#(( and maybe a tapestry or can badge >< | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aikotos · 5 months

Text

💙 How to buy Japan-only Persona merch

(AKA how to not be scammed by Ebay resellers)

With P3RE around the corner there has been a boom of P3 merch and I often see people wondering how they can buy all the stuff releasing on Japan or getting scamed by western scalper prices, so I thought a merch guide would come in handy.

I will talk about:

Kinds of merch & their usual prices

Persona figures: Kinds & prices

Shops with international shipping

Japan-only shops

Proxies & how to use them

Different proxies

If you have any more info or I'm mistaken in something, feel free to add to this!

💙 Merch & their pricing

These are the most common merch types & their usual retail price (in yen).

Keep in mind that "character tax" is a thing and often merch for the most popular characters has insame price. It's up to you if you want to pay scalper prices or keep an eye to find a good deal.

Acrylic Stands [アクリルスタンド] - Image printed onto transparent plastic with a small base so you can display it on a surface. Price: Depends on size, 1200-1900k

Acrylic keycharms [アクリルチャーム] - Same as acryic stands but with a strap, usually a lobster or metal chain one. Price: ~700

Acrylic frames [アクリルフレーム] - Frames meant hold inside photocards or acrylic chamrs/stands, kind of a mini mini ita bag or shirne. Price: Around 1.5k, 3k if they come with accesories to be put inside. They're sold via lottery often.

Keycharms [チャーム] - Mini-figures with a strap meant to be hang from phones and such. Price: ~400, usually sold in gatchapon & blind boxes

Can badges [バッジ]: I think we all had these. Price: 500-800

Plushes [ぬいぐるみ] - Everyone knows what are these as well. Price: Depends on the size, 1.5-2k for small or keychains ones, over 4k for bigger ones.

Nuigurumi [マスコット] - Usually called just "Nui". They're mascot plushes, but in the case of Persona, they're the 10cm chibi pushes of characters, often with a strap so you can hang them from your purse and such. The character plushes from the 25th anniversary are Nuis. Price: 1.5-3k

Nui clothes [ぬいぐるみポンチョ - おきがえポンチョ] - Ponchos and onesies to dress up your Nuis. I don't know if they have a catch-all name, but the 2 I mentioned are the most popular lines. Price: ~400 for gachapon ones, ~1.2k for the ones sold normally.

Clearfile [クリアファイル] - An art print on a plastic sheet, often they're folders as well. Price: 300-700

Tapestry [タペストリー] - Art printed onto fabric to be hang from a wall. Due to their size they're often expensive to import. Price: I'm not sure, sorry 🙏 I don't think the Persona ones are too expensive, maybe around 3k.

Character/ CD drama [キャラクターCD - ドラマCD] - Audio stories, some of the P3 ones are canon btw! Price: 1-3k

Artbook [アートブック - 画集] - Collection of official art by one artist or series. Price: Depends on how many pages the book has, around 3-5k

Guide - In the case of Persona, they're guide for the games. Sometimes they explain lore and such too. Price: 2-4k

Fanbook [ファンブック] - Book often focused on the series' lore, fun facts, answering fans' questions and such rather than art. Sometimes they even share art made by fans for that fanbook. Price: 1-3k

Novel - Light novels,Persona 3 has a few ones. So far not a single ones has been officially translated. Price: 1-3k

Anthology - Collection of comics/novels made by fans (or mangakas, Sogabe has participated on P3 anthologies before!). Each artist draws/writes one chapter, and while they're not connected, they often share a theme. They're not official content per se, but are licensed by the IP's owners to be sold in stores. Price: Around 800

Doujinshi [同人誌] - Self-published works by independent artists. Most often when people say "[Series] doujin" they're refering to the comics made by said independent artist, sold in very small numbers (to avoid legal troubble) at events. If they're derivated from an IP, most often these comics are sold at production cost with barely (if any) any profit margin, again due to legal matters. Contrary to popular belief, there's actually lots of SFW doujin comics so you definetly should try checking some out!. Price: 200-500

There are tons of more merch (Pita Nui, Noseberi....) but these are the most common ones. I usually just type [ペルソナ3] ("Persona 3", change the number for others) and browse everything there unless I'm looking for something non-persona related like Nui clothes.

💙 Persona figures

Figures need their own section since they're a trickier subject.

There are different kinds of figures, and their price changes depending on it. The main types are:

🌟 Scale: Pre-painted high quality figures, their name comes from the fact that most of the time the figures as sized in relation to the character's actual height (for example a 1/7 scale figure of Yukari would be 22-23cm tall, 1/7 of her height). Due to the materials and all the work they require, their price is expensive, usually 12-30k yen. I recomend buying them with their box unless the figure has very a static pose, due to the small details they can break during shipping.

🌟 Garage Kits: Figures modelled and casted by independent artists and sold in very limited numbers at events via 1-day licenses (unless it's a GK of an OC, then some artists sell their kits online). These figures come unpainted and unassembled, you have to finish them yourself. Since they aren't official,the artist has some freedoom so you can find some funny ones (like catgirl Aigis) Their price can vary, current ones cost as much or more than scales, but older kits can be found for very cheap (1-3k yen) specially if the character or artist is unknown. Remember you're paying the hours and hours a single artist put onto the figure, each piece had to be modelled and casted manually and resin is expensive, that's why the price is high despite being unpainted.

🌟 Prize & Noodle Stoppers: Pre-painted mss-producced figures made to be won via crane games and merch lottery, hence the name. Their quality and QC is way lower than scales, but you can still find some cute ones & their quality has improved lots in the recent years. Their price is low, around 2-3k yen. Anything more than $40 is a scam, don't pay re-sellers that price. Usually, you will find prize figures for $15-20, that's a fair price. Since they're made for crane games, they're very sturdy so you can take the plunge and buy them boxless for an even cheaper price ($5-10), they will arrive safely most of the time.

🌟 Semi-prize: Lately companies have been jumping onto the "premium prize figure" trend. While not reaching the scale quality by a huge margin, they often have better casting and paint job than prize figures. Some semi-prize lines are "Pop Up Parade" (quality varies between figures), "Tenitol" and "Artist MasterPiece+" Their price is low/medium, around 3-5k yen. Still, just like prize figures, I recomend looking them for around $15-25, they're not worth more than $45.

🌟 Action: Pre-painted figures made to be posed and played with. Nendoroids and Figmas fall in this category. They're usually around 10-12cm tall, but there are some as big as 30cm. Their retail price is around 5-12k yen depending on the brand. Action figures in scale or with actual clothing can fall in the 17-20k yen range I personally wouldn't pay more than $60 for ones like Nendos and Figmas due to their size, but it's up to you.

"But how can I differenciate between all of these?"

If while looking for merch you see a figure but are unsure if the price is fair, go to the website "My Figure Collection" & write the name of the series/character on the seach bar (I think MFC uses Surname - Name as the entry name) and click on the resut.

Click on the number there to see all the figures from said series/character. Now simply look for the figure you're interested in and check its table to see important info about it.

If you scroll down, you can also see user coments & photos, which can give you an idea of how much people sell the figure for (not always a fair price tbh) and how the figure looks like irl

💙 Where to buy: international shops

You will use most of these sites to buy new merch and preoders. I don't recoment places like Ebay since they often inflate the price of everything and even sell bootlegs (though you can sometimes find good deals there)

CD Japan: Great selection and prices, customer service is wonderful as well. If you live in EU, you can pay your purchase's VAT thru them to avoid handling fees.

Ami ami: Has lots of stuff, but some can only be shipped to US and a few eastern countries due to licensing issues. Has a great 2nd hand selection, but mostly for figures.

Hobby Search: I haven't used this one myself, but they're legit as far I know.

Hobby Genki: Mostly for figures. They let you undervalue your invoice (useful for EU VAT)

Solaris Japan: For figures, they have a second-hand section as well (some are good deals, some are not). They let you undervalue.

Mandarake: 2nd hand Japanese stores under the same wing. The prices are great, but depending on the store, shipping can be pricey (mostly for figures). It can be tricky to oder more than 1 thing as well.

Suruga-ya EN: 2nd hand Japanese store. The international website has less stuff than the JP one and their search system is weird ("Persona 3" and "Persona Persona 3" are different tags??) but you can't beat their prices. Lately they have been running lots of free shipping campaigns, keep an eye on that.

💙 Where to buy: Japanese shops

These are the shops where you can find good deals and any kind of merch. While in the international shops (except Mandarake and Suruga-ya) are only able to offer merch producced by Atlus, these can sell collaboration merch as well.

You will need a proxy to buy from them. For search, just put [ペルソナnumber] ("Persona") and browse. If you want something specific, try the words I put on the merch type section.

Suruga-ya JP: Same as its ENG counterpart but with way more stuff. Great to find single items at lower prices. This is one of the best places to buy doujin from as well. I think starting at 3k yen spent the national shipping is free, but don't quote me on this.

Mercari JP: Pretty much the Japanese Ebay. The best thing about it are the merch bundles (you can save lots) and "junk" items (figures with missing accesories and such, they can be dirt cheap). Since you have to contact the seller directly, some proxies charge extra fees for Mercari orders (and some sellers refuse to sell to proxies)

Yahoo Auctions: Auction site, you can find great deals and obscure merch there. Some listing are a "ready to buy", so you dont have to bid. Yahoo Auctions is blocked in EU, so you will need a VPN to browse it (I use Opera's free in-browser VPN, its works for what you need it)

Booth: Marketplace for japanese artists. You can find from prints and charms to 3D models and music. The national shipping price is always 750 yen.

💙 Proxies & how to use them

First off, a proxy is not a shop, but an intermediary. They sometimes have in-website shops so you don't have to change tabs to browse different shops, but all they do is to buy what you tell them to & then sent the item to you.

Each proxy has a user guide, but most of them work like this:

You sent them the link of the item you want

They sent you the invoce for said item

You pay the item (+ proxy fees & national shipping, if any)

They buy the item

Once it arrives to their warehouse, they pack the item & sent you the international shipping invoice

You pay the international shipping.

They sent you the item.

Akihiko is now on your house.

So what you will always have to pay is the item price & the shipping from Japan to your house, just like any other online purchase.

The optional payments are:shipping within Japan & proxy fees. And if you like in EU, the VAT of the item+shipping value (luckly, proxies almost never put the shipping price on the invoice)

It may sound complicated, but is very easy actually. All you have to do is sent them links & wait for "you need to pay" emails.

💙 Different proxies

Pretty much any proxy will do the work, the big difference is often how expensive they are. This is something you will need to research yourself to see what option is better/cheaper to you, but here are some proxies:

DeJapan

Fees- None if you only buy 1 thing. 100y/item if you buy more than one thing

Mercari Fee: 200 yen (handling fee)

Customer service - Amazing

Can bid on Yahoo Auctions? - Yes

Can buy from physical stores? (not online ones) - Yes. 200y/oder fee

Can buy NSFW items? - Yes

Can undervalue? - No

Boxes - Okay

Good for - Buying in bulk, probably the cheapest proxy. No currency exchange fees

Complains - Shipping options can be limited (For examply they don't offer Small Packet to some countries when other proxies do). They can take a bit to buy and package orders.

Buyee

Fees- Too many to count.

Mercari Fee: 300y/order

Customer service - Bad

Can bid on Yahoo Auctions? - Yes

Can buy from physical stores? (not online ones) - No

Can buy NSFW items? - When they feel like it

Can undervalue? - No

Boxes - You can use them as your new house

Good for - Buying a single item, specially with discount coupons. If you only buy 1 thing, these coupons can save you lots.

Complains - Too many fees specially if you buy more than 1 thing. They throw the original shipping boxes onto a bigger box unless you contact them directly, so you will get an elephant-sized box with a elephant-sized shipping cost to match. Seriously, only use them for a single order

Zen Market

Fees- 500yen/item

Mercari Fee: No

Customer service - Good

Can bid on Yahoo Auctions? - Yes

Can buy from physical stores? (not online ones) - No

Can buy NSFW items? - Yes

Can undervalue? - No

Boxes - Small, very sturdy. They weight quite a bit.

Good for - Buying one item. Also you can pay EU VAT thru them.

Complains - The new 500y/item fee piles up fast, not recomented to buy in bulk. They're slow to buy. You have to put money on the ZM wallet to pay.

Japan Rabbit

Fees- Per-item fee (depends on shop) + >10% of your order total (depends on how much you spent). Minimun fee is $9 regarless of what you spent.

Mercari Fee: $3/item

Customer service - Amazing

Can bid on Yahoo Auctions? - Yes

Can buy from physical stores? (not online ones) - Yes, but only in stores located in Tokyo and Yokohama.

Can buy NSFW items? - Yes

Can undervalue? - Yes (despite claiming otherwise, probably due to legal matters. You can undervalue after the items arrive to their warehouse)

Boxes - Very small, they're masters at tetris

Good for - To undervalue (but I their 10% fee can cancel a good chunk of what you save in VAT). They're fast in buying & packing.

Complains - They got very expensive, specially now that they charge with USD instead of Yen. I dont know why would you use them now. I guess great service comes with a price to match...

Neokyo

Fees- 250y/item + 500y for packaging

Mercari Fee: None

Customer service - N/A

Can bid on Yahoo Auctions? - Yes

Can buy from physical stores? (not online ones) - Yes, 1k yen fee

Can buy NSFW items? - Yes?

Can undervalue? - No

Boxes - Okay from what I have heard

Good for - They buy very fast. Buying in bulk

Complains - All payment options have a 3% fee

Other proxies:

From Japan - I have heard good things about it, but they changed their site & I find it hard to read, so I can't comment much on it on how its currently. Looks like they dont have many fees either?

And that's all!

I hope you have fun buying, I started using proxies a few years ago and I got addicted lmao

You're the only one who gets to say what to do with your money, but I would use the retail prices I mentioned as a reference when buying to not get scammed with high prices.

Also if you want a specific merch, the key is patience! Check 2nd hand sites every 2 days or so until you find it.

If you have any problem or question, feel free to send me an ask/DM!! (except for bidding, I have never used Yahoo auctions)

#talk #persona 3 #i keep seeing people buying prize figures for #over $100 when theyre not even worth half of that and #it hurts me; please take care of your wallet ToT

133 notes · View notes

romione-trope-fest · 3 months

Text

Hufflepuff Tea (Search)Party

Fic Title: Hufflepuff Tea (Search)Party

Author Name: CowahBull

Selected Trope: OotP Missing Moment

Brief Summary: Hufflepuffs are great advice-givers. They’re the best argument mediators. Find a Hufflepuff if you need to be told the brutally honest truth. A Hufflepuff will never purposely steer you wrong. Hufflepuffs are also excellent gossip-finders. It’s a well-known fact around Hogwarts that if you ever need to know what’s going on in the school, you find a Hufflepuff. This particular group of Hufflepuffs has their eyes set on the story around a certain pair of Gryffindor Prefects.

Word Count: 2859 Rating: G Trigger Warnings: None

_____________

Attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible, Hannah and Susan exited the Room of Requirements to make their way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Hannah ensured that her prefect badge was securely attached as they passed a small group of third-year Slytherins in the second-floor corridor. She watched them turn onto the staircase leading to the Great Hall.

“Did you see me hit Zacharias with that Stunner?” Susan was chatting happily as they passed the portrait of the bowl of fruit, which hid the entrance to the kitchen. “He didn’t even have a chance to Shield.” Susan gave a triumphant whoop, and Hannah hushed her while giggling herself.

“Ernie got me a couple times tonight,” Hannah admitted as they approached the entrance to the Common Room. “I’m going to need to practice my Shield Charm before the next meeting. Do you want to practice with me after we finish Snape’s Potions essay?”

“I have Flitwik’s essay after I’m finished with Potions,” said Susan, giving the second barrel to the right a hard knock, revealing the entrance to the nearly empty Hufflepuff Common Room. “We’ll have work on it later in the week.”

“Damn,” Hannah said, disappointed. “Yeah, we can do that.”

They found seats around the table in the corner and prepared to begin working on Snape’s Shrinking Solutions assignment; they were joined shortly after by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan.

“Guess who I just caught snogging behind that tapestry of the unicorn hunt,” whispered Ernie, relishing in the chance to share the latest gossip.

“Peeves and Sir Cadogen?” Susan teased, trying and failing to keep her focus on the schoolwork in front of her.

“Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner.” Ernie took his seat to Susan’s left and began pulling Snape’s essay from his bag. “Third couple I’ve caught back there this month.”

“People need to find another place to snog,” Hannah said, rolling her eyes. “I found Ancrum and Hurst back there yesterday.”

“Amatures,” scoffed Justin, “everyone knows about that spot. You’re guaranteed to be caught back there. Surprised Filch hasn’t permanently posted himself there overnight.”

Susan shared a mischievous look with Ernie before returning her attention to her parchment; she still needed to add another four inches on the importance of the full moon on ingredient harvesting.

Scratching quills and the rustle of papers filled the room, interrupted only by questions asked of neighbors and the occasional curses on Snape’s name.

“So, when did Weasley and Granger start dating?” mused Ernie as he flicked through the pages of his textbook.

"Wait!” Susan exclaimed, throwing down her quill, suddenly extremely invested in Ernie’s latest news. “I didn’t know they’re actually dating. Have you been withholding information from us?”

“Haven’t you seen them in the last few DA meetings?” continued Ernie. “They never stopped flirting that entire time.”

“I don’t think they even know they’re flirting,” Hannah argued.

“They were joking around a lot between their Stunning Spells,” Justin said disinterestedly. “I don’t think that means they’re dating, though.”

“I think Neville would have mentioned it if Ron and Hermione were together,” Hannah said, not looking up as she opened her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Volume Five. “He shares a dorm with Ron, after all.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” argued Ernie.

“I really don’t think that’s enough evidence to prove that they’re together,” sighed Susan, returning her attention to the book in front of her.

“We can ask Longbottom tomorrow,” suggested Justin. “We have Herbology with Gryffindor in the afternoon. Hannah partners up with him whenever possible.” He gave Hannah a playful wink that she responded to with a rude gesture, her cheeks turning pink. Susan rolled her eyes and picked up her quill and a fresh piece of parchment. She had far too much homework tonight to debate the rumored love life between the two Gryffindor Prefects.

—

Greenhouse Six housed the tropical plants, making it the hottest classroom in the school. Susan and Hannah had already shed their outer robes and had pulled their hair into high buns on top of their heads when Professor Sprout charged the class to break into groups of three to take on the task of repotting Solanum melongena. Hannah was quick to claim Neville Longbottom as her and Susan’s partner.

Tucking into a station, Susan began prepping the new pot while Neville and Hannah set off on the task of calming the plant so it would allow them to uproot it without stinging them in the process. Susan eyed Weasley and Granger across the greenhouse as they began complimenting and stroking the plant sitting in front of them on the other end of the long work bench, with Potter to the left of them prepping a transfer pot.

"Wow, you have such beautiful leaves,” cooed Neville as he stroked the plumage. ��Come on, dear, let’s have a look at those roots.” He gently lifted the leaves of their plant and extracted a small handful of dirt. The melongena twitched menacingly at his touch.

