#you would not be so quick to assume the nonexistence of vampires...

[wormchamp72]

Thank you. This is invaluable information. I will do my research...

Hello. I am in dire need of assistance, and I fear you may be one of the only ones I can trust 2 provide me with the help I need. As you are a member of the Wormchat, my trust in you is naturally quite high.

You state that you are the number one vampire enthusiast, so I feel it is natural 2 assume that you would know how 2 turn a vampire back in2 a human. Your username claims that "vampires will never hurt you," and though I find that hard 2 believe, I would like it 2 be true. If I am able 2 rid the vampire essence from my mother without harming her, please do let me know.

TL;DR: How do I deal with my mother being turned in2 a vampire and potentially going on a bloodthirsty killing frenzy?

With everlasting gratitude,

Wormchamp72

hello, I regret to inform you that the “vampires will never hurt you” in my username is in reference to a song, and that there have been no proof that vampires are in fact, fully non-mythical in the medical world, not to mention the obvious deficiency in knowledge about them that follows this disbelief of their existence.

However, even in the fictional world, vampires are apparently unable to be turned back into a human by most sources. Instead, I have a more logical interpretation of your situation, if your mother is acting like a vampire in terms of an intolerance to sunlight or severe blood issues, I would consider porphyria, known as “the vampire disease”. However, in regards to your mention of her being “bloodthirsty”, she could have possibly developed Renfeild’s syndrome if it’s evident she craves blood to a concerning extent.

I lend you my apologies if this wasn’t the answer you were looking for. Warm regards,

Zayn.

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Prophecies

Canis Minor (2)

> larissa weems x fem!reader

> requested? no!

> content/warnings: idk what the fuck this is so idk what warnings i should put 🤷🏻‍♀️

> a/n: literally a writer's random thought to another taylor swift song, anw here's the song. Guilty as Sin? tbh i don't know if the song connects to the story but who cares? oh, i do 😭

Drowning in the Blue Nile

She sent me 'Downtown Lights'

I hadn't heard it in a while

My boredom's bone deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

“In what universe did she ever say that to you?” Vlad, may the universe bless his nonexistent soul, asked you.

Meeting Vlad in your first year of teaching was not part of your itinerary in Nevermore, especially befriending the vampire. Yet, things just seemed so normal when you were with him. His straightforwardness stilled you to the ground, and your imagination led him to the stars. You'd assume it was a friendship between the skies themselves. But as time went by, you couldn’t help but feel irritated, as his memory seemed to fail him once more in your latest gossip discourse.

Scratching your nape, you turned to observe the plants sitting on your windowsill. “If my memory serves me right,” you hummed and gave Vlad a glance. “The other night?”

Rolling his eyes, Vlad took a swig of his bloody Mary. “You were with Marilyn the other night.” Lowering his drink to the table, he tsked before giving you a disapproving shake of his head. “I do not like this side of you.”

“That makes the two of us.”

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves

Or the ocean rocks

Crashing into her tonight

She’s a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

“How long have you had forget-me-nots in the greenhouse, Mar?”

Marilyn hummed before looking at you and then at the flowers you now hold. “I’ve had them since I moved here.”

Frowning, you set the pot down and walked towards Marilyn. “I was there when you moved here, was I not?” Sitting on a chair next to her, you watched Marilyn weed her plants and toss them in the bin next to her.

Kneeling upright, Marilyn took a quick look at you before going to her desk. She took a picture frame and gave it to you before kneeling down to continue her work. Inside the frame was a picture of the faculty, with Marilyn and Larissa in the middle, you on Larissa’s left, and Vlad on yours. You traced the picture down to the date signed below it.

11/23/22

Nevermore Faculty

Holding the picture tight, you frowned as you jogged your memory to remember what happened that day. Yet, after minutes of trying, the only thing you got was a migraine. You groaned and went to Marilyn’s desk to return the frame to its rightful place. “Thank you, Mar. I’m afraid I have to go now.”

Watching you leave the greenhouse, Marilyn sighed. She didn’t know how to tell you. And she’s sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one telling you. Let Vlad or whoever else tell you, just not her. No, scratch that, not Vlad. There was only one person who would tell you. It needs to be that person. Not your friends. It needs to be her.

What if she's written 'mine' on my upper thigh?

Only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

“It is getting worse, Marilyn!”

“We can’t tell her, Vlad, not us.”

Sighing, Marilyn watched as Vlad paced vigorously in her office. Although you were their friend, it was not their story to share with you. They couldn’t tell you the whole story without the other side. They couldn't let you hate her while she resents herself for allowing what happened to you to happen.

“The school will open in a few weeks, Mar. She cannot stay in that godforsaken office until then. We need someone to boss us around!” Marilyn understood where Vlad was coming from. In three weeks, the gates of Nevermore will be opened, and the principal has yet to come out of her office. Since the incident, Larissa has chosen to hide within her office. And as the days pass, one by one, the members of the faculty start to lose their minds. They do not know how to function without Larissa, the lone similarity all of them shared.

“She is punishing herself.” Groaning, Vlad opened his bottle of whiskey and took a swig.

“Vlad!” Marilyn hissed as the coach slumped beside her. “It is the middle of the day!”

“And? What is your point, dear friend?” With that, Marilyn slapped Vlad’s arm and left the office to tend the greenhouse.

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Kicking down her office door was not part of the plan, to Marilyn, that is. But for Vlad? It was the first plan B he thought of if Larissa didn’t open the door for them as they knocked. “Larissa! There you are!”

Feeling for the light switch, Marilyn narrowed her eyes as she turned the light on. Only to find the office devoid of any life, apart from a rather emotionless Larissa. “Principal Weems, we apologize for kicking your office door open.” She slapped Vlad on the arm, earning her a scoff from the vampire. Giving Vlad a glare, she tilted her head toward Larissa.

“Ugh, fine.” Marilyn heard Vlad whisper, “I apologize for kicking your door open.” Strolling forward, Vlad sat in front of Larissa’s desk, making Marilyn shake her head in disapproval. “Unbelievable,” she whispered.

Tapping the desk to get Larissa’s attention, Vlad observed the woman before him. This wasn’t the same woman who hired him. That woman was fierce, and the woman in front of him was weak, lifeless, and emotionless. “Larissa, speak to us.” Vlad saw Marilyn join him in his peripheral vision and nodded towards the redhead.

“Please, Principal Weems.”

Turning to look at the two teachers before her, Larissa’s eyes turned glassy. Yet she blinked them away, not wanting her colleagues to see her so sensitive. “Yes, Coach Vlad? Marilyn?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Letting out a chuckle, Larissa rolled her eyes. “Do not patronize me, Vlad.”

Frowning, Marilyn shook her head and took Larissa’s hand in hers. “It’s true. It wasn’t your fault, Larissa. None of it was. It was an incident beyond your control.” Marilyn tightened her hold on the blonde’s hand, desperately trying to let the blonde believe that what happened to you was not her fault.

“It was an incident only she could control,” Vlad added. This made Larissa turn her head toward him, her eyes asking what he meant.

“She,” Vlad gave Marilyn a look before continuing, “had visions of the incident happening, yet she did nothing to prevent it.”

“Why?”

“Visions come to her like prophecies, Larissa. Surely you know why they are called that?” Vlad asked his boss humorously. “Changing a prophecy would mean changing the course of someone’s future.” Shaking his head, Vlad stood up and went to the nearest window. Catching you teaching one of the faculty your tricks in archery, he let out a teary chuckle before turning to look at the women in the room.

“It would mean changing the course of your future, and she couldn’t do that to you. Not when she understands that in every future you have, she isn’t part of it.”

Without ever touching her skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

[hermannsthumb]

Could you do #40 cancelled holiday party? Thank you!

40. i just found out that a friend of a friend of a friend isn’t hosting their annual holiday party this year, so now how am i going to have my annual run in with you?

from winter writing prompts here

happy xmas eve, if you celebrate it!

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

Newt doesn’t really have many friends, and certainly not enough to warrant a flood of party invitations come December, but for the past few years he’s been able to rely pretty consistently on at least one. Back when the band was still together, his drummer had a pretty cool girlfriend who would sometimes let them tag along as the entertainment for parties around town, and her brother (who was almost as cool as her) ended up liking the way they sounded so much he invited them back to his own parties a couple times. Then he dated Newt’s guitarist, and then he broke up with Newt’s guitarist, and then he dated Newt, and then he broke up with Newt, and it sort of fell apart from there (and so did the band), but the breakup was actually pretty amicable, and he’s never failed to extend the invitation to Newt for his annual holiday bash as a courtesy. And Newt’s never failed to make an appearance. What’s there not to like, you know? It’s free booze, free food, and the chance to not feel like a total loser loner for once. Plus…well. Another reason.

But this year isn’t looking too good for Newt.

“Sick?” Newt says. “What do you mean he’s sick?”

“I mean,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, irritably, “he’s sick. Caught the flu or something. I don’t know, Jackie just wanted me to call and tell you, she didn’t give me any details.”

“Couldn’t he have called me himself?” Newt says.

“No,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, “I told you, he has the flu, he’s totally out of it, man. Party’s off this year. Hey, did you get our Christmas card?”

“What? Oh. Yeah,” Newt sighs. He tacked it up on his fridge: the two women with their arms around each other, one pink-haired, one blue-haired, holding up their cat in the middle like it was their son or something. Clever. Quirky. Newt just makes a generic Tweet mid-December wishing everyone a happy holiday season and calls it a success—less effort. “Yeah, it was cute. It’s definitely cancelled? He can’t just, I don’t know, take some Advil or something and—”

“Newt,” she says.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Newt says. “Tell Jackie to tell him to—get well soon? Soon enough for New Year’s, maybe? Because it would be great if—”

She hangs up on him. Newt probably deserved it.

He stalks Jackie’s brother’s Facebook for a bit after the phone call to make sure he’s not just lying about the flu to get out of inviting Newt to the holiday bash he’s definitely having. It becomes clear pretty quick it’s pretty legit—he’s made exactly one post in the last few days, and it’s a selfie of him looking absolutely horrid in his bed, advising everyone to not be like him and get their flu shots. Not lying, then. Damn it. There’s not even going to be anything for Newt to crash.

“Damn it,” Newt groans, and slams his laptop shut.

In all honesty, Newt’s not pissed about missing the party itself. He’s pissed about missing the party guests. How else is he going to have his annual spat at the snack table with his mortal enemy, Dr. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed Gottlieb?

Mortal enemy is too strong. Rival, maybe? Though certainly not a friendly one. He’s fond of Dr. Gottlieb, really, in some insane, backwards kinda way, like he’s a specimen Newt would love nothing more than to cram under a microscope and study up close. What makes him tick? What makes him scowl like that, yell at Newt—more or less a stranger—like that, attend the same party year after year like that only to stand in the darkest corner like a vampire and avoid every single other person? The first time they met was at the party three years ago, when Dr. Gottlieb loudly accused Newt of deliberately snagging the last cucumber finger sandwich because he somehow knew Dr. Gottlieb was eyeing it up, too, and only did it to annoy him, and it’s only gone downhill from there. Or maybe uphill. He fascinates Newt.

