#‘floods and everything’ makes it sound like rose is just pouring water on the living room floor and thats really funny actually

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

MOM: last time i gaev rose barbie dolls i caught her renacting the apocalips with them, floods and everythng 

MOM: im scard of that girl

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands. 

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes. 

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...” 

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys. 

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

 “You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 5

Harry confronts you with a familiar piece of suspiciously folded parchment, and you tell him the story of how you helped create it (mostly told through flashbacks taking place in the Marauders era).

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 5 .:Narrow Spaces and New Alliances:. 

Your eyes drifted open slowly, the bright streams of sunlight coming in through your window strangely unbecoming of 12 Grimmauld Place. It took you a moment to get your bearings as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and remembered where you were. As you sat there, looking around Sirius' guest bedroom, last night's events all seemed to flood back to you at once. You groaned into the comforter, feeling your face burn as you recalled blatantly staring at his lips just minutes after crying into his shirt for at least half an hour.

Come on, get it together, you thought to yourself, you're here because Dumbledore summoned you, stay on task.

However, as soon as that memory left your head another replaced it, this one weighing heavier on your chest. You found yourself thinking back to your encounter with Severus. Well, as much as you could call it an 'encounter.' Even when you couldn't see him, you could feel him when you reached out to him with your mind. Severus was good at blocking legillemency— too good, in fact, because you would know the familiar force of his mental shield anywhere. You'd never felt it as powerful coming from anyone else. You almost laughed at the irony of it; the very thing he was trying to use to keep hidden was exactly what had given him away. That, and the smell of him, which took you back to the moment you'd first smelled that damn amortentia potion. . .

You tried to shake off the thought as you properly got out of bed and changed into some casual clothes. The next Order meeting wasn't until tomorrow afternoon, so you had the day mostly to yourself, but you knew the next time you were all in a room together you would have to address some things privately if you had any hope of working together efficiently. You gently padded down the wooden stairs, the door to Sirius' room still closed. He never was an early riser.

As you reached the kitchen you began to put a pot of coffee on when you heard someone approach the room, stalling in the kitchen entrance. You turned around to see Harry in the doorway.

“Morning,” you grinned, turning back to the counter and using your wand to bring some water to a boil, “Coffee? Tea?”

“Oh,” Harry said, a bit embarrassed you'd caught him in mid-thought, “no, I'm okay.”

“What's on your mind?” you asked.

“Um, I was wondering if you could tell me, I mean, if you have the time. . .” he trailed off, reaching for his back pocket, “well, the thing is, a few years ago I found—”

“Kreacher heard sounds coming from the kitchen and did not expect (Y/n)'s return,” Harry jumped at the house elf's sudden arrival, but you seemed unphased.  

“Though master's half mudblood godson remains here,” the elf muttered to himself, “How many more days must it be?”

“Hello, Kreacher,” you greeted him, “nothing nasty about Harry, now, alright? Don't forget he's my godson too.”

“Of course,” Kreacher said, thickly sarcastic but with respect for you in his tone nonetheless. His permanent frown seemed to deepen, however, when he saw you next to the coffee maker. “(Y/n) of house (L/n) should not have to be using the kitchen. Mistress Black would have wept to see a pureblood use muggle equipment. If (Y/n) requires refreshment Kreacher will have it ready.”

“There's no need for that,” you said, “Besides, it's done already, see? You can go on now.”

Kreacher squinted at the cup you poured for yourself. “Always peculiar,” he grumbled, stalking away at your request and muttering to himself all the while.

“He's oddly. . . nice to you,” Harry said, green eyes quizzical behind his round-framed glasses.

“He is,” you chuckled.

“But, well, you're—”

“A blood traitor?” you gave him an easy smile when you saw his expression, easing his fears that he'd actually offended you. “I know,” you said, “he's been through a lot, it's complicated. Trust me, he wasn't always like this to me. It takes time. And it doesn't hurt to be nice to him either.”

Harry decided against bringing up that the nicest person that he knew to the house elf was Hermione, who Kreacher regularly called a 'mudblood wench,' but decided to focus on the 'taking time' part of your statement, wondering  just how long this kind of progress took with the spiteful elf. Besides, you seemed to have some sort of history with him.

“Anyways, what was it you were saying?” you asked Harry.

“Oh, right,” he said, reaching back around him, “um, my friends Fred and George, you've met them?”

“Molly and Arthur's twins, of course,” you smiled, “little imps, they are. Those two could give your father and Sirius a run for their money.”

“Right!” Harry said, “well, that's sort of the point. They're the ones who gave me this.”

As you turned around to face him you stalled mid-stir, nearly dropping your mug as you did. Even as a piece of blank parchment you knew what it was, the distinctive accordion folds that met in the center giving it away.

“How in the world. . .” you trailed off as Harry handed it to you, “but Filch—”

“Didn't do a very good job of hiding it, apparently,” Harry finished, “I thought you might want to do the honors?”

You nodded wordlessly, a pang of unexpected emotion hitting you as you pressed your wand to the map's center.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The faded, brown ink showed itself as its protection charm was washed away, revealing the nostalgia-inducing inscription scrawled in your respective handwritings:

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs are proud to present: The Marauders Map

“Do Remus and Sirius know you have this?” you asked Harry, who nodded.

“Professor Lupin gave it back to me third year before he left Hogwarts,” he said, “but he never told me anything about it after that.” he seemed deep in thought for a moment before looking up at you. “If everyone else is who I think it is, you're Fangs, right?”

It was your turn to nod now.

“I always wondered, how did you do it?” Harry said, hardly containing his curiosity, and you couldn't help but think how much he looked like James in that moment. “How does it work? What sort of magic did you use? All the secret passageways, how did you find them?”

“Alright, slow down,” you laughed lightly, giving in, “I suppose there's no harm in telling you.”

Harry brightened at that, bounding into the living room and taking a seat on the couch as if to say 'we've got all day,' which you did. It warmed your heart to see him so excited, this was one of the only ways he could get to know his parents— through the stories that remained from the people who loved them. If you could help the picture of his family in his mind become a bit clearer, you would tell him any story he wanted to know. He deserved that much after everything he'd been through.

You took a seat opposite him, still nursing your cup of coffee.

“Well,” you said, “it's a long story, starting with how bad those lot were at keeping secrets. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Run!” James half shouted half laughed as Filch hobbled after the four of them. Sirius nearly bit his tongue trying to keep in his laughter as the Caretaker slung insults and promises of punishment their way, cat ears and a tail freshly sprouted from his body.

“I can't believe we actually did that,” Sirius cackled, keeping easy pace with James.

“I can't believe you dragged me into this,” Remus panted, his current body not lending itself well to physical activity. For once he actually wished he was a werewolf right about now.

“I don't know if I can keep up,” Peter wheezed, falling behind.

“Oh come on,” James said, grabbing his sleeve and helping him run, “we can out run a gummy-legged old prat like him.”

“I don't know, he's faster than he looks,” Remus pointed out as Filch rounded the corner behind them.

“Damn,” James cursed under his breath, “we'll lose him if we can make it to the one-eyed-witch passageway.”

“We'll never activate it in time,” Remus countered.

“The hallway behind the third floor tapestry?” Peter suggested.

“No, Filch knows about that one now,” Sirius said.

“Why the hell didn't you bring your cloak?” Remus huffed.

“Well getting caught wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, but someone had to let out a laugh before we could get out!”

“Just save your air and sprint!” Sirius hissed.

The extended run time was starting to catch up to all of them now, and when they'd made a wrong turn to a blocked off corridor they thought they were done for.

“Hey, morons, over here!”

Four heads snapped towards the sound of your whisper, but you were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, one of the light pillars began to shift, revealing a large crack in the wall just big enough for them to fit sideways.

No questions were asked with no time to waste, and the four boys clamored after one another so they could fit inside. Your magic moved the pillar back in place just in time, and you watched from your hiding spot as Filch reached the walled-off passage in surprise, grumbling as he looked around for the culprits behind you. You had to stifle a snicker as his cat ears lowered; was that growling coming from the back of this throat or did you imagine that? Eventually he stumbled off in frustration and you sighed.

“Alright, the coast is clear,” you said.

“Why did you help us?” James rose a brow, that signature shit-eating grin back on his face like it never left, “you haven't fallen in love with me since our truce, have you?”

“Dream on, Potter,” you rolled your eyes, pushing him out of the crevice and smirking as he tumbled to the floor.

“It seems like I'm always saving you nowadays,” you said, stepping out of the wall yourself with the rest of the boys following.

Remus was thoroughly confused, looking pointedly between you and Sirius. He knew you and James were pretty much friends now, but he also noticed that the hostile air that always seemed to be present with you and the elder Black had diminished. He'd even seen you two talking in the halls lately. Sirius gave him a look; he would explain what happened in the forest with Lucius to Remus later. Mostly he didn't want to admit that Remus was right about you not being so bad if he gave you a chance; you had actually been getting on pretty well since that night.

“You do realize it's no fun winning the house cup when you four practically make Gryffindor ineligible every year with all the shit you get up to, right?” you chuckled, “some competition would be nice for a change.”

“We'll see if you're singing the same tune when Quidditch season rolls around,” James said smugly.

“You're right,” you said, squaring up against him, “guess that's a new competition we've got going for us.”

It had recently been announced that you and James had both been selected to play Seeker for your respective houses next year. It was an arrangement that had the whole school talking, your rivalry turned (mostly) friendship now infamous, even if it was a recent occurrence.

“Hold on, how did you know that was there?” Peter asked you, pointing to the moving column, “even we didn't know about it.”

“Oh?” you crossed your arms, “and are you four supposedly some kind of all-knowing secret masters? Because clearly there's things you don't know about yet.”

Sirius slapped a hand over Peter's mouth before he could retaliate and give away what they've been working on.

“Yes, well, apparently,” he said, ignoring Peter's muffled protests.

You looked at them curiously, all four boys looking suspiciously nervous.

The next day at breakfast, James had brought up the idea of 'hiring' you to help them finish the map.

“I'm telling you, I think we can really make progress with their help,” he pitched, “they clearly know what they're talking about, and we know they can pull a hell of a prank from all the times they've gotten me.”

“How do we know they won't tell anyone?” Peter countered, “I don't know what's up with you, but you're trusting them too fast, James.”

“They're not the type that would tell,” Remus admitted.

“Oh, not you too!” Peter whined.

“I'm just saying, they'll likely appreciate what we've gathered so far and have a fair bit to add,” Lupin insisted, “it could be worth a try if you really want to finish it before we graduate—”

“Finish what?”

The four boys jolted upright, turning to see you and Lily.

“Are you guys okay?” Lily asked, concern written across her features.

“Of course!”

“Never better!”

“Why wouldn't we be?”

Remus just groaned at his friends' panicked answers. This was hopeless.

You and Lily shared a knowing look off the the side.

“Alright, whatever you say. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry laughed heartily,

“Wow, I mean, I know you said they were bad, but that bad?”

“For being expert pranksters who hardly ever managed to get caught, they were remarkably terrible at hiding things,” you said, chuckling along with him, “It didn't take us long to figure out they were up to something, although they seemed to think they were brilliant at covering it up, Remus had to burst their bubble eventually.”

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly and imagining all the scenes in his head as you continued your tale.

“So that was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they were hiding. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year, but we'll get to that part of the story later. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This tastes awful,” Sirius complained, trying to ignore the plant prodding the under-side of his tongue.

“Well if you were expecting treacle toffee I'm sorry to disappoint,” James rolled his eyes, equally nauseated by the bitter tinge of the Mandrake leaf in his mouth.

“There's no way someone can do this for an entire month,” Peter said, “How do you brush your teeth? What if you accidentally swallow it when you're eating?”

“You three have fun with that,” Remus chuckled, flipping through an old library book and his mouth gratefully leafless.

“How about some gratitude, Moony?” James said, “We're doing this for you.”

“Please, you just want to see if you can turn into a dragon or something,” Lupin chortled, “and you don't actually have to go through with all this. Who knows if this animagus stuff will actually work.”

“Well, a dragon would suit me,” James mused, “but of course we're going to see this through, mate. You know we'd do anything for you.”

Remus smiled to himself, not responding and not needing to. He knew.

“Hey guys,” you grinned, walking up to the Gryffindor table.

Peter gulped suddenly in surprise as you came up behind him, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Shit!” he coughed out, “I-I swallowed it!”

“Your. . . food?” you questioned, glancing over at the boys who all had that same, vaguely panicked look about them.

“Okay, it was funny at first, but you guys have been acting weird since last year and now it's worrying,” you admitted.

The four looked between themselves and came to a sort of silent conclusion. Maybe in this scenario it was better to tell one secret to keep the other. And so, later that night, they told you to meet them after lights out so they could tell you what was really going on. You snuck out of your dorm room and made your way through the secret tunnel to the Gryffindor common room, a route you'd taken plenty of times to mess with James.

You pushed a loose panel of wood open, coming into the warmly lit space through one of the cabinets. You pushed an armchair that was half blocking your path out of the way as you crawled through the space.

“Blimey!” Sirius jumped, “give us a heads up, would you?”

“Sush,” Remus scolded him, “you really don't understand the concept of an inside voice, do you?”

“Alright, well I'm here,” you said, brushing off your robes, “now what's this big secret? This better not be a trick because I've been working on a new hex.”

“Nothing like that,” James assured you, “we've been working on something we think you might be interested in, if you're willing to contribute.”

He stepped to the side so you could see the floor where they'd been huddled around and your eyes widened.

“Merlin,” you said. The red and gold carpet was covered in at least forty different pieces of parchment. Pages upon pages overlapped with each other, each messily detailing a different part and level of the castle in scribbles of smudged ink. “This is. . .”

“The entirety of the Hogwarts castle and surrounding land,” Sirius said proudly, “complete with secret passageways.”

“This is our lives' work, (Y/n),” James said, “be impressed!”

“What impresses me most is how none of you have any sense of scale,” you said, sifting through the papers, “you should really condense this. Kind of hard to make any use of a map if you have to flip to page thirty-three to find the kitchens.”

“Point taken,” Remus said, “it could do with some reorganization.”

“And probably a bigger piece of paper,” you mentioned.

“Right, that. . .”

“That's not all there is to it, though,” Peter said, “Sirius?”

The curly haired boy stepped forward, pressing his wand to the center of the floor.

“Revelare Popularis,”

You watched in wonder as hundreds of names suddenly appeared across the pieces of paper, all students and faculty you recognized. They were scrawled in Sirius' handwriting, as if he'd written them himself.

“This spell shows where everyone in any location on this map is at this very moment,” he said, “It's not exact, and we've been working on variations.”

“So you can plan ahead without getting caught,” you mused, “how'd you learn something as advanced as this, Black?”

“I get around,” Sirius shrugged, unabashedly showing off. Peter rolled his eyes.

“So, the only drawback, of course, is that the spell doesn't work in real time,” Remus said, “so by the time you get where you need to go. . .”

“People will have moved,” James finished, “we're willing to share this little trove of knowledge with you if you're willing to give up all the secret rooms, passages, and hiding places you know.”

“And we thought you may have a solution to our timing problem,” Remus said, “I could tell from our study sessions you quite enjoy learning ahead of your year.”

Your eyes scanned the pages, and you were admittedly impressed. There was ton of stuff on here you had no idea about, but you knew a fair amount was missing as well. It seemed like a fair trade.

“I'm in,” you said.

“What?” Peter blinked, “it was that easy?”

“This is a useful tool you've got,” you said, “I think we can all benefit from it being improved. And now that you mention it, I actually do think I've read about a similar spell to that paper charm. It was in some Gaelic tome in the restricted section on ancient magic. I'm not even sure it used a wand. It was called the Homunculus charm. From what I read it sounded like it acted as a live feed for people in any given location, clan leaders used it to plan ambushes and keep track of citizens. If we could link it to the entire castle. . .”

“We'd be able to see where everyone is—”

“And what they're doing—”

“—At every hour of every day!”

“True, albeit a bit stalkerish,” you quipped, “you let me in on this if I add in what I know, and you got yourself a deal.”

James put out his hand, and as tempted as you were to turn it green or make all the bones in it disappear, you reached out and shook it.

“I do believe this puts us in a formal alliance, Potter,” you said cheekily.

“I believe so,” James smirked.

“Terrifying,” Remus chuckled, “This school won't even know what hit it.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” James said with a cheshire grin, “let's steal ourselves a book, shall we?”

Read chapter 6 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @mialupin1

[animationnut]

Of Broken Spirits and Renewed Hope

Spoilers for True Colors.

Rating: K+ Summary: Three human girls arrived in Amphibia. Only one made it back home. Note: If Google has any degree of accuracy, นางฟ้า is Thai for angel.

“Home.”

Anne felt her vocal cords vibrate in her throat, felt her tongue curve around the syllable of the word, felt her lips as they moved to accommodate her vocal cords and her tongue. But she was speaking from instinct, not intent, as her brain swam in a haze of mixed colours—green, pink and blue, and the orange glow of a blazing sword—

Anne could feel herself wavering on the edge, practically see the black abyss threatening to swallow her whole, but three harsh coughs interrupted her dark spiral.

“What’s that smell?” rasped Polly, covering her nose as she wheezed. Her gags racked her small form and Hop Pop quickly whipped a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to cover Polly’s face.

The buzzing in Anne’s ears stopped and the world exploded with sound and sensation.

Dozens of horns blared from commuters who were impatient and annoyed with traffic that should have been as familiar to them as the back of their hands. Heat seared Anne’s exposed skin as the metal of the vehicle they were lying on burned from the exposure to the Californian sun. Exhaust rose in black clouds, sour and noxious, burning Anne’s nose and making her eyes water.

There was the click of the car door opening and Anne snapped her head around. The portly man gazed blankly at her as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was witnessing. With a boggled expression, he looked between the girl wearing an armoured chest plate and the three large, anthropomorphic frogs sitting next to her.

“Hi,” chirped Anne, managing to sound upbeat and cheerful. “Sorry, dude. We’ll just be on our way.”

“Where did you come from?” he asked. Anne couldn’t identify his dialect, but his accent coupled with the maple leaf-shaped air freshener and his outfit screamed ‘tourist’. “And what the heck are those?”

Sprig opened his mouth, no doubt to introduce himself, but Anne seized the Plantars in a one-arm hold, squeezing just tightly enough for speech to be difficult. “Sorry,” she repeated, using her free hand to snag the strap of her backpack.

She slid down the hood and if it weren’t for months of walking over sticks, stones and hard, uneven ground, the hot asphalt seeping through her worn-out sock might have crumpled her. But she ignored the pain as she swung her bag over her shoulder. The weight of Frobo’s deactivated head nearly sent her sprawling, but she regained her balance and took off running.

She weaved her way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic, climbing over vans and sports cars and SUVs, ignoring the shouts and curses aimed her way by the disgruntled owners. She reached the metal barrier that separated the embankment from the freeway and she hoisted herself over it.

They tumbled down the grassy slope and Anne sprinted through the trees. The sounds of human civilization eventually quieted and Anne halted her sprint when she registered Sprig smacking at her arm.

She quickly let them go and they dropped to the ground. Anne’s knees buckled as the adrenaline drained right out of her. Her mind was a mess of thoughts and her lungs felt like they were going to collapse.

The flaming blade piercing through Marcy’s chest. The stunned expression in Marcy’s eyes, the way all colour faded from her face. The tears that spilled down her cheeks, and the final words that tumbled from her mouth as her eyes rolled back into her head.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

Anne’s agonized scream was promptly choked by the vomit that filled her mouth.

Hop Pop was by her side in an instant, hands gripping her shoulders as she hunched over and hacked into the grass. Her throat burned and her limbs trembled, the sight of Marcy falling lifeless and the sound of Sasha’s horrified howl haunting her.

The sobs that pealed out of her came from somewhere deep inside the girl. They were filled with pure loss and devastation and it echoed amongst the towering trees. Tears poured down Anne’s face, snot leaked from her nose as she cried and her fists pounded into the grass as emotion overcame her.

“Marcy!” she wailed. “Marcy, nooooo! Maaaaarcyyyy!”

Hop Pop wound his arms securely around her neck and pulled her close. Sprig and Polly clung to her, and all of his grandchildren were in a state of grief, tears glimmering on their skin and their small bodies shaking.

Hop Pop swallowed back his own sadness. As traumatizing as it had been to see a child slain in front of his eyes, he had to be strong for his family. He stroked Anne’s hair, patted Sprig and Polly’s heads, and gave comfort not with words but his presence.

Anne cried herself hoarse. When she found she had run out of tears to shed, she weakly sat up and wiped at her face. “It’s not fair,” she said croakily. “Hop Pop, it’s not fair.”

“I know, kiddo. I’m so sorry.” Hop Pop rubbed his thumb gently over Anne’s knuckles.

“She sacrificed herself to save us,” said Sprig, squeezing his eyes shut against the swell of despair. “Her and Sasha.”

Anne gave a distraught moan, her head bowing slightly as the weight of two worlds crushed against her shoulders.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” ordered Hop Pop, and Anne reluctantly lifted her chin. “We don’t know what happened to Sasha. She’s a tough one. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“We don’t know that!” shouted Anne, her voice cracking. “Marcy should have been fine, but she isn’t! She’s dead, and Sasha might be too! This isn’t how it was supposed to go! We were supposed to come home together!”

She began to dry heave, stress and panic and grief clenching tight around her heart and making her feel sick. Hop Pop grabbed her face with both hands and stared steadily into her wet eyes. “Breathe with me. In and out.”

Anne’s first attempts resulted in strangled gasps, but eventually she gained control of her breathing. “I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

“We worry about that later,” said Hop Pop firmly.

“But what about Andrias? And if Sasha is still alive—”

“Anne, right now, none of us are in a state to do much of anything,” said Hop Pop calmly. “To be honest, I don’t know if we can do anything.”

Anne blinked at him before realization hit. “The music box is still in Amphibia.”

Polly was crestfallen. “Does that mean we’ll never be able to go home?”

“What about Bessie and MicroAngelo?” asked Sprig desperately. “And Ivy! I didn’t get to say goodbye to Ivy!”

“Hush,” said Hop Pop soothingly, pulling Sprig and Polly into his arms. “The townspeople will take care of our snails, and I’m sure Ivy will understand, Sprig. As for going back home, I don’t know.” He let out a heavy sigh, feeling every year of his existence weigh down his bones. “Maybe we can figure something out. But if we can’t, we have each other. Home is where we are, even if we aren’t in Wartwood.”

