Heyyyyy readers! I'm alive and active again! School is, per usual, time consuming, but I powered through another chapter.

First, a clarification. So, Ragnarok is also a video game? This, however, is an AU based off of the Norse mythology, which I was very unclear on when I first published the story. If you're expecting Ragnarok video game shenanigans, I'm sorry to disappoint.

Also, hoooooly mother, the new Fire Emblem game looks awesome. I powered through the second half of this chapter on the sheer awesomeness that would be a dancer lady lord. I'm already pumped.

Okay, enough about me... To my lovely reviewers:

Chew-a-pick: Robin's brother needed a bird name. Mostly because it would be an adorable naming theme. As for which version of Ragnarok, the Norse. Heheh. Sorry about the confusion.

Pup-Ashbless: Thanks! I tend to write what I want to read, and at the moment, that's fantasy AU's. They really are just so much fun to read and write. Robin and Wren's relationship (and familial relationships in general) will be a large part of this story, along with the bonds she forms with everyone else along the way. As for romance, I can 100% promise when it happens, Robin gets it. Keeping it will be the struggle. ;)

Cormag Ravenstaff: I've got to catch up on your fic all over again! Writing the fight scene in the first chapter was totally addictive. Now all I want to write are sword fights. Just so fun.

Alex: Chrom/Robin is indeed under consideration. Once the story gets in full swing, I'll decide on an official main couple.

NotSoGreatGamerGirl, Namelesskid123, Buckler, Gunlord500: Thanks!

Also, a shout out to all my shiny new followers and favorites!

And now... Enjoy!


As Robin swept open the door to Wren's apartment, she narrowly missed Wren himself, standing feet away from the door frame with a scowl on his face fit to terrify cats and kings alike. "Give me the coat, and sit on the couch."

"If Lissa and I hadn't just been nearly shish kabobbed by an ice spear wielding maniac that you neglected to mention to me, perhaps I'd be inclined to listen to you, Wren, but—"

"Lissa needs the couch anyways," Chrom said, nudging Robin with Lissa's limp arm as he edged around her. Wren glanced from Chrom's face, ruddy from cold, to Lissa's and nodded. With a parting glare, Wren left Robin in the doorway.

Against the maroon fabric, Lissa was even more washed out than before, and the cushions were so squishy it was as if they were threatening to swallow the girl entirely, making her look even smaller than usual. "Are you okay?" Wren asked. It was too soft to be directed to her, even as Robin leaned against the top of the couch. Instead, Wren gave Chrom a quick once.

"Oh, Chrom's fine. He stabbed harpoon man through the chest with a sword. Casual." Chrom wouldn't look at her, but Robin see his shoulders stiffen. She could almost understand Wren sharing this… this thing with him. The pair were inseparable. The thought constricted her throat like an anaconda's squeeze anyways, that Wren would trust Chrom and not her. "You neglected to mention that bit, too. How your best friend, our neighbor of eight years, battles ice giants. You know who told me, Wren? Lissa. We both know Lissa babbles too much to keep secrets, but you still trusted her over me?"

Wren sighed, a long exhale like air whooshing out of a bag. Sweeping to his feet in an easy motion, he held out a hand. "Return me my coat, Robin." He sounded tired, and now that she was truly looking, Robin could see the bruise colored shadows under Wren's eyes.

"And look at the shadows under your eyes. You go out with him. What were you going to tell me as the three of you left every night? Oh, gee, Robin, Chrom and I have super important—important—important man business." Wren snorted. "We need all the kitchen knives, and Lissa gets to come. But not you. You're too—"

"Reckless. Cocky. Soft-hearted. Headstrong." Wren stopped ticking off fingers and glanced up at her. "I can go on, but if I kept it up, I'd run out of fingers. Chrom and I talked about telling you, and we decided not to, for the precise reasons you proved tonight. You wouldn't listen to me, you wouldn't listen to him, and Lissa pays the price." With a tug on Wren's shirt, Chrom nodded at Lissa. Her marshmallow coat now lay in his arms, bundled around a handful of dinner knives that caught the light like fine jewelry. "Again with the damn knives? We're getting someone to watch that girl."