He’s also insanely attractive to Newt. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed, but, my God, what a set of cheekbones, what a set of eyes, what a big ‘ole mouth that Newt can only assume would be awesome for kissing. And only a few inches of height on Newt, too; he wouldn’t even need to stretch up that far to test out his hypothesis.

Since Newt has Facebook open, he does another search for Dr. Gottlieb—Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, technically, though he’s furious whenever Newt tries to call him anything other than his full title. If Newt was normal, he’d just shoot the guy a friend request or something. A simple message. He just stalks his page instead, which makes him feel the sting of the cancelled party even more keenly: Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t post, like, any pictures of himself, but the ones he’s been tagged in by his company and someone who appears to be his brother make it very clear very fast that he kinda just got even hotter over the year. He’s started wearing his oversized glasses on a librarian chain, and his haircut—which had always been a severe sort of undercut—has grown out up top to be adorably poofy. Tragic.

He shoots his ex-drummer a text later. Can you ask Jackie to ask about that Gottlieb guy that’s there every year? Like, what’s his deal?

The reply comes later, while Newt is reheating some leftover Chinese takeout for dinner. they’re friends w gottlieb’s younger bro. mostly invite him to be nice.

“Figures,” Newt mutters.

Well, if there won’t be a party at which to have their annual run-in, Newt is simply going to have to orchestrate a run-in himself. The first step is finding out where Gottlieb works.

Newt picks a miserable day to set his plan into action. A snowstorm swept through the city a few days prior, and before the sidewalks were even finished dethawing, a sleet storm followed and turned them into eighty-percent sheets of ice. And then more snow comes. Newt slips and slides all the way to the cafe across from Gottlieb’s humble little robotics research facility, cursing himself for not having invested in proper winter boots yet. Docs are practical and cool, but they could be warmer, and Newt’s are so old the treads are basically nonexistent. He orders himself the most expensive coffee on the menu as a reward for his troubles and claims a chair near the large shop window in front, underneath a hanging fern. He would simply wait and watch for Gottlieb to walk out. The man had to walk out eventually. Lunch break, or coffee break, or even just clocking out for the day. He had to.

“Would you like to see our sandwich menu, sir?” a waitress asks Newt. “We have a new—"

“Nah, no thanks,” Newt says. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the window. “You don’t have to call me sir, by the way. It makes me feel old. Does a Dr. Gottlieb ever come here?”

The waitress snorts involuntarily; she flushes a second later. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s just that—yes, Dr. Gottlieb comes in a lot, and he’s kind of…”

“Awful?” Newt grins.

“Particular,” the waitress says. “He has us remake his coffee if it’s not perfect enough for him. And we have to write out the whole thing, Dr. Gottlieb, on his cup, every time. He tips really well, though, so we don’t really mind.”

“Has he come in today yet?” Newt says.

She opens her mouth as if to answer the question, but then furrows her eyebrows. “Why do you want to know, anyway? Are you guys friends?”

“Not really,” Newt says. Deciding it’s not worth the effort to explain the complex homoeroticism of his dynamic with Gottlieb, and to random waitress who probably doesn’t give a shit at that, he amends “I mean, yes. Good friends. I’ll see that sandwich menu, actually.”

Newt has a nice breakfast of avocado and egg on a bagel, and pretends to do work on his laptop for a few hours, but—to his disappointment—Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t come in for a coffee. Newt doesn’t catch sight of any familiar dark-haired, scowling men walking in or out of the institute, either. Gottlieb must have off today. Maybe it’s for the best, anyway; Newt’s not totally sure what he would’ve done if he ran into the guy on the street, or how he would have even explained why he’s there to Gottlieb if he did. He was just sort of operating under the assumption he’d figure it out in the heat of the moment. He calls it quits around three in the afternoon, not wanting to walk home in the dark after sunset. “Happy holidays,” he tells the baristas gloomily, and steps out into the snow with one last cardboard cup of coffee.

He mulls it all over in his head as he avoids ice patches and passersby on the way home. Should he ask for Dr. Gottlieb’s number? Is it weird to ask your ex, or even his sister, for the number of a guy you’re sorta-interested in? Newt supposes it’s weird to invite your ex to a holiday party in the first place, but he really wasn’t lying about it being amicable. Maybe he wouldn’t care. He could always just send that fucking Facebook friend request. Or he could just wait until next year. It’s just a year.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the patch of ice directly in front of his apartment until he’s already stepping on it, and his stomach flips in a way that lets Newt knows he’s just fucked up; his worn-out boot loses traction, his arms pinwheel, his coffee goes flying, and he lands—

In someone’s arms?

Well, even that’s not totally right. He lands mostly in someone’s arms, but he hears a little oof, an exclamation of surprise, and then they both topple over and into a snowbank. The coffee lands somewhere next to Newt’s head. “Bugger,” a familiar voice groans.

Newt sits up. Dr. Gottlieb is laying on his back next to him, wrapped in a green parka and about three scarves. To Newt’s relief, he doesn’t look angry. More embarrassed than anything else. “Apologies,” he says. “You were heavier than I’d anticipated. Or perhaps I was not as strong as I anticipated.”

“I appreciate it anyway, dude,” Newt says.

He gets to his feet, locates Gottlieb’s cane from where it’s somehow landed on the other side of the sidewalk, then tugs Gottlieb to his feet as well. Gottlieb makes a face as he rights himself. “You ought to watch yourself, and be more careful,” he says. “You could break your neck next time.”

“Worried about me?” Newt says. He dusts some snow off Gottlieb’s shoulders. “What are you doing outside my apartment, dude?”

“Er,” Gottlieb says.

He goes a strange shade of pink, and clears his throat. “I fancied…a walk. In the snow. Fresh air. And I just happened to be—er—” He clears his throat again. “I happened to discover you lived here, and my walk happened to take me by. I wasn’t looking for you, if that’s what you’re implying. Or waiting for you. I have better things to do with myself.”

“Really?” Newt says. “’Cause I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” Gottlieb says.

He really is cute right now, with his red-tipped ears, his dumb coat, his dumb scarves, the snow sticking to his back and his poofy hair. Sticking to his long eyelashes. It’s the first time Newt’s ever seen the guy not, like, at least mildly annoyed at him; it’s doing something funny to his heart. “Hey, you wanna come in for a coffee or something?” he says. “Mine kinda spilled, and I could go for another.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Gottlieb says.

Newt grins. “Come on, I know you want to. It’s cold as shit out and you’ve clearly been out here for a while. We can order a pizza or something, too.”

“Well,” Gottlieb says, and he ducks his head as he finally smiles back. It’s worth the wait, because my God, is it cute, all broad and crooked. Newt has the feeling not too many people get to witness it. “Perhaps for a bit. I was hoping to discuss your latest article with you, you know, and was very put out when I learned I wouldn’t be seeing you at the party this year.”

“Oh?” Newt says. He holds out his hand, and Gottlieb startles visibly a moment before taking it. Newt can feel how cold Gottlieb is even through his thick red mitten—he could use a little warming up. Newt can light a fire in the fireplace he rarely uses…maybe break out some wine…it’ll be nice and romantic… “Did you like it?”

“Not in the slightest,” Gottlieb says cheerily.

“Just what I was hoping,” Newt says. “After you, Doctor.”

[ymiwritesstuff]

I think we need some comedic fluff in these trying times, so Dio x reader, except reader is literally physically incapable of dying. She can be melted, smashed, mutilated, or even severely burned and walk it off like nothing even happened. She's also incredibly sarcastic and just constantly sasses Dio...She's basically DeadPool. "Do you want to die you impudent little wench?!" "Bold of you to assume I can die. Bitch."

This request was really funny to me, and I hope I wrote it in the way you were hoping! Thank you so much and please enjoy!

Vexing

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 1: Phantom Blood

Dio Brando x Fem!Reader

Summary: With a great power came a certain amount of arrogance. And that arrogance you possessed tested the patience of your Lord more often than once.

Notes: A bit of fluff

Dio had seen a great number of bizarre things in his life and these things only seemed to increase in numbers after the powers of the Stone Mask had blessed him. From strange abilities to unique personalities, he had seen it all, and in most cases, overpowered all of them. It didn’t take much to dominate over nearly anyone brave enough to confront him, however, Dio always found some of the people and their powers quite fascinating, only for the sake of gaining more possible followers, of course.

With all that being said, you were able to catch the golden-haired vampire’s attention with your powers and he was fortunate to have gotten you to join him, but just like with everything else, there was a price he had to pay. And that price was simply to try and withstand your quite... Interesting personality. You see, thanks to your ability that possessed great regenerative properties, physical death was practically nonexistent to you. The amount of physical body your body could withstand was massive, and Dio was more than impressed, wanting you to join him as soon as possible. When it came to regeneration, he was outclassed by you, something that didn’t happen often as no one else came close to rivaling his powers. 

However, the current situation was... conflicting for the Lord. While he was fortunate to have you on his side in his fight against Jonathan, he sometimes wondered if he was better off not hearing your constant and sometimes highly obnoxious remarks about your powers, that to him, you took far too much pride in. Dio had always had a short temper. It was a weakness he knew far too well and this weakness was testing his patience more than ever as soon as you had stepped into his castle. Under normal circumstances, he would have disposed of anyone who dared so rudely to vex him, however that possibility was out of his reach. Furthermore, for some reason, he found himself growing fond of you, despite your highly irritating nature. On top of that, you found it quite amusing when your Lord was clearly frustrated with you. You would never anger him past a certain point, but the sheer sight of him angrily, yet somewhat childishly glaring at your smirking form amused you greatly.

~

Dio walked in the hallways of his lair that was surrounded by the darkness provided by a yet another night, heading towards the loud sound that had pierced his rather sharp ears moments ago. The noise was unexpected and sudden, as if something heavy had fallen on the harsh stone floor in one of the many rooms. Though there was no need for concern, the blond thought it best to investigate the cause of this precipitous commotion.

Once he opened the door to the room and saw you sitting on the floor with your hand under a piece of rubble that had fallen from the wall of the sturdy, but quite old castle, the vampire raised his brow and silently watched as you tried to pry your hand free from its prison, no expressions of pain apparent on your face.

“Oh, hello, Lord Dio. So kind of you to come here and help, I really appreciate it,” You say once you turn your head to him, your voice feigning gratitude and kindness, as you stare at him with a slight smirk as you finally free your now mangled hand from under the heavy stone, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind it, one that the Lord could very clearly smell. “However...” Your eyes glance at your bloody and crushed hand, that would have left anyone else screaming in agony, slowly watching it as it heals before your very eyes.