He swept his eyes over his grandchildren, biological and adopted, and saw the words provided little peace in the moment of intense sorrow. But he knew they would come to appreciate how fortuitous it was that they returned to Anne’s world as a family, even when the losses they suffered hung darkly over their thoughts.

Anne was staring numbly at the ground and Hop Pop tugged lightly at her elbow. She fell easily into his embrace, as if she were made of nothing but feathers, and her forehead rested against the top of his head. For a moment they just stayed there, Anne’s body radiating warmth and causing Polly and Sprig to nestle closer to her, seeking her familiar heat.

Polly was the first one to hear the musical twinkling. She blinked over at Anne’s backpack. “Anne, your bag is singing.”

Anne slowly turned to follow Polly’s gaze, and it took her several seconds to register the noise. Suddenly it was as if a live wire had touched her and jolted to action, shrieking, “My phone!”

The Plantars were jostled as she dove for her bag. She ripped Frobo’s head out and Polly said furiously, “Hey! Don’t treat him like he’s junk!”

But Anne barely heard her. She plunged her hand into her bag, the bristles of her brush and points of her bobby pins sticking her flesh. Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she yanked it out.

Her text alert, which she hadn’t heard in months, was jarring to her ears. The notification center on her phone was being flooded by dozens and dozens of texts, missed calls and voicemail alerts. They poured in so fast Anne was only able to glimpse the names attached before they were replaced by another batch of notifications.

The majority of the texts were from Sasha, Marcy and Anne’s parents. There were a couple from the local police station, which caused Anne’s stomach to grow cold with fear. She hadn’t even considered the consequences of literally disappearing off the face of the Earth.

And then her phone froze, unable to keep up with the backlog of messages coming in all at once. Frustrated, Anne stabbed at her screen with her finger, but it was no use.

Her eyes fell upon the last text to make it to her notification center. It was from her mother.

Oh, นางฟ้า, your father and I miss you so much. We pray for a sign that you and the girls are alive, and that you will return home soon.

“Oh, Mommy,” whispered Anne, her fingers digging into the rubber material of her phone case.

Hop Pop approached and set a hand against her back. “Let’s go see your parents,” he said softly.

“But I don’t even know what to say to them,” she said helplessly. “I don’t know if they’ll understand. It’s…the things I’ve been through, the things we’ve been through, they don’t happen here. Not ever.”

“Well, we’re here to help you explain things,” said Sprig earnestly.

“Yeah, I’m…I think I might need some time to prepare them for you three,” muttered Anne. “They are so gonna freak out.” She glanced back at her frozen screen, and her heart plummeted as she read the most recent message from Marcy’s father. “Oh, how do I tell them?” she said in despair. “How do I tell Sasha’s parents that I had to leave her behind? How do I tell Marcy’s parents that their daughter is…is…”

Her voice wobbled and her eyes started to sting once more. Anne wanted to cry, but she didn’t have the energy nor the water for proper tears. Hop Pop gently set her phone back in her bag, which Anne allowed without protest. He laced his fingers with hers and said, “We’ll tell them the truth, Anne. That’s all we can do. We’ll tell ‘em how brave their daughters are.”

Anne gave a sniff. She tugged her hand free from Hop Pop’s grasp so she could rub at her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure.”

She took a few minutes to gather herself, to try and clumsily sort through the heavy emotions swirling in her chest. She wanted to mourn, but there wasn’t time. She had to see her parents, had to tell them what happened.

“So, how long have you been gone?” asked Polly in a small voice, embarrassed by her earlier outburst. “Does time work the same way here?”

“Um…I don’t know.” Anne gestured to her pink backpack, where her phone was once again nestled safely inside. “It froze on me, so I can’t check the calendar or anything. And I didn’t get to see the dates on the first few rounds of texts.” She looked over to see the pollywog nuzzling Frobo’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Polly. I shouldn’t have thrown him around like that.”

“S’okay,” mumbled Polly. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just really sad and upset right now.”

“Me too.” Anne leaned over and brought Polly into her arms, pressing a gentle kiss against her head. “I’m sorry, Polly. Maybe we can fix him.”

“Yeah,” piped up Sprig. “He just needs a new body, right? When we get home, we can go back to that weird machine place and get him a fresh one.”

Polly perked up at that. “Yeah…yeah!” she said. “If we keep his head safe, we can rebuild him!”

There was hope in her eyes. It glimmered and shone and Anne found herself hypnotized by it.

Something flickered in her heart.

“Until then, we’ll do what we can here.”

Hop Pop, Polly and Sprig looked at her in surprise. The teen’s chin was set, her mouth settled in a determined line. “Anne?” ventured her best friend. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not just going to sit here and wait,” said Anne. Her own hope ignited, and the spark soon blazed throughout her whole being. “I’m not gonna just do nothing.” She set Polly down and stood, her fists clenched by her sides. “You’re right, Hop Pop. Sasha’s fine. Marcy…Marcy made the mistake of turning her back to Andrias, but that wasn’t her fault. Sasha won’t do that. She’ll find a way to take the box from that monster and open the portal again.

“But until she figures that out, I gotta do my part. That music box came to Earth somehow. The thrift store where Marcy found it, they had a wardrobe with the Amphibia symbol engraved into the wood. And Marcy knew what the box could do, which meant she found some information about it somewhere.”

She thought about Wartwood, her home away from home. She thought about Wally, Mrs. Croaker, Archie, Bessie, MicroAngelo, Toadstool, Toadie, Loggle, Ivy, Sylvia, Felicia, Stumpy, Maddie and the rest of her friends from the humble country town. She thought about Sasha, who despite her need for control and her habit of lying to get what she wanted, came through for her friends in the end.

She thought about Marcy.

She had tricked them into leaving their parents, their lives, and trapping them in a world so beyond imagination that Anne never in a million years would have dreamed it up. She had done it because she was so scared to lose the friends she loved most, so desperate to stay with Sasha and Anne forever.

She had been inconsiderate. She had been selfish.

So had Anne. So had Sasha. Marcy didn’t deserve to die for her mistakes—none of them did. They were just three teen girls who sometimes did stupid, stupid things.

But they cared about each other—Anne believed that. Even if it was misguided, even if it was manipulative, she knew Sasha and Marcy cared about her—they sometimes just went about it in all the wrong ways.

And even though Marcy was the reason they were in this mess in the first place, and even though Sasha’s trickery was the reason Anne didn’t initially believe her about Andrias, she cared about them, too.

Right now, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t sure if she still wanted to be friends with Sasha after all she had done. It didn’t matter that she still stung over Marcy’s own manipulative scheme to take her friends away from everything they ever knew.

However complicated her emotions currently were, it didn’t mean she couldn’t still care about the two girls she’d shared her most precious memories with.

She was going to find a way to get back to Amphibia. She was going to save her friends. She was going to bring her frog family back home. She was going to save Amphibia and countless other worlds from Andrias’ tyranny.

She wouldn’t let anyone else she loved die by his hands.

“We’re not helpless!” she said fiercely. “We won’t let him make us helpless! We’re gonna stop him!”

Her pupils and irises illuminated a bright blue.

“They did it again!” exclaimed Polly.

Anne blinked and the colour of her eyes returned to normal. “What?”

“Your eyes! They did the funny light-up thing! Are you gonna turn blue again?”

Anne flexed her fingers, but she didn’t feel numb or tingly, like she had when Andrias had thrown Sprig out the window. “No, I don’t think so.” She glanced down at her hands, brow furrowed. “To be honest, I have no idea how that happened. I don’t even really remember it? I mean, I know what I did, but it felt like I wasn’t in my body while I was doing it.”

Sprig looked between Polly and Anne in confusion. “I clearly missed something when I was falling to my death.”

“Oh, it was so cool, Sprig! Anne went all glowy, and she was using blue magic, and she was flying! She nearly beat the snot out of Andrias!” said Polly excitedly.

The words reverberated through Anne’s mind; She nearly beat the snot out of Andrias.

She could beat him. She was still connected to her stone, and that fact seemed to cause Andrias great unease.

“Do you think you’d be able to use those powers again, Anne?” asked Hop Pop, following her same train of thought.

“I’ll learn,” said Anne firmly. “I’ll figure it out. Once I get control of my powers, Andrias won’t stand a chance.”

There was no question of whether or not she’d be able to gain control of her newfound abilities—she had to. It was her best bet to defeat Amphibia’s king.

Sprig tilted his head to the side. “Do you know what activated them in the first place?”

Anne regarded him, intense warmth and adoration bubbling in her stomach, and she gave a soft smile. “You. When he threw you out the window, I thought you were dead, and I was so angry.”

At a momentary loss for words, Sprig’s eyes filled with touched tears and he jumped into her arms. “Oh, Anne.”

“I love you,” said Anne passionately. She lowered to her knees and brought Hop Pop and Polly into her steel embrace. “I love all of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“We love you too,” said Hop Pop tenderly, lightly running his fingers through her curly hair. “That’s what we’ve got over Andrias—love for one another. Pardon the sappiness of it, but that’s what we’ll use to beat him.”

“It’s not sappy at all,” said Anne. “It’s the truth.” She gave them one more tight squeeze before setting them back down. She grabbed her backpack, swinging it over her shoulders, and she picked up Frobo’s head. “Come on. I’ve kept Mom and Dad waiting long enough. I can’t wait for you guys to meet each other.”

They headed back to the freeway, where Anne hoped one of the stuck commuters would be willing to lend her their cell phone so she could call her parents to pick them up. As they made their way up the littered slope, Anne closed her eyes briefly.

Hang on, Wartwood. I’m coming back for you. Do what you can until I get there, Sasha. I know you can do it—you never give up.

A lump swelled in her throat, and she swallowed back a sob.

We won’t let him win, Marcy. I promise we won’t. You saved us, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t return the favour.

A breeze kicked up, ruffling her thick, curly hair, and in the caress of the wind she swore she could hear a carefree giggle and a sweet summons of Anna-Banana. She let out a slow breath, and a lone tear spilled from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

I forgive you, Mar-Mar. I forgive you.

[and-the-ocean-burned]

Heyyyyy soooo I'm back with more self indulgent fanfiction that no one wanted or asked for! No real trigger warning for this one, soo enjoy!!

Ronan rolled over in bed onto his side, sneering at the shadowy corner of his bedroom for a few moments, then with a frustrated groan turned back again. How long had he been laying here? How many hours had he spent sleeplessly tossing and turning in the ruins of his sheets?

He didn't know, all he knew was that he was fucking tired. Tired of this, and just tired.

He grunted irritably as he sat up in bed, idly massaging the nape of his neck with a clammy palm and a grimace. "Maybe Gansey was awake," The thought made Ronan feel a little better. He stood up, all of his muscles protested, his body was exhausted. Every attempt to dream lately had done nothing but gotten his ass handed to him by some fucked up nightmare. He was tired of them too.

He opened his bedroom door, and peered out into the pitch of the second floor of Monmouth. There weren't any lights on that he could tell, Gansey more than likely wasn't awake.

A stab of lonesomeness ran through Ronan then, his insomnia was easier to cope with when he was in Gansey's company. He'd listen to music with one or both earbuds in, and occasionally look over to his friend sculpting another streetlight for his mini diorama of Hennrietta, or scrawling notes in the margins of his journal, or gingerly snipping a leaf from his mint plant with the tiny filigree scissors Blue had given him as a gift. It was easier to forget why he couldn't sleep when he was with Gansey.

The refrigerator light tinted him ghostly yellow as he opened it to rummage through its contents. He pulled out a two liter of soda, and chugged several large mouthfuls straight from the bottle before twisting the cap on firmly, and placing the bottle back onto the shelf. 

His nerves still burned, his body wanted him to sleep, screamed for him to sleep. He could feel the beginnings of thick black ooze accumulating at the back of his throat, in his lungs, he could taste it. Instead of acknowledging the dread pooling low in his belly, he scooped up the BMW keys, and trekked out the door and down the stairwell of Monmouth manufacturing.

Ronan didn't know of a cure for his insomnia, his dreams were wicked, terrifying things, and even if he had a good handle on them to start, it only took one small slip up, a single self deprecating thought, to have him submerged in a pool of acid, or helplessly pinned to the ground under a pissed off night terror, or perpetually stuck being walked away from by everyone he cares about. Besides Gansey, there was only one other thing that he knew helped. 

St. Agnes's fearsome silhouette was starting to pierce the horizon as Ronan drove. He let out a tense, exhausted breath, just being close enough to see the church's three vicious spires already felt like it had helped some of the coiling tension in his muscles untangle itself.

He parked. This wasn't the first time sleeplessness had dragged him here by the throat, in fact, Ronan had lost count of how many nights just like this one that he'd found himself here in the archway of the old church. Probably as many times as he'd found himself here on Sunday mornings, he thought.

He dipped the tips of his fingers in holy water, and sat down on one of the ebony colored pews. He pressed his palms and fingers together, and rested his forehead against his thumbs, he prayed.

The moon poured its eerie light over his pale skin through St. Agnes' enormous stained glass windows as he sat silent, painting him a wild kaleidoscope of a boy. Eventually he drifted off, still perched like that, and began to dream.

--

He was outside, everything was all sunbeam warmth, and brilliant white light, and lush grass between his toes. He squinted to focus his vision, Adam was standing a little ways ahead of him reaching above his head to pluck something from a furiously overgrown plant.

Ronan recognized it, the wild blackberry vines growing at one edge of the woods that surrounded the barns. He broke into a sprint, stopping just beside Adam, who turned to him and smiled. Ronan's heart was an underground coal fire of affection for him, his whole body smoldered with it.

Adam offered one of the sun ripened berries to Ronan, who enthusiastically accepted, allowing Adam to place the small fruit on his tongue. He crushed it against the roof of his mouth. Something was wrong.

It tasted like rot.

The air around them dropped drastically in temperature, and the sky dimmed with malice. Adam drew back a bleeding finger, something was egregiously wrong. 

Black began to dribble from the thorn pricked gash in Adam's index finger, not blood, unmaking. Ronan felt sick. He spit furiously. Black. 

Adam's panicked eyes darted up to meet Ronan's, he let the berries in his hands tumble to the ground. The unmaking gushed now, rolling down Adam's wrist and forearm like thick black veins, and poured in several opaque streams from his elbow into the grass between his feet. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Ronan gasped, he couldn't understand what was happening in front of him, he was seeing it, but he wasn't processing it. He could only feel the sick adrenaline clawing up his spine, could only taste decay in his mouth, could only watch helplessly.

Ronan feverishly grappled for his wrist, tugging Adam towards him, and wiping at the cut hysterically. The black just smeared, and welled up from the gash again. Had it been that large before? That open? That deep?

He whined brokenly, clasping Adam's slippery hand in his own, tight. Hot tears stung his eyes, Adam cheeks were streaked with them too, only his were the color of midnight. His mouth hung open around a silent word.

"Adam..." Ronan didn't recognize his own voice as it left his throat, only knew it was his because he could feel how it cracked half way through. Adam looked at him then, agonized.

"Ronan-" Adam abruptly dropped his eyes to his chest where glistening black was slowly soaking through his faded tee shirt. Dread flooded Ronan. Adam was dying, being unmade right in front of his eyes, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Adam swayed, immediately losing his footing. Ronan braced him with a slick arm, they collapsed to the ground which was now a filling pool of unmaking as dense and black as asphalt. 

A horrible noise escaped Ronan then, a strangled ugly beast of a thing. His face twisted up with the force of it, his hand clasped the side of Adam's sticky jaw. Adam's glossy, far away eyes flickered up to him, a line of black trickled from one of his nostrils. His lips parted, strings of tar colored unmaking clung to them, and coated his teeth. His breath was shallow, and bitter smelling. 

Ronan wheezed for air, but there wasn't enough. There might never be enough again. "Adam!" He rasped again between more awful sounding sobs. His heart felt dangerously close to shattering.

"This is all your f-fault..." Adam gurgled, coughing once, twice, then trembled violently against Ronan. "You break everything you touch-" Ronan's heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest.

No! This is wrong! He hadn't meant this to happen, please! He would do anything! Just make it stop! Make it stop! Adam!

I'm sorry!

Adam's chest rose shallowly and sunk down once, and then he was very still. His face and body were marred by smudgy black. His eyes were fixed on something above them both, everything adam-like gone out of them. 

I'm sorry…

--

Ronan gasped awake, his chest stung like a bitch suddenly filled with so much air, and his shirt clung to his skin uncomfortably. He couldn't stop trembling, his face felt wet. He caught a glimpse of his hands, black. His heart spasmed, then waking logic kicked in. They had just been in the shadow of the pew in front of him, they were perfectly unmarked upon further inspection. 

Ronan swore, took a few deep breaths, and swore again, wiping haphazardly at his face with the backs of his hands. He was never dreaming again. Sleep deprivation be damned.

He could at least find some small comfort in the fact that he hadn't brought anything back from that nightmare with him. That did very little to settle him though, he was badly shaken. Paranoia nipped at the back of his mind, he couldn't help it, horrible scenarios clawed their way to the forefront of his thoughts. He needed to check on Adam.

--

Adam lived in a quaint little apartment space above the administrative office of St. Agnes. Little meaning that if Ronan stood straight up he'd hit his head on the ceiling regardless of where he was in the room, and quaint meaning that he didn't understand how Adam managed to find reasons to want to live there. But if he never had to have that argument with Adam again it'd be too soon.

The stairs up to the door of Adam's room groaned a protest with nearly every step Ronan took, and the door itself was slightly warped with age revealing uneven slivers of dull light from behind it.

Adam would more than likely be asleep by now, it was late, and a school night. Ronan wasn't sure how late it was, he'd left his phone back at the factory, but he needed to know Adam was okay, needed to see him with his own eyes.

He lifted his knuckles to knock, and all at once every ounce of his nerve left him. His hand dropped back down to his side. He couldn't bring himself to possibly wake Adam when his sleep was so important to him. Sleep was a commodity he got very little of, and therefore took seriously.

Ronan turned back the way he'd come, but a sudden bright light from behind him threw his shadow onto the floor. It rippled wildly against the silhouette of the staircase, inhuman. 

Adam had opened the door so quietly that Ronan hadn't even heard it, and was staring at Ronan when he turned around. Ronan was very visibly relieved at the sight of him.

"Jesus, you look terrible." Adam said.

"Thanks Parrish, you look good too." 

An easy smile spread across Adam's face then. "Sorry," he said.

Ronan shrugged, but his chest felt warm.

"What're you doing here? We have a test tomorrow, shouldn't you be getting some sleep or something?" Adam asked then, his eyebrows had deep wrinkles between them, and his eyes were narrowed, but Ronan knew from experience that it was more out of concern than judgement.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ronan replied with some heat to his tone, but it was all for show, he had no idea who he was trying to fool here. Adam's smile was a barely there thing, clearly he wasn't buying it either.

"I was studying, what's your excuse?" Adam replied evenly. Ronan was silent. Adam held his gaze for a tense moment.

"What was the nightmare about?" Leave it to him to see right through Ronan. He looked at Adam in a way that said Please don't make me say it. Please. Adam seemed to understand that Ronan wouldn't, or maybe couldn't talk about it. He stepped out of the doorway to allow Ronan in.

It was warm, and it smelled like moss and dew and motor oil, which was to say that it smelled like Adam. A slumping desk lamp illuminated the room with a pleasant dimness, a pile of textbooks lay open to random pages beneath it. Grades won out over sleep on Adam's list of priorities.

Ronan navigated the room with the ease of familiarity, seating himself on the edge of Adam's mattress, and resting his elbows on his knees. Adam followed suit, sitting down close enough that their sides and thighs were touching.

"So are we going to keep on acting like everything's fine?" Adam asked bluntly, but there wasn't any anger in his voice, the way he'd said it made the words sound factual. "Or are you going to talk to me about it this time?" The question should've been simple, after all he'd known this was coming, but it seemed like the most complicated thing in the world for Ronan to answer right now. 

Couldn't Adam just leave it alone?

"The first one," Ronan tried to sound flippant, but all his bravado had left him at the door, and they both knew it. 

Now Adam was a little bit angry, he stood up quickly, Ronan's wide eyes followed him. "Why do you even come here then?" Ronan looked both like a hurt puppy, and a cagey dog backed into a corner. He looked ready to cry, or ready to bite. Adam didn't back down. "You always show up looking half dead, or actually half dead, and we just never talk about it! Well I'm tired of pretending like I'm not constantly worried sick how you'll show up next, or if you'll show up at all! I know you Ronan, talk to me please!" His voice broke on please, he looked just as tired as Ronan felt.

I'm sorry…

"You died," Ronan's voice was barely above a whisper, his gaze had at some point fallen from Adam, and was now trained on something invisible in the middle of the floor. If he'd looked ready to cry before, he looked damn near like he might completely fall apart now.

Adam's heart and stomach sank to his feet, "What?"

"You died! In my arms! And it was my fault!" Ronan shouted, he hadn't meant to, but he couldn't help it. All of the emotions of the dream gushed like a fresh wound. "Do you feel better now that you know, because I sure as fuck don't!" His mouth was an uneven line, he hurt all over.

There was a heavy silence between them for a moment, Ronan's eyes burned holes through the floor while Adam's burned holes through Ronan.

There was silence, and then there was the sound of cotton shirts rustling almost inaudible against one another. Adam's arms wrapped around Ronan tightly, his hands possessively, protectively gripped Ronan's ribs and the back of his shaved head. Adam pressed his cheek tentatively against Ronan's, his scent encompassed every fiber of Ronan's being. He melted into the touch.

There was silence, and then there was the sound of Adam's soft, honeyed Virginia accent in Ronan's ear. "Whatever you saw, whatever happened in that dream, it wasn't real. I'm real." Ronan gasped in a breath, he shuttered against Adam. "And I'm not going anywhere."

There was silence, and then there was the indefinite sound of Ronan Lynch crying against Adam Parrish's shoulder. His tee shirt was wet with tears, and hot with Ronan's shaky exhales, which normally would be an incredibly uncomfortable sensation, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He stroked the short, stubbly hairs at the base of Ronan's neck. Ronan looped his arms around Adam's waist then too, and held him back just as tight.

They stayed like that for a long time, long enough that Ronan thought he could see the dawn starting to tint the room orange. He recounted his nightmare.