With a frustrated growl, Wren buried his hands in his hair and began to pace. This wasn't her brother, Robin decided. Wren liked hot chocolate, blankets, and those cheesy midnight sci-fi marathons. He smiled, laughed, and when he was upset, sulked around the house like a neglected puppy until you guessed what you did wrong. But then, how much of that had been a lie? As Robin opened her mouth to ask, Chrom rose to his feet. "I'll talk to him. Just give us a few minutes," Chrom said, a murmur that Wren, still absorbed in his own world, didn't even glance up at.

Robin wanted to argue, but she wanted an explanation. Giving Chrom a curt nod, Robin left to the kitchen for a spoon. The kitchen and the living room weren't truly separated, and the breakfast bar between the two rooms gave Robin a place to lean and glower over. Huddled together, Wren and Chrom were whispering too quietly for her to catch even hints of their conversation. Chrom, inexplicably, seemed to be on her side.

Her wrist barely twinged as she cracked open the ice cream container. With a frown, Robin gave it an experimental roll. Nothing, not even a bruise along the skin. An hour ago, she hadn't even been able to lift it. Another thing to add to the pile of questions Wren needed to explain. The pile was expanding at an astounding rate, Robin decided as she scooped out a generous spoonful of chocolate ice cream. "Chocolate, huh? That was always Mom's favorite. Not that you'd remember very well."

Wren leaned against the other side of the breakfast bar and gave the ice cream a rather wistful frown, like it could somehow locate their long run away mother that Robin couldn't remember and Wren insisted on using to guilt her with anyways. Not that it happened frequently enough for her to notice. Noooope. "I can't stomach cold foods much anymore. Frost giants do that," Wren added.

Robin glanced up at her brother warily. He was still talking to the ice cream, but his face was soft, glasses already beginning the precipitous slide from the bridge of his nose to the tip, like she remembered before Wren left for college. "Well, frost giants make me stress eat, apparently."

Wren didn't laugh, but then, oddly quiet Wren was still a huge step up from raging Wren. He placed a hand over hers, fingertips just brushing the miraculously healed wrist. "There are now… options. As to how we proceed. First, there are ways to make you… forget. I—"

"No one's making me forget anything." Robin shot Wren a scowl. "If you or whoever steal so much as my memory of breakfast this morning, I'll unleash nine kinds of hell on you. I'm not wandering around in the dark again. I'm helping."

"If you want to remember, you can't go home. You can't see Dad."

"We'll burn that bridge when we get there." Robin scooped another large spoonful of ice cream, this one dangerously close to leaking down the spoon handle like a chocolate mudslide. She didn't care. Somehow, the ice cream felt like an extension of the jotun, and eating it all meant victory. Perhaps this was why Wren couldn't eat ice cream anymore. "So? Explain?"

"You can't tell anyone else. They'll either call you crazy or actually believe you, and both are bad. Humans are little more than pebbles to these guys," Wren said. As Robin frowned, Wren laughed, faint and almost sardonic. "Well, normal, unprepared ones at any rate. You—We were lucky Lissa and Chrom protected you tonight. And that's—" With an impatient huff, Wren dug out his phone. It was buzzing dully, and Wren cut it off in a smooth motion. "And that's my phone. Remind me to see Miriel tomorrow, Chrom. She's been calling all night." Wren glanced over his shoulder to Chrom.

"Who's Miriel? Does she know about the ice things?" Robin asked. Wren flinched, breaking off whatever intense eye conversation he and Chrom had been having. "Or is she like a girlfriend? Because Dad's been getting suspicious you're not into—"

"Another rule." Wren turned back to Robin with his—very likely patented—disapproving older sibling face. "You don't ask questions. I'll tell you what I think you need to know, when you need to know it. And don't give me any faces, because we both know me giving you an inch results in you taking a mile. You also do what Chrom and I say. If we tell you to do something, you do exactly that, no more, no less, and not whatever Lissa suggests."

Robin nodded. "Yeah. I get it. Loads of rules. Now, ice giants?" At Wren's deepening scowl, Robin rolled her eyes. "Loads of important rules. Ice giants?"

Wren cast her a glance, long, sad, defeated. "I promised Mom, Dad, and myself I'd keep you safe. Everyone is counting on me to protect you, my little baby sister. Please don't make me do this, Robin. Forgetting—"

"Wouldn't keep me safe," Robin said. She resealed the now half empty pint of ice cream and fixed Wren a pointed frown. "Wren. You know me. You know that if you kept stopping me from going outside again and again that I would just push against you. I'd escape sometime, and then there would be nothing you could do." Robin knew she was guilting Wren into divulging everything, something. His broken face, forehead propped up by a delicate hand decorated with several hairline scars Robin could now guess the stories behind, twisted her stomach in knots. She needed to know though. That pulled at her stomach harder than any knot Wren could tie. "Please, Wren. Telling me was always the only option."