“Did you perhaps forget that this kind of damage has no effect on me? Not that I blame you, by any means. Frankly, I sometimes forget it myself too.” You slowly move your fingers to make sure everything is intact again and return your (E/C) eyes to the man before you, that smirk of yours never fading from your lips.

Dio scoffs, and crosses his arms, his sharp amber eyes looking at you, their threatening flames having little to no effect on you. One could say that you were quite used to his burning gaze. “Your arrogance is quite vexing, (Name). Are you perhaps in a hurry to die?” His voice is as intimidating and threatening as ever, the tone he often uses in order to evoke utter fear and terror in his unfortunate victims. The threat he almost unwittingly lets out, despite knowing full well how you are going to react to it, hangs in the air for a few moments before the somewhat grueling silence is broken by your response Dio knew he was getting from the moment his words instinctively left his mouth:

“You know, I would love to know how dying felt like,” You say as you finally stand up and take a few confident steps towards him, that playful and mischievous sparkle in your eyes glowing stronger than ever as you bow before him, the simple action serving as a sign of submission Dio wouldn’t have otherwise minded. “Could you perhaps assist me in granting my little wish? I do recall you being quite strong after all.” Something inside Dio’s hollow insides twitch in increasing frustration at your words which are merely playful in nature and for a brief moment he considers landing a devastating blow on you, which would ultimately result in nothing and he doesn’t want to actually hurt you or lose his temper, hence he decides to hold himself back and instead, turns his back to you, the feelings of annoyance still very much present in him.

“My patience has its limits, my dear. Or did you perhaps forget about that?” A small smile dances on your delicate lips as you walk up to him, placing a considerate hand on his broad shoulder. Dio then feels the familiar sensation of your lips tenderly touching the cold skin of his cheek, the action taking away all the negative energy from his body that was raging inside him like a storm just a moment ago.

“Of course not. But I also know that you wouldn’t hurt me.” Dio raises a curious eyebrow at your words and looks at you, hints of his own playfulness apparent in his amber orbs. “And what makes you think that, (Name)?” Upon noticing the slight change in the tone of his voice, you lightly giggle at him and walk in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Well firstly, you simply wouldn’t be able to. And secondly-,” Your lips somewhat suddenly meet his in a quick kiss that admittedly makes Dio feel a certain sensation of warmth he hasn’t felt in years.

“Because you love me.”

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Faespeak

CHAPTER ONE

SUMMARY: Ever since the end of the war, wizards have attempted to negotiate peace between them and the magical creatures of the world- to limited success. Werewolves, vampires, centaurs- the ones who were able to speak English were easier to negotiate with, but how would one speak to a creature who doesn't share the same language as you? To that end, wizards have been trying to find a way to understand Faespeak, (a universal language that all magical creatures are able to understand) without much success.

Enter Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, a white-haired pureblood wizard who absolutely could not understand Faespeak. Until he can. And it couldn't possibly have anything to do with Harry Potter. (Or, it could have everything to do with him, and Draco is fucked.)

New WIP, only a few chapters written so far but I need motivation so why not post a preview?

A typical day for Draco Malfoy went as the following: Waking up amongst his silk bed sheets, taking a shower and using his special purple conditioner to keep his white hair not looking yellow, eating a well-made breakfast delivered by the remaining house elf of Malfoy Manor (Timpy), going to work as an Unspeakable in the Ministry- the work required usually changed every other day, with every new artifact he successfully researched- before finally coming back home to his lonely apartment and watching a quick show on the telly before bed. And yes, Draco did know what a telly was. He had it installed by Pansy, and he refused to admit to her that he didn't know how to do anything besides turning it off and on. The fact that it seemed to be stuck on the MTV channel certainly didn't bother him. It was just a part of his daily routine now.

A routine that quickly got thrown off balance the day he spotted a fae in the Ministry's Atrium. They had been forcefully pushed toward the central fountain, a few rowdy wizards yelling what seemed to be insults toward the fae, though Draco wasn't close enough to hear. As he continued walking from the floos toward the elevator, he took a small detour, watching the fae slump on the ground against the fountain- fortunately they hadn't fallen in the water.

As he got closer, he could start to make out the details of the fae, besides the incredibly long and pointed ears he had seen from a distance, the tell-tale sign of a fae. They had short hair, closely cropped on the sides with a wild poof of hair at the top, all coloured a deep magenta, even the roots. Their skin colour was incredibly tanned, as if they spent a long time in the sun, and they were shorter than Draco, though that wasn't very hard to achieve. As they glanced up to meet the eyes of Draco, their irises shone a bright aquamarine, seeming to sparkle as light glanced off of them.

Draco reached out a hand toward them, bending slightly to reach them better. "Do you need a hand up? Or perhaps directions?"

They studied him, their eyes flickering just above him before relief flooded their face and they grasped Draco's hand and pulled. Their light weight surprised Draco, feeling as if they weighed nothing at all. And then they opened their mouth, with a happy smile and kind eyes, but all that came out was the sound of wind chimes and jingling bells. Draco understood immediately, raising his hands in front of him and shaking his head.

"Oh, you mistake me. I'm no fae."

This made them pause, the twinkling noise halting, accompanying a face that seemed confused. They placed their hands on their hips before pointing toward Draco's head.

"I assure you, I'm a pureblood wizard." He lowered his arms, rubbing them against his robes, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. They stood there for a minute, staring at each other before Draco took a cautious step back. "I do apologize, but perhaps you can find someone else who can help." He nodded, as if that was the end of this, before stepping around the fae and taking a few steps toward the elevators.

He turned cautiously to peek as he walked, noticing quickly that the fae was following him step for step. He stopped and raised his hands once more, shaking his head. "You can't follow me, I don't know how to help you. You'll have better luck out here." He stood there a moment longer, watching the fae before cautiously taking a few steps backward. Again, the fae matched each step. He sighed, shaking his head. "They won't let you follow me, you know. Not all the way. They'll stop you before I reach my destination."

At this, he saw the fae huff what looked like a laugh before they crossed their arms and raised their eyebrows in a challenge. Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Merlin help me."

The fae immediately opened their mouth, the tinkling sound was faster this time, as if speaking in a rush, and Draco heard what almost sounded like faint thunder in the undercurrent of their voice. They ended their tirade, huffing in what appeared to be annoyance before taking a few steps closer to Draco and raising their eyebrows. 

Draco wasn't exactly sure what they were trying to say, but he assumed it was something along the lines of 'Well hurry along then! And I'll follow for no good reason!' Draco just sighed in response, turning around and continuing his journey to the elevators. Unsurprisingly, the fae stepped on right after him. 

}{}{}{}{}{}{

The elevator jarred to a stop, shaking both occupants slightly. The fae stopped their talking (a tirade that still made no sense to Draco, but sounded nice if he stood and listened to the wind chimes), and they reached their hands out wildly toward the walls to hold themself up, their wide eyes searching the small box. The doors clicked open- Draco glanced up to the floor number, noting it wasn't his stop yet- and in walked another person. 

Draco and Harry made eye contact, and Harry paused midstep, halfway into the elevator already. Their eyes were locked for what seemed like minutes before Harry forcefully moved his eyes away, noticing the fae for the first time. He cleared his throat and lowered his head before stepping inside the elevator fully, letting the doors slide shut finally. Draco took a discreet step back to gain as much distance from Harry as he could, letting his vision fall to the floor.

"Oh great, even more people in the death trap box, what could possibly go wrong?" The voice who spoke startled him, sounding much higher pitched than Harry's voice- but wasn't it just him and...?

Draco glanced up quickly, meeting the fae's eyes in a panic. The fae glanced at him with exasperation, studying his face and slowly becoming confused. "Wait, did you just hear me?"

"You can talk?" 

"What?" Harry turned toward Draco, raising his eyebrows, and Draco's eyes flickered uncertainly to Harry before looking back toward the fae. 

"Were you just tricking me before?" Draco asked, crossing his arms, adopting a stern expression. The fae, in response, only turned giddy and started waving their arms around, squealing. 

"Yes! I knew it! I knew you'd be able to hear me!"

"What are you talking about Malfoy?" Harry glanced at the fae, looking uncertain, before turning a stern look on Draco. "Are you trying to bully this fae?"

The fae themself burst out laughing at this, placing a hand on their mouth to try to muffle the sound. "What," Draco replied, slightly breathless, "Please tell me you can hear them speak, Potter." He waved a hand toward the fae, who placed their hands on their hips and turned expectantly towards Harry.

Confused, Harry shook his head slightly. "No, I just hear faespeak." Harry studied Draco for a moment longer before opening his mouth, his hand lifting as if he were reaching for something. Then- the elevator dinged and the doors opened, startling the three of them, who turned to look at the floor number.

"This is me then," Draco mumbled, pushing past Harry and out onto the floor he worked on, glancing back to notice the fae pushing past Harry just as quickly, trying to catch up to Draco.

"Wait, so you can understand me then? Oh, I have so much that I need help with, I can't find a single wizard-" The fae began to ramble, their hands flying this way and that to show emphasis. Draco turned toward the elevator, catching Harry's gaze just before the doors closed between them.

Then he began to hear the jingling bells and wind chimes once more, and he turned toward the fae, confused. They were continuing whichever rant they started, having not realized that Draco no longer understood. Sighing, Draco shook his head slowly, laying a hand on their arm.

"I'm sorry, I can't understand you anymore." The fae jumped, their eyes widening before their chiming became faster, until Draco heard what sounded something like a faint siren behind their tone and he realized they were panicking. He placed a hand on their cheek, looking into their eyes. "Hey, it's okay. We'll find someone to help you."

Draco glanced around discreetly, not noticing anyone in the lobby aside from the receptionist, who was very obviously pretending to not listen by reading a book that she was holding upside down. Draco took the fae's hand, dragging them toward a set of double doors, waving off the receptionist's squawk of, "You can't go in there!" and quickly calling out behind them, "They're with me!"

The hallway in the Unspeakables division was confusing. Purposefully so, enchanted to feel as if taking a step took five seconds but travelled a mile. Walls zipped by, windows bent out of shape and reformed into perfect rectangles showing a zen picture of the galaxy outside their walls, swirling colours of purples and pinks and greens making it seem like a painting more than reality, but Draco had always loved the mystery of it. Doors flew by, numbers and names obscured by a blurry vision when you tried to focus on them, so Draco resolutely looks forward, avoiding them all together. He knew where he was going anyway.

After three windows on the left, a right turn, and two doors down on the left Draco finally stops. He can read his own name on the nameplate, enchanted to recognize his magical core, and he placed a hand on the handle to unlock the wards surrounding his lab. After a few seconds Draco finally pushes the door open, dragging the fae inside quickly and closing the door behind them. "Apologies, I know that hallway is very unpleasant. Especially the first time." Draco replaces his hand on the door knob, reaching his magic out to pluck the different wards together, replacing the protections on his lab. Draco has always learned you could never be too careful, but in the Unspeakable Division, simply forgetting to replace your wards could result in heavy casualties. They were constantly on alert.