After Ronan's shaking had subsided, and his sobs had become more or less quiet sniffles, they'd somehow ended up laying in a mess of limbs and warmth in Adam's little bed. Adam dug into his pocket, procuring both his phone and a tangle of headphone wires that he fought with for a few seconds thereafter. 

Adam tucked one of the earbuds away in his right ear, and placed the other gingerly into Ronan's left. Then with one thumb, he tapped his screen in a familiar pattern, unlocking his phone. Ronan's breath hitched as Adam selected a playlist of edm music, and Ronan's bare heart started sounding through the earbuds. He felt exposed, more vulnerable than he'd allowed himself to be in a very long time, but also safer than he'd felt in a long time. Known.

Ronan's other ear rested heavily on Adam's chest, he could feel the thud of Adam's heart against it, could hear his breathing as his chest fell and rose in time with the pounding electronic loops. His nerves tingled and burned.

He let his eyes fall closed, and sleep unfurl over him like a blanket. His dream was this, Adam, and Adam's lips, and Adam's smile, and Adam's freckles, and Adam's hands. Only Adam, and warmth.

[sweetalnazar]

After an eternity, I updated!

CHAPTER 2: A HOUSE, A SHOP AND A HOME

Summary: After the defeat of the Devil, Aisha and Salim catch up on all they’ve missed, including the fate of the home once shared with Asra

4.3k words. Family Fluff/Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Tw for discussions of trauma and abandonment

Lowkey Mine/Asra/Muriel.

Other Notes:

- Mine uses she/they, but only ‘they’ in this setting. Asra alternates between ‘he’ and ‘they’

- 'Foreign' words are generally not italicized, to reflect the multilingual nature of the characters

––––

Chapter 1 || Read on AO3 || Tip Jar 🌟

Their home was no more.

In Aisha’s memory, on her street by the heart of Center City, was the little two-storey house squished between a bathhouse and an apothecary, the place she called home. 

The kebab stall down the street, the scent of smoked lamb drifting through the air as she passed it by on the way to the palace. The neighbour opposite her, who grew a rich garden on her balcony with her wife, and gave Aisha a flower each time they met. The sound of the neighbourhood children kicking balls in the streets and chasing each other in the evenings.

The creak of the door hinges that never agreed with Salim’s oils, no matter what formula he used. The colorful tapestries from their families, a parting gift, that decorated the walls, as well as the numerous paintings, from Salim’s hand, from Aisha’s, and of course, Asra’s. The music echoing through their house in the evenings, the strumming of her qanun and Asra’s little hand beating on the riq, Salim’s beautiful voice accompanying.

All of it, every single bit of the house that held all these memories, had been reduced to rubble and broken brick, just like the rest of their neighbourhood.

There was a year of powerful lightning storms in Vesuvia that had led to fire, and the crowded buildings smooshed together, unprepared for such a hazard, was like kindling in a fireplace. Flames engulfed everything in their path, and when they couldn’t, the burning buildings and structures collapsed on their neighbours, leading to almost their entire neighbourhood being destroyed. 

According to Asra, he and Muriel––one of his partners––had run away to the east docks during the blaze, closer to water where it was safer. When they returned, there was barely anything left of the neighbourhood, much less the house.

Salim gulped his tea down, to the point he started coughing. Aisha thumped him, once, before switching to alternating between patting and rubbing his back.

“T-that’s something, Asra,” he said, the shock still clear on his face.

“Haha, yeah…” Asra stared awkwardly at his own teacup.

“Revani anyone?” Mine interrupted, holding a plate of brown squares, topped with crushed walnuts and pistachios. “I got a really good recipe from Selasi, so me, Asra and Muriel tried making some.” 

Grateful for the interruption, all three at the table took a piece each.

It had been a month or so since the defeat of the Devil, the triumphant return of Asra and Mine, and at long last, Aisha and Salim were catching up on what they had missed since their disappearance almost two decades ago. 

The two of them had asked Asra to see their old home, the very first house they had moved in as young newly-weds ready to start their new life.

Instead, he had brought them to the magic shop.

He had gestured for them to sit in a corner of the shop, where a couch and armchairs surrounded a rickety table opposite the counter. While Salim and Aisha took the couch, he had taken an armchair, the one closer to his mother’s side.

With Mine perching on the armrest by his side, and Muriel––quiet as always––sitting by the counter, Asra began regaling the tale of the house’s fate; from the landlord kicking him out, to new tenants, to its demise.

While the palace had remained constant, almost assuring in how little it had changed, much of the city had transformed. 

The Coliseum cast shadows across Goldgrave, obstructing the view of the arts district and its colorful antics. Red Street, once the pride of the Heart District and the Count, had been abandoned. Meanwhile, the bustling Shopping District had turned sullen and gloomy, the overflowing waterways mirroring its new name of the Flooded District. 

Then there was the little island far off-shore that loomed on the edge of the city, a reminder of darker times. Even the land itself had not stayed the same, the ebony, almost black sands of Ash Beach now bleached gray by the remains of the deceased.

Everywhere she looked, there was nothing but change. 

Old stores and restaurants Aisha and Salim had frequented were long gone, the shops now on their fourth or fifth newest venture.There was almost no trace of the Vesuvia Aisha had come to love, the city she had stepped into for her first big project away from home; when she and Salim had been young, newly married and determined to prove their skill away from their families. 

Or at least away from Aisha’s family, the renowned Alnazar name. 

“Basbousa,” Salim spoke, breaking her train of thought. 

She stared down at the cake in hand. Below the brown crust was a familiar buttery yellow. 

“I thought I recognized the smell!” Salim went on, holding his piece up enthusiastically. 

“It’s a little burnt, sorry,” Mine apologized. “We weren’t sure how hot the oven needed to be, since well, none of us usually bake.”

As Salim and Mine continued making small talk, Aisha took a bite, and her eyes widened. 

“Orange blossom syrup,” she said, surprised.

“Just like you made it,” Asra said. He gestured to the cup of orange blossom syrup to the side. “Pour half the syrup while it’s hot––”

“And leave the rest for serving,” she finished. Her chest tightened, a little, and she smiled down at the small square cake.

“I––I didn’t actually remember the name,” Asra confessed. “People in Vesuvia call it ‘revani’, but I always called it the orange blossom cake. Or the cake with semolina butter.”

Aisha laughed. “I remember! You were always trying to eat the entire butter slab while we were baking.”

“What do you mean ‘trying’? They were halfway through their second slab when we caught them that one time,” Salim pointed out.

“Asra!” Mine exclaimed, staring at them with wide eyes. “You didn’t .”

“It tasted nice when I was little,” Asra shrugged. “I liked how the texture felt when I gnashed the butter between my teeth.”

From the counter, there was a snort, and Aisha could have sworn Muriel mumbled, “...typical” under his breath.

Meanwhile, Mine rose to their feet, taking a couple of cakes on their plate, and went over to the counter, squeezing Asra’s hand before they left.

Salim took a few more pieces, munching happily, and Aisha did the same, placing another square on her plate.

“Back to our original topic,” Aisha said, “what happened to the house after that?”

“Oh.” Asra stopped, putting down his plate and taking a quick gulp of tea. “Well, it was kind of abandoned for a long time. Until Melaka––that’s Mine’s aunt––came along.”

“Then…”

Asra nodded. “That’s right. She built the shop right over where the house was.” He leaned back in his chair, and pulled the shimmery curtains behind him away to reveal the view from the large open window.

At the back of the shop, hidden by the tall storefront and the surrounding walls, was a courtyard. Garments flapped gently in the breeze from the clotheslines in the center, the clothing all different sizes. To one side, there was a collection of beakers and jars, as well as larger rectangular containers. They were all filled with dirt, plants of various sizes and types sprouting from them.

“Is that––” Salim squinted, “––another building back there?”

“That’s the kitchen,” Mine said. 

“Our main kitchen,” Asra clarified. “It’s where we put the ice box and the big stove and everything. There’s a sitting room too, to eat together.”

Aisha blinked, playing over Asra’s last sentence in her mind.

Had that been an invitation?

“Oh, that’s where Lucia and Hayrünnisa used to live,” Salim said. “Nisa would always give you seeds when she saw you, Asra.” 

“Seeds?” Aisha said. “Didn’t she usually give them those little flower crowns and rings?”

Asra’s eyes darted down, looking sheepish.

“Oops, sorry, Asra. It was supposed to be a secret.”

“What was?�� Mine said, leaning over the counter, their elbows almost at the edge. Muriel pulled them back, but they stayed standing, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

“I think we’ve heard enough about my childhood,” Asra said, red dusting his cheeks.

“No, we haven’t!” Mine said. “Right, Muriel?”

Muriel nodded. If Aisha hadn’t known any better, she would have said his smile was almost teasing.

“It’s not as embarrassing as you think it was, Asra,” Salim said. “It was very sweet in fact.”

Asra pursed his lips, looking conflicted.

Aisha reached out, slowly taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. Asra snapped his head to look at her, startled.

“Habibi, we don’t have to talk about it if you truly don’t want to,” she told him gently. “But I must admit...I would very much love to hear this little secret of yours.” 

Asra chuckled, squeezing her hand back before she released him. “OK, mom. I guess...it has been long enough.” 

“Tell us!” Mine said, bouncing faster now, the pink-tipped dark curls resting on their shoulders bouncing higher.

“..calm down,” Muriel muttered, almost fondly, as he placed a hand on their rotund hip and attempted to get them to sit.

“Now for the story,” Asra clapped his hands, his face still a little red as he began. “I saw er, Nisa––”

“Aunty Nisa,” Salim corrected.

“Yeah, Aunty Nisa was always giving you flowers, mom, and I, I wanted to do that too. A whole bouquet of flowers that I grew on my own.”

“You wanted to make a big balcony garden just like hers.” Salim shook his head. “It took a while to talk you down too.”

“It’s true,” Asra laughed. “Dad convinced me to start small. He would let me borrow the beakers and jars from your lab. We’d get some dirt and I’d put them on the ledge under my window where you couldn’t see.”

“So that’s where all our equipment went!” Aisha said, smiling at her husband. She placed an arm around his shoulder, pressing herself closer. “And here I was, half-convinced you were melting them down for some explosive new experiment.”

“Aisha, I would never.”

She gave him a knowing look.

“...without telling you first, that is.”

“That is true. I do dislike not being privy to the workings of your beautiful mind, ya qalbi.”

“Of course, ya a’youni. How could I ever do anything without my eyes to guide me so?”

For a while, there was silence, as Aisha and Salim gazed lovingly at each other, lost in the other’s eyes.

Up until Muriel cleared his throat, mumbling, “...Getting mushy must run in the family.”

“Shh, Muriel,” Mine whispered loudly, elbowing him. “It’s romantic . Let them be!”

“Anyway,” Asra said, “So that’s my little secret, mom. I hope you, er, liked it?”

“I loved it, habibi. Thank you, it was very sweet.”

“We should try that again.” Mine bounded up to the chair, settling on the armrest again. “Growing a flower garden. We could get a few more beakers––oh, a proper plant bed maybe? Portia has a great garden, we could ask her for tips and stuff!”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Um, I mean, if you’d like, mom and dad.”

Aisha blinked, confused for a moment, until the meaning clicked. “You want us to garden...together?”

“Only if you want to,” Asra quickly clarified. “It’s fine if you don’t, it really is.”

“Not at all, Asra,” Salim said. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”

Aisha nodded firmly.

Asra smiled, then faltered, looking down. Before either Salim or Aisha could ask him what was the matter, he had pulled Mine close, whispering into their ear.

They bobbed their head, before their attention turned to Aisha and Salim. “We were also wondering if the two of you wouldn’t mind joining us for dinner sometime. Yknow, once in a while, we could sit down around the table and um, just enjoy a family meal.”

“A little get-together sort of thing,” Asra added. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, but habibi, that is something special,” Aisha said. “We, we haven’t really had anything like that in a long time.”

“Y-you don’t have to––”

“We want to,” Aisha and Salim said simultaneously.

“Asra,” Aisha began, “We have missed so much, too much, of your life. Every moment we can share with you, even in the littlest ways, they are precious.”

“We can’t make up all that lost time,” Salim said. “But we are going to try and make the most of our present. We can only spend so long lamenting our losses. We want to move forward...with you, Asra, if possible.”

Asra’s eyes glistened in the soft sunlight filtering through the curtain, and Mine put an arm around him, a reassurance.

“There’s no rush, of course,” Aisha said. “We can go at your pace, as you like.”

“N-no, it’s not, it’s not that.”

He cleared his throat, wiping at the corner of his eye with his thumb. Mine undid one of the clothknots from their fingers and offered it, which Asra accepted and dabbed at his eyes.

“Muri, come over here,” Asra waved. “I want you to be closer for this.”

“...fine.” 

Muriel shuffled over, chair in hand, before placing it down next to Asra and taking a seat. There was another empty armchair, across from Asra, but it seemed both his partners wanted to stay close to him right now.

Asra took a deep breath, his thumb running over Mine’s knuckles, before he started speaking.

“Mom, dad, I, I spent a long time alone. It was...it wasn’t easy. I had Muri, but we barely got by, especially when we were younger.”

Aisha swallowed, one hand gripping the edges of her hijab as she braced her heart. Neither she nor Salim were not technically at fault, but nonetheless, how could she not feel pain or guilt or grief over what her child, her precious little one, had been forced to go through in the absence of his parents? 

How could she not feel responsible for the pain Asra had gone through?

“We had good times, Muri and I, but––but there were a lot of days that hurt. There were a lot of days that were painful and scary.” Another inhale, Mine squeezing his hand. “...But what hurt most of all was wondering if, if you had left me alone on purpose.”

“Asra,” Salim breathed, the shock in his tone mirroring Aisha’s own. “We would never.”

“I know. I know that now. But when I was little and afraid, I had no idea. You just suddenly never came home, and sometimes––sometimes I wondered if it was me. That I had done something wrong, or if there was something wrong with me that made you want to leave.”

Salim opened his mouth to speak, but Aisha raised a hand, wordlessly gesturing for him to wait. Asra still had more to say.

“For the longest time, I believed no one would stay for me.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, dropping into his lap like little pearls, and his lips quivered as he said, “Because you two didn’t stay.”

Asra closed his eyes, exhaling, while more tears dripped down. Muriel passed a handkerchief to Mine, who promptly wiped at Asra’s cheeks.

“T-thanks, Mine, Muri,” he mumbled.

After wiping away most of his tears, Asra raised his head, meeting Aisha and Salim’s gazes. 

“Mom, dad, it’s not your fault, but it took me a long time to let people in again. To actually let people love all of me, instead of keeping a part of myself out of their reach so I wouldn’t get hurt. I––I’m actually still afraid, of letting people in. What if they get tired of me? What if they don’t want me anymore? What then?”

Asra had every right to be angry, to be upset, but to Aisha’s astonishment, a smile spread across his face, his expression growing brighter with each word.

“But I don’t want to be held back by my fears anymore. Even if I am afraid, I––I still want to try. Mom, dad, I want to try at us being a family again. I know it won’t be easy, and I know there will be a lot of times where things don’t go the way we planned. Despite that...would you still want to try with me?”

“Of course,” Aisha and Salim answered immediately.

“Asra...you’ve been through so much,” Salim said. “I am so, so sorry for what we put you through. I know the situation was out of our control, but not a day goes by that we don’t regret leaving you alone. You were so young, we should have been there to protect you, to help you.”

“But we weren’t,” Aisha said, unballing her fist and letting her hijab fall back into place. “Habibi, your scars run deep, and neither our apologies or efforts are enough to heal each and every past hurt. You can be angry or bitter towards us, we both understand. Regardless, we will always love you.”

Salim nodded. “No matter what. We might disagree with each other, or argue until our voices go hoarse, or even hate each other for a time, but no matter what happens, our love will never change.”

“To put it simply,” Aisha said, “nothing would make us happier than to try together with you, Asra, to be a family again.”

Asra’s hands flew to his face and he doubled over in the chair, white curls touching his knees. 

“Asra?!” Mine and Muriel exclaimed, Muriel jumping to his feet to come closer.

Then, Asra lifted his head, and Aisha understood his reaction.

His cheeks were completely damp, tears flowing freely, along with snot running from his nose. His body quivered with soft sobs he was barely holding in, both his partners hugging him on either side. 

He had been such a messy crier as a child, and some things didn’t change. 

“I––I’m sorry, I’m just...I’m f––feeling a lot of things right now,” he managed to choke out, attempting a wobbly smile.  

“There, there,” Mine said, rubbing his back, while Muriel poured water into his teacup. 

Once he had calmed down, though his eyes were still watery, he continued.

“Thanks, mom, dad. Thank you….for everything. I, I never thought I would hear you say that and I just…”

Mine patted his shoulder. “There, there, sayang. We get it. Go at your own pace.”

He rested his head on their chest. “Thank you, dearheart. And you, Muri, love.”

Muriel grunted. He had gone back to sit down, but his chair had been moved closer, in case Asra needed quick comforting once more.

Aisha smiled. “Seems to me like you’ve certainly found many who love you dearly.”

“And I’m lucky for each and every one.”

“As we’re lucky to have you, Asra,” Salim said. “Thank you, habibi, for being the sweetest, kindest and loveliest child there ever was.”

He laughed weakly. “Dad, stop.”

“It is true though,” Aisha said. “Take my word for it, I’m never wrong.”

Asra chuckled and shook his head, affection clear in the gesture. “Mom, dad...I love you. So much.”

Aisha blinked, her vision becoming watery now. She leaned over, grasping Asra’s hand. 

Together, she and Salim said, “We love you too.”

The hours seemed to fly by as the conversation carried on, the edges of the blue sky starting to bleed orange soon enough. When Aisha pointed it out, Asra stammered out an invitation to stay for dinner tonight, and Mine jumped to their feet in excitement, suggesting all of them could even cook together.

Naturally, Aisha and Salim happily accepted.

When Asra asked what they would like to eat, Aisha took one look at her husband, and in unison, they answered, “Lamb fatteh!” 

In Zadithi tradition, fatteh was a celebratory dish of rice and toasted pita bread, piles of mutton crowning the top and accompanied by savory sauces. Around many parts of the country, it was the Mahrajan dish, for the Mahrajan Qurban, or the Mahrajan Saum. 

Aisha had many a happy memory of breaking her fast to a plate piled high with falafel and fatteh and roasted eggplant, family and friends and loved ones all around her, and she could not help but wish her child could also have such wonderful memories too, even if it was a little late.

By sunset, the shop’s kitchen was a mess of splatters and ingredients strewn about, rice sticking to Aisha's hijab while the dark curls of Salim's fringe had stains of tomato paste. Yet at the same time, there was laughter and chatter resounding throughout the whole building, never quiet for a single moment.

And despite the mess, the fatteh turned out beautifully, looking gorgeous as Salim and Muriel brought it out on its large dish, almost dominating the entire coffee table.

Asra closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Quietly, he said, “I haven’t smelled this in years. It’s just as wonderful as I remember.” He opened his eyes, turning to his parents. “I could never find the recipe to make it just like yours.”

“It’s the eggplant,” Salim said, brushing the last of the rice off her hijab. “Your mother loves them.”

Aisha laughed. “It’s the best part. My abi would make it like that.”

“My...grandfather?"

She nodded, her gaze becoming wistful. “It’s been such a while since we’ve seen my family. Your family, Asra. We are planning to reconnect soon...if you would want to.”

Asra bit his lip.

“You don’t have to, habibi,” Salim quickly said. “They are your family regardless, but you don’t have to force yourself into anything.”

“I’ll think about it….but maybe, I would like to meet them. Someday.”

Beside Asra, Mine bumped his shoulder, done with tying Muriel's hair back into a ponytail. “Baby steps, love. Take your time,” they said.

On Asra's other side, Muriel nodded in agreement. With his bangs out of his face, Aisha could see the softness beneath his gruff exterior, the love reflected in the green of his irises as he gazed at his partners. Truly, her child was surrounded by such wonderful people.

“Mine’s right,” Aisha spoke. “You can take your time, Asra. Whether it’s finding your roots in Zadithi, or connecting with us here in Vesuvia, your family isn’t going anywhere.”

Asra’s smile was soft and small, but radiant. “Thanks, mom.”

“Speaking of, can we start digging in yet?” Mine piped up. “I’m starving, and this fatteh smells wayyy too good for just staring at it.”

The rest of the table guffawed, even Muriel chuckling under his breath.

“Dig in, everyone!” Salim said

After reciting a tasmiya, they all began their meal, scooping up piles of rice and bread and lamb and eggplant, drizzling their dishes with ladles of tomato sauce and garlic sauce. 

As Aisha was halfway through her plate, Muriel told Asra, “You never did finish the story about the house.”

Asra put down his fork, surprise clear on his face. “Huh? What did I leave out?”

“Why it took so long for this place to be built.”

Asra’s cheeks flushed at this, in a way Aisha was starting to recognize.

“Asra Alnazar,” she said, “what did you do this time?”

“ Nothing ,” he said, though his expression was sheepish. “Things just...took a while. No one wanted this palace until Melaka came along. Once she did, she bought this lot and the one behind, and well, she rebuilt.”

“Despite Asra’s best efforts,” Mine whispered to Muriel, grinning.

“What do you mean?” Aisha asked, ears sharp as ever, before turning to Asra. “Habibi, what do they mean?

The blush grew deeper, his cheeks aflame, and he looked away. 

“Go on, Asra,” Muriel said, a little quiet, but a small, teasing smile tugging on his usually downturned mouth. “Tell them all about the hauntings.”

“The what ?” Salim exclaimed.

Asra covered the lower half of his face with his hands, his cheeks aflame now. 

Mine cackled. “Go on, Asra. I’m sure your parents will love this.”

With a sigh, he relented. “So, dad, mom, after the landlord kicked me out, I may have been, well, scaring all the new tenants away.”

“With an actual ghost?” Salim said.

“N–no, that was just me, doing some magic. Playing some pranks.”

“Scaring every single resident half to death,” Mine said.

“And sending them scurrying out in the middle of the night,” Muriel added.

“Yes, that.” Asra cleared his throat, continuing in a quieter voice, “And I may have also...committed property damage after Melaka first moved in.”

“ What?! ” Aisha said, her voice going shrill, trying to keep the grin from spreading across her face. “Asra!”

“Don’t forget breaking and entering,” Muriel chimed in.

“Trespassing too~” Mine sang. “I’m surprised auntie didn’t curse you into a toad or something.”

