of sight under his jacket. His breathing is normal but he can feel adrenaline pumping through his system, muscle memory makes him move through the city as if it’s hostile enemy territory.

What the fuck is going on? What was that? Bad batch of some drug on the streets?

As he moves back towards the truck he checks his phone, there’s still no reception. There are more people on the streets now, more cars too, all heading for the freeway. He sees a family hastily throw bags into a car, a cat in a travel cage stuffed into the back. Other cars speed past, full of stuff, people are packing up and leaving. The sight makes him anxious, he needs to do the same, get back home, get to her, and get the fuck out.

Screw the weekend, we need to get the fuck out of the city fast, whatever this is, it’s not gonna be over by Monday.

He finally spots his truck, parked where he left it, the man he’d knocked out nowhere in sight, and no police. Quickly scanning the area for signs of trouble, Frankie crosses the street and gets into the truck. He breathes a sigh of relief when he can lock the door and the engine rumbles to life. He can see traffic lining up on the other side of the park so he takes a side street, mapping the best route back home in his head as he tries to drive as fast as he can, people are running along the streets, cars speeding past and it gets worse the closer to downtown he gets. He tries to skirt around it but as he turns down a side street he finds it blocked by a truck that’s crashed into a building.

“Fuck,” he breathes under his breath, there’s fire under the truck and he can see people on the other side. Quickly he reverses back onto the main street and turns left, heading a few more blocks down. The traffic’s getting heavy and it’s getting harder to avoid getting stuck, up ahead he sees cars grinding to a halt and in a last second decision he pulls a hard right and turns down a narrow alley, he knows it connects to another big road after a couple of blocks but it will get him closer to home at least, almost all the way there if it’s clear. He barrels through the alley, slowing down only to take the sharp turn onto the main road, and speeding up as he sees the way ahead of him clear. The harsh headlights flooding the cabin of his truck is the only warning he has when the bus slams into the passenger side of the truck. The screech of metal and tyres is the last thing Frankie hears as the world outside the shattered windscreen goes spinning and turns to black.

…

Your body is telling you to sleep but you can’t, it’s almost three am and you’re on the couch, with a painful knot in your stomach. There’s sirens wailing outside, close by, and you’ve heard screams of terror and pain throughout the night. Frankie’s baseball bat is next to you on the couch, your hand shoots out to grab it whenever you hear a sound, your nerves on edge, the big kitchen knife on the coffee table. You’ve cried yourself dry with worry, Frankie’s not home, Pope hasn’t arrived either, you feel like you’re all alone in the world and every minute you’re fighting to keep the panic down. Pope’s words, keep strong for me and for Frankie, roll through your brain, it’s all you’ve got to keep you from falling over the edge.

A loud crack rings out somewhere in your building and you shoot up to your feet, it sounded close and it sounded like a gunshot. Straining your ears you try to hear more, but the wailing sirens from outside make it hard to make out anything. Slowly moving closer to the front door, you grip the bat in your hand. You stop in the hall, holding your breath and listen intently in the silence. Suddenly you hear a shoe scuffle against the floor outside your door and you bite down hard on your lip, your heart is thumping so loudly it’s deafening.

A soft tap on the door startles you enough to make you jump back into Frankie’s sneakers on the shoe rack.

“It’s me, Pope, open the door,” Santi’s familiar voice filters low through the front door and you almost cry with relief, stumbling forward to unlock it. He comes through it as soon as it’s open enough to let him in and he immediately closes it behind him, locking and sliding the deadbolt in place. When he turns to you, you throw your arms around him, and you feel him grab hold of you, squeezing you tight as he pulls you into the living room.

“Santi, I’m so scared,” you sob, fighting back tears, as he sets you down on the couch, “what’s happening?”

“I don’t know yet, Frankie isn’t back?” he asks, looking around the living room.

“N-No, I haven’t heard from him since the cell network went down,” tears well up in your eyes, “h-he said, he was coming back here. But that was six hours ago, Santi!” The tears spill over as fear overcomes you and he sits down next to you on the couch, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, gently shushing you.

“Deep breaths, hermana, you need to focus,” he turns you around, putting both hands on your shoulders, squeezing them as his eyes lock onto yours. “Listen, I need you to stay with me now, ok?”

You nod weakly as Pope wipes your cheek with the back of his hand, “We need to pack essentials and get out of here, there’s a couple of dirt bikes in the garage under your building, I’ve got the keys and-”

“I’m not leaving without Frankie,” you say immediately, leaning back from Pope instinctively. “I have to stay here until he comes back.”

“You can’t, it’s not safe, I have to keep you safe while Frankie’s not around,” Pope grabs your shoulders again, as if to press it into you but you baulk.

“If I leave, with the phones down, he won’t find me. He said he was coming back here and I said I’d stay until he came back,” you pull away from Pope and stand up, moving to the window to look down on the street again.

“Hermana, you haven’t seen the city, it’s chaos,” he’s stands up and comes after you, grabbing hold of your arm, “I don’t know what’s going on but people are unhinged, losing control and attacking each other,” his grip on your arm loosens a little but he’s turning you to look at him, “I don’t want to scare you more, but it’s bad out there, people are dying.” He falters, hesitating for a few seconds, “I’m sorry, this isn’t going away anytime soon, and Frankie might not make it back.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t fucking say that!” You feel panic rising in your chest and you push him away.

“I saw a woman…she was…she killed a child, it’s that bad out there,” Santi grabs you again, a pained look on his face, pleading, “I’m sorry, Frankie is a very capable soldier, one of the best, but it took all I had to make it here.”

You pull your arm from his hand, “He’s coming back here, I’m not leaving without him,” you spit out and step back into the living room, crossing your arms as you turn back to Pope, he’s looking at you from the window.

“I can’t leave you here, Frankie’s my best friend, my brother, and you’re the love of his life, I’ve got to keep you safe. For him, hermana.” He’s pleading with you but you shake your head even as tears well up in your eyes again.

“If you want to help Frankie, get to Lucía. Take one of the dirt bikes, get her and we’ll meet you at Denny’s cabin.” You’re staring at him, your jaw set, you know Pope can’t argue with that and he has no choice. As he drops his chin to his chest you know you’ve got your way.

“Ok,” he sighs, “I’ll go and get Lucía, but you have to promise me that if Frankie’s not back by Sunday morning, you take the other bike and come up to the cabin too,” he’s walked over to you again, looking down at you with dark eyes, “if he’s not back by Sunday morning, he’s not coming back. Take the bike, get to the cabin.”

“He’s coming back, Santi.”

“I really want you to be right, hermana,” he sighs as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. You slump against him, you can feel your body shaking with the onslaught of nerves and adrenaline.

“He has to come back,” you whisper into his chest, “he has to, he has to, he has to,” you repeat as a mantra as Pope gently strokes your back.

You don’t notice when Pope carefully lays you down in your bed, pulling the blanket over you. Your exhausted body and mind shuts down for a few hours and lets you sleep without dreams. When you wake with a start, daylight is starting to creep through your window, and for a second it feels like a normal morning, until you see Frankie’s side of the bed, empty.

You push back the blanket and make your way out to the living room to find Santi on the couch, two guns and a rifle laid out in front of him.

“Morning,” he says, looking up at you. “I hope you managed to sleep some.”

You sit down next to him on the couch, watching his methodical movements with the weapons, “Did you sleep at all?”

“No, I kept watch, but it’s fine,” he adds as he sees your concerned look, “I’m still running on adrenaline and I’m used to it. Pulled plenty of all nighters in the army.”

“Did anything happen while I slept?” You move to the kitchen and open the fridge to pull out some breakfast, the inside of the fridge is dark.

“The electricity and the military phone network cut out about an hour ago,” Pope nods at the fridge. “Eat whatever might go bad first.” He stands up and grabs a backpack, you recognise it as Frankie’s spare one. “I’ve packed enough to keep me going for a few days, and I’ve done the same for you and Frankie,” he points to a bigger backpack, Frankie’s hiking pack. “I’m gonna try to get to Lucía now, you and Frankie head to the cabin as soon as possible. Get out of the city, that’ll be Frankie’s plan too.”

He comes over to you where you’re standing by the kitchen counter, frozen in your movements. “Remember what I said last night, hermana, I’m sorry, but if he’s not back by Sunday morning…” he pauses and grabs hold of your hand, squeezing it tight, “if he’s not back, you have to leave by yourself and get to the cabin. Promise me,” his dark eyes are bearing into you as his fingers wrap around your own.

“I promise, I’ll leave if he’s not back by Sunday morning,” you say, your voice barely over a whisper.

“Ok,” he gives your hand another squeeze and goes back to Frankie’s backpack. “I’m leaving a gun with you, and some ammo, it’s in the pack,” he shows you the boxes in an outside pocket. “This is your gun,” he picks up one of the handguns on the coffee table, “it’s easy enough to handle, I’ll show you.”