“Wonderful job,” Hannah said, reaching in to take a handful of dirt for herself. “So, Neville, we’ve been meaning to ask you about something.” She began to back away as a branch jerked at her.

“Now, now there’s no reason to be like that,” Neville scolded. “Hannah is just trying to help.” He didn’t take his eyes off the flower to which he was tending while addressing the girls, “What do you need to ask me?”

Susan leaned in close to him. “So what’s going on with them?” she gestured her head towards Weasley and Granger across the greenhouse, who were chatting happily with Potter.

Neville furrowed his brow. “Dean and Seamus?” he asked, barely lifting his eyes from the plant. “I’ve been wondering about them too…”

Susan stifled a laugh. “We all have.”

“Come on,” sighed Hannah, pulling a root from the pot. “You know exactly who we’re talking about.”

“Granger and Weasley,” Susan whispered. “When did they start dating?”

“I don’t think Hermione likes him like that,” Neville said, looking at them with mischief in his eyes. “Besides, isn’t Charlie a little old for her anyway?”

“Stop taking the piss, Longbottom,” added Susan, crossing her arms and glaring at Neville.

“Sorry, Susan.” Neville shrugged and returned his attention to the Solanum melongena, dodging to avoid being hit by one of its swinging vines. “I have no intelligence for you.”

–

That evening, Ernie was patrolling the west side of the castle, being sure to check behind every alcove and tapestry he passed. When he turned the corner to the third-floor staircase, he spotted a pair of Ravenclaws. Just who he was hoping to see.

“Michael, wait up,” he called, going up the stairs toward Michael Corner and Terry Boot.

The boys stopped as soon as Ernie reached them. “What’s up?” Michael asked.

“You’re still dating Ginny Weasley, right?”

Michael’s eyebrow cocked. “What’s it matter to you?“

“What’s the deal with her brother and Hermione Granger?”

“It’s not like we spend our time together talking about her brother’s love life.”

“So,” Ernie prodded further, “Ginny hasn’t said anything about their flirting during…” he looked over his shoulder. “–Er practice?”

“I’m not there to watch everyone else’s business,” Michael snapped. “I’m there to learn,” he added in a lowered voice.

“It did seem like Granger did hold his hand for a little longer than necessary when helping him up,” interjected Terry. “That’s hardly worth a fuss.”

“You could ask Lavender or Parvati,” shrugged Michael. “Do you think Hermione would have said anything to them?”

“I doubt it,” moaned Terry, appearing to be almost as interested in the rumors as Ernie. “Hermione doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘braiding each other’s hair and chatting’ type.”

Ernie considered their suggestions. “Hannah asked them before. No luck.” He turned to Michael. “His sister-”

“Yeah, I’ll ask Ginny what she knows.” He looked over Ernie’s shoulder suddenly and hitched his bag up his shoulder as Draco Malfoy and his usual posse came around the corner. “Better get out of here before he starts making trouble,” he added in a low tone.

They turned and walked away from each other before Malfoy could reach them. “No unauthorized meetings are allowed, Macmillan,” he sneered. “Ten points from Hufflepuff.”

Ernie scowled at the Slytherin gang and continued down the stairs. Making rude hand gestures when he was out of sight.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Ernie found Hannah and Susan skipping toward him from the direction of the library, mischief in their eyes.

“Do you have any idea why Amanda Comstock would be in an empty classroom with Dexter Woodworth after curfew?”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

–

Justin jogged past a group of third-year Ravenclaw students waiting outside the Arithmancy classroom.

“Sally-Anne, wait up!” Just who he wanted to see. As he caught up to her, he leaned to whisper, “What’s this I’m hearing about Comstock and Woodworth?” He matched pace with her as they made their way to double transfiguration.

“What is it that you’re hearing?”

“Something about the Prefects’ bathroom…”

”No, that was Cedric and Cho last year.”

“Oh right,” Justin waved for her to go on. “A classroom?”

“Yes, a classroom.” Sally-Anne nodded. “I heard that Miss Maisy Blackmon was out on patrol when she heard rustling in Binn’s classroom.”

“NO!” Justin’s shout startled a pair of first-year Gryffindors walking past. “Old Binnsey’s room? I wouldn’t consider that the most romantic place.”

“He’s got a thing for troll riots, I guess,” Sally-Anne shrugged. “Anyway,” she continued, ”Maisy goes into the room expecting to find Peeves-”

“Were they making that much of a ruckus?”

Sally-Anne only looked at him before continuing. “She goes in and sees the two of them all tangled up against the professor’s desk.”

“Here, I thought she liked girls.”

“She likes hot people,” Sally-Anne shrugged. “Hey, what’s the news on Ron and Hermione?”

“The rumor mill is all over the place.”

“You think Granger is still seeing Victor Krum?”

“She’d be crazy not to.” Justin jumped to tap his hands against a discolored brick above his head. “He is internationally famous, after all.”

“But we have no solid evidence?”

“I’m convinced they’re dating.”

“Granger and Weasley?” He had her full attention now. Justin had to pull her robe sleeve to help her avoid walking right through a passing ghost. “You have evidence to back up that claim?”

“Ron and Hermione have been seen in each other’s company more than Potter’s for the last few weeks.”

“They were doing an awful lot of laughing during dinner yesterday,” Sally-Anne added.

“The flirting really is getting out of hand.”

“That’s couple behavior, if I’ve ever seen it,” said Sally-Anne, shaking her head and smiling. “I wonder when it happened.“

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” sighed Justin as they reached McGonagall’s classroom door. “Troll riots, you say?”

–

Professor Binns droned on in front of them as Ernie spent his time scribbling on a scrap piece of parchment.

Don’t look now. What’s Weasley doing?

Hannah stretched in her seat, stealing a peek behind her. The Gryffindors were seated at the bench a few yards away. Hermione sat scribbling furiously in her notes, giving Binns her undivided attention. Harry was asleep with his face in his hands and his glasses propped on top of his head. Ron had his eyes closed and his head resting–

Oh Merlin! How long has he been resting on her shoulder?

A WHILE!

Does she even notice?

She was looking at him with total heart-eyes earlier.

Ernie drew a stick person with giant hearts for eyes and big curls coming from her head.

Hannah nudged her elbow into Susan’s side, jolting her out of the sleepy trance into which she was slipping. At her confused look, she passed the parchment in front of her and signaled for Justin’s attention as well. They both sat and read the note intently before they both found themselves with sudden cricks in their necks that simply needed to be stretched out immediately.

Susan gasped but covered it up with a cough. Justin stole the paper and his quill.

So they are dating!! We need to figure out when

A head on her shoulder does not equal dating. I do that to Hannah all the time.

Ernie craned his head to read the note sitting between Hannah and Susan. He shot them a look that meant one thing: ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’. Taking the paper, he scrawled.

You didn’t see the heart-eyes. If they’re not dating now, they will by the end of term. I guarantee it!!

He tossed the paper back to the group with a look of pride. The bell rang, rousing everyone in class from their stupor. Ernie watched as Ron jolted up from Hermione’s arm, both blushing and refusing to look at each other.

–

Prefect patrol duties were really cutting into their study schedule. Hannah complained to Ernie about their course load as they aimlessly roamed the halls for the last hour before curfew.

“She’s a sadist,” she cried. “Who assigns a four-foot assignment on Shield Charms without including class practice time?”

“Maybe Harry will be able to go over it with us again on Monday.” Ernie pulled his magic coin from his pocket to confirm the date. “I need to get Justin back for that Stunner he sent to my face.”

“I’m going to ask Hermione if I can look at her notes for Arithmancy. Mine just don’t feel complete enough. And you know how strict Professor Vector can be about thoroughness. I don’t know how I’m going to finish those problems for her by class tomorrow.”

Hannah talked non-stop for three floors while Ernie halfheartedly looked inside every classroom they passed.

“Shh,” he said to Hannah before calling into the long, unused classroom. “It’s almost curfew; you better get back to your Common Room.”

A mop of red hair appeared from behind the teacher’s desk, pulling up a very embarrassed-looking girl.

“Weasley, please,” Ernie started. “I’m much too tired to deal with this tonight.”

“Not a problem at all,, my friend,” laughed Fred (or was it George?) as he reached into his pocket and pulled out two small packages. “How about we part ways here and pretend it never happened?”

He put the bags of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products into Ernie and Hannah’s hands before pulling an apologizing Angelina Johnson down the hall toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

“No detours!” Hannah called after them, but they were already gone.

“That has got to stop happening,” said Hannah as she pocketed her bribe. “I’m going to be able to start my own joke shop with everything hiding in my trunk.”

“We could just report them.” Ernie shrugged. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Continuing their patrol, they peered into classrooms and behind statues periodically but found nothing but cobwebs and dust.

“We should head back to the Common Room,” Hannah yawned. “Double Potions with Slytherin first thing tomorrow.”

Ernie yawned his agreement and opened the door for the second-floor corridor. Before she could get through the door behind him, he froze. At the bottom of the stairs were Ron and Hermione, on their own patrol. Hermione was laughing animatedly at the impression Ron was making of Umbridge, their fingers interlocked.

Hannah shut the door, and the two leaped an arm’s length apart, realizing they were not alone. “Good evening, Ernie. Evening Hannah,“ Hermione said nervously, her cheeks pink. Ron nodded but refused to make eye contact with either of them.

"Hello, Hermione,” Hannah said, her voice a little too polite. “Good evening, Ron.”

“Evening,” Ron said as he and Hermione began ascending the stairs.

Ernie seemed to have found his legs again and continued to descend, passing them in the middle. Hannah followed close behind, her mind buzzing but her face remaining as neutral as possible.

As both parties met on the staircase, Ron cleared his throat and spoke in a low tone. “Er Harry hasn’t sent the notice yet, but -er- it moved to Thursday after dinner.”

“Right,” Ernie said, nodding. “Thanks.” He gave a weak thumbs up before he and Hannah passed through the space the Gryffindor students had created between each other.

The moment they were around the corner and out of earshot, Hannah turned to Ernie, her eyes alight. ‘Oh my god’ they mouthed to each other before hurrying toward the ground floor.

Ernie scratched his knuckle from pounding on the barrel blocking the Hufflepuff Common Room, but he gave it no notice as he and Hannah went running up to the table where Susan and Justin sat, absorbed in their homework.

“Oh my gods, you will never guess who we just saw!”

#submission

57 notes · View notes

fog-and-rust · 8 months

Text

Here we go again with screenshots

The Restricted Section has the coolest tapestries

***

Fluffy buddies

***

Stained glass with Hogwarts Founders

***

This place reminds me of an old game Keepsake (2006). I adored this game. Maybe it's the reason why I enjoy Hogwarts Legacy so much.

***

I want this writing-desk. It looks epic

***

I headcanon that this is the place Zenobia used to go to console herself after failing social interactions before MC befriended her (I always return her Gobstones. My MC is a menace to dark wizards, goblins and Puffskein Dunkein, but she is nice to Zenobia)

***

Love the ambience. Wonder if these images of Demiguise scare Mr Moon

***

Cool signs ahead, but the troll one didn't work

***

Cool aesthetic

***

Cozy corner at the entrance to Ravenclaw Common Room.

***

Their battle will be legendary! Let my Hufflepuff girl enter Ravenclaw Common Room just to vibe there.

***

He looks so soft

***

My MC is on her way to tell her classmates how awesome Chinese Chomping Cabbages are

***

Ominis gets his beauty sleep at every opportunity

***

Everett is wondering if he can change Duncan's Boggart from Puffskein into Venomous Tentacula

***

Closeup of Professor Sharp's Auror Badge (if someone needs references)

***

Bestie, stop. If you want to be dramatic, go jump from Astronomy Tower. Use Fizzing Whizzbees or Levioso to survive

***

I feel like three of them could become good friends. Each one is a loner and can be a savage so they can understand each other

***

He can infodump about ALL the ingredients in Potions Classroom and I'll listen to it for hours

***

Kink suggestion for Garreth's fans: Imagine him spoonfeeding you with his new concoction

When I saw him taking a spoon out of his pocket I cackled so loudly that I startled my dog

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy meme #hogwarts legacy screenshots #hogwarts legacy mc #leander prewett #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #amit thakkar #poppy sweeting #imelda reyes #everett clopton

121 notes · View notes

yacinthemorning · 11 months

Text

Mother Hen

Chapter 3 of 6

[First] [Prev] [Next] [Last]

Summary: 5 times Jimmy was almost the mom friend, if not for his other quirks.

Ships: Jimmy & Scar (Friendship)

Warnings: Temporary Death

Scar was a man of many loves, and not one to hold those loves close to his heart. Whether it was talking Grian’s ear off about Star Wars, explaining to Mumbo the intricacies of theme park trickery, or sending absolutely everyone he knew pictures of Jellie falling asleep to his explanations, People tend to learn quite quickly what Scar loved.

Scar loved westerns. Scar loved Toy Story. Scar loved Jimmy. Most importantly, Scar loved the adrenaline from violently one-shotting people mid-flight with his bow. Probably not unexpected of a vex, but true nonetheless. Becoming a deputy happened to allow him to indulge in all these loves, consequence free from the law at that.

So, Scar would become deputy. Nothing could stop him. Nothing.

But, well, they could certainly hinder him.

“I need you to kill the Goblin and reclaim his badge.”

Scar blinked, taken aback by the request. “I’m sorry, what?”

The Sheriff huffed, putting on the hardest look he could muster, and pointed to his own badge. “He is no longer deputy, yet he refuses to hand it over. If you want to be promoted to full deputy, I’m going to need to know I can trust you. So, I need you to kill him and get it back.”

“Do I have to murder him? I mean I’m sure he can be reasoned with.” Scar suggested. Not that Scar didn’t enjoy a jolly little bit of murder, but this was the Empires server. With the hermits, they could kill for fun and forget it entirely five minutes later. On Empires, though, lore magic threaded itself into every action. And an assassination of the former deputy as ordered by the Sheriff of his new deputy certainly wasn’t an act that would go unwoven by the world’s tapestry, so to speak. Not very conducive to keeping good relations with someone who had Jellie hostage, at the very least.

But the Sheriff seemed sure. His expression only wavered back to Jimmy slightly when Scar gave him sad eyes. “He disrespected the law, Scar. He’s parading around pretending to still be a deputy!”

“But can’t I just snag it from a chest, or something?” Scar tried to insist.

The Sheriff shook his head. “No, I know him. He’ll have it on him. He never puts it down. In order to get it and send a message we must kill him.”

It seemed excessive, but if the Sheriff was sure… Well, Scar still wasn’t totally on board. Maybe he could find a different way to get it back and just lie to the Sheriff?

So, he tried talking to Fwhip. The only result was the Goblin now knew Scar was ordered to kill him. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the smartest move. Briefly, he considered asking Tango to reason with the pair. He didn’t have Scar’s silver tongue, but he was the only one who could repair Fwhip’s wonky redstone, and Jimmy would make any compromise to keep his rancher happy. Alas, by the time Scar considered it, the blazeborn was about five miles deep and seventy-two sleepless hours too far gone on a project in an entire other server. Until he snapped out of his redstone coma he was unreachable.

Maybe Grian could…?

But the only result of getting Grian involved was Jimmy fumbling out of his home half-dressed, wings still covered in pastel suds, screaming at them to put the wither skulls down. That, and a very disappointed look from Jimmy to Scar specifically. Hurt, betrayed even. Scar hadn’t even done anything that time, but he supposed that was the issue in Jimmy’s eyes. What was Scar supposed to do, though, tell Grian he couldn’t pull pranks? Didn’t Jimmy know parrots needed to be provided with plenty of mental stimuli?

So, Scar resigned himself. The least he could do was have a fun time with it and Hotguy the little Goblin. That surely had to impress the Sheriff. In-between construction of the trade street and appeasing Grian’s reign of terror he and the Sheriff formulated a plan.

“I’ll go in and distract him, saying I need to talk.” Jimmy explained.

Scar nodded along while he placed planks. “And when you say the signal I swoop in and Hotguy him!”

“Exactly! He’ll never suspect it.”

“Oh, but he still has Jellie hostage…”

Both men deflated. Jimmy’s feathers flatten, chewing on his lip as he tried very hard to think. “Oh, yeah. Um… You know what? We’ll save her while we’re at it!”

Well that certainly sounded like a plan Scar could get behind.

They snuck in at first, then the Sheriff went forth on his own to create the distraction. If Scar was honest, he was himself distracted most of the time by the gorgeous builds. The firs signal went unheard. Second time’s the charm. What Scar had not anticipated was how cramped and very underground Gobland was. Not ideal for flying and swooping and Hotguying a tiny little Goblin at all.

He missed.

The Goblin let out a shriek, at first diving for any cover, but then going for the lowest of lows. As Scar managed to knock at least one arrow into him he slipped between the bars of Jellie’s prison and used the poor darling as a kitty shield.

To his credit, the Sheriff stopped despite the seething rage in his expression as he shouted for the Goblin to hand over the badge. Scar landed beside him, trying desperately to line up a shot to finish the Goblin off, but it was far too late. Conniving, underhanded, and with a great eagerness, the Goblin took full advantage of Jimmy’s slip-up of kindness and stabbed him right through the heart.

Scar retreated, partly in fear but mostly in shame.

Jimmy woke up back in Tumble Town, alone and still reeling. How could their plan have gone so wrong? He didn’t bother to get up right away, instead just sending Scar a message to retreat and regroup another day.

Embarrassing seemed like an understatement. Of all things to stop them, it was a cat. Who knew if it was still alive, even? The Sheriff should have ignored it and gone for his enemy’s throat. He was the law, after all! Or his deputy should have done his job. How could he allow himself such a moment of weakness?

A meow echoed through the house. Norman pushed his way through the crack in the door, his deputy collar rattling as he leapt up onto the bed to greet Jimmy’s unexpected return. Despite his depression Jimmy smiled, reaching out to scratch Norman’s ears. “Hey big man. How’re the creepers doing?” He murmured.

Deputy Norman let out a long mrow. The Sheriff nodded. “I see. I see. Well, that’s good you were able to resolve it. Wouldn’t want any of our workers getting hurt.” He got a purr in response.

Okay, so maybe there was room in the Sheriff’s heart for cat-related weaknesses. Maybe the Sheriff could stand to throw his deputy a bone when he tried, even if he failed. It was Jimmy’s role, he could play it how he liked.

That gave Jimmy an idea. An epiphany really. It was something Jimmy should have probably done long ago. With renewed vigor, he leapt to his feet, put on his hat, and went to find a lead.

Scar felt quite resigned to being fired when he met back up with the Sheriff the next day. How could he not be when he fumbled every step of the plan, resulting in his boss dying at his worst enemy’s hands? He even lost his sheriff badge in the chaos.

But the Sheriff didn’t ask to talk about that. The Sheriff asked to meet him at the trade street instead. When he reached the meeting spot Jimmy was already wandering around in awe at the buildings, poking his head around every corner. “Scar, this is amazing.” He said, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

Scar wasn’t quite sure what to do. He was expecting a hard conversation with the Sheriff, not compliments from Jimmy. But he was nothing if not a showman (conman), so he switched gears as smoothly as he could and threw his arms out towards the doors. “Well wait till you get a load of what’s inside! Come on, come on!”