Wren threaded a hand through his hair with a groan. "The jotnar. That's the name of the ice giant race, singular jotun. In the Old Tongue, it translates loosely to 'man-eater.' It's precisely as it sounds. According to old mythology, long before Grima, Naga, or what have you, their race allied with the Old Gods. The Old Gods trusted them and their alliance, but the jotnar betrayed them. They slaughtered almost everyone, and the few of the Old Gods that escaped retreated well beyond the reach of jotnar and man. All that spared us humans from their betrayal was that the jotnar destroyed the bridge between worlds as they travelled en mass into Asgard, the realm of the gods."

"That bridge, the Bifrost, however, has somehow been… repaired. We don't know how, but it would seem jotnar are using the bridge to cross into our world in very small numbers." Wren waved a hand to Chrom and Lissa. "That's where we come in. The Shepherds, Lissa likes to call us. Herding our flock away from the giant, ice-wielding man-eaters plodding around our world like they already own it."

Robin frowned. "The one Lissa and I met was small, though. Not all… giant sized."

With a snort, Wren quirked an eyebrow at her. "All that, and you're worried that the mythical giant you encountered wasn't quite large enough for you?" Everything else had felt plausible, Robin wanted to say. She had seen it with her own two eyes, and if there was anything you could trust, it was experience. The jotnar, Asgard, Bifrost, it all felt familiar, tugging on something lodged in her brain she had just… somehow… forgotten. "The jotnar come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Only the smallest have been coming through so far. We think the Bifrost might still be under repair and unable to support the more powerful beings."

"Congratulations, by the way." Wren and Robin both flinched at Chrom's voice. As Robin whipped her head up to his, Chrom gave her a dazzlingly charming grin. "You now live in the Bifrost drop-off point. All flesh-loving frost giants with their shiny, shiny teeth arrive here before they head out into the world."

"Which was not something I was going to mention," Wren said. Chrom shrugged, and Wren sighed. With a half-smile and a shake of the head, her brother turned back to her. "The jotnar that have crossed into our world are too weak to go into the sun. Something about the heat. You'll be safe outdoors until sunset and safe in here until sunrise. As long as you're careful, there's nothing to worry about."

"What's a valkyrie?" Robin asked. Pawing at the hem of Wren's coat, she scanned the sleeves for any sort of unusual marker, but the coat was little more than a nondescript purple hooded jacket. "Lissa said only valkyrie could wear this coat. Is something special about it? Are you a valkyrie? Am I a valkyrie now?"

"Coat first." Wren stuck out a hand, and after a long huff, Robin shook off the coat and returned it to him. Folding it with a careful delicacy, Wren kept the folded garment close to his chest. "I'm not answering that one. It's more than you need to know."

"But the jotun was asking me about it. He seemed to be looking—"

"The jotun don't talk," Wren said. "You must have misheard. Stress, probably."

"But he did. Over and over. That jotun was searching for a valkyrie. For you, I think." Robin scanned Wren's face, hunting for any flicker of recognition, but his face was unreadable, carefully stoic.

"Chrom, did you…" Chrom walked over and leaned against the breakfast bar by Wren's side. So Chrom's word was more trustworthy than her own.

"There was the typical shrieking you could probably hear a mile away, but nothing understandable," Chrom said. As Wren nodded, Chrom glanced to Robin. His look was measuring, like he was somehow weighing the chances of her honesty on a mental scale. "Nothing to say it didn't speak to you though. What did it say?"

"She's not getting involved," Wren said as Robin opened her mouth to explain. "The jotun don't talk. They've never talked, not since the beginning. The jotnar that cross the Bifrost are primarily unintelligent, and, even if they could speak our language, have proven many times over that they're not interested in negotiating with us."

"Well, you don't seem to be much better." It slipped out, bitter, not because Robin truly thought they could communicate properly with the jotnar, but because Wren refused to believe her.