“Where did you get them?” you ask, “did you just happen to have two guns and a rifle on you yesterday?”

“No, I didn’t,” Santi looks at you, “I broke into a gunshop and took them.” He sees the way your eyes widen and holds up his hand, “Look out of the window, the world is falling apart, I don’t know what is happening, but looting three guns to protect myself and you, is the least of our worries right now.” He picks up the gun and motions you over and shows you how to hold it, “Grab it like this, both hands, keep it steady.”

The gun is heavy and cold in your hands, “You really think the world is falling apart?” Your voice is quiet as you adjust your grip as Pope moves your fingers.

“The first thing I heard yesterday was that something was going on in Indonesia, then Rotterdam. Here, put your thumb like this.” He moves your thumb to cross over your hand, “then there were news reports from all over the US. And if things are as bad there as they are here, then yeah, I think the world is falling apart.”

He steps back and looks at your grip on the gun, “That’s it, hold it like that and squeeze the trigger when you’re ready.”

You pull back on the trigger and the gun clicks. “So we get to the cabin and then what?” you ask, looking down the barrel of the gun, feeling the weight.

“We hold down the fort, wait it out, until it’s under control again.” Pope gently takes the gun from your hands and shows you how to load it, making you go through the motions several times. When he decides you’ve got a hang of it, he takes the gun and gives it to you, “Safety on, keep it within easy reach. I should’ve gotten you a holster but stick it in the back of your pants for now, keep it on you at all times, ok?”

“Ok,” you nod, doing as he says before looking up at him. “Do you think the others, Will and Benny, will come up to the cabin too?”

“If they can, yeah, it’s the most logical choice.”

He turns and grabs the smaller backpack and his jacket, “I’m leaving, I’ll get to Lucía, get her and her mom, if I can, back to the cabin. Sunday morning, ok?”

“Sunday morning I leave if he’s not back, yes, Santi.” You nod, your jaw tight.

“Ok. And listen, when you do leave, with or without Frankie, don’t trust anyone. People are attacking without warning, like animals.” Pope’s eyes are on you, imploring you to understand, “Anyone moves towards you, shoot them, aim for the torso to bring them down, then head shot, to kill. I know it’s not going to be easy, but if you want to survive, you have to. Get to the cabin, I’ll be there.” He pulls you in for a big hug, squeezing you tight and you hold on to him for as long as you can before he pulls away.

“Stay safe, Santi.”

“You too, hermana.”

You walk him to the front door and watch him as he listens through it for a couple a minute, the landing outside is silent. Carefully he opens the door, gun drawn, and peeks outside. Daylight is filtering through the windows, shining some light into the stairwell. With a final look at you he steps through the door and you close it behind him, locking it securely again.

Walking back to the living room, you sit down on the couch. Twenty four hours until Sunday morning.

All you can do now is wait.

Chapter 12

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales angst #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #santiago garcia #the pilot and his girl #tlou fanfiction #tlou fandom

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blog-name-idk · 2 years

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Everything Falls (Into Place) | Masterlist

Banner by the lovely @bangtansmauyeondan!

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 90,211

Rating: 18+

I'm currently figuring out this whole tumblr thing but you can also read this fic in its current entirety (31/31) on my AO3!

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18 | Ch 19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch 22 | Ch 23 | Ch 24 | Ch 25 | Ch 26 | Ch 27 | Ch 28 | Ch 29 | Ch 30 | Ch 31

Extras: Jin | Hobi

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts ot7 x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader

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officialtwistedfandub · 3 days

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youtube

ITS HERE! 🎉🖤 BOOK 1, CH 26-28 are available now on our YouTube channel! Join us for Epel's birthday on May 6th, and Heartslabyul Uniform vignettes on May 12th!

Previous upload / Main story playlist

#twisted wonderland #twst #fandub #voice acting #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland official fandub #dub #youtube

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svsss-fanon-exposed · 4 months

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Examining SVSSS Canon: 1/∞

SHEN YUAN'S PIDW-READING TIMELINE

One question and argument that comes up frequently in SVSSS fandom is, how long did Shen Yuan read PIDW for? Was he following it from early serialization, or did he simply binge everything toward the end?

This question isn't exactly one that is easy to answer either-- considering that there are actually various direct quotes that could be read in contradiction to one another regarding it.

Based on the information in the novel, we are left with several potential theories as to Shen Yuan's reading timeline. In this post, I will be presenting these theories, along with supporting evidence from the novel.

Theory #1: Shen Yuan picked up PIDW and binge-read it from beginning to end for the first time in 20 days before dying

This theory is directly supported with a quote:

He’d spent twenty days binging the novel from start to finish, so he had clean forgotten that whump-filled arc of pointless abuse that covered Luo Binghe’s beginnings at the sect, okay?! (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

In the original text, this line is 他可是看了二十天才看完的. Broken down, this is literally "he indeed read it (他可是看了), it took him twenty days (二十天才）to read the whole [novel] (看完的)."

*note 可是 may also be equivalent to "however" or "but" in some circumstances, but is generally used to provide emphasis.

However, depending on where one puts the emphasis and pairs syllables in the last part, there could be different interpretations. If read as 看完的 it implies "read the entire thing," but if read as 看完的，it implies "finished reading." I read it the first way, but I don't know if that is the "most correct," so there is some ambiguity there.

It is also implied later that PIDW was already very long and full of plot holes when he began reading it:

So, if back when he’d just opened this baffling book, this Proud Immortal Demon Way, which was so full of landmines that it was practically high art, to the point that those landmines had become its very style... He would definitely have grabbed the brick that was the entire fifty-volume set and showed them what their brains looked like when splattered across the ground. (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

Though this could be related to the final length of the novel, and the "fifty-volume set" is likely exaggeration or metaphor. In one of his forum posts, he also says:

I understand what OP is feeling. I’ve been reading this novel lately, and it’s so damn long—long and pumped full of filler... ...All my fellow readers have already roasted the setting for the last three hundred thousand words, so I won’t say more on that. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

This part where he says he has been reading the novel lately, implies that he began not too long ago, rather than following it for years. Of course, Airplane already at this point finds his username and comments familiar:

His eyes automatically highlighted that familiar ID “Peerless Cucumber.” (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

So it could also be said that he is downplaying his dedication with that statement. He does, however, state that the other readers have roasted the setting, but doesn't mention that he himself has done so. Additionally, the "three-hundred thousand words" mentioned may refer to the comment section, not the novel itself, so there is still some ambiguity to that point.

Theory #2: Shen Yuan has been reading PIDW long-term throughout serialization

There are multiple quotes directly supporting this theory:

He could guarantee it on all the youth and frustrations he’d wasted following this twenty-million-word-plus serialization for years. (7 Seas, Ch. 6)

and

Everything that had happened before was as unto smoke. From today forth, as he walked the jianghu, he would use this ID, which had been plastered all over the comments section for years. (7 Seas, Ch. 9)

The second quote may refer to comments sections on Zhongdian literature in general, but the first one is more directly referring to PIDW. There is a slim but unlikely possibility that he referrs to the years he has spent within the PIDW universe, rather than just reading the novel. That possibility is made even less likely by the following quote:

Next, let a veteran reader of this novel, Shen Yuan, omit the countless fanservice-y details and concisely summarize the million-word epic for everyone… (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Where it refers to him as a veteran reader of PIDW specifically (and this TL is consistent with the original implications). It's unlikely for him to be referred to as a veteran reader if he had only been reading the novel for twenty days.

As one can see, if you go by either of the above theories, there are direct conflicts and contradictions, and arguments to be made either way. This could be written off as inconsistency. However, there are two additional options and theories which can resolve those conflicts.

Theory #3: Shen Yuan had been a casual reader of PIDW for years, but rushed to finish reading it through to the end in 20 days

One possibility is that Shen Yuan had been reading PIDW casually over several years, but wasn't caught up by the time his death drew near. Shen Yuan's cause of death is a matter for another post, so I won't discuss it here, but the following quote lends some support to this reading:

“Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel!” With his dying breath, Shen Yuan spat this final curse. Who could have imagined that an upstanding young man like him—who had properly purchased the website’s VIP currency and read the novel’s official version—would find himself persevering before his untimely death to finish a novel so stallion, so money-grubbing and overly padded, that it left him speechless with rage? How could he not curse? (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Here, it seems that Shen Yuan may have been aware of his upcoming death, and so he may have wanted to hurry and finish reading the novel before he died. In the original text, the phrase is: 临终之前坚持看完的, which can be broken down as "before his untimely/sudden death (临终之前), he persisted to finish reading [the novel] (坚持看完的）, though this may also be read as "he persisted in reading the entire novel," depending on how one puts emphasis in the sentence (same issue as the first quote in theory 1). 临终 means literally "near the end," but is a term for death or one's deathbed. Another way to translate 临终之前 would be "before meeting his end."