Asra glanced from one partner to the other. “Tonight is just about dredging up my entire embarrassing history, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mine and Muriel replied.

“And we’re enjoying every bit of it,” Mine said, Muriel bobbing his head as well.

“So what happened next?” Aisha interjected. “Were you caught by Miss Melaka?”

“Yep,” Muriel said.

“I was,” Asra admitted. “And then…”

The night passed with stories of past memories, both the ones Aisha and Salim knew, and those they didn’t. And while a part of Aisha’s heart still panged at how much she had missed, she couldn’t help the joy and delight blossoming in her chest.

Perhaps they could not take back the past.

But to be allowed to be a part of Asra’s present, to be able to learn about the sort of person her child used to be and the person he was now, it was a gift beyond measure. 

And to know that they were still a family, that he still had a place in his life for them after all these years?

It was beyond her wildest dreams.

––––

 Notes Disclaimer: I'm not Middle Eastern or Arab, and much of this is pulled from the internet as well as some of my own basic knowledge as a Malaysian Muslim. Please feel free to correct anything.

Qanun: A type of stringed instrument found across the Middle East, Asia, Africa and southeastern Europe. Riq: A type of tambourine and a traditional instrument in Arab music. It's the national musical instrument of Pakistan Revani/Basbousa: A type of sweet cake popular in the Middle East, and has many names Fatteh: A type of dish that is served differently depending on region. In Egypt, it is a type of feast meal

Abi (ابي): Arabic, from abu (أب)/father, meaning 'my father' Habibi (حبيبي): Arabic, from huub (حب)/love, meaning 'my love' Ya Qalbi (قلبي): Arabic, from qalb (قلب)/heart, meaning 'my heart' Ya A'youni (عيونى): Arabic, from a'in (عين)/eye, meaning 'my eyes', an affectionate petname. *Ya is a word often placed before names/nouns, ie 'Ya Aisha' or 'Ya Habibi'. The closest translation I understand is akin to saying "O Aisha", but not quite accurate

Mahrajan (مهرجان) : Arabic, meaning festival. Eid, the biggest celebrations of the Muslim world, can also translate to festival and in this story, Mahrajan is essentially fantasy!Eid. Mahrajan Qurban refers to Eid ul Adha, while Mahrajan Saum refers to Eid ul Fitri Tasmiya (تَسْمِيَّة): Arabic, a fantasy equivalent to the Basmala. In Muslim tradition, it is common to utter a Basmala before carrying out a task such as before eating

Clothknots: Mine has ADHD and to help with their forgetfulness, they often tie clothknots around their fingers to serve as reminders Sayang: Malay, meaning 'love'. Here, it's used as a petname

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Club Takamagahara (Part 3) The Main Character

Feels. If opportunities were broad sides of barges, the Devs couldn’t hit them.

I’m enjoying the heck out of this, and its not even hard to write.

Enjoy!

“MC!” Caesar’s voice startled you, even though you were awake. How could you sleep when your emotions were in such roiling turmoil?

You had just woken up in a strange place where people exploded everything that was inside themselves and doused the flames in showers of liquor. They poured it on each other, hugged, touched, screamed! If you grew up in the polar north, this was the tropics with its searing heat and blazing sun. You were calm about it, but like a sunburn, as you lay in the dark and closed your eyes the images of flashing lights and heaving bodies was turning into a strange red mark on your brain that you couldn’t ignore.

So you quickly get out of bed and open the closet.  It was Caesar. His expression was serious.

"Ten minutes, dress yourselves up, the store manager wants to see you." Caesar was once again dressed in full costume. He wasn’t wearing the same tight-fitting suit. It was replaced by a see-through silver shirt, tied a rhinestone neck scarf. The back of his tight pants wrapped his buttocks so that the muscle was visible.

“Why?” You ask, as you’re drawn out of the closet in confusion. The other boys were also dressed.

“While you were resting, we went into our interview. The Whale doesn’t want to make a decision without seeing you first.”

Your mind briefly flashes back to the Whale in Siberia. “Whale?”

Chu Zihang spoke. "Japan is surrounded by the sea on all sides, so the Japanese worship the ocean. In the sea, the whale is the most powerful animal, and whale meat is also an aphrodisiac food, so the man with the title of ‘Whale’ should be said to be the most powerful of men." 

“Here, get dressed.” Caesar had produced yet another outfit.

This Cheongsam was different, black. The chest was still covered, but your skin shined through lace roses on your chest. The skirt only barely covered the front and the back. The slits in both sides of the skirt rose all the way to the curve of your butt.

Mingfei peeked through his fingers. “Boss…”

“No time to worry about anything. You have to nail this.” Caesar said.

“Yes.” You held out your leg so he could help you into your fish nets, his fingers gently sliding up your calves and thighs.. “What do I have to do?”

“The Whale interview isn’t difficult, but it’s pass or fail. You have to open your heart to him and be as honest as you can. You can’t hold back or lie, because he’ll see through it. If he likes what he sees, he’ll let you stay.”

He stands behind you and removes the comb from your bun. The hair falls over your shoulder and he starts running a brush through it, pulling through the tangles roughly in his hurry.

“What is he going to ask?” You’re not minding his yanking. In fact, it felt nice to have your hair pulled like this. It gave you a tingly feeling in your scalp.

“I don’t know. If you do your best though, I think, you’ll be fine. But you’re very closed up. You can’t be that way in front of him. So just prepare yourself to be open.”

“Okay…” 

He turns you around. “Lu, get me the make up case.”

“Yes, boss.” 

He’s crouched in front of you, eyes sharp. His eyes search your face. “Your skin is good at least.”

You smile, but you feel nervous. He was right. Being open wasn’t your strong suit.

Lu Mingfei returns with the make up case and Caesar paints your eyes, sweeps a brush through your eyelashes and paints your lips. “I think simple is best in this situation.”

“Little sister… if you don’t feel comfortable. I understand…” Mingfei mumbled.

“I cannot do anything else, right now. If we’re thrown out, it’s over! So please just believe in me.” 

You glance up at him. Mingfei’s cheeks turn a little red. “I… Okay.”

As the four of you rise through the elevator, Caesar continues to explain to you. “The first floor is a stage and dance floor, a place for grand performances and female guests to drink and dance; the second floor is a spa and beauty salon; the third floor is a kaiseki restaurant called "Barnacles" and a tea house. The retired performers have their own suites on the third floor. We can only live in the basement as interns.  Well, it’s more accurate to say that we live in that bathroom.”

“No wonder you’re always bathing.” Your heart is leaping in your chest, but you stay calm on the outside, ever humorous.

“The fourth floor is off limits. Only those invited by the store manager can set foot here. They call it The Sea.”

You step out of the elevator. Fourth Floor.

Doors painted with blue acacia flowers opened one after another and, by each door stood tall, sturdy, black-clad bodyguards. You clasp your hands in front of you, just like you did for the man in the striped suit. Just like the high school student in the manga, you keep your eyelashes low, and your back straight. Only now there was no breeze to lift your skirt or hair.

Of course, the giant whale should live in The Sea, so this whole floor is the residence of the store manager. The main color of the whole floor is sea blue -- sea blue walls, sea blue carpets, sea blue curtains, even the table porcelain are sea blue. The bodyguards have turtles, starfish, and sea crabs tattooed on their bald heads.

In front of the last aquamarine door, a man, tall with a body overflowing with mounds of fat, stood. If this was the sea, and you were going to meet a whale, this man was truly like a male seal. The Baikal Seals live in Russia, in the great lake. They could reach five feet and length and weigh 290 pounds. But this man was far bigger than even the biggest seal you’d ever seen. You look up at him, jaw dropping. This man would probably rule the beaches of Baikal as a seal!

He looked down at you. “The only way to impress the store manager is to show your true self.” He rumbled. “I have never seen a woman do this before. So who knows what might happen? But it will be a clash of heart upon heart. If your woman’s heart can reach him then…”

The Seal Man trailed off into silence and stepped to one side.

The last door slowly swung in. The fresh scent of seaweed comes to your nose, and your ears are full of the sound of water, as if you were facing the undulating sea. 

Behind the door was a rotunda, with a huge ring-shaped transparent fish tank as the wall. Clusters of soft coral grew on the rocks. Sea grass swayed in the artificial waves. Sea turtles slowly floated up, to just touch their noses to the surface. The two-meter long tiger shark has swam around the hall. 

The ocean… again. You think bitterly. The Arctic Sea, then the Deep Sea of Japan, and now this? Most people were overwhelmed by the sight of such a magnificent office. After all, the amount of money to maintain something like this had to exceed the yearly salary of an ordinary person every month! But your eyes grow cold and your frown with annoyance. You’re sick of the ocean.

The hall was very open, with two rows of bookshelves behind an oversized desk. In the light sat a stout man that reminded you of a giant bear. His whole body bathed in aquamarine - from his aquamarine satin suit to his aquamarine leather shoes, with a huge aquamarine ring on his ring finger and a red coral brooch on his chest. He sat on an aquamarine velvet sofa, smoking a thick Churchill cigar, gently stroking a famous breed of Himalayan cat, and shaking a cup of golden alcohol on the rocks, which reflected a splendid light. 

True to his name, the store manager Whale is even more dominant when he appears in private marine settings. He wore huge sunglasses. The top of his head shined like bright tile. Were it not for the blue whale tattooed on the side of his head, you would have thought that he too was part of the yakuza. But seeing it took away from the seriousness of it all.

He looks at you and quirks a single eyebrow. He eyes you up and down once and then nods, looking over to Caesar, Zihang, and Mingfei. “It looks like you weren’t kidding me about her.”

What did Caesar say? You wonder and glance over your shoulder, but the three men were already moving to the aquamarine sofas near the glass walls.

This was it. You take a deep breath. Whatever the question, you would answer with your truth. No matter how difficult, no matter how dark, no matter how cold. If he didn’t like it? Tough. Such rich and privileged men could rarely handle a truth, especially a woman’s truth. Such was reality. You doubted this sort of tactic would let you win, but you had to trust Caesar.

And yourself.

The Whale picked up a brush and dipped it in ink. Instead of writing he froze, looking up at you once again. His eyes behind the tint met your cold challenging ones. He slowly lifted the brush, looked down at a small parchment.

He wrote in quick elegant calligraphy, two characters which he held up for all to see. “Lost Love.”

“Ms. MC. The question I am asking you is about lost love.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and your eyes widen. You’d opened your heart and now, it was like he had taken a long sword and run you through with it! Your ears tingle. Your eyes burn. Your hands, still clasped in front of you, jerk tighter to dig your nails in, a reflex to stem the emotional pain.

“In this line of work, we deal with many women who have no love or have never experienced it. Caesar says you have never experienced the love of a man. So tell me. What can you say about Lost Love?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. The memories spiral up from your heart and through your mind like a long sleeping geyser that had finally erupted, flooding your body and rendering you speechless.

The darkness of the winter solstice comes again, but it’s midday in the arctic. So the pale blush of the reminder of sun was just starting to appear on the low horizon. The sky is full of stars. The green aurora dances over head like a parade. The lighthouse in the distance peals its church-like bell, slowly rotating its sword of light though the thick night air. A flock of white snow geese pass by, in V formation, calling encouragement to each other on the journey.

Renata is sitting alone on stones swept free from the fallen dry snow. Her blond hair is tucked up in her fur lined hood and her body is covered head to toe in the thick coat that was patched over and over in many colors. 

Your breath fogs in front of your face as you sigh and make your way up.

A whale always passed by here this time of day on Christmas. It was a secret you shared only with her and you came up here every year to see it. As you go to sit down next to her, the whale appears, a black shadow moving under the ice.

“Make a wish.” She whispers.

Normally, people wished on stars. But the stars were frozen and inert in the sky, stuck here, just like you. The whale, however, was free to roam as it liked. It had the power to make dreams come true.

After a moment, Renata looked up at you, her pale blue eyes sparkling. Her skin was good, her lips bright and her cheeks flushed against the winter frost. “What did you wish for?”

“The same thing I wish for every year.” You reply warmly.  “I want to be just like the whale. To be free and live in the ocean."

Renata grins and giggles. "If that day ever comes, I hope that I'll be standing right next to you. I'm very happy to have you... by my side.”

Your breath suddenly flies from your lungs and your eyes rise again to the sea of blue around you. The fish, the shark, the coral and the tortoises. It is just like you were once again miles under the sea. 

Your hand goes over your mouth.

You’re speaking with a whale.

“Renata…” Your voice squeaks and your knees shake.

Whale doesn’t understand your words and his confused look brings you back to earth. But you can’t school your expression. You feel like you’re bleeding out and you can’t stop it. Your mind is in a daze of joy and pain. Even though your eyes are swimming with tears, the joy stretches your face into a rapturous smile!

You were swimming free, like the whale in the ocean. You’ve been to the big city. And even though you could no longer hear her voice, you can feel her with you, like a shadow that held the warmth of her hand in yours. Never had it been so strong as now.

“Lost Love?” You look him with this blaze of emotions pouring from your cold dark eyes. “Oh, Whale… there’s no such thing!”

The Whale’s jaw drops. His hand goes limp. The ink brush drops from his hand and falls to the carpet, spraying the ink on his aquamarine shoes.

For a moment, there is silence. And then a wail, like a roar of an injured beast!

The fat man who had greeted you is weeping openly, one arm over his eyes. He’s moaning out something in Japanese that you don’t understand.

Lu Mingfei quietly translates. “That guy's name is Fujiwara Kanousuke. Before he went to The Sea to become a male performer he was a Daiguan-level sumo wrestling star, just shy of rising to the top 'Yokozuna'. His previous girlfriends were all Japanese drama stars, and he was considered a hot and beautiful man in Japan. But then a female fan heard the news that he was getting engaged and desperately jumped to her death. This is the first time he understands how she felt." 

His eyes lower and he falls into silence while the man sobs.

Chu Zihang stands up and wanders away from the group, raising his eyes to watch the sea turtles swimming by.

Whale slammed his fist on the desk and everyone jumped. The cat hisses and flies off his lap in a blur to hide behind the bookcases. “This… this…” He croaked, shaking. Beads of sweat were rolling down his bald head. They moistened his nose and his glasses slipped down his face. “This power… I thought I’d never see it.”

Power…? Your emotions are almost calm but the effort of control has left crescent moon bruises in your aching hands.

“The power to move a man’s heart to action, to reach out and to embrace another woman’s heart, uncontrollably! Yes! YES!”

He leans on the desk, glaring at Caesar, “BasaraKing… I want to keep her here but I cannot accept your offer to make her do something as crass as bidding up fish. I want her to be a challenge to my precious performers! To pour out their love on her to the superlative degree!”

Your eyes widen and you freeze in place. What did that mean?!

Lu Mingfei was equally appalled but as soon as he opened his mouth, Caesar’s hand slapped over it to silence him. “Yes, sir. I’m glad her answer pleased you.”

“I cannot give you an Ikemen persona… you are not Ikemen… no… the opposite. You…”

He pointed a shaking ringed finger at you. “You! Are!”

He swept out his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling, shouting like an evangelical preacher. “YOU ARE THE MAIN CHARACTER!”

[ickle-ronniekins]

excuse me, but i’m here to just be a brat and send my own self into a complete and total meltdown

a concept: george weasley trying be obvious toward his girl that he’s ready to spend his life with her and finds himself grinning like a complete FOOL at the fact that she’s got her head in the clouds and cannot seem to fathom how serious he is

thanks leeann for all these headcanons we’re discussing and just making me SMILE LIKE AN IDIOT. @thoseofgreatambition

guess i’ll do the george tag list for this then? @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

light of the moon

The cobblestone felt weirdly inviting beneath his feet; the heat of the bright summer sun was finding every single area of his exposed skin, but he didn’t mind. Up ahead, he watched you drop your bags lightly on the front porch as you peered up at the small yellow cottage house, surrounded by nothing but wildflowers and lillies. Your absolute favorite. He knew that. That’s why he’d picked it — special. For this weekend. For you.

When you whirled around, the bottom of your sundress whirled with you. Your grin was brighter than the beaming sun.

It sent his heart soaring toward the sky.

He found himself suddenly feeling extremely sentimental to the surrounding walls; not like he was remembering it from somewhere, exactly, but like he was preparing to remember it sometime in the future. He couldn’t shake the feeling that one day, he’d end up here again, with a completely new life on the horizon.

He felt feelings of warmth lift his cheeks at the sight of you making light work around the tiny house; casually folding blankets and leaning them across the bed, lighting vanilla scented candles near the window that overlooked the water, placing the kettle on the burner to prepare the evening tea. There was something about domestic life that seemed to make his heart thunder rather dramatically against his ribcage, as if it were trying to escape at the mere sight of you in a house dress, pouring him some tea and placing featherlight kisses to his temple. He felt his breath hitch at the contact. It was nothing new. In fact, the feeling of your hand gently sweeping against his, or your lips pressed to his forehead in random moments throughout the day — they were all too familiar. Maybe that’s why he’d felt the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck each and every time you did so. Because it was all too familiar. The kind of familiar he wouldn’t mind feeling forever.

Outside, the moon was high and bright in the evening sky; he could see it glistening in your eyes as you leaned back against him, the warm water in the tub sent a feeling of peace through his body. He felt his heart sigh at the sound of your breathless voice — “Isn’t it just beautiful?”

Yes, he wanted to tell you. Of course you were. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, in fact.

“Would be nice to live here, wouldn’t it?”

You squeezed his knee underneath the water; he smiled at the contact and began separating your wet hair into pieces to drape over your shoulder so he could place featherlight kisses at the nape of your neck.

“It’s just like the one I lived in when I was a little girl.”

Another light kiss. Another absentminded caress of the knee.

“I think it’d be a lovely place to spend your life, don’t you?”

Another rather loud heart-thumping came from his chest. “I really do,” he told you. “I could see us here one day.”

He thought you’d look up at him, thought you’d note the absolute sincerity in his voice. He thought, maybe, that your heart would begin to thunder at thoughts of the future creeping into your mind. He wanted you to know how serious he was — about everything. Life together, looking at forever, finding home in a small cottage, kids running wild through the lillies toward the water’s edge.

When you didn’t, though, he found himself laughing lightly. You leaned back against him again and peered up to meet his gaze; now he’d gotten your attention.

“What’s so funny?” Your grin was painfully beautiful.

He pulled you closer to him, causing some of the water to spill out over the edge of the tub. “Nothing,” he replied breathlessly, looking up once again on the twinkling stars in the night sky. The slight hum from you as you breathed in and out is all he could focus on; the sound he wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of his years. A light pink color rose on your cheeks as he said, “You’re just beautiful, is all.”

But the prospect of surprising you excited him in a way he’d never felt, just as he’d surprised you early when you’d arrived at the tiny yellow-brick cottage house. Your widened eyes and air of excitement made him weak at the knees; he couldn’t wait to spoil you for years to come.

“Love?”

“Hmm?”

You opened your mouth to speak but shut it just the same. He noticed a few goosebumps rise on your shoulders.

“Would it be silly of me to say that I’d love to grow old here with you one day?”

He felt his entire body relax at the prospect; again, a light laugh escaped his lips with no effort. Sweet girl. Nervous as anything. Not picking up on his queues. One of the reasons he’d fallen in love with you to begin with. He was nearly putty in your hands at all of these thoughts. If you only knew.

“No, darling,” he told you and placed another kiss to your shoulder. “It’s not silly to me.”

“Not scaring you away, am I?”

The light, airy sound of your laugh made his insides twist.

Scared? If anything, he found himself growing even more and more fond of you.

And more thoughts seemed to flood his mind — falling into the bed late at night after your wedding, tipsy and tired and foolish; chasing your children down toward the water before falling in completely; dinners on the porch in the light summer sun; more moments, just like this one, under the faint, calming light of the moon and the stars.

“Just falling more in love with you, actually.”

[cosmiclatte28]

Home (Baekhyun x reader)

DOMESTIC FLUFF (?) 

ENJOY! 

The jingling sounds of key and door carefully pushed open resonated through the half lit apartment. Baekhyun locked his door and carefully switched on the light. His foot steps brought him to the living room, which surprisingly was not neat. He flashed an apologizing smile when he saw the scattered books, papers, and highlighters on top of the coffee table and to the girl who fell asleep uncomfortably on the couch. 

A book was covering half of her face; Baekhyun giggled at the sight. He gently placed his gym bag on the other couch, took the book on her face, marked the page with a highlighter and closed it down. He bent to greet her with a kiss and gave a gentle stroke on her shining brown hair. The girl did not move at all, in which Baekhyun deducted she had been too tired this week. He shuffled into the bedroom, took a soft blanket and returned to the sleeping girl. He draped the blanket over her, and left to shower. That girl is Scarlet, the lucky girl who stole Baekhyun's heart and the one he's engaged to.

One of the room that Baekhyun loves other than the bedroom is the bathroom. His marvelous girlfriend amazingly turned this place's dull bathroom into a masterpiece. Baekhyun thanked his hard work which resulted this marble walls and tiles. He thanked his sweats for purchasing him a pulsing bathtub, but mostly, Baekhyun appreciated how his girl did the lights and ambience for this room. The dim relaxing lights and candles never failed in calming his nerves down. The pack of aroma oils she kept on one of the shelves helped Baekhyun breathe even lighter. 

Today he realized, it's not late yet to have a dip. It's only 10 (that's why he knew his girl had been tired, for she usually waited til' morning). Baekhyun opened the faucet, walked to the box of oils and chose his companion for tonight. He decided to go with vanilla and a blue bath bomb. He tossed the bomb when the water's enough and stripped down. In less than a minute, he was groaning from the pulses which hit his tired body and softly moaned from the comfort the oils and bubbles gave him. He closed his eyes for a moment, did some deep breathing, and reopened his eyes.

He scanned the room, his heart warming when he saw the things in this room came in pair. The tooth brush, the towels, and the vanity sets. His eyes traveled one more time to the rack of body wash collections Scarlet owns. He frowned a little when he realized her collections had changed. 

Baekhyun remembered seeing bottles of colorful and super sweet smelling soaps, but now it's replaced with plain bottles. He squinted his eyes and reached for each bottles. Reading off the titles and scents. He frowned when he read "aromatherapy edition". Though he admit the smells are wonderful, he tried to get her message. The bottles were labeled like Sleep, Stress, and Love. He returned them and glanced at the scented candles which Scarlet likes to light when she showers. The fun bakery or fruity smells was replaced too with another Sleep candle. He felt something’s wrong. Quickly he finished his bath, washed, and tugged on his shorts.