Turning around to see the fae with a hand pressed to their chest, Draco summons a glass to himself and fills it with water from his wand, handing the glass over to the fae. They accept gratefully, taking giant gulps of the water. Draco refills it once they finish drinking half the cup, then turns and begins to tidy up his lab, making sure nothing dangerous or classified might've been laying around for a fae to accidentally mess with.

}{}{}{}{}{}{

Draco froze at the sound of a curt knock, and he whipped his head toward the door to his lab, attempting to remember his schedule for the day. He had only planned on studying his newest artifact all day, hadn't he? But that didn't seem like enough work for an entire day.

On the walk toward his door he made a small detour to his desk, pulling out a long drawer to look down at his calendar, scanning the month until he found the current day, noting a star with an HG next to it. "Salazar..."

Taking a deep breath, he jogged to the door, opening it just enough to show himself but none of the room behind himself. Not too suspicious, many Unspeakables tend to be very private of their labs, she won't think too much of it. Or at least, he tried to convince himself of that.

"Unspeakable Granger, hello,"

"Unspeakable-"

"So sorry, I seem to have mistaken the day. If we could postpone our meeting by another hour? I have some pressing circumstances-"

"I'm sure I could help with anything you've gotten yourself into, Draco." Hermione spoke with a sharp tongue and a hard glint in her eye, but she smiled politely and raised her eyebrows. Draco had expected her to try and peek around Draco to see into the room, but her eyes were trained on his own and he tried not to falter under such an intense gaze.

"As true as that may be, I-" He was interrupted by the sound of wind chimes and dinner bells, and sighed deeply at Hermione's astonished expression. "Alright, in you come then."

The moment he stepped back, Hermione pushed into the room, looking around quickly before her eyes landed on the fae, who seemed to be very pleased with themself, smiling brightly toward Hermione. They opened their mouth again, talking at length about something neither Unspeakable could understand, and seemed to enjoy the full focus of Hermione as she listened and approached slowly.

Draco closed the door, feeling the magical locks slide back into place before slowly walking back toward the others. After a short time the fae stopped speaking, looking toward Draco with a disappointed expression. "I don't know, okay?" 

"You don't know?" Hermione seemed incredibly puzzled before shaking her head, narrowing her eyes slightly at him. "Wait, do you understand what they're saying?"

"No," Draco sighed, slumping onto a stool set next to some lab equipment. "That's what I was saying, I don't know."

"So you... don't know?" Hermione asked, turning back to the fae and tilting her head. "Okay, so why are they here?"

"I don't know."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned to look back at Draco. "Alright, their name at least?"

Draco placed his elbows on his knees and sighed again, dropping his head down into his hands. "Again, don't know."

"Okay, how about this. What is it you do know?" Draco could imagine Hermione standing in her pose once again, arms crossed and hip cocked with one eyebrow up and a look on her face that said she knew she was the smartest in the room. The fact that she was most times still didnt take away the fact that Draco got aggravated every time he saw it. He would just keep his eyes closed then.

"The first time I seen them was about thirty minutes ago in the Atrium." Draco heard her hum before he continued, "They were knocked down onto the floor and no one else was helping them up, so I offered my hand. When they stood, they pointed at my head and spoke in faespeak."

"Your head? Did they point to a specific part or just gesture to your whole head?" 

Draco sighed, looking up to see Hermione standing in just a normal pose, notebook and muggle pencil in hand. He shrugged before the fae stepped closer and waved between them, smiling. They walked next to Draco before pinching his hair and lifting it up.

"My hair?" He asked incredulously, shaking his head and sighing, studying the fae.

"Wait, they can understand us?" Hermione asked, sounding excited as she stared at them. The fae nodded, approaching her and turning their head to look at her notebook. Hermione grinned, jotting some more notes down before gesturing toward Draco. "Anything else?"

"Well, they spoke English in the elevator."

When he answered, both heads turned sharply toward him, Hermione immediately launching into, "Spoke English? A fae? That's unheard of!" Meanwhile the fae themself crossed their arms and began speaking in a loud clanging sound and Draco raised his hands quickly in defense, widening his eyes.

"Okay! Okay!" When they both calmed down he nodded slowly, then rephrased. "Alright, so perhaps not English. In the elevator, they spoke, and I understood it."

"You understood," Hermione repeated, turning to cast a curious glance toward the fae. In response the fae just huffed loudly, crossing their arms and muttering a short response in faespeak. "Right," Hermione replied, nodding before writing something down on her notepad, the fae leaning over to peek at it once more. "So, what had happened? The enclosed space?"

"That doesn't make any sense, Granger," Draco mumbled, his eyes dancing around his lab. He wouldn't mention his own theory on that, and the failed experiment where he had pulled them into his storage closet for five minutes. The most awkward five minutes of his life.

"No, you're right. Perhaps it was something on a specific floor you passed? Or-" Hermione huffed, glancing up at him, "How about you just explain to me what happened in detail?"

"After we stepped into the elevator, they kept speaking in faespeak." Draco hesitated before waving a hand nonchalantly, "Some people got on, and at some point I heard them say something about how the elevator was a metal death trap," At this the fae clapped loudly before nodding quickly, obviously agreeing, "And then the elevator was on our level so we got off, and they were speaking in faespeak once more."

Hermione hummed, nodding slowly before writing something on her notepad, then tapping her muggle pencil against it. "So, it might be a floor close to ours? But not quite here?"

The wind chimes sounded once more and both wizards turned toward the fae, who crossed their arms and looked meaningfully at Draco.

"What?" The fae huffed, placing their hands in the air against each other before pulling away and miming stepping through the gap.

"Oh," Hermione lifted her pencil quickly, turning toward Draco. "Who got on the elevator with you?" The fae clapped quickly, nodding along and pointing toward Draco. He narrowed his eyes slightly, studying them. They couldn't have possibly known...?

"It was Potter."

"What?" Hermione yelped, glancing quickly between the two before taking a step closer to Draco. "What do you mean- Harry is the one that entered the elevator when they spoke? What did he say?"

"He accused me of bullying the fae." He sent a hard glare toward her before standing from his stool and striding to the other side of his lab. "He didn't hear them talk, I asked. He only heard faespeak."

"Then- wait this makes no sense. So only you can understand faespeak while you're... standing near Harry?"

Draco threw Hermione a disbelieving glance, rolling his eyes in response.

"Yes, that sounds completely plausible, Granger. Let's continue focusing on that hypothesis." 

"Maybe we should!" Hermione replied defiantly, glaring toward Draco with her hands now on her hips. "Maybe I should get Harry and see if it works."

"Yes, let's steal the Head Auror from his very important business to come down to the Unspeakable level, where he's not allowed, to test some ridiculous theory that he somehow affects me to the point of understanding the universal magical creature language!"

He sucked in a breath, finishing his tirade with a hand wave as if dismissing the matter. Hermione just cocked her hip and raised an eyebrow in response. "There are so many things wrong with what you've just said. You do know Harry isn't the Head Auror, right?" Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I know he's been offered the position. Obviously he'll take it."

"Who said he's taking it?"

"Well he's the bloody boy saviour isn't he?" Draco burst out, waving a hand around again, "It's his whole thing! He goes around saving anyone he can! Obviously he'll take the position, better to help people with." Draco nodded, as if this were obvious. He glanced over to see the fae watching them both with open interest, leaning against the counter along the wall.

Hermione hummed along, lifting her notepad and writing a few more notes. "Either way, there's a simple solution. The three of us will just go to the Auror division, and seek him out. I'm sure Head Auror Robards won't mind a small, impromptu work meeting." Draco huffed, crossing his arms.

"I'm afraid you're forgetting that I have some very important, work related business to attend to in my lab."

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione snapped, glaring up at him, "If you think I don't know that you're only arguing for the sake of arguing, then hold your breath. If you're truly worried about your project, I'd like to note that I know for a fact you have no project to currently work on, as the meeting we were about to discuss was about your next work assignment. And now that I've gathered more information, I can confidently say your new work project is to figure out how you were able to understand this fae, replicate it, and experiment to see if other wizards can possibly do the same. Being able to speak and understand the fae language will go a long way to establishing trust and communication between wizards and all magical creatures."

Hermione finished in a huff and Draco took in a steady breath, studying her serious posture. He lowered his eyes, mumbling a quiet, "Bloody heroic Gryffindors," before he stood and removed his lab coat, exchanging it for the peacoat he wore into the building, and placed his hand on the door handle to his lab to remove the magical locks.

[badchoicesposts]

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 21

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar), Platonic!Drake x MC

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I’ve based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season.

Also, I’ve never been pregnant so the small amount of information about pregnancy that I stated in this chapter was based purely on my research on the topic. I apologize if any of it it inaccurate.

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @ao719, @kingliam2019, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @lauradowning29, @texaskitten30, @senseofduties, @alexintheskyy, @jared2612

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve ever written. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Catch Up: Masterlist

“Hey, do you know about the vampire rock band? I heard they sucked!”

Liam groaned causing Ali to chuckle evilly. He sat up against the headboard of his bed and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his lap. She rested her back comfortably against his chest, and continued to flip through the joke book that she had gotten from the discount bookshop that they had visited earlier that day. The man rested his chin on her shoulder, reading some of the jokes over her shoulder as she turned the pages. 

“Okay, how about this one? Just burned 2,000 calories. That’s the last time I leave brownies in the oven while I nap,” she tried again, desperate to get him to laugh at something. 

“I believe that’s what people call a fire hazard,” Liam said, gently rubbing his hand up and down her arm. 

Ali groaned at his response and leaned back further into his chest, letting her legs stretch out in front of her. 

“I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down,” she said, giggling to herself. 

“I love it when you laugh,” he whispered softly in her ear. 

The sincerity in his voice took her breath away for a moment. She smiled, knowing that he meant it. 

“I love it when you laugh too. That’s why I’ve been reading you puns for the past half an hour,” she said playfully, turning her head just enough to place a soft kiss on his jaw. 

Liam buried his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She was just about to read out a joke about Cinderella being thrown off of a sports team for running away from the ball when she heard it. He said the words so quietly that she almost thought she had imagined it. But, then he whispered it again. His lips brushing up against the shell of her ear. 

“I love you.” 

They had never said that to each other before. Ali’s entire body seized up for a moment before she relaxed again. A large, goofy smile spread across her face as she turned in his arms to face him. There was a mixture of hope and hesitation in his eyes as she looked at his face. 

“I love you too,” she said, biting her lip to keep from smiling too much and creeping him out. 