So, because he was persisting/persevering in finishing the novel (either the whole thing or just to the end), it may be that he expected his incoming death, or that he simply wished to persist in reading the novel to its end and his death still occured unexpectedly.

坚持 implies some level of urgency or steadfastness, but it may not refer to reading the novel quickly, but simply dedication to slogging through all of the bad porn and reading it to the end, rendering this theory a bit shaky.

Theory #4: Shen Yuan had been reading PIDW since early serialization, but re-read the entire thing in the 20 days before his death

This theory would resolve all potential conflicts-- making it true that he both followed PIDW's serialization for years and read the whole novel in 20 days. As to why he re-read the full novel, perhaps it was because the final chapter had been posted or was coming up, and he wished to reread from the start in preparation for that-- this could also drive him into an even greater rage about the contents of the novel and how repetitive and filler-heavy it is, as this would become more and more obvious on a binge-reread from start to end.

One weakness in this theory, though (pointed out by @verycharismaticdragon) is that if he read it twice, it would be less likely for him to completely forget details as mentioned in the first quote. Not entirely impossible-- one can still forget details even after multiple read-throughs, but just less likely to completely forget.

Theory #5: When Shen Yuan began reading PIDW, he binged all available chapters in twenty days, before following it consistently afterwards.

(theory courtesy of @verycharismaticdragon)

While this would not be particularly likely if the quote from theory 1 and the quote from theory 3 were linked together, those two quotes don't necessarily have to be linked-- it's possible that Shen Yuan would have binged the entire novel as it was at the time he found it in twenty days, then decided to continue reading as it updated, persisting and persevering because he wanted to reach the end despite the novel's trashiness, and then ended up dying.

Particularly, this makes a lot of sense in the context of the following quote:

Even though this famous Lord Cucumber spewed criticism constantly and without end in “Great Master” Airplane’s comments sections, his subscription payments and demands for updates never waned. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

If Shen Yuan hadn't been caught up with the novel (as theory 3 would state) then it wouldn't make quite so much sense for him to be demanding updates, and if he hadn't been reading it for even a full month, there was no reason for him to make consistent subscription payments.

*******

Ultimately, which theory you choose to believe depends somewhat on the way you view canon-- whether the seemingly contradicting statements were intentional, or whether they were merely a consistency error.

These are the only theories that I can think of, but feel free to add any additional theories + support quotes and analysis if you have them!

One final note, in regards to WHEN DID SHEN YUAN START READING?

If it's true that Shen Yuan began reading PIDW earlier in serialization, how early was that point? Was he reading it from the beginning, or did he start later?

I personally believe it was later. Though he says he was following the novel for years, that could mean anywhere from two to four years since the total serialization of PIDW took place over four years:

How could someone who’d cursed “dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel” remember ancient content from the beginning of a serialized novel that had been running for four years and covered an in-narrative span of two hundred years? (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

While it's hard to place exactly when he started reading, it seems that Shen Yuan began to read PIDW before the Immortal Alliance Conference arc, as he discusses the novel's online performance before that point:

Before this event, Proud Immortal Demon Way’s performance online had been steadfastly lukewarm. But once the Immortal Alliance Conference Arc debuted, the reviews, comments, subscriptions, and tips all soared into the heavens. It wasn’t only because from that point forward, “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky abandoned the last of his already minimal moral principles... there was another important “it” factor. It was, in fact, the main element that had first compelled Shen Qingqiu to follow the novel until the end. The demonic beasts! (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

It also seems that he wasn't entirely dedicated to reading the novel before then. However, he may have caught up with the serialization a bit later-- for example, if he started reading just before the conference, he would have known that it was a little-known novel before, and been able to watch the rise in popularity in real time even if he himself hadn't caught up to the conference just yet, before only deciding to dedicate to reading the full novel once he caught up to that part.

There are many possibilities and uncertainties in regards to Shen Yuan's reading timeline, but I do think there is enough information here to form decently solid theories-- so I will leave it to my readers to decide, now that the information has been presented, which ones they think are most likely and which they wish to use in their analysis.

#canon examined #svsss #shen yuan #pidw #super interested to see the debate on this post #i know i didn't include every single quote #but i did try to get the most relevant ones #i can't definitively say my chosen theory is the be all end all correct one since it depends so much on reader opinion re: consistency #but hopefully people can decide for themselves what fits best #anyway-- new post type debut!#updated

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 1 year

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SUMMARY: The year was 2014. With the marriage of Satoru Gojo and Hannah Thames made official, the first of its kind, a bridge had finally been established. Relations between the Jujutsu and Western factions practically improved overnight, bringing hope that Ryomen Sukuna would be exorcized at long last, but things are never that simple. (An AU where Satoru survives the Culling Game.)

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

Ch 1: The Wedding

Ch 2: Meetings and Mishaps

Ch 3: The King of Curses

Ch 4: Through Many Dangers, Toils, and Snares

Ch 5: The Strongest

Ch 6: The Siren

Ch 7: A Moment of Grace, A Thread of Enlightenment

Ch 8: After the Rain, Earth Hardens

Ch 9: We Are But Flesh and Bone

Ch 10: There Is No Easy Way To Learning

Ch 11: Laborare Est Orare

Ch 12: Tomoe’s Warning

Ch 13: Fear No Danger To Ensue

Ch 14: Into The Belly of the Beast

Ch 15: The Only Way Out Is Through (I)

Ch 16: The Only Way Out Is Through (II)

Ch 17: Reconciled

Ch 18: Fighting the Inevitable

Ch 19: Duch and Butch

Ch 20: A Heart to Heart

Ch 21: Life’s Tiny Victories

Ch 22: The Nature of Bees

Ch 23: Great Courage Is Righteous Anger

Ch 24: Kumari’s Appraisal & Armaments

Ch 25: The Road To A Friend’s House Is Never Long

Ch 26: The Harp

Ch 27: Hiding In Plain Sight

Ch 28: A Burden Shared Is A Burden Halved

Ch 29: Resolution

Ch 30: One Flesh (Rated E)

Oneshots

Sticks and Stones

A Girls’ Night Out

津美紀 (Tsumiki)

真希 (Maki)

The Blindfold

#Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk #呪術廻戦 #satoru gojo #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #satoru x oc #gojo x oc #fanfiction #arranged marriage #romance #Gojo Takes a Wife

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kiliinstinct · 3 months

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Chapter 26:

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next]

Next update is Upon us! Thanks to @phoenix-before-the-flame for their awesome Beta work, as usual. Next Update: February 12th February Post Dates: 26th March Post Dates: 15th and the 28th (Yes, my Birthday!) Warning: The beginning of this chapter contains sensitive material in violence, blood and gruesome visuals. You've been warned.

---

Dark fire consumed the world. Its raging swirl lifted off Natsu’s scaled skin, twisted from his claws and burned the smokey air around him. Dirt encrusted his gaping wounds as he stood before Kage. The man staggered on his feet as ash covered him from head to toe.

Their battle was intense. Lucy had disappeared into the forest at the Draconis’ command. Her safety was top priority (the only priority his mind hissed furiously-). Those thoughts governed his frame of thought as he weaved in and out of the scorched landscape, cutting the shadow users' attempts to flee at every turn.

He had threatened Lucy: a mistake he would soon regret.

The fight spread with fire devouring trees as their blood soaked the ground with streaks of red. Howls of anger left the pair to be swallowed in the empty sky. The only source of light came from an orange moon that mirrored the heat of Natsu’s magic. A part of Natsu knew something wasn't right, but there was no time to question it. No time to stop and look.

There was only his prey who whimpered as he was cornered and lifting a shaking arm in a desperate try to defend himself. His control over shadows sputtered out to reveal the frightened man he truly was. Natsu purred, pleased by the scent of fear and stepped forward. An all-consuming need pulled at the core of his being, demanding to rip out the throat of his prey and to feel the final screams of Kage’s life cut out as teeth and flames tasted his wretched flesh.

He wanted - no, needed - to leave him as nothing but a rotting, burnt corpse on the dying forest floor. The thought sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

There was no one else to fight, no one to defend Lucy and keep her from harm. Natsu had no choice. He HAD to do this.

To himself, he chanted this reasoning like a mantra as he grasped Kage’s neck with a taloned hand. Kage’s desperate scratching and pulling against his forearm meant nothing as the Draconis’ eyes bled to gold, staring coldly into the Shadow users streaming eyes. Natsu had already made peace with what came next, before he had a second to think about it.

His vision tunneled and the world faded away, there was nothing left but the slowly dying struggles of the body beneath him. For it was no longer a body full of life and an unknown future. It was a corpse. It was always fated to be a corpse.

Corpses don’t deserve pity.

He finally had him.