More than movies or murder, Scar loved to build things for his friends. Things that would be useful, things that would make them smile, things that reminded both of them that they were indeed friends, of the fun times they had together. He liked to believe that shined through in his builds. At least, he hoped. When Jimmy’s expression lit up at every new part of the trade street Scar showed him, whether he understood what Scar was rambling on about or not, he felt confident it did.

“This is really something else, Scar.” Jimmy went on.

“This’ll make you one of the most powerful empires on the server, I reckon.” Scar tipped his hat with a grin.

There were a few more moments of wonder, but eventually Jimmy let out a sigh. His posture shifted slightly, placing his hands on his hips to hold himself a little taller. Ah, now Scar was going to have to talk to the Sheriff.

But the Sheriff’s expression hardly changed, even as he began to speak. “So, the assassination attempt…”

Scar quickly put his hands up in surrender. “I know. I’m so sorry, boss, I failed you.” He quickly admitted, hanging his head.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” The Sheriff insisted, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Listen, you did your best. Now I’m not gonna say that went well, because it went everything but. But! You did your best.”

“Really?” Scar replied, a bit stunned.

The Sheriff nodded, then pulled back to reach into his pocket. “Yep. And besides that, Tumble Town has grown so much because of you. I reckon you well earned this by now.”

He reached over, and before Scar quite knew what was going on, he had already backed away. Scar looked down to see a shiny silver metal placed over the breast of his jacket. He let out a gasp. “Oh! Oh, really?”

“Really, really! I promote you from in-training to full deputy, Deputy Scar!” The Sheriff announced proudly. “Congratulations.”

An excited giggle escaped Scar as he fiddled with the badge. “I’m a deputy!”

“You are! We may have failed but you did your best, and that deserves a gold star in my books. Er, silver shield, at least.” The Sheriff explained, hand rubbing his neck. “Oh! And I have one more thing for you.”

Yellow wings suddenly spread wide and darted right out of the canyon. Scar fumbled to follow after him, summoning his own gangly wings to give chase. They landed not too far off along a path. At first Scar felt confused – there didn’t seem to be any new builds not made by Scar himself – but it was quickly washed away by a familiar little meow.

Scar sucked in a breath, trying not to scream and scare away the skittish little grey and white creature hidden behind the fence post. Slowly and carefully, as all Jellies did in every world they met, she crawled her way over to Scar’s extended hand to give it a welcome rub. A purr almost immediately started up, and Scar thought he might cry. “You found her.”

“Of course. It was your condition, right?” Jim- The Sheriff explained. “You’ve done so much for me, it’s the least I could do.”

Happily scooping up Jellie into his arms, Scar gave his boss a salute. “And I’ll continue to do so! I promise I’ll protect Tumble Town with my life!”

“That’s what I’m hoping!”

“By the way, Sheriff.” Scar started while he rubbed Jellie’s belly, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Have you thought about what I said?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“About the toy thing.”

“Scar.”

Scar pouted. “Woody’s my favourite character, though…”

A glare slowly melted into an amused smile. “Fine, I’ll think about it, Scar.” Sheriff Jimmy promised.

#jimmy solidarity #goodtimeswithscar #fwhip #mcyt #hermitpires #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort #5+1 #sharing a slice of cake

4 notes · View notes

worldcatlas · 1 year

Text

SNW: Strange New Worlds

Spoiler warning: there will be some.

Following the events of Discovery season 2, Captain Pike heads back to the Enterprise for his own spin-off. We start with a cute little scene of an alien species making first contact, wearing sharp-looking military uniforms with awesome light-up lapels.

My rank is aquamarine and you will address me as such.

As the scene changes, we get a glimpse of some really classic costumes from The Day the Earth Stood Still – apparently one of Captain Pike’s favourites, as he’s watching it while making pancakes and contemplating the horrifying nature of his own doomed existence in an immutable tapestry of fate.

…The movie helps.

Yes, still reeling from having witnessed his own gruesome future, Chris has retreated to his cabin in Montana and adopted the aesthetic of “comfy dad.”

The beard has some potential, though.

Then, without any warning, he cleans up and gets on a horse in a snowstorm, looking like this:

Okay, yes, I’m team beard. 100%.

The viewer suddenly remembers they are writing a blog about fashion, and remembers to pay attention just in time for Admiral April to show up in a shuttle and Starfleet’s latest winter line, complete with gloves and an extra-long jacket.

It’s nice, but I prefer the winter 2154 men’s collection.

They argue about whose jacket is cooler.

Look at this thing. I look amazing.

I think it’s mostly the horse.

Finally, they agree both jackets are good, and Pike will return to the Enterprise. Meanwhile, Spock is on a date.

I love how Vulcan formalwear is so… pointy.

With all the tact of a wild sehlat, Spock comments on how T’Pring is wearing “ritual mating colours,” though it’s hard to tell what those are with how orange everything is on Vulcan. Or maybe the mating colour is orange. That would be convenient.

I’ll bet he hasn’t even noticed her double-decker bun.

Despite the bluntness of Spock’s observation, it IS a great look, with sparkly fabric and interesting cutouts on both the front and back. T’Pring is also a master of accessorizing, and wears swirly gold earrings and a matching gold ring in the shape of a sun.

There’s another accessory inside the box, but it’s probably not important.

Somehow, being an oblivious dingus doesn’t prevent our boy from getting intimate with his new fiancée, and we get to see what Vulcan lingerie looks like! Unlike its lacy human counterpart, Vulcan “date underwear” appears to be geometric and metallic. On the other hand, the sheer cover-up that covers nothing is a well-known garment in human apparel.

I’m not sure I see the logic in this piece of clothing.

Aboard the Enterprise, we are greeted by transporter chief Kyle, who is actually surprisingly well-established in canon and not just some guy named Kyle, which I definitely didn’t assume for a very long time. *cough*

His uniform is an interesting style, and the colour blocking feels a bit reminiscent of 90s Trek uniforms. He wears a shiny metal badge with his department insignia, similar to the ones we saw in Discovery, in contrast to the simple metallic patches sewn onto the uniforms in TOS.

Friggin’ Kyle.

Most of the bridge crew, on the other hand, wear the solid colour TOS-style uniforms. Right away, we can see they’ve been updated with modern, almost athleticwear fabrics, and have a more severe v-neck.

Spock approves of severity in one’s appearance.

Notably, the rank bands at the cuffs are now coloured to match the uniform, not just standard gold across the board.

Another neat feature is that the upper shoulder/top of sleeve part of these uniforms has a tiny pattern matching the wearer’s department. These symbols are the same as those on their badges, in most cases.

Starburst pattern indicates command.

Spiral pattern indicates operations. Withering glare indicates disdain.

Later, in sick bay, we are introduced to two more legacy TOS characters, Dr. M’Benga and Nurse Chapel. Now, before I get to Nurse Chapel and lose my ability to form cohesive thoughts, let’s look at the good Doctor’s outfit.

The look of a man who’s about to get more lines than the original character ever did.

It’s a lighter blue than other sciences uniforms we’ve seen, closer to the shade used for all medical and science crew in the original series. It also features an interesting front closure, and appears to have a pattern of medical crosses on top of the sleeves/shoulders.

Look, if there’s one guy on the ship who outranks the captain, he gets a special uniform.

Nurse Chapel, on the other hand, gets this absolutely killer white jumpsuit, featuring the same silver bands at the wrist, a zipper down the front, and pockets(!). This is, by far, my favourite uniform variant in Strange New Worlds, and it couldn’t be worn by a better character.

Oh my god she’s so cool. Is she looking this way?

You can also see the same pattern of medical crosses… on the uh…

oh my god I think she looked at me

I would be sick every day of my life on this starship.

Our guys need to go down to the planet, which means it’s time for disguises! Pike gets a slick black suit, chief of security La’an gets a gorgeous copper jacket, and Spock gets a military-style uniform.

With little shorts.

*chef’s kiss*

I want to focus on La’an’s outfit, which we get to see a little more of as she executes a quick-thinking plan. I love the burgundy tights matching the dress, and of course I’m a fan of the metallic fabric studded with something shiny and metal at the lapels.

I’m a simple Trekkie. Sparkly = good.

So it’s a bit of a shame when they mercilessly beat up a bunch of doctors and steal* their clothes. I do enjoy the construction of these outfits, though, with the high collar and flap closure.

*Okay, they didn’t steal their clothes, they had the ship create replicas of their clothes and beam them down. But that kinda just seems like sci-fi hand-waving because they didn’t want to explain finding three perfectly tailored uniforms. Or have La’an beat up enough doctors to find clothes that fit.

She would, though.

We get a great shot of the full coat, as well as Uhura’s skant, when one of the aliens gets loose aboard Enterprise and they become friends in a turbolift. Note Uhura’s unique rectangular badge, as well.

First time riding the elevator in an alien spaceship?

We also get to see the aliens’ security uniforms in a gorgeous dark teal, complemented by brass-adorned holsters and little tie shields, which are apparently a thing here. I guess neckties are universal, though.

Just like many species develop two arms and eyes, many evolve the half windsor naturally.

The alien president is on top of her brand as well, with an absolutely fierce suit dress in merlot.

That’s ready to go right on the propaganda!

She even comes back in a later scene with a different outfit in the same colour, which tells me this is for sure a woman who has her shit together enough to run a planet.

I can’t even get my socks to match this well.

Before we close out the episode, Admiral April returns with a new jacket, which Pike has to admit is very good.

The badge even has laurels. Okay, you win.

I’m starting to suspect these new-Trek articles are going to be slightly longer.

#st tos #star trek #fashion #vulcan

5 notes · View notes

thriveinyour50sandbeyond · 8 months

Text

Embracing the Changes

I know for me growing older has been some what easy and something I have never really thought about much. Birthdays go by and that number keeps growing and have never really bothered me much....well till I realized that I am going to be 60 soon and my son will be 40 and well, it seems like not long ago it seemed like people in their 60's, wow...that was soooo old! LOL

Well I am past that and again, feel like that is just a number that doesn't really go with how I feel. Now, mind you, my body seems to disagree with that more and more as days go on, but in my mind, I feel like I am still so young and it seems so crazy that all the sudden I am going to be this old! I found this list of things that us women can, have, and probably will go through, and thought maybe it would be helpful to some of you that are within these age groups and things that we will start to experience if you haven't began already. Through out time on this blog will dive into things that we can do to overcome the things that are changing in our minds and our bodies. I hope it helps! check it out!

1. The Dance of Hormones: Navigating the New Normal

In your 40s and older, and shoot some of us it can begin as early as in your 30's, hormonal shifts can feel like a gentle tide of change. Embrace them, for they herald a new era of wisdom and self-awareness. Learn about these fluctuations, understand your body's cues, and explore strategies to support your well-being.

2. The Canvas of Skin: Lines of Experience and Beauty

Every line etched upon your skin tells a story. They're marks of laughter, of battles won, and of a life well-lived. Embrace them as badges of honor, for they are a testament to your journey.

3. Mind Matters: Cultivating Mental Wellness

The mind, too, embarks on its own journey. As you grow older, prioritize mental wellness. Engage in practices like mindfulness, meditation, and cognitive exercises that nurture your mental faculties and keep your mind sharp.

4. The Power of Movement: Nourishing Your Body

Movement is medicine. Engage in activities that bring you joy, whether it's yoga for flexibility, strength training for resilience, or dancing to express yourself. Celebrate your body's ability to adapt and thrive.

5. Nourishment from Within: Embracing Nutritional Wisdom

Food is not just sustenance; it's a source of vitality and nourishment. Explore wholesome, nutrient-dense choices that support your body's changing needs. Savor the flavors of each season and let food be a source of joy.

6. Unearthing New Passions: The Adventure Continues

Your 40s and beyond are an invitation to explore uncharted territories. Discover new hobbies, reignite forgotten passions, and relish in the joy of learning. Embrace the thrill of trying something new and relish the sense of accomplishment that follows.

7. Wisdom in Every Breath: Cultivating Inner Peace

With age comes wisdom, and with wisdom comes inner peace. Engage in practices that ground you - whether it's through mindfulness, journaling, or simply taking a moment to breathe deeply and be present.

Our lives are like a painting...a masterpiece, so to speak, always in progress. Like a canvas painted with the colors of experience and the brushstrokes of resilience. Embrace your changes, for they are the hues that make your story uniquely yours. Celebrate the strength that comes with age, and know that you are a living testament to the beauty of growth. Your 40s, 50s and beyond are a tapestry of strength, wisdom, and immeasurable grace. Embrace them, for they are yours to cherish. 🌟💪🌸

#EmbraceChange #WisdomInAging #MindBodyHarmony #SelfDiscovery #AgelessBeauty #MentalWellness #MindfulLiving #SelfCareMatters #GrowthAndResilience #ThrivingAtAnyAge #CelebrateExperience #HarmonyWithin #AgeIsJustANumber #LivingWithPurpose

1 note · View note

sunset-peril · 2 years

Text

Ashes Remain - Chapter Four - When We Met

~~~~

April 17, 2020

Nine Tails Vale

~~~~

"I. Already. Told. You!"

Huh? Who was that?

"I'm a lawyer assigned to this case!"

Wait. Lawyer? Could that be?

"I need to study the crime scene, so if you would please tell me where Kyubi Manor is...!"

"You can't fool me! You're just some delinquent high school student playing hooky!"

Apollo turned his head towards the flaming voices, just in time to see a woman, about his height, trembling with rage. "You stupid, pigheaded...! This attorney's badge isn't just for show, you know!"

Looks like we've just found Ms. Athena Cykes, Justice.

"Tsk! Why don't you believe me! Don't expect me to defend you in court if you ever get arrested!"

"Well," The other voice was sounding much calmer now. "I'm usually the one that does the arresting, so." He flashed a last resort smile. "Say, shouldn't you be getting back to school?"

"I already told you, I'm a lawyer, not a student!"

"That's it! Enough of your lies! You're coming with me!"

~~~~

Ungh... what happened?

His head hurt, and he was now face first down on Yokai Lane's dirt street. What just happened? The last thing he remembered was the police officer arresting Ms. Athena Cykes...

Wait, where was that officer now?

Oh, right. He remembered now. Ms. Cykes snapped as soon as that officer grabbed her, throwing his body into the air... and straight onto him.

"Urnngh... think you can watch out for the bystanders next time?"

"Ah, oh! Whoops! Are you okay?!"

"I think so..."

But that officer...

"I am so sorry! I do that when people suddenly grab me... it's like a reflex or something."

It's like a felony is what it is!

"You're Athena Cykes, I take it?"

"That would be me. And you are?"

~~~~

They were now inside the Fox Chamber, where the murder had occured. Him, and Ms. Athena Cykes. Or, rather, Dr. Athena Cykes.

Athena was a doctor. Mr. Wright did not tell him that. He learned the reason almost instantly: she preferred to be called Miss Cykes, which is who Mr. Wright said to look for. She said that 'someone else was Doctor Cykes.'

Could she be bipolar? Schizophrenic, maybe? She did seem more than an average amount of unstable...

"Apolloooooooo!" Her voice sounded rather whiny, like she was trying to achieve Chords of Steel but had the patience of a five-year-old.

He could see why the cop thought she was a delinquent instead of a double-degreed European doctor of psychology plus lawyer. Her education made her thirty, at least. Her behavior was more akin to a ten-year-old. He wondered if she ever tried the psycho-analyzing thing on herself. Perhaps she had, and was afraid of what she found.

"What, Athena?"

"Look! Look!" She pointed out a minimum of five different investigation spots.

He needed some coffee. She was running circles around him.

This is who Mr. Wright hired? The boss said he and Athena would get along pretty well, he was expecting someone down-to-earth and ready for the dark truths of death. Someone optimistic enough to dream, but real enough to know the world they lived in was dark and dangerous. Someone like Clay, Detective Skye, or Trucy even.

Definitely not this very tall five-year-old.

He was going to have to spend some serious hours repeating Athena's age and education tonight to remind himself that she was not five.

She flared up an unassuming tapestry, one he now saw was dripping in blood.

The smell became much stronger after being disturbed.

He had just barely waded through the scent himself when he heard a thud, and the tapestry fell to the floor. "Athena? Ms. Cykes?"

Athena had passed out and was now underneath the blood-soaked tapestry.

~~~~

April 17, 2020

Wright Anything Agency

~~~~

"Athena! Can you hear me, Athena?!" He continued to splash cold water on her, small amounts so she wouldn't drown, until her eyes fluttered open.

"...¿Quién eres tú?" Her eyes twitched weakly, and she didn't roll over or try to sit up. "¿Quién eres tú?"

"Él no habla español, Athena." Mr. Wright piped in from his desk. "Ingles."

"Ah, you speak English... Who are you?"

"I'm Apollo Justice. We've, uh, already met? At Nine-Tales Vale? You threw a cop at me?"

"Ah, I'm sorry... I'm having some trouble remembering. Did I pass out or something?"

"Uh, yeah. You did. You found a tapestry and passed out as soon as we both realized it smelled like blood."

Her eyes flashed cold, that little necklace she wore turned black. How odd...

"Ah, sorry... I tend to not be good... with sudden large amounts of blood. I guess it just shocked me."

"It's okay. Did you hit your head? Mind if I look and see if you have any bruises?"

"I'd prefer you not... actually."

"Okay, I won't look. Does it hurt though? You need any meds or anything?"

"Wowww, Polly. Look at you being so caring!"

Why did that statement make him blush? It was completely normal to obsess over someone who may have gotten a concussion!

"I have a bit of a headache. It's nothing severe. I think I'll try drinking some water before trying medicine. Thank you, though."

"Okay. Do you need to rest a little? We have an emergency air mattress in the back room if you need to stay down."

"That would be nice, thank you. Could you help me up?"

He took her hand and pulled her up slowly, gently supporting her in each stage. The glove she wore was very cold and smooth where her fingertips were.

Mr. Wright helped them set up the air mattress. Wright had figured it was only a matter of time until it was used, since Athena didn't have a place of residence here. Trucy brought her a cup of water, and she dozed on the mattress for a while in the back room while Apollo worked on processing evidence in the main space. He'd gone back for that tapestry after Athena settled, and carefully processed it as evidence while making a note for the record of Athena's little accident just in case someone tried to present any of her DNA as evidence.

While she may be a little off her rocker, none of her genetic material was on that fabric when the crime happened. She was just more than a little unlucky.

Plus, she seemed pretty nice. It didn't seem like she had a murderer in her, crazy or not.

Although Kristoph Gavin had taught him a cold lesson in assuming people's ability and willingness to kill. He would never forget that lesson as long as he lived. He was honestly shocked with himself for trusting Athena so easily.

The fact that she practically unzipped her heart and dumped it unceremoniously in front of him definitely helped. Kristoph was reserved, and wouldn't wear his heart on his sleeve to save his life, much less dump all its contents out in front of a stranger.

Athena was probably fine. Probably not a killer. Probably not a psycho.

Even if some of the things she mentioned to him, like the cop-tossing reasoning, were arguably concerning.

But if some random man grabbed Trucy like that, Apollo would also want him getting flipped. Where the lawyer in Apollo cried out 'Objection!' the brother in him replied with 'If the same thing were to happen to Trucy...'