He brushed his lips against hers gently, before they returned back to their previous position of her leaning back against him. Neither of them spoke for a moment, but they both knew that something had changed between them. The silence was interrupted by Liam’s low chuckle a few minutes later.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m positive I just lost an electron. Better keep an ion that.” 

~~~

The four of them had managed to make it out of the palace without a hitch. Or at least, no one said anything if they had seen them leaving. 

“Are we going to the beach?” Ali asked, recognizing the route they were taking to the wedding venue.

“Close,” Maxwell said. 

She looked down at her bouquet of baby blue and white hydrangeas, racking her brain in attempts to think of a place that would be appropriate for a wedding. 

“Forgotten Falls,” she finally said, her face lighting up. 

Maxwell nodded, a smile on his face as well. She had no doubt that getting married in front of the waterfall would be gorgeous. She just hoped in silence that she didn’t get any mud or dirt on her dress. 

The car pulled over on the side of the road, and Ali caught sight of Bastien standing nearby, waiting for them. He opened her door for her, holding out his hand to help her out of the car.

“My lady,” he greeted her with a small smile. 

“Hey, Bas,” she responded, taking his hand and sliding out of the car with expert precision. 

Funnily enough, it was something that Bertrand had made her practice several times. She had always found it ridiculous, but he was concerned that she would accidentally flash someone if she didn’t do it right. The thought of it made her smile now. 

“Everyone’s waiting for you just beyond those trees,” he spoke. 

Ali took a deep breath and nodded her head. She was really about to do this. Emma, Hana, and Lizzie both pulled her into a quick hug, whispering reassurances in her ear before making their way out to meet the rest of the group. Maxwell followed soon after, sniffling loudly against her shoulder before pulling away and bringing Cole along with him. 

Ali chuckled. He had been almost as emotional as her throughout this whole process. She took a breath and prepared to make her way forward when Drake appeared in front of her. 

“Are you ready to do this?” he asked, smiling down at her softly. 

“Yeah, I’m terrified, but definitely ready.”

She pulled him into a tight hug.

“I told you everything would be okay,” he said softly in her ear. 

“We don’t know that for sure yet,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “But, I think you might be right.” 

She mumbled the last part under her breath, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. 

“I’m always right.” 

Ali scoffed in response, but smiled at him anyway. She gazed up at him for a moment before pulling him into another hug, squeezing him tightly as a few tears began to well up in her eyes. She tried to pour all of her gratitude into the hug. Drake had been more supportive than she could have ever hoped for. He had been with her every step of the way, even when she was too afraid to go to Liam. He had been there to support her and encourage her.

“Drake, will you walk with me? You know, down the nonexistent aisle?” she asked, smiling up at him hopefully.  

His jaw dropped, and he looked down at her in shock. 

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine anyone else doing it,” she admitted. “I want you to give me away.”

The man looked as if he were becoming emotional. He was outwardly sarcastic and liked to act as if he didn’t care about anything, but he had been like a brother to Ali. He cleared his throat loudly, and she could see tears well up in his eyes.

“Of course,” he said, holding his arm out to her. 

Ali reached forward and took his arm, ready to get married. However, she turned back toward Bastien at the last second, remembering what she and Liam heard that night after the dinner party. 

“Liam and I heard what Constantine said that night after we left his office. He wanted dirt on me, but you still kept the pregnancy to yourself. Thank you. I know you got… reprimanded for it, but I appreciate it,” she said. 

The man smiled at her in return. Even though he didn’t speak, she could tell that he appreciated her sentiments. 

“There’s still something that’s been bothering me,” she began. “I’m sure you found my hospital records. Why didn’t you go to Constantine with it. I’m sure something like that was exactly what he was looking for.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Bastien replied with a wink, nodding her along.

Ali turned back to the trees and allowed Drake to lead her forward. They only traveled a few steps before the waterfall came into sight. Liam was standing in front of it with Leo a few inches behind them. The rest of their friends and Ana de Luca were standing around them, clearing a path in the middle. The couple made eye contact with each other, and everyone else seemed to fade away. 

The two of them came to a stop in front of the prince, parting ways with gentle, congratulatory smiles. Ali handed her bouquet to Hana, who was standing closest and took both of Liam’s hands in hers. 

“You look… radiant, my love,” he said quietly, his eyes filled with emotion and glistening with unshed tears. 

Ali struggled with her words, her own tears already falling and causing Liam to chuckle. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers in a reassuring gesture, neither of them taking their eyes off of the other. 

“We have gathered here today to join this man and this woman, who is way too good for him, in the sacred bond of marriage,” Leo began, pulling them out of their moment and causing everyone around them to erupt in laughter. 

“In all seriousness, I will be the first to admit that I don’t know Ali very well. We may not have spent much time together, but I do know that I have never seen my brother happier than when he’s with her, and I think it’s safe to assume that she’s pretty happy with him too.”

This prompted another round of laughter from the crowd, and Ali flashed Leo a playful smile.

“The love that these two have for each other is the kind of love that people spend a lifetime searching for. They’re willing to fight for each other and stand together even when things want to break them apart. I can’t imagine anyone more deserving of a happily ever after.”

Ali reached up to wipe away a stray tear that was falling down Liam’s cheek. He caught her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on her palm, before lowering their entwined fingers again. 

“Now, I believe that you wanted to recite your own vows,” Leo said, looking at the two of them expectantly. 

Ali’s mind began to race. She hadn’t prepared anything. However, Liam saved her the stress of speaking first. The joy in his eyes as he began to recite his vows was overwhelming, and it took her breath away. 

“The day you came into my life changed things forever. I thought I knew who I was, how my life was supposed to go. But, I met you and you helped me see a life I never thought was possible for me to have. You helped me see a part of myself that I didn’t know existed. I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you. You bring out the best in me, and you’ve made me a better man. Everyday I am inspired by your strength and the endless amount of love that you’ve shown not only to me, but to everyone you meet. I promise to honor and cherish you, to love you and fight for you for the rest of my life,” he said, articulating his words perfectly. 

Ali was a mess. She was definitely crying now, and not graceful crying, ugly crying. She reached up to wipe away her tears, knowing exactly what she wanted to say.

“Liam, I accepted stable as my standard of living a long time ago. I would get up everyday and go through the motions and that was that. I became so desensitized to everything. I had become so used to bad feelings that stable was all I could hope for. But, then I met you, and I was happy. I once heard that loving someone, truly loving them, isn’t about being willing to die for them but wanting to live for them, and I don’t think truer words have ever been spoken. You brought color into my life. I wasn’t just stable anymore. I was happy, and I wanted to live my life to the fullest. I wanted to live it with you. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, Liam. I want to experience everything with you. I want to have a family with you, and I want to grow old with you. I can’t imagine it ever being any other way,” she said. 

Sniffles were heard from all around them, their friends happy to celebrate their love. 

“That was beautiful,” Leo began, smiling at the two of them and wiping away a tear of his own. “Can we have the rings please?” 

Drake reached over and gave them each a ring, squeezing Ali’s hand gently as he placed it in her palm. 

“Liam, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and times of trial, till death do you part?”

“I do,” Liam says never taking his eyes off of her. 

“Ali, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Leo turned to her and asked. “Do you vow to love him, comfort him, and cherish him, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and times of trial, till death do you part?”

“I do,” Ali said, sliding Liam’s wedding band onto his finger. 

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she once again found herself overcome with emotion.

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom of Cordonia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Brother, kiss the bride,” Leo finished, his voice soft but filled with happiness. 

Ali threw her arms around Liam’s neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, the cheers of their friends being drowned out as they lost themselves in each other. Liam wound his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her cheeks were wet, but she couldn’t tell if it was because she was crying or because he was. They parted with one last peck on the lips and turned towards the people around them. 

The two were immediately pulled into a hug by Maxwell. He had one arm wrapped around each of them and was leaning his head against Ali’s shoulder as he congratulated them. They were bombarded with more calls of congratulations as soon as Maxwell pulled away, everyone ready to offer their best wishes. 

“Congratulations. There’s really no getting out now,” Leo joked as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Welcome to the family!”

“Thank you, Leo,” she said, laughing as she squeezed him back. 

“Take good care of him, okay?”

“I will,” she promised before moving onto see Luca and Ezra.

They both pulled her into a hug, Ezra tentatively placing a hand on her stomach, before congratulating her on both the baby and the wedding. Olivia nodded stoically in her direction, and Emma and Hana congratulated her together, their fingers entwined with each other. The group made their way back to the road, one of Ali’s hands holding up her dress and the other squeezing Liam’s hand, squeezing her husband’s hand. 

They stopped in front of a motorcycle parked by the side of the road, and Leo handed his brother a set of keys. Ali raised her brows at the two of them in surprise.

“Really?” she asked.

Liam shrugged in response. 

“I didn’t even know that you could drive a motorcycle,” she said in disbelief.

“I’m not always predictable,” Liam said simply, causing her to laugh heartily.

He motioned for her to get on, and she gathered her skirt in front of her so that she could swing her leg over the seat. She plucked the helmet from Leo’s hands, watching as Liam pulled one on as well before deliberately sitting on her skirt so that it wouldn’t fly up as they drove. 

“Take care of her, Liam!” Leo called as the motorcycle roared to life.

“Do you mean the bike or my wife?” Liam called back.

“Both!” 

With that the motorcycle took off down the street, the sounds of their friends cheering behind them being drowned out by the noise coming from the bike. Ali held onto Liam tightly as the wind blew against her skin, making her feel freer than she had since coming to Cordonia. They drove along the coast for a few minutes before stopping by a small house right on the beach.

“What is this place?” she asked, pulling off the helmet and handing it off to him. 

“It’s Leo’s. He wanted a place of his own in Cordonia. Somewhere away from court where he didn’t have to deal with our father or the hassle of being a royal. He so graciously offered it to us for tonight.”

“Well, that was very nice of him,” she said, taking his hand again as he began walking to the door of the house. 

After fiddling with the keys for a few moments, Liam finally pushed the door open, letting it swing out in front of them. He turned to Ali with a mischievous look in his eyes, causing her to raise her brows in question. 

“I believe it’s my job to carry you over the threshold,” he said, scooping her up bridal style. 

She squealed in surprise and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Does it really matter if it’s not our house?” she asked.