Tongue lashed out over rows of sharp teeth, tasting the tang of his own blood as a triumphant grin twisted his lips. Bordering on the edge of madness, he watched as Kage’s shadows peeled from Natsu’s skin in burnt husks, crawling off his wounded flesh. Whimpering, the corpse’s skin cracked and broke under the onslaught of the mighty flame Natsu wielded and his grip tightened, marveling at the sight.

A rumble of satisfaction ran through him as the smell tainted the air. His fire ate away at the one before him with each pulse of magic in his palm, a slow, excruciating death. He wanted it to be quick at first, but no, this mongrel deserved no mercy and he gleefully watched as even Kage’s blood over heated, sizzling away to nothing.

His body hung limp in Natsu’s steady grasp and the Draconis wondered if he’d succumbed to the slow death too soon. Or had his crushing grip choked the life from him? He flexed his fingers, feeling the bones shift beneath him: broken. A hoarse, mad laugh burst through his chest as he felt more splinter in his grip.

The body became nothing. Just the dust in the wind. The ash in the air. The crushed earth beneath his feet. His lips curled into a sneer and he felt triumph. This is what he deserved! This was the power he held for those who wronged him this-

He blinked and the mangled body beneath him twisted. The edges of his vision swam in and out of focus. The broken bones and murky shadows faded to a mangled body, scorched nearly beyond recognition and lumped over the ground in a familiar pose that brought memories of a golden girl back to the surface.

Blinking again, screwing his eyes shut tight, Natsu reopened them and realized this wasn’t Kage.

It was the unnamed man he'd followed into the forest all those months ago. A man who imprisoned a golden haired girl and forced himself upon her.

Another despicable wretch that deserved the fate given to them. He dropped into a crouch to peer into the burnt out sockets. This was a man whose face he never knew and whose death tasted sweet on Natsu’s tongue. He threw his head back in a laugh so loud it broke through the haze, manic and crazed.

There was no remorse, no guilt, no horror.

“It's what you deserve!” He cackled, forked tongue swiping against his teeth. The fangs gleamed in the moonlight, it's orange glow fading to cold white light, “It's what you ALL deserve, disgusting pieces of -“

A whimper- quiet, pained and wracked with sobs pierced the air. It blew through the smoke and fire and sent a chill of ice water through his veins.

The once wicked laugh cut off as pupils grew wide. Natsu jumped to his feet as a creeping, dismal fear coiled around his heart. It gripped so tight he lost his breath. Looking away from the carnage, his glory, his reality came crashing down in sharp, jagged pieces.

He met his gaze with Lucy who stood at the edge of the clearing, hands clasped over her mouth.

She was ragged. Clutching the tree for purchase, Lucy gasped for air making his heart sink at the sight. A rotted arrow stayed buried in her knee as blood dribbled down her leg. Her clothes were torn, burnt at the edges and crusted in mud. Whimpering again, his attention turned back to her face as she grimaced in pain, paling to match the white of the moon above.

The smoke was gone- blown away with a sudden wind as the moonlight illuminated the world around them. He no longer smelled the stench of one or two corpses. Instead, the scent of many crashed into him like a raging avalanche.

There were dozens. Bodies broken and contorted, all staring at him with the glassy, empty eyes of the long dead. Lucy quivered as she beheld the massacre and retched at the sight. His throat swelled shut, eyes stinging with hot, horrified tears that threatened to spill down his heated cheeks.

What had he done? He didn’t- He couldn’t remember.

”Wait.- Lucy, I didn't- “ He reached for her, voice turning to the hoarse whisper of a man whose wounds were catching up with him; Blood welled in his throat. Stepping towards her, he tripped over a dismembered arm, ”I was protecting you-“

She didn't see him. Not really. Her gaze looked around them, through Natsu. The horror and disgust that distinguished her features was palpable. She whispered words that struck him as sharp as the arrow that pierced her skin.

She stepped back. Away from him. Closer to the shadows of the trees.

“You're a monster... you killed them. You...”

“Lucy please-”

Her shriek pinned him to the ground heavier than stone:

“G-GET AWAY FROM ME!”

She took off through the underbrush, her golden light swallowed quickly by the shadows. Natsu struggled to follow, but he couldn’t stand, his legs wouldn’t move.

He was tired. Everything hurt. Where did this pain come from? His body quivered as he attempted to stand, but he slipped against the bodies, eviscerated beyond recognition. The stench rose to greet him, making him dizzy with nausea.

He choked on his own bile, reaching out in vain, “I didn't want... I'm -”

Blood welled in his mouth and he spat it out, only for it to refill in an instant. His neck felt sticky as red dripped down his neck and heaving chest. His wounds were fatal. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe -

“Wait!” He struggled to scream, “No, come back! Don’t leave me! I'm sor-“

He needed to get to her. He had to. He needed-

“Lucy!”

The world tilted on its axis as her name echoed through the air as his final breath took him under the weight of all his sins.

Natsu crashed to the floor of his bedroom, gasping for air as tears flowed down his cheeks. Everything hurt, his body sang from nerves firing along the scars of his back and he winced as he bit his cheeks in a poor attempt to silence himself.

His head pounded behind his eyelids. Whining pathetically, his sobs wracked through Natsu's frame, unbidden and unwanted. Pain flared in his chest, reigniting the raw feeling in his throat, but he didn’t dare move himself to the comfort of his bed. Instead he curled in on himself, quivering against the floor as it chilled his heated skin.

The clear floors that remained from Lucy’s insistent cleaning provided a strange solace and he sought to ground himself through it. He almost wished he could sink into it and be swallowed to get away from the emotions welling in his chest. But there was no escaping into the night to sleep in another's bed, no checking on the safety of someone else. There was just pain tearing through his healing body and stabbing into his bottom lip as he struggled to contain himself.

Lucy... that look in her eye, he tried to blot the visual from his mind; to think of anything else that would ease the frantic pounding of his heart. But that expression morphed from its former horror, to the pained smile she gave in a different dream he tried to bury in his memories: The sad understanding as he'd run her through with his own hands.

Did they mean something? Natsu wiped his eyes and groaned, not wanting to know the answer. If anything, he'd rather not think about any of it.

He didn't know how long he laid there, but as time passed and he gained control of his breathing, he grew aware of the chirping birds and bugs outside his window, almost drowned out by the loud snores of his current watchguard. Right...It was Elfman’s turn. The draconis felt a twinge of relief at the larger man’s deep sleep. Him resting through Natsu’s night terrors was a blessing.

But these were clear signs of daylight. Had he slept all night, or napped during the day? He wasn't altogether sure, feeling disoriented and unaware of the passage of time. He could shamble to his door and ask, but that required energy he didn’t have.

Not now, when the floor felt so nice. Sucking in air, he blindly reached for the blankets on his bed and tugged them over his body. This would be his bed for now.

Somehow, the hard surface felt more comforting than anything else.

It would be hours more before Mirajane came with his lunch, confused by his position on the floor, but having the mind not to press him for details when he peeked tiredly from his blanket nest with red rimmed eyes. Instead, she opened the door for Wendy to follow after and left a warm-cooked meal upon the table.

“We think it's time to start using those muscles!“ She excitedly explained, smiling gently as Wendy observed him from the floor, the concern obvious on her young face. ”We can't let those limbs stiffen too much after all.“

”... am I free to leave then?“ He rasped, barely registering Wendy's light touch along his bandages, soft magic poking and prodding along his body for any sign of issues.

”Aunt Porly wants to see you first before deciding,“ The Air Draconis whispered, leaning close to check his temperature. She gripped his jaw gently and tilted his head to press a finger against the bandage wrapped around his neck. He shuddered as the healing magic flowed from her fingertip, sinking into the one wound that refused to close properly.

Natsu opened his mouth and Wendy peered at the sides, squeaking at the sight. The bits of flesh he’d bitten when he woke revealed more than he wanted to admit. She pressed her full hand to the side of his neck and sent out another wave, stronger this time, to hook and close whatever he had reopened internally. He fought the urge to shy away, beginning to really hate having anything close to his neck.

Wendy sighed and pulled away, lips pursed tight together, “But Makarov at least wants you to go on walks now.“

”... what am I, a cat?“

”Yes/Cats Don't go on walks!“ Mirajane and Wendy spoke at once, one all smiles and the other quite bewildered.

“Huh...” Natsu drawled distractedly, biting his raw lip in thought, “... what did I mean then."

Mirajane, ushered him to his feet, brows knitted together as she looked him over. She answered with a helpful smile that didn't meet her eyes. “I think a dog, dear.”

“Are you……okay?” Wendy asked once he sat down, hovering from side to side as she continued to check his vitals, “Everything looks to be healing fine despite a few small issues. And your aura's getting stronger each day, but you... you feel off?”

“Nah, m'fine.” The lie fell from him with practiced ease as he eyed the meal placed before him. Mirajane's cooking never failed to impress and today's lunch did not disappoint just from looks alone. The smell was heavenly and almost washed all his concerns away in an instant, giving Natsu the perfect excuse to dodge the rest of Wendy's questions, “Just hungry!”