Eventually, the brother and lawyer made peace and decided to place Athena in the "Probably fine" category. Enough to be trustworthy, but definitely questionable in more than one way. It would help if he could see her thought processes just as easily as her heart. He was glad he didn't get flipped while a) carrying Athena back or b) while she woke up. Perhaps she'd already decided he was an honest man, if cynical. Likely with psychology.

He did hope her default language changed to English though. He wasn't sure if he could tell her that he only spoke English, or that his name was Apollo Justice, he was her co-worker, and they'd likely be assigned as pairs for most of their cases every. Single. Day.

Her presence reminded him of Lamiroir though. Without having one good reason why, he felt safer around both women. Which was unnerving, considering she was five years younger than him. Lamiroir at least gave off a motherly vibe, and was old enough to actually be his mother. Athena just made him feel like a bucket of contradictions.

He wanted to talk with her. At the least, about the trial starting tomorrow. He needed to know much more about her before he invested too much. He needed Gavin-proofing.

But for now, he would continue to analyze the crime scene and any head problems she'd sustained in her fall.

After all, her name is Athena Cykes.

And she's probably fine.

#athenacykes #ace attorney #fanfiction #booksivewritten #athena cykes #aceattorney #apollo justice #a man named terran #ashes remain #that one scene where athena yoinks the cop at apollo #tw blood #tw panic attack #apollo thinks athena is schizophrenic #if only a little bit #apollo has many many trust issues #big brother apollo justice #athena cykes the resident psycho

0 notes

tarotchariotpickyourcard · 2 years

Text

PICK A CARD: What colour is your guardian angel represented with, and why

Welcome once again, wonderful internet travellers.

I'm just here, nipping into your day, towing the angels into your life a quick mo. I don't know, just thought we would drop by. Hi.

As personally, I am a big fan (omg is that Archangel Michael?! Eeeee) of angels and love to work with them, I would love to potentially help create a bit of a moment for you and your guardian angel, as I believe we all have one with us.

Now, about the colour option. It's not going to be specific - it's going to dedicate a main colour, but it could be a different hue of it (for example, light blue) depending. It might be discovered more within the reading.

Anyway. On to the fun bit.

Firstly, of course we are wanting to get comfortable for a minute and have a bit of quiet if possible. So, take a few deep breaths and close your eyes if it's safe for you to do. Next, either visualise a number, or maybe yourself picking up the item, or see what draws your eye. There are many different ways to choose.

From left to right, 1 - 4:

Space cup - Peacock - Plant - WooHoo badge

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

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

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

GROUP 1: SPACE CUP

Your guardian angel had a lot to say, you got the most cards out of the bunch, let me tell you that. It might mean they're quite chatty, and if you communicate with angels some way, then you might get a lot compared to other people.

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

INDIGO

WHY THIS COLOUR?:

The indigo representation is something that connects with spirituality, and the weaving of life. This can be connected to the third eye, and this guardian angel might be working with you to strengthen and use it. This could also mean they support your use of clairvoyance. You might find that you daydream a lot or have visualisations, and this guardian angel might come to you in the form of images whether in dreams, art, during meditation etc. Maybe you actually do something creative, and they love to support you in that.

This guardian angel might show a focus on the expression of emotion through action. The card shows me their support of you to use emotions wisely, sit upon them and not sink. To create a point of view from them, but still be observant and witness life in your own unique way.

They work to help see the beauty in yourself, and in life. Where you view yourself (again with seeing) as imperfect, they view it as special personalisation of the being you are. They work to help you see the tapestry of life and your place within it.

Indigo to me personally, shows the workings of intuition, inner reflection, gaining a more spiritual vantage point of what happens in life as well as working wisely with the inner emotional world.

The owl again shows wisdom, and their tireless support and endeavour to get you to a higher vantage point not only in circumstance, but to view events and life in a more curious, adventurous way. Not to view things as simply "good", or "bad".

They work to communicate through the tough times to help you see more calmly and rationally so that you can overcome your more self sabotaging habits or behaviours. Very savvy energy.

They could also express colours of green around them with indigo, or a deeper purple hue.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

Discard any fears of success, and be willing to offer more than is expected of you.

The combination for this little message tells me you are either very creative, or you have what you consider a big goal in the way that it might intimidate you. Good. I get a very flat out "good". Your guardian angel wants you to acknowledge that the idea of doing something might be scary, because that means it hints to something outside of your comfort zone - in other words, adventure.

7 of cups is an idea, or planning card, but it can get to a point where truthfully? It can become procrastination. It's all well and good to talk about something, whether it's ideas or even expressing you can't do it because x y or z. But your guardian angel here seems to be extremely encouraging of you to go for things right now. It's time to stop thinking so much, because you might just think yourself into a hole stood there for so long!

Get excited, go for what it is you want. You are capable of more than you think.

I hope you enjoyed!

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

GROUP 2: PEACOCK

Very simple and straight forward energy is what I get from your guardian angel. No frills, here.

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

RED

WHY THIS COLOUR?

So, red is the base colour, however if you sense their colour representation it may vary from light red to even burgundy.

Page of cups for the why, is so interesting, because there are blues and purples in this card.

Oooooo. Oh, what a good feeling.

They simplify things. Your guardian angel is one to strip away the whys, ifs, buts or maybes. Their strength, why they represent as red is due to focus.

The vibe I get, looking at this card is akin to seeing someone hone in and meditate before a big event. Think a soldier before battle - think a boxer before going into the ring. I don't know if you play sports or have been active in fitness like that in the past, but if you wanted to, your guardian angel would be amazing support for the dedication and groundedness that it would require.

Regardless of physical fitness specifically (although if you wanted to gain better health, this guardian angel is amazing with that too), the traits that this colour reflects are those such as dedication, stability, resilience.

Your guardian angel might be a bit of a stickler for duty. If you need to do an obligation, you might get hints from them consistently. You'll get reminders often, I feel like you wouldn't get let off the hook if it was something important for you or your health.

This guardian angel is great for getting someone out of their head. It's choosing to look past emotions, dealing with high pressure situations or to push through and make something happen. I'm wondering if you are great in a crisis, or you seem to have gotten better at handling that kind of thing.

I hear "That's it now".

I just want to end this segment by saying your guardian angel is there for you to help reach all the goals, to meet all the needs. I would use the word cool.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

Forget what has already been and wake up tomorrow to a paradise of your own creation.

The woman on the card appears to have awoken, rejuvenated in a new morning. I feel like the message is, let the day be a new one. You can always begin again, right this moment.

I also get the feeling they are embracing you with more energy to be able to accomplish things in life.

And I got the thought of having ants in your pants (lol), so I believe they may be trying to get you moving. It's like having a coach. They want you to feel positive and renewed, and it seems the way they see it happening is by getting some momentum going in your situation or life, because I don't imagine a longer period of stagnation or quiet being your thing. Let them in to help cleanse you of older energy, so that you can awake again tomorrow feeling more fresh.

I hope you enjoyed this!

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

GROUP 3: PLANT

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

SILVER

WHY THIS COLOUR?

Firstly, I got the thought of either silver or more of a shining/sparkling white. This could also be mixed in with other colours present in the cards.

Silver can mean elegance, sophistication and grace. They may communicate very politely, or only specifically when you adress them. They may have a graceful way of movement. When I think of the shining white light as well, it makes me think of purity as well as cleansing. Your guardian angel might specialise with bestowing the grace of God, so to speak. (I want to assure you I am not bringing a religious God into the conversation. When I say God, I tend to mean source, universe, spirit.)

Your guardian angel may help with forgiveness and grace regarding other people and the self. They are able to specifically work very very well with others guardian angels to ensure a happier and more fulfilling outcome if possible, and if free will dictates.

With the 2 of swords here too, they are great for helping to reach the heart of a matter, and even discuss more difficult topics with you yourself, but also helping you converse with others. Maybe you find it difficult to collaborate, or connect with others emotionally. However, this guardian angel here seems to be one that will always guide you to the truth that is in your heart, and to sharing your truth with others regardless of what they think.

At this current moment, they might be specifically guiding you to forgiveness. Forgiveness doesn't make it OK - it is simply for the purpose of peace within yourself.

This guardian angel is amazing at helping to see through illusion, and even the way a person can delude themselves, especially through fear. This angel might tend to remind you of the love that spirit has for you, to encourage you to fully accept yourself and your true feelings. This angel loves to help rise above the ego squabbles that we can get into, and discover what is really the priority for all in the situation.

If you don't see yourself as great with working with others, you're being taught to.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

We couldn't know paradise if flowers refused to release their fragrance. Give your gifts freely.

Here, I get the thought of "I don't wanna". Strange.

I believe here, that they are guiding you to connect with your feelings on a level that you might find safe. Maybe it is hard for you to talk to people, so instead you get your feelings out through playing an instrument, like in page of wands. There is a lot inside of these characters, that they are creating an output for. They do not want you holding on to whatever you are clutching right now, whether that's feelings, or fear.

This could even be a fear of presenting yourself with your talent or skill in front of even one other person. If that's the case, they would like you to just start small - maybe present yourself anonymously if possible.

They are also saying, there is no one, true, and only desirable image of life, or how you should be in any capacity. People have different skills, and ways of expression. This is a gift, to us all. So share your own unique vision. What is your truth?

I hope you enjoyed!

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

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

GROUP 4: WOOHOO BADGE

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

YELLOW

WHY THIS COLOUR?:

Firstly, yellow can typically signify joy, childlike wonder, energy and friendship. This could mean that your guardian angel likes to enjoy things with you, likes to create fun opportunities for you and loves when you laugh.

Oooo, they love to weave magic and enjoyment into your hobbies, studies or work. They love to get the energy moving, and you may notice specifically when it comes to (oh, I got the word magnetic) the work side of things, there will be opportunities and synchronicities.

They might actually use spiders as a signal of hello. Or spiders might be special to you somehow.

This guardian angel (a bit like 2) is very good with enabling you guys with more energy to conquer obligations and anything you are juggling. This guardian angel specifically seems to be great with dealing with you when you get distracted, which is amusing. I get a very light energy here.

So there seems to be a balance of focus with your guardian angel, they like to create energy both for work and play. If you overwork or stress yourself, trust that your guardian angel will be nudging you or giving opportunities to have fun, and vice versa. I wonder if anyone in this group does yoga? I see a yoga move. Perhaps it would help you to be calm, yet still active. Perhaps that's an idea for good balance. Hey, maybe you want to improve your balance.

This guardian angel might show flecks of white, green and when helping you get things done, gold.

This guardian angel helps you to be sort of a chameleon - to adapt and adjust to life when necessary. What is best for you might be a different mix of activities or routine, depending on circumstance, and your guardian angel likes to help you understand that.

This is a very active angel, their focus is to ensure that there is always something there for you, no matter what route you go. This might also be reassurance that no matter what you choose to do, they will help tie loose ends and provide what you need.

They also like to focus on a sense of freedom, so if you have been feeling like going into the fresh air more, this might be them. If you suddenly get an inspirational feeling or remember the vastness of life, that is your angel reminding you.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

Let go of all limitations. You are creating a Goddess (or God) through living your life: Who are they?

Fragrant are the flowers that bloom when you smile and let go.

What did I say? Loves when you laugh.

These women on the cards look so peaceful and content with themselves. I think this is what your guardian angel wants for you.

They both note letting go - maybe you have been hard on yourself lately or pushing yourself. They may be wanting you to re-evaluate your priorities and see what you can leave totally, or leave for a period of time to replace with some rest.

Not only that, they seem to be encouraging you to envision your best life, and your desires. They will work tirelessly with you to make it happen, as long as it is for your highest good. For the most part, it's free will central. So let yourself decide where you're going, but let them help make it a wonderful journey ripe with beautiful possibilities.

Also, I'm seeing the idea of saying no to what takes a bit too much energy, for the sake of enjoyment as you deserve to really appreciate life, even the small moments.

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

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

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

Well, that's everything for this reading. I really hope it resonated, and you enjoyed. I hope this maybe inspires you to try and talk with your angels or even just say thank you to them for all that they do for us!

Until the next reading!

352 notes · View notes

engie-ivy · 3 years

Text

Remus is the uptight, swotty Prefect who's always getting the popular and beloved troublemakers Black and Potter in detention. Remus doesn't care what people say of him, and he absolutely doesn't care about Black's blinding smile.

A Book By Its Cover

Remus pulls his jumper closer around himself against the draught in the large, empty halls. The corridor is dimly lit and he hears nothing but the sound of his own footsteps. Everything is quiet. Too quite.

A loud clang suddenly sounds from behind one of the tapestries. Remus almost smiles to himself. Bingo. In a swift motion, he pulls away the tapestry.

Startled, Black whirls around. He’s surrounded by what appear to be paint cans and rope. His shock only last a moment, though.

“Lupin!” He exclaims, a beaming smile appearing on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. He makes an effort to keep a firm expression on his face, to show he’s not affected by Black’s notorious, blinding smile, like everyone else is. “Only pleasant if you like detention. And as for a surprise, I am a Prefect. I am supposed to be here making my rounds. So what are you doing here?”

“Preparing a prank,” Black says simply.

Remus doesn’t know whether he should be insulted Black doesn’t seem to take his authority very seriously, or glad that he doesn’t insult his intelligence by coming up with an excuse.

“Right,” Remus says, before taking out his notebook and pen. “Out of bed after curfew and engaging in illegal activity,” he scribbles down. “And where’s Potter?”

“Aw, am I not enough for you, Lupin?” Black pouts.

“I figured you could use some company in detention,” Remus replies smoothly.

Black clicks his tongue. “So thoughtful.”

“If you’re here setting up some prank, then it’s a given Potter is setting up that prank somewhere else in the school as well. So, where is he?”

Black shakes his head. “For you’re own good, Lupin, you don’t wanna put James in detention right now. People won’t be too pleased with you if the school’s football star misses the upcoming match against Slytherin thanks to you.”

“So thoughtful,” Remus repeats Black’s words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But please, don’t concern yourself over me. I’ve never cared what others think of me, and I don’t plan on starting now. And you basically just admitted Potter is currently doing something that would warrant me giving him detention, so you might as well tell me where he is.”

Black sighs. “This is why people call you uptight.”

Remus’ expression hardens. “If people care so much, they should be mad at Potter for risking the football match in the first place by playing some stupid prank.”

Black gasps dramatically and clutches his chest. “Stupid? Our pranks are not stupid! They’re works of art! Jumping out of a cake on miss McGonagall’s birthday? Hilarious! Making a zip line to go from one floor to the other? Brilliant! Filling the gym with stray cats, many of whom were eventually adopted? Genius! People love our pranks. They make people laugh and bring some excitement in their lives. Much needed excitement, because let’s face it, school is boring. Sitting there, listening to old people tell you things you already know.”

“For you maybe,” Remus mutters.

Black scoffs. “Don’t pretend you’re not one of the smartest people in our class, Lupin.”

Remus just glares harder at Black, to show that no, he doesn’t care that Sirius Black, whom people are always falling over themselves for to get even a bit of his attention, has apparently noticed Remus’ academic achievements. No, he doesn’t care at all.

“Even the teachers love our pranks,” Black continues. “They put some life into this place!”

“We’ll see what miss McGonagall has to say about it when I report you tomorrow,” Remus says calmly. “I’ll go finish my rounds, and when I get back, you better have cleaned up this mess.”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

“Wha...” Remus turns back, and his traitorous stomach flutters at how close Black is suddenly standing.

“Join us for one prank,” Black says.

Remus blinks at him. “Why in earth would I do that?”

“Because it’s fun! And honestly, Lupin, to me you always look like you can use a bit of fun.”

That catches Remus off guard. It’s true. Between struggling to get top marks, doing everything he can for extra credit, making sure he has a spotless record, excelling at his Prefect duties, and worrying about his sick mother, lately he often feels like just throwing his hands in the air and say ‘screw it all!’, and just do something crazy, something dumb or irresponsible. But he definitely never wanted for Black to notice that.

“Come on, Lupin,” Black says, as Remus stays silent. “Be part of the fun for once, instead of putting a damper on it.”

“Your childish pranks aren’t my idea of fun,” Remus bites back, feeling himself getting defensive.

Black just grins. “You won’t know that unless you join us for just one prank!”

“Why would you even want me to join you?” Many people would be lining up to be a part of one of Black and Potter’s infamous pranks. It’s beyond Remus why Black would ask that one stuffy guy who puts them in detention almost every week.

“Because I like you,” Black shrugs. “I like how hard you work for everything and how you don’t care what anyone thinks of you. And I think you secretly have a talent for it,” he adds with a wink, that absolutely does not make Remus’ knees go weak. “I bet you have a wicked side to you underneath all that swotty stuff.”

“But I’m a Prefect!” Remus argues. “I’m supposed to discipline rule-breakers, not break them myself!”

Black rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t take that job so serious.”

This rubs Remus the wrong way. “Not everyone can afford to treat everything in life as a joke,” he says coolly.

Black folds his arms over his chest and stares. “A fancy title and a badge and suddenly you’re better than us?”

“It’s nothing like that!”

Black huffs. “Then why is that bogus job so important to you?”

“Because some of us can’t afford to have even one note on their record if they ever want to get anywhere in life!” Remus snaps. “Because some of us need perfect scores and every bit of extra credit they can get if they want universities not to immediately bin their applications! Because some of us don’t have a last name they can flaunt, a daddy who can make a phone call, a mommy who can throw some money around, and suddenly you’re top of the list! Because some of us can’t just look at their rich parents and rely on them to always give them everything they want!”

The change in Black is instant. He takes a step back, and instead of his usual easy smile and bright eyes sparkling with mischief, his face becomes an ice-cold mask. “Fuck you, Lupin,” he hisses. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

He pushes past Remus as he storms off, leaving him behind feeling very confused. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Yes, the system is unfair and Black is privileged, but Remus supposes that isn’t really Black’s fault. He knows Black isn’t actually a bad person. His heart is in the right place, and he’s usually kind, only ever mean to people who, quite frankly, deserve it.

Remus just wishes Black would stop with those bloody pranks.

Remus just wishes Black would continue with those bloody pranks.

Or do anything really that makes him seem more like his old self. Remus never thought he’d miss that loud, barking laugh, that infuriating smirk, those lame puns so much.

Ever since everyone returned from Christmas break, Black has completely withdrawn. He hardly talks to anyone, he just sits silently, his eyes staring off in the distance and his expression blank. Potter is always by his side, softly talking to him or just throwing him worried glances.

Since then, it has been the talk of the school, and even in the papers and on the news: Sirius Black has been removed from his parents’ custody. It was a messy affair, the police has even been involved. Black’s father was arrested on grounds of child abuse. Apparently, Orion Black, the noble and well-respected patriarch of the prestigious Black family, has a habit of beating his son. It must’ve been going on for a while, but over the break it escalated. People just can’t get over how Sirius Black’s life wasn’t as perfect as it always seemed to be.

Remus feels bad for Black, and especially feels like an idiot, having said the things he said. He knows he owes Black an apology. It has been a couple of weeks since the break ended, and the apology is beginning to be long overdue. Though he also knows that Black has probably not been waiting for an apology from the uptight twat that always gets him detention.