Liam shrugged and made a show of stepping into the house and kicking the door closed behind him. He walked through the house with Ali in his arms and finally came to a halt in the bedroom, where he placed her down gently on the edge of the bed before kneeling on the ground before her. He pulled his wife into a sweet kiss, the two of them savoring their first moment alone as a married couple. After a moment, she pulled away from the kiss, gently stroking the stubble on his jaw with her thumbs as she cupped the sides of his face. 

“Did we really just get married?” she asked in shock, still in awe of what they just did.

“We did,” he responded, looking up at her admiringly. 

“So, what now?” 

“Now, I spend the night in my wife’s arms,” Liam said, standing up and pulling Ali with him and into another kiss. 

This one started off slowly but quickly became more urgent and needy. Ali pulled away from the kiss, her breathing heavy as she looked up into his desire filled eyes. 

“I should warn you. I was told that my underwear is very boring, and not at all suitable for our wedding night,” she said, with a smirk. 

She gasped in surprise as Liam spun her around. Her back was pressed against his chest and he slowly pulled the hair comb out of her hair, before sweeping the dark curls aside to expose her neck. He placed a gentle kiss on the skin there, moving his hand up to undo the small button at the top of her dress. 

“Don’t worry. You won’t be wearing it long anyway,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

His hands moved lower, and he began to unlace the back of the dress, his mouth following close after, eager to kiss every inch of the newly exposed skin. Ali closed her eyes and let her head fall back in pleasure, revelling in the feeling of his hands and lips on her bare skin. His name fell softly from her lips, and true to his word, he made sure that she wasn’t wearing her underwear for much longer.

Ali awoke the next morning to Liam gently running his fingers through her sleep mussed hair. She snuggled deeper into his chest, tired but happy. 

“Good morning,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to her hairline.

“No, I’m still asleep,” she slurred her words slightly, pulling a laugh from her partner. 

They lay in silence for a few more moments, before Liam spoke up once again. 

“The article was released.”

Ali, who had been about to fall back asleep, now suddenly felt wide awake. 

“And?” she asked, hopeful for positive news. 

“People are mostly shocked, which I can’t blame them for. It was a very abrupt wedding.”

“Do you regret it?” she questioned.

“Not for a second. I don’t expect everyone to be happy about this, but to me it feels like it was the right thing,” he admitted, pulling her closer. 

“Then, I guess we’ll have to work extra hard to prove to everyone that it is the right thing,” she concluded. 

The two shared one last gentle kiss, before the sound of the house’s front door opening pulled them out of their little bubble of happiness and back into the real world. 

“I brought clothes!” Leo called from behind the bedroom door. 

“And breakfast!” Maxwell chimed in as well. 

The couple separated, and Ali pulled the bed sheets up closer around her chest as Liam went to open the door. He was greeted happily by them as he wedged himself between the opening and the doorframe, obscuring their view inside. He reentered the room with a small duffle bag and the garment bag that Ali’s wedding dress had been in. After shifting through the duffle bag for a moment, he handed her a change of clothes and began to get dressed himself. 

“Emma gave specific instructions to hang your dress,” Liam motioned to the garment bag that he had thrown on the bed. 

Ali looked over to where her dress lay in a pile on the floor, suddenly feeling bad for leaving it there the night before. 

“Don’t tell her we did that,” she said with a cringe, picking it up extra carefully.

Her stomach grumbled loudly while she pulled on her shirt, causing her to blush. 

“It’s a good thing they brought breakfast,” she said, exiting the room and making her way out to where Maxwell and Leo were casually munching on pastries on the couch. 

“So how was your night?” Maxwell asked nonchalantly as Leo smirked on. 

She playfully shoved him and dropped down on the couch in between him and Leo, grabbing a to-go cup of coffee from the small coffee table in front of them. She took a small sip of the hot liquid, wanting to savor the only cup that she would be able to have today. 

“Did you see our father before you came here this morning?” Liam asked, settling into an armchair and helping himself to a muffin.

“I conveniently left the palace before the article was published. I’m sure he’s furious though. He might disown me for conducting the ceremony,” Leo said casually, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa. 

Ali wanted to say something comforting to him, but Leo seemed completely unaffected by the thought of their father disowning him.

“Do you want to see the pictures?” Maxwell asked excitedly, unintentionally changing the subject.

He showed Ali several pictures of her and Liam at the ceremony, looking happily into each others’ eyes. There were some of them crying as they said their vows and a few of them sharing their first kiss as a married couple. 

“I think that one is my favorite.”

She pointed out a picture of her and Liam pressing their foreheads together just before the ceremony had begun. It was moments after seeing each other for the first time in their wedding attire. They were lost in each other’s eyes, their love for one another clearly expressed in their features. 

A soft knock on the front door, brought her out of her blissful state, and she watched in silence as Leo got up to see who had arrived. 

“I was sent to make sure Liam and Ali returned home,” Bastien said sternly, upon entering the room. 

Everyone exchanged nervous glances, but agreed that it was time to return. Ali sat in the backseat of the large SUV next to Liam, anxiously tapping her fingers against his thigh. He smiled at her sympathetically but didn’t try to stop her movements, knowing that it was helping her get her nervous energy out. 

There was an odd energy at the palace when they returned. It was as if everyone was collectively holding their breath and waiting for something terrible to happen. Ali, Liam, and Leo made their way up to Constantine’s office in a tense silence, all aware that they were guaranteed to find him in a rage. They opened to door to find both him and Regina waiting for them. 

“What have you done?” he asked angrily. 

[adorealeclightwood]

Alec in 3x04.

Okay, I haven’t decided on a format for how I’ll be doing this, but a name and episode number will suffice for the time being.

First of all, I’m really happy the first scene we got with Alec was at the institute. I mentioned that I love to see him work, because I do! Often times, when you have a character in a relationship, that ends up being the only thing you see. If it’s an LGBTQ relationship, chances are, their entire storyline will become nonexistent, and they end up being “that one gay character”, or whatever. I’m glad that both Alec and Magnus are able to remain well rounded characters and have a healthy relationship simultaneously. Other shows could stand to take a few notes. 

In regards to him working, this is the content I’ve been waiting for. Alec is a leader; he wants to get shit done the right way. When he’s standing there questioning Morgan and Izzy enters the room, you can tell he’s been at it for a while. There’s an owl demon out killing mundanes, and he wants to put an end to it. Anyone else would’ve likely killed Morgan without a second thought, but he’d rather find the source and deal with things from there, which is exactly what I’d expect from someone as intelligent as Alec. I spoke about character development because it’s a far cry from the Alec I knew in season one (don’t get it twisted, I loved him back then just as much as I love him in this season). 

Now, there’s something I’ve wanted to get off my chest since 3x03. Am I supposed to believe that Alexander Gideon intellectual, king of knowing when something is wrong, master bullshit detector Lightwood can’t sense that his parabatai is a victim of demonic possession? This is probably more of a writing thing, but I’m going to discuss it anyway. 

Their souls are bound, guys. Closer than blood. No human bond compares. It’s not like “hm, I think my buddy is a little sad right now”. They can feel each other, and they can tell when the other is hurt. Jace brought a piece of Alec’s soul back to him, for crying out loud. If Jace is losing sleep, unable to remember where he was, or how he got from point A to B, and being plagued by nightmares, I - a logical young woman - would assume that there’s no way in hell Alec is just carrying on as if everything is normal. 

Fortunately, he doesn’t disappoint. Clary comes in asking to have Jace pulled from a mission, and you can practically see his bullshit sensors going off. Rightfully so, because when has Jace ever switched out willingly? She starts spouting the same crap about Jace being tired, and he isn’t buying it. “When you and Jace were at Lake Lyn, my parabatai rune disappeared. There’s a reason for that.” That line was executed PERFECTLY. He knows something went down, and he’s giving her the opportunity to speak up. She lies again, and I can feel the frustration in that sigh because it’s so relatable. You’re being lied to, and you know you’re being lied to, but you can’t get to the bottom of it because you weren’t there when whatever happened actually happened, and you don’t have any details. Meanwhile, someone you care about is going through some rough shit, and you can’t help them.

I’d also like to point out that he acknowledges how much Clary cares about Jace. At this point, he probably knows she’s protecting him somehow, and although he appreciates that, he still needs to know what the hell is going on, and he manages to get that point across without disregarding her feelings, which is nice to see. He asks Clary to tell him if it’s anything serious, and she doesn’t even bother lying - she bails. She’s walking out of his office, and you can sense the frustration again. He’s dealing with the possessions and murders, trying to track down the owl, harboring his mother’s secret about being stripped of her runes and exiled (which none of his siblings are currently aware of), and on top of all that, he doesn’t know what’s wrong with Jace because he’s being lied to by both him and Clary. That’s enough to make anyone feel helpless, and helplessness isn’t something you want to feel when you’re the one in charge. In other words, my boy is stressed, honey.        

Quick note: I meant what I said about wanting more scenes with Alec and Clary. I’ve always found their dynamic interesting, and now that she’s actively keeping a huge secret from him about Jace, it adds a new level of angst to their relationship, and may actually hinder or prevent their friendship from growing. We know Alec is big on honesty, so this is now the second time he’s asked her flat out what went down at the lake, and she’s lied to his face. I don’t know about you, but I’m super anxious to see how that plays out. Will he lose his shit and have her turned in while he finds a way to protect Jace? Will he ask Magnus to help Jace? Will he be angry at all? Who knows!

Now, it’s Malec time. I know you were waiting for it. 

I said something about them being functional, and I can’t even begin to express how happy I am that they are. Alec isn’t just the Shadowhunter fresh out of the closet, and Magnus isn’t some glittery warlock he’s hooking up with. Alec is the head of the institute, actively doing his job and trying to track down a demon that no one’s seen before, and stop it from possessing and killing mundanes. Magnus isn’t the high warlock of Brooklyn anymore, but he’s still useful. He didn’t even want to go to that party in 3x01, but he went anyway, because it was his duty. There’s old, dark, dangerous magic lurking around, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. He’s helpful and supportive. They’re both active - we get to see them actually do things. What I’m trying to say is, I’m a sucker for the soft stuff, but I’m super happy that there’s more to each of them than their relationship. I hope that makes sense! Whew.

Now, back to Alec.

Right off the bat, you can tell he’s going through it. He hasn’t been eating or drinking because he’s so worried. If anyone is able to help Jace, it should be him, but he can’t, because he doesn’t know how. Magnus offers some comforting words (like the kind, thoughtful man he is), and not even five seconds later, Alec is already moving on to the next task. Again with the leadership! Yes, he’s worried about his parabatai, but he’s got other things to deal with as well. They’ve reached a dead end with the owl situation, but he’s still looking for some answers, because let’s be real, do we expect anything less from Alec? Once again, Magnus is ready to help, and Alec is essentially like “cool, thanks”, but he’s still upset, because when you’ve got twenty things going wrong and you can’t fix any of them, it’s hard to take a breather. 