Diving into a hot meal rather than talk about his woes was as simple as breathing and he dutifully ignored the shared looks passed between the two over his shoulder.

But if Natsu wasn't willing to talk, they knew better than to press him. Instead, Mirajane remade his bed, ruffled his pillows and tittered about cleaning his dishes while Wendy continued her check up. Something about the domesticity of the scene settled in Natsu's bones like a heavy weight. What was once a source of comfort among his family felt strangely off, as if he was missing something.

A flash of golden hair appeared in his mind's eye and he spoke with a mouth full of soup, swallowing the hot liquid when he only managed garbled words.

”Is Lucy coming today?” She did say she would join the rotation, but it had been days since he'd last seen her. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was starting to wonder if their last encounter had scared her off.

Then again…

He felt the ghost of soft lips feather against his cheek. She was so close then, barely any space between them as her scent surrounded him, calming his racing heart. His fingers tangled with hers, so small in his grasp as he tugged her close. And yet he felt the inexplicable urge to have her closer still-

He choked on nothing and began to eat in earnest. Nope. Nothing was happening or happened. Best not to think about it.

“Uhm.. maybe?“ Wendy hedged, pursing her lips together in thought, ”I wasn't told who was decided today, erm...”

Mirajane's following laughter made a sense of danger crawl up Natsu's spine. “It's so cute how often you think about her.” And her following giggle had him choking all over again.

“I think about a lot of people!” His protests went ignored as Mirajane's giggles grew in volume. As he waited in consternation for an answer, he drank the rest of the soup without further prompting and frowned. At the same time, the taller woman finished her cleaning, placing a now dried mug back on its shelf.

“She spent time with Levy and Cana yesterday,” She finally answered, eyes sliding along the walls of the room before landing on Natsu's scowl. Without further prompting, she grabbed a rag and moved to wipe his face, ignoring his protests. She hummed quietly, “but I think she mentioned something about taking a shift this evening with you.”

Natsu didn't have a chance to respond as Wendy interrupted with a poke to his ribs that sent his nerves firing a jolt of magic through his body. A streak of fire flashed atop his skin in a brief instant, forcing the pair to step back when he yelped. She retracted her hand and ran soothing air across his heated skin instead, allowing the waves of healing magic to soothe him from head to toe.

“Sorry!” She explained through her bottom lip quivering, ”I just wanted to test how sensitive it still was. If it's still like this tomorrow, Aunt Porly might not let you walk like we've planned.“

That was news the draconis didn't like, as he snorted a puff of smoke and flame through his nose to show his disdain. So what if his body wasn't still up to snuff? His magic was responding to him instinctively again and the two healer draconis weren't so amateurish with their abilities. Despite the need to still recuperate, he doubted a walk along the paths would over extend him that much.

“If she doesn't want me burning down my own hut,” He threatened darkly. Annoyance made him curl his lip. “she better let me out.”

“None of that,” Mirajane chided with a light smack to the back of his head. It wasn't enough to hurt, but his head rang all the same, “you're too old for tantrums and none of us have space for you anymore.”

“I can sleep outside!”

”Please don't,“ Wendy pleaded, ”besides, how can Lucy visit if she doesn't have a place to go?“ They both fixed him with pointed, knowing stares.

He didn't quite like the way the two of them were using Lucy as a way to calm him. And he especially didn't like it when he realized it was working. Not only had his shoulders dropped, his breathing had gone back to normal. The realization was enough to make him pout as he crossed his arms.

”I don't really know how, but you two are being unfair,“ he accused, perplexed when they laughed, “And I don't like it.”

Despite the claim, Natsu realized the teasing barbs served a purpose aside from raising his ire. Not only did his mind settle from his errant thoughts, but his mood rose to positive levels that made it easier to think. Despite the chill of his nightmare hovering behind him, he didn't feel the grip of his sharp claws, nor did it distract him for the rest of the afternoon.

Wendy made quick work checking his vitals and testing his flexibility, muscle tension and reflexes. By the time he was ready to throw a pillow or two at her and Mirajane for their teasing, she finished her tedious work, doused him in another wave of healing magic that settled over his eyes like sleeping sand and exited with a promise to see him in the morning. She'd bring Porlyusica along then, and just the reminder of finally being allowed out of his house invigorated him.

Mirajane, however, stayed longer, ensuring he rested as the healing worked its magic. He managed to sleep in his bed, listening to Mirajane lull him to rest with a song on her tongue. It reminded him of simpler times when he was younger, ill or frightened by the new world around him.

A simple comfort. One that was the safety of his own home. He fell into a-thankfully- dreamless sleep and woke when dinner was brought along and Mirajane switched off for the day.

His body felt like a stone when he awoke, still under the influence of Wendy's magic, but he caught Mirajane on her way out, promising with a nod of his head to finish the meal she'd left him once he was able to move. He was surprised to catch the scent of Laxus in the air when she opened his door, her voice rose an octave in surprise as she greeted her partner on the street. He strained his ears to catch their conversation and frowned when it was too jumbled by village chatter to make sense.

However, that distraction led him to miss something and the moment Lucy's scent hit his nose he froze, realizing too late who Mirajane's replacement was.

”You must really be out of it to have missed me coming in.“ His friend chided when she closed the door behind her. Her voice carried a soft, amused lilt, ”did you sleep well?“

Tongue-tied, he reworked his jaw to jostle the sleep from his bones, body heating at the sight of her.

”You're here.“ He lamely said, voice a confused monotone.

”I was able to make time today.“ Her eyes softened as she nudged his shoulder, ”Come on, you need to eat, I could hear your stomach rumbling while you napped.”

He wanted to call her out for an obvious lie. No way that had happened after all, but the smell of the food, Lucy's warm grin and the way she fluidly moved through his room left him far too comfortable to argue. In a matter of minutes he'd shuffled from his bed and returned to his earlier seat, feeling like his life had shrunk to doing the same two things since he was injured.

Unfortunately, though his stomach rumbled at the bowl before him, another part of him was mildly annoyed; it was the exact same dish he’d had before. With his throat damaged as it was, he was placed on a diet of liquids only; the current dishes of thicker stews being a step up from where he’d started as Wendy’s healing magic patched his damaged vocal cords a little more each day. He should be thankful, he knew, but the dish choices were beginning to be too repetitive for his taste.

And even as he dutifully ate his fill each day he was still gnawed by hunger after each meal. How he longed for a thick cut of meat or a fresh caught fish roasted by his own hand….

Which led him to his current actions as he reached across the table to grab the parchment he’d written on days ago, carefully stacked together in case he needed to write yet again. He swept the blank ones aside, and eyed the old ones with a curious glance before his gaze settled on the nearby candle Mirajane had left lit on the table.

Perfect.

Lucy hardly paid him mind as she sat across from him, instead rummaging through her bag to find whatever it was that she needed. Another inkwell perhaps, the one she had left with him was near empty after their last encounter.

She didn’t notice when his fingers wrapped around the waxy pillar, staring intently- hungrily- at the little flame that flickered atop it. Natsu smirked, pushing it over with a single finger.

He intently watched the little fire as it grew, slowly eating through the messily scrawled pages, curling in on themselves as they fed the heat that licked across them. His mouth watered at the sight and his stomach rumbled.

When the crackle of burning parchment met her ears, Lucy squealed in surprise, flying to her feet. Her bag clunked to the floor as ink splattered from a half opened bottle, leaking out against the floor. Whoops. Guess she’d have to bring another replacement for that one, too.

Lucy paid it no mind, hurried rushing to his small kitchenette to frantically fill a glass with water, “Are you TRYING to set your house on fire?!”

He didn’t bother telling her of his earlier conversation with Wendy and Mira, but chuckled at the reminder. Letting the fire travel higher still, he licked his lips and held a hand out to Lucy before she could douse the parchment with the cup she’d filled. His mouth opened wide, fangs glinting sharply as his tongue reached out to taste the lingering ash and embers of the paper before he stuffed the flames, stack and all, into his mouth and swallowed it down.

The effect was instant, his body humming from the addition to his magic as his chest rumbled in appreciation. “That hit the spot! Way better than boring soup anyway-”

Water splashed against him as Lucy slammed the mug on the table, frantically grabbing at his jaw as she pried his mouth open, “Oi- Usshie ,stawp-!”

“What is wrong with you?!” She cried out, panicking, she searched the inside of his mouth for any signs of burns and grimaced as ashy breath blew in her face, “ugh, I can’t believe you’d just… are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Natsu wrenched himself from her grasp, rubbing at his jaw in pain as he watched her in consternation, “What's wrong with me?” He repeated, coughing lightly despite the warmth that flooded his limbs, “What’s wrong with you? I do that all the -”

He paused, eyes widening in realization, “Oh shit, I’ve never eaten fire in front ya’ before have I?”