"Have you already forgotten that near death experience tonight? I've watched as people tried to talk with these monsters, tried to reason with them. Do you know what happened to them? What I have had to see? What Chrom has had to see? Lissa? The three of us against the endless tide of the jotnar… Every jotun we let live means one more human we let die. There's no room here for—" As Chrom nudged Wren's shoulder with his own, Wren paused and looked at her. His voice had just finished echoing off the walls, and Robin could feel the scandal, shock, horror, stiff on her face like a hideous mask. Wren had shouted at her. He seemed to realize it, and his face slowly fell. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. There's… It's… I'll ask Lissa if she heard anything once she wakes up, okay?"

Robin nodded. She could feel Chrom and Wren watching her, but it only made the mortification, red on her cheeks, burn hotter. Robin knew she wasn't a child, a fool, or a bleeding heart, but Wren, Wren didn't want to listen. He wouldn't trust her word, didn't understand that she wanted to help, didn't believe she could. Wren didn't see that she needed this information. "Right," Robin said, tight and soft. "I think I'll go to sleep."

Wren hummed in agreement. The guilt was blatant on his face, but Robin didn't care. "Everything looks better with a little sleep." With a thin smile, Robin pushed herself off of the breakfast bar, and, after storing the ice cream in the freezer, she left Wren and Chrom for her room. "Goodnight?"

There was a plea for forgiveness in Wren's voice. For what or for how much, Robin couldn't tell, but his eyes were crumpled in legitimate sadness. Perhaps Wren wished to tell her everything? Whether that was true or not, Robin clung to the idea like a drowning man to a raft. Wren was, after all, her brother, her longest, closest confidante. "Goodnight," Robin replied and closed her bedroom door with a click.

With a dresser in one corner, bed in the other, and a half unpacked suitcase in the middle, her bedroom was just as bare as the rest of Wren's apartment. In the dim moonlight that shone through the window like light in water, the room was eerie. Robin didn't want to fumble for the light switch though and just flopped on the bed. There was so much she had wanted to ask Wren, and he hadn't answered. The jotnar, valkyrie, coat, the book and word thing Lissa mentioned, how Lissa had done all that she did… It swirled around her head like a plastic bag caught in the wind. Worse, everything felt vaguely familiar, which raised the question… Not that she wanted to consider, but would—had—Wren made her forget before?

Robin raised her once injured wrist into the air and splayed out her fingers like the branches of a tree. It had healed. Somehow. Perhaps the same way Lissa was healing now. Could Wren do that, too? Rolling over on her side, Robin huffed. She would find out. She was never going to feel as helpless again as she had tonight whether Wren cooperated or not.


Robin's dreams were fuzzy faces and scenes that she couldn't truly see, blurred like they were recorded on film covered in fingerprints. There were frost giants. She was running—from them? To them?—feet slapping on hardwood with a sound like fish on rocks. Wren was gone. Gone somewhere, which was odd, because she was in his apartment. She was running down his hall, Robin realized, and it was expanding, stretching. At one end of the hall was a pinprick of light and the other the jotnar, too many to fit in the narrow space, piling over and over each other. Robin knew she was yelling for Wren. No sound was coming out, however, and she was screaming in silence. Something was horribly wrong, and she was powerless to save him.

"Robin? Robin, wake up. C'mon. Snap out of it." Wren's voice and then his face swam into focus, warm, familiar, and very, very present. Wren was safe. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, frowning down on her with his real, tangible hand on her shoulder. Robin swept up and hugged him. Wren was solid. She was awake. After a hesitant pause, Wren wrapped an arm around her back. "It was just a dream. No need to yell for me. I'm here," he said, and his voice soothed away the writhing panic in her stomach.

Warmth seeped from Wren's skin into her bones. She had woken up freezing, Robin realized with an odd sense of clinical detachment. As she propped her head a little more comfortably on her brother's shoulder, Robin caught a glimpse of a backpack, too tattered to be hers, flopped against her bedroom door frame. "Are you going somewhere?"

Her voice was much firmer than she felt, but there was still a tremor there, one that Wren either missed or ignored. "You can't come, Robin. Those are the rules." Wren broke their hug with a disapproving frown, like he was scolding a puppy. "Now, don't—"

"Don't leave me. Not alone. I don't want to be left alone. I need to be able to see you," Robin said. Wren sat on the edge of her bed, confusion plain on his face. She couldn't tell him her dream. Robin couldn't explain why, but it was firmly ingrained in the fibers of her already fading memory. Wren couldn't know. "Just… please," Robin said, forcing every ounce of desperation she could muster into her voice.