I want to talk about him coming back to the institute for a second. (I’m jumping around a lot, I know. I’d apologize, but this is how my brain works. I’ll do better next week, I promise.) The security system goes haywire, and while I’m sitting here thinking their IT department needs to update their firewalls, Alec shows up. Apparently it’s only been down for a few minutes, but the look on his face when the other girl says she hopes it was just a glitch, I just...

(I’m sorry, but I have a weakness for attractive, agitated men. Sue me.)

Anyway, they head down to where Morgan is being kept, and he sees her lying on the ground and takes a pause. She looks dead, but she can’t be. He wanted to save her. Magnus works his magic, and bam! She’s alive and confused, but no longer possessed. Then, Alec reassures her and says she’s okay. 

THIS IS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, PEOPLE. Remember when he referred to Simon as “it” while he was a mundane? “Mundanes. Look at them, running around like ants.” I have to admit: sassy, sarcastic, asshole Alec was truly a gem, but I am loving this turnaround. After all, we wouldn’t love certain characters half as much if they didn’t evolve in one way or another, right? 

Right. Moving on.     

When Alec finds Jace staring into the mirror, I replayed the first few seconds four or five times. Just seeing Jace look so lost and slightly afraid, then Alec comes in teasing him, and he jumps a little, and you can see that cocky facade slipping back into place. I’m pointing that out because Jace is hiding something. He’s hiding something from his parabatai, and Alec picks up on it in a heartbeat. He asks why he pulled the security footage, and naturally, Jace is defensive. Under different circumstances, I’m sure some bickering would ensue, but Alec doesn’t engage. He just wants Jace to know he’s looking out for him. Alec is practically telling him the same thing he told Clary; “I know you’re not alright, you’re lying to me, but I want you to tell me the truth”. (Not verbatim of course, but you guys get what I’m saying.) 

I’ve seen some people saying that Alec bringing up Jace’s birth mother’s mental illness was out of line, but I disagree. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with Jace, all he knows is that he hasn’t been sleeping, he looks like hell, and nothing feels right. They deal with other shadowhunters, angels, demons, vampires, werewolves, warlocks, and seelies on a daily basis, but they’re half mundane themselves. They’re human, too. Mental illness is a very human thing, so it wouldn’t make sense to rule that out completely. Jace thinks that Alec is calling him crazy, but he wants him to know that that isn’t what he’s saying. He’s just trying to help - as usual. 

I enjoyed this scene because it shows how their relationship has been affected by Jace being under Lilith’s control. In season one, Alec had a problem with Jace running around doing God knows what with Clary. They fought about it, but they got through it. They had a huge fight when Alec tried taking Meliorn to the silent brothers, but they resolved that too. In season two, Alec got possessed and killed Clary’s mother. He was up on the roof, blaming himself, and Jace went up there to talk to him. Alec ended up leaving, but still, they talked it out. (I hope you’re seeing a pattern here.) In the past, they managed to work their shit out and move on. This time, things are different, because neither one of them truly knows what’s going on. Alec has no idea that Jace was literally killed and resurrected, and Jace has no idea that he’s the owl that’s got Alec so stressed. 

Honey, we’ve got a big storm coming.

That’s all I’ve got for now, and I’ll be back with more discourse next week. In the meantime, if you have any questions, comments, or requests, let me know, and I’ll happily oblige! 

Now, go hunt some shadows! (Or continue scrolling, whatever makes you happy.) 

Bye.

[cudan2]

The Scarf Not Taken

Word Count: 2,035

Summary: Carlisle goes clubbing to get his first taste of the New York nightlife. It doesn’t go quiet as planned.

A/N: Many moons ago, I promised @kellythepitiablefangirl that I’d tell the story of how Carlisle found out he didn’t like clubbing (#6 on my headcanon list). That was Christmas. Of 2016. Woops. Without further ado, here is my terrible writing. (A little Carlisle x Reader because we don’t get enough of that.) Please note that I’ve never actually been to a club and also thanks Kelly for helping me with this!

Masterlist

XXX

“It’ll be fun,” they said. “You’ll like it.”

Oh, how wrong they were.

The night started off with Carlisle standing in his unnecessarily expansive closet. Sounds of crickets chirping and wind blowing through the surrounding New Jersey forests were accompanied by the soft melody of Liszt’s “Liebestraum” coming from speakers in the adjoining bedroom.

Carlisle wore his typical attire: grey slacks, a striped button down, and a knitted pullover – also grey. Of course, no outfit would be complete without a signature scarf he grabbed off from a rack and tied around his neck.

He headed downstairs to meet his family, or just Rosalie and Emmett in this case. Edward and Bella were at Dartmouth and everyone else, including you, happened to be on a two and a half month vacation in Europe.

It was two and a half months too long.

Although Carlisle wished for you to experience the world, he missed the feeling of your body in his arms. He missed seeing your lips purse as you concentrated on something or how you were able to make him feel as though nothing else in the world mattered. He missed you. Despite calling or FaceTiming you nearly every night, it just wasn’t the same.  

Meanwhile, it was one of the several nights Carlisle had off from the hospital – a mandatory break from his boss. With nothing to do, he felt it appropriate to finally experience the modern nightlife near his new home. New York City wasn’t coined “The City that Never Sleeps” for nothing.

However, he wasn’t so sure clubbing was the kind of nightlife he wanted to experience no matter how much Emmett insisted on it. It just didn’t seem like an activity a nearly 380-year-old vampire would be particularly interested in. But then again, he’d been proven wrong before.  

“What are you wearing?” Rosalie exclaimed in horror from the bottom of the staircase the moment Carlisle came into view. He stared curiously at her.

“I was told to dress comfortably.”

“We told you to wear something comfortable. That doesn’t mean you have to look like you’re going to an early-bird special,” Emmett laughed.

“Well technically, I am an old man.”

“But to a human, you are 23. There is no way in hell anyone will let you in dressed like that,” Rosalie scoffed, eying Carlisle’s clothes distastefully. “Alice would keel over if she saw you.”

“She probably did, assuming she wasn’t buying every piece of clothing in Paris. Or y’know, doing the dirty deed with Jazz.” He wiggled his eyebrows before his mate roughly hit his chest. Carlisle’s eyebrows scrunched slightly at Emmett’s crudeness. It was enough to have to live with everyone and their… late night activities. He didn’t need to be reminded of it every other moment.

“Emmett!” She groaned loudly before dragging Carlisle upstairs by the arm. “Argh, you people sometimes! I swear!”

Carlisle walked down the stairs for the second time that night, this time followed by Rosalie. She’d forced him into a barely worn t-shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans that were tighter than what he was used to, finally topped off with a blazer. His beloved scarf had been discarded somewhere in his closet. Carlisle hadn’t even left the house yet and he was already feeling out of his element.

Rosalie told him they were using “Uber” to get to the club – something about acting like a normal human. Quite frankly, she had made absolutely no sense to him but he didn’t question her. They knew what they were doing, right?  

Fate just had to prove him wrong though. When Rosalie called for the Uber, Carlisle didn’t expect to see a tiny sedan pull up in front of their house. He also didn’t expect to be forced to sit in the passenger seat, surrounded by the stench of vomit, cigarettes, garbage, and what he suspected was some sort of illegal substance. The driver was shaking and for some asinine reason, no one decided to get out of the car.

“Are you alright?” Carlisle asked.

The driver turned towards him and offered a lopsided, toothy grin. “Awesome, dude!”

Carlisle couldn’t ignore the red eyes and dilated pupils that stared back at him. He stiffened and sent a mental prayer that they wouldn’t get into an accident.

The hour it took to get from the outskirts of Alpine to the Meatpacking District was one of the most uncomfortable experiences he’s ever endured. After a while, Carlisle had resigned to holding his breath in order to stop inhaling in the horrid smells. It was almost as bad as a candle store.

Carlisle sighed. Rosalie and Emmett seemed like they were having fun so far though.  

After paying the driver, the three of them stepped out of the cramped car, and the sedan sped off to endanger someone else’s life.  

The street was bathed in glaring red lights. Sweat and alcohol infiltrated his nose and loud music flowed out from club, assaulting his ears.

They made their way towards the end of a line already wrapped around the block. Both the men and women lining the wall eyed him – some with lust, others with awe or envy. He swore it was the pants that put him on display like that.

Oh, how he wished you could be here tonight with him. At least then he wouldn’t be so inclined to sprint off. With every minute that passed by, Carlisle felt the urge to go home becoming stronger and stronger. Honestly, how those two managed to peer pressure him into clubbing was beyond him. And Carlisle thought he was the one with self-control.

Over an hour and a half had passed by the time they even reached the inside of the club. Carlisle felt the thundering bass reverberate through his chest while the artist spat out words at a rapid fire. Every corner of the club was packed with people either getting drinks or… good god, was that seriously what people considered dancing nowadays?

He felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned around.

“Dance with me!” a girl that barely looked 21 shouted at him. He smelled the alcohol roll off her with every breath she took. Carlisle wildly looked around for Emmett and Rosalie before realizing that he’d been abandoned.

Of course they would leave him.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” She then began grinding against him much to his surprise. He tried to step back, but there were just too many people around him to move away far enough.

He didn’t enjoy this at all. How you would react if you found out this happened… he couldn’t even fathom it.

“Hey! Get the fuck away from my girlfriend!” Carlisle felt a hand on his shoulder and took this as a cue to quickly step aside and dodge a fist flying towards him. Another fist came at him but was easily dodged again. He mentally groaned. Why on earth did he agree to come here tonight?

“Please, I believe there was a misunderstanding,” Carlisle said before any bystanders could get hurt.

“I don’t give a shit! Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you,” the boyfriend huffed, realizing he wouldn’t be able to land any hits, and stomped away with the girlfriend.

Carlisle stared after them in bewilderment. He was definitely too old to be dealing with these sorts of things, or that was how he felt in comparison to everyone else in this cramped place.

To avoid that… situation again, he made his way towards the bar where the crowd was thinning. Bad luck seemed to strike once more. Not paying attention to where he was going, Carlisle bumped into another body and what smelled like vodka spilled onto his blazer. Now Alice was going to kill him when she got home.

“You asshole! That was seventeen dollars!” a man seethed at him.

“I’m terribly sorry about that. Perhaps I could buy you another–”

“Just get out of my sight. I can get my own drink.” The man pushed pass Carlisle, muttering more obscenities under his breath.

Carlisle sighed for what seemed like the millionth time tonight. Clubbing really wasn’t meeting any of his expectations, even if those expectations were practically nonexistent to begin with.

The vodka was starting to soak through the blazer. He maneuvered through a sea of people and finally discovered a bathroom in the back. Opening the door, he found the room to be just as filthy as predicted. The dim lights did nothing to hide the revolting grime on the floor, the shattered mirrors, or the peeling paint. He was almost afraid to walk further than the doorframe. He heard a loud moan and looked towards the one stall – a shaking stall. Two pairs of legs could be seen.

Carlisle decided that he had truly entered the first ring of hell itself.

He swiftly turned around, blazer be damned, only to find someone running towards him. He meant to move out of the way, but it was too late. Vomit spilled onto his shoes and formed a puddle where he stood. There was nothing he could do but stand there.

“I’m so sorry about my friend!” a woman came rushing up.