Lucy gawked, “That’s normal?”

“Oops,” He muttered, laughing sheepishly, “Uh yeah. Draconis thing. Can eat the element we’re attuned with: tastes pretty good actually. Even Wendy and Porly can do it.”

He couldn’t help it. The look on Lucy’s face as it changed from aggravated panic to frustrated relief was too good. He hadn’t meant to freak her out over something as simple as having a snack, but his laughter shook his shoulders as he wheezed, tasting the remnants of burnt parchment in the process. “Don’t laugh at me for not WARNING me you could do that!” She snapped, but after a few more seconds of catching her breath, she began to laugh as well, muttering under her breath. Through the laughter, he finally resumed his actual meal, promising he’d give her ample warning next time he chose to eat fire out of nowhere. “Like it matters now,” She muttered bitterly, swatting his shoulder, “I already know you can do it!”

While he accepted the point, he still couldn’t resist the cheeky smile he gave her, spooning his soup into his mouth as she resumed her earlier wanderings around his room. Apart from the new ink stain on his floor ( and a bag that Lucy bemoaned the loss of) Mirajane had kept it spic and span already, but it was clear she was looking for something to do as he continued to stuff his face. However, it gave them both the time needed to stifle their laughter as it continued to sprout between them at random intervals. It was when he was halfway through his dish that his mind wandered back to earlier musings and he looked to Lucy curiously from the lip of his bowl in consideration as she flitted about still, rearranging his vests by color.

”If I asked you to let me out, would you?”

The question fell from his mouth, voice hush and almost hesitant, already fearing her refusal. He knew he could force his way out. He’d tried once and almost succeeded. He had half a mind to just waltz right out the door, shambling with his new bowl of soup in hand, but the lull of sleep still pulled at his eyes. But Natsu didn’t want that, not when it was Lucy watching over him.

Briefly he wondered if Lucy would ring that damn bell if he attempted. He didn't see it on hand, but that didn't mean it wasn't outside waiting to be used at a moment’s notice. He had a brief thought of hunting Freed down later when he was free. That man was the first atop Natsu’s very long list of petty revenge that he wanted to enact. He’d regret the day he suggested they use a bell to keep a Draconis in line.

”Hmm, asking nicely?“ He was surprised when Lucy considered his question. She left the vests in a rustle of fabrics to take a seat across from him, turned her gaze upwards as if in deep thought. She tapped a nail softly on the tabletop, ”If I agree to let you stargaze with me later, will that suffice?“

That... was better than expected and his eyebrows shot into the fringe of his hair in surprise. ”Seriously?! That’s all I had to do? Ask you?“

”Yup! But this is a one time offer.” She smiled, but then he realized it didn't quite reach her eyes as she looked away again, ”That is.. if you still want to after...“

Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her shoulders, appearing almost as uncomfortable as she'd been during her first weeks sharing a space with him months ago. The expression pulled at Natsu and he scowled, nose scrunching at the sight.

”After what?“ He prodded, clearing his throat as he willed it to behave. He can have trouble speaking later, damnit!

Silence spread between them, and rather than wait awkwardly, he gulped down the rest of his soup. The sleep had fallen from him the moment he'd noticed something was wrong and now he couldn't stop himself from noticing every little thing that was off about the romni before him.

Her eyes were dulled, almost somber and her complexion seemed paler than usual. The way she pulled in on herself, looked as if she was attempting to become smaller by the second and her gaze couldn't stay in one place for longer than a few seconds. It was strange to witness, knowing her focus was far better than his own and not knowing what caused her look so solemn was beginning to tear down his nerves, brick by brick.

'Who upset Lucy?' He wondered, 'And how am I gonna get out of here to punch 'em for it?'

Attempting another bite of his meal, he was surprised to meet nothing but air on his spoon, frowning as he realized he'd unknowingly finished it. All that hard work Mirajane had done just for him to not enjoy it!

Deciding Lucy was more important than an unenjoyed meal, he shoved the bowl aside and continued to wait, trailing his tongue across his teeth as he considered how to pull her from her thoughts.

He didn't have to think for long, as she finally shook herself with resolve and fixed him with a guilty stare. “I want to ask you something, but I'm afraid it's going to upset you. I'm pretty sure it's a sensitive topic, but... should I not ask?”

Ask what? How was he supposed to know the answer to that if he didn't even know what she wanted to say? Natsu couldn’t help the incredulous look as he leaned back in his seat, eyeing her in obvious confusion.

He muttered under his breath and growled, agitated, “No offense, but that's the weirdest thing I've heard ya' say in months. If it upsets me, I can just change the subject and not answer, yeah? That's my business. If it's bothering you, that's yours. So just ask.”

Honestly, what was it with her and everyone else always making things more difficult than they had to be?

Lucy's laugh was like music to his ears, even when subdued. She wiped her eyes and sighed, “that... somehow makes me feel better. You're good at that.”

He ignored how her words made his chest feel lighter, not resisting the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Just saying what I think, that's all.”

She nodded, looking more relaxed than she had, ”All right, then, if you don't want to answer: don't. And then I can be the one to sneak you out for a bit this time, deal?“

That was more like it. His grin was all teeth, enjoying the idea of her breaking the rules for once.

”... can you tell me who Igneel is?“

The crack of splintering wood shot through the air, silencing Lucy with a flinch as she ducked her head away shamefully. The grin froze into place and he felt his entire world drop out from under him. His fingers dug into the grain, nails gouging scars into the small table.

”How...” He started, voice dry and cracking, “how do you know that name?”

Her gaze was back on the ceiling, looking far too guilty for his liking, but he couldn't manage another sentence to console her. Not now with that name ringing in his ears. His body felt hollowed out, too hot and cold all at once, and the corners of his eyes began to sting with a familiar wetness he refused to acknowledge.

”You... said it... when you were being operated on." She admitted, explaining what others had said when she posed the question to them.

Realizing what his ailing body had done against his say was embarrassing enough, but everyone else was aware too?

Splinters dug into his skin beneath his clawed fingertips and Natsu fought back the urge to snap. The air inside his house grew stifling from rising waves of heat lifting off him. It was his first sign of emotional overload and he fought to contain it. To breathe and back away.

Isn't that what he always did?

”You don't have to answer-!“ Lucy began but he held a hand up, quivering with too many emotions to separate from himself. He inhaled deeply, fighting back the warmth that pricked the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t cry. Not after only hearing just a name. The seconds trickled by as he willed the sweltering heat in the room to disperse to normal room temperatures.

”My Dad.“ He said, voice wavering with every breath, ”... I was calling for my Dad.“

In just one breath, the world and ocean itself crashed in on itself in his heart and Lucy hid behind her hands. He could hear the apology before it fell from her lips and fought through the lump in his throat to stop her.

”... don't.” He interjected, not recognizing his own voice for the first time in years, tired and weak., “Just, don't. Please. Can we just go see the stars now?”

Natsu reached across the table to pull her hands from her face, desperately searching her eyes as he asked, “Please?”

They said yes louder than her voice ever could.

They waited in tense silence for the sun to sink well below the horizon before they attempted to enact Natsu’s escape. At first, the two wondered where they could go that would keep him hidden enough, but every idea was struck from their minds the second they thought of them.

The beach?

“Everyone could see us and you're in no condition to walk through the sand.” Lucy pointed out.

The forest clearing?

“... that's even farther out! Plus there’s barely anything nice left after what happened!” Natsu barked non quizzically, eyebrows raised in judgment at Lucy's flushed face, “besides do ya' really wanna go back to where that asshole attacked us?”

“Uh, no... not really,” She winced, “That was stupid, huh?”

“No,” He muttered, scratching the back of his neck and awkwardly looking at a speck on the wall, “Just ... being your weird self.”

Other suggestions came and went with Natsu's voice progressively becoming hoarse until Lucy demanded he merely nod or shake his head in response to her ideas. 'I'm not becoming the reason you can't talk tomorrow!' She had said.

He grumpily agreed, crossing his arms as he fell quiet, mouth practically burning with the want to say his piece. More ideas came and went and just when the two thought they would never find the perfect place, Natsu struck gold. The perfect location.

That he couldn't explain without Lucy cutting him off with a hand to his mouth, hissing angrily at his inability to not cause further damage to his vocal chords. He recalled her last visit where she did the same, and her outcry of disgusted horror when he licked her palm, running to his kitchen to clean her hand while he almost popped a stitch with laughter at her reaction. The temptation to see her reaction again was irresistible.

As if sensing his train of thought Lucy pulled back just in time to witness his tongue peeking between his lips. Her face burned red and she held her hand tightly to her chest. A weird reaction, but he chalked that up to Lucy being Lucy.