With a heavy sigh, Wren pushed himself off the bed. "You had some nightmare, huh?" Robin clung to his arm and nodded. "This once, you can come. All the rules still hold. You do what Chrom and I say." As Robin scrambled out of bed, Wren paused in the door frame. "It should be a simple errand, but if I tell you to leave, you need to promise me you'll leave."

"Right. Those are the rules." That was a lie, but Wren didn't need to know it. Her brother swept his backpack over his shoulder with a nod.


They were out the door and at bus stop in ten minutes. Sleepy office workers huddled around the bus sign, yawning and blinking in the early morning sun. Wren threaded through the crowd, twisting his head around like a dog on a hunt, as Robin trailed after him. Despite the summer heat, Wren held his purple coat folded under one arm, and Robin couldn't tear her eyes from it. The coat and its mysteries were mocking her.

She almost stumbled in to him as Wren came to an abrupt stop. Peeking over his shoulder, Robin found Chrom leaning against the bus sign and Lissa bouncing at his side. As Lissa's mouth dropped open, Robin edged from behind Wren with a wave. "Morning."

"Robin!" It was three hours too early for Lissa's high pitched squeal, but the shriek was also vaguely nostalgic, comforting. If she closed her eyes, Robin could pretend the four of them were just waiting at the high school bus stop, in the years before Wren kept secrets from her. Lissa bounded forward and squeezed Robin's hands in her own. "Chrom said that grumpy-grumps Wren said that you wouldn't get to come. Does this mean you're in?"

As Wren sighed, Chrom straightened up with a smile. "I didn't call you grumpy-grumps. Just for the record. Both of you look like hell, by the way."

"Gee, really know how to flatter a girl, huh?" Robin said. Chrom's smile broadened, which gave her a slight thrill after Wren's clear unwillingness to let her go anywhere with the three of them last night. Perhaps Chrom and Lissa were on her side, if only a little. As Chrom passed Wren the day's paper, Robin snuck a glance at her brother. Hell was the best way to describe him. She had been so relieved he was… there that she hadn't seen how the shadows under his eyes had grown or the slight sleep-deprived shakiness in his hands. Lissa cleared her throat expectantly. "Yessss. Ah, yes. I am… half in."

With a cheer, Lissa threw her arms in the air. "Thank the gods! You have noooo idea how awful it is being the only girl. We need to talk about uncomfortable girly things around them as payback for all the uncomfortable manly things I've had to hear. Oh! Speaking of uncomfortable manly things…"

Lissa finally took a brief break for air before tugging a stranger to Robin. The boy, maybe a little younger than Wren, extracted his arm from Lissa's grip with a visible wince. "Right. No touching. At least three feet of distance." With a roll of her eyes, Lissa took an exaggerated step away from her companion. When his face wasn't curled up in a grimace, the boy was attractive in a tall, dark, and handsome sort of way. His dark hair looked fluffy, like a cat's, and Robin couldn't help but wonder if petting it had the same therapeutic properties. "Meet my fancy-pants bodyguard, Lon'qu. He's here to stop me from stealing the knives again," Lissa said with a small pout.

Robin chanced a small smile, but Lon'qu only grunted. "So… Lon'qu? Is that foreign?"

"It's my name." Robin watched him, waiting for some elaboration, but Lon'qu had already stopped staring at her shoes—He wouldn't meet her face, and Robin wasn't comfortable asking why—and begun to fidget with his jeans. Lon'qu was clearly uncomfortable, tugging at the denim, pulling at the collar of a sci-fi shirt that Robin swore Wren owned, wriggling his sneakers. "Stop staring, woman," Lon'qu growled.

"Robin. I'm Robin. Pleased to meet you." Lon'qu shifted a little farther away from her, which Robin was some kind of acknowledgement. Robin leaned towards Wren, who still had his nose buried in the newspaper. "Your friend is a little… odd. He's part of your nighttime adventures?"

As Wren glanced up from his paper, an aged bus skidded and squealed to a halt at their bus stop. Lon'qu jerked backwards, face twisted in an expression that almost looked like horror. Something was off about him, but as the throng buffeted her forward, Robin didn't have time to consider it. If it hadn't been for the firm hand on her elbow, she would have tripped up the bus steps. Ylistol was twice the size of Plegia City, and that apparently meant the bus crowds were vicious.