“It’s… fine…” He offered them a strained smile. The woman helped her friend into the bathroom behind him. Carlisle shook the vomit off his shoes, or as much would come off anyway. It was time to go home.  

Skirting around the crowd to avoid being seen, Carlisle ran for the closest exit he could find. The cool air blew across his face as he darted back to New Jersey, sending a quick text to Rosalie and Emmett to let them know that he’d left. Cars and streetlights quickly morphed into blurs of trees. Somewhere along the way, his vomit-covered shoes found home in a dumpster.

He didn’t notice that your scent had filled the house once again when he came home. Too focused on the terrible night he just had, Carlisle hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone until he heard the sound of a page turning from upstairs. He sprinted to the bedroom you both shared and there you were, sitting up in bed with a book in your hands and wearing only your underwear and one of his long-sleeved shirts.

“You’re home,” he breathed out.

You looked up from the book with a smirk playing on your lips. “I am.”

In less than a second, you were in his arms. He twirled you around the room, kissing you as though it’d been years since you last saw each other. Neither of you could contain the laughter that permeated through the air when he put you down. His hands cupped you cheeks, golden eyes gazing down at the face he’s thought about for so long. Nothing else mattered now that you were home.

“You have no idea how much I have missed you, my darling. Why are you here? I thought you weren’t supposed to be home for another two weeks. Where is everyone else?” Carlisle continued his questions until you shushed him with another lingering kiss. His hands slowly moved down to your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Carlisle!” you giggled, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Calm down, Alice just thought you could use some cheering up after the night you’ve had. I cannot believe you of all people went clubbing.”

A wry expression formed on his face. “I didn’t particularly care for it.”

Another laugh escaped from you. “Of course you didn’t. Clubbing isn’t fun when you’re incapable of getting drunk.” Oh. Carlisle mentally reminded himself to confront Emmett and Rosalie about that later.

“Alice should’ve sent you sooner. It would have spared me from that awful experience.” His forehead came to rest on yours, but you nudged him back.

“Okay, as much as I love you and would love to spend the rest of eternity like this, please go take a shower,” you pushed him towards the bathroom. “You smell disgusting.”

“My apologies, darling. Perhaps you could join me?” Carlisle offered, grinning.

“Maybe when you stop smelling like a bad college memory.”      

[chaiteakusuri]

Running with a Ghost: Chapter 3

Chp:1  Chp:2 Read Chp 3 on my Ao3. 

Chapter 3: Haunting Hour.

           “Ah...Oh... This is trouble.” A voice rang out around the unconscious American. “Terrible trouble.” The voice added. Alfred laid unconscious in a decorative thorn bush off the running trail. “Curse my impatience.” The voice chided. Inspection of the surrounding area would reveal nothing aside from the shattered lights; Alfred had managed to collapse so completely into the shrub that, even if someone came by, they probably wouldn't notice the poor man.

           “So fragile...” the voice mumbled. The music still played softly from the cellphone the American somehow managed to keep a grip on; if Alfred had any skill, apparently, it was grip of steel.

           “Hmm, interesting music.” the voice mused, seemingly having decided to settle in beside the, well, scene. “I hope you wake up soon, it’s chilly today.” the voice said as if Alfred could hear. A smile seemed to play through the voice. “So silly.”.

           Potentially 30 to 45 minutes later, Alfred groaned, willing his eyes open. He squirmed, grimacing as thorns from the bush scraped harshly at any exposed skin. Alfred whined in dismay; just what in the hell happened?

           Alfred began sitting himself up, counting his blessings that his glasses managed to stay on his face; perhaps he should get contacts. He held his glasses in place, groaning softly once more as he removed some of the bush fragments from his hair.

           “When I find the person who did this I’m gonna kill them.” Alfred growled softly through clenched teeth, apparently having temporarily forgotten the events that led to his current situation.

           “Too late!” A close, very close, voice chirped and then continued without missing a beat, “Your glasses flew off when you fell; you’re so clumsy aren’t you?” The voice continued happily “It was a lot of effort to pick up your glasses and put them on your face, but I did it.” the voice said, feelings of pride in the male sounding voice, sounding like they expected praise.

           Because of the voice’s continued rambling, Alfred wasn’t as uprooted by the reply of ‘too late’ as he should have been. Instead, Alfred whipped his head around to find the owner of the voice. He looked to his right, he looked to his left, he looked behind himself and he looked in front of himself, but the owner was nowhere to be seen. Only when he looked up to inspect the lampposts did he notice him.

           “Hello! Privet!” A spectral figure several feet in the air greeted as they locked eyes. “I like your music!” the specter continued, the ethereal scarf he wore around his neck blowing gently in the breeze. All that remained to light the area was the full moon shining down, moon beams draping over the trees and the man floating above the horrified American.

           “I was wondering though: just what is that ‘X’ person going to give to them?” the ghost continued, happy it would seem to hold a conversation with himself because Alfred was rendered speechless before his spectral visitor. Alfred’s blood ran cold at the sight of the ghost, translucent and fear inspiring.

           The ghost seemed to continue talking, but Alfred had completely tuned the man out after he- it said hello. Several seconds passed before the American’s terror seized control over his legs; he scrambled quickly out of the bush, uncaring of the scraps left by the thorns. Alfred dared a glance at the man, letting out a horrified cry as it bubbled up and escaped from his throat.

           “O-Oh do not have a frighten; I am Iv-” The ghost began but was cut off by another fearful cry. Alfred’s legs darted forward, placing him back on the path. The ghost watched in shock, he drifted down to be closer, but, upon noticing his advance, the blonde completely and utterly lost it.

           Alfred howled in terror, reduced to nonsensical outbursts as he began a mad dash for the park’s exit. “Oh my god! Please! No!” he roared, running down the path, leaving a shocked ghost behind him. Alfred refused to look back as he ran, regardless of the cries he heard which must have been from the ghost, trying to lure him back to his death.            “Wait! No!” The ghost cried, giving chase after the blonde. But the American continued his retreat, not giving the ghost a word or look as he fled.

           Anger swelled up in the ghost and as Alfred was reaching the exit, the ghost burst with emotion and intense anger, “Leave then!” they wailed, throwing their head back with a cry of anguish, “I never liked you! Leave!” They continued to wail, making the busted lights spasm with sparks of electricity, “Leave!” The ghost sobbed.

           And Alfred was doing just that: leaving. Alfred did, however, spare the specter behind him a look and when he did, Alfred couldn’t help but feel like he was the evil one there. Despite the stab of guilt in his heart, though, the terrified man didn’t slow in the slightest as he continued his retreat, sobs from the ghost thankfully growing softer and then nonexistent as he ran back for his home.

           In record time, Alfred burst back into his home, slamming the door behind him as he was worried the whole sprint home that the evil spirit was chasing him home.

           “God, Christ, Alfred!” A voice cried “it’s so late and you weren’t home yet!”

           Alfred was pressed, flush against the wooden door when his brother walked into the room, “Alfred I tried calling you, like, five times, but you weren’t-” The man stopped himself short as he noticed the state his brother was in. “Alfred. Alfred what’s wrong?” The brother asked while approaching the horrified man. “Did something happen at the park? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Matthew said.

           The simple mention of the word ‘ghost’ was enough to elicit a startled gasp and cringe from his brother.

           “Ghost?” Matthew repeated curiously, recreating the same effect. He frowned, his concerned expression morphing into a stern one. “Really, Alfred? A ghost?” He said in disbelief.

           “There was a ghost, Matt!” Alfred wailed in response when he was finally able to find his words.

           “Alfre-”

           “There was!” Alfred wailed once more, “While I was running the lights were freaking out--!”

           “Al that doesn’t mean--”            “The lights were buggin’ out and then they all started bustin’ like Bam bam bam BAM! ‘N they were was all bustin’ towards me and I heard him Matt!”

           “Alfred it was probably just--”

           “I saw him Matt!” I saw him!” Alfred shouted, “I saw him- it and it was floating right above me! It made me pass out in a bush!”

           Matthew looked at his brother with measurably less concern as Alfred continued explaining “Alfred, what really happened?” He asked, “Did someone attack you? Al, please-”

           “Matt!” Alfred cried in dismay, looking at his brother as if the other had just told him their parents died.

           By this point in his life, Matthew had grown used to dealing with his brother’s obsessions and ‘encounters’ with the supernatural. First it was that Francis, the man who lived down the street, was a vampire. Then it was Alfred’s co-worker, Arthur, who practiced black magic and “definitely” was “in cahoots” with the “vampire”. Then there was that situation when Alfred was dead-set on some poor traveler walking a werewolf; all of this on top of the idea that his brother was not attacked by a ghost? Matthew sighed at the thought- annoyed, but still at least a little worried about his frazzled brother.

           “...The ghost knocked you out?” he asked, humoring his brother, for now.

           Alfred huffed softly, calming down slowly, “No... he scared the shit outta me ‘n I passed out in a bush.”

           “What’d the ghost do again?” Matthew wondered, using the time his brother took to explain to look over Alfred for any serious injuries. When he found nothing aside from minor scratches, the Canadian decided to cut his losses and settle into the fact that Alfred must have just been spooked by an electrical problem on his run and made something up that he thought really happened.

           “...and then I ran home.” Alfred finished as Matthew brought his attention back to his brother’s words. Since Alfred didn't seem hurt and the man made it home fine, Matthew continued to humor his brother; upon returning to this thought later, Matthew would assume he himself played quite a large role in Alfred’s continued “encounters” with the supernatural.

           “The ghost didn’t hurt you?” He asked, moving over to a couch to sit himself down.

           Alfred watched his brother and knit his brow, as if confused by the question. “...No.” Alfred mumbled after a moment; this bothered him greatly.

           The more Alfred thought about it, the ghost hadn’t been very ghost-like at all. Yes, it floated and was see through, but it didn’t hurt him, or shriek, or try to steal his soul.

           “Well what did it do?” Matthew wondered from where he lay on the couch, apathy beginning to reign over the man’s mood as the time ticked closer and closer to midnight, dismissing sleep to make sure his brother was okay after the ‘ghost attack’.

           Alfred blinked, “Uh...” he thought. Well, it certainly scared the life out of him, surely. But, with continued thought, the ghost seemed to become more and more... amicable?

           “Maybe that ghost just wanted to be your friend or something,” Matthew began, curling himself up on the couch, pulling a blanket over himself as he decided that that was where he’d sleep for the evening, “and you probably just screamed at it and ran away like a big hoser.” Matthew japed, missed sarcasm oozing from his voice. “Poor Casper.” He added after a moment, situating himself comfortably on the couch; scorn had truly taken over the Canadian this evening.

           Alfred blinked, mildly surprised by his brother’s words, “Dude...” Alfred mumbled, growing visibly conflicted. In a quick moment, however, Alfred shook the thought from his mind and the emotion from his face. “Ghosts are evil, Matt. That’s why they’re stuck here, cuz they’re evil.” Alfred affirmed, mainly for himself.

           “Sure, whatever.” Matthew mumbled as Alfred turned off the room light for him and quickly shuffled his way to his bedroom.

           “Ghosts. Pff.” Matthew huffed softly, allowing himself to drift to sleep as he heard his brother’s bedroom door close.