Maybe it’s more to ease his own consciousness that he hesitantly approaches the table where Black is sitting. Potter glares at him the moment he sees him, and half gets out of his seat, probably to tell him to piss off, and rightfully so. However, after a quick glance at Black’s face, who’s looking up at Remus, he sits back down, as if he sees something on his friend’s face that makes him chance his mind.

“Bla- Sirius,” Remus says, realising a tad late that Sirius might nor want to be reminded of his family name right now. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I said some shitty things to you, and I shouldn’t have. You were right, I didn’t know anything about you.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius says softly. “You had good reason to be angry, it’s a rather fucked up system. And you didn’t know. Didn’t know that I would’ve gladly given up all that privilege to just have parents who... who love me...”

Sirius’ voice falters and he trails off. Potter is staring at him wide-eyed, and also Remus is surprised. He knows Sirius hasn’t talked about it to anyone, and he feels almost guilty he’s saying it to him of all people. He’s also surprised at the overwhelming urge he has to pull Sirius into a hug, hold him and tell him they never deserved him anyway. He has to leave before he does anything stupid.

“I should go,” Remus says quickly. “If there’s ever anything I can do...”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

Remus turns back to look at him.

“Join us for one prank.”

“Why would you want me to join you?” Remus asks, much like the first time.

“Because I like you,” Sirius replies, much like the first time, only where he had then sounded nonchalant and slightly amused, he now sounds pleading and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Remus says hoarsely, because his Prefect duties suddenly don’t seem so important compared to helping Sirius come back to his old self. “Yeah, I’ll join you for one prank.”

And then the most amazing thing happens: for the first time in weeks, Sirius Black smiles. It’s only a small smile, but the room already seems a bit brighter. In a moment of vivid clarity, Remus knows that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that boy smile.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #boarding school au #prefect remus lupin

228 notes · View notes

nnightskiess · 3 years

Text

‧₊° 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲...

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

“I’m going back, you guys.”

Her Slytherin friends raised their eyebrows.

“I’ve gotta study.” She quickly explained.

Pansy let out a snort and took a sip of her butterbeer. Of course Pansy would be able to see through her, but Y/N thanked her silently for not speaking up about it when their eyes met. If only Pansy knew the real truth behind her lie.

“Have fun.” She sang out teasingly, guessing Y/N was off to sneak around with someone she had a crush on.

Y/N’s feet dragged through the snow as she walked to the secluded part of Hogsmeade, to the Hog’s Head Inn. She crossed her gloved fingers, hoping she was on time and that they would actually let her in and let her listen to what Harry Potter had to say. Y/N didn’t fit the stereotypical Slytherin mould, but no matter how hard she tried to prove that, she seemed to always be considered like a bad guy. Sure, her choice of friends obviously didn’t help her case, but still, didn’t she deserve to not be judged because of that?

Y/N hoped this wasn’t just some way to make Harry believable after all that The Daily Prophet had said about him, or to share his stories to make him even more famous. But if Hermione Granger was there, then it must be serious. She didn’t know the girl personally but knew far too well how much the bushy haired girl detested Umbridge and her teaching as well— or the lack of her teaching, for that matter.

So when Y/N heard Zacharias Smith being persuaded by one of his friends to go to the meeting, she knew she needed to be there, too. If it was bullshit, she’d be out of there in a second. If it wasn’t, she hoped they accepted whatever kind of help she could offer. So, deciding to give them the benefit of the doubt, she marched up to the front door of the Hog’s Head.

Y/N silently cursed to herself when all eyes suddenly focused on her. How could she have been so dumb? Of course she should’ve walked in long before the rest, now they would obviously not say another word, too afraid she was one of Umbridge’s spies.

Harry pursed his lips, stopping himself from continuing. Ron looked mad and Hermione seemed confused... intrigued... impressed? All of the fore-mentioned? Y/N couldn’t quite tell.

“Bugger off, you!” Ron gave her a nasty look.

Y/N had been expecting this, but maybe not from Ronald Weasley.

When Ron noticed she didn’t make a move to leave and instead took off her green scarf and mittens, he stood up, his ears red from anger.

“Come on then, leave!”

Y/N tried to stay calm, not liking his approach, and held up her hands, taking a measured step closer.

“I’m not here to spy on you, trust me.”

He stood up, his fists balled up in rage, “I find it hard to believe a girl like you would just stop here to get a drink, on her own no less.”

“A girl like me?”

“Yes! Where are your bloody friends?” Everyone raised their eyebrows at Ron’s newfound hostility. No one knew, not even Y/N, but the hatred towards the girl was partially because her father had humiliated Arthur Weasley plenty of times at work.

“Ronald!” Hermione shook her head and pulled at his arm, trying to stop him.

“No one sent me. I’m here because of the meeting.” She looked around the pub, saw the man bandaged up in rags, the weird bartender who was cleaning the filthy glasses with an even filthier rag and then looked back at Ron, “I wouldn’t go here voluntarily.” She let out a breathy chuckle but realised everyone was still on edge. She clenched her jaw at the many disgusted looks sent her way.

“What meeting? We’re just chatting with each other.” Harry tried to play dumb but Y/N immediately rolled her eyes. How pathetic.

“I overheard some of you talk about it. You should really be more discreet, you know?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, cursing whoever had been so careless and also hating the feeling how he felt like she lectured him, as if he was some child. When no one said a word and when they kept looking at her in disgust, her anger rose.

“Do you think I would spy for the woman who ruined my mother’s career, who made me carve words into my hand for detention and who fails to teach us anything and ruins the school a bit more every week?” Her rambled confession caught everyone off guard. “I might be a Slytherin but no one knows me here so why is your first approach so hostile? You wouldn’t have treated me like this if I was sporting a yellow scarf instead of a green one. Would you, now?”

Hermione admired how she had so fiercely tried to prove her case and suddenly remembered that Y/N had bought one of her S.P.E.W. badges the year before. She had been one of the few who had and remembered being surprised then, too. It was weird, but Hermione believed the girl’s intentions were true.

“She’s right.” She spoke, “Besides, we need all the help we can get.” She gestured for the girl to sit down, who took a seat at the back, trying to ignore the many stares still sent her way. Meanwhile Hermione tried to ignore the glares sent her way.

A week later, while Y/N was sitting in the windowsill of the Hogwarts library, trying to study for Potions class, Hermione hesitantly approached her.

“Hi, there, um- excuse me,” The Gryffindor cleared her throat, making Y/N look up from her book. She leaned in closer after making sure they couldn’t be overheard, “The first meeting is this Thursday on the seventh floor. The door’s a hidden entrance opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Just think of the meeting and the door will appear.” Hermione rushed out in a whisper.

Harry and Ron had both still been hesitant letting Y/N join, but after Hermione had scolded and lectured them about giving the girl a chance, they begrudgingly agreed. However, Hermione had to bring the news to Y/N. They still had their doubts about the Slytherin girl who was friends with the likes of Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.

Y/N smiled softly, “Thank you.”

After a week of radio-silence, she had come to terms with the fact that they hadn’t been too keen on letting her join after all, so this was a pleasant surprise.

“I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself— besides the awkward introduction at the pub.”

Hermione smiled meekly.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Hermione.”

The two shook hands quickly before Hermione excused herself, “I should probably go again. It might raise questions if we hang out together.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Because she was a Slytherin? Because she was supposed to be a mean girl who would never hang out with a mudblood like her? Though Hermione probably hadn’t meant it in a wrong way, it hurt Y/N more than she would like to admit.

“Do you need that?” Hermione pointed to the book discarded at Y/N’s feet. Y/N shook her head slowly.

“Okay, then... let’s just pretend I came to borrow it from you. See you on Thursday.”

With one last look over her shoulder, Hermione had disappeared again behind the many bookshelves.

Thursday night rolled around and Y/N was on her way to the seventh floor. It was a long walk from the dungeons, so she had left long before 9pm just to be on time. Two Ravenclaws who she had seen at the meeting, walked in front of but Y/N decided not to join them, they probably still hated her.

“Y/N!”

Pansy’s loud voice echoed through the empty hallway, making the two Ravenclaws turn around. When they saw Y/N with Pansy, they immediately quickened their pace. She wasn’t sure if it was because they were scared of Pansy, or if they wanted to hurry and tell Harry Potter that Y/N was up to something, that they couldn’t trust her because she had been with Pansy Parkinson right before the first lesson. Contrary to popular belief, Y/N actually hadn’t told anyone and wasn’t planning on doing so either.

“Sneaking off again?”

An arm wrapped around her shoulder and Pansy gave Y/N a playful nudge in the stomach. Y/N let out a laugh and pushed her off,

“None of your business.”

Pansy gave her a look, the corners of her mouth lifted up into a smirk. “The dungeons are downstairs, you know? No need to slither your way through the seventh floor.”

“Look who’s talking!”

The raven-haired girl rolled her eyes, “I’m a prefect, remember? I’m allowed to roam the halls, even after curfew, and no one would be allowed to question a thing.”

“I see you’ve been taking advantage of it.”

“And you wouldn’t?”

Y/N shrugged, “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You didn’t seem to complain when I gave you ten points for doing my homework.”

The two laughed, “Fine, okay. It’s useful. Though I still think I deserved 15 points for that. You know how much I hate History of Magic.”

“Then you should’ve just said no.” Pansy let go of her arm and stopped walking, “I’m going back. Have fun.” She smirked again and left Y/N.

The Slytherin received a few confused looks when she stepped into the Room of Requirements. No one had believed Y/N had been serious or that the Golden Trio had actually dared to give her a shot. Some students seemed less hostile around her but Y/N knew they were still being careful. So it came as no surprise to her when everyone had to pair together, which led to her standing alone, along with Neville Longbottom.

The boy’s eyes widened in fear when he realised who he had to pair up with. He was already nervous enough, he wasn’t great at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and having to try and disarm Y/N lessened his shot at success even more.

Harry noticed the boy’s panic, quickly realising Neville needed a friendly face in front of him so he could relax and try and do his best. He waved Ron over and then left to watch the others, without another look at Y/N who still stood alone, playing with her wand to feel less awkward. No one seemed to notice, and if they did, they probably didn’t even care.

Hermione let out an irritated sigh when she realised what had happened and told the girl she was practicing with to join the Parvati twins. She made her way over to the Slytherin, still unsure how to approach her, but did so nonetheless.

“You can pair up with me... if you want to, that is..” She quickly added the last part, unsure if Y/N hated mudbloods as much as her friends did, they seemed to hate Hermione’s guts because of it.

Y/N let out a relieved smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione, and followed her so they could have more space.

They practiced in silence for a few minutes, both girls impressed by the qualities of the other, before Y/N opened her mouth to talk.

“I feel like a freak show.” She let out a breathy but awkward chuckle, making Hermione stop her movements. Y/N felt all their eyes on her, even if her back was turned their way. Hermione smiled sympathetically, seeing everyone glance at the Slytherin girl every few seconds.

“Just ignore them.” Hermione immediately realised how cliché and stupid it had sounded and tried to better herself, “I-I mean- It’s a compliment really... They... they must keep staring at you because you’re obviously incredibly talented and they feel challenged by that.”

Y/N smiled softly at the rambled reply, “I doubt it’s because of that, but it’s a nice thought. Thanks, Granger.” She knew the girl was only trying to make her feel better. And she had, she was the only one who had tried to accept her, after all. Even if it felt off or if the rest of her friends were against it.

“I don’t know what they all told you, but I promise that I mean well.” Y/N cleared her throat. “I know my house and my choice of friends alarms some of you, but we don’t always see eye to eye on most things... I don’t care that you’re a mudblood, for example.” Hermione looked up, taken back. “If anything, it makes you special. I would like to know more about muggles but my father doesn’t want me to meddle with that world. I just think the unknown scares him.” She continued when Hermione was still searching for a proper reply. She was intrigued by everything Y/N was telling her. “There are more like me, you know? But they’re just too scared to show their true beliefs or to speak up. Some have done it though, but they’re seen as the odd ones out. They are being bullied every time they enter the common room, mostly by Draco.”

Hermione rolled her eyes— of course. Y/N took notice of her reaction and immediately felt the need to protect her friend. “He’s not that bad. I mean, I know he bullies you but... in reality, I think all of us are just pressured to be or think a certain way by our parents and the moulds the other students put us in. It’s not easy being good when everyone treats you like you’re the bad guy.” Y/N’s voice died down.

“That’s still not a reason to bully someone.” Hermione’s voice was soft.

“I know.”

“I’m guessing you were too scared to speak up, then?” She guessed, since it came as a surprise to everyone that Y/N had good intentions and was one of them.

Hermione’s harsh voice hurt Y/N more than she wanted to.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But would you ever tell Pansy or Draco that?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, “No, of course not. I swore to never tell anyone about Dumbledore’s Army, everyone has sworn secrecy, right? Besides, they think I’m not serious when I say I don’t care about someone not being pureblood. They wave it away like I just made a sarcastic joke.”

Hermione looked down swiftly, realising she had lashed out for the wrong reasons.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N waved it off with her hand, “It’s fine. I’m sure more people will attack me for it in the future. That’s if they dare to talk to me first... do I have a tail or something?” Y/N playfully looked behind her and wiped her bum, “Horns?” She combed through her hair. “They keep on looking!”

Hermione shook her head in amusement. “You look more than fine, there’s nothing wrong with your bum.” Her eyes widened immediately, her cheeks turned scarlet, “Or your hair!” She quickly added.

Y/N laughed heartedly, signalling for Hermione to stand tall again so they could continue practicing.

*.·:·.☽✧

Y/N fumbled with the fake Galleon in her hand, waiting for the new date to appear. She was starting to enjoy the meetings of Dumbledore’s Army. Through the weeks, everyone had paired up with her at least once and they quickly realised she was no threat. She was finally at a point where they didn’t walk away from her. Instead, they now laughed at her jokes and smiled proudly when Y/N encouraged them. They still had to appear like strangers outside of the Room of Requirements. Y/N hated it. She had made new friends and wanted nothing more but to sit with them during lunch, or help them study. Hermione had done her best to make Y/N feel at home within the group, and Y/N couldn’t lie to herself— she had started to fancy the Gryffindor. Sure, she had found her very pretty before, when all she could do was sneak short glances at the girl during class, but she would have loved to sit in the library together, go to Hogsmeade and really get to know her. But that would raise too much questions, and she wasn’t sure if she could explain this one to Pansy, Draco or Blaise.

“That’s all, you guys. Have a nice Christmas break!”

Everyone left the Room of Requirements in little groups, as Harry inspected the Marauder’s map, waiting for them to arrive in their common rooms before checking if the coast was clear for another group to leave. Y/N could’ve joined the Hufflepuffs to the dungeons but Harry had advised against it. Seeing Y/N with them would for sure raise questions with the other students who didn’t know of the existence of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class. He would never admit it out loud, but he too had warmed up to the Slytherin girl. She was skilled and could help out the others when he needed a hand.

Hermione felt Y/N appear next to her, looked up and gave her a soft smile. They were waiting for the Hufflepuffs to arrive so that Y/N could go.

“Um-” Y/N started, “Did you know Umbridge told her High Inquisitors to try and find out our plans?”

This got Hermione’s attention.

“I mean, I only assumed... That’s why she named them in the first place, right?”

“Yeah, Draco, Pansy and the others talk about it all the time. How they want to catch you guys— especially Potter.”

“Oh...” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, realising that this might become a problem later on. Their luck would run out soon. “I’m sorry, it must be hard to sit there and lie to your friends.”

Y/N shrugged, “I knew what I signed up for when I joined.” She twirled her wand through her fingers, one of her habits, and hoped what she was going to say next wouldn’t be a wrong move,

“I could tell you what their plans are? Inform you when they are up to something, maybe mislead them... and that kind of stuff...”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, shocked that Y/N had the guts to go that far, to betray the friends she’d had since first year.

“I mean, that would be very useful but... Are you sure? If they ever find out-”

“I have to be careful around Pansy, she reads me like an open book, but I think I could get it out of Draco when he’s gloating about it again.”

“But when word gets out, you’ll be the only Slytherin, you’re the only one out of all of us who hangs out with them. They’ll know it was you.”

“If we do nothing, we risk getting caught. Besides, it would finally rid all of the doubts the others might still have about me. You know they’ll point at me the moment Draco or the rest finds out about this. They’ll think I finally caved and told Umbridge.”

“It’s not worth it. You don’t have to prove anything, not to me at least. I know you’re not like that now.” Hermione started to feel bad. “Your friendships and relationships with everyone in your house, or with your parents, should not be put on the line for that.” Hermione had a feeling that Y/N’s father would most likely skin her alive if he ever found out.

“I insist.”

Hermione saw the persistent look in her eyes, knowing she was not going to let someone change her mind, not even Hermione. Y/N was after all a Slytherin, and if she wanted to go for something, she gave it her all until she reached her goal.

Harry called her name and waved with the Marauder’s map— it was her time to go.

“Alright, just... be careful about it. Please?”

One curt nod sent Hermione’s way and she left the Room of Requirements, leaving Hermione with a bad feeling in her gut.

*.·:·.☽✧

“You’ve got me really curious.” Pansy opened the drapes around her bed in a flash, startling Y/N. “You’ve been hooking up with this person for weeks now and you won’t even give me a single hint.”

Y/N shrugged. “I thought you liked riddles, go figure it out then.”

Pansy groaned in annoyance, falling back onto her bed as she stared at the ceiling.

“Can’t, got no time. Umbridge has us patrolling the seventh floor the whole night.”

Y/N froze immediately. Another meeting was about to start in an hour, they couldn’t be seen.

“Why?”

Pansy propped herself up on her elbows and looked at her friend, “To get Potter and his goons, of course?! Apparently this girl, Marietta Edgecombe, told Umbridge all about it.”

Y/N tried to mask her surprise and anger and realised she needed to do something quick to try and steer Pansy to a dead end.

“Are you sure it’s the seventh floor? I thought I heard gossips about it being near the Owlery, in one of the abandoned classrooms. No one goes there because Peeves roams the hallways.”

Pansy tilted her head, realising Y/N’s reply had been way too detailed.

“Don’t tell me you have another romantic meeting in one of the broom closets tonight on the seventh floor.” Pansy examined the expression of her friend but continued talking, “Don’t worry, we’ll be looking for a hidden room. I reckon we won’t be checking any broom closets tonight.” She gave her a wink, but saw that Y/N still seemed on edge.

“I need to go.”

“Go where?!”

But Y/N had already left their dorm room and rushed out of the Slytherin common room, trying to reach Hermione.

“Can you please get Hermione Granger? Or Harry Potter, or Dean or Parvati- really, anyone is fine!” Y/N needed to tell them or it was too late. But the Fat Lady pursed her lips and Y/N saw her eyes take a quick glance at her green Slytherin tie. She let out a huff and faced the other side.

“Please! It’s urgent!”

The Fat Lady started to sing to try and ignore her, but Y/N wasn’t going to give up so easily and started banging on the wall, hoping it would somehow be heard in the common room.

After half a minute of banging, the Fat Lady turned to her, annoyed. She was about to complain when a third-year Gryffindor student walked out. He looked taken back when he saw the girl stand there and was unsure of how to react.

“Is Hermione Granger in there? Or any of her friends?”