He walked out of the steamy shower, bare chested, then tip toed to the dining table. He made himself a glass of warm milk and sat down while looking at his sleeping girlfriend. Scarlet has always been a shining, restless ball of energy, with lots of positivity, just like him. But he was late to realize that she was going through a lot. 

Baekhyun's comeback activities have not allowed him to go home early, except today since two members started to feel sick, nor did it allow him to send texts and sneak calls. He tried to remember when was the last time he checked on Scarlet, and he felt bad when he figured out how much of an uncaring boyfriend he is. He looked at the engagement ring on his left finger and then to Scarlet, played a bit with it, and guilt flooded his body.

When was the last time Baekhyun asked how's she doing? When did he call first or texted first? When did he come home to ask her how her day went? When Baekhyun did accompany her to finish her mountain of home works? When did he really act like her man?

The answer was long time ago. It's always Scarlet who started the conversation, it's always her waiting for him. Scarlet's the one who forced her tired body to stay awake, just to welcome tired Baekhyun home. Scarlet's the one who always asked and listened attentively to how his day happened. She's the one who prepared his bath and bed. 

Every morning they still see each other. Drinking coffees and eating breads, Scarlet usually asked him how his sleep was while packing a lunch for her, and him. Not to forget how she always yawned from staying awake to finish her tasks and woke up early to fetch Baekhyun his breakfast and lunch. 

He felt like a shit, had he ever sit next to Scarlet all night when she typed words into her laptop, while chugging on cups and cups of coffee? Rarely. Yes he tried and failed miserably, but Scarlet never for once put a grudge on this. Baekhyun saw her charged phone on the island. He reached it and opened the lock, swiped until he found the calendar widget. He scanned through it and learned that this month is her final exam weeks; that explains the books and papers. He carefully noted down each day's exam. Baekhyun made a small plan on his mind. A small support which he hoped can help her pass the exams.

After finishing his milk, he walked to Scarlet, picked her up and put her down on their bed. He returned to the living room to pack on her belongings for tomorrow's class and tidied up the couch. After noting the clock, he turned off the lights and joined Scarlet to dream land. Baekhyun counted the hours of sleep, its 23.30, his schedule tomorrow starts at nine, while Scarlet's class starts at eight. He will wake up earlier tomorrow, make her breakfast, and walk her to campus. Baekhyun smiled at himself, then after another kiss he closed his eyes.

The sun rays woke Baekhyun up around 6. He carefully left his bed, washed, and walked to the kitchen. He turned the coffee machine on, heated the water, then prepared two cups. Baekhyun yawned as he checked on their fridge, surprisingly there are eggs, hams, and cheese. He threw his head to the counter and smiled when he saw bread. He noted he has to grab groceries on his way home, this fridge won't refill itself.

Baekhyun finished cooking the second egg, when a fresh showered Scarlet surprised him with a back hug.

"Morning bae, sorry for sleeping deep last night," Scarlet kissed Baekhyun's exposed neck.

"Morning too babe, no problem... I saw your tiring schedules, it's okay to fell asleep. I like it better, for you to stay healthy." Baekhyun said as he plated the egg on top of the bread, then topped it with cheese and ham then bread. He turned the stove off and returned the kiss Scarlet gave.

"Hmm the coffee's ready." Scarlet inhaled the sweet smell of coffee.

Baekhyun grinned, "Just sit down my lady; I'll prepare this for you." Baekhyun poured milk into one coffee. He knew her well!

Scarlet took a snap and updated her Instagram.

"What? I'm just going to post this so your fans can day dream on you."

Baekhyun said nothing to this, he's thankful though that even though some fans hated her in the beginning, by today they shifted to support them and Baekhyun's thankful Scarlet has been strong so far.

"Let's eat. Enjoy your breakfast." Baekhyun smiled.

"Thanks Baekhyun." She smiled and delicately finished her portion.

"How's your sleep?" Baekhyun asked this time, and he did not miss how Scarlet seemed surprised and happy he asked first. Gosh why did he not do this before? Seeing her surprised and happy made him happy too.

"Amazing! I dreamed that a handsome prince came to kiss my nightmares away, oh Baek it feels real," She gazed into the space.

Baekhyun giggled and brought his hand to ruffle her hair.

"How's yours?" Scarlet asked back.

They caught up with one another, exchanged small talks on how the comeback is going, annoyed conversation on Scarlet's never ending tasks, planned about visiting their parents, and many more.

"Come let's get ready. I can walk you to campus today." Baekhyun stood up and collected the dirty plates. He washed them quickly as Scarlet prepared herself.

They're ready. Baekhyun's wearing black and black with a black cap and black masker, on his left shoulder hung Scarlet's school bag, on his right hand the small hand of Scarlet. They walk while enjoying the sun and other couples.

"Baekhyun, I'm sorry if I sound rude.. But can you please return to the pastel and denim looks please? I'm tired of seeing your dark clothes in the laundry." Scarlet spoke.

He did not need to think and nodded, "Sure! I'll dress brighter after this."

Scarlet smiled, "Thanks! It's depressing for me to see your dirty clothes."

Their steps reached the end, Scarlet smiled brightly in front of the campus gate.

"I can take it from here, thanks jagi, good luck with your practice!" Scarlet rose to give a quick peck on his lips and they parted.

That afternoon, practice ended quickly. Baekhyun rushed to the parking lot after changing into a fresh tee.

"Yak, where are you running to?" Chanyeol asked before Baekhyun was gone behind the doors. It is normal for him to rush home, but Chanyeol always asked the details.

"A date probably?" Kyungsoo teased his friend.

"Any special day?" Sehun chimed in too.

"Nah.. I want to go to the market and prepare dinner."

"Wow, did something happen?" Kai asked

"Nothing bad, I just realize I'm not a caring namja..." He blushed

The rest of them laughed it off and just wished him good luck

Baekhyun was thankful today is a Friday and he can leave before 6! Yet he was sure that Scarlet's last class today will end at 6, which gives him enough time to shop and cook.

He rushed to the supermarket nearby the apartment and bought everything needed for dinner and the empty desolate fridge. He restocked the fruits, chocolates, pop corns. He bought home a bouquet of fresh flowers and a letter too.

Once back home, he arranged everything on the refrigerator and began to cook.

Right as he wait for the rice to cook, he arranged the tables and still got time for a quick fresh shower.

Once he he spit the light-blue mouthwash away, the jingles of key made his heart pound.

"Mwoya?" Scarlet gasped in surprise when she was greeted by the dim lit room only from the dining room. She took off her shoes and left her belongings on the sofa. Scarlet stood frozen in front of the dining room.

There stood Baekhyun, all in his boyfriend dreamy look and a bouquet of fresh flowers. Not to mention how perfect his oversized yellow pastel sweater matched his fluffy caramel hair. His eye bags showed naturally how tired he is, no heavy make ups and eye shadows. Just the plain glowing cheeks Scarlet love, to an extend that she will give everything just so his cheeks can glow.

She did not say anything, he was still frozen too, and Scarlet took the moment to melt Baekhyun in her deep meaningful kiss.

"You don't have to do this Baek," she whispered as her lips lingered close to his.

"I wanted to jagiya, here's your flower." He handed her the bouquet.

Scarlet took a deep whiff of the roses and placed it on the vase.

"Wow you cooked dinner!" She giggled as she saw the pile of dirty pans and pots in the sink.

"Don't worry I'll clean them up, before that shall we eat?" He raised his brow.

"One moment!" Scarlet turned to take a quick shower and change her clothes.

She returned only in Baekhyun's oversized baby blue knitted sweater and a messy bun.

"Jja, let's begin" She took her seat and Baekhyun lit the candles.

"I'll bring you to a proper place tomorrow or next week... sorry tonight I rushed.." He shyly said.

"Oh I love this better Baekhyun, anyways your food tastes better than mine! What secrets are you using?" Scarlet ate happily, savoring each spices and sweetness. Baekhyun felt full seeing her this happy. He got it now how mothers felt when their kids finished her meals. It's rewarding.

"Nothing much, I pour my heart into it." He cheekily replied.

Scarlet rolled her eyes on this, "You know what... I owe you something for this perfect surprise. I love you Baekhyun!"

"Well you could thank me with tonight's activity. How long was it again since we did it? Oh damn I've missed your touch." He smirked.

Scarlet's cheeks burned and she finished her glass of water.

"Will you be good for me tonight?" Baekhyun sipped his wine and put on his playful smirk.

Scarlet winked, "We'll see."

[baybee45]

A/N: Chapter 1 Found Here

Boba Fett x Female Reader

Warnings: Deals with mature subjects (slavery, women being objects, canon typical violence)

Ka’ra Chapter 2

A Taste

The Sunlight.

That was the first thing you noticed. The room was bathed in it. It poured in through a small circular window like a broken tap. It was beautiful. You wanted to run through it, scoop it up and splash your face in it. Drop to the floor, waist deep and float in its warm embrace.

The Dust. That was the second. It was everywhere. There was a seascape of dust, whose tides fell and rose according to the last time the area was in use. The few pieces of furniture in the room seemed irritable. Aged veterans, battered and worn from their lives. Still, everything seemingly had its place and was in said place. Everything, except you.

You stand still, gasping for air. Quietly drowning in a room flooded in sunlight and dust.

Boba takes a hold of your wrist and silently examines the golden bracelets of your restraints. As if to say; Let's see what can be done about this.

Reaching for something above the doorframe, Boba brings down a small tarnished object. You eye it in the same way a weathered and scorched soul would look at a cold glass of water. It was key, a taste of freedom. Once freed, you excitedly swing your arms around. Separately! The joy was real, palpable, as if you were a child succeeding at a task for the first time. A small crease forms on your face. A smile frees itself from its long held bondage. You quickly captured it. Looking up you wondering if he caught the silly smile before you were able to tuck it away. If he did, nothing was mentioned as he guides you to the end of the bed.

"Sit."

The bed complains loudly against your weight, upset that you had the audacity to disturb it. Its disgruntled sigh slowly fades, taken over by the unclicking of his armor and the controlled thud of metal hitting floor. With each new addition to the floor another plume of dust is sent upwards.

(By Stars, can he hear it? The sound of your heart ricocheting against your ribs, desperately trying to break its way free.)

Boba now directs his attention back to you. Having escaped it's cage, your heart makes itself at home in your ears. He holds your chin in between his finger and thumb as he parts your legs with his knee. You put up a paper dolls weight of resistance. Just enough, but if he thought about for too long he would think it was just imagined.

Dust dances a second time for you today. Leaping and twirling through the dripping sunbeams.

Still in his undershirt and pants, Boba carefully position his helmet on a desk that had seen better days. It was battle scarred, balancing itself on three legs because the fourth was missing a piece of itself. Lost in some unknown, hard-won conflict.

Tear stained eyes meet coffee stained. He seemed to mirror his room. Older then his years and worn down by life. But beyond the hard edges, there seemed to be something hidden.

"Ka'ra..." That word again. This time it pours out his mouth and onto your lap like a bubbly soft drink. A sugary sweetness coats your ears. It fizzes and tickles, making you shift uncomfortably. Pretty sounds don't always have sweet meanings.

"... Can I kiss you?"

You scoff at the question, at the absurdity.

"I would ask nicer." He replied in a softer tone, leaning you back against the bed. His one arm holding the majority his weight as the other caressed your cheek.

"What if I said no." You wonder out loud, testing the veneer of his question.

'And if I said 'no' again?"

This time his thumb catches your bottom lip parting your mouth partially.

"Just one. Just a taste."

Your eyebrows scrunch at his words.

"Just one kiss?" You ask but he takes it as an invitation. He is gentle. It’s not what you expect. Breaking away he leans his forehead against yours.

"Get some rest. I'm going to take a shower... a cold one."

He leaves you alone in a new prison masquerading as a sanctuary. You didn't think— you don't know what to think. Maybe he's like a Lothcat toying with its food. The catch is always more fun when the prey thinks it has a chance.

You take your chances and silently wade through the different tides your new surrounding. First you find the small tarnished key for yourself. Then quickly glance over his armor. Next you notice an imposing and exasperated looking armoire. The doors screech defiantly as you open them, it is clearly a relative to the bed.

An idea was forming. Scratching at the soft corner of your mind where you had long ago buried any sliver of hope, like a long forgotten treasure— The water in the fresher stops. You take it as your que and quietly try get back into the obstinate bed. The thread-bare sheets feel nice against your skin.

You slow your breathing and pretend to be asleep. Listening to Bobas shuffling feet, you try to plot his course in the newly formed map in your head.

First he walks to the far side of the room to where his helmet is. Then walking back you could hear him shift his armour around. Finally you hear the armoire doors complaining once again. Then for a long time, you hear nothing. Nothing until the sound of him disappearing back into the fresher again.