”Were you going to lick me? Again?!“

He went to answer, but she snapped, ”Shake yes or no!“

Gods, was this his fate until he was fully healed? Seriously? Not bothering to hide his disdain, Natsu shrugged and rose to his feet instead. If that was how she was going to be, then he wasn't going to answer. Instead, he stopped by the front door and mimed the motions of her following him.

'I'll show you the way, you keep me hidden,' He tried to emphasize, hoping she'd piece it together on her own.

But Lucy was smart. Smarter than him on a good day, he'd wager. Not a second later, she was opening the door and muttering a quiet word under her breath that caused a swirl of magic to burst through the unseen barrier of Freed's runes. Natsu stared, mystified and grunted when he realized the words felt foreign on his tongue and he couldn't put together what she'd said to repeat it himself.

”A passcode Freed gave.“ She explained, winking proudly at him, ”and it only works for the one he gave it to, so good luck trying it yourself! Once we get back, I'll have to put it back up for him.“

Damn them. They really thought of everything, didn't they? Another reason to smack Freed with a pillow, right along with Makarov later when he was recovered. He'd have fun bombing them with feather attacks, he was certain.

But he hadn't much time to consider that thought further as Lucy grasped his hand and gently tugged him out the door, passed the barrier that had been the bane of his existence for nearly a full week and the sense of freedom brought a smile to his face.

He’d foregone his shoes, not bothering to waste time searching for them and after a week of smooth wooden boards beneath his soles. The quiet crunch of gravel beneath each step was a welcome change.

This was so much better. He was almost giddy, were he fit he’d dart off down streets like a child. The air outside tasted so much better than he remembered. He didn't think about it when his fingers curled around hers and he began their slow trek along the path, keeping close to the shadows as they made their way up to the decrepit keep.

If they were going to stargaze as he enjoyed the fresh air, then why not do it from the top of an abandoned watch tower that still basked in the last vestiges of sunlight as the stars began to blot the sky one by one?

This wasn't the first time Natsu climbed this particular watch tower. Like the clearing in the woods, he had many places he liked to go when he just wanted to exist and nothing more and this was the best view of the entire village without any obstructions from the landscape below.

Today felt as good a day as any to stop existing, especially with the thoughts now tugging at his mind left and right. Teetering on the edges of his perception, Natsu could feel the hints of his nightmare slowly creeping in on him, but over-shadowed was the echoing of a name he'd tried to keep to himself for years.

Igneel was a name he wanted to forget. (It was a lie, but maybe one day he'd believe it.) The fact Lucy now joined the ranks of those who knew of it left him feeling off-kilter. Others knew from when he was a child and unable to control the words spewing from his mouth when he'd wake cold and alone in his home, desperately for any source of comfort, but the name so rarely left him now that hearing it again brought back every negative emotion he fought desperately to hide.

Lucy's grip on his fingers served to ground him, but the moment they began to climb the tower, each thought came rushing in as if a dam had burst. He wanted her to go first, to ensure her leg could handle the ladder up, but she refused. ”Let me take care of you this time.“

Despite the cold chill that ran through him when his hand slipped from hers, her order warmed him from the inside out and became the only barrier he had against the errant thoughts still igniting in his mind.

He stood to the side when he clambered to the top, making room for Lucy to join him. The dwindling light of the sun caresses the edges of his hair while the wind whipped it about in the cool breeze. Distantly, he realized a few of his bandages had come loose as they fluttered in the air current, but he paid no mind to fixing them. The sunset was far too hypnotizing.

But as it sank away beneath the horizon, he felt a distant pang in his chest that tightened with an unknown emotion. It was nostalgic, in a way, but effervescent, just beyond his reach of understanding. He tore his gaze away, the dull sensation fading as he watched Lucy make it up the final rung.

The wind caused the temperature to drop, but his magic had already begun to replenish itself, faster than his body could heal. It kept him warm, but he caught the sounds of Lucy's teeth chattering. He frowned, irritated. He’d led her up here, how fair was it to let her freeze from his own suggestion?

Lucy wasn't prepared for the way he grabbed her, hands snapping out like a viper to drag her into his hold where his body heat could warm her better than the thin fabric of her dress ever could.

”H-hey! Natsu, you're injured, you can't be-'' She squeaked as he pulled them to the floor, keeping her seated between his outstretched legs. Wrapping his arms securely around her middle, rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes. He felt Lucy stiffen, too scared to move, afraid she might knock against a wound and-

Colour crept up her neck as he inhaled against her. The slow expansion of his chest was close, it felt as if it were merging with her own. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but her mind stretched in too many directions, threatening to overwhelm her. She sputtered, tumbling over her words.

“Natsu- what are you, you really can’t-!” She fell silent when his annoyed breath fanned over her cheek and sharp teeth nipped the edge of her ear in reprimand. His action cut her off and he rumbled softly at his quiet victory. It was a no win with her if he tried to verbally answer.

This was quicker, and it got the response out of her he wanted.

That was better. He pointed out to the sky where there was more night than sunset and spoke an octave lower than usual, just enough to get his point across.

”You take care of me, and I keep you warm,“ He muttered, ”Fair enough?“

”....... I can't believe you bit me.“ Her reply was breathless and for a second, he thought he caught a rasp in her tone.

”... you're not getting sick, right?“ He asked.

“No!“ Her elbow nudged him just enough to serve as a warning and she stubbornly looked to the sky. If not for the way she sat stiff as a statue, he would have laughed at the way her face had turned tomato red.

He'd take her word on it….. for now.

What more could he do to chase the errant thoughts plaguing his mind away? Pulling her close worked better than their held hands and he found himself distracted by the golden gleam in her hair rather than the stars sparkling above them.

A comforting silence fell between them, one that Natsu reveled in. He wasn't certain what thoughts rampaged through Lucy's mind, or what she did during the times he couldn't see her, but in that moment, it was just the two of them. Much as it had been in the forests after the landslide. He could properly ascertain her safety for himself and the restlessness that was ever present shrank to non existence.

Almost too comforting, in fact, as his eyes began to drift shut as the sun finally set and the glow of the waning moon shone above them. He struggled to stay awake, annoyed at his body for becoming exhausted so quickly.

Luckily, for him, Lucy provided the perfect distraction, fiddling with the loose bandages. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Do what?” He mumbled.

“Bite me,” She muttered, ears so red he could feel the heat coming off her in waves, “It’s not something you should do to just- ugh, never mind. Would you like to see more constellations?”

Although confused by the sudden change in topic, Natsu smiled into her hair, eyes shining as he watched her point to the stars above, “... are they different from last time we were on the beach together?”

“Of course they are,” She lectured, voice warm with recollection, “the stars move and change just as we do. You just have to know where to look.”

His eyes widened in curiosity, feeling a strange familiarity with the words. “That makes sense.”

They fell into a companionable embrace, with Lucy pointing to different constellations, naming each one she recognized. Natsu watched, eyes blinking from weariness as he rested against her shoulder. It melted away their myriad of thoughts that tangled their emotions and mired them in emotions they weren’t ready to traverse. This was a comfort, a moment of peace. A little world just for them. It was perfect.

Lucy squirmed in her spot from time to time, biting her lip as she struggled to remember each cluster of stars. The memories of her childhood faded away in the fog of her mind; She looked above as if they were family, but the names were shadows of their former selves and she constantly questioned the accuracy of her words.

But Natsu sat and listened with quiet hums of encouragement, surprisingly patient as she considered each star. Despite her earlier embarrassment of his lack of personal space, Lucy found herself sinking further against him, basking in the heat his body presented.

Spring still kept a chill in the air, despite the warning of summer already looming close and while she probably didn't need Natsu acting as her blanket, she quietly appreciated it. Their moment of peace as she pointed out her next favorite constellation served as the distraction they both needed from errant thoughts.

“There's Centaurus,” She mumbled, pleased to finally remember the name, “One of the larger ones you can see this time of year and the smallest... Oh! There he is!“ She changed direction, pointing a little further away, eyes gleaming, ”Old Man Crux!“

Natsu snickered into her shoulder, voice a low rumble in his amusement, “Old man, huh? He got a beard like the geezer too?”

Her pout was unmistakable, feeling embarrassed, ”Don't make fun of me. I was taught these when I was little, and seeing them as actual beings was how I remembered them.“

Another rumble followed, “Not makin’ fun, just.. noticing... that's all.“

”Keep that up and I won't share Corvus or Musica with you,“ she snipped without any heat. When Natsu's reply was to nuzzle against her shoulder as he chuckled, she decided to turn her attention back to the stars, eyes already scanning for the mentioned constellations.

But something, just under her inner voice, quietly tugged at her. A gentle pull that led her gaze to an altogether different cluster. A familiarity she couldn't name warmed her soul and a soft spoken voice seemed to call out to her.

'You can introduce us, can't you?' The voice urged and Lucy was pointing it out before she could consider it further, ”And that one... the maiden, Virgo. I haven't seen her in awhile.”