He looked her up and down, trying to see if this was another attempt at pranking one of the Gryffindor students. However, he soon saw the honest desperation in her eyes and shook his head hesitantly.

“No, I saw them all leave a while ago. You just missed-”

Y/N bolted up the stairs, she needed to stop them. Part of her was hoping Umbridge wouldn’t be able to find the hidden room, but she knew better. The toad would just wait long enough until they all left eventually. Hell, if it were up to her, she would probably sit there for days if needed, just to get the satisfactory that she had caught them.

But when she rounded the corner to the hallway, she saw Harry and his friends being dragged away by Umbridge and her Inquisitors, Hermione included. Y/N saw Draco and Pansy and immediately ducked back around the corner, but the sudden movement had caught Hermione’s eye. When Y/N peeked her head around the corner to see where they were taking them, her eyes met those of Hermione. She shook her head in disappointment, which to Y/N, was much worse than if she had been raging with anger. Y/N realised what Hermione was thinking right now and wanted nothing but to round the corner and tell them she had been trying to warn them, not rat them out. Though she had always told them she was not like the rest, something in Y/N stopped her from stepping out into the hallway. The realisation of losing her friends and disappointing her parents suddenly weighed heavily on her.

The doubts Hermione had had in the beginning, the ones she had just as easily neglected after getting to know the real Y/N, suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks. This had been the bad feeling in her gut. Y/N had betrayed them after all, and Hermione had fallen right into her web of lies. What hurt even more than the tight hold Pansy Parkinson had on her shoulder and arm, was the realisation that she slowly started to develop feelings for the same girl who had now betrayed her.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

#hermione granger #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger imagines #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger one shot #hermione imagine #hermione x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shots #hermione blurb #hp imagine #hp imagines #harry potter imagine

353 notes · View notes

namjoonchronicles · 3 years

Text

worst | hs

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 1.9k

↳ summary To think that the world has conspired for you to love Hoseok is highly unlikely, but everything is possible with a little faith.

↳ song pink sweat$ ‘at my worst’

↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge is 4/7 done, I had much fun with this one and I toyed around a concept I have been trying to write better off. Enjoy <3

I need somebody who can love me at my worst. No, I’m not perfect but I hope you see my worth.

Soulmate. The concept is mesmerizing. To think that there’s such a person for each and everyone, that one person that was created by the universe specifically for you. From the time that they were born, down to the events that happened which led them to you, they are all orchestrated in order for you to meet. You always thought that those who eventually found their soulmate are the luckiest person in the world. Like you said, the concept is mesmerizing. To think that the stars in the sky, conspired for Hoseok to happen. How he is a gift to your dull life.

Even as he is jumping on the couch and walking towards one end to the other when his feet were vacuumed by the robot vacuums that he himself bought. You wiped your face down. “I get it now, why you said it was scary, I get it now,” Hoseok yelped. You puffed your cheeks at him. You’re pointing the remote at the screen, swiping on the Netflix, before you paused to look at him. He was sitting beside you, hiding his face behind the striped cushion. “Are you sure you want to watch this with me? You’re absolutely sure?” your brows knitted as you grew doubtful. There’s a number of movies on your watch list but you had been wanting to watch Alice in Borderline since you heard about it. It stirred your interest, knowing that your friends have a knack of watching good movies. Your husband must have watched the thriller without you because he looks traumatized. You feel sorry for him and tell him again that he doesn’t have to do this with you if he doesn’t want to. “What do you want me to do? Sleep in the room alone while you watch it here?? That’s even more scary, sleeping alone…” he pouted. Voice muffled, hugging the cushion like his life depends on it. “I’m strong…” he said, enthusiastically. Before he tracts back into the cushion, putting on his defensive mode. You laced your fingers with him and leaned your head on his shoulders. He jumps at every scare, and hurls the cushions he could get his hands on, then screams his head off when the jump scares arrives. You’re so different from him. He doesn’t really like coffee and only drinks them when he needs to. He would walk into the room and be friends with everyone just by smiling. And in communication, he would much rather speaking out front on what he wants. He is excellent at reading the room but unlike you, he doesn’t dwell on the softer side and the easier way of solving things, instead, he focused on solving the problem and it didn’t matter what it looked to others. His goals are immaculate and crystal clear. He will fight hard for what he wants and even if he is shaken by the pernicious stage of it all, he will give it, his entirety. The way that he is fierceless, firm and throttling towards his goals are admirable. He might be pulling your PJs by the sleeves in an attempt to hide from the monster in the screen, sweating profusely and chanting your name; but this much is true, he would do anything for you. You remember it so clearly, these hands that hold you so tight, his wedding band shimmering in the dim light, was the same that rainy night. Those veins protruding, wet from the heavy rain, dripping down his chin and determination in his eyes--as he held the door open. Leather jacket, black shirt, black damaged jeans. His black Chelsea boots marched forward, had you cornered on the wall behind the door. Pinched your chin so gently, his lips ghosting over your cheek, to finally trail down on your lips. Strange it was that it wasn’t him that was shivering, it was you. He had his eyes fixated on the view of your Cupid’s bow. “Do I believe in forever, you say?” he smirked against you, “Of course no.” He clasped your lips with his own, exhaling hard through his nostril and moaning in your mouth while his hand ravages all over your body. He shifted his hand down your arms to the phone you’re holding and left them on the kitchen counter. “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he growled. It’s really hard to string that Hoseok to this one. When he gestures for you to keep your arm around him so he sleeps better. When he pulls the chair you sat on so you could be closer. When he writes little love notes on every surface you touch. When he sends bouquets of flowers at work or at home. When he wanted a couple shoes that matched the couple shirts with the couple phone case. When he stole a spoon of your ice cream when you stole his. When he threw glances across the room at you and looked away smiling. Or when he insisted on driving you home that late night in September after a barbecue party when you looked like a mess and smelled like charcoal. When he dropped on one knee to tie up your shoelaces in the middle of the mall. When he spent his day searching for the laptops with you even when he doesn’t know much about technology and was texting Yoongi at every tech terms he had never heard of. It’s easy to dismiss the love you are poured with when you’re the one receiving. It’s easy to look over the details of the meticulous feeling one would carefully thread. Hoseok was, to put simply, a tapestry torn at the seams. His family was not supportive of his passion for dancing. He ran away at a young age to fight. On Christmas, he was asked why he didn’t return home and he swiftly walked away without answering. The answer was, he didn’t know where home actually was. A home was supposed to make you feel safe, to make you feel at ease, protected and loved for being yourself. His home was anything but that. He was at war with himself for the longest time. Left his emotion behind for as long as he knew. Filled with ambitions from early on, Hoseok had nothing to lose, or so he thought. You could not have interfered at the worst time. He danced till his body broke. The sores and bruises that covered his body, they were the badges he wore. As he lay motionless on the hospital bed, tears trailed down the tails of his eyes, staring helplessly on the ward’s ceiling from the pain he couldn’t speak of, he whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.” The loudest whisper you’ve heard him let out. “What are you saying, Hoseok?” you uncrossed your arm and sped to the side of his bed, fingers clawing on the edges, “Have you not seen yourself on stage? You’re the happiest on it… You forget everything else, even this pain.” You clasped Hoseok’s knuckle, looking hopeful into his eyes, “You were born to be on stage, you’re a performer, I refuse to let you feel like you’ve turned every stone. You haven’t. You mustn't give in… Pain is temporary.” Life is regret. Life is all about regretting the choices we didn’t make. Life is also about accepting the regret we feel from the same choices. And if it means to tell yourself over and over again, that this is good for you, one day, you might eventually believe them. For all that you care is if when the storm comes and swept everything you know away, it’s Hoseok’s hand you want to hold on to, it’s Hoseok’s eyes you want to get lost in and it’s his voice you want to live on for. Maybe that’s what soulmate is. Maybe soulmate is a person created by the universe specifically for you, for you to fight head on with, for you to nurture, for you to lose your mind at so they can put you back together. Maybe soulmate isn’t the perfect mirror of you, but a perfect contender for you. Maybe he is the one that showed you what exactly was wrong about you so you can be better. Maybe he is the one that calls you out on your mistakes so you could fix them. Maybe he is also the one who pulls you close when you’ve pushed him away. Maybe he is the one who wipes the tears he puts on you. Maybe he is the one that puts a smile on your face when the world is against you. Maybe he is the person who would fight the world for your hand. The concept of soulmate is again, mesmerizing. To know just how much the universe cared enough for you that they conspired to create a soul for you, from the beginning of time. They say their names are written on your palms when you were conceived. With these dazzling thoughts, you took Hoseok’s hand in yours, examining each line that crosses its path. “What is it?” He lets you, he himself munching on cereals. You zoomed into his palm more, tracing the lines. “They say, the name of the soulmate is written on the palms, I am trying to see if mine is on yours,” you monotonously explained. Hoseok stares at your head and slowly, but surely, a smile grows on his face. His cheeks rose and his ears turned red. He didn’t fight you off and even encouraged you on it. “Do you see it? Is it in english or kanji? Hangul?” He teased you. You dropped his hand when you realised that he was joking with you. He protests, “Why did you put them down? Keep holding on to my hand…” “I had a really good dream last night, but because you’re being mean to me, I am not going to tell you what it was…” you told him in a sing-song voice. He pesters you. Pouting and poking your sides relentlessly. You usually share with him your strangest of dreams. Sometimes they are the exact opposite of what happened. But the way he listened, and the face that he wore always encourages you. Hoseok listens with his whole body. “I dreamt of you in the kitchen. You have a baby draped over your shoulder and it was crying, and you were cooing it gently,” you told him. He paused for the longest time. He took one spoon of milk from the cereal and sip on them slowly. He lifts his face up, thinking and glancing over the clock on the wall and he said, with a serious face and tone, “Are you sure it wasn’t Mickey*?” .

. *Mickey refers to Hoseok’s Shih Tzu dog.

57 notes · View notes

wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

Note

Hi Evoe, can I ask for you to write this MCxVinca fic? The request is where mc made deal with demons by giving up ability to feel touch to obtain darkness and light powers so she can keep up with Vinca and her friends. However, demon magic corrupt mc’s soul. Mc went dark and betray her lover by using Vinca’s knife to kill her so she can become Pride and take her mind reading power. Mc made it looks like it’s from Vuzgamad’s ambush and claimed that Vinca made her a successor before her death

PART 1

Written by: @evoedbd

WARNINGS: Violence Blood Broken Bones Psychological Abuse Verbal Abuse Strong Language A whistle Morbid Idolization (testing how this is received before putting the darker stuff out) *************************************

What Yvette dragged out of the bar was not human. Not anymore. It was a tapestry of torn, mutilated flesh. Of fury and indifference mixed into the most toxic being to draw breath. It was pain personified, five foot two and perhaps 100 pounds soaking wet worth of utter agony. Something so utterly twisted, so broken, that just a glance could cause tears to leak from one’s eyes like blood from a serial killer’s knife.

The woman’s head was almost entirely void of hair, covered instead by rows of raised scar tissue from hairline to the back of her neck. Burned and clawed into the skin. The faintest hint of grey bloomed between each row, stubborn black hairs regrowing amidst the pain. This only made the stark white tissue stand out more prominently, especially against bronze-tinged skin. The self-mutilation didn’t end there. Her now pointed ears were uneven, the healed edges bubbly with regrown flesh. Reminiscent of a goblin; an inhuman monster. It was not a clean, surgical modification. Instead, it appeared as if earrings had been torn from open wounds. Again and again until even calling her ears human was a stretch of the imagination. Through each was ring, jewellery far finer than her actual appearance. An echo from the past, of someone else’s past.

Rae Wren, or what was left of her, gave no fight. In fact, she strode with a wicked smirk across her lips, a glimmer of unnaturally sharpened, wolf like teeth gleaming behind blackened lips. The pattern of teeth continued along her lower face to her ear, carved like the lines across her head, then outlined with ink, each point a tattooed monstrosity representing those she had killed. They weren’t for human lives; those were far too simple. Too easy to erase and forget. To replace. One warm body was like another. Breakable. Disposable. Prisons of utter filth for her to pick and choose. It was almost like shopping for chastity belts or cock traps to keep her little demonic slaves in check whilst she played. And played, and played and played… or was it murdered? She didn’t even remember anymore. No, the wolf like grin permanently marked upon her flesh with scar and ink was very special. Each tooth was a life of host and demon both, of those who had seen the end. The final moments. The sacrifice. When Pride had become Rae’s mantle. When Rae had ceased to be anything and everything.

The other demons and humans had their places across her body. Each a line for the demonic veins that should have marked her body. Everybody knew she was a demon, even demons. At this point, she was a whisper in the realms of hell. The devil awaiting every demon who dared rise. Lucifer may have been the terror of man, but Rae, but the Proud Wren, was the terror of nightmares. It had once been said no mortal could make a demon beg, could make a demon fear or willingly return to hell. Rae had taken those words to heart, then proven otherwise. She had proven again, and again and again and again. Until her mere name was proof enough. Nevermind her loving attentions to her adoptive siblings.

But apparently someone still didn’t get the memo.

“You can’t keep doing this, Rae!” Yvette��s words were low, a hiss as much as a sigh. That was so Yvette. So broken herself, so naive. So hooked on her dreams and submerged in her fears. Once, Rae had admired Yvette’s strength. How she was unafraid and stood up to demons. Now… now Rae knew the truth. Yvette was the worst type of coward. She wasn’t even in denial. She was so utterly oblivious that it was almost laughable. Simply sitting next to Yvette for five minutes was a hoot. Popcorn worthy… if popcorn had still had flavour.

“I doubt anybody is going to stop me. You won’t.” Rae retorted, lips peeling further away from her teeth. The reveal of pink may have been a relief, a reminder of her humanity. Yvette flinched as Rae’s artificially forked tongue poked out, splitting around a splatter of blood across her lip. Blood which was not her own. Catlike, she lifted her bloodied knuckles to her tongue, smirking around her mouthful as she lapped at her tarnished skin.

“You’re going to get sick off of that.”

“Well, heaven won’t want me, and the devil has a restraining order against me.”

“Ever wondered what it must take for demons to fear you.”

“I did dethrone your pathetic little act, didn’t I? Hashtag, so sad.” Rae mocked, her lips turning into an exaggerated pout. One she emphasised with fingers pulling on the corners of her mouth and a sluggish drop of her shoulders.

“If you keep doing this, I won’t come for you. I’ll leave you to deal with the police again. Then you won’t get to continue your little vigilante act, Rae.” Yvette’s tone was firm, her brows lowered dangerously over blazing azure eyes.

Oh, it was adorable. A good effort. Truly. Solid jaw, dangerous eyes, crowding her space. All an A plus mark in big girl intimidation…

“You won’t.” Rae laughed, almost ready to collapse with her malicious mirth.

“You’ll try, sure, but we both know you’ll fail. You need me, Yvette. I’m sure only one who can ever truly understand you. The others try, they really do, but none of them have really been there… have they? You and I are the founders of the killed your girlfriend club… so, unless you want to encourage some homicide of the human variety, you’re stuck with me as your therapist. Of course, you could always fix that with just a little kiss. Get your special badge back.” Rae taunted, leaning a little closer with pursed lips, taunting further.

She was so close; Rae could feel it. The way Yvette’s body warmed, teasing Rae’s skin like sunlight on a spring’s day. Refreshing. Comforting. Just like a hug from the latest murder victim. Who cared if the hug was post-mortem… wait, perhaps the warmth was blood then… maybe Yvette’s little tantrum was more akin to demon dust fluttering across Rae’s naked body? Warm with death, ripe with fear and justice… the tingly kind of delightful. Fun and morally responsible. A two for one deal.

“You didn’t kill her. That wa-”

“My own deal to help save your girlfriends ass. I chose to help family and look where it got me. No family. No fiancée. Very little humanity. I’ve gotten more reward for hurting people than I ever got for helping… so thanks for the reminder, but you already know the drill. I’m naughty, you come play mommy, your breathing reminds me I lost everything I ever loved saving your sexy finger warmer. It’s a whole thing.” Rae sighed, pausing long enough to lift a hand to her shades between shrugs.

Cold, lifeless eyes gazed from behind expensive sunglasses, the ones from Vinca Wren’s last project. Rae’s eyes were so scarred, so utterly void of humanity that even Yvette shuddered. Rae’s pupil was more reminiscent of an ink droplet, running into the whites in little sickly veins. The pattern of an infection. What once had been soft, gentle browns had hardened, as if the pigment had been drawn from them until only the yellows of the shade remained. Rare veins and streaks of brown remained, lightning bolts within the everlasting storm of grief.

“If you hate me so much…”

“Why stick around? Oh Yvette, its nothing personal, babe. Pride’s honor.” Rae began, pausing to slide those precious shades into a hardcase hidden within her jacket. Her hands were so gentle with those shades, fingertips lingering as if she might project her touch through time and space, as if somehow Vinca might feel her affections. A moment the world allowed her before the sound of footsteps echoed. The snap of the case was the snap back to reality, a snap which echoed off of the old brickwork. The first beacon. The second was a silver whistle, chipped and worn, one which Yvette was already reaching to slap out of Rae’s hand as the fallen assassin laughed.

“You’re just the best bait.”

Then the whistle sounded.

A short blow, then a longer one, then a short one again. An SOS. One wavering with Rae’s laughter. The whistle sounded only thrice before it was slapped aside, Yvette huffing and puffing furiously.

“You’re a special kind of cunt, Rae!” The Greed assassin growled; decorum lost to her outrage. Rae could already see it, the torn loyalties waging war within Yvette’s blazing blue eyes. The misguided belief in Rae despite everything. It was so obvious, from clenching jaw to pained eyes, how desperately Yvette wanted to avoid this. How it pained her to let Onyx suffer around the corner, just as much as it pained her to war against Rae. In the past, Rae may have broken at such a thing, at such a display. At Yvette letting her heart beat for two sides. For a sister and a lover. Now, it was all merely an annoyance. Not what Rae needed.

“Dawww… don’t you want to go save your girl?” She cooed, before raising her voice.

“Here, puppy, puppy. We know you like it rough, so come play… I may not be Dorran, but I can probably hit as hard. I can even entertain your emotional whore kink!”

The shing of a blade leaving its scabbard was the only warning Rae had before she was sent staggering by a burst of heat delivered in a solid punch to the gut. Before she could even right herself, the slap of the scabbard across her face forced her back another few stumbling steps. There it was. The snap. The goal she’d had for weeks. Weeks of volatile behaviour. Misbehaving a little too close to Yvette’s secrets. Once, it was a line she’d never have crossed. Once, those young lives held meaning to Rae. All life did. Now? Now it was all ash in her mouth. A thirst she could never slake, not that she truly wanted to. Afterall, Assassins fought demons, and Rae had worked incredibly hard to perfect her mutilated appearance. To leave no illusions that she was truly a demon in human skin, even if none from the depths of hell would touch her… well, now she had her own little slice of hell. All fired up, enraged, protective even. Lunging with her blade with the intent to harm. Maybe this time, it would be enough.