The fresher door opens with a strained whoosh as he emerges once more. The bed loudly objects against another uninvited guest. Your heart revisits its second home, before slowly returning to its rightful place. Leaving only the sound of a mans gently and steady breathing beside you. Soon your own breathing begins to synchronize with his. Flashes of buried silver and a tarnished key fill your mind as you begin to drift off.

~~~~~~~~~

There is a loud and obligatory knock before a rat scurries in without concern for permission. Bib studies the scene with shifting eyes;

A man, bare-chest and glistening and a crumpled paper doll beside him in clothes that not so much need to be removed but just moved aside. Only a handful of conclusions could be jumped to. And the truth? The truth was so far fetched it didn't even enter the vermin’s small mind.

A gruff and loosely formed "What?" leaves Boba's mouth. You hear only bits and pieces of the conversation swirling around you, your world still cushioned by sleep.

"A job... Two more... Money?...Jabba slave..." Your ears awake mid sentence at the mention of you.

"— we can talk more in the morning, about your next job and payment when you bring back the girl."

Boba turns over towards you as the door closes. His hand glides across your stomach and his thumb rest in the valley of were your two ribs meet.

"Hungry?" He questions.

The offer of food was something you could not resist. For weeks now you had only been given a soup, you imagined the consistency close to what it would be like eating your own vomit, cooled and then heated just enough to take the chill off. You pretend to start waking up.

"Quit the act."

Quit the act? He has no idea. You turned to face him with a glimmer in your eye. A new hope burning bright, a plan was about to be set in motion. As wobbly as a new born Dugar dugar but you'll be running with it soon.

And Boba?

He saw that glimmer blazing brighter then any star in the known galaxy. Boba wonder how you held the depths of the universe in your eyes. A secret riddle he hoped would never be solved, so they could constantly be search through for an answer.

[minetteenfers]

Day 4: Breaking More Than My Heart (Chapter 2 of Hello, My Old Heart)

Here is Day 4 of @blancweek! Nothing NSFW in this chapter, but I will post the link to the story beneath the cut at the end since the fic is Rated E. ^-^

Chapter 2: Day 4= Breaking More Than My Heart

Marinette stood in the kitchen, pouring her soul into making a meal for Chat Blanc. She had worked all day out picking herbs, spices, and gathering a swan for the dishes. Then, she had come in to turn it all into something. Her father had taught her many things as a child, one being how to make the most delicious food that they could create. It was a hidden talent that she had since she was small. Something that she could do well.

Her mother had perished during childbirth and she had always dreamed that she had met her. Her father always told her that she would have loved her because she was exactly like her in many ways. She sighed and finished up supper, putting the items onto dishes for Chat.

Marinette wiped her hands on her skirts. Normally the kitchen of a castle would be full of bustling servants and people with duties to help bake and cook, but this one was empty. She assumed he must have gotten rid of them all. Which meant this only made her life that much harder. She took a deep breath and carried the courses out to the massive dining table.

Chat sat at the table drinking his wine and speaking with guards about how much he disliked people in the keep. It seemed to be his go to conversation until she would set the table.  She didn’t know why the man never spoke of anything but hatred and negative things, but she really couldn’t blame him for being so broken.

He peered up at her and a dangerous smirk appeared on his full lips. “Ah, there you are. What have you provided me with today?”

“Swan and vegetables with bread, your grace.” Marinette grabbed her skirts and curtsied, waiting for him to respond.

“Come. Join me at my side.” Chat kicked the chair beside him away from the table, and she stood up straight to sit down beside him.

Marinette took his fork from him and sighed, taking a bite of swan from his plate. She knew it wasn’t poisoned. She had made it herself and she wouldn’t do that to him, but clearly his trust was lacking.

Chat watched her for any signs of being ill before taking his fork and stabbing a vegetable holding it out to her. She stared at him with a blush, gazing around at his court.

“Go on then.” Chat gestured with his fork and she swallowed hard.

She leaned in and grabbed the bite from his fork. She chewed and took a moment. “Tis good, your grace.”

“Very well then.” Chat cut some of the swan on his plate and took a bite, letting the spices and herbs settle onto his tongue. “Rather delicious.”

“Thank you, your grace.” Marinette smiled and tried to look poised beside him.

“Did your father teach you?” Chat stabbed a potato and brought it up to his lips.

“Yes, your grace.” Marinette licked her lips and tried to not focus on how her stomach rumbled.

“Are you hungry? Surely, you did not eat.” Chat poked a piece of swan and held it out to her. “Eat.”

Marinette shook her head and chewed on her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t.”

“I insist.” Chat smiled and something about it was different than before.

She parted her lips and wrapped them around the bite of meat, taking it into her mouth with a soft hum. “I do miss my father’s cooking.”

“Your father was a good man. Tis a shame my father rid the castle of him ages ago. I should have loved to have him here still.” Chat stabbed a carrot harder than he had intended to, his knuckles turning white around the utensil.

“Twas not your fault, your grace.” Marinette touched his fist, and he licked his lips and sighed.

“Perhaps not, but my father was still my flesh and blood.” Chat grabbed his knife and sliced it along his palm, closing his fist, and dripping the blood onto the tablecloth. “You told me so. I am very much alive, even if I erase the name. Until I perish, I will still be an- an- never mind.”

He flipped his knife and stabbed it into the table, leaving it standing on its sharp tip. “Never mind, shall we finish our meal so that I may make more decisions for the town.”

Marinette wanted to mend his hand and help him, but she didn’t know how. She had no idea how to make him come back to her. He was too full of pain. The bad outweighed the good, and she needed to figure out how to bring him back.

“Shall we take a stroll through the garden?” Marinette hoped that he would agree. She wanted to get him alone, away from his father’s guards.

“Why ever would we do such a thing?” Chat raised an eyebrow at her. “I have far too much to accomplish.”

“Taking a moment to breathe is always a lovely idea.” Marinette touched his arm and he peered down at her hand with widened eyes.

He ripped his arm from her hand, and she sighed. He had done a complete one-eighty since they had played in the kitchen. She felt like her touch burned his skin and no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn’t let her in. He had put up the highest walls with the best guards that their currency could buy and she couldn’t storm it.

“Fine. I shall entertain your idea.” Chat sighed and finished his meal.

Marinette took his plate to the kitchen and went to her chamber to get ready to walk through the garden. She had barely finished getting ready when a knock sounded on her door. Marinette rolled her eyes and opened the door, finding Chat standing there.

“I have yet to explore the gardens since my mother’s death.” Chat worried his bottom lip and she warmly smiled, grabbing his forearm in her hands.

“Allow me to reintroduce you two then.” Marinette led him out of the castle and down to the garden.

Purple and white wisterias hung down from the overhang as it opened up to elegant topiaries and overgrown rose bushes. It was like a dream and it also needed a lot of work.

Chat Blanc held his hand out, catching petals as they fell with a blank expression like he could care less. It had been so long since he had gone out there. So long since he had seen the garden that his mother had insisted on having. To be honest, he had been afraid to venture out to it again. Too many memories of being a child with her. Too many fractals of her smiles and laughs before it was taken over by coughs and tears.

“Your mother loved this garden.” Marinette sighed and ran her fingers along the flower bushes. “Tis sad to see it overgrown like this. Although, I am sure that it can be mended easily. It just needs a bit of love.”

Chat swallowed hard as memories of his mother and him flooded his memory. Memories of her sneaking him out to play like she had felt a kid should.

“My mother would sneak me out here to play as a child,” Chat spoke quietly, and Marinette nearly missed it.

“Mm-hm. She was fond of children being able to play. She would always speak of children needing to have a bit of fun even if society has deemed it to be inappropriate.” Marinette giggled and plucked a white flower, spinning it between her fingers, as she walked back towards him with swaying hips. “I used to dream of what it would be like to be in Eden and I always felt that this must be what it is like when I came here. Though, not often. There were duties to be done.” She reached up to place the flower in his paled golden hair. “You had them too.”

“Too many. Still do, I am afraid.”  Chat took the flower from his hair and flicked it across the garden.

Marinette watched it land in the pond, sending slight ripples through the water, and she nodded. “I see. Well, I shall not keep you then.”

Chat tried to ignore how he felt surrounded by his mother in the garden. He tried to ignore that he felt like she was whispering to him and trying to pull him out of the waves of disaster and pain. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want to be helped, even if he had told Marinette to.

“Marinette.” Chat stopped her from leaving with his hand held out to her.

“Yes, your grace?” Marinette turned around to stare at him, watching how the fallen petals swirled around him and for a moment she thought she saw Adrien instead. But it quickly faded away as fast as it had come.

“Do-” He had no idea what he was going to say. His words had left him.

“Yes?” She walked closer to him and hoped he was coming back.

“Do you think that my mother is watching?” Chat swallowed hard as he thought about it.

“I think… she never left.” Marinette warmly smiled and ran her hands down his doublet to smooth it out, stopping to play with a button.

“What do you mean?” Chat peered down at her slender fingers on his button, fiddling with it.

Marinette slowly peered up to meet his saddened gaze, “Your mother lives on in your heart.”

“My heart has frozen over.”

Marinette placed one hand over his heart, “If it is merely frozen over then it just needs a bit of warmth. The forest is not dead all year. Eventually, the sun comes out to warm its leaves and streams. The forest rebirths into something wonderful again with spring. The flowers bloom and the leaves green. The streams flow and trickle with beautiful waters. Much like our hearts. The memories and pain may never take their leave, but we can heal with time. Just takes a bit of love and warmth. Someone to tell us that everything will become well again.”

Chat swallowed hard and touched her hand, searching her gaze and struggling to not let tears fall. Why was she not running? Why was she still here? Why was she saying everything that she was? He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve anything she was telling him, and he knew he had to prove it. He had to prove that he was as bad as they say in the town. She was getting too close.

“You know what my father told me?” Chat took her hand from his chest and she raised an eyebrow at him as he walked away with his hands behind his back.

“I am sure he told you many things.” Marinette didn’t know what he was getting at.

“He told me how useless your father was in the kitchen. How much he loathed the man and his subpar cooking.” Chat peered up at the wisterias.

“Yes, well he was not too fond of father.” Marinette sighed and walked towards him again. “But his grace rarely enjoyed the company of anyone except your mother.”

“My father also spoke of you.” Chat slowly turned to face her and she swallowed hard.

She knew what was coming and she wasn’t prepared for it. He was spiraling backwards, and this experiment had only turned south. She took a deep breath and prepared herself.

“And?” Marinette cringed as she spoke the word.

“He was correct. You are good for nothing more than a mistress.” Chat’s words sliced through her heart and her bottom lip quivered.

“You do not mean that!” Marinette stormed towards him and he glared at her as she held up her hand about to smack his cheek.

“I would think wisely before you choose to do such an action to your king.”

“I do not see a king or a prince, but a scared little boy,” Marinette spit the words at him and ran back to the castle.

Chat growled beneath his breath as he watched her run from him. He still considered himself a prince, but he needed to say something stronger. While he was now the King, he didn’t want it and so he kept his title as prince within the castle. And while he was terrified of being alone, as he was, he wouldn’t go as far as saying he was a small child. He had grown and become mature because he had had to. There wasn’t another option. And if he let her get close, then she would know how truly broken he was and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t be a burden for her.

 ***

 Marinette laid on her bed and sobbed into it. She just wanted Adrien back. She wanted the boy that she grew up watching in secret back in her life. She wanted the man that had been in the kitchen the other day back. But right now, he was nowhere to be found. She sniffled and got up, visiting her vanity to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. She had to clean up his chamber among other duties around the house.

It was the last duty that he had put on her list for the day. She had no idea how he lived alone with no one to keep up on housekeeping. It was more work than one person could handle alone. She knew that it wasn’t his fault that he had obliterated everything, but a few guards. That he had done away with most of the servants because he was afraid of hurting anyone. His heart was broken after his father had been trialed and his name had been soiled. Not only that, but he had been shoved onto the throne with little time. The whole town had erupted into questions over the late King.

Adrien hadn’t been ready to deal with it and she knew that. She knew that it had been too much too soon. He had been trained since birth to do his father’s bidding, but that had not prepared him for something such as this. So, the man had shoved everyone away and locked himself away with few guards. Ones he trusted since he was a child.

She took a deep breath and brushed her trembling hands down her skirts and put on a fake smile. She could do this. She had to do this. She had been told that no one could change him back but her. There was something about her that would make his mind flip back to being the kindhearted boy that he had always been. She felt more tears threaten to fall and she reached up to wipe them away.

“Seize your sobbing, Marinette. You are merely being silly.” She rolled her eyes at herself and walked out of her chamber, making her way to his.

Guards whispered near the door and she stood and waited for them to let her inside. They stepped away from the double doors and she opened them, finding Chat sitting on a chaise lounge.

She gasped and about turned around to leave when he stopped her, “Are you not going to wash my items?”

“I thought you would be in your study.” Marinette cleared her throat, as he stood up and walked over towards her in only a tunic and a pair of trousers.

“Tis true that I should be making decisions, but alas, here I be.” He spread his hands out and relaxed them beside his thighs on the cushion. “So, feel free to wash up around me.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and walked over to his bed, stripping it to begin to get it ready to be laundered. She worked around him, ignoring how his eyes seemed to follow her every move.

“Do you really intend to watch me?” She peered over at him as she placed new linens onto the bed.

“Would you rather I helped?” Chat raised an eyebrow at her and she scoffed at him.

“I would rather you were more of a gentleman,” Marinette mumbled under her breath as she fluffed his pillow.

“Pardon me?” Chat stood up and walked over towards her.

Marinette sighed and let her hands rest on the bed before she stood up straight, “Do you know what your mother would speak to us every morn?”

“Enlighten me.” Chat set his jaw, and she knew that he didn’t want to hear it.

“Every morn, she would come gather the children to tell them a tale. Usually, one with a moral story.” Marinette shrugged and went about the room, finishing up other duties.

Chat Blanc watched her with no words, mostly because he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about his late mother that had passed away from an illness. He didn’t want to venture into the pain that still gripped at his heart and made it hard to breathe, hard to live.

“Have you heard of The Songbird?” Marinette opened his curtains that appeared to have not been parted in God knows how long.

“I can not say that I have.” Chat gave in and sat down in a chair, grabbing a cup of wine. He held it out to her, and she sighed, grabbing a tasting bowl from the bag hidden by her skirt.

She took the bottle and glass, pouring some into the bowl and tasting them for him. “Tis good, your grace.”

She passed them back and he took a long sip from the glass. “Enlighten me.”

“Once there was a songbird, that was free to fly about the land. A knight was wandering through the forest and came upon a beautiful melody. The most beautiful one he had ever laid his ears upon. He peered up to find a golden songbird on a branch. The gorgeous little thing sang and sang. The knight thought that his maiden would love such a prized possession so, he captured it in a cage.” Marinette sighed and folded a few more items.

“Seems quite ridiculous.” Chat scoffed and rolled his eyes, drinking more wine.

“The knight brought the little bird home to his maiden and presented it to her. She was quite delighted, and of course, she wanted to hear the bird sing.” Marinette leaned forward a bit with an awkward smile.

“And did the damned thing sing?” Chat leaned back in his chair with his forearm draped over the arm of it.

“He tried to make the songbird sing. He tried everything he could ponder up, but nothing seemed to work. He failed in every way. His maiden became quite upset and questioned why he would present a broken gift. He told the tale of how he had come upon the little bird. How beautiful the bird had sung in the forest.” Marinette sighed and sat down on the chaise lounge. “For days, he would shake the cage and demand for that poor bird to sing. But the bird would do nothing but sit on the small perch made from a twig in this gilded cage. He called it useless and unworthy, pathetic, imperfect. The poor thing dropped its head and became sadder. Trapped, it’s beautiful golden plumage dulled to a pale butter.”

Chat moved on to tipping the wine bottle to his lips, ditching the glass onto the table beside his chair. He didn’t want to hear more of this story. He had had enough of this silly game.

“The knight became angry and grabbed the cage, taking it outside. His maiden had followed him, wondering what the commotion was about. The knight opened the cage, and the little bird was shy. It would not budge from its gilded cage, feeling like it was nothing more than an imbecile bird. Too damaged and imperfect. Unloved and unwanted. But the sunshine warmed its wings, comforting it, and coaxing it from its cage. The poor thing began to gently flap its wings, before taking off. It landed on a branch somewhere in the forest and began to sing its sweet melody again. For how can a trapped bird sing?” Marinette searched his expression and watched his eyes flash to emerald before shifting back to sapphire again.

Read and bookmark the whole short fic here!

Some of the songs I wrote To:

This one for some reason screams Chat Blanc for me in this or in general:

[nxmuzluv]

"Ultimatum" | Ariana Silvera.

@raes-ramblings has once again inspired me to actually write and finish a fic, so take this angst-filled piece of my rwby oc's backstory !!

warnings ! - death, assisted s//icide (i think ??), blood, just angst upon angst lol

show - rwby

characters - ariana silvera, scarlett zhuhong

“How do your parents let you go down here?”

Ariana shrugged as she kicked a pebble down the streets of Mantle, her honey brown eyes locked on the ground. “They trust me enough.” She responded, watching as the pebble flew a couple of inches down the road.

Scarlett giggled at her friend’s reply. “Can’t say the same for me.” The redhead said. “My parents are pretty… micromanaging.”

Ariana tried to stifle the giggle that wanted to escape her lips, but it came out anyway. “At least you have me, right?” The black and silver-haired girl said with a smile. Scarlett laughed, lightly shoving Ariana in the shoulder.

The two continued to walk down the street, comfortable silence soon falling over them. Ariana was preoccupied with kicking that same pebble down the road, while Scarlett was looking around, taking in the scenery that she rarely got a chance to see. Nothing much was going on, but the peacefulness of the moment was more than enough. The residents of Mantle were simply engaging in everyday activities. There was the faint sound of laughter and chatter, the smell of freshly cooked food, the sound of utensils against plates from inside various restaurants, and the sound of blaring sirens and sudden screams…

...Wait.

Suddenly, the buildings around Ariana and Scarlett were coated in a harsh red, the streetlights no longer their once peaceful blue shade. People ran like hell from whatever was coming, and their frames were just blurs in the girls’ eyes. Their eyes widened at the sudden, unexpected chaos, and as they approached a corner, they came across the source of the overwhelming panic. The wall concealing Mantle from the harsh elements of the tundra had been blown right open, and there was Grimm pouring in like rushing water, running right over the rubble like it was nothing.

Ariana and Scarlett were practically frozen in their spots. The ravenette 15-year-old snapped out of it, though, and instantly grabbed her friend’s hand, speeding down the street as fast as her boot-clad legs could take her.

“Why did Grimm have to break in now?!” Scarlett yelled, her panicked voice cutting through her harsh and heavy breaths.

“I…” Ariana could barely get a word out. “I don’t know! We need to get out of here, though, and I need to call my dad!”

The girls continued running, but they had no clue where they were running to. Ariana could hear her heart frantically beating through the sounds of blood-curdling screams, growling Grimm, and her heeled-boots rapidly clicking against the concrete. Her palms were practically drenched with sweat, and she held onto Scarlett’s hand tighter. She couldn’t afford to let go. Ariana flinched at the sound of a Boarbatusk crashing into a building, sending glass flying across the street. All she could do was keep running, and hope that the Grimm behind her and Scarlett didn’t see them, filled to the brim with nothing but fear and running like their lives depended on it. Because, honestly, it did.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, the girls stumbled upon a vacant building, the interior pitch black. Ariana darted towards it, pulling Scarlett along with her, and she frantically twisted the lock once the door was slammed shut. It was dead silent, save for the sound of the sheer chaos outside and the sound of the girls’ heavy breaths. It was also as dark as night, that was until Ariana pulled out her scroll.

The blue light illuminated her porcelain face, and it served as somewhat of a light source, casting a faint light on parts of the room. Ariana’s scroll buzzed in her hands, and the longer it did so, the more anxious she got.

“Please answer…” The ravenette mumbled. “Dad, please…”

The girl’s heart dropped when no one picked up, and her brown eyes widened with both shock and fear. Ariana’s breathing picked up, and she desperately tried to get it to slow down. “Ari?” Scarlett suddenly said, her voice soft. Ariana couldn’t bring herself to raise her head. “Did… did anything happen?”

Before she could answer, Ariana tried again. Nothing. A lump rose in her throat, and she cringed as she forced it back down. “He’s…” She replied. “He’s not answering.”

“What?!” Scarlett exclaimed, her lavender eyes wide. “Why?!” Ariana became more and more stressed out as the seconds passed. She tried calling again, and again, and again, but every single time, she would be met with the same outcome. Nothing. Now, not only was she worried about the safety of herself and her friend, but she was worried about the safety of her family. Ariana had the same question as Scarlett. Why wasn’t her father answering?

“I don’t know…” She responded. “M-maybe I should try my mom-” Ariana’s words were abruptly cut off… and in the worst way possible.

A loud bang echoed through the building, startling the girls out of their minds. Another one came, and another. Ariana and Scarlett jumped back, and the former instinctively gripped onto the handle of her katana. A few seconds passed with nothing but silence and the feeling of dread and rising anxiety heavy in the air, but that silence was about to be broken, that dread was about to turn into pure panic, and that anxiety was about to reach its peak. A Boarbatusk crashed through the door, creating a gaping hole in the wall. It sent rubble and glass flying, and the harsh, chilly wind threw Ariana and Scarlett’s hair back.

The creature of Grimm roared, sending chills down the girls’ spines. Ariana frantically unsheathed her katana, but Scarlett acted quicker. Being the Summer maiden, the redhead pulled rocks from the rubble, letting them hover in the air before sending them towards the Boarbatusk with lighting speed. The rocks held it back, but it was far from enough. It shook them off, and let out an earth-shaking roar yet again. Ariana stuck her katana back into its ebony black sheath, lifted it off her belt, and held it up with shaky, gloved hands. She fired at the Boarbatusk a few times, only making it angrier. It rushed forward, but Scarlett formed a harsh wind, sending the Grimm backwards and into another building. The girls watched as it struggled to get up, but turned to look at each other. Both of them could see the fear in each other’s eyes, and they had no clue what to say. And worst of all, they had no clue what to do.

“W-what are we supposed to do, Scarlett?” Ariana asked, her voice quivering ever so slightly. The fear and anxiety that had settled itself in her chest long ago was only rising.

“I have no clue, Ari.” Scarlett said. “I can only hold it off for so long. Come up with something… anything.”

Ariana’s hands shook, and the grip she had on her katana tightened. Her thoughts were racing, and she was frozen in place yet again. However, as the Boarbatusk finally rose from the rubble and as a roar erupted from its throat, the ravenette was pulled out from the prison that was her mind, and she instantly perked up.

With the simple press of a button, dust rushed through her sheath, turning the silver streak through it a fiery red. Ripping it off her belt, Ariana held it up again, and fired a single, bright red bullet at the creature that was rushing towards her and Scarlett. An explosion shook the building, coating the room in a shade of red and filling it with thick, gray smoke. Pieces of the building fell off and onto the Boarbatusk, and that combined with the explosion had it screaming in pain. Unfortunately, that pain had only increased its anger. It rushed at the girls with only one thought in mind; to kill. The anxiety in the room was at an all time high, and as the creature of Grimm rushed into it, Ariana’s brown eyes instantly widened. She tried to grasp onto her second katana, but she was met with… nothing.

She had forgotten the other one.

Ariana panicked like never before, and she internally cursed herself for forgetting, especially at a time such as this. “Scarlett!” She screamed, her throat raw as another lump formed in it.

She watched as the Boarbatusk took Scarlett into its jaw, and she had never felt so helpless. The creature’s head thrashed at it threw the redhead around, before violently throwing her into a wall, shattering her bright red aura and leaving her nearly unconscious against it. Ariana was dead silent for a moment, simply staring at her friend’s nearly motionless body. But once she saw the blood, that’s when tears flooded her eyes, and a blood-curdling scream rose from her chest and tore through the air.

Out of anger, Ariana sent a fiery wave of dust hurtling towards the beast, practically splitting it in half and making it explode from the inside out. As the Boarbatusk’s ashes rose through the air, the black and silver-haired girl rushed towards her friend, tears spilling out of her honey brown eyes. With hands shakier than ever before, she gently lifted up Scarlett’s head. Not only was blood gushing from the wounds in the redhead’s stomach, but it was slowly dripping from her head, as well. It took everything in Ariana to not throw up. Despite her vision clouded with tears, she ripped the fabric of her white shirt, pressing it onto Scarlett’s stomach. Ariana tried so desperately to stop the bleeding, but as the iron-scented liquid seeped through the fabric, it proved that her attempts were futile. It was clear that Scarlett was slipping out of consciousness, and that fact only made Ariana’s hand shake all the more. There was just so much blood, and the more her redheaded friend bled, the more Ariana panicked. The lump in the 15-year-old’s throat constricted her breathing, only making everything worse.

“S-Scarlett?” Ariana said, forcing out the girl’s name. “Can… can you hear me?” Scarlett quietly groaned, trying to open her lavender eyes.

“Y-yeah…” She responded. The sheer pain in her voice made Ariana cringe. “I… I can.”

Ariana couldn’t say anything else. Scarlett’s blood was now dripping onto the rubble-covered floor… and staining Ariana’s hands. She frantically ripped off another piece of fabric, and her once pristine shirt was now tattered and dotted with blood. The girl pressed it onto Scarlett’s stomach, her breaths and her thoughts racing. Once again, the blood seeped through the fabric, making the fabric go from white to a dark shade of red. All Ariana could do was panic more as she realized that she barely had any fabric left. And even if she did, she would get the same result as before. A sob escaped the ravenette’s lips as tears flowed out of her eyes faster. She wanted nothing more than to save Scarlett, to see her friend live. But, she was so lost. She had no idea what to-

“Ari…”

The sound of Scarlett’s faint, pained voice snapped Ariana out of it. She looked down at her friend, her mouth slightly agape. It fell silent for a moment. “...Yes?” She responded.

“Please… s-stop trying so h-hard…” The lavender-eyed girl croaked out. “I’ll be d-dead before you can get help… please… just e-end it…”