When did she last take the time to study the stars she once knew so well?

She could hardly remember, but the pull faded with her acknowledgment and Lucy felt a little more brave than she had moments ago.

“There ya' go again,” Natsu mumbled, sounding half asleep, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. She was almost offended. His wounds needed all the rest he could get and the fact he was relaxed so much filled Lucy with pride, but... there was something else, something the star above seemed to share strength with her to do.

“I'm so sorry,” Her voice came out in a half-breath, chest heaving as tears stung the corner of her eyes. She didn't wait for Natsu to respond. A part of her hoped he had fallen to sleep and would miss it entirely, but the need to get it out into the air was too strong to deny herself, “for bringing up bad memories.”

The look upon his face when she'd said that name, she knew it well.

The broken emptiness that came from a loss you couldn't stop and still wrestled to accept. Her clan was gone, but even he held a loss so deep inside that his silent need for comfort couldn't be contained even in sleep. It was all too easy to feel that guilt rise up, threatening to strangle her with its many tendrils.

A part of her knew the apology was more to make herself feel better, but she hoped, if Natsu heard it, he'd take it for what it was and not mistake her apology as a way to bring the topic up again. The way his gaze broke when she asked was more than enough for Lucy and she didn't wish to witness a repeat of it.

Lowering her hand, eyes still watching the Virgo constellation above them, she listened to Natsu's breathing even out behind her. The way his breath ghosted the back of her neck and his arms loosened their hold around her waist. All signs of rest, but the fact didn't calm her nerves. Everything felt jittery, both inside and out and Lucy struggled to name the cause of it.

“Sometimes... I wonder why you or anyone else put up with me,” She admitted quietly, allowing the freedom of Natsu's sleep to say the words she kept hidden, “but I suppose Porly was right.. It's unfair if I decide to leave just because I feel guilty over how kind all of you are. So, I'll think on it a little longer, okay?” Natsu snorted quietly behind her, his head lolling slightly in his slumber.

Maybe she wasn't half as brave as she felt.

Maybe it's better this way, She thought, sighing as she curled in on herself, holding her legs tight against her chest. 'But... how long until I have to wake him?'

They had to go back eventually, if only to keep her replacement from knowing what she'd done. Perhaps allowing him to walk out before Porlyusica had given the go ahead wasn't the greatest of plans, but Lucy couldn't bring herself to regret the decision. He had done the same for her, after all.

For now, she'd let him rest, and enjoy the stars above in silence. The stars of Virgo blinked back, as if agreeing with the idea and she peered upon each constellation through her lashes, turning her focus inward to the depths of the magic that curled around her soul.

She still couldn't use it properly, not yet, but the ability to access it was a comfort. One she hadn't properly thanked Natsu for yet. Vowing to thank him when the time came, she visualized the golden glow of her abilities spreading out to envelope her, fingers curling to play with its energy.

Once upon a time, Makarov asked if she had learned to speak with the stars as her clan did and she had to deny it. Now, she wondered... if she focused harder, could she hear them again? She knew now what the voices were that gave whispered warnings in the back of her mind, but could she bring them out herself?

“Tell me how to hear you.” She pleaded quietly, urging her magic to spread further out like a beacon, “Please... Virgo, you spoke once, didn't you? I actually heard that? Let me hear you again.”

Silence ticked by with crickets chirping a chorus beneath them, but the constellations above merely blinked in answer. If there was something to say, it wasn't now. Lucy drew the magic back in, panting from the exertion and sighed.

“... next time, then.” She hoped.

Natsu didn't know when he'd fallen asleep, but he remembered Lucy's quiet voice, and what he thought was an apology. The words had slurred on the tip of his tongue and when he had meant to reply, had turned into a soft snore. The position wasn't the most comfortable, but the shared heat, fresh air and listening to a voice that wasn't lecturing him had soothed his bones in more ways than one.

And while he still felt the bitterness of past memories on his tongue, he wanted nothing more than to shove it back into the depths of his mind to stay buried. His sleep was both restful and an attempt to run away from exhausting memories. Thinking too much was always tiring and Lucy's voice served as a lullaby for the Draconis.

Unfortunately, his sleep wasn't long, as a familiar scent traversed the wind and knocked against his nose, forcing his eyes to open. Lucy was still in his arms,a pleasant surprise despite her being stiffer than she had been before, but wide awake. She'd stopped talking at some point. (To give him more rest, he figured.) And the natural smell that came from her was unchanged.

So why did he smell blood? And Erza? (It took him a couple, nose scrunching moments to realize it wasn't hers, but the fact he couldn't pinpoint whose it belonged to was just as frustrating.) It called for him to awaken as he swung his head, swiveling to and fro to judge distance and location.

The front gate and coming up fast. Relief at Erza's safety was short lived as he caught more scents on the wind, pulling a low growl from his throat that startled Lucy from her reverie.

“What is it? Did you have a nightmare?” She asked, but he didn't have the attention to answer, pushing her aside gently to drag himself to his feet.

He wobbled at first, tightening his hold on the old railing as he trusted it to support his weight. He was still disoriented from his inopportune nap, but while this watchtower was not in use, it still had a good view of the main gate and as the scent grew stronger, he knew he had to see for himself what was happening.

The current warriors on duty already leapt into action, opening the gate and casting orders. Their voices echoed in the distance, but Natsu caught the words with relative ease. Informing Makarov was paramount, of course, but that wasn't the news he wanted. His hackles raised as he tried to spy Kage in her entourage, his old anger refueling from his failures.

Lucy said something, but he didn't catch the words, too attuned to the group below them, but he was aware of her hand on his shoulder. It was gentle enough, but sent a shudder down his nerves regardless: the wounds still too sensitive. Her hasty apology was felt rather than heard and he grunted his acceptance.

“Erza's back.” He said, unsure if Lucy had even asked, but she moved by his side quickly enough, attempting to see the commotion down below as well.

He doubted her ears could catch what he did, however.

“Is she okay?”

“Smells like it.” He said, nose wrinkling in disdain as Kage's scent finally struck his nose. “She got the bastard!”

While he assumed Lucy would be happy with the knowledge, her silence spoke volumes. His own mood had dampened as rage began to fuel the fire in his mind. Kage was wounded, he could tell that much, but Erza had brought him back alive: something the Draconis wanted to rectify as soon as possible.

What reason could there be to leave the asshole alive after his attempts on their lives?

But as much as he wanted to dart off, the aches of his body refused to allow it and Lucy grasping his wrist grounded him enough to reality. He wasn't supposed to be out yet. (As if he'd care about that.) But Lucy stuck her neck out for him. He didn’t dare risk getting her in trouble. Still growling, he pulled her and himself down just enough to hide from view and still keep an eye on the events down below.

He didn't care if he was caught but Lucy... something told him she needed a win and this was the best way to get her one. “Stay down.“ He rasped.

”You don't need to tell me that!“ She hissed in return, ”we shouldn't even be here. Maybe we should head back...“

”No. Their path is right under us,“ He shook his head, knowing Lucy could piece it together faster than he could. Ignoring her as she began to ramble concerns under her breath, he stretched his neck as far as his wounds could allow and tried to piece together what was happening.

It was definitely Erza, with Kage bound on a makeshift sled of wood and vines trailing behind her. But the blood came from two sources and while he could care less the extent of Kage's injuries, he didn't recognize the other man limping beside her with a brown hood draped over his face. One who smelt eerily of starlight beneath the stench of blood.

First she left Kage alive and now she was bringing strangers into the village? What was Erza thinking?

Gooseflesh prickled atop his skin as the wind picked up, Lucy pressing herself closer to his side to escape the chill but it was something else that made him shiver.

There was a fourth scent just behind the three, one that Natsu hoped for once in his life was his nose playing tricks. But the taste of iron- sharp as a blade- cut through the muddled scents of the forest standing on the edge of woods just outside in wait.

The metallic tint that struck him sent signals flaring in his mind as his fingers dug sharp indentations into the watchtower rails.

It was familiar, dredging up memories of his youth and yet he couldn’t place a name to the scent that made his stomach churn. It didn’t matter though. No matter who it was, the troubles this held in store for him almost made his magic flare out of control. The urge to ignite the forest was rising, roaring to be followed.

What Natsu wasn't aware of, was that familiar scent had caught his own, holding a steady gaze up over the gate to the unused watchtower, a studded brow drawn close in confusion. The tall man's red eyes widened as memories of a childhood long gone flickered in his mind.

Now this was interesting. The one left on the edge of the forest, outside of the village, couldn't stop the smirk that split across his face.

‘Looks like we're gonna have a change of plans,’ Gajeel thought.

#nalu #fairy tail #nalu fanfiction #fairy tail fanfiction #natsuxlucy #ft fanfiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #Kili's Writing #My Writing #cw: gore #cw blood #cw: corpses

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