Yvette was not like the other assassins. They all fought with a sense of honor. Each had things too low for their heroics. Yvette held no such qualms. She struck high and low, lunging and twisting. A single foot out of place was punished by blade and heels, driving Rae backwards. It was an exquisite dance. Duck. Weave. Twist. A thrust of Yvette’s blade. Countered by a duck and a jab to the ribs. A quick hand was at Yvette’s wrist, twisting her arm aside, tearing her guard down for Rae’s following punch to the tender gut. Break it down, bruise it, take the air from Yvette’s body. For her efforts, Rae received a backhanded slap in response. The echo of gloved hand against flesh was accompanied by matching screams, two immensely powerful individuals reduced to hissing and screeching like fighting cats in heat.

Yvette was again the first to strike out, a wild slash of her blade. Rae ducked, falling right into the precise thrust of the scabbard straight to the collar. She shoulda read that. It was too easy to reach out, to capture every thought flittering through Yvette’s mind. From there, it was a different dance. Yvette could no longer land the blows, yet Rae’s shorter range kept her from truly inflicting any harm. The dance switched from snakes slithering under one another’s guard and striking out with fast blows into wolves circling one another. Assessing. Manoeuvring. Rae didn’t need to keep her eyes on Yvette, in fact doing so was playing the game. So, Rae waited, allowing Yvette to slink around her, letting Yvette find the faux opening… then launch.

Yvette was fast. Rae was faster. A twist later she had her left arm hooked over Yvette’s, forcing the blade to pass her. A swift toss back of her head saw Yvette’s nose broken, bloodied. Tears blinding those remarkably clear blues. Snot and blood choking her. Rae followed through with her elbow, driving it straight into Yvette’s throat. It was calculated. Too hard would kill her, too gentle wouldn’t be enough to drop her. Greed fell to her knees, spitting blood over Rae’s boots. Pride wasn’t done. A tug on Yvette’s trapped arm had Greed falling into Rae’s rising knee. The blow sent Yvette sprawling to the ground, into the grease and muck like some common drug addict. Like the homeless orphan Yvette had once been.

“How does it feel, Yvette? To be back here?” Rae mocked, kicking the lethal blade aside. The clattering of the weapon filled the alleyway, a sound far too familiar for Rae. The Pride assassin flinched, drawing back from the sound for only a moment. Then, it was so much worse.

“Rae! STOP!”

Rae’s teeth clashed together, biting back the enraged scream as she turned towards her worst nightmare.

Onyx Wren. Five foot nothing of gorgeous blonde bombshell. A little fuckwit wearing the face of Vinca… only Onyx couldn’t wear it right. Her bold, neon makeup was a child’s game at beauty, like a toddler playing with mommy’s makeup from her teenage Scene phase. Onyx was all cherub and sweet, with eyes the colour of sunlight through an ocean wave. Figures Onyx would represent the water beneath the skies that Vinca embodied. She was never better than Vinca, never appreciative. She’d let Vinca endure it all. To save her own pathetic skin, Onyx had let Vinca be condemned. Over and over. Now, she pranced about, the good girl. The grieving sister. Forgiven for putting her abuser above Vinca, even in death. Onyx was the sister who let Vinca throw everything that truly mattered away and repaid her with vicious rumour.

She dared? She fucking dared! She dared show her face after everything, to rip into Rae’s chest all over again. It was a holocaust in her heart, memory after memory dragged into the chamber feeding her agony. Each felt like a death all over again. A blow to her chest unlike any physical pain. A lance into the side of a great beast, until said beast was reduced to a feral being. Onyx’s fucking face took Rae’s breath, brought her to her knees before the jeering crowd. It tore Pride down, leaving only a screaming, sobbing wreck behind.

“Fuck off!” Rae screamed, tearing her vocal cords with the strength of her cry. It was torn from her churning, bruised gut, loud enough to drown out the monotonous drill of cars. The former Mechanic howled, hands brought to her scarred head, nails dragging down the scars in practiced desperation. The teeth carved from the corner of her mouth to her ears began to glow, illuminated a deathly bone white. The glow spread, radiating across every scar, until the veins stood stark against her skin, a homage to the demon she swore was within. It was a terrifying duet with every tattooed line, shadows now. Or rather, the complete absence of colour and light. The void left behind in Rae’s heart given physical form.

“You have to let go, Rae. Please. We all lost-”

“I CAN’T!” Rae’s cry cut Onyx’s sentence short. Her hands fell to the ground, fingers clawing the asphalt as if she might find something, anything, to settle her tornado of an existence. On her hands and knees, the Pride assassin once more looked small. Broken. Defeated. So lost and helpless. Her back curled, shoulders caving beneath the weight of her angst. Her forehead met the ground, taking comfort in the greasy coolness for a few seconds before she defiantly lifted her head, fixing Onyx with a look of pure, seething hatred.

Envy looked cut to the bone, deeper than all of Rae’s torments. All her jabs and digs. Every secret she had gleefully sung to the other Assassins, publicly tearing Onyx down. Publicly shaming her, shaming all of them. All the assassins were fucking idiots. They hadn’t seen what was unfolding right beneath their noses, too content to gripe about a harsh leader as Onyx begged for him to stop. As she concealed his darkness to preserve a fantasy. As she was morphed into his little punching bag. His little victim. The Harley Quinn to his Joker. With Onyx’s secrets, Rae had torn all the Assassins down, brought them to their knees weeping, then strutted across the corpses of their self-esteem. She wasn’t Vinca. She didn’t care about these people. About what was right and wrong. They’d all condemned Vinca. All willingly cast her out rather than face reality. If they hadn’t, if Onyx had just spoken…

“It’s all your fucking fault.” Rae no longer sobbed, she snarled, a tapestry of shadow and light, a monster digging into Onyx’s brain, wrenching everything to the forefront in the hopes just one memory flashed across Onyx’s conscious.

“You may have been happy to let her go. I refuse to. I won’t. You’ll have to tear her from my cold, dead ha-” whatever melodramatics Rae had planned were interrupted by an enraged scream, followed by the swing of something straight into her temple. The Pride assassin teetered, forearms trembling to hold her weight for but a moment before she fell, surrendering to the abyss.

Perhaps this time, things would be better in the void.

****************************** 3 years Ago ******************************

She was so tired. It was something which went deeper than a mere sleep could repair. The weight of the world was constantly upon her shoulders; dragging her chest down towards her gut. Her heart felt as if every beat was sluggish, a constant painful rock in her chest, yet one she could not feel. Rather, she felt the absence of her heart, the pain stopping only there, whilst her lungs were further tormented. Even here, with sweat running down her body, leaving her hair stuck to her forehead as if it were a layer of paper mashe upon a child’s sculpture. Even with her blood rushing through her veins, muscles screaming with ever hurried stride she took, her heart did not warm. Each beat sent a pulse of cold through Rae’s body, a seeping despair she was continuously clawing her way out of. Only to find herself somewhere far… darker.

Tendrils of that darkness drove her onwards, pulling and pushing each muscle as Rae desperately just tried to stop. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was collapse, to fall into Vinca’s arms and just feel the embrace. Feeling. It wasn’t so long ago Rae had taken it for granted. Now, it was simply gone. Forever. It was her sacrifice for the abilities she had gained. For what had allowed her to save Vinca time and time again. What had allowed her to save Onyx, Vinca’s twin sister. The power over light and shadow, and the temperatures they could bring. Durability to stand against Vinca’s foes, the strength to protect. If only such a thing hadn’t cost so much. Touch. The ability to ever feel another’s touch ever again. It had rendered Rae’s hands useless, for no longer could she feel a pulse, nor how deep wounds were. Without touch, she couldn’t heal anybody. Couldn’t help them. Couldn’t feel when she hurt them. All she had ever been, gone. Taken from her in a deal she had barely understood in her desperation. She’d tried. She tried so hard to continue on. To pretend touch wasn’t so important. But, night after night, she watched Vinca’s pleasure without ever being able to feel it. She held Vinca close, without ever being able to feel her. The simplicity of holding hands was robbed from her. No, not robbed. She’d given it up in a foolish moment of insecurity, convinced it was to save Vinca’s life. To save Onyx’s life. That was a pretty small comfort now. She just wanted a hug, darn it! No, not darn it. Darn was close, but not what she truly wanted to say. Fuck it. FUCK. IT. She just wanted one fucking hug she could feel. Just one to remind her she was still tethered to this world.

“I’ve got you.” Vinca’s huff in Rae’s ear was accompanied by a sense of flying. Of floating. There was no more pain in her muscles, that migrated to her chest. She wanted to scream, to tell Vinca to stop. That this was wrong. This was all a trap. All dangerous. Something was screaming within her, writhing against the darkness, the tendrils… fighting to be the voice dominating her brain. Even that was murky. The river of the Nile running red with blood. Her blood. Vinca’s blood… maybe if it was Vinca’s she wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“-I wouldn’t be… I’d feel her again. Something. Anything. It’s not like she told me. Nobody told me! Vinca cheated this and couldn’t even tell me until I’d already paid the fucking price… does she really deserve- NO! Stop! What am

I doing? I love her! This isn’t me! I c-can’t hurt her!-”

Rae’s war didn’t end there. A droopy blink later, she registered the feeling of metal beneath her fingers. A kunai. One of Vinca’s weapons from her collar. The blade so close to Vinca’s jugular vein… whilst the Assassin was oblivious. So utterly clueless, or so utterly trusting of her devoted fiancée. Fiancée… they had a life together, a life to live. Years to figure this out. All Rae had to do was hold on, was fight as hard as Vinca had.

“It’s back, Vinc… I almost…”

“I know. Your heart isn’t cold yet, Unco, so stay with me. There’s still time, and I will never give up on you. It’s not our style.” Vinca’s voice was firm, the great wall of China between Rae’s doubts and her conscious. It was only the sound of lips smacking and the momentary loss of breath which let Rae know Vinca had leaned close, had pressed a kiss to her lips. What type of kiss? Was it one flavoured with desperation? Was it biting, Vinca demanding Rae’s submission? Was it tender and sweet? The brush of morning breath and vulnerability only Rae ever experienced? Bitter tears of frustration fell silently from her dark eyes, bathing Vinca’s shoulder as they continued further into the warehouse.

“Yeah… not our style.” Rae muttered in agreement. After all, what else could she do but believe?

28 notes · View notes

dopposhusband · 4 years

Text

I got recommended a whole bunch of Persona 5 fan palace themes so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Hypmic characters having palaces, so I thought I’d make a short list of who I think could/would have one.

Ichiro, I feel like his palace could be created at two points in his life, around the time his brothers still hated him, or when his brothers started to idolize him. He definitely is a good person at heart so I can’t see it growing from any malice intentions but rather just an inflated ego. I could see his palace being all of Ikebukuro but a distorted vision of it being his own stage, with his name and face plastered everywhere as their hero, everyone walks around cheering for him, waving glow sticks. There is no palace per say but rather intertwining streets turned into stages that lead to his home. His brothers would too fall victim to his distortion, turning them into loyal yes-men, his hype men, following him where ever he goes, reminding everyone that they should be lucky just to be in his presence.

Saburo, his palace would likely start to manifest around the time Rei came to reveal himself as their father. During this time he’d have to take a step back, Ichiro had lied to him, both of them about their father. Jiro could live, but I don’t think Saburo could, he doesn’t have much outside of Ichiro. Ichiro and Jiro are their own people, but Saburo is young and he hasn’t figured that part out for himself just yet, so I think he’d push everyone away, maybe be a lot more malicious with his hacking so he can force a name for himself. His palace would be a distorted illusion of his room, the place he feels most comfortable and safe. It would take on a futuristic, almost cheesy hacking style with a mix of more classic imagery such like pianos, organs, and sheet music. With intelligence being Saburos only saving grace it’s built like a puzzle, reliant on tons of trivia. Safe rooms would be Ichiro and Jiros own rooms. His treasure would be his mic, in a backroom filled with Ichiro and Buster Bros merchandise. Once his palace is defeated his treasure turns into a copy of Ichiro’s TDD era belt loop cord.

Samatoki, I’ll be real I have no idea

Jyuto, once with humble beginnings Jyuto slowly started to compile blackmail and got involved involved with higher powers with his control over the police and even the yakuza. It would slowly get to his head before he eventually considered all of Yokohama under his own jurisdiction. A cop turned into a godlike judge that people offered everything they had to appease him from staining their name with whatever dirt he had found on them. His police station would turn into a temple with his likeness imprinted on tapestries and stained glass, a dictator of his own beliefs that his ideology is beyond the law. His treasure is hidden away in the temple’s evidence room as a huge binder of names and blackmail that turns into his badge upon returning to the real world.

Ramuda, an obvious choice I have no ideas for

Jakurai, again I can see two points where Jakurai could develop a palace, during his time as an assassin and his split with TDD. I’m pretty sure both would be drastically different, so Im mainly focusing on the idea of one based after TDD break up. Jakurai loves to involve himself with interesting people, which was his original reason for getting involved with Ramuda, however, we can also look at this from terrible angle, one where Jakurai drops people once they stop being interesting. After losing the people he considered friends, he took on more interesting patients, but he would contentiously drop them the moment he’d lose interest. His palace would distort his hospital into a showcase room, where his patients are shown off like dolls, trying their best to keep his interest out of fear of him throwing them away. At the end it leads to a giant stage and throne where he watches his patients in action and at his side are the distorted versions of Hifumi and Doppo, his current favorite subjects. They act as beyond over exaggerations of their typical personalities, Hifumi being literally two faced with him and Gigolo and Doppo cowering, constantly on edge. His palace would require a lot of outside interaction to get it to open up, maybe the time limit being until he loses interest in whoever they set as the dummy.

Hifumi, but specifically, Gigolo. A moment where he’s able to take over Hifumi almost entirely, jacket or not. His ego inflates quickly and he abandons Matenrou, specifically Doppo, so he can delve his entire life into his job and the Shinjuku night life. His club unsurprisingly changes into his own chateau, rooms filled with champagne towers and near blinding chandeliers. The women who loiter around the halls are also it’s defenders. His treasure is hidden in the master bedroom, a bottle of his very own champagne brand and transforms into his jacket outside of his palace.

Rei, I don’t care enough about Rei, most likely an open market where he’s free to scam as many people as he pleases.

#I really liked making this even if some of them are kinda rambles instead of any real substance #The fan palace theme for Ryuji really reminded me of Ichiro so I had to make this #Some of them are missing other details like Ichiro not having a treasure but its just because I couldnt think of an idea #Or just confusing concepts like Jyutos palace but still #Jakurai is such a wonderful character and his investment in interesting people could be perfect angst potential #'Im sorry but you just arent interesting anymore'#like bro my heart #Theres some goofs here and the but ykno #Idk who I was considering as the phantom thieves tho; but heres some palaces

4 notes · View notes

clansayeed · 4 years

Text

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 13: What Was Given Can Be Taken Away

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

After her encounter with the bloodwraith leaves Lady Smoke without her cursed touch, Katherine sets out to organize a meeting with the only power in the city left uninterrogated: the Garden Coven. Taylor takes advantage of their time left hanging to finally visit Kristin’s hospital bed. There he finds a familiar face and finally gets an outsider’s perspective on the weirdness his life has become.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“No wonder you’re a dead name in this town, Ryder. Can’t even follow simple orders. Didn’t I tell you to keep Vera away from here?”

“Harsh, Tonya — harsh.”

Vera shoves the Nighthunter aside and almost falls on her knees at her mother’s bedside. Apparently the bad blood that parted them ran a little thinner than the blood they shared.

He recognizes that face — remembers a similar look in his mother’s eyes when she was watching him from his own hospital bedside. Kind of understands the way Tonya Reimonenq tries to look at anything but her daughter.

“As if I wasn’t gonna come see you?” Vera can’t help but sound a little frustrated; a little broken. Takes in the thin black spiderwebbing of her veins they’ve all become a little too familiar with at this point. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“There’s nothin’ lucky about this, Vera.”

Her voice is thick with anger. It’s enough to pull her daughter out of her familial grief. Where she reaches up and Taylor helps her back to standing. Still she holds on to the railing of Tonya’s bed with a hard grip.

She looks her mother over head to toe. Flinches as she takes in the burn unit casts on her hands and forearms. The way her hair is no longer coiffed with a salt-and-pepper streak of refinement but now, instead, lays in disarray over the thin hospital pillows.

Just as her ID band says, the woman lying in bed is Tonya Reimonenq, nothing more and nothing less. Lady Smoke is no more than what her name implies — smoke on the wind.

Vera swallows down something else, maybe some fondness or affectionate word. Instead just lets her hand hover over the nearest cast-bound hand with hesitation.

“Kathy said you…” but the words get lost somewhere between her head and her mouth and she has to try again, “that the… the thing, it…”

Even when Tonya physically turns her head away there’s no hiding it. Not in the monitors that start to beep louder on the other side of her, not in the numbers that jump erratically. Not in the lights overhead — unflattering things to everyone, really — that illuminate the shame in her dark eyes.

“I can’t feel it anymore.”

“Feel what?”

“The connection, baby girl,” and there’s something a little manic in the way she looks at her daughter then, the way she reaches out but can’t touch, “the connection to our birthright. Always there and then…”

The words come out of Taylor unbidden; “Then gone like smoke.”

A tear falls down Tonya’s cheek. Dampens the pillowcase where it lands. Her vitals have slowed down now but the damage is done.

Expensive footsteps stop in the doorway brisk enough to turn their heads. To where a crisp and starched man fusses with a dark trench coat, practically wrenches it off of his shoulders and into the arms of an attendant passing in the hall.

His icy eyes land first on Tonya in bed and then sweep her guests — nothing short of critical, dismissive; borderline angry.

“Money can buy you a good room and unlimited care, Reimonenq, but it won’t buy you out of hospital rules.” He snaps, takes the white doctor’s coat from a different attendant as its given to him.

Along with it a laminated badge: DIAGNOSTIC STAFF, TULANE MEDICAL CENTER. With AUTHORIZED VISITOR on a bright red sticker beneath it.

The doctor pushes through them carelessly — is already fixated on the clipboard of Tonya’s information when he growls out “Anyone who isn’t family get the hell out of my sight before I call security,” and he definitely isn’t kidding.

“Good to see you again, Doctor Ramsey.”

He only looks up at his patient to see the condition of her arms and their bandages. “It isn’t a sentiment shared.”

Because they have no desire to stay and see what the doctor’s wrath looks like, since it sounds violent enough, Taylor and Nik make their way out. Stop only when Vera turns hot on their heels.

“You should stay with her — you know, never know what could happen.” Nik mutters under his breath. He’s so unaccustomed to showing concern that it sounds almost sarcastic for a moment. “I just mean —”

“I know what you mean. But I ain’t doin’ any good standin’ here.”

Taylor reaches and their hands meet between one another. He squeezes her gloves with the same concern and support as he had at the Shift.

“Nik’s right.”

But Vera is, at least on the surface, adamant. “No, Tay’. I’m useless in here. Out there I can—I mean we could—”

Neither of them miss the half-glance she nearly throws over her shoulder.

“Stay,” Taylor tries again; feels her resolve crumble just a little — it’s enough, “we’re not even going far. And if anything changes you’re the first call. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Taylor knows he has no right to try and mend the holes in the Reimonenq family tapestry. That’s not even what he’s trying to do if he’s honest. But underneath all that anger he can feel the threads of regret Vera is trying desperately to hide.