Ariana’s eyes widened with shock at what she heard. “W-what?!” She exclaimed, despite her throat hurting like all hell. She couldn’t fathom Scarlett’s words. Did she really want Ariana to… kill her?

“Ari, it hurts. Please.” Scarlett whispered. The pain in her voice was nothing short of depressing. Ariana’s hands couldn’t stop shaking, and more tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill her fucking friend.

“Scarlett… n-no!” Ariana screamed, her voice shaking just as much as her hands were. “I can’t do that… I can’t kill you-!”

Suddenly, the redhead grasped onto Ariana’s hand. Her grip was weak, clearly reflecting just how close she was to death. Ariana instantly stopped screaming, staring down at her friend yet again. “Please.” Scarlett simply said. The girl was practically begging now, and the desperate tone in her voice broke Ariana’s heart.

Ariana’s hand slowly made its way to the handle of her katana. Her hands were still shaking, and shaking rather violently. She was so hesitant, and for good reason. She was being forced to kill her own friend, by her own friend. Ariana took a breath, and swiftly unsheathed her blade. The tears welling up in her eyes teetered over the edge of her eyes, creating streaks down her face. She had held so much hope that Scarlett was going to make it out alive, but that hope was crushed. And it was crushed way too fast.

She slowly raised her katana, bringing it inches away from Scarlett’s neck. The weapon shook ever so slightly as her hands did the same. As she raised it higher and higher, more and more tears escaped her eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry…” Ariana whispered, but even with her hushed tone, Scarlett could hear her. Despite her pain, a bittersweet smile graced the girl’s paling face.

“Don’t be.” She whispered back, letting go of her friend’s shaking hand.

Ariana squeezed her eyes shut, pushing more tears out of her honey brown eyes. She clenched her jaw, ready to bring down her blade upon Scarlett’s neck. But before she could do so, Ariana opened her eyes slightly. She saw the light fading from Scarlett’s lavender eyes, and another sob left her lips. Squeezing her eyes shut again, the ravenette slashed her friend’s neck, and blood spurted out of the fatal wound. It stained her katana, it stained the floor, and worst of all, it stained Ariana’s face. The girl opened her eyes, and was immediately met by Scarlett’s lifeless corpse. She had hit an artery, and with the blood loss the lavender-eyed girl had suffered before, there was no doubting that she was deceased. There was no light left in her eyes, and Scarlett was just left against the wall, unmoving and staring at the ground.

Sobs wracked Ariana’s body, making her entire frame shake violently. Tears poured from her eyes, and faint silver flames surrounded them, as well. Although she was overwhelmed by pure sadness, she knew what had happened.

Scarlett had been thinking of her.

Scarlett had been thinking of Ariana in her final moments, and because of that, she was now the new Summer maiden. But, she didn’t have the strength to dwell on that. She was standing right in front of her friend’s dead body, and it was all because of her. Looking down at her shaking hand, she noticed the blood - Scarlett’s blood - staining her leather gloves and the tips of her porcelain-colored fingers. The sight of blood on her hands only rubbed more salt into the metaphorical wound. It only made Ariana’s realization that she murdered her friend all the more prevalent within her mind.

She hated it.

The longer Ariana sobbed, the stronger her urge to scream grew. It grew and grew, and it got to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore. That harsh scream rose from her aching throat, violently tearing through the air. Her knees gave up on her, causing the girl to fall to the ground.

And Ariana just sat there, sobbing, and unable to stand back up. The fact that she killed her own friend refused to leave her mind, and it was weighing down on her more and more as each second passed.

This would truly be something that she would never forget.

[morgansyorkie]

Too Afraid of Losing You ~ Nolan Patrick

Summary: You’re a med student and you had to graduate early due to the Corona Virus pandemic happening in the Philadelphia area. You have been working insane hours and the exhaustion from it all has definitely took a toll not only on you, but on your boyfriend Nolan Patrick well. You both have come to realization on truly how each of you mean to one another and how much you need one another during this difficult time.

Word Count: 3,660 

Disclaimer: this is my first writing that I am posting, I hope that you all in enjoy it and would love to get any kind of feed back. Thank you :) Also thank you to @quinny-boy-hughes​ and @kravistonecny​ for giving my the courage to write and post this!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who would have thought that two months ago your normal life as a med student was going to change, but change in a way you never thought could happen. Sleeping was starting to become more and more difficult nor it never came at all. You frequently found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night or during the day depending on your crazy schedule. The world as you knew it was changing and not in a good way, your school decided to let all medical students graduate early if they chose to due to the pandemic that was happening here in America.  

Sixteen hours...sixteen hours later you were finally walking into your apartment in downtown Philadelphia feeling completely exhausted and worn out. Your shift was only supposed to be from 7 pm to 7 am a normal twelve hour nurse-based shift, but with the amount of cases that were pilling in overnight, your team had to work overtime to make sure there was enough room for everyone coming in. You quickly kicked your shoes off and headed straight to the bathroom so you can remove your uniform and jump into the hot scolding shower. As you were removing your clothing you noticed a note and a single red rose laying on the countertop of the sink. “You’re so amazing and I’m so proud of you” Love always Nolan

As exhausted as you were, you couldn’t help but smile at the little gesture that your beyond amazing boyfriend Nolan has done for you. Nolan is your absolute everything in this world, he has seen you go through so much while attending med school and knowing that your graduating year had to be cut short due to the Corona Virus outbreak put a toll on the both of you. He was looking forward to watching you walk across the stage and finally getting that diploma that you’ve worked so damn hard for. He was looking forward for after graduation to settle down some and enjoy sometime together and maybe start planning your guys future together before you landed your official nursing job at University of Penn. He was even in talks to the guys about proposing to you when the time was right, but now that’s all thrown out the window due to this insane virus that no one has control over.

Once you got out of the shower, you changed into some sweats and one of Nolan’s hoodies that he totally sprayed his cologne with overnight to make sure that it smelled exactly like him. You walked out of the bathroom and was surprised to see Nolan still spread out in your guys bed peacefully sleeping. Must have been a long night of video games, if he is still sound asleep at this time of the day. As much as you desperately needed sleep you didn’t want to disrupt your boyfriend so you headed towards the spare bedroom and crawled under the blankets. You turned to lay on your side but the scarring on your face made you jolt some, but after a while the cooling of the pillowcases felt good against your beat-up face.  

Nolan rolled over and looked at his phone which had a bunch of notifications that he could care less about, he saw that it was almost noon. He opened his text’s and saw that the last text from you was around eleven in the morning stating you were finally clocking out and heading home. But it’s almost been an hour since that text and he doesn’t understand why you’re not home lying in bed next to him. He got up and walked out of the room “Y/N? Y/N you home”? He asked in a low mumble tone. When there was no response, he got worried, he was about to grab his phone to call you when he noticed the guest bedroom door slightly closed and the bag with your scrubs in it laying out in the hall way. Seeing the bag out in the hall way made his nerves calm down a bit, he softly opened the guest bedroom door and saw you peacefully laying in the bed sleeping. He was glad to have you home safe, but he would be lying if he wasn’t a little hurt for the fact that you were sleeping in the guest bed instead of next to him in your guys bed.

You were finally getting some good sleep for once until you heard the loud ringing coming the night stand next to you. You sat up and rubbed your eyes a few times before answering the phone.  

“Hello?” You answered still half a sleep.  

“Y/N” I am so so sorry to wake you; I know how worn out you must be but I need you to come in for another overnight shift tonight. We just got about another 100 or so cases that rolled in from the time that you left and it’s getting out of hand here. We are going to need all hands-on deck tonight and tomorrow.” Your boss explained to you.  

You had no choice, you had to go in this is what you signed up for. Well not this exactly, but you knew that becoming a nurse meant you were going to have some really tough days and nights.

“Yes, of course I’ll be there for shift change at seven tonight” You said in mid-stretch and getting ready to hop out of bed since it was just pass three thirty in the afternoon.  

“Ugh thank you so much Y/N see you later hun.” Your boss said quickly and hung up

You walked out of the bedroom and headed towards the living room and kitchen area. You might as well start planning on cooking a big meal since you don’t know when the next time you will be able to eat a proper meal next. You saw Nolan sitting on the couch with his gaming headset on, trying his best not to yell into the mic at the person on the other end which was most likely Travis and maybe Carter.

“Dude Trav what the fuck are you doing? You just shot me I am on your team you stupid idiot, such a dumbass, god you are so fucking bad at Call of Duty.” Nolan said into his headset.  

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself and shake your head at the site of Nolan. You walked over and leaned over the back of the couch to run your hand through Nolan’s hair and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen.  

“Hey guys, I gotta go.” Nolan said as quickly as he could before shutting down the game and throwing his headset onto the coffee table.

You’d just finished getting out some pots and pans to start preparing a meal of spaghetti and meatballs when a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped themselves around your torso and a nose nuzzled into your neck.  

“Done your game already.” You said giggling.  

“Why were you in the spare bedroom?” Nolan questioned, as he spun you around so he could properly kiss you.

“I slept in the guest room because you took up the whole bed and you looked so damn cute and peaceful that I didn’t want to disrupt that. It's been so hard for me to even get a good night’s and in this case a good day’s worth of sleep lately so when I was done showering and found you sprawled out, you looked so peaceful. That I didn’t have the heart to ruin your beauty sleep in case I couldn’t fall asleep.”

I appreciate that babe…but I missed you.” Nolan breathed. “Was worried that something happened to you or that something had happened at the hospital.”

“Nah…never.” You insisted. “Not when I have you here to come home to after a long exhausting shift at work.”  

With Nolan’s arms bringing you closer to him and him resting his head over your shoulder you sighed softly.

“Baby, what’s wrong and why are you cooking now? I thought that we were just going to snuggle and relax tonight and order some take out.” Nolan said as he played with your hair

“Plans changed...” You said barely above a whisper

“Y/n? What’s going on?” Nolan asked while stepping next to you so he can get a good read at the expression on your face. He knows how exhausted, worn out and beat up you have been lately. Seeing all of scars on your face every time you walk through that door reminds him how serious this virus actually is, it reminds him how scared he is that you are on the front lines during this time and how he doesn’t exactly know what you are battling every day, hour and minute.

“My boss called...hundreds of more cases came flooding in after I left the hospital, we need all hands-on deck. So, I have to head back down to the hospital later for another overnight shift.” You spoke softly as you pour the pasta into the boiling water and went to the freezer to grab the bag of meatballs.

“Y/n...no you were supposed to have the rest of the evening off, you weren’t supposed to go back into work until tomorrow morning. We were finally supposed have a relaxing night together, I feel like I don’t get to see you anymore.” Nolan said grabbing your hand squeezing it tight afraid that he might never get another relaxing night with you again.

“Patty, trust me I more than anyone in this world want that. I just want to crawl onto the couch and in your lap and just wish this horrible nightmare of a virus away, but it’s not like that. It’s getting worse by the hour and minute it seems like now and I just can’t say no. I just can not just not show up when there are higher doctors and nurses out there who never really get chance to go home and see their families and loved ones.” You said squeezing his hand back and kissing his soft lips to reassure him how much you love him.

“Here why don’t I finish dinner and we can sit outside on the balcony and enjoy some fresh air…” Nolan said picking up the ladle. “Then we can have a little cuddle session before you have to leave for the night.”

“‘Deal.” You said in agreement, while quickly rising up onto your tippy toes to plant a kiss onto Nolan’s lips before grabbing the place settings for outside. Being a med student wasn’t easy, but it was certainly easier with Nolan by your side the whole entire time. Now being a freshly new nurse isn’t easy either especially during this pandemic time, but again it was certainly a lot easier with Nolan by your side.

Nolan brought out dinner and you two just shared the moment that you were in. Eating a great dinner together while enjoying each other’s company and looking off into the cities sun. Every now and then you would glance over and give Nolan an adorable look and smile. He would try to give you the same reassuring glance back, but you knew there was something off with him. His eyes didn’t have that sparkle or shine to them like they normally do and it worried you.

After dinner, you joined Nolan in the lounge chair that he was sitting on and crawled in between his legs so your back was snuggled up to his chest and he could tightly wrap his arms around you.

“I can’t wait for this new normal to be over. I can’t wait to actually get my diploma and hopefully have an actual ceremony or at least party to celebrate my hard work with our friends and family. I can’t wait to see what an actual regular day of work is going to look like, a day where I don’t have to wear protective gear 24/7 and have to social distance myself from everything and everyone that I love.”

“Can’t wait for that too...” Nolan said barely above a whisper

Nolan’s voice alarmed you, you spun around so you were facing him. You looked up at Nolan and could see a sea of tears forming in eyes and a few slightly falling down his face.

“Nolan, baby are you okay, baby what’s wrong you’re worrying me.” You said grabbing onto his shoulder and running your hand through his hair.

“No..I’m not okay y/n... I’m scared...I’m scared as hell.” He said mumbling  

“Scared about what Nols? Baby please talk to me; you’re really worrying me here. I have never seen you like this.” You said wiping a tear away from his face

“I’m scared to death of losing you Y/N. Ever since this virus has gotten more and more out of control it has frightened me more each and every single day. Every time you walk out of our door it kills me not knowing if that will ever be the last time that I get to see your face, hold you and kiss you. I’m so damn afraid that one of these days you aren’t going to be walking through those doors again and right into my arms. I can’t imagine my life without you Y/N, I’m so incredibly proud of you don’t get me wrong you’re a fucking super hero in my eyes but you’re also my girlfriend who I’m madly in love with who one day I hope to make my wife and the mother of my children. It’s like I need that reassurance to know that every time you leave to fight this virus that you’ll be able to come home back to me. It's why I have arguments with my mother on daily occasions about why I decided to stay here instead of flying back home because of the season being postponed. It’s because in reality I could never live with myself if I did that and god forbid something happened to you and I wasn’t here and I couldn’t get to you! It’s why I leave you little notes with a rose in the bathroom so when you come home you know that I was thinking about you the whole entire time you were on the front lines at work. As much as you hate not being able to sleep properly lately, I kind of love it because I can be there to protect and comfort you through it all y/n. I feel better when I have you tightly in my arms, I feel better when I’m able to look at you from a far, I feel better when I can play with your hair and kiss your lips. Over all I’m a better person when I am with you, if you don’t believe ask Travis and Carter, they have heard it all.” Nolan said full on breaking down at this point

You have never seen Nolan this vulnerable before, in all the years that you have been dating. It killed you to see this side of him, you never realized how much this was also affecting him until now.

You grabbed his face with both of your hands and kissed him like you have never kissed him before. You pulled away and leaned your forehead against his and wiped away a few more tears. “Nolan Patrick, I promise you I will always come back home to you.” You said looking straight into those gorgeous eyes that you love so much.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was 7:05 in the morning, you were hoping to run into your boss so she can give you the all clear to head home. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen until a few hours and a break down alone in the hall way later. Your one coworker made sure to give Nolan an update every so often to let him know and that you were alright even though you weren’t. But she didn’t want to worry him anymore than he already was, plus she did it since you were too busy running around and forgot to leave your phone on the charging station to charge.

One O’clock...One O’clock in the afternoon that is the time that the clock read when you were able to finally clock out for the day. An eighteen-hour shift was way more than enough that you could ever possibly handle. You looked into the mirror and could barely recognize the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t you, this woman had dark bruised circles and lines around and under her eyes. This woman had broken and cracked lines on her cheek bones, where her mask had laid and dug into her. The only good thing that is coming out from these past horrific days is that your boss was giving you the next few days off to rest and compose yourself.

You drove yourself home and the moment you parked your car in the garage exhaustion took a new total on you. You didn’t member the elevator ride up to your floor, you didn’t remember walking down the hall to your apartment door and noticing all of the lovely and cute little notes that the children on your floor made for you and hung on the front door for you to see every day. You didn’t remember walking in and taking off your shoes and heading straight to the bathroom to take your routine hot shower. The only thing that brought you back to normal thought and time was the strong arms of Nolan wrapping you up tight into his arms while leaning next you on the cool bathroom floor.

“Shh, let it all out baby. It’s okay y/n I’m here..I’m here. Just please talk to me.” Nolan said while kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulder

“In the eighteen hours that I have worked I have seen way too many deaths than I ever wanted to see in my life Nolan. People are dying alone..because their loved ones aren’t allowed to come in contact with them. Its people of all ages young and old. Some I stood by their side because it broke my heart that they were dying alone. I broke down in a hallway at work, because I don’t understand how we are going to continue to fight this. You aren’t the only one who is completely scared to death, I am too. I am scared just as much as you are about not being able to return home and being able to crash into your arms. Nurses are already starting to get tested for the virus in different departments and floors and I’m so worried that soon we will have to be tested. I’m trying not to think of the worse, but what if I get tested and I’m positive I can’t imagine never being able to see or talk to you again. You deserve so much better”  

Nolan brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, brushed the falling tears away from your cheek with his thumb and turned your face so you were looking right at him. “Don’t think like that baby, you are one strong woman. Each and every single day I find more and more reasons to fall in love with you. This pandemic made me realize to appreciate and love the little things in life more, to hold and adore your loved ones a lot closer. I can’t imagine what you and your staff are going through day in and day out but know that I will always be here waiting for you, so I can ease your mind and try my best to take it all away from you. If anyone deserves better it’s you y/n, I’m just a bonehead professional hockey player. But you, you are a talented young woman changing the world every single time you out walk of this apartment. Here come with me, I have something I want to show you and I think that it will make you feel a lot better.” Nolan said picking you up and carrying you into your guys bedroom and placing you onto the bed.  

Nolan took out his iPad and handed it over to you and started playing a video for you. It was a video that the entire Flyers team put together thanking you for everything that you are doing during this crazy and difficult time. Even Gritty made a special appearance for you in the video which told made you light up and giggle. They even went on and talked about how such an amazing person you are and how much you mean to not only Nolan but to them as well. They were so grateful and thankful for you and it warmed your heart so much to hear them say it. The video ended with Nolan obviously getting emotional about much he is so proud of you and how he can’t believe that you were willing to get your degree early and risk your entire life just to save others without any hesitation.

Once the video ended you looked at Nolan and thanked him, this is what you needed to help you get through these times.

“I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us, if we can get through this together than we sure can get through anything in life together.” You said leaning in and closing the gap between you with a kiss

“As long as I have you in my arms, I don’t care where life take us. I realized that as long as you’re in my life that I have officially won no what matter. You’re my absolute everything y/n and I wouldn’t change it in a heartbeat.” Nolan said cupping your cheek and kissing you passionately  

Nolan was right, as long as you had each other you knew you were always going to be safe and have strong arms to come decompose home too.  

[haberdashing]

No Puppet Strings Can Hold Me Down (17/17)

The Magnus Archives fanfic. An AU that diverges from canon between episodes 159 and 160, in which Peter Lukas’ statement that “he got you” takes on a different meaning.

on AO3

Jon hadn’t seen it coming.

In hindsight, it made sense that he wouldn’t have--if there had been any warning, any way of him knowing what was about to happen, then Jonah would have known of it as well, and the plan would thus have been ruined before it could even begin.

That didn’t make it any easier, though, when Jon woke up in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in his left eye.

It was difficult to see in the dark, and not just because, as Jon quickly realized, his field of vision wasn’t quite what it normally was, his sight on his left side now entirely gone. It took a few seconds for the darkness and silhouettes to coalesce into a clearer image, but once it did, Jon could feel his heart racing.

Martin was standing over him with a knife, a knife that was dripping blood onto the couch below.

The pieces fit together in Jon’s mind quickly enough after that.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the same was true for Jonah as Jon’s body began to move of its own accord, throwing off the blankets that had been on top of him and reaching up for Martin, trying to wrestle the knife away from him.

(Jon was glad, now, that he had was now in such poor physical shape. It would help Martin’s odds in the fight, after all.)

His nails scratched against flesh, his elbows jabbed and blocked Martin’s moves, the sting of his eye was matched by aches across his body, and Jon could do nothing but watch the fight unfold...

Wait.

That wasn’t entirely true, was it? Jon knew one thing he could do, at least, something that had incapacitated Jonah once before...

Jon had spent so long keeping the door in his mind shut, doing everything he could to prevent the Eye from seeping through.

It was all too easy to let it open wide.

(If Martin achieved his goal with the other eye, Jon figured he’d be freed soon enough, and his giving in to the Eye would become a non-issue. If Martin didn’t... well, Jon hadn’t been able to do much anyway, so how much would really be lost in the end?)

The information poured into Jon’s mind, a tidal wave of knowledge that overwhelmed his mind and his senses.

It has been eleven days since Georgie Barker last ate Hungarian food. Less than fifty people have contracted full-blown rabies and lived to tell the tale. The true identity of Dan Cooper, popularly but incorrectly known as D.B. Cooper, was a member of the Fairchild family. Michael Malloy had multiple murder attempts on his life fail in part because his heavy drinking prevented damage from methanol and ethylene glycol poisoning.

Jon felt a stabbing pain in his arm, looked to see that both Martin’s hands and his own were on the knife, struggling to gain control over its trajectory.

This is the fifth time that this couch has been stained by liquid damage and the third time that it has had blood on it. The bacteria that cause staph infections are commonly present on the skin, only causing infection upon entering the interior of the body. Mike Crew’s great-uncle, Jeremiah Crew, died in a flash flood. The singular form of the word data is datum.  

Jon could see the soft gleam of the metal as it approached his face.

Holding your breath before diving underwater can cause drowning by shallow water blackout. Manuela Dominguez is still trapped within Helen’s corridors. Clefairy, not Pikachu, was originally meant to be Pokemon’s mascot. Blind spots are caused by the lack of light-detecting cells in the area where the optic nerve passes through the optic disc. The Admiral is currently-

The rush of information suddenly stopped, and Jon’s senses rose up to fill the void of stimulation--all senses, that is, except for one. Jon’s vision was entirely gone now, leaving him with nothing but a field of darkness and burning pain where his eyes had been.

At least he could hear himself think now, even if it was difficult to keep up a coherent stream of thought when he was in such agony.

And, as Jon focused on his own breathing, which was fast and heavy now, he found that he could control it, slowly but surely calming his breathing down.

There was blood trickling down his face, but Jon didn’t dare try to wipe it away for fear of touching his fresh wounds and making the pain that much worse.

“...Martin?”

A rustle of movement behind him, a few footsteps, then: “Jon? Is that you?”

Jon let out a laugh, shaky and hysterical, not caring that it made his chest ache. “Yes, it’s me. You- you did it.”

Martin hesitated for a moment. “...can you prove it?”

“...probably not.” Another shaky laugh, not quite as boisterous as the first. “I didn’t- we’ve barely talked since I- since the Unknowing, and so much has changed since then. I don’t know if I was human before it, but now... well, now I might be human again, I suppose, but I’m not sure if that helps either. You haven’t known me when I was- was fully human, after all, have you, you’ve only ever known me as the Archivist, and now... now I’m not sure what I am, really...”

“Yeah, alright, good enough. Now just sit still, Jon, I’ve got some towels to help with the bleeding-”

“Wh- that didn’t prove anything! That was the whole point!”

“Nobody can pull off an existential crisis quite like you can, Jon. Especially not Jonah Magnus.” Jon could feel the warm air as Martin let out a soft snort. “Now just- here, does that help?”

Soft fabric was pressed against his face, and pressure pushing it down, pressure that made the pain go from bad to worse at first before it died down.

“It does, yes. Thank you, Martin.”

“Least I could do.” Another huff of warm air. “Seriously, when I- I’m the one who-”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I’m so sorry, Jon. I didn’t want to hurt you, especially since you couldn’t do anything about it, but it- it seemed like the only way out-”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Jon started to shake his head, stopped with a wince when it made the pain flare up again.

“I said stay still.”

“I get that now...” Jon sighed softly. “But I- I did tell you it was okay, before, when I could. Whatever the price for taking down Jonah Magnus, I knew it’d be worth it. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still, I...” A pause. “...you can’t see my gesturing, can you?”

“Not even slightly. Which is, I believe, rather the point?”

“Right, yeah. I have some supplies, but we should- I know hospitals are probably a no-go at the moment, but you need medical help, and I know this woman in the village who’s a nurse, she can help you better than I can.”

Jon suddenly knew, then--lower-case knew, but with no less certainty--that Martin had befriended the village’s nurse with a scenario like this one, or perhaps even worse ones, in mind. He’d planned ahead, made sure he wouldn’t risk the worst happening, even after having to take drastic measures to free Jon from his imprisonment.

God, Jon loved him.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jon hesitated. “...I just hope the worst is over now.”

“I mean, isn’t it? It’s over now, it’s ended, right?”

“Even if we got rid of Jonah Magnus for good, which I’m not sure of-”

“His bloody eyes are on the ground, there’s not much more proof you can get than that-”

“There’s more out there. Daisy, the other hunters, the mess back at the Institute... not all of it can end here.”