With the hand on her elbow steering her through the current of passengers, Robin stumbled into a bus seat. Chrom landed at her side with a relieved exhale. "The eight o'clock is always a zoo," he said. "Nearly lost you for a second there."

"Thanks." Robin twisted around in her seat, hunting for a glimpse of Wren between the forest of suits. The bus was packed, office workers crammed between the two rows of seats like sardines. As the bus lurched into motion, Robin had the horrible sensation Wren had been left behind. He was gone, just like her dream.

"Wren's standing near the front, I think." Chrom leaned into Robin's shoulder and pointed him out. Wren was indeed near the front of the bus, once again wrapped in his paper. Robin released a little breath she hadn't even known she was holding. "Looks like he barely made it on. I'm waiting for the day he topples over reading that newspaper on the bus." With an affectionate smile, Chrom turned around to scope out the other side of the bus. "And Lon'qu and Lissa are standing in the back. Guess we were the only ones who got seats. You must be good luck or something, Robin."

She let out a weak laugh. Wren was still there. Everything was okay. As Robin pressed her forehead out the window and began to watch the apartment complexes and offices whiz by, blending together like paints, Chrom bumped her shoulder with his own. "It's normal. Freaking out over your loved ones being in danger. It doesn't really go away, though." Robin pulled away from the window, and Chrom gave her a sad look. "You can't really stop them, no matter how much you want to. Wren... thinks he's the only one who can save the world."

"If I ask you why, will you tell me that you can't explain?" Robin asked. Chrom's face split in a grin, but it was tinged with a hint of melancholy. Chrom understood, and his presence at her shoulder was comforting. Perhaps Chrom, at least, hadn't changed since he left for college. Perhaps he was still her boyish, charismatic next-door neighbor. "It was a nightmare. I dreamed Wren was gone."

Chrom nodded, slow and thoughtful. "Yeah. That's a common one. Wren and Lissa. I've had that one about the both of them. You know what, though? No matter how many times I've had that dream, Lissa's woken up after that dream, and Wren's fallen out of bed in that dream, we're all still here."

After a pregnant pause, Chrom sighed. "Wren's stressed. Don't tell him I told you this, but things are getting more and more dismal here. More giants, colder nights. More people we can't save. We all blame ourselves for it a little bit, but Wren… for reasons... thinks he deserves more of the blame than the rest of us. If you got hurt—You're his precious sister, even if it doesn't feel like it at the moment. I know it's hard, but stay out of trouble. For Wren. He'd—All of us, really, would do stupid things to protect you."

Tugging at a loose thread in her shorts, Robin glanced up at Chrom. In the two years of her separation from Chrom, Wren, and Lissa, the three had gotten even closer without her. Chrom had finally surpassed her in knowing Wren best. "Would Wren actually… erase my memory? If I had been exposed to all of this before, would Wren really make me forget?"

Robin had to ask, because everything was familiar, sitting on the floor of her mind like some snarled yarn ball she couldn't unravel. Chrom frowned. "I don't think he has. If Wren did, it was without me, and he and I are never far apart. And Wren wouldn't do it without your permission. His sweet spot when it comes to you is embarrassingly large. When he starts rambling about you, even I want to blush."

"But…" As the bus slid to a halt, Robin let it dangle between them. She had forgotten something. Robin was sure, but Chrom was looking down at her in genuine confusion. She wanted to believe him, that Wren wouldn't wipe her memory. It was just… Something was missing, and Wren was the only one that knew how to take it away.

"We're here," Wren said. The crowd had mostly cleared, and Wren was now standing above her and Chrom, eyes flitting between them. "C'mon. You still want to see my college campus, right, Robin?" With a nod, Robin wobbled to her feet and filed out of the seat after Chrom. Wren, her poor older brother almost visibly stretched thin, whether he erased her memory or not, Robin was going to find a way to help him. She wasn't going to be useless. "Just stick with me, do as I say, and everything will be fine."


Soooo, yes, it was mostly a pile of setup, but I swear we're getting super close to action again.

Also, if you happen to be a reader of my High School AU, it's not dead! The chapter's about half done. I'm just so super excited for where I'm going with this story that between this and life I keep getting distracted.

I'd love to hear your opinions and pairing requests in the reviews section or as a PM! Any and all support, advice, and requests are taken under careful consideration. I don't have a beta, so stuff gets missed now and again.

Look forward to the next chapter soon, and goodbye!