If something did happen she wouldn’t forgive herself. And that’s worse than feeling helpless.

When they finally find their way back to the front lobby (two wrong turns, five angry nurses, and a mentally scarring view of an old man’s ass later) Cal is sitting alone in one of the uncomfortable half-bench chairs. He’s pretending to be focused intently on the muted play of college football on the nearby mounted television — badly. Keeps looking over to where a father distracts his son from the noise and bustle around them with one of those outdated planks with colorful metal wires criss-crossing each other for simple beads to travel on.

Makes sense, though. The kid’s mop of messy dark hair could place him for a younger version of Cal’s brother, Donny.

“Hey, Kujo!” Ryder snaps to get the wolf’s attention — gets more than that when Cal’s upper lip curls like he’s baring fangs.

“You call me that one more time, Ryder, and I swear to god I’ll —”

“Enough, guys.” Taylor forces his way between them.

Ryder, however, is either entirely too used to threats by now or doesn’t find the werewolf to be much of a threat. Both aren’t very healthy reasons.

“Where’s Katherine?”

And yeah, where is Katherine? She’d been so insistent at the Shift to see Tonya’s condition for herself yet had been more than willing to hang back and make a call while Vera reunited with her mother.

Cal jerks his head towards the automated doors. “She dipped out.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” luckily all it takes is a glare from Taylor to tone down his dangerous levels of sass, “you find out where she was goin’?”

“Naw, she —”

“She’s making arrangements for us to meet with the Garden Coven — ideally as soon as possible.”

Cadence arrives bearing the holy grail of all holy grails; hospital coffee. Makes balancing the three cups sans lids while swerving his way through a minefield of professionals, patients, and problematic persons downright easy. He hands each of them their caffeinated prizes while continuing; “Time is of the essence after all.”

A grim silence settles over the group. Just another time when, once again, there’s more going on than what’s being said and Taylor is left out of the loop. But he won’t fall into the trap this time — he simply won’t ask.

No matter how burning the compulsion is, how desperately he wants to know? Nope. Not asking.

Ryder practically gags on his first sip of coffee — funny, thinks Taylor, since he chugs down alcohol strong enough to burn off his tastebuds any other time — before he speaks.

“And there’s no one else suspect?”

Cadence shrugs. “The Mayor wasn’t at the garden, but even if it is him by some miracle or another he’d need a witch to summon that level of power.”

“All roads lead to the Garden.”

“Worst case scenario they agree.”

“You should’ve gone with her,” hard to tell which one is sharper; the look Nik throws at the vampire or the edge of his words, “no one has it in good with those crones. She could use the protection.”

“On the contrary I might be second to, well, you in how I stand with them.”

Context — context is good. And judging by said context this Garden Coven is rather the opposite. He pipes up; “They don’t know me yet, that’s a positive, right?”

Three pairs of eyes in a deadpan stare that tells him no, no that isn’t a positive at all.

“Well,” Cal smacks his open palms on his jeans and resumes his seat — the kid and his dad are gone now, the toy left abandoned and on its side, “nothin’ to do but wait. Least here I don’t gotta move Garrus’ inventory.”

So that’s it, they’re just going to sit on their thumbs and wait?

Well — Cal’s going to sit. The vampire shrugs and hands his number off to Ryder with a mention to call him if there’s news; takes off back the way he had come towards the hospital cafeteria.

Then Nik’s leaning in close, voice low and breath a tickle in his ear that Taylor wasn’t prepared for and can’t exactly contain his reaction to. But luckily the front doors slide open at the same time and his shudder could easily be taken as a shiver against the chillier evening air.

“Listen, Rook, about —”

It makes him step back and gape. “You really think now is the time to talk about that?” Because, uh, no.

Then Nik’s rolling his eyes with an arm thrown over his shoulder. “No, I’m not — shut up.” And he may very well be trying to get Taylor alone to talk about… about what happened in the apartment, but his dumb legs follow anyway. Like they’re conditioned by now to know safety lies at the hells of that dumb leather duster.

He stops them just shy of an unmanned desk. Keeps his voice low; “There’s a lot goin’ on right now.”

“Gee, really?”

“I mean —” Taylor takes a little pride in forcing Nik to pinch the bridge of his nose, just a little, “— between Tonya in there, and I don’t even know how to begin tellin’ you all the things not to do in front’a the Garden Coven, and yeah sure at some point maybe… talkin’ about earlier would be good —”

“Not. right. now.”

“I ain’t sayin’ right now!” A rare grunt of genuine frustration. Maybe Taylor’s toed the line a little too far… makes him back off at the very least. He can let the man get his words out, sure.

An opportunity Nik’s grateful for. “I figure you wouldn’t wanna do this without Vera but you weren’t wrong when you said she oughta stay with Tonya. But I dunno the next time we’ll be in this part of town. And I never intended not to keep this promise.”

Oh.

Nik notices the epiphany in his eyes and gives a curt nod. Stands with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets, which hunches his shoulders, which makes him seem more sincere than the hunter’s normal bravado allows for.

“She’s two floors up. You… you up for this?”

No — he isn’t. But as ever Nik is (begrudgingly) right. Who knows the next time they’re not going to be kidnapped, or attacked, or potentially fatally worse?

So he just nods and follows the safety of Nik’s heels towards the elevator.

It should be a good thing that the Intensive Care Unit doesn’t have many long-term patients. But Taylor already has a thing with hospitals. A nearly empty floor with all the blinds drawn and only one cantankerous-looking old guy manning the nurse’s station?

Welcome back to your own personal horror movie, Taylor.

The floor’s only occupants are side-by-side. So focused on getting to her after all this time, Taylor barely gives the man a passing glance. Catches sight of a smaller, frail-looking body in the bed over where his back is hunched and shaking with silent sobs.

The air is stale with the salty taste of grief.

The first thing he notices is how dull her room looks. Makes sense; she’s in a different city in a different state than where she grew up and even if there were volunteers about they’re probably all assigned to the patients who will appreciate and take advantage of a stranger’s generosity.

“I should’ve brought flowers,” mutters Taylor absently.

She would have brought him flowers. That’s just the kind of friend Kristin is.

Only the chart at the foot of her bed says ‘Jane Doe.’ Lists extensive injuries Taylor catches only a glimpse of before he forces his gaze elsewhere. But because he’s back in the Hunter Horror Flick each new thing he sees is leagues worse than the last.

Tonya had magic on her side. Even if it was gone now, even if it hadn’t worked — it was more than the negative defenses Kristin had had against their attacker.

She looks like someone poured a gallon of ink over a kiddie pool of milk. Weird analogy but not a wrong one. The machine keeping track of her vitals beeps slow and rhythmic. Says good things about the state of her pulse and her heart… only that he’s pretty sure it should be a little more upbeat.

He would have thought the tube down her throat would make him gag but somehow knowing it’s helping keep her alive is enough to stay his weak stomach. The in-process transfusion between a healthy, red bag on her right and the barbecue sauce-looking contents of the left bag, though… well he has to look away some time.

He’d hoped—no, thought—Nik was still in the doorway; a reassuring presence giving him an inch of space. Instead the Nighthunter is given a mile and is nowhere to be found.

He shoves the ‘Why I’m Uncomfortable With That’ essay back inside — there’s room to spare in the little mental box he’s assigned to process pretty much everything regarding Nik Ryder at a later and less perilous date.

Only when he’s taken in every part of her — no matter how frail or beaten — does Taylor pull up a chair from near the open doorway. Reaches out and covers Kristin’s hand with both of his own.

Because its easier than accepting the truth Taylor just tells himself he’s getting a fever, and that alone is the reason why she’s as cold as ice.

The alternative is there, screaming in his face, but he’s willfully denied the existence of something before, right? He’s pretty much a pro at this point.

“Christ, Krissy… I’m — I’m so sorry.”

Sorry he’s only just coming to see her now. Sorry he let this happen to her in the first place. Sorry he had such a stupid idea as he had.

Only barely registers the trembling in his hand when he reaches out and pushes a strand of her hair aside. He wants to rip the tube out of her mouth — it looks alien; wrong.

Can she hear him? He’s heard different stories of coma patients being aware of what’s around them but — but this isn’t an ordinary coma. This is supernatural, this is painful.

This is all his fault.

“‘Bout time Miss Jane got herself a visitor. I told — oh, hey, don’t I know you?”

He doesn’t place the voice nor the face it belongs to at first. How could he — in such a short amount of time Taylor’s met so many different people, different creatures. To see someone from before all this began is jarring in a way he didn’t expect.

That the badge tacked onto her olive green blazer says VOLUNTEER rather than a name doesn’t help either. Not until her features waver in front of his face — a heat mirage on a distant desert road.

The cemetery tour guide is the literal last person he expected to see now. He tries to be discreet wracking his mind for her name but must not do a very good job; “Tilly, not that I’d expect ya to remember.”

“No no, I — I do. I just… it’s been a weird couple of days.”

Her gaze, bright and with that cat-like intensity Garrus has helped him get accustomed to, look through him to Kristin’s bed. “I bet.”

Right — she had invited him back to the city with a free ride; traded stories about their plans for Mardi Gras and Taylor had gushed about seeing Kristin for the first time in ages.

And something tells him Tilly lives up to that look in her eyes.

“Might I be right in guessin’ this unlucky lady is that friend’a yours?”

Hesitantly he nods — checks behind her to make sure that grumpy nurse isn’t listening in on them. “But don’t — don’t say anything, okay? I —” Nik would kill him if he was suddenly pulled in for questioning.

She taps her plush lips — how is everything about her just shy of perfect? — with a single finger.

“Secret’s safe with me. I’m just glad she’s finally got some company. I make my rounds when I can, but this ain’t my day job.”

Though that begs the question doesn’t it? “Why do I have a feeling this meeting isn’t coincidence?”

“‘Cause ya’ve got a keen sense about you. I can’t quite see what it is, lit’le human, but it’s awful strong.”

Human, she says. “So you know.”

“Know what, cher?”

“I can see through your glamour.”

“Had a hunch —” she takes the opportunity to step into the room properly, closes the curtain behind her for a barrier however thin, “— ‘specially when you kept starin’ at my ears when first we met. Talk about makin’ a girl self-conscious.”

“Oh—I’m sorry.” At least he’s sheepish about it. But the fae woman waves it off with ease.

“You didn’t go tryin’ ta out me to all the humans in my guide group, so there’s no reason for ‘sorries.’ Most mortals don’t got that kind’a sense about them.”

“You run into this kind of thing often?”

“Oh—well no,” and Tilly goes a little red at the tips of her elven ears, “but I’ve been ‘round for quite some time. In a town like Nawlins you can’t even imagine what can be seen in one immortal lifetime.”

Actually, he can? Seeing Kristin and Tilly again reminds him just how little time has actually passed since his biggest concern was making sure he had all of the ingredients for his former roommate’s ‘tried and true’ hangover cure.

It feels like he’s been through the ordeal of several lifetimes in a matter of days.

His silence speaks volumes, has Tilly pulling up a rolling computer chair from outside the curtain to join him in his solitude. She surprises Taylor by reaching out and tilting his head up with a finger crooked under his chin.

He’s quick to notice that unlike Cadence, whose years echo deep in the weaving colors of his irises, there isn’t a hint of her age to be found.

“Though maybe you can imagine…” Its a prompt — an opening.

And maybe its because she’s caught him still raw from taking in Kristin’s current state or just because he needs to get it all out to someone before he literally explodes — but its an opening that Taylor takes. A little too gladly, maybe.

The levee holding in thoughts and words breaks somewhere on his tongue and just pours out. Keeps going and going and going until she feels compelled to stop him with a gesture, grabs an untouched cup of water from Kristin’s bedside, and practically forces him to drink before he’s allowed to, well, keep going.

Lucky for him though she doesn’t seem bothered by it. In fact she’s best described as enraptured in his tale. Gives nods of understanding; gasps of surprise.

Only when he’s exhausted himself of story to tell, catching up at the literal present with— “and now we’re just waiting, but shit I don’t know where he went, actually, I should go look for him…” —does he stop and breathe.

When Tilly finally decides what to say he just knows, somehow, that she’s chosen every word with care. “That’s certainly a story for the ages, Taylor.”

“Not one I would’ve picked for myself if I had the choice.”

“We don’t always get to choose our path in this life, or the next for that matter. You should count ya’self among the lucky to be a part of the makin’ of the world; of the future.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“No,” the smile she gives him is coy and full of secrets, “I don’t suspect you would.”

He expects her to continue — she doesn’t. And now being left hanging is just shy of uncomfortable. Again, where the hell is Nik…?

“It strikes me, Taylor, that you might not know jus’ what you are. Ain’t you ever wondered?”

Tilly stands and kicks her chair back, makes a point of looking at the closed curtain when the chair collides with the wall loudly but when nothing happens it only encourages her further.

Gets her to grab either side of Taylor’s chair and start pulling him closer to Kristin’s bedside.

“Oi—hey, what’re you doing?” What is she talking about, what he is?

Tilly’s words drip with mischief, “Maybe that bodyguard a’yours is to blame. All this happenin’ at once but no one’s stopped to look at the big picture.”

Taylor recoils just on instinct when she goes to grab his hand but the fae isn’t having it. She wraps her spidery fingers around his wrist and the contact isn’t just warm its like a volcano — scorching hot, bubbling lava, something rising inside of him and swelling to a previously unheard sound.

But he can hear it now. Like its a part of her. Some distant lilting tune that brings to his mind’s eye towering bonfires of majestic purple flames, of waters thousands of miles deep but so clear you can see right to the bottom, of wings the size of an airplane beating heavy and true against a sky riddled with a dozen moons and infinite stars.

He jerks them apart with wide eyes. Finds the smile she’s shining down upon him unnerving in that he can see all of her teeth at once. People who smile like that are always undoubtedly up to something.

The hospital lights flicker, then return to their usual brightness.

He hadn’t even noticed them go dim.

It makes him look around wildly. “Wh—What happened? What did you do to me?” And its only occurred to him what might be considered too late that this Tilly woman might be less a friend than a foe.

“I didn’t do nothin’, cher. Just showed you a teensy bit’a what you’re capable of. Since I bet no one else has bothered to try.”

Before he can protest or even question her there’s a finger to his lips. That same spark only hinted at — the melody stuck on the tip of his tongue. “All these miracles — the good and the bad — and n’one ever stopped to wonder why they keep happenin’ to you?

“Why you can see through the fog, or why ya’ve got literal hell on ya heels?”

“Very bad luck?” He tries through a smushed mouth. Tilly’s laugh is like wind-chimes of ethereal glass.

“Luck ain’t got a side to choose. But luck — luck is a streak of random chance. This is more. After all… what’s our reunitin’ but somethin’ that ought to’ve happened to bring us in the here and now?”

Fabric rustles behind him, enough to distract the fae woman and give him the chance to get her out of his personal bubble.

He’s never been so goddamn happy to see Nik in his life. Even if he plans on hitting the man for abandoning him when this is over with.

There’s a small bouquet of tulips hanging at his side; still with the tag from the hospital gift shop downstairs.

Okay, maybe he’ll save that for another well-deserving time. Because that’s just sweet.

Only there’s nothing sweet about the glower on his face. The way it makes the dark circles under his eyes look harder, the set in his jaw more prominent. He bypasses Taylor to glare right at Tilly. An unreadable expression hidden beneath his well-placed mask.

“What exactly are you implying?” He asks; joins in on the conversation like he’s always been there. Maybe he was — lurking just out of sight.

She cocks her head playfully. “Oh, you know.”

“Pretend I don’t.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He knows Nik well enough by now — when he doesn’t answer its because he’s still waiting for an answer to his first question.

Then they both look to Taylor — like they’re in each other’s heads. Its unnerving enough already and that just sends goosebumps down his spine.

Tilly with that same hidden knowing. And Nik…

Nik’s scaring him, to be honest, with the unfamiliar expression. An actual expression is rare enough but this… like he’s seeing Taylor for the first time. When he couldn’t have even managed it after being on top of him, being in his most intimate space?

The hunter rubs a hand over his mouth. “I had a hunch, just didn’t have the chance to figure out if it was even possible.”

“How much’a this world is born on impossible, Nik Ryder?” she asks. Earns her a sharp look.

“How can you prove it?”

She wiggles her fingers. “I jus’ did.”

“That ain’t enough to go on.”

“Not for certain — but it’s enough to get y’all in the door.”

“How quickly —”

“Say the word.”

“If he won’t listen —”

“He will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Easy-peasy,” she presses the tips of her fingers together and Taylor swears he catches sight of sparks where they meet, “it all makes too much sense t’a be just circumstance.”

When Tilly pries her fingertips apart an unnatural breeze, warm and somehow ringed with sunlight, wafts over the room. Rustles the tips of Kristin’s hair and the thin hospital blanket resting atop her. Flutters the drawn curtain and the hem of Nik’s coat.

A single pink petal falls from one of the tulips in his hand — dances practically alive along the tile floor only to be swept out of the room.

Somehow, though, deep in his chest Taylor knows it isn’t the lobby they’ll find on the other side.

In the same way he knows that’s where they need to go next.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay. Not with everything going on; the danger he’d be putting her back in. They were still waiting for word on when to join the others for their confrontation with the Garden Coven.

But looking down at Kristin — frail and so so cold… can Nik blame him for finding it hard to leave her side?

“Don’t worry — she’s safe here.”

He doesn’t take the hand the fae offers and thankfully she seems to understand. “And you won’t tell the hospital who she is?”

“A fae’s word is bond.”

“Thank you.” For watching over her, for letting him vent, for whatever she seems to know that Nik hasn’t yet brought to light.

When Taylor turns its to Nik’s bouquet held out in offering. He’s seen those hands; what they’re capable of. Strangling goblins and firing crossbows and the way they cradled his jaw with yearning. Yet now they’re trembling — the fear of rejection silent but there.

“You said you should’a gotten her flowers.” Explains the Nighthunter absently.

Taylor takes them for the gift — and wayward apology — that they are. Lays them across Kristin’s lap and presses a chaste kiss to her clammy forehead.

“I’ll be back, Krissy. Get well soon.”

Nik waits until they can cross the curtain’s threshold together. Must be feeling some kind of sappy because he doesn’t even try to move away when Taylor finds reassurance in his hand.

There’s a light that shouldn’t be there glowing through the gap where it brushes the floor.

“Are you gonna explain what’s happening before we go, or —”

“I don’t wanna be wrong — you deserve better than that,” small blessings in the fact that Nik seems just as apprehensive about the first foot forward, “but if I’m not… you need to be ready for everything to change from here on out.”

He probably doesn’t mean to be funny. Taylor laughs anyway. “Like it hasn’t already?” — then, because the humor is fleeting — “You’ll stay with me, right?”

“The whole way.”

Those three words — and not even the three most important words in someone’s life — are enough to give him the courage to do what Nik won’t.

He puts his first foot forward and pulls back the curtain.

#nightbound #choices fanfiction #choices nb #nik ryder x mc #nik ryder #cal lowell #vera reimonenq #katherine nightbound #oc: cadence smith #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

2 notes · View notes