“...maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the end. But you know what?” Martin squeezed Jon’s arm, gently, and Jon noticed that Martin’s hand was warmer than it had been for some time now. “It doesn’t have to be. We can turn it into a new beginning, the start of a better life than the one we had back in London.”

“Not a high bar, that one.”

“Agreed.” Martin let out a low whistle. “Can you stand up? I’d really rather not just carry you all the way to the car-”

“What, you don’t fancy a bridal carry? Carrying me over the threshold?” Jon’s voice was teasing, but he felt Martin sway slightly, and he wished he could see the look on Martin’s face.

“I mean, I can do it if I have to, I suppose, but-”

“No, no, let me at least try.” Jon moved one arm to keep his towels pressed against his eye sockets, brushing against Martin’s arm in the process, and used the other to push himself off of the couch. It was slow and shaky and probably not a pretty sight, but he got up and stayed up, and that was what mattered.

“Alright, now, the front door isn’t too far, just over there-”

“Still can’t see your gesturing.”

“Right. Of course. It’s, it’s on your right, after you cross the room--do you think you can make it to the car alright?”

Despite the pain that still plagued him, Jon broke out into a wide smile. “Only if you lead the way.”

Martin took Jon’s hand, and side by side, the two made their way forward.

[winter-barnes]

Christmas Surprise

Summary: It's Christmas day, and Y/N doesn't get a gift from the person she wants one from the most.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I'm vacationing in Hawaii right now and I got bored sitting in my hotel room waiting for my dad to get off of work, so I thought why not write an imagine hahaha. Feedback is appreciated, and I apologize for any spelling/grammatical/characterization mistakes! :)

It's the holiday season, a time filled with laughter, cheers, family, friends, and-

"Presents!" Natasha yells, immediately sitting up straight. "We forgot to get presents for everyone!" 

You, Nat, and Wanda were sitting in your room gossiping about the drama in the compound. At least twice a week they come in your room unannounced and spark up conversation. You didn't mind though, it was nice having girl friends to talk with. It made life just a little bit easier.

"Well it looks like our weekly gossip session is going to have to come to a close for now, we need to go find presents. Christmas is, like, four days away and everyone has already done their shopping." You say. Wanda and Nat nod, and next thing you know you're in the car on your way to the mall with Wanda and Nat.

The next few hours are spent trying to find at least one present that would suit each of the Avengers. Almost everyone was gonna be at the compound this year to celebrate: Nat, Wanda, Tony, Peter, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Scott, Rhodey, Vision, and T'Challa. That's a lot of people to find presents for, and you honestly didn't know if you would be able to pull it off so close to Christmas. 

It took a lot of searching, but eventually you were able to find a present for everyone except for Steve. 

"Guys, I can't think of anything to get Steve." You whined.

"I can think of something." She smirks and Wanda laughs. You roll your eyes as a slight blush floods your cheeks. 

"I need real suggestions guys."

"What's not real about that?" Wanda giggles. "I'm sure he would greatly appreciate it, too." This time Nat's the one laughing. Both Nat and Wanda know about your pretty big crush on Steve. You couldn't help yourself, and really who could? It's Steve Rogers. There's no such thing as self control when it comes to that man.

"You guys know I don't want to tell him." You sigh, "We're friends, I don't want to ruin that with a silly little crush." With that you turn around, and you're glad you did. You spot the perfect present to get Steve. 

You walk over to the glass case and get a closer look. It's a gold pocket watch. On the inside of it is a star engraved into the gold. It was perfect. Steve has been talking about wanting a pocket watch for ages now, and you were kind of surprised you didn't think about getting him one as his present sooner. 

------

After the stressful day of late gift shopping, you head to your room to wrap all of the gifts. As you're wrapping Steve's gift, you think back to the conversation earlier. You really didn't want to tell Steve about your feelings for him. There was always the possibility of him not feeling the same way, and if that was the case then seeing him all the time would be awkward. You didn't want to ruin one of the best friendships you've had, even if that meant suppressing your feelings.

------

A few days later, you wake up to Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree being blasted throughout the compound. You sigh and roll over to look out the window. The sun has barely even fully come up, but you can't say you're surprised being woken up this early, it's Christmas day. You roll out of bed and try to make yourself somewhat decent, and your decent is some leggings, a t-shirt, and your hair pulled back into a ponytail.

You walk into the living room and see all the presents stacked under the enormous tree that Tony was so insistent on putting up. Tony, Bucky, Nat, and Scott are already sat around the tree waiting for everyone. By now a new song is playing through F.R.I.D.A.Y, Jingle Bell Rock. 

"I love this song!" Scott yells as he jumps up and starts dancing. You laugh and shove him so that he lands on the couch behind him. Feeling thirsty, you walk into the kitchen to pour a glass of orange juice. You find Bucky already in there, his head stuffed in the fridge. 

"Find what you're lookin' for there, Buddy?" You chuckle. Surprised, Bucky's head hits one of the shelves as he tries to pull it out. His face is tinted red as you laugh at his clumsiness. 

"Oh, Buck." You laugh. You squeeze passed him and grab the orange juice you came for. You look over at Bucky and he's just watching you, giving you a weird look. "You okay, Bucky? Did you hit your head too hard?" He shakes his head and gives you one last glimpse before walking away. You found it kind of strange, usually Bucky has some sort of smart remark to come back at you with, but he didn't say anything this time around. 

Glass of orange juice in hand, you walk back into the living room. Now everyone is here, and Tony's face is practically dripping excitement now that you've come back.

"Finally we can open the presents now!" He says as he rubs his hands together.

"You know, Stark, Christmas isn't just about presents, it's about -"

"Yeah yeah yeah family and friends yadda yadda yadda. Who's present am I opening first?" He cuts you off and all you can do is chuckle. You look around and see the only open seat is the one next to Steve. You glance over at Nat to see her smirking and you roll your eyes. Of course it was intentional. You make your way to the open seat and sit next to Steve. He looks at you and offers a small smile, but he looks nervous. 

"Want a drink?" You ask, offering a sip of your orange juice. He shakes his head and turns to watch Tony open his present from Rhodey. 

After about 45 minutes, over half of the presents have been opened. Steve has your present to him in hand, and he's getting ready to open it. 

"I hope you like it." You whisper. He opens his mouth to say something, but he quickly closes it and smiles. Something is off, but you're unsure what. Bucky and Steve are both acting really strange. Actually, it's not just them. This whole morning the others have been giving you quick looks, and when you notice them they immediately look away. Obviously something is up, but you have no clue what. 

You push the thoughts away and watch as Steve tears the reindeer printed wrapping paper. He opens the box that holds the watch, and when he opens it his eyes go wide. He looks at you, then the watch. You, the watch, you, the watch. You smile and he pulls it out. 

"Oh my- I love it, Y/N. I absolutely love it." You feel giddy knowing he really likes your gift. "Thank you so much."

"Anything for you." You smile, then blush. 

Soon all of the gifts are opened and the floor is covered in wrapping paper and boxes. You begin to clean up while everyone else heads to the table to have breakfast. As you're cleaning, you realize you never got a gift from Steve. Your heart sinks a little bit. Gifts aren't everything, and you aren't a very material person, but your gift to him was pretty special. Did he not feel the need to get you anything at all? Not even a keychain?

You throw away the last bit of wrapping paper and head to your room. You didn't feel like eating. It wasn't the fact that you didn't get a present from Steve that made you upset, it was the fact that this was proof he didn't feel anything other than friendship towards you. You closed the door to your room and sat on your bed. Your eyes began to water. For some reason, you had this glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he might have the same feelings for you as you do him. Sometimes you would catch him looking at you, and when you caught him his face would turn pink. Sometimes when you walked into the room you would notice his eyes go wide and his smile grow wider. Sometimes you would notice him getting flustered when you two were alone. But maybe you didn't actually notice these things. Maybe you just wanted them to be real and made yourself think they were really happening.

Twenty minutes pass and you hear walking outside of your door. You quiet your sniffling so that no one can hear, and then you hear the sound of something sliding underneath the door. You peer over the bed and see an envelope on the floor, and you hear the footsteps walk away. You stand up and grab the envelope. Your name is written on it, but it doesn't say who it's from. When you open it, it's just a piece of paper, but it says to go to the roof at six. Confused, you set the paper on your dresser.

Quicker than you expected, five thirty rolls around. You decide to put on a pair of jeans and a new t-shirt for this rooftop meeting. You're nervous about what this could be about. Nothing like this has ever happened, you don't have any idea what to expect. 

You walk into the living room and there's no one to be seen. 

"What the hell is going on?" You mumble to yourself. You make your way to the elevator and press the rooftop button. Your nerves quickly build up as you approach the roof. The elevator dings and the doors open. At first you don't notice anything, but you look down and see writing in chalk. It's a date, November 14th, 2018, and beside the date says, "The first day we met. I couldn't take my eyes off of you." There's rose petals lying on the ground, and little candles lighting a path that goes straight. The dates continue like a timeline. Your heart begins to pound, your hands start to sweat. This isn't what you think it is, is it?

"December 5th, 2018 - You beat me in a fight, and this made me intrigued by you."

"December 29th, 2018 - Neither of us could sleep, so we made pancakes at 2 a.m. and watched Christmas movies. It was this night that I realized how I really felt about you."

"January 11th, 2019 - You got a little too drunk and I carried you home. You were completely rocked, but you still blew me away with your beauty. Even if you were throwing up all over my car." 

"April 20th, 2019 - You took me to my first concert. Of course Bucky and Sam were there, but all I could focus on was you."

"July 17th, 2019 - I saw you go on a date with a man, my heart was broken."

"July 18th, 2019 - You stayed the night with me after getting your heart broken by that man. Little did you know we both we suffering." 

"September 20th, 2019 - I decided I was going to tell you how I felt, but I didn't know how."

"December 25th, 2019 -                            "

Next thing you know, Steve is in front of you holding a piece of chalk. Next to today's date he writes,

"I finally built up the courage to ask you on a date."

You watch him as he stands back up. He looks perfect in the moonlight, his cheeks lightly tinted pink and his eyes sparkling. 

"So, what do you say? Will you go-" You place your lips on his, cutting him off. His arms instantly wrap around your waist while yours wrap around his neck. You both pull away only when you have to breathe, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 

"I'm so happy you did that."

"I'm so happy you did this." You give him one last kiss before you pull away. 

"I would love nothing more than to go on a date with you, Rogers."

[fenheart87]

Healing the Magic

For @bloody-no-kissu happy belated birthday!

-start-

“Well hello there, sniffer’s no good upwind.” Luka kept his relaxed posture, no need to scare the young woman, especially when he had no way of knowing what she was capable of. "Rest easy lass, just a wee break for the legs before finishing my journey. Beautiful women are welcome to the river beside me, I don't bite."

Marinette snorted and moved closer, much more at ease with the werewolf as he was coherent. Carefully she scooped some water from the flow of the river with a chipped bowl and carefully filled her canteen. Silently she thanked the river spirits that this one was untainted by the illness that was flooding the capital. Once her canteen was full, she filled a few vials and other potion bottles. She would need moon water but that was harder to come by, unless…

"Pray tell furry friend," she smiled at the eye roll and continued, "if I were to say leave a basin to be touched by Sister Moon would you place a watchful eye and help me to gather pure water from a full and a new moon?"

"Moon water aye?" Blue eyes narrowed in consideration and a healthy dose of wariness. "And what would a young lass such as yourself need any type of moon water for?"

"I come from the Agreste ranch, rescued as a healer for the ailing late Madame Emilie Agreste. Since her passing and resting of her soul, I have been helping to use my skills for those in the nearby town, most wounds heal best under a full moon. Other times I must raise defense for myself against those who wish to harm a skilled healer such as myself. I understand if you cannot help." Marinette simply returned to drinking fresh water from the river and making sure she had collected enough for her next round of potions.

"Lilly wheat grows yonder the hill to the west, right along the tree line. It can be tricking to navigate, I swear to watch yer things should you need to gather it."

Surprise covered her features, it was exactly what she was looking for and made her rethink this werewolf and wonder, how did he recognize the potion? "Many thanks, should you need flea repellent, there is thistle burn about two miles east of here."

"Ah the smell would be unmistakable." Nodding his shaggy head in thanks and reclined on the other bank, he seemed to be done with conversation.

"I'll take you up on your kind offer stranger, I'll be swift." Marinette heard the snort but paid it no mind as she gathered her dagger, amulet and her bag for the herbs she had collected. Swapping the jars of water for a few empty ones, she made her way to the west. Humming some disguised spells, Marinette committed the path to memory and found a few alternate routes for future trips. Sure enough she spotted lilly wheat from its lavender and pale blue coloring, it was a hybrid lookalike of wheat and blue bell flowers. Gathering as much as she could to fill the jars to the max and even stuffed her apron pockets to the brim. Making her way back, she heard a few twigs snap and the trees across the river had a slight sway, signalling the werewolf just left.

"Thank you kind wolf!" Upon reaching the middle of the clearing, she noticed both collection jars were missing. Smiling, she made a note to return in a month's time.

________________________________________

The walk helped clear her senses, too much magic and illness in the capitol had clouded Marinette's magical innate ability to sense other beings. Nature was usually at a neutral point unless tainted by those who lived in the area. Out here so far away from anything or even the manor of vampires she cohabitated with was still pure and loved to trade her negative things with a positive rush of natural magic. It was quite a boost and usually she stored it in her crystals, sometimes bringing them with her to recharge if she was able to stay for a long period.

The tree line broke and the sounds of the river filled her ears and the birds sounded louder than before. Marinette basked in the cheer floating in the air and made her way to the natural alter that she frequently used as her desk. Noticing a note hidden under a rock with a gem tied to it. Carefully she pulled the letter free, not wanting to touch the gem in case it was rigged with a spell.

'Hello Witchling,

I trust your fortnight has been fruitful and as you asked, I was indeed able to get both water from the new moon and the full moon. Untouched completely by every element but the collected water and the air itself. The gem is a family heirloom, there is a hidden cave and it shall lead you to it with just a drop of water from the river.

The Big Friendly Wolf'

Giggling to herself, she did as the note bade and with a touch of cursory magic, determined it was harmless. Dipping a finger in the river for a drop of water, Marinette followed the glowing red light to the cave where her collection jars waited for her, completely untouched. Taking care, she poured the water into the marked pots and carefully sealed them for transportation. This would be plenty for what she needed and Marinette made a note to make something for the helpful Were. Leaving the crystal with the note in the cave, she set off to gather the few missing herbs left. It took only a few minutes of scouting when her senses sparked in alarm, there was another magical signature drawing closer and it was unfamiliar. Deciding the risk was worth it, Marinette touched her amulet and teleported back into the agreste stronghold. 

Dizziness filled her vision for a moment and she steadied herself with a few deep breaths. Looking around her room, she noticed nothing out of order and apart from the usual lingering traces of her magic and of Adrien's, everything was still. Grabbing a couple cookies to help her nausea, Marinette teleported back out of the castle and to the nearby wood. It would make it seem as if she skipped over the mountain and river instead of jumping right through every defense that Gabriel had set. Normally the elder vampire had no qualms with her use of magic but he disapproved of it greatly and even forbade Marinette to teach his son. The magic had chosen the young heir and there was not a thing she could do to stop it but that was a long time before they needed to discuss anything if her luck had anything to do with it, she dearly hoped she would be released from their service before then.

The guard, a quiet man whom Adrien called Gorilla, nodded in greeting and let her pass unharmed. Not many could come and go as they pleased, it was a hard earned honor to be rarely granted. Resuming her humming, her magic reached out and brushed against Adrien's, giving her a clear path to follow. Turning left instead of her normal right, the torches illuminated her way. The only thing King Gabriel requested to be enchanted at all times and now only let Marinette or Felix boost them when the stored magic was running low.

"Oh posh, you know as well as I do your father is hardly that." A foreign voice could be heard as she approached the heir's chambers. 

"I'm not having this argument again, either you can shut up or I'll have your tongue." Adrien rarely snapped and it caused the witch's curiosity to peak even more. The moment of silence was her best bet, knocking in a familiar pattern and humming a containment spell, Marinette opened the door and slipped inside quickly.

"Oi! You never told me Tikki was here!" The blurry black form was hissing and thrashing in anger, the spell working like a charm.

"Oh you must be Plagg! I thought Mullo said you were a cute cat with a bad attitude?" Marinette wondered aloud, smiling in greeting to the frozen vampire.

"Mullo?! Wait wait wait! You're Marinette!"

Plagg settles into his hybrid form, acid green eyes and fluffy black ears being the first clear features to show. He stepped out of the transformation smoke and his body clad in black robes became solid, a slender tail flicking in excitement behind him.

"Oh no, you talk about me?!" Marinette shrieked in alarm, dropping the bag she had forgotten.

"Hold on, what in the Hell's Fires is going on here?" Adrien cut in, looking at the Demigod and his healer in anger and confusion.

"Oh Adrien, you know my true talents are not in healing so I know the Demigods when I see them. I've always known you're magic kissed like your mother." She smiled guiltily as the shock filled his face.

"Of course we talk about you, there's only one of you even century if we're lucky. A Destined is something to be proud of and you are definitely a very special one too. I'd love to see what kind of chaos we could create." His smile was full of fangs and a mischievous gleam shone from his eyes.

"Maybe one day, especially since I was forbade from teaching any magic and now you're contracted to Adrien." Marinette surmised, it was the only explanation as to why the demigod would actually be there in person.

"Father will never learn to trust me will he?" The blonde sighed deeply, defeat easy to read in his hunched form. 

"He fears the illness that took your mother will take you as well…" Marinette hesitated, looking to Plagg for permission to disclose the truth; a move that Adrien noticed and pounced on.

"What are you hiding from me?" He rose from the chair, brow furrowed in anger and stalked towards the shorter woman.

"I cannot say, the King has his ways of forbidding even the most noble of truths." She turned her gaze to the floor in preservation, a vampire's thrall wasn't effective enough to hold her for long but it did cause severe damage.

"He marked you." They had nearly forgotten the demigod was in the same room. "That bastard! Touching a Destined with Darkened Magic is forbidden!"

"I had no idea I was a Destined, my powers never came in until I became lost in the Forbidden Woods." Her voice was soft with sadness but still clearly heard. "This means he will have to be put to death doesn't it?"

The silence from the demigod was loud enough in its own right. King Gabriel would pay the price of meddling with the Darkened Magic, the blackest of black magic and required sacrifices of souls and thousands of blood rituals or even contracts with demons. The penalty was raised even more for using the Darkened Magic on a Destined and stunting Marinette’s growth and endangering her life, a Demigod had chosen her and had been denied the right to connect with her because of Gabriel's foolishness.

"You'll rise to your place in the throne then Prince Adrien." 

"You can't be serious, killing my father? For using magic on a witch?" Adrien cried, waving his arm carelessly.

"Boy, Magic Kissed you are but Chosen you are not! I will take you down with him should you choose to go against the wish of the Gods!" Plagg snarled, teeth glinting sharply in the candlelight. 

Adrien started at the show of anger and reacted with fangs bared and eyes darkening to red. The predator was unused to feeling truly like prey, even in front of his father and his fight or flight instinct was set to fight. Marinette hummed herself, layering a few protective spells over herself and Plagg, surprising the demigod enough to whip his head and stare at her in disbelief.

"You're Tikki's chosen…" Adrien calmed a bit and glowered at the two that had suddenly forgotten him.

"I wouldn't know." Marinette whispered, barely heard by either male.

"Look kid, either he dies and you step up to be the man they need you to be or you'll suffer at the end of my claws as well. You have until sundown to decide. Little witchling, I shall keep in touch. There will be three parting gifts in your room and with your smarts you'll put it all together." Plagg bowed slightly, a show of respect to Marientte which had her and Adrien shocked as the demigod disappeared.

"We need to act normal for the time being. I'll see you at dinner." Adrien spoke dismissively, an echo of Gabriel's attitude behind his words. Marinette was left with no choice but to retire to her room.

Her room was alive in the way only a witch could truly achieve, the flora was bursting with healthy green leaves and big bright beautiful blooms. The air carried a weight of the magic she often conjured within the four walls, positive and practice vibes floating playfully past one another to create a safe atmosphere. Little did anyone realize the room itself was enchanted and she could move the entire thing at will, it was difficult as it required a lot of magic but with the help of Moon Water, she could do it and hide away to regain her strength.

"Alright, time to get to work." Marinette opened her chest and humming a light airy tune, the shelves floated off the walls and slowly drifted into the chest, allowing her time to select certain ingredients. Taking a deep breath she changed her tune and her furniture began to shrink and floated into the chest as well. The young witch was about three quarters depleted of her magic, Marinette had suspicions that Gabriel had something to do with it.

"Okay, time to juice up. Just a little bit, nothing major. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all." She muttered under her breath, trying to shake off the sudden nerves. Tapping into the last of her power, Marinette focused on the new moon water and held the clear quartz above it, near breaking concentration as it began to float. Starting a soft hum, the water took a shiny quality and the crystal glowed in response. Very thin multicolored wisps of smoke drifted back and forth, showing a tangible power exchange between both stored magics. Once the water no longer shined and the smoke faded fully, she stopped humming.

"One more step and onto freedom…" Blue eyes took in the half packed state of her room, fingers already reaching for her Amethyst to charge with the Full Moon water. This was easier as there was only a little need for direction, the power was already there and no need to purify or mix with another essence. Gently she placed the crystal to float on top of the water and with a whisper of a chant, the process began.

Marinette moved around the room and tossed the shrunken furniture into the chest, convincing her plants to sleep for the trip and even getting some to shrink into seeds for packing purposes. Once everything was cleared and stored away, the young witch turned back to the crystal and pot, the process about halfway done. Steeling herself, Marinette grabbed a ring she rarely wore when staying inside the castle, strands of gold layered and twisted to form a beautiful rose. This was one of her more precious gifts, it also lent the ability to disguise everything tattletale from vampires.

"Now to make it through dinner… And hopefully out of here alive."

Dinner was a quiet affair, the tension could be felt by even the servants who were speedy about setting down the dishes and retreating as quickly as they could without triggering a chase from an angry vampire.

"I thought King Gabriel was to join us?" Marinette asked politely, forcing herself to enjoy the cooked lamb at a moderate pace.

"Father had some unexpected business to attend to." Adrien had finished sucking his peice dry and moved on to the goblet of blood wine.

"I hope nothing too strenuous."

"Father can handle anything."

Once she was finished, the table was cleared for dessert. The young witch knew this would be her moment as everyone else had left the room and if things were to go south, they would be spared from Adrien's wrath. Gathering courage, she rose from her seated position and bowed slightly.

"If you have a moment to spare, I would like to discuss something with you." 

"So be it, speak your piece." Adrien leaned back in the chair, his persona more and more like his father every day but never closer than in that moment.

"After the events I am resigning from my position as healer for the Agreste Coven."

"Marinette, there's no reason to have this discussion." He sighed heavily and rose from his seat, turning to leave.

"There's no reason for me to be here any longer Adrien. My original reason for employment has been null for a long time. I feel it's time to leave and further my skills, that cannot be done while in here. There's nothing for me to learn." As a human she knew this would trigger what was left of his humanity and kept her breathing even to avoid the blow up 

Adrien spun around suddenly, knocking off the dinnerware from the table. The plate was a near miss from cutting Marientte's bare feet but she stood her ground, after all no matter how nice Adrien was, there was still a predator in his heart. Green eyes blazed with anger and a low snarl ripped from his throat, it had no effect on her after so long of being in his service. "You dare mock me and then presume to leave me!? For the flea bitten mongrel at that?"

"I'd rather lay with that so-called mongrel and risk fleas than be with you a moment longer than I have to." Marinette calmly stated, pulling on her inner strength to not let her ring fail her and reveal how fast her pulse was truly racing.

"What is this really about Marinette? Did I not give you all the splendor and treasures you could want? I let you choose a trade and keep your money from it, supporting you and never asking for you to repay your debt with me. Have I ever hurt you?" Adrien spread his arms dramatically, appearing innocent except for the look of rage taking over his face.

"Adrien. Do not make this a big deal, Plagg is already watching you closely." Praying to the demigod himself that Adrien wouldn't be able to call her bluff. "I am not a prize to be won or fought over, I am most certainly not yours. You have never hurt me nor have I you, please do not change that."

"Then leave, when you get fleas do not come crying to me." Adrien spun and left the dining hall, anger leaking from him.

Marinette wasted no time, teleporting back to her room and casting a cloaking spell on the chest. The transfer was done and quickly she saved the water for both by sealing the collection pots temporarily. The crystals went onto the pouch at her waist, Marinette noticed that there was more than usual and smiled in relief.

"One of three found little witchling. Best hurry to get out of here before my kitten blows a gasket." Plagg commented lazily, floating above the opening of her door.

"Thank you for your watchful eyes Plagg." Dropping into a quick curtsey and drawing a quiet chuckle from the Demigod, the witch finished packing what little was left. Humming brightly, she gasped as the chest shrunk into a perfect sized bracelet. 

"The least I can do to help rectify the wrong that has been done towards you. Mayhaps you should find a mentor that has knowledge of God's and Divination."

"Consider it done! Master Fu told me if i ever needed anything to go see him at the Temple of Heroes." Marinette smiled brightly and with a wink, teleported into the clearing she favored. She miscalculated how drained she was on magic as something solid but somewhat squishy.

"Well lass, did not expect you to fall into my lap quite like this." The werewolf's deep timber caused a shiver to run up her spine.

"Not quite my intention but I do need help and a certain big friendly werewolf would be quite helpful against the big scary vampires."

"Well lassie, you're in luck. Just hang on." He shifted her to his back and she clung on for dear life with a huge smile on her face. Time to live